Haystack (pronounced hey-stak)
(1) A stack,
pile or bindle of hay (cut grass) with a conical or ridged top, built up in the
mowed field so as to prevent the accumulation of moisture and promote drying.
(2) Any mix
of green leafy plants used for fodder.
(3) In the
slang of weed smokers, (1) a device (pipe or bong) with an untypically large
bowl in which the marijuana is able to be packed in an unusually large quantity
or (2) any device where the weed is stacked above the rim of the cone piece.
(3) In
slang, among disapproving carnivores, a disparaging terms for salads or dishes
made predominately with leafy greens.
Mid 1400s: The construct was hay + stack. Hay (mown grass) was a pre-900 Middle English word from the Old English hēg, from the Anglian Old English heg & heig and the West Saxon Old English hig (grass cut or mown for fodder), from the Proto-Germanic haujam (literally “that which is cut” or “that which can be mowed”), from the primitive Indo-European kau- (to hew, strike) which was the source also of the Old English heawan (“to cut” and linked to the modern English “to hew”). Hay’s cognates included the Old Norse hey, the Old Frisian ha, the Middle Dutch hoy, the Gothic hawi, the West Frisian hea, the Alemannic German Heuw, the Cimbrian höobe, the Dutch hooi, the German Heu, the Luxembourgish Hee, the Mòcheno hei, the Yiddish היי (hey), the Danish hø, the Faroese hoyggj, the Gutnish hoy, the Icelandic hey, the Norwegian Bokmål, the Norwegian Nynorsk høy and the Swedish hö; all meant “hay” although use to refer also to grass (later to be used as hay) is documented. Hay is the ISO’s (International Standards Organization) translingual (symbol ISO 639-3) language code for Haya and, in slang, one of many terms for marijuana (cannabis). A hay is a net set around the haunt of an animal (especially rabbits or hares).
Stack dates from 1250–1300 and was from the Middle English stak (pile, heap or group of things, especially a pile of grain in the sheaf in circular or rectangular form), from a Scandinavian source akin to the Old Norse stakkr (haystack), thought from the Proto-Germanic stakkoz & stakon- (a stake), from the primitive Indo-European stog- a variant of steg (pole; stick (source of the English “stake”, the Old Church Slavonic stogu (heap), the Russian stog (haystack) and the Lithuanian stokas (pillar)). It was cognate with the Danish stak and the Swedish stack (heap, stack). “Smokestack” and the derived clipping “stack” were by the 1660s in use to describe tall chimneys, initially when arrayed in a cluster but by 1825 it’s recorded also of the “single stacks” on steam locomotives and steamships. In English parish records, “Stack” is recorded as a surname as early as the twelfth century and there are a variety of explanations for the origin (which may between regions have differed) and in at least some cases there may be a connection with use of “stack” in agriculture (such as peripatetic workers who travelled between farms specifically to “build haystacks”). In societies where so much of the economy was based on farming and populations substantially were rural, such links were common.
In naval use, the official Admiralty term was “funnel” and warships were in some listings (especially identification charts which used silhouettes) listed thus (“three funnel cruiser”; “four funnel destroyer”) but the sailors’ slang was “two stacker”, “three stacker” etc. In libraries, “stacks” in the sense of “set of shelves on which books arranged) was in use by the late 1870s and in computer software, the “stack” was first documented in 1960 to describe a collection of elements which work in unison, the original idea being of a stack of things, each subsequent object depending on the one below to run and by the time all are assembled, the whole can function (ie an early instance of “granular” software”). Later, the word was applied to other concepts, notably the LIFO (last in, first out) model in data structure (LIFO) describing objects added (push) and removed (pop) from the same end. Stack is a noun & verb, stackage, stacker & stackback are nouns, stacking is a noun & verb, stacked is a verb & adjective and stackless, stacky & stackful are adjectives; the noun plural is stacks. Haystack is a noun; the noun plural is haystacks.
In Middle English, the alternative forms were hay-cock and its variants (haycok, hacoke & haycoke), all synonymous with grass-cock, hayrick & haystack and referencing the same conical stacks of cut grass. The haystack was a product of the cutting of grass and subsequently curing it to make hay as fodder for animals. Just as cheese was made as a means of preserving milk for later consumption, so the cutting a stacking of hay was a way to ensure there would be feed for livestock during the months when the growth of grass was minimal. There are many derived terms associated with haymaking and haystacks (hayfork, hayknife, haybailer hay mover, hay rake, hayshed etc) but there’s no evidence “haystacker” was ever used of those individuals who “stacked hay into haystacks”. The form “haymaker” exists but this seems to have been coined to describe machines built for the purpose rather than the workers. This is likely because it was a seasonal event in which many farm-workers (although there clearly were some “travelling contractors” who went from farm-to-farm) tended to be involved and, needed no specialized skill-set, the term never appeared; it was a task done rather than a job description.
The haystack
was a part of agricultural practice even before the civilizations of Antiquity
(Egyptians, Greeks, Romans etc) developed the process on a grander scale. The objective of stacking the hay in conical formations
was as protection from pests and the elements and farmers paid much attention
to location, the ideal site for a haystack being somewhere slightly elevated, well-drained
and with a foundation not prone to promoting moisture absorption (ideally with
a bottom layer of some coarse material to promote air-flow between hay and
surface. Usually, a pole was pounded
into the ground to prove the structure with a basic structural rigidity and as
each layer is added and compacted, the stack grows upwards and outwards,
assuming the distinctive shape, the angles at the top fashioned to optimize the
shedding of rainwater. In a sense, the
outermost layer is sacrificial in that it will weather and discolour but, if
the structure is well-packed, what lies within will retain its green hue and
smell “sweet” to livestock.
A “Hawaiian
haystack” is a meal of rice with the diner's choice of toppings such as
chicken, pineapple, noodles and cheese; a favorite of resort style hotels and
cruise ship operators, usually the dish is served buffet-style. The slang phrase “hit the hay” dates from at
least the early nineteenth century when literally it meant “to go to the barn
and sleep on an ad-hoc “bed of hay” but by 1903 it was being recorded as
meaning simply “going to bed”. A “roll
in the hay” or “romp in the hay” were both euphemisms for “a session of sexual
intercourse (usually without any hint of subsequent commitment) and that use is
documented only from early in World War II (1939-1945) among US soldiers but
when the expression first was used is unknown.
The term “haywire” (usually as “gone haywire” or “gone haywire”) originally meant “likely to become tangled unpredictably to the
point of unusability or fall apart”; the idea was of items bound together only
with the soft, springy
wire (baler twine) used to bind hay bales.
It’s said first to have been used as “haywire outfit” in New England
lumber camps (circa 1905) to describe collections of logging tools bound in a
haphazard manner and prone to coming adrift.
From that, “haywire” enjoyed some mission creep and came to mean people
or machinery behaving erratically or falling apart. In the modern idiom, the most common use (as “went
haywire”) is to describe some act (such as removing a part from a machine)
which results in the whole mechanism becoming messed up.
The
figurative term “needlestack” summons the idea of a “stack of needles” and is
an allusion to the difficulty in finding a particular object among one of many
which are similar or even close to identical.
The word was a back-formation from the phrase “finding a needle in a
haystack” which is a much more popular expression although finding a needle in
a needlestack is much harder. Finding a
needle in a haystack is merely messy and time-consuming whereas finding a needle
in a needlestack can at least verge on the impossible. The popular TV science show Mythbusters
compared methods and found there were techniques which could “speed up” finding
a needle in a haystack”, the use of water most efficient (metal being heavier
than straw, the needle would sink) while fire worked but was slow and messy and
a magnet was ideal (assume the needle remained ferromagnetic). Obviously, giant magnets, metal detectors or
X-ray machines quickly would find even tiny pieces of metal but the Mythbusters
crew wanted practical, “real world” examples which would have been viable
centuries earlier when first the phrase was used. The finding of a “bone needle” was considered
to be more difficult (fire not recommended and a magnet obviously useless) and
the team concluded that whatever the method, the task remained challenging
enough for the saying still to have validity.
Founded in 2013, what prompted the creation of Haystack TV was that in the US, without a cable TV subscription, it was difficult to find news content, the idea being that finding news among the dozens of available channels was like “looking for a needle in a haystack”. It took until 2015 for the service to start with Haystack TV mission statement saying its objective was to “stream high-quality, trusted news without sifting through masses of irrelevant video.” Now known as Haystack News, the model is a free, advertising supported streaming service for local, national and international news video available on smart TVs, over-the-top platforms and mobile apps; in the modern way, data (location, topics of interest, favorite sources etc) harvested from each user is used to generate personalized playlist of short news clips. Initially, the focus was on US news content but in 2019, the vista expanded with clips from more than 200 local TV stations including overseas content. By 2026, the catchment had expanded to some 400 including Africanews, Al Jazeera, CBC, DW (Deutsche Welle, Euronews, France 24 and i24 News.
A haymaker
(in the Middle English originally heymakere) was a machine (purpose built or adapted)
used in the production of hay (there's scant evident ever it widely was used of
workers involved in the process) and in informal use was “a very powerful punch”,
especially one which “knocks down an opponent” (on the model of the sweep of a
scythe levelling tall grass). However,
some etymologists suggest a more likely origin is as a reference to the strong,
muscular arms of the men who wielded the scythes when “cutting hay”. Figuratively, by extension, it came also to
mean “any decisive blow, shock, or forceful action” although that use is now less
common. A haymonger (from the Middle
English heimongere, heymonger & heymongere) was “a trader who deals in
hay” and although the practices were never formalized in the manner of modern
commodity markets, surviving documents suggest that as early as the 1500s there
was something like a “proto futures market” in hay as farmers sought to hedge
against variables (flood, drought price movements etc) and ensure they’d have a
stock of fodder available at a known price.
Hayseeds literally were “seeds from grass that has become hay” and the
word was applied generally to the cruft from bits of hay (ie not actually seeds)
that sticks to clothing etc. By extension,
a “hayseed” was “a yokel or country bumpkin” (ie a person thought rustic or unsophisticated).
Manufacturers list hay sheds as specific designs (classically, two or three sides (facing the prevailing weather) and a roof) so if a hay shed is used for another purpose it's a “re-purposed hay shed” whereas if hay is stored in a different type of shed, it might be described as “my hay shed” but its really a shed in which hay is being stored. Being practical folk, this distinction is unlikely to be something on which many farmers much dwell.
Originally, haystacks were “stack of hay: which might vary in size and shape but the general practice was to create something vaguely conical; rather than being a choice, this was dictated by the physics in that a cone allowed the largest volume to be stacked with the smallest footprint as well as minimizing moisture intrusion. The modern practice however is for hay to be bound into bales either cylindrical (“rounds”) or cuboid (a rectangular prism) in shape and which is chosen is a product of the machinery available, available storage capacity, heard size and in some cases whether the hay is to be transported by road. By virtue of their shape, cylindrical bales tend to shed water which may reach the surface during rainfall so any spoilage usually is restricted to the inch or so of the outermost layer, making them suited to outdoor storage; their density also makes them more efficient for fermenting silage. The cuboid bale, because of the upper surface area, acts in the rain like a sponge, meaning they should be stored under cover and the advantage of the regular shape is that when stacked, the cuboids create no waste space, unlike rounds typically cost around 15-20% in unused space. The same equation means cuboids are best suited to be transported by truck. The modern practice (bales now produced in standardized sizes using machines which sometimes will as part of the process wrap them in a waterproof plastic sheeting) means that the word “haystack” now more accurately reflects a number of bales “stacked” in a shed or on the land while the original conical “stack” would more accurately be called a “pile”. However, because of centuries of use, the term continues to be applied to both although “bale stack” does exist in the jargon of farming.
Bales of hay being trucked to somewhere. Both cuboids and rounds can be transported thus but, as with storage, the space efficiency of the former is superior.
The proverb “make hay while the sun shines” is now used figuratively to mean “one should act while an opportunity exists and take action while a situation is favourable” but the origin was literal. Until very recently, weather forecasting was most inexact and because the moisture content of hay was of great significance (spoilage and the risk of spontaneous combustion), it was important for farmers to avail themselves of sunny, dry condition to cut, dry and gather the grass to be assembled into haystacks. Dating from a time when weather forecasting essentially was “tomorrow the weather will be much the same as today, two times out of three”, the proverb seems to have originated in Tudor times (1485-1603) and the first known reference is from 1546. Since the mid seventeenth century, it has been used figuratively. Phrases like “carpe diem” (seize the day), “grasp the nettle” & “strike while the iron is hot” impart a similar meaning.
At the first Nuremberg trial (1945-1946), an IMT (International Military Tribunal) was convened to try two-dozen surviving members of the Nazi regime in Germany (1933-1945), 22 of the accused appearing in court, one having committed suicide by hanging (with his underpants stuffed in his mouth to limit the noise) prior to proceedings beginning and one was tried in absentia. The proceedings were conducted in four languages (English, French, German and Russian) with “simultaneous translation” provided by a rotating group of translators, all those in the courtroom able to listen (through headphones) in any of these language. It’s no exaggeration to say it was the work of the translators and interpreters that made possible the 13 Nuremberg Trials in the form they took and the implementation of simultaneous interpretation was ground-breaking, the undertaking all the more remarkable because of the scale. The main trial was conducted over ten months with 210 sitting days and so much material was presented the published transcripts filled 42 volumes, thus the references to “the trial of six million words.” Logistically, the approach was vital because had the traditional approach been pursued, the trial as conducted would have been impractical because the usual protocol had been: (1) One speaker would deliver remarks in German while (2) interpreters took notes. After the speaker was finished, (3) one interpreter would interpret into French, followed by (4) an interpretation in Russian, and then (5) in English. Things thus would have lasted perhaps four times as long but with “simultaneous translation” (in reality there was a lag of 6-8 seconds) it was as close to “real-time” as was possible. Not until the 2020s did advances in generative AI (artificial intelligence) trained on LLM (large language models) mean machines alone could improve on what was done in 1945-1946. Of course, an AI powered machine (in the form of a static device such as a speaker) could not add meaning by the use of NVC (nonverbal communication such as gestures or facial expressions) as is possible for a flesh & blood interpreter but as the occasionally disturbing “deep fake” videos illustrate, NVC certainly is possible on screen and with advances in robotics, it will be only a matter of time before such things can be done in three dimensions. Now, we can all carry in our pockets a device able accurately (and even idiosyncratically) to translate dozens of languages as text or voice so the days of the profession of interpreter being a good career choice for a gifted linguist may be numbered.
Before the
13 Nuremberg Trials (the subsequent 12 conducted between 1946-1949), there had
been only limited experiments with simultaneous translation. Historically, the need in international
relations had been limited because French had long been the “official language
of diplomacy” and the first notable shift came with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920)
and subsequently the League of Nations (1920-1946), the British succeeded in
convincing the participants to conduct the proceedings in English (which really
was an indication of growing US influence).
At these venues, what was done came to be known as “whispered
interpretation” with an interpreter literally “whispering a translation into a
recipient’s ear.” That was less than
satisfactory and what smoothed the path to simultaneous interpretation was the
development in the 1920s of a technology ultimately purchased by IBM
(International Business Machines) and released commercially as the “IBM
Hushaphone Filene-Findlay System” (more commonly called the “International
Translator System”), first used at the ILO (International Labor Organization) conference
in Geneva in 1927. So what was done at
Nuremberg was not exactly new but it was there the system came to wider
attention and for IBM, providing (at no charge) the four tons of electronic
equipment including 300 headsets (an additional 300 were borrowed from Geneva)
and miles of cable proved a good investment, the publicity generated meaning
one of the corporation’s first sales of the system was to the UN (United
Nations) headquarters in New York. The
technology alone however was not enough and some potential interpreters who had
passed the early evaluation tests proved unsuitable because they found it
impossible to adapt to the demands imposed by the electronics; only some 5% of
the 700-odd evaluated proved viable interpreters with “the interpreters the IMT reject” sent to
what they called “Siberia” (administrative tasks or the dreary job of
translating documents). Those who made the cut spent their shifts in booths behind thick glass although the top was open so the soundproofing was only partial and the booth was located directly adjacent to the dock in which sat the defendants.
Although
there was the odd error, the interpreters were thought to have done an fine job
although not all were impressed, several entries in the diary of the British alternate
judge Norman Birkett (Later Lord Birkett, 1883–1962) revealing his opinion of
the breed: “When a perfectly futile cross-examination is
combined with a translation which murders the English language, then the misery
of the Bench is almost insupportable.” “Dubost
[French prosecutor Charles Dubost (1905–1991)] is at the microphone again,
making his final speech. He is robust and vigorous; but such is the irony of fate
that he is being translated by a stout, tenor-voiced man with the 'refayned'
and precious accents of a decaying pontiff. It recalls irresistibly a late
comer making an apology at the Vicarage Garden Party in the village, rather
than the grim and stern prosecution of the major war criminals.” “But translators are a race apart - touchy,
vain, unaccountable, full of vagaries, puffed up with self-importance of the
most explosive kind, inexpressibly egotistical, and, as a rule, violent
opponents of soap and sunlight.”
Mr Justice Birkitt always made his feelings clear.
The best-remembered for the translators was Margot Bortlin (1912-2008) and her place in the annals of the trial is due wholly to the nickname bestowed on her by journalists: “the Passionate Haystack”, the appellation soon picked by the soldiers and men on the legal teams. The “haystack” element in the nickname came from her luxuriant fair hair which, in court, she would assemble as an “updo” in a shape which (at least in the minds of the men watching) recalled a haystack and such was the upper volume she was compelled to wear the headband of her headphones around the back of her head rather than atop as was the usual practice. These days, observers of such things playfully might describe her hair as “an installation”. The “passionate” part was a tribute to her style of translation, said by Dr Francesca Gaiba (b 1971) in The Origins of Simultaneous Interpreting: The Nuremberg Trial (1998) to have been delivered “with great emphasis, smiling and frowning, with sweeping gestures and dramatic vocal inflections.” It's not known if the Passionate Haystack had any theatrical training but her use of NVC must have been striking compared with the performances of her colleagues who tended to sit inertly and speak in an unrelenting monotone. Intriguingly, the journalist & author Rebecca West (1892–1983), no stranger to men's rich lexicon of sexist disparagement, who covered the trial made only an oblique reference to the drama in the delivery, reporting: “When it is divulged that one of the most gifted interpreters, a handsome young woman from Wisconsin, is known as the Passionate Haystack, care is taken to point out that it implies no reflection on her temperament but only a tribute to a remarkable hair-do.” Wisconsin produces almost a quarter of the nation's butter and cheese so is a state of many haystacks.
