Rubricate

Rubricate (pronounced roo-bri-keyt)

(1) To mark or color with red; to adorn with red; to redden.

(2) To furnish with or regulate by rubrics.

(3) To write in the form of a rubric.

(4) In publishing, to print (a book or manuscript) with red titles, headings etc; to illuminate a manuscript with red letters.

1560–1570: Either from the perfect passive participle of the Latin verb rūbrīcō (to paint red) or from the Late Latin rūbrīcātus, past participle of rūbrīcāre (to color red), the construct being rūbrīc(a) (red ocher; red earth) + -ātus.  The Latin suffix -ātus was from the Proto-Italic -ātos, from the primitive Indo-European -ehtos.  It’s regarded as a "pseudo-participle" and perhaps related to –tus although though similar formations in other Indo-European languages indicate it was distinct from it already in early Indo-European times.  It was cognate with the Proto-Slavic –atъ and the Proto-Germanic -ōdaz (the English form being -ed (having).  The feminine form was –āta, the neuter –ātum and it was used to form adjectives from nouns indicating the possession of a thing or a quality.  Rubricate & rubricating are verbs, rubricated is a verb & adjective and rubrication & rubricator are nouns.

Rubic (rubrick the obsolete spelling) was from the Middle English rubriche & rubrike, from the Old French rubrique, from Latin rūbrīca (red ochre; red earth), the substance used to make red letters, from ruber (red), from the primitive Indo-European hrewdh.  Rubic came widely to be used, derived mostly from the sense of “giving emphasis or illumination to the text”.  In ecclesiastical printing, a “church text with rubrics” was one with the directions for a religious service printed in red.  This extended to secular publishing when used of a heading in a book or something highlighted in red which led to the general use as (1) a title of a category or a class, (2) an established rule or custom; a guideline.  By extension it came to describe (3) in education, a set of scoring criteria for evaluating a pupil’s work and the associated comments and (4) the flourish appearing after a signature.

The comparative is more rubricate and the superlative most rubricate.  Lindsay Lohan illustrates the nuances:

(1) Naturally rubricated.
(2) De-rubricated.
(3) Re-rubricated.
(4) Highly rubricated.

The popularity of red among Ferrari buyers has declined from the highs of the 1990s (and it was in this decade the phrase “resale red” was popularized) when fewer than two in ten were ordered in any other color but even today some 40% of Ferraris leave the factor finished in some shade of red.  Sliver, black, bright yellow and darker blues now attract buyers and noting this, the factory has in recent years launched new models in a variety of colors, the debut of the 488 Pista Spider at the 2018 Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance using a white car trimmed in black in Alcantara and leather, an unfortunately neglected combination.

Ferrari 488 Pista Spider, 2018 Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance.

Recent trends notwithstanding, red probably still is lodged in the public imagination as the color of a Ferrari and the origins of that long pre-date the brand, the motor-car and perhaps even the Italian state.  Quite how red became the Italian national color is contested among historians but the tale most Italians prefer is that of Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-1882), an Italian nationalist general and politician.  Already famous for his exploits in Brazil, Uruguay and elsewhere in Europe, the legend of Garibaldi was created by his personal command of many of the military campaigns which led eventually to Italian unification in 1871 and his reputation as a romantic revolutionary has flourished because historians have seemed always anxious to present his military adventures as noble causes; unlike many pragmatic politicians of his time, Garibaldi longed for a united country and believed in miracles.

Portrait of Giuseppe Garibaldi (wearing garibaldino) during the landing of Thousand at Marsala (1860), oil on canvas by Induno, Gerolamo (1827-1890), Museo del Risorgimento, Turin.

Garibaldi’s part in the movement for Italian unification (known as il Risorgimento (Rising Again)) also added to the lexicon of paramilitary fashion.  His followers were known as the Garibaldini and in lieu of a uniform, they wore the red shirts he favored, the popular legend being it was to ensure they weren’t distracted from fighting were their blood to be spilled although it’s said that during his time in Uruguay, he wore the red shirts used by the butchers from a nearby slaughterhouse.  It was also an indication the campaign was a popular insurrection, not one fought by conventional military maneuvers or with traditional formations because, as the red-coated British soldiers had discovered, red wasn’t a good color to wear on a battlefield.  The word Garibaldino (plural Garibaldini) is used to refer to any volunteer soldier who served in the cause and the red shirts (which were never standardized in shade, style or cut) are often called garibaldino shirts or just garibaldinos.  From that point onwards, red began to be adopted as a symbol of many things Italian.

Le Mans 24-hour winning 1956 Jaguar D-Type in Ecurie Ecosse livery (known informally as Scottish Racing Blue)  In 2016 it sold at auction for US$22 million.

Il Risorgimento however can’t much in 1900 have occupied the minds of the members of the AIACR (the Association Internationale des Automobile Clubs Reconnus (International Association of Recognized Automobile Clubs), predecessor of the FIA (the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (International Automobile Federation)) because, displaying an ineptitude the FIA has of late turned into a mission statement, the color red was allocated to the United States as the official shade to be used on their racing cars.  The Belgiums were granted yellow, the French blue, the Germans white and the British Green and it wasn’t until 1907 the Italians were able to claim the right to red and these colors would sometimes be an issue in the years to come.  In 1934, Mercedes-Benz cars appeared in raw aluminum and the myth developed that the mechanics had to work overnight scraping off the thick layers of white paint so the machines would comply with the formula’s weight limit but the truth is less romantic. The factory simply didn’t wish to apply paint and the cars appeared at the track unpainted well before the weight limit was imposed, the company successfully arguing that in heraldry, silver and white are the same tincture (color), known as Argent.  The Nazis having taken power, the attitude “don’t argue with the Germans” was settling over Europe and the authorities relented.  Thus was born the era of the “silver arrows”, the all-conquering, aluminum-skinned grand-prix cars which would dominate the circuits in the 1930s and return for two winning seasons two decades later and the idea that white could be silver may have inspired the Nazis who for years argued (with gradually diminishing returns) that black was white.  The FIA also didn’t push the point in the 1950s when the Edinburgh-based Ecurie Ecosse (Scotland Stable) requested to race in the blue and white livery of the flag of Scotland, noting the pre World War I precedent of a Scottish outfit which had competed under a blue tartan.  Notably darker than French Racing Blue, Ecurie Ecosse argued the color really was a variation of green (although the real reason was they thought British Racing Green (BRG) was too identifiably “English”) and the request was approved, proving that if white can be silver, blue can be green.  In 1968, the system began to be abandoned under pressure from teams which wanted to use the corporate colors of their sponsors and that proved the thin end of the wedge, almost unrestricted advertising appearing within years.

But even when adorned with the logos of sponsors, Ferrari stuck to red.  Ferrari has sold road-cars (initially without great enthusiasm) to customers since 1947 and it’s impossible to compile a definitive list of all of the shades of red used over the decades given (1) the changes in the composition of paint which subtlety have altered the exact tincture, even of colors which retained the same designation (2) the sketchiness of the factory’s early records of such things and (3) the number of vehicles painted to special order, some of which used one-off shades.  However, Rossoautomobili compiled an illustrated guide to a dozen-odd which are said to be representative of the variations in rosso (red), all being rubricated although some are more rubricated than others; their indicative list including:

Rosso Barchetta (Little Boat Red): A darker shade of red.  Barchetta is Italian for “little boat”, an allusion to the shape Ferrari’s early (late 1940s) race cars.

Rosso Berlinetta (Coupé Red): A recent addition which takes advantage of newer techniques, permitting a triple-layer finish which sparkles in direct sunlight.  On the options sheet it lists at €20.000 (US$21,200).  In translation, berlinetta is literally “a small saloon” but in the Italian way of things is to applied to coupés.

1965 Ferrari 275 GTB (short-nose) in Rosso Cina.

Rosso Cina (China Red): Another of the darker hues which many would think of as a burgundy or maroon.  Non-metallic, it was introduced during the 1960s, the era of the 275 and 330 series cars and was reputedly a tribute to the red used on some fine Chinese porcelain held in Italian museums.

Rosso Dino: Another artifact from the 1960s, this one was discontinued in the 1970s before being re-introduced early in the twenty-first century and it remains part of Ferrari’s historical colour palette.  It straddles that area between red and orange, the name a tribute to Alfredo Ferrari (nicknamed Alfredino or Dino) 1932-1956; son of il Commendatore, Enzo Ferrari (1898-1987).

Rosso Fiorano (Fiorano Red): A darker shade named after Ferrari’s test track Pista di Fiorano.

Rosso Magma (Lava Red): A very metallic shade which was originally a Maserati part-number, added through the factory’s "Tailor Made" programme for selected models.  The name summons the image of the red-hot lava which flows from the earth’s magma chambers during volcanic eruptions.

2014 Ferrari LaFerrari in Rossa Vinaccia.

Rosso Vinaccia (Red Wine): The factory insists this must be thought a red although most might at first sight think it a purple.  The link lies in the literal translation as “red wine” but rather than the drops, the inspiration came from the detritus, the remains of the grapes after the juice is extracted.

Rosso Maranello Opaco (Matte Maranello Red): Reflecting the fad in recent decades for matte-finish paints (which seems to date from the idea that the military’s stealth technology could be used to absorb rather than reflect the radar waves police use in speed-limit enforcement), this is based on the metallic triple-layer Rosso Maranello. 

Rosso Metallizzato (Metallic Red): Dark almost to the point of suggesting a hint of purple, it’s one of the darkest shades of red on the option sheet.

Rosso Mugello (Mugello Red): Named after the Autodromo Internazionale del Mugello, this is both darker and a little more subdued than most reds.

Rosso Portofino (Portofino Red): Introduced as the signature shade of the Ferrari Portofino in 2017, it’s in the traditional vein and probably only experts can pick the difference.

1972 Dino 246 GT by Ferrari in Rosso Corsa.

Rosso Corsa (Racing Red): The classic Italian Racing Red, the original, and to many the definitive Ferrari color.

Rosso Scuderia (Factory Team Red): The especially bright Rosso Scuderia will be familiar to many as the exact color used by the Scuderia Ferrari (the factory racing team) for the Formula 1 cars.  In certain light conditions, it tend to orange.

Rosso Singapore (Singapore Red): Reflecting the increasing importance of the markets in the Far East, Rosso Singapore first appeared on a "Tailor Made" Ferrari commissioned by a dealer to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Singapore.

Rubino Micalizzato (Micalised Ruby): A dark and most subdued red (which is described as a “ruby”), it’s available only on request and doesn’t appear on the factory’s color charts.

Italian Racing Red: 1950 Ferrari 375 FI (left) & 1960 Ferrari 246 F1 (right).

The 375 was built to contest Formula One during the immediate post-war era when the rules permitted engines to be either 4.5 liters (275 cubic inch, naturally aspirated) or 1.5 litres (92 cubic inch, supercharged).  Although down on power compared with the supercharged BRM V16, the 4.5 litre V12 Ferrari proved more reliable and was the first in a series of classic front-engined roadsters which endured until 1960.  In 1960, a 246 F1 using a 2.4 litre (147 cubic inch) V6 was the last front-engined machine to win a Formula 1 grand prix, taking the checkered flag at the Italian Grand Prix (most of the mid-engined competition having withdrawn over safety concerns about the fast Monza circuit).

Mini

Mini (pronounce min-ee)

(1) A skirt or dress with a hemline well above the knee, popular since the 1960s.

(2) A small car, build by Austin, Morris, associated companies and successor corporations between 1959-2000.  Later reprised by BMW in a retro-interpretation.

(3) As minicomputer, a generalized (historic) descriptor for a multi-node computer system smaller than a mainframe; the colloquial term mini was rendered meaningless by technological change (Briefly, personal computers (PC) were known as micros).

(4) A term for anything of a small, reduced, or miniature size.

Early 1900s: A shorted form of miniature, ultimately from the Latin minium (red lead; vermilion), a development influenced by the similarity to minimum and minus.  In English, miniature was borrowed from the late sixteenth century Italian miniatura (manuscript illumination), from miniare (rubricate; to illuminate), from the Latin miniō (to color red), from minium (red lead).  Although uncertain, the source of minium is thought to be Iberian; the vivid shade of vermilion was used to mark particular words in manuscripts.  Despite the almost universal consensus mini is a creation of twentieth-century, there is a suggested link in the 1890s connected with Yiddish and Hebrew.

As a prefix, mini- is a word-forming element meaning "miniature, minor", again abstracted from miniature, with the sense presumed to have been influenced by minimum.  The vogue for mini- as a prefix in English word creation dates from the early 1960s, the prime influences thought to be (1) the small British car, (2) the dresses & skirts with high-hemlines and (3) developments in the hardware of electronic components which permitted smaller versions of products to be created as low-cost consumer products although there had been earlier use, a minicam (a miniature camera) advertised as early as 1937.  The mini-skirt (skirt with a hem-line well above the knee) dates from 1965 and the first use of mini-series (television series of short duration and on a single theme) was labelled such in 1971 and since then, mini- has been prefixed to just about everything possible.  To Bridget Jones (from Bridget Jones's Diary (1996) a novel by Helen Fielding (b 1958)), a mini-break was a very short holiday; in previous use in lawn tennis it referred to a tiebreak, a point won against the server when ahead.

Jean Shrimpton and the mini-skirt

Jean Shrimpton, Flemington Racecourse, Melbourne, 1965.

The Victorian Racing Club (VRC) had in 1962 added Fashions on the Field to the Melbourne’s Spring Racing Carnival at Flemington and for three years, women showed up with the usual hats and accessories, including gloves and stockings, then de rigueur for ladies of the Melbourne establishment.  Then on the VRC’s Derby Day in 1965, English model Jean Shrimpton (b 1942) wore a white mini, its hem a daring four inches (100 mm) above the knee.  It caused stir.

The moment has since been described as the pivotal moment for the introduction of the mini to an international audience which is probably overstating things but for Melbourne it was certainly quite a moment.  Anthropologists have documented evidence of the mini in a variety of cultures over the last 4000 odd years so, except perhaps in Melbourne, circa 1965, it was nothing new but that didn’t stop the fashion industry having a squabble about who “invented” the mini.  French designer André Courrèges (1923-2016) explicitly claimed the honor, accusing his London rival to the claim, Mary Quant (b 1930) of merely “commercializing it”.  Courrèges had shown minis at shows in both 1964 and 1965 and his sketches date from 1961.  Quant’s designs are even earlier but given the anthropologists’ findings, it seems a sterile argument.

Minimalism: Lindsay Lohan and the possibilities of the mini.

The Mini

1962 Riley Elf.

The British Motor Corporation (BMC) first released their Mini in 1959, the Morris version called the Mini Minor (a link to the larger Minor, a model then in production) while the companion Austin was the Seven, a re-use of the name of a tiny car of the inter-war years.  The Mini name however caught on and the Seven was re-named Mini early in 1962 although the up-market (and, with modifications to the body, slightly more than merely badge-engineered) versions by Riley and Wolseley were never called Mini, instead adopting names either from or hinting at their more independent past: the Elf and Hornet respectively.  The Mini name was in 1969 separated from Austin and Morris, marketed as stand-alone marque until 1980 when the Austin name was again appended, an arrangement which lasted until 1988 when finally it reverted to Mini although some were badged as Rovers for export markets.  The Mini remained in production until 2000, long before then antiquated but still out-lasting the Metro, its intended successor.

1969 Austin Maxi 1500.

The allure of the Mini name obviously impressed BMC.  By 1969, BMC had, along with a few others, been absorbed into the Leyland conglomerate and the first release of the merged entity was in the same linguistic tradition: The Maxi.  A harbinger of what was to come, the Maxi encapsulated all that would go wrong within Leyland during the 1970s; a good idea, full of advanced features, poorly developed, badly built, unattractive and with an inadequate service network.  The design was so clever that to this day the space utilization has rarely been matched and had it been a Renault or a Citroën, the ungainly appearance and underpowered engine might have been forgiven because of the functionality but the poor quality control, lack of refinement and clunky aspects of some of the drivetrain meant success was only ever modest.  Like much of what Leyland did, the Maxi should have been a great success but even car thieves avoided the thing; for much of its life it was reported as the UK's least stolen vehicle.          

1979 Vanden Plas Mini (a possibly "outlaw" project by Leyland's outpost in South Africa).

Curiously, given the fondness of BMC (and subsequently Leyland) for badge-engineering, there was never an MG version of the Mini (although a couple of interpretations were privately built), the competition potential explored by a joint-venture with the Formula One constructors, Cooper, the name still used for some versions of the current BMW Mini.  Nor was there a luxury version finished by coachbuilders Vanden Plas which, with the addition of much timber veneer and leather to mundane vehicles, provided the parent corporations with highly profitable status-symbols with which to delight the middle-class although there was one "outlaw".  Between August 1978-September 1979, Leyland's South African operation (Leykor) offered a Vanden Plas Mini.  It used the 1098cm³ A-Series engine, a four-speed manual transmission and drum brakes all round.  Available only in a metallic bronze with gold basket weave side-graphics (shades of brown seemed to stalk the 1970s), standard equipment included a folding sunroof, matt-black grille with chrome surround, tinted glass, twin chrome door mirrors, a chrome exhaust tip, mud-flaps and a dipping rear view mirror.  The interior appointments weren't up to the standard of the English VDPs but there was cashmere pure wool upholstery, a walnut veneer dashboard with twin glove boxes, a leather bound steering wheel and mahogany cut-pile carpets.  Apparently, the project was shut down when London got to hear about it.   In the home market, third-party suppliers of veneer and leather such as Radford found a market among those who appreciated the Mini's compact practicality but found its stark functionalism just too austere. 

The Twini

Mini Coopers (1275 S) through the cutting, Mount Panorama, Bathurst, Australia, 1966.

In that year's Gallaher 500, Mini Coopers finished first to ninth.  It was the last occasion on which anything with a naturally-aspirated four-cylinder engine would win the annual endurance classic, an event which has since be won on all but a handful of occasions by V8-powered cars (memorably a V12 Jaguar XJS triumphed in 1985 when Conrod Straight was still at it full length), a statistic distorted somewhat by the rule change in 1995 which stipulated only V8s were allowed to run.    

Although it seemed improbable when the Mini was released in 1959 as a small, utilitarian economy car, the performance potential proved extraordinary; in rallies and on race tracks it was a first-rate competitor for over a decade, remaining popular in many forms of competition to this day.  The joint venture with the Formula One constructor Cooper provided the basis for most of the success but by far the most intriguing possibility for more speed was the model which was never developed beyond the prototype stage: the twin-engined Twini.

Prototype twin-engined Moke while undergoing snow testing, 1962.

It wasn’t actually a novel approach.  BMC, inspired apparently by English racing driver Paul Emery (1916–1993) who in 1961 had built a twin-engined Mini, used the Mini’s underpinnings to create an all-purpose cross-country vehicle, the Moke, equipped with a second engine and coupled controls which, officially, was an “an engineering exercise” but had actually been built to interest the Ministry of Defence in the idea of a cheap, all-wheel drive utility vehicle, so light and compact it could be carried by small transport aircraft and serviced anywhere in the world.  The army did test the Moke and were impressed by its capabilities and the flexibility the design offered but ultimately rejected the concept because the lack of ground-clearance limited the terrain to which it could be deployed.  Based on the low-slung Mini, that was one thing which couldn’t easily be rectified.  Instead, using just a single engine in a front-wheel-drive (FWD) configuration, the Moke was re-purposed as a civilian model, staying in production between 1964-1989 and offered in various markets.  Such is the interest in the design that several companies have resumed production, including in electric form and it remains available today.

Cutaway drawing of Cooper’s Twini.

John Cooper (1923-2000), aware of previous twin-engined racing cars,  had tested the prototype military Moke and immediately understood the potential the layout offered for the Mini (ground clearance not a matter of concern on race tracks) and within six weeks the Cooper factory had constructed a prototype.  To provide the desired characteristics, the rear engine was larger and more powerful, the combination, in a car weighing less than 1600 lb (725 kg), delivering a power-to-weight ratio similar to a contemporary Ferrari Berlinetta and to complete the drive-train, two separate gearboxes with matched ratios were fitted.  Typically Cooper, it was a well thought-out design.  The lines for the brake and clutch hydraulics and those of the main electrical feed to the battery were run along the right-hand reinforcing member below the right-hand door while on the left side were the oil and water leads, the fuel supply line to both engines fed from a central tank.  The electrical harness was ducted through the roof section and there was a central throttle link, control of the rear carburetors being taken from the accelerator, via the front engine linkage, back through the centre of the car.  It sounded intricate but the distances were short and everything worked.

Twini replica.

John Cooper immediately began testing the Twini, evaluating its potential for competition and as was done with race cars in those happy days, that testing was on public roads where it proved to be fast, surprisingly easy to handle and well-balanced.  Unfortunately, de-bugging wasn't complete and during one night session, the rear engine seized which resulting in a rollover, Cooper seriously injured and the car destroyed.  Both BMC and Cooper abandoned the project because the standard Mini-Coopers were proving highly successful and to qualify for any sanctioned competition, at least one hundred Twinis would have to have been built and neither organization could devote the necessary resources for development or production, especially because no research had been done to work out whether a market existed for such a thing, were it sold at a price which guaranteed at least it would break even.

Twini built by Downton Engineering.  Driven by Sir John Whitmore (1937– 2017) &  Paul Frère (1917–2008) in the 1963 Targa Florio, it finished 27th and 5th in class.

The concept however did intrigue others interested in entering events which accepted one-offs with no homologation rules stipulating minimum production volumes.  Downton Engineering built one and contested the 1963 Targa Florio where it proved fast but fragile, plagued by an overheating rear-engine and the bugbear of previous twin-engined racing cars: excessive tire wear.  It finished 27^th (and last) but it did finish, unlike some of the more illustrious thoroughbreds which fell by the wayside.  Interestingly, the Downton engineers choose to use a pair of the 998 cm³ (61 cubic inch) versions of the BMC A-Series engine which was a regular production iteration and thus in the under-square (long stroke) configuration typical of almost all the A-Series.  The long stroke tradition in British engines was a hangover from the time when the road-taxation system was based on the cylinder bore, a method which had simplicity and ease of administration to commend it but little else, generations of British engines distinguished by their dreary, slow-revving characteristics.  The long stroke design did however provide good torque over a wide engine-speed range and on road-course like the Targa Florio, run over a mountainous Sicilian circuit, the ample torque spread would have appealed more to drivers than ultimate top-end power.  For that reason, although examples of the oversquare 1071 cm³ (65 cubic inch) versions were available, it was newly developed and a still uncertain quantity and never considered for installation.  The 1071 was used in the Mini Cooper S only during 1963-1964 (with a companion 970 cm³ (61 cubic inch) version created for use in events with a 1000 cm³ capacity limit) and the pair are a footnote in A-Series history as the only over-square versions released for sale

Twin-engined BMW Mini (Binni?).

In the era, it’s thought around six Twinis were built (and there have been a few since) but the concept proved irresistible and twin-engined versions of the "new" Mini (built since 2000 by BMW) have been made.  It was fitting that idea was replicated because what was striking in 2000 when BMW first displayed their Mini was that its lines were actually closer to some of the original conceptual sketches from the 1950s than was the BMC Mini on its debut.  BMW, like others, of course now routinely add electric motors to fossil-fuel powered cars so in that sense twin (indeed, sometimes multi-) engined cars are now common but to use more than one piston engine remains rare.  Except for the very specialized place which is the drag-strip, the only successful examples have been off-road or commercial vehicles and as John Cooper and a host of others came to understand, while the advantages were there to be had, there were easier, more practical ways in which they could be gained.  Unfortunately, so inherent were the drawbacks that the problems proved insoluble.

Incarnadine

Incarnadine (pronounced in-kahr-nuh-dahyn, in-kahr-nuh-din or in-kahr-nuh-deen)

(1) A color classically blood-red but for commercial purposes also described as variations in the range of crimson, flesh-colored, pale pink etc.

(2) To make incarnadine; to tinge or stain with a reddish hue.

(3) In figurative use, bloodstained, bloody

1585–1595: From the Middle French, the feminine of incarnadin (flesh-colored), from the dialectal Italian incarnadino, a variant of incarnatino (carnation; flesh-colored), the construct being incarnat(o) (embodied; made flesh (the sense most familiar in ecclesiastical use in the form “incarnate”, from the Late Latin incarnātus (made flesh, incarnate)) + -ino.  The Italian suffix -ino was from the Latin -īnus, from the primitive Indo-European -iHnos (and comparable with the English -ine).  It was used (1) to form adjectival diminutives, (2) to indicate a profession, (3) to indicate an ethnic or geographical origin and (4) to indicate tools or instruments.  Incarnato was from Ecclesiastical Latin and the Late Latin incarnātus (having been made incarnate), the perfect passive participle of incarnō (to become or make incarnate; to make into flesh), the construct being in- (in, inside, within) + carō (flesh, meat; body (and ultimately from the primitive Indo-European ker & sker- (to cut off)) + -ō (the suffix used to form regular first-conjugation verbs).  The noun and verb were derived from the adjective and the senses (1) of the blood-red colour of raw flesh, (2) the figurative blood-stained; bloody (most famously as “blood on one’s hands”) and the noun use (blood-red colour of raw flesh) are the legacy of William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) use of the word as a verb in the blood-soaked Macbeth (circa 1606).  In the technical language of the Roman Catholic Church, incardinate has the specific technical meanings (1) to raise someone to the rank of cardinal & (2) to enroll someone as a priest attached to a particular church.  Incarnadine is a noun, verb & adjective and incarnadined & incarnadining are verbs & adjectives; the noun plural is incarnadines.

The Shakespeare effect

William Shakespeare: Macbeth Act 2, Scene 2, 54–60:

[Knocking within] Macbeth:

Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? Hah! They pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.

Shakespeare wasn’t actually unusual in his inventive ways with words, English then far from standardized and such “dictionaries” as existed sometimes offering different spellings and conflicting meanings.  Shakespeare probably felt no more entitled than any other writer to kick the language around but because what he wrote is celebrated as a core of the Western literary canon, what he did is both better remembered and granted a certain authority.  His attitude was probably something like the “low-level peaks & pokes” database administrators used to be able to use to solve immediate problems, even if such tricks weren't in the manual.  So, in the early 1600s, “the multitudinous seas incarnadine” would have been novel and what Shakespeare did was make a verb of incarnadine, a sixteenth century adjective meaning "pink", the sense derived from the Latin root carn- ("of flesh" and thus, in its derivatives, "the color of flesh").  “To incarnadine” thus meant turn something pink or light red and in the bard’s vivid imagery Macbeth imagines his bloodied hands turning Neptune's green ocean.  Under the influence of Shakespeare’s text, the verb and adjective have both come to refer to the color of blood itself (a range of crimson tones) rather than to the light red of a blood-stained sea.  This extends to the play as psychological drama, Macbeth coming to realize that no matter what, his guilt can never be washed off, even if the blood can be cleaned from his hands.  Instead, his guilt will poison the world around him for which the wide ocean is a metaphor and already in his hallucinations he sees his hands plucking out his eyes in retribution for the murder of Duncan.

Shakespeare would have approved the verbing: Lindsay Lohan incarnadining her lips, Playboy magazine photo-shoot, 2011.

However, for whatever reason,  Shakespeare didn’t use the word again although there was no shortage of death and blood in the dozen-odd plays he wrote after Macbeth and in all that he wrote, it’s the only occasion on which the word appears.  Maybe he didn’t like the effect or perhaps his critics were critical but it's surprising it didn't re-appear because his opportunities to seek some alternative to “red”, “crimson” or “scarlet” were not infrequent, some 74 unfortunate souls dying in his plays in the stage-scenes alone with the inherently bloody business of stabbing a popular means of dispatch.  Not surprisingly then, the word “blood” appears in Shakespeare's works 673 times.  The author’s neglect of incarnadine was matched by that of the general population and since the nineteenth century its most usual appearance in text has been in lists of obsolete and antique words and were it not for lexicographers preserving it thus, it might now be regarded as extinct which, for most practical purposes, it otherwise is.

Crooked Hillary Clinton in incarnadine pantsuit, a practical color in that one can wipe the blood from one’s hands without it showing.

Shakespeare makes Lady Macbeth a central character responsible for much violence and bloodshed yet one who avoids blood literally ending up on her hands.  It’s Lady Macbeth who goads and manipulates her husband into killing King Duncan so he may seize the throne of Scotland and make her queen.  She even plans the murder, taking part in the plot by making it appear others are responsible.  After the foul deed, Lady Macbeth begins to suffer from her role in the murder, haunted by visions of blood on her hands which she tries to wash off, symbolizing her inability to rid herself of the guilt she feels.

Color contrast ratios of incarnadine against while and black backgrounds.

It is a truly lovely color, a deep rich red less orange than the classic brick, darker than a bright cherry and lighter than a Merlot although those disturbed by such things might see also the color of raw steak and spilled blood.  It has survived as a technical term used in color charts, incarnadine listed as Hex #aa0022 (Color Mixture: Pink and Red & Color Hue/Base color: Red).  In the RGB color code model, Hex #aa0022 Color Code is created after adding 66.67% red color, 0% green color and 13.33% blue color.  Hex #aa0022 Color code in the CMYK color (process color) code model is generated after subtraction of 0% cyan, 100% magenta, 80% yellow and 33% black.  It’s a handy word for the manufacturers because it provides something different for the color charts, other variations of red including blood red, brick red, burgundy, cardinal, carmine, carnation, cerise, cherry, cherry red, Chinese red, cinnabar, claret, crimson, damask, fire brick, fire engine red, flame, flamingo, fuchsia, garnet, geranium, gules, hot pink, incarnadine, Indian red, magenta, ruddle, maroon, misty, mantle, rose, nacarat, oxblood, pillar-box red, pink, flush, Pompeian red, poppy, raspberry, red violet, rose, rouge, ruby, ruddy, salmon, sanguine, scarlet, shocking pink, rust, stammel, strawberry, Turkey red, rubricate, bloody, blooming, Venetian red, vermillion, vinaceous, vinous, violet & wine.