A Hundred, And Other Things
The other day my humor blog featured a little table of things for which a “hundred” of them isn’t necessarily 100 of them. It’s just a little bit of wonder I found on skimming the “Index to Units and Systems of Units” page, one of those simple reference sites that is just compelling in how much trivia there is to enjoy. The page offers examples of various units, from those that are common today (acres, meters, gallons), to those of local or historic use (the grosses tausend, the farthingdale), to those of specialized application (the seger cone, used by potters to measure the maximum temperature of kiln). It’s just a wonder of things that can be measured.
There’s a wonderful diversity of commodities for which a “hundred” is not 100 units, though. Many — skins, nails, eggs, herring — have a “hundred” that consists of 120. That seems to defy the definition of a “hundred”, but I like to think that serves as a reminder that units are creations of humans to organize the way we think about things, and it’s convenient to have a unit that is “an awful lot of, but not unimaginably lot of” whatever we’re talking about, and a “hundred” seems to serve that role pretty well. The “hundreds” which are actually 120 probably come about from wanting to have a count of things that’s both an awful lot of the thing and is also an amount that can be subdivided into equal parts very well. 120 of a thing can be divided evenly into two, three, four, five, six, eight, ten, twelve, and so on equal shares; 100 is relatively impoverished for equal subdivisions.
I do not know the story behind some of the more curious hundreds, such as the counting of 106 sheep or lambs as a hundred in Roxburghshire and Selkirkshire (counties in the southeast of Scotland), or the counting of 160 dried fish as a hundred, but it likely reflects the people working with such things finding these to be slightly more convenient numbers than a plain old 100 for the “big but not unimaginably lot of” a thing. The 225 making up a hundred of onions and garlic, for example, seems particularly exotic, but it’s less so when you notice that’s 15 times 15. One of the citations of this “hundred” describes it as “15 ropes and every rope each with 15 heads”. Suddenly this hundred is a reasonable number of things that are themselves reasonable numbers of things.
Of course if they hadn’t called it a “hundred” then I wouldn’t have had a pretty easy comic bit to build from it, but how were they to know the meaning of “hundred” in everyday speech would settle down to an unimaginative solitary value?