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(delwedd D4320) (tudalen ii)
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ii
THE
GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE LIBRARY.
The
Gentleman's Magazine Library
Dialect, Proverbs and Word-Lore
A
Classified Collection of the Chief Contents
of “The Gentleman's Magazine “from
1731-1868
Edited by
George Laurence Gomme
London
Elliot Stock, 62 Paternoster Row 1886
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iii
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iv
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(delwedd D4323) (tudalen v)
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v PREFACE.
T UST at
the time when all students are welcoming the first part
J
of that
colossal work, A New English Dictionary on Historical
Principles,
brought out by the Clarendon Press under the care of Dr. Murray, I venture to
think that the contributions to the old Gentleman's Magazine, collected and
reprinted in this volume, will form an acceptable addition to the word-books
already on the shelves of most libraries. I am anxious to impress upon the
mind of readers that this volume, like its predecessor on “Manners and
Customs," does not pretend to be anything more than a collection of
material for future use a brick towards the building up of the great English
word-book; it does not pretend to be complete, except so far as its original
authors have made it, and its accuracy is dependent upon the varied skill and
learning of the writers who have contributed to the pages of the famous old
magazine. Its chief merit, if I mistake not, will be found to consist in the
local knowledge and information which is so abundantly shown throughout its pages,
and which is now so rapidly becoming impossible for the modern student to
attain. The eighteenth century scholars, not so skilful as those who have
lived in the times of comparative philology, have still done some good work
in recognising the value of the material that was to hand; and it is not a
little remarkable that so
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(delwedd D4324) (tudalen vi)
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vi
Preface.
popular a magazine as the Gentleman’s undoubtedly was should have found room
for those specimens of dialect which we of this age so gladly reprint and
re-edit. Another merit I trust I may claim for this volume. The compilers of
the New English Dictionary, and all researchers into the word-history of the
English language, will doubtless have thought it necessary to examine the
Gentleman's Magazine, and this lengthy task may be lightened by the
possession of this volume of collected reprints. Again, the early pioneers of
the English Dialect Society examined the volumes of the original to gather
together the references to Dialect, and besides having these communications
printed here in extenso, there will be found much more information than they
had been able to note.
It is a part of the scheme for this collection from the Gentleman's Magazine
to keep the reprinted articles as far as possible intact and unaltered. All
editorial additions are inserted between square brackets, and such notes as
are thought advisable, either for the elucidation of the text, or as showing
what has since been done, are placed at the end of the book. All the articles
are printed as they stand in the original, with the exception of those on
Signs of Inns. That portion of this series signed by “Hinyboro," and
originally printed in 1818-19, I have curtailed, because the author wandered
off into dissertations which, while entertaining of themselves, took up too
much space for their real value. Sometimes, when an article has not appeared
to me to be of sufficient importance to print in the text, I have either
printed it in extenso, or summarised it, iii the notes.
In the notes I do lay claim to have exhausted the references to any of the
subjects treated of. As a collection of materials for future use, it is not
necessary to add more to the original text than will be sufficient to correct
errors or supply such bibliographical or other information as will enable
readers to pursue the subject for themselves. To the more general text-books on
the subjects treated
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(delwedd D4325) (tudalen vii)
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Preface.
vii
of I have but seldom i i . consult
the pages of Notes and Queries, i I . />' uf Archaic
Words, Nares' Glossary, \\ aJy.wGod's Oil J.-.H ^ii^ii j-'.fj'nt'ju'gy,
Skeat's Etymological Dictionary, for any additional facts they wish to
obtain. On the subject of Diaiect there are of course the valuable
publications of the English Dialect Society and some volumes issued by the
Philological Society to consult. On the subject of Proverbs I may refer to
Hazlitt's Collection of English Proverbs and Proverbial Phrases, re-issued in
a second edition in 1882; Bonn's English Proverbs and Polyglot of Proverbs.
On Names of Persons and Places, a subject long of interest to students and
scholars, the Rev. Isaac Taylor's Words and Places, R. C. Hope's Dialectal
Place Nomenclature^ Edmunds' Names of Places, Ferguson's River Names of
Europe, English Surnames, Teutonic Name System, and Surnames as a Science,
Leo's Rectitudines Singularum Persona-nun, Bardsley's English Surnames,
Bowditch's Suffolk Surnames, and Captain R. C. Temple's Proper Names of the
Panjabis, should be consulted. On the Signs of Inns Notes and Queries has
long devoted much attention, and there is Larwood and Hotten's History of
Signboards.
In travelling over such a vast quantity of printed matter it is possible I
may have missed some small items of interest, though every available
precaution against this has been taken. The following items are not included
in the volume because they are not of sufficient value to preserve in their
present form, though a reference to them here may be useful:
PROVERBS.
Sent to Coventry, 1791, Part II, pp. 622, 623. He that fights and runs away,
1835, Part L, pp. 338, 562.
WORD-LISTS.
Glossary to Sir Walter Scott's Sir Tristrem, 1833, Part II., p. 307; 1834,
Part L, pp. 167-170.
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(delwedd D4326) (tudalen viii)
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viii via Preface
A Persic Glossary of Mercantile Terns, 1769, pp. 391, 392. Origin of the term
Druid, 1833, Part I, p. 328. Use of the word Great, 177!) pp. 115, 116.
LANGUAGE.
Use of the articles A and AN, Vulgar corruptions, 1790, Part II., p. 617.
Petition of C. G. and J., 1758, pp. 79, So. Phrases borrowed from the Latin,
1783, Part I, p. 232. Remarks on the language of Biscay and Ireland, 1759,
pp. 378-380. Language of North and South Wales, 1769, p. 127; 1770, pp. 152,
210, 211, 292, 293.
NAMES.
Name of Mill, 1788, Part II., p. 1154.
On the origin of Proper Names, 1830, Part I., pp. 298-300.
It now remains to say a word or two about the contributors. With the
exception of M. Green and Paul Gemsage, or Gemsege, all are different from
those whose names appeared in the volume on Manners and Customs. Paul
Gemsage, as we already know, was Dr. Samuel Pegge, and besides this
anagramatic nom-de-plume we have him also appearing under the signature of T.
Row. There are a great many papers signed by only initials, or some still
less distinguishable a sign, and for the purpose of identifying these writers
I am very kindly promised some help by Dr. Brushfield, of Budleigh Salterton,
who fortunately possesses a copy of the Gentleman! s Magazine, once belonging
to Mr. Nichols, and which contains manuscript notes on all the authors. Of
the other names the most distinguished is that of John Mitchell Kemble, the
Anglo-Saxon scholar, well known as the author of Saxons in England, and
editor of the Codex Diplomaticus
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(delwedd D4327) (tudalen ix)
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Preface.
ix
Saxonici. Mr. Kemble's books are known to all lovers of Saxon England, and
his memory is not yet lost to the students of this age. Talking some time ago
to Mr. Thorns, he told me of a visit he once made to Mr. Kemble at, I think,
Crouch End. Driving from the station to his residence, Mr. Kemble described
to his friend the historic value of the village green they passed on their
way, and pointed out the evidences of the mark system still extant. This
episode occurred before Saxons in England was published, and Mr. Thorns told
me he well remembered the fire and enthusiasm of his brilliant host. There are
only two other names of importance. Davies Gilbert was born in 1767 and died
in 1837. He was D.C.L., F.R.S., and F.S.A. In 1804 he was elected M.P. for
Helston, and in 1806 for Bodmin, for which town he sat till 1832. His real
name was Giddy, which he altered in 1817 to Gilbert. For three years he was
President of the Royal Society. Among his contributions to literature may be
mentioned Christmas Carols, 1823; Mount Calvary, written in Cornish and
interpreted in the English tongue by John Keignin, gent., in 1682, 1826;
Creation of the World, written in Cornish in 1611,1827; Parochial History of
Cornwall, 4 vols., 1837-8. Mr. John Trotter Brockett is well known as an
antiquary. He was an attorney at Carlisle, born 1788, died 1842. James Hall,
who writes in 1809 (see p. 73), was perhaps Sir James Hall, eminent for
geology and chemical science, but who wrote an Essay on the Origin,
Principles and History of Gothic Architecture, born 1761, died 1832, The
celebrated Dorset antiquary, the Rev. W. Barnes, contributed to this section
of the Gentleman 's Magazine. Mr. Barnes is still living at his rectory of
Winterbourne, to which he was instituted in 1862. Some of Mr. Barnes's
contributions to Dorset Dialect are enumerated in a note (p. 341). Another
living contributor is Mr. T. T. Wilkinson, the well-known Lancashire
antiquary, and joint author, with the late Mr. Harland, of Legends and
Traditions of Lancashire. The other names are D. A. Briton, J. Dowland, J.
Gordon, William
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(delwedd D4328) (tudalen x)
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x Preface.
Humphries, T. Norworth, William A. Part, H. Philipps, John Wilson, Edward J.
Wood. The signatures J. Ray and James Howell in 1748 (pp. 70, 71) are no
doubt adaptations from those well-known authorities on proverbs, Ray having
lived 1627-1704 and Howell 1594-1666.
G. L. GOMME. CASTELNAU, BARNES, S.W. April, 1884.
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xi
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(delwedd D4330) (tudalen xii)
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xii CONTENTS.
PREFACE
LISTS OK LOCAL WORDS AND SPECIMENS OF DIALECT
Grose's Provincial Dialect ...
Provincial Glossaries
The North Country Dialect
Northumberland Dialect
Provincial Words from Newcastle
Local Words used in Northumberland
Vocabulary of the Lancashire Dialect
Spenser and the East Lancashire Dialect
A List of Local Expressions
Letters in the Dialect of the Shetland Islands
Glossary to the Zetland Dialect
Anglo-Saxon Words preserved in Devonshire
Saxon Dialect of Dorsetshire
Exmoor Courtship
An Exmoor Vocabulary
Popular Names of Natural Objects PROVERBS:
Witty and Seasonable Proverbs
Anglo-Saxon Proverb
Greek Proverbs for Absurd Actions
English Proverb explained
An old Proverb illustrated from a Play in MS.
Soon Ripe soon Rotten .-
Cuckoo Proverb
PAGE V
13 15 17
21
24 28
37 39 4i 43 58 65
69
71
72
74 76 78 78
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(delwedd D4331) (tudalen xiii)
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xiii
Contents.
PAGE
PROVERBS continued.
Weather Proverbs - 79
Local Proverb - .... So
Season Proverbs - So
Round about Revess - - - - 82
Northern Proverbs - - 83
A Peck of March Dust is worth a King's Ransom - 84
Lancashire Proverb - - - 86
PROVERBIAL PHRASES:
An't Please the Pigs - - 89
Bear the Bell - 90
Cat in the Pan - - 9
Cock's Stride - 101
Cunning as Crowd cr - - - 102
Dab at Anything - - 104
Drunk as David's Sow ... 105
Eyes draw Straws - - -105
Keeling the Pot - - 106
Month's mind to it - - - icg
Nine of Diamonds the Curse of Scotland - no
Old Maids leading Apes in Hell 112
Old Nick - -112
Ploughing with Dogs - 113
Running a Muck - - 114
Sixes and Sevens - - 117
Spick and Span - - 117
Thief in a Candle - - liS
Topsy-Turvy 119
Trelawny And shall Trelawny Die - - - - 119
U. P. K. spells Goslings - 120
Wake - - 121
Wine of one Ear - - - 121
As the Devil loves Apple Dumplings - - 122
Proverbial Rhyme - ... 122
SPECIAL WORDS:
Apple of the Eye - - - 125
Aroint - - - 125
Contents.
xiii
J-AGE
SPECIAL WORDS continued.
Assassin - - 129
Beauty - -129
Bast 130
Bam fiddle 130
Cockney - 131
Cock loft - .... - 140
Country Dance - - 140 Curries ..... 140
Dandy and Dandiprat - - - 141
Drunkenness Words and Expressions for - 142
Earing - . - 146 Form ....... 147
Foy > ... 148
Gallop ..... - 149
Gore .... 149
Hitch - 150
Hunting Words 153
Lady > 154
Lurdanes - . - 155
Moise ..... - 155
Nunchion - ... - 156
Prick or Pryk - 1 58
Punishment, Words used for - 159
Puss and Grimalkin - - - 161
Spurring ... 162
Stump Pie - 163
Tarring and Feathering - 163
Corrupted Words - 164
Of Names retained when their Origin is disused - 170 Explanation of certain
Antiquated Words ... 178
Ancient Words used by Sternhold and Hopkins - 193
Yorkshire Words similar to the German - - 194
Words and Phrases of the Eighteenth Century - - 196
Compounds in the English Language - 198 Terms used at Cards
Particular Adjectives used with single Substantives 205
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(delwedd D4332) (tudalen xiv)
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xiv
Contents.
PAGB
SPECIAL WORDS continued.
Uncommon Words Describee! - - 205
Betar ... ... 206
Jew's Harp - - - - . . 207
Oreste ... ... 207
Tontine ... ... 2 c8
NAMES OF PERSONS AND PLACES:
Observations on Surnnmes - - - 213
Christian Names ... . 230
Ancient Surnames .... . 238
Surnames terminating in -cock ... - 239
New Names to Old Streets - - 241
Resemblance of the names of British Rivers 242
SIGNS OF INNS, ETC.:
On Sign Posts ... . 249
Signs of Inns - - 251
Remarks on the Devices of Tradesmen's Shops - - 312
On Ancient House Signs - -313
Old Signs in Norwich - 316
NOTES - - 325
INDEX - - 344
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(delwedd D4333) (tudalen 002)
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2
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(delwedd D4334) (tudalen 003)
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3Lists of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
LISTS OF
LOCAL WORDS AND SPECIMENS OF DIALECT.
Grose's
“Provincial Glossary."
[1790, Part /., /. 26.]
TURNING over Capt. Grose's “Provincial Glossary “some time ago, and observing
it to be far from perfect, I have since occasionally amused myself with
setting down, as they occurred to me, some provincial terms and phrases,
which I found that gentleman had overlooked; and the district in which I am
mostly resident abounds so much with these peculiarities, that, if Mr. Grose
should ever think fit to give the world another edition of his
“Glossary," I believe I could furnish him with near two hundred
Somersetisms (and to these perhaps as many more might be added), which he has
not noticed. I am likewise inclined to think, that persons versed in the
dialect of other parts of the kingdom will find the number of their
provincial words equally deficient. I imagine, also, that with the help of
Saxon and French dictionaries (and perhaps a few other books) Mr. Grose might
have given the etymology of more words than he has at present done.
This is not meant as any disparagement of the ingenious Captain's
performance: he deserves much credit for the undertaking; and, all things
considered, he has succeeded very well; he has shewn himself in this, as in
the rest of his publications, no less a diligent and industrious antiquary,
than a pleasant and lively writer; but it is next to impossible for the first
attempt at a work of this kind to be anything like complete.
In his Preface, Mr. Grose justly observes, that “the utility of a Provincial
Glossary, to all persons desirous of understanding our ancient poets, is so
universally acknowledged, that to enter into a proof of it would be entirely
a work of supererogation." However, it would perhaps be an improvement
of his plan, to subjoin to the several words, of which any could be found,
examples of their being
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(delwedd D4335) (tudalen 004)
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4 Lists of
Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
used by our elder authors, both poets and prose-writers. Shakspeare alone
will afford many such instances.
I fancy too, that the collection of “Local Proverbs," though certainly
superior to those of Fuller and Ray, might still be considerably enlarged. In
Somersetshire I have met with two, which have escaped him. One of them, being
illustrative of family history, I will here set down:
“Homer, Popharn, Wyndham, and Thynne, "When th' Abbot went out, then
they came in."
[See Note i.] D. L.
Provincial Glossaries.
[1829, Part II., pp. 315, 316.]
To the judicious remarks upon Mr. Brockett's "North-Country
Vocabulary" (reviewed, vol. xcix. pt. ii. p. 142), I beg to add a few
observations in proof of their correctness. The critic's assertion that
"the use of the Welsh tongue still restrains the inhabitants from
cordial fraternization with the English," may receive support from the
following trifling anecdote. A certain eminent lawyer, native of Wales,
travelling once through the Principality on horseback, arrived at the bank of
a rapid stream, as to the depth of which he felt some misgivings; so, perceiving
a peasant at work hard by, he called to him in English “Hallo, my friend, can
I cross here safely, do you think?" "Oh! ay," was the reply,
"you may cross there well enough." "Thank you, friend,"
returned the lawyer, in Welsh, and was proceeding, when the fellow eagerly
exclaimed, "Stop! stop! if you attempt to cross, you are sure to be
drowned: / thought you -were a Saxon."
Equally true is the observation that judges, counsel, and others, often fall
into strange mistakes, from a want of acquaintance with many of the local
words which country people, when produced as witnesses, make use of. A story
in point occurs to me, which is so current at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, that I am
rather surprised Mr. Trotter has missed it. In that town of fire and smoke,
the word chare means street, and foot is used for bottom. A native of the
place, giving evidence at the Northumberland Assizes, asserted that as he was
standing on the bridge, he saw two men come out of a chare foot. "The
fellow's a fool!" exclaimed the Judge, and would have pronounced him an
incompetent witness, had not the apparent absurdity been explained to him.
Two further instances of this kind have recently occurred in my own
neighbourhood. At the Staffordshire Translation Sessions, 1827, a shoemaker,
who was witness in some cause, while under cross-examination by Mr. Evans,
made use of the good old English word insense (viz., to inform or impart
knowledge), which led the
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(delwedd D4336) (tudalen 005)
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Provincial
Glossaries.
“learned
“counsel to be extremely witty at honest Crispin's expense. The shoemaker,
however, was justified, and the lawyer shewn his error, by a correspondent of
the Staffordshire Advertiser, who quoted the following and other passages
from Shakspeare, the meaning of which has been clean mistaken by the
commentators:
"I have
Insens'd the lords o* the council that he is A most arch heretic."
Henry VIII., Act v. Sc. I.
The lower classes in this part of the country often use the word
understanding to express the sense of hearing. At the Staffordshire Summer
Assizes, 1827, an elderly person applied to Mr. Baron Garrow to be excused
serving as a juryman, on the ground that he was “rather thick of understanding."
The learned judge, taking the expression in its London acceptation,
complimented him on his singular modesty, and said that he considered himself
bound to comply with a request founded on such a plea, though the applicant
had no doubt under-rated his powers of intellect.
As to what the reviewer says of the terms wench, maid, etc., I may observe
that among the common people in Staffordshire the words boy and girl seem
even now to be scarcely known, or at least are never used, lad and wench
being the universal substitutes. Young women also are called wenches, without
any offensive meaning, though in many parts, and especially in the
metropolis, the appellation has become one of vulgar contempt Hence I have
heard that line in Othello,
“O ill-starr'd wench, pale as thy smock!"
thus softened down to suit the fastidious ears of a London audience,
“O ill-starr'd wretch, pale as thy sheets /"
Shakspeare, with all the writers of his age, used the term wench in its
pristine acceptation of young woman; and it occurs in this sense in 2nd
Samuel, chap. xvii. ver. 1 7; but that it had sometimes a derogatory meaning,
or was rarely applied to the higher classes, may be gathered from a line in
the “Canterbury Tales":
“I am a gentil woman, and no wench."
Merchant's Tale, 10076.
See also the “Manciple's Tale," ver. 17169, Tyrwhitt's edit.
To shew that maid* once meant simply a young woman, chaste or unchaste as the
case might be, numberless proofs could be adduced; but modern usage seems to
have so restricted the sense of the word, that it is now held to be
synonymous with virgin intacta puella; and much dull pleasantry has been
expended upon those writers who have ventured to use it in its original
signification. Among others,
* Bailey thus explains the word: “A Woman, also a GirL A scornful name for a
girl or maid. A crack or w e."
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6 Lists of
Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Mr. T. Dibdin, one of whose songs in the opera of the “Cabinet," has
this passage:
"His wish obtain'd the lover blest, Then left the maid to die."
Mr. T. Moore, also, has been charged by ignoramuses with committing a bull,
because in the well-known ditty, commencing “You remember Ellen," after
saying that “William had made her his bride," he adds in a line or two
below, “Not much was the maiden's heart at ease!" So easy is it for
small wits to be mighty smart in their own conceit, upon matters which they
do not understand.
At what period the word began to be confined to its present limited
signification, I cannot precisely determine, but it probably was subsequent
to the appearance of Pope's “Iliad," since in the ist, Briseis is termed
a maid, after she has been torn from the arms of Agamemnon, and the
probability mentioned that in her old age she may be “doom'd to deck the bed
she once enjoy'd." [Bk. i. line 44.] Leaving the point to be determined
by more skilful linguists, I shall close this gossiping paper with two or
three passages from old writers of various dates, shewing beyond dispute that
to whatever meaning the word may now be restricted, its signification was
once as comprehensive as I have asserted. In the comedy called “How a Man may
choose a Good Wife from a Bad," 1602, Mistress Arthur says:
“O father, be more patient; if you wrong My honest husband, all the blame be
mine, Because you do it only for my sake: I am his handmaid"
In Ravenscroft's "Titus Andronicus," 1687, after Lavinia's husband has
been murdered, Demetrius seizes her, and exclaims:
"Now further off let's bear this trembling maid"
But perhaps a more apt instance could not possibly be adduced, than the
following passage from Whetstone's “Promos and Cassandra," 1578:
“Enter Polina, the mayde that Andrugio lov'd.
“Polina curst, what dame alyve Hath cause of griefe lyke thee, "NVho
(wonne by love) hath yeeld tlie spoyle Of thy virginity?"
The North-Country Dialect.
[1836, Part I., pp. 499, 500.]
Yorkshire has at last found a champion to rescue her emphatic dialect from
disrepute, and every North Riding man must feel himself raised in the scale
of civilized talkers, when he reads the amusing paper on English Dialects in
the last Number of the Quarterly. [See
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The
North-Coimtry Dialect.
Note 2.]
There are several curious notices of the modes of conjugating verbs in the
northern districts; but on one point, the imperative plural, the writer does
not appear fully informed. He gives Chaucer's dialogue between the Yorkshire
Scholars and the Miller of Trampington, from an uncollated MS.: one of the
clerks is made to say,
“I pray you spedes us liethen that ye may;"
and on the fourth word the Reviewer remarks, “apparently a lapsus calami for
spede" This, however, is a correct North-country form of the imperative
plural. The Northumbrian gloss on the Durham Gospels, Mark i. v. 3, gives the
warning of John the Baptist, “Gearuas Drihtnes woeg;" the common A.S.
version is “Gegearwiath Drihtnes weg." At v. 15, our Saviour says,
“Hreowiges and gelefes to th' godspell;" in the A.S. “Doth daedbote and
gelyfath tham godspelle." The religious antiquary will not fail to
observe the difference between the heart-repentance inculcated by the
Northern version, and the external religion substituted for it by the
Southern.
To cite a more modern authority: in the “Towneley Mystery, or Miracle Play,
of the Adoration of the Shepherds," Mak the Sheepstealers, endeavours,
when first introduced, to pass himself off as a Southern yeoman, and in his
assumed character addresses the Shepherds in the Southern imperative,
“Fyon you, goythe hence, Out of my presence, I must have reverence."
But after he finds himself recognised by them, he reverts to his mother
tongue, and calmly says,
Good, spekes soft
Over a
seeke woman's heede;"
and presses his hospitality on them with “Sirs, drynkes" Then we have
King Herod, the favourite hero of the miracle plays, dismissing his military
attendants to make way for the juris-consults.
11 Coys hence,
I have matters to melle With my prevey counselle."
And after the slaughter of the Innocents, he concludes with a piece of
characteristic advice to the audience:
“Sirs, this is my counselle, Bese not too cruelle."
The “Towneley Mysteries “are now in the press, and will shortly be published
under the auspices of the Surtees Society [see Note 3], accompanied by a preface
from the pen of a gentleman well acquainted
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(delwedd D4339) (tudalen 008)
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8 Lists of
Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
with the topography of the north of England. The language appears, according
to the Reviewer's nomenclature, to be a mixture of the Northumbrian and
North- Anglian dialects, though the latter is, perhaps, most apparent in the
speeches of the low-lived characters, such as Cain and his ploughboy.
Yours, etc., J. GORDON.
Northumberland Dialect. [See Note 4.] [1836, Part /., pp. 606-608.]
In an article on Provincial Dialects ( Quarterly Review, No. no), an extract
from Wageby's “Skyll-Kay of Knawinge "* is given as a sample of the
Northumbrian dialect. When the article was written, I only knew the poem from
the account and the specimens furnished by Mr. [W. J.] Walker; and though I
had reason to think that the worthy monk of Fountains Abbey was greatly
indebted to Hampole's “Pricke of Conscience," I had not then the means
of verifying my suspicions. Having since had an opportunity of inspecting two
MSS. of the latter poem, preserved in the library of Lichfield Cathedral, I
am enabled to state that the “Skyll-Kay of Knawynge," is nothing more than
a Northumbrian rifacciamento of Hampole's poem, curtailed and interpolated ad
libitum, but still the same work in substance. This process appears to have
been carried on pretty extensively in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,
insomuch that we are never sure of having a poem of that period in its
original form, unless we are so fortunate as to possess the author's
autograph.
It has occurred to me that the knowledge of this circumstance may help to
illustrate a point at present involved in a good deal of uncertainty. It
appears that the transcribers of those works not only interpolated them with
fresh matter, but in many instances accommodated them to their own dialect.
As the “Pricke of Conscience “ is one of our most common MSS., a comparison
of many different copies, especially when the date and place of transcription
can be ascertained, may greatly enlarge our knowledge of the limits and
distinguishing characteristics of the provincial dialects of this country, as
they existed in the fourteenth and following centuries. I shall therefore
give a brief account of the copies which have come under my notice, and shall
feel obliged to any of your readers who will communicate such information as
they possess on the subject.
I have no data for fixing the precise age of the two Lichfield MSS.; I
conjecture the older to be of the beginning of the fifteenth century; the
other, forty or fifty years later. The one which I call, for the
* “An account of a manuscript of ancient English poetry, entitled ' Clavis
Scientiae, or Bretayne's Skyll-Kay of Knawing,' by John de Wageby, Monk of
Fountains Abbey." 8vo., Lond., 1816, pp. 17 (only 50 copies printed).
[See Note 5.]
Northumberland
Dialect.
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(delwedd D4340) (tudalen 009)
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sake of
distinction, MS. A. is in the form of a small quarto, and consists at present
of 109 folios, the concluding one having been cut out. It is on vellum, in a
small but distinct character, with few contractions, and rubricated titles
and initials. The second, or MS. ., is bound up together with some tracks of
St. Anselm, and occupies 155 leaves. It is elaborately written, in a large
bold hand, greatly resembling the black letter of our early typographers, and
appears to be perfect. No author's name is given in either; but in the
peroration of both we are told
“Prickke of conscience yis* bok is i-hote."
I subjoin an extract from each, which your readers may compare with the
corresponding passage given by Warton from the Ashmole MS. with which, as Mr.
Price observes, the Lansdowne substantially agrees:
MS. A. Fol. 2:
For of alle yat god made bothe more and lesse
Man is most pryncipal and schal alle othre passe;
As zet schul here afterward sone,
Yat al yat he made wes for man a lone.
God to mannys kynde adde gret delyt,
Qwan he ordenyt for mannys profyt,
Hevene and erthe and al ye word a brod,
And al other thyng, and man to laste ende a bod,
And hym in his liknesse in cely stature,
As hym yat was most worthy creature,
Over alle other bestes qweche haven kynde,
And zaf hem wyth resoun and mende,
Evere for to knowyn boye god and ille,
And yar to god zaf hem with yat wille,
Bothen for to chese and for to holde
Good or evel, qweder yey wolde.
And also god ordenyt man for to dwelle
And for [to] leve in erthe, in flesch and felle,
And for to knowe hese werkys and hym to honoure,
And hese hestes for to kepen in everyche owre,
And if he to god buxum be come,
To ye blisse of hevene he schal be nome.
MS. B. fol. 2:
[JMannes kynde is to folowe godes wylle, And hys comandementes to fulfylle.]
* The character y, in this and similar cases, is to be considered as
equivalent to the Saxon h, th.
f The letter z represents the Saxon j. J Omitted in MS. A.
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(delwedd D4341) (tudalen 010)
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io Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
For of alle y l god made eyer mor or lasse, Man most woryy creature ysse. All
y l he made was for man y-done, As ze schal here aftur warde sone. God to
mannes kynde hath grete love, Whan he ordynede to mannes by hove Hevene and
erthe and all the worlde brode, And, of alle thynges, man laste he made To
hys lyknes [in] semely stature; And made hym most worthy creature Of other
creatures of alle kynde, And zaf hym w l skyle and mynde. For to knowe both
gowd and evelle, And ther w l he zaf hyme a fre wylle. For to chese and for
to holde Goude other evelle, wether he wolde. And also he ordynede man to
dwelle And lyve in erthe, bothe w 1 flech and felle, And knowe his werkys and
hym werchepe, And his comandementes to kepe; And zyfe he be to hym goud and
boxome, To endeles blysse atte laste to come.
On comparing the above with each other and with the passage given by Warton,
it will appear that the Lichfield MS. A. exhibits the most ancient text. The
poetry is more rude and inartificial, and the orthography and diction more
antiquated. In B. the lines are frequently recast, and the archaisms replaced
by more familiar expressions. There is also a considerable number of
interpolations, amounting in some instances to twenty lines in the hundred,
or a full fifth part. The Ashmole MS. appears to correspond with B. line for
line in substance, but differs materially in expression, and is evidently the
most modern of the three.
There is internal evidence that the text of B. was formed from that of A., or
one greatly resembling it. A portion of the former (fol. 83 to 92) is
transcribed in a different hand, and in an orthography approximating to that
of the latter. Qwat, qweche, qware: qwanne are employed instead of what,
whuche, etc.; en, or the somewhat uncommon form //, is substituted for the
usual plural in th: e. gr. 3rd pers. pi. shullen, or shuln, havit, dwellit, dredit,
etc. The phraseology also more closely resembles that of A.; in short, all
this portion appears to have been copied by one less ambitious of improving
upon his original, than his fellow-transcriber.
Warton observes that the Bodleian MSS. exhibit an older text than the
Ashmolean. The extracts which he gives agree pretty closely with the
corresponding passages in A.; the discrepancies being chiefly
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(delwedd D4342) (tudalen 011)
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Northumberland
Dialect. 1 1
dialectical and orthographical. To place the matter in a clearer light, I
subjoin a tetraplar version of the description of the heavenly Jerusalem.
Bodleian text, ap. Warton:
This citie is y-set on an hei hille,
That no synful man may therto tille;
The whuche ich likne to beril clene,
Ac so fayr berel may non be y-sene.
Thulke hyl is nougt elles to understondynge,
But holi thugt and desyr brennynge,
The whuche holi men hadde heer to that place,
Whiles hi hadde on eorthe here lyves space;
And i likne, as y-may ymagene in my thougt,
The walles of hevene to walles that were y-wrougt
Of all maner preciouse stones, y-set y-fere,
And y-semented with gold brigt and clere;
Bot so brigt gold ne non so clene
Was in this worlde never y-sene. Lichfield MS. A. fol. 107-8:
This cete is set on an hey hille,
Yat no synful man may cum yer tille;
The qweche i likned to berel clene,
But so fayr berel may non be sene.
Yat hil is not else to understonge, (sic)
But holy yout and desyr brennynge,
Ye queche holy men han her had to yt place,
Whyl yei haddyn on erde here lytel space,
And i likne as i may ymagen in my thout,
Ye walls of hevene to the walls that weryn wrougt
Of all maner precyous stonys set in fere,
And symentid with gold bryt and clere;
But so bryt gold ne non so clene
In all this werd is no qwer sene. MS. B. fol. 1 86:
Yis cyte is yset on an hye hulle,
Yt no synful man may yerto telle;
Ye wuch I lykne to beryl clene,
And so fayr beral may non be sene.
Yulke hulle ys nouzt elles to understonde (sic)
Bote holy youzt and desyr brennyng.
Ye wuch holy men hadde her to y* place
Whyles hy hadde on erth here lyve space.
And I lykene as I ymagyne in my thouzt
Ye walles of hevene y l (sic) to walles y l were y-wrouzt
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(delwedd D4343) (tudalen 012)
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12 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Of alle manere precyous stones yset yfere, And ysemented wt gold bryzt and
clere; Bot so bryzt gold ne non so clene Was never in ys wordle [sic] ysene.
John de Wageby, ap. Walker:
This cyte es sett on swa heghe a hyll, That na synfull man may wynne
thartill; Swa clene here was never seen to syght, The whylk sail seme all of
beryl bryghL That hyll may be, to my understandyng, Holy thoght and byrnande
yhernyng, That haly men. hade to that stede, While they luffed here by, for
thar dede. All the walles are of stanes sere, Sementyde with gold bryght and
clere; Bot swa bryght gold and swa clene Was never nane in this werlde sene.
The language of the last extract seems to be of the fifteenth century: its
decided Northern character needs not to be pointed out more particularly. Of
the others, it may be observed that Warton's Bodleian MSS. and Lichfield MS.
B. strongly resemble each other in orthography and dialectical forms. Both
exhibit something of a Western character; though less strongly marked than
Robert of Gloucester. The Lansdowne text is evidently modernised, but still
preserves traces of a Mercian origin.
The Lichfield MS. A. differs considerably in verbal forms from the others,
though it exhibits substantially the same text as the Bodleian copies. The
infinitives and plurals in en, may be regarded as Mercian; in other respects
it appears to be tinctured with Middle Anglian. I conceive it might be
written in Derbyshire or West Leicestershire; but I would not undertake to
pronounce positively respecting this matter without further evidence than I
can at present command.
Yours, etc., EBORACENSIS.
P.S. I beg to thank Mr. Gordon (p. 499) for his valuable remarks on the
ancient Northumbrian form of the imperative plural in es. I had observed its
occurence in Havelok; but at that time supposed it to belong to the Midland
dialect. I have since met with several examples of its use in Northumbrian
compositions of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and have not the
least doubt of its being a genuine form. All who take an interest in this
branch of our literature will be rejoiced to see the Towneley Mysteries. For
my part, I
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(delwedd D4344) (tudalen 013)
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Provincial
Words from Newcastle. 13
am fully convinced that neither the grammar nor the etymology of our language
will be thoroughly understood till all existing monuments of this class have
been carefully analysed.
Provincial
Words from Newcastle.
[1794, Part I., pp. 13, 14.]
Some years ago, when the plan of Mr. Croft's Dictionary was laid before the
public in your magazine [see Note 6], I thought it might be enriched with
many unpublished words which are in daily circulation in the town where I was
born. At that time I began a vocabulary, which I now send you, and have no
doubt but that I could have made considerable additions to it if I had been
still resident at Newcastle-uponTyne. The peculiar pronunciation of that
place is said to have been derived from the Danes, who settled there before
the Conquest. That the natives of Northumberland, in many of their words, and
in the method of pronouncing them, bear a strong resemblance to the present
natives of Denmark and Norway, needs no other argument but comparison.
Professor Thorkelin, of Copenhagen, has given a vocabulary of words common to
the Scotch, Icelanders, and Danes.* From these I have selected such as are
common also to the natives of Newcastle, and added them to my own list.
Though I send the words, I do not pretend to point out their derivation; but
apprehend that they will all, or the greater part of them, be found in the
ancient Saxon, or in the languages of the present Northern kingdoms.
Professor Thorkelin's words are marked in the following list with a star.
Cranks, two or more rows of iron crooks in a frame, used as a toaster.
Pant, a fountain.
Chare, a narrow street or alley.
Prog, to prick.
Clarty, wet, slippery, and dirty.
Clag, to stick.
Yetlin, a small iron pan with a bow handle and three feet.
Grozer, a gooseberry.
Girdle, a round iron plate with a bow handle, for baking.
Click, to catch hold of.
Canny, an epithet of approbation.
Caller, fresh and cool.
Vennel, a kennel or watercourse.
Snech, a latch to a door.
- f See [A.] Swinton's Travels [into Norway, Denmark, and Russia in the years
1788-1791. London: 1792: see Appendix, pp. 497-506.].
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(delwedd D4345) (tudalen 014)
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14 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Mun, Sir! probably for, Man! Cracker, a small baking dish, Smasher, a small
raised fruit pie. Spelk, a splinter of wood. Dean, a dale or valley.
Weeze, a wisp of straw or soft wool to put under a weight on the head.
Skeel, a wooden pail.
Grime, black, sooty.
Dother, to tremble.
Staith, a storehouse for coals where ships are loaded.
Keel, a coal-barge or boat.
Puy, a pole to push forward a keel.
Swape, a long oar instead of a rudder to a keel.
Lum, chimney of a cottage.
Lum-sweepers, chimney-sweepers.
Father, a cart of coals, containing bushels.
Waits, a band of musicians.
Houglur, the public whipper, etc., of criminals.
Beatment, a measure.
Kenting, ditto.
Corf, a wicker basket for coals at the colliery.
Marrow, a companion.
Cou'p, to overturn, to exchange.
Smash, to break in pieces.
Stramp, to tread or stamp upon.
A gad, a fishing-rod.
Sweel, when the tallow of a candle runs.
Swill, a round wicker basket.
Broach, a breast-buckle, spire of a church.
* Bairn, barn, a child.
*Bawk, balk, a beam.
*Bit, little; Dan. bitte smaa; Phrase, a little bit.
Bicker, a tumbler glass.
*Becker, a wooden dish.
* Blather, bladder.
*Burn, a rivulet.
*Fell, a more, gateshead fell.
* 'Flicker, flitter, to vibrate like the wings of small birds.
*Fur, a furrow, rig and fur.
*Gar, Iceland. Germ, to force one to do any thing.
* Gimmes, an ewe from one to two years old.
Hag, a mist.
*Hag, a sink or mire in mosses or moors.
*Loup, to leap; Iceland, hluap and laup.
*Nowie, horned cattle; Iceland, naut; Dan. noet and noot.
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Provincial
Words from Newcastle. 1 5
*Reek, or rack, smoke.
Racking-crook, a crane or crook over the fire.
*Sark, shirt
* Smack, to kiss, to taste; Iceland, ee smacki; Dan. smaga. Stour, dust
*Smoored, Dan. smored, anointed, smeared.
Smoored, smothered, suffocated.
*Slot, a young bullock; Dan. an stoud.
*Swinge, to beat, to whip.
Swinging, large, a swinging fellow.
*Toom, teum, or fume, empty.
Tote, whole; the whole tote, phrase.
* Wair, to lay out money, expend.
* Wyte, to blame; to lay the whole wyte on you, phrase. Yule, Christmas; a
yule cake, a Christmas cake.
In Mr. Brand's History of Newcastle, amongst other places, he mentious the
Stock-bridge; and, in a note, enquires, Quaere, Whether the name be derived
from selling stock-fish there? I should think myself obliged to any of your
ingenious correspondents if they would inform me whether the word stock, or
stoke, be not derived from the Saxon, and signifies town or village. There
are many places in this kingdom which have this syllable in the beginning of
their names, as Stockport, Stockton, Stockbridge; and, again, Stokenchurch,
Stoke-uponTrent, etc.; I should, therefore, suppose, that the stock-bridge
was so called from the houses or town which were placed near the bridge.
A SON OF THE TYNE.
Local Words
used in Northumberland.
[1794, Part L, p. 216.]
A Son of the Tyne favoured your readers with a vocabulary of words used by
the natives of Northumberland; in some of which, I think, he has mistaken the
meaning. I therefore take the liberty of sending my explication of them; and
also, of adding a few more words in the Son of the Tyne's vocabulary:
Pant, a fountain. No. Pant signifies the cistern, which receives the
waste-water falling therefrom.
Snech, a latch to the door. It should be wrote sneck, being pronounced hard.
Smasher, a small raised fruit-pie. No. It signifies any thing larger than
common. If there were two or three pies upon a table, of different sizes, the
largest of them would be called a smasher.
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(delwedd D4347) (tudalen 016)
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1 6 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Skeel, a wooden pail. With this difference, the diameter of a skeel at the
top and bottom are the same.
Staith, a storehouse for coals. No. Staith, wharf.
Reek, smoke.
Racking-crook, a crane or crook over the fire. It should be reekingcrook, as
hanging in the reek or smoke.
ADDITIONAL WORDS.
Slot, a bolt of a door.
Pigg* n > a small wooden milk measure, holding near a pint. Laggins,
staves.
ffuck, a crook, a sickle for cutting corn. Aud, old. Stahan, stone.
Huph, a measure for corn, or any dry goods. Poke, sack. Yaad, a horse. Why, a
yearling cow. Gulley, a knife. Jack-a-legs, a clasp-knife. Lonnen, a bye-road
or lane.
Shinney, a stick rounding at one end, to strike a small wooden bowl with.
Shinney-hab, a game so called.
Futher, a large cart of coals.
Cope, to change one thing for another.
If I were to hazard my opinion, Mr. Urban, upon the query in Mr. Brand's
“History of Newcastle," viz., whether the name (Stockbridge) be derived
from selling stock-fish there, it would be, that it certainly derived its
name from a matter of greater consequence. I rather suppose the bridge took
its name from the stock or castle, which passed over it to the market near
thereto, appropriated for that purpose.
A SON OF THE WERE.
Newcastle
Dialect.
[1794, Part I., p. 529.]
In your Magazine for January you inserted a letter of mine, containing a
vocabulary of local words used in and about Newcastleupon-Tyne. A
correspondent, signing himself A Son of the Were, thinks that I have mistaken
the meaning of some of them. As I do not think myself infallible, I shall not
defend all my definitions, but
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(delwedd D4348) (tudalen 017)
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Local
Words used in Northumberland. 17
only remark, that some of his corrections relate principally to errors of the
press; such as the word sneck, etc. With respect to the word smasher, whoever
has been a pupil of the worthy Mr. Moises, at the head-school, Newcastle,
during the life-time of Nancy Larmer, of pie-Jwuse memory, will need no other
definition than that I have given in my vocabulary. The additional words
mentioned by the Son of the Were are more in use upon the banks of his river
than of mine; a very few of them only can be called peculiar to Newcastle,
though the whole number may be understood in different parts of the Northern
counties.
I may remark, farther, that there is an essential difference in the dialect
between Newcastle and other parts of Northumberland. A stranger perhaps, may
not be sensible of this; but a native will soon perceive that both words and
pronunciation differ. The Scotch accent and expression pervade those parts
which border upon Scotland; but, though the language of both is guttural,
that of Newcastle alone is purely Danish.
A correspondent in your Magazine for March mentions the custom of decorating
wells; and enquires whether there are any other wells, besides those in his
account, which are accustomed to be so ornamented. Near Newcastle, on the
road to Benton, in my younger years, I have often observed a well with rags
and tattered pieces of cloth hung upon the bushes around it. It is known, I
presume, still, by the name of The Rag-well. For the origin of this custom,
as well as for a farther account of the rag-well, I refer your correspondent
to Brand's “Popular Antiquities," p. 85.
While my pen is in my hand, I feel an inclination to add one solution more to
the many you have already given us of the proverb of dining with Dttke
Humphrey. When I resided in Oxford, it was generally understood to have this
meaning: Every Oxford-man, at least, knows that the Bodleian Library was
originally founded by Humphrey Duke of Gloucester. When a student continued
in the library during the hours of dinner, at which times it was, and is,
usual to be shut up, he was said to dine with Duke Humphrey.
A SON OF THE TYNE.
Vocabulary
of the Lancashire Dialect. [See Note 7.]
[1746, pp. 527,528.]
We have received a DIALOGUE, in the Lancashire Dialect, but as the
peculiarity of it consists chiefly in a corrupt pronunciation of known words
with few originals, and as the subject is dry and unentertaining, we shall
only give a Vocabulary of all the provincial real words, with some of the
corruptions, as a specimen; and add a few lines of the performance. [See Note
8.J
2
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(delwedd D4349) (tudalen 018)
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1 8 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Feggur, fairer, or free from rain.
fettle, dress, case, condition.
Feersu?is-een, shrovetide.
Firrups, a kind of imprecation.
Flaight, a kind of light turf.
Flay'd, frighted.
Foo-goud, a bauble, plaything.
Fussock, a fat or idle person.
Gaight, gave it.
Gaunt, empty-bellied, lean.
Gawby, a dunce, or fool.
Gawmblt, play'd the fool.
Gawm, understand, comprehend.
Gawmless, senseless, stupid.
Geh, give.
Gin, given, or gave.
Glooar, stare.
Gonnor, gander.
Gooa, go.
Greadley, well, handsomely.
Greawnd, ground.
Greeofor greeof-by, right, or very
near right. Greumt, grey-hound. Gurd <?' leawghing, fit of laughter.
Hackt, knock'd together. Han, have. Harstone, a hearth. Heit, have it. Het,
q. hight, named. Hoh, hall. Hont, hand. Hoc, she. Hod's, she is. Hoor, she
was. Hough, foot How, whole. Howd or howt, hold. Hiid, covered, secretly.
Hure, hair. Id, he had. Iddn, you had. In, than, or if. In eh, if I.
y/7/<?, if thou wilt. Innin, if you will. Into, if thou.
A Shelf,
likely, probable.
Bagging-time, baiting-time.
Bandy fiewit, a little dog.
Basturtly-gullion, a bastard's bastard.
Battril, batting-staff, used by laundresses.
Beleakins, probably, By our Lady! An interjection.
Ber, force, violence.
Bigging, a building.
Boggurt, a spirit.
Boadle, half a farthing.
Boyrn, to wash.
Brad, spread, opened.
Brastit, burste.
Breed, frightened.
Bross'n, burst.
Cawd, called.
Cawn, call.
Cawer, sit, or stoop down.
Charrd, stopp'd, hindred.
Clemnfd, famish'd, starved.
Cluttert, gathered on heaps.
CobVd, threw.
Deashon, kneading-trough.
Deawmp, dumb.
Deeing, dying.
Dickons, an imprecation.
Dythert, quaked, trembled.
Doage, wettish, a little wet.
Donk, wettish.
Dree, long, tedious.
Dule, devil.
Ealt, ailed.
Eend-wey, forwards.
Eem, leisure.
Efeath, in faith.
Eh, he, in, I, you.
Estid, instead.
Ettercrops, spiders.
Farrantly, likely, handsome.
Fain, fall.
Fawse, false, cunning, or subtle.
Pease, face.
Fere, fair, fare, or cheer; sometimes directly, or downright.
Vocabidary
of the Lancashire Dialect. 1 9
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7V, I was.
1st, I shall, or I shou'd.
Jannock, a kind of loaf bread,
made of oatmeal, leaven'd. Jump, a coat. Keather, cradle. Keem, to comb.
Kele, place, circumstance. Kersun, Christian. Kersmuss, Christmas. Ko, quoth.
Le, let. Ledey, lady.
Leete, let go, to give liberty. Lennock, slender, pliable. LiKt\ likely to
have done. Line, layn.
Least, loosed, or lowest. Lone, lane. Luff, love. Mar, to spoil.
Marry, a common interjection. Matturt, signify 'd. Maundring, walking
stupidly. Meeterly, indifferent. Meet-shad, exceeding. Meh, me, or my. Mexon,
to clean or cleanse. Mey, make. Mich go deet <?', much good may
it do you.
Midding-puce, a sink or sewer. Miss, mass.
Moother, mother, dame. Moofn, might have done. Mowdyivarp, a mole. Nese,
nose.
Ninney-hommer, a natural Nother, neither. Oandurth, afternoon. Gather,
either. Ouoon, above. Obunnunze, abundance. Odd, an interjection. Off ' af
side, mad, delirious. Oforc, before.
Ogreath,
well, right. On, on, and, an, off. Orreawt, without, out of doors. Ost, as
the, as it, offered. Ossing, assaying, offering. Of, at, that. Other-gets,
other sort. Ots, that is. Otteh, that I. Ottle, that thou will. Owd-nick, the
devil. Oytchbody, every one. Phippunny, five-penny. Piss-motes, ants. Pickle,
condition. I Pleck, a place.
;/, pull'd.
P. ist, praised.
Preo, \
Prey y a, } P ra 7 >' ou
Purrd,
kicked.
Pynots, magpyes.
Rachdaw, Rochdale.
Rank, wrong.
Rick, to gingle, or make a noise.
Rindle, mriggot, channel or gutter.
Rook, an heap.
Rotfn, a rat.
Rush-berring, a country wake.
Sark, a shirt.
Saiigh, a kind of willow.
Sau'f, salt.
Sconce, a lantern.
Scrawming, climbing awkwardly.
Seech, seek.
Seete owey, set out.
Seign, seven.
SclFn, self.
Sen, say.
Seroh, Sarah.
Shad, over-did, excell'd.
Shipfin, a cow-house.
Shooder, \ , , , t . 7 ., , ' > shoulder. Shildiir, \
Shoo, shovel or spade. Shoon, shoes.
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(delwedd D4351) (tudalen 020)
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2O Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Shuntut,
moved, stirred. Sic /i, such. Sin, since. Singlet, a waistcoat. Size, six.
Skrike d dey, break of day. Slifter, a crevice. Slop, a pocket.
Sniff, a moment, very quickly. Snig, an eel. Sope, a sup, very little. Sowd,
sold. Soyn, soon. Sper^d, enquired. Stark, extream, stift. Staivturt, reeled.
Steels, stiles. Steigh, a ladder. Sfoo, a stool. Stoop, a stump of a tree.
Stoar, value. Stoart, valued. Stouni, stolen.
Strackt, quite mad, thorowly. Strey, straw.
Strushon, destruction, waste. Suse, six. Swop, exchange. Sy'd, rained fast.
Sye, to put milk, etc., thro' a sieve; also to be exceeding wet. Ta, to a.
Tat, that.
Team, they were.
Teaw'r, thou were.
7>, thy, they, the.
Thearn, they were.
TJieawst, thou shall
77, than.
ThinKn, think.
Threave, twenty-four.
Throtteen, thirteen.
Thoos'n, those will.
Thwittle, a sort of knive [sic].
J 1 //, a horse, or mare.
Tite, as
well, or handsome.
Tizeday, Tuesday.
Tone, the one.
Too-Too, exceeding.
Tow'd, told.
Toyne, shut.
Toynt, is shut.
Tummus d Ruchat d Margit d RoapJts, q. Thomas of Richard's of Margaret of Ralph's.
Used to distinguish persons, where there are many of the same name in the
same neighbourhood.
Tup, a ram.
Tuppence, two-pence.
* Twur, it were.
Tyney, diminutive.
Unbethowt, remembered.
Uphowd-teh, uphold it thee.
Uphowd o\ uphold it you.
Wanfn, want.
Warcht, ach'd.
Ward, world.
Waughish, qualmish.
Weaughing, barking.
Ween, we have.
Weet, wet, with it.
Weh, with.
Welly, wel-nigh.
Welkin, the sky.
Wetur-tawms, water-qualms, sickfits.
Whackert, quaked, trembled.
Whau, why, well, an interjection.
IVheawtit, whistled.
Whick, quick, alive.
Whinnit, neighed.
Whoavt, covered over.
WJioam, home.
Wimmey, with me,
Win, will.
Winnaiv, will not.
Wonst, once.
Woo, wool.
Wooans, lives, dwells.
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(delwedd D4352) (tudalen 021)
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Vocabulary
of the Lancashire Dialect. 1 1
Woode, mad. Y earth, earth. Wry?wt, to shead wrynot, is to Yigh, yea, yes.
outdo the devil. Yo, you.
Wudyid'n, wish you wou'd. Yoan, you will.
Wur, was. YoacTn, you wou'd.
Yeasing, eave of a house. K?r/, a yard. Yeat, a gate.
SPECIMEN OF THE LANCASHIRE DIALECT.
M. Odds- fish! boh that wur breve 1 wou'd I'd bin eh yore
Kele.
T. Whau, whau, boh theawst hear It wur o dree wey too-to;
heawe'er I geet there be suse o'clock, on before eh opp'nt dur, I covert Nip
with th' cleawt, ot eh droy meh nese weh, t'let him see
heaw I stoart her: Then I opp'nt dur; on what te dule dust
think, boh three little tyney Bandyheivits coom weaughing os if th' little
ewals wou'd o worrit me, on after that swallut me whick: Boh presontly there
coom o fine wummon; on I took her for a hoo justice, hoor so meety fine: For
I heard Ruchott o 1 Jack's tell meh meastor, that hoo justices awlus did th'
mooast o'th' wark: Heawe'er I axt hur if Mr. justice wur o whoam; hoo cou'd
na\v opp'n hur meawth t' sey eigh, or now; boh simpurt on sed iss (the
dikkons iss hur on him too) Sed I, I wuddid'n tell him I'd sene speyk to him.
Spenser and the East Lancashire Dialect.
[1867, Fart /., pp. 207, 208.]
The biographers of Edmund Spenser state that after he had taken his degree at
Cambridge, he retired for some time into the North of England, and resided
with his friends. During this sojourn he composed his “Shepheardes
Calendar," and tradition says that this was done at what is now a
farm-house, near Hurstwood, once the residence of a branch of the Towneleys.
The dialect of this part of East Lancashire is somewhat peculiar; inasmuch as
it contains a large admixture of words derived from the Danes and Northmen,
who conquered and colonised this portion of the county of Lancashire. I
therefore examined the “Calendar" with a view of ascertaining whether
any peculiarities of the dialect could be detected, and I soon found abundant
proof that Spenser's countrymen and shepherds made a liberal use of the East
Lancashire dialect. A somewhat hasty perusal furnished the following list;
only two or three of the terms in which are to be found in the South
Lancashire dialect as given by Collier (Tim Bobbin), Bamford, Heywood and
Picton. [See Note 9.]
List of words at present in use in East Lancashire, all of which occur in
Spenser's "Shepheardes Calendar":
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(delwedd D4353) (tudalen 022)
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22 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
T. Brag= to boast; "he'sallusbraggin." N.B. The Lancashire dialect
has no final g, when pronounced by natives.
2. Balk = to hinder; “he balked him."
3. Brent = brunt = burnt, as by fire.
4. Carking= complaining, finding fault.
5. Chaffered = bargained; “chaffered for it."
6. Conna = cannot.
7. Crank= lively, well; "as crank as ever."
8. <7<///a?=Cuthbert; “Kester o' Kuddys."
9. Daffadowndillies = daffodils, yellow flag.
10. Doleing= crying, with a low wail.
11. Gang=io go; “t' back parlor bell rings; Billy, gang ye."
12. Gate=roa.d, way, river-course; "going agate wi' him."
13. Greeting= whining like a dog.
14. Haveour= behaviour, good manners; "make thi haveour
to em."
15. Kirk church, as church-kirk.
16. Lever= liefre = rather; "ayd lever go."
17. Lig\\g = \.Q lie down.
18. Melled meddled = touched; “he melled on me."
19. Mickle=s\zo.; “whot a mickle he is."
20. Mizzle to rain slowly, to leave a company one by one.
21. JVarre=r\a.r= nearer; "a nar road."
22. /Vr^=peark= brisk, lively; "he's as peark as a robbin."
23. Quick wick = alive; “it's wick yet."
24. Smirk= smart, nice, smiling; "he smirked away like a fop."
25. Snebbe=lo snub = to insult.
26. Stc/i = such; “sich a gettin up-stairs."
27. Sic suchlike, the same as before.
28. Sithens= since then; “I've nod bin sithens."
29. 277>=each one; “I love thilk lass."
30. Theu<ed= man aged, contrived.
31. Tickle = easily let off; “it's as tickle as a mause-trap."
32. Tooting = looking slyly about
33. Totty trembling, half drunk.
34. Wend=\.Q go, to travel slowly.
35. Wimble = brisk, lively, moving rapidly about; “he's us wimble
us a hummobee."
36. Woode= crazy, mad.
To these might be added, "Kenst=knowest thou?" "Yond = out
there;" "Chips = small pieces of wood or paper;" and many more
I therefore think that here is another strong argument in favour of the
conjecture that the poet Spenser was resident in, and most probably a native
of, East Lancashire. The illustrations which I have ventured to give of the
peculiar meaning of some of the terms,
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(delwedd D4354) (tudalen 023)
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Spenser
and the East Lancashire Dialect. 23
do not occur in the “Shepheardes Calendar," but the poet uses them in
the same sense. I am, etc.,
T. T. WILKINSON, F.R.A.S.
[1867, Part /., pp. 501, 502.]
In your February number is opened the discussion of an interesting subject to
Lancashire men, and I am sure most of us would be pleased if your
correspondent succeeded in his purpose of showing “that Spenser was for some
time a resident in, if not a native of, this county."
I am afraid, however, that we shall have to wait for other evidence than such
as that which he has adduced in his letter. Before his argument can have any
weight, he must show that the use of the words which he cites was confined to
East Lancashire in Spenser's time. Even then, as he admits, it can only be
used as presumptive and corroborative testimony, since it will not itself be
admitted as a proof of what is at present only a probability. That their use
was so confined, I think very doubtful. In the first place, many of them are
of frequent occurrence in Chaucer's writings, and those of his
contemporaries; for instance:
Brennc=\.Q burn. Melle-iQ meddle
Chaffare=\.o bargain (also used 7Va;T=near
as a noun). Quik = alive.
Dole = grief (akin to Fr. deuil). Snibbe\.Q snub.
Gate = a way. Sitfan = s\\.h = since.
Grete, for grede = to cry. Totty = dizzy.
Leve= desire, inclination. lend=\.o go.
Ligge=\.o lie down. Wode= wood = mad.
Had the use of these become peculiar to Lancashire during the two centuries
between the periods when Chaucer and Spenser wrote? It is very improbable. I
have not had time to investigate the matter so carefully as is desirable, but
I think many of the words in question were (so far as my recollection serves
me) used by our poet's more immediate predecessors and successors. Sir J.
Wyatt died about thirty years before the publication of the "Shepheardes
Calendar" [1579], and in his poems two of them at least are to be found
viz., “brenning" and “narre":
“Fain would ye find a cloud Your ' brenning ' fire to hide."
“Your sighs you fetch from far,
And all to wry your woe,
Yet are ye ne'er the ' narre,'
Men are not blinded so."
Shakspeare, who immediately followed Spenser, employs many of
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(delwedd D4355) (tudalen 024)
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24 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
them. Is it likely that in every instance he borrowed them from him? Thus, in
All's Well, Act iv., Sc. 3:
"Men are not to ' mell ' with, Boys are not to kiss."
In Coriolanus, Act iii., Sc. i:
“Cor. Why, this was known before. Bru. Not to them all. Cor. Have you
informed them 'sithence '?"
In Measure for Measure, Act iv., Sc. 3:
"For my poor self, I am combined with a sacred vow, and must be absent.
' Wend ' you with the letter."
And in Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii., Sc. 3:
"Launce. Now come I to my mother. O would that she could speak now like
a ' wood ' woman. “
I have no doubt that a little research would confirm more fully what I have
been endeavouring to establish i.e., that the use of these words was not
confined to Lancashire in Spenser's age. Even if it was, this would be no
proof of the theory, since Spenser's fondness for words which even in his day
were antiquated is well known; and many of these, as I have shown, were
current two hundred years before.
In the hope that the question of the truth or otherwise of your correspondent's
theory may be more fully discussed, I am, etc.,
WILLIAM A. PART.
A List of
Local Expressions.
[1793, Part II., pp. 1083, 1084.]
As a knowledge of local expressions may frequently be of service in critical
inquiries, and is at least a matter of curiosity, the following list is at
your service. You may depend on its authenticity; a circumstance which ought
always to be examined in information of this kind; since, either for want of
frequent inquiries about the same word, or through the dishonourable fiction
of little wits, there is reason to suppose that many errors have been
admitted into vocabularies of this kind.
Aunt. It is common in Cornwall to call all elderly persons Aunt or Uncle,
prefixed to their names. The same custom is said to prevail in the island of
Nantucket, in North America. In some parts of England Gammer and Gaffer are
said to be used in the same manner.
Anunt. Opposite to. Gloucestershire.
A Custis. A schoolmaster's ferula. North of Cornwall.
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(delwedd D4356) (tudalen 025)
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A List of
Local Expressions. 25
dome. Earthen-ware; and a dome shop; and a clomen oven, and the like. General
through Devonshire.
Cawch. A nasty place. Nastiness. Devonshire. In other places called a mess.
A Donkey, or A Dicky. An ass. Essex and Suffolk. The colliers of Kingswood
call the same animal a Neddy-ass, but more usually a Neddy.
Dry. Thirsty. Somerset. So in Latin:
“Siccus, inanis sperne cibum vilem."
HOR. [Serin, lib. ii., sat. 2, line 15].
Called Home. Asked in church by banns; and this, either first, second, or
third time. King's Sedgemoor.
To Do?i, and To Doff. To put on, and put off, the cloaths.
Dull. Hard of hearing. Somerset.
An Errish. A stubble-field. Devon.
A Fescue, pronounced also Vester. A pin, or point, with which to teach
children to read. Cornwall. Probably a corruption of Versecue; Verse being
vulgarly pronounced all through the West, Vess.
A Gout. An under-ground drain of a house or street. Camden mentions this word
as peculiar to Bristol in his (Queen Elizabeth's) time. Gowtes and gutteres
occur in two deeds (dated 1472 and 1478) in the collection of deeds belonging
to the library of Bristol. It is still the only word used in that city.
To gorgey. To shake. Lookee, how our chimney do gorgey with the wind. King's
Sedgemoor. The original is, probably, to gorge; it being common in Somerset
to add a y to numberless words, such as to droppy, etc.
A Good-day. A holiday. Staffordshire.
A pair of Jemmies. Hinges. Minehead.
Lary. Empty. Devon.
A Lyncher. A border of grass, left to divide property in a ploughed
common-field. Sedgemoor.
The Leach-road. The path by which a funeral is carried to church. Somerset
and Devon. It often deviates from the high road, and even from any path now
in use; in which case the country people will break down the hedges, rather
than pass by an unhallowed way.
To Lumper. To stumble, as a horse. Sedgemoor.
To Mooch. To play truant, to stay from school. Bristol.
Mazed. Deranged in mind. Cornwall. Mazed Bet Parkin, a woman well known in
Padstow some thirty years since. Perhaps some of your correspondents may have
made the same observation as myself, that there were a surprising number of
persons of that description along the North coast of Devon and Cornwall.
Moiled. Troubled, fatigued. Sedgemoor.
Nan? A vulgar expression in the West of England, particularly
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(delwedd D4357) (tudalen 026)
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26 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
in Gloucestershire, which means what do you say? Ha, or Hai, is commonly used
for the same. In the neighbourhood of Sedgemoor, say, ma'am say, sir, is very
common.
Nes/i. Soft, tender. It is applied to the health, and means delicate
Somerset.
A Peel. A pillow. Somerset and Devon.
Pillum. Dirt. Devon.
A Picksey. A fairy. Somerset, Devon, and Cornwall Pickseyled, bewildered, led
astray, particularly in the night, by a Jack-alantern, which is believed to
be the work of the Picksies.
A Plough. A waggon, or cart, or plough, together with the team which draws
it, is called by no other name in several parts of Somersetshire.
To drive the pray. To drive the cattle from the moor. Sedgemoor. French,
pres, a meadow.
Retchup, so pronounced, though the original is probably Rightship. Truth.
Somersetshire. As, There is no retchup in that child.
A Rail. A revel, a country wake. Devon.
A Slice. A fire-shovel. Bristol.
Stive. Dust. Pembrokeshire. Dust is there only used to signify saivdust.
To Sar. To earn. Sedgemoor. As, To sar seven shillings a week. The same word
is also used as a corruption of serve; as, To sar the pigs.
A Scute. A reward. North of Devon.
To Slotter. To slop, to mess, to dirt. Devon.
Sture. Dust. Devon.
To Slock. To pilfer, or give privately; and a Slockster, a pilferer. Devon
and Somerset.
To for at. All over Devon.
Th for 6" in the third person singular of verbs. Devon. As, // rainth He
livth to Parracomb When Jie jumpth, all shaketh.
Tidy. Neat, decent. West of England.
To Tine. To light, etc. As, Tine the candle. Somerset. Pronounced, in Devon,
Tin.
To Tine is likewise used in the neighbourhood of Sedgemoor for to shut. As,
Tine the door He has not tined his eyes to sleep these three nights.
A Tutty. Pronounced also, in other places, a Titty. A nosegay. Somerset.
Ttvily. Restless. Somerset. Perhaps a corruption of Toily.
Tutt-work. Jobb-work, as distinguished from work by the day. Somerset and
Devon; and in the Cornish and Derbyshire mines. Probably derived from the
French tout.
Unkid, or Uncut. Dull, melancholy. Somerset.
Vitty. Neat, decent, suitable. Cornwall. Perhaps a corruption of Fit or
Fetive.
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(delwedd D4358) (tudalen 027)
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A List of
Local Expressions. 27
To rang. To give, reach, hand. Devon. As, Vang me the bread.
Vorthy. Forward, assuming. Somerset and Dorset. The original is, perhaps,
forthy, derived from the adverb forth.
Wisht. Dull, gloomy. Cornwall.
Some of your correspondents will perhaps be able to inform you, that the use
of most of these words is more extensive than is here set down. What is now
sent is from the actual observation of one who is no great traveller. S.
[1794, Part L, p. no.]
The following illustrations of some of the local expressions, p. 1083, may
not, perhaps, be unacceptable; and the instances, which I have subjoined of
their usage by our great poets of elder days, may serve to evince the utility
of such collections in critical inquiries, if, indeed, the thing requires any
proof. To the authenticity of your correspondent's list, as far as it relates
to Somerset, I can, and gladly do, bear testimony.
Don and Doff are well known to be contracted from do on and do off. From don
is also formed the substantive donnings. Doff occurs frequently in
Shakespeare and Spenser, and twice in Milton.
“I praise thy resolution: doff these links."
Samps. Agon. “Nature in awe to him Had dofft her gavvdey trim."
Ode on the Nativity, line 33.
Jemmies. Hinges. Grose, in his Provincial Glossary, gives Jimmers, and a
North-country word, in the same sense. In Somerset, I believe, the more
common pronunciation to be jimmels, perhaps from the French jumelle, a twin,
gemellus.
To Mooch, to play truant. Otherwise mich, or meech. Somerset. "Shall the
blessed son of heaven prove a micher*, and eat blackberries?"
Shakespeare, Henry IV., Part I., Act ii. Grose has "michers, thieves,
pilferers, Norf."
Moiled, troubled, fatigued. Most likely from moile, or mayle, the ancient
mode of writing; and the present West country mode of pronouncing the name of
that laborious animal, the mule.
Nesh is used by Chaucer, I think, though I cannot now point out the
particular passage; but I am certain that I have met with it in some old
author of note.
Plough, for a waggon and horses, comes probably from plaustrum, or rather
from the Italian, plaustro; the diphthong au being sounded by the Italians
like the English ou.
Scute, a reward. Bishop Flcetwood mentions a French gold coin, named a scute,
of the value of 3^. $d. current in England in 1427. See Chronicon Preciosum.
[See Note 10.]
A micher is an idler.
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(delwedd D4359) (tudalen 028)
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28 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
Tidy, neat, decent. Dol Tear-sheet calls FalstafT, “thou whoreson little
tydie Bartholomew Boar-pig." Henry IV., Part II., Act ii. Tine, to
light. As, Tine the candle. Thus Milton,
“as late the clouds
Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock, Tine the slant
lightning."
Par. Lo. B. X. 1. 332.
Tine, to shut. Verstegan gives, "betined, hedged about," in his
list of old English words; and adds, “We use yet in some parts of England to
say tyning for hedging." Antiquities, ed. 4to., 1634, p. 210. In
Somerset an inclosed field is frequently called a tining, in opposition to a
down or open common.
Turily. Perhaps a corruption of toily. Certainly; for toil is always
pronounced by the Western rustics twile; spoil, spwile, etc.
Tutt-work. From the French tout. This is, probably, the true etymology; at
least, it coincides with the notion which I have always entertained of its
derivation; and it may be remarked, that such of our old provincial words as
are not Saxon come for the most part from the French. There are very few
among them, I believe, which are mere barbarous inventions, devoid of any
signification; as some authors are fond of representing them. Many,
doubtless, are so corrupted, that it is difficult, if not impossible, to
trace them to their genuine original; but, to say that such an original does
not, or did not, exist, is not only to draw an undue inference, but also to
make an assertion in itself extremely improbable. Yours, etc, R. P.
Letter in the Dialect of the Shetland Islands. [See Note ii.]
[1836, Part //., //. 589-593-]
As you have not unfrequently admitted into your Miscellany curious pieces of
composition in the dialects of our country, I have procured from the Shetland
Islands a specimen of the language still spoken among the common people
there, with the hope of seeing it perpetuated in your pages. I had
endeavoured to procure in manuscript or print some glossary or list of words
peculiar to that group of Islands; but, instead of such a work, received the
following facetious letter, which was many years since sent by a gentleman of
Shetland to his friend in Liverpool; several copies of it have been
circulated in manuscript, but I am assured that it has never appeared in
print. The narrative, it is plain, has been contrived to embody in it as many
words and phrases peculiar to the vulgar language of the district as its
compass would admit of. Though the translation with which I have accompanied
it has undergone the revisal both of scholars and a native of the country, it
is still, I fear, not free from errors; for this is the only specimen of the
Zetlandic tongue that I have seen; and my knowledge of the Anglo and
Scoto-Northumbrian dialects does
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(delwedd D4360) (tudalen 029)
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Letter in
the Dialect of the Shetland Islands. 29
not furnish me with a key to some of its terms and phrases. I have, however,
endeavoured to render it as easy and literal as I can. The words of the
original should, I am told, be pronounced exactly as they are spelled. J. H.
Twartree
deys sinsyne, wir Jonie wrett me tree or fower lynes wi Andru Hey, itt wiz
kummin dis weigh whidder or no, an se he tuik hit wi him. Heez a fyne sheeld
dat Andru, gude lukk sitt i his fes an sek an a boorlie man az heez growan
tu, and wid be ower weel faard gin hitt wiz na fore yun busks o' hare it he
heaz apun his fes. O dwyne yun fasin, gin hit beena da vyldest itt ivvir dere
faan apun yitt. I kenna whatt itts lek, bitt am shure itts no lek nethin
kirsint. Se mith I gitt helt az I link hit wid gluff da ful teef himsell.
What links du whinn Andru kam in, I wiz dat weigh drumfoondit, itt I kent him
no for a sertan tyme. I nevvir gat sek an a flegg i ma lyfe insep e nycht kummin fre da ela, itt I mett Tammie o' Skae (saal be in gloary)
abun Trullia watter, rydin apo Peter o' Hundegird's blessit hoarse, wi a
sheep best a fore him. Or dan annidder tyme it I kam apo Jeemie Tamsin markin
up wir pellat Rull i da humin o' da eenin
aboot tvva bocht lent abun da km dekk o' Oxigill i da hill o' Valafiel, bitt
hit wiz na fur himm itt I glufft, bitt du kens I nevvir hedd ne gritt lekkin
fur da hills, at datt partiquhalar tyme o' nycht, an whinn I lichtit apo
himm, hee wiz staandin wee hiz feet paald fornent a brugg, a lokkin da rull
aboot da kraig, wee a bluidie tnyfe
Two or
three days since our John wrote me three or four lines by Andrew Hey, who was
coming this way whether or not, and so he took it with him. He is a fine
fellow that Andrew. Good luck sit on his face! And such a stately man as he
is grown too: and would be over well looking if it was not for yon bushes of
hair that he has upon his face. O confound yon fashion! if it be not the
ugliest that they ever fell upon yet. I know not what it is like, but am sure
it is not like any thing christened. So might I get health, as I think it
would frighten the foul thief himself. What think you when Andrew came in, I
was that way stupefied, that I knew him not for a certain time. I never gat
such a fright in my life, except one night coming fra the market that I met
Tommy of Skae (his soul be in glory!) above Trullia water, riding upon Peter
of Hundegird's blessed horse with a sheep beast before him. Or than another
time, that I came upon Jemmy Tamsin fastening our stallion colt in the dusk
of the evening about two sheep folds in length above the sheepcote dike of
Oxigill, in the hill of Valafiel; but it was not of him that I was afraid; but
you know I never had any great liking for the hills at that particular time
of night. And when I lighted upon him, he was
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(delwedd D4361) (tudalen 030)
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Lists of
Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
atill hiz
teeth, an da rumple o' da steag* wiz waadg'd up till a grett mukkle odias
whyte stean, se itt da kretar kud na hae ne
pooster ta muv neddir da te weigh or da tidder, mair iz ginn heed been shoarded
in a noost; an se du seez hiz fes wiz timmie,
an da nukkie o' hiz kepp bure stracht owr da hedd o' da rull, an se mycht I du weel az I
tuik hit fur a trow, an ma hert tuik a flochtin an a whiskin hit wiz
unmodarit, bit whan I kam atweest himm an da lycht, hee luikit upp, an whan
hee saa mee hee whett da rull, an aff hee gud
lek da ful o' da ere. A'll ashure dee hiz feet wiz wirt twa pere o' haands till him: fur gin
I kud a gotten had apun him, ill luk sit i' ma haands gin I sud na astud hiz
luggs, itt hee sud a been kent fur a teef a da deys o' hiz lyfe. An se du seez I giangs doon trou tidda steag, an hit
wiz dat dark it I wid na a kent what hit wiz, bit dere I fins twa sukkalegs
stikkit fu o' whyte oo' apun a tuag lyin benon a meashie o' hedderkows itt
heed been fetshin hemm ta soop da lumms o' Skerpa, an I fan da tnyfe itt hee
wiz haddin atill hiz sheeks, a prettie splunder niii joktalegg oot o' da shopp o' Bunis, itt heed koft da ook afoar
frae Lowrie Bartlesin fur a pere o' piltak waands itt he stul oot anonder da boat o' Hullan, apo da ere o' Widweek, da dey it he gud
ta Hermaness wee da ouzen o' Skerpa. An I fan da teef's snuffmill, it theed
wrocht oot o'
standing
with his feet striding out before a brow, and holding the colt by the neck,
with a bloody knife between his teeth, and the rump of the colt was wedged up
to a very great, large, white stone, so that the- creature could not have
power to move either the one way or the other, more than if he had been
fastened in a noose. And so you see his face was to me, and the corner of his
cap lay straight over the head of the colt. And, so might I do well, as I
took him for a boggle, and my heart took a flickering and a fluttering that
was immoderate; but when I came betwixt him and the light, he looked up, and
when he saw me he quitted the colt and off he went like a fowl of the air. I
will assure you that his feet were worth two pair of hands to him: for if I
could have gotten hold of him, ill luck sit in my hands, if I should not have
cropped his ears, that he should have been known for a thief all the days of
his life. And so, you see, I goes down straight to the colt, and it was that
dark that I would not have known what it was, but there I finds two little
pokes filled full of white wool, upon a raw hide lying, above a bundle of
heather stalks, that he had been fetching home to sweep the chimneys of
Skerpa. And I found the knife that he was holding against his chops a pretty
bright newjackalegs, out of the shop of Bunis, that he had bought the week
before from Lowrie Bartlesin, for a pair of
* A staig
or stag, in Zetland, is a young stallion: in the north of England, a colt of
a year old.
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(delwedd D4362) (tudalen 031)
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Letter in
the Dialect of the Shetland Islands. 3 1
hiz pokkit,
whinn hee wiz stryddin foment da rull. Bitt dis iz no a. Alto I
gatt na menze apun him at dat meentyme, I mett him in a mistie moarnin fur a
dat.
I waarn hit
wiz a glide munt o' deys efter dat, whinn hee wiz draan him weel up ta
lonsmis, itt I wiz kummin hemm frae Ska, whaar I wiz rowin dat simmer, ee
setterdey nycht vvi a biudie o' ling hedds an peerie brismaks, an bruk o' dat kynd apo ma bak, nevvir tinkin o' noathin insep da
ulie itt wiz rinnin oot o a liver hedd i ma biudie, an a ere o soor blaand
itt wiz leakin oot o a botle it I hed, an rinnin doon apo ma bak wi a sweein
an a yuke itt wiz undumas, fur dae wirr a grett mukkle scab rycht anonder ma
biudie, an whinn I kam upp trow fre da
Santkluff, ti da toon o' Norrook, I luiks behint mee, an wha tinks du seez I bitt Steaggie
kummin sloomin himm upp efter mee, an se tinks I, bruee, du an I hez a kra ta
pluk afoar wee pairt; an whinn I kam ti da
yaard o' Digran, I lint mee apo da yaard dek ta tak in da baand o' ma biudie, an
de wirr a hel boats-kru o' Norruk men staandin anonder da stak, lipnin a
tulie atweest Meggie o' Digran an Annie Sudderlan, itt wiz flytin wee a
veelansie itt wiz unspeakable, kiz Annie hedd bund herr niu
fishing
rods that he stole from under the boat of Hullan, upon the shore of Widweek,
the day that he went to Hermanes with the oxen of Skerpa. And I found the
thiefs snuffmill, that had worked out of his pocket when he was striding
before the colt. But this is not all. Although I got no satisfaction of him
at that very time, I met him in a misty morning for all that.
I warrant it was a good month of days after that, when he was drawing him
well up to lonsmis, that I was coming home from Ska, wheere I was fishing
that summer, one Saturday night with a creil [or basket] of ling heads and
small tusk-fish, and scraps of that kind upon my back, never thinking of
nothing except the oil that was running out of a liver head in my pannier and
a little sour buttermilk that was leaking out of a bottle that I had, and
running down upon my back with a tickling* and an itching that was
inconceivable, for there was a great large scab under my creil, and when I
came up just from the sand cliff to the town of Norrook, I looks behind me
and who, think you, saw I but Steaggie, coming slipping up after me; and so
thinks I, brother, thou and I have a crow to pluck before we part. And when I
came to the garden of Digran, I leant me upon the garden dyke to take-in the
band of my pannier, and there were a whole boat's crew of Norrook men
standing under the stack, watching a quarrel between Meggy of Digran
* Swein
means a disagreeably burning sensation.
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(delwedd D4363) (tudalen 032)
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32 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
kallud ku upun a ley rigg o' Meggie's, it de'd no
been a kliv apun i da sezin, an Meggie bed british'd Annie's spleet niu herin
teddir se sma itt de wirr no a krum atill'd itt kud a
been a humblaband till a whillie. An a'll ashure dee, du wid a geen a gude
pees o' gett afoar du fan twa better flyters: nevvir raycht I sin ginn I dud
na heer da galder o' dere tungs as veevaly abun da klifts az ginn I'd been apo da toonmills asyde dim. An nu du seez az I wiz tellin dee,
bye kums Steaggie vvi a pere o' helltars in his haand hee geez mee da tyme o' da dey an akses fooz a wee mee. “Braalie, braalie,
bruee," sez I, “fooz a wi dee sell, I warn du hez no a smell i dee
hoarn, yaa whey hez du no?" “Na, deevil a
kumm iz
been i mye kustadee dis munt an mere, sinn I tint ma mill ee dey it I wiz i
da elb strikkin twartree lempits ta so at da eela." I maks apo mee ta
tak oot ma box oot o' ma weasket pokkit, an I seyz, "weel dan will du
smell at my trash." An wi dat I taks oot hi/ nain mill an sneyts ma
noze, an az shun az hee sett hiz glowriks
apun'd, da fes o' himm lep upp lek a kol, an I seyz till him, “Bridder, kens du dis snuff
mill?" “Na, no I, lam, foo sud I ken, na gude ken o' mee az I ken no, a
prettie mill it iz, whaar fell du in wee'd." “Whaar I fell in wi dis
tnyfe." I entrappit him, an tuik oot da joktalegg. “Meabee du kens na
himm neddarin; yea, du mey stumse du ill viandit teef it du iz, du tocht
nethin ta pit dye mark (hiz mark
and Annie
Sudderlan, that were scolding with a violence that was unspeakable: because
Annie had tethered her new-calved cow upon a lea rig of Meggy's, that there
had not been a mouth upon in that season, and Meggy had cut Anney's quite new
hair tether so small, that it was not a bit too thick to have been a humbla
band to a [spinning] wheel And I will assure you, you would have gone a good
piece of way before you found two better scolders. Never may I sin if I did
not hear the clatter of their tongues as well above the cliffs, as if I had
been upon the very rigs beside them. And now you see, as I was telling you,
by comes Steaggie with a pair of halters in his hand. He gives me the time of
the day, and asks "how is all with me." "Bravely! bravely!
good fellow," says I, “how is all with yourself: I warrant you have not
a smell in your horn; but why have you not?" “No, devil a pinch has been
in my custody this month and more, since I lost my mill one day that I was in
the water striking-off two or three limpets to sell at the market." I
took upon me to take out my box out of my waistcoat pocket; and I says,
"Well, then, will you smell at my trash:" and with that I takes out
his own mill and blows my nose; and, as soon as he set his eyes upon it, the
face of him lighted up like a coal, and I says to him, “Brother, know you
this snuff-mill?" "No, not I, dear; how should I know! may no good
know of me, as I know
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(delwedd D4364) (tudalen 033)
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Letter in
the Dialect of the Shetland Islands, 33
wiz da left
lugg getskor'd behint, an da rycht lugg shuild wi a hoi) apo mye steag; nu
afoar du an I sinders, nevvir mycht mee haand help ma bodie, in I duna sett
mye mark apo dee." (Wir mark wiz bead da luggs aff, bit wee hed annidder
een furbye dat.) An wi dat sam I grippit him be da trapple, an whatt tinks
du' Pettie, I wiz dat ill tafu itt am mear az sertan I widna a left da wratch
da ormal o' a lugg, gin Dunkin o' Sandle hed na kum behint mee, an klikkit da
skiinee oot o' mee haand; weel, I wiz resoal'd ta he sum menze apun him, an
whin I'd geen him a gude trist o' da kreag, an tree or four sonsee knubs
aboot da shafts, wee breekbandit hit, an I laandit him rycht apo da keel o'
hiz bak i da vennal itt ran oot anonder da kuddee doar o' Andru o' Digran's
byar, asyde Donal o Nius' mukkle flekkit gaat, it wiz cullin him dere i da
runnik an sek an a runnik I nevvir saa da lek what wi da swyne, an da fokk,
an what ran oot fre da bes, an da goilgruve o'
da middeen, du widna gudablee a seen a prettiar konkurrans fre Ska ta Sumbrooch-hedd
an de wirr datt vyld a ere wee'd whin hee wiz onee ting o' a glud apun him,
itt hit wiz anioch ta confess a dugg.
not. A
pretty mill it is, where fell you in with it?" “Where I fell in with
this knife." I entrapped him and took out the jackalegs. “May be, you
know not it neither: yes, thou may hesitate, thou ill-fed thief that thou
art: you thought nothing of putting thy mark" (his mark was the left ear
slit behind, and the right ear pierced with a hole) “upon my colt: now before
thou and I part, never may my hand help my body, if I do not set my mark upon
thee." (Our mark was both the ears off; but we had another one besides
that.) And with that same I gripped him by the throttle; and, what think you,
Peter! I was that ill to satisfy, that I am more than certain I would not
have left the wretch the shape of an ear, if Duncan of Sandle had not come
behind me and snatched the knife out of my hand. Well, I was resolved to have
some satisfaction on him, and when I had given him a good grip of the throat,
and three or four weighty thumps about the chops, we parted, and I landed him
right upon the keel of his back, in the kennel that ran under the short door
of Andrew of Digran's cow house, beside Donal of Nius' great speckled goat,
that was cooling himself there, in the puddle, and such an a puddle! I never
saw the like! what with the swine, and the folk, and what ran out from the
beasts, and a foul gutter of the dunghill, you would not possibly have seen a
prettier concurrence from Ska to Sumbroock-head. And there
VOL, II.
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(delwedd D4365) (tudalen 034)
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34 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
I row'd
Steaggie bak an foar trow dis soss till I toucht he wiz mestlee smoar'd, an
ta tell dee da truthe, I sud a bun shokkit meesell, fur ne modrat stamak kud
staand sek an a stink an dan I whatt him an gud ma weigh.
Nu bridder, diss iz da end o' ma stoarie, an I daar sey du tinks itts no afoar da tyme. A'll ashure dee I tink ne less
meesell; bitt du kens whinn a boddie eens faaz
tu, dey nevvir ken rycht whaar ta leve aff, an se feres wi mee sae mycht I see a gude
sycht apo da ting it I wid see'd apun az whin I begud ta tell dee aboot Andru
Key's hearie fes, az I tovvcht ne mear o' laandin dee i da runnik o' Digran,
az Wyllyam o' Troal did o' giaan ta Bellmunt atill hiz smuks ee nycht i voar,
it hiz wyfe baad him skuyt i da doar gin da sholmit ku wiz kum hemm furteen
myle o' gett wiz a braa stramp atween lychts, az lang az da nappee wiz
boylin, an bearlee se lang fur da watter wiz geen on whinn he gud ower guyt
o' da doar, an whinn he kam hemm, Osla wiz linkin up da kruk ta pitt on da
layvreen an alto hee hedd on a grey Joopee nevvir bun i da watter, an o bliu
kot an weskit oot o' da litt, an a pere o' skrottee breeks it wiz klampit
till de wirr no a treed i dem bit what wiz treeplye, an a odia floamie o'
barkit skean benon apo da boddim, an bead da
was that
vile smell with it, when there was any quantity of mire upon it, that it was
enough to suffocate a dog.
I rolled Steaggie back and forward through this puddle till I thought he was
mostly smothered, and to tell you the truth, I should have been choked
myself; for no moderate stomach could stand such an a smell: and then I left
him and went my way.
Now, brother, this is the end of my story: and I dare say you think it is not
before the time. I will assure you I think not less myself; but you know when
a body once falls-to they never know rightly where to leave-off, and so fares
[it] with me. So might I see a good sight upon the thing that I would see it
upon, as when I began to tell you about Andrew Key's hairy face, as I thought
no more of landing you in the runnel of Digran, than William of Troal did of
going to Belmunt in his shirts one night in spring, that his wife bade him
set a-jar the door [to see] if the speckled cow was come home. Fourteen mile
of way was a brave journey between lights, as long as the nappie was boiling,
and barely so long; for the water was going on when he went over the
threshold of the door, and, when he came home, Osla was linking up the crook
to put on the layvreen. And although he had on a grey great coat [that had]
never been in the water, and a blue coat and waistcoat out of the dye, and a
pair of short breeches that were patched till there was not a thread in them
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(delwedd D4366) (tudalen 035)
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Letter in
the Dialed of the Shetland Isles. 35
tneez o'
dem, an a sefeeshint pere o' ribbit soks, an a smuk it wiz wirt twa an a
baabee, yea tree stures, az weel as hit wiz wirt
a doyt, apo da te fitt, an a rivleen aff o' a niu tarleddir oot o' Virse apo
da tidder no furyattin
it hiz feet wiz oot o' koorse fur grittness, da fleeter itt Saxie skoom'd his
kettle wi whinn he boyl'd da fowr mastit ship wiz nethin ta dem weel fur aa
dat kleaz, itt wid a leepit a Sowdian aff o'
da benz, dwyne hiz boadie gin da sweat wiz louz'd apun him whinn hee kam till hiz
nean. In de onie piogies a yun plannit whaar duz bydin itt kud du da lek o'
dat tinks du, billie? I raiken hit widna tak mukkle normeattik ta koont dem.
I manna
furyatt ta tell dee ta hadd out o' mee weigh, gin du beez dee nain freend,
fur I he a flaa ta ryve wee dee, an gin I gett haands apo' dee, a'll mebee
gee dee a traa itt dul no bee da better o'. I eenz towcht itt I wid tak ma
fitt i mee haand an kum eenz a errint ta Liverpool ta turn dee luggs, bitt
duz no wirt mee whyle, or dan I wid du
pushin ill faard itt du iz.
Wiz da eevil man tempin dee ta sett apo prent a bitt o'
a letter, itt I wrett ta ma kummarad i da munt o' Julie fearn year? illsycht
bee seen apo dat fes, du wiz na blett ta giang an mak a ful o' onie onnist
man's beam,
but what
was treble, and a very large clout of tanned skin above upon the bottom, and
both the knees of them, and a so-fashioned pair of ribbed stockings, an a
shirt that was worth two and a halfpenny, aye three stivers, as well as it
was worth a doit, upon the one foot, and a slice of a new tar-leather out of
Virse upon the other, not forgetting that his feet were out of course for
greatness the skimmer that Saxie scummed his kettle with, when he boiled the
four-masted ship, was nothing to them. Well! for all these clothes, that
would have par-boiled a Southern off of the benz, take his body! if the sweat
was stirred upon him when he came to his own [house]. Are there any folks in
your country, where you are living, that could do the like of that, think you,
comrade? I reckon it would not take much arithmetic to count them.
I must not forget to tell you to hold out of my way if you be your own
friend, for I have a quarrel to settle with you, and if I get hands upon you,
I will perhaps give you a twist that you will not be the better of. I once
thought I would take my feet in my hand and come one's own errand [on
purpose] to Liverpool to cut your ears, but you are not worth my while or
then I would, you poisoned ill-looking .... that you are. Was the evil man
tempting you to set up in print a bit of a letter, that I wrote to my comrade
in the month of July gone a year? Ill looks be seen upon that face! you were
32
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(delwedd D4367) (tudalen 036)
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36 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
duz no
shure whaa meay mak a ful o' deesell yitt duz dun mee a boanie turn ta gaar
aa da fokk i wirr pies ta tink it I wiz skimpin demm, kiz itt I wrett i mee
nain kiuntree langeech, an yitt du kens moar az weel, itt I wid na du da lek o' datt fur giopens o' yallu gowd. An dan effter aa du
mistiukit hit, du leelerat brutt duz pitten in ee pies, “gude ta true,"
in pies o' “giid ta tru," an in annidder pert, duz sett doon
"geegganin" in pies o' “geegarin" kens du no itt geegarin
meenz shiftin aboot fre pies ta pies an “da
cage o' a
tyme," duz keepit oot “kan keep" afoar "a man's stamak"
deel rumble i dy stamak fur dee peans. Effter datt gin du tinks itt du kens
veezable aboot grammer or properness o langeech, se mycht I tryve az duz az
faar oot az Maggie Low, whinn shii klaad da stoop o' da bedd in pies o' her
nean rumple.
Dere tellan
mee itt duz giaan awa till a unkan pies whaar dere nethin bitt neggirs it
giaangs midder nekit, filltie bruts, an dudna beleeve i wir Byble, ill
trifteen i dat pikters, dey want na impeedens. Nu dul need ta tak tent o'
deesell, fur de'll no kear ta stik dee gin dey kud he a keyshen. I need na
aks dee gin dul tak a footh o' ferdamett \vi dee duz da wrang haand ta
furyatt datt. I daar sey dul tak fyve or sax biudies o' sea biddies
not afraid
to go and make a fool of any honest man's child: you are not sure who may
make a fool of yourself yet. You have done me a pretty turn, to make all the
folks in our place to think that I was jeering them, because that I wrote in
my own country language, and yet you know quite as well, that I would not do
the like of that for both-open-handfulls of yellow gold. And then after all
you mistook it, you illiterate brute. You have put in one place “gude ta
true," in place of “gud ta tru;" and in another part you have set
down “geegganin," in place of “geegarin." Know you not that
geegarin means shifting about from place to place: and "da cage o' a
tyme," you have kept out “kan keep “before "a man's stomach":
Devil rumble in your stomach for your pains! After that, if you think you
know rightly about grammar, or propriety of language, so may I thrive, but
you are as far out as Meggy Low, when she scratched the post of the bed,
instead of her own bottom.
They are telling me that you are going away to an unknown place, where there
are nothing but negroes, that go mothernaked, ^///y brutes! and do not believe
in our Bible: ill luck to their faces! they want no impudence. Now you will
need to take care of yourself; for they will not care to stab you, if they
could have an occasion. I need not ask you if you will take abundance of
father-meat with you. You are the wrong hand
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(delwedd D4368) (tudalen 037)
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Letter in
the Dialect of the Shetland Isles. 37
an tree or fowr taillies o' saat to forget that. I dare say you beeff, an plentie
o' spaarls ta will take five or six barrels of keetshin dee grual, no
furyattin sea-biddies and three or four somtin ta swee i dee kreag. Se pieces
of salt beef, and plenty of fear weel ta dee, an Gud bliss smelts to season
your gruel, not dee, an tak a kear o' dee a yun forgetting something to
tickle in unkirsint plannit, an bring dee your throat. So farewell to you,
weel ta dee nean agen, an se re- and God bless you, and take a means wi lovin
affexion, care of you in yon unchristened
Dye Kummarad, country, and bring you well to
A d B y. your own again: and so remain,
with loving affection,
Your Comrade,
A d B y.
P.S. Dey sey itt Andru Nizbet, P.S. They say that Andrew
da keeng o' Burraness, is dead Nesbit, the king of Burraness, is
a wirtie, onnist man az evvir pat dead; a worthy honest man, as
a drap o' key bru in a ulie kig, or ever put a drop of strong ale in a
hulkie eddiran. jolly cag or portly elder.
Glossary to the Zetland Dialect. [See Note 12.]
[1838, Part II., pp. 489, 490.]
The translation of the Zetlandic letter, with the original text, which you
did me the favour to publish in your Magazine for December 1836, according to
my own apprehension, has not been found free from errors. By the kind
assistance of the Reverend Mr. Paterson, an exemplary and excellent minister
in the Shetland Islands, I have been enabled to furnish you with the
following long list of errata, to which I have added a few illustrations,
with the hope that this additional attempt to obtain a correct notion of the
affinity which exists between the dialects of the North of England and the
Shetland Islands, may not be unacceptable to many of your readers. J. H.
[The words in square brackets are the different spellings in the text^\
lyldest, vilest.
du ela [da ela], the pitlock or young seethe fishing.
blessit, piebald.
bocht, fishing-line five fathoms long.
paald % pressed against.
lokkiri) clasping.
odias, odious.
shoarded, shored or propped up.
noost, creek where boats are drawn up.
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(delwedd D4369) (tudalen 038)
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38 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
bure> bore.
lek daful, like the fowl.
ttou, through.
sukkalegs, stockings without feet.
fuag, hillock.
meashee [meashie], net made of straw ropes.
splunder, quite.
Jiee, it, time: neuter gender but seldom used in Zetlandic.
johnsmis, Johnsmas.
bindi [biudie], basket made of the stalks of docks.
blaand, whey of sour milk, much used as a beverage in Shetland.
sloomin, at a sluggish, sauntering pace.
lipnin, expecting.
Sudderlan, Sutherland.
klif \\fX\\\ hoof.
no a krum at Hid itt kud a been a humblaband till a luhillie: i. e.
not a bit in it could have been a humblaband to a small four-oared
boat. A humblaband is a small piece of rope or a leather thong,
which keeps the oar steady while the rower is pulling. veeraty [veevaly],
distinctly, livelily. Mmm, dust. In Westmorland, saw-coom is saw-dust. i da
ebb [elb], on the shore between high and low water-mark. fa so at da ela, to
sow or scatter at the fishing-place. Limpets for
this purpose are parboiled, chewed, and spirted from the mouth
on the water, to invite the fish near the top. The hooks on the
lines are, however, always baited. viandit, inclined. trist, twist. we [wee]
breekbandit it [hit], I took him round the waist or trousers
band. We is here used instead of f, a very common mode of
speech in the North of England. gaat. hog or swine.
smuks, brouges or shoes made of worsted rags. skuyk [skuyt], look. sholmit,
whitefaced. (?) Sholmut. stramp, step: in the North of England a tramp is a
long walk
quickly performed, and a tramper a vagabond one who walks
from place to place begging or selling trifles. Osla, Ursula.
jopee [Joopee], worsted or woollen shirt. skrotte [skrottee], a brown dye
from stone-rag or lichens gathered from
the rocks,
sefeeshint, sufficient. smuk, worsted shoe. riveleen [rivleen], ancient
highland brouge or shoe. See Lady of the
Lake, canto iii. note 9.
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(delwedd D4370) (tudalen 039)
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Glossary
to the Zetland Dialect. 39
virse, swine's hide.
Saxt'e, a giant. The kettle, in which he boiled the ship, is a hollow in a
rock in the Island of Uist. Through Shetland, rocks surrounded by water are
called Saxie's stepping stones.
bens [benz], bones.
pushin, worthless.
blett, bashful. Blaat, in Northumberland.
moar az, more than.
Geegarin meenz shiften aboot fer [fre] pies ta pies in the eage o' a tyme.
This clause is wrong printed in the text: “and a eage o' a time," should
be “in the eage," etc., that is, from time to time.
veezable, anything.
ferdamel [ferdamett], provision for the day.
bindies [biudies], baskets.
spaarls, puddings made of coarse beef.
drap o' hey [key] bru in a iilie keg or hulke eddiran, literally drop of hay
broth in an oil cag or barrel, either. In Shetland, as in the mountainous
parts of the North of England, infusions of hay in water are given to calves
instead of milk; and to cows, to increase their quantity of milk. Decoctions
of herbs, in Bartholomew, Turner, and other old writers, are very commonly
called broths.
Anglo-Saxon Words Preserved in Devonshire. [See Note 13.]
[1839, part JL, pp. 238, 239.]
It has often occurred to me, whilst taking a review of the present state of
Anglo-Saxon literature, to endeavour, by means of inquiries in the
Gentleman's Magazine, to ascertain if the Anglo-Saxon language was ever
extinct in England. A few days ago, whilst looking over Hearne's “Glossary to
Robert of Gloucester's Chronicle," I met with a “letter concerning a
book printed at Tavistock in Devonshire," written by Hearne to John
Bagford, who was then making collections (now in the Harleian Library) for a
History of Printing.
The allusion is to “The Boke of Comfort, called in Latyn Boecius de
Consolatione Philosophic, enprented in the exempt Monastery of Tavestok, in
Denshyre. By me Dan Thomas Rychard, Monke of the sayd Monastery, to the
instant desyre of the ryght worshypful esquyer Mayster Robert Langdon, Anno
Domini MDXXV." [See Note 14.] On this work Hearne, who apparently had
examined it, has the following conjecture:
“I am of opinion that Robert Langdon mov'd him to print this Book not only out
of a pious Design, but also for the advancing the Saxon Tongue, which was
taught in this Abbey as well as in some other places of this Kingdom with
success; and there were Lectures
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(delwedd D4371) (tudalen 040)
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40 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
read in it constantly here, which continued some time after the Reformation.
Now this Translation of Boetius having variety of words agreeing with the
Saxon, it might be reckoned by Mr. Langdon a very proper book for attaining
to the knowledge of the Saxon Language, especially if compared with the
Translation made by King Alfred; and for that reason, if for none else, the
Printer might be induced to set it forth. If so, perhaps, there were only
just such a Number printed as would serve the Abbey for this end."
Several authorities may be cited respecting the founding a Saxon lecture in
the monastery of Tavistock. The first which I shall adduce is Camden in the
"Britannia" (in Devonshire), who distinctly states that Saxon
Lectures were read in Tavistock Monastery till or near to the time of its
dissolution. In LTsle's “Saxon Monuments," Preface to the edition of
1623, allusion is made to it in the following words: “Thanks be to God that
he that conquered the land could not so conquer the language, but that in
Memory of our Fathers it hath been preserved in common Lectures," etc.
Kennet, in his “Life of Somner," apparently following Camden, says: “In
the Abbey of Tavistock, which had a Saxon founder about 691, there were
solemn lectures in the Saxon tongue even to the time of our fathers, that the
knowledge of it might not fail, as it has since well nigh done." In a
sketch of the progress of Anglo-Saxon literature, published at Paris in 1836,
there is an allusion to an Anglo-Saxon grammar, "Nous avons lu quelque part que les moines de Tavistock
composerent et meme imprimerent une Grammaire Saxonne." And in a work on the
same subject, published the following year, Mr. Kemble remarks, “It is said
that the monks of Tavistock, before the dissolution of their monastery, not
only revived the study of Saxon, but possessed a font of Saxon type, and
printed Saxon books. Assuredly of any Saxon book which they did print (if
ever they printed any), there is nothing remaining in any library in
Europe."
Without multiplying quotations on the subject, although it may be doubted
whether any Saxon books were printed before the Saxon Homilies, in 1567, by
John Daye, yet it appears reasonable to conclude that a Saxon lecture was
publicly read in the monastery of Tavistock till its dissolution, which a few
years only preceded what has been called the revival of Saxon literature by
Archbishop Parker, about the year 1566. But the Archbishop was not alone in
the wish to promote the revival of the Saxon tongue, although from his
elevated position the merit of much that others did was, probably, attributed
to him. The labours of Nowell, and Josceline, and Lambarde, must not be
forgotten: the former of whom, so early as 1557, compiled a Saxon vocabulary,
said to be deposited in the Bodleian Library: so that his knowledge of the
language, we may suppose, had been acquired before this period. Of Josceline
but little is known; some particulars of his life and labours are given in
the “History of Lam
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(delwedd D4372) (tudalen 041)
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Anglo-Saxon
Words Preserved in Devonshire. 41
beth Palace," and a portion of his collections is deposited in the
Cotton Library. [See Note 15.]
There is perhaps, no part of England in which so many AngloSaxon words are to
be met with in general use, as amongst the common people of the counties of
Devon and Somerset. For the purpose of illustration I subjoin a few words
selected at random; the first column has the Anglo-Saxon form; the second the
western dialect; the third is modern English.
haer heer hair
hselm, healm helm haulm
hseth heaeth heath
heorte hort heart
heorot-berg hurt-berry whortleberry
heorth herth hearth
hairing yheering herring
haesl heasel hazel
hroc hroke rook
hrof hrof roof
hyran hier to hear
hwar whaur where
hwsetene hwaeten wheaten.
Without a knowledge of the strong aspiration of the /t, by natives of the
west, it is, perhaps, not so evident; but with that knowledge it will appear
plainly that their pronunciation of words which retain the Anglo-Saxon form,
approaches very nearly to that which is elucidated by the rules given by
philologers for our guidance in the Anglo-Saxon. With this in view, the
accenting of hroc in any other way than by lengthening the open sound of o as
in croak seems to be improper. The retention too of the Anglo-Saxon pronoun
if, in the various forms of if, zch, iche, 'ch, etc., as well as the singular
and plural dative, thissum, of the Anglo-Saxon pronoun t/ies, may be noticed
as deserving of attention. But the stronger evidence rests in the language
itself as spoken in the remote districts into which the improvements of
modern times have not hitherto found a way.
In conclusion, it would afford me satisfaction if any of your readers can
furnish distinct and positive evidence on the subject with which I commenced
this letter. Yours, etc.,
PEDRIDAN.
The Saxon Dialect of Dorsetshire. [See Note 16.]
[1840, Part I., pp. 31-33.]
The observations which your correspondent PEDRIDAN made in your Magazine for
September on the Saxon character of the dialect of Devonshire, have induced
me to send you a few on that of my native county, Dorsetshire.
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(delwedd D4373) (tudalen 042)
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42 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
This dialect, which is purer and more regular than that which has been
adopted as the national speech, is, I think, with little variation, that of
most of those western parts of England which were included in the kingdom of
the West Saxons, and has come down by independent descent from the Saxon
dialect which our forefathers, the followers of Cerdic and Cynric, Porta,
Stuf, and Wihtgar, brought from the South of Denmark, and the Saxon islands
Nordstrand, Busen, and Heligoland. It is a broad, bold, rustic shape of the
English, as the Doric was of the Greek; rich in humour, strong in raillery,
powerful in hyperbole, and altogether as fit a vehicle of rustic feeling and
thought as the Doric is found in the Idyllia of Theocritus.
But to take up the subject of my letter its affinity with the Saxon. It is
very remarkable as retaining in the perfect participle of verbs a syllabic
augment which is found in Anglo-Saxon and German, though the English has lost
it. In German this augment is ge, as GK-hangen, hung from hangen, to hang;
GE-sungen, sung from singen, to sing; GK-sehen, seen from sehen, to see.
In Saxon it is GE or A, the latte'r of which is that retained in Dorsetshire,
as:
He've A-lost his hatchet He has lost his ax. He've A.-vound his hoss. He has
found his horse.
A.-SAXON. Paulus GE-t>undenv?ea.rih GK-sendtQ Rome. Sax. Chr.A.D. 50.
DORSET. Paul K-bound wer &-zent to Rome.
A. -SAXON. Simon se apostle wses K-hangen. Sax. Chr. A.D. 90.
DORSET. Simon the 'possle wer A.-hang'd.
A.-SAXON. Cenwalhcing waes k-dryven of his rice. Sax. Chr. A.D. 645.
DORSET. King Kenwalk wer &.-drove vrom his kingdom.
The present tense indicative mood sing, of the verb to be is,
DORSET. A. -SAXON.
I be Ic beo
Thou bist Thu byst
He is He ys.
Against is in the Dorset dialect and Anglo-Saxon agien.
The demonstrative pronoun that is in the Dorset dialect thick, with the th
soft, as in the; and thick is clearly a corruption of the A.-Sax. thy ylca,
in Scotch the ilk, meaning the same.
A.-Saxon. Thyylcan%sxt hie gefuhton with Bryttas. Sax. Chr. A.D. 519. DORSET.
Thick year tha fought with the Britons.
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(delwedd D4374) (tudalen 043)
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The Saxon
Dialect of Dorsetshire. 43
The pronoun this is in Dorset dialect thicz, in A. -Sax. tJieos him en hine
a plough (aratrurn) a zul sul
a woodpigeon a woodculver culfer, a dove.
The word rather, as in the expression I would rather die than do such an
action, means, sooner or earlier, and is the comparative degree of an adverb
rathe, which is lost from national English, though in the vale of Blackmore
natale solum meum the expression “I wer up rathe this marnen," for “I
was up early this morning," is in common use.
To drong is in Dorset to crowd or press, as drdngen is in German; and a
hangen is the slope or side of a hill, which the Germans call abhang.
Many verbs that are irregular in the national language are conjugated
regularly in the dialect of the West. The imperfect tenses of the verbs blow,
build, catch, and crow, for examples; being blowed builded, catched, and
crowed.
The Dorset dialect, in most cases, substitutes the diphthongal sound ia or ya
for the long a, as that in tale, bake, cake, hate, late, making these words
tiale, biake, kiake, Mate, Hate; the very change which the Spanish language
has made in the same sound, that of e in many Italian words, such as bene,
certo, inverno, serra, tempo, and vento, which
are in Spanish bien, cierto, invierno, sierra, tiempo, and viento; and in like
manner the o long of English words, such as bold, cold, fold, more, oak, and
rope, is commonly preceded by u in our dialect, in which those words become
buold, cuold, vuold, muore, woak, and mope; a change of which we find
examples in Italian in such words as buono, cuore, luogo, and uomo, from the
Latin bonus, cor, locus, and homo, though in these cases the u is not sounded
so strongly as it is in the Dorsetshire words.
The initial f of English words is commonly rejected for its softer cognate v
in the Dorset dialect, while in the Swedish language/ is pronounced as v at
the end of words.
The study of the provincial dialects would open to philologists much that is
yet unknown of the structure of the English language, and most likely lead
them nearer to the true pronunciation of the Anglo-Saxon.
Yours, etc.,
W.' BARNES.
Exmoor Courtship: Or, A Devonshire Dialogue.
[See Note 17.] [1746, pp. 297-300.]
There is no accounting for the sudden transition in the mind from
one subject to another. 1 believe you will scarce see the least
marks of connection, and yet I found several, between the pieces
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(delwedd D4375) (tudalen 044)
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44 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
mentioned in your entertaining account of the French Theatre, and the
pastoral which I here inclose, and (pardon the liberty) recommend to a place
in your magazine. The dramatic piece entitled a "Morality," ante p.
200 [See Note 18] which condemns extravagant Feasting, gave me so great
pleasure, that I really think, a delightful Farce, or comitragic opera might
be composed under this title. The trial and condemnation of Sir John
Feasting, and Humphry Gluttony, Esq., for the horrid murder of 17 lords, 5
bishops, 29 members of parliament, 123 liverymen, 606 free-holders and
free-burgesses, besides a great number cruelly wounded, and disabled in their
limbs, since the dissolution of last parliament; together with the humours of
Sir Timothy Good-company, Roger I-drink-to-you, Harry Goodfellow, etc.,
Esquires; especially, if a genius like Hogarth's was to dress these
characters, with those of Mess. Remedy, Pill, Clyster, Dropsy, Quinsy, Jaundice, etc. This piece however contributed very
little to the recollection of the inclosed, no further than that I fancy'd
they might both be brought on some of our stages with success; and probably
from this hint, the manager of Goodman's fields may try one of them, when his
run of Culloden fight is over. But to come to the point it was that passage,
p. 199 B., of the cursed child who killed his father, hanged his mother, and
at last went distracted, which fetch 'd back to my memory a like passage
about the ballad, in the following dialogue, and caused me to peruse the
whole again; and as I had more than once read it before, and still with
pleasure, I guess it will be entertaining to others. It was first written by
a clergyman of Devonshire, near the forest of Exmoor; but, I believe, has
received some additions.
I am your obliged monthly subscriber,
H. OXON.
P.S. If you please to insert this letter, I could wish you would add a
request that your correspondents in other counties would favour the public by
your means with as good and as copious a sample of their particular dialects,
and that some of them would send us the meaning of the words, which I have
marked with an asterism, for I cannot so much as guess at it.
EXMOOR COURTSHIP:
Or, A Suitoring Discourse, in the Devonshire Dialect and Mode, near the
forest of Exmoor.
THE PERSONS.
ANDREW MOORMAN, a young farmer. MARGERY VAGWELL, his sweetheart. Old gammer
NELL, gammer to MARGERY. TAMSIN, sister to MARGERY.
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(delwedd D4376) (tudalen 045)
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Exmoor
Courtship. 45
SCENE. Margery's House. To MARGERY enter ANDREW.
And. How geeth et, Cozen Magery?
Mar. Hoh! cozen Andra, how d'ye try?
A. Come, let's shake honds, thof kissing be-scarce.
M. Kissing's plenty enow; but chud zo leefe kiss tha back o' ma bond, as e'er
a man in Challacomb, or eet in Paracomb; no dispreise.
A. Es don't believe thek, and eet es believe well too. (Zwop! he kisses and
smuggles her. )
M. Hemph! Oh! the vary vengeance out o' tha! Tha hast a creem'd ma yearms,
and a'morst a burst ma neck. Well, bet, vor oil, how dost try, ees zay, cozen
Andra? Ees hant a zee'd ye a gurt while.
A. Why, fath, cozen Magery, nort marchantable, e'er zince es scor'st a tack
or two wey Rager Trogwell, t'ather day. Bet, zugs! es trem'd en, and vagg'd
en zo, that he'll veel et vor wone while, chell warndy.
M. How, cozen Andra! Why ees thort ee couden a vort zo.
A. Why, 'twas oil about t/iee, mun; vor es chan't hire an eel word o' tha.
M. How! about me .' why, why vore about me, good zweet now? Of a ground ha
can zay no harm by ma.
A. Well, well, no matter. Es cou'den hire tha a run down, and a roilad upon
zo, and zet still leke a mumchance, and net pritch en vor't.
M. Why, whot, and be hang'd to en, cou'd a zey o' me, a gurt meazel?
A. Es begit tha words now; bet ha roilad zo, that es cou'dent bear et Bet a
deden't looze his labour, fath; vor es toz'd en, es lamb'd en, es lace'd en, es thong'd en, es drash'd en, es
drumm'd en, es
tann'd en to tha true *ben, fath. Bet stap! cham avore ma story. Zes I,
“Thee! thee art a pretty vella!" Zes he, “Gar! thee castn't make a
pretty vella o' ma." "No, agar," zes I, "vor th'art too
ugly to be made a pretty vella, that true enow." Gar, ha wos woundy mad
than. “Chell try thek," zes he. “As zoon's tha wut," zes I. Zo up
ha roze, and to't we went. Vurst ha geed ma a whisterpoop under tha year, and
vorewey ha geed ma a vulch in tha leer. Add, then ees rakad up, and tuck en
be tha collar, and zo box'd en, and zlapp'd en, that es made hes kep *hoppy,
and hes yead addle to en.
M. Well, ees thank ye, cozen Andra, vor taking wone's peart zo. Bet cham
*agest eel go vor a warrant vor ye, and take ye bevore tha cun-sabel; and
then ye mey be bound over, and be vorst to gi'n t'Exeter to zizes; and than
ha mey zwear tha peace of es, you know. Es en et better to drenk vriends and
make et up?
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(delwedd D4377) (tudalen 046)
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46 Lists
of Local Words and Specimens of Dialect.
A. Go vor a warrant! Ad! let 'en, let en go; chell not bender en: Vor there's
Tom Vuss can take hes cornoral oath thet he begun vurst. And if ha do's,
chell ha' as good a warrant vor he as he can vor me, don't quesson't: Vor tha
turney into Moulton knows me, good now, and has had zome zweet pounds o'
veather bevore ha dy'd. And if he's a meended to go to la, es can spend vorty
or vifty shillings as well's he. And zo let en go, and wipe whot ha zets upon
a zindeys wi' hes warrant. Bet hang en, let's ha' nort more to zey about en;
vor chave better bezneze in hond a gurt deal.
(He takes hold of her, and paddles in her neck and bosom.}
M. Come, be quiet; be quiet, ees zay, a grabbling o' wone's tetties. Ees
won't ha' ma tetties a grabbled zo; ner ees won't be zo mullad and foulad.
Stand azide; come, gi' o'er.
A. Lock, lock! How skittish we be now! Yow weren't zo skittish wey Kester
Hosegood up to Daraty Vuzz's up-zetting. No, no, yow weren't zo skittish
than, ner zo squeamesh nether. He murt mully and foully tell ha wos weary.
M. Ees believe the vary dowl's in voke vor leeing.
A. How! zure and zure, you won't deny et, wull ye, whan oil the voaken took
noteze o' et?
M. Why, cozen Andra, thes wos the whole sump o' tha bezneze. Chaw'r in wey en
to donee; and whan tha donee was out, tha crowd cry'd “Squeak squeak, squeak
squeak" (as ha uzeth to do, you know) and ha cort ma about tha neck, and
wouden't be a zed bet ha woud kiss ma, in spite o' ma, do what ees coud to
hender en. Es coud a borst tha crowd in shivers, and tha crowder too, a foul
slave as ha wos, and hes veddlestick to tha bargen.
A. Well, well, es b'ent angry mun. And zo let's kiss and vriends. (Kisses
her,} Well, bet cozen Magery, oil thes while es han't a told tha my arrant;
and chave on* ever arrant to tha, mun.
M. (Simpering) Good sweet now, whot arrant es et? Ees marl whot arrant ee can
ha to me.
A. Why, vath, chell tell tha. Whot zignavies et to mence the matter? Tes
these; volus nolus wut ha' ma?
M. Jfa' ma? Whot's thek? Ees can't tell what ye
me-an by thek.
A. Why, than, chall tell tha vlat and plean. Yow know es kep Challacomb-moor
in hond; 'tes vull-statad*: Bet cham to chonge a live vor dree yallow-beels.*
And than thare's tha lant up to Parracomb town; and whan es be to Parracomb,
es must ha' wone that es can trest to look arter thee *girred-teal'd meazels,
and to zar tha ilt* and tha barra, and melk tha kee to Challacomb, and to
look arter the thengs of tha houze.
M. O varjuice! Why, cozen Andra, a good steddy
zarrant can do oil thes.
A. Po, po, po! chell trest no zarrants. And more an zo, than
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(delwedd D4378) (tudalen 047)
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Exmoor
Courtship. 47
they'll zey by me as they ded by geffer Hill t'ather day: They made two beds,
and ded g'in to wone. No, no, es ban't zo mad
nether. Well,
bet, lock, dost zee, cozen Magery; zo vur yore es tha wut ha ma, chell put
thy live upon Parracomb-down. 'Tes wor twanty nobles a year, and a purse to
put min in.
M. O vile! Whot, marry? No; chan't ha' tha
best man in Challacomb, ner eet in Parracomb. Na, chell ne'er marry, vor
ort's know. No, no, they zey thare be more a marry'd aready than can boil tha
crock o' zendeys. No, no, cozen Andra, cud amorst zwear chudn't ha tha best
squaer in oil Ingland. Bet, come; prey, cozen Andra zet down a lit. Ees murst
g'up in chamber, and speak a word or two wey zister Tamzin. Hare's darning up
of old blankets, and rearting* tha peels, and snapping o' vleas. Ees'll come
agen prezently.
A. Well, do than; bet make haste, d'ye zee. Mean time chell read o'er the new
ballet chave in ma pocket.
M. New ballet! O good now, let's hire you zing it up.
A. Zing! No, no; 'tes no zinging ballet, mun: bet 'tes a godly wone, good
now.
M. Why, whot's about, than?
A. Why, 'tes about a boy that kill'd hes veather; and how hes veather went
agen, in shape of a gurt voul theng, wi' a cloven voot, and vlashes o' vire,
and troubled tha house zo, that the whotjecomb, tha whit-witch, was vorst to
lay en in the Red-Zea; and how tha boy repented, and went distracted, and was
taen up, and was hang'd vor't, and zung saums, and zed hes prayers. 'Twull do
your heart good to hire et, and make yowcry
lick enny theng. Thare's tha picture o'en too, and the parson, and tha dowl,
and tha ghost, and tha gallows.
M. Bet es et true, bezure?
A. True! O la! yes, yes; Es olweys look to that. Look's zee; 'tes here in
prent, lisserid according to order. That's olweys prented on what es true,
mun. Es took care to zee that, whan es bort 'en.
M. Well, well, read et; and chell g'up to zester.
SCENE the chamber. To TAMZEN enter MARGERY.
M. Oh; zester Tamzen! Odd! ee es a come along, and fath and trath hath a put
vore the quesson to ma a ready. Ees very b'leive tha banes wull g' in next
zindey. 'Tis oil es ho' vor. Bet es tell en, marry a-ketha! and tell en
downreert es chant marry tha best man in Sherwill-hunderd. Bet dest hire ma,
zester Tamzen? Don'tee be a labb o' tha tongue in what cham a going to zey,
and than chell tell tha zometheng. The banes, cham a'most zure, wull g'in
other a Zendey, or a Zendey-zenneert to vurdest. E's not abo' two and twenty;
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48 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
a spicy vella, and a vitty vella vor enny keendest theng. Thee know'st Jo
Hosegood es reckon'd a vitty vella: Poo! ees a zooterly vella to Andra;
thare's no compare.
T. Go, ya wicked countervit! why dost lee zo agenst tha meend; and whan ha
put vore tha quesson tell enthawudstn't marry? Bezides, zo vur as know'st, ha
murt take pip o', and meach off, and come no more anearst tha.
M, Go, you alkitole! yow gurt vullesh trapes! Best thee thenk ee believead
ma, whan ees zed chudn't marry? Eees net zo zart-abaked nether. Vor why? Ees
wudn't be too vurword nether; vor than ee murt dra back. No, no; vor oil
whot's zed, ees hope tha banes wull g'in, ees zey, next Zundey. And vath, nif
s do vail over tha desk, 'twont *thir ma, ner borst ma bones. Bet nif they
don't g'in by Zendey-zenneert, chell tell tha, in shoort company, es shall
borst ma heart. Bet ees must go down to en; vor he's by es zel oil thes
while.
SCENE the ground-room again. To ANDREW enter MARGERY.
A. Well, cozen Magery; cham glad you're come agen: vor thes ballet es so very
good, thar et makes wone's heart troubled to read et.
M. Why, put et up than while ees get a putcher o' zyder. Will ee eat a croust
o' bread and cheeze, cozen Andra?
A. No, es thankee, cozen Magery; vor es eat a crub as es came along; bezides
es went to denner jest avore. Well, bet cozen Magery, whot onser do'st gi ma
to tha quesson es put vore nowreert
M. What quesson was et?
A. Why, zure, yow ar'n't zo vorgetvul. Why, the quesson es put a little
rather.
M. Ees don't know whot quesson ee mean; ees begit what quesson 'twos.
A. Why, to tell tha vlat and plane agen, 'twos thes: “Wut ha ma, ay or
no?"
M. Whot! marry to earteen? Ees gee the zame onser ees gee'd avore, ees wudn't
marry tha best man in oil Ingland. Ees cud amorst zwear chud ne'er marry at
oil. No more chon't vor ort's know. And more an zo, cozen Andra, cham a told
you keep company wey Tamzen Hosegood, thek gurt banging, thonging, muxy
drawbreech, daggle-teal'd jade, a zower-sop'd, yerring, chockling trash, a
buzzomchuck'd haggaging moyle, a gurt fustilug. Hare's a trub. And nif you keep
hare company, ees '11 ha no more to zey to tha.
A. Ay, this is Jo Hosegood's flimflam. Oh tha vary vengeance out o'en.
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(delwedd D4380) (tudalen 049)
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Exmoor Courtship. 49
M. No, no; tes none of Jo Hosegood's flimflam; bet 20 tha crime of tha
country goeth.
A. Ah, bet 'twos Jo Hosegood's zetting vore in tha vurst place. Ha wull lee a
rope upreert. Whan ha hath a took a shord and a paddled, ha wull tell doil,
and tell dildrams, and roily upon enny kesson zoul. Add! nif es come athert
en, chell gi' en a lick; cheli lay en o'er the years; chell plim en, chell
toze en, chell cotten en, chell thong en, chell tann en; chell gi' en a strat
in tha chups; chell vag en, chell trem en, chell drash en, chell curry hes
coat vor en; chell drub en, chell make hes kep hoppy. Add! chell gi' en zutch
a zwop! chell gi' en a whapper, and a wherret, and a whisterpoop too: Add!
chell baste en to tha true benn.
(Speaks in a great passion, and shews with his hands Jwiu he'll beat his
adversary.}
M. Lock, lock, lock! cozen Andra! vor why vore be ee in zitch a vustin fume?
Why, ees don't zey 'twos Jo Hosegood zes zo, bet only that zo tha crime o'
tha country goeth.
A. Well, well, cozen Magery, be't how twull, whot caree I? And zo, good-buy,
good-buy t'ye, cozen Magery. Nif voaken be jealous avore they be married, zo
they mey arter. Ay ay, zo they mey arter. Zo good-buy, cozen Magery. Chell
not trouble yow agen vor wone while, chell warndy. [Going.
M. (calling after him}. Bet hearky, hearky a bit, cozen Andra! Ees wudn't ha'
ye go away angry nether. Zure and zure you won't deny to zee ma drenk, wull
ye? Why, you han't a tasted our zyder yet (A. returns.} Come, cozen Andra,
here's tee.
A. Na, vor that matter, es owe no illwill to enny kesson, net I. Bet es won't
drenk, nether, except yow vurst kiss and vriends. (Kisses her.}
M. Yow won't be a zed (he drinks} Well, bet hearkee, cozen Andra, won't ye
g'up and zee grammer avore ye g'up to Challacomb? 'Tes bet jest over tha
paddack and along the park.
A. Es caren't much nif's do go zee old ont Nell. And how do hare tare along?
M. Rub along, d'ye zey? Oh! grammer's wor vour hunderd pounds, reckon tha
goods indoor and out a door.
A. Cham glad to hire et: vor es olweys thort her to ha' be bare buckle and
thongs.
M. Oh! no, no, mun: hare's mearty well to pass, and maketh gurt account of
me, good now.
A. Cham glad to hire o' thek too. Mey be, hare mey gi' tha a good stub. Come
let's g'ender than.
(Takes her arm under /it's, and leads her.)
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(delwedd D4381) (tudalen 050)
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50 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
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SCENE Old Gammer NELL'S. To her enter ANDREW and MARGERY.
A. Good den, good den, ount Nell. Well, how d'ye try? How goeth et wi' ye?
Old Nell. Why, vath, cozen Andra, pritty, vitty, whot's chur. Chad a glam or
two about ma. Chad a crick in ma back, and in ma niddick. Tho chawr a lamps
'd in wone o' ma yearms. Tho come to a heartgun: vorewey struck out and came
to a *barngun: tho come to an *allernbatch: and vorey veil in upon ma bones,
and come to a boneshave.* But e'er zince the old Jilian Vrinkle blessed vore,
'tes pritty vitty; and cham come to ma meat-list agen. Well, but hearky,
Cozen Andra: Ees hire yow lick a lit about ma cozen Magery, ay and have
smeled about her a pritty while. Chawr a told that yow simmered upon wone
t'ather up to Grace Vrogwell's bed-ale. Well, cozen Andra, 'twell do vary
well vor both. No matter how zoon. Cham oil vore, and zo chaw'r zo zoon's ees
hired o't. Hare's net as zome giglets, zome prenking mencing thengs be, oil
vor gamboyling, rumping, steehopping, ragrouting, and gigletting; bet a
tyrant maid vor work, and tha stewardlest vittest wanch that comath on tha
stones o' Moulton, no dispreise.
M. (softly aside to her). Thenkee, grammer, thenkee keendly. And nif s
shou'dn't ha' en, shou'd borst ma heart (aloud] Good grammer, don't tell me
o' marrying. Chave a told cozen Andra ma meend aready, that chell ne'er
marry, vor ort's know.
Old Nell. Stap hather, cozen Magery, a lite, and tern these cheesen.
(Pretendedly private to her. ) Go, you alketole, why dest tell zo, tha'rt
ne'er marry? Tha wutten ha' tha' leek; a comely sprey vitty vella vor enny
keendest theng. Come, nif tha wut ha' en, chell gi' tha a good stub. There's
net a spryer vella in Challacomb.
M. Bet, grammer, wullee be zo good's yow zey, nif zo be, vor your zake, ees
do vorce ma zel to let en lick a bit about ma.
Old Nell. Ay, es tell tha. (aside) Cham agest hare'll dra en into a promish
wone dey or wother.
A. Well, ount Nell, es hired whot yow zed, and es thank yow too Bet now chave
a zeed ye, 'tes zo good as chad eat ye, as they uze to zey. Es must go home
now as vast as es can. Cozen Magery, won'tee go wi' ma a lit wey?
M. May be ees may g'up and zee ont Moreman, and may be ees man't. [Exeunt.
SCENE The open Country. Enter ANDREW, followed by MARGERY.
M. Add! ees '11 zee en up to Challacomb- Moor stile. Now must ees make wise
chawr a going to ont Moreman's, and only come thes wey.
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(delwedd D4382) (tudalen 051)
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Exmoor Courtship.
A. (spying her). Cozen Magery, cozen Magery!
stap a lit: whare so vast, mun? (She stays.} Zo, now es zee yow be zo good as
yer word, na, and better; vor tha zedst "may be chell, and may be
chon't."
M. Oh, yow take tha words father wey. Ees zed, “may be chell, and may be
chon't g'up and zee ont Moreman." Ees zed no more an zo. Ees go thes wey
to zee hare, that's oil. Bet chud'nt go zo vur to meet enny man in
Challacomb, ner Parracomb, ner eet in oil king George's kingdom, bless hes
worship! Meet tha men aketha! Hah! be quiet, ees zey, a creeming a body zo.
And more an zo, yar beard precketh ill-vavourdly. Ees marl whot these gurt
black beards be good vor. Yow ha made ma chucks buzzom.
A. Well whot's zey, cozen Magery? Chell put in tha banes a Zendey, volus
nolus.
M. Than ees '11 vorbed men, fath.
A. Oh! chell trest tha vor thek. Es don't thenk yow'll take zo much stomach
to yare zel as to vorbed men avore zo many voker. Well, cozen Magery, good
neart.
M. Cozen Andra, good neart. Ees wish you well to do.
SCENE MARGERY'S Home. To TAMZEN enter MARGERY singing.
M. Zister Tamzin, whare art? Whare art a popling and a pulching, dost hire
ma?
T. Lock, lock, lock! Whot's the mater, Magery, that tha leapest, and
caperest, and whistlest, and zing'st zo? Whot, art hanteck?
M. That's nort to nobody; chell whistley, and capery, and zing vor oil yow.
Eet a vor oil, nif ta wutten't be a labb of tha tongue now, chell tell tha
zometheng, Zart! whistery. My banes g'in a Zendey, fath, to Andra, tha
spicest vella in Sherwill hunderd.
T. O la! why thare lo! why zo lo! Now we shall be marry'd near together; vor
mine be in and out agen; thof my man don't eet tell me tha day. Ees marl ha
don't pointee whot's in tha meend o' en.
M. Chell g'in to Moulton tomarra pritty *tapely, to buy zome canvest vor a
new holland chonge.
T. Ay, ay, zo do; vor tha casen't tell whot mey happen to tha in tha middle
banes.
M. How! ya gurt trapes. Whot dest me-an by thek? Ees scorn tha words. Ded ort
happen to thee in thy middle banes? Happen aketha!
T. Hah! ort happen to me in my middle banes? Ees scorn et to tha dert o' ma
shoes, locks zee, ya mincing, *kerying baggage. Varewell.
42
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(delwedd D4383) (tudalen 052)
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52 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
[1746, pp. 352-355-1
AN EXMOOR SCOLDING;
In the Propriety and Decency of Exmoor Language, between two sisters, WILMOT
MOREMAN, and THOMASIN MOREMAN, as they were spinning.
T. Lock! Wilmot, vore why vore ded'st roily zo upon ma up to Challacomb
rowl?* Ees dedn't thenk tha had'st a be' zitch a labb o' tha tongue. What a
vengeance! wart botoatled, or wart tha baggaged; or had'st tha took a shord,
or a paddled?
W. I roily upon tha, ya gurt, thonging, banging, muxy drawbreech? Noa, 'twas
thee roil'st upon me up to Daraty Vrogwill's up-zitting, when tha vung'st to,
and be hang'd to tha! to Rabbin. 'Shoud zem tha wart zeck arter me-at and
me-al. And zo tha merst, by ort I know, wey guttering,* as gutter tha
will'st, whan tha com'st to good tackling. Bet zome zed “Shoor and shoor tha
ded'st bet make wise, to zee whare tha young Josy Heaff-field, wou'd come to
zlack thy boddize, and whare a wou'd be O vore* or no." But 'twas thy
old disyease, chun.
T. Hey go! what disyease dest me-an, ya gurt, dugged-teal'd, zwopping,
rousling blowze? Ya gurt roile, tell ma. Tell ma, a zey, what disyease dest
me-an? Ad! chell ream my heart to tha avore is let tha lipped.* Chell tack et
out wi' tha to tha true ben, fath! Tell ma, a zey, what disyease dest me-an
that tha zest cham a troubled wey?
W. Why, ya purting, tatchy, stertling, ghowering, prinking, mincing theng,
chell tell tha what disyease. Is dedn't me-an the boneshave, ner the
heartgun, ner the Allernbatch* that tha had'st in thy niddick. 'Tes better
'twar: vor than ount Annis Moreman cou'd ha' blessed vore, and net ha'
pomster'd about et, as moather ded.
T. What disyease than, ya gurt haggage?
W. Why, e'er zince tha wart tonty, ay zewnteen, and avore, tha hast a be'
troubled wey tha doul vetch tha.
T. What's me-an by that, ya long-hanjed mea-zel? Dist hire ma? Tha call'st ma
stertling roil now-reert. How dedst thee stertlee* upon the zest last harrest
wey the young Dick Vrogwill, whan George Vuzz putch'd? He told ma the whole
fump o' the besneze.
W. Oh! the very vengeance tear tha! Dest thee tell me o' Dick Vrogwill? Why
thee art in a ninniwatch e'ery other torn, nif zo be tha dest but zet zeert
in Harry Vursdon.
T. How! ya gurt, chounting, grumbling, glumping, zower-zwaped, yerring trash!
W. Don't tell me o' glumping: oil the neighbourhooden know thee to be a
ve-aking, blazing,, tiltish hussey.
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(delwedd D4384) (tudalen 053)
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Exmoor Scolding. 53
T. And thee art a crewnting, querking, he-avy, dudded-yess, chockling
baggage.
IV. Net zo chockling, ner it zo crewnting, as thee art, a colting
hobby-horse! Nif tha dest bet go down in the paddick, to stroak the kee, thee
wut come oil a-gerred,* and oil horry zo vurs tha art a vorked; ya
gerred-taal'd, panking, hewstring me-azel! Thee art lick a skittish sture
jest a yooked. Tha wouldst bost any keendest theng, tha art zo vore-reert,
nif vauther dedn't ha-ape tha.
T. Ay, ay! Kester Moreman wou'd ha' be' hove up, nif zo be a had a had tha; a
toteling, wambling, zlottering, zart-aud-vair he-atstool.
IV. Ay, and zo wou'd the young George Vuzz, chun, whan a had a had a
rubracrock, rouzeabout, platvooted, zidlemouth'd swashbucket. Pitha, dest
think enny theng will e'er vittee or gooddee wey zich a whatnosed,
haggage-tooth'd, stare-bason, timersome, rixy,* wapperee'd theng as thee art?
T. Dest hire ma? Oil the crime o' the country goth, that whan tha liv'st up
to tha cot, tha wert the old Rager Hill's under bedblonket. And more and zo,
that tha wert a chittering, raving, racing, buzzom-chuck'd, rigging,*
louching h,aggaging moil.
W. How! ya confounded trapes! Tell me enny more o' Rager Hill's bed-blonket,
ad! chell pull the poll o' tha, chall plim tha, chell vulch tha, looks zee.
Rager Hill es as honest a man as any in Challacomb; no dispreise.
T. And do thee tell me o' stertling upon the zess, when George Vuzz putch'd,
chell gi' tha a lick; chell lay tha over the years wey the vire-tangs. Ad!
chell ting tha. Thy buzzom chucks were pretty vitty avore tha mad'st thy zell
therle, and they vlesh oil wangery, and they skin oil flagged, with nort but
agging, and veaking, and tiltishness.
W. Bed-blonket akether! Ha! zey zitch a word more, chell cotton thy
wastecoat. Chell thong tha, chell gi tha' zitch a strat in tha chups, ya
grizzledemundy.
T. Me a strat in the chups? Dest hire ma? Come a neest me, chell pummel tha,
chell vag tha, chell lace tha.
W. Thee lace ma? Chem a laced well afine aready. Zey wone word more, and
chell bresh tha, chall make thy boddize pilmee.
T. How a man a zed! make my boddize pilmee? Add! if e'er tha squeak'st wone
word more o' the bed-blonket, chell trim tha, chell crown tha, chell vump
tha.
W. Why dedst thee tell me o' the zess, or it of the hey-pook, as tha dedst
whileer; Chell drub tha, chell curry thy scabbed yess var tha.
T. Why dedst thee, than, tell me 'isterday o' losting my rewden hat in the
rex-bush, out to whorting? and more and zo, that the young Tom Vuzz shou'd
le-ave he's codglove* Ad! a word more o' tha
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(delwedd D4385) (tudalen 054)
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54 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
young Tom Vuzz. chell baste tha, chell stram tha, chell drash tha; chell make
thy kepp hoppee, wi' thy Vlanders lace upon't.
W. Vlanders lace! Whet's me-an by that, ha-ah? Tell me enny more o' Vlanders
lace, chell make thy yead addle. Chell up wi ma veest, and gi' tha a
whisterpoop, and zitch a zwop as shall make tha veel me, looks zee!
T. Gi' me a zwop? Ad! chell gi' tha a wherret, or a zlat in the chups or up
wi' thy dugged coats, and tack tha gre-asy yess o' tha.
W. Thee tack me, ya unlifty, ill-hearty, untidy me-azel? Andra wou'd ha' had
a trub in tha, nif's vauther hadn't a strat the match.
T. How, dem? a trub? Go, ya rearing, snapping, tedious, cutted snibblenose!
Th'art olweys a vustled up in an old jump, or a whittle, or an old seggard,
avore zitch times as Neckle Halse comath about: Than tha wut prinkee. Thee
hast a let the kee go zoo vor want of strocking. It a vor oil th'art an
abomination pinchvart vor thy own eends. Ay, ya! shoort,* Wilmot, shoort!
Zwer thy torn; or else tha tedst net carry whome thy pad, and meet Neckle
Halse by tha wey. He'll meet tha in the vuzzy-park coander be cockleert, or
avore, chell warndy.
W. Tell ma wone word o' Neckle Halse, chell skull tha, tha hastn't a be' a
skull'd zo vor wone while. Ya gurt fustilugs! The old Mag Dawkins es but a
huckmuck to tha. Zet tha about ort, why, tha dest thengs vore and back, a
cathamm'd, a vore-reert, and vramp-shapen, like a totle.
T. How! ya long-hanjed trapes! ya blowmonget baarge! Thee wut coalvarty*
a-bed avore bevore-days. Th'art zo deeve as a haddick in chongy weather. Or
when 'tes avrore, or a scratcht the le-ast theng out, or whan snewth, or
blunketh, or doveth, or in scatty weather, or in a tingling vrost, than tha
art theck-lifted, and behang'd to tha.
W. And thee art a lams'd in one o' thy yearms, and can'st net zee a sheen in
thy reert ee.
T. Rex-bush! Fath! tell me o' tha rex-bush, ya teeheing pixy! Es marl who's
more vor rigging or rumping, steehopping or ragrowtering, giggleting or
gambowling ,than thee art thyzel. Pitha, destn't remember whan tha comest
over the clam wi' tha old Hugh Hosegood, whan tha wawter wos by stave, how
tha velst in, and the old Hugh drade thee out by tha vorked eeend, wi' thy
dugged clathers up zo vur as thy na'el, whan tha wart just a buddled?
W. Lock! dest dwallee,* or tell doil? Pitha, tell reazanable, or hold thy
popping, ya gurt washamouch.
So ends the first bout.
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(delwedd D4386) (tudalen 055)
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Exmoor Scolding. 55
BOUT THE SECOND.
W. Dist hire ma, dem? Chell ha tether vinny wi' tha. Tha toldst ma now-reert,
or a whilere, of rigging and rumping, steehopping and ragrowtring, giggleting
and gamboyling. What's me-an by that? But thee, thee wut ruckee, and
squattee, and doatee in the chimly coander lick an axwaddle; and wi' the zame
tha wut rakee up, and gookee, and tell doil, tell dildrams and buckingham
Jenkins. Ay, ay, poor Andra Vurdson wud ha' had a rigmutton rumpstall in tha,
nif tad net ha' be' strat. A wud ha' had a coad, riggleting, parbreaking,*
piping body in tha; olwey wone glam or nether. And more an zo, there's no
direct to hot tha tell'st. Tha wut feb et herrtily. Na, tha wut lee a rope
outreert. Chad I most a borst my guts wi' laughing, whan's zee'd tha whilere
trapesee hum from tha Yeoanna Lock, thy shoes all besh , thy hozen muxy up zo
vurs thy gammerels* to tha very hucksheens*o tha, thy gore coat oil a girred,
thy head-clathing oil a foust; thy wastcoat oil horry,* and thy pancrock* a
kiver'd wi' brifs and buttons.
T. Why thare zo! Bet dist net thee thenk, ya long-hanjed trapes, that tha
young Josy Yeaff-field wud ha' be' placad, whan ha had a zitch a crowdling
theng as thee art? Eart lundging, eart squatting upen thy tether eend. Zey
ort to tha, why tha wut twitch up thy teal, and drow up thy noaze, and take
owl o' or take pip o'. Nif won zey tha le-ast theng out, tha wut purtee a
zinnet arter.
W. How, hussey! ya confounded trash! Dist remember whan tha wenst out in tha
Vuzzey-park, in the desk o' tha yeaveling, jest in tha dimmet, wi' tha young
Humphry Hosegood, and how ha mulled and foulad about tha? Ha bed tha zet
down; and tha zedst tha wudst net, nif ha ded net blow tha down. Zo ha
blow'd, and down tha valst. Who shud be hard by (vor 'twas in the dimmet) but
the square's bealy; and vorewey ha cry'd out that oil windvalls belongad to's
measter. Wi' tha zame tha splettest away down the pennet hilter skilter as if
tha dowl had ha' be' in tha heels o' tha.
T. Oh the dowl splet tha! who told theckee strammer?
W. Why, 'twas thee thy own zel up to stooling o' terras.*
T, Oh! a plague confound tha! dest tha thenk ees ded tell't to tha, to ha' et
a drode vore agen? Well, 'tes well a fine. I can drow vore worse spalls than
that to tell; Ad! I cud rep tha up.
W. What, a dowl, and be hang'd to tha, canst tha drow vore to me?
T. How many times have es a hord tha, and a zeed tha, pound savin, to make
metcens, and leckers, and caucheries, and slotters? 'Tes good to know vor why
vore.
W. Oh! a plague rat tha! Ya mulligrub gurgin! ya shug meazel! Th'art good vor
nort bet a gapes-nest. A gottering hawcha mouth
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(delwedd D4387) (tudalen 056)
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56 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
theng! Whan tha com'st to good tackling, tha wut poochee, and hawchee, and
scrumpee; tha wut net look vor lathing,* chell warndy; and nif et be
loblolly, tha wut slop et oil up.
T. How a man a zed! How dedst thee poochee, and hawchee, and scrumpee, whan
tha young Zaunder Vursdon and thee stey'd up oil tha neert a roasting o'
taties? pritch* tha vor me! Why, than, tha wut be a prilled,* or a muggard,*
a zennet outreert; and more an zo, thee wut rowcast, nif et be tha own
veather. Nif tha beest a zend to vield wi' tha drenking, or ort, to tha
voaken, whare they be shooling o' beat, or handbeating, or angle-bowing, nif
tha com'st athert Rager Hosegood, tha wut lackee an over-while avore tha
com'st, and ma' be net trapesee hum avore the desk o' tha yeaveling, ya
blow-maunger ba-arge! Oil vor palching about to hire less, to vine-dra voaks.
Whan tha goest to tha melking o' tha kee, in tha vuzzy-park, thee wut come
oil a dugged, and thy shoes oil mux, and thy whittle oil besh . Tha wut let
tha cream chorn be oil horry, and let tha melk be buckard in buldering
weather.
W. Tell me o' Rager Hosegood, chell make thy kepp hoppee. Ay, ay, ees marl
hot to tha vengeance tha young Zaunder Vursdon mid ha' had a do wi' tha, nif
ha had a had tha. Vor why? Tha hast no stroil no docity, no vittiness in enny
keendest theng. Tha cortst tha nated yeo now-reert, or bet leet rather,
laping o'er tha Yeoanna Lock: (Chell tell veather o't zo zoon es ha cometh
hum vrom angle bowing,* don't question't). Hot ded tha yeo do, whan tha
had'st a cort en be tha heend legs (bet vurst ha button'd; 'tes a marl 'tad
net a vailed into tha pancrock as uzeth to do) bet thof ha ded viggee and
potee, and towsee, and tervee, and loustree, and spudlee, and wriggled, and
pawed, and wraxled, and rattled, and teared, vig vig, vig vig, yet rather
than tha wudst ha enny more champ,* and holster,* and tanbast* wi' en, tha
tookst en, and dedst wetherly bost tha neck o'en.
T. And nif tha dest pick prates upon me, and tell veather o', chell tell a
zweet rabblerote upon thee, locks zee. Vor whan tha shudst be about thy
yeaveling's chuers, tha wut spudlee out tha yewmors, and screedle over men.
And more an zo, thee wut roily eart upon wone, and eart upon another, zet
voak to bate, lick a gurt ba-arge as tha art: And than getfer Rager Sherwell
he must qualify't agen. Whan tha art zet agog, tha desn't caree who tha scullest:
'Twos olweys thy uze and chem agest tha wut vore an e'en. Tha hast tha very
daps o' thy old muxy ont Sybly Moreman upazet.
W. Why, ya gurt roil, chant zo bad's thee. Thee wut ha' a hy to enny kessen
soul. Than tha wut chocklee, and bannee, and blazee, and roundshave enny body
that deth bet zey ay to tha. Tha wudst buy tha cot up to town rather than thy
live; bet tha hasn't tha wharewey; and tha wudst kiss tha yess o' George
Hosegood, to ha' en; bet tha hasn't tha why vor ay.
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(delwedd D4388) (tudalen 057)
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Exmoor Scolding. 57
T. How! ya mulligrub gurgin?
W. And thee art a long-hanjed blowmonger baarge vor telling me o' Neckle
Halse, and tha square's bealy, and tha zess.
T. And thee art a convounded trash vor telling me of an under bed-blonket,
and o' pounding o' savin, and making caucheries and slotters wi't. Tha art a
beagle, chun, pritch tha! vor anether trick. Chad et in my meend, and zo
chave still. But chawnt drow't out bevore tha begen'st agen, and than chell.
W. Hiego! Mrs. Hi-go-shit-a-beagle! And hot are thee? Tha wut drow, and hen,
and slat, slat tha podgers, slat tha crock, slat tha keeve and tha jibb, bost
tha cloam. Tha hast a most a stinned e'ry earthly theng in tha houze.
Absently tha art bygaged. Ay ay, ont Margery was death the near vor tha. Her
moort ha' vet et, nif zo be tha hadst net let her totee up, and do zo ort.
T. Why thare low! Bygaged! And hot dest thee do bet jest now reert? Tha henst
a long thy torn, tha wudst ha' bost en to shivers, nif chat net a vung en,
and a pung'd en back agen. Than tha wut snappy, and than tha wut cunniflee,*
and than tha wut bloggy.*
W. And hot art thee? A bracking mungrel, a skulking meazel! And it a vore oil
good vor nort bet scollee, avore tha art a hoazed* that tha cast scarce
yeppy. Petha, dest thenk enny theng will goodee or vittee wi' enny zitch a
trub as thee art, that dest net cary to zey thy praers? bet wut strammee, and
fibbee, and blazee, and bannee: And more an zo, wut coltee and riggee wi'
enny trolubber thet comath athert tha. And whan tha dest zey men, 'tes bet
whilst tha art scrubbing, hewstring, and riding abed. And, nif by gurt hap
tha dest
zey men at oil, thy marrabones shan't kneelee, thof tha cast
ruckee well a-fine. 'Tes a marl if e'er tha comst to hewn only to zey men;
zence tha ne'er zest men, chell warndy, bet whan tha art half azlape, half
dozy, or scrubbing o' thy scabbed yess, whan tha
art a coal-varting abed, ya gurt lollipot! Tha hasn't tha sense to
stile thy own dressing. Vor why, et 'twul zet, arter tha, ether antlebeer*
lick tha dorns of o door, or wotherwey twul zet along, or weewow, or oil a
puckering. Tha zedst 'twos squelstring and whot while'er. Ad! tha wut be
mickled and a steeved wi' tha cold vore Tandra's Tide, chun, nif tha dest net
buy tha a new whittle.
T. Why, ya gurt kickhammer baggage! thee art good vor no sauze. Thee wut net
break tha cantle-bone o' thy t' other eend wi' cheuring chell warndy; tha wut
net take et zo vreache,* ya sauntering tro-ant!
W. Higo! sauntering tro-ant than! Vor why vore dedst tell wone, than o' tha
rexbush, and tha hey-pook, and tha zess?
T. And why vore dest thee drow vore zetch spalls to me? Go,
pey tha score vor tha lecker tha hast a had zo ort in thy teening bottle.
There's a rumple, chun!
W. Nif tha young George Hosegood had a had tha, ha murt ha
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(delwedd D4389) (tudalen 058)
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58 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
bozed in a little time. Ha wud zoon ha' be' condiddled. It avore
oil, avore voak, tha wut lustree, and towzee, and chewree, and bucklee, and
tear, make wise, as passath: And out of zeert a spare toatle in enny keendest
theng.
T. Why, thare's odds betwe' sh ng and tearing wone's yess.
Wone must net olweys be a boostering, must a? But thee, thee wut steehoppy,
and colty, and hobby, and riggy wi' enny kesson zoul: Oil vor whistering and
pistering, and hoaling and halzening, or cuffing a tale.
W. Ad! tell me o' bobbing and rigging, chell vlee to tha kepp o' tha. [Pulls
her poll.
T. Oh! oh! mo-ather! mo-ather! murder! Oh!
mo-ather! Her hath a chuck'd ma wi' tha chingstey. Ees verly
bleive es shall ne'er vet et. And nif 's don't vet et, looks zee, in a
twelve month and a dey, cuzzen Kester Broom shall see tha a trest up o'
ground. He shall zee tha zwinged, fath!
Enter the Old JULIAN MOREMAN.
JULIAN. Labbe, labbe, soze, labbe, Gi' o'er, gi' o'er, Tamzen.
And thee be olweys wother agging or veaking, gawing or sherking, blazing or
racing, kerping. or speaking cutted, chittering or drawing vore o' spalls,
purling or ghowering, yerring or chounting, taking owl o' wone theng or pip
o' t'ather, chockling or pooching, ripping up or round-shaving wone t'ether,
stivering or grizzeling, tacking or busking, aprill'd or a muggard, blogging
or glumping, rearing or snapping, vrom candle-douting to candle-teening in
tha yeaveling, gurt hap else.
An Exmoor Vocabulary. [See Note 18.]
[1746, //. 405-408.]
On perusing those curious pieces the “Exmoor Courtship and Scolding" in
your Magazine, I find several words mark'd with an asterisk, as wanting an
explanation; and having heretofore liv'd a good while within a few miles of
the forest of Exmoor,* where that dialect is spoken, and heard a good deal of
it, I well remember in what sense all those words are used; which induc'd me
to draw up the inclos'd Vocabulary, for the service of your readers in other
parts, and perhaps it may afford some help to their understanding our old
books. I have added several words that are not to be found either in the
“Exmoor Scolding or Courtship “(tho' not less common in that quarter), and
believe I could recollect as many more, if they would be acceptable. You will
in this Vocabulary find all the words which you have mark'd, and you may
depend on the truth of my
?** This forest is in Somersetshire, and iscall'd Exmoor, from the river Ex
having there its rise.
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(delwedd D4390) (tudalen 059)
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An Exmoor Vocabulary. 59
explanation of every one, except two, of which being in doubt, I have mark'd
them with a Q. It may not be amiss to observe, that tho' it is called "A
Devonshire Dialect," it is not the dialect of the whole county, and that
it would be almost as unintelligible to the inhabitants of the southern parts
of it, as to a citizen of London. Every county, doubtless, has its peculiar
dialect, which among the vulgar, and those who are far remov'd from the more
considerable towns, is generally barbarous enough; and therefore Devonshire
is no more to be ridicul'd on that account, than any other large county: For
I dare affirm that there is as good English in general spoken in some parts
of Devonshire, as in any part ot England.
I can't help observing that the Transcriber of the “Exmoor Courtship"
has committed some blunders, having used the word thek in many places where
an Exmoorian would have said that, and the v instead of/ etc. For tho' it be
very common with them to change /into u, s into z, th into d, etc., yet there
are a great many words in which they never make this change, as flash,
fashion, fine, sea, soul, sad, sarrant (i.e. servant), third, and many
others. It should be observed that they generally use to instead of at; tse,
ees, and ich for I; I cham, or 'chain for I am; 'chell for I shall, etc.,
which was once the general mode of proper speaking throughout the kingdom,
and may be found in many ancient English authors.
I am, etc., DEVONIENSIS.
A Vocabulary of the Exmoor Dialect, containing all such Words in the “Exmoor
Scolding and Courtship," the Meaning of which does not appear by the
Sense; with the Addition of some others; all accented on their proper
Syllables, to show the Method of their Pronunciation (with Notes).
Agest, or agdst, afraid. A'xwaddle, a dealer in ashes, and,
Agging* murmuring, raising sometimes, one that tumbles in
quarrels. them.
'Alkithole, a fool, a silly oaf. Azoon, anon.
'Allernbatch (probably of sElderp, Baggdged, or Bygdged, mad, be
elder, and Bosse, a botch), a witch'd.
kind of botch or old sore. To Bank, to beat.
A-furt, sullen. Banging, large, great.
Aqubtt. See Quott. Bdrngun, a breaking out in small
Art, eight. pimples, or pustles in the skin.
Arteen, eighteen. Bdrra, or Barrow, a gelt pig.
Avrbre, frosty. To the true Ben or Bend (possibly
A'xen, ashes. of Bendan, Sax., to stretch out,
* Egging, or igging-on, is an expression frequently used in most counties,
perhaps to spur on, from aigu, Fr. a point of a spur, or needle.
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(delwedd D4391) (tudalen 060)
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60 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
to yield to), to the purpose, or sufficiently,
to the utmost stretch.
Bewhiver'd, lost to one's self, bewilder'd.
Biird or Berd, bread.
Slaking, crying 'till out of breath.
Blazing, spreading abroad news.
To Blbggy, to be sullen.
Blbiinnaunger^ a fat blow-cheek'd person.
Bbneshave (perhaps from bone spavin, a bony crust growing on a horse's heels,
or the scratches), a kind of horny tumour. Q. [See Note 19.]
Bbostering, labouring busily, so as to sweat.
Bourm, yeest.
Brdndires, a trivet.
Brawn or Broan* a cleft of wood for the fire.
Briss, dust.
Broach, a spit, spindle.
Buckard or Bucked (spoken of milk), soured by keeping too long in the
milk-bucket, or by a foul bucket.
Buldering (weather), sultry hot.
Biirnish, to grow fat, or increase in bulk, look bright, rosy.
Butt, a bee-butt, or hive.
Cat-ham' d, fumbling, without dexterity.
Cduchery, a medicinal composition, or slop.
Champ, a scuffle.
Chdnnest, to challenge.
Chaungeling, an idiot, one whom the fairies have chang'd.
Chaunge, a shirt or shift.
Chbckling, hectoring, scolding.
Chbtmting, quarrelling.
Chuer, a chare, or job of work.
Clathing, clothes.
Cldvel, a chimney-piece.
Cloam, earthenware.
Coad, unhealthy.
Coajerz'eend (i.e. a cordwainer's end), a shoemaker's thread.
Coander, a corner.
Cbckleett (i.e., cock-light), daybreak or (sometimes) the dusk of the
evening.
Cbd-glm>e, a thick glove without fingers, to handle turf.
Condiddled, dispers'd.
Cbnkabell, an icicle (in the Somerset dialect Clinkabell).
Copper-clouts, a kind of splatter dashes worn on the small of the leg.
To Gotten, to beat one soundly.
To Creem, to squeeze or press together.
Creumting, grunting or complaining.
Crock, a pot.
Crmud, a violin.
Crowdling, slow, dull, sickly.
Crub or Croust, a crust of bread or cheese.
Cuffing, expounding on (applied to a tale).
Culvers, pigeons.
Daps, likeness (the very daps of one, the exact likeness in shape or
manners).
Deard, hurried, frighten'd, stunn'd.
Dem! you slut!
Dimmet, the dusk of the evening.
Dinder, thunder.
Dinderex, a thunder-bolt.
Dorns, doorposts.
Dbreth, it thaws.
* As a seam of braunds is a horse-load of
billet -wood, a rick of braunds is a stack of wood cleft for the fire; so
weaken or elmen braunds means cak or elm billets.
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(delwedd D4392) (tudalen 061)
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An Exmoor Vocabulary.
61
Dowl, the devil.
Dreade, thread ) and in general
Dree, three j all words beginning with ///, sound d instead thereof.
To Drou, to dry.
Drumbledrane,*. drone (or humble bee).
Dubbed, blunt.
Diiggedoi Duddfd, draggle-tail'd.
Eart one, eart to'ther, now one, then the other.
Eel-thing, or Ill-thing, St. Anthony's fire.
Elcwn, eleven.
E'-long, slanting.
Elt, see lit.
Ewte, to pour in.
Fitchole, a polecat (fitcher or fitcher, in other counties).
Foust, dirty.
Full-stated, spoken of a leasehold estate that has three lives subsisting on
it.
Fustihiggs, a big-bon'd person.
Gdllied, frighten'd.
Gdllibagger, a bug-bear.
Gdlliment, a great fright.
Gdmmcrell, the small of the leg.
G'and or Gender, go yonder.
Gdnny, a turkey.
Gdbimng, chiding.
Gdpesnest, a raree show, a fine sight.
Geed, gave.
Ghdwerin'g or Jowering, quarrelsome.
Ginged or Jinged, bewitch'd.
Gint orjynt, joint.
Girred, draggle-tail'd.
Glam, a wound or sore.
Glowing, staring.
Glumping,s\i\\er\, or sour-looking.
Griddle, a grid-iron.
Grizzledemundy , a laughing fool, one that grins at every thing.
Grizzling, laughing, smiling.
Gubb, a pandar, or go-between.
Gurt, great.
Guttering, eating greedily (guttling).
Hdggage, a slattern.
Hdlzening, predicting the worst that can happen.
Hanje or Hange, the purtenance of any creature (in Somerset, lamb's head and
purf nance, is the head, heart, liver, and lights).
Hdntick, frantick.
Hare, her, also us'd for She.
Hdrrest, harvest.
Hdwchanwuth, one that talks indecently.
Hdwthern, a kind of hitch, or pin, cut out in an erect board, to hang a coat
on, or the like.
To Henn, to throw.
Hewstring, short-breath'd, wheezing.
Hbrry, mouldy. Q.
To Hoppy, to hop or caper.
Hbzee, to be badly off.
Hiickmuck, a little tiny fellow (thick, stubbed.)
Hucksheens, the hocks or hams.
Husking, shuffling and shrinking up ones' shoulders.
Jacketawdd, an Ignis Fatuus.
lit or Elt, a gelt sow.
Kee, kine or cows.
Kep, a cap.
Kerping, carping, finding fault.
Kittepacks, a kind of buskins.
Labb, a blab.
To Lackee, to be wanting from home.
Lamps' d, lam'd or hurted.
Lathing, invitation.
Leech-way, the path in which the dead are carried to be buried.
Leery, empty unloaden.
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(delwedd D4393) (tudalen 062)
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62 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
Loblolly, an odd mixture of spoonmeat
Lock / What! Heyday! Loff, low.
Lbngcripple, a viper. Looze, a hog-fly. To Loustree, to work hard. Lowing,
piling up one thing on
another.
To Lundge, to lean on any thing. Lymptwigg, a lapwing. Malls, the measles.
Marl, a marvel, a wonder. Mass, acorns (mast). Mazd, mad, crazy (so a maz'd
man for madman). Mews, moss. Mm or Men, them, e.g., Put min
up, i.e., Put them up. Moyle, a mule. To Moyley, to labour hard like a
mule.
Mitggard, sullen. Muggots, chitterlings, also a calf s
pluck. To Mull, to pull and tumble one
about. Mux, dirt. Neeald, a needle. Niddick, the nape of the neck.
Ninniwatch, the longing desire or
expectation of a thing. Nose-gigg, a toe-piece on a shoe. <9flZ7>, the
eaves of a house. 0zw, material, important, e.g., I
have an over errand to you. To take Owl, to take amiss. Ownty, empty.
Pdddick, a toad. To Paddle, to tipple. Palching, patching or mending
clothes.
Palching, walking slowly. Pame, a christening blanket, a
mantle.
* A term for making holes in the
Pdncrock, an earthen pan.
Pdnking, panting.
Pdrbeaking, fretful.
Peek, a prong, or pitchfork.
Pestle, or leg, of pork.
Pilm, dust raised by the wind.
To Ping, to push.
Pingzwill, a boyl.
To take Pip at a thing, to take it
ill.
Pistering, whispering. Pixy, a fairy.
Pldsad, in a fine condition. To Plim, to swell or encrease in bulk, or to
make any thing
swell by beating. Plump, a pump.
Pbdger, a platter or pewter dish. To Pbmster, to act the empirick. To
Pbochce, to make mows at a
person.
Pook, a cock of hay. To Pbtee, to push with one's feet. Pritfd, sour'd.
Prinked, well-dress'd, fine, neat. To Pritch,\.o check orwithstand.* Prbsets,
buskins. Pung, push'd. Purting, or a-piirt, sullen. Putch, to hand up (pitch)
sheaves
or the like with a pitch-fork. Quelstring, hot, sultry (sweltry). Querking,
grunting. Quott or Aquott, weary of eating;
also sat down. Rabble-rote, a repetition of a long
story, a tale of a tub. Ragrbwtering, playing at romps. Ranish, ravenous.
Rathe (not rear, as Gay has it),
early, soon, e.g., a leet rather,
i.e., a little while ago, a little
sooner (why do you op so rathe,
or rise so early).
To Ream, to stretch, leathers of cards to admit the wire.
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(delwedd D4394) (tudalen 063)
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An Exmoor Vocabulary.
Rearing, mocking by repeating another's words
with disdain, or the like.
Reart, right.
Redrting, (i.e., righting), mending.
Rexen, rushes.
To Rey one's self, to dress one's self (array).
Ripping one up, telling him all his faults.
Riffling, wheazing (quasi rattling).
Roundshaving, chiding exceedingly.
Rumple, a large debt contracted by little and little. (Somersetshire. 'Twill
come to a rumple, or breaking, at last).
To Scorse or Scoace, to exchange.
Sewent or Suent, even, regular, all alike.
Sheenstrads, splatterdashes.
Sherking or Sharking, an eager desire to cheat or defraud another.
To take a Shoard, to drink a cup too much.
Shool, a shovel.
To Shoort, to shift for a living.
Siss, great fat woman.
Skotch or Squotch, a notch.
Slotter, nastiness.
To Sou'l, to tumble one's clothes, to pull one about, etc.
Spalls, chips, also things cast in one's teeth.
Spare, slow.
Spewring, a boarded partition.
Sprey, spruce, ingenious.
To Spi'idlee, to stir or spread a thing abroad.
Squehtring, sultry.
St'eehopping, playing the hobbyhorse.
Stewardly, like a good housewife.
Steyan or Stean, an earthen pot, like a jar.
To Stile or Stilee, to iron clothes.
Stirrups, a kind of buskins,
Strdmmer, a great lie.
Strbaking, milking after a calf has suck'd.
Stroil, strength and agility.
A good Stubb, a large sum of money.
Sture, a steer, also a dust raised.
Stiffing, sobbing.
Swill, to swallow down one's throat.
Swillet, growing turf set on fire for manuring the land.
Tdllet (i.e., top-loft), a hay loft.
Tdnbaste or Tdnbase, scuffling, struggling.
Taply or Tapely, early in the morning.
Tatchy, peevish.
Teaster, the canopy of a bed.
Ted or Tet, to be order'd or permitted to do a thing, as / Ted go home, i.e.,
I am to go home.
Terra, a turf.
To Tervee, to struggle and tumble, to get free.
Tetties (from Teats], breasts.
Thek or Theckee or Thecka, this is (generally not always) us'd for That when
it is a pronoun demonstrative, but never when it is a pronoun relative, or a
conjunction, in which cases Thctot Thate is the word us'd.
Therle, gaunt, lean.
To Thir, Thear, Der, Dear or Dere, to frighten, hurt, or strike dead.
Tho, then, at that time.
Thumping, great, huge.
To Ting, to chide severely.
Tbtle, a slow, lazy person.
Tbtiing, slow, idle.
Tourn, a spincing-wheel.
ToToze, to pull abroad wool, etc.
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(delwedd D4395) (tudalen 064)
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64 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
Troant, a foolish fellow, and sometimes a lazy
loiterer, a truant.
Trolubber, a husbandman, a daylabourer.
Trub^ a slut (not a little squat woman, as Bailey has it).
Twine, pack thread.
To Vang, to take or receive.
To Vang to, to stand sponsor to a child.
Veaking, fretfulness, peevishness.
Vigging. See Potee.
Vinnied, mouldy.
Vinny, a scolding-bout.
To Vit, to dress (meat, etc).
Vitty, decent, handsome, well.
Umber, number.
Voor, a furrow.
Vore, forth.
To drow Vore, to twit one with a fault.
Vore-days,or Voar-days,\sA.^\^ the day.
Vore-reert, forth-right, without circumspection.
Upaz'et, in perfection.
Upzetting, a gossiping or christening feast.
Vung, receiv'd.
Vull-stdtad. See Full-stated.
Vurdin, a farthing.
Vur-vore, far forth.
Wdngery, flabby
Wdshamauthe a blabb.
Wdshbrew, flummery.
Watsdil, a drinking-song on
twelfth-day eve, throwing toast to the
apple-trees in order to have a fruitful year; which seems to be a reliclc of
a heathen sacrifice to Pomona.* Wetherly, with rage and violence.
ijri. ' j ( a great blow
Wherret , ,
T*n.> * j. j.-\ (perhaps a back
W/ ^^^( hand stroke).
Whitwich, a pretended conjurer that discovers, and sells charms for
witchcraft.
Whbtjecomb, what d'ye call him.
Whott, hot.
Why-vore, or for IVhy vore, where fore.
Wop, a wasp.
Wraxling, wrestling.
Ydllow heels or Yellou* boys, guineas.
Yead, head.
Yeaveling, evening.
Yees, eyes.
Yeevil, a dung-fork.
Yerring, noisy.
Yhvmors, embers, hot-ashes.
Yeo, an ewe.
Zcnnet, a week, a sev'night. Zess, a pile of sheaves in a barn. Zeiv, a sow.
Zewnteen, seventeen. Zigg, urine. Zinnyla, son-in-law. Zivc, a scythe.
Zbiverswopped, ill-natur'd. Zoivl, a plough.
I could muster up many more words in this
barbarous dialect, but ne quid nimis. DEVON.
What is between hooks ( ), and the notes is an addition to the Vocabulary;
and we hope will not offend the author.
Wassail, or Was-heil, to wish health. See Observat. on Macbeth, p. 41.
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Popular Names of Natural Objects. 65
Popular Names of Natural Objects.
[1784, Part I I., pp. 505, 506.]
Among many other impediments to the progress of Science, one is the different
names the same thing passes under, not only in different kingdoms, but in
different parts of the same kingdom. Your correspondent, R. B., p. 100,
observes that Mr. D. Barrington, in his Miscellanies, has said that the
Mountain Ash is not indigenous in the Southern counties, which mistake he
fell into from not knowing that Quickbeam is the name commonly given to that
tree in these parts. Many instances of similar mistakes have occurred to me.
The writers of books on Natural History appear to me not to have been
sufficiently careful to form a complete nomenclature of the animals, birds, fishes,
insects, plants, and trees, which they describe, so as to enable their
readers in different countries to know what object in nature their
descriptions refer to. To remedy these defects, and the perplexities which
result from them, people in different parts of the country ought to furnish
lists of the names of things in those parts where they reside. To excite some
of your correspondents to do this, I shall subjoin a few articles which have
occured to me, to show the difference between names in Scotland and England.
[See note 20.]
The Mountain Ash, or Quickbeam, is with us [Montrose] the Rantry, or Roddan
Tree. The red berries it produces are called Roddans. Concerning this tree
there are various superstitions.
The plant Sorrel, we call Sourrichs.
Buttermilk, called Bladda, from the Gaelic Bladdach.
The Lark is the Laverock or Larick.
The Linnet, the Lintwhite.
The Thrush, the Mavis, from the French Mauvais, a Thrush.
The Magpye, the Pyot.
The Chaffinch, the Shillfa.
The Tomtit, the Oxeye.
The Kite, the Gledd, from the Saxon Glidan, to glide, because this bird moves
through long tracts of the air without shaking its wings.
The Great Turn, I suppose, our Pictarney.
The Arctic Gull is the Dirty Aulin.
The Land-rail is the Corn-craik, from the noise it makes, by
7.0SO.I.
The Fox is with us the Tod.
The Toad, the Tedd.
The Frog, the Paddock.
The Weasel, I suppose, the Whitterit.
The Mole, the Maudawort.
The Crab, the Parton.
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66 Lists of Local Words and Specimens of
Dialect.
The Periwinkle, the Wilk
The Hollibut, the Turbot.
The Turbot, the Bannock Flook.
The Flounder, the Flook.
Small differences are easily got over, as the fFraw for Wren, Pertrick for
Partridge, etc.; but I should be glad to see the English names corresponding
to many other Scotch terms: thus of birds, the Bleucheret, Clocheret,
Colhood, Sandy-larick and Havour Craws, Hoody-Craws and Corbies, correspond
with the English Craws, Ravens, Royston Crows, etc. I do not know what animal
answers to our Fumart,* and to several others. We have many droll names of
insects, as the Cloc, King-Colin, Horngolach, Maggy-with-the-MonyFeet, etc.
Many of these names I conceive are derived from the northern languages, and
from the Gaelic. The etymologies of some of them may be curious; most of them
are now used only by the vulgar, as the higher classes of people are daily
adopting the language and manners of England.
P.S. We call the House-spider, Etter-cap. In the Welsh it is Atyrcop, i.e.,
the Top-insect, because it lodges near the roof.
T. C.
Montrose.
* The -weasel we believe: though a learned friend suggests the polecat. EDITOR.
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Proverbs.
52
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PRO
VERBS.
Witty and Seasonable Proverbs.
[1748, A 21.]
January.
MANY papers were published this month, with
regard to this subject of exporting corn to France; and the strongest reasons
urged in favour of it were: i. If the K. of France can get corn from any
other country to supply the magazines for his armies, our farmers should not
lose so large a sum as a million. 2. If the K. of France ca'n get a supply
only sufficient for his armies, by sending to all countries as he does, he
will be able the better to recruit them, and sooner, as his poor subjects are
in want of bread. On this occasion is quoted a politic stratagem of Lewis
XIV. during the late war. It was a time of uncommon scarcity, and his armies
having suffered in the preceding year greatly at the relief of Barcelona, the
siege of Turin, and the battle of Ramellies, so great a nmber of recruits
were wanting for the next campaign, that it was thought impossible to raise
them. His majesty issued money, and sent ships to Egypt, Syria,
Constantinople, etc., filled the public magazines, and while his generals
were surprised that he issued no orders about levies, he only commanded them
to take care that his soldiers should have plenty of bread, and to publish it
everywhere that it was his majesty's strict orders. On this, the poor
starving peasants ran everywhere to the officers, and listed so fast that,
tho' they wanted 80,000 men, the army was filled up without any expense for
levies, besides 20 new
regiments by way of augmentation. This is a matter that ought
undoubtedly to have great weight. But, on the other hand, as our fleets are
now much superior, the French can scarcely be supposed able to procure a
supply from Egypt or other parts by sea. And, therefore, the soldiers must
want bread, be enfeebled and perish, if not relieved from England. On this
supposition were published some witty Proverbs, as follows:
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7o Proverbs.
From the Daily Advertiser, Jan. 7.
i. Hambre efrio entregan al hombre a su enemigo.
Hunger and cold deliver a man to his enemy; i.e., put him out of a capacity
of defending himself.
2. El pan comido, la campanna desJieca.
The bread being eaten, the company depart, or campaign breaks up; i.e., no
longer pipe, no longer dance.
3. Tomb ar par Jidmbre.
To take a town by starving it; a metaphor, to make advantage of a man's
wants.
4. A pan duro diente agudo.
A sharp tooth for hard bread; or diamond must cut diamond.
5. A pbco pan tbmar primiero. When /////(? bread, cut first.
6. A quien & sbbrapan, no crie can.
He that has not bread to spare, must not keep a <&. If a man has not
enough for himself, he must not keep more mouths,
7. Tanto pan cdmo el purgar, torno el alma a su tugar.
As much bread as a man's thumb restores his soul to its place; that is, saves
a man's life when he is starving.
8. For mucho pan nunca mal anno. Much corn never makes a bad year.
[See note 2 1.] PEDRO PINEDA.
From the Daily Advertiser, Jan 9. fas est 6 ab hoste doceri.
We have proverbs as much to the purpose as the Spaniards.
1. Shut the stable door before the steed is stolen.
2. A man cannot live by the air.
3. The belly is not filled with fair words.
4. It is an ill sign to see a. fox lick a lamb.
5. The first point in hawking is Jwldfast.
6. Brag is a good dog, but hold-fast is a better.
7. This buying of bread undoes us.
8. There are more ways to kill a dog than hanging.
9. He that's down, down with him; for I can't allow that
10. A French dog should be preferred to an English man, though it
be asserted by the right honourable the lord , and should be
offered to be proved by his valet de chambre, Monsieur Pimp.
11. He needs must go whom the devil drives. And then
12. Alts well that ends well.
Yours, etc., J. RAY.
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Witty and Seasonable Proverbs. 71
From the Daily Advertiser, Jan. 13.
Ny cheir gon y uwynog ondi groen. From a fox nought, scarce the skin.
Splutter hur nails! what does the Spaniard mean? and the Saxoneig too? Certe
they must both give way to the antient Prittish.
The Cymaracean tongue is ranked by all glottographers amongst the fourteen
maternal and independent vernacular languages; and for energy and sweetness
yields to none. Read,
1. Dyn, derwen, a diwnrod. Whilst through all places thou dost roam, yet have
thy eyes still toward home.
2. Can tin gwedi brummu. The bum-hole's shut when the fart's shot.
3. Anghew garw drud ai birch. Grim death will buy full dear.
4. Angen a dyrr ddeddf. Want cancels commands.
5. Gwell can muw ir cannyn nag un muw i undyn. Better die one, than die all;
or, better die one in a hundred, than a hundred for one.
6. Gwell duw, yn garnd lluy ddaiar. Better God's arm, than earth's army.
7. Gwell duw na dim. Better God than gold.
8. Nid caufau ar Iwynog. Not shut hole fast on fox. For
9. Nip twyll twyllo, twyllwr. To fox the fox, no foxing.
10. Pan yrrer y guyddel allan, infyd ydd heurir eifod. When the Kerne's
turned out of door, they feign that he was mad before.
The Gauls (now called French) came over by frequent transfretations to be
indoctrinated by us; we are still willing to give them one more lesson, and
we will give it in the modern Saxoneig, viz.,
Bread is the staff of life, and that staff wo. will not put out of our hands.
[See note 22.] Yours,
JAMES HOWELL, Cambro Britannus.
Anglo-Saxon Proverb. [1836, Part I., p. 611.]
On passing some time lately with Professor Schmeller of Munich, my attention
was called by him to an ancient Saxon proverb quoted in an Epistle of Saint
Boniface, which he had read in the third vol. of Pertz' “Thesaurus,"
just published. As it stood in Pertz, it ran thus:
Oft daed lata domae for eldit si gi sitha gahuuem suuylt it fiana.
A very old MS. copy of the same epistle in the Munich library, and, like that
from which Pertz printed, written in Germany, gave the same, as follows:
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72 Proverbs.
Oft dsed latadom asfor eldit si gisitha gahuuem suuylt it j>iana. On
translating this from its half-German half-Northumbrian dialect, into good
plain West-Saxon (Anglo-Saxon), I arranged the lines as follows:
Oft dsedlata dome foryldeS sigesfSa gehwaem: swylteS t5y' ana.
“Oft doth the dilatory man with justice lose by his delay, in every
successful undertaking: therefore he dieth lonely."
As this was written by Saint Boniface, or, to call him by his AngloSaxon
name, WinifriS, in the early half of the eighth century, it is one of the
earliest pieces of Saxon poetry on record. It shares the character of the
Saxon proverbs generally; viz., that of a solemn gnomic saying, treasured,
probably, as a wise rule of life. WinfriS quotes it as well known, and
therefore as earlier than his own period. On this account, it may, perhaps,
be placed by the side of the verses cited by Beda in his last moments; and on
this account, it may, perhaps, interest some one or other of your readers.
Yours, etc., J. M. KEMBLE.
Greek Proverbs for Absurd Actions.
[See note 23.] [1809, Part L, p. 428.]
Permit me to send you a list of a few of the foolish and absurd actions
mentioned by the Greeks, and used by them as a kind of proverbs, more than
2,000 years ago. Those of your readers that are well acquainted with the
histories of modern times, and the colloquial language of this country, will
be able to judge how far the nations of Europe have, by adopting these,
approved of them.
When the Greeks meant to say that a man was absurdly, foolishly, or
improperly employed, they used to say:
He ploughs the air;
He washes the Ethiopian;
He measures a twig;
He opens the door with an axe;
He demands tribute of the dead;
He holds the serpent by the tail;
He takes the bull by the horns;
He is making clothes for fishes;
He is teaching an old woman to dance;
He is teaching a pig to play on a flute;
He catches the wind with a net;
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Greek Proverbs for Adsztrd Actions. 73
_
He changes a fly into an elephant;
He takes the spring from the year;
He is making ropes of sand;
He sprinkles incense on a dunghill;
He is ploughing a rock;
He is sowing on the sand;
He takes oil to extinguish the fire;
He chastises the dead;
He seeks water in the sea;
He puts a rope to the eye of a needle;
He is washing the crow;
He draws water with a sieve;
He gives straw to his dog, and bones to his ass;
He numbers the waves;
He paves the meadow;
He paints the dead;
He seeks wool on an ass;
He digs the well at the river;
He puts a hat on a hen;
He runs against the point of a spear;
He is erecting broken ports;
He fans with a feather;
He strikes with a straw;
He cleaves the clouds;
He takes a spear to kill a fly;
He brings his machines after the war is over;
He washes his sheep with scalding water;
He speaks of things more antient than chaos;
He roasts snow in a furnace;
He holds a looking-glass to a mole;
He is teaching iron to swim;
He is building a bridge over the sea, etc., etc.
JAMES HALL.
[1809, Part //.,/. 627.]
We are much obliged to you for Mr. Hall's set of Proverbial Sayings from the
Greeks, p. 428. Erasmus, who has mentioned some of them, tells us, that when
the Greeks meant to say that a man was uselessly, foolishly, or improperly
employed, they used to say:
He is teaching a dog to bark; He is teaching a bull to roar; He is teaching a
cock to crow; He is teaching a serpent to hiss; He is teaching a hen to
chuck; He is teaching a fish to bite;
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74 Proverbs.
He is writing on the surface of the sea;
He is boiling a bone;
He is shaving an ass;
He is glueing chalk;
He is sounding the trumpet before the victory;
He is putting meat in a chamber-pot;
He is taking a post to kill a bee;
He is selling an ox to catch a hare;
He is doing what is done;
He is promising golden mountains:
He is taking a hammer to spread a plaster;
He is seeking figs where only brambles grow;
He is taking a hair to draw a waggon.
A NEW CORRESPONDENT.
English Proverb Explained.
[1754, A 415]
The late Mr. Ray, in his “English Proverbs, p. 256, very well explains the
sense and meaning of the proverbial phrase “at latter Lammas," “ad
Graecas calendas," says he, “i.e., never, kxtav qpiovos rtxtuti, cum
muli pariant Herodot." But the question still recurs, how came
"latter Lammas" to signify never? I answer, The first of August had
a great variety of names amongst our ancestors: it was called “Festum Sancti
Petri ad vincula," “Gula Augusti," “Peter-mass," and amongst
the rest "Lammas." The two former of these names depend upon an old
legend, which in Durantus runs thus; “One Quirinus, a tribune, having a
daughter that had a disease in her throat, she, by the order of Alexander,
then Pope of Rome, and the sixth from St. Peter, sought for the chains with
which St. Peter was bound at Rome, under Nero; and having found them, she
kissed them and was healed; and Quirinus and his family were baptized."
“Tune dictus Alexander Papa hoc festum in calendis Augusti celebrandum instituit,
et in honorem beati Petri ecclesiam in urba fabricavit, ubi ipsa vincula
reposuit, et ad vincula nominavit, et calendis Augusti dedicavit. In qua
festivitate populus illic conveniens ipsa vincula hodieosculatur."
Durant. “Rationale divin. Offic."lib. vii., p. 240.* The festival was
instituted on occasion of finding the chains, and of the miracle wrought by
them, and so was intitled “Festum Sancti Petri ad vincula /" and because
the part upon which it was performed was the gula or throat, in process of
time it came to be called “Gula Augusti." It took the name of Peter-mas
partly from the Apostle, and partly, as I think, from its being the day when
the Rome-scot or Peterpence in ancient time (when that tribute was paid in
this kingdom)
* This legend is falsely represented by Dr. Cowel in his “Interpreter,"
vide “Gule of August."
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English Proverbs Explained. 75
was levied. The Confessor's law is very express . “The Peter penny ought to
be demanded at the feast of the Apostles Peter and Paul,* and to be levied at
the feast called 'ad vincula'?"t “Eccles. Laws of Edward the
Confessor," A.D. MLXIV. c. n.
We come now to Lammas, of which there are two etymologies. The first is in
Cowel: “Lammas day," says he, "is the first of August, so called, '
quasi Lamb-mas,' on which day the tenants that held lands of the cathedral
church of York, which is dedicated to St. Peter ad vincula,| were bound, by
that tenure, to bring a living lamb into the church at high-mass."
Cowel's “Interpreter." But this custom may seem too local to give
occasion to so general a name, and therefore the etymon given us by Mr.
Wheatly from Somner I would choose to prefer. These gentleman derive it from
the Anglo-Saxon hlafmaessan that is, Loaf-mass, it having been the custom of
the Saxons to offer that day, universally throughout the whole kingdom, an
oblation of loaves, made of new wheat, as the first fruits of their new corn.
It appears from many passages in the Saxon chronicle, that this name is of
great antiquity; in some of them there is the P prefixed, which shows it has
no relation to the lamb, agnus; and in others, as anno 913, 918, 921, and 1 1
01, 'tis expressly written hlafmessaan, and the learned editor and translator
of the Saxon annals renders it everywhere very justly, by “Festum
primitiarum."
Now as to the point in hand, Lammas day was always a great day of accounts;
for in the payment of rents, etc., our ancestors distributed the year into
four quarters, ending at Candlemas, Whitsuntide, Lammas, and Martinmas, and
this was every whit as common as the present division of Lady-day, Midsummer,
Michaelmas, and Christmas. In regard to Lammas, besides it being one of the
usual days of reckoning, it appears from the quotation taken above from the
Confessor's laws, that it was the specific day whereon the Peter-pence, a tax
very rigorously exacted, and the punctual payment of which was enforced under
a penalty, by the law of St. Edward, was paid. In this view, then Lammas
stands as a day of accounts, and “latter Lammas" will consequently
signify the last day of accounts, or the day of doom, which, in effect, as to
all payments of money, and in general, as to all worldly transactions
whatever, is never. "Latter" here is used for "last," the
comparative for the superlative, just as it is in a like case in the book of
Job, xix. 25. “I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the
latter day upon the earth," meaning the last day. That the last day, or
the “latter Lammas," as to all temporal
* June 29.
t Mr. Johnson says, King Offa chose this lime for the payment of the
Peterpence, because on this day the relicts of St. Alban the martyr were
first discovered to him.
This is not true; 'tis dedicated to St. Peter, but not to St. Peter ad
vincula. The feast of the dedication is Oct. i. See Mr. Drake's
“Eboracum."
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76 Proverbs.
affairs, is indeed never, may be illustrated by the following story, A man at
confession owned to his having stolen a sow and pigs. The father confessor
exhorted him to restitution. The man said some were sold and some were
killed; but the priest, not satisfied with that, told him they would follow
him to the day of judgment if he did not make restitution; upon which the man
replies quickly, “/'// restore 'em THEN," as much as to say, never.
Yours, etc., G. P.
An Old Proverb Illustrated from a Play in MS.
[1788, Part //., pp. 770, 771.]
Meeting the other day with a very pretty book, lately published, called “The
Lounger “[see note 24], I observed Mrs. Bustle, in the description of her
husband, says, among his other plans of alteration, "his dove-cote he
pulled down, without regarding the old proverb which intimates the wife must
die with it." This proverb I could not recollect, nor could I guess from
whence it arose. But looking over some old papers, I saw a piece of a play in
manuscript; it was very much wore, and in some places scarcely legible. I
think, however, I have made enough out of it to send you three speeches,
which allude particularly to this subject. The first speaker, the husband,
appears to be called
MOROSO.
What would I give, the three last years of life Could I recall, when happy I
was free? No woman e'er again should me persuade, Or tempt, bewitching for
the /Eliad's charms, To engage in wedlock. The ruby lip, The ivory teeth, the
jet black hair, and shape As finely turn'd as Venus, should ne'er more My
thoughts seduce from freedom's flowery path, Or noose me to a woman. Why,
these charms My wife possesses, and they tell me too Has virtue to preserve
them: let that be; I little prize the virtue that's in woman. Will she not
smile on others, amble, corvet, And lisp? Will she not when the dance Sprightly
moves on, laugh, talk, and gay appear, Tho' I'm no partner? This they virtue
call, And this to married women they allow, And say the husband, who does
take offence At this, is but a Dolt, a mere John Dolt, A Nicompope: how dare
I then complain? But sweet revenge I'll have, and secret too:
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An Old Proverb Illustrated from a Play in MS.
77
My dove-cote I'll pull down; my wife will die, And I'll commence a fresh man
o'er again.
( While he is speaking, enter the father BENEVOLUS, and the wife JULIA.)
BENEVOLUS.
What is this murmuring, son, which fills my house
With pining discontent, and smuts the joys
That white-rob'd Fortune has bestow'd upon me?
You shun my daughter. If by chance you meet
With scowling eye, knit brow, and language harsh
You wound her bosom: nay, if truth I hear,
When warm with your companions, you traduce
Her reputation, cruelly injure her fair fame,
Than which no wife a fairer e'er deserv'd.
Not purer to the eye should seem the galaxy,
Than to your heart her virtues. Oh, my daughter,
To me, and to my house, you e'er were kind.
My grey hairs knew no sorrow, and my years
Declin'd with comfort, till this testy gentleman,
Proud of his titled birth made suit upon thee,
Conquer'd thy easy nature, won thy heart,
Which, skill-less how to prize, he'as cast away.
But, Sir, insult me not: tho' I'm not noble,
I'm honest; and tho' time shews white upon me,
I have an arm still able to resent
My daughter's and my house's injury.
My father was a merchant, high esteem'd;
His father was not less so; and, I've heard,
This grandsire's father was a man of honour.
Thus, Sir, four ages have not yet debas'd
The blood within these veins; and merchandise,
By which my country is kept high in riches,
Can ne'er disgrace its practiser. Merchant's a name,
An argosie fraught with integrity:
And, should this fail, honour will, like Astrea,
To heaven fly, and leave her Britain wretched.
JULIA.
My honour'd father, oh, my heart it grieves, To see you thus afflicted for
your daughter: True what you say, from your bright conduct I Have nought
receiv'd out what was just and right. And then, kind Sir, you had a consort,
who Contributed with you to give me birth;
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78 Proverbs.
And she, like you, had all the sense of honour
Which piety can bestow, and Christian faith.
From her I learnt, together with yourself,
That all worth knowing my kind Saviour taught:
Nor ever shall be learnt, or understood,
Doctrines sublimer, or more useful, than
His Gospel has bestow'd on all mankind;
They who receive them happy, unhappy
They who dare reject them. My mother, Sir,
Was gentle, pious, humble as a dove,
Quite well her qualities I recollect,
For twelve years while she liv'd I thought upon them:
Nay, and my father, sure I am, array'd
His own sweet countenance with benevolence,
Ten times more brightened by the faith she bore.
A Christian and a woman! two characters
Which man ne'er yet despis'd. Why should I fear,
For I'm a Christian and a woman, this
Testy husband? If he goes, why let him;
I'll conquer his esteem; and if his heart,
Wayward, uneasy, cannot be recall'd,
I'll fret not: let him go, let him pull down
His dove-cote, if he pleases; his poor dove
Will fly on virtue's pinions unconfin'd.
Yours, etc., L. B.
Soon Ripe, Soon Rotten.
[1756, /. 556.]
There is a coarse proverb in England concerning the Spanish ladies which, in
justice to the most amiable and useful of the sex, I must refute. The proverb
is, “Soon ripe, soon rotten;" intimating that the ladies of Spain are
soon marriageable, and soon barren. They are indeed soon marriageable, but
they bear children longer, perhaps, than any other women in the world.. A
woman of fifty, with an infant sucking at her breast, is here a common sight,
as common as a woman of forty, in the same situation, in England and Ireland.
It is here common to see women that were married at thirteen, surrounded by
ten or a dozen children, all of which they have suckled at their own breasts.
Cuckoo Proverb. [1797, Part L t p. 456.]
A Constant Reader wishes to remind those who wait for an opportunity of
endeavouring to keep a Cuckoo through the Winter, that
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Weather Proverbs. 79
this is the time for offering a reward to the
neighbouring boys, who may thereby be induced to find and bring them at the
proper age.
Has it been observed that they stammer (or stuf, as it is called in the North
of England), and are unusually clamorous in the month of June, as if mocking
and vying with each other, previous to their general silence? And are they
not said to be hoarse during some period of their singing? “As scabbed as a
cuckoo “is a common saying in the North of England, as well as the following:
Comes in mid March,
Sings in mid April,
Stuts in mid May,
And in mid June* flies away.
CURIOSO.
Weather Proverbs.
[1799, Part I., p. 203.]
The present month of February, which has commenced in the midst of a
whirlwind of driving snow, unequalled probably, even in the North of England,
during the last twenty years, reminds me of an old adage
“February fill dike, Either black or white;"
which, I apprehend, is generally known. But I am not certain that the
following, applied to Candlemas-day, is equally notorious:
“If the sun shines i' th' forenoon, Winter is not half done."
Yesterday the sun certainly did shine through the frosty air upon a white
world; but we also know, that the genial warmth of his rays sometimes renders
a forenoon in the beginning of February delightful to an invalid as an April
morn. It is not possible then, that the latter maxim might be founded on the
common observation, that a too early spring is usually succeeded by wintry
weather? On the other hand, as an old adage must refer to old style, it may
seem that the 22nd of January is rather too early for spring-like weather;
and that it may signify only, that a clear sunshiny morning on the 22nd of
January is likely to be followed by a continuation of settled frost, t
Considering the word either in the first adage, may not the meaning of the
second apply to either?
Yours, etc., UTRUM HORUM.
* Old Style, f In the North of England usually called a if arm, however calm
and pleasant.
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8o Proverbs.
Local Proverb.
[1820, Part II., p. 326.]
In the “Beauties of England and Wales," vol. i., p. 342, 1 observed the
following: “According to the tradition which accompanies the quaint distich,
“Tring, Wing, and Ivinghoe, did go, For striking the Black Prince a
blow."
Those places were formerly in the possession of the Hampden family, but what
degree of credit is to be attached to these lines we know not; for the
particulars of the circumstance to which they relate have eluded our
inquiries."
Tradition says, that Edward III. and his son, the Black Prince, once honoured
Lord Hampden with a visit at his seat at Great Hampden, now Wendover, in
Bucks, for many generations the property of this ancient family: and that
whilst the Prince and his host were exercising themselves in feats of arms, a
quarrel rose between them, in which Lord Hampden gave the Prince a blow on
the face; the King in consequence of this outrage, quitted the place in great
wrath, and punished Lord Hampden's misbehaviour by seizing on some of his
most valuable manors, which gave rise to the following impromptu by some of
the court wits:
“Tring, Wing, and Ivinghoe, Hampden did forego, For striking of a blow, And
glad he did escape so."
Mr. Lysons, however, in his “Magna Britannia," adds, “This tradition,
like many other of a like nature, will not bear the test of examination; for
it appears by record, that neither the manors of Tring, Wing, or Ivinghoe,
ever were in the Hampden family.
Yours, etc.. W. S.
Season Proverbs. %
[See note 25.]
[1788, Part /., pp. 188, 189.]
I have long threatened to trouble you with some of my grandmother's saws; for
what we catch in our youth, we rarely lose. At the distance of nearly half a
century, the tag of many a monkish rhyme still rings in my ears.
Born and educated in a Northern county of England, and therefore remote from
the capital, their sayings, and their customs, which still savour much of
Popish superstition, are not to be wondered at.
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Season Proverbs. 81
We have in Northumberland the following
couplet, which gives name to every Sunday in Lent, except the first:
Tid, and Mid, and Misera, Carling, Palm, and Good-pas-day.
What the three first mean, or whether they mean anything, some of your
correspondents may inform us.
Pas-day is obviously an abbreviation of Pasque, the old French spelling for
Easter. Pas-eggs are still, I am told, sent as presents for young folks in
the Easter-holidays. They are merely the eggs of our domestic fowl boiled,
and tinged of various hues, by adding to the water, when boiling, logwood,
rose-leaves, the yellow blossoms of the whin or furze, or other dyes, and are
written on, figured or ornamented, by an oiled pencil, or any greasy matter,
drawn lightly over the shell, before they are boiled, according to the boyish
taste of the artist. A pecuniary present, at this season, has the same name
given toil.
Of the more social customs still kept up in this country, is this of, the
Sunday fortnight before Easter, feasting together on Carlings,* which are
choice grey-pease, of the preceding autumn, steeped in spring-water for
twelve or fifteen hours, till they are soaked or macerated; then laid on a
sieve, in the open air, that they may be externally dry. Thus swelled, and
enlarged to a considerable size, and on the verge of vegetating, they are put
in an iron pot or otherwise, on a slow fire, and kept stirring. They will
then parch, crack, and, as we provincially call it, bristle: when they begin
to burst, they are ready to eat.
On this memorable Sunday, the Carlings are everywhere regularly introduced
among the genteeler sort, after dinner, faire la bonne louche to a glass of
wine, as we would here a napkin of roasted chestnuts, to which they are no
bad substitute, being in taste not exceedingly unlike them. While the honest
peasant resorts to the best home-brew'd, and there freely quaffs his
Carling-groat in honour of the festival.
[1788, p. 288.]
In answer to your correspondent (p. 1 88), who desires an explanation of
Tid, and Mid, and Misera, Carling, Palm, and Good-pas-day;
Tide, and fife, are words in common use in the North of England, signifying soon,
or quickly; and tider, or titter^ sooner or nearer.
* I have endeavoured to find the etymology of the word Carling to little
effect; it can have nothing to do with the Carle- Carleing, or nuie-clmrle oi
Minsheu.
t When I was on a visit in Yorkshire, I found the family one morning employed
in securing a swarm of bees, which had fixed on a high tree in the garden. A
poor neighbour came in to assist, and the first words she spoke, I write
exactly as
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82 Proverbs.
11 The tider you come, the tider you'll go," [proverb] probably a
corruption of the hither. Tid, then, in this instance, means the first Sunday
in the first line; Mid, the middle of the first three; of Misera, I can only
suppose it to be the first word in some office appropriated to that day in
the missal. Grey pease are called Cartings in some counties; but whether the
pease were denominated after the festival, or the festival after the pease,
remains to be proved. Carting, or Careing, may be derived from carefully
preserving and preparing the best pease for the purpose, or perhaps, Charing,
or Charting, from parching the pease like charcoal; or, lastly, if (as is
asserted) this feast was instituted to commemorate the plucking the ears of
corn by the disciples, might it not be taring Sunday? an e and a c, when
written, being very frequently not distinguishable; and many mistakes have
doubtless thus originated, and continued undetected. Palm requires no
explanation; and Good-pas-day is obviously either an abbreviation of Pasque,
Paschal or Passover.
Vails (as it is commonly pronounced), I conceive to have been originally the
Latin Vale, as it is applied to farewell gifts to servants.
R. P.
Round about Revess.
[1754, /. 426.]
As you sometimes allow a place in your useful Magazine, for the explanation
of proverbial sayings, peculiar to certain counties, I send you the
following: Near Howden, in Yorkshire, when a person cannot easily come at a
place, without going a great way about; or, for want of a proper term, is
forced to make use of several synonimous words; or, in discourse, produces
several arguments before he comes to the main point; it is a common saying,
that he is going “Round about Revess." This adage is undoubtedly taken
from the abbey of Revess (or Rivaulx, in Latin, Rievallis, i.e., the valley
thro' which the river Rye passes), now adorned with an agreeable variety of
woods and water, but anciently, Locus horroris et vastce solitudinis. It is
situate between Black Hamilton and HemsleyBlack-a-Moor, was founded by Walter
Espec, in the year 1131, and is now in the possession of - Duncomb, Esq.
[Lord Faversham]. The road to it is almost circular; first, down a very steep
and craggy mountain, where you must make several serpentine windings, before
you reach the bottom and river, and then rising again, much in the same
manner, on the opposite side, seeming sometimes to go directly
she pronounced them; "Ya sed a cute doon t' bewss titter, and tok' em i'
t' eeve." It is impossible, however, to describe on paper her accent, or
the rapidity of her utterance, which rendered it still more unintelligible.
“Does this woman speak English?" whispered I to my friend. "Yes,
"said he; "and her words are, ' You should have cut down the boughs
titter [sooner], and taken them into the hive.' “
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Northern Proverbs. 83
to the place, and anon directly from it; and to be sometimes on one side of
it, and sometimes on another. This, sir, I presume, is ground enough for the
propriety of our proverb.
P. W.
Northern Proverbs.
[1754, p. 121.]
From Erric-Brae-Foot we ascend for above a mile to the vertex, beyond which
is a monstrous dungeon just by the roadside, called the “Beef-stand;" at
the bottom of this the river Annan has its source, and the nitch above it is
called the “Nick of Annan-Head."
Not above half a mile beyond is the source of the Tweed, and hard by that, a
little westward, is the source of the Clyde. Of these the country people use
this proverb:
Tweed run, Annan won, Clyde fell down and broke its neck.
Intimating this to be the starting-post of these three rivers in a wager for
the sea. Tweed made great haste, as its course is rapid, but it had too far
to go to reach the East Sea. Annan won, as its stage was the shortest to the
Irish or South Sea, though its pace was slow, and Clyde made more haste than
good speed by tumbling over a precipice a little below Lanark, in its course
for the West Sea.
At Tweed Cross the hill falls lower to Tweedy Brae Foot, and we coast Tweed
to the “Beel," an inn by the highway. The landlord told me that the
Marquis of Tweedale had entic'd him to dig, or howk as he call'd it, in some
cumuli of stones hard by, assuring him he would find gold, which induc'd the
man and his servants to throw off the stones 'till they came to an upright
coffin; this deterred him from proceeding, being prejudiced by a popular
opinion in this country, and afraid of raising the plague; but I have
persuaded him to go on with it, and to dig up a place called the giant's
grave near the same place, where he, doubtless, would be rewarded.
I take all these to be the burying-places of the ancient Druides, or of
heroes killed in battle, and should be glad to see them opened. The houses
here have the fires in the midst of the floor, and the family sit all around,
arguing like Hudibras, that in our practice all that rises in smoke is
useless, which in their opinion helps to keep them warm.
Powmood is a gentleman's seat: here secretary Murray was taken. Wr3 is an old
ruin'd place, as is Drumailer on the opposite side of Tweed.
The Broad-law is a very high and extended mountain; it is enter
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84 Proverbs.
taining to observe the variety of words for high hills in this country: Law,
Dun, Cor, Heighth,Fell,,\.c.., are only so many different names for the same
thing. This must be the mountain called Braid Alb in history, from whence
both seas may be seen, for it is described as in Tweedale, and Alb or Alp is
an Irish name for heights.
Broughton, near the seat of secretary Murray, is a paltry village; beyond
this we have a prospect into Clydes-Dale, a level country, except one very
conspicuous eminence like a pyramid by itself in a large plain, called
“Tintoc-Top." This mountain is equal to any in South Scotland, reckon'd
from the base, and has passed into a proverb thus:
On Tintoc-Top there is a mist,
And in the mist there is a chest,
And in the chest there is a cup,
And in the cup there is a drop;
Take up the cup, suck out the drop,
And set the cup on Tintoc-Top.
These mountains are surprizing barometers to country people.
The heights of Car-Donn, or rather Cor-Donn, are also very eminent, but
beyond these the mountains are neither so high nor so frequent.
A Peck of March Dust is Worth a King's Ransom.
[i753. pp. 267, 268.]
There is a proverbial saying in the midland countries of England, “A peck of
March dust is worth a king's ransome," but whether it obtains in any
other parts I am really no competent judge: however, it is grounded on
experience, and a good geoponical reason may certainly be assigned for it,
for a dry season at this time of the year, after the wet month of February,
especially if we follow the new stile (and I believe the observation to have
been very antient), makes the best seed-time of all lenten corn. The corn
will grow, but how grew the expression? A large sum no doubt is meant, but
why a king's ransome? This is something particular, and, as I take it, has
its foundation in very high antiquity. K. Richard I.,"Cceur de
Lion" had the misfortune in his return from the Holy Land to fall into
the hands of the Emperor, Henry VI., who being of a very sordid and
ungenerous disposition, impos'd upon him a very exorbitant ransome, to wit,
150,000 marks of silver, which amount to; 2 91,000.* I thought myself obliged,
in descanting upon this subject, to take some notice of this passage in our
English history, but otherwise I am of opinion we must go a great deal
farther back for the original of this proverb: A
* Mr. Folkes's table of English silver coins, p. 6.
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A Peck of March Dust is Worth a Kings Ransom.
85
single fact could hardly give rise to it; besides, this was entirely an
arbitrary proceeding of the emperor's, consequently the sum fixed was
accidental; whereas our Adage seems to hint at something more certain, and in
mid-England, at least, very well-known. In short, it seems to me to allude to
the antient Wergild, of which we read so much in the Anglo-Saxon laws.* The
custom was with these our ancestors, when any person was slain, to admit a
payment in money by way of compensation, which payment was called the
Wergild, and it was always proportioned to the quality of the person killed.
A pecuniary mulct was allowed in other cases, as well as murder; it was
likewise varied in the business of murder, according to the circumstances
that attended it, but on these occasional variations I need not insist. Now,
for this purpose, says Sir Henry Spelman, "aestimabantur omnes hominum
classes ab ipso rege ad mancipium ipsum inclusive;"t and in Mercia,
which included all the midland part of England, where, as I said, this
proverb prevails, the estimation ran thus: the Churl's Wergild was rated at
200 shillings, the Thane's Wergild at 6 times as much, or 1,200 shillings,
the King's Wergild at 6 times the Thane's, or 7,200 shillings, which, there
being 60 shillings in the pound, amounted to i 20. And then it was added in
the law, "Tanturn est de Weregildo, sed pro dignitate regni debet addi
tantundem in Cynegilde ipsam Weram debent habere Parentes ejus, et regni
emendationem ipsius terrse populus,"J by which I understand that twice
thesum was to be pay'd, that is, double of the simple Wergild (for the Weres
were sometimes doubled and trebled and a great deal more), one half of which
the relations of the deceased were to have, and the other half was to go to
the state or community. Thus the culprit redeemed his own life with a sum of
money, “et posteri," says Sir H. Spelman, "si menon
fallitconjectura,hancredemptionemvocantGallis et Anglis ransome,"
insomuch that by a “King's ransom," in the proverb is meant as much as
was paid for the redemption of a man's life on occasion of the killing of a
king, which was the highest mulct of this sort which our ancestors knew of,
and which indeed amounted in those days to a very great sum.
Mr. Urban, I know not whether such a paper as this will fall in with your
design of collecting a Vol. of our Antiquities from your Magazines, but I
cannot but declare myself a well wisher to that scheme, and am, Sir,
Your most obedient,
PAUL GEMSEGE.
* Laws of ^Ethelbert, Hlotaire, and Eadric, etc., in Dr. Wilkins's edition.
t Spelman's Gloss, v. Wera.
Dr. Hicke's Dissert. Epist., p. no.
Spelman's Gloss, v. Wera and Wergilda.
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86
Proverbs.
Lancashire Proverb.
[1753, /. 120.]
We have an old saying:
He that marls sand, may buy land; He that marls moss, suffers no loss; But he
that marls clay throws his money away.
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Proverbial Phrases.
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PROVERBIAL PHRASES.
An't Please the Pigs.
[1790, Part IL, p. 876]
YOUR correspondent Indagator, p. 801, asks the derivation of "An't
please the pigs." It is, with a very small change, the old Roman
Catholic ejaculation “An it please the pix /" To the same purpose, R.B.,
who adds, "The Pix is the box in which the host was carried" [and
G.S. in 1755, p. 115].
[1790, Part //., //. 1086, 1087.]
I do not agree with K.A. and R.S., that the expression "an it please the
pigs "is a corruption of "an it please the pix." The following
account will, I trust, more satisfactorily answer the enquiry of your
correspondent Indagator:
There were formerly two eminent and rival schools in. London: St. Paul's,
founded in the reign of King Stephen; and St Anthony's established in 1213,
by a grant of Henry III. to the brotherhood of St. Anthony of Vienna; which
latter was situate in the parish of St. Bennet Finke, Threadneedle-street.
Many learned and dignified characters received their education at St.
Anthony's. Among others, Sir Thomas Moore and Dr. Nicholas Heath, Lord
Chancellors; and Dr. John Whitgift, Archbishop of Canterbury. Indeed, this
seminary generally presented better scholars than St. Paul's in the yearly
disputations in grammar and other exercises, held, on the eve of St.
Bartholomew, in the Churchyard of the priory of St. Bartholomew, in
Smithfield. This preeminence occasioned great animosity between the scholars
on the different foundations, and proved the source of numberless broils
whenever they met in the streets.
The story of St. Anthony's preaching to ti\e pigs is too well-known to merit
repetition here: it is sufficient to observe that this saint was
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90 Proverbial Phrases.
always figured with a pig following him; and in consequence, the scholars of
St. Paul's nick-named their rivals, St. Anthony's//?*; who, in return,
derided them with the appellation of St. Paul's pigeons, from the number of
those birds bred in the spire of that cathedral.
From this circumstance alone arose the saying of “an it please the
pigs;" for the scholars of St. Paul's having accustomed themselves,
whenever they answered each other in the affirmative, to add thereto the
expression in question, scoffingly insinuated, with a reserve of the
approbation of their competitors of St. Anthony's, who claimed a superiority
over them.
To what extent the contagion of cant-words may spread, we have had various
instances of late, in bore, twaddle, quoz, and other ridiculous expressions.
It is, therefore, not unreasonable to presume that the repetition of this
saying by the numerous scholars of St, Paul's in their respective families,
strongly attracted the attention of the menial servants on account of its
quaintness, and was by them disseminated to their companions, and the lower
orders of society, among whom the saying at present principally prevails.
Yours, etc., I. H. S.
Bear the Bell.
[1839, Part II., p, 330.]
Pennant derives the phrase “to bear the bell “from the custom of giving a
bell as the prize at running matches. A little golden bell was given at York
as the reward of victory, in 1607. Pennant's Tours in Wales, vol. i., p. 257,
edit. 1810.
Cat in the Pan.
[I7S4,//. 66, 67.]
We have a proverbial saying current through the whole kingdom, peculiar I
believe to this nation, of which the sense is generally well enough
understood, but the reason and foundation of it is so greatly obscured by a
corrupt pronunciation, that I presume they are known to few. The adage meant
is “to turn cat i' th' pan," of which everyone knows the meaning, and
probably has remarked many examples of it, but there being no connection
between a cat and a pan, the rise of the phrase is very intricate, all owing,
as I said, to a corruption of speech, for the word no doubt is cafe, which is
an old word for a cake, or other aumalette, which, being usually fried, and
consequently turned in the pan, does therefore very aptly express the
changing of sides in politics or religion, or, as we otherwise say, "the
turning one's coat."
I will now produce some authorities for this word; offer a conjecture
concerning its etymon; and then show, by a similar instance, the facility and
probability of the corruption.
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(delwedd D4420) (tudalen 091)
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Cat in the Pan. 91
When the cowherd's wife upbraids King Alfred
in Speed, for letting the cake at the fire burn, the author observes, she
little suspected him “to be the man that had been served with far more
delicate cates “ (Speed's “History," p. 386), here it signifies a cake,
but in general it means any dainty or delicacy, as in the example following,
and as Dr.' Littleton well notes when he latinizes it in his dictionary, cibi
delicati. In the Moresco feast called Ashorah, Dr. Lancelot Addison tells us
the Moors eat nothing but “dates, figs, parched corn, and all such natural
cates as their substance can procure “(Addison's “Account of West Bar bary,"
p. 214). In Taylor's play, "The hog hath lost his pearl," Lightfoot
says of King Croesus in the shades below, that he is there,
“Feasting with Pluto and Proserpine Night after night with all delicious
cates."
Dodsley's “Old Plays," vol. iii., p. 227.
So in Heywood's “Woman killed with kindness," Anne says: for from this
sad hour,
I never will, nor eat, nor drink, nor taste Of
any cates that may preserve my life."
Ibid. vol. iv., p. 139.
In Lylie's “Euphues," Euphues say?, “be not dainty mouthed; a fine taste
noteth the fond appetites that Venus said her Adonis to have, who seeing him
to take his chief delight in costly cates," etc. (Lylie's
“Euphues," p. 242.) Here it apparently signifies delicacies, and indeed
I take the word to be no other but the last syllable of the word delicate,
for the last cited author, p. 356, uses the word delicate in the very same
sense, when he speaks of the English ladies, “drinking of wine, yet
moderately; eating of delicates, yet but their ears full," and perhaps from
this word cafe, comes to cater and a caterer; which are both of them English,
and not French terms.
Now that this is the true original of this saying is very clear from a
similar corruption in the word salt-cat. A salt-cat is a cake well
impregnated with brine, and laid in a pigeon house, in order to tempt and
entice the birds, who are exceedingly fond of it; and cat, is here used for
cate in the sense of a cake, just as it is in this proverbial saying which we
are now explaining. I am, Sir, yours etc.,
PAUL GEMSEGE.
[i 754, p. 172.]
My author* gives the etymology of cat-in-pan mentioned in your magazine for
February, p. 66, and of Topsy-turvy in that for March, p. 129, as follows:
Catipan, to turn catipan, from a people called Catipani, in Calabria
* See a book containing the derivation of English words. London: printed by
E. H. and W. H., 1689. [See note 26.]
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92 Proverbial Phrases.
and Apulia, who got an ill name by reason of their perfidy; very falsely by
us called cat-in-pan.
Topsy Turvy, q. d. the tops of turves downwards; metaphorically taken from
gravers of turfs.
[1796, Part II., pp. 1065, 1066.]
I received an unexpected pleasure from seeing the celebrated song of
"the Vicar of Bray" in your last Magazine. The example of this
sensible vicar is exhibited to us with peculiar propriety in such a situation
of affairs as we are now placed in; and may probably be attended with
beneficial effects, in a greater or less degree. Amidst revolutions in
governments, and the struggles of contending parties for profit and power,
what has a prudent priest to do, but be quiet during the uncertainty of the
conflict, and, when the victory is decided, then to join the conquerors? This
line of conduct is what I design to pursue, it being my maxim (and I would
recommend it to my brethren) to keep what I have, and get what I can. But
this is not the purport of my writing.
In the last stanza but one of the song, the line, which you print
"My principles I chang'd once more," used, in the older editions,
to be read
"I turn'd my cat-a-pan once more."
The late Dr. Miles Cowper, who had a knack at song-writing, and composed some
popular things about the beginning of the American war, had a conjecture that
the term cat-a-pan was a corruption of the text, and suspected that cat in
pan was the true reading. At first view, this emendation seems plausible;
but, with due deference to such authority, I presume to think the Doctor did
not hit the nail on the head: for who ever heard of turning a cat, in a pan?
A custom in his own college might have helped him to a better solution. At
Shrove-tide, when pancakes are a standing dish, the scholars, who chuse to
try their dexterity at turning a pancake in the frying-pan in the college
kitchen, pay a forfeit on their failure. This practice at once suggests the
genuine reading, viz.
“I turn'd my cake in pan once more."
The gradation of corruption from the original purity is easy to be traced.
The word keep, for brevity's sake, is often pronounced kep; and give me is
abridged to g?me: so also cake, in the rapidity of utterance, becomes cak. In
this way, the expression cake in pan was transmuted into cak in pan, and
thence, for the sake of more speedy delivery, was abbreviated to cak a pan;
just as we say six o'clock by way of dispatch, rather than take up time by
pronouncing six of the clock at full length. The short sound of cake exciting
the idea of that
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Cat. in the Pan. 93
substance which a darling child, who is
introduced by its fond mother to be admired by the company, sometimes drops
involuntarily on the carpet, while the visitors are obliged to hold their
noses till it is removed; the cant word cak was, in process of time, through
delicacy, displaced for the unmeaning term cat; the primitive reading, cake,
being, by long disuse, entirely forgotten. This I apprehend to be the true
state of the case.
However, after all, it is not impossible but the term cat-a-pan might have
been in the author's manuscript; for, it cannot reasonably be supposed, that
so ingenious a clerk as the vicar (who wrote the song, as appears from his
speaking in the first person) should be ignorant of Greek. Cat-a-pan, when
properly distinguished, is literally a Grecian phrase in English characters,
as I shall instantly prove, if Mr. Urban will pardon the trouble I give him
in looking for his Greek types. Kara (3pa%u is Greek for paulatim; xara
xa/goi/ for opportune; and it is as clear as the day, that xara -rai/ is
Greek for omninb, in English, entirely, thoroughly, etc. Now, after restoring
one word, namely me which is the same in sound as my, and might easily be
mistaken by the copyists, the line will run thus: / turrid me cat-a-pan once
more; that is, / turrid myself entirely; or, according to your paraphrase, /
chang'd my principles, as many other men do (and who can call it wrong?) when
it suits their interest to do so.
Perhaps some of your correspondents, who are inclined to controversy, may
give a different account of this matter. But, lest any of them should be
desirous to appear bold by advancing to attack you, I hereby declare, that
being of a peaceable disposition, I will never fight while I have power to
run away.
O. X.
[1812, Part I., p. 228.]
“As busy as the Devil in a high wind," is an adage of probably much
greater antiquity than the legend of Saint Michael, and originated in the
generally-received opinion of the Devil being the author of all mischief.
The proverbial saying to turn cat in band has hitherto been “obscured by the
corrupt pronunciation “Q{ pan for band; and notwithstanding much reading and
some ingenuity have been exhibited by your old Correspondent, in support of
the text to turn cat in pan, yet the attempt to prove that cat is a
corruption of cate, and that cate is "an old word for a cake or other
omelette usually fried, and consequently turned in the pan," is very far
from being satisfactory. Indeed, it is afterwards observed by the same
respectable writer, that “cate is no other but the last syllable of the word
delicate" and that cates signify delicacies. Shakspeare playfully gives
precisely the same definition:
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(delwedd D4423) (tudalen 094)
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94 Proverbial Phrases.
Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
Kate of Kate-Hall, my super-dainty Kate, For
dainties are all Gates
Taming of the Shre'w. [Act. ii., Sc. I.]
I am informed that the words cates and acates, perhaps from the French
ac/tat, frequently occur in house accounts of the sixteenth century; and
uniformly distinguish, in such accounts, the provisions purchased, among
which we may presume to class delicacies or dainties, from such as were the
immediate produce of the farm. It does not then seem reasonable to infer that
the adage in question has any relation to “cate or cake, or other omelette
fried and turned in a pan." Proverbial sayings, generally speaking, took
their rise from circumstances and occurrences familiar to those in the lower
stations of life; from common objects, and not from the habits or customs of
the few in the higher ranks of society. How then is it probable that one of
our most common sayings should allude to a practice, of which the great
majority of mankind, in all ages, may with reason be supposed to be ignorant?
that is to say, the method of dressing certain delicacies for the tables of
the great.
“Give a dog an ill name and hang him," is another old saying and tends
to shew, that before the invention of gunpowder, offending dogs as well as
cats were customarily destroyed by suspension. Since the invention of
gunpowder, another engine of destruction has superseded the cord or band; and
notwithstanding the practice of “shooting the cat"* is doubtless of high
antiquity, yet the proverb now under discussion did evidently take its rise
from the punishment inflicted by hanging, as a cat when suspended by the neck
in a band twirls about, and from its rotary motion and gesticulation
requires, it is said, more space when undergoing this operation of
strangulation, than perhaps any other animal of the same size. Swing^ and
hang are synonymous terms; hence the origin of another old saying, serving to
elucidate and confirm the true reading of the proverb in question; speaking
in derision of a place of small extent we say, "there is not room to
swing a cat," meaning there is not room to hang a cat or for a cat to
turn in band.
JAMES DOWLAND.
[1812, Part I., pp. 308, 309.]
“Cat in the pan." An unknown Correspondent imagines, very naturally,
that it is corrupted from “cate in the pan." These are the very words of
Dr. Johnson (see his Dictionary); and they certainly allude to Paul Gemsege,
i.e. Samuel Pegge: but, as Mr. Dowland seems to think that “much reading and
some ingenuity “ought to give way to a deficiency of both, how far his
pretensions should be supported is the subject of this paper.
* See Grose's Dictionary. f Ibid.
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(delwedd D4424) (tudalen 095)
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Cat in the Pan. 95
It is not my disposition to be witty; and if
anything I shall advance wears that complexion, I beg it may be considered as
merely illustrative of the subject.
Mr. Gemsege, your old Correspondent, tells us the meaning of cat i' th' pan
is “the changing of sides in politics or religion; that the turning of a cake
in a pan very aptly expresses this, or, as we otherwise might say, turning
one's coat;" but Mr. Gemsege no where asserts, or intimates, that it
requires a frequency or repetition of turning to constitute a cat in the pan,
which Mr. Dowland's reasoning implies. Mr. Dowland says, a cat, when suspended
by the neck in a band, twirls about; and by his using the words “rotary
motion," I should suppose him to mean a perpetual one to be necessary,
connecting with it the idea of overcoming the "nine lives of a cat"
by suspension; how he makes the gesticulation of the cat, or that of its
taking up more space than perhaps any other animal during strangulation, to
apply to the proverb “turn cat i' the pan," he has not explained.
Though Mr. Dowland thinks lightly of much learning, I find he attends to as much
of Mr. Gemsege's as he imagines will serve himself, eruditely supporting it
with a proof from Shakespeare. Here I wish Mr. Dowland had not lost sight of
candour; for this, with his saying that, “indeed it is afterwards observed by
the same respectable writer, that cate is no other but the last syllable of
the word delicate, and that cates signifies delicacies," leads the
reader to believe that Mr. Gemsege has relinquished his assertion that cate
means cake; now that he has not done so, take it from his own words:
“When the cowherd's wife upbraids King Alfred, in Speed, for letting the cake
at the fire burn, the author observes, she little suspected him to be the man
that had been served with more delicate cates (Speed's “History," p.
386). Here it signifies a cake, but in general it means any dainty or
delicacy."
Add to this the quotation from Dr. Johnson I started with; for would the
Doctor have said, “Imagines very naturally," if he had not understood
cate in the pan to mean a cake?
But Mr. Dowland himself has proved that cates means cake, though he knows it
not, for his quotation from Shakspeare, taken with his observations thereon,
it is most certain acknowledges as much; he says that delicacies, or dainties
we may presume, come from the farm. Now we will apply this to his quotation
from Shakspeare, and then ask if we can be otherwise than simpletons, if we
do not believe the metaphor:
“My super dainty Kate, For dainties are all Cates,"
to be a rich and most delicious cake? We never, I am positive, can presume it
to mean a sucking pig, or a fat goose, “the immediate produce of the
farm." By a visit to the farm, we shall get acquainted
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(delwedd D4425) (tudalen 096)
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96 Proverbial Phrases.
with a stranger Mr. Dowland has not thought fit to introduce to us; I mean
the salt-cat Mr. Gemsege speaks of, whom I understand to be a very worthy
resident of the Pigeon-house, and well-known to all the people of the farm,
so much so that the most illiterate plough-boy, belonging to the said farm,
will tell you, in his own dialect, all about the salt-cat, just to the same
meaning as Mr. Gemsege has done.
Yours, etc., W. M.
[1812, Part l. t p. 429.]
Your old correspondent tells us the meaning of the words “Cat i' th'
pan," “the changing of sides in politics or religion;" and he tells
us the meaning very rightly, but he does not himself understand how to make
them out. Now I will explain them for him. The words should be written xara
uav; that is, in Latin, omnirib; and in plain English, wholly, or altogether.
Thus in the song of the “Vicar of Bray," the Vicar says, “I changed my
principles xard uav," that is totally. J. M.
[1813, Part I., pp. 627, 628.]
However I may despise the gross misrepresentations contained in the letter
signed W. M.,and lament the spirit of rancour and unmanly bitterness in which
it is written; however I may be blamed by those whose opinions claim respect
from me for thus taking notice of an anonymous attack, as weak as it is
calumnious, and manifesting a want of that spirit which should influence the
actions of a good man; yet, feeling as I do, in the situation of one at the
bar of the public, I must crave leave of you, Mr Urban, to be heard in my defence.
In my endeavour to show that, in the saying “to turn cat in pan," the
word/a is a corruption of band, every impartial and unprejudiced man will, I
trust, acquit me of ill-manners and of want of candour, in citing your old
correspondent, Paul Gemsege, whom I personally knew, and whose opinions I
wished to treat with becoming respect. But, much as I am inclined to
reverence “grey-headed doctrines," I must be allowed to preserve the
liberty of my own judgment; and as my faith is not so strong as to bear all
the lumber thrown in its way, or so easy as to believe, without examination,
all that is told, I claim the privilege of thinking for myself, and of
sifting the opinions of other, even against a torrent of authorities, under
the exalted names of that Colossus in Literature, Dr. Samuel Johnson, and
that polite scholar and Antiquary, the late Rev. Dr. Samuel Pegge. If these
literary characters were not infallible; if, on the contrary, it can be shown
that in tracing the origin of this proverbial saying, they have (mistakingly)
perverted some words, and disagreed in the meaning of others; I shall stand
protected by the rhyming adage:
“When Doctors disagree, Disciples then are free."
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(delwedd D4426) (tudalen 097)
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Cat in the Pan. 97
In vol. xxiv., pp. 66, 212 [See note 27] may
be found all that Dr. Pegge, under the anagrammatical signature of Paul
Gemsege, advanced in favour of the text “cat in pan;" and I request such
of your readers, Mr. Urban, as are in possession of the early volumes of the
“Gentleman's Magazine" to refer to his authorities, which I should be
glad to give at length, were it consistent with the limits of your
publication to allow such an indulgence.
It is observed by Dr. Johnson that the word cates has no singular;* indeed,
there is not to be found in the English language such a word as cate; yet we
are told by Mr. Gemsege “the word [cat] no doubt is cafe, which is another
word for a cake or other aumalette!" This is a pretty round assertion,
and, it is presumed, destitute of all authority. He takes “cate to be no
other than the last syllable of the word delicate," giving a rather
unlucky instance from Lilly, who, in his “Euphues," speaks of the English
ladies “eating deleter. “Mr. Gemsege then observes, “perhaps from this word
cate comes to cater, and a caterer;" perhaps not; cate being an airy
nothing, and the mere child of imagination, cannot be the etymon of cater.
Dr. Johnson says cater is from cates with the authority of Junius before him,
who observes that the Dutch have kater in the same sense with our cater.
Mr. Gemsege having deduced his favourite cate from delicate (the propriety of
which he himself afterwards justly called in question, suggesting that cate
might be from the French achat, a word signifying a purchase, bargain,
buying, etc.), goes on, "that this is the true original of this saying
is very clear from a similar corruption in the word saltcat; a saltcat is a
cake well impregnated with brine, and laid in a pigeon house in order to
tempt and entice the birds," etc. Now really, Mr. Urban, & saltcat
SQ enticingly described would almost lead one to suppose it to be “a rich and
most delicious cake!" It is, however, no such thing. To support his
hypothesis, Mr. Gemsege had recourse to a maze of words, and to ringing
changes, as it were, upon cates, cate, and cat, to prove, if he could, that
they all signify “a cake, or other aumalette;" well knowing, that on
failure of doing this, his explanation of the saying would fall to the
ground, and that his cat, instead of being “in the fryingpan," would be
“in the fire." His fondness for the non-entity cate, reminds me of a
man, who having but one story, and that about a gun, would mistake any noise
for the report of one, that he might introduce his story. Dr. Johnson's
definition of saltcat is “a lump of salt," and in this neighbourhood a
"saltcat is a misshapen mass of clay impregnated with brine, or
generally with a less expensive saline ingredient: but in preparing it for
use, it is neither baked or fried, and consequently as this cat
* Notwithstanding this positive assertion by the Doctor, cate has most
anomalously and feebly found its way into the late editions of his
Dictionary, attended with a quotation from Shakespeare, proving its
non-existence as a word.
7
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(delwedd D4427) (tudalen 098)
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98 Proverbial Phrases.
is not turned in the pan, it cannot have any more relation to the saying than
the owl and gridiron in the sign.
“Cat in the pan," says Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary, “is imagined by
some to be rightly written catipan, as coming from ' Catipania.' An unknown
Correspondent imagines, very naturally, that it is corrupted from cate in the
pan." “Turning of the cat in the pan," taking the meaning from the
Doctor's citation, “is, when that which a man says to another, he lays it as
if another had said it to him." Our great Lexicographer certainly knew
no more of the meaning of this saying than he did of the word pastern when he
called it “the knee of an horse;"* and how he came to assert that it was
“naturally imagined" to be a corruption from cate in the pan, when cate
is not to be found, as an authorized word, in his own or any other
Dictionary, or work, in the English language, seems wonderful. Such slips as
these ought, in charity, to be considered as the aberrations of a great mind,
which could not bend to trifles as the objects of research.
Whether Mr. Gemsege has made out a good case in favour of the saying “cat in
pan," or I have succeeded in overturning it, by restoring that which I
think is the true text, namely, “cat in band," I appeal to the judgment
of unbiased minds to decide; and, willing to allow all men the liberty of
their own sentiments, I shall take leave of this subject, after making a few
observations on the letter signed W. M.
In a manner the most gross and ungentlemanly, I am charged by W. M. with
"seeming to think" that much reading and some ingenuity ought to
give way to a deficiency of both of thinking lightly of much learning, and of
want of candour. Whether these charges can be supported by what is advanced
in my letter, must be determined by other and better judges than W. M., who
has wilfully perverted my reasoning in support of cat in band, by making it
referable to the corruption cat in pan. He makes me say that delicacies or
dainties came from the farm; whereas I classed delicacies or dainties among
the purchased provisions, in contradistinction to such as were the produce of
the farm. He then goes on misquoting, and lays upon my shoulders the luggage
of his own ignorance, by asserting, that, without knowing it, I have proved,
in citing the passage from Shakespeare, “dainties are all cates," that
cates means cake; and then, with great puerility, asks “if we can be
otherwise than simpletons, if we do not believe this to be a rich and most
delicious cake?" The word cates, in Johnson's Dictionary, is thus
defined: “Viands; food; dish of meat: generally employed to signify nice and
luxurious food;" and Shakespeare, in this passage, intended to designate
that which is nice and luxurious: for by transposition we have the sense in this
* See Dictionary, eel. 1755.
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(delwedd D4428) (tudalen 099)
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Cat in the Pan. 99
sentence, all cates are dainties. To use the
simple language of W. M., what “a simpleton “a man must be, to believe that
Shakespeare here meant to convey the idea of “a rich and most delicious
cake!"
It is unquestionably proved, that there is no such word as cafe. If the
saying took its rise from the plural word cafes, then, to be consistent, the
advocates for the old should adopt a new reading; and cats i' tK pan would be
“illustrative of the subject," by proclaiming its own origin. Now,
should these be living cats, and they would answer all the purposes of the
saying as well as dead ones, a person prone to mischief (I will not say W.
M.), would, “very naturally," be gratified with the employment of
“turning “such velvet-footed delicacies, and be highly delighted with the
discord which would doubtless attend it.
In phrase most singular we are told by W. M. that he “started with a
quotation from Dr. Johnson;" and before he has run the length of a
decent distance, he insinuates that he intends to win in a canter, by
enlightening the course he has to go over, with some flashes of illustrative
wit. Not having any wit of my own, I do not pretend to judge of it in others;
but, I presume, the dreadful coruscation we were led to expect, lies in his
observation upon the words “rotary motion," which were innocently used
by me, in opposition to motion rectilinear: a word probably not in W. M.'s
vocabulary, as he does not appear to have any practical knowledge of its
meaning.
Passing over a misquotation where he makes me say “cates signifies
delicacies," I come to the last and dying flash of his illustrative wit,
on being introduced, in language appropriately elegant to a saltcat “the
salt-cat Mr. Gemsege speaks of, w/i0m," says W. M., "I understand
to be a very worthy resident of the pigeon-house, and well known to all the
people of the farm, so much so, that the most illiterate plough-boy will tell
you, in his own dialect, all about the saltcat, just to the same meaning as
Mr. Gemsege has done." This story “all about the saltcat “is froth
without ink, and too ridiculous for criticism; the meaning of the word having
been already explained, it is unnecessary to say more on that head, than
merely to remark that W. M. has adopted the most infallible method to prevent
the diffusion of knowledge, by setting up something in the room of it; it
being fair to conclude that were his friend, the “illiterate
plough-boy," to declare, “in his own dialect," that the sun is no
bigger than a cheese-vat, and that the moon is made of green-cheese, he would
believe "all about it, just to the same meaning as the plough-boy,"
and propagate these absurdities.
And now, having drawn back the curtain which has hitherto been spread over
this subject, I shall take a final leave of it. If I am wrong, I shall
acknowledge my error when I am better informed; but I do not mean to seek for
truth in troubled or muddy waters, or to reply to the scoffs or buffoonery of
the rude or the ignorant. A
72
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ioo Proverbial Phrases.
well-dressed man may fight with a chimney-sweeper, and beat him; but in the
conflict his clothes might be so much daubed, and made to stink of soot, that
the victory would but ill requite him for the disorder he would be put into.
Yours, etc., JAMES DOWLAND.
[1813, Part //.,//. 334-335-]
Though it is so long since as your July Supplement, 1812, that Mr. Dowland's
second letter appeared, there has no one stepped forward in vindication of
the learned author of “Anonymiana," that staunch supporter of the
Gentleman's Magazine, the once worthy and much respected Paul Gemsege. Permit
me then, sir, again to address you in his behalf.
I do not mean to enter into a full discussion of Mr. Dowland's letter; that
will appear presently unnecessary: indeed, any remark of mine you will think
so; and I shall only trouble you with one or two observations, out of many,
to convince him that his arguments are assailable.
You will recollect, Mr. Urban, that Mr. Pegge merely offered to explain the
etymon of Cat-in-pan; he did not conceive any alteration of its name; and in
the support of its etymon, he brought forward several quotations, together
with the salt-cat; that Mr. D. not only disputed the aptness of these
quotations, but set his face against the salt-cat and proposed Cat-in-band as
the true reading; and he instanced the gesticulation and “twirling rotary
motion “of a suspended cat in a state of strangulation to make it pass
muster; but it is Mr. Pegge's salt-cat, which Mr. D. was so shy of
introducing, that I wish the reader to be more acquainted with.
A salt-cat, Mr. D. asserts, does not mean a salt cake, but he has not told us
what it does mean; thus leaving every one to his own conjecture: but my
opinion is with Mr. Pegge, as cited by me, April, 1812, p. 309; and I hesitate
not in pronouncing Mr. D. too hasty in his conclusion, in saying, because Dr.
Johnson defines salt-cat a mis-shapen lump of clay, that it is merely so; and
I ask Mr. D. what else he would define a tallow cake made up of fat enveloped
and congealed in the slaughtered animal's caul, than a lump of mis-shapen
fat? Mr. D. surely does not mean that a salt-cat is of the race of
“velvet-footed “Grimalkins; for either, “alive or dead," I believe, the
practice would not become very general to place the said Grim in a cote as a
lure for pigeons: we should rather depend, it is reasonable to think, upon
the mis-shapen lump of clay, impregnated as it always is with warm fragrant
seeds, the cummin seed, and other comfortables, for that purpose; and it must
be delicious, though Mr. D. says it is not, to entice the pigeons from their
usual food and homes; but I confess, Mr. Urban, that I never tasted, not even
the "'less expensive one."
There is clearly an error, too, in Mr. D.'s proofs of a discrepancy of
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(delwedd D4430) (tudalen 101)
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Cat in the Pan. 101
meaning in cafes and cat, as the corruption of
cake; and it is remarkable that he should quote Dr. Johnson's authority,
whose horse's pastern he ridicules, to countenance him in his error. Mr. D.
says, Dr. Johnson defines cafes “viands, food;" this is as much as to
say, that cat, the corruption of cake, is not food: but bread, I do maintain,
is the staff of life; and my housekeeper not unfrequently, in the doughy
state of the loaf, reserves a bit of it for a homely cake, such as I suppose
the cowherd's wife to have entertained her Royal guest with, after having
shown the immortal Alfred much of her virago airs, for his inattention during
the baking process.
There is another passage in Mr. D.'s letter that I must request to allude to,
as he has pledged himself to the publick. He says, “if I am wrong,"
meaning in the substitution of Cat-in-band for Cat-in-pan y “I will
acknowledge my error when I am better informed." This information may be
found in the following quotation from Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. i., p. 193,
from Edward's "Damon and Pithias," of the date 1571:
“Our fine Philosopher, our trimme learned elfe, Is gone to see as false a
spie as himselfe, Damon smatters as well as he of craftie philosphie, And can
toitrne Cat in the panne very prettily; But Carisophus hath given him such a
mightie checke As I think in the end will break his neck."
In the last Magazine, p. 240 (Sept.), Mr. D. has given an authority from “The
Nomenclator of Adrianus Junius, imprinted in 1585," upon the conviction
that it is decisive of what it is meant to establish, “wine of one
year." I too, upon the same conviction, have just given an older
authority by fourteen years than his, to establish Catin-pan; the like
applies to both. I therefore, Mr. Urban, as one of that publick Mr. D. has
pledged himself to, now call upon him to acknowledge his error.
Yours, etc., W. M.
Cock's Stride.
[1759, P- 16.]
The countryman has a method of making a guess at the lengthening or
shortening of the days, concerning which he has a saying that I believe is
very general all over England
At New Year's tide
They are lengthened a cock's stride.
Everybody knows the meaning of this saying, to wit, that it intends to
express the lengthening of the days in a small but perceptible degree; but
very few, I imagine, are aware of the ground and occasion of it, which is the
less to be wondered at, since there is something uncommon
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IO2 Proverbial Phrases.
and seemingly improper in applying long measure, inches, and feet to time.
But the countryman knows what he says, and as I take it, borrows his idea
from hence: at the winter solstice he observes where the shadow of the upper
lintel of his door falls at 12 o'clock, and makes a mark. At New Year's day,
the sun being higher, when at the meridian, he finds the shadow is come
nearer the door by four or five inches, which for rhime's sake he calls a
cock's stride, and so by that he expresses the sensible increase of the day.
Whereupon, sir, you will please to observe, that before the stile was
altered, which was long after this saying came into use, the distance of time
was greater by eleven days between the “solstice “and New Year's day than it
is now; and consequently, the difference as to the sun's altitude, or the
length of the days at those two times, would be more perceptible than it is
now.
P. GEMSEGE.
Cunning as Crowder.
[1754, //. 211, 212.]
Dr. Fuller died while he was writing that extensive work entitled the
“History of the Worthies of England," for which reason, amongst others,
that book is not so complete as one could wish. In some counties he has
register^ the "proverbial sayings “peculiar to them, in others he has
omitted them, and yet those counties no doubt afforded some, tho' the doctor
could not recollect them. One saying we have in the northern parts, omitted
by him, which is there very common, but perhaps wants some explanation; it is
this, “as cunning as Crowder." Now a crowd is a fiddle, and a crowder is
a fiddler, both which words, to go no further, you will find in Dr.
Littleton's dictionary. Hence crowdero is the fiddler in “Hudibras,"
Cant. II. But why as cunning as Crowder? I answer, we have two senses of the
word cunning, one implying craft and subtilty, and often in an ill sense, and
the other implying art and skill, and always in a good one. Hence cininj and
coninj, rex t from Anglo-Saxon connen, scire. King is an abbreviation of
curing, and imports prudens, sciens, or the knowing one, the first kings or
monarchs among the Saxons being chosen into their office (which was not
hereditary then) on account of their greater and more consummate knowledge in
the administration of affairs, especially the military. But I observe that
the word in this latter use was very commonly applied to skill or knowledge
in music, of which I will here produce you an instance or two.
i Sam. xvi. 16, 17, 18. “Seek out a man who is a cunning player upon an harp.
And Saul said unto his servants, Provide me now a man that can play well, and
bring him to me. Then answered one of the servants and said, Behold I
haveseenason of Jesse the Bethlehemite, that is cunning in playing,"
etc.
i Chron. xxv. 7. “So the number of them, with their brethren
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Cunning as Crowder. 103
that were instructed in the songs of the Lord, even all that were cunning,
was two hundred fourscore and eight."
Psa. Iviii. 5. “Which will not hearken to the voice of the charmers, charming
never so wisely." According to the margin, “be the charmer never so
cunning /" whereupon, it must be observ'd, that this charming of
serpents here alluded to was suppos'd to be effected by music.
Psa. cxxxvii. 5. “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her
cun ning." This is spoken by King David, the same person who above, by
the prophet Samuel, is styled a “cunning player on an harp," and by the
late learned Mr. Johnson is very well paraphrased thus: “If I do not retain
my natural affection for thee, O Jerusalem, the city of the living God, and
the divine services which are there to be perform'd; if I forget to perform
my part in those solemn devotions, let my hand quite lose its skill in
touching the harp." See also Bishop Patrick. In all these passages the
substantive means skill, and the adjective skilful, but particularly in the
science of music.
To come then to the point; I suppose there was a time formerly, when
minstrels were so scarce, that it denoted great parts and great application
to be able to play on a violin in these parts at least: To be as cunriiing as
crowder, imported consequently a person of skill and abilites; and if ever
the phrase is us'd of craft and artifice, it is by catachresis, or an abuse
of speech, as happens very commonly in language.
I am, Sir, yours, etc., PAUL GEMSEGE,
[i 754, p. 256.]
Mr. Gemsege has given a very pretty account of the saying, “As cunning as
Crowder" (see p. 211), it may be a true one; but the same saying in the
N.W. part of England (perhaps not so ancient as his) came from the following
story: “One Samuel Crowder, a carrier, was desired to bring a pound of
tobacco for a neighbour; accordingly he buys the tobacco, and packs it up in
the mouth of a sack of salt, it being wet weather, and the salt moist, breaks
through the paper in which the tobacco was contained, and next day, when
Crowder and his wife were unpacking, to their great surprise, found the
tobacco and some of the salt mixed together. His wife Mary made great
lamentations to have so much tobacco and salt spoiled, which must certainly
be paid for by them; but Samuel, wondering at his wife's simplicity, told her
he had thought of a method of separating them immediately, and ordered her to
fetch a pail of water, which was done; he then emptied the tobacco and salt
into the water. “Now," says he to his wife, “there is a quick thought of
mine, you fool! you see all the tobacco swims at the top, and all the salt
falls to the bottom." So when any person does not act quite so smart as
they should, they are said to be “as cunning as Crowder."
Yours, BRITTANICUS.
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IO4 Proverbial Phrases.
Dab at Anything.
[1767, pp. 441, 442.]
Your correspondents have now and then entertained us with the explanation of
an obscure phrase or proverb, and their attempts were generally well
receiv'd. Some of your readers would be pleased with them, whilst others
would be disposed to laugh, which come to the same thing, namely, the
amusement of both parties, and consequently answered one purpose of your
Magazine, which was to intermix the dulce with the utile. I propose, then, to
endeavour here the explication of one of our common phrases, of which
everyone knows the meaning, and but few, as I take it, the original. 'Tis a
common saying with us that a person is a "dab at such or such a
thing," at music, for example, bowling, etc.; and sometimes people will
say, "he is dab," without naming in what, leaving you to supply
that from the subject you happen to be talking upon. Now, all know that the
sense and meaning of these expressions is that the party is one that is very
expert in science, or at the exercise in question. However, these expression
are mere vulgarisms, are seldom met with in authors, and only find a place in
our canting dictionaries. But, nevertheless, the word dab may possibly have a
rational cause or origin, though to many it may be hard to investigate. This,
then, is what I shall try to do.
Now, as the word dab does not seem to be an old English one, that is neither
deducible from the British or the Saxon, 'tis probably a corruption of some
better and more legitimate term, and, as I think, of the word adept. An adept
is a term peculiar to the Hermetic philosophy, being allotted to the
consummate proficients in alchymy, of whom the principal were Ripley, Lully,
Paracelsus, Helmont, etc. And Mr. Chambers tells us," That it is a sort
of tradition among the alchymists that there are always twelve adepti; and
that their places are immediately supplied by others, whenever it pleases any
of the fraternity to die, or transmigrate into some other place, where he may
make use of his gold; for that in this wicked world it will scarce purchase
them a shirt." From thence the word came to be applied metaphorically to
other matters, and consequently to signify a person far advanced or perfect
in anything; and therefore it obtains exactly the same sense as a dab does;
wherefore I take this latter to be a vulgar corruption of the word adept,
which is no other than the Latin adeptus. Just as that other expression,
which we have in the north, a cute man, is an abbreviation of acute, or the
Latin acutus, and signifies a person that is sharp, clever, neat; or to use a
more modern term, jemmy, according to the subject you may happen to be speaking
of. Spice, again, is a word which we use in the sense of a jot, bit, small
portion, or least mixture; as when we say, there is no spice of evil in
perfect goodness; in which case it is the latter part of the French
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Drunk as David's Sow. 105
word espece, which was anciently adopted into our language in this very
sense, as appears from these words of Caxton: “God's bounte
is all pure wythout ony espece of evyll." Caxton's "Mirrour of
the World," cap. i. Espece is formed, after the manner of the French,
from the Latin species.
T. Row. Drunk as David's Sow.
[181 1, Part I., pp. 634,635.]
CURIOSUS, vol. Ixxx., ii., p. 280, asks for the origin of the proverb,
"As Drunk as David's Sow." He will find an account of it in the
"British Apollo," 1711, vol. i., p. 572, of which the following is
a copy:
“David Lloyd, a Welshman, kept an ale-house in the town of Hereford, and had
a kind of monstrous sow, with six legs, which he showed to customers as a
valuable rarity. This David's wife would often rise to make herself quite
drunk, and then lie down to sleep an hour or two, that she might qualify
herself for the performance of her business. But one day the house was full,
and she could find no other place to sleep in but the hogsty, where her
husband kept the sow abovenamed on clean straw; so she very orderly went in,
and fell asleep by her harmonious companion. But the sow no sooner found the
door upon the jar, but out she slipt, and rambled to a considerable distance
from the yard, in joy for her deliverance. David had that day some relations
come to see him, who had been against his marrying; and, to give them an
opinion of his prudent choice, he took occasion to inform them he was sorry
that his wife was then abroad, because he would have had them seen her: '
For,' says David, ' surely never man was better matched, or met with a more
quiet, sober wife than I am blest in.' They congratulated his good fortune,
and were after a short time, desired by David to go and see the greatest
wonder of e sow that ever had been heard of in the world. He led them to tha
hogsty door, and opening it to its full wideness, the first thing they saw
was, his good wife in such a posture and condition, as, upon her starting up
and calling David husband, gave occasion for a hearty fit of laughter;"
and the proverb you have mentioned.
Yours, etc., R. W.
Eyes draw Straws.
[1790, Part //., /. 978.]
It is a current expression, in a great part of the kingdom, to say of a
person, when his eyes are heavy and he is much inclined to sleep, that his
eyes draw straws. I have never seen this phrase or mode of speaking
explained, and therefore may venture, till a more plausible illustration of
it is offered, to hazard a conjecture, as thus: when a person is disposed to
doze, his eyelids do not draw up above a straw's
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io6 Proverbial Phrases.
breadth before they close again; so that the meaning and origin of this
saying a saying founded, as you see, in Nature is that the person's eyes,
meaning his eye-lids, open or draw up, not more than a straw's breadth, and
is opposed to the wide and broad stare.
L. K
[1790, Part I I., p. 1185.]
A correspondent, p. 978, has endeavoured to explain the meaning of the
current and vulgar expression made use of to persons when inclined to sleep.
It may be thought a trifling subject in your repository; however, since it
has appeared, we may as well endeavour to throw a proper light thereon,
particularly as your correspondent seems to be so much in the dark; indeed, I
have reason to fear he was never trusted with fire and candle when going to
sleep, or he would not have attempted an explanation so wide of the mark. But
I ask pardon for my familiarity; and (joking apart) will make him amends, if
I can, by giving him and your readers a more plausible illustration.
Let any one close his eyes nearly, and look at a candle placed at some
distance: the rays of light will resemble straws, both in breadth and colour.
The motion of the eyelids will appear to draw them from the luminary to which
they are directed. Therefore those inclined to sleep will consequently, if
looking towards a candle, occasion their eyes to draw straws. Whence the
vulgar saying.
NIDITY NOD.
[1790, Part 77. , p. 1185.]
What L. E., p. 978, attempts to illustrate he really darkens; for he goes off
from the eyes to the eyelids, which by the way do not draw up half a straw's
breadth, at the time he speaks of, before they close again. The current
expression, then, is not founded on nature.
The meaning is nothing more than this: let any person at night, sitting
before a fire or a candle, wink with his eyes; the rays of light from the
object, being broken by the hairs of the eyelash, will appear like straws.
I recollect the phrase was used in London above sixty years ago: “Put the
child to bed, for his eyes draw straws." This may serve, if you think
proper, to fill such a corner in your useful repository, as you gave to your
correspondent L. E.
W.
Keeling the Pot.
[i76o,//. 169, 170.]
At the end of a play of Shakespeare's entitled “Love's Labour's Lost,"
you may remember there is a song, which thus strongly characterises winter:
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Keeling the Pot. 107
“When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail; And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail; When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit, to-who;
A merry note,
While greasy Jone doth KEEL
“When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marion's nose looks red and raw; When roasted crabbs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl, To-whit, to-who;
A merry note,
While greasy Jone doth
The whole is so highly descriptive, that I
believe few of your readers have read it so often, as to be displeased at
their having this occasion for reading it again. The design of my producing
it at present is, that I may endeavour to trace out the etymology and
signification of the word keel, about which the critics seem utterly at a
loss. One of Shakespeare's Glossographers says, “Keel seems here to mean to
drink so deep as to turn up the bottom of the pot, like turning up the keel
of a ship." To say the best of this interpretation, it affords no
emphasis nor propriety to the epithet given to Jone. Mr. Johnson explains the
word from the Saxon ccelan, to cool; but if this had been Shakespeare's
meaning, he would probably have expressed it by the more usual word cool.
Besides, it is evident from the epithet greasy, that Jone appears in the
office of cook, who would hardly be described as cooling the pot, but rather
as endeavouring to make it boil; neither of these, therefore, seems to be the
true sense of the word; and what other conjectures have been made concerning
it, I have not at present an opportunity of inquiring.
It appears to me, however, more than a conjecture, that what Shakespeare
intended by this word, was to express the action of putting herbs into the
pot, in order to make a kind of broth, or pottage, very common amongst our
ancestors. Kele (Saxon, capl; Low Dutch, kool; German, kohl) was, says
Verstegan, the chief winterwort for the service of the husbandman. For hence
the month of February was called '"by the Saxons sprout-kele-mand (as it
is now by the Hollanders, sprokkelmaand), because in that month the kele,
cale, or cole-worts begin to sprout afresh. The Scots to this day, not only
call their pot-herbs kale, the place where they grow a kale-yard, and the
knife with which they cut them to a proper size before they put them into the
pot a kale-gully; but they also call the broth which is
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made with them kale. Now, supposing the word keel or kele to have signified
the herbs which our ancestors used to put into their pottage, a verb formed
from it would signify the applying those herbs to that purpose; just as to
salt, to water, to gravel, to sand, to clay, to manure to dirt, to colour, to
paint, and the like, signify to apply salt, water, gravel, sand, etc., to
their respective recipients. Keeling the pot in this sense of it would be
properly a characteristic of Jone's cooking the broth, against Dick and Tom
and the rest of them came in to supper.
If you think these observations worth the notice of your readers, you may
give them a place in your next Magazine. I know the meaning of a single word,
tho' it be Shakespeare's is a matter of small importance; but as I have
endeavoured to explain this as briefly as I well could, the explanation I
have given may possibly please some, and cannot reasonably give much offence
to any.
M. W. C.
[1760, //. 218, 219.]
Your correspondent's etymology, and signification, of the word keel, in your
last Magazine, is, I acknowledge, very ingenious, and not so far fetched as
is frequent in such attempts; but I apprehend is not just. I beg leave, by
your means, to inform him that Shakespeare's phrase of keeling the pot is in
common use in this country, among the servant-maids and country-people;
insomuch that many would smile at one's ignorance in asking the meaning of
it. “It means here no more than cooling the broth with the ladle, when the
fire is so fierce as to endanger its boiling over." The term is applied
in other instances too. In brewing, to keel the copper, when the wort is
likely to boil over. To keel the wort, when it is exposed to cool in shallow
vessels. To keel, therefore, as well as to cool, both undoubtedly came from
the old Anglo-Saxon word ccelan refrigerare. I presume, therefore, that Mr.
Johnson's etymology and signification should not be deviated from. The word
keel fat occurs in Skinner's Etymologicon Linguae, Anglicanae, and is
interpreted a vessel to cool the wort in; and in Low Dutch the word keel vat
has the same signification. See Ainsworth's Dictionary likewise, under the
word keel. This explanation, too, I should imagine, would do more justice to
Shakespeare's subject, than that of your correspondent; to whom I hope this information
will not be unentertaining, as I dare say he does not know that keeling the
pot is at present a local term in common use.
Yours, etc., T. A.
Notwithstanding what your correspondent, in the last Magazine, says to the
contrary, I am clearly of opinion (with Mr. Johnson) that Shakespeare, by the
expression of KEEL the pot meant no other than COOL the pot, which is an
expression still in use in some parts
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Mont ft s Mind to it. 109
of Yorkshire; where I have frequently heard the good woman cry out, when it
has been in danger of boiling over, “KEEL the pot" which is done by
first taking part of the pottage out with a ladle, and then gradually pouring
it into the pot again, which is thus effectually keeled or cooled; a proper
office for greasy Jone, in the character of a farmer's cook. This may
suffice, I hope, to remove your correspondent's objection to a most easy
solution of an expression altogether local, and to which he may, for that
very reason, be supposed a stranger.
EBORACENCIS.
Month's mind to it. [i 765,^. 137.]
I dare say you have frequently heard it said by those who have a great desire
to have or to do something, that they have a month's mind to it, and it is
probable that neither you, nor any of your readers, can account for the
expression. I am not sure that I can do it perfectly myself; but I have
something to communicate on the subject, that will perhaps afford entertainment,
if not instruction.
The following is an extract from the will of Thomas Windsor, Esq., which was
dated in the year 1479:
“Item, I will that I have brennying at my burial and funeral service, four
tapers and twenty-two torches of wax, every taper to conteyn the weight of
ten pounds, and every torch sixteen pounds, which I will that twenty-four
very poor men, and well disposed, shall hold, as well at the tyme of my
burying as at my monethe's minde.
“Item, I will that after my monethe's minde done, the said four tapers be
delivered to the church-wardens, etc.
“And that there be 100 children within the age of 16 years to be
at my monethe's mind to say for my soul That against my
monethe's mind the candles bren before the rude in the parish church.
“Also, that at my monethe's mind my executors provide 20 priests to sing
placebo, direge, etc."
The monethe's mind mentioned in this extract was a service performed for the
dead one month after their decease; there were also week's mindes, and year's
mindes, which were services for the dead performed at the end of a week and
of a year.
The word mind signified remembrance; a month's mind was a remembrance after a
month; a year's mind a remembrance after a year. The phrase month's mind
survived the custom of which it was the name, and the words being still
remembered as coupled, when their original meaning was almost forgotten, it
is, I think, easy to conceive that a person who had a strong desire to a
thing, might, instead of saying I have a mind to it, say I have a month's
mind to if, as meaning something more.
Yours, etc., D. S.
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no Proverbial Phrases.
Nine of Diamonds the Curse of Scotland.
[1786, Part I., pp. 301, 302.]
There is a common expression made use of at cards, which I have never heard
any explanation of. I mean, the nine of diamonds being commonly called the
“curse of Scotland." Looking lately over a book of heraldry, I found
nine diamonds, or lozenges, conjoined, or, in the heraldic language, Gules, a
cross of lozenges, to be the arms of Packer.
Colonel Packer appears to have been one of the persons who was on the
scaffold when Charles the First was beheaded, and afterwards commanded in
Scotland, and is recorded to have acted in his command with considerable severity.
It is possible that his arms might, by a very easy metonymy, be called the
curse of Scotland, and the nine of diamonds, at cards, being very similar in
figure to them, might have ever since retained the appellation.
Allusions in old writers to family arms are by no means unfrequent,
Shakespeare's Plays, particularly his historical ones, are full of them. In
the second part of Henry the Sixth, the Earl of Salisbury, and his son the
Earl of Warwick, are called bears, from their crest. The Duke of York says:
"Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,* That with the very
shaking of their chains They may astonish these fell lurking curs: Bid
Salisbury and Warwick come to me."
And afterwards old Clifford says to Earl Warwick:
“Might I but know thee by thy house's badge," when Warwick replies:
“Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest, The rampant bear chain'd to
the ragged staff, This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet."
I think the hint may be of some use, and perhaps lead to explain some passages
in our antient writers, and some familiar (though unintelligible) expressions
that we frequently hear.
Yours, etc., M.
[1786, Part II., p. 538.]
A correspondent, in your March Magazine, expressing a desire to know the
origin of the nine of diamonds being called the “curse of Scotland," I
beg leave to offer the following explanation, which I have been assured is
the true: That the night before the battle of Culloden, the Duke of
Cumberland thought proper to send orders to
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Nine of Diamonds the Curse of Scotland, 1 1 1
General (Campbell, I think, but am not quite certain) not to give quarter;
and this order, being despatched in much haste, happened to be written on a
card, and that card the nine of diamonds; from which time and circumstance it
has gone by the appellation in question.
[1786, PartIL,p. 538.]
A well-wisher to the success of your Magazine observes a query put there, which
has not been answered to his satisfaction, concerning the reason why the nine
of diamonds is called the “curse of Scotland." The following answer to
the question will, it is hoped, prove satisfactory. When the Duke of York (a
little before his succession to the crown) came to Scotland, he and his suite
introduced a new game, there called “comet," where the ninth of diamonds
is an important card.* The Scots who were to learn the game felt it to their
cost; and from that circumstance the ninth of diamonds was nick-named the
"curse of Scotland."
%* Another correspondent suggests that the nine of diamonds resembles the
arms of the Dalrymples, and that Lord Stair (a famous hero of that family)
was the curse of Scotland.
[1786, Part II., p. 1 1 22.]
Considering the little importance of the subject, a great deal has been
offered in explanation of that common, though ungenteel custom of
stigmatizing the nine of diamonds with the curse of Scotland. Nothing that
has been advanced seems yet satisfactory; and what is hazarded as a further
conjecture, at p. 968 of your last Magazine, appears equally improbable with
the rest. In a French treatise now before me, intituled “Academic Universelle
des Jeux," printed at Paris, 1739, the game of comete is described at full
length, with all the established laws and rules plainly laid down. One of
these is to play with two whole packs: the first to contain all the red
cards, the other the black. Each pack thus formed is to be used alternately;
the nine of diamonds being the red comete, and the nine of clubs the black.
So there must be two comete cards; these are placed among the cards of the
contrary colour, to render them more distinguishable. By this method there
will be two cometes moving in the same circle, and both equally liable to the
curse of Scotland, according to the tradition of P. C. But this discovery
throws a negative against his supposition. Besides, I have been engaged many
times in a party at this game abroad, where, to prevent trouble, one
undivided common pack has served; and the nine of spades was then honoured
with the figure of a comet painted thereon. "This game," says my
French author, “is so called on account of the long sequence of cards which
* By the rules of the game the nine of diamonds answers for any card
whatever.
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H2 Proverbial Phrases.
is frequently played. Comets being usually accompanied by a long train of
light, known by the name of the Comet's Tail."
OBSERVATOR. [1787, Part I., p. 130.]
Give me leave to add one more conjecture concerning the nine of diamonds.
The curse of Scotland must be something which that nation hate and detest;
but the Scots hold in the utmost detestation the Pope. At the game of Pope
Joan the nine of diamonds is Pope; therefore the nine of diamonds is the
curse of Scotland.
Q. E. D.
[1789, Parti., p. 39.]
The old saying of "curse of Scotland" was understood of the number
nine in general, as alluding to nine kings of Scotland, who reigned
tyrannically (some say successively); and diamonds being most emblematical of
royalty, the appearance of the nine of that suit revived always the idea of
the nine tyrants in the minds of card-players at any game; and they naturally
made the application. After the battle of Culloden, in 1746, the same card
was usually called "the Duke of Cumberland."
Old Maids leading Apes in Hell.
[1798, Part I., p. 114.]
I have often wished to discover the meaning of the saying of “old maids
leading apes in hell," but can get no information; but upon reading
Hayley's “Essay on Old Maids," I found that the saying was invented by
the monks to allure young women into the cloisters, telling them that, if
they were not connected to man or God, they must expect in a future state to
be joined to some disgusting companions. This, I think, is the most probable.
I shall be obliged to any of your correspondents to inform me the true
meaning of this proverb, or where is the account of this being ascribed to
the monks to be found. But the expression of leading apes does not appear to
accord to this story in the “Essay on old Maids." REPANDUNUM.
Old Nick.
[i 777, / 439-]
In page 119 of your present volume, we are told that “nobody has accounted
for the Devil's having the name of Old Nick." Had your correspondent
consulted Junius's “Etymologicum Anglicanum," he might have observed
that Mr. Leye, the learned editor, had previously made use of “Olaus Wormius
“for the explanation of that name. Dr. Zachary Gray has also accounted for
the name in a note on Part 3, Canto i., verse 1314, of “Hudibras." [See
note 28.]
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Ploughing with Dogs. 113
Ploughing with Dogs.
[1795, Part I., p. 299.]
Famed as your Miscellany in general is for everything useful and agreeable, and
particularly for local and provincial terms, customs, and proverbs, I have
often wondered never to have met with therein this old comparative North
Country Proverb, “As bad as ploughing with dogs;" which evidently
originated from the farm-house; for, when ploughmen (through necessity) have
a new or awkward horse (sometimes more) taken into their team, by which they
are hindered and hampered, D n it, they will say, “This is as bad as
ploughing with dogs;" this is in the field; and also in the house, I have
seen a friendly dame, winding a ravelled skain of thread or yarn, exclaim
with a curse, “This is as bad as ploughing with dogs." And though
economy would not let her loose the skain till her patience was recovered,
she would apply herself to other domestic business. This proverb in the
country is so common, that it is applied to anything difficult or abstruse:
even at a rubber at whist, I have heard the minor party execrate the business
in these words, “This is as bad as ploughing with dogs:" give it up for
lost, change chairs, cut for partners, and begin a new game.
But, Mr. Urban, my present design is to explode this saying as obsolete,
having no more occasion “to use this proverb, no not in Israel."
For it requires only the same prudence to match and couple these creaturest
hat is requisite for horses, oxen, or other cattle, to be of the same breed
and size (and to match in colour will better please the eye): then they will
draw equal and well, and a word will be instead of whip and spur.
And though this creature's service may not be wanted for the plough, while we
have plenty of horses and oxen; yet, Mr. Urban, you must have observed them
drawing under carts to the market, and cheerfully exerting all their
strength, sweating with open mouths to help their owners home with their
meat; which, when it is once arrived there, they; will not suffer any thief
to purloin. I have sometimes seen two dogs yoked, one to each side of a
barrow, draw regular and well, similar to ploughing; their feet being tender,
to prevent their being footsore, they should have some sort of shoeing,
perhaps leather would be properest. A man who sells dog's meat, in St.
George's Fields, has a Newfoundland dog, which draws before the wheel of the
barrow (wheeled by the man) by two traces fastened to the head of it, who
knows all the customers, and, if they do not notice his arrival, will bark
till they come to the door. It is fabled, that when the Goddess Fidelity was
lost from among men, after long searching, she was found in a dog-kennel.*
* See Sir R. L'Estrange's/' Fables from the Italian of Boccace."
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In short, sir, so tractable is the dog kind, that we are likely soon to see
your little boys and girls, too small for riding ponies, taught to ride this
creature with saddle and bridle, under the care of a servant who may say with
Gay:*
“Our dog, the truest of his kind, With gratitude inflames my mind; I mark his
true, his faithful way, And in my service copy Tray."
Yours, etc., T. de B.
P.S. You see, sir, I have confined myself to the useful qualities of this
creature, and have not insisted on his politer ones of education, such as
dancing and orthography; the former they exhibit every day in the streets,
dressed “a la mode de pet-en-1'air “and “a la mode de militaire." But
they are likely to be outdone by the horses, which have begun to dance
minuets in public, and are now under tuition of a dancing-master for
cotillons and country-dances!
T. de B.
Running a Muck. [1768, //. 283, 284.]
We have an expression of doubtful and very obscure original; it is the phrase
“to run a muck." Mr. Johnson interprets it, “to run madly and attack all
we meet “and he cites the authority of Mr. Dryden. The question is, whence
the expression was borrowed, and what could give occasion to it? I remember a
gentleman who loved an etymology, observed that it probably came from
"running to Mecca" in one of those expensive and tedious
pilgrimages which the followers of Mohammed think themselves obliged once in
their lives to undertake, as prescribed in the Koran. And in confirmation of
this, he remarked, that to saunter, which is now a common English word, came
at first from Saincte Terre: the Croisees running in an idle manner, and to
the neglect of their affairs, under pretext of being engaged in expeditions
to the Holy Land. The etymology of saunter is undoubtedly probable, and may
be the truth; but if Mr. Johnson has given us the real sense of running a
muck, in his interpretation of the phrase, as I suppose he has, the
chargeable and expensive pilgrimages to Mecca do not seem to come up to it;
these imply only idleness and extravagance, which are not the ideas conveyed
by running a muck, since this rather means running a riot, and assaulting people's
persons with madness and fury, so as to endanger or take away their lives. I
am, therefore, of opinion that this expression came to us from the island of
Java, in the East Indies: Tavernier says certain Java lords,
* Introduction to his Fables.
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Running a Muck. 1 1 5
on a particular occasion “called the English traitors, and drawing their
poisoned daggers, cry'd a Mocca upon the English, killing a great number of
them before they had time to put themselves into a posture of defence."
Tavernier's "Voyages," [1678] ii., p. 202. Again, he tells us that
a Bantamois, newly come from Mecca, was upon the design of moqua; that is, in
their language, when the rascality of the Mahometans return from Mecca, they
presently take their axe in their hands, which is a kind of poniard, the
blade whereof is half poisoned, with which they run through the streets and
kill all those which are not of the Mahometan law, till they be killed
themselves." Ibidem, p. 199.
This seems to be an exact description of what we call running a muck,
according to Mr. Johnson's sense of it; and if the English did not bring the
expression from the island of Java, the Hollanders might, and so it might
come to us through their hands. Whereupon it may be pertinent to observe that
the term mohawk came in like manner from North America to England; by which
we mean both those ruffians who infested the streets of London in the same cruel
manner which the Mohawks, one of the six nations of Indians, might be
supposed to do, as likewise the instrument employed by them in their
assaults.
Yours, etc., T. Row.
P.S. As we know not the original of the word mocca or moqua, in the Javanese
language, it is possible it may come from Mecca, since, as you observe, this
town is mentioned along with it in the latter quotation above. But still it
will not allude to the pilgrimage to that place merely as a pilgrimage, for
this implies nothing of massacres and assassinations, but to the furious
enthusiasm of certain zealots after their return from thence. The word
assassin, that I may just mention it, is taken from the name of a people in
Asia, just as mohawk is in North America, so that there is nothing wonderful
in words coming from even the remotest countries; but the word assassin, I
may, perhaps, write you a line on a future occasion. [See post, p. 128.]
[i 770, pp. 564, 565.-]
One of your ingenious correspondents, who signs T. Row, some time ago,
attempted to give us an account of the origin of the word a muck, or the
phrase running a muck, but I have some reason to think he has not quite
reached the mark, though he comes near it. The word is Indian, as he
supposes, and is used particularly by the Malays, on the same occasion on
which we use it, though the particular meaning of it I do not know. The
inhabitants of the islands to the eastward of Bengal, such as Sumatra,
Borneo, Banco, and the coast of Malay, are very famous for cock-fighting, in
which they carry gaming to a much greater excess than the customs of Europe
82
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n6 Proverbial Phrases.
can admit. They stake first their property, and when by repeated losses all
their money and effects are gone, they stake their wives and children. If
fortune still frowns, so that nothing is left, the losing gamester begins to
chew, or eat what is called Bang, which I imagine to be the same as opium;
when it begins to operate he disfigures himself, and furnishes himself with
such weapons as he can get, the more deadly the fitter for his purpose, and
the effect of the opium increasing, as he intends it should, he at length
becomes mad: this madness is of the furious kind, and when it seizes him he
rushes forth, and kills whatever comes in his way, whether man or beast,
friend or foe, and commits every outrage which may be expected from a person
in such circumstances. This is what the Indians call amuck, or perhaps, as
Mr. Row says, a mecca, and when it happens the neighbours rise, and combining
together, hunt down and kill the wretched desperado, as they would any other
furious or destructive animal. Perhaps these particulars may excite some of
your correspondents who are skilled in the languages of this part of the
East, to give you still farther information on the subject.
I am, Sir, yours, etc, A. B.
The authority quoted from Dryden by Johnson
very much favours this account of our Oriental correspondent, and probably
gave T. Row the first hint of the word amuck being of Indian derivation, and
it is therefore a pity that he did not cite it:
“Frontless, and satire-proof he scours the streets, And runs an Indian muck
at all he meets."
Thus Johnson has printed it, but it may be questioned whether Indian is
intended as an adjective to muck, or whether the words an Indian are
parenthetical; in either case it is printed wrong: if Indian is an adjective
to muck, it should not have been printed with all capital letters; if not,
the word an as well as the word Indian should have been in the Roman
character, and there should have been a comma both at runs and Indian; thus:
"And runs, an Indian, muck at all he meets."
But in either case it shews that Dryden knew from what country the word was
derived. By our present correspondent's account it seems probable that amuck
means to do mischief frantickly. From the passage in Tavernier quoted by T.
Row it seems to mean simply to kill by a sudden onset. We shall be much
obliged to any of our distant or learned correspondents who will acquaint us
with the literal meaning of the word. [See note 28.]
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Sixes and Sevens. 117
Sixes and Sevens. [1781, /. 367.]
What is the origin of the phrase, “I found everything at sixes and sevens, as
the old woman left her house?" [See note 29.]
ADURFI.
Spick and Span.
[1755, /-ns-l
“Spick and span new “is an expression the meaning of which is obvious, though
the words want explanation, and which, I presume, are a corruption of the
Italian, “Spiccata de la spanna," snatched from the hand; “opus ablatum
inendo," or, according to another expression of our own, “fresh from the
mint;" in all which the same idea is conveyed by a different metaphor.
It is well known that our language abounds with Italicisms, and it is
probable the expression before us was coined when the English were as much
bigoted to Italian fashions, as they are now to those of the French. There is
another expression much used by the vulgar, wherein the sense and words are
equally obscure. The expression I mean is, An't please the pigs, in which
there is a peculiarity of dialect, a corruption of a word, and a common
figure, called a metonymy. In the first place, an in the Midland Counties is
used for {f; and pigs is most assuredly a corruption of Pyx a vessel in which
the host is kept in Roman Catholic countries. [See ante, p. 89.] In the last
place, the vessel is substituted for the host itself, by an easy metonymy, in
the same manner as when we speak of the sense of the house, we do not mean to
ascribe sense to bricks and stones, but to a certain number of representatives.
The expression means, therefore, no more than Deo volente, or, as it is
translated into modern English by coachmen and carriers, God willing. G. S.
[1790, Part IL, pp. 1194, 1195.]
The etymology of words and odd sayings is sometimes very entertaining: and as
that subject is started in your magazine, I wish it may be continued; and by
way of a specimen, let me tell you, Mr. Urban, my opinion of Spick and span
new. Says one antient Briton to another, “Is your spear new?" “No, it is
spike new;" that is, he had got a new spike to his old spand (handle or
haft). “Is yours new?" says another. "No; but is spand new."
"Is yours new?" "Yes, spick and spand new" Why do ladies
help every stranger at their table in England and in no other country? Because
no other country was so bountiful and generous as the English were, I will
not say are: the word lady is a corruption from two Saxon words; the lady of
the manor was called the Le-day [hlaf-dige], that is, the bread-giver, which
she served
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n8 Proverbial Phrases.
to the poor at the mansion house gate, and, knowing the number of children
each family contained, regulated her donations accordingly. [See/w/, p. 154.]
When, therefore, her opulent neighbours were at her table, “My Le-day"
said they, “be pleased to serve us with your own fair hands: shall the poor
at the gate receive an honour denied to us?" Had my lady refused, she would
have made them look blue, that is, change colour, as the angry turkey-cock
does, from red to blue: so they hum'd the lady to help them, as the milkmaid
does the cow when she will not give down her milk without a song. But
perhaps, Mr. Urban, you do not like to be both-eared or bothered with such
stuff; almost everybody has a favourite word, which they bolt out every
moment; that is not extraordinary, but many sensible people who have retired
have a saying (as a body may say}. I know a good old couple who never ask a
neighbour how they do without adding in it and of it: and if they were asked
the same question, they replied, "Pretty well in it and of it."
Nay, even that worthy and respectable man, whose name is so honourably
mentioned in your obituary of last month relative to Mr. Thicknesse, never
spoke without adding and ditto: nay, I have a letter of his before me, in
which he desires a dozen sheets of India paper may be sent him, and ditto;
yet he had as good a head as he had a heart; his neighbours loved him: nor
was he obliged to send his hounds into a neighbouring county because his
neighbours would not let him keep them nearer home. [See note 30.]
P. T.
Thief in a Candle.
[1809, Part I., p. 605.]
As the following common phenomenon is almost continually presenting itself to
observation during our social evenings in winter, I shall attempt, for the
amusement of the female part of your readers, a solution of the same. It is
well known that a small knot of cotton, or as it is more commonly called, a
thief, will occasion such an increased flux of the tallow, as to produce a
deep guttering in a burning candle; and it is not less certain that a slip of
paper, or any other substance of an oblong form, about four or five inches by
one, placed horizontally on the top of the candlestick, in an opposite
direction, will almost instantly arrest the progress of the said thief, and
prevent any subsequent effusion of the tallow. But, to form a more correct
idea of the cause, perhaps it may be necessary to remark, that the air, being
a fluid, will operate equally on every part of the candle, and that it no
sooner comes in contact with a more rarified air than the equilibrium is
destroyed, and a current ensues; hence it is that the thief, exciting a
greater absorption of the tallow to take place, the heat is increased on that
side of the candle; consequently the adjacent air becomes more rarified, and
recedes from the impulse of the heavier
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Topsy Turvy. 1 1 9
air, which rushes in from the opposite side to occupy the vacuum, and thereby
preserve the equilibrium; and thus the current is obtained, which will
continue in motion till the slip of paper, placed on the contrary side,
opposes its progress upwards, by preventing a greater admission of the
surrounding air than is sufficient to restore the equilibrium.
Yours, etc., WILLIAM HUMPHRIES.
Topsy-Turvy.
[1783, Part II., f. 928.]
When things are in confusion, they are said to be turned topsyturvy. I
apprehend this expression to be devised from the way in which turf cut for
fuel is placed to dry on its being cut; the surface of the ground is pared
off with the heath growing on it, and the heath is turned downward, and left
some days in that state, that the earth may get dry before it is carried
away. It means then top-side turfway. [See note 31.]
Trelawny “And shall Trelawny Die?"
[1827, Part II. , p. 409.]
Since any trifle, indicative of public feeling and of public sentiment at a
time so interesting as that of the Revolution, cannot fail of being thought
worth recording by many of your readers, I take the liberty of requesting
that the following communication may be inserted in the Gentleman! s
Magazine.
DAVIES GILBERT.
"AND SHALL TRELAWNY DIE?"
The strong sensation excited throughout England by that decisive act of
bigotry, tyranny, and imprudence, on the part of King James the Second, by
which he committed the seven Bishops* to the Tower, was in no district more
manifestly displayed than in Cornwall, notwithstanding the part taken by that
county in the Civil war. This was, probably, in a great degree occasioned by
sympathy with a most rerespected Cornish gentleman, then Bishop of Bristol,
as appears from the following song, which is said to have resounded in every
house, in every high-way, and in every street:
* The Seven Bishops were:
William Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury; consecrated 1678. William Lloyd,
Bishop of St. Asaph; consecrated 1680. Thomas Kenn, Bishop of Bath and Wells;
consecrated 1683. Francis Turner, Bishop of Ely; consecrated 1683. John Lake,
Bishop of Chichester; consecrated 1682. Thomas White, Bishop of Peterborough;
consecrated 1685. Sir Jonathan Trelawny, Bishop of Bristol; consecrated 1685;
translated to Exeter in 1689; to Winchester in 1707; died 1721.
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