Lectern

Lectern (pronounced lek-tern)

(1) A reading desk in a church on which is placed the Bible and from which lessons are read during the church service.

(2) A stand (usually with a slanted top), used to hold a book, papers, speech, manuscript, etc, sometimes adjustable in height to suit the stature of different speakers.

1400s: From the late Middle English lectryn, from the Middle English lectron, lectrone and the early fourteenth century lettorne & letron, from the Middle French letrun, from the Old French leitrun & lettrun, from the Medieval Latin lēctrīnum from the Late Latin lēctrum (lectern), from lectus (from which English gained lecture), the construct being the Classical Latin leg(ere) (to read) (or legō (I read)) + -trum (the instrumental suffix).  The Latin legere (to read (literally "to gather, choose") was from the primitive Indo-European root leg- (to collect, gather) which begat derivatives meaning "to speak” (in the sense of “to pick out words”).  In linguistics, the process by which in the fifteenth century the modern form evolved from the Middle English is called a partial re-Latinization.  Lectern is a noun; the noun plural is lecterns.

Crooked Hillary Clinton (in pantsuits), at the podium, during her acclaimed lecture tour “The significance of the wingspan in birds & airplane design”.

Some words are either confused with lectern or used interchangeably, in one case to the point there may have been a meaning shift.  In English use, a lectern was originally a stand on which was placed an open Bible.  Made usually either from timber or brass (depending on the wealth or status of the church), they were fashioned at an angle which was comfortable for reading and included some sort of ledge or stays at the bottom to prevent the book sliding off.  A pulpit (inter alia "a raised platform in a church, usually partially enclosed to just above waist height)" was where the minister (priest, vicar, preacher etc) stood when delivering the sermon and in many cases, there were lecterns within pulpits.  Pulpit was from the Middle English pulpit, from the Old French pulpite and the Latin pulpitum (platform).  Podium (inter alia "a platform on which to stand; any low platform or dais") was a general term for any raised platform used by one or more persons.  A lectern might be placed upon a podium and in an architectural sense most pulpits appear on a permanent structure which is podium-like although the term is not part of the language of traditional church architecture.  Podium was from the Latin podium, from the Ancient Greek πόδιον (pódion) (base), from the diminutive of πούς (poús) (foot) and was an evolution of podion (foot of a vase).  In formal settings, US use often prefers podium and one of the world's more famous podiums is that used for the White House's press briefings, a place that has proved a launching pad for several subsequent careers in political commentary.  Some press secretaries have handled the role with aplomb and some have been less than successful including Donald Trump's (b 1946; US president 2016-2021) first appointee Sean Spicer (b 1971; White House Press Secretary & Communications Director 2017), whose brief tenure was characterized as "weaponizing the podium", memorably parodied by the Saturday Night Live (SNL) crew.   

Lindsay Lohan at a lectern some might call a rostrum, World Music Awards, 2006.

A dais (inter alia "a raised platform in a room for a high table, a seat of honor, a throne, or other dignified occupancy, such as ancestral statues or a similar platform supporting a lectern or pulpit") is for most practical purposes a podium and thus often effectively a synonym although dais probably tends to be used of structures thought more grand or associated with more important individuals (dead or alive).  There's also a literature detailing support of or objections to the various pronunciations (dey-is, dahy-is & deys-s), most of which are class or education-based.  Dais was from the Middle English deis, from the Anglo-Norman deis, from the Old French deis & dois (from which modern French gained dais), from the Latin discum, accusative singular of discus (discus, disc, quoit; dish) and the Late Latin discum (table), from the Ancient Greek δίσκος (dískos) (discus, disc; tray), from δικεῖν (dikeîn),(to cast, to throw; to strike).  It was cognate with the Italian desco and the Occitan des.

A rostrum (inter alia "a structure used by dignitaries, orchestral conductors etc") is really a lectern with a built in dais.  It's thus an elaborate lectern.  Rostrum was a learned borrowing from the Latin rōstrum (beak, snout), the construct being from rōd(ō) (gnaw) + -trum, from the primitive Indo-European rehd- + -trom.  The early uses were in zoology (beak, snout etc) and naval architecture (eg the prow of a warship), the use in sense of lecterns a back-formation from the name of the Roman Rōstra, the platforms in the Forum from which politicians delivered their speeches (the connection is that the Rōstra were decorated with (and named for) the beaks (prows) of ships famous for being victorious in sea battles.

The ups and downs of politics: Downing Street's prime-ministerial lectern.

The Times of London published a hexaptych noting the evolution of the prime-ministerial lectern which has become a feature of recent British politics, especially the turnover at the top.  Whether any psychological meanings can be derived from the style of the cabinet maker’s craft is debatable although some did ponder Boris Johnson's (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) dark finish and the twisted nature of that used by Liz Truss (b 1975; UK prime-minister Sep-Oct 2022).  The Times did however note a few things including the modest origins of the concept in the lecterns used by Tony Blair (b 1953; UK prime-minister 1997-2007) and later by Gordon Brown (b 1951; UK prime-minister 2007-2010).  Then, the lectern was a simple, off-the-shelf item familiar to anyone who has endured PowerPoint presentations and the cables trailing over Downing Street were a reminder of those (now almost forgotten) times when WiFi wasn’t sufficiently robust to be trusted even a few steps from a building.  Also commented upon was that unlike his most recent predecessors who enjoyed their own, custom-made lectern, Rishi Sunak (b 1980; UK prime-minister since 2022) had to use a recycled item borrowed from Downing Street stocks.  That happened because the premiership of Liz Truss was so short and her demise so sudden.  In her photograph, the fallen autumnal leaves behind her seem quite poignant.

Weaponizing the podium: SNL's take on then White House Press Secretary & Communications Director Sean Spicer, 2017.

Hustings

Hustings (pronounced huhs-tingz)

(1) The temporary platform on which candidates seeking election to the UK House of Commons stood and from which they addressed the electors.

(2) Any place from which political campaign speeches are made.

(3) By extension, the campaign trail in election campaigns; the proceedings at a parliamentary election; of political campaigning in general.

(4) In certain jurisdictions, as Hustings Court, a court of law (obsolete).

Pre 1050: From the Middle English & Old English husting (meeting, council, tribunal), from the Old Danish hūs- (a house), from the eleventh century Old Norse husðing (hūsthing), the construct being hūs- + ðing (thing) (assembly; meeting), so called because it described a meeting of the men who formed the "household" of a nobleman or king (the native Anglo-Saxon for which was folc-gemot).  Husting is a noun, functioning as both singular & plural, the verb use inherently plural; the formation was originally the plural of husting (and established as the usual form by circa 1500), later construed as a singular but the spelling hustings.

On the hustings

The sense of "a temporary platform for political speeches" developed by the 1720s, apparently a reference to London's Court of Hustings, presided over by the Lord Mayor and conducted on a platform in the Guildhall.  The sense widened first to other platforms on which candidates spoke and, by the mid nineteenth century, to electoral campaigning generally, a use which appears first to have been documented in 1872 but is thought already to have been in use for some time

David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922) on the hustings, Criccieth, north Wales, 1914.

In England, the hustings evolved as physical platforms on which candidates spoke to seek the support of electors, a show of hands the usual expression of approval.  It was an informal process in the sense no records were kept of the “votes” but on the basis of the expression of support, a candidate might decide to proceed to the actual poll or decline to contest the seat and reports at the time confirm hustings were often noisy and occasionally violent affairs with more than a whiff of corruption.  The mechanism of the hustings evolved into the more structured pre-selection processes such as primaries and caucuses, the latter the closest (and now the most controversial) in form to the original.

When voting was restricted to a small fraction of the male population, there was sometimes only a single hustings in a parliamentary constituency (especially the geographically small such as the university seats) but were usually more numerous.  The arrangements were formalized by the Reform Act (1832) which somewhat extended the franchise, specifying a separate hustings for every 600 electors, the number reflecting the practical maximum capacity for buildings such as the municipal halls often used for the purpose.  An interesting aspect of the development of democracy in England is that even though voting at the hustings was limited to certain men (the rules varied but involved age, property, income or educational tests and even after the first reform act those eligible were fewer than 10% of the population), it was permitted for others (including women) to attend and view the proceedings, something like the “observer status” at the United Nations (UN), granted to various entities and even at times the odd sovereign state.  The hustings were abolished by the Ballot Act (1872) which made the secret ballot the universal mechanism of election.  The idea of public nomination by acclamation was replaced by the now familiar filing of duly executed and witnessed papers and it was at this point the stranglehold of the parties on the democratic process was effectively institutionalized, their structures evolving as much around the candidate selection process as the actual election.

In 2015, Lindsay Lohan posted on Instagram the suggestion she might be taking to the hustings, running for president in 2020.  History might have been different had Lindsay Lohan been given the launch codes for nuclear weapons.

A candidate’s performance of the platform at public meetings had long been an important part of the electoral process but the advent of photography and later, movies, added new layers, politicians increasingly borrowing the techniques used in dramatic production on stage and screen.  Politicians and their handlers quickly realized the potency of manufactured images and few were as assiduous in their creation as Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; head of state (1934-1945) and government (1933-1945) in Nazi Germany) for whom the realization of a talent for rabble-rousing public speaking came while working as a nationalistic agitator in the chaotic aftermath of the First World War.  After his release in 1925 from the far from unpleasant nine month stint in Landsberg during which he (by dictating to some with better grammar and spelling) wrote his autobiography, Hitler’s political career became more focused, in terms of both the structure and organization of the Nazi Party (Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (NSDAP, the National Socialist German Workers' Party) and his own public image, one footnote to the process his publisher’s decision to shorten the name of Hitler’s book from Viereinhalb Jahre (des Kampfes) gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit (Four and a Half Years (of Struggle) Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice) to the punchier Mein Kampf (My Struggle).  It is a dreary and repetitive work.

More significantly, he worked at honing his techniques of presentation on the hustings, aware of the effects of lighting and camera angle, deliberately he rehearsed movements and gestures to find those most appropriate to use before a live audience, developing an understanding that what was suitable before small, intimate gatherings would lose effectiveness at mass meetings.  He was interested too in the movements and stances which would translate especially well on film, contemporary notes indicating some analysis of the relationship between camera angle and effect.  Hitler’s method of rehearsal was that used by many actors: he performed in front of a mirror, trying to gauge the effectiveness of each pose.  Late in 1925, he had the photographer Heinrich Hoffmann (1885–1957) create images from a variety of angles, better to understand what would best work to appeal to those in an audience which in some cases might be seated in a surrounding circle.  Hitler studied the photographs with great interest and conscious of public perception, ordered the negatives destroyed.

Hoffman however retained the negatives, along with a number of others the Führer had indicated should shredded and published them in his memoir Hitler was my friend, a title which was probably close to the truth, the photographer part Hitler’s inner circle and the one who introduced him to the woman who would for a few, final hours be his wife, Eva Hitler (née Braun, 1912–1945).  Most of Hoffmann’s image archive was seized by the US-American military government during the Allied occupation of Germany as spoils of war and is today held mostly by the US National Archives and Records Administration.  What remained in Germany was assembled as a collection now housed in the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek (Bavarian State Library) in Munich.

The technique remains the same.  Crooked Hillary Clinton on the hustings.

Barracuda

Barracuda (pronounced bar-uh-koo-duh)

(1) Any of several elongated, predaceous, tropical and subtropical marine fishes of the genus Sphyraena, certain species of which are used for food.

(2) Slang term for a treacherous, greedy person (obsolete); slang term for one who uses harsh or predatory means to compete.

(3) A car produced by the Plymouth division of Chrysler Corporation in three generations between 1964-1974.

1670-1680: From American Spanish, thought derived from customary use in the Caribbean, borrowed from the Latin American Spanish barracuda, perhaps from a Cariban word, most likely the Valencian-Catalan barracó (snaggletooth), first recorded as barracoutha.

The 1971 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda at auction

While the 1964 Ford Mustang is credited with creating the pony-car market, it was actually the Plymouth Barracuda which came first, released seventeen days earlier.  Ford’s idea was to drape a sexy new body over an existing, low-cost, platform and drive-train and Chrysler chose the same route, using the sub-compact Valiant as Ford were using their Falcon.

1965 Ford Mustang

Unfortunately, despite the project having been in the works for years, a sudden awareness Ford were well advanced meant Chrysler’s lower-budget development was rushed.  Despite the Valiant’s platform and drive-train being in some aspects better than the Falcon, Plymouth’s Barracuda was a bit of a flop, outsold by its competitor initially by around ten to one, numbers which got worse.  While the Mustang got what was called “the body from central casting”, from the windscreen forward, the Barracuda retained the sheet-metal from the mundane Valiant, onto which was grafted a rear end which was adventurous but stylistically disconnected from the front.

1964 Plymouth Barracuda

It was an awkward discombobulation although, with the back-seat able to be folded down to transform the rear passenger compartment into a large luggage space, it was clever design.

1971 Jensen FF

The novelty of that rear-end was a giant rear window which, at 14.4 square feet (1.34m³), was at the time the largest ever installed in a production car.  In 1966, even grander glazing was seen on the Jensen Interceptor, styled by Italy’s Carrozzeria Touring, but there it was ascetically successful, the lines of the big trans-Atlantic hybrid more suited to such an expanse of glass.

1967 Plymouth Barracuda

The extraordinary success of the Mustang nevertheless encouraged Chrysler to persist and the Barracuda, though still on the Valiant platform, was re-styled for 1967, this time with the vaguely Italianesque influences seen also in 1966 in the revision to Chevrolet’s doomed, rear-engined Corvair.  As a design, it worked well and offered both notchback and convertible coachwork as well as a fastback but, because of the economic necessity of retaining some aspects of the Valiant’s structure, wasn’t able to realise the short-deck, long-hood look with which the Mustang had established the pony car design motif used still today.

1969 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am

General Motors’ (GM) answer to the Mustang wasn’t as constrained by the fiscal frugality which had imposed so many compromises on the Barracuda, the Chevrolet Camaro and the substantially similar Pontiac Firebird both introduced in 1966 with a curvaceous interpretation of the short-deck, long-hood idea which maintained a relationship with the GM’s then voguish “coke-bottle” designs.  In a twist on the pony car process, the Camaro and Firebird were built on an entirely new platform which would later be used for Chevrolet’s new competitor for the Valiant and Falcon, the Nova.  Just as the pedestrian platforms had restricted the freedom to design the Barracuda, so the Camaro’s underpinnings imposed compromises in space utilization on the Nova, a few inches of the passenger compartment sacrificed to fashion.  For 1967, Ford released an updated Mustang, visually similar to the original but notably wider, matching the Camaro and Firebird in easily accommodating big-block engines, not something Chrysler easily could do with the Barracuda.

1969 Plymouth 'Cuda 440

However, this was the 1960s and though Chrysler couldn’t easily install a big-block, they could with difficulty and so they did, most with a 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 and, in 1969, in a package now called ‘Cuda, a few with the 440 (7.2 litre).  At first glance it looked a bargain, the big engine not all that expensive but having ticked the box, the buyer then found added a number of "mandatory options" so the total package did add a hefty premium to the basic cost.  The bulk of the 440 was such that the plumbing needed for disc brakes wouldn’t fit so the monster had to be stopped with the antiquated drum-type and nor was there space for power steering, quite a sacrifice in a car with so much weight sitting atop the front wheels.  The prototype built with a manual gearbox frequently snapped so many rear suspension components the engineers were forced to insist on an automatic transmission, the fluid cushion softening the impact between torque and tarmac.  Still, in a straight line, the things were quick enough to entice almost 350 buyers.  To this day the 440 remains the second-largest engine used in a pony car, only the Pontiac 455 (7.5 litre) offering more displacement.

1968 Plymouth Barracuda Convertible

The better choice, introduced late in 1967, was an enlarged version of Chrysler’s LA, small-block V8, now bored-out to 340 cubic inches (5.6 litre); it wouldn’t be the biggest of the LA series but it was the best.  A high-revving, free-breathing thing from the days when only the most rudimentary emission controls were required, the toxic little (a relative term) 340 gave the ‘Cuda performance in a straight line barely inferior to the 440, coupled with markedly improved braking and cornering prowess.  One of the outstanding engines of the era and debatably the best small-block, it lasted, gradually detuned, until 1973 by which time interest in performance cars had declined in parallel with the engineers ability to produce them while also complying with the increasingly onerous anti-pollution rules.

1968 Hemi 'Cuda, ex factory

Of course, for some even a 440 ‘Cuda wouldn't be enough and anticipating this, in 1968, Plymouth took the metaphorical shoehorn and installed the 426 cubic inch (6.9 litre) Street Hemi V8, a (slightly) civilised version of their racing engine.  Fifty were built (though one normally reliable source claims it was seventy) and with fibreglass panels and all manner of acid-dipping tricks to reduce weight, Plymouth didn’t even try to pretend the things were intended for anywhere except the drag strip.  The power-to-weight ratio of the 1968 Hemi ‘Cudas remains the highest of the era.

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda

The third and final iteration of the Barracuda was introduced as a 1970 model and lasted until 1974.  Abandoning both the delicate lines of the second generation and the fastback body, the lines were influenced more by the Camaro than the Mustang and it was wide enough for any engine in the inventory.  This time the range comprised (1) the Barracuda which could be configured with either straight-six or one of the milder V8s, (2) the Gran 'Cuda which offered slightly more powerful V8s and some additional luxury appointments including the novelty of an overhead console (though obviously not available in the convertible) and (3) the 'Cuda which was oriented towards high-performance and available with the 340, 383, 440 and 426 units, the wide (E-body) platform able to handle any engine/transmission combination.  Perhaps the best looking of all the pony cars, sales encouragingly spiked for 1970, even the Hemi ‘Cuda attracting over 650 buyers, despite the big engine increasing the price by about a third and it would have been more popular still, had not the insurance premiums for such machines risen do high.  With this level of success, the future of the car seemed assured although the reaction of the press was not uncritical, one review of the Dodge Hemi Challenger (the ‘Cuda’s substantially similar stable-mate), finding it an example of “…lavish execution with little thought to practical application”.

1971 Plymouth 'Cuda Convertible

Circumstances however conspired to doom the ‘Cuda, the Hemi, the Challenger and almost the whole muscle car ecosystem.  Some of the pony cars would survive but for quite some time only as caricatures of their wild predecessors.  Rapidly piling up were safety and emission control regulations which were consuming an increasing proportion of manufacturers’ budgets but just as lethal was the crackdown by the insurance industry on what were admittedly dangerously overpowered cars which, by international standards, were extraordinarily cheap and often within the price range of the 17-25 year old males most prone to high-speed accidents on highways.  During 1970, the insurance industry looked at the data and adjusted the premiums.  By late 1970, were it possible to buy insurance for a Hemi ‘Cuda and its ilk, it was prohibitively expensive and sales flopped from around 650 in 1970 to barely more than a hundred the next year, of which but a dozen-odd were convertibles.

It was nearly over.  Although the Barracuda survived, the convertible and the big-block engines didn’t re-appear after 1971 and the once vibrant 340 was soon replaced by a more placid 360.  Sales continued to fall, soon below the point where the expensive to produce E-body was no longer viable, production of both Barracuda and Challenger ending in 1974.  Even without the factors which led to the extinction however, the first oil-crisis, which began in October 1973, would likely have finished them off, the Mustang having (temporarily) vacated that market segment and the Camaro and Firebird survived only because they were cheaper to build so GM could profitably maintain production at lower levels.  Later in the decade, GM would be glad about that for the Camaro and Firebird enjoyed long, profitable Indian summers.  That career wasn't shared by the Javelin, American Motors’ belated pony car which, although actually more successful than the Barracuda, outlived it only by months.

1971 Hemi 'Cuda Convertible at 2021 auction

It was as an extinct species the third generations ‘Cudas achieved their greatest success... as used cars.  In 2014, one of the twelve 1971 Hemi ‘Cuda convertibles sold at auction for US$3.5 million and in 2021, another attracted a bit of US$4.8 million without reaching the reserve.

Hearse

Hearse (pronounce hurs)

(1) A vehicle, such as a specially designed car or carriage, used to carry a coffin to a place of worship and ultimately to a cemetery or crematorium; a bier or hand-cart for conveying the dead to the grave.

(2) A triangular frame for holding candles, used at the service of Tenebrae (in Christianity (Western), a service celebrated on the evening before or early morning of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday, involving the gradual extinguishing of candles while a series of readings and psalms are chanted or recited).

(3) A framework of wood or metal placed over the coffin or tomb of the deceased and covered with a pall; also, a temporary canopy bearing wax lights and set up in a church, under which the coffin was placed during the funeral ceremonies.

(4) A hind (female deer) in the second year of her age.

(5) A grave, coffin, tomb, or sepulchral monument (obsolete).

1250–1300; From the Middle English herse, hers & herce (a flat framework for candles, hung over a coffin), from the Middle French herse (a harrow; long rake for breaking up soil, harrow; portcullis (and in churches a descriptor of those large chandeliers with some resemblance to the long prongs of a rake)), from the Old French herce, from the Medieval Latin hercia, from the Classical Latin herpicem, accusative of hirpex (harrow), a rustic word ultimately from the Oscan hirpus (wolf), said by some etymologists to be an allusion to its sharp teeth but not all agree although all seem to concur the Oscan term is related to the Latin hīrsūtus (bristly, shaggy (and the source of hirsute)).

The verb rehearse dates from circa 1300 and was from Middle English rehersen & rehercen (to give an account of, report, tell, narrate (a story); speak or write words) and by the early fourteenth century the meaning had extended to "repeat, reiterate".  The source was the Anglo-French rehearser, from the twelfth century Old French rehercier (to go over again, repeat (literally "to rake over, turn over" (soil, ground, furrows in a field))), the construct being re- (again) + hercier (to drag, trail (on the ground), be dragged along the ground; rake, harrow (land); rip, tear, wound; repeat, rehearse;" from the French forms herce & herse (a harrow).  In English, the meaning "to say over again, repeat what has already been said or written" dates from the mid-fourteenth century, the now familiar sense (as a transitive & intransitive verb) of "practice (a play, part, etc.) in private to prepare for a public performance" emerged in the 1570s.

The use of hearse to describe the vehicles carrying coffins has become so pervasive that it’s now only in ecclesiastical jargon that funeral displays or church fittings are now so-named.  The funeral display picked up the name because they typically resembled a harrow and it was only in the fifteenth century that the sense of "a portcullis" appeared in English.  From there, use extended to other temporary frameworks built over the dead to be used while ceremonies were in progress while the idea of a "vehicle for carrying a dead person to the grave" came into use in the 1640s, the adoption presumably stimulated by covering structures being added to the horse drawn carts (or biers) on which coffins had traditionally been transported uncovered.

Recent hearses of note

Lindsay Lohan in habit, emerging from hearse in Machete (2010).  The Machete hearse was based on a 1987 Cadillac Brougham (1987-1992).

Between 1931-1979, General Motors' Cadillac division offered a line called the Cadillac Commercial Chassis, a long-wheelbase, heavy-duty platform which was mechanically complete but with a partially built body (without bodywork rear of the windscreen, doors and other panels included on request).  Produced on the D platform (exclusive to Cadillac), the Commercial Chassis was used by coach-builders to create high-roofed ambulances, hearses (often called funeral coaches in the US) and cleverly designed hybrids which at short notice could be converted from ambulances to hearses or used by a coroner's staff to transport a corpse; they were popular in towns with small populations.  The early Commercial Chassis were based on the Series 355 (1931-1935) and the Series 75 (1936-1992) from 1936 and although there were specific modification to the frame, the mechanical components were always shared with the 75 which, used for the big limousines, meant costs were amortized across the ranges.  After 1980, production continued on the downsized platform but there was no longer a separate D platform, the partially bodied cars structurally identical to the mainstream line.  The landau irons (which some coachbuilders insist should be called "carriage bars") on the rear side-panels emulate in style (though not function) those used on horse-drawn carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the Mercedes-Benz 300 (the “Adenauer”; W186 (1951-1957) & W189 (1957-1962)) Cabriolet D.  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism for the fabric roof but on hearses they are merely decorative, there to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.

Funeral procession of Kim I: Kim Il-sung (1912-1994; The Great Leader of DPRK (North Korea) 1948-1994 (left) and Kim II: Kim Jong-il (1941–2011; The Dear Leader 1994-2011) (right).  Kim III (Kim Jong-un (b 1984; The Supreme Leader since 2011) is chief mourner and is here pictured with his left hand holding the wing mirror, the mounting of which identifies the cars as having probably been sold in Japan. 

In the West, the tradition is now for the coffin to be carried in a glassed-in enclosure, in effect a lengthened station-wagon, often with a raised roof.  Big station wagons are now extinct so hearses are fabricated by coach-builders usually with a large sedan or SUV as a base but in the wacky world of hearses, anything seems to be possible.  One quirky variation is pursued by Kim dynasty in the DPRK (North Korea).  There, the coffin is displayed on fluffy catafalque mounted on the roof of a limousine, something not far removed from the military tradition of using horse-drawn gun carriages.

The DPRK’s hearse appears to be a 1975 or 1976 Lincoln Continental which has been lengthened, presumably by one of the US coachbuilders with which Ford made such arrangements when the cars were new.  Given the state of US-DPRK relations since the end of the Korean War (1950-1953), the unexpected appearance of the big Lincolns attracted comment when first seen at the Great Leader’s funeral in 1994.  There were three stretched Lincolns in the cortege, all appearing to have been built in 1975 or 1976 (based on the full rear fender skirts and the five vertical bars separating the grille into six sections (the later Continentals used a narrower style)) and all would be powered by a 460 cubic inch (7.5 litre) version of Ford 385 series engine.  The wheelbase on two of the cars had been extended by an estimated 36 inches (915 mm), the other by perhaps a foot (300 mm) but all appeared equipped with fittings which suggested they’d been prepared for the Japanese market and the assumption is it’s from Japan they were exported.  That’s contrary to Japanese law but it’s known to happen, using third countries (usually China) as a first port-of-call, the practice being continued by Kim III (Kim Jong-un (b 1984; The Supreme Leader since 2011) who appears to have few problems obtain the Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royces which now adorn the presidential fleet, despite Western sanctions intended to stop such imports by the DPRK.  As the funeral of the UK’s Queen Elizabeth II illustrated, there is much symbolism in the continuity of use of the symbols and regalia of a dynastic past and should the Supreme Leader die (God forbid), it’s highly likely the Lincoln will be his hearse.

Land Rover used at the funeral Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (1921-2021).

In the narrow technical sense, the Land Rover should probably be considered a funeral bier rather than a hearse because the coffin was un-covered, the word hearse applied such vehicles only after the hearses (framed coverings used in churches) were added to funeral biers in the 1640s.  It’s a distinction unlikely to bother many and the Land Rover has been almost universally referred to as a hearse.

It may look like many a Land Rover but, remarkably, the duke tinkered with the design over sixteen years, the result a modified 2003 Defender TD5 130 chassis cab finished in a military specification green (called dark-bronze green (or GDB in army supply parlance, reflecting the color appearing as “Green, Dark Bronze" in military databases).  Functionally, the most obvious modifications are to the tray where stainless steel stanchions with buffered, laterally placed rollers were engineered to secure the coffin and fitted to a custom made catafalque, for strength fabricated in steel rather the aluminum used for most of a Land Rover’s bodywork.  It’s actually a quite thoughtful design, suitable for parade and non-parade modes of coffin conveyance.  For parades, the coffin can be carried atop the catafalque while for transport tasks, the long, external strap hinges on the heavy steel rear hatch allow a coffin to be slipped inside the bed and thus out of view.  The rear hatch opens not to either side, but down and it includes a centre brace which folds to the ground, thereby bracing the hatch flat and so providing the bearers with more convenient lateral access to the coffin as they slide it in and out.  Cut into either side of the cabin's rear are two curved rear windows, affording the attending footmen extra visibility of their load when it's atop.  As a functional device to be used by an old Navy man, the workmanship is sturdy and well-finished but there’s been no attempt to conceal or disguise the bolt-heads and rivets.  So, it was a bit more than most of the Land Rovers (“gun buses” he called them) he used on shooting parties here and there and while he had long ago told the queen “...just stick me in the back of a Land Rover and drive me to Windsor", sixteen years of mission creep followed.

Hearses by German coach builders, Pollmann of Bremen: 1959 Mercedes-Benz 300 (W189) (left & 1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) (right).

Pollmann of Bremen have a long history in the construction of Mercedes-Benz hearses and after some difficult times in the early post-war years, the Wirtschaftswunder (the German post-war economic miracle) which emerged in the 1950s encouraged them to move from utilitarian designs to something more grand and they converted a number of 300 (W186 & W189, nicknamed the “Adenauer” because Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the Federal Republic of Germany (FGR; West Germany) 1949-1963) used a number as the state limousine) models, one technical attraction being the innovative, self-levelling rear-suspension which provided a very stable load platform, regardless of the surface, something of some importance when carrying coffins.

The 600 was built on a (lengthened) 1967 short wheelbase (SWB) platform and remains a genuine one-off, the only 600 hearse ever built.  The story (which may be true), repeated whenever it’s offered for sale, is it was originally a sedan purchased by a German farmer (always referred to as Herr K) whose particular experience of the Wirtschaftswunder was the massive capital gain enjoyed when he sold his farmland for urban development.  Happy, he bought a Mercedes-Benz 600 (in champagne metallic gold) for his wife and commissioned an architect to design a house for them to enjoy.  Unfortunately, he arrived home one day to find the ungrateful hausfrau had run off with the architect and, unable to bear to keep the 600 because it was a reminder of the strumpet’s infidelity, he returned the car to the dealer to off-load.  It was sold to the coach-builders Pollmann which converted it to a hearse which seems appropriate although it's not known if the former farmer was impressed by the symbolism of the transformation.  It was for some years used for the purpose for which it was designed and has since been restored by US-based expert in all things 600esque, Karl Middelhauve.

State Jaguar XF hearse of the Royal Mews, built for the funeral of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places 1952-2022).

Elizabeth II was the first monarch of the television age and quickly grasped its implications, understanding better than many politicians of the early years of the mass-adoption of the medium that it used wisely it was a useful tool but that little good came from over-exposure.  Well acquainted too with a feeling for color, light and angle from long and sometimes doubtlessly tiresome sessions with painters and photographers, she sometimes surprised television producers with her knowledge of the technical aspects of their trade.  Her contributions the design of her own Jaguar XF hearse were those of someone who knew her funeral would be her last performance as a content provider for television and probably one which would attract the greatest audience in history.  Accordingly, the queen specified a design which would afford the best possible view of her coffin, regardless of the camera angle, so the glass would be more expansive, the roof was raised several inches from the dimension supplied originally by the royal household, the roof panel above the coffin fully glazed a particular request.  Climate change has affected the UK but it can still be relied upon sometimes to be dark and gloomy and, not knowing what the weather would offer on the day, she had the rear compartment fitted with lighting which would illuminate in a way that, if need be, there would be a clear, reflection-free view through the glass.

The state hearse is finished in Royal Claret, a specific royal-family color (and an official part-number used by manufacturers with a royal warrant) and has a notably large hood ornament, a silver-plated bronze statue of St. George slaying a dragon, a personal mascot of Her Majesty which appeared also on the state Bentley limousine.  The automotive ornaments seem to have been a bit of a thing for the queen, renderings of dogs sometimes observed on her Range Rovers.

Undertaker

Undertaker (pronounced uhn-der-tey-ker)

(1) A person whose profession is the preparation of the dead for burial or cremation and the management of funerals (like embalmer, now mostly a historic reference, the preferred modern terms being funeral director or mortician)

(2) A person receiving land in Ireland during the Elizabethan era, so named because they gave an undertaking to abide by several conditions regarding marriage, to be loyal to the crown, and to use English as their spoken language (obsolete, now used only for historic references).

(3) A contractor for the royal revenue in England, one of those who undertook to manage the House of Commons for the king in the Addled Parliament of 1614 (obsolete, now used only for historic references).

(4) A person who undertakes something (became rare because of the likelihood of confusion with funeral directors but "undertake", "undertaking" and "undertaken" now common).  Historically, the word was associated in Middle and early Modern English with those running businesses but as the association with embalming and burials became pervasive, it came to be replaced with the French entrepreneur.

1350–1400: A compound word under- + -take- + -er, a back-formation from the earlier undertake (after undernim (from the Middle English undernimen, from the Old English underniman (to take in, receive, comprehend, understand, blame, be indignant at, take upon oneself, steal), the construct being under- +‎ nim.  It was cognate with the Dutch ondernemen (to undertake, attempt) and the German unternehmen (to undertake, attempt).  Under is from the Middle English under-, from the Old English under-, from the Proto-Germanic under, from the primitive Indo-European n̥dhér (lower) and n̥tér (inside).

Take is from the Middle English taken (to take, lay hold of, grasp, strike), from the Old English tacan (to grasp, touch), of North Germanic origin, from the Old Norse taka (to touch, take), from the Proto-Germanic tēkaną (to touch), from the primitive Indo-European dehig- (to touch).  Gradually, it displaced the Middle English nimen (to take), from the Old English niman (to take).  It was cognate with the Icelandic and Norwegian Nynorsk taka (to take), the Norwegian Bokmål ta (to take), the Swedish ta (to take), the Danish tage (to take, seize), the Middle Dutch taken (to grasp), the Dutch taken (to take; grasp) and the Middle Low German tacken (to grasp); tackle is related.

The –er suffix was added to verbs to create a person or thing that does an action indicated by the root verb; used to form an agent noun.  It added to a noun it denoted an occupation.  The suffix is from the Middle English -er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, a borrowing from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought to have been borrowed from Latin -ārius and reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French -or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant of which was -our), from the Latin -(ā)tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.

Mercedes-Benz 600 Hearse

In English, undertaker was an agent noun from the verb undertake, the early meaning, strictly speaking, "a contractor of any sort hired to perform some task" but it was applied mostly to those engaged is some sort of commercial enterprise.  There had long been instances of the use of “funeral-undertaker” but by the 1690s, “undertaker” had come to mean almost exclusively those whose profession was to “embalm and bury”.  Most etymologists conclude this organic shift to linguistic exclusivity came via the word being used as a euphemism for the mechanics of the profession, matters of mortality something of a taboo topic.

Undertaker faded from use as “mortician” and “funeral director” came to be preferred, firstly in the US with the latter soon becoming the standard form in the rest of the English-speaking world.  It was at the July 1895 meeting of the Funeral Directors' Association of Kentucky that it was proclaimed “…an undertaker will no longer be known as an "undertaker and embalmer." In the future he will be known as the "mortician."  This soon spread and the term undertaker is now almost unknown except in historic references or in figurative use in fields such as politics and sport.  In general use, the words "undertake", "undertaken" or "undertaking" are now used to describe just about any activity and with no sense of a taint of association with corpses. 

In the narrow technical sense, even in modern use, the terms funeral director, mortician, and undertaker mean the same thing (a person who supervises or conducts the preparation of the dead for burial and directs or arranges funerals"  Nuances have however emerged, especially in the US where a funeral director tends to be someone who owns or operates a funeral home whereas the term mortician implies a technical role, a person who handles the body (the embalmer) in preparation for a funeral.  Often of course, these roles are combined, especially in smaller operations so for practical purposes, funeral director and mortician are generally interchangeable.  Although it would probably once have seemed a bizarre construction, there are also now funeral celebrants who officiate at ceremonies not (or only vaguely) connected with religious practice and are thus analogous to the civil celebrants who perform secular marriage ceremonies.  They're not directly connected with the school of thought which prefers to "celebrate a life" rather than "mourn a death" at a funeral, an approach which can be taken even in an overtly religious service.  

So it's largely a matter of how those within the profession prefer to style themselves and Funeral Director seems now the most popular choice although mortician remains widely used in the US.  Mirriam-Webster provides:

Funeral Director: A person whose job is to arrange and manage funerals.

Mortician: A person whose job is to prepare dead people to be buried and to arrange and manage funerals.

Undertaker: One whose business is to prepare the dead for burial and to arrange and manage funerals.

1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) hearse by German coach builders, Pollmann of Bremen.

Built on a (lengthened) 1967 short wheelbase (SWB) platform, it’s a genuine one-off, the only 600 hearse ever built.  The story (which may be true), repeated whenever it’s offered for sale, is it was originally a sedan purchased by a German farmer (always referred to as Herr K) whose particular experience of the Wirtschaftswunder (the German post-war economic miracle) was the massive capital gain he enjoyed when he sold his farmland for urban development.  Happy, he bought Mercedes-Benz 600 (in champagne metallic gold) for his wife and commissioned an architect to design a house for them to enjoy.  Unfortunately, he arrived home one day to find the ungrateful hausfrau had run off with the architect and, unable to bear to keep the 600 because it was a reminder of the strumpet’s infidelity, he returned the car to the dealer to off-load.  It was sold to the coach-builders Pollmann which converted it to a hearse which seems appropriate although it's not known if the former farmer was impressed by the symbolism of the transformation.  It was used for some years for the purpose for which it was designed and has since been restored by US-based expert in all things 600esque, Karl Middelhauve.

The Machete funeral hearse

Lindsay Lohan in habit, emerging from hearse in Machete (2010).  The Machete hearse was based on a 1987 Cadillac Brougham (1987-1992).

Between 1931-1979, General Motors' Cadillac division offered a line called the Cadillac Commercial Chassis, a long-wheelbase, heavy-duty platform which was mechanically complete but with a partially built body (without bodywork rear of the windscreen, doors and other panels included on request).  Produced on the D platform (exclusive to Cadillac), the "Commercial Chassis" was used by coach-builders to create high-roofed ambulances, hearses (often called funeral coaches in the US) and cleverly designed hybrids which at short notice could be converted from ambulances to hearses or used by a coroner's staff to transport a corpse; these multi-purpose devices were popular in towns with small populations.  The early Commercial Chassis were based on the Series 355 (1931-1935) and the Series 75 (1936-1992) from 1936 and although there were specific modification to the frame, the mechanical components were always shared with the 75 which, used for the big limousines, meant costs were amortized across the ranges.  After 1980, production continued on the downsized platform but there was no longer a separate D platform, the partially bodied cars structurally identical to the mainstream line.

1960 Mercedes-Benz 300d Cabriolet D (left) and 1960 Cadillac hearse (Funeral Carriage) on the Commercial Chassis (right).

Dating from the age of horse drawn carriages, the landau irons (which some coachbuilders insist should be called "carriage bars") on the rear side-panels of hearses emulate in style (though not function) those used on carriages and early automobiles (the last probably the Mercedes-Benz 300 (the “Adenauer”; W186 (1951-1957) & W189 (1957-1962)) Cabriolet D).  On those vehicles, the irons actually supported the folding mechanism for the fabric roof but on hearses they are merely decorative, there to relieve the slab-sidedness of the expanse of flat metal.  The alternative approach with hearses is to use a more conventional glass panel, usually with curtains fitted which can be drawn as desired.  In many cases, there is a desire to make the coffin (casket) as visible as possible because some, to permit the dead a final act of conspicuous consumption, are crafted with some extravagance.

1971 Ford Thunderbird with standard vinyl roof (left) and 1967 Ford Thunderbird with the vinyl removed (right).

There was however one curious use of a stylized iron for a purpose which was both functional and aesthetic.  When, in a sign of the times, the 1967-1971 Ford Thunderbird included a four-door sedan rather than a convertible as a companion to the coupés in the range, the sedans were fitted with the combination of the irons and a vinyl roof.  In this one, unique, case the irons and the vinyl actually improved rather than detracted from the appearance because, built on a surprisingly short wheelbase, the Thunderbird had to be fitted with rather short rear doors (also compelling the use of the front-opening "suicide door" configuration) and to accommodate the shape of C-pillar, each had to intrude on the other.  What the (always dark) vinyl and the sweep of the irons did was conceal the compromise and for that reason, this generation of Thunderbirds is probably the only car where vinyl roofs are rarely removed because exposing the metal results in a very strange look.  Because (1) they're ugly and (2) they trap moisture, thereby encouraging rust, removing a vinyl roof usually improves the appearance of a car but this is the one exception.