A Dictionary of Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words
by John Camden Hotten · English · Gutenberg #47018 · 562,898 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Dictionary of Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: A Dictionary of Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words
Author: John Camden Hotten
Release date: October 2, 2014 [eBook #47018]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47018
Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, Jennifer Linklater, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DICTIONARY OF SLANG, CANT, AND VULGAR WORDS ***
A CADGER’S MAP OF A BEGGING DISTRICT.
EXPLANATION OF THE HIEROGLYPHICS.
☓ NO GOOD; too poor, and know too much.
◠+ STOP,—if you have what they want, they will buy. They are pretty
“_fly_” (knowing).
⸧— GO IN THIS DIRECTION, it is better than the other road. Nothing
that way.
◇ _BONE_ (good). Safe for a “cold tatur,” if for nothing else.
“_Cheese your patter_” (don’t talk much) here.
▽ _COOPER’D_ (spoilt), by too many tramps calling there.
□ _GAMMY_ (unfavourable), likely to have you taken up. Mind the dog.
☉ _FLUMMUXED_ (dangerous), sure of a month in “_quod_” (prison).
⊕ _RELIGIOUS_, but tidy on the whole.
_See page 37._
A DICTIONARY OF MODERN SLANG, CANT, AND VULGAR WORDS,
USED AT THE PRESENT DAY IN THE STREETS OF LONDON; THE UNIVERSITIES
OF OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE; THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT; THE DENS OF ST.
GILES; AND THE PALACES OF ST. JAMES.
PRECEDED BY A HISTORY OF CANT AND VULGAR LANGUAGE;
WITH GLOSSARIES OF TWO SECRET LANGUAGES, SPOKEN BY THE WANDERING
TRIBES OF LONDON, THE COSTERMONGERS, AND THE PATTERERS.
By A LONDON ANTIQUARY.
“Rabble-charming words, which carry so much wild-fire wrapt up in
them.”—SOUTH.
SECOND EDITION,
REVISED, WITH TWO THOUSAND ADDITIONAL WORDS.
LONDON:
JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, PICCADILLY.
1860.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND GREENING, GRAYSTOKE-PLACE,
FETTER-LANE, E.C.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
The First Edition of this work had a rapid sale, and within a few weeks
after it was published the entire issue passed from the publisher’s
shelves into the hands of the public. A Second Edition, although
urgently called for, was not immediately attempted. The First had been
found incomplete and faulty in many respects, and the author determined
to thoroughly revise and recast before again going to press. The
present edition, therefore, will be found much more complete than the
First; indeed, I may say that it has been entirely rewritten, and that,
whereas the First contained but 3,000 words, this gives nearly 5,000,
with a mass of fresh illustrations, and extended articles on the more
important slang terms—HUMBUG, for instance. The notices of a _Lingua
Franca_ element in the language of London vagabonds is peculiar to this
edition.
My best thanks are due to several correspondents for valuable hints
and suggestions as to the probable etymologies of various colloquial
expressions.
One literary journal of high repute recommended a division of
cant from slang; but the annoyance of two indices in a small work
appeared to me to more than counterbalance the benefit of a stricter
philological classification, so I have for the present adhered to the
old arrangement; indeed, to separate cant from slang would be almost
impossible.
Respecting the HIEROGLYPHICS OF VAGABONDS, I have been unable to obtain
further information; but the following extract from a popular manual
which I have just met with is worth recording, although, perhaps,
somewhat out of place in a Preface.
“Gipseys follow their brethren by numerous marks, such as strewing
handfuls of grass in the day time at a four lane or cross roads;
the grass being strewn down the road the gang have taken; also, by
a cross being made on the ground with a stick or knife, the longest
end of the cross denotes the route taken. In the night time a cleft
stick is placed in the fence at the cross roads, with an arm pointing
down the road their comrades have taken. The marks are always placed
on the left-hand side, so that the stragglers can easily and readily
find them.”—_Snowden’s Magistrate’s Assistant_, 1852, p. 444.
_Piccadilly, March 15th, 1860._
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
If any gentleman of a studious turn of mind, who may have acquired the
habit of carrying pencils and notebooks, would for one year reside in
Monmouth Court, Seven Dials; six months in Orchard Street, Westminster;
three months in Mint Street, Borough; and consent to undergo another
three months on the extremely popular, but very much disliked treadmill
(_vulgo_ the “Everlasting Staircase”), finishing, I will propose, by
a six months’ tramp, in the character of a cadger and beggar, over
England, I have not the least doubt but that he would be able to write
an interesting work on the languages, secret and vulgar, of the lower
orders.
In the matter of SLANG, our studious friend would have to divide his
time betwixt observation and research. Conversations on the outsides
of omnibuses, on steamboat piers, or at railway termini, would demand
his most attentive hearing, so would the knots of semi-decayed cabmen,
standing about in bundles of worn-out great-coats and haybands, betwixt
watering pails, and conversing in a dialect every third word of which
is without home or respectable relations. He would also have to station
himself for hours near gatherings of ragged boys playing or fighting,
but ever and anon contributing to the note-book a pure street term. He
would have to “hang about” lobbies, mark the refined word-droppings
of magniloquent flunkies, “run after” all the popular preachers, go
to the Inns of Court, be up all night and about all day—in fact, be a
ubiquitarian, with a note-book and pencil in hand.
As for research, he would have to turn over each page of our popular
literature, wander through all the weekly serials, wade through the
newspapers, fashionable and unfashionable, and subscribe to Mudie’s,
and scour the novels. This done, and if he has been an observant man,
I will engage to say, that he has made a choice gathering, and that we
may reasonably expect an interesting little book.
I give this outline of preparatory study to show the reason the task
has never been undertaken before. People in the present chase after
respectability don’t care to turn blackguards, and exchange cards with
the Whitechapel Pecker or the Sharp’s-alley Chicken, for the sake of
a few vulgar, although curious words; and we may rest assured that it
is quite impossible to write any account of vulgar or low language,
and remain seated on damask in one’s own drawing room. But a fortunate
circumstance attended the compiler of the present work, and he has
neither been required to reside in Seven Dials, visit the treadmill, or
wander over the country in the character of a vagabond or a cadger.
In collecting old ballads, penny histories, and other printed
street narratives, as materials for a _History of Cheap or Popular
Literature_, he frequently had occasion to purchase in Seven Dials and
the Borough a few old songs or dying speeches, from the chaunters and
patterers who abound in those neighbourhoods. With some of these men
(their names would not in the least interest the reader, and would only
serve the purpose of making this Preface look like a vulgar page from
the London Directory) an arrangement was made, that they should collect
the cant and slang words used by the different wandering tribes of
London and the country. Some of these chaunters are men of respectable
education (although filling a vagabond’s calling), and can write good
hands, and express themselves fluently, if not with orthographical
correctness. To prevent deception and mistakes, the words and phrases
sent in were checked off by other chaunters and tramps. Assistance
was also sought and obtained, through an intelligent printer in Seven
Dials, from the costermongers in London, and the pedlars and hucksters
who traverse the country. In this manner the greater number of cant
words were procured, very valuable help being continually derived from
_Mayhew’s London Labour and London Poor_, a work which had gone over
much of the same ground. The slang and vulgar expressions were gleaned
from every source which appeared to offer any materials; indeed the
references attached to words in the Dictionary frequently indicate the
channels which afforded them.
Although in the Introduction I have divided cant from slang, and
treated the subjects separately, yet in the Dictionary I have only, in
a few instances, pointed out which are slang, or which are cant terms.
The task would have been a difficult one. Many words which were once
cant are slang now. The words PRIG and COVE are instances in point.
Once cant and secret terms, they are now only street vulgarisms.
The etymologies attempted are only given as contributions to the
subject, and the derivation of no vulgar term is guaranteed. The
origin of many street words will, perhaps, never be discovered, having
commenced with a knot of illiterate persons, and spread amongst a
public that cared not a fig for the history of the word, so long as it
came to their tongues to give a vulgar piquancy to a joke, or relish to
an exceedingly familiar conversation. The references and authorities
given in italics frequently show only the direction or probable source
of the etymology. The author, to avoid tedious verbiage, was obliged,
in so small a work, to be curt in his notes and suggestions.
He has to explain also that a few words will, probably, be noticed in
the Slang and Cant Dictionary that are questionable as coming under
either of those designations. These have been admitted because they
were originally either vulgar terms, or the compiler had something
novel to say concerning them. The makers of our large dictionaries have
been exceedingly crotchety in their choice of what they considered
respectable words. It is amusing to know that Richardson used the word
HUMBUG to explain the sense of other words, but omitted it in the
alphabetical arrangement as not sufficiently respectable and ancient.
The word SLANG, too, he served in the same way.
Filthy and obscene words have been carefully excluded, although
street-talk, unlicensed and unwritten, abounds in these.
“Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.”
It appears from the calculations of philologists, that there are 38,000
words in the English language, including derivations. I believe I have,
for the first time, in consecutive order, added at least 3,000 words
to the previous stock,—vulgar and often very objectionable, but still
terms in every-day use, and employed by thousands. It is not generally
known, that the polite Lord Chesterfield once desired Dr. Johnson to
compile a Slang Dictionary; indeed, it was Chesterfield, some say, who
first used the word HUMBUG. Words, like peculiar styles of dress, get
into public favour, and come and go in fashion. When great favourites
and universal they truly become household words, although generally
considered slang, when their origin or antecedents are inquired into.
A few errors of the press, I am sorry to say, may be noticed; but,
considering the novelty of the subject, and the fact that no fixed
orthography of vulgar speech exists, it will, I hope, be deemed a not
uninteresting essay on a new and very singular branch of human inquiry;
for, as Mayhew remarks, “the whole subject of cant and slang is, to the
philologist, replete with interest of the most profound character.”
THE COMPILER WILL BE MUCH OBLIGED BY THE RECEIPT, THROUGH MR. CAMDEN
HOTTEN, THE PUBLISHER, OF ANY CANT, SLANG, OR VULGAR WORDS NOT
MENTIONED IN THE DICTIONARY. THE PROBABLE ORIGIN, OR ETYMOLOGY, OF ANY
FASHIONABLE OR UNFASHIONABLE VULGARISM, WILL ALSO BE RECEIVED BY HIM
WITH THANKS.
_Piccadilly, June 30th, 1859._
CONTENTS.
THE HISTORY OF CANT, OR THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF VAGABONDS.
PAGE
Black and Coloured VAGABONDS—Vagabonds all over Europe—Vagabonds
Universal 1–5
Etymology of CANT—Cant used in old times—Difference between Cant
and Slang 5–7
THE GIPSEYS—Gipseys taught English Vagabonds—The Gipsey-Vagabond
alliance—The Origin of Cant—Vulgar words from the Gipsey—Gipsey
element in the English language—The poet Moore on the origin of
Cant—Borrow on the Gipsey language—The inventor of Canting not
hanged 7–15
OLD CANT words still used—Old Cant words with modern meanings—The
words “_Rum_” and “_Queer_” explained—Old Cant words entirely
obsolete 16–19
THE OLDEST “ROGUE’S DICTIONARY” 20–26
“Jaw-breakers,” or hard words, used as Cant—Were Highwaymen educated
men?—Vagabonds used Foreign words as Cant—The Lingua Franca, or
Bastard Italian—Cant derived from Jews and Showmen—Classic words
used as English Cant—Old English words used as Cant—Old English
words not fashionable now—Our old Authors very vulgar persons—Was
Shakespere a pugilist?—Old Dramatists used Cant words—Curious
systems of Cant 26–35
ACCOUNT OF THE HIEROGLYPHICS USED BY VAGABONDS.
MENDICANT FREEMASONRY—Hieroglyphics of Vagabonds—Maps used by
Beggars—Account of a Cadger’s Map—Explanation of the
Hieroglyphics—Did the Gipseys invent them?—The Murderer’s Signal on
the Gallows 36–43
THE HISTORY OF SLANG, OR THE VULGAR LANGUAGE OF FAST LIFE.
Slang at Babylon and Nineveh—Old English Slang—Slang in the time of
Cromwell; and in the Court of Charles II.—Swift and Arbuthnot fond
of Slang—The origin of “_Cabbage_”—“The Real Simon Pure”—Tom Brown
and Ned Ward—Did Dr. Johnson compile a Slang Dictionary?—John Bee’s
absurd etymology of _Slang_—The true origin of the term—Derived from
the Gipseys—Burns and his fat friend, Grose—Slang used by all
classes, High and Low—Slang in Parliament, and amongst our
friends—New words not so reprehensible as old words burdened with
strange meanings—The poor Foreigner’s perplexity—Long and windy
Slang words—Vulgar corruptions 44–55
FASHIONABLE SLANG 58
PARLIAMENTARY SLANG 60
MILITARY AND DANDY SLANG 62
UNIVERSITY SLANG 64
RELIGIOUS SLANG 66
LEGAL SLANG, or Slang amongst the Lawyers 70
LITERARY SLANG, _Punch_ on “Slang and Sanscrit” 71
THEATRICAL SLANG, or Slang both before and behind the curtain 75
CIVIC SLANG 77
SLANG TERMS FOR MONEY—Her Majesty’s coin is insulted by one hundred
and thirty distinct Slang terms—Old Slang terms for money—The
classical origin of Slang money terms—The terms used by the Ancient
Romans vulgarisms in the Nineteenth Century 78–82
SHOPKEEPERS’ SLANG 82
WORKMEN’S SLANG, or Slang in the workshop—Many Slang terms for
money derived from operatives 83
SLANG APOLOGIES FOR OATHS, or sham exclamations for passion and
temper—Slang swearing 85
SLANG TERMS FOR DRUNKENNESS, and the graduated scale of fuddlement
and intoxication 86
DICTIONARY OF MODERN SLANG, CANT, AND VULGAR WORDS; _many with their
etymologies traced, together with illustrations, and references to
authorities_ 89–249
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE BACK SLANG, the secret language of
Costermongers—The principle of the Back Slang—Boys and girls soon
acquire it—The Back Slang unknown to the Police—Costermongers’ terms
for money—Arithmetic amongst the Costermongers 251–255
GLOSSARY OF BACK SLANG 257–262
SOME ACCOUNT OF THE RHYMING SLANG, the secret language of Chaunters
and Patterers—The origin of the Rhyming Slang—Spoken principally by
Vagabond Poets, Patterers, and Cheap Jacks—Patterers “well up” in
Street Slang—Curious Slang Letter from a Chaunter 263–268
GLOSSARY OF THE RHYMING SLANG 269–273
THE BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SLANG, CANT, AND VULGAR LANGUAGE, or a list of
the books which have been consulted in the compilation of this work,
comprising nearly every known treatise upon the subject 275–290
LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS 291
Opinions of the Press upon the First Edition of this
work—List of New Publications, &c. 293–300
THE HISTORY OF CANT,
OR, THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF VAGABONDS.
CANT and SLANG are universal and world-wide.
Nearly every nation on the face of the globe, polite and barbarous,
may be divided into two portions, the stationary and the wandering,
the civilised and the uncivilised, the respectable and the
scoundrel,—those who have fixed abodes and avail themselves of the
refinements of civilisation, and those who go from place to place
picking up a precarious livelihood by petty sales, begging, or theft.
This peculiarity is to be observed amongst the heathen tribes of the
southern hemisphere, as well as the oldest and most refined countries
of Europe. As Mayhew very pertinently remarks, “it would appear, that
not only are all races divisible into wanderers and settlers, but
that each civilised or settled tribe has generally some wandering
horde intermingled with, and in a measure preying upon it.” In South
Africa, the naked and miserable Hottentots are pestered by the still
more abject _Sonquas_; and it may be some satisfaction for us to know
that our old enemies at the Cape, the Kafirs, are troubled with a
tribe of rascals called _Fingoes_,—the former term, we are informed
by travellers, signifying beggars, and the latter wanderers and
outcasts. In South America, and among the islands of the Pacific,
matters are pretty much the same. Sleek and fat rascals, with not
much inclination towards honesty, fatten, or rather fasten, like body
insects, upon other rascals, who would be equally sleek and fat but for
their vagabond dependents. Luckily for respectable persons, however,
vagabonds, both at home and abroad, show certain outward peculiarities
which distinguish them from the great mass of lawful people off whom
they feed and fatten. Personal observation, and a little research into
books, enable me to mark these external traits. The wandering races
are remarkable for the development of the bones of the face, as the
jaws, cheek-bones, &c., high crowned, stubborn-shaped heads, quick
restless eyes,[1] and hands nervously itching to be doing;[2] for their
love of gambling,—staking their very existence upon a single cast; for
sensuality of all kinds; _and for their use of a CANT language with
which to conceal their designs and plunderings_.
The secret jargon, or rude speech, of the vagabonds who hang upon the
Hottentots is termed _cuze-cat_. In Finland, the fellows who steal
seal skins, pick the pockets of bear-skin overcoats, and talk Cant,
are termed Lappes. In France, the secret language of highwaymen,
housebreakers, and pickpockets is named _Argot_. The brigands and more
romantic rascals of Spain, term their private tongue _Germania_, or
Robbers’ Language. _Rothwalsch_, or Red Italian, is synonymous with
Cant and thieves’ talk in Germany. The vulgar dialect of Malta, and the
Scala towns of the Levant—imported into this country and incorporated
with English cant—is known as the _Lingua Franca_, or bastard Italian.
And the crowds of lazy beggars that infest the streets of Naples
and Rome, and the brigands that Albert Smith used to describe near
Pompeii—stopping a railway train, and deliberately rifling the pockets
and baggage of the passengers—their secret language is termed _Gergo_.
In England, as we all know, it is called _Cant_—often improperly
_Slang_.
Most nations, then, may boast, or rather lament, a vulgar tongue,
formed principally from the national language, the hereditary property
of thieves, tramps, and beggars,—the pests of civilised communities.
The formation of these secret tongues vary, of course, with the
circumstances surrounding the speakers. A writer in _Notes and
Queries_,[3] has well remarked, that “the investigation of the origin
and principles of Cant and Slang language opens a curious field of
enquiry, replete with considerable interest to the philologist and the
philosopher. It affords a remarkable instance of lingual contrivance,
which, without the introduction of much arbitrary matter, has developed
a system of communicating ideas, having all the advantages of a foreign
language.”
An inquiry into the etymology of foreign vulgar secret tongues, and
their analogy with that spoken in England, would be curious and
interesting in the extreme, but neither present space nor personal
acquirements permit of the task, and therefore the writer confines
himself to a short account of the origin of English Cant.
The terms CANT and CANTING were doubtless derived from _chaunt_ or
_chaunting_,—the “whining tone, or modulation of voice adopted by
beggars, with intent to coax, wheedle, or cajole by pretensions of
wretchedness.”[4] For the origin of the other application of the word
CANT, pulpit hypocrisy, we are indebted to a pleasant page in the
Spectator (No. 147):—“_Cant_ is by some people derived from one Andrew
Cant, who, they say, was a Presbyterian minister in some illiterate
part of Scotland, who by exercise and use had obtained the faculty,
alias gift, of talking in the pulpit in such a dialect that ’tis
said he was understood by none but his own congregation,—and not by
all of them. Since Master _Cant’s_ time it has been understood in a
larger sense, and signifies all exclamations, whinings, unusual tones,
and, in fine, all praying and preaching like the unlearned of the
Presbyterians.” This anecdote is curious, if it is not correct. It was
the custom in Addison’s time to have a fling at the blue Presbyterians,
and the mention made by _Whitelocke_ of Andrew Cant, a fanatical Scotch
preacher, and the squib upon the same worthy, in _Scotch Presbyterian
Eloquence Displayed_, may probably have started the whimsical
etymology. As far as we are concerned, however, in the present inquiry,
CANT was derived from _chaunt_, a beggar’s whine; CHAUNTING being the
recognised term amongst beggars to this day for begging orations and
street whinings; and CHAUNTER, a street talker and tramp, the very
term still used by strollers and patterers. The use of the word CANT,
amongst beggars, must certainly have commenced at a very early date,
for we find “TO CANTE, to speake,” in Harman’s list of Rogues’ Words
in the year 1566; and Harrison about the same time,[5] in speaking
of beggars and Gipseys, says, “they have devised a language among
themselves which they name CANTING, but others Pedlars’ Frenche.”
Now the word CANT in its old sense, and SLANG[6] in its modern
application, although used by good writers and persons of education
as synonymes, are in reality quite distinct and separate terms. CANT,
apart from religious hypocrisy, refers to the old secret language, by
allegory or distinct terms, of Gipseys, thieves, tramps, and beggars.
SLANG represents that evanescent, vulgar language, ever changing with
fashion and taste, which has principally come into vogue during the
last seventy or eighty years, spoken by persons in every grade of life,
rich and poor, honest and dishonest.[7] CANT is old; SLANG is always
modern and changing. To illustrate the difference: a thief in _Cant_
language would term a horse a PRANCER or a PRAD,—while in _slang_, a
man of fashion would speak of it as a BIT OF BLOOD, or a SPANKER, or
a NEAT TIT. A handkerchief, too, would be a BILLY, a FOGLE, or a KENT
RAG, in the secret language of low characters,—whilst amongst vulgar
persons, or those who aped their speech, it would be called a RAG,
a WIPE, or a CLOUT. CANT was formed for purposes of secrecy. SLANG
is indulged in from a desire to appear familiar with life, gaiety,
town-humour, and with the transient nick names and street jokes of the
day. Both Cant and Slang, I am aware, are often huddled together as
synonymes, but they are distinct terms, and as such should be used.
To the Gipseys, beggars and thieves are undoubtedly indebted for
their Cant language. The Gipseys landed in this country early in the
reign of Henry the Eighth. They were at first treated as conjurors
and magicians,—indeed they were hailed by the populace with as much
applause as a company of English theatricals usually receive on
arriving in a distant colony. They came here with all their old Eastern
arts of palmistry, fortune-telling, doubling money by incantation and
burial,—shreds of pagan idolatry; and they brought with them, also,
the dishonesty of the lower caste of Asiatics, and the vagabondism
they had acquired since leaving their ancient dwelling places in the
East, many centuries before. They possessed, also, a _language_ quite
distinct from anything that had been heard in England, and they claimed
the title of Egyptians, and as such, when their thievish wandering
propensities became a public nuisance, were cautioned and proscribed in
a royal proclamation by Henry VIII.[8] The Gipseys were not long in the
country before they found native imitators. Vagabondism is peculiarly
catching. The idle, the vagrant, and the criminal outcasts of society,
caught an idea from the so called Egyptians—soon corrupted to Gipseys.
They learned from them how to tramp, sleep under hedges and trees, to
tell fortunes, and find stolen property for a consideration—frequently,
as the saying runs, before it was lost. They also learned the value
and application of a _secret tongue_, indeed all the accompaniments of
maunding and imposture, except thieving and begging, which were well
known in this country long before the Gipseys paid it a visit,—perhaps
the only negative good that can be said in their favour.
_Harman_, in the year 1566, wrote a singular, not to say droll
book, entitled, _A Caveat for commen Cvrsetors, vulgarley called
Vagabones, newly augmented and inlarged_, wherein the history and
various descriptions of rogues and vagabonds are given, together with
their canting tongue. This book, the earliest of the kind, gives the
singular fact that within a dozen years after the landing of the
Gipseys, companies of English vagrants were formed, places of meeting
appointed, districts for plunder and begging operations marked out,
and rules agreed to for their common management. In some cases Gipseys
joined the English gangs, in others English vagrants joined the
Gipseys. The fellowship was found convenient and profitable, as both
parties were aliens to the laws and customs of the country, living in
a great measure in the open air, apart from the lawful public, and
often meeting each other on the same bye-path, or in the same retired
valley;—but seldom intermarrying, and entirely adopting each other’s
habits. The common people, too, soon began to consider them as of one
family,—all rogues, and from Egypt. The secret language spoken by the
Gipseys, principally Hindoo and extremely barbarous to English ears,
was found incomprehensible and very difficult to learn. The Gipseys,
also, found the same difficulty with the English language. A rude,
rough, and most singular compromise was made, and a mixture of Gipsey,
Old English, newly-coined words, and cribbings from any foreign, and
therefore secret language, mixed and jumbled together, formed what has
ever since been known as the CANTING LANGUAGE, or PEDLER’S FRENCH; or,
during the past century, ST. GILES’ GREEK.
Such was the origin of CANT; and in illustration of its blending
with the Gipsey or Cingari tongue, dusky and Oriental from the sunny
plains of Central Asia, I am enabled to give the accompanying list of
Gipsey, and often Hindoo words, with, in many instances, their English
adoptions.
_Gipsey._ _English._
BAMBOOZLE, to perplex or BAMBOOZLE, to delude, cheat,
mislead by hiding. _Mod Gip._ or make a fool of any one.
BOSH, rubbish, nonsense, BOSH, stupidity, foolishness.
offal. _Gipsey and Persian._
CHEESE, thing or article, CHEESE, or CHEESY, a
“that’s the CHEESE,” or first-rate or very good
thing. _Gipsey and Hindoo._ article.
CHIVE, the tongue. _Gipsey._ CHIVE, or CHIVEY, a shout,
or loud-tongued.
DADE, or DADI, a father. DADDY, nursery term for
_Gipsey._ father.[9]
DISTARABIN, a prison. _Gipsey._ STURABIN, a prison.
GAD, or GADSI, a wife. _Gipsey._ GAD, a female scold; a woman
who tramps over the country
with a beggar or hawker.
GIBBERISH, the language of GIBBERISH, rapid and
Gipseys, synonymous with unmeaning speech.
SLANG. _Gipsey._
ISCHUR, SCHUR, or CHUR, a CUR, a mean or dishonest man.
thief. _Gipsey and Hindoo._
LAB, a word. _Gipsey._ LOBS, words.
LOWE, or LOWR, money. LOWRE, money. _Ancient Cant._
_Gipsey and Wallachian._
MAMI, a grandmother. _Gipsey._ MAMMY, or MAMMA, a mother,
formerly sometimes used for
grandmother.
MANG, or MAUNG, to beg. MAUND, to beg.
_Gipsey and Hindoo._
MORT, a free woman,—one for MORT, or MOTT, a prostitute.
common use amongst the male
Gipseys, so appointed by
Gipsey custom. _Gipsey._
MU, the mouth. _Gipsey and MOO, or MUN, the mouth.
Hindoo._
MULL, to spoil or destroy. MULL, to spoil, or bungle.
_Gipsey._
PAL, a brother. _Gipsey._ PAL, a partner, or relation.
PANÉ, water. _Gipsey._ PARNEY, rain.
_Hindoo_, PAWNEE.
RIG, a performance. _Gipsey._ RIG, a frolic, or “spree.”
ROMANY, speech or language. ROMANY, the Gipsey language.
_Spanish Gipsey._
ROME, or ROMM, a man. RUM, a good man, or thing.
_Gipsey and Coptick._ In the Robbers’ language of
Spain (partly Gipsey) RUM
signifies a harlot.
ROMEE, a woman. _Gipsey._ RUMY, a good woman or girl.
SLANG, the language spoken SLANG, low, vulgar,
by Gipseys. _Gipsey._ unauthorised language.
TAWNO, little. _Gipsey._ TANNY, TEENY, little.
TSCHIB, or JIBB, the tongue. JIBB, the tongue;
_Gipsey and Hindoo._ JABBER,[10] quick-tongued,
or fast talk.
Here then we have the remarkable fact of several words of pure Gipsey
and Asiatic origin going the round of Europe, passing into this
country before the Reformation, and coming down to us through numerous
generations purely in the mouths of the people. They have seldom been
written or used in books, and simply as vulgarisms have they reached
our time. Only a few are now cant, and some are household words. The
word JOCKEY, as applied to a dealer or rider of horses, came from the
Gipsey, and means in that language a whip. Our standard dictionaries
give, of course, none but conjectural etymologies. Another word,
BAMBOOZLE, has been a sore difficulty with lexicographers. It is not in
the old dictionaries, although extensively used in familiar or popular
language for the last two centuries; in fact, the very word that Swift,
Butler, L’Estrange, and Arbuthnot would pick out at once as a telling
and most serviceable term. It is, as we have seen, from the Gipsey;
and here I must state that it was Boucher who first drew attention to
the fact, although in his remarks on the dusky tongue, he has made a
ridiculous mistake by concluding it to be identical with its offspring,
CANT. Other parallel instances, with but slight variations from the old
Gipsey meanings, could be mentioned, but sufficient examples have been
adduced to show that Marsden, the great Oriental scholar in the last
century, when he declared before the Society of Antiquaries that the
Cant of English thieves and beggars had nothing to do with the language
spoken by the despised Gipseys, was in error. Had the Gipsey tongue
been analysed and committed to writing three centuries ago, there is
every probability that many scores of words now in common use could be
at once traced to its source. Instances continually occur now-a-days
of street vulgarisms ascending to the drawing-rooms of respectable
society. Why, then, may not the Gipsey-vagabond alliance three
centuries ago have contributed its quota of common words to popular
speech?
I feel confident there is a Gipsey element in the English language
hitherto unrecognised; slender it may be, but not, therefore,
unimportant.
“Indeed,” says Moore the poet, in a humorous little book, _Tom Crib’s
Memorial to Congress_, 1819, “the Gipsey language, with the exception
of such terms as relate to their own peculiar customs, differs
but little from the regular Flash or Cant language.” But this was
magnifying the importance of the alliance. Moore knew nothing of the
Gipsey tongue other than the few Cant words put into the mouths of the
beggars, in _Beaumont and Fletcher’s Comedy of the Beggar’s Bush_,
and _Ben Jonson’s Masque of the Gipseys Metamorphosed_,—hence his
confounding Cant with Gipsey speech, and appealing to the Glossary of
Cant for so called “Gipsey” words at the end of the _Life of Bamfylde
Moore Carew_, to bear him out in his assertion. Still his remark bears
much truth, and proof would have been found long ago if any scholar had
taken the trouble to examine the “barbarous jargon of Cant,” and to
have compared it with Gipsey speech. As George Borrow, in his _Account
of the Gipseys in Spain_, eloquently concludes his second volume,
speaking of the connection of the Gipseys with Europeans:—“Yet from
this temporary association were produced two results: European fraud
became sharpened by coming into contact with Asiatic craft; whilst
European tongues, by imperceptible degrees, became recruited with
various words (some of them wonderfully expressive), many of which have
long been stumbling-blocks to the philologist, who, whilst stigmatising
them as words of mere vulgar invention, or of unknown origin, has been
far from dreaming that a little more research or reflection would have
proved their affinity to the Sclavonic, Persian, or Romaic, or perhaps
to the mysterious object of his veneration, the Sanscrit, the sacred
tongue of the palm-covered regions of Ind; words originally introduced
into Europe by objects too miserable to occupy for a moment his
lettered attention,—the despised denizens of the tents of Roma.”
But the Gipseys, their speech, their character—bad enough as all the
world testifies—their history and their religious belief, have been
totally disregarded, and their poor persons buffeted and jostled about
until it is a wonder that any trace of origin or national speech exists
in them. On the continent they received better attention at the hands
of learned men. Their language was taken down, their history traced,
and their extraordinary customs and practice of living in the open
air, and eating raw or putrid meat, explained. They ate reptiles and
told fortunes, because they had learnt it through their forefathers
centuries back in Hindostan, and they devoured carrion because the
Hindoo proverb—“_that which God kills is better than that killed by
man_,”[11]—was still in their remembrance. Grellman, a learned German,
was their principal historian, and to him we are almost entirely
indebted for the little we know of their language.[12]
GIPSEY then started, and partially merged into CANT, and the old story
told by Harrison and others, that the first inventor of canting was
hanged for his pains, would seem to be a fable, for jargon as it is,
it was, doubtless, of gradual formation, like all other languages or
systems of speech. The Gipseys at the present day all know the _old
cant_ words, as well as their own tongue,—or rather what remains of it.
As Borrow states, “the dialect of the English Gipseys is mixed with
English words.”[13] Those of the tribe who frequent fairs, and mix
with English tramps, readily learn the new words, as they are adopted
by what Harman calls, “the fraternity of vagabonds.” Indeed, the old
CANT is a common language to vagrants of all descriptions and origin
scattered over the British Isles.
Ancient English CANT has considerably altered since the first
dictionary was compiled by Harman, in 1566. A great many words are
unknown in the present tramps’ and thieves’ vernacular. Some of them,
however, bear still their old definitions, while others have adopted
fresh meanings,—to escape detection, I suppose. “ABRAHAM MAN” is yet
seen in our modern SHAM ABRAHAM, or PLAY THE OLD SOLDIER, _i.e._,
to feign sickness or distress. “AUTUM” is still a church or chapel
amongst Gipseys; and “BECK,” a constable, is our modern cant and slang
BEEK, a policeman or magistrate. “BENE,” or BONE, stands for _good_
in Seven Dials, and the back streets of Westminster; and “BOWSE” is
our modern BOOZE, to drink or fuddle. A “BOWSING KEN” was the old cant
term for a public house, and BOOZING KEN, in modern cant, has precisely
the same meaning. “BUFE” was then the term for a dog, now it is
BUFFER,—frequently applied to men. “CASSAN” is both old and modern cant
for cheese; the same may be said of “CHATTES” or CHATTS, the gallows.
“COFE,” or COVE, is still the vulgar synonyme for a man. “DRAWERS”
was hose, or “hosen,”—now applied to the lining for trousers. “DUDES”
was cant for clothes, we now say DUDDS. “FLAG” is still a fourpenny
piece; and “FYLCHE” means to rob. “KEN” is a house, and “LICK” means
to thrash; “PRANCER” is yet known amongst rogues as a horse; and “to
PRIG,” amongst high and low, is to steal. Three centuries ago, if
one beggar said anything disagreeable to another, the person annoyed
would say “STOW YOU,” or hold your peace; low people now say STOW IT,
equivalent to “be quiet.” “TRINE” is still to hang; “WYN” yet stands
for a penny. And many other words, as will be seen in the glossary,
still retain their ancient meaning.
As specimens of those words which have altered their original cant
signification, I may instance “CHETE,” now written CHEAT. CHETE was
in ancient cant what _chop_ is in the Canton-Chinese,—an almost
inseparable adjunct. Everything was termed a CHETE, and qualified by
a substantive-adjective, which showed what kind of a CHETE was meant;
for instance, “CRASHING CHETES” were teeth; a “MOFFLING CHETE,” a
napkin; a “GRUNTING CHETE,” a pig, &c. &c. CHEAT now-a-days means
to defraud or swindle, and lexicographers have tortured etymology
for an original—but without success. _Escheats_ and _escheatours_
have been named, but with great doubts; indeed, Stevens, the learned
commentator on Shakespere, acknowledged that he “did not recollect to
have met with the word _cheat_ in our ancient writers.”[14] CHEAT, to
defraud, then, is no other than an old Cant term, somewhat altered
in its meaning,[15] and as such it should be described in the next
Etymological Dictionary. Another instance of a change in the meaning of
the old Cant, but the retention of the word is seen in “CLY,” formerly
to take or steal, now a pocket;—remembering a certain class of low
characters, a curious connection between the two meanings will be
discovered. “MAKE” was a halfpenny, we now say MAG,—MAKE being modern
Cant for appropriating,—“convey the wise it call.” “MILLING” stood for
stealing, it is now a pugilistic term for fighting or beating. “NAB”
was a head,—low people now say NOB, the former meaning, in modern
Cant, to steal or seize. “PEK” was meat,—we still say PECKISH, when
hungry. “PRYGGES, _dronken Tinkers or beastly people_,” as old Harman
wrote, would scarcely be understood now; a PRIG, in the 19th century,
is a pickpocket or thief. “QUIER,” or QUEER, like _cheat_, was a very
common prefix, and meant bad or wicked,—it now means odd, curious, or
strange; but to the ancient cant we are indebted for the word, which
etymologists should remember.[16] “ROME,” or RUM, formerly meant good,
or of the first quality, and was extensively used like _cheat_ and
_queer_,—indeed as an adjective it was the opposite of the latter. RUM
now means curious, and is synonymous with queer, thus,—a “RUMMY old
fellow,” or a “QUEER old man.” Here again we see the origin of an every
day word, scouted by lexicographers and snubbed by respectable persons,
but still a word of frequent and popular use. “YANNAM” meant bread,
PANNUM is the word now. Other instances could be pointed out, but they
will be observed in the dictionary.
Several words are entirely obsolete. “ALYBBEG” no longer means a bed,
nor “ASKEW” a cup. “BOOGET,”[17] now-a-days, would not be understood
for a basket; neither would “GAN” pass current for mouth. “FULLAMS”
was the old cant term for false or loaded dice, and although used
by Shakespere in this sense, is now unknown and obsolete. Indeed,
as Tom Moore somewhere remarks, the present Greeks of St. Giles,
themselves, would be thoroughly puzzled by many of the ancient canting
songs,—taking for example, the first verse of an old favourite:
Bing out, bien Morts, and toure and toure,
Bing out, bien Morts, and toure;
For all your duds are bing’d awast;
The bien cove hath the loure.[18]
But I think I cannot do better than present to the reader at once an
entire copy of the first Canting Dictionary ever compiled. As before
mentioned, it was the work of one Thos. Harman, a gentleman who lived
in the days of Queen Elizabeth. Some writers have remarked that
Decker[19] was the first to compile a Dictionary of the vagabonds’
tongue; whilst Borrow,[20] and Moore, the poet, stated that Richard
Head performed that service in his _Life of an English Rogue_,
published in the year 1680. All these statements are equally incorrect,
for the first attempt was made more than a century before the latter
work was issued. The quaint spelling and old-fashioned phraseology are
preserved, and the reader will quickly detect many vulgar street words,
old acquaintances, dressed in antique garb.[21]
_ABRAHAM-MEN_, be those that fayn themselves to have beene mad, and
have bene kept either in Bethelem, or in some other pryson a good
time.
_ALYBBEG_, a bedde.
_ASKEW_, a cuppe.
_AUTEM_, a churche.
_AUTEM MORTES_, married wemen as chaste as a cowe.
_BAUDYE BASKETS_, bee women who goe with baskets and capcases on
their armes, wherein they have laces, pinnes, nedles, whyte inkel,
and round sylke gyrdels of all colours.
_BECK_ [Beek], a constable.
_BELLY-CHETE_, apron.
_BENE_, good. _Benar_, better.
_BENSHIP_, very good.
_BLETING CHETE_, a calfe or sheepe.
_BOOGET_, a travelling tinker’s baskete.
_BORDE_, a shilling.
_BOUNG_, a purse [_Friesic_, pong].
_BOWSE_, drink.
_BOWSING-KEN_, a alehouse.
_BUFE_ [buffer, a man], a dogge.
_BYNGE A WASTE_, go you hence.
_CACKLING-CHETE_, a coke [cock], or capon.
_CASSAN_ [cassam], cheese.
_CASTERS_, a cloake.
_CATETH_, “the vpright Cofe _cateth_ to the Roge” [probably a
shortening or misprint of _Canteth_].
_CHATTES_, the gallowes.
_CHETE_ [see what has been previously said about this word].
_CLY_ [a pocket], to take, receive, or have.
_COFE_ [cove], a person.
_COMMISSION_ [mish], a shirt.
_COUNTERFET CRANKE_, these that do counterfet the Cranke be yong
knaves and yonge harlots, that deeply dissemble the falling sicknes.
_CRANKE_ [cranky, foolish], falling evil [or wasting sickness].
_CRASHING-CHETES_, teeth.
_CUFFEN_, a manne [a _cuif_ in Northumberland and Scotland signifies
a lout or awkward fellow].
_DARKEMANS_, the night.
_DELL_, a yonge wench.
_DEWSE-A-VYLE_, the countrey.
_DOCK_, to deflower.
_DOXES_, harlots.
_DRAWERS_, hosen.
_DUDES_ [or dudds], clothes.
_FAMBLES_, handes.
_FAMBLING-CHETE_, a ring on one’s hand.
_FLAGG_, a groat.
_FRATER_, a beggar wyth a false paper.
_FRESHE-WATER-MARINERS_, these kind of caterpillers counterfet great
losses on the sea:—their shippes were drowned in the playne of
Salisbury.
_FYLCHE_, to robbe: _Fylch-man_ [a robber].
_GAGE_, a quart pot.
_GAN_, a mouth.
_GENTRY COFE_, a noble or gentle man.
_GENTRY-COFES-KEN_, a noble or gentle man’s house.
_GENTRY MORT_, a noble or gentle woman.
_GERRY_, excrement.
_GLASYERS_, eyes.
_GLYMMAR_, fyer.
_GRANNAM_, corne.
_GRUNTING-CHETE_, a pygge.
_GYB_, a writing.
_GYGER_ [jigger], a dore.
_HEARING-CHETES_, eares.
_JARKE_, a seale.
_JARKEMAN_, one who make writings and set seales for [counterfeit]
licences and pasports.
_KEN_, a house.
_KYNCHEN CO_ [or _cove_], a young boye trained up like a “_Kynching
Morte_.” [From the German diminutive _Kindschen_.]
_KYNCHING MORTE_, is a little gyrle, carried at their mothers’ backe
in a slate, or sheete, who brings them up sauagely.
_LAG_, water.
_LAG OF DUDES_, a bucke [or basket] of clothes.
_LAGE_, to washe.
_LAP_, butter, mylke, or whey.
_LIGHTMANS_, the day.
_LOWING-CHETE_, a cowe.
_LOWRE_, money.
_LUBBARES_,—“sturdy _Lubbares_,” country bumpkins, or men of a low
degree.
_LYB-BEG_, a bed.
_LYCKE_ [lick], to beate.
_LYP_, to lie down.
_LYPKEN_, a house to lye in.
_MAKE_ [mag], a halfpenny.
_MARGERI PRATER_, a hen.
_MILLING_, to steale [by sending a child in at the window].
_MOFLING-CHETE_, a napkin.
_MORTES_ [motts], harlots.
_MYLL_, to robbe.
_MYNT_, gold.
_NAB_ [nob], a heade.
_NABCHET_, a hat or cap.
_NASE_, dronken.
_NOSEGENT_, a nunne.
_PALLYARD_, a borne beggar [who counterfeits sickness, or incurable
sores. They are mostly Welshmen, Harman says].
_PARAM_, mylke.
_PATRICO_, a priest.
_PATRICOS KINCHEN_, a pygge [a satirical hit at the church, _Patrico_
meaning a parson or priest, and _Kinchen_ his little boy or girl].
_PEK_ [peckish], meat.
_POPPELARS_, porrage.
_PRAT_, a buttocke.
_PRATLING-CHETE_, a toung.
_PRAUNCER_, a horse.
_PRIGGER OF PRAUNCERS_, be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth
in their language to steale, and a Prauncer is a horse, so being
put together, the matter was playn. [Thus writes old Thomas Harman,
who concludes his description of this order of “pryggers,” by very
quietly saying, “I had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture,
that I had amongst others, whyle this book was first a printing.”]
_PRYGGES_, dronken Tinkers, or beastly people.
_QUACKING-CHETE_, a drake or duck.
_QUAROMES_, a body.
_QUIER_ [queer], badde [see what has been previously said about this
word].
_QUYER CRAMP-RINGES_, boltes or fetters.
_QUIER CUFFIN_, the iustice of peace.
_QUYER-KYN_, a pryson house.
_RED SHANKE_, a drake or ducke.
_ROGER_, a goose.
_ROME_, goode [now curious, noted, or remarkable in any way. _Rum_ is
the modern orthography].
_ROME BOUSE_ [rum booze], wyne.
_ROME MORT_, the Queene [Elizabeth].
_ROME VYLE_ [or Rum-ville], London.
_RUFF PECK_, baken [short bread, common in old times at farm houses].
_RUFFMANS_, the woods or bushes.
_SALOMON_, a alter or masse.
_SKYPPER_, a barne.
_SLATE_, a sheete or shetes.
_SMELLING CHETE_, a nose.
_SMELLING CHETE_, a garden or orchard.
_SNOWT FAYRE_ [said of a woman who has a pretty face or is comely].
_STALL_ [to initiate a beggar or rogue into the rights and privileges
of the canting order. Harman relates, that when an upright-man, or
initiated, first-class rogue, “mete any beggar, whether he be sturdy
or impotent, he will demand of him whether ever he was ‘_stalled to
the roge_’ or no. If he say he was, he will know of whom, and his
name yt stalled him. And if he be not learnedly able to show him the
whole circumstance thereof, he will spoyle him of his money, either
of his best garment, if it be worth any money, and haue him to the
bowsing ken: which is, to some typpling house next adjoyninge, and
layth there to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or
two shillings: this man obeyeth for feare of beatinge. Then dooth
this upright man call for a gage of bowse, which is a quarte potte of
drink, and powres the same vpon his peld pate, adding these words,—I,
_G. P._ do stalle the, _W. T._ to the Roge, and that from henceforth
it shall be lawfull for thee to cant, that is to aske or begge for
thi liuiug in al places.” Something like this treatment is the
popular idea of Freemasonry, and what schoolboys term “freeing.”]
_STAMPES_, legges.
_STAMPERS_, shoes.
_STAULING KEN_, a house that will receyue stollen wares.
_STAWLINGE-KENS_, tippling houses.
_STOW YOU_ [stow it], hold your peace.
_STRIKE_, to steale.
_STROMMELL_, strawe.
_SWADDER_, or _Pedler_ [a man who hawks goods].
_THE HIGH PAD_, the highway.
_THE RUFFIAN CLY THEE_, the devil take thee.
_TOGEMANS_ [togg], a cloake.
_TOGMAN_, a coate.
_TO BOWSE_, to drinke.
_TO CANTE_, to speake.
_TO CLY THE GERKE_, to be whipped.
_TO COUCH A HOGSHEAD_, to lie down and slepe.
_TO CUTTE_, to say [_cut it_ is modern slang for “be quiet”].
_TO CUT BENE WHYDDES_, to speake or give good words.
_TO CUTTE QUYER WHYDDES_, to giue euil words or euil language.
_TO CUT BENLE_, to speak gentle.
_TO DUP YE GYGER_ [jigger], to open the dore.
_TO FYLCHE_, to robbe.
_TO HEUE A BOUGH_, to robbe or rifle a boweth [booth].
_TO MAUNDE_, to aske or require.
_TO MILL A KEN_, to robbe a house.
_TO NYGLE_ [coition].
_TO NYP A BOUNG_ [nip, to steal], to cut a purse.
_TO SKOWER THE CRAMPRINGES_, to weare boltes or fetters.
_TO STALL_, to make or ordain.
_TO THE RUFFIAN_, to the Devil.
_TO TOWRE_, to see.
_TRYNING_ [trine], hanging.
_TYB OF THE BUTERY_, a goose.
_WALKING MORTE_, womene [who pass for widows].
_WAPPING_ [coition].
_WHYDDES_, wordes.
_WYN_, a penny.
_YANNAM_, bread.
Turning our attention more to the Cant of modern times, in connection
with the old, we find that words have been drawn into the thieves’
vocabulary from every conceivable source. Hard or infrequent words,
vulgarly termed _crack-jaw_, or _jaw-breakers_, were very often used
and considered as cant terms. And here it should be mentioned that
at the present day the most inconsistent and far-fetched terms are
often used for secret purposes, when they are known to be caviare
to the million. It is really laughable to know that such words as
_incongruous_, _insipid_, _interloper_, _intriguing_, _indecorum_,
_forestal_, _equip_, _hush_, _grapple_, &c. &c., were current Cant
words a century and a half ago; but such was the case, as any one may
see in the _Dictionary of Canting Words_, at the end of _Bacchus and
Venus_,[22] 1737. They are inserted not as jokes or squibs, but as
selections from the veritable pocket dictionaries of the Jack Sheppards
and Dick Turpins of the day. If they were safely used as unknown and
cabalistic terms amongst the commonalty, the fact would form a very
curious illustration of the ignorance of our poor ancestors. One
piece of information is conveyed to us, _i.e._, that the “Knights” or
“Gentlemen of the road,” using these polite words in those days of
highwaymen, were really well educated men,—which heretofore has always
been a hard point of belief, notwithstanding old novels and operas.
Amongst those Cant words which have either altered their meaning, or
have become extinct, I may cite LADY, formerly the Cant for “a very
crooked, deformed, and ill-shapen woman;”[23] and HARMAN, “a pair of
stocks, or a constable.” The former is a pleasant piece of satire,
whilst the latter indicates a singular method of revenge. HARMAN was
the first author who specially wrote against English vagabonds, and for
his trouble his name became synonymous with a pair of stocks, and a
policeman of the olden time.
Apart from the Gipsey element, we find that Cant abounds in terms from
foreign languages, and that it exhibits the growth of most recognised
and completely formed tongues,—the gathering of words from foreign
sources. In the reign of Elizabeth and of King James I., several
Dutch, Spanish, and Flemish words were introduced by soldiers who had
served in the Low Countries, and sailors who had returned from the
Spanish Main, who like “mine ancient Pistol” were fond of garnishing
their speech with outlandish phrases. Many of these were soon picked
up and adopted by vagabonds and tramps in their Cant language. The
Anglo-Norman and the Anglo-Saxon, the Scotch, the French, the Italian,
and even the classic languages of ancient Italy and Greece, have
contributed to its list of words,—besides the various provincial
dialects of England. Indeed, as Mayhew remarks, English Cant seems
to be formed on the same basis as the _Argot_ of the French, and the
_Roth-Spræc_ of the Germans,—partly metaphorical, and partly by the
introduction of such corrupted foreign terms as are likely to be
unknown to the society amid which the Cant speakers exist. ARGOT is the
London thieves’ word for their secret language,—it is, of course, from
the French, but that matters not so long as it is incomprehensible to
the police and the mob. BOOZE, or BOUSE, I am reminded by a friendly
correspondent, comes from the Dutch, BUYSEN. DOMINE, a parson, is
from the Latin; and DON, a clever fellow, has been filched from the
Spanish. DONNA AND FEELES, a woman and children, is from the Lingua
Franca, or bastard Italian, although it sounds like an odd mixture of
Spanish and French; whilst DUDDS, the vulgar term for clothes, may have
been pilfered either from the Gaelic or the Dutch. FEELE, a daughter,
from the French; and FROW, a girl or wife, from the German—are common
tramps’ terms. So are GENT, silver, from the French, _Argent_; and
VIAL, a country town, also from the French. HORRID-HORN, a fool, is
believed to be from the Erse; and GLOAK, a man, from the Scotch. As
stated before, the Dictionary will supply numerous other instances.
There is one source, however, of secret street terms, which, in
the first edition of this work, was entirely overlooked,—indeed,
it was unknown to the editor until pointed out by a friendly
correspondent,—the _Lingua Franca_, or bastard Italian, spoken at
Genoa, Trieste, Malta, Constantinople, Smyrna, Alexandria, and all
Mediterranean seaport towns. The ingredients of this imported Cant
are many. Its foundation is Italian, with a mixture of modern Greek,
German (from the Austrian ports), Spanish, Turkish, and French. It has
been introduced to the notice of the London wandering tribes by the
sailors, foreign and English, who trade to and from the Mediterranean
seaports, by the swarms of organ players from all parts of Italy, and
by the makers of images from Rome and Florence,—all of whom, in dense
thoroughfares, mingle with our lower orders. It would occupy too much
space here to give a list of these words. They are all noted in the
Dictionary.
“There are several Hebrew terms in our Cant language, obtained, it
would appear, from the intercourse of the thieves with the Jew _fences_
(receivers of stolen goods); many of the Cant terms, again, are
Sanscrit, got from the Gipseys; many Latin, got by the beggars from
the Catholic prayers before the Reformation; and many, again, Italian,
got from the wandering musicians and others; indeed the showmen have
but lately introduced a number of Italian phrases into their Cant
language.”[24] The Hindostanèe also contributes several words, and
these have been introduced by the Lascar sailors, who come over here
in the East Indiamen, and lodge during their stay in the low tramps’
lodging houses at the East end of London. Speaking of the learned
tongues, I may mention that, precarious and abandoned as the vagabond’s
existence is, many persons of classical or refined education have from
time to time joined the ranks,—occasionally from inclination, as in
the popular instance of Bamfylde Moore Carew, but generally through
indiscretion, and loss of character.[25] This will in some measure
account for numerous classical and learned words figuring as Cant terms
in the vulgar Dictionary.
In the early part of the last century, when highwaymen were by all
accounts so plentiful, a great many new words were added to the canting
vocabulary, whilst several old terms fell into disuse. CANT, for
instance, as applied to thieves’ talk, was supplanted by the word FLASH.
A singular feature, however, in vulgar language, is the retention
and the revival of sterling old English words, long since laid up
in ancient manuscripts, or the subject of dispute among learned
antiquaries. Disraeli somewhere says, “the purest source of _neology_
is in the revival of _old words_”—
“Words that wise Bacon or brave Rawleigh spake,”
and Dr. Latham honours our subject by remarking that “the thieves of
London are the conservators of Anglo-Saxonisms.” Mayhew, too, in his
interesting work, _London Labour and London Poor_, admits that many
Cant and Slang phrases are merely old English terms, which have
become obsolete through the caprices of fashion. And the reader who
looks into the Dictionary of the vagabonds’ lingo, will see at a
glance that these gentlemen were quite correct, and that we are
compelled to acknowledge the singular truth that a great many old
words, once respectable, and in the mouths of kings and fine ladies,
are now only so many signals for shrugs and shudders amongst
exceedingly polite people. A Belgravian gentleman who had lost his
watch or his pocket-handkerchief, would scarcely remark to his mamma
that it had been BONED—yet BONE, in old times, meant to steal
amongst high and low. And a young lady living in the precincts of
dingy, but aristocratic May-Fair, although enraptured with a Jenny
Lind or a Ristori, would hardly think of turning back in the box to
inform papa that she, Ristori or Lind, “made no BONES of it”—yet the
phrase was most respectable and well-to-do, before it met with a
change of circumstances. “A CRACK article,” however first-rate,
would, as far as speech is concerned, have greatly displeased Dr.
Johnson and Mr. Walker—yet both CRACK, in the sense of excellent,
and CRACK UP, to boast or praise, were not considered vulgarisms in
the time of Henry VIII. DODGE, a cunning trick, is from the
Anglo-Saxon; and ancient nobles used to “get each other’s DANDER UP”
before appealing to their swords,—quite FLABERGASTING (also a
respectable old word) the half score of lookers-on with the thumps
and cuts of their heavy weapons. GALLAVANTING, waiting upon the
ladies, was as polite in expression as in action; whilst a clergyman
at Paule’s Crosse, thought nothing of bidding a noisy hearer to
“hold his GAB,” or “shut up his GOB.” GADDING, roaming about in an
idle and trapesing manner, was used in an old translation of the
Bible; and “to do anything GINGERLY” was to do it with great care.
Persons of modern tastes will be shocked to know that the great Lord
Bacon spoke of the lower part of a man’s face as his GILLS.
Shakespere, or as the French say, “the divine William,” also used many
words which are now counted as dreadfully vulgar. “CLEAN gone,” in the
sense of out of sight, or entirely away; “you took me all A-MORT,” or
confounded me; “it won’t FADGE,” or suit, are phrases taken at random
from the great dramatist’s works. A London costermonger, or inhabitant
of the streets, instead of saying “I’ll make him yield,” or “give
in,” in a fight or contest, would say, “I’ll make him BUCKLE under.”
Shakespere, in his _Henry the Fourth_ (Part 2, Act i., Scene 1) has the
word, and Mr. Halliwell, one of the greatest and most industrious of
living antiquaries, informs us, that “the commentators do not supply
another example.” How strange, then, that the Bard of Avon, and the
Cockney costermongers, should be joint partners and sole proprietors
of the vulgarism. If Shakespere was not a pugilist, he certainly
anticipated the terms of the prize ring—or they were respectable words
before the prize ring was thought of—for he has PAY, to beat or thrash,
and PEPPER, with a similar meaning; also FANCY, in the sense of pets
and favourites,—pugilists are often termed _the_ FANCY. The cant word
PRIG, from the Saxon, _priccan_, to filch, is also Shakesperian; so
indeed is PIECE, a contemptuous term for a young woman. Shakespere was
not the only vulgar dramatist of his time. Ben Jonson, Beaumont and
Fletcher, Brome, and other play-writers, occasionally put cant words
into the mouths of their low characters, or employed old words which
have since degenerated into vulgarisms. CRUSTY, poor tempered; “two of
a KIDNEY,” two of a sort; LARK, a piece of fun; LUG, to pull; BUNG, to
give or pass; PICKLE, a sad plight; FRUMP, to mock, are a few specimens
casually picked from the works of the old histrionic writers.
One old English mode of canting, simple and effective when familiarised
by practice, was the inserting a consonant betwixt each syllable; thus,
taking _g_, “How do you do?” would be “Hou_g_ do_g_ you_g_ do_g_?” The
name very properly given to this disagreeable nonsense, we are informed
by Grose, was _Gibberish_.
Another Cant has recently been attempted by transposing the initial
letters of words, so that a mutton chop becomes a _c_utton _m_op, a
pint of stout a _s_tint of _p_out; but it is satisfactory to know that
it has gained no ground. This is called _Marrowskying_, or _Medical
Greek_, from its use by medical students at the hospitals. Albert Smith
terms it the _Gower-street Dialect_.
The _Language of Ziph_, I may add, is another rude mode of disguising
English, in use among the students at Winchester College.
ACCOUNT OF THE HIEROGLYPHICS USED BY VAGABONDS.
One of the most singular chapters in a _History of Vagabondism_ would
certainly be an account of the Hieroglyphic signs used by tramps and
thieves. The reader may be startled to know that, in addition to a
secret language, the wandering tribes of this country have private
marks and symbolic signs with which to score their successes, failures,
and advice to succeeding beggars; in fact, that the country is
really dotted over with beggars’ finger posts and guide stones. The
assertion, however strange it may appear, is no fiction. The subject
was not long since brought under the attention of the Government by
Mr. Rawlinson.[26] “There is,” he says in his report, “a sort of
blackguards’ literature, and the initiated understand each other by
slang [cant] terms, by pantomimic signs, _and by_ HIEROGLYPHICS. _The
vagrant’s mark may be seen in Havant, on corners of streets, on door
posts, and on house steps. Simple as these chalk lines appear, they
inform the succeeding vagrants of all they require to know; and a few
white scratches may say, ‘be importunate,’ or ‘pass on.’_”
Another very curious account was taken from a provincial newspaper,
published in 1849, and forwarded to _Notes and Queries_,[27] under
the head of MENDICANT FREEMASONRY. “Persons,” remarks the writer,
“indiscreet enough to open their purses to the relief of the beggar
tribe, would do well to take a readily learned lesson as to the
folly of that misguided benevolence which encourages and perpetuates
vagabondism. Every door or passage is pregnant with instruction as
to the error committed by the patron of beggars, as the beggar-marks
show that a system of freemasonry is followed, by which a beggar knows
whether it will be worth his while to call into a passage or knock
at a door. Let any one examine the entrances to the passages in any
town, and there he will find chalk marks, unintelligible to him, but
significant enough to beggars. If a thousand towns are examined, the
same marks will be found at every passage entrance. The passage mark
is a cypher with a twisted tail: in some cases the tail projects into
the passage, in others outwardly; thus seeming to indicate whether the
houses down the passage are worth calling at or not. Almost every door
has its marks: these are varied. In some cases there is a cross on the
brick work, in others a cypher: the figures 1, 2, 3, are also used.
Every person may for himself test the accuracy of these statements
by the examination of the brick work near his own doorway—thus
demonstrating that mendicity is a regular trade, carried out upon a
system calculated to save time, and realise the largest profits.” These
remarks refer mainly to provincial towns, London being looked upon as
the tramps’ home, and therefore too FLY, or experienced, to be duped by
such means.
The only other notice of the hieroglyphics of vagabonds that I have
met with, is in _Mayhew’s London Labour and London Poor_.[28] Mayhew
obtained his information from two tramps, who stated that hawkers
employ these signs as well as beggars. One tramp thus described
the method of WORKING[29] a small town. “Two hawkers (PALS[29]) go
together, but separate when they enter a village, one taking one side
of the road, and selling different things; and so as to inform each
other as to the character of the people at whose houses they call,
_they chalk certain marks on their door posts_.” Another informant
stated that “if a PATTERER[29] has been CRABBED (that is, offended) at
any of the CRIBS (houses), _he mostly chalks a signal at or near the
door_.”
Another use is also made of these hieroglyphics. Charts of successful
begging neighbourhoods are rudely drawn, and symbolical signs attached
to each house to show whether benevolent or adverse.[30] “In many cases
there is over the kitchen mantel-piece” of a tramps’ lodging-house “_a
map of the district_, dotted here and there with memorandums of failure
or success.”[31] A correct facsimile of one of these singular maps has
been placed as a frontispiece. It was obtained from the patterers and
tramps who supplied a great many words for this work, and who have
been employed by me for some time in collecting Old Ballads, Christmas
Carols, Dying Speeches, and Last Lamentations, as materials for a
_History of Popular Literature_. The reader will no doubt be amused
with the drawing. The locality depicted is near Maidstone, in Kent, and
I am informed that it was probably sketched by a wandering SCREEVER[32]
in payment for a night’s lodging. The English practice of marking
everything, and scratching names on public property, extends itself to
the tribe of vagabonds. On the map, as may be seen in the left hand
corner, some TRAVELLER[32] has drawn a favourite or noted female,
singularly nick-named _Three-quarter Sarah_. What were the peculiar
accomplishments of this lady to demand so uncommon a name, the reader
will be at a loss to discover, but a patterer says it probably refers
to a shuffling dance of that name, common in tramps’ lodging-houses,
and in which “¾ Sarah” may have been a proficient. Above her, three
beggars or hawkers have reckoned their day’s earnings, amounting to
13s.; and on the right a tolerably correct sketch of a low hawker,
or costermonger, is drawn. “To Dover, the _nigh_ way,” is the exact
phraseology; and “hup here,” a fair specimen of the self-acquired
education of the tribe of cadgers. No key or explanation to the
hieroglyphics was given in the original, because it would have been
superfluous, when every inmate of the lodging-house knew the marks from
their cradle—or rather their mother’s back.
Should there be no map, “in most lodging-houses there is an old man who
is guide to every ‘WALK’ in the vicinity, and who can tell each house
on every round, that is ‘good for a cold tatur.’”[33] The hieroglyphics
that are used are:—
☓ NO GOOD; too poor, and know too much.
◠+ STOP,—if you have what they want, they will buy. They are pretty
“_fly_” (knowing).
⸧— GO IN THIS DIRECTION, it is better than the other road. Nothing
that way.
◇ _BONE_ (good). Safe for a “cold tatur,” if for nothing else.
“_Cheese your patter_” (don’t talk much) here.
▽ _COOPER’D_ (spoilt), by too many tramps calling there.
□ _GAMMY_ (unfavourable), likely to have you taken up. Mind the dog.
☉ _FLUMMUXED_ (dangerous), sure of a month in “_quod_” (prison).
⊕ _RELIGIOUS_, but tidy on the whole.
Where did these signs come from, and when were they first used?
are questions which I have asked myself again and again, whilst
endeavouring to discover their history. Knowing the character of the
Gipseys, and ascertaining from a tramp that they are well acquainted
with the hieroglyphics, “and have been as long ago as ever he could
remember,” I have little hesitation in ascribing the invention to
them. And strange it would be if some modern Belzoni, or Champollion,
discovered in these beggars’ marks fragments of ancient Egyptian or
Hindoo hieroglyphical writing! But this, of course, is a simple vagary
of the imagination.
That the Gipseys were in the habit of leaving memorials of the road
they had taken, and the successes that had befallen them, there can
be no doubt. In an old book, _The Triumph of Wit_, 1724, there is a
passage which appears to have been copied from some older work, and
it runs thus:—“The Gipseys set out twice a year, and scatter all over
England, each parcel having their appointed stages, that they may not
interfere, nor hinder each other; and for that purpose, when they set
forward in the country, _they stick up boughs in the way of divers
kinds, according as it is agreed among them, that one company may know
which way another is gone, and so take a different road_.” The works of
_Hoyland_ and _Borrow_ supply other instances.
I cannot close this subject without drawing attention to the
extraordinary fact, that actually on the threshold of the gibbet the
sign of the vagabond is to be met with! “The murderer’s signal is even
exhibited from the gallows; as a red handkerchief held in the hand of
the felon about to be executed is a token that he dies without having
betrayed any professional secrets.”[34]
Since the first edition of this work was published the author has
received from various parts of England numerous evidences of the
still active use of beggars’ marks, and mendicant hieroglyphics. One
gentleman writes from Great Yarmouth to say that only a short time
since, whilst residing in Norwich, he used frequently to see them on
the houses and street corners. From another gentleman, a clergyman, I
learn that he has so far made himself acquainted with the meanings of
the signs employed, that by himself marking the characters □ (_Gammy_)
or ☉ (_Flummuxed_) on the gate posts of his parsonage, he enjoys a
singular immunity from alms-seekers of all orders.
THE HISTORY OF SLANG,
OR THE VULGAR LANGUAGE OF FAST LIFE.
SLANG is the language of street humour, of fast, high, and low life.
CANT, as was stated in the chapter upon that subject, is the vulgar
language of secrecy. They are both universal and ancient, and appear
to have been the peculiar concomitants of gay, vulgar, or worthless
persons in every part of the world, at every period of time. Indeed, if
we are to believe implicitly the saying of _the_ wise man, that “there
is nothing new under the sun,” the “fast” men of buried Nineveh, with
their knotty and door-matty looking beards, may have cracked Slang
jokes on the steps of Sennacherib’s palace; and the stocks and stones
of Ancient Egypt, and the bricks of venerable and used-up Babylon,
may, for aught we know, be covered with Slang hieroglyphics unknown
to modern antiquarians, and which have long been stumbling-blocks to
the philologist; so impossible is it at this day to say what was then
authorised, or what then vulgar language. Slang is as old as speech
and the congregating together of people in cities. It is the result of
crowding, and excitement, and artificial life. Even to the classics
it was not unknown, as witness the pages of Aristophanes and Plautus,
Terence and Athenæus. Martial, the epigrammatist, is full of Slang.
When an uninvited guest accompanied his friend, the Slang of the day
styled him his UMBRA; when a man was trussed, neck and heels, it called
him jocosely QUADRUPUS.
Old English Slang was coarser, and depended more upon downright
vulgarity than our modern Slang. It was a jesting speech, or humorous
indulgence for the thoughtless moment, or the drunken hour, and it
acted as a vent-peg for a fit of temper or irritability; but it did not
interlard and permeate every description of conversation as now. It
was confined to nick-names and improper subjects, and encroached but
to a very small extent upon the domain of authorised speech. Indeed,
it was exceedingly limited when compared with the vast territory of
Slang in such general favour and complete circulation at the present
day. Still, although not an alarming encumbrance, as in our time,
Slang certainly did exist in this country centuries ago, as we may
see if we look down the page of any respectable History of England.
Cromwell was familiarly called OLD NOLL,—just the same as Buonaparte
was termed BONEY, and Wellington CONKEY, or NOSEY, only a few years
ago. His Legislature, too, was spoken of in a high-flavoured way as
the BAREBONES, or RUMP Parliament, and his followers were nicknamed
ROUNDHEADS, and the peculiar religious sects of his protectorate were
styled PURITANS and QUAKERS.[35] The Civil War pamphlets, and the
satirical hits of the Cavaliers and the Commonwealth men, originated
numerous Slang words and vulgar similes, in full use at the present
moment. Here is a field of inquiry for the Philological Society, indeed
I may say a territory, for there are thirty thousand of these partisan
tracts. Later still, in the court of Charles the Second, the naughty
ladies and the gay lords, with Rochester at their head, talked Slang;
and very naughty Slang it was too! Fops, in those days, when “over
head and ears” in debt, and in continual fear of arrest, termed their
enemies, the bailiffs, PHILISTINES[36] or MOABITES. At a later period,
when collars were worn detached from shirts, in order to save the
expense of washing—an object it would seem with needy “swells” in all
ages—they obtained the name of JACOBITES. One half of the coarse wit in
Butler’s Hudibras lurks in the vulgar words and phrases which he was
so fond of employing. They were more homely and forcible than the mild
and elegant sentences of Cowley, and the people, therefore, hurrah’d
them, and pronounced Butler one of themselves,—or, as we should say, in
a joyful moment, a jolly good fellow. Orator Henley preached and prayed
in Slang, and first charmed and then swayed the dirty mobs in Lincoln’s
Inn Fields by vulgarisms. Burly Grose mentions Henley, with the remark
that we owe a great many Slang phrases to him. Swift, and old Sir Roger
L’Estrange, and Arbuthnot, were all fond of vulgar or Slang language;
indeed, we may see from a Slang word used by the latter how curious
is the gradual adoption of vulgar terms in our standard dictionaries.
The worthy doctor, in order to annihilate (or, as we should say with a
fitting respect to the subject under consideration, SMASH) an opponent,
thought proper on an occasion to use the word CABBAGE, not in the
ancient and esculentary sense of a flatulent vegetable of the kitchen
garden, but in the at once Slang sense of purloining or cribbing.
Johnson soon met with the word, looked at it, examined it, weighed it,
and shook his head, but out of respect to a brother doctor inserted it
in his dictionary, labelling it, however, prominently “_Cant_;” whilst
Walker and Webster, years after, when _to cabbage_ was to _pilfer_ all
over England, placed the term in their dictionaries as an ancient and
very respectable word. Another Slang term, GULL, to cheat, or delude,
sometimes varied to GULLY, is stated to be connected with the Dean
of St. Patrick. GULL, a dupe, or a fool, is often used by our old
dramatists, and is generally believed to have given rise to the verb;
but a curious little edition of _Bamfylde Moore Carew_, published in
1827, says that TO GULL, or GULLY, is derived from the well known
_Gulliver_, the hero of the famous _Travels_. How crammed with Slang
are the dramatic works of the last century! The writers of the comedies
and farces in those days must have lived in the streets, and written
their plays in the public-houses, so filled are they with vulgarisms
and unauthorised words. The popular phrases, “I owe you one,” “that’s
one for his nob,” and “keep moving, dad,” arose in this way.[37] The
second of these sayings was, doubtless, taken from the card table, for
at cribbage the player who holds the knave of the suit turned up counts
“one for his nob,” and the dealer who turns up a knave counts “two for
his heels.”
In Mrs. Centlivre’s admirable comedy of _A Bold Stroke for a Wife_,
we see the origin of that popular street phrase, THE REAL SIMON PURE.
Simon Pure is the Quaker name adopted by Colonel Feignwell as a trick
to obtain the hand of Mistress Anne Lovely in marriage. The veritable
Quaker, the “real Simon Pure,” recommended by Aminadab Holdfast, of
Bristol, as a fit sojourner with Obadiah Prim, arrives at last to
the discomfiture of the Colonel, who, to maintain his position and
gain time, concocts a letter in which the real Quaker is spoken of as
a housebreaker who had travelled in the “leather conveniency” from
Bristol, and adopted the garb and name of the Western Quaker in order
to pass off as the “REAL SIMON PURE,” but only for the purpose of
robbing the house and cutting the throat of the perplexed Obadiah. The
scene in which the two Simon Pures, the _real_ and the _counterfeit_,
meet, is one of the best in the comedy.
Tom Brown, of “facetious memory,” as his friends were wont to say, and
Ned Ward, who wrote humorous books, and when tired drew beer for his
customers at his ale-house in Long Acre,[38] were both great producers
of Slang in the last century, and to them we owe many popular current
phrases and household words.
Written Slang was checked rather than advanced by the pens of Addison,
Johnson, and Goldsmith, although John Bee, the bottle-holder and
historiographer of the pugilistic band of brothers in the youthful
days of flat-nosed Tom Crib, has gravely stated that Johnson, when
young and rakish, contributed to an early volume of the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ a few pages, by way of specimen, of a Slang dictionary, the
result, Mr. Bee says, “of his midnight ramblings!”[39] And Goldsmith,
I must not forget to remark, certainly coined a few words, although,
as a rule, his pen was pure and graceful, and adverse to neologisms.
The word FUDGE, it has been stated, was first used by him in literary
composition, although it originated with one Captain Fudge, a notorious
fibber, nearly a century before. Street-phrases, nick-names, and
vulgar words were continually being added to the great stock of
popular Slang up to the commencement of the present century, when it
received numerous additions from pugilism, horse-racing, and “fast”
life generally, which suddenly came into great public favour, and
was at its height when the Prince Regent was in his rakish minority.
Slang in those days was generally termed FLASH language. So popular
was it with the “bloods” of high life that it constituted the best
paying literary capital for certain authors and dramatists. Pierce Egan
issued _Boxiana_, and _Life in London_, six portly octavo volumes,
crammed with Slang; and Moncrieff wrote the most popular farce of
the day, _Tom and Jerry_ (adapted from the latter work), which, to
use newspaper Slang, “took the town by storm,” and, with its then
fashionable vulgarisms, made the fortune of the old Adelphi Theatre,
and was, without exception, the most wonderful instance of a continuous
theatrical RUN in ancient or modern times. This, also, was brimful of
Slang. Other authors helped to popularise and extend Slang down to our
own time, when it has taken a somewhat different turn, dropping many
of the Cant and old vulgar words, and assuming a certain quaint and
fashionable phraseology—Frenchy, familiar, utilitarian, and jovial.
There can be no doubt but that common speech is greatly influenced by
fashion, fresh manners, and that general change of ideas which steals
over a people once in a generation. But before I proceed further
into the region of _Slang_, it will be well to say something on the
etymology of the word.
The word SLANG is only mentioned by two lexicographers—Webster and
Ogilvie. Johnson, Walker, and the older compilers of dictionaries, give
_slang_ the preterite of _sling_, but not a word about SLANG in the
sense of low, vulgar, or unrecognised language. The origin of the word
has often been asked for in literary journals and books, but only one
man, as far as I can learn, has ever hazarded an etymology—Jonathan
Bee, the vulgar chronicler of the prize-ring.[40] With a recklessness
peculiar to pugilism, Bee stated that SLANG was derived from “the
_slangs_ or fetters worn by prisoners, having acquired that name from
the manner in which they were worn, as they required a sling of string
to keep them off the ground.” Bee had just been nettled at Pierce Egan
producing a new edition of _Grose’s Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue_,
and was determined to excel him in a vulgar dictionary of his own,
which should be more racy, more pugilistic, and more original. How far
he succeeded in this latter particular his ridiculous etymology of
Slang will show. SLANG is not an English word, it is the Gipsey term
for their secret language, and its synonyme is GIBBERISH—another word
which was believed to have had no distinct origin.[41] Grose—stout and
burly Captain Grose—who we may characterise as the greatest antiquary,
joker, and drinker of porter of his day, was the first author who put
the word SLANG into print. It occurs in his _Classical Dictionary of
the Vulgar Tongue_, of 1785, with the signification that it implies
“Cant or vulgar language.” Grose, I may remark in passing, was a
great favourite with the poet Burns, and so pleased by his extensive
powers of story-telling and grog-imbibing, that the companionable and
humour-loving Scotch bard wrote for his fat friend—or, to use his
own words, “the fine, fat, fodgel wight”—the immortal poem of “Tam
O’Shanter.”
Without troubling the reader with a long account of the transformation
into an English term of the word SLANG, I may remark in passing that
it is easily seen how we obtained it from the Gipseys. Hucksters and
beggars on tramp, or at fairs and races, associate and frequently join
in any rough enterprise with the Gipseys. The word would be continually
heard by them, and would in this manner soon become CANT;[42] and, when
carried by “fast” or vulgar fashionables from the society of thieves
and low characters to their own drawing-rooms, would as quickly become
SLANG, and the representative term for all vulgar or Slang language.
Any sudden excitement, peculiar circumstance, or popular literary
production, is quite sufficient to originate and set going a score
of Slang words. Nearly every election or public agitation throws
out offshoots of the excitement, or scintillations of the humour
in the shape of Slang terms—vulgar at first, but at length adopted
as semi-respectable from the force of habit and custom. There is
scarcely a condition or calling in life that does not possess its own
peculiar Slang. The professions, legal and medical, have each familiar
and unauthorised terms for peculiar circumstances and things, and
I am quite certain that the clerical calling, or “_the cloth_,” is
not entirely free from this peculiarity. Every workshop, warehouse,
factory, and mill throughout the country has its Slang, and so have
the public schools of Eton, Harrow, and Westminster, and the great
Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. Sea Slang constitutes the
principal charm of a sailor’s “yarn,” and our soldiers and officers
have each their peculiar nicknames and terms for things and subjects
proper and improper. A writer in _Household Words_ (No. 183) has
gone so far as to remark, that a person “shall not read one single
parliamentary debate, as reported in a first-class newspaper, without
meeting scores of Slang words;” and “that from Mr. Speaker in his
chair, to the Cabinet Ministers whispering behind it—from mover to
seconder, from true blue Protectionist to extremest Radical—Mr. Barry’s
New House echoes and re-echoes with Slang.” Really it seems as if our
boasted English tongue was a very paltry and ill-provided contrivance
after all; or can it be that we are the most vulgar of people?
The universality of Slang is extraordinary. Let any person for a short
time narrowly examine the conversation of their dearest and nearest
friends, aye, censor-like, even slice and analyse their own supposed
correct talk, and they shall be amazed at the numerous unauthorised,
and what we can only call vulgar, words they continually employ. It is
not the number of new words that we are ever introducing that is so
reprehensible, there is not so much harm in this practice (frequently
termed in books “the license of expression”) if neologisms are really
required, but it is the continually encumbering of _old_ words with
fresh and strange meanings. Look at those simple and useful verbs,
_do_, _cut_, _go_, and _take_, and see how they are hampered and
overloaded, and then let us ask ourselves how it is that a French
or German gentleman, be he ever so well educated, is continually
blundering and floundering amongst our _little_ words when trying
to make himself understood in an ordinary conversation. He may have
studied our language the required time, and have gone through the usual
amount of “grinding,” and practised the common allotment of patience,
but all to no purpose as far as accuracy is concerned. I am aware that
most new words are generally regarded as Slang, although afterwards
they may become useful and respectable additions to our standard
dictionaries. JABBER and HOAX were Slang and Cant terms in Swift’s
time; so indeed were MOB and SHAM.[43] Words directly from the Latin
and Greek, and Carlyleisms, are allowed by an indulgent public to pass
and take their places in books. Sound contributes many Slang words—a
source that etymologists too frequently overlook. Nothing pleases an
ignorant person more than a high-sounding term “full of fury.” How
melodious and drum-like are those vulgar coruscations RUMBUMPTIOUS,
SLANTINGDICULAR, SPLENDIFEROUS, RUMBUSTIOUS, and FERRICADOUZER. What
a “pull” the sharp-nosed lodging-house keeper thinks she has over her
victims if she can but hurl such testimonies of a liberal education
at them when they are disputing her charges, and threatening to
ABSQUATULATE! In the United States the vulgar-genteel even excel the
poor “stuck-up” Cockneys in their formation of a native fashionable
language. How charming to a refined ear are ABSKIZE, CATAWAMPOUSLY,
EXFLUNCTIFY, OBSCUTE, KESLOSH, KESOUSE, KESWOLLOP, and KEWHOLLUX!
Vulgar words representing action and brisk movement often owe their
origin to sound. Mispronunciation, too, is another great source of
vulgar or slang words—RAMSHACKLE, SHACKLY, NARY-ONE for neither, or
neither one, OTTOMY for anatomy, RENCH for rinse, are specimens.
The commonalty dislike frequently occurring words difficult of
pronunciation, and so we have the street abridgments of BIMEBY for by
and by, CAZE for because, GIN for given, HANKERCHER for handkerchief,
RUMATIZ for rheumatism, BACKY for tobacco, and many others, not perhaps
Slang, but certainly all vulgarisms. Archbishop Whately, in his
interesting _Remains of Bishop Copleston_, has inserted a leaf from the
Bishop’s note-book on the popular corruption of names, mentioning among
others KICKSHAWS, as from the French, _quelques choses_; BEEFEATER,
the lubberly guardian of royalty in a procession, and the supposed
devourer of enormous beefsteaks, as but a vulgar pronunciation of the
French, _buffetier_; and GEORGE and CANNON, the sign of a public-house,
as nothing but a corruption (although so soon!) of the popular premier
of the last generation, _George Canning_. Literature has its Slang
terms; and the desire on the part of writers to say funny and startling
things in a novel and curious way (the late _Household Words_,[44] for
instance), contributes many unauthorised words to the great stock of
Slang.
_Fashionable_, or _Upper-class Slang_, is of several varieties. There
is the Belgravian, military and naval, parliamentary, dandy, and the
reunion and visiting Slang. Concerning the Slang of the fashionable
world, a writer in _Household Words_ curiously, but not altogether
truthfully, remarks, that it is mostly imported from France; and
that an unmeaning gibberish of Gallicisms runs through English
fashionable conversation, and fashionable novels, and accounts of
fashionable parties in the fashionable newspapers. Yet, ludicrously
enough, immediately the fashionable magnates of England seize on any
French idiom, the French themselves not only universally abandon it
to us, but positively repudiate it altogether from their idiomatic
vocabulary. If you were to tell a well-bred Frenchman that such and
such an aristocratic marriage was on the _tapis_, he would stare with
astonishment, and look down on the carpet in the startled endeavour
to find a marriage in so unusual a place. If you were to talk to him
of the _beau monde_, he would imagine you meant the world which God
made, not half-a-dozen streets and squares between Hyde Park Corner
and Chelsea Bun House. The _thé dansante_[45] would be completely
inexplicable to him. If you were to point out to him the Dowager Lady
Grimguffin acting as _chaperon_ to Lady Amanda Creamville, he would
imagine you were referring to the _petit Chaperon rouge_—to little Red
Riding Hood. He might just understand what was meant by _vis-a-vis_,
_entremets_, and some others of the flying horde of frivolous little
foreign slangisms hovering about fashionable cookery and fashionable
furniture; but three-fourths of them would seem to him as barbarous
French provincialisms, or, at best, but as antiquated and obsolete
expressions, picked out of the letters of Mademoiselle Scuderi, or the
tales of Crebillon the “younger.” Servants, too, appropriate the scraps
of French conversation which fall from their masters’ guests at the
dinner table, and forthwith in the world of flunkeydom the word “know”
is disused, and the lady’s maid, in doubt on a particular point, asks
John whether or no he SAVEYS it?[46] What, too, can be more abominable
than that heartless piece of fashionable newspaper Slang, regularly
employed when speaking of the successful courtship of young people in
the fashionable world:—
MARRIAGE IN HIGH LIFE.—We understand that a marriage is ARRANGED (!)
betwixt the Lady, &c. &c., and the Honourable, &c. &c.
ARRANGED! Is that cold-blooded Smithfield or Mark-lane term for a
sale or a purchase the proper word to express the hopeful, joyous,
golden union of young and trustful hearts? Which is the proper way to
pronounce the names of great people, and what the correct authority?
Lord Cowper, we are often assured, is Lord _Cooper_—on this principle
Lord Cowley would certainly be Lord _Cooley_—and Mr. Carew, we are
told, should be Mr. _Carey_, Ponsonby should be _Punsunby_, Eyre
should he _Aire_, Cholmondeley should be _Chumley_, St. John _Singen_,
Majoribanks _Marshbanks_, Derby _Darby_ (its ancient pronunciation),
and Powell should always be _Poel_. I don’t know that these lofty
persons have as much cause to complain of the illiberality of fate in
giving them disagreeable names as did the celebrated Psyche (as she was
termed by Tom Moore), whose original name, through her husband, was
_Teague_, but which was afterwards altered to Tighe.
_Parliamentary Slang_, excepting a few peculiar terms connected with
“_the_ House” (scarcely Slang, I suppose), is mainly composed of
fashionable, literary, and learned Slang. When members, however, get
excited and wish to be forcible, they are often not very particular
which of the street terms they select, providing it carries, as
good old Dr. South said, plenty of wild-fire in it. Sir Hugh Cairns
very lately spoke of “that homely but expressive phrase, DODGE.”
Out of “the House,” several Slang terms are used in connection with
Parliament or members of Parliament. If Lord Palmerston is known by
name to the tribes of the Caucasus and Asia Minor as a great foreign
diplomatist, when the name of our Queen Victoria is an unknown title
to the inhabitants of those parts—as was stated in the _Times_ a short
time ago,—I have only to remark that amongst the costers and the wild
inhabitants of the streets he is better known as PAM. I have often
heard the cabmen on the “ranks” in Piccadilly remark of the late
Chancellor of the Exchequer, when he has been going from his residence
at Grosvenor Gate, to Derby House in St. James’s Square,—“hollo,
there! de yer see old DIZZY doing a stump?” A PLUMPER is a single vote
at an election,—not a SPLIT-TICKET; and electors who have occupied a
house, no matter how small, and boiled a pot in it, thus qualifying
themselves for voting, are termed POT-WOLLOPERS. A quiet WALK OVER
is a re-election without opposition and much cost. A CAUCUS meeting
refers to the private assembling of politicians before an election,
when candidates are chosen and measures of action agreed upon. The term
comes from America. A JOB, in political phraseology, is a government
office or contract obtained by secret influence or favouritism. Only
the other day the _Times_ spoke of “the patriotic member of Parliament
POTTED OUT in a dusty little lodging somewhere about Bury-street.”
The term QUOCKERWODGER, although referring to a wooden toy figure
which jerks its limbs about when pulled by a string, has been
supplemented with a political meaning. A pseudo-politician, one whose
strings of action are pulled by somebody else, is now often termed
a QUOCKERWODGER. The term RAT, too, in allusion to rats deserting
vessels about to sink, has long been employed towards those turncoat
politicians who change their party for interest. Who that occasionally
passes near the Houses of Parliament has not often noticed stout or
careful M.P.s walk briskly through the Hall and on the curb-stone in
front, with umbrella or walking cane uplifted, shout to the cabmen
on the rank, FOUR-WHEELER! The term is a useful one, but I am afraid
we must consider it Slang, until it is stamped with the mint mark of
lexicographical authority.[47]
_Military_, or _Officers’ Slang_ is on a par, and of a character
with _Dandy Slang_. Inconvenient friends, or elderly and lecturing
relatives, are pronounced DREADFUL BORES. Four-wheel cabs are called
BOUNDERS; and a member of the Four-in-hand Club, driving to Epsom on
the Derby day, would, using fashionable slang phraseology, speak of
it as TOOLING HIS DRAG DOWN TO THE DERBY. A vehicle, if not a DRAG
(or dwag) is a TRAP, or a CASK; and if the TURN OUT happens to be in
other than a trim condition, it is pronounced at once as not DOWN
THE ROAD. Your city swell would say it is not UP TO THE MARK; whilst
the costermonger would call it WERY DICKEY. In the army a barrack
or military station is known as a LOBSTER-BOX; to “cram” for an
examination is to MUG-UP; to reject from the examination is to SPIN;
and that part of the barrack occupied by subalterns is frequently
spoken of as the ROOKERY. In dandy or swell Slang, any celebrity, from
Robson of the Olympic, to the Pope of Rome, is a SWELL. Wrinkled faced
old professors, who hold dress and fashionable tailors in abhorrence,
are called AWFUL SWELLS,—if they happen to be very learned or clever.
I may remark that in this upper class Slang a title is termed a
HANDLE; trousers, INEXPRESSIBLES; or when of a large pattern, or the
inflated Zouave cut, HOWLING BAGS; a superior appearance, EXTENSIVE; a
four-wheeled cab, a BIRDCAGE; a dance, a HOP; dining at another man’s
table, “sitting under his MAHOGANY;” anything flashy or showy, LOUD;
the peculiar make or cut of a coat, its BUILD; full dress, FULL-FIG;
wearing clothes which represent the very extreme of fashion, “dressing
to DEATH;” a reunion, a SPREAD; a friend (or a “good fellow”), a TRUMP;
a difficulty, a SCREW LOOSE; and everything that is unpleasant, “from
bad sherry to a writ from a tailor,” JEUCED INFERNAL. The military
phrase, “to send a man to COVENTRY,” or permit no person to speak to
him, although an ancient saying, must still be considered Slang.
The _Universities of Oxford and Cambridge_, and the great public
schools, are the hotbeds of fashionable Slang. Growing boys and
high-spirited young fellows detest restraint of all kinds, and prefer
making a dash at life in a Slang phraseology of their own, to all the
set forms and syntactical rules of _Alma Mater_. Many of the most
expressive words in a common chit-chat, or free-and-easy conversation,
are old University vulgarisms. CUT, in the sense of dropping an
acquaintance, was originally a Cambridge form of speech; and HOAX, to
deceive or ridicule, we are informed by Grose, was many years since an
Oxford term. Among the words that fast society has borrowed from our
great scholastic [I was going to say _establishments_, but I remembered
the linen drapers’ horrid and habitual use of the word] institutions,
I find CRIB, a house or apartments; DEAD-MEN, empty wine bottles;
DRAWING TEETH,[48] wrenching off knockers; FIZZING, first-rate, or
splendid; GOVERNOR, or RELIEVING OFFICER, the general term for a male
parent; PLUCKED, defeated or turned back; QUIZ, to scrutinise, or a
prying old fellow; and ROW, a noisy disturbance. The Slang words in
use at Oxford and Cambridge would alone fill a volume. As examples
I may instance SCOUT, which at Oxford refers to an undergraduate’s
valet, whilst the same menial at Cambridge is termed a GYP,—popularly
derived by the Cantabs from the Greek, GYPS (γυψ), a vulture; SCULL,
the head, or master of a college; BATTLES, the Oxford term for rations,
changed at Cambridge into COMMONS. The term DICKEY, a half shirt, I
am told, originated with the students of Trinity College, Dublin, who
at first styled it a TOMMY, from the Greek, τομη, a section. CRIB,
a literal translation, is now universal; GRIND refers to a walk,
or “constitutional;” HIVITE is a student of St. Begh’s (St. Bee’s)
College, Cumberland; to JAPAN, in this Slang speech, is to ordain;
MORTAR-BOARD is a square college cap; SIM a student of a Methodistical
turn,—in allusion to the Rev. Charles Simeon; SLOGGERS, at Cambridge,
refers to the second division of race boats, known at Oxford as
TORPIDS; SPORT is to show or exhibit; TROTTER is the jocose term for a
tailor’s man who goes round for orders; and TUFTS are wealthy students
who dine with the DONS, and are distinguished by golden _tufts_, or
tassels, in their caps. There are many terms in use at Oxford not known
at Cambridge; and such Slang names as COACH, GULF, HARRY-SOPH, POKER,
or POST-MORTEM, common enough at Cambridge, are seldom or never heard
at the great sister University. For numerous other examples of college
Slang, the reader is referred to the Dictionary.
_Religious Slang_, strange as the compound may appear, exists with
other descriptions of vulgar speech at the present day. _Punch_, a
short time since, in one of those half-humorous, half-serious articles
in which he is so fond of lecturing any national abuse or popular
folly, remarked that Slang had “long since penetrated into the Forum,
and now we meet it in the Senate, _and even the Pulpit itself is no
longer free from its intrusion_.” I would not, for one moment, wish to
infer that the practice is general. On the contrary, and in justice to
the clergy, it must be said that the principal disseminators of pure
English throughout the country are the ministers of our Established
Church. Yet it cannot be denied but that a great deal of Slang
phraseology and disagreeable vulgarism have gradually crept into the
very pulpits which should give forth as pure speech as doctrine.
Dean Conybeare, in his able _Essay on Church Parties_,[49] has
noticed this wretched addition to our pulpit speech. As stated in
his Essay, the practice appears to confine itself mainly to the
exaggerated forms of the High and Low Church—the Tractarians and
the “Recordites.”[50] By way of illustration, the Dean cites the
evening parties, or social meetings, common amongst the wealthier lay
members of the Recordite (exaggerated Evangelical) Churches, where
the principal topics discussed—one or more favourite clergymen being
present in a quasi-official manner—are “the merits and demerits of
different preachers, the approaching restoration of the Jews, the date
of the Millennium, the progress of the ‘Tractarian heresy,’ and the
anticipated ‘perversion’ of High Church neighbours.” These subjects are
canvassed in a dialect differing considerably from common English. The
words FAITHFUL, TAINTED, ACCEPTABLE, DECIDED, LEGAL, and many others,
are used in a technical sense. We hear that Mr. A. has been more OWNED
than Mr. B; and that Mr. C. has more SEALS[51] than Mr. D. Again, the
word GRACIOUS is invested with a meaning as extensive as that attached
by young ladies to _nice_. Thus, we hear of a “GRACIOUS sermon,” a
“GRACIOUS meeting,” a “GRACIOUS child,” and even a “GRACIOUS whipping.”
The word DARK has also a new and peculiar usage. It is applied to every
person, book, or place, not impregnated with Recordite principles. We
once were witnesses of a ludicrous misunderstanding resulting from this
phraseology. “What did you mean (said A. to B.) by telling me that ——
was such a very DARK village? I rode over there to day, and found the
street particularly broad and cheerful, and there is not a tree in the
place.” “_The Gospel is not preached there_,” was B.’s laconic reply.
The conclusion of one of these singular evening parties is generally
marked by an “_exposition_”—an unseasonable sermon of nearly one hour’s
duration, circumscribed by no text, and delivered from the table by
one of the clerical visitors with a view to “improve the occasion.” In
the same Essay, the religious Slang terms for the two great divisions
of the Established Church, receive some explanation. The old-fashioned
High Church party, rich and “stagnant,” noted for its “sluggish
mediocrity, hatred of zeal, dread of innovation, abuse of dissent,
blundering and languid utterance,” is called the HIGH AND DRY; whilst
the corresponding division, known as the Low Church, equally stagnant
with the former, but poorer, and more lazily inclined (from absence
of education), to dissent, receives the nickname of the LOW AND SLOW.
Already have these terms become so familiar that they are shortened, in
ordinary conversation, to the DRY and the SLOW. The so-called “Broad
Church,” I should remark, is often spoken of as the BROAD AND SHALLOW.
What can be more objectionable than the irreverent and offensive
manner in which many of the dissenting ministers continually pronounce
the names of the Deity, God and Lord. God, instead of pronouncing in
the plain and beautifully simple old English way, G-O-D, they drawl
out into GORDE or GAUDE; and Lord, instead of speaking in the proper
way, they desecrate into LOARD or LOERD,—lingering on the _u_, or
the _r_, as the case may be, until an honest hearer feels disgusted,
and almost inclined to run the gauntlet of beadles and deacons, and
pull the vulgar preacher from his pulpit. I have observed that many
young preachers strive hard to acquire this peculiar pronunciation,
in imitation of the older ministers. What can more properly, then, be
called Slang, or, indeed, the most objectionable of Slang, than this
studious endeavour to pronounce the most sacred names in a uniformly
vulgar and unbecoming manner. If the old-fashioned preacher whistled
Cant through his nose, the modern vulgar reverend whines Slang from
the more natural organ. These vagaries of speech will, perhaps, by
an apologist, he termed “pulpit peculiarities,” and the writer dared
to intermeddle with a subject that is or should be removed from his
criticisms. The terms used by the mob towards the Church, however
illiberal and satirically vulgar, are within his province in such an
inquiry as the present. A clergyman, in vulgar language, is spoken of
as a CHOKER, a CUSHION THUMPER, a DOMINE, an EARWIG, a GOSPEL GRINDER,
a GRAY COAT PARSON—if he is a lessee of the great tithes, ONE IN TEN,
PADRE—if spoken of by an Anglo-Indian, a ROOK, a SPOUTER, a WHITE
CHOKER, or a WARMING PAN RECTOR, if he only holds the living _pro
tempore_, or is simply keeping the place warm for his successor. If a
Tractarian, his outer garment is rudely spoken of as a PYGOSTOLE, or
M.B. (MARK OF THE BEAST) COAT. His profession is termed THE CLOTH, and
his practice TUB THUMPING. Should he belong to the dissenting body,
he is probably styled a PANTILER, or a PSALM SMITER, or, perhaps, a
SWADDLER. His chapel, too, is spoken of as a SCHISM SHOP. A Roman
Catholic, I may remark, is coarsely named a BRISKET BEATER.
Particular as lawyers generally are about the meaning of words, they
have not prevented an unauthorised phraseology from arising, which
we may term _Legal Slang_. So forcibly did this truth impress a late
writer, that he wrote in a popular journal, “You may hear Slang every
day in term from barristers in their robes, at every mess-table,
at every bar-mess, at every college commons, and in every club
dining-room.” Swift, in his _Art of Polite Conversation_ (p. 15),
published a century and a half ago, states that VARDI was the Slang
in his time for “verdict.” A few of the most common and well-known
terms used out of doors, with reference to legal matters, are COOK, to
hash or make up a balance-sheet; DIPPED, mortgaged; DUN, to solicit
payment; FULLIED, to be “_fully_ committed for trial;” LAND-SHARK, a
sailor’s definition of a lawyer; LIMB OF THE LAW, a milder term for
the same “professional;” MONKEY WITH A LONG TAIL, a mortgage—phrase
used in the well-known case for libel, Smith _v._ Jones; MOUTHPIECE,
the coster’s term for his counsel; “to go through the RING,” to take
advantage of the Insolvency Act; SMASH, to become bankrupt; SNIPE, an
attorney with a long bill; and WHITEWASHED, said of any debtor who has
taken the benefit of the Insolvent Act. Lawyers, from their connection
with the police courts, and transactions with persons in every grade of
society, have ample opportunities for acquiring street Slang, which in
cross-questioning and wrangling they frequently avail themselves of.
It has been said there exists a _Literary Slang_, or “the _Slang
of Criticism_—dramatic, artistic, and scientific. Such words as
‘æsthetic,’ ‘transcendental,’ the ‘harmonies,’ the ‘unities,’ a
‘myth:’ such phrases as ‘an exquisite _morceau_ on the big drum,’ a
‘scholarlike rendering of John the Baptist’s great toe,’ ‘keeping
harmony,’ ‘middle distance,’ ‘ærial perspective,’ ‘delicate handling,’
‘nervous chiaroscuro,’ and the like.” More than one literary journal
that I could name are fond of employing such terms in their art
criticisms, but it is questionable, after all, whether they are not
allowable as the generous inflections and bendings of a bountiful
language, for the purpose of expressing fresh phases of thought, and
ideas not yet provided with representative words.[52] The well-known
and ever-acceptable _Punch_, with his fresh and choice little pictorial
bits by Leech, often employs a Slang term to give point to a joke,
or humour to a line of satire. A short time since (4th May, 1859) he
gave an original etymology of the school-boy-ism SLOG. SLOG, said the
classical and studious _Punch_, is derived from the Greek word SLOGO,
to baste, to wallop, to slaughter. And it was not long ago that he
amused his readers with two columns on _Slang and Sanscrit_:—
“The allegory which pervades the conversation of all Eastern
nations,” remarked the philosophical _Punch_, “is the foundation
of Western Slang; and the increased number of students of the
Oriental languages, especially since Sanscrit and Arabic have been
made subjects for the Indian Civil Service Examinations, may have
contributed to supply the English language with a large portion of
its new dialect. While, however, the spirit of allegory comes from
the East, there is so great a difference between the brevity of
Western expression and the more cumbrous diction of the Oriental,
that the origin of a phrase becomes difficult to trace. Thus, for
instance, whilst the Turkish merchant might address his friend
somewhat as follows—‘That which seems good to my father is to his
servant as the perfumed breath of the west wind in the calm night of
the Arabian summer;’ the Western negociator observes more briefly,
‘ALL SERENE!’”
But the vulgar term, BRICK, _Punch_ remarks in illustration,
“must be allowed to be an exception, its Greek derivation being
universally admitted, corresponding so exactly as it does in its
rectangular form and compactness to the perfection of manhood,
according to the views of _Plato_ and _Simonides_; but any deviation
from the simple expression, in which locality is indicated,—as, for
instance, ‘a genuine Bath,’—decidedly breathes the Oriental spirit.”
It is singular that what _Punch_ says, unwittingly and in humour,
respecting the Slang expression, BOSH, should be quite true. BOSH,
remarks _Punch_, after speaking of it as belonging to the stock of
words pilfered from the Turks, “is one whose innate force and beauty
the slangographer is reluctantly compelled to admit. It is the only
word which seems a proper appellation for a great deal which we are
obliged to hear and to read every day of our life.” BOSH, nonsense
or stupidity, is derived from the _Gipsey_ and the _Persian_. The
universality of Slang, I may here remark, is proved by its continual
use in the pages of _Punch_. Whoever thinks, unless belonging to a
past generation, of asking a friend to explain the stray vulgar words
employed by the _London Charivari_?
The _Athenæum_, the most learned and censor-like of all the “weeklies,”
often indulges in a Slang word, when force of expression or a little
humour is desired, or when the writer wishes to say something which
is better said in Slang, or so-called vulgar speech, than in the
authorised language of Dr. Johnson or Lindley Murray. It was but the
other day that a writer in its pages employed an old and favourite
word, used always when we were highly pleased with any article at
school,—STUNNING. _Bartlett_, the compiler of the _Dictionary of
Americanisms_, continually cites the _Athenæum_ as using Slang and
vulgar expressions;—but the magazine the American refers to is not
the excellent literary journal which is so esteemed at the present
day, it was a smaller, and now defunct “weekly.” Many other highly
respectable journals often use Slang words and phrases. The _Times_
(or, in Slang, the THUNDERER) frequently employs unauthorised terms;
and, following a “leader”[53] of the purest and most eloquent English
composition, may sometimes be seen another “article”[53] on a totally
different subject, containing, perhaps, a score or more of exceedingly
questionable words. Among the words and phrases which may be included
under the head of Literary Slang are,—BALAAM, matter kept constantly
in type about monstrous productions of nature, to fill up spaces in
newspapers; BALAAM BOX, the term given in _Blackwood_ to the depository
for rejected articles; and SLATE, to pelt with abuse, or CUT UP in a
review. The Slang names given to newspapers are curious;—thus, the
_Morning Advertiser_ is known as the TAP-TUB, the TIZER, and the GIN
AND GOSPEL GAZETTE. The _Morning Post_ has obtained the suggestive
_soubriquet_ of JEAMES; whilst the _Morning Herald_ has long been
caricatured as MRS. HARRIS, and the _Standard_ as MRS. GAMP.[54]
The _Stage_, of course, has its Slang—“both before and behind the
curtain,” as a journalist remarks. The stage manager is familiarly
termed DADDY; and an actor by profession, or a “professional,”
is called a PRO. A man who is occasionally hired at a trifling
remuneration to come upon the stage as one of a crowd, or when a number
of actors are wanted to give effect, is named a SUP,—an abbreviation of
“supernumerary.” A SURF is a third-rate actor who frequently pursues
another calling; and the band, or orchestra between the pit and the
stage, is generally spoken of as the MENAGERY. A BEN is a benefit;
and SAL is the Slang abbreviation of “salary.” Should no wages be
forthcoming on the Saturday night, it is said that the GHOST DOESN’T
WALK. The travelling or provincial theatricals, who perform in any
large room that can be rented in a country village, are called BARN
STORMERS. A LENGTH is forty-two lines of any dramatic composition; and
a RUN is the good or bad success of a performance. A SADDLE is the
additional charge made by a manager to an actor or actress upon their
benefit night. To MUG UP is to paint one’s face, or arrange the person
to represent a particular character; to CORPSE, or to STICK, is to
balk, or put the other actors out in their parts by forgetting yours.
A performance is spoken of as either a GOOSER or a SCREAMER, should it
be a failure or a great success;—if the latter, it is not infrequently
termed a HIT. To STAR IT is to perform as the centre of attraction,
with none but subordinates and indifferent actors in the same
performance. The expressive term CLAP-TRAP, high-sounding nonsense, is
nothing but an ancient theatrical term, and signified a TRAP to catch a
CLAP by way of applause. “Up amongst the GODS,” refers to being among
the spectators in the gallery,—termed in French Slang PARADIS.
There exists, too, in the great territory of vulgar speech what may
not inappropriately be termed _Civic Slang_. It consists of mercantile
and Stock Exchange terms, and the Slang of good living and wealth. A
turkey hung with sausages is facetiously styled AN ALDERMAN IN CHAINS;
and a half-crown, perhaps from its rotundity, is often termed an
ALDERMAN. A BEAR is a speculator on the Exchange; and a BULL, although
of another order, follows a like profession. There is something very
humorous and applicable in the slang term LAME DUCK, a defaulter in
stock-jobbing speculations. The allusion to his “waddling out of the
Alley,” as they say, is excellent. BREAKING SHINS, in City slang, is
borrowing money; a rotten or unsound scheme is spoken of as FISHY;
“RIGGING the market” means playing tricks with it; and STAG was a
common term during the railway mania for a speculator without capital,
a seller of “scrip” in “Diddlesex Junction” and other equally safe
lines. In Lombard-street a MONKEY is £500, a PLUM £100,000, and a
MARYGOLD is one million sterling. But before I proceed further in a
sketch of the different kinds of Slang, I cannot do better than to
speak here of the extraordinary number of Cant and Slang terms in use
to represent money,—from farthings to bank notes the value of fortunes.
_Her Majesty’s coin, collectively or in the piece, is insulted, by no
less than one hundred and thirty distinct Slang words_, from the humble
BROWN (a halfpenny) to FLIMSIES, or LONG-TAILED ONES (bank notes).
“Money,” it has been well remarked, “the bare, simple word itself, has
a sonorous, significant ring in its sound,” and might have sufficed,
one would have imagined, for all ordinary purposes. But a vulgar or
“fast” society has thought differently, and so we have the Slang
synonymes BEANS, BLUNT, (_i.e._, specie,—not _stiff_ or _rags_, bank
notes), BRADS, BRASS, BUSTLE, COPPERS (copper money, or mixed pence),
CHINK, CHINKERS, CHIPS, CORKS, DIBBS, DINARLY, DIMMOCK, DUST, FEATHERS,
GENT (silver,—from _argent_), HADDOCK (a purse of money), HORSE NAILS,
LOAVER, LOUR (the oldest Cant term for money), MOPUSSES, NEEDFUL,
NOBBINGS (money collected in a hat by street performers), OCHRE (gold),
PEWTER, PALM OIL, QUEEN’S PICTURES, QUIDS, RAGS (bank notes), READY, or
READY GILT, REDGE (gold), RHINO, ROWDY, SHINERS (sovereigns), SKIN (a
purse of money), STIFF (paper, or bill of acceptance), STUFF, STUMPY,
TIN (silver), WEDGE (silver), and YELLOW-BOYS (sovereigns);—just
forty-two vulgar equivalents for the simple word _money_. So attentive
is Slang speech to financial matters, that there are seven terms for
bad, or “bogus” coin (as our friends, the Americans, call it): a CASE
is a counterfeit five-shilling piece; HALF A CASE represents half that
sum; GRAYS are halfpence made double for gambling purposes; QUEER-SOFT
is counterfeit or lead coin; SCHOFEL refers to coated or spurious coin;
SHEEN is bad money of any description; and SINKERS bears the same and
not inappropriate meaning. FLYING THE KITE, or obtaining money on
bills and promissory notes, is a curious allusion to children tossing
about a paper kite; and RAISING THE WIND is a well-known phrase for
procuring money by immediate sale, pledging, or a forced loan. In
winter or in summer any elderly gentleman who may have prospered in
life is pronounced WARM; whilst an equivalent is immediately at hand in
the phrase “his pockets are well LINED.” Each separate piece of money
has its own Slang term, and often half a score of synonymes. To begin
with that extremely humble coin, a _farthing_: first we have FADGE,
then FIDDLER, then GIG, and lastly QUARTEREEN. A _halfpenny_ is a
BROWN or a MADZA SALTEE (Cant), or a MAG, or a POSH, or a RAP,—whence
the popular phrase, “I don’t care a _rap_.” The useful and universal
_penny_ has for Slang equivalents a COPPER, a SALTEE (Cant), and a
WINN. _Two-pence_ is a DEUCE, and _three-pence_ is either a THRUMS or
a THRUPS. _Four-pence_, or a _groat_, may in vulgar speech he termed
a BIT, a FLAG, or a JOEY. _Six-pence_ is well represented in street
talk, and some of the Slangisms are very comical, for instance, BANDY,
BENDER, CRIPPLE, and DOWNER; then we have FYE-BUCK, HALF A HOG, KICK
(thus “two and a kick,” or 2s. 6d.), LORD OF THE MANOR, PIG, POT (the
price of a _pot_ of beer), SNID, SPRAT, SOW’S BABY, TANNER, TESTER,
TIZZY,—sixteen vulgar words to one coin. _Seven-pence_ being an
uncommon amount has only one Slang synonyme, SETTER. The same remark
applies to _eight-pence_ and _nine-pence_, the former being only
represented by OTTER, and the latter by the Cant phrase, NOBBA-SALTEE.
_Ten-pence_ is DACHA-SALTEE, and _eleven-pence_ DACHA-ONE,—both Cant
expressions. _One shilling_ boasts ten Slang equivalents; thus we have
BEONG, BOB, BREAKY-LEG, DEANER, GEN (either from _argent_, silver, or
the back slang), HOG, PEG, STAG, TEVISS, and TWELVER. _Half-a-crown_
is known as an ALDERMAN, HALF A BULL, HALF A TUSHEROON, and a MADZA
CAROON; whilst a _crown_ piece, or _five shillings_, may be called
either a BULL, or a CAROON, or a CARTWHEEL, or a COACHWHEEL, or a
THICK-UN, or a TUSHEROON. The next advance in Slang money is _ten
shillings_, or _half-a-sovereign_, which may be either pronounced
as HALF A BEAN, HALF A COUTER, a MADZA POONA, or HALF A QUID. A
_sovereign_, or _twenty shillings_, is a BEAN, CANARY, COUTER, FOONT,
GOLDFINCH, JAMES, POONA, QUID, a THICK-UN, or a YELLOW-BOY. _Guineas_
are nearly obsolete, yet the terms NEDS, and HALF NEDS, are still in
use. Bank notes are FLIMSIES, LONG-TAILED ONES, or SOFT. A FINUF is a
five-pound note. One hundred pounds (or any other “round sum”) quietly
handed over as payment for services performed is curiously termed “a
COOL hundred.” Thus ends, with several omissions, this long list of
Slang terms for the coins of the realm, which for copiousness, I will
engage to say, is not equalled by any other vulgar or unauthorised
language in Europe.
The antiquity of many of these Slang names is remarkable. WINN was the
vulgar term for a penny in the days of Queen Elizabeth; and TESTER, a
sixpence (formerly a shilling), was the correct name in the days of
Henry the Eighth. The reader, too, will have remarked the frequency of
animals’ names as Slang terms for money. Little, as a modern writer has
remarked, do the persons using these phrases know of their remote and
somewhat classical origin, which may, indeed, be traced to the period
antecedent to that when monarchs monopolised the surface of coined
money with their own image and superscriptions. They are identical with
the very name of money among the early Romans, which was _pecunia_,
from _pecus_, a flock. The collections of coin dealers amply show that
the figure of a HOG was anciently placed on a small silver coin; and
that that of a BULL decorated larger ones of the same metal. These
coins were frequently deeply crossed on the reverse; this was for the
convenience of easily breaking them into two or more pieces, should
the bargain for which they were employed require it, and the parties
making it had no smaller change handy to complete the transaction.
Thus we find that the HALF BULL of the itinerant street seller, or
“traveller,”[55] so far from being a phrase of modern invention, as is
generally supposed, is in point of fact referable to an era extremely
remote. There are many other Cant words directly from a classic source,
as will be seen in the Dictionary.
_Shopkeepers’ Slang_ is, perhaps, the most offensive of all Slang.
It is not a casual eyesore, as newspaper Slang, neither is it an
occasional discomfort to the ear, as in the case of some vulgar
byeword of the street; but it is a perpetual nuisance, and stares you
in the face on tradesmen’s invoices, on labels in the shop-windows,
and placards on the hoardings, in posters against the house next to
your own door—if it happens to be empty for a few weeks,—and in bills
thrust into your hand, as you peaceably walk through the streets. Under
your doors, and down your area, Slang hand-bills are dropped by some
PUSHING tradesman, and for the thousandth time you are called upon to
learn that an ALARMING SACRIFICE is taking place in the next street,
that prices are DOWN AGAIN, that in consequence of some other tradesman
not DRIVING a ROARING TRADE, being in fact SOLD UP, and for the time
being a resident in BURDON’S HOTEL (Whitecross-street Prison), the
PUSHING tradesman wishes to sell out at AWFULLY LOW PRICES, “to the
kind patrons, and numerous customers,” &c. &c., “that have on every
occasion,” &c. &c. In this Slang any occupation or calling is termed
a LINE,—thus the “Building-LINE.” A tailor usurps to himself a good
deal of Slang. Amongst operatives he is called a SNIP, or a STEEL
BAR DRIVER; by the world, a NINTH PART OF A MAN; and by the young
collegian, or “fast” man, a SUFFERER. If he takes army contracts, it
is SANK WORK; if he is a SLOP tailor, he is a SPRINGER UP, and his
garments are BLOWN TOGETHER. Perquisites with him are SPIFFS, and
remnants of cloth, PEAKING. The percentage he allows to his assistants
(or COUNTER JUMPERS) on the sale of old-fashioned articles, is termed
TINGE. If he pays his workmen in goods, or gives them tickets upon
other tradesmen, with whom he shares the profit, he is soon known as
a TOMMY MASTER. If his business succeeds, it TAKES; if neglected, it
becomes SHAKY, and GOES TO POT; if he is deceived by a creditor (a not
by any means unusual circumstance) he is LET IN, or, as it is sometimes
varied, TAKEN IN. I need scarcely remark that any credit he may give is
termed TICK.
_Operatives’ or Workmen’s Slang_, in quality, is but slightly removed
from tradesmen’s Slang. When belonging to the same shop or factory,
they GRAFT there, and are BROTHER CHIPS. They generally dine at SLAP
BANG SHOPS, and are often paid at TOMMY SHOPS. At the nearest PUB, or
public-house, they generally have a SCORE CHALKED UP against them,
which has to be WIPED OFF regularly on the Saturday night. When out
of work, they borrow a word from the flunkey vocabulary, and describe
themselves as being OUT OF COLLAR. They term each other FLINTS and
DUNGS, if they are “society” or “non-society” men. Their salary is
a SCREW, and to be discharged is to GET THE SACK. When they quit
work, they KNOCK OFF; and when out of employ, they ask if any HANDS
are wanted. FAT is the vulgar synonyme for perquisites; ELBOW-GREASE
signifies labour; and SAINT MONDAY is the favourite day of the week.
Names of animals figure plentifully in the workman’s vocabulary; thus
we have GOOSE, a tailor’s smoothing iron; SHEEP’S-FOOT, an iron hammer;
SOW, a receptacle for molten iron, whilst the metal poured from it is
termed PIG. I have often thought that many of the Slang terms for money
originally came from the workshop, thus—BRADS, from the ironmonger;
CHIPS, from the carpenter; DUST, from the goldsmith; FEATHERS, from
the upholsterer; HORSE NAILS, from the farrier; HADDOCK, from the
fishmonger; and TANNER, from the leather-dresser. The subject is
curious. Allow me to call the attention of numismatists to it.
There yet remain several distinct divisions of Slang to be
examined;—the Slang of the _stable_, or _jockey_ Slang; the Slang of
the _prize ring_; the Slang of _servitude_, or _flunkeydom_; vulgar,
or _street_ Slang; the Slang of _softened oaths_; and the Slang of
_intoxication_. I shall only examine the last two. If society, as has
been remarked, is a sham, from the vulgar foundation of commonalty to
the crowning summit of royalty, especially do we perceive the justness
of the remark in the Slang makeshifts for oaths, and sham exclamations
for passion and temper. These apologies for feeling are a disgrace to
our vernacular, although it is some satisfaction to know that they
serve the purpose of reducing the stock of national profanity. “You BE
BLOWED,” or “I’ll BE BLOWED IF,” &c., is an exclamation often heard in
the streets. BLAZES, or “like BLAZES,” came probably from the army.
BLAST, too, although in general vulgar use, may have had a like origin;
so may the phrase, “I wish I may be SHOT, if,” &c. BLOW ME TIGHT, is a
very windy and common exclamation. The same may be said of STRIKE ME
LUCKY, NEVER TRUST ME, and SO HELP ME DAVY; the latter derived from the
truer old phrase, I’LL TAKE MY DAVY ON’T, _i.e._, my _affidavit_, DAVY
being a corruption of that word. BY GOLLY, GOL DARN IT, and SO HELP ME
BOB, are evident shams for profane oaths. NATION is but a softening
of _damnation_; and OD, whether used in OD DRAT IT, or OD’S BLOOD, is
but an apology for the name of the Deity. The Irish phrase, BAD SCRAN
TO YER! is equivalent to wishing a person bad food. “I’m SNIGGERED
if you will,” and “I’m JIGGERED,” are other stupid forms of mild
swearing,—fearful of committing an open profanity, yet slyly nibbling
at the sin. Both DEUCE and DICKENS are vulgar old synonymes for the
devil; and ZOUNDS is an abbreviation of GOD’S WOUNDS,—a very ancient
catholic oath.
In a casual survey of the territory of Slang, it is curious to observe
how well represented are the familiar wants and failings of life.
First, there’s money, with one hundred and twenty Slang terms and
synonymes; then comes drink, from small beer to champagne; and next,
as a very natural sequence, _intoxication_, and fuddlement generally,
with some half a hundred vulgar terms, graduating the scale of
drunkenness from a slight inebriation, to the soaky state of gutterdom
and stretcherdom,—I pray the reader to forgive the expressions. The
Slang synonymes for mild intoxication are certainly very choice,—they
are BEERY, BEMUSED, BOOZY, BOSKY, BUFFY, CORNED, FOGGY, FOU, FRESH,
HAZY, ELEVATED, KISKY, LUSHY, MOONY, MUGGY, MUZZY, ON, SCREWED, STEWED,
TIGHT, and WINEY. A higher or more intense state of beastliness is
represented by the expressions, PODGY, BEARGERED, BLUED, CUT, PRIMED,
LUMPY, PLOUGHED, MUDDLED, OBFUSCATED, SWIPEY, THREE SHEETS IN THE WIND,
and TOP-HEAVY. But the climax of fuddlement is only obtained when the
DISGUISED individual CAN’T SEE A HOLE IN A LADDER, or when he is all
MOPS AND BROOMS, or OFF HIS NUT, or with his MAIN-BRACE WELL SPLICED,
or with the SUN IN HIS EYES, or when he has LAPPED THE GUTTER, and
got the GRAVEL RASH, or on the RAN-TAN, or on the RE-RAW, or when he
is SEWED UP, or regularly SCAMMERED,—then, and not till then, is he
entitled in vulgar society to the title of LUSHINGTON, or recommended
to PUT IN THE PIN.
A DICTIONARY OF MODERN SLANG, CANT, & VULGAR WORDS;
MANY WITH THEIR ETYMOLOGIES TRACED.
A 1, first rate, the very best; “she’s a prime girl she is; she is
A 1.“—_Sam Slick._ The highest classification of ships at Lloyd’s;
common term in the United States, also at Liverpool and other English
seaports. Another, even more intensitive form, is “first-class, letter
A, No. 1.”
ABOUT RIGHT, “to do the thing ABOUT RIGHT,” _i.e._, to do it properly,
soundly, correctly; “he guv it ’im ABOUT RIGHT,” _i.e._, he beat him
severely.
ABRAM-SHAM, or SHAM-ABRAHAM, to feign sickness or distress. From
ABRAM MAN, the _ancient cant_ term for a begging impostor, or one who
pretended to have been mad.—_Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy_, part i.,
sec. 2, vol. i., p. 360. When Abraham Newland was Cashier of the Bank
of England, and signed their notes, it was sung:—
“I have heard people say
That SHAM ABRAHAM you may,
But you mustn’t SHAM ABRAHAM Newland.”
ABSQUATULATE, to run away, or abscond; a hybrid _American_ expression,
from the Latin _ab_, and “squat,” to settle.
ADAM’S ALE, water.—_English._ The Scotch term is ADAM’S WINE.
AGGERAWATORS (corruption of _Aggravators_), the greasy locks of hair in
vogue among costermongers and other street folk, worn twisted from the
temple back towards the ear. They are also, from a supposed resemblance
in form, termed NEWGATE KNOCKERS, which see.—_Sala’s Gas-light_, &c.
ALDERMAN, a half-crown—possibly from its rotundity.
ALDERMAN, a turkey.
ALDERMAN IN CHAINS, a turkey hung with sausages.
ALL OF A HUGH! all on one side, or with a thump; the word HUGH being
pronounced with a grunt.—_Suffolk._
ALL MY EYE, answer of astonishment to an improbable story; ALL MY EYE
AND BETTY MARTIN, a vulgar phrase with similar meaning, said to be
the commencement of a Popish prayer to St. Martin, “Oh mihi, beate
Martine,” and fallen into discredit at the Reformation.
ALL-OVERISH, neither sick nor well, the premonitory symptoms of illness.
ALL-ROUNDERS, the fashionable shirt collars of the present time worn
meeting in front.
ALL-SERENE, an ejaculation of acquiescence.
ALLS, tap-droppings, refuse spirits sold at a cheap rate in
gin-palaces.—_See_ LOVEAGE.
ALL-THERE, in strict fashion, first-rate, “up to the mark;” a vulgar
person would speak of a spruce, showily-dressed female as being
ALL-THERE. An artizan would use the same phrase to express the
capabilities of a skilful fellow workman.
ALL TO PIECES, utterly, excessively; “he beat him ALL TO PIECES,”
_i.e._, excelled or surpassed him exceedingly.
ALL TO SMASH, or GONE TO PIECES, bankrupt, or smashed to
pieces.—_Somersetshire._
ALMIGHTY DOLLAR, an _American_ expression for the “power of money,”
first introduced by Washington Irving in 1837.
AN’T, or AÏN’T, the vulgar abbreviation of “am not,” or “are not.”
ANOINTING, a good beating.
ANY HOW, in any way, or at any rate, bad; “he went on ANY HOW,” _i.e._,
badly or indifferently.
APPLE CART, “down with his APPLE CART,” _i.e._, upset him.—_North._
APPLE PIE ORDER, in exact or very nice order.
AREA-SNEAK, a boy thief who commits depredations upon kitchens and
cellars.—_See_ CROW.
ARGOT, a term used amongst London thieves for their secret or cant
language. _French_ term for slang.
ARTICLE, a man or boy, derisive term.
ARY, corruption of ever a, e’er a; ARY ONE, e’er a one.
ATTACK, to carve, or commence operations on; “ATTACK that beef, and
oblige!”
ATTIC, the head; “queer in the ATTIC,” intoxicated.—_Pugilistic._
AUNT-SALLY, a favourite game on race-courses and at fairs, consisting
of a wooden head mounted on a stick, firmly fixed in the ground; in
the nose of which, or rather in that part of the facial arrangement of
AUNT SALLY which is generally considered incomplete without a nasal
projection, a tobacco pipe is inserted. The fun consists in standing at
a distance and demolishing AUNT SALLY’S pipe-clay projection with short
bludgeons, very similar to the half of a broom-handle. The Duke of
Beaufort is a “crack hand” at smashing pipe noses, and his performances
two years ago on Brighton race-course are yet fresh in remembrance. The
noble Duke, in the summer months, frequently drives the old London and
Brighton four-horse mail coach, “Age”—a whim singular enough now, but
common forty years ago.
AUTUMN, a slang term for an execution by hanging. When the drop was
introduced instead of the old gallows, cart, and ladder, and a man was
for the first time “turned-off” in the present fashion, the mob were
so pleased with the invention that they spoke of the operation as at
AUTUMN, or the FALL OF THE LEAF (_sc._ the drop), with the man about to
be hung.
AVAST, a sailor’s phrase for stop, shut up, go away,—apparently
connected with the _old cant_, BYNGE A WASTE.
AWAKE, or FLY, knowing, thoroughly understanding, not ignorant of. The
phrase WIDE AWAKE carries the same meaning in ordinary conversation.
AWFUL (or, with the Cockneys, ORFUL), a senseless expletive, used to
intensify a description of anything good or bad; “what an AWFUL fine
woman!” _i.e._, how handsome, or showy!
AXE, to ask.—_Saxon_, ACSIAN.
BABES, the lowest order of KNOCK-OUTS (which see), who are prevailed
upon not to give opposing biddings at auctions, in consideration of
their receiving a small sum (from one shilling to half-a-crown), and a
certain quantity of beer. BABES exist in Baltimore, U.S., where they
are known as blackguards and “rowdies.”
BACK JUMP, a back window.
BACK SLANG IT, to go out the back way.
BACK OUT, to retreat from a difficulty; the reverse of GO AHEAD.
Metaphor borrowed from the stables.
BACON, “to save one’s BACON,” to escape.
BAD, “to go to the BAD,” to deteriorate in character, be ruined.
_Virgil_ has an exactly similar phrase, _in pejus ruere_.
BAGMAN, a commercial traveller.
BAGS, trowsers. Trowsers of an extensive pattern, or exaggerated
fashionable cut, have lately been termed HOWLING-BAGS, but only when
the style has been very “_loud_.” The word is probably an abbreviation
for b—mbags. “To have the BAGS off,” to be of age and one’s own master,
to have plenty of money.
BAKE, “he’s only HALF BAKED,” _i.e._, soft, inexperienced.
BAKER’S DOZEN. This consists of thirteen or fourteen; the surplus
number, called the _inbread_, being thrown in for fear of incurring the
penalty for short weight. To “give a man a BAKER’S DOZEN,” in a slang
sense, means to give him an extra good beating or pummelling.
BALAAM, printers’ slang for matter kept in type about monstrous
productions of nature, &c., to fill up spaces in newspapers that
would otherwise be vacant. The term BALAAM-BOX has long been used in
_Blackwood_ as the name of the depository for rejected articles.
BALL, prison allowance, viz., six ounces of meat.
BALLYRAG, to scold vehemently, to swindle one out of his money by
intimidation and sheer abuse, as alleged in a late cab case (_Evans_ v.
_Robinson_).
BALMY, insane.
BAMBOOZLE, to deceive, make fun of, or cheat a person; abbreviated
to BAM, which is used also as a substantive, a deception, a sham, a
“sell.” _Swift_ says BAMBOOZLE was invented by a nobleman in the reign
of Charles II.; but this I conceive to be an error. The probability is
that a nobleman first _used_ it in polite society. The term is derived
from the _Gipseys_.
BANDED, hungry.
BANDY, or CRIPPLE, a sixpence, so called from this coin being generally
bent or crooked; old term for flimsy or bad cloth, temp. Q. Elizabeth.
BANG, to excel or surpass; BANGING, great or thumping.
BANG-UP, first-rate.
BANTLING, a child; stated in _Bacchus and Venus_, 1737, and by _Grose_,
to be a cant term.
BANYAN-DAY, a day on which no meat is served out for rations; probably
derived from the BANIANS, a Hindoo caste, who abstain from animal
food.—_Sea._
BAR, or BARRING, excepting; in common use in the betting-ring; “I bet
against the field BAR two.” The Irish use of BARRIN’ is very similar.
BARKER, a man employed to cry at the doors of “gaffs,” shows, and
puffing shops, to entice people inside.
BARKING IRONS, pistols.
BARNACLES, a pair of spectacles; corruption of BINOCULI?
BARNEY, a LARK, SPREE, rough enjoyment; “get up a BARNEY,” to have a
“lark.”
BARNEY, a mob, a crowd.
BARN-STORMERS, theatrical performers who travel the country and act
in barns, selecting short and frantic pieces to suit the rustic
taste.—_Theatrical._
BARRIKIN, jargon, speech, or discourse; “we can’t tumble to that
BARRIKIN,” _i.e._, we don’t understand what he says. _Miege_ calls it
“a sort of stuff.”
BASH, to beat, thrash; “BASHING a donna,” beating a woman; originally a
provincial word, and chiefly applied to the practice of beating walnut
trees, when in bud, with long poles, to increase their productiveness.
Hence the West country proverb—
“A woman, a whelp, and a walnut tree,
The more you BASH ’em, the better they be.”
BAT, “on his own BAT,” on his own account.—_See_ HOOK.
BATS, a pair of bad boots.
BATTER, “on the BATTER,” literally “on the streets,” or given up to
roistering and debauchery.
BATTLES, the students’ term at Oxford for rations. At Cambridge,
COMMONS.
BAWDYKEN, a brothel.—_See_ KEN.
BAZAAR, a shop or counter. _Gipsey and Hindoo_, a market.
BEAK, a magistrate, judge, or policeman; “baffling the BEAK,” to get
remanded. _Ancient cant_, BECK. _Saxon_, BEAG, a necklace or gold
collar—emblem of authority. Sir John Fielding was called the BLIND-BEAK
in the last century Query, if connected with the Italian BECCO, which
means a (bird’s) _beak_, and also a _blockhead_.
BEAKER-HUNTER, a stealer of poultry.
BEANS, money; “a haddock of BEANS,” a purse of money; formerly BEAN
meant a guinea; _French_, BIENS, property; also used as a synonyme for
BRICK, which see.
BEAR, one who contracts to deliver or sell a certain quantity of stock
in the public funds on a forthcoming day at a stated place, but who
does not possess it, trusting to a decline in public securities to
enable him to fulfil the agreement and realise a profit.—_See_ BULL.
Both words are slang terms on the Stock Exchange, and are frequently
used in the business columns of newspapers.
“He who sells that of which he is not possessed is proverbially said
to sell the skin before he has caught the BEAR. It was the practice
of stock-jobbers, in the year 1720, to enter into a contract for
transferring South Sea Stock at a future time for a certain price;
but he who contracted to sell had frequently no stock to transfer,
nor did he who bought intend to receive any in consequence of his
bargain; the seller was, therefore, called a BEAR, in allusion to the
proverb, and the buyer a BULL, perhaps only as a similar distinction.
The contract was merely a wager, to be determined by the rise or fall
of stock; if it rose, the seller paid the difference to the buyer,
proportioned to the sum determined by the same computation to the
seller.”—_Dr. Warton on Pope._
BEARGERED, to be drunk.
BEAT, or BEAT-HOLLOW, to surpass or excel.
BEAT, the allotted range traversed by a policeman on duty.
BEAT-OUT, DEAD-BEAT, tired or fagged.
BEATER-CASES, boots: _Nearly obsolete_.
BEAVER, old street term for a hat; GOSS is the modern word, BEAVER,
except in the country, having fallen into disuse.
BE-BLOWED, a windy exclamation equivalent to an oath.—_See_ BLOW-ME.
BED-POST, “in the twinkling of a BED-POST,” in a moment, or very
quickly. Originally BED-STAFF, a stick placed vertically in the frame
of a bed to keep the bedding in its place.—_Shadwell’s Virtuoso_, 1676,
act i., scene 1. This was used sometimes as a defensive weapon.
BEE, “to have a BEE in one’s bonnet,” _i.e._, to be not exactly sane.
BEERY, intoxicated, or fuddled with beer.
BEESWAX, poor soft cheese.
BEETLE-CRUSHERS, or SQUASHERS, large flat feet.
BELCHER, a kind of handkerchief.—_See_ BILLY.
BELL, a song.
BELLOWS, the lungs.
BELLOWSED, or LAGGED, transported.
BELLOWS-TO-MEND, out of breath.
BELLY-TIMBER, food, or “grub.”
BELLY-VENGEANCE, small sour beer, apt to cause gastralgia.
BEMUSE, to fuddle one’s self with drink, “BEMUSING himself with beer,”
&c.—_Sala’s Gas-light and Day-light_, p. 308.
BEN, a benefit.—_Theatrical._
BEND, “that’s above my BEND,” _i.e._, beyond my power, too expensive,
or too difficult for me to perform.
BENDER, a sixpence,—from its liability to bend.
BENDER, the arm; “over the BENDER,” synonymous with “over the
left.”—_See_ OVER. Also an ironical exclamation similar to WALKER.
BENE, good.—_Ancient cant_; BENAR was the comparative.—_See_ BONE.
_Latin._
BENJAMIN, a coat. Formerly termed a JOSEPH, in allusion, perhaps, to
Joseph’s coat of many colours.—_See_ UPPER-BENJAMIN.
BENJY, a waistcoat.
BEONG, a shilling.—_See_ SALTEE.
BESTER, a low betting cheat.
BESTING, excelling, cheating. BESTED, taken in, or defrauded.
BETTER, more; “how far is it to town?” “oh, BETTER ’n a mile.”—_Saxon_
and _Old English_, now a vulgarism.
BETTY, a skeleton key, or picklock.—_Old cant._
B. FLATS, bugs.
BIBLE CARRIER, a person who sells songs without singing them.
BIG, “to look BIG,” to assume an inflated dress, or manner; “to talk
BIG,” _i.e._, boastingly, or with an “extensive” air.
BIG-HOUSE, the work-house.
BILBO, a sword; abbrev. of BILBOA blade. Spanish swords were anciently
very celebrated, especially those of Toledo, Bilboa, &c.
BILK, a cheat, or a swindler. Formerly in frequent use, now confined to
the streets, where it is very general. _Gothic_, BILAICAN.
BILK, to defraud, or obtain goods, &c. without paying for them; “to
BILK the schoolmaster,” to get information or experience without paying
for it.
BILLINGSGATE (when applied to speech), foul and coarse language.
Not many years since, one of the London notorieties was to hear the
fishwomen at Billingsgate abuse each other. The anecdote of Dr. Johnson
and the Billingsgate virago is well known.
BILLY, a silk pocket handkerchief.—_Scotch._—See WIPE.
⁂ A list of the slang terms descriptive of the various patterns of
handkerchiefs, pocket and neck, is here subjoined:—
BELCHER, close striped pattern, yellow silk, and intermixed with
white and a little black; named from the pugilist, Jim Belcher.
BIRD’S EYE WIPE, diamond spots.
BLOOD-RED FANCY, red.
BLUE BILLY, blue ground with white spots.
CREAM FANCY, any pattern on a white ground.
GREEN KING’S MAN, any pattern on a green ground.
RANDAL’S MAN, green, with white spots; named after Jack Randal,
pugilist.
WATER’S MAN, sky coloured.
YELLOW FANCY, yellow, with white spots.
YELLOW MAN, all yellow.
BILLY-BARLOW, a street clown; sometimes termed a JIM CROW, or
SALTIMBANCO,—so called from the hero of a slang song.—_Bulwer’s Paul
Clifford._
BILLY-HUNTING, buying old metal.
BIRD-CAGE, a four-wheeled cab.
BIT, fourpence; in America 12½ cents is called a BIT, and a defaced 20
cent piece is termed a LONG BIT. A BIT is the smallest coin in Jamaica,
equal to 6d.
BIT, a purse, or any sum of money.
BIT-FAKER, or TURNER OUT, a coiner of bad money.
BITCH, tea; “a BITCH party,” a tea-drinking.—_University._
BITE, a cheat; “a Yorkshire BITE,” a cheating fellow from that
county.—_North_; also _old slang_, used by _Pope_. Swift says it
originated with a nobleman in his day.
BITE, to cheat; “to be BITTEN,” to be taken in or imposed upon.
Originally a Gipsey term.—_See Bacchus and Venus._
BIVVY, or GATTER, beer; “shant of BIVVY,” a pot, or quart of beer. In
Suffolk, the afternoon refreshment of reapers is called BEVER. It is
also an old English term.
“He is none of those same ordinary eaters, that will devour three
breakfasts, and as many dinners, without any prejudice to their
BEVERS, drinkings, or suppers.”—_Beaumont and Fletcher’s Woman Hater_
1–3.
Both words are probably from the Italian, _bevere_, _bere_. Latin,
_bibere_. English, _beverage_.
BLACK AND WHITE, handwriting.
BLACKBERRY-SWAGGER, a person who hawks tapes, boot laces, &c.
BLACK-LEG, a rascal, swindler, or card cheat.
BLACK-SHEEP, a “bad lot,” “_mauvais sujet_;” also a workman who refuses
to join in a strike.
BLACK-STRAP, port wine.
BLADE, a man—in ancient times the term for a soldier; “knowing BLADE,”
a wide awake, sharp, or cunning man.
BLACKGUARD, a low, or dirty fellow.
“A cant word amongst the vulgar, by which is implied a dirty fellow
of the meanest kind, Dr. Johnson says, and he cites only the modern
authority of Swift. But the introduction of this word into our
language belongs not to the vulgar, and is more than a century prior
to the time of Swift. Mr. Malone agrees with me in exhibiting the
two first of the following examples. The _black-guard_ is evidently
designed to imply a fit attendant on the devil. Mr. Gifford, however,
in his late edition of Ben Jonson’s works, assigns an origin of the
name different from what the old examples which I have cited seem
to countenance. It has been formed, he says, from those ‘mean and
dirty dependants, in great houses, who were selected to carry coals
to the kitchen, halls, &c. To this smutty regiment, who attended
the progresses, and rode in the carts with the pots and kettles,
which, with every other article of furniture, were then moved from
palace to palace, the people, in derision, gave the name of _black
guards_; a term since become sufficiently familiar, and never
properly explained.’—Ben Jonson, ii. 169, vii. 250”—_Todd’s Johnson’s
Dictionary._
BLARNEY, flattery, exaggeration.—_Hibernicism._
BLAST, to curse.
BLAZES, “like BLAZES,” furious or desperate, a low comparison.
BLEST, a vow; “BLEST if I’ll do it,” _i.e._, I am determined not to do
it; euphemism for CURST.
BLEED, to victimise, or extract money from a person, to spunge on, to
make suffer vindictively.
BLEW, or BLOW, to inform, or peach.
BLEWED, got rid of, disposed of, spent; “I BLEWED all my blunt last
night,” I spent all my money.
BLIND, a pretence, or make believe.
BLIND-HOOKEY, a gambling game at cards.
BLINKER, a blackened eye.—_Norwich slang._
BLINK FENCER, a person who sells spectacles.
BLOAK, or BLOKE, a man; “the BLOAK with a jasey,” the man with a wig,
_i.e._, the Judge. _Gipsey_ and _Hindoo_, LOKE. _North_, BLOACHER, any
large animal.
BLOB (from BLAB), to talk. Beggars are of two kinds,—those who SCREEVE
(introduce themselves with a FAKEMENT, or false document), and those
who BLOB, or state their case in their own truly “unvarnished” language.
BLOCK, the head.
BLOCK ORNAMENTS, the small dark coloured pieces of meat exposed on the
cheap butchers’ blocks or counters,—debateable points to all the sharp
visaged argumentative old women in low neighbourhoods.
BLOOD, a fast or high-mettled man. Nearly obsolete in the sense in
which it was used in George the Fourth’s time.
BLOOD-RED FANCY, a kind of handkerchief worn by pugilists and
frequenters of prize fights.—_See_ BILLY.
BLOODY-JEMMY, a sheep’s head.—_See_ SANGUINARY JAMES.
BLOW, to expose, or inform; “BLOW the gaff,” to inform against a
person. In _America_, to BLOW is slang for to taunt.
BLOW A CLOUD, to smoke a cigar or pipe—a phrase in use two centuries
ago.
BLOW ME, or BLOW ME TIGHT, a vow, a ridiculous and unmeaning
ejaculation, inferring an appeal to the ejaculator; “I’m BLOWED if you
will” is a common expression among the lower orders; “BLOW ME UP” was
the term a century ago.—_See Parker’s Adventures_, 1781.
BLOW OUT, or TUCK IN, a feast.
BLOW UP, to make a noise, or scold; formerly a cant expression used
amongst thieves, now a recognised and respectable phrase. BLOWING UP, a
jobation, a scolding.
BLOWEN, a showy or flaunting prostitute, a thief’s paramour. In
_Wilts_, a BLOWEN is a blossom. _Germ._ BLUHEN, to bloom.
“O du _blühende_ Mädchen viel schöne Willkomm!”—_German Song._
Possibly, however, the street term BLOWEN may mean one whose reputation
has been BLOWN UPON, or damaged.
BLOWER, a girl; a contemptuous name in opposition to JOMER.
BLUBBER, to cry in a childish manner.—_Ancient._
BLUDGERS, low thieves, who use violence.
BLUE, a policeman; “disguised in BLUE and liquor.”—_Boots at the Swan._
BLUE, or BLEW, to pawn or pledge.
BLUE, confounded or surprised; “to look BLUE,” to be astonished or
disappointed.
BLUE BILLY, the handkerchief (blue ground with white spots) worn and
used at prize fights. Before a SET TO, it is common to take it from the
neck and tie it round the leg as a garter, or round the waist, to “keep
in the wind.” Also, the refuse ammoniacal lime from gas factories.
BLUE BLANKET, a rough over coat made of coarse pilot cloth.
BLUE-BOTTLE, a policeman. It is singular that this well known slang
term for a London constable should have been used by Shakespere. In
part ii. of King Henry IV., act v., scene 4, Doll Tearsheet calls the
beadle, who is dragging her in, a “thin man in a censer, a BLUE-BOTTLE
rogue.”
BLUED, or BLEWED, tipsey or drunk.
BLUE DEVILS, the apparitions supposed to be seen by habitual drunkards.
BLUE MOON, an unlimited period.
BLUE MURDER, a desperate or alarming cry. _French_, MORT-BLEU.
BLUE RUIN, gin.
BLUE-PIGEON FLYERS, journeymen plumbers, glaziers, and others, who,
under the plea of repairing houses, strip off the lead, and make way
with it. Sometimes they get off with it by wrapping it round their
bodies.
BLUES, a fit of despondency.—_See_ BLUE DEVILS.
BLUEY, lead. _German_, BLEI.
BLUFF, an excuse.
BLUFF, to turn aside, stop, or excuse.
BLUNT, money. It has been said that this term is from the _French_
BLOND, sandy or golden colour, and that a parallel may be found in
BROWN or BROWNS, the slang for half-pence. The etymology seems far
fetched, however.
BLURT OUT, to speak from impulse, and without reflection.—_Shakespere._
BOB, a shilling. Formerly BOBSTICK, which may have been the original.
BOB, “s’help my BOB,” a street oath, equivalent to “so help me God.”
Other words are used in street language for a similarly evasive
purpose, _i.e._, CAT, GREENS, TATUR, &c., all equally profane and
disgusting.
BOBBISH, very well, clever, spruce; “how are you doing?” “oh! pretty
BOBBISH.”—_Old._
BOBBY, a policeman. Both BOBBY and PEELER were nicknames given to the
new police, in allusion to the christian and surnames of the late _Sir
Robert Peel_, who was the prime mover in effecting their introduction
and improvement. The term BOBBY is, however, older than the _Saturday
Reviewer_, in his childish and petulant remarks, imagines. The official
square-keeper, who is always armed with a cane to drive away idle
and disorderly urchins, has, time out of mind, been called by the
said urchins, BOBBY _the Beadle_. BOBBY is also, I may remark, an
old English word for striking or hitting, a quality not unknown to
policemen.—_See Halliwell’s Dictionary._
BODMINTON, blood.—_Pugilistic._
BODY-SNATCHERS, bailiffs and runners: SNATCH, the trick by which the
bailiff captures the delinquent.
BODY-SNATCHERS, cat stealers.
BOG or BOG-HOUSE, a water-closet.—_School term._ In the Inns of Court,
I am informed, this term is very common.
BOG-TROTTER, satirical name for an Irishman.—_Miege._ _Camden_,
however, speaking of the “debateable land” on the borders of England
and Scotland, says “both these dales breed notable BOG-TROTTERS.”
BOILERS, the slang name given to the New Kensington Museum and School
of Art, in allusion to the peculiar form of the buildings, and the fact
of their being mainly composed of, and covered with, sheet iron.—_See_
PEPPER-BOXES.
BOLT, to run away, decamp, or abscond.
BOLT, to swallow without chewing.
BONE, good, excellent. ◇ the vagabond’s hieroglyphic for BONE, or good,
chalked by them on houses and street corners, as a hint to succeeding
beggars. _French_, BON.
BONE, to steal or pilfer. BONED, seized, apprehended.—_Old._
BONE-GRUBBERS, persons who hunt dust-holes, gutters, and all likely
spots for refuse bones, which they sell at the rag-shops, or to the
bone-grinders.
BONE-PICKER, a footman.
BONES, dice; also called ST. HUGH’S BONES.
BONES, “he made no BONES of it,” he did not hesitate, _i.e._, undertook
and finished the work without difficulty, “found no BONES in the
jelly.”—_Ancient, vide Cotgrave._
BONNET, a gambling cheat. “A man who sits at a gaming-table, and
appears to be playing against the table; when a stranger enters, the
BONNET generally wins.”—_Times_, Nov. 17, 1856. Also, a pretence, or
make-believe, a sham bidder at auctions.
BONNET, to strike a man’s cap or hat over his eyes and nose.
BONNETTER, one who induces another to gamble.
BOOK, an arrangement of bets for and against, chronicled in a
pocket-book made for that purpose; “making a BOOK upon it,” common
phrase to denote the general arrangement of a person’s bets on a race.
“That does not suit my BOOK,” _i.e._, does not accord with my other
arrangements. _Shakespere_ uses BOOK in the sense of “a paper of
conditions.”
BOOM, “to tip one’s BOOM off,” to be off, or start in a certain
direction.—_Sea._
BOOKED, caught, fixed, disposed of.—Term in _Book-keeping_.
BOOZE, drink. _Ancient cant_, BOWSE.
BOOZE, to drink, or more properly, to use another slang term, to
“lush,” viz, to drink continually, until drunk, or nearly so. The term
is an old one. Harman, in Queen Elizabeth’s days, speaks of “BOUSING
(or boozing) and belly-cheere.” The term was good English in the
fourteenth century, and comes from the Dutch, BUYZEN, to tipple.
BOOZE, or SUCK-CASA, a public-house.
BOOZING-KEN, a beer-shop, a low public house.—_Ancient._
BOOZY, intoxicated or fuddled.
BORE, a troublesome friend or acquaintance, a nuisance, anything which
wearies or annoys. The _Gradus ad Cantabrigiam_ suggests the derivation
of BORE from the _Greek_, Βαρος, a burden. _Shakespere_ uses it, King
Henry VIII., i., 1—
“—— at this instant
He BORES me with some trick.”
_Grose_ speaks of this word as being much in fashion about the year
1780–81, and states that it vanished of a sudden, without leaving a
trace behind. Not so, burly Grose, the term is still in favour, and
is as piquant and expressive as ever. Of the modern sense of the word
BORE, the Prince Consort made an amusing and effective use in his
masterly address to the British Association, at Aberdeen, September 14,
1859. He said (as reported by the _Times_):—
“I will not weary you by further examples, with which most of
you are better acquainted than I am myself but merely express my
satisfaction that there should exist bodies of men who will bring the
well-considered and understood wants of science before the public and
the Government, who will even hand round the begging-box, and expose
themselves to refusals and rebuffs, to which all beggars all liable,
with the certainty besides of being considered great BORES. Please
to recollect that this species of “bore” is a most useful animal,
well adapted for the ends for which nature intended him. He alone, by
constantly returning to the charge, and repeating the same truths and
the same requests, succeeds in awakening attention to the cause which
he advocates, and obtains that hearing which is granted him at last
for self-protection, as the minor evil compared to his importunity,
but which is requisite to make his cause understood.”
BOSH, nonsense, stupidity.—_Gipsey_ and _Persian_. Also pure _Turkish_,
BOSH LAKERDI, empty talk. A person, in the _Saturday Review_, has
stated that BOSH is coeval with Morier’s novel, _Hadji Babi_, which was
published in 1828; but this is a blunder. The term was used in this
country as early as 1760, and may be found in the _Student_, vol. ii.,
p. 217.
BOSH, a fiddle.
BOSH-FAKER, a violin player.
BOS-KEN, a farm-house. _Ancient._—_See_ KEN.
BOSKY, inebriated—_Household Words_, No. 183.
BOSMAN, a farmer; “faking a BOSMAN on the main toby,” robbing a farmer
on the highway. BOSS, a master.—_American._ Both terms from the
_Dutch_, BOSCH-MAN, one who lives in the woods; otherwise _Boschjeman_
or _Bushman_.
BOSS-EYED, a person with one eye, or rather with one eye injured.
BOTHER, to teaze, to annoy.
BOTHER (from the _Hibernicism_ POTHER), trouble, or annoyance. _Grose_
has a singular derivation, BOTHER, or BOTH-EARED, from two persons
talking at the same time, or to both ears. BLOTHER, an old word,
signifying to chatter idly.—_See Halliwell._
BOTHERATION! trouble, annoyance; “BOTHERATION to it,” confound it, or
deuce take it, an exclamation when irritated.
BOTTLE-HOLDER, an assistant to a “Second,”—_Pugilistic_; an abettor;
also, the bridegroom’s man at a wedding.
BOTTY, conceited, swaggering.
BOUNCE, impudence.
BOUNCE, a showy swindler.
BOUNCE, to boast, cheat, or bully.—_Old cant._
BOUNCER, a person who steals whilst bargaining with a tradesman; a lie.
BOUNDER, a four-wheel cab. _Lucus a non lucendo?_
BOUNETTER, a fortune-telling cheat.—_Gipsey._
BOW-CATCHERS, or KISS-CURLS, small curls twisted on the cheeks or
temples of young—and often old—girls, adhering to the face as if gummed
or pasted. Evidently a corruption of BEAU-CATCHERS. In old times these
were called _love-locks_, when they were the marks at which all the
puritan and ranting preachers levelled their pulpit pop-guns, loaded
with sharp and virulent abuse. Hall and Prynne looked upon all women as
strumpets who dared to let the hair depart from a straight line upon
their cheeks. The French prettily term them _accroche-cœurs_, whilst in
the United States they are plainly and unpleasantly called SPIT-CURLS.
Bartlett says:—“SPIT CURL, a detached lock of hair curled upon the
temple; probably from having been at first plastered into shape by the
saliva. It is now understood that the mucilage of quince seed is used
by the ladies for this purpose.”
“You may prate of your lips, and your teeth of pearl,
And your eyes so brightly flashing;
My song shall be of that SALIVA CURL
Which threatens my heart to smash in.”
_Boston Transcript_, October 30, 1858.
When men twist the hair on each side of their faces into ropes they are
sometimes called BELL-ROPES, as being wherewith to _draw the belles_.
Whether BELL-ROPES or BOW-CATCHERS, it is singular they should form
part of the prisoner’s paraphernalia, and that a jaunty little kiss-me
quick curl should, of all things in the world, ornament a gaol dock;
yet such was formerly the case. Hunt, the murderer of Weare, on his
trial, we are informed by the Athenæum, appeared at the bar with a
highly pomatumed love-lock sticking tight to his forehead. Young
ladies, think of this!
BOWL-OUT, to put out of the game, to remove out of one’s way, to
detect.—_Cricketing term._
BOWLAS, round tarts made of sugar, apple, and bread, sold in the
streets.
BOWLES, shoes.
BOX-HARRY, a term with bagmen or commercial travellers, implying
dinner and tea at one meal; also dining with Humphrey, _i.e._, going
without.—_Lincolnshire._
BRACE UP, to pawn stolen goods.
BRACELETS, handcuffs.
BRADS, money. Properly, a small kind of nails used by cobblers.—Compare
HORSE NAILS.
BRAD-FAKING, playing at cards.
BRAGGADOCIO, three months’ imprisonment as a reputed thief or old
offender,—sometimes termed a DOSE, or a DOLLOP.—_Household Words_, vol.
i., p. 579.
BRAN-NEW, quite new. Properly, _Brent_, BRAND, or _Fire-new_, _i.e._,
fresh from the anvil.
BRASS, money.
BREAD-BASKET, DUMPLING DEPOT, VICTUALLING OFFICE, &c., are terms given
by the “_Fancy_” to the digestive organ.
BREAK-DOWN, a jovial, social gathering, a FLARE UP; in Ireland, a
wedding.
BREAKING SHINS, borrowing money.
BREAKY-LEG, a shilling.
BREAKY-LEG, strong drink; “he’s been to Bungay fair, and BROKE BOTH
HIS LEGS,” _i.e._, got drunk. In the ancient Egyptian language the
determinative character in the hieroglyphic verb “to be drunk,” has
the significant form of the leg of a man being amputated. [Egyptian
hieroglyphs]
BREECHED, or TO HAVE THE BAGS OFF, to have plenty of money; “to be well
BREECHED,” to be in good circumstances.
BREECHES, “to wear the BREECHES,” said of a wife who usurps the
husband’s prerogative.
BREEKS, breeches.—_Scotch_, now common.
BRICK, a “jolly good fellow;” “a regular BRICK,” a staunch fellow.
“I bonnetted Whewell, when we gave the Rads their gruel,
And taught them to eschew all their addresses to the Queen.
If again they try it on, why to floor them I’ll make one,
Spite of Peeler or of Don, like a BRICK and a _Bean_.”
_The Jolly Bachelors_, Cambridge, 1840.
Said to be derived from an expression of Aristotle, τετραγωνος ἀνηρ.
BRIEF, a pawnbroker’s duplicate.
BRISKET BEATER, a Roman Catholic.
BROADS, cards. BROADSMAN, a card sharper.
BROAD AND SHALLOW, an epithet applied to the so-called “Broad Church,”
in contradistinction to the “High” and “Low” Church.—_See_ HIGH AND DRY.
BROAD-FENCER, card seller at races.
BROSIER, a bankrupt.—_Cheshire._ BROSIER-MY-DAME, school term, implying
a clearing of the housekeeper’s larder of provisions, in revenge for
stinginess.—_Eton._
BROTHER-CHIP, fellow carpenter. Also, BROTHER-WHIP, a fellow coachman;
and BROTHER-BLADE, of the same occupation or calling—originally a
fellow soldier.
BROWN, a halfpenny.—_See_ BLUNT.
BROWN, “to do BROWN,” to do well or completely (in allusion to
roasting); “doing it BROWN,” prolonging the frolic, or exceeding sober
bounds; “DONE BROWN,” taken in, deceived, or surprised.
BROWN BESS, the old Government regulation musket.
BROWN PAPERMEN, low gamblers.
BROWN SALVE, a token of surprise at what is heard, and at the same time
means “I understand you.”
BROWN-STUDY, a reverie. Very common even in educated society, but
hardly admissible in writing, and therefore must be considered a
vulgarism. It is derived, by a writer in _Notes and Queries_, from
BROW study, from the old German BRAUN, or AUG-BRAUN, an eye-brow.—_Ben
Jonson._
BROWN-TO, to understand, to comprehend.—_American._
BRUISER, a fighting man, a pugilist.—_Pugilistic._ _Shakespere_ uses
the word BRUISING in a similar sense.
BRUMS, counterfeit coins. _Nearly obsolete._ Corruption of _Brummagem_
(Bromwicham), the ancient name of _Birmingham_, the great emporium of
plated goods and imitation jewellery.
BRUSH, or BRUSH-OFF, to run away, or move on.—_Old cant._
BUB, drink of any kind.—_See_ GRUB. _Middleton_, the dramatist,
mentions BUBBER, a great drinker.
BUB, a teat, woman’s breast.
BUCK, a gay or smart man, a cuckold.
BUCKHORSE, a smart blow or box on the ear; derived from the name of a
celebrated “bruiser” of that name.
BUCKLE, to bend; “I can’t BUCKLE to that,” I don’t understand it; to
yield or give in to a person. _Shakespere_ uses the word in the latter
sense, Henry IV., i. 1; and _Halliwell_ says that “the commentators
do not supply another example.” How strange that in our own streets
the term should be used every day! Stop the first costermonger, and he
will soon inform you the various meanings of BUCKLE.—_See Notes and
Queries_, vols. vii., viii., and ix.
BUCKLE-TO, to bend to one’s work, to begin at once, and with great
energy.
BUDGE, to move, to inform, to SPLIT, or tell tales.
BUFF, to swear to, or accuse; to SPLIT, or peach upon. _Old_ word for
boasting, 1582.
BUFF, the bare skin; “stripped to the BUFF.”
BUFFER, a dog. Their skins were formerly in great request—hence the
term, BUFF meaning in old English _to skin_. It is still used in the
ring, BUFFED meaning stripped to the skin. In Irish cant, BUFFER is a
_boxer_. The BUFFER of a railway carriage doubtless received its very
appropriate name from the old pugilistic application of this term.
BUFFER, a familiar expression for a jolly acquaintance, probably from
the _French_, BOUFFARD, a fool or clown; a “jolly old BUFFER,” said
of a good humoured or liberal old man. In 1737, a BUFFER was a “rogue
that killed good sound horses for the sake of their skins, by running a
long wire into them.”—_Bacchus and Venus._ The term was once applied to
those who took false oaths for a consideration.
BUFFLE HEAD, a stupid or obtuse person.—_Miege._ _German_,
BUFFEL-HAUPT, buffalo-headed.
BUFFY, intoxicated.—_Household Words_, No. 183.
BUGGY, a gig, or light chaise. Common term in America and in Ireland.
BUG-HUNTERS, low wretches who plunder drunken men.
BUILD, applied in fashionable slang to the make or style of dress, &c.;
“it’s a tidy BUILD, who made it?”
BULGER, large; synonymous with BUSTER.
BULL, term amongst prisoners for the meat served to them in jail.
BULL, one who agrees to purchase stock at a future day, at a stated
price, but who does not possess money to pay for it, trusting to a rise
in public securities to render the transaction a profitable one. Should
stocks fall, the bull is then called upon to pay the difference.—_See_
BEAR, who is the opposite of a BULL, the former selling, the latter
purchasing—the one operating for a _fall_ or a _pull down_, whilst the
other operates for a _rise_ or _toss up_.
BULL, a crown piece; formerly, BULL’S EYE.
BULL-THE-CASK, to pour hot water into an empty rum puncheon, and let it
stand until it extracts the spirit from the wood. The result is drunk
by sailors in default of something stronger.—_Sea._
BULLY, a braggart; but in the language of the streets, a man of the
most degraded morals, who protects prostitutes, and lives off their
miserable earnings.—_Shakespere_, Midsummer Night’s Dream, iii. 1; iv.
2.
BUM, the part on which we sit.—_Shakespere._ BUMBAGS, trowsers.
BUM-BAILIFF, a sheriff’s officer,—a term, some say, derived from the
proximity which this gentleman generally maintains to his victims.
_Blackstone_ says it is a corruption of “bound bailiff.”
BUM-BOATS, shore boats which supply ships with provisions, and serve as
means of communication between the sailors and the shore.
BUM-BRUSHER, a schoolmaster.
BUMMAREE. This term is given to a class of speculating salesmen at
Billingsgate market, not recognised as such by the trade, but who
get a living by buying large quantities of fish of the salesmen and
re-selling it to smaller buyers. The word has been used in the statutes
and bye-laws of the markets for upwards of 100 years. It has been
variously derived, but is most probably from the _French_, BONNE MAREE,
good fresh fish! “Marée signifie toute sorte de poisson de mer qûi
n’est pas salé; bonne marée—_marée fraiche_, vendeur de marée.”—_Dict.
de l’Acad. Franc._ The BUMMAREES are accused of many trade tricks. One
of them is to blow up cod-fish with a pipe until they look double their
actual size. Of course when the fish come to table they are flabby,
sunken, and half dwindled away. In Norwich, TO BUMMAREE ONE is to run
up a score at a public house just open, and is equivalent to “running
into debt with one.”
BUNCH OF FIVES, the hand, or fist.
BUNDLE, “to BUNDLE a person off,” _i.e._, to pack him off, send him
flying.
BUNG, the landlord of a public-house.
BUNG, to give, pass, hand over, drink, or indeed to perform any action;
BUNG UP, to close up—_Pugilistic_; “BUNG over the rag,” hand over the
money—_Old_, used by _Beaumont and Fletcher_, and _Shakespere_. Also,
to deceive one by a lie, to CRAM, which see.
BUNKER, beer.
BUNTS, costermonger’s perquisites; the money obtained by giving light
weight, &c.; costermongers’ goods sold by boys on commission. Probably
a corruption of _bonus_, BONE being the slang for good. BUNCE, _Grose_
gives as the cant word for money.
BURDON’S HOTEL, Whitecross-street prison, of which the Governor is or
was a Mr. Burdon.
BURERK, a lady. _Grose_ gives BURICK, a prostitute.
BURKE, to kill, to murder, by pitch plaster or other foul means. From
Burke, the notorious Whitechapel murderer, who with others used to
waylay people, kill them, and sell their bodies for dissection at the
hospitals.
BURYING A MOLL, running away from a mistress.
BUSKER, a man who sings or performs in a public house.—_Scotch._
BUSK (or BUSKING), to sell obscene songs and books at the bars and in
the tap rooms of public houses. Sometimes implies selling any articles.
BUSS, an abbreviation of “omnibus,” a public carriage. Also, a kiss.
BUST, or BURST, to tell tales, to SPLIT, to inform. BUSTING, informing
against accomplices when in custody.
BUSTER (BURSTER), a small new loaf; “twopenny BUSTER,” a twopenny loaf.
“A pennorth o’ BEES WAX (cheese) and a penny BUSTER,” a common snack at
beershops.
BUSTER, an extra size; “what a BUSTER,” what a large one; “in for
a BUSTER,” determined on an extensive frolic or spree. _Scotch_,
BUSTUOUS; _Icelandic_, BOSTRA.
BUSTLE, money; “to draw the BUSTLE.”
BUTTER, or BATTER, praise or flattery. To BUTTER, to flatter, cajole.
BUTTER-FINGERED, apt to let things fall.
BUTTON, a decoy, sham purchaser, &c. At any mock or sham auction seedy
specimens may be seen. Probably from the connection of _buttons_ with
_Brummagem_, which is often used as a synonyme for a sham.
BUTTONER, a man who entices another to play.—_See_ BONNETTER.
BUTTONS, a page,—from the rows of gilt buttons which adorn his jacket.
BUTTONS, “not to have all one’s BUTTONS,” to be deficient in intellect.
BUZ, to pick pockets; BUZ-FAKING, robbing.
BUZ, to share equally the last of a bottle of wine, when there is not
enough for a full glass for each of the party.
BUZZERS, pickpockets. _Grose_ gives BUZ COVE and BUZ GLOAK, the latter
is very ancient cant.
BUZ-BLOAK, a pickpocket, who principally confines his attention to
purses and loose cash. _Grose_ gives BUZ-GLOAK (or CLOAK?), an ancient
cant word. BUZ-NAPPER, a young pickpocket.
BUZ-NAPPER’S ACADEMY, a school in which young thieves are trained.
Figures are dressed up, and experienced tutors stand in various
difficult attitudes for the boys to practice upon. When clever enough
they are sent on the streets. It is reported that a house of this
nature is situated in a court near Hatton Garden. The system is well
explained in _Dickens’ Oliver Twist_.
BYE-BLOW, a bastard child.
BY GEORGE, an exclamation similar to BY JOVE. The term is older than is
frequently imagined, vide _Bacchus and Venus_ (p. 117), 1737. “Fore (or
by) GEORGE, I’d knock him down.” A street compliment to Saint George,
the patron Saint of England, or possibly to the House of Hanover.
BY GOLLY, an ejaculation, or oath; a compromise for “by God.” In the
United States, small boys are permitted by their guardians to say
GOL DARN anything, but they are on no account allowed to commit the
profanity of G—d d——g anything. An effective ejaculation and moral
waste pipe for interior passion or wrath is seen in the exclamation—BY
THE-EVER-LIVING-JUMPING-MOSES—a harmless phrase, that from its length
expends a considerable quantity of fiery anger.
CAB, in statutory language, “a hackney carriage drawn by one horse.”
Abbreviated from CABRIOLET, _French_; originally meaning “a light low
chaise.” The wags of Paris playing upon the word (quasi _cabri_ au
lait) used to call a superior turn-out of the kind a _cabri au crême_.
Our abbreviation, which certainly smacks of slang, has been stamped
with the authority of “GEORGE, _Ranger_.” See the notices affixed to
the carriage entrances of St. James’s Park.
CAB, to stick together, to muck, or tumble up.—_Devonshire._
CABBAGE, pieces of cloth said to be purloined by tailors.
CABBAGE, to pilfer or purloin. Termed by Johnson a cant word, but
adopted by later lexicographers as a respectable term. Said to have
been first used in this sense by _Arbuthnot_.
CABBY, the driver of a cab.
CAD, or CADGER (from which it is shortened), a mean or vulgar fellow;
a beggar; one who would rather live on other people than work for
himself; a man trying to worm something out of another, either money
or information. _Johnson_ uses the word, and gives _huckster_ as the
meaning, but I never heard it used in this sense. CAGER, or GAGER, the
_old cant_ term for a man. The exclusives in the Universities apply the
term CAD to all non-members.
CAD, an omnibus conductor.
CADGE, to beg in an artful or wheedling manner.—_North._
CADGING, begging of the lowest degree.
CAG-MAG, bad food, scraps, odds and ends; or that which no one could
relish. _Grose_ gives CAGG MAGGS, old and tough Lincolnshire geese,
sent to London to feast the poor cockneys.
CAGE, a minor kind of prison.—_Shakespere_, part ii. of Henry IV., iv.
2.
CAKE, a flat, a soft or doughy person, a fool.
CAKEY-PANNUM-FENCER, a man who sells street pastry.
CALL-A-GO, in street “patter,” is to remove to another spot, or address
the public in different vein.
CAMESA, shirt or chemise.—_Span._ _Ancient cant_, COMMISSION.
CAMISTER, a preacher, clergyman, or master.
CANARY, a sovereign. This is stated by a correspondent to be a Norwich
term, that city being famous for its breed of those birds.
CANISTER, the head.—_Pugilistic._
CANISTER-CAP, a hat.—_Pugilistic._
CANNIKEN, a small can, similar to PANNIKIN.—_Shakespere._
CANT, a blow or toss; “a cant over the kisser,” a blow on the
mouth.—_Kentish._
CANT OF TOGS, a gift of clothes.
CARDINAL, a lady’s cloak. This, I am assured, is the _Seven Dials_
cant term for a lady’s garment, but curiously enough the same name is
given to the most fashionable patterns of the article by Regent-street
drapers. A cloak with this name was in fashion in the year 1760. It
received its title from its similarity in shape to one of the vestments
of a cardinal.
CARNEY, soft talk, nonsense, gammon.—_Hibernicism._
CAROON, five shillings. _French_, COURONNE; Gipsey, COURNA,—PANSH
COURNA, half-a-crown.
CARPET, “upon the CARPET,” any subject or matter that is uppermost for
discussion or conversation. Frequently quoted as _sur le tapis_, but it
does not seem to be a correct Parisian phrase.
CARRIER PIGEONS, swindlers, who formerly used to cheat Lottery Office
Keepers. _Nearly obsolete._
CARROTS, the coarse and satirical term for red hair.
CARRY-ON, to joke a person to excess, to carry on a “spree” too far;
“how we CARRIED ON, to be sure!” _i.e._, what fun we had.
CART, a race-course.
CARTS, a pair of shoes. In Norfolk the carapace of a crab is called a
_crab cart_, hence CARTS would be synonymous with CRAB SHELLS, which
see.
CART WHEEL, a five shilling piece.
CASA, or CASE, a house, respectable or otherwise. Probably from the
_Italian_, CASA.—_Old cant._ The _Dutch_ use the word KAST in a vulgar
sense for a house, _i.e._, MOTTEKAST, a brothel. CASE sometimes means a
water-closet.
CASCADING, vomiting.
CASE, a bad crown piece. HALF-A-CASE, a counterfeit half crown. There
are two sources, either of which may have contributed this slang term.
CASER is the Hebrew word for a crown; and silver coin is frequently
counterfeited by coating or CASING pewter or iron imitations with
silver.
CASE. A few years ago the term CASE was applied to persons and things;
“what a CASE he is,” _i.e._, what a curious person; “a rum CASE that,”
or “you are a CASE,” both synonymous with the phrase “odd fish,” common
half-a-century ago. Among young ladies at boarding schools a CASE means
a love affair.
CASK, fashionable slang for a brougham, or other private
carriage.—_Household Words_, No. 183.
CASSAM, cheese—not CAFFAN, which Egan, in his edition of _Grose_, has
ridiculously inserted.—_Ancient cant._ _Latin_, CASEUS.
CASTING UP ONE’S ACCOUNTS, vomiting.—_Old._
CASTOR, a hat. CASTOR was once the ancient word for a BEAVER; and
strange to add, BEAVER was the slang for CASTOR, or hat, thirty years
ago, before gossamer came into fashion.
CAT, to vomit like a cat.—_See_ SHOOT THE CAT.
CAT, a lady’s muff; “to free a CAT,” _i.e._, steal a muff.
CATARACT, a black satin scarf arranged for the display of jewellery,
much in vogue among “commercial gents.”
CATCH ’EM ALIVE, a trap, also a small-tooth comb.
CATCHY (similar formation to _touchy_), inclined to take an undue
advantage.
CATEVER, a queer, or singular affair; anything poor, or very bad. From
the _Lingua Franca_, and _Italian_, CATTIVO, bad. Variously spelled by
the lower orders.—_See_ KERTEVER.
CATGUT-SCRAPER, a fiddler.
CAT-LAP, a contemptuous expression for weak drink.
CAT’S WATER, old Tom, or Gin.
CAT AND KITTEN SNEAKING, stealing pint and quart pots from
public-houses.
CATCH-PENNY, any temporary contrivance to obtain money from the public,
penny shows, or cheap exhibitions.
CAT-IN-THE-PAN, a traitor, a turn-coat—derived by some from the
_Greek_, καταπαν, altogether; or from _cake in pan_, a pan cake, which
is frequently turned from side to side.
CAUCUS, a private meeting held for the purpose of concerting measures,
agreeing upon candidates for office before an election, &c.—_See
Pickering’s Vocabulary._
CAVAULTING, coition. _Lingua Franca_, CAVOLTA.
CAVE, or CAVE IN, to submit, shut up.—_American._ Metaphor taken from
the sinking of an abandoned mining shaft.
CHAFF, to gammon, joke, quiz, or praise ironically. CHAFF-bone, the
jaw-bone.—_Yorkshire._ CHAFF, jesting. In _Anglo Saxon_, CEAF is chaff;
and CEAFL, bill, beak, or jaw. In the “Ancien Riwle,” A.D. 1221,
_ceafle_ is used in the sense of idle discourse.
CHALK-OUT, or CHALK DOWN, to mark out a line of conduct or action; to
make a rule, order. Phrase derived from the _Workshop_.
CHALK UP, to credit, make entry in account books of indebtedness; “I
can’t pay you now, but you can CHALK IT UP,” _i.e._, charge me with the
article in your day-book. From the old practice of chalking one’s score
for drink behind the bar-doors of public houses.
CHALKS, “to walk one’s CHALKS,” to move off, or run away. An ordeal for
drunkenness used on board ship, to see whether the suspected person can
walk on a chalked line without overstepping it on either side.
CHAP, a fellow, a boy; “a low CHAP,” a low fellow—abbreviation of
CHAP-MAN, a huckster. Used by Byron in his _Critical Remarks_.
CHARIOT-BUZZING, picking pockets in an omnibus.
CHARLEY, a watchman, a beadle.
CHARLEY-PITCHERS, low, cheating gamblers.
CHATTER BASKET, common term for a prattling child amongst nurses.
CHATTER-BOX, an incessant talker or chatterer.
CHATTRY-FEEDER, a spoon.
CHATTS, dice,—formerly the gallows; a bunch of seals.
CHATTS, lice, or body vermin.
CHATTY, a filthy person, one whose clothes are not free from vermin;
CHATTY DOSS, a lousy bed.
CHAUNTER-CULLS, a singular body of men who used to haunt certain well
known public-houses, and write satirical or libellous ballads on any
person, or body of persons, for a consideration. 7s. 6d. was the
usual fee, and in three hours the ballad might be heard in St. Paul’s
Churchyard, or other public spot. There are two men in London at the
present day who gain their living in this way.
CHAUNTERS, those street sellers of ballads, last copies of verses, and
other broadsheets, who sing or bawl the contents of their papers. They
often term themselves PAPER WORKERS. _A. N._—_See_ HORSE CHAUNTERS.
CHAUNT, to sing the contents of any paper in the streets. CANT, as
applied to vulgar language, was derived from CHAUNT.—_See Introduction._
CHEAP, “doing it on the CHEAP,” living economically, or keeping up a
showy appearance with very little means.
CHEAP JACKS, or JOHNS, oratorical hucksters and patterers of hardware,
&c., at fairs and races. They put an article up at a high price, and
then cheapen it by degrees, indulging in volleys of coarse wit, until
it becomes to all appearance a bargain, and as such it is bought by
one of the crowd. The popular idea is that the inverse method of
auctioneering saves them paying for the auction license.
CHEEK, share or portion; “where’s my CHEEK?” where is my allowance?
CHEEK, impudence, assurance; CHEEKY, saucy or forward. _Lincolnshire_,
CHEEK, to accuse.
CHEEK, to irritate by impudence.
CHEEK BY JOWL, side by side,—said often of persons in such close
confabulation as almost to have their faces touch.
CHEESE, anything good, first-rate in quality, genuine, pleasant, or
advantageous, is termed THE CHEESE. _Mayhew_ thinks CHEESE, in this
sense, is from the _Saxon_, CEOSAN, to choose, and quotes _Chaucer_,
who uses CHESE in the sense of choice. The _London Guide_, 1818, says
it was from some young fellows translating “c’est une autre CHOSE” into
“that is another CHEESE.” CHEESE is also _Gipsey_ and _Hindoo_ (_see
Introduction_); and _Persian_, CHIZ, a thing.—_See_ STILTON.
CHEESE, or CHEESE IT (evidently a corruption of _cease_), leave off, or
have done; “CHEESE your barrikin,” hold your noise.
CHEESY, fine or showy.
CHERUBS, or CHERUBIMS, the chorister boys who chaunt in the services at
the abbeys.
CHESHIRE CAT, “to grin like a CHESHIRE CAT,” to display the teeth and
gums when laughing. Formerly the phrase was “to grin like a CHESHIRE
CAT _eating_ CHEESE.” A _hardly satisfactory_ explanation has been
given of this phrase—that Cheshire is a county palatine, and the cats,
when they think of it, are so tickled with the notion that they can’t
help grinning.
CHICKEN, a young girl.
CHICKEN-HEARTED, cowardly, fearful.
CHI-IKE, a hurrah, a good word, or hearty praise.
CHINK, money.—_Ancient._—_See_ FLORIO.
CHINKERS, money.
CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK, a child who resembles its father. BROTHER CHIP,
one of the same trade or profession.
CHIPS, money.
CHISEL, to cheat.
CHITTERLINGS, the shirt frills worn still by ancient beaux; properly,
the _entrails of a pig_, to which they are supposed to bear some
resemblance. _Belgian_, SCHYTERLINGH.
CHIVARLY, coition. Probably a corruption from the _Lingua Franca_.
CHIVE, a knife; a sharp tool of any kind.—_Old cant._ This term is
particularly applied to the tin knives used in gaols.
CHIVE, to cut, saw, or file.
CHIVE, or CHIVEY, a shout; a halloo, or cheer, loud tongued. From
CHEVY-CHASE, a boy’s game, in which the word CHEVY is bawled aloud; or
from the _Gipsey_?—_See Introduction._
CHIVE-FENCER, a street hawker of cutlery.
CHIVEY, to chase round, or hunt about.
CHOCK-FULL, full till the scale comes down with a shock. _French_,
CHOC. A correspondent suggests CHOKED-FULL.
CHOKE OFF, to get rid of. Bull dogs can only be made to loose their
hold by choking them.
CHOKER, a cravat, a neckerchief. WHITE-CHOKER, the white neckerchief
worn by mutes at a funeral, and waiters at a tavern. Clergymen are
frequently termed WHITE-CHOKERS.
CHOKER, or WIND-STOPPER, a garrotter.
CHONKEYS, a kind of mince meat baked in a crust, and sold in the
streets.
CHOP, to change.—_Old._
CHOPS, properly CHAPS, the mouth, or cheeks; “down in the CHOPS,” or
“down in the mouth,” _i.e._, sad or melancholy.
CHOUSE, to cheat out of one’s share or portion. Hackluyt, CHAUS;
Massinger, CHIAUS. From the Turkish, in which language it signifies an
interpreter. Gifford gives a curious story as to its origin:—
In the year 1609 there was attached to the Turkish embassy in England
an interpreter, or CHIAOUS, who by cunning, aided by his official
position, managed to cheat the Turkish and Persian merchants then
in London out of the large sum of £1,000, then deemed an enormous
amount. From the notoriety which attended the fraud, and the
magnitude of the swindle, any one who cheated or defrauded was
said to _chiaous_, or _chause_, or CHOUSE; to do, that is, as this
_Chiaous_ had done.—_See Trench, Eng. Past and Present_, p. 87.
CHOUT, an entertainment.
CHOVEY, a shop.
CHRISTENING, erasing the name of the maker from a stolen watch, and
inserting a fictitious one in its place.
CHUBBY, round-faced, plump.
CHUCK, a schoolboy’s treat.—_Westminster school._ Food, provision for
an entertainment.—_Norwich._
CHUCK, to throw or pitch.
CHUCKING A JOLLY, when a costermonger praises the inferior article his
mate or partner is trying to sell.
CHUCKING A STALL, where one rogue walks in front of a person while
another picks his pockets.
CHUCKLE-HEAD, a fool.—_Devonshire._
CHUFF IT, _i.e._, be off, or take it away, in answer to a street seller
who is importuning you to purchase. _Halliwell_ mentions CHUFF as a
“term of reproach,” surly, &c.
CHUM, an acquaintance. A recognised term, but in such frequent use with
the lower orders that it demanded a place in this glossary.
CHUM, to occupy a joint lodging with another person.
CHUMMING-UP, an old custom amongst prisoners when a fresh culprit is
admitted to their number, consisting of a noisy welcome—rough music
made with pokers, tongs, sticks, and saucepans. For this ovation the
initiated prisoner has to pay, or FORK OVER, half a crown—or submit to
a loss of coat and waistcoat. The practice is ancient.
CHUMMY, a chimney sweep; also a low-crowned felt hat.
CHUNK, a thick or dumpy piece of any substance.—_Kentish._
CHURCH A YACK (or watch), to take the works of a watch from its
original case and put them into another one, to avoid detection.—_See_
CHRISTEN.
CHURCHWARDEN, a long pipe, “A YARD OF CLAY.”
CLAGGUM, boiled treacle in a hardened state, _Hardbake_.—_See_ CLIGGY.
CLAP, to place; “do you think you can CLAP your hand on him?” _i.e._,
find him out.
CLAPPER, the tongue.
CLAP-TRAP, high-sounding nonsense. An ancient _Theatrical_ term for
a “TRAP to catch a CLAP by way of applause from the spectators at a
play.”—_Bailey’s Dictionary._
CLARET, blood.—_Pugilistic._
CLEAN, quite, or entirely; “CLEAN gone,” entirely out of sight, or
away.—_Old, see Cotgrave._—_Shakespere._
CLEAN OUT, to thrash, or beat; to ruin, or bankrupt any one; to take
all they have got, by purchase, or force. _De Quincey_, in his article
on “Richard Bentley,” speaking of the lawsuit between that great
scholar and Dr. Colbatch, remarks that the latter “must have been
pretty well CLEANED OUT.”
CLICK, knock, or blow. CLICK-HANDED, left-handed.—_Cornish._
CLICK, to snatch.
CLIFT, to steal.
CLIGGY, or CLIDGY, sticky.—_Anglo Saxon_, CLÆG, clay.—_See_ CLAGGUM.
CLINCHER, that which rivets or confirms an argument, an
incontrovertible position. Metaphor from the workshop.
CLINK-RIG, stealing tankards from public-houses, taverns, &c.
CLIPPING, excellent, very good.
CLOCK, “to know what’s O’CLOCK,” a definition of knowingness in
general.—_See_ TIME O’DAY.
CLOD-HOPPER, a country clown.
CLOUT, or RAG, a cotton pocket handkerchief.—_Old cant._
CLOUT, a blow, or intentional strike.—_Ancient._
CLOVER, happiness, or luck.
CLUMP, to strike.
CLY, a pocket.—_Old cant_ for to steal. A correspondent derives this
word from the _Old English_, CLEYES, claws; _Anglo Saxon_, CLEA. This
pronunciation is still retained in Norfolk; thus, to CLY would mean to
pounce upon, snatch.—_See_ FRISK.
CLY-FAKER, a pickpocket.
COACH, a Cambridge term for a private tutor.
COACH WHEEL, or TUSHEROON, a crown piece, or five shillings.
COALS, “to call (or pull) over the COALS,” to take to task, to scold.
COCK, or more frequently now a days, COCK-E-E, a vulgar street
salutation—corruption of COCK-EYE. The latter is frequently heard as a
shout or street cry after a man or boy.
COCK AND A BULL STORY, a long, rambling anecdote.—_See Notes and
Queries_, vol. iv., p. 313.
COCKCHAFER, the treadmill.
COCK-EYE, one that squints.
COCKLES, “to rejoice the COCKLES of one’s heart,” a vulgar phrase
implying great pleasure.—_See_ PLUCK.
COCKNEY, a native of London. Originally, a spoilt or effeminate boy,
derived from COCKERING, or foolishly petting a person, rendering them
of soft or luxurious manners. Halliwell states, in his admirable essay
upon the word, that “some writers trace the word with much probability
to the imaginary land of COCKAYGNE, the lubber land of the olden
times.” _Grose_ gives Minsheu’s absurd but comical derivation:—A
citizen of London being in the country, and hearing a horse neigh,
exclaimed, “_Lord! how that horse laughs_.” A bystander informed him
that that noise was called neighing. The next morning, when the cock
crowed, the citizen, to show that he had not forgotten what was told
him, cried out, “_do you hear how the_ COCK NEIGHS?”
COCK OF THE WALK, a master spirit, head of a party. Places where
poultry are fed are called WALKS, and the barn-door cocks invariably
fight for the supremacy till one has obtained it.
COCKS, fictitious narratives, in verse or prose, of murders, fires, and
terrible accidents, sold in the streets as true accounts. The man who
hawks them, a patterer, often changes the scene of the awful event to
suit the taste of the neighbourhood he is trying to delude. Possibly
a corruption of _cook_, a cooked statement, or, as a correspondent
suggests, the COCK LANE Ghost may have given rise to the term. This had
a great run, and was a rich harvest to the running stationers.
COCK ONE’S TOES, to die.
COCK ROBIN SHOP, a small printer’s office, where low wages are paid to
journeymen who have never served a regular apprenticeship.
COCKSHY, a game at fairs and races, where trinkets are set upon sticks,
and for one penny three throws at them are accorded, the thrower
keeping whatever he knocks off. From the ancient game of throwing or
“shying” at live cocks.
COCKSURE, certain.
COCKY, pert, saucy.
COCKYOLY BIRDS, little birds, frequently called “dickey
birds.”—_Kingsley’s Two Years Ago._
COCK, “to COCK your eye,” to shut or wink one eye.
COCUM, advantage, luck, cunning, or sly, “to fight COCUM,” to be wily
and cautious.
CODDS, the “poor brethren” of the Charter house. At p. 133 of the
_Newcomes_, Mr. Thackeray writes, “The Cistercian lads call these old
gentlemen CODDS, I know not wherefore.” An abbreviation of CODGER.
CODGER, an old man; “a rum old CODGER,” a curious old fellow. CODGER is
sometimes used synonymous with CADGER, and then signifies a person who
gets his living in a questionable manner. CAGER, or GAGER, was the old
cant term for a man.
COFFEE-SHOP, a water-closet, or house of office.
COG, to cheat at dice.—_Shakespere._ Also, to agree with, as one
cog-wheel does with another.
COLD BLOOD, a house licensed for the sale of beer “NOT to be drunk on
the premises.”
COLD COOK, an undertaker.
COLD MEAT, a corpse.
COLD SHOULDER, “to show or give any one the COLD SHOULDER,” to
assume a distant manner towards them, to evince a desire to cease
acquaintanceship. Sometimes it is termed “cold shoulder of _mutton_.”
COLLAR, “out of COLLAR,” _i.e._, out of place, no work.
COLLAR, to seize, to lay hold of.
COLLY-WOBBLES, a stomach ache, a person’s bowels,—supposed by many
of the lower orders to be the seat of feeling and nutrition; an idea
either borrowed from, or transmitted by, the ancients.—_Devonshire._
COLT’S TOOTH, elderly persons of juvenile tastes are said to have a
colt’s tooth.
COMB-CUT, mortified, disgraced, “down on one’s luck.”—_See_ CUT.
COME, a slang verb used in many phrases; “A’nt he COMING IT?” _i.e._,
is he not proceeding at a great rate? “Don’t COME TRICKS here,” “don’t
COME THE OLD SOLDIER over me,” _i.e._, we are aware of your practices,
and “twig” your manœuvre. COMING IT STRONG, exaggerating, going a-head,
the opposite of “_drawing it mild_.” COMING IT also means informing or
disclosing.
COME DOWN, to pay down.
COMMISSION, a shirt.—_Ancient cant._ _Italian_, CAMICIA.
COMMISTER, a chaplain or clergyman.
COMMON SEWER, a DRAIN, or drink.
COMMONS, rations, because eaten _in common_.—_University._ SHORT
COMMONS (derived from the University slang term), a scanty meal, a
scarcity.
CONK, a nose; CONKY, having a projecting or remarkable nose. The Duke
of Wellington was frequently termed “Old CONKY” in satirical papers and
caricatures.
CONSTABLE, “to overrun the CONSTABLE,” to exceed one’s income, get deep
in debt.
CONVEY, to steal; “CONVEY, the wise it call.”
CONVEYANCER, a pick-pocket. _Shakespere_ uses the cant expression,
CONVEYER, a thief. The same term is also _French slang_.
COOK, a term well known in the Bankruptcy Courts, referring to accounts
that have been meddled with, or COOKED, by the bankrupt; also the
forming a balance sheet from general trade inferences; stated by a
correspondent to have been first used in reference to the celebrated
alteration of the accounts of the Eastern Counties Railway, by George
Hudson, the Railway King.
COOK ONE’S GOOSE, to kill or ruin any person.—_North._
COOLIE, a soldier, in allusion to the _Hindoo_ COOLIES, or day
labourers.
COON, abbreviation of Racoon.—_American._ A GONE COON—_ditto_, one
in an awful fix, past praying for. This expression is said to have
originated in the American war with a spy, who dressed himself in a
racoon skin, and ensconced himself in a tree. An English rifleman
taking him for a veritable coon levelled his piece at him, upon which
he exclaimed, “Don’t shoot, I’ll come down of myself, I know I’m a GONE
COON.” The Yankees say the Britisher was so flummuxed, that he flung
down his rifle and “made tracks” for home. The phrase is pretty usual
in England.
COOPER, stout half-and-half, _i.e._, half stout and half porter.
COOPER, to destroy, spoil, settle, or finish. COOPER’D, spoilt, “done
up,” synonymous with the Americanism, CAVED IN, fallen in and ruined.
The vagabonds’ hieroglyphic ▽, chalked by them on gate posts and
houses, signifies that the place has been spoilt by too many tramps
calling there.
COOPER, to forge, or imitate in writing; “COOPER a moneker,” to forge a
signature.
COP, to seize or lay hold of anything unpleasant; used in a similar
sense to _catch_ in the phrase “to COP (or catch) a beating,” “to get
COPT.”
COPER, properly HORSE-COUPER, a Scotch horse-dealer,—used to denote a
dishonest one.
COPPER, a policeman, _i.e._, one who COPS, which see.
COPPER, a penny. COPPERS, mixed pence.
COPUS, a Cambridge drink, consisting of ale combined with spices, and
varied by spirits, wines, &c. Corruption of HIPPOCRAS.
CORINTHIANISM, a term derived from the classics, much in vogue some
years ago, implying pugilism, high life, “sprees,” roistering,
&c.—_Shakespere_. The immorality of _Corinth_ was proverbial in
Greece. Κορινθίαζ εσθαι, to _Corinthianise_, indulge in the company of
courtesans, was a _Greek_ slang expression. Hence the proverb—
Οὐ παντὸς ἀνδρὸς εἰς Κόρινθον ἔσθ' ὁ πλοῦς,
and _Horace_, Epist. lib. 1, xvii. 36—
Non cuivis homini contingit adire Corinthum,
in allusion to the spoliation practised by the “hetæræ” on those who
visited them.
CORK, “to draw a CORK,” to give a bloody nose.—_Pugilistic._
CORKS, money; “how are you off for corks?” a soldier’s term of a very
expressive kind, denoting the means of “keeping afloat.”
CORNED, drunk or intoxicated. Possibly from soaking or pickling oneself
like CORNED beef.
CORNERED, hemmed in a corner, placed in a position from which there is
no escape.—_American._
CORPORATION, the protuberant front of an obese person.
CORPSE, to confuse or put out the actors by making a
mistake.—_Theatrical._
COSSACK, a policeman.
COSTERMONGERS, street sellers of fish, fruit, vegetables, poultry, &c.
The London costermongers number more than 30,000. They form a distinct
class, occupying whole neighbourhoods, and are cut off from the rest
of metropolitan society by their low habits, general improvidence,
pugnacity, love of gambling, total want of education, disregard for
lawful marriage ceremonies, _and their use of a cant_ (or so-called
_back slang_) _language_.
COSTER, the short and slang term for a costermonger, or costard-monger,
who was originally an apple seller. COSTERING, _i.e._, costermongering.
COTTON, to like, adhere to, or agree with any person; “to cotton on to
a man,” to attach yourself to him, or fancy him, literally, to stick to
him as cotton would. _Vide Bartlett_, who claims it as an Americanism;
and _Halliwell_, who terms it an Archaism; also _Bacchus and Venus_,
1737.
COUNCIL OF TEN, the toes of a man who turns his feet inward.
COUNTER JUMPER, a shopman, a draper’s assistant.
COUNTY-CROP (_i.e._, COUNTY-PRISON CROP), hair cut close and round, as
if guided by a basin—an indication of having been in prison.
COUTER, a sovereign. HALF-A-COUTER, half-a-sovereign.
COVE, or COVEY, a boy or man of any age or station. A term generally
preceded by an expressive adjective, thus a “flash COVE,” a “rum COVE,”
a “downy COVE,” &c. The feminine, COVESS, was once popular, but it has
fallen into disuse. _Ancient cant_, originally (temp. Henry VIII.)
COFE, or CUFFIN, altered in _Decker’s_ time to COVE. Probably connected
with CUIF, which, in the North of England, signifies a lout or awkward
fellow. Amongst _Negroes_, CUFFEE.
COVENTRY, “to send a man to COVENTRY,” not to speak to or notice him.
Coventry was one of those towns in which the privilege of practising
most trades was anciently confined to certain privileged persons, as
the freemen, &c. Hence a stranger stood little chance of custom, or
countenance, and “to send a man to COVENTRY,” came to be equivalent to
putting him out of the pale of society.
COVER-DOWN, a tossing coin with a false cover, enabling either head or
tail to be shown, according as the cover is left on or taken off.
COWAN, a sneak, an inquisitive or prying person.—_Masonic term._
_Greek_, κύων, a dog.
COW’S GREASE, butter.
COW-LICK, the term given to the lock of hair which costermongers
and thieves usually twist forward from the ear; a large greasy
curl upon the cheek, seemingly licked into shape. The opposite of
NEWGATE-KNOCKER, which see.
COXY-LOXY, good-tempered, drunk.—_Norfolk._
CRAB, or GRAB, a disagreeable old person. _Name of a wild and sour
fruit._ “To catch a CRAB,” to fall backwards by missing a stroke in
rowing.
CRAB, to offend, or insult; to expose or defeat a robbery, to inform
against.
CRABSHELLS, or TROTTING CASES, shoes.—_See_ CARTS.
CRACK, first-rate, excellent; “a CRACK HAND,” an adept; a “CRACK
article,” a good one.—_Old._
CRACK, dry firewood.—_Modern Gipsey._
CRACK, “in a CRACK (of the finger and thumb),” in a moment.
CRACK A BOTTLE, to drink. _Shakespere_ uses CRUSH in the same slang
sense.
CRACK A KIRK, to break into a church or chapel.
CRACK-FENCER, a man who sells nuts.
CRACK-UP, to boast or praise.—_Ancient English._
CRACKED-UP, penniless, or ruined.
CRACKSMAN, a burglar.
CRAM, to lie or deceive, implying to fill up or CRAM a person with
false stories; to acquire learning quickly, to “_grind_,” or prepare
for an examination.
CRAMMER, a lie; or a person who commits a falsehood.
CRANKY, foolish, idiotic, ricketty, capricious, not confined to
persons. _Ancient cant_, CRANKE, simulated sickness. _German_, KRANK,
sickly.
CRAP, to ease oneself, to evacuate. _Old word_ for refuse; also _old
cant_, CROP.
CRAPPING CASE, or KEN, a privy, or water-closet.
CRAPPED, hanged.
CREAM OF THE VALLEY, gin.
CRIB, house, public or otherwise; lodgings, apartments.
CRIB, a situation.
CRIB, to steal or purloin.
CRIB, a literal translation of a c
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/47018