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Which Dutch right-wing politician was assassinated in Holland on May 6th 2002? | Rightist politician's assassination stuns Netherlands - CSMonitor.com
Rightist politician's assassination stuns Netherlands
An animal-rights militant is suspected in the Monday shooting death of Pim Fortuyn.
By Mike Standaert, Special to The Christian Science Monitor
May 8, 2002
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AMSTERDAM — The mood in the Netherlands remains somber after the shooting death of Pim Fortuyn, a controversial right-wing politician running on an anti-immigrant platform for parliamentary elections next week.
In a country that views itself as peaceful and tolerant of diverging views, the assassination has triggered a state of shock. Dutch newspapers are comparing the killing Monday to the Kennedy assassination. The last political leader to be assassinated in the Netherlands was in the 16th century.
The openly homosexual, middle-aged Fortuyn used his charismatic style to focus attention on a simmering issue that many Dutch politicians had been reluctant to touch: immigration.
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Part of a rising tide of nationalist, anti-immigrant politics in several European nations, Fortuyn's party came out of nowhere to capture 17 of the 45 council seats in city elections in Rotterdam, the Netherlands' second city. He was expected to become a major force in the national parliament.
Photos of the Day Photos of the day 02/08
Strangely enough for a politician running on an anti-immigration platform, a recent poll in the leading Dutch newspaper De Volkskrant, focused on his popularity among immigrants. According to the survey, many immigrants approved Fortuyn's breaking of longstanding taboos in Dutch politics and his role as catalyst in opening discussion about underlying tensions between native Dutch residents and the immigrant population.
The article states that his popularity among those groups was for "putting the finger on the sour wounds, stimulating debate, and giving immigrants their own responsibility back as real citizens." Nearly 2 million people in this densely populated country of close to 16 million are ethnic minorities almost 800,000 of Muslim origin, mainly from Morocco and Turkey.
Many of Fortuyn's supporters claimed that they were behind him because he broke the silence that had been cast over Dutch politics for years on immigration and crime. They refused to categorize him as racist.
Even if they disagreed with the views of Fortuyn and his supporters, other politicians across the country had to pay attention.
"Just because part of the population may be right wing or racist doesn't mean the government can ignore their views," says Lousewies van der Laan, a leftist Dutch representative of the European Parliament.
Fortuyn, who had once been a Marxist, was one of the latest in a series of right-wing politicians who have shocked the left-leaning political elite of Europe though Fortuyn was also known for not wanting to be lumped into the crowd of right-wing European populists. Echoing the arguments of far-right politicians Jean-Marie Le Pen of France and Jörg Haider of Austria, he called for a halt to immigration. But he rejected further comparisons, saying he was not a racist and that he was pro-Israel.
In recent interviews Fortuyn said that Islam was a "backward" culture. He fulminated against Muslims who, he said, posed a threat to Dutch egalitarianism, reflected in such policies as full rights for women.
Last year, Fortuyn was kicked out of the leftist party Leefbaar Nederland (Liveable Netherlands) for criticizing a Rotterdam imam's remarks that "gays were worse than pigs."
Fortuyn had moved Liveable Netherlands to the right on a campaign of criticizing the government for uncontrolled immigration polices and excessive bureaucracy. After being booted, he formed his own party around his own name and went on to win 35 percent of the votes for city council in Rotterdam, a port city of blue-collar workers and newly arrived immigrants where one third of the population is made up of ethnic minorities.
Polls released Sunday showed the Lijst (Party of) Pim Fortuyn (LPF) likely to be a leader among the seven main parties in the upcoming national elections. Party members say they hope they can ride a wave of sympathy as well as the recognition Fortuyn gained in the last three months of campaigning.
LPF spokesman Mat Herben said after the shooting: "The government now has to stay calm and the democratic process must move forward." The LPF is searching for a new leader out of a relatively unknown crop of members of whom Fortuyn was the only nationally known name.
Dutch Prime Minister Wim Kok said yesterday that general elections would go ahead as planned on May 15.
Fortuyn, who did not travel with a bodyguard, had recently voiced fears for his safety after protesters threw cream pies laced with urine in his face. His lawyers are criticizing the government for failing to provide him protection. Fortuyn was shot by a lone gunman after giving a radio interview south of Amsterdam. A suspect now in custody is a militant animal-rights activist who may have taken issue with Fortuyn's proposal to revive fur farming, the Dutch national news agency (ANP) reported yesterday.
Material from Agence France-Presse was used in this report.
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| Pim Fortuyn |
What does the musical term 'Crescendo' mean? | Remembering Pim Fortuyn - DutchReview
Remembering Pim Fortuyn
Featured
The Netherlands has spent the last two days mindful of our history: by remembering the casualties of World War II on May 4th, Dodenherdenking, and by celebrating our freedom on May 5th, Bevrijdingsdag. But for a lot of people, May 6th is also a sacred day, as it marks the date on which the controversial Dutch politician Pim Fortuyn was assassinated, now thirteen years ago.
Pim Fortuyn (1948-2002). source
Who was Pim Fortuyn?
A former writer and professor of sociology at the Erasmus University of Rotterdam, Pim Fortuyn took the Dutch political scene by storm at the beginning of the new millennium. With his controversial ideas, strong debating skills, and his flamboyant style, Fortuyn divided the Dutch political sphere like few people did before him. He called for an ‘ideological fight’ against Islam, meaning that he wanted a debate about the ways in which Islamic culture is incompatible with our modern and liberal views. In his own words, there were parts of Islam which had no place in our society. Fortuyn would be heavily criticized for using the word achterlijk to describe these bad parts of Islam, the word meaning as much as ‘backwards’ or ‘retarded’.
Accused of racism, sexism, populism, or just any kind of -ism with a bad reputation, the controversy around Pim Fortuyn grew. During the presentation of his last book, protesters threw a cake filled with excrement and vomit in his face.
Pim Fortuyn’s assisination
What started with shit-filled pies and death threats ended in assassination. On May 6th 2002, just a few days before the elections, the ‘lone wolf’ Volkert van der Graaff shot Pim Fortuyn at point-blank range outside of the studios of Hilversum. In court, van der Graaff claimed that he saw need to kill Fortuyn for being a threat to Dutch society.
source
Beyond even the murder of a human being, many Dutch people saw the assassination of Pim Fortuyn as the murder of Dutch innocence and Dutch democracy. Before May 6th 2002, the idea of someone being murdered for his/her ideas was something alien to most Dutch people, something that happened in the past, or happens in other countries, but not here where we live. Priding itself as that one country where the prime minister rides his bike to work, a new feeling of vulnerability entered into the Dutch identity. Anger rose, and tensions grew between various ethnic and political groups.
Following the death of Fortuyn, his political party carried on, but soon fell out of favor. It seemed that without the spark of its charismatic and bold leader, neither its ideas nor its politicians could stick together. The party disbanded in 2008. Though we will never know how successful his political theories would have worked in practice, there can be no question that Pim Fortuyn was a unique politician who was not held back from speaking his mind by threats or insults.
If you can spare half an hour of time, you might want to watch the following video (Dutch). It is an interview of Pim Fortuyn, made by Theo van Gogh , who was himself murdered for his ideas two years later.
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Which organisation, based in Maidenhead, campaigns to save and restore unusual buildings threatened with demolition? | Heritage | Building Design
Building Design
Big names back Comyn Ching listing bid
28 April 2016
Jencks and Knight argue Farrell project should be viewed alongside Neues Museum and Venturi Scott Brown’s work
29 March 2016
Rare listing U-turn criticised by conservation specialists
No room for sheltered housing in the new look East London
9 February 2016
Gillian Darley says Sainsbury’s proposed Whitechapel development which towers over a grade I listed almshouse is a metaphor for the loss of East London’s traditional urban fabric
New row erupts over Johnson's decision to call in Norton Folgate
12 January 2016
Heritage group wants judicial review – but mayor says he acted properly and will make decision next Monday as planned
We must act fast to save Peter Foggo's legacy
16 December 2015
The late Arup Associates partner is an important figure for many reasons - not least the example he set of collaborative working, says Rab Bennetts. But modesty in life means his work is in danger of being overlooked just when it is most vulnerable
Terry Farrell fights to save 'one of our best' from 'sabotage'
16 November 2015
Architect submits his own building for listing as scaffolding goes up - and attempts to start national po-mo debate
You might as well knock down the London Eye as demolish Hyde Park Barracks
28 October 2015
Basil Spence should be celebrated for his efforts to give people access to ‘light, space, greenery’, says James Dunnett
Why Hyde Park Barracks deserves to be demolished
27 October 2015
The campaign to save Basil Spence’s lowering landmark ignores the building’s utter failure to engage with its urban context, argues Ike Ijeh
10 July 2015
‘Just because it’s old, tired and unpopular doesn’t make a good reason to demolish it’
City rejects plans to turn red phone boxes into food kiosks
10 July 2015
Plans to turn a number of Gilbert Scott’s iconic phone boxes into coffee and ice cream kiosks scuppered
I'm not convinced by plans for No1 Poultry, says its project architect
12 June 2015
As C20 Society tries to get Stirling’s icon listed, Andrew Pryke, who knows the building intimately, sounds a warning over Buckley Gray Yeoman’s redevelopment plans
Riddle over future of ‘vandal’ developer who knocked down pub
7 May 2015
Doubts over whether Carlton Tavern will be rebuilt after CLTX told by Companies House it will be dissolved this summer
Gallery: St Peter's Seminary, Cardross
6 May 2015
Let BD take you on a tour of the ruins of Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s 1966 grade A-listed masterpiece, now due to be rescued by arts charity NVA and Avanti Architects
Travels in Niemeyer country
5 May 2015
The work of the legendary Brazilian architect is loved by the people but is increasingly neglected by the authorities, write Nick Johnson and Lucy Wood in the first of an occasional series of dispatches from their motorbike tour of Latin America
Cruickshank invokes Churchill in British Land apology
30 April 2015
‘Nazi Germany was a militarist, racist, murderous dictatorship. British Land is, of course, none of these things’, says TV presenter
Barn conversions? Read the advice first
25 March 2015
New advice governing the process of barn conversions comes into force on April 1. Jeremy Lake, historic environment intelligence analyst at Historic England, the new name for English Heritage, explains what architects need to know
Top 10 Most Endangered Buildings
8 October 2014
The Victorian Society has named its Top 10 Most Endangered Victorian and Edwardian Buildings in England and Wales, following a national appeal for nominations. The society says all the buildings listed are at real risk of being lost if action is not taken in the immediate future
Southbank Centre wins £16m grant for conservation project
29 May 2014
Future of Feilden Clegg Bradley scheme remains uncertain but management ‘still working to fund wider Festival Wing scheme’
David Archer's inspiration: Steinhof church, Vienna
7 March 2014
David Archer finds modernity and tradition meet in Otto Wagner’s creation of a complete artistic environment for the Steinhof church in Vienna
The Edinburgh Centre for Carbon Innovation by Malcolm Fraser Architects
22 January 2014
Transformation of Edinburgh’s 18th century Old High School required a deft touch and awareness of the need to deliver a low carbon building
Stonehenge visitor centre by Denton Corker Marshall
18 December 2013
Stonehenge has stood for over 4,000 years but its lightweight new visitor centre is not expected to last 100. It’s a sorry outcome for which architect Denton Corker Marshall is not to blame
13 December 2013
Feilden Clegg Bradley’s new plans for the London arts complex: putting things right, or merely tweaking?
Stonehenge’s 21-year saga shows how little we care
12 December 2013
Architects appointed to the Palace of Westminster would do well to heed another heritage tale, says Amanda Baillieu
Kenwood restoration by English Heritage
11 December 2013
Robert Adam’s Kenwood has been restored to its original gilt-free glory at a cost of nearly £6 million, in a renovation that marks a new departure for English Heritage
Sheppard Robson facade designs revealed for apartment buildings in Barts Square
8 November 2013
Lead architect Sheppard Robson brought in Piercy & Co and Maccreanor Lavington to design elevations for three of the buildings
England's top ten at risk heritage sites
10 October 2013
Highlights from English Heritage’s annual “at risk” register chronicling Britain’s most endangered historical sites and buildings
If the price is Wright
16 September 2013
20 Frank Lloyd Wright homes are up for sale at the moment, but are they worth the pricetag?
Restoration is a question of time
30 August 2013
Gillian Darley hopes that Witherford Watson Mann’s design for Astley Castle for the Landmark Trust “signals that conjectural restoration has been consigned to the scrapheap” (Opinion August 16).
23 July 2013
Britain’s leading politicians, broadcasters and clergy members chose their favourites - but is yours on the list?
Southbank’s liner building is heading for an iceberg
4 July 2013
Cultural centre is relying on the revenue of more restaurants, but Amanda Baillieu asks at what cost to its integrity?
10 May 2013
The refurbishment of Paris’s Tour Bois-le-Prêtre shows us how it could be done, says Owen Hatherley
For the record
26 April 2013
Thirty years after Pevsner’s death, we look back to his remarkable effort to document England’s notable buildings
Williamstrip Bath house, Gloucestershire by Craig Hamilton Architects
23 January 2013
In the grounds of a 17th century house remodelled by Sir John Soane, Craig Hamilton has created a swimming pool indebted to early 20th century classicism.
19 November 2012
With public funding cuts and owners running out of cash, more and more buildings are under threat
Lasdun’s drawings find a global home
8 November 2012
Digitisation means the location of an architect’s archive is less important than the quality of its preservation
Architects to benefit from grade II at-risk register
17 October 2012
Architects can expect to see more projects on grade II-listed buildings, following English Heritage’s plans to add the category to its at-risk register for the first time.
Should the V&A alter its Aston Webb screen?
10 August 2012
Yes says V&A’s Moira Gemmill as the existing facilities can’t cope with increasing visitor numbers; but the Victorian Society’s Ian Dungavell argues butchering the Webb screen is unnecessary
Should the South Bank Centre be listed?
20 July 2012
Yes says Henrietta Billings, it is a versatile, intriguing architectural composition, no says Robert Adam, to survive it needs to be useful, robust and liked by the community- not just architects, art historians and their camp followers
Soane Museum refurbishment by Julian Harrap and Caruso St John
11 July 2012
The first phase of the restoration of the museum at Lincoln’s Inn Fields aims to bring three buildings as close to the original vision as possible
Liverpool set for heritage showdown
28 June 2012
Unesco’s objections to Liverpool Waters could see the city lose its world heritage status, says Mark Wilding
Astley Castle by Witherford Watson Mann
6 June 2012
Witherford Watson Mann’s new house within the ruined fragments of Astley Castle creates a physical and emotional connection between old and new
Kensington a right royal mess
1 June 2012
Last bank holiday (miserable and rainy) my wife and I decided to cheer ourselves up by visiting the newly refurbished Kensington Palace to check out quite how the £12 million had been spent (Buildings May 18).
Refurbish Elliott, don't demolish it
18 May 2012
While I agree entirely with Kate Macintosh in her description of buildings as a public embodiment of collective memory (Letters May 11), her “musings” have a wistful, elegiac tone of resignation which, at least in the case of Elliott School, I hope is premature.
11 May 2012
Feilden Clegg Bradley, David Chipperfield and HKR also among firms to reach next stage of funding bids
Demolition aims to erase the past
11 May 2012
The news of the threat both to John Bancroft’s listed school in Wandsworth and to the archives of the Women’s Library and the Trades Union Congress Collection in the not-so-safe-keeping of the London Met gives rise to ...
Will the Shard be listed in 30 years’ time?
12 April 2012
Yes, says Peter Murray, it demonstrates an innovative typology; while Ken Shuttleworth thinks it’s still too early to tell
VAT relief rule is unfair to owners
30 March 2012
The owner of any listed building faces increased costs and restrictions on alterations (“Listed buildings lose VAT relief” News March 23).
All is not lost for education
9 March 2012
Although there was a great deal of emphasis on heritage in the Henley Review of Cultural Education (Leader March 2), the built environment did get a look in and architecture centres even got a specific mention!
Academics favour modernist school trips
1 March 2012
Call for broader curriculum is response to education secretary Michael Gove’s list of 30 buildings pupils should see
8 December 2011
Avanti and ERZ in £10 million rescue bid for Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s St Peter’s Seminary
Should Battersea Power Station be demolished?
6 December 2011
Yes, says Giles Barrie, it would cost a fortune to rebuild; while Gavin Stamp says it is a great industrial monument
2 December 2011
Appeal launched in House of Lords hopes to raise enough money to start restoration work in 2012
Feilden Clegg Bradley wins Middleport pottery work
28 October 2011
Feilden Clegg Bradley has been appointed to restore the Middleport Pottery in Stoke-on-Trent for the Prince’s Regeneration Trust.
24 October 2011
Van Heyningen & Haward has completed a £2.4 million arts centre for young people in Islington, north London
Farrell sorting office plan to be revealed
21 October 2011
Islington and Camden councils will next week unveil details of plans drawn up by Terry Farrell & Partners to look at ways of revamping Mount Pleasant sorting office.
Industrial buildings face greatest risk, warns English Heritage
19 October 2011
England’s industrial buildings are some of the most at risk of all historic assets, according to the Heritage at Risk register published by English Heritage today.
RMJM to restore Gillespie Kidd & Coia church
7 October 2011
Paul Stallan Studio at RMJM has been appointed to lead a restoration project at the Gillespie Kidd & Coia-designed St Bride’s Church in East Kilbride, Scotland.
Go-ahead for Southend Pier
7 October 2011
White Arkitekter’s proposal for a cultural centre at the end of Southend Pier has secured planning permission.
British brutalism added to list of world's threatened monuments
6 October 2011
London’s Southbank Centre, Preston Bus Station and Birmingham Library have been added to a schedule of the world’s endangered cultural monuments.
5th Studio to revamp Norwich tower
5 October 2011
5th Studio has been appointed to redesign the 11-storey Westlegate building in Norwich, a 1960s tower in the city centre.
EH grant saves Yarmouth's historic theatre building
4 October 2011
The grade I listed St George’s Theatre in the heart of the Norfolk town of Great Yarmouth is to undergo urgent repairs thanks to a grant of £250,000 from English Heritage.
Trusts can solve listings threat
30 September 2011
One interesting solution to the reported threat to thousands of listed buildings (“New risk to listed buildings” News September 23) might be to start handing over ownership to community trusts.
Bennetts to design chapel for grade I listed school
29 September 2011
Bennetts Associates has won a competition to design a new chapel and music school in the grounds of the grade I listed Canford School in Dorset.
Cambridge architect wins St Paul's cathedral role
27 September 2011
Cambridge-based architect Oliver Caroe has been appointed surveyor to the fabric of St Paul’s Cathedral in London.
CZWG uses 'country house clause' to win planning for Kent scheme
27 September 2011
CZWG has secured planning permission for a house in the Kent countryside using the “country house clause” which allows isolated rural development of outstanding quality.
Sale halts Tower 42 competition
23 September 2011
A competition to modernise the base of Tower 42 in the City of London has been put on hold after the owners decided to sell the estate.
Ellis Williams completes Northampton school refurb
23 September 2011
Ellis Williams Architects has completed the £5.5 million refurbishment and upgrade of the grade II listed Kingsthorpe Grove Primary School in Northampton
Park Hill estate, Sheffield, by Hawkins Brown with Studio Egret West
14 September 2011
The apartments of the regenerated Park Hill are a world away from 1961’s socially conscious streets in the sky. Here, BD looks at how Sheffield’s iconic housing block has echoed 50 years of Britain shifting political moods
K4 Architects rethinks 30-storey Birmingham tower
8 September 2011
Plans for a 30-storey tower above a grade II-listed fire station in Birmingham are being revised after the scheme was panned by heritage and design experts.
Graham Morrison becomes English Heritage commissioner
31 August 2011
Architect Graham Morrison has been named by architecture minister John Penrose as one of five commissioners to join English Heritage this week.
Twentieth Century Society backs calls to list Banksy graffiti
23 August 2011
The Twentieth Century Society has thrown its weight behind calls for graffiti by street artist Banksy to be listed.
Mayor hopes to realise Florence vision
1 August 2011
The mayor of Florence wants to realise Michelangelo’s vision to complete the city’s San Lorenzo Basilica 500 years after it was scrapped because of the cost of importing marble.
Liverpool Waters could ‘bring drama’ to site
22 July 2011
The outgoing president of the Liverpool Architectural Society has defended the cluster of towers proposed in Chapman Taylor’s £5.5 billion Liverpool Waters scheme.
Is Liverpool Waters a threat to the city’s heritage?
22 July 2011
Yes, says Chris Costelloe, it would overwhelm the entire city centre; while Joe Anderson says 100 years ago the Liver Building similarly divided opinion
New Holland Island shortlist proposals revealed to the public
19 July 2011
Architecture Foundation curates public exhibition of MVRDV, Chipperfield, Studio 44 and WORKac designs at St Petersburg Naval Museum
Lobbyists lambast EH for heritage crisis ‘denial’
15 July 2011
Britain’s heritage is at risk of slipping into crisis because the system intended to protect it is so “dysfunctional”, it was claimed today.
Great Scott! A Gothic reputation is revived
8 July 2011
Next week sees the 200th anniversary of George Gilbert Scott’s birth and, with his masterpiece the Midland Grand Hotel at St Pancras restored, the architect is once more receiving the appreciation he deserves.
Multiple marble makeover for the Scotsman Steps
08 July 2011
A grotty flight of Victorian stairs leading to Waverley Station in the centre of Edinburgh has been transformed by Haworth Tompkins and the Turner Prize-winning artist Martin Creed.
Egyptian Halls face administration threat
6 July 2011
The company that owns part of the threatened Egyptian Halls in Glasgow has said it is facing administration because it is being chased for a £2 million loan.
Restored art gallery opens doors
17 June 2011
The Watts Gallery in the Surrey village of Compton reopens tomorrow after a £10 million restoration by ZMMA.
Redcar library listing report was ‘full of errors’
15 June 2011
The government chose not to list ABK’s Redcar Central Library after being directly influenced by a report riddled with errors, it was claimed this week
BDP and Preston got it right first time
10 June 2011
The bus station is the firm’s, and the town’s, best loved building. So why are they both building a mall in its place?
Proof of value of apprenticeship
10 June 2011
English Heritage recently produced a list of all the listed buildings in the country, from which BD highlighted the 10 architects with the greatest number of buildings included (bdonline May 23).
Shuttle cock
10 June 2011
On Monday night, Building for Life chairman Wayne Hemingway fronted an item on Newsnight, addressing the question of whether eighties buildings deserve listing.
William Hill reveals odds on Broadgate listing case
9 June 2011
The City of London’s landmark Broadgate complex is unlikely to be listed according to bookmaker William Hill
Unesco advisers set to reject Corbusier
3 June 2011
An advisory group to Unesco is expected to recommend that more than a dozen buildings by Le Corbusier are turned down for World Heritage status.
Donations flood in for threatened music hall
3 June 2011
A last-ditch attempt to save the world’s oldest surviving music hall from collapse has netted more than £170,000 in a week after the Heritage Lottery Fund turned down its grant application
31 May 2011
’Conjectural image’ of how the Ealing building looked in the early 1800s is part of summer exhibition
EH in talks over Broadgate listing
27 May 2011
English Heritage this week undertook final talks on whether to recommend the Peter Foggo-designed buildings at Broadgate for listing.
Passing the Broadgate listing parcel
27 May 2011
Things are getting complicated down at the DCMS, where a decision must be made over whether to list Broadgate.
English Heritage launches online database of historic assets
24 May 2011
English Heritage has launched an online database of the country’s heritage assets to promote better understanding and protection of the historic environment
English Heritage reveals George Gilbert Scott is most listed architect
23 May 2011
The architect responsible for designing the greatest number of listed buildings in England has been revealed as George Gilbert Scott
Council postpones ruling over Make plans for Edinburgh cinema
20 May 2011
Plans to demolish a category B listed cinema in Edinburgh to make way for a Make-designed arts hotel have been given a last minute reprieve after the city’s planning committee postponed its decision.
Work starts on Bond Bryan hotel school
17 May 2011
Work on the UK’s first hotel school for hospitality students, designed by Bond Bryan Architects, has begun at the University of Essex in Colchester
Purcell Miller Tritton reveals plans for Wentworth Woodhouse restoration
17 May 2011
Purcell Miller Tritton has drawn up plans for the restoration of Wentworth Woodhouse near Rotherham in South Yorkshire.
Glasgow masterpiece under threat
12 May 2011
The owner of Alexander ’Greek’ Thomson’s Egyptian Halls says he has no option but demolition. James Benedict Brown reports
Tony Meadows' 10-year wait ends as Borough Market viaduct installed
11 May 2011
The most visible section of the Borough Viaduct has been lowered into place a decade after it was designed by Tony Meadows Associates
Architect bids to protect Bristol's Kings Weston House
11 May 2011
An architect has formed a community group to try and protect the grade I listed building and find its missing statue
Cardross Seminary set to be saved after being bought by arts charity
10 May 2011
Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s St Peter’s Seminary at Cardross near Glasgow could be saved after public arts charity NVA purchased the property from the Archdiocese of Glasgow.
St Pancras Renaissance London Hotel by RHWL and Richard Griffiths
4 May 2011
The painstaking restoration of St Pancras station’s neo-Gothic Midland Grand Hotel by architects RHWL and Richard Griffiths honours George Gilbert Scott’s original vision, despite some disappointing fit-out choices.
Local architect sticks up for condemned Norwich office block
3 May 2011
An RIBA Award-winning Norwich architect has leapt to the defence of a condemned 1960s office block dubbed the city’s ugliest building.
Spab announces this year's Lethaby Scholars
28 April 2011
The Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (Spab) has announced two architects and an engineer as this year’s Lethaby Scholars – a scheme that provides six months of conservation training.
Save holds up Pathfinder demolition in Liverpool
19 April 2011
Save Britain’s Heritage has scored a major victory in its campaign to keep the Pathfinder bulldozers out of Liverpool after communities secretary Eric Pickles issued a stop notice
Festival of Britain images published for first time
19 April 2011
Archive pictures of the Festival of Britain have been published for the first time, to coincide with the event’s 60th anniversary.
Broadgate plans only attract two objections
15 April 2011
Just two people have objected to Make’s proposal for a huge new banking headquarters in London’s Broadgate, paving the way for the scheme to win planning permission.
Campaigners hail engineer's report as proof Victorian terraces should be saved
13 April 2011
Save Britain’s Heritage has issued an 11th-hour appeal to Liverpool Council to reject plans to bulldoze hundreds of Victorian houses, including Ringo Starr’s birthplace.
Make's Broadgate scheme up for approval
12 April 2011
The City of London’s planning officers have paved the way for the approval of Make’s proposals for British Land to build a new headquarters for Swiss bank UBS.
Appeal over Redcar library ruling
11 April 2011
The Twentieth Century Society says it will appeal against the decision not to list ABK’s Redcar Central Library.
English Heritage weighs up wider Broadgate listings
7 April 2011
English Heritage is considering listing all of the early phases of London’s Broadgate, not just the area under threat of demolition.
Syria unrest hits museum scheme
4 April 2011
The uprisings spreading across north Africa and the Middle East have led to the postponement of a conference to discuss the future of museums and heritage sites in Syria.
Toronto backs Rogers' city market scheme
4 April 2011
The City of Toronto has confirmed funding for the redevelopment of St Lawrence Market to designs by Rogers Stirk Harbour and local architect Adamson Associates.
Cardigan Castle wins lottery cash
1 April 2011
Purcell Miller Tritton’s scheme to build a new heritage centre and carry out repairs at Cardigan Castle is one of the beneficiaries of £10 million handed out by the Heritage Lottery Fund to help three major restoration and education projects linked to the arts in England and Wales.
Listing hopes dashed for Redcar Library
31 March 2011
Architecture minister John Penrose has ignored advice from English Heritage and refused listing for ABK’s Redcar Central Library paving the way for the 1970s building to be torn down.
Record number of entries for Save's Buildings at Risk register
31 March 2011
Conservationists and volunteers have uncovered a record number of buildings around the country that are seriously threatened by neglect.
Lottery Fund awards for Fobert, Harrap and Purcell Miller Tritton
28 March 2011
Jamie Fobert, Julian Harrap and Purcell Miller Tritton were celebrating today after the Heritage Lottery Fund awarded £10 million to projects of theirs.
Mecanoo’s library is disgraceful, says Madin
25 March 2011
The architect behind the doomed 1970s Birmingham library has attacked Mecanoo’s replacement scheme which has condemned it to the wrecking ball.
Spence & Webster Belsize bungalows saved by planners
25 March 2011
A pair of rare 1970s bungalows by architects Robin Spence and Robin Webster have been saved after a north London council turned down plans to redevelop the site.
HOK restores Kama Sutra translator's mausoleum
24 March 2011
HOK has completed the restoration of the grade II* listed mausoleum of Richard Burton, the Victorian explorer and adventurer who translated the Kama Sutra.
Cheltenham Art Gallery extension to start on site after lottery grant
24 March 2011
Berman Guedes Stretton has been given the green light for its £6.3 million extension to Cheltenham Art Gallery & Museum after the Heritage Lottery Fund awarded the project crucial funds.
28 February 2011
Brighton practice Quixotic Architecture has won planning permission to renovate a medieval tower on a Croatian island.
Victorian hospital saved from demolition
28 February 2011
The Victorian Society has welcomed news that the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Brighton has been saved from demolition.
Adam defends Athlone House designs
24 February 2011
Robert Adam has defended his designs for a £20 million neo-classical mansion in Hampstead against stinging attack from critics who described them as “inept”.
Fretton mansion plans anger locals
24 February 2011
Tony Fretton has drawn up plans to remodel a London mansion, complete with a vast subterranean complex beneath the one of the capital’s most expensive streets.
London’s first skyscraper has its listing upgraded
13 January 2011
London’s first skyscraper has had its protection upgraded from grade II to grade I in recognition of its “outstanding architectural interest”.
Balfron Tower’s human face
13 January 2011
East London’s Balfron Tower has become the setting for a photo shoot designed to show the connection between the building and its residents.
Victorian Society lobbies to save Edgbaston houses
13 January 2011
A row of six Victorian and Edwardian houses in Edgbaston is under threat as part of plans to build a retirement village.
Blow for Catford prefab campaigners
6 January 2011
The Twentieth Century Society has pledged to fight a decision to demolish one of the UK’s largest surviving post-war prefab housing estates, in south-east London.
SAVE puts localism to the test in Toxteth
22 December 2010
Localism faces its first real test as Pickles is asked to stop Pathfinder bulldozers from razing Ringo Starr’s childhood neighbourhood
Award for firm that rescued town's industrial heritage
20 December 2010
Potter & Holmes Architects’ transformation of a dilapidated electricity sub-station that once helped power the London tram network has won a local townscape award.
Broadgate designer slams Make's replacement
17 December 2010
Make’s plans for the redevelopment of part of the City’s Broadgate site have been attacked by those responsible for the buildings it will replace
Pringle Richards Sharratt wins planning for William Morris extension
11 November 2010
Pringle Richards Sharratt Architects has won planning consent for a £3.75m extension to the UK’s only gallery dedicated to the work of William Morris.
New hope for Cardross Seminary as charity plans competition
10 November 2010
Arts charity NVA wants to hold a design competition to revive the crumbling St Peter’s Seminary in Scotland after alternative plans to turn it into housing stalled.
Victorian Society bid to save hospital from Meadowcroft Griffin scheme
9 November 2010
The Victorian Society has condemned plans to build offices over the site of one of London’s foundling hospitals.
Maida Vale tube station wins heritage plaudit
26 October 2010
The modernisation of Maida Vale tube station in north-west London has been recognised with a National Railway Heritage Award plaque.
Heritage experts protest at savage EH cuts
21 October 2010
Heritage experts have slammed the government’s decision to slash the resources of its statutory advisor English Heritage by a third.
11 October 2010
The Victorian Society has published a list of the 10 most threatened buildings in England and Wales.
Foster joins protest against adverts on Venice's historic buildings
5 October 2010
Norman Foster has added his voice to an angry protest to the Italian government over the use of giant billboards on Venice’s historic buildings.
Consolation for Chipperfield as Neues wins RIBA conservation prize
4 October 2010
David Chipperfield and Julian Harrap’s Neues Museum project has won the Crown Estate Conservation Award, one a number of prizes announced during the Stirling Prize awards ceremony on Saturday.
Plaudits for EH's ‘at risk’ campaign
1 October 2010
English Heritage’s Buildings at Risk register has helped save 2,000 historic buildings in London over the last two decades, the charity said today
Strawberry Hill, Twickenham, restored by Inskip & Jenkins
1 October 2010
The £8.9 million restoration of Horace Walpole’s 18th century ’gothic castle’, emphasises its original owner’s distinctive tastes
Hadid speaks up for South Bank Centre
24 September 2010
Zaha Hadid has criticised as “unbelievable” the government’s decision not to list the South Bank Centre, insisting the 1960s complex deserved statutory protection
RIAS alarm at Scottish National Trust report
1 September 2010
The Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland has written to the National Trust for Scotland asking for an urgent meeting about the future of the historic properties it manages.
Nicol Thomas faces Birmingham heritage battle
1 September 2010
Conservationists are fighting to stop Nicol Thomas Architects from building a £40 million retirement village in Birmingham because it would destroy a row of fine Victorian and Edwardian villas.
English Heritage demands action on Finsbury Health Centre
11 August 2010
EH has told the owner of Lubetkin’s crumbling Finsbury Health Centre to carry out vital repairs – or risk being ordered to do so by the local council.
Penrose lists two 1960s housing estates in Camden
10 August 2010
Architecture and heritage minister John Penrose has announced a series of controversial listing decisions including final rulings on Colin St John Wilson’s Hereford House and two housing estates by Benson & Forsyth.
EH report boosts listing bid for War Graves HQ
9 August 2010
The campaign to have Fitzroy Robinson & Partners’ Commonwealth War Graves Commission headquarters listed has received a boost following a positive report by English Heritage, claim campaigners.
No 1 Smithery, Chatham Dockyard, by van Heyningen & Haward
30 July 2010
Van Heyningen & Haward’s scheme provides an elegant environment for the presentation of a fine collection of ships’ models
EH warns of more buildings at risk
9 July 2010
Town hall cuts could cause “catastrophic losses” to the nation’s historic buildings, the chief executive of English Heritage has warned.
Purcell Miller Tritton completes Carlton Club dining room refurb
5 July 2010
Purcell Miller Tritton has completed the latest stage of its restoration work at the Carlton Club in London’s St James’s Street.
Fireplace firm claims EH abused its position
25 June 2010
English Heritage is facing scrutiny from Britain’s new coalition government over claims of a conflict of interest which allegedly saw it “abuse” its planning powers in favour of a commercial partner.
DCMS blunder over major post-war listing
18 June 2010
The biggest post-war listing decision for a decade was made by a junior official in the DCMS last week and never ratified by the architecture minister, BD can reveal.
18 June 2010
David Chipperfield Architects’ Neues Museum has been awarded the Grand Prix of the European Heritage Awards 2010.
Granary revamp gets under way
10 June 2010
Work has begun on Pollard Thomas Edwards Architects’ £3.5 million restoration and extension of a derelict 19th century granary building in east London.
High Court rejects Save's Lancaster brewery test case
20 May 2010
An attempt by Save Britain’s Heritage to set a legal precedent protecting period buildings from demolition has been thrown out by the High Court
Avanti Architects’ Sheffield library restoration speaks volumes
BD Reviews Refurbishment April 2010
Avanti Architects’ sensitive restoration of Gollins Melvin Ward’s Western Bank Library at Sheffield University reveals a Miesian masterpiece hidden by years of neglect
Liverpool museum pays out over view
25 February 2010
The publicly funded client behind the new Museum of Liverpool has ended up paying out a £750,000 penalty after discovering the building spoils the view from one of the city’s famous Three Graces.
Hodge lists Abbey Road Studios at grade II
23 February 2010
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge today spot-listed the world-famous Abbey Road Studios at grade II in response to a public outcry about its possible sale.
Hodge rejects EH's advice to list Slough town hall
23 February 2010
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has rejected English Heritage advice on Twentieth Century buildings again and refused to list Slough’s 1937 town hall.
Sheppard Robson to revamp listed Thames foot tunnels
16 February 2010
Sheppard Robson has unveiled £11.5 million plans to refurbish two listed foot tunnels which run beneath the River Thames.
National Trust restores power to the people
11 February 2010
The National Trust has launched a strategy to counter the perception that it is “some sort of exclusive club for connoisseurs”.
Government pledges £3m to complete Cutty Sark restoration
5 February 2010
The restoration of historic clipper the Cutty Sark has been secured after the Department of Culture Media & Sport announced this week it would commit £3 million to the project.
Hackney to demolish Foundry to make way for Squire & Partners' Art'otel
4 February 2010
The Foundry, a popular arts centre and bar in Shoreditch, east London, is to be demolished after Hackney Council granted planning permission last night to a controversial hotel building designed by Squire & Partners.
Savoy Hotel refurbishment nears completion
1 February 2010
The £100 million project to restore London’s Savoy Hotel will be completed this summer, more than a year behind schedule, it has been announced.
Historic cinemas at risk claim campaigners
1 February 2010
Dozens of Britain’s 1930s cinemas face demolition as investors eye them up as ripe for development, campaigners fear.
Culture secretary rejects EH advice to list Preston bus station
28 January 2010
Culture secretary Ben Bradshaw has rejected English Heritage’s recommendation to list Preston Central Bus Station and car park.
28 January 2010
The Prince of Wales has become the new patron of heritage group the Historic Towns Forum (HTF).
Simpson's Kensington Palace plans to be redrawn
27 January 2010
John Simpson has been sent back to the drawing board to redesign a controversial extension to Kensington Palace.
Tear down 60s and 70s buildings, says government adviser
26 January 2010
The government’s new chief construction adviser has said buildings put up in the sixties and seventies should be torn down because it would be impossible to refurbish them to a sufficient standard laid down by green targets.
British Museum extension avoids call in
13 January 2010
Communities secretary John Denham has refused to call in the £135 million plan by Rogers Stirk Harbour to extend the British Museum in central London.
Rogers' British Museum extension gets planning
18 December 2009
Work on Rogers Stirk Harbour’s £135 million British Museum extension is set to begin next month after the controversial scheme was approved last night by Camden Council.
Baroque treasure Seaton Delaval saved for nation
17 December 2009
The grade I listed Seaton Delaval Hall in Northumberland has been saved for the nation, following a fundraising campaign, supported by some of the leading lights of British architecture.
New chair for ancient buildings society
16 December 2009
English Heritage’s former chief conservation architect, David Heath, has been named as the new chairman of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings.
Hodge refuses to list Birmingham Central Library
23 November 2009
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has rejected the advice of English Heritage and an appeal in BD by architect John Madin to list his 1970s Birmingham Central Library.
Tony Fretton shows the art of merger
20 November 2009
Tony Fretton’s bringing together of two buildings into a home and studio was just the beginning of a work in progress for artist Brad Lochore
Haworth Tompkins reveal details of National Theatre revamp
18 November 2009
Haworth Tompkins has revealed early details of its masterplan for the renovation and extension of Denys Lasdun’s Grade II* listed National Theatre building on London’s South Bank.
Heritage bodies attack new planning proposals
4 November 2009
The Royal Town Planning Institute has savaged the government’s PPS15 heritage proposals as a serious risk to the nation’s historic buildings and places.
Foster's Bishops Place tries again for planning
29 October 2009
Norman Foster’s controversial Bishops Place scheme in the East End of London has moved a step forward.
Victorian Society highlights at risk buildings
21 October 2009
The top 10 most endangered Victorian and Edwardian buildings in England and Wales have been named by The Victorian Society.
Dudley Zoo on World Monuments Fund's watchlist
12 October 2009
Dudley Zoological Gardens, designed by Berthold Lubetkin and Tecton, has been placed on the World Monuments Fund’s 2010 watchlist alongside Machu Picchu in Peru and Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia.
Heritage groups welcome Tory lottery pledge
30 September 2009
Conservation groups have welcomed a pledge from the Conservatives to channel an extra £40 million of lottery money directly into built environment heritage projects.
Robert Adam to renovate London's largest house for Russia's richest woman
28 September 2009
The Witanhurst mansion in north London, the capital’s largest private residence, is to be extended under an extravagant scheme by Robert Adam.
Outline planning granted for new US embassy in Battersea
17 September 2009
Wandsworth council last night granted outline planning permission for the controversial new US embassy at Nine Elms, Battersea.
Buried pavilion plan for British Museum
17 September 2009
More than a fifth of Rogers Stirk Harbour & Partners’ rejected British Museum extension could be buried underground in a renewed bid to get it past planners.
No EH advice as council rules on OMA institute plan
16 September 2009
Kensington & Chelsea Council will be forced to rule on the future of OMA’s controversial scheme to revamp the former Commonwealth Institute without the benefit of key advice from English Heritage.
Royal support for campaign to buy Seaton Delaval
14 September 2009
Prince Charles has thrown his weight behind the National Trust’s campaign to buy one of John Vanbrugh’s most renowned buildings, Seaton Delaval in Northumberland.
Tim Ronalds to revamp east London Turkish baths
4 September 2009
Tim Ronalds Architects has won the competition to carry out a £15 million refurbishment at one of London’s oldest Turkish baths.
Rethink for OMA's Commonwealth Institute revamp
19 August 2009
OMA's controversial designs to revamp the former Commonwealth Institute have been substantially overhauled in response to criticism from English Heritage, Kensington & Chelsea council and local residents.
Purcell Miller Tritton’s Martime Museum extension has go-ahead
22 July 2009
Purcell Miller Tritton has secured planning permission and listed building consent for a new £35 million wing at London’s National Maritime Museum in Greenwich.
Landscape Institute management survive no confidence vote
22 July 2009
A vote of no confidence in senior managers at the Landscape Institute has been lost by a margin of more to two to one.
Purcell Miller Tritton in the running for Bath Abbey redevelopment
22 July 2009
Purcell Miller Tritton is one of six firms in the running for a major redevelopment of the grade I listed Bath Abbey.
27 May 2009
A public inquiry into Richard Murphy’s proposed 19-storey £200 million hotel in Haymarket, Edinburgh, has begun.
Heritage groups dismayed at Koolhaas's Commonwealth Institute proposal
29 April 2009
Battle lines have been drawn over the future of London’s Commonwealth Institute after plans for a radical redevelopment of the grade II* listed building were submitted by Rem Koolhaas and fellow Dutch architect West 8.
Architecture minister lists 19 historic military buildings
17 April 2009
Nearly 50 military buildings dating from the Napoleonic War to the first world war have been listed or given added protection by architecture minister Barbara Follett.
Heritage outcry over Make’s Spurs stadium
9 April 2009
Heritage groups have slammed plans to demolish a set of historic buildings on the site of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’s new north London stadium, following the unveiling of designs by Make Architects, KSS Group and Martha Schwartz Partners last week.
RIBA told conservation architecture accreditation scheme 'unwise'
6 April 2009
Heritage bodies have warned RIBA it will cause confusion by setting up its own accreditation system for conservation architects in direct competition with the existing Architects Accredited in Building Conservation Register (AABC).
Brace of Oxbridge modernists listed
3 April 2009
Modernist university buildings in Cambridge and Oxford by James Stirling and Powell & Moya have been listed, to the delight of heritage groups
Should the RIBA introduce a register for conservation architects?
03 April 2009
Yes, says Purcell Miller Tritton’s Jeremy Blake, because architects need professional benchmarks as much as any other group; no, says Stirling Prize winner Stephen Hodder, we need communities of knowledge, not individual registrations
27 March 2009
Take a virtual tour as Ellis Woodman talks to the architects behind the new Whitechapel Gallery extension
Listing recognition for West Country architect Mervyn Seal
18 March 2009
A 1960s cliff-top house in Devon inspired by the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and Le Corbusier has been listed.
Developer blasts EH’s move to list barracks chapel
13 March 2009
The developer behind Rogers Stirk Harbour & Partners’ Chelsea Barracks scheme in west London has launched an all-out attack on English Heritage’s attempt to list a Victorian chapel at the centre of the site
Has English Heritage failed to protect Robin Hood Gardens?
13 March 2009
Yes, says Dan Cruickshank, it has utterly failed to realise the estate’s worth and potential; while EH’s Steve Bee says not recommending it for listing doesn’t mean it should be lost
Lubetkin’s Finsbury Health Centre — the ideal that time forgot
BD Magazine - Healthcare - March 2009
Berthold Lubetkin’s Finsbury Health Centre was opened in 1938 with his assertion that “nothing was too good for ordinary people.” It was a pivotal moment in British social history that led to the development of the NHS. But now both the building and Lubetkin’s beliefs are under threat
Dan Cruickshank attacks Tower Hamlets and English Heritage over Robin Hood Gardens
9 March 2009
Architectural historian and TV personality Dan Cruickshank has given the east London council and heritage body a drubbing over the Smithson’s estate.
Dan Cruickshank attacks English Heritage over Robin Hood Gardens (video)
06 March 2009
Architectural historian and TV personality Dan Cruickshank has given the east London council and heritage body a drubbing over the Smithson’s estate
English Heritage faces critics at Robin Hood Gardens debate (audio)
5 March 2009
At a debate on Robin Hood Gardens at Ecobuild yesterday English Heritage was outnumbered four-to-one by those in favour of listing the estate.
20th Century Society seeks more power on delisting
2 March 2009
The 20th Century Society is seeking more influence on delisting decisions after Colin St John Wilson’s Hereford House was controversially stripped of its grade II status.
Chipperfield's Berlin Neues Museum (video)
27 February 2009
Work has completed on David Chipperfield Architects’ dramatic remodelling of the Neues Museum. Take a sneak peak at the renovation work
Lubetkin’s grade I listed Finsbury Health Centre to be sold off to private sector
30 January 2009
Berthold Lubetkin’s grade I listed Finsbury Health Centre in Clerkenwell, north London, is set to be sold into private hands after NHS officials this morning rejected a last-ditch effort by Architects for Health to preserve the building’s 70-year association with public healthcare.
Is it all over for Robin Hood Gardens housing estate?
23 January 2009
Yes, residents are in touching distance of having the new homes they want, says council leader Lutfur Rahman; while Alan Powers argues that refurbishment would be a win-win outcome
Traditionalists who do modern
05 December 2008
Andrés Duany, he of the Congress for New Urbanism, rocks up in the UK to tell us where modernism went wrong just as the Saudis sit down with Norman and Zaha to discuss the remodelling of central Mecca
Cross party condemnation as Heritage Protection Bill dropped
3 December 2008
MPs from all three main parties have criticised the government's axing of the Heritage Protection Bill from next year’s parliamentary programme, amid claims historic buildings are being put at risk.
Seven Thames bridges listed
28 November 2008
Culture secretary Andy Burnham this week announced the listing of seven bridges across the River Thames on the advice of English Heritage.
Tories decry likely axing of heritage bill
21 November 2008
Shadow culture secretary Jeremy Hunt has laid into the government’s policy on heritage following BD’s report that the bill was likely to be dropped from next month’s Queen’s Speech.
Upset at Follett delisting
21 November 2008
Architecture minister Barbara Follett has delisted a London building by Colin St John Wilson, against English Heritage advice.
Eric Parry’s St Martin-in-the-Fields makeover
07 November 2008
Eric Parry Architects’ refurbishment and reconfiguration of Trafalgar Square’s St Martin-in-the-Fields church demonstrates an impressive singularity of vision.
Government may drop heritage bill to tackle credit crunch
4 November 2008
The heritage protection bill may be axed from next year’s parliamentary programme to make way for legislation to help beat the credit crunch, culture minister Andy Burnham has signalled.
Historic Berlin airport closes
3 November 2008
The last planes have taken off from Berlin’s Tempelhof airport, after a referendum to save the airport failed to attract enough support.
Heritage bill rethink after costs disputed
31 October 2008
The cost of implementing the heritage protection bill is likely to be far more than estimated, the government has admitted.
EH’s Heritage Counts report calls for ‘recycling’ of older buildings to cut CO2 emissions
30 October 2008
English Heritage today called on the government to recycle and adapt older buildings to help meet carbon reduction targets.
Eric Parry Architects completes £36m restoration of St Martin-in-the-Field
BD Mag - Refurbishment - October 08
Eric Parry Architects this month finally completes its £36 million refurbishment of St Martin-in-the-Fields at Trafalgar Square, London, some six and a half years after winning the commission.
Hût Architecture’s slice of white
BD Mag - Refurbishment - October 08
Hût has refurbished two central London townhouses in typically eclectic style for film company White House Post Production, reports Jessica Cargill Thomson. Photos by Kilian O’Sullivan
EH lists its top 20 heritage projects
10 October 2008
Liverpool’s Bluecoat arts centre, King’s Cross Central in London and Sheffield’s Park Hill have been named in an English Heritage list of England’s 20 best conservation-led developments.
Celebrating the best of Scotland’s architectural heritage
12 September 2008
To mark the opening of the Scottish Pavilion, BD goes in search of the buildings and structures that epitomise the country and its people
Listing threat to Chelsea Barracks development
12 September 2008
English Heritage has dealt a new blow to Rogers Stirk Harbour’s controversial Chelsea Barracks scheme by recommending a Victorian chapel on the site be listed at grade II.
Walker church listed
12 September 2008
A modernist church designed by Derek Walker — the former chief architect of Milton Keynes — has become the first 20th century building to be listed this year.
Natural History Museum unveils images of CF Møller’s extension
2 September 2008
The Natural History Museum has released the first pictures of the second phase of its state-of-the-art Darwin Centre, a scientific research and collections facility designed by Scandinavian architect C F Møller.
Should Saarinen’s American Embassy building be listed?
29 August 2008
Yes, says Docomomo’s Dennis Sharp, it’s well scaled and well weathered; no, says Westminster’s Robert Davis, it’s a mess inside, mediocre on the outside, and not historically important
Hodge grants Sherborne’s Shell House grade I listing
15 August 2008
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has listed the Shell House in Sherborne, Dorset, at grade I, labelling it a “great example of British craftsmanship at its best”.
Techniker gets to grips with Jean Prouvé’s historic prefab house
15 August 2008
The solution for protecting Prouvé’s antique prefab on its travels to the hurricane-prone southern US involves stripping it to its structural core
Hodge criticised over heritage bill
01 August 2008
Culture minister Margaret Hodge has been slated by MPs over the draft heritage protection bill, which they claim will cost far more to implement than claimed and is badly undermined by a lack of local authority skills.
Long live Lubetkin’s republic
25 July 2008
Tecton’s Spa Green Estate, a legacy of 1930s radical housing policy in north London, has been sensitively restored to pay homage to its original ambitions, reports James R Payne
Birmingham leader begs Hodge not to list library
21 July 2008
Birmingham City Council leader Mike Whitby has pleaded with architecture minister Margaret Hodge to grant the city’s Central Library immunity from listing in an extraordinary 4,500-word letter.
Heritage fund awards £23m as budget slashed
04 July 2008
The Heritage Lottery Fund has pledged £23 million for threatened buildings, including £7 million for a grade II* listed church in Bolton and a Welsh Georgian town house.
EH proposes grade II listing for BBC Television Centre
2 July 2008
English Heritage has advised culture minister Andy Burnham to list parts of the BBC Television Centre at White City in London at grade II.
English Heritage looks to public in latest round of Stonehenge visitor centre saga
1 July 2008
English Heritage is to launch a public consultation to find a new site for its long-planned Stonehenge visitor centre.
Heritage Fund pledges £23m for threatened buildings
27 June 2008
The Heritage Lottery Fund on Friday pledged £23 million for scores of threatened buildings, including £7 million for a grade II* listed church in Bolton and Georgian town house in Llanelli in Wales.
Council anger as EH asks for Birmingham library listing
27 June 2008
Birmingham Council has harshly criticised the city’s central library after English Heritage recommended the 1973 building be grade II listed.
Aqueduct heritage status nearer
30 May 2008
The grade I listed Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and Llangollen Canal (pictured) in north-east Wales has moved a step closer to being shortlisted for Unesco world heritage site status.
Ex heritage minister calls for RHG listing
23 May 2008
Margaret Hodge must reject advice from English Heritage and grant Robin Hood Gardens the grade II listing it deserves, MPs and former Labour heritage minister Alan Howarth have demanded.
English Heritage defends its failure to back Robin Hood Gardens
16 May 2008
EH chair says estate 'fails as a place for human beings to live'. Read the statement; watch the video
Wright & Wright's Cambridge University Corpus Christi College Campus
16 May 2008
When Cambridge University’s Corpus Christi College ran out of undergraduate library space, it engaged Wright & Wright to remodel a former bank it owns on one of the city’s main streets as the Taylor Library, reports Ellis Woodman. Photos by Peter Cook and Dennis Gilbert
English Heritage fails to back Robin Hood Gardens
8 May 2008
English Heritage commissioners have overruled the advice of the organisation’s own advisory committee over the future of Robin Hood Gardens and recommended it is not listed.
Liverpool council claims heritage is safe with us
29 April 2008
Following an open letter from Liverpool planning manager Nigel Lee, BDonline readers hit back at claims that the city's architectural heritage is in safe hands. Simon Taylor claims the city council has "lost the plot in terms of protecting our wonderful architectural legacy"; and David Swift is "appalled by the level of hostility and arrogance shown by the planning officials". Do you agree? Read full comments and have your say below.
Heritage bill could reduce protection of 20th century buildings
3 April 2008
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has refused to rule out changing the draft heritage bill to reduce protection for 20th century architecture.
EH acts to save historic buildings in Liverpool
20 March 2008
Two buildings on Liverpool’s threatened world heritage site have been listed as part of the biggest review of a city’s historic building stock ever undertaken.
Practice makes perfect at Haworth Tompkins' National Theatre studio refurb
20 March 2008
Haworth Tompkins’ painstaking refurbishment of a 1950s brutalist masterpiece ensures its future as the NT’s secret ideas laboratory, discovers Ellis Woodman
Art installation put up for listing
15 February 2008
The Liverpool Preservation Trust has applied to English Heritage to have artist Richard Wilson’s Turning the Place Over installation listed.
Historic buildings brought back from the dead
15 February 2008
How can historic ruins be given life and meaning for the 21st century? Ellis Woodman looks at the answers offered in projects by Witherford Watson Mann, Simon Conder and Décosterd-Cotting
11 February 2008
English Heritage has unveiled details of its £2.1 million worth of grants to 28 cathedrals across England.
Should we change historic buildings rules to allow for climate change?
1 February 2008
Yes it’s the lesser of two evils, says Sarah Staniforth, historic properties director at the National Trust, but Duncan McCallum of English Heritage says the rules are flexible enough already
Smithfield Market proposal “drives a bulldozer through national heritage policy”
28 January 2008
English Heritage has accused developers of KPF’s proposed Smithfield Market scheme and the City of London of attempting to “drive a bulldozer through national heritage policy” as a public inquiry into the plans drew to a close on Friday (January 25).
Contemporary centre set to face Riga’s medieval heritage site
28 September 2007
Fletcher Priest has won an international competition to design this 46ha urban centre in the capital of Latvia, Riga.
Six firms shortlisted for garden history museum
28 September 2007
AOC, Sarah Hare Architects and Ullmayer Sylvester are among six young firms shortlisted for a competition at the Museum of Garden History on the banks of the Thames at Lambeth.
Liverpool to issue heritage guide for architects
21 September 2007
Liverpool City Council has agreed to create a design framework for its protected waterfront area in a bid to safeguard the city’s world heritage status.
Liverpool creates design framework to preserve World Heritage status
17 September 2007
Liverpool City Council has agreed to create a design framework for its protected waterfront area in a bid to safeguard its World Heritage status.
Full steam ahead on viaduct listing
07 September 2007
Two sections of the former Eastern Counties London Railway viaduct in London’s Tower Hamlets have been awarded grade II listed status by architecture minister Margaret Hodge, who described it as a “first-generation railway structure of international significance”.
Will redevelopment destroy Camden’s boho heritage?
07 September 2007
Camden Market risks being turned into an anyonymous high street, says Ron Arad; while Nic Sampson counters that his practice’s scheme will enhance the market’s unique character
RMJM tower threatens St Petersburg's world heritage status
3 September 2007
Unesco is threatening to strip St Petersburg of its World Heritage status if the city proceeds with plans to build RMJM’s Gazprom tower.
Expanded horizons
24 August 2007
It was a tale of two galleries when thwarted plans to enlarge the Newlyn Art Gallery led to an ambitious expansion across two sites
David Mikhail's Richmond house: Minimal quibbles
06 July 2007
The remodelling and extension of a small terraced house has created a beautiful building displaying intelligent use of space. It's a shame it slips up on some of the details, says Tony McIntyre
Restoring a crown jewel
06 July 2007
Dixon Jones is set to refurbish the Regent Palace Hotel at the Crown Estate-owned southern end of London’s Regent Street, the central element of the Allies & Morrison masterplan for the area
22 June 2007
The government has withdrawn its bid to have Charles Darwin’s home made a world heritage site.
On the terraces
BD Magazine - Housing - June 2007
Urban Splash assembled a winning team to deliver its Chimney Pot Park in Salford, which turns traditional concepts of terraced housing upside-down
Scottish heritage HQ split into flats
15 June 2007
Oberlanders Architects has won planning permission for a £5 million project to convert Scottish National Heritage’s former headquarters in Edinburgh into flats.
Refurbished Festival Hall rejects claim of ‘vandalism’
01 June 2007
Allies & Morrison was forced to defend its £111 million Royal Festival Hall refurbishment at its official unveiling this week.
Musical chairs
01 June 2007
Allies & Morrison’s makeover of the much-loved Royal Festival Hall has been hailed as a respectful transformation, but do the changes go too far
Royal Festival Hall refurb comes under fire
29 May 2007
Allies & Morrison, the architect of the £115 million Royal Festival Hall refurbishment, has been forced to defend its work at the unveiling of the renovated building.
Artists colony gains a new heart
25 May 2007
Caruso St John’s remodelling of Spike Island’s studio and exhibition space in Bristol strives to create a greater sense of community without losing any of the centre’s sense of vitality.Pictures by Ioana Marinescu
Hackney’s rose- tinted spectacle
18 May 2007
The brief for east London practice Sall, Cullinan & Buck was to embody the changes afoot at a local primary school using capital works funding of £1 million. Ellis Woodman takes a look at the result
Preservation society
18 May 2007
Long & Kentish Architects, working with Colin St John Wilson, has added the latest flourish to the latter’s British Library. And the Centre for Conservation is arguably an even better building. Pictures by Peter Durrant
Social housing’s ambivalent legacy
The Williams Report
The canon of supposedly great social housing includes many schemes that people put forward as their most hated buildings
A Russian resurrection
BD Magazine - Refurbishment - May 2007
The Russian Orthodox Cathedral in Kensington, west London, is a stylistically broad church: Italian in inspiration, Protestant in its interior and arts and crafts in its decoration. Now Richard Griffiths Architects has brought all the layers together in a rich, new interpretation. Photographs by Will Pryce and Morley von Sternberg
Locked up in luxury
BD Magazine - Refurbishment - May 2007
As part of a £35 million development, Architects Design Partnership and Jestico & Whiles have been doing time at Oxford’s ancient prison, converting it to a boutique hotel. Photographs by Mark Bramley and Morley von Sternberg
Another world
04 May 2007
An extension to Bath’s Holburne Museum, as well as providing urgently needed gallery space, will create a new gateway into the neglected Sydney Gardens
Heritage fund will lose out
23 March 2007
The government has said the Heritage Lottery Fund will lose more than £160 million of funding between 2009 and 2012 because of the spiralling cost of the 2012 Olympics — now £9.3 billion.
Moving to a different beat
23 March 2007
Eric Parry Architects’ music building for an independent boys’ school takes its place confidently among the hotchpotch styles of previous eras. Pictures by Hélène Binet
Heritage funding gap feared
16 March 2007
The government’s long-awaited white paper on heritage has sparked fears of a looming funding gap in the sector.
Heritage ‘buffer zones’ threaten KPF towers
09 March 2007
Over £1.5 billion of private investment to improve one of the capital’s worst transport blackspots could be threatened by tough new measures to protect world heritage sites.
...meanwhile Unesco warns of danger to historic Palace of Westminster
5 March 2007
Unesco has threatened to put several of Britain’s world heritage sites, including the Palace of Westminster, on its endangered list.
Hanging around
02 March 2007
A school of circus skills has made its home in a former electricity generating station. Ellis Woodman looks at how Tim Ronalds Architects has helped make the arrangement more permanent
Is money at the root of the crisis at English Heritage?
02 March 2007
Paul Velluet blames government underfunding for the heritage body's woes but Robert Adam argues the crisis runs much deeper
English Heritage slams Viñoly icon as ‘oppressive’
23 February 2007
The battle lines have been drawn for a fight over the future of the London’s skyline, with English Heritage ranged against Rafael Viñoly, Land Securities and the City in a landmark public inquiry.
Erskine’s Ark is rebuilt as Byker wins listing
26 January 2007
The legacy of legendary architect Ralph Erskine received a double boost this week as his famous Byker Estate in Newcastle was listed and work began on restructuring the interior of his Ark office in west London.
Jowell’s search for new heritage boss goes on
26 January 2007
The Department for Culture Media & Sport will readvertise the post of English Heritage chair after culture secretary Tessa Jowell rejected two leading candidates.
Sint Lucas Art Academy, Netherlands by Fat
26 January 2007
Kester Rattenbury enjoys Fat’s reworking of a Dutch art school, but wonders whether the practice’s quirkiness is a cover for something more serious.
Heritage lobby demands huge funding hike
19 January 2007
Britain’s leading heritage bodies have formed an unprecedented coalition to bid for an extra £37 million-a-year from taxpayers to protect the country’s historic buildings.
Lloyd’s and listing lobby choose to collaborate
15 December 2006
The Twentieth Century Society has put on hold its controversial plan to apply for the spot-listing of the Lloyd’s of London headquarters after meeting the building’s managers this week.
Georgian on their minds
BD Magazine - Offices - November 2006
John McAslan & Partners has stripped an unlovable 1960s office building back to its frame and remodelled it as a stone obelisk in a nod to its 18th century neighbours
Trinity and Darwin College, Cambridge refurbishments by Fifth Studio
24 November 2006
Fifth Studio has remodelled two buildings at Cambridge University, subtly substituting 1960s brutalist astringency with something more luxurious.
1000 ancient monuments still at risk, says English Heritage
17 November 2006
More than 1,000 grade I and II* listed buildings and structural Scheduled Ancient Monuments remain “at risk”, according to English Heritage’s annual report, released on Tuesday.
Barbican refurbishment by Allford Hall Monaghan Morris
BD Magazine - Public Buildings - October 2006
Never again will culture-going Londoners miss the beginning of a Barbican performance: AHMM leads them through the muddled maze via new ‘portals’ and pedestrian routes
Break free of World Heritage tyranny
27 October 2006
If a two-level planning system wasn’t hard enough, we now a have third level — and it’s global.
Heritage Lottery to grant £13m in Townscape scheme
27 October 2006
Lottery funding of £13 million has been earmarked to regenerate towns and cities across the UK in the latest round of the Heritage Lottery Fund’s Townscape Heritage Initiative.
Royal Court, Guernsey by Nicholas Hare Architects
BD Magazine - Public Buildings - October 2006
At Guernsey’s new Royal Court complex, the majesty of the law is given a commanding hill-top position and a contemporary welcoming feel
Experts to review ‘radical’ heritage plans
20th Ocotber 2006
Government-appointed experts are to meet in the next two weeks to review the “radical” Heritage White Paper, set to be published before Christmas.
Lloyd’s recalls Flacq as listing row rumbles on
20th Ocotber 2006
Lloyd’s of London has recalled Flacq, a young practice formed of ex-Richard Rogers staffers, to look at the future of its iconic headquarters following rows over its potential listing.
Brunswick Centre refurbishment by Patrick Hodgkinson
6 October 2006
Now that the Brunswick Centre’s winter gardens, concrete walkways and shops have been remodelled by the original architect, Patrick Hodgkinson, with Levitt Bernstein, this modernist icon is ready to face a new era.
1 September 2006
Should John Betjeman be remembered for saving St Pancras and the Albert Bridge rather than his poetry?
1 September 2006
I have just moved into a new office, looking west, over Liverpool, European Capital of Culture 2008.
Thermae Bath Spa by Grimshaw Architects
04 August 2006
Three years overdue, Grimshaw Architects’ Thermae Bath Spa has become one of the longest running sagas in British construction. On the eve of its opening, Ellis Woodman discovers if it has been worth the wait.
Commonwealth threat spurs heritage groups
9 June 2006
Heritage groups have sprung into action to oppose the leaked government proposal to delist the Commonwealth Institute via a parliamentary bill (News June 2).
Is the listing system set for demolition?
2 June 2006
Whatever your view is about the merits of RMJM’s Commonwealth Institute, the decision by Tessa Jowell to seek its demolition through a special act of parliament should not come as a total surprise.
Uniting old and new to create rich legacy
13 April 2006
Last week Peter Rees said he could not understand why English Heritage has commissioned a study of the whole Smithfield/ Farringdon area (News April 7).
Heritage projects in jeopardy as lottery funding is slashed
24 March 2006
The single largest source of funding for the regeneration of Britain's rundown built heritage is facing a massive budget cut.
Heritage can make you money, developers told
17 February 2006
English Heritage reached out to developers this week with a guide for developing projects in the historic environment.
Liverpool takes heritage hardline
3 February 2006
The new leadership of Liverpool City Council will take a strong pro-heritage stance, refusing to "sit back and accept" the kind of proposals it would have "welcomed in the 1990s", it said this week.
Place for heritage in Stratford
15 July 2005
English Heritage has insisted the 28 listed buildings across the Olympics site will not obstruct development and in fact should be retained as a way to engage the local community in the masterplan.
Making history
3 December 2004
Muf’s one-room pavilion to guard a Roman mosaic in St Albans was five years in the making. Will the practice’s first bona fide building live up to expectations?
Murphy comes home to restore historic warehouse
8 October 2004
Richard Murphy has won his first project in his home town of Manchester: the refurbishment of one of the world’s most significant 19th century warehouses.
Council hits out at EH on pool listing U-turn
3 September 2004
A local council has slammed English Heritage after an Edwardian lido was grade II listed, scuppering the council’s plans for a riverside hotel.
Listing urged for Bletchley
21 May 2004
Redevelopment plans at Bletchley Park, famously used by British codebreakers during World War II, have prompted the local council to apply for all the wartime buildings on the Buckinghamshire estate to be listed.
Travels through place and history
7 May 2004
The selection of Belgian practice Robbrecht & Daem for a British scheme is as exciting as Herzog & de Meuron's arrival here in 1995, writes Tony Fretton.
| Landmark Trust |
.uk is the network identifier for the United Kingdom, which country uses the identifier .ke? | Heritage | Building Design
Building Design
Big names back Comyn Ching listing bid
28 April 2016
Jencks and Knight argue Farrell project should be viewed alongside Neues Museum and Venturi Scott Brown’s work
29 March 2016
Rare listing U-turn criticised by conservation specialists
No room for sheltered housing in the new look East London
9 February 2016
Gillian Darley says Sainsbury’s proposed Whitechapel development which towers over a grade I listed almshouse is a metaphor for the loss of East London’s traditional urban fabric
New row erupts over Johnson's decision to call in Norton Folgate
12 January 2016
Heritage group wants judicial review – but mayor says he acted properly and will make decision next Monday as planned
We must act fast to save Peter Foggo's legacy
16 December 2015
The late Arup Associates partner is an important figure for many reasons - not least the example he set of collaborative working, says Rab Bennetts. But modesty in life means his work is in danger of being overlooked just when it is most vulnerable
Terry Farrell fights to save 'one of our best' from 'sabotage'
16 November 2015
Architect submits his own building for listing as scaffolding goes up - and attempts to start national po-mo debate
You might as well knock down the London Eye as demolish Hyde Park Barracks
28 October 2015
Basil Spence should be celebrated for his efforts to give people access to ‘light, space, greenery’, says James Dunnett
Why Hyde Park Barracks deserves to be demolished
27 October 2015
The campaign to save Basil Spence’s lowering landmark ignores the building’s utter failure to engage with its urban context, argues Ike Ijeh
10 July 2015
‘Just because it’s old, tired and unpopular doesn’t make a good reason to demolish it’
City rejects plans to turn red phone boxes into food kiosks
10 July 2015
Plans to turn a number of Gilbert Scott’s iconic phone boxes into coffee and ice cream kiosks scuppered
I'm not convinced by plans for No1 Poultry, says its project architect
12 June 2015
As C20 Society tries to get Stirling’s icon listed, Andrew Pryke, who knows the building intimately, sounds a warning over Buckley Gray Yeoman’s redevelopment plans
Riddle over future of ‘vandal’ developer who knocked down pub
7 May 2015
Doubts over whether Carlton Tavern will be rebuilt after CLTX told by Companies House it will be dissolved this summer
Gallery: St Peter's Seminary, Cardross
6 May 2015
Let BD take you on a tour of the ruins of Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s 1966 grade A-listed masterpiece, now due to be rescued by arts charity NVA and Avanti Architects
Travels in Niemeyer country
5 May 2015
The work of the legendary Brazilian architect is loved by the people but is increasingly neglected by the authorities, write Nick Johnson and Lucy Wood in the first of an occasional series of dispatches from their motorbike tour of Latin America
Cruickshank invokes Churchill in British Land apology
30 April 2015
‘Nazi Germany was a militarist, racist, murderous dictatorship. British Land is, of course, none of these things’, says TV presenter
Barn conversions? Read the advice first
25 March 2015
New advice governing the process of barn conversions comes into force on April 1. Jeremy Lake, historic environment intelligence analyst at Historic England, the new name for English Heritage, explains what architects need to know
Top 10 Most Endangered Buildings
8 October 2014
The Victorian Society has named its Top 10 Most Endangered Victorian and Edwardian Buildings in England and Wales, following a national appeal for nominations. The society says all the buildings listed are at real risk of being lost if action is not taken in the immediate future
Southbank Centre wins £16m grant for conservation project
29 May 2014
Future of Feilden Clegg Bradley scheme remains uncertain but management ‘still working to fund wider Festival Wing scheme’
David Archer's inspiration: Steinhof church, Vienna
7 March 2014
David Archer finds modernity and tradition meet in Otto Wagner’s creation of a complete artistic environment for the Steinhof church in Vienna
The Edinburgh Centre for Carbon Innovation by Malcolm Fraser Architects
22 January 2014
Transformation of Edinburgh’s 18th century Old High School required a deft touch and awareness of the need to deliver a low carbon building
Stonehenge visitor centre by Denton Corker Marshall
18 December 2013
Stonehenge has stood for over 4,000 years but its lightweight new visitor centre is not expected to last 100. It’s a sorry outcome for which architect Denton Corker Marshall is not to blame
13 December 2013
Feilden Clegg Bradley’s new plans for the London arts complex: putting things right, or merely tweaking?
Stonehenge’s 21-year saga shows how little we care
12 December 2013
Architects appointed to the Palace of Westminster would do well to heed another heritage tale, says Amanda Baillieu
Kenwood restoration by English Heritage
11 December 2013
Robert Adam’s Kenwood has been restored to its original gilt-free glory at a cost of nearly £6 million, in a renovation that marks a new departure for English Heritage
Sheppard Robson facade designs revealed for apartment buildings in Barts Square
8 November 2013
Lead architect Sheppard Robson brought in Piercy & Co and Maccreanor Lavington to design elevations for three of the buildings
England's top ten at risk heritage sites
10 October 2013
Highlights from English Heritage’s annual “at risk” register chronicling Britain’s most endangered historical sites and buildings
If the price is Wright
16 September 2013
20 Frank Lloyd Wright homes are up for sale at the moment, but are they worth the pricetag?
Restoration is a question of time
30 August 2013
Gillian Darley hopes that Witherford Watson Mann’s design for Astley Castle for the Landmark Trust “signals that conjectural restoration has been consigned to the scrapheap” (Opinion August 16).
23 July 2013
Britain’s leading politicians, broadcasters and clergy members chose their favourites - but is yours on the list?
Southbank’s liner building is heading for an iceberg
4 July 2013
Cultural centre is relying on the revenue of more restaurants, but Amanda Baillieu asks at what cost to its integrity?
10 May 2013
The refurbishment of Paris’s Tour Bois-le-Prêtre shows us how it could be done, says Owen Hatherley
For the record
26 April 2013
Thirty years after Pevsner’s death, we look back to his remarkable effort to document England’s notable buildings
Williamstrip Bath house, Gloucestershire by Craig Hamilton Architects
23 January 2013
In the grounds of a 17th century house remodelled by Sir John Soane, Craig Hamilton has created a swimming pool indebted to early 20th century classicism.
19 November 2012
With public funding cuts and owners running out of cash, more and more buildings are under threat
Lasdun’s drawings find a global home
8 November 2012
Digitisation means the location of an architect’s archive is less important than the quality of its preservation
Architects to benefit from grade II at-risk register
17 October 2012
Architects can expect to see more projects on grade II-listed buildings, following English Heritage’s plans to add the category to its at-risk register for the first time.
Should the V&A alter its Aston Webb screen?
10 August 2012
Yes says V&A’s Moira Gemmill as the existing facilities can’t cope with increasing visitor numbers; but the Victorian Society’s Ian Dungavell argues butchering the Webb screen is unnecessary
Should the South Bank Centre be listed?
20 July 2012
Yes says Henrietta Billings, it is a versatile, intriguing architectural composition, no says Robert Adam, to survive it needs to be useful, robust and liked by the community- not just architects, art historians and their camp followers
Soane Museum refurbishment by Julian Harrap and Caruso St John
11 July 2012
The first phase of the restoration of the museum at Lincoln’s Inn Fields aims to bring three buildings as close to the original vision as possible
Liverpool set for heritage showdown
28 June 2012
Unesco’s objections to Liverpool Waters could see the city lose its world heritage status, says Mark Wilding
Astley Castle by Witherford Watson Mann
6 June 2012
Witherford Watson Mann’s new house within the ruined fragments of Astley Castle creates a physical and emotional connection between old and new
Kensington a right royal mess
1 June 2012
Last bank holiday (miserable and rainy) my wife and I decided to cheer ourselves up by visiting the newly refurbished Kensington Palace to check out quite how the £12 million had been spent (Buildings May 18).
Refurbish Elliott, don't demolish it
18 May 2012
While I agree entirely with Kate Macintosh in her description of buildings as a public embodiment of collective memory (Letters May 11), her “musings” have a wistful, elegiac tone of resignation which, at least in the case of Elliott School, I hope is premature.
11 May 2012
Feilden Clegg Bradley, David Chipperfield and HKR also among firms to reach next stage of funding bids
Demolition aims to erase the past
11 May 2012
The news of the threat both to John Bancroft’s listed school in Wandsworth and to the archives of the Women’s Library and the Trades Union Congress Collection in the not-so-safe-keeping of the London Met gives rise to ...
Will the Shard be listed in 30 years’ time?
12 April 2012
Yes, says Peter Murray, it demonstrates an innovative typology; while Ken Shuttleworth thinks it’s still too early to tell
VAT relief rule is unfair to owners
30 March 2012
The owner of any listed building faces increased costs and restrictions on alterations (“Listed buildings lose VAT relief” News March 23).
All is not lost for education
9 March 2012
Although there was a great deal of emphasis on heritage in the Henley Review of Cultural Education (Leader March 2), the built environment did get a look in and architecture centres even got a specific mention!
Academics favour modernist school trips
1 March 2012
Call for broader curriculum is response to education secretary Michael Gove’s list of 30 buildings pupils should see
8 December 2011
Avanti and ERZ in £10 million rescue bid for Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s St Peter’s Seminary
Should Battersea Power Station be demolished?
6 December 2011
Yes, says Giles Barrie, it would cost a fortune to rebuild; while Gavin Stamp says it is a great industrial monument
2 December 2011
Appeal launched in House of Lords hopes to raise enough money to start restoration work in 2012
Feilden Clegg Bradley wins Middleport pottery work
28 October 2011
Feilden Clegg Bradley has been appointed to restore the Middleport Pottery in Stoke-on-Trent for the Prince’s Regeneration Trust.
24 October 2011
Van Heyningen & Haward has completed a £2.4 million arts centre for young people in Islington, north London
Farrell sorting office plan to be revealed
21 October 2011
Islington and Camden councils will next week unveil details of plans drawn up by Terry Farrell & Partners to look at ways of revamping Mount Pleasant sorting office.
Industrial buildings face greatest risk, warns English Heritage
19 October 2011
England’s industrial buildings are some of the most at risk of all historic assets, according to the Heritage at Risk register published by English Heritage today.
RMJM to restore Gillespie Kidd & Coia church
7 October 2011
Paul Stallan Studio at RMJM has been appointed to lead a restoration project at the Gillespie Kidd & Coia-designed St Bride’s Church in East Kilbride, Scotland.
Go-ahead for Southend Pier
7 October 2011
White Arkitekter’s proposal for a cultural centre at the end of Southend Pier has secured planning permission.
British brutalism added to list of world's threatened monuments
6 October 2011
London’s Southbank Centre, Preston Bus Station and Birmingham Library have been added to a schedule of the world’s endangered cultural monuments.
5th Studio to revamp Norwich tower
5 October 2011
5th Studio has been appointed to redesign the 11-storey Westlegate building in Norwich, a 1960s tower in the city centre.
EH grant saves Yarmouth's historic theatre building
4 October 2011
The grade I listed St George’s Theatre in the heart of the Norfolk town of Great Yarmouth is to undergo urgent repairs thanks to a grant of £250,000 from English Heritage.
Trusts can solve listings threat
30 September 2011
One interesting solution to the reported threat to thousands of listed buildings (“New risk to listed buildings” News September 23) might be to start handing over ownership to community trusts.
Bennetts to design chapel for grade I listed school
29 September 2011
Bennetts Associates has won a competition to design a new chapel and music school in the grounds of the grade I listed Canford School in Dorset.
Cambridge architect wins St Paul's cathedral role
27 September 2011
Cambridge-based architect Oliver Caroe has been appointed surveyor to the fabric of St Paul’s Cathedral in London.
CZWG uses 'country house clause' to win planning for Kent scheme
27 September 2011
CZWG has secured planning permission for a house in the Kent countryside using the “country house clause” which allows isolated rural development of outstanding quality.
Sale halts Tower 42 competition
23 September 2011
A competition to modernise the base of Tower 42 in the City of London has been put on hold after the owners decided to sell the estate.
Ellis Williams completes Northampton school refurb
23 September 2011
Ellis Williams Architects has completed the £5.5 million refurbishment and upgrade of the grade II listed Kingsthorpe Grove Primary School in Northampton
Park Hill estate, Sheffield, by Hawkins Brown with Studio Egret West
14 September 2011
The apartments of the regenerated Park Hill are a world away from 1961’s socially conscious streets in the sky. Here, BD looks at how Sheffield’s iconic housing block has echoed 50 years of Britain shifting political moods
K4 Architects rethinks 30-storey Birmingham tower
8 September 2011
Plans for a 30-storey tower above a grade II-listed fire station in Birmingham are being revised after the scheme was panned by heritage and design experts.
Graham Morrison becomes English Heritage commissioner
31 August 2011
Architect Graham Morrison has been named by architecture minister John Penrose as one of five commissioners to join English Heritage this week.
Twentieth Century Society backs calls to list Banksy graffiti
23 August 2011
The Twentieth Century Society has thrown its weight behind calls for graffiti by street artist Banksy to be listed.
Mayor hopes to realise Florence vision
1 August 2011
The mayor of Florence wants to realise Michelangelo’s vision to complete the city’s San Lorenzo Basilica 500 years after it was scrapped because of the cost of importing marble.
Liverpool Waters could ‘bring drama’ to site
22 July 2011
The outgoing president of the Liverpool Architectural Society has defended the cluster of towers proposed in Chapman Taylor’s £5.5 billion Liverpool Waters scheme.
Is Liverpool Waters a threat to the city’s heritage?
22 July 2011
Yes, says Chris Costelloe, it would overwhelm the entire city centre; while Joe Anderson says 100 years ago the Liver Building similarly divided opinion
New Holland Island shortlist proposals revealed to the public
19 July 2011
Architecture Foundation curates public exhibition of MVRDV, Chipperfield, Studio 44 and WORKac designs at St Petersburg Naval Museum
Lobbyists lambast EH for heritage crisis ‘denial’
15 July 2011
Britain’s heritage is at risk of slipping into crisis because the system intended to protect it is so “dysfunctional”, it was claimed today.
Great Scott! A Gothic reputation is revived
8 July 2011
Next week sees the 200th anniversary of George Gilbert Scott’s birth and, with his masterpiece the Midland Grand Hotel at St Pancras restored, the architect is once more receiving the appreciation he deserves.
Multiple marble makeover for the Scotsman Steps
08 July 2011
A grotty flight of Victorian stairs leading to Waverley Station in the centre of Edinburgh has been transformed by Haworth Tompkins and the Turner Prize-winning artist Martin Creed.
Egyptian Halls face administration threat
6 July 2011
The company that owns part of the threatened Egyptian Halls in Glasgow has said it is facing administration because it is being chased for a £2 million loan.
Restored art gallery opens doors
17 June 2011
The Watts Gallery in the Surrey village of Compton reopens tomorrow after a £10 million restoration by ZMMA.
Redcar library listing report was ‘full of errors’
15 June 2011
The government chose not to list ABK’s Redcar Central Library after being directly influenced by a report riddled with errors, it was claimed this week
BDP and Preston got it right first time
10 June 2011
The bus station is the firm’s, and the town’s, best loved building. So why are they both building a mall in its place?
Proof of value of apprenticeship
10 June 2011
English Heritage recently produced a list of all the listed buildings in the country, from which BD highlighted the 10 architects with the greatest number of buildings included (bdonline May 23).
Shuttle cock
10 June 2011
On Monday night, Building for Life chairman Wayne Hemingway fronted an item on Newsnight, addressing the question of whether eighties buildings deserve listing.
William Hill reveals odds on Broadgate listing case
9 June 2011
The City of London’s landmark Broadgate complex is unlikely to be listed according to bookmaker William Hill
Unesco advisers set to reject Corbusier
3 June 2011
An advisory group to Unesco is expected to recommend that more than a dozen buildings by Le Corbusier are turned down for World Heritage status.
Donations flood in for threatened music hall
3 June 2011
A last-ditch attempt to save the world’s oldest surviving music hall from collapse has netted more than £170,000 in a week after the Heritage Lottery Fund turned down its grant application
31 May 2011
’Conjectural image’ of how the Ealing building looked in the early 1800s is part of summer exhibition
EH in talks over Broadgate listing
27 May 2011
English Heritage this week undertook final talks on whether to recommend the Peter Foggo-designed buildings at Broadgate for listing.
Passing the Broadgate listing parcel
27 May 2011
Things are getting complicated down at the DCMS, where a decision must be made over whether to list Broadgate.
English Heritage launches online database of historic assets
24 May 2011
English Heritage has launched an online database of the country’s heritage assets to promote better understanding and protection of the historic environment
English Heritage reveals George Gilbert Scott is most listed architect
23 May 2011
The architect responsible for designing the greatest number of listed buildings in England has been revealed as George Gilbert Scott
Council postpones ruling over Make plans for Edinburgh cinema
20 May 2011
Plans to demolish a category B listed cinema in Edinburgh to make way for a Make-designed arts hotel have been given a last minute reprieve after the city’s planning committee postponed its decision.
Work starts on Bond Bryan hotel school
17 May 2011
Work on the UK’s first hotel school for hospitality students, designed by Bond Bryan Architects, has begun at the University of Essex in Colchester
Purcell Miller Tritton reveals plans for Wentworth Woodhouse restoration
17 May 2011
Purcell Miller Tritton has drawn up plans for the restoration of Wentworth Woodhouse near Rotherham in South Yorkshire.
Glasgow masterpiece under threat
12 May 2011
The owner of Alexander ’Greek’ Thomson’s Egyptian Halls says he has no option but demolition. James Benedict Brown reports
Tony Meadows' 10-year wait ends as Borough Market viaduct installed
11 May 2011
The most visible section of the Borough Viaduct has been lowered into place a decade after it was designed by Tony Meadows Associates
Architect bids to protect Bristol's Kings Weston House
11 May 2011
An architect has formed a community group to try and protect the grade I listed building and find its missing statue
Cardross Seminary set to be saved after being bought by arts charity
10 May 2011
Gillespie, Kidd & Coia’s St Peter’s Seminary at Cardross near Glasgow could be saved after public arts charity NVA purchased the property from the Archdiocese of Glasgow.
St Pancras Renaissance London Hotel by RHWL and Richard Griffiths
4 May 2011
The painstaking restoration of St Pancras station’s neo-Gothic Midland Grand Hotel by architects RHWL and Richard Griffiths honours George Gilbert Scott’s original vision, despite some disappointing fit-out choices.
Local architect sticks up for condemned Norwich office block
3 May 2011
An RIBA Award-winning Norwich architect has leapt to the defence of a condemned 1960s office block dubbed the city’s ugliest building.
Spab announces this year's Lethaby Scholars
28 April 2011
The Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings (Spab) has announced two architects and an engineer as this year’s Lethaby Scholars – a scheme that provides six months of conservation training.
Save holds up Pathfinder demolition in Liverpool
19 April 2011
Save Britain’s Heritage has scored a major victory in its campaign to keep the Pathfinder bulldozers out of Liverpool after communities secretary Eric Pickles issued a stop notice
Festival of Britain images published for first time
19 April 2011
Archive pictures of the Festival of Britain have been published for the first time, to coincide with the event’s 60th anniversary.
Broadgate plans only attract two objections
15 April 2011
Just two people have objected to Make’s proposal for a huge new banking headquarters in London’s Broadgate, paving the way for the scheme to win planning permission.
Campaigners hail engineer's report as proof Victorian terraces should be saved
13 April 2011
Save Britain’s Heritage has issued an 11th-hour appeal to Liverpool Council to reject plans to bulldoze hundreds of Victorian houses, including Ringo Starr’s birthplace.
Make's Broadgate scheme up for approval
12 April 2011
The City of London’s planning officers have paved the way for the approval of Make’s proposals for British Land to build a new headquarters for Swiss bank UBS.
Appeal over Redcar library ruling
11 April 2011
The Twentieth Century Society says it will appeal against the decision not to list ABK’s Redcar Central Library.
English Heritage weighs up wider Broadgate listings
7 April 2011
English Heritage is considering listing all of the early phases of London’s Broadgate, not just the area under threat of demolition.
Syria unrest hits museum scheme
4 April 2011
The uprisings spreading across north Africa and the Middle East have led to the postponement of a conference to discuss the future of museums and heritage sites in Syria.
Toronto backs Rogers' city market scheme
4 April 2011
The City of Toronto has confirmed funding for the redevelopment of St Lawrence Market to designs by Rogers Stirk Harbour and local architect Adamson Associates.
Cardigan Castle wins lottery cash
1 April 2011
Purcell Miller Tritton’s scheme to build a new heritage centre and carry out repairs at Cardigan Castle is one of the beneficiaries of £10 million handed out by the Heritage Lottery Fund to help three major restoration and education projects linked to the arts in England and Wales.
Listing hopes dashed for Redcar Library
31 March 2011
Architecture minister John Penrose has ignored advice from English Heritage and refused listing for ABK’s Redcar Central Library paving the way for the 1970s building to be torn down.
Record number of entries for Save's Buildings at Risk register
31 March 2011
Conservationists and volunteers have uncovered a record number of buildings around the country that are seriously threatened by neglect.
Lottery Fund awards for Fobert, Harrap and Purcell Miller Tritton
28 March 2011
Jamie Fobert, Julian Harrap and Purcell Miller Tritton were celebrating today after the Heritage Lottery Fund awarded £10 million to projects of theirs.
Mecanoo’s library is disgraceful, says Madin
25 March 2011
The architect behind the doomed 1970s Birmingham library has attacked Mecanoo’s replacement scheme which has condemned it to the wrecking ball.
Spence & Webster Belsize bungalows saved by planners
25 March 2011
A pair of rare 1970s bungalows by architects Robin Spence and Robin Webster have been saved after a north London council turned down plans to redevelop the site.
HOK restores Kama Sutra translator's mausoleum
24 March 2011
HOK has completed the restoration of the grade II* listed mausoleum of Richard Burton, the Victorian explorer and adventurer who translated the Kama Sutra.
Cheltenham Art Gallery extension to start on site after lottery grant
24 March 2011
Berman Guedes Stretton has been given the green light for its £6.3 million extension to Cheltenham Art Gallery & Museum after the Heritage Lottery Fund awarded the project crucial funds.
28 February 2011
Brighton practice Quixotic Architecture has won planning permission to renovate a medieval tower on a Croatian island.
Victorian hospital saved from demolition
28 February 2011
The Victorian Society has welcomed news that the Royal Alexandra Hospital in Brighton has been saved from demolition.
Adam defends Athlone House designs
24 February 2011
Robert Adam has defended his designs for a £20 million neo-classical mansion in Hampstead against stinging attack from critics who described them as “inept”.
Fretton mansion plans anger locals
24 February 2011
Tony Fretton has drawn up plans to remodel a London mansion, complete with a vast subterranean complex beneath the one of the capital’s most expensive streets.
London’s first skyscraper has its listing upgraded
13 January 2011
London’s first skyscraper has had its protection upgraded from grade II to grade I in recognition of its “outstanding architectural interest”.
Balfron Tower’s human face
13 January 2011
East London’s Balfron Tower has become the setting for a photo shoot designed to show the connection between the building and its residents.
Victorian Society lobbies to save Edgbaston houses
13 January 2011
A row of six Victorian and Edwardian houses in Edgbaston is under threat as part of plans to build a retirement village.
Blow for Catford prefab campaigners
6 January 2011
The Twentieth Century Society has pledged to fight a decision to demolish one of the UK’s largest surviving post-war prefab housing estates, in south-east London.
SAVE puts localism to the test in Toxteth
22 December 2010
Localism faces its first real test as Pickles is asked to stop Pathfinder bulldozers from razing Ringo Starr’s childhood neighbourhood
Award for firm that rescued town's industrial heritage
20 December 2010
Potter & Holmes Architects’ transformation of a dilapidated electricity sub-station that once helped power the London tram network has won a local townscape award.
Broadgate designer slams Make's replacement
17 December 2010
Make’s plans for the redevelopment of part of the City’s Broadgate site have been attacked by those responsible for the buildings it will replace
Pringle Richards Sharratt wins planning for William Morris extension
11 November 2010
Pringle Richards Sharratt Architects has won planning consent for a £3.75m extension to the UK’s only gallery dedicated to the work of William Morris.
New hope for Cardross Seminary as charity plans competition
10 November 2010
Arts charity NVA wants to hold a design competition to revive the crumbling St Peter’s Seminary in Scotland after alternative plans to turn it into housing stalled.
Victorian Society bid to save hospital from Meadowcroft Griffin scheme
9 November 2010
The Victorian Society has condemned plans to build offices over the site of one of London’s foundling hospitals.
Maida Vale tube station wins heritage plaudit
26 October 2010
The modernisation of Maida Vale tube station in north-west London has been recognised with a National Railway Heritage Award plaque.
Heritage experts protest at savage EH cuts
21 October 2010
Heritage experts have slammed the government’s decision to slash the resources of its statutory advisor English Heritage by a third.
11 October 2010
The Victorian Society has published a list of the 10 most threatened buildings in England and Wales.
Foster joins protest against adverts on Venice's historic buildings
5 October 2010
Norman Foster has added his voice to an angry protest to the Italian government over the use of giant billboards on Venice’s historic buildings.
Consolation for Chipperfield as Neues wins RIBA conservation prize
4 October 2010
David Chipperfield and Julian Harrap’s Neues Museum project has won the Crown Estate Conservation Award, one a number of prizes announced during the Stirling Prize awards ceremony on Saturday.
Plaudits for EH's ‘at risk’ campaign
1 October 2010
English Heritage’s Buildings at Risk register has helped save 2,000 historic buildings in London over the last two decades, the charity said today
Strawberry Hill, Twickenham, restored by Inskip & Jenkins
1 October 2010
The £8.9 million restoration of Horace Walpole’s 18th century ’gothic castle’, emphasises its original owner’s distinctive tastes
Hadid speaks up for South Bank Centre
24 September 2010
Zaha Hadid has criticised as “unbelievable” the government’s decision not to list the South Bank Centre, insisting the 1960s complex deserved statutory protection
RIAS alarm at Scottish National Trust report
1 September 2010
The Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland has written to the National Trust for Scotland asking for an urgent meeting about the future of the historic properties it manages.
Nicol Thomas faces Birmingham heritage battle
1 September 2010
Conservationists are fighting to stop Nicol Thomas Architects from building a £40 million retirement village in Birmingham because it would destroy a row of fine Victorian and Edwardian villas.
English Heritage demands action on Finsbury Health Centre
11 August 2010
EH has told the owner of Lubetkin’s crumbling Finsbury Health Centre to carry out vital repairs – or risk being ordered to do so by the local council.
Penrose lists two 1960s housing estates in Camden
10 August 2010
Architecture and heritage minister John Penrose has announced a series of controversial listing decisions including final rulings on Colin St John Wilson’s Hereford House and two housing estates by Benson & Forsyth.
EH report boosts listing bid for War Graves HQ
9 August 2010
The campaign to have Fitzroy Robinson & Partners’ Commonwealth War Graves Commission headquarters listed has received a boost following a positive report by English Heritage, claim campaigners.
No 1 Smithery, Chatham Dockyard, by van Heyningen & Haward
30 July 2010
Van Heyningen & Haward’s scheme provides an elegant environment for the presentation of a fine collection of ships’ models
EH warns of more buildings at risk
9 July 2010
Town hall cuts could cause “catastrophic losses” to the nation’s historic buildings, the chief executive of English Heritage has warned.
Purcell Miller Tritton completes Carlton Club dining room refurb
5 July 2010
Purcell Miller Tritton has completed the latest stage of its restoration work at the Carlton Club in London’s St James’s Street.
Fireplace firm claims EH abused its position
25 June 2010
English Heritage is facing scrutiny from Britain’s new coalition government over claims of a conflict of interest which allegedly saw it “abuse” its planning powers in favour of a commercial partner.
DCMS blunder over major post-war listing
18 June 2010
The biggest post-war listing decision for a decade was made by a junior official in the DCMS last week and never ratified by the architecture minister, BD can reveal.
18 June 2010
David Chipperfield Architects’ Neues Museum has been awarded the Grand Prix of the European Heritage Awards 2010.
Granary revamp gets under way
10 June 2010
Work has begun on Pollard Thomas Edwards Architects’ £3.5 million restoration and extension of a derelict 19th century granary building in east London.
High Court rejects Save's Lancaster brewery test case
20 May 2010
An attempt by Save Britain’s Heritage to set a legal precedent protecting period buildings from demolition has been thrown out by the High Court
Avanti Architects’ Sheffield library restoration speaks volumes
BD Reviews Refurbishment April 2010
Avanti Architects’ sensitive restoration of Gollins Melvin Ward’s Western Bank Library at Sheffield University reveals a Miesian masterpiece hidden by years of neglect
Liverpool museum pays out over view
25 February 2010
The publicly funded client behind the new Museum of Liverpool has ended up paying out a £750,000 penalty after discovering the building spoils the view from one of the city’s famous Three Graces.
Hodge lists Abbey Road Studios at grade II
23 February 2010
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge today spot-listed the world-famous Abbey Road Studios at grade II in response to a public outcry about its possible sale.
Hodge rejects EH's advice to list Slough town hall
23 February 2010
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has rejected English Heritage advice on Twentieth Century buildings again and refused to list Slough’s 1937 town hall.
Sheppard Robson to revamp listed Thames foot tunnels
16 February 2010
Sheppard Robson has unveiled £11.5 million plans to refurbish two listed foot tunnels which run beneath the River Thames.
National Trust restores power to the people
11 February 2010
The National Trust has launched a strategy to counter the perception that it is “some sort of exclusive club for connoisseurs”.
Government pledges £3m to complete Cutty Sark restoration
5 February 2010
The restoration of historic clipper the Cutty Sark has been secured after the Department of Culture Media & Sport announced this week it would commit £3 million to the project.
Hackney to demolish Foundry to make way for Squire & Partners' Art'otel
4 February 2010
The Foundry, a popular arts centre and bar in Shoreditch, east London, is to be demolished after Hackney Council granted planning permission last night to a controversial hotel building designed by Squire & Partners.
Savoy Hotel refurbishment nears completion
1 February 2010
The £100 million project to restore London’s Savoy Hotel will be completed this summer, more than a year behind schedule, it has been announced.
Historic cinemas at risk claim campaigners
1 February 2010
Dozens of Britain’s 1930s cinemas face demolition as investors eye them up as ripe for development, campaigners fear.
Culture secretary rejects EH advice to list Preston bus station
28 January 2010
Culture secretary Ben Bradshaw has rejected English Heritage’s recommendation to list Preston Central Bus Station and car park.
28 January 2010
The Prince of Wales has become the new patron of heritage group the Historic Towns Forum (HTF).
Simpson's Kensington Palace plans to be redrawn
27 January 2010
John Simpson has been sent back to the drawing board to redesign a controversial extension to Kensington Palace.
Tear down 60s and 70s buildings, says government adviser
26 January 2010
The government’s new chief construction adviser has said buildings put up in the sixties and seventies should be torn down because it would be impossible to refurbish them to a sufficient standard laid down by green targets.
British Museum extension avoids call in
13 January 2010
Communities secretary John Denham has refused to call in the £135 million plan by Rogers Stirk Harbour to extend the British Museum in central London.
Rogers' British Museum extension gets planning
18 December 2009
Work on Rogers Stirk Harbour’s £135 million British Museum extension is set to begin next month after the controversial scheme was approved last night by Camden Council.
Baroque treasure Seaton Delaval saved for nation
17 December 2009
The grade I listed Seaton Delaval Hall in Northumberland has been saved for the nation, following a fundraising campaign, supported by some of the leading lights of British architecture.
New chair for ancient buildings society
16 December 2009
English Heritage’s former chief conservation architect, David Heath, has been named as the new chairman of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings.
Hodge refuses to list Birmingham Central Library
23 November 2009
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has rejected the advice of English Heritage and an appeal in BD by architect John Madin to list his 1970s Birmingham Central Library.
Tony Fretton shows the art of merger
20 November 2009
Tony Fretton’s bringing together of two buildings into a home and studio was just the beginning of a work in progress for artist Brad Lochore
Haworth Tompkins reveal details of National Theatre revamp
18 November 2009
Haworth Tompkins has revealed early details of its masterplan for the renovation and extension of Denys Lasdun’s Grade II* listed National Theatre building on London’s South Bank.
Heritage bodies attack new planning proposals
4 November 2009
The Royal Town Planning Institute has savaged the government’s PPS15 heritage proposals as a serious risk to the nation’s historic buildings and places.
Foster's Bishops Place tries again for planning
29 October 2009
Norman Foster’s controversial Bishops Place scheme in the East End of London has moved a step forward.
Victorian Society highlights at risk buildings
21 October 2009
The top 10 most endangered Victorian and Edwardian buildings in England and Wales have been named by The Victorian Society.
Dudley Zoo on World Monuments Fund's watchlist
12 October 2009
Dudley Zoological Gardens, designed by Berthold Lubetkin and Tecton, has been placed on the World Monuments Fund’s 2010 watchlist alongside Machu Picchu in Peru and Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia.
Heritage groups welcome Tory lottery pledge
30 September 2009
Conservation groups have welcomed a pledge from the Conservatives to channel an extra £40 million of lottery money directly into built environment heritage projects.
Robert Adam to renovate London's largest house for Russia's richest woman
28 September 2009
The Witanhurst mansion in north London, the capital’s largest private residence, is to be extended under an extravagant scheme by Robert Adam.
Outline planning granted for new US embassy in Battersea
17 September 2009
Wandsworth council last night granted outline planning permission for the controversial new US embassy at Nine Elms, Battersea.
Buried pavilion plan for British Museum
17 September 2009
More than a fifth of Rogers Stirk Harbour & Partners’ rejected British Museum extension could be buried underground in a renewed bid to get it past planners.
No EH advice as council rules on OMA institute plan
16 September 2009
Kensington & Chelsea Council will be forced to rule on the future of OMA’s controversial scheme to revamp the former Commonwealth Institute without the benefit of key advice from English Heritage.
Royal support for campaign to buy Seaton Delaval
14 September 2009
Prince Charles has thrown his weight behind the National Trust’s campaign to buy one of John Vanbrugh’s most renowned buildings, Seaton Delaval in Northumberland.
Tim Ronalds to revamp east London Turkish baths
4 September 2009
Tim Ronalds Architects has won the competition to carry out a £15 million refurbishment at one of London’s oldest Turkish baths.
Rethink for OMA's Commonwealth Institute revamp
19 August 2009
OMA's controversial designs to revamp the former Commonwealth Institute have been substantially overhauled in response to criticism from English Heritage, Kensington & Chelsea council and local residents.
Purcell Miller Tritton’s Martime Museum extension has go-ahead
22 July 2009
Purcell Miller Tritton has secured planning permission and listed building consent for a new £35 million wing at London’s National Maritime Museum in Greenwich.
Landscape Institute management survive no confidence vote
22 July 2009
A vote of no confidence in senior managers at the Landscape Institute has been lost by a margin of more to two to one.
Purcell Miller Tritton in the running for Bath Abbey redevelopment
22 July 2009
Purcell Miller Tritton is one of six firms in the running for a major redevelopment of the grade I listed Bath Abbey.
27 May 2009
A public inquiry into Richard Murphy’s proposed 19-storey £200 million hotel in Haymarket, Edinburgh, has begun.
Heritage groups dismayed at Koolhaas's Commonwealth Institute proposal
29 April 2009
Battle lines have been drawn over the future of London’s Commonwealth Institute after plans for a radical redevelopment of the grade II* listed building were submitted by Rem Koolhaas and fellow Dutch architect West 8.
Architecture minister lists 19 historic military buildings
17 April 2009
Nearly 50 military buildings dating from the Napoleonic War to the first world war have been listed or given added protection by architecture minister Barbara Follett.
Heritage outcry over Make’s Spurs stadium
9 April 2009
Heritage groups have slammed plans to demolish a set of historic buildings on the site of Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’s new north London stadium, following the unveiling of designs by Make Architects, KSS Group and Martha Schwartz Partners last week.
RIBA told conservation architecture accreditation scheme 'unwise'
6 April 2009
Heritage bodies have warned RIBA it will cause confusion by setting up its own accreditation system for conservation architects in direct competition with the existing Architects Accredited in Building Conservation Register (AABC).
Brace of Oxbridge modernists listed
3 April 2009
Modernist university buildings in Cambridge and Oxford by James Stirling and Powell & Moya have been listed, to the delight of heritage groups
Should the RIBA introduce a register for conservation architects?
03 April 2009
Yes, says Purcell Miller Tritton’s Jeremy Blake, because architects need professional benchmarks as much as any other group; no, says Stirling Prize winner Stephen Hodder, we need communities of knowledge, not individual registrations
27 March 2009
Take a virtual tour as Ellis Woodman talks to the architects behind the new Whitechapel Gallery extension
Listing recognition for West Country architect Mervyn Seal
18 March 2009
A 1960s cliff-top house in Devon inspired by the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and Le Corbusier has been listed.
Developer blasts EH’s move to list barracks chapel
13 March 2009
The developer behind Rogers Stirk Harbour & Partners’ Chelsea Barracks scheme in west London has launched an all-out attack on English Heritage’s attempt to list a Victorian chapel at the centre of the site
Has English Heritage failed to protect Robin Hood Gardens?
13 March 2009
Yes, says Dan Cruickshank, it has utterly failed to realise the estate’s worth and potential; while EH’s Steve Bee says not recommending it for listing doesn’t mean it should be lost
Lubetkin’s Finsbury Health Centre — the ideal that time forgot
BD Magazine - Healthcare - March 2009
Berthold Lubetkin’s Finsbury Health Centre was opened in 1938 with his assertion that “nothing was too good for ordinary people.” It was a pivotal moment in British social history that led to the development of the NHS. But now both the building and Lubetkin’s beliefs are under threat
Dan Cruickshank attacks Tower Hamlets and English Heritage over Robin Hood Gardens
9 March 2009
Architectural historian and TV personality Dan Cruickshank has given the east London council and heritage body a drubbing over the Smithson’s estate.
Dan Cruickshank attacks English Heritage over Robin Hood Gardens (video)
06 March 2009
Architectural historian and TV personality Dan Cruickshank has given the east London council and heritage body a drubbing over the Smithson’s estate
English Heritage faces critics at Robin Hood Gardens debate (audio)
5 March 2009
At a debate on Robin Hood Gardens at Ecobuild yesterday English Heritage was outnumbered four-to-one by those in favour of listing the estate.
20th Century Society seeks more power on delisting
2 March 2009
The 20th Century Society is seeking more influence on delisting decisions after Colin St John Wilson’s Hereford House was controversially stripped of its grade II status.
Chipperfield's Berlin Neues Museum (video)
27 February 2009
Work has completed on David Chipperfield Architects’ dramatic remodelling of the Neues Museum. Take a sneak peak at the renovation work
Lubetkin’s grade I listed Finsbury Health Centre to be sold off to private sector
30 January 2009
Berthold Lubetkin’s grade I listed Finsbury Health Centre in Clerkenwell, north London, is set to be sold into private hands after NHS officials this morning rejected a last-ditch effort by Architects for Health to preserve the building’s 70-year association with public healthcare.
Is it all over for Robin Hood Gardens housing estate?
23 January 2009
Yes, residents are in touching distance of having the new homes they want, says council leader Lutfur Rahman; while Alan Powers argues that refurbishment would be a win-win outcome
Traditionalists who do modern
05 December 2008
Andrés Duany, he of the Congress for New Urbanism, rocks up in the UK to tell us where modernism went wrong just as the Saudis sit down with Norman and Zaha to discuss the remodelling of central Mecca
Cross party condemnation as Heritage Protection Bill dropped
3 December 2008
MPs from all three main parties have criticised the government's axing of the Heritage Protection Bill from next year’s parliamentary programme, amid claims historic buildings are being put at risk.
Seven Thames bridges listed
28 November 2008
Culture secretary Andy Burnham this week announced the listing of seven bridges across the River Thames on the advice of English Heritage.
Tories decry likely axing of heritage bill
21 November 2008
Shadow culture secretary Jeremy Hunt has laid into the government’s policy on heritage following BD’s report that the bill was likely to be dropped from next month’s Queen’s Speech.
Upset at Follett delisting
21 November 2008
Architecture minister Barbara Follett has delisted a London building by Colin St John Wilson, against English Heritage advice.
Eric Parry’s St Martin-in-the-Fields makeover
07 November 2008
Eric Parry Architects’ refurbishment and reconfiguration of Trafalgar Square’s St Martin-in-the-Fields church demonstrates an impressive singularity of vision.
Government may drop heritage bill to tackle credit crunch
4 November 2008
The heritage protection bill may be axed from next year’s parliamentary programme to make way for legislation to help beat the credit crunch, culture minister Andy Burnham has signalled.
Historic Berlin airport closes
3 November 2008
The last planes have taken off from Berlin’s Tempelhof airport, after a referendum to save the airport failed to attract enough support.
Heritage bill rethink after costs disputed
31 October 2008
The cost of implementing the heritage protection bill is likely to be far more than estimated, the government has admitted.
EH’s Heritage Counts report calls for ‘recycling’ of older buildings to cut CO2 emissions
30 October 2008
English Heritage today called on the government to recycle and adapt older buildings to help meet carbon reduction targets.
Eric Parry Architects completes £36m restoration of St Martin-in-the-Field
BD Mag - Refurbishment - October 08
Eric Parry Architects this month finally completes its £36 million refurbishment of St Martin-in-the-Fields at Trafalgar Square, London, some six and a half years after winning the commission.
Hût Architecture’s slice of white
BD Mag - Refurbishment - October 08
Hût has refurbished two central London townhouses in typically eclectic style for film company White House Post Production, reports Jessica Cargill Thomson. Photos by Kilian O’Sullivan
EH lists its top 20 heritage projects
10 October 2008
Liverpool’s Bluecoat arts centre, King’s Cross Central in London and Sheffield’s Park Hill have been named in an English Heritage list of England’s 20 best conservation-led developments.
Celebrating the best of Scotland’s architectural heritage
12 September 2008
To mark the opening of the Scottish Pavilion, BD goes in search of the buildings and structures that epitomise the country and its people
Listing threat to Chelsea Barracks development
12 September 2008
English Heritage has dealt a new blow to Rogers Stirk Harbour’s controversial Chelsea Barracks scheme by recommending a Victorian chapel on the site be listed at grade II.
Walker church listed
12 September 2008
A modernist church designed by Derek Walker — the former chief architect of Milton Keynes — has become the first 20th century building to be listed this year.
Natural History Museum unveils images of CF Møller’s extension
2 September 2008
The Natural History Museum has released the first pictures of the second phase of its state-of-the-art Darwin Centre, a scientific research and collections facility designed by Scandinavian architect C F Møller.
Should Saarinen’s American Embassy building be listed?
29 August 2008
Yes, says Docomomo’s Dennis Sharp, it’s well scaled and well weathered; no, says Westminster’s Robert Davis, it’s a mess inside, mediocre on the outside, and not historically important
Hodge grants Sherborne’s Shell House grade I listing
15 August 2008
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has listed the Shell House in Sherborne, Dorset, at grade I, labelling it a “great example of British craftsmanship at its best”.
Techniker gets to grips with Jean Prouvé’s historic prefab house
15 August 2008
The solution for protecting Prouvé’s antique prefab on its travels to the hurricane-prone southern US involves stripping it to its structural core
Hodge criticised over heritage bill
01 August 2008
Culture minister Margaret Hodge has been slated by MPs over the draft heritage protection bill, which they claim will cost far more to implement than claimed and is badly undermined by a lack of local authority skills.
Long live Lubetkin’s republic
25 July 2008
Tecton’s Spa Green Estate, a legacy of 1930s radical housing policy in north London, has been sensitively restored to pay homage to its original ambitions, reports James R Payne
Birmingham leader begs Hodge not to list library
21 July 2008
Birmingham City Council leader Mike Whitby has pleaded with architecture minister Margaret Hodge to grant the city’s Central Library immunity from listing in an extraordinary 4,500-word letter.
Heritage fund awards £23m as budget slashed
04 July 2008
The Heritage Lottery Fund has pledged £23 million for threatened buildings, including £7 million for a grade II* listed church in Bolton and a Welsh Georgian town house.
EH proposes grade II listing for BBC Television Centre
2 July 2008
English Heritage has advised culture minister Andy Burnham to list parts of the BBC Television Centre at White City in London at grade II.
English Heritage looks to public in latest round of Stonehenge visitor centre saga
1 July 2008
English Heritage is to launch a public consultation to find a new site for its long-planned Stonehenge visitor centre.
Heritage Fund pledges £23m for threatened buildings
27 June 2008
The Heritage Lottery Fund on Friday pledged £23 million for scores of threatened buildings, including £7 million for a grade II* listed church in Bolton and Georgian town house in Llanelli in Wales.
Council anger as EH asks for Birmingham library listing
27 June 2008
Birmingham Council has harshly criticised the city’s central library after English Heritage recommended the 1973 building be grade II listed.
Aqueduct heritage status nearer
30 May 2008
The grade I listed Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and Llangollen Canal (pictured) in north-east Wales has moved a step closer to being shortlisted for Unesco world heritage site status.
Ex heritage minister calls for RHG listing
23 May 2008
Margaret Hodge must reject advice from English Heritage and grant Robin Hood Gardens the grade II listing it deserves, MPs and former Labour heritage minister Alan Howarth have demanded.
English Heritage defends its failure to back Robin Hood Gardens
16 May 2008
EH chair says estate 'fails as a place for human beings to live'. Read the statement; watch the video
Wright & Wright's Cambridge University Corpus Christi College Campus
16 May 2008
When Cambridge University’s Corpus Christi College ran out of undergraduate library space, it engaged Wright & Wright to remodel a former bank it owns on one of the city’s main streets as the Taylor Library, reports Ellis Woodman. Photos by Peter Cook and Dennis Gilbert
English Heritage fails to back Robin Hood Gardens
8 May 2008
English Heritage commissioners have overruled the advice of the organisation’s own advisory committee over the future of Robin Hood Gardens and recommended it is not listed.
Liverpool council claims heritage is safe with us
29 April 2008
Following an open letter from Liverpool planning manager Nigel Lee, BDonline readers hit back at claims that the city's architectural heritage is in safe hands. Simon Taylor claims the city council has "lost the plot in terms of protecting our wonderful architectural legacy"; and David Swift is "appalled by the level of hostility and arrogance shown by the planning officials". Do you agree? Read full comments and have your say below.
Heritage bill could reduce protection of 20th century buildings
3 April 2008
Architecture minister Margaret Hodge has refused to rule out changing the draft heritage bill to reduce protection for 20th century architecture.
EH acts to save historic buildings in Liverpool
20 March 2008
Two buildings on Liverpool’s threatened world heritage site have been listed as part of the biggest review of a city’s historic building stock ever undertaken.
Practice makes perfect at Haworth Tompkins' National Theatre studio refurb
20 March 2008
Haworth Tompkins’ painstaking refurbishment of a 1950s brutalist masterpiece ensures its future as the NT’s secret ideas laboratory, discovers Ellis Woodman
Art installation put up for listing
15 February 2008
The Liverpool Preservation Trust has applied to English Heritage to have artist Richard Wilson’s Turning the Place Over installation listed.
Historic buildings brought back from the dead
15 February 2008
How can historic ruins be given life and meaning for the 21st century? Ellis Woodman looks at the answers offered in projects by Witherford Watson Mann, Simon Conder and Décosterd-Cotting
11 February 2008
English Heritage has unveiled details of its £2.1 million worth of grants to 28 cathedrals across England.
Should we change historic buildings rules to allow for climate change?
1 February 2008
Yes it’s the lesser of two evils, says Sarah Staniforth, historic properties director at the National Trust, but Duncan McCallum of English Heritage says the rules are flexible enough already
Smithfield Market proposal “drives a bulldozer through national heritage policy”
28 January 2008
English Heritage has accused developers of KPF’s proposed Smithfield Market scheme and the City of London of attempting to “drive a bulldozer through national heritage policy” as a public inquiry into the plans drew to a close on Friday (January 25).
Contemporary centre set to face Riga’s medieval heritage site
28 September 2007
Fletcher Priest has won an international competition to design this 46ha urban centre in the capital of Latvia, Riga.
Six firms shortlisted for garden history museum
28 September 2007
AOC, Sarah Hare Architects and Ullmayer Sylvester are among six young firms shortlisted for a competition at the Museum of Garden History on the banks of the Thames at Lambeth.
Liverpool to issue heritage guide for architects
21 September 2007
Liverpool City Council has agreed to create a design framework for its protected waterfront area in a bid to safeguard the city’s world heritage status.
Liverpool creates design framework to preserve World Heritage status
17 September 2007
Liverpool City Council has agreed to create a design framework for its protected waterfront area in a bid to safeguard its World Heritage status.
Full steam ahead on viaduct listing
07 September 2007
Two sections of the former Eastern Counties London Railway viaduct in London’s Tower Hamlets have been awarded grade II listed status by architecture minister Margaret Hodge, who described it as a “first-generation railway structure of international significance”.
Will redevelopment destroy Camden’s boho heritage?
07 September 2007
Camden Market risks being turned into an anyonymous high street, says Ron Arad; while Nic Sampson counters that his practice’s scheme will enhance the market’s unique character
RMJM tower threatens St Petersburg's world heritage status
3 September 2007
Unesco is threatening to strip St Petersburg of its World Heritage status if the city proceeds with plans to build RMJM’s Gazprom tower.
Expanded horizons
24 August 2007
It was a tale of two galleries when thwarted plans to enlarge the Newlyn Art Gallery led to an ambitious expansion across two sites
David Mikhail's Richmond house: Minimal quibbles
06 July 2007
The remodelling and extension of a small terraced house has created a beautiful building displaying intelligent use of space. It's a shame it slips up on some of the details, says Tony McIntyre
Restoring a crown jewel
06 July 2007
Dixon Jones is set to refurbish the Regent Palace Hotel at the Crown Estate-owned southern end of London’s Regent Street, the central element of the Allies & Morrison masterplan for the area
22 June 2007
The government has withdrawn its bid to have Charles Darwin’s home made a world heritage site.
On the terraces
BD Magazine - Housing - June 2007
Urban Splash assembled a winning team to deliver its Chimney Pot Park in Salford, which turns traditional concepts of terraced housing upside-down
Scottish heritage HQ split into flats
15 June 2007
Oberlanders Architects has won planning permission for a £5 million project to convert Scottish National Heritage’s former headquarters in Edinburgh into flats.
Refurbished Festival Hall rejects claim of ‘vandalism’
01 June 2007
Allies & Morrison was forced to defend its £111 million Royal Festival Hall refurbishment at its official unveiling this week.
Musical chairs
01 June 2007
Allies & Morrison’s makeover of the much-loved Royal Festival Hall has been hailed as a respectful transformation, but do the changes go too far
Royal Festival Hall refurb comes under fire
29 May 2007
Allies & Morrison, the architect of the £115 million Royal Festival Hall refurbishment, has been forced to defend its work at the unveiling of the renovated building.
Artists colony gains a new heart
25 May 2007
Caruso St John’s remodelling of Spike Island’s studio and exhibition space in Bristol strives to create a greater sense of community without losing any of the centre’s sense of vitality.Pictures by Ioana Marinescu
Hackney’s rose- tinted spectacle
18 May 2007
The brief for east London practice Sall, Cullinan & Buck was to embody the changes afoot at a local primary school using capital works funding of £1 million. Ellis Woodman takes a look at the result
Preservation society
18 May 2007
Long & Kentish Architects, working with Colin St John Wilson, has added the latest flourish to the latter’s British Library. And the Centre for Conservation is arguably an even better building. Pictures by Peter Durrant
Social housing’s ambivalent legacy
The Williams Report
The canon of supposedly great social housing includes many schemes that people put forward as their most hated buildings
A Russian resurrection
BD Magazine - Refurbishment - May 2007
The Russian Orthodox Cathedral in Kensington, west London, is a stylistically broad church: Italian in inspiration, Protestant in its interior and arts and crafts in its decoration. Now Richard Griffiths Architects has brought all the layers together in a rich, new interpretation. Photographs by Will Pryce and Morley von Sternberg
Locked up in luxury
BD Magazine - Refurbishment - May 2007
As part of a £35 million development, Architects Design Partnership and Jestico & Whiles have been doing time at Oxford’s ancient prison, converting it to a boutique hotel. Photographs by Mark Bramley and Morley von Sternberg
Another world
04 May 2007
An extension to Bath’s Holburne Museum, as well as providing urgently needed gallery space, will create a new gateway into the neglected Sydney Gardens
Heritage fund will lose out
23 March 2007
The government has said the Heritage Lottery Fund will lose more than £160 million of funding between 2009 and 2012 because of the spiralling cost of the 2012 Olympics — now £9.3 billion.
Moving to a different beat
23 March 2007
Eric Parry Architects’ music building for an independent boys’ school takes its place confidently among the hotchpotch styles of previous eras. Pictures by Hélène Binet
Heritage funding gap feared
16 March 2007
The government’s long-awaited white paper on heritage has sparked fears of a looming funding gap in the sector.
Heritage ‘buffer zones’ threaten KPF towers
09 March 2007
Over £1.5 billion of private investment to improve one of the capital’s worst transport blackspots could be threatened by tough new measures to protect world heritage sites.
...meanwhile Unesco warns of danger to historic Palace of Westminster
5 March 2007
Unesco has threatened to put several of Britain’s world heritage sites, including the Palace of Westminster, on its endangered list.
Hanging around
02 March 2007
A school of circus skills has made its home in a former electricity generating station. Ellis Woodman looks at how Tim Ronalds Architects has helped make the arrangement more permanent
Is money at the root of the crisis at English Heritage?
02 March 2007
Paul Velluet blames government underfunding for the heritage body's woes but Robert Adam argues the crisis runs much deeper
English Heritage slams Viñoly icon as ‘oppressive’
23 February 2007
The battle lines have been drawn for a fight over the future of the London’s skyline, with English Heritage ranged against Rafael Viñoly, Land Securities and the City in a landmark public inquiry.
Erskine’s Ark is rebuilt as Byker wins listing
26 January 2007
The legacy of legendary architect Ralph Erskine received a double boost this week as his famous Byker Estate in Newcastle was listed and work began on restructuring the interior of his Ark office in west London.
Jowell’s search for new heritage boss goes on
26 January 2007
The Department for Culture Media & Sport will readvertise the post of English Heritage chair after culture secretary Tessa Jowell rejected two leading candidates.
Sint Lucas Art Academy, Netherlands by Fat
26 January 2007
Kester Rattenbury enjoys Fat’s reworking of a Dutch art school, but wonders whether the practice’s quirkiness is a cover for something more serious.
Heritage lobby demands huge funding hike
19 January 2007
Britain’s leading heritage bodies have formed an unprecedented coalition to bid for an extra £37 million-a-year from taxpayers to protect the country’s historic buildings.
Lloyd’s and listing lobby choose to collaborate
15 December 2006
The Twentieth Century Society has put on hold its controversial plan to apply for the spot-listing of the Lloyd’s of London headquarters after meeting the building’s managers this week.
Georgian on their minds
BD Magazine - Offices - November 2006
John McAslan & Partners has stripped an unlovable 1960s office building back to its frame and remodelled it as a stone obelisk in a nod to its 18th century neighbours
Trinity and Darwin College, Cambridge refurbishments by Fifth Studio
24 November 2006
Fifth Studio has remodelled two buildings at Cambridge University, subtly substituting 1960s brutalist astringency with something more luxurious.
1000 ancient monuments still at risk, says English Heritage
17 November 2006
More than 1,000 grade I and II* listed buildings and structural Scheduled Ancient Monuments remain “at risk”, according to English Heritage’s annual report, released on Tuesday.
Barbican refurbishment by Allford Hall Monaghan Morris
BD Magazine - Public Buildings - October 2006
Never again will culture-going Londoners miss the beginning of a Barbican performance: AHMM leads them through the muddled maze via new ‘portals’ and pedestrian routes
Break free of World Heritage tyranny
27 October 2006
If a two-level planning system wasn’t hard enough, we now a have third level — and it’s global.
Heritage Lottery to grant £13m in Townscape scheme
27 October 2006
Lottery funding of £13 million has been earmarked to regenerate towns and cities across the UK in the latest round of the Heritage Lottery Fund’s Townscape Heritage Initiative.
Royal Court, Guernsey by Nicholas Hare Architects
BD Magazine - Public Buildings - October 2006
At Guernsey’s new Royal Court complex, the majesty of the law is given a commanding hill-top position and a contemporary welcoming feel
Experts to review ‘radical’ heritage plans
20th Ocotber 2006
Government-appointed experts are to meet in the next two weeks to review the “radical” Heritage White Paper, set to be published before Christmas.
Lloyd’s recalls Flacq as listing row rumbles on
20th Ocotber 2006
Lloyd’s of London has recalled Flacq, a young practice formed of ex-Richard Rogers staffers, to look at the future of its iconic headquarters following rows over its potential listing.
Brunswick Centre refurbishment by Patrick Hodgkinson
6 October 2006
Now that the Brunswick Centre’s winter gardens, concrete walkways and shops have been remodelled by the original architect, Patrick Hodgkinson, with Levitt Bernstein, this modernist icon is ready to face a new era.
1 September 2006
Should John Betjeman be remembered for saving St Pancras and the Albert Bridge rather than his poetry?
1 September 2006
I have just moved into a new office, looking west, over Liverpool, European Capital of Culture 2008.
Thermae Bath Spa by Grimshaw Architects
04 August 2006
Three years overdue, Grimshaw Architects’ Thermae Bath Spa has become one of the longest running sagas in British construction. On the eve of its opening, Ellis Woodman discovers if it has been worth the wait.
Commonwealth threat spurs heritage groups
9 June 2006
Heritage groups have sprung into action to oppose the leaked government proposal to delist the Commonwealth Institute via a parliamentary bill (News June 2).
Is the listing system set for demolition?
2 June 2006
Whatever your view is about the merits of RMJM’s Commonwealth Institute, the decision by Tessa Jowell to seek its demolition through a special act of parliament should not come as a total surprise.
Uniting old and new to create rich legacy
13 April 2006
Last week Peter Rees said he could not understand why English Heritage has commissioned a study of the whole Smithfield/ Farringdon area (News April 7).
Heritage projects in jeopardy as lottery funding is slashed
24 March 2006
The single largest source of funding for the regeneration of Britain's rundown built heritage is facing a massive budget cut.
Heritage can make you money, developers told
17 February 2006
English Heritage reached out to developers this week with a guide for developing projects in the historic environment.
Liverpool takes heritage hardline
3 February 2006
The new leadership of Liverpool City Council will take a strong pro-heritage stance, refusing to "sit back and accept" the kind of proposals it would have "welcomed in the 1990s", it said this week.
Place for heritage in Stratford
15 July 2005
English Heritage has insisted the 28 listed buildings across the Olympics site will not obstruct development and in fact should be retained as a way to engage the local community in the masterplan.
Making history
3 December 2004
Muf’s one-room pavilion to guard a Roman mosaic in St Albans was five years in the making. Will the practice’s first bona fide building live up to expectations?
Murphy comes home to restore historic warehouse
8 October 2004
Richard Murphy has won his first project in his home town of Manchester: the refurbishment of one of the world’s most significant 19th century warehouses.
Council hits out at EH on pool listing U-turn
3 September 2004
A local council has slammed English Heritage after an Edwardian lido was grade II listed, scuppering the council’s plans for a riverside hotel.
Listing urged for Bletchley
21 May 2004
Redevelopment plans at Bletchley Park, famously used by British codebreakers during World War II, have prompted the local council to apply for all the wartime buildings on the Buckinghamshire estate to be listed.
Travels through place and history
7 May 2004
The selection of Belgian practice Robbrecht & Daem for a British scheme is as exciting as Herzog & de Meuron's arrival here in 1995, writes Tony Fretton.
| i don't know |
What was the name of Sweden's Foreign Minister murdered on 11th September 2003? | A Nordic and European tragedy | The Economist
The murder of Sweden's foreign minister
A Nordic and European tragedy
The murder of Anna Lindh, Sweden's foreign minister, has shaken the nation but may not (see article) make Swedes embrace Europe's single currency
Sep 11th 2003
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ANNA LINDH, the Swedish foreign minister who died on September 11th after being stabbed the day before in a Swedish department store by an assailant apparently unknown to her, typified many of the good qualities associated with her country: candour, high-mindedness, a sense of justice and equality, and pragmatism. As foreign minister, she helped to push Sweden out of its traditional neutrality and towards a more active engagement in the wider world, particularly within the European Union.
Hence, to a large degree, her enthusiasm for Sweden to join the EU, which it did in 1995, and, more recently, to join Europe's single currency. She had been Sweden's most prominent promoter of the euro, matching the prime minister, Goran Persson. Her handsome face smiled out of thousands of posters festooned across the country. She was widely considered to be the pro-euro team's best asset. Many expected her to be the next prime minister.
In the first rush of national gloom and introspection following Mrs Lindh's death, some politicians suggested that the referendum should be postponed. Immediately after the attack, Mr Persson said that the yes side would stop campaigning, out of respect for the foreign minister, whether or not the referendum went ahead on schedule. But, with leaders of the opposition parties (including those who support the euro) urging that the vote should be held, the prime minister agreed that it should go ahead.
In this section
Sweden and the euro: Why the voters are reluctant Sep 11th 2003
Inevitably, there were calls for Sweden's politicians to have tighter security. Inevitably, too, there were glum reminders of the murder in 1986 of the then prime minister, Olof Palme, after he left a Stockholm cinema; his killer has never been found. As The Economist went to press, Mrs Lindh's killer had not been caught. An onlooker described him merely as a tall man in camouflage fatigues.
As things stand, only the prime minister and King Carl XVI Gustaf have regular bodyguards. Ordinary citizens in the capital often bump into government ministers in the street or in the underground railway and enjoy bearding them about issues of the day. Despite the tragedy that befell Mrs Lindh, the Swedish public and politicians will be loth to dispense altogether with such openness, a treasured symbol of the country's egalitarian tradition.
Mrs Lindh's own career embodied much that has happened to Sweden over the past decade or so. Aged 46 and trained as a lawyer, she was always active in politics: she had been head of the Social Democrats' youth movement. Starting in local politics in Stockholm, she entered parliament in 1982 and soon achieved promotion, becoming environment minister in 1994 and foreign minister in 1998.
In comparison with older-guard members of her party, she was notably less ideological, and keen to move Sweden from its neutralist moral high ground, enthusing, for instance, about the country's recent readiness to co-operate with NATO in defence matters. She was also an ardent advocate of bringing the Baltic states both into NATO and into the EU.
At the same time, however, while urging solidarity with the United States after the felling of New York's Twin Towers two years ago, she was typically forthright in condemning the Americans for failing to wait for a UN Security Council resolution this spring before going to war in Iraq, describing President George Bush as a “lone ranger”. But, by virtue of her famed charm and intelligence, she kept a good rapport with, among others, Colin Powell, the American secretary of state, who once reportedly said there were three good things about Sweden: “Abba, Volvos and Anna Lindh”. (“Am I only third?” she is said to have quipped back.) More recently, she had been rude about Italy's prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, questioning Italy's suitability under his leadership to hold the EU's current six-month presidency.
In general, however, Mrs Lindh was at pains to pull Sweden more actively into the affairs of Europe, shifting the emphasis away from her country's focus on third-world matters (especially in Africa) while sustaining its position as one of the highest per capita donors to poor countries.
Yet, despite her enthusiasm for the euro, by the standards of the EU's founding core of countries, she did not uncritically favour ever closer political integration. She had become probably the most influential of the three Nordic EU countries' foreign ministers. In particular she demanded greater openness in EU affairs, in keeping with her own country's tradition. For that reason alone, she will be sorely missed on the international stage.
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| Anna Lindh |
Which car company makes a model called the 'Serena'? | Suspect denies Sweden's Lindh slaying
Suspect denies Sweden's Lindh slaying
( 2003-09-18 10:13) (Agencies)
The man arrested by Swedish police in connection with last week's murder of Foreign Minister Anna Lindh denied on Wednesday carrying out the attack, his defense lawyer said.
Swedish police spokeswoman Stina Wessling speaks at a press conference in Stockholm, Sept., 2003. Swedish police arrested a man who was suspected of killing Foreign Minister Anna Lindh, Wessling said late Tuesday night. [Reuters]
"I just met my client and during the hearings he said he had nothing to do with the murder of Anna Lindh," Gunnar Falk, the suspect's court-appointed legal counsel, told reporters after his first meeting with the man arrested by police on Tuesday.
Lindh was stabbed on September 10 while out shopping without bodyguards in a central Stockholm department store. She died the next day of her wounds. The murder rekindled memories of the unsolved assassination of Prime Minister Olof Palme in 1986.
Tipped as Sweden's next prime minister, 46-year-old Lindh died just days before Swedes rejected joining the European single currency in a referendum. She campaigned strongly for a yes vote but police have not linked the attack to her pro-euro views.
The suspect's lawyer said the police questioning had lasted for almost two hours. Police have not released the man's name but say the 35-year-old is a chief suspect among up to 10 people they are seeking over Lindh's fatal stabbing.
FLOOD OF TIP-OFFS
Police say the suspect resembles a man caught on security cameras in the department store minutes before Lindh was attacked.
His arrest on Tuesday followed a flood of tip-offs from the public and relatives of the suspect after the pictures were given to the media at the weekend.
Under Swedish law, police can hold a suspect for three days before charges must be filed or a court remands them in custody. In the Lindh murder case, this deadline is on Friday at noon local time, prosecutor Agneta Blidberg, who is also in charge of the still ongoing Palme murder investigation, told a news conference earlier on Wednesday.
Results of tests being made on a sample of the suspect's blood to establish his genetic code, or DNA, are expected on Thursday, Tore Olsson, deputy chief of the forensic lab conducting the tests, told the news conference.
Forensic experts will then check whether the suspect's DNA matches traces found on the knife that killed Lindh. Other tests will be carried out on a baseball cap police believe the killer dropped as he fled the scene.
DNA samples found on the knife have also been sent for laboratory tests in Britain, though obtaining those results may take up to six weeks, Tomas Johansson, a senior Swedish forensic science official, told Reuters.
| i don't know |
Sean Combs is the real name of which 'Rap' singer? | Sean Combs (Rapper) - Pics, Videos, Dating, & News
Sean Combs
Male
Born Nov 4, 1969
Sean John Combs, also known by his stage names Puff Daddy, Diddy and P Diddy, is an American rapper, singer, record producer, actor, and entrepreneur. Combs was born in Harlem and grew up in Mount Vernon, New York. He worked as a talent director at Uptown Records before founding Bad Boy Records in 1993. He signed The Notorious B.I.G. and profited from the success of the artists he signed.… Read More
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Learn about the memorable moments in the evolution of Sean Combs.
CHILDHOOD
1969 Birth Born on November 4, 1969.
TEENAGE
1986 16 Years Old He played football for the academy, and his team won a division title in 1986. … Read More
Combs said that he was given the nickname "Puff" as a child, because he would "huff and puff" when he was angry. Read Less
TWENTIES
1990 - 1994 5 More Events
1990 20 Years Old After dropping out of Howard University in 1990, after two years as a business major, Combs became an intern at New York's Uptown Records. … Read More
While talent director at Uptown, he helped develop Jodeci and Mary J. Blige. In his college days Combs had a reputation for throwing parties, some of which attracted up to a thousand participants. Read Less
1991 21 Years Old In 1991, Combs promoted an AIDS fundraiser with Heavy D held at the City College of New York (CCNY) gymnasium, following a charity basketball game. … Read More
The event was oversold, and a stampede occurred in which nine people died. Read Less
1993 23 Years Old In 1993, after being fired from Uptown, Combs established his new label Bad Boy Entertainment as a joint venture with Arista Records, taking then-newcomer The Notorious B.I.G. with him. … Read More
Both The Notorious B.I.G. and Craig Mack quickly released hit singles, followed by successful LPs, particularly The Notorious B.I.G.'s Ready to Die. Combs signed more acts to Bad Boy, including Carl Thomas, Faith Evans, 112, Total, and Father MC. The Hitmen, his in-house production team, worked with Jodeci, Mary J. Blige, Usher, Lil' Kim, TLC, Mariah Carey, Boyz II Men, SWV, Aretha Franklin, and others. Mase and The Lox joined Bad Boy just as a widely publicized rivalry with the West Coast's Death Row Records was beginning. Combs and The Notorious B.I.G. were criticized and parodied by Tupac Shakur and Suge Knight in songs and interviews during the mid-1990s. Read Less
During 1994â1995, Combs produced several songs for TLC's CrazySexyCool, which finished the decade as number 25 on Billboard's list of top pop albums of the decade.
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John Cochran, former president of Fiji Water, is CEO of the company. <br /><br />Combs is the father of six children. His first child, Justin, was born in 1993 to his high-school sweetheart, designer Misa Hylton-Brim. Justin attends UCLA on a football scholarship. Read Less
Combs had an on-again, off-again relationship with Kimberly Porter, which lasted from 1994 to July 2007. … Read More
He adopted and raised Quincy (born 1991), Porter's son from a previous relationship with singer/producer Al B. Sure. Together they had son Christian (born 1998) and twin daughters D'Lila Star and Jessie James (born December 21, 2006). Five months before the birth of his twins, his daughter Chance was born to Sarah Chapman. He took legal responsibility for Chance in October 2007.<br /><br /> Combs' sons Quincy and Justin both appeared on MTV's My Super Sweet 16. Combs threw Quincy a celebrity-studded party and gave him two cars as his sixteenth birthday present. For Justin's sixteenth birthday, Combs presented him with a $360,000 Maybach car, complete with chauffeur.<br /><br /> Combs owns a home in Alpine, New Jersey, which he purchased for a reported $7 million.<br /><br /> Combs founded Daddy's House Social Programs, an organization to help inner city youth, in 1995. Programs include tutoring, life skills classes, and an annual summer camp. Along with Jay-Z, he pledged $1 million to help support victims of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, and donated clothing from his Sean John line to victims. He has donated computers and books to New York schools. Read Less
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In 1997, under the name Puff Daddy, Combs recorded his first commercial vocal work as a rapper. … Read More
His debut single, "Can't Nobody Hold Me Down", spent 28 weeks on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, peaking at number one. Read Less
His debut album, No Way Out, was released on July 1, 1997, through Bad Boy Records. Originally titled Hell up in Harlem, the album underwent several changes after The Notorious B.I.G. was killed on March 9, 1997. … Read More
Several of the label's artists made guest appearances on the album. No Way Out was a significant success, particularly in the United States, where it reached number one on the Billboard 200 in its first week of release, selling 561,000 copies. The album produced five singles: "I'll Be Missing You", a tribute to The Notorious B.I.G., was the first rap song to debut at number one on the Billboard Hot 100; it remained at the top of the chart for eleven consecutive weeks and topped several other charts worldwide. Four other singles; "Can't Nobody Hold Me Down", "It's All About the Benjamins", "Been Around the World", and "Victory", were also released. Read Less
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Combs collaborated with Jimmy Page on the song "Come with Me" for the 1998 film Godzilla.
The album earned Combs five nominations at the 40th Grammy Awards in 1998, winning the Grammy Award for Best Rap Album. … Read More
On September 7, 2000, the album was certified septuple platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America for sales of over 7 million copies. In 1997, Combs was sued for landlord neglect by Inge Bongo. Combs denied the charges. By the late 1990s, he was being criticized for watering down and overly commercializing hip hop, and for using too many guest appearances, samples, and interpolations of past hits in his new songs. Read Less
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In April 1999 Combs was charged with assault as a result of an incident with Steve Stoute of Interscope Records. … Read More
Stoute was the manager for Nas, with whom Combs had filmed a video earlier that year for the song "Hate Me Now". Combs was concerned that the video, which featured a shot of Nas and Combs being crucified, was blasphemous. He asked for the video to be pulled, but after it aired on MTV on April 15, Combs visited Stoute's offices and injured Stoute. Combs was charged with second-degree assault and criminal mischief, and was sentenced to attend an anger management class. Read Less
Forever, Combs' debut solo studio album, was released by Bad Boy Records on August 24, 1999, in North America, and in the UK on the following day. … Read More
It reached number two on the Billboard 200 and number one on the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart, where it remained for one week before being knocked off by Mary J. Blige's fourth album, Mary. The album received positive to mixed reviews from music critics and spawned three singles that have charted on the Billboard charts. It peaked at number four on the Canadian Albums Chart, Combs' highest-charting album in that country. Read Less
On December 27, 1999, Combs and his then-girlfriend Jennifer Lopez were at Club New York in Manhattan when gunfire broke out. … Read More
After a police investigation, Combs and fellow rapper Shyne were arrested for weapons violations and other charges. Combs was charged with four weapons-related charges and bribing his driver, Wardel Fenderson, to claim ownership of his gun.<br /><br /> With a gag order in place, the highly publicized trial began. Combs' attorneys were Johnnie L. Cochran Jr. and Benjamin Brafman. Combs was found not guilty on all charges; Shyne was convicted on five of his eight charges and sentenced to ten years in prison. Combs and Lopez broke up shortly after. A lawsuit filed by Fenderson, who said he suffered emotional damage after the shooting, was settled in February 2004. Lawyers for both sides, having agreed to keep the settlement terms secret, said that the matter was "resolved to the satisfaction of all parties". Read Less
THIRTIES
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Combs changed his stage name from "Puff Daddy" to "P. Diddy" in 2001. … Read More
The gospel album, Thank You, which had been completed just before the beginning of the weapons trial, was released that March. He appeared as a drug dealer in the film Made and starred with Halle Berry and Billy Bob Thornton in Monster's Ball (both in 2001). He was arrested for driving on a suspended license in Florida. Combs began working with a series of unusual (for him) artists. For a short period of time, he was the manager of Kelis; they have a collaboration titled "Let's Get Ill". He was an opening act for 'N Sync on their Spring 2002 Celebrity Tour, and he signed California-based pop girl group Dream to his record label. Combs was a producer of the soundtrack album for the film Training Day (2001). Read Less
In June 2001, Combs ended Bad Boy Entertainment's joint venture with Arista Records, gaining full control of Bad Boy, its catalogue, and its roster of artists. … Read More
The Saga Continues, released on July 10 in North America, was the last studio album released by the joint venture. The album reached number two on the Billboard 200 and the Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums charts, and was eventually certified as Platinum. It is the only studio album under the P. Diddy name, and the first album by Sean Combs not to feature any guest appearances by Jay-Z or Lil Kim. Read Less
2002 32 Years Old Combs was executive producer of the reality TV show Making the Band, which appeared on MTV from 2002 to 2009. … Read More
The show involved interviewing candidates and creating musical acts that would then enter the music business. Acts that got their start this way include Da Band, Danity Kane, Day26, and Donnie Klang. Read Less
In 2003 Combs ran in the New York City Marathon, raising $2 million for the educational system of the city of New York.
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In 1998, Combs started a clothing line, Sean John. It was nominated for the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA) award for Menswear Designer of the Year in 2000, and won in 2004. Read Less
The clothing line became the subject of controversy in 2003, when the National Labor Committee revealed that factories producing the clothing in Honduras were violating Honduran labor laws. … Read More
Among the accusations were that workers were subjected to body searches and involuntary pregnancy tests. Bathrooms were locked and access tightly controlled. Employees were forced to work overtime and were paid sweatshop wages. Charles Kernaghan of the National Labor Committee told The New York Times that "Sean Puff Daddy obviously has a lot of clout, he can literally do a lot overnight to help these workers."<br /><br /> Combs responded with an extensive investigation, telling reporters "I'm as pro-worker as they get". On February 14, 2004, Kernaghan announced that improvements had been implemented at the factory, including adding air conditioning and water purification systems, firing the most abusive supervisors, and allowing the formation of a labor union. In late 2006, the department store Macy's removed Sean John jackets from their shelves when they discovered that the clothing was made using dog fur (from a species called raccoon dog). Combs had not known the jackets were made with dog fur, but as soon as he was alerted, he had production stopped. Read Less
On March 10, 2004 he appeared on The Oprah Winfrey Show to discuss the marathon, which he finished in four hours and eighteen minutes.
In 2004 Combs headed the campaign "Vote or Die" for the 2004 presidential election.
On February 1, 2004, Combs (as P. Diddy) performed at the Super Bowl XXXVIII halftime show.
Show Less
On August 16, 2005, Combs announced on Today that he was altering his stage name yet again; he would be calling himself "Diddy". … Read More
Combs said that fans didn't know how to address him, which led to confusion. In November 2005, London-based musical artist and DJ Richard Dearlove, who had been performing under the name "Diddy" since 1992 â nine years before Combs started using even "P. Diddy" â sought an injunction in the High Court of Justice in London. He accepted an out-of-court settlement of £10,000 in damages and more than £100,000 in costs. Combs can no longer use the name Diddy in the UK, where he is still known as P. Diddy. Read Less
An assault charge against Combs filed by Michigan television host Rogelio Mills was resolved in Combs' favor in 2005.
Combs starred in the 2005 film Carlito's Way: Rise to Power. … Read More
He played Walter Lee Younger in the 2004 Broadway revival of A Raisin in the Sun and the television adaptation that aired in February 2008. Read Less
In 2005 Combs sold half of his record company to the Warner Music Group.
He hosted the 2005 MTV Video Music Awards and was named one of the 100 Most Influential People of 2005 by Time magazine. … Read More
He was mentioned in the country song "Play Something Country" by Brooks & Dunn: the lyricist says he "didn't come to hear P. Diddy", which is rhymed with "something thumpin' from the city." Read Less
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In 2006, when Combs refused to release musician Mase from his contractual obligations to allow him to join the group G-Unit, 50 Cent recorded a dis song, "Hip-Hop". … Read More
The lyrics imply that Combs knew the identity of The Notorious B.I.G.'s murderer. The two later resolved the feud. Read Less
Combs released his first album in four years, Press Play, on October 17, 2006, on the Bad Boy Records label. … Read More
The album, featuring guest appearances by many popular artists, debuted at number one on the U.S. Billboard 200 chart with sales of over 173,009. Its singles "Come to Me" and "Last Night" both reached the top ten of the Billboard Hot 100. The album became available to preview on MTV's The Leak on October 10, 2006, a week before being sold in stores. Press Play received mixed to positive reviews from critics, and was certified Gold on the RIAA ratings. Read Less
Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley named October 13, 2006, as "Diddy Day" in honor of Combs' charity work. … Read More
In 2008 Combs was honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Read Less
2007 37 Years Old On September 18, 2007, Combs teamed up with 50 Cent and Jay-Z for the "Forbes I Get Money Billion Dollar Remix".
Show Less
In March 2008 the Los Angeles Times claimed that The Notorious B.I.G. and Combs orchestrated the 1994 robbery and shooting of Tupac, substantiating the claim with supposed FBI documents; the newspaper later retracted the story, acknowledging that the documents had been fabricated. … Read More
Dexter Isaac, an associate of record management executive Jimmy Henchman, confessed in 2012 that he shot Tupac on Henchman's orders. Read Less
In June 2008 Combs' representative denied rumors of another name change.
Combs ventured into reality television in August 2008 with the premiere of his VH1 series I Want to Work for Diddy. … Read More
After the season finale of Making The Band 4, Combs said he would be heading back into the studio to record his next album. In an interview with The Daily Mail, he said, "I had Christina Aguilera on my last album, but it's all about Leona Lewis on my next." He appearedâcredited under his real nameâin two episodes of Season 7 of CSI: Miami: "Presumed Guilty" and "Sink or Swim", in the role of lawyer Derek Powell. Read Less
FORTIES
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Combs created a rap supergroup in 2010 known as The Dream Team. … Read More
The group consists of Combs, Rick Ross, DJ Khaled, Fat Joe, Busta Rhymes, Red Café, and Fabolous. Read Less
Combs made an appearance at comedian Chris Gethard's live show in January 2010 at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in New York City.
In June 2010 Combs played a role (credited as Sean Combs) in the comedy film Get Him to the Greek, as Sergio Roma, a record company executive.
An Entourage series representative announced that Combs would guest star on an episode during the 2010 season.
Last Train to Paris was released by Combs' group Diddy â Dirty Money on December 13, 2010. … Read More
The release was preceded by four singles "Angels", "Hello Good Morning", "Loving You No More", and "Coming Home", which experienced mixed success on the Billboard Hot 100. "Coming Home" was the most successful of the songs, peaking at number twelve on the U.S. Hot 100, number four in the UK, and number seven in Canada. On March 10, 2011 Diddy â Dirty Money performed "Coming Home" live on American Idol. Read Less
2011 - 2012 2 More Events
2011 41 Years Old On April 18, 2011, Combs appeared in season one of Hawaii Five-0, guest starring as an undercover NYPD detective.
2012 42 Years Old In November 2012 Combs appeared in an episode of the eighth season of the American sitcom It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
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On February 26, 2014, Combs premiered "Big Homie", featuring Rick Ross and French Montana, as the first single from his mixtape MMM (Money Making Mitch), which was originally scheduled to be released that year. … Read More
The song was released for digital download on March 24, and two days later the trailer for the music video was released. The full version of the music video was released on March 31. Combs is using his former stage name Puff Daddy for the album. MMM was released as a free mixtape album of 12 tracks on November 4, 2015. In 2014 Puff and Guy Gerber announced that their joint album 11 11 will be available for free download. Read Less
In 2014, Combs received an honorary doctorate from Howard University, where he served as the keynote speaker for its 146th commencement ceremony. … Read More
In his speech, Combs acknowledged that his experiences as a Howard student positively influenced his life.<br /><br /> Combs describes his wardrobe style as "swagger, timeless, diverse". On September 2, 2007, Combs held his ninth annual "White Party", at which guests are limited to an all-white dress code. The White Party, which has also been held in St. Tropez, was held in his home in East Hampton, Long Island. Combs stated, "This party is up there with the top three that I've thrown. It's a party that has legendary status. It's hard to throw a party that lives up to its legend." Read Less
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Sean John Combs (born November 4, 1969), also known by his stage names Puff Daddy, Puffy, Diddy, and P. Diddy, is an American rapper, singer, songwriter, actor, record producer and entrepreneur. He was born in Harlem and was raised in Mount Vernon, New York. He worked as a talent director at Uptown Records before founding his label Bad Boy Entertainment in 1993. His debut album No Way Out (1997) has been certified seven times platinum and was followed by successful albums such as Forever (1999), The Saga Continues (2001), and Press Play (2006). In 2009 Combs formed the musical group Diddy â Dirty Money and released the critically well-reviewed and commercially successful album Last Train to Paris (2010). <br /><br />Combs has won three Grammy Awards and two MTV Video Music Awards, and is the producer of MTV's Making the Band. His non-music business ventures include the clothing lines Sean John and "Sean by Sean Combs" â for which he earned a Council of Fashion Designers of America award â a movie production company, and two restaurants. Read Less
In 2015 Forbes estimated Combs' net worth at $735 million. … Read More
Sean John Combs was born in a public housing project in Harlem, New York City, and was raised in Mount Vernon, New York. His mother, Janice (Smalls), was a model and teacher's assistant and his father, Melvin Earl Combs, was an associate of convicted New York drug dealer Frank Lucas. At age 33, he was shot to death while sitting in his car on Central Park West, when Combs was a child.<br /><br /> Combs graduated from the Roman Catholic Mount Saint Michael Academy in 1987. Read Less
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In November 2008, Combs added a men's perfume called "I Am King" to the Sean John brand. The fragrance, dedicated to Barack Obama, Muhammad Ali, and Martin Luther King, featured model Bar Refaeli in its advertisements. <br /><br />In addition to his clothing line, Combs owned two restaurants called Justin's, named after his son. The original New York location closed in September 2007; the Atlanta location closed in June 2012. He is the designer of the Dallas Mavericks alternate jersey. In October 2007 Combs agreed to help develop the Cîroc vodka brand for a 50 percent share of the profits. Combs acquired the Enyce clothing line from Liz Claiborne for $20 million on October 21, 2008. Combs has a major equity stake in Revolt TV, a television network that also has a film production branch. It began broadcasting in 2014. Read Less
In February 2015, Combs teamed up with actor Mark Wahlberg and businessman Ronald Burkle of Yucaipa Companies to purchase a majority holding in Aquahydrate, a calorie-free beverage for athletes.
A new single called "Finna Get Loose" featuring Combs and Pharrell Williams was released on June 29, 2015.
On June 22, 2015, Combs was arrested for assault with a deadly weapon by the University of California, Los Angeles Police Department. … Read More
He was accused of assaulting one of his son's football coaches after witnessing the coach yell at his son. His son, Justin Combs, plays football for the UCLA Bruins.<br /><br /> Studio albums Read Less
In July 2015, Bad Boy Entertainment artist Gizzle told the press that she is collaborating with Combs on what she describes as his last album, titled No Way Out 2, a sequel to his 1997 debut. … Read More
She describes the music as unique: "The mindset is to just be classic and to be epic. And to really live up to that... we know it's a tall order, but we welcome the challenge." Read Less
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Fortune magazine listed Combs at number twelve on their top 40 of entrepreneurs under 40 in 2002. Forbes Magazine estimates that for the year ending May 2012, Combs earned $45 million, ranking him fifteenth among musicians. Read Less
In 2015 his estimated net worth was $735 million.
Original Authors of this text are noted on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sean_Combs .
| Sean Combs |
What colour is the mineral Lapis Lazuli? | Rapper Sean Combs - aka Puffy, P. Diddy and Diddy - Reclaims Puff Daddy Moniker for New Album (Video)
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Rapper Sean Combs – aka Puffy, P. Diddy and Diddy – Reclaims Puff Daddy Moniker for New Album (Video)
Puff Daddy hasn’t been Puff Daddy since he was on trial for charges of gun possession and bribery over a decade ago
Greg Gilman | March 25, 2014 @ 9:09 AM
The world has been patiently waiting, and now Sean Combs has returned as Puff Daddy for the first time since changing his stage name to P. Diddy at the start of the new millennium.
The rapper announced the return to his roots for his upcoming album “MMM” by identifying himself as Puff Daddy in a teaser video (above) for his next single, “Big Homie,” which debuts on Mar. 31.
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Percy L. Spencer invented which household appliance in 1947? | Mass Moments: Percy Spencer, Inventor of Microwave Oven, Born
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...in 1894, Percy Spencer, the self-taught scientist who discovered the power of microwave technology, was born. With an endlessly curious mind, Spencer spent much of his early life figuring out how things worked. Orphaned as a small boy, Spencer had little schooling before he entered the workforce. But a fascination with electricity and nights of studying on his own led to a job with a new firm in Cambridge Raytheon. During World War II, Spencer and his co-workers developed technology that gave the Allies a critical edge in radar detection. Later, a set of simple experiments based on everyday experiences resulted in the first microwave oven, the 750-pound, five-foot-tall RadarRange.
Percy Spencer, a New England farm boy who never completed grammar school, grew up to be one of the world's most successful and respected electrical engineers. One colleague with a degree from M.I.T. suggested that Spencer's lack of formal education may have been an asset. "The educated scientist knows many things won't work. Percy doesn't know what can't be done." The boy who never finished grammar school eventually earned "the respect of every physicist in the country, not only for his ingenuity, but for what he has learned about physics by absorbing it through his skin."
Spencer was born in Howland, Maine. When his parents died, the boy was sent to live with an aunt who made her living as an itinerant weaver. The two traveled about New England, existing on what she earned from weaving and what he made doing any odd jobs he could find. He had to "solve [his] own situation," as he later remembered; in doing so, he learned how to get things done. Spencer's "Yankee ingenuity" what Readers' Digest called his "itch to know" would later help him solve engineering problems that others had either failed to notice or given up on.
Spencer left school in the fifth grade to take a factory job. Four years later, the owners of a local paper mill decided to install electricity. Even though the 16-year-old Percy knew nothing about electricity, he signed on to help install the system. He learned by trial and error and studied textbooks at night; by the time the project was finished, Percy Spencer was a skilled electrician.
The new fields of electricity and wireless technology caught the young man's imagination. When he learned of the heroic role radio operators had played during the sinking of the Titanic, he joined the Navy so he could learn to be one of them. His lack of formal education meant that he had to teach himself trigonometry, calculus, chemistry, physics, and metallurgy at night. After he was discharged from the Navy at the end of WWI, the 25-year-old set off to pursue his passionate interest in electricity.
About the same time, Lawrence Marshall and Vannevar Bush, who had been roommates at Tufts University in Medford, were also thinking about ways to put electricity to practical use. Thanks to Bush's position on the M.I.T. faculty, the men had good connections in the business world and in the university. They decided that electricity could be applied to labor saving devices for the household. In 1922 they founded the American Appliance Company in Cambridge; three years later, the company added Percy Spencer to its three-man staff.
In October of 1925, the company's name was changed to Raytheon ("rai" from the old French "beam of light" and "theon" from the Greek "from the gods"). In 1934 it moved from Cambridge to a former button factory in Waltham. From there, it would become one of the world's leading technology firms with employees all over the world. Its early emphasis on household appliances would evolve into a specialization in defense and space electronics.
It was Percy Spencer, with his Yankee way of problem solving, who was responsible for many of the company's biggest breakthroughs. His curiosity was legendary, and he had the ability to collaborate with highly educated physicists while pursuing his characteristic "let's tinker and see" approach. One of his earliest contributions was a series of improvements to photoelectric vacuum tubes, a major step in the development of the television tube.
In 1941, as the U.S. was preparing to enter WW II, he focused his efforts on the magnetron, the microwave tube in which electrons generated from a heated cathode produce radiation that could be used in radar. Working night and day, he increased the efficiency of the magnetron and boosted output from one magnetron a week to an astonishing 2,600 a day. Radar sets Spencer designed were installed in U.S. bombers, where they were powerful enough to spot periscopes on German submarines. For this accomplishment, he won the Distinguished Public Service Award, the highest honor the Navy bestows on civilians.
But Spencer is best remembered for a casual observation that would lead to a major change in food preparation. Standing next to a magnetron one day, he noticed that a candy bar in his pocket melted. This caused him to wonder if the energy from radio waves could be used to cook food. He placed popcorn kernels near the tube; within minutes, he was snacking on the world's first microwave popcorn.
In 1947 Raytheon produced the first RadarRange, based on Spencer's discovery. The original microwave ovens were huge and expensive, but restaurants, vending companies, airlines, and other commercial operations realized at once the advantages of quick-cooked food. A home model went on sale in the 1950s. The public was slow to accept the new method of cooking, but by the time Percy Spencer died in 1970, microwaves were fast becoming a nearly universal feature in American kitchens.
With its world headquarters in Waltham, the company Percy Spencer helped build is now one of the largest employers in Massachusetts and a leading figure in the global defense industry.
Sources
The Creative Ordeal: The Story of Raytheon, by Otto J. Scott (Atheneum, 1974).
"Percy Spencer and His Itch to Know," by Don Murray in Readers' Digest Magazine (August, 1958).
| Microwave |
How many masts does a 'Sloop' have? | MICROWAVE COOKING (Inventions)
In Depth Tutorials and Information
MICROWAVE COOKING (Inventions)
The invention: System of high-speed cooking that uses microwave radition to agitate liquid molecules to raise temperatures by friction.
The people behind the invention:
Percy L. Spencer (1894-1970), an American engineer Heinrich Hertz (1857-1894), a German physicist James Clerk Maxwell (1831-1879), a Scottish physicist
The Nature of Microwaves
Microwaves are electromagnetic waves, as are radio waves, X rays, and visible light. Water waves and sound waves are wave-shaped disturbances of particles in the media—water in the case of water waves and air or water in the case of sound waves—through which they travel. Electromagnetic waves, however, are wavelike variations of intensity in electric and magnetic fields.
Electromagnetic waves were first studied in 1864 by James Clerk Maxwell, who explained mathematically their behavior and velocity. Electromagnetic waves are described in terms of their “wavelength” and “frequency.” The wavelength is the length of one cycle, which is the distance from the highest point of one wave to the highest point of the next wave, and the frequency is the number of cycles that occur in one second. Frequency is measured in units called “hertz,” named for the German physicist Heinrich Hertz. The frequencies of microwaves run from 300 to 3,000 megahertz (1 megahertz equals 1 million hertz, or 1 million cycles per second), corresponding to wavelengths of 100 to 10 centimeters.
Microwaves travel in the same way that light waves do; they are reflected by metallic objects, absorbed by some materials, and transmitted by other materials. When food is subjected to microwaves, it heats up because the microwaves make the water molecules in foods (water is the most common compound in foods) vibrate. Water is a “dipole molecule,” which means that it contains both positive and negative charges. When the food is subjected to microwaves, the dipole water molecules try to align themselves with the alternating electromagnetic field of the microwaves. This causes the water molecules to collide with one another and with other molecules in the food. Consequently, heat is produced as a result of friction.
Development of the Microwave Oven
Percy L. Spencer apparently discovered the principle of microwave cooking while he was experimenting with a radar device at the Raytheon Company. A candy bar in his pocket melted after being exposed to microwaves. After realizing what had happened, Spencer made the first microwave oven from a milk can and applied for two patents, “Method of Treating Foodstuffs” and “Means for Treating Foodstuffs,” on October 8,1945, giving birth to microwave-oven technology.
Spencer wrote that his invention “relates to the treatment of foodstuffs and, more particularly, to the cooking thereof through the use of electromagnetic energy.” Though the use of electromagnetic energy for heating was recognized at that time, the frequencies that were used were lower than 50 megahertz. Spencer discovered that heating at such low frequencies takes a long time. He eliminated the time disadvantage by using shorter wavelengths in the microwave region. Wavelengths of 10 centimeters or shorter were comparable to the average dimensions of foods. When these wavelengths were used, the heat that was generated became intense, the energy that was required was minimal, and the process became efficient enough to be exploited commercially.
Although Spencer’s patents refer to the cooking of foods with microwave energy, neither deals directly with a microwave oven. The actual basis for a microwave oven may be patents filed by other researchers at Raytheon. A patent by Karl Stiefel in 1949 may be the forerunner of the microwave oven, and in 1950, Fritz Gross received a patent entitled “Cooking Apparatus,” which specifically describes an oven that is very similar to modern microwave ovens.
Perhaps the first mention of a commercial microwave oven was made in the November, 1946, issue of Electronics magazine. This article described the newly developed Radarange as a device that could bake biscuits in 29 seconds, cook hamburgers in 35 seconds,
Percy L. Spencer
Percy L. Spencer (1894-1970) had an unpromising background for the inventor of the twentieth century’s principal innovation in the technology of cooking. He was orphaned while still a young boy and never completed grade school. However, he possessed a keen curiosity and the imaginative intelligence to educate himself and recognize how to make things better.
In 1941 the magnetron, which produces microwaves, was so complex and difficult to make that fewer than two dozen were produced in a day. This pace delayed the campaign to improve radar, which used magnetrons, so Spencer, while working for Raytheon Corporation, set out to speed things along. He simplified the design and made it more efficient at the same time. Production of magnetrons soon increased more than a thousandfold. In 1945 he discovered by accident that microwaves could heat chocolate past the melting point. He immediately tried an experiment by training microwaves on popcorn kernels and was delighted to see them puff up straight away.
The first microwave oven based on his discovery stood five feet, six inches tall and weighed 750 pounds, suitable only for restaurants. However, it soon got smaller, thanks to researchers at Raytheon. And after some initial hostility from cooks, it became popular. Raytheon bought Amana Refrigeration in 1965 to manufacture the home models and marketed them worldwide. Meanwhile, Spencer had become a senior vice president at the company and a member of its board of directors. Raytheon named one of its buildings after him, the U.S. Navy presented him with the Distinguished Service Medal for his contributions, and in 1999 he entered the Inventors Hall of Fame.
and grill a hot dog in 8 to 10 seconds. Another article that appeared a month later mentioned a unit that had been developed specifically for airline use. The frequency used in this oven was 3,000 megahertz. Within a year, a practical model 13 inches wide, 14 inches deep, and 15 inches high appeared, and several new models were operating in and around Boston. In June, 1947, Electronics magazine reported the installation of a Radarange in a restaurant, signaling the commercial use of microwave cooking. It was reported that this method more than tripled the speed of service. The Radarange became an important addition to a number of restaurants, and in 1948, Bernard Proctor and Samuel Goldblith used it for the first time to conduct research into microwave cooking.
In the United States, the radio frequencies that can be used for heating are allocated by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC). The two most popular frequencies for microwave cooking are 915 and 2,450 megahertz, and the 2,450 frequency is used in home microwave ovens. It is interesting that patents filed by Spencer in 1947 mention a frequency on the order of 2,450 megahertz. This fact is another example of Spencer’s vision in the development of microwave cooking principles. The Raytheon Company concentrated on using 2,450 megahertz, and in 1955, the first domestic microwave oven was introduced. It was not until the late 1960′s, however, that the price of the microwave oven decreased sufficiently for the device to become popular. The first patent describing a microwave heating system being used in conjunction with a conveyor was issued to Spencer in 1952. Later, based on this development, continuous industrial applications of microwaves were developed.
Impact
Initially, microwaves were viewed as simply an efficient means of rapidly converting electric energy to heat. Since that time, however, they have become an integral part of many applications. Because of the pioneering efforts of Percy L. Spencer, microwave applications in the food industry for cooking and for other processing operations have flourished. In the early 1970′s, there were eleven microwave oven companies worldwide, two of which specialized in food processing operations, but the growth of the microwave oven industry has paralleled the growth in the radio and television industries. In 1984, microwave ovens accounted for more shipments than had ever been achieved by any appliance—9.1 million units.
By 1989, more than 75 percent of the homes in the United States had microwave ovens, and in the 1990′s, microwavable foods were among the fastest-growing products in the food industry. Microwave energy facilitates reductions in operating costs and required energy, higher-quality and more reliable products, and positive environmental effects. To some degree, the use of industrial microwave energy remains in its infancy. New and improved applications of microwaves will continue to appear.
See also Electric refrigerator; Fluorescent lighting; Food freezing; Robot (household); Television; Tupperware; Vacuum cleaner; Washing machine.
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Which British artist painted the series 'A Rake's Progress' in 1735? | A Rake's Progress | artble.com
A Rake's Progress
A Rake's Progress Story / Theme
Plate 3: Cavorting with prostitutes
Plate 5: Marrying an old maid
In A Rake's Progress Hogarth depicts the story of Tom Rakewell, a young man who inherits money from his late father and squanders it on expensive clothes, prostitutes and gambling.
Although Tom is not portrayed as an evil character, he is certainly out of his depth, thrown into a life trying to emulate the aristocracy without the knowledge or the funds to sustain it.
Over eight plates Hogarth illustrates the life of Tom Rakewell; after losing his father and his fortune, he indulging in orgies and drunkenly cavorting with prostitutes. Having squandered his fortune Tom is forced to marry an older, wealthy woman in order to pay his debts. However, his attention is directed at the maid rather than his new wife.
He then loses his second fortune and is sent to the debtor's jail and eventually ends up in the notorious Bedlam Hospital for the insane which is full of a range of characters. Tom is comforted by the ever present Sarah Young, the maid he so greatly admires.
A Rake's Progress Inspirations for the Work
Plate 6: A gambling den at Soho's White Club
Plate 7: The notorious Fleet debtor's prison
Plate 8: Bedlam
Debtors' prison:
Hogarth's father was detained in Fleet debtor's prison for most of his childhood. Although the artist never talked about this in any of his biographical writings it must have had a profound effect on him. Certainly the conditions which Tom Rakewell found himself in must have been very similar to that of Hogarth's father.
Bedlam:
Bedlam was an infamous mental hospital in the 18th century and was open for viewing by the public for a small fee. Run by the infamous Baron Henry Brougham, there were many accounts of inmates being badly treated and abused. Hogarth's use of this setting reflects the 18th century view that madness was a result of moral weakness.
Local scandals:
The social scandals of the day can only have been inspirations for this satirical attack on the upper classes. Wealthy young men were often seen frequenting the drinking holes and brothels of London. Gambling and drinking were so popular that it's very likely Hogarth had read about or knew men in similar positions.
It was certainly very common for a poor young man to marry an older woman for her money.
Hogarth's Moral Values:
In all of Hogarth's paintings his strong moral code is very evident and he uses his work almost as an excuse to preach to society. A Presbyterian upbringing and strong moral standing meant that Hogarth was keen to use art as a way to shock the general public into action, concerning the vices and addictions that he felt were ruining English society.
A Rake's Progress Analysis
William Hogarth
Composition:
In A Rake's Progress Hogarth uses his theories on the analysis of beauty by including numerous characters within the scene and using symbolism to create an overcrowded composition in which the narrative is very clear.
The artist also uses his serpentine curves and his lighting techniques highlight various characters and aspects, while lesser characters are in the shadowy parts of the painting.
Painting style:
These works were later made into engravings and became publically available, being displayed in public buildings as well as private houses. Hogarth's style of painting is reminiscent to that of the Rococo fashion where loose lines and free hand movement dominate the work.
Color palette:
A rich color palette is also used in bright and muted tones as Hogarth makes red his primary color to accentuate the characters in the smoky tavern and dingy buildings.
He uses many brown tones in these works and overall warm colors dominate, with numerous chiaroscuro techniques.
A Rake's Progress Critical Reception
Brian Sewell
Industry and Idleness , 1747:
Produced later than A Rake's Progress, this series is darker and although still satirical, has a shocking quality to it which is not present in Hogarth's earlier offerings.
These plates illustrate the story of two apprentices who start training at the same time; one works hard and lives a good life, the other works little and descends into a life of debt, prostitution and gambling.
A Rake's Progress Locations Through Time - Notable Sales
Sir John Soane's Museum
London
There were many copies of the prints of A Rake's Progress and although many of them have been lost or destroyed, numerous copies still exist in private collections and galleries.
In an advertisement published in 1734 Hogarth invited anyone wishing to buy prints of A Rake's Progress to visit his studio in Leicester Fields to see the original paintings. The original paintings for A Rake's Progress were sold to the Soane Museum in London in 1802 for 570 guineas.
They were originally hung at the Soane family's country villa, Pitzhanger Manor, Ealing, but were moved back to London in 1810.
A Rake's Progress Artist
Hudibras Sallies Forth
William Hogarth
Hogarth art mainly focused on the moral codes which he and most of society recognized. Codes that were being flouted by people from all walks of life on a regular basis and the artist felt should be brought back to the attention of ordinary people.
Hogarth produced A Rake's Progress in 1735 and the series was to be one of Hogarth first successes in the new genre of modern morality paintings. This set was created as male alternative to 'A Harlot's Progress' which Hogarth created a few years previously.
It shows the deterioration of mankind when moral codes are abandoned and people give in to consumerism, a major problem for the upper classes of the 18th century.
The artist was heavily influenced by 18th century life, culture and his middle-class upbringing. He believed that art should have moral as well as aesthetic qualities and tried to bring this into all of the work he produced.
Having lived in debtors' lodging for five years as a very young boy, Hogarth had seen the harder side of life and brought a sense of gritty realism to all his paintings. What he believed to be the deterioration of British morals particularly concerned him and his satirical engravings illustrate his concerns for his fellow countrymen.
As Hogarth became a prominent figure in the London art scene he was influenced by a number of things. These included politics, art, literature and the theatre.
William Hogarth will be remembered as the father of satirical caricatures and moral paintings, a genre which would later develop into cartoons. His determination and stout middle-class values made him one of the most innovative artists of his generation and he brought art to the common man for the first time in history.
A Rake's Progress Art Period
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
London
Hogarth lived and worked during the Rococo period in 18th century London. The Rococo style was popular in both England and France at this time and was embodied by flowing lines and intricate decoration.
The London social scene that features in so much of Hogarth's work ranged from super-rich aristocrats living flamboyant lifestyles to the incredibly poor working-classes with no money and little hope for a better life.
Rather than be influenced by many of the artists who had gone before him, Hogarth, a true innovator, tried to create a new school of English painting to rival the Old Masters of the Renaissance. In fact, rather than be influenced by their work it has been suggested that he often ridiculed them.
Far from being a positive influence, this style of painting pushed Hogarth to produce work of a completely different genre.
Technological advances were very influential in Hogarth's success and without the further development of the printing press his work would not have been anywhere near as lucrative, as it wouldn't have been accessible to people from the middle and lower classes.
Although Hogarth was a skilled portrait painter he became famous for his engravings which were sold in large numbers to people who would not have been able to previously afford art. His series of moral paintings, such as A Harlot's Progress and A Rake's Progress took a satirical look at the government and social scene of the day, and highlighted the best and worst parts of English culture.
As one of the first British artists to be recognized throughout Europe, Hogarth became a major source of inspiration to other artists. During his lifetime artists and satirists such as John Collier emulated his satire and reflections of everyday life.
In the 19th century the Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood, whose members included Dante Gabriel Rossetti, was inspired by Hogarth's use of symbolism and text to convey a moral message. However it is possibly the biggest testament to the artist's skill and wit that the new medium of the comic strip arose from his work, a genre which is still popular today.
A Rake's Progress Bibliography
| William Hogarth |
Which country has a currency called the 'Kip'? | William Hogarth | artist | 1697 - 1764 | National Gallery, London
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Hogarth is best known for his series paintings of 'modern moral subjects', of which he sold engravings on subscription. The Collection contains the set called 'Marriage A-la-Mode'. Although pugnaciously hostile to Continental art, he succumbed to French influence. In 1753 he published his 'Analysis of Beauty', in which he stresses the importance of the serpentine line.
Detail from William Hogarth, 'The Painter and his Pug', 1745
London, Tate Britain
© Tate Gallery, London
Hogarth was born in London, the son of an unsuccessful schoolmaster and writer from Westmoreland. After apprenticeship to a goldsmith, he began to produce his own engraved designs in about 1710. He later took up oil painting, starting with small portrait groups called conversation pieces . He went on to create a series of paintings satirising contemporary customs, but based on earlier Italian prints, of which the first was 'The Harlot's Progress' (1731), and perhaps the most famous 'The Rake's Progress'. His engravings were so plagiarised that he lobbied for the Copyright Act of 1735 as protection for writers and artists.
During the 1730s Hogarth also developed into an original painter of life-sized portraits, and created the first of several history paintings in the grand manner.
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The 'Criollo' is a breed of horse native to which continent? | Argentine Criollo | International Museum of the Horse
South America
About the Breed
The Argentine Criollo is the result of selective breeding of the baguales, feral horses of the Pampas region of Argentina, by the gauchos of the region for a robust and useful horse. Today this horse is the national horse of Argentina and is a great source of pride for that country.
Essentially the baguales of the Pampas and their ancestors, the Criollo, derive from a single source -- the bloodlines of 16th century Spanish stock introduced to the continent by the conquistadors. Many of these Spanish horses were abandoned by or escaped from these early immigrants. They formed feral herds that roamed the Pampas, the grassland area stretching north, south and west from the delta of the Rio de la Plata near Buenos Aires. The baguales also mixed with horses brought through the region as people migrated back and forth from Brazil, Uruguay and Chile. Portuguese and Dutch horses also had an impact on these feral horses as they were brought to the region from Brazil. It is the influence of these horses that distinguish the Criollo from the horses of Peru and Colombia.
Many travelers and explorers reported seeing tremendous numbers of wild horses in the Pampas. Some recorded seeing herds numbering in the thousands. The native tribesmen of the region soon discovered the great value of possessing these horses. Much like the Native Americans of the North American West, the horse increased the mobility of the tribes and they soon became expert horsemen. The Spanish population also depended on these horses in settling this vast new territory. However, as in North America, as the settlers moved into the lands occupied the native tribes they began to bring change to the Pampas. Fences crops and livestock breeding began to take effect on the feral herds.
In 1806 and subsequently in 1825, the British introduced the Thoroughbred to Argentina when they invaded the region. The French who brought the Percheron with them soon followed. The native Criollo horse was therefore, "improved upon" by crossing them with the Thoroughbred to make them lighter and more elegant or with the Percheron to make them larger, heavier animals suitable for draft work. With all this uncontrolled crossing, the Criollo horse of the Argentinean Pampas was threatened with extinction by the end of the nineteenth century
In 1917, the Sociedad Rural de Argentina was formed in order to preserve the "creole" horse of Argentina. The group was able to locate a herd of 200 mares that had been kept by the native Indian population in the southern provinces. This herd became the foundation for the rehabilitation of the old breed. At first the horse was known as the Argentinean, then the name was changed to the Argentine Criollo. Today is also known as simply Criollo, since the horses of Brazil and Uruguay have been determined to be of the same type and ancestry.
The Criollo is known worldwide for its remarkable endurance and stamina. In 1925-28, A. F. Tschiffely rode from Buenos Aires, Argentina to Washington, DC, a distance of 10,000 miles, with two Criollo geldings. Both horses soundly made the trip and lived to an old age back in Argentina. Annually, The Criollo Breeders Association organizes an endurance ride or "raid" to test the stamina of the purebred Criollo horse. The ride lasts 14 days and covers 465 miles (750 km) and must be completed in less than seventy-five hours. The minimum weight the horses must carry is approximately 250 pounds of rider and tack. They are allowed no food other than that found along the trail. The endurance ride is used as a way of choosing quality-breeding stock that will pass their unusual stamina on to their offspring.
Today, the Criollo is mainly a working cow horse. It is also used for pleasure riding and rodeo events as it is easy to handle, agile and quite fast. Although purebred Criollo horses are not used for polo, the cross of this horse and the English Thoroughbred has produced the ideal polo pony that possess the stamina and temperament of the Criollo and the speed of the Thoroughbred. Argentine breeders have been recognized as the best breeders of polo ponies in the world as a result of the strong Criollo horse.
Breed Characteristics
The Criollo is found in a great variety of colors. In Argentina and Chile horses of tobiano coloring are excluded from registration. These colors do, however, exist in the Criollo and are recognized in Brazil, Uruguay and Paraguay. Many Argentine breeders favor the gateado (dun, translated as "cat colored"), which is said to be the color of the very toughest horses. A great majority of Criollo horses are either dun or lobuno (grullo), with dorsal stripe and zebra stripes on the legs. Curly coats are also frequently found in Criollo herds.
The Criollo is a sturdy, thickset horse with heavy muscling and stands between 13.3 and 15.3 hands. The neck is short and strong, the croup is sloped in Barb fashion, and the tail is carried close to the buttocks whether at work or rest. The mane and tail are thick. The head of the modern Criollo has a straight or a slightly concave profile, whereas, some twenty years ago this horse was always found to have the typical convex-shaped Barb head.
| South America |
Apart from pasta, what is the main ingredient of 'Spaghetti Alla Vougole'? | Latin American Horse Breeds
Latin American Horse Breeds
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Much of South America’s culture is strongly rooted in tradition and heritage, and horses have played a significant role in that culture. The South American continent is home to four beautiful and unique breeds: the Criollo, the Peruvian Horse, the Paso Fino and the Mangalarga Marchador.
Each of these breeds can be traced back to the horses first brought to the New World by Spanish explorers in the 16th century. Over time, each breed became distinct, with its own conformation and movement.
Criollo
The Criollo is believed to be descended from Spanish, Barb and Portuguese horses once owned by Don Pedro Mendoza, founder of the city of Buenos Aires in Argentina in the 1500s. Criollo enthusiasts believe many of Mendoza’s horses escaped into the Argentine plains, where their descendants lived wild for four centuries. The breed became exceptionally hardy as it adapted to the harsh environment with little access to food or water. Continue Reading >>
Peruvian Horse
The Peruvian Horse is closely related to the Spanish Jennet, a horse brought to the New World by the Spaniards in the 1500s. Known for its ground-covering four-beat gait, the Jennet passed this trait down to the Peruvian Horse. The Andalusian and Barb are also believed to have influenced the breed. Continue Reading >>
Paso Fino
The Paso Fino originated in the 1500s and is descended from horses brought to the New World by Spanish Explorers. At the time Columbus prepared for his second voyage to the New World, easy-gaited Jennets were common in Spain. With their comfortable gait, medium size and athletic ability, these horses were considered ideal for the daunting task of exploring and conquering the vast, unknown territory. Continue Reading >>
Mangalarga Marchador
The Mangalarga Marchador’s origins can be traced back to 1807, when the king of Portugal fled his country to escape capture by Napoleon’s armies. The king chose Brazil for his exile, taking his family and several of his favorite stallions with him. Known as Alter Real horses, the stallions were descended from Andalusians and other horses native to the Iberian Peninsula, as well as to the Madeira and Canary Islands. Known for its elegant stature and quiet temperament, the Alter Real was a breed developed exclusively by the king. Continue Reading >>
Many of these breeds have been considered well-kept secrets in their home countries, but with the increasing interest in gaited horses and these horses’ athletic abilities and amiable temperaments, they’re not likely to remain so for long. The secret is out.
Audrey Pavia is a freelance writer and the author of Horses for Dummies.
This article originally appeared in the July 2011 issue of Horse Illustrated. Click here to subscribe!
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The 'Cordoba' is the unit of currency in which Central American country? | Money in Central America | Frommer's
Money
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High inflation in many Central American countries means the dollar remains strong in the region. El Salvador has scrapped its own currency and made the U.S. dollar its official currency. The dollar is also the official currency in Panama, although it is used in conjunction with the balboa. In other Central American countries, you can expect the local currency to fluctuate while you're there, usually resulting in a better exchange rate for foreigners.
Note that most vendors prefer small bills and exact change. It's almost impossible to find someone who has change for a large bill. Many ATMs give out money in multiples of one or five, so try to request odd denominations of money. For larger sums, try to withdraw in a multiple of 500 instead of 1,000, for instance.
Here's a general idea of what things cost throughout Central America: a taxi from the airport to downtown cities runs $12 to $18 (£6-£9); a double room at a budget hotel with private bathroom, $20 to $50 (£10-£25); a double room at a moderate hotel, $80 to $120 (£40-£60); a double room at an expensive hotel, $150 to $250 (£75-£125); a small bottle of water, 50¢ (25p); a cup of coffee, $1 to $1.50 (50p-75p); admission to most national parks $10 (£5); lunch at a simple restaurant, $3 to $6 (£1.50-£3); and a three-course dinner for one without wine at a fancier restaurant, $15 to $25 (£7.50-£13).
Currency
In most countries in Central America, you can use American dollars without much of a problem. But if you're traveling in rural areas, it's always useful to have the local currency on hand. A list of currencies for all the countries in this guide is below.
Some prices throughout this book, particularly hotel rates, are quoted in U.S. dollars since local currencies can fluctuate, though we also give you prices in British pounds (at a ratio of .50 U.S. dollars to 1 U.K. pound). Note: Because of high inflation and volatile exchange rates, prices quoted here may vary greatly in accuracy.
Belize -- The Belize dollar, abbreviated BZ$, is the official currency of Belize. It is pegged to the U.S. dollar at a ratio of 2 Belize dollars to 1 U.S. dollar, or 4 Belize dollars to the U.K. pound. Both currencies are acceptable at almost any business or establishment around the country. Denominations include 50¢ and $1 coins, while notes come in 2, 5, 10, 20, 50, and 100 denominations.
Guatemala -- The unit of currency in Guatemala is the quetzal. In June 2008, there were approximately 7.4 quetzales to the American dollar, or 14.8 quetzales to the U.K. pound, but because the quetzal does fluctuate, you can expect this rate to change. There are 1 quetzal coins and paper notes in denominations of 1, 5, 10, 20, 50, and 100 quetzales.
El Salvador -- El Salvador uses the U.S. dollar as its national currency. Prices in that chapter are quoted in American and British currency only.
Honduras -- The Honduran unit of currency is called a lempira. It currently hovers at approximately 19 to 1 with the American dollar, and 38 to 1 with the U.K. pound. It comes in paper denominations of 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 100, and 500 lempiras. There are 100 centavos in a lempira and they come in coin forms of 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, and 50 centavos.
Nicaragua -- The official Nicaraguan currency is the córdoba (it is sometimes referred to as a peso). It currently rates at approximately 19 to 1 with the American dollar, and 38 to 1 with the U.K. pound. It is made up of 100 centavos. Money is denominated in notes of 10, 20, 50, 100, and 500 córdobas. Coins are made of 1 and 5 córdobas and 50 centavos.
Costa Rica -- The unit of currency in Costa Rica is the colón. In June 2008, there were approximately 520 colones to the American dollar and 1,040 colones to the British pound. Because of this high exchange rate, prices in the Costa Rica chapter are quoted only in American and British currency. The colón is divided into 100 céntimos. Currently, two types of coins are in circulation. The older and larger nickel-alloy coins come in denominations of 10, 25, and 50 céntimos and 1, 2, 5, 10, and 20 colones; and newer, gold-hued 5-, 10-, 25-, 50-, 100-, and 500-colón coins. There are paper notes in denominations of 1,000, 2,000, 5,000, and 10,000 colones.
Panama -- The unit of currency in Panama is the U.S. dollar, but the Panamanian balboa, which is pegged to the dollar at a 1:1 ratio, also circulates in denominations of 5¢, 10¢, 25¢, and 50¢ coins. (U.S. coins are in circulation as well.) Balboa coins are sized similarly to their U.S. counterparts. Prices in the Panama chapter are quoted in American and British currency only.
ATMs
The easiest and best way to get cash throughout Central America is from an ATM (automated teller machine). The Cirrus (tel. 800/424-7787; www.mastercard.com) and PLUS (tel. 800/843-7587; www.visa.com) networks work here; look at the back of your bank card to see which network you're on, then call or check online for ATM locations at your destination. Be sure you know your personal identification number (PIN) and daily withdrawal limit before you depart -- you'll need a four-digit PIN throughout much of this region. Note: Remember that many banks impose a fee every time you use a card at another bank's ATM, and that fee can be higher for international transactions (up to $5/£2.50 or more) than for domestic ones (where they're rarely more than $2/£1). In addition, the bank from which you withdraw cash may charge its own fee. For international withdrawal fees, ask your bank.
You can also use your credit card to receive cash advances at ATMs. Keep in mind that credit card companies protect themselves from theft by limiting maximum withdrawals outside their home country, so call your credit card company before you leave home. And know that you'll pay interest from the moment of your withdrawal, even if you pay your monthly bills on time.
Traveler's Checks
Traveler's checks are something of an anachronism from the days before the ATM made cash accessible at any time. They're also hard to cash outside major Central American cities, and even in those cities, you may still have problems doing so. Your best bet for exchanging traveler's checks is by heading to casas de cambio (money-exchange houses), though they usually change checks for a significant fee. Many banks will not exchange traveler's checks, and those that do often have long lines.
If you do choose to carry traveler's checks, keep a record of their serial numbers separate from your checks in the event that they are stolen or lost. You'll get a refund faster if you know the numbers.
Credit Cards
Credit cards are another safe way to carry money throughout this region. They provide a convenient record of all your expenses, and they generally offer relatively good exchange rates. You can also withdraw cash advances from your credit cards at banks or ATMs, provided you know your PIN. If you don't know yours, call the number on the back of your credit card and ask the bank to send it to you. It usually takes 5 to 7 business days, though some banks will provide the number over the phone if you tell them your mother's maiden name or some other personal information.
Keep in mind that many banks now assess a 1% to 3% "transaction fee" on all charges you incur abroad (whether you're using the local currency or U.S. dollars). But credit cards still may be the smart way to go when you factor in things like exorbitant ATM fees and the higher exchange rates and service fees you'll pay with traveler's checks.
Visa, MasterCard, American Express, and Diners Club are all commonly accepted in Central America.
If Your Wallet Is Lost or Stolen -- Be sure to tell all of your credit card companies the minute you discover your wallet has been lost or stolen, and file a report at the nearest police precinct. Your credit card company or insurer may require a police report number or record of the loss. Most credit card companies have an emergency toll-free number to call if your card is lost or stolen; they may be able to wire you a cash advance immediately or deliver an emergency credit card in a day or two.
Note: This information was accurate when it was published, but can change without notice. Please be sure to confirm all rates and details directly with the companies in question before planning your trip.
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| Nicaragua |
Who in 1996 married Antonio Banderas, her co-star in 'Too Much'? | Nicaragua - Money and Exchange Rates
By Kirsten Hubbard
Updated November 17, 2016.
Nicaragua is the largest country in Central America. In the last century it suffered a lot of political unrest and a terrible civil war. On top of that there have been a few earthquakes that have destroyed tons of buildings from all over the country.
Even though the wars have already ended the country remains one of the least visited by travelers from the region.
But the word of it being a beautiful place and having a lot of sun things to offer has already started to spread around the world and started to become a place that nature lovers want to visit and some even decided to stay in it and buy properties.
Its huge lake , colonial cities, lush forests, stunning beaches and bio diversity definitely make it a place every adventurer should stop by while traveling along Latin America. Plus, because it is still relatively unknown for tourists prices are still not as high as they would be in more popular places such as Costa Rica.
If you are planning a visit to Nicaragua you might as well learn about its currency in advance.
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Here are a few facts about it and information about average costs.
Money in Nicaragua:
The Nicaragua Córdoba (NIO): One unit of Nicaraguan currency is called the córdoba. The Nicaragua córdoba is divided into 100 centavos.
- The bills come in six different amounts: C$10 (green) C$20 (orange) C$50 (purple) C$100 (blue) C$200 (brown) C$500 (red).
- You will also find coins that are worth: C$0.10 C$0.25 C$0.50 C$1 C$5.
Exchange Rate:
The exchange rate of the Nicaragua córdoba to the US dollar is approximately C$30 to one USD, which means one córdoba is worth around USD 3.5 cents. For exact exchange rates, visit Yahoo! Finance .
Historic Facts:
The Nicaragua córdoba is named for the founder of Nicaragua, Francisco Hernández de Córdoba.
Initially, it was equal to the US dollar.
It first appeared in 1912.
The original coins used to contain gold.
The devaluation of the currency that resulted of the civil war was finally somewhat controlled in 1991. Since then it has been somewhat stable.
Nicaragua Money Tips:
The US dollar is widely accepted in Nicaragua's most touristy locations but you will be able to get more discounts at stores, restaurants and even in some hotels if you use the Cordoba. Haggling is also almost impossible if you pay with dollars. Small businesses don't like having to go through the trouble of having to go to the bank and do the long lines to change the dollars.
The Cost of Traveling in Nicaragua
At hotels – Hostels typically charge an average of $17 USD per night for a double room. Dorm rooms are about $5-12 USD. The local “hospedajes” (small family run hotels) cost from $19 to $24 USD per night.
Buying Food – If you are looking for a cheap traditional meal you can tons of street stalls from where it’s possible to get a full meal for less than $2 USD. However sit down restaurants in Nicaragua also tend to be quite cheap, offering food between $3-5 USD per dish, some even include a glass of a natural refreshment. Western food such as burgers, salads, or pizza can also be easily found at prices that are usually around $6.50-10 USD per dish.
Transportation – If you are planning to stay within the city you might want to take the bus. They are efficient and extremely inexpensive at just $0.20 USD. Taxis usually cost around $0.75-1.75 USD per person for a short trip. If you are taking buses from one city to the other you might have to pay around $2.75 USD. Expreso buses tend to be about 30% more expensive than ordinario buses.
Disclaimer: This information was accurate at the time the article got edited on November 2016.
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Who painted the picture called 'The Monarch Of The Glen'? | Monarch of the Glen Posters by Edwin Henry Landseer - AllPosters.co.uk
About the Artist
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In Sir Edwin Henry Landseer’s “Monarch of the Glen,” a magnificent buck regally surveys his territory. An exceptional British animal painter, Landseer (1802 – 1873) often endowed his subjects with human traits. The artist created many detailed stag studies inspired by stags he had seen on his frequent visits to Scotland. The image of the stag has been used by Pear’s soap company, John Dewar and Sons distiller and The Hartford Financial Services Group.
Animals display a range of human deep emotions in Sir Edwin Henry Landseer’s sentimental paintings. The English artist (1802 – 1873) was a gifted child who first exhibited at the Royal Academy when he was only 13. Through careful study of dead animals, he was able to paint horses, dogs and deer with incredible precision. During trips to the Scottish Highlands, he found inspiration for his remarkable stag paintings. Widely admired for his work, the painter was elected to the Royal Academy in 1831 and knighted in 1850.
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| Edwin Henry Landseer |
After Everest and K2 (Godwin Austin) which is the third largest mountain on earth? | BBC - Monarch Of The Glen Features - Tales from the Glen - Gallery
Tales from the Glen
There's always been one true star of Monarch of the Glen. Forget the lairds and lassies who have frequented the green fields and luscious lochans of Glenbogle over the course of the last six series. Without a doubt, the scenery around Badenoch and Strathspey is one of the main reasons why the programme is perennially popular. The actors have spoken fondly over the years about the show's true star:The Highlands.
Simone Lahbib, who plays tenant farmer and laird love interest Isobel Anderson, agrees. "Being up in The Highlands, your stress levels totally vanish and your whole rhythm slows down to a pace that is very relaxing. The place kind of wins you over. Standing by the loch and doing a scene surrounded by this beautiful scenery just lifts your heart. It's a pleasure to be able to work in this environment." It's true that the stunning natural beauty of the area has a magic of its own, and the spell cast by the romantic adventures of the Glenbogle estate has touched people from all over the world.
We want your pics! Send in your pictures from your visits to the Highlands and especially to the area where Monarch is filmed. We'll put a selection of the best pictures on this page.
E-mail them to [email protected] with a short description and we'll select the best! These gallery pictures were taken during the filming of the Interactive special of Monarch. Read on to find out more…
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The patio at Glenbogle, otherwise known as Ardverikie House: looking out on a piece of heaven. These snaps were taken by Jim Renwick in an amazing week in September 2004.
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Recognise this tower? A shot of one of the turrets, but there's no sign of Donald and Ewan.
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It truly is the Holy Grail of many a Boglie pilgrimage.
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Despite not showing any sign of Molly and her trowel, the gardens are another amazing place to film.
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Time to leave Ardverikie.
The Highland estate where filming takes place is vast, straddling the Cairngorm National Park and the peaks of the Monadhliath hills, sweeping down to the shores of Loch Laggan below. The house's most famous guest was one Queen Victoria, who stayed in the house in the summer of 1847. The house is famous for having nearly been the monarch's Scottish summer retreat, an honour she bestowed on Balmoral in Deeside. The house in Strathspey
was a contender, however, the wildness of the area was a little too extreme for Victoria. The Queen commented, "There is little to say of our visit to Ardverikie; the country is very fine, but the weather was most dreadful".
Bad weather was not something to be complained about when a crew descended on the Highlands to film a one-off Monarch special in September this year. If you have digital TV and you press your red button after the final episode of the series, on Sunday 21st November you can access this interactive special.
The special programme for digital viewers can be accessed by pressing the red button on the digital remote at the close of episode ten. Also featuring specially shot footage with cast members, in various locations around the estate, the programme will revisit many of the highs and lows, tears and laughter in the company of a host of unforgettable characters - all the elements which have made Monarch such a favourite with viewers over the years.
Take a look at the gallery above to see some exclusive photos from the estate. There's not a rain cloud in sight, so it was probably quite different from when good Queen Vic visited! Sir Edwin Henry Landseer, the artist behind the famous oil painting with stag "The Monarch of the
Glen" also stayed at "Glenbogle House". The painting even hung in the lodge for a while. The world-famous painting of a majestic stag in a wild, romantic Highland setting was based on studies of the dramatic scenery of the Cairngorms.
Compton MacKenzie in turn borrowed the title from Landseer's painting when writing the first in his series of highland novels, upon which the TV series was loosely based. It's ironic that one of the most affectionate chroniclers of Highland lives was actually a Yorkshireman. Born in Hartlepool in 1883, Mackenzie settled on the Isle of Barra in 1928 and wrote prolifically about the characters he encountered in the Highlands and Hebrides. In 1945 he turned his hand to comedy and wrote the comic gems Whisky Galore! in 1947 and Rockets Galore in 1957, both of which were made into successful films. Mackenzie produced m
any highland novels between "Monarch of the Glen" in 1941 and "The Rival Monster" in 1959, on which the television series is loosely based.
Fans' tales from the Glen
Meanwhile, we want your stories from where Monarch is filmed. If you've taken a trip to the north of Scotland or around Strathspey, we want your snaps and your tales from the glen! We've gathered together some photos taken of the Highlands by fans of the programme, and we'd love to see some more. Send in your pictures to [email protected] with your details and a description and the best ones will appear on the site.
Why not take a look at the photos sent in by some fans already? Some photos were taken on the estate, but it must be stressed that it is private land. You cannot take your car past the gatehouse and you must respect the privacy of all those on the estate.
The photo on the left was taken by Melody Taliaferro from Ireland on her trip to Scotland. Melody was delighted by the great weather on her northern jaunt and this is her favourite snap from the trip.
Nancy Morse from Massachusetts in the U.S. stayed a week in Strathspey in the summer of 2003.
She took the stunning picture on the right of Pattack Falls. Nancy says of her trip: "There is just something magical about the whole area. The scenery, as you all well know, is surreal."
So send in your pics and make a date to watch the interactive special after episode ten of the current series of Monarch, on Sunday 21st November 2004.
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Gain an insight into the life of a location manager with our feature: www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/tv/monarch/location.shtml
Michael Chaplin discusses Mackenzie's novels:
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What is the capital of the state of Tennessee? | Capital Cities of Tennessee
Capital Cities of Tennessee
[ Jonesborough ] [ Greeneville ] [ Knoxville ] [ Kingston ] [ Murfreesboro ] [ Nashville ]
Six of Tennessee's cities have served as the capital of the State. Two cities have been the capital more than once, while one city was the capital for only one day. Each of these six cities has had an interesting part to play in the history of Tennessee.
Jonesborough
The oldest city in Tennessee is Jonesborough . Jonesborough was named for Willie Jones, a North Carolina legislator who championed his state's westward movement. Founded in 1779, Jonesborough became the capital of the State of Franklin in December 1784. Franklin functioned as a state until 1788, but was never recognized by Congress. Jonesborough was the first town in Tennessee to be listed on the National Register of Historic Places . Jonesborough is known for its National Storytelling Festival , its International Storytelling Center , and is recognized as the storytelling capital of the world.
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Greeneville
The second capital of the State of Franklin was Greeneville. Greeneville was founded in 1783 and served as the capital of Franklin from 1785-1788. Greeneville was named for Revolutionary War hero Nathanael Greene. The Andrew Johnson National Historic Site is located in Greeneville. There are tours available of Johnson's home and place of burial on Monument Hill in the National Cemetery .
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Knoxville
Knoxville was the capital of the Territory of the United States South of the River Ohio from 1792 until 1796. Knoxville served as the capital of Tennessee on two occasions, the first time from 1796 until 1812 and then a second time from 1817 to 1818. Knoxville was named for Henry Knox, the Secretary of War. The main campus of The University of Tennessee is in Knoxville. Knoxville is the home of the Knoxville Museum of Art and Knoxville Opera and hosts many festivals, most notably, the Dogwood Arts Festival , which began in 1961 after author John Gunther called Knoxville "the ugliest city in America." City officials resolved to change the city's image and began planting dogwood trees. The first trail opened in 1955. In 1982, the Knoxville hosted the World's Fair and celebrated the 25th anniversary of the fair this year.
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Kingston
Kingston was the capital of Tennessee for one day! On September 21, 1807, the Tennessee General Assembly met in Kingston, declared it to be the State's capital, passed one item, and then adjourned. That one item was the acquisition of Cherokee territory that was known as Fort Southwest Point. The Indians had ceded the land around the Fort to the State with the provision that it would be named the State capital, which it was, but only for one day. Before the Indians realized that they had been tricked, the capital was moved back to Knoxville. Kingston was named for landowner Major Robert King.
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Murfreesboro
Murfreesboro was Tennessee's capital city from 1818 until 1826. The capital was moved to the middle of the State as the population moved to the middle and western grand divisions of Tennessee. Murfreesboro was named for Revolutionary War hero Colonel Hardy Murfree. In 1911, Middle Tennessee State University opened in Murfreesboro.
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Nashville
The current capital of Tennessee is Nashville. Nashville/Davidson County has a metropolitan government. This very progressive city is one of the few Tennessee cities that has online city services on its website. The citizens of Metro Nashville enjoy a beautiful downtown public library and the new Schermerhorn Symphony Center . Nashville began as Fort Nashborough in 1779 and was incorporated as the City of Nashville in 1806. Nashville was the capital of Tennessee twice. The first time was from 1812-1817. In 1826, Nashville became the permanent capital of the State of Tennessee. With the arrival of the Grand Old Opry in 1925, Nashville was well on its way to becoming Music City USA .
Email the Nashville Convention and Visitors Bureau: [email protected]
| Nashville, Tennessee |
Which acid is contained in Rhubarb leaves? | About TSU
About TSU
Visit the University
TSU loves parents! And we encourage you to stay involved with your Tennessee State University student. We strive to make the transition to college and beyond flow as smoothly as possible for everyone. We'll keep you up-to-date on campus happenings through a monthly eNewsletter, a helpful Parent Guide and through many other programs and events. We're here to help you and your student make the most out of your TSU experience.
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At Tennessee State University, our blood runs blue! We enjoy connecting, socializing and sharing news about the great things our alumni are doing across the globe. From our annual Homecoming celebration to donor events and volunteer activities, TSU alumni always find time to celebrate what it means to be a Big Blue Tiger. We welcome you back to campus anytime to rekindle your most memorable experiences.
Visit TSU
Welcome to Tennessee State University, located in the heart of Nashville, one of the nation's most progressive cities! Whether you are here for your first visit, planning a campus tour or returning after many years away, TSU welcomes you to enjoy our facilities, hospitality and our unique history and contributions.
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Tennessee State University is proud to have 1,200 distinguished administrators, faculty and staff members as part of our team. With outstanding reputations for teaching, research and service, these professionals make valuable contributions to our community of scholars and ensure that TSU is a thriving public institution of higher learning.
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About TSU
An HBCU Legacy
Tennessee State University is committed to excellence and has been consistently listed in the U.S. News & World Report’s “ Guide to America’s Best Colleges ” for more than a decade. Founded in 1912, TSU is a comprehensive, urban, co-educational, land-grant institution in Nashville, Tennessee. The university has been served by seven presidents, including Dr. Glenda Baskin Glover, who is currently serving as our eighth president.
TWO CAMPUSES
Our Nashville home offers two locations—the 500-acre main campus nestles in a beautiful residential neighborhood along the Cumberland River, and the downtown Avon Williams campus sits near the center of Nashville’s business and government district .
AGRICULTURAL AND INDUSTRIAL NORMAL SCHOOL
In 1909, the Tennessee State General Assembly created three normal schools, including the Agricultural and Industrial Normal School, which would grow to become TSU. The first 247 students began their academic careers on June 19, 1912, and William Jasper Hale served as head of the school. Students, faculty, and staff worked together as a family to keep the institution operating, whether the activity demanded clearing rocks, harvesting crops, or carrying chairs from class to class.
AGRICULTURAL AND INDUSTRIAL STATE NORMAL SCHOOL
The school gained the capacity to grant bachelor’s degrees in 1922, reflecting its new status as a four-year teachers’ college. By 1924, the college became known as the Agricultural and Industrial State Normal College and the first degrees were awarded. In 1927, “Normal” was dropped from the name. Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, the college grew in scope and stature under the charge “Enter to learn; go forth to serve.”
When President Hale retired in 1943 after more than 30 years of service, one of the institution’s growing roster of impressive alumni, Walter S. Davis, was selected as his successor. Until his retirement in 1968, Davis led the college through an era of tremendous growth in academics and facilities that led to worldwide recognition.
The Tennessee General Assembly of 1941 authorized a substantial upgrade to the educational program of the college. Graduate studies leading to the master’s degree, initially offered in several branches of teacher education, were established. The first master’s degrees were awarded in June 1944.
SACS ACCREDITATION
The Southern Association of Colleges and Schools granted accreditation to TSU in 1946. In August 1951, the Tennessee State Board of Education approved university status. The resulting reorganization of the institution’s educational program created the Graduate School, the School of Arts & Sciences, the School of Education, and the School of Engineering. Provisions were also made for the later addition of other schools in agriculture, business, and home economics.
LAND-GRANT UNIVERSITY STATUS
Under the name Tennessee Agricultural & Industrial State University, the institution achieved full land-grant university status in August 1958. The Land-Grant University Program included the School of Agriculture & Home Economics, the Graduate School, the Division of Extension and Continuing Education, and the Department of Aerospace Studies. The School of Allied Health Professions and the School of Business were created in 1974, and the School of Nursing was established in 1979.
NAME CHANGE: TENNESSEE STATE UNIVERSITY
After Walter Davis retired as president in 1968, another TSU alumnus, Andrew Torrence, was named the University’s third president. During his relatively brief tenure, the state legislature dropped “Agricultural & Industrial” and officially changed the name to Tennessee State University.
MERGER WITH UT OF NASHVILLE
When Frederick Humphries became TSU’s president in 1975, Nashville was also home to a second public four-year university. The Knoxville-based University of Tennessee began offering extension credit in Nashville in 1947 and expanded its programs throughout the 1960s. By 1971, it was accredited as a degree-granting institution that occupied new quarters at the corner of Tenth and Charlotte Avenues . But in 1968, TSU faculty member Rita Sanders filed a lawsuit, which became known as Geier v. Tennessee, alleging a dual system of higher education in Tennessee based on race. On July 1, 1979, the case was settled by a court order merging the former University of Tennessee at Nashville with TSU. As president, Humphries was the first to face the challenge of maintaining the balance between TSU’s role as one of America’s preeminent historically black universities and its emerging status as a comprehensive national university.
The Geier v. Tennessee case, however, remained alive for 32 years. Rita Sanders Geier was joined by the U.S. Department of Justice and by TSU professors Ray Richardson and H. Coleman McGinnis as co-plaintiffs in the suit. After numerous court-ordered plans failed to produce progress, all parties achieved a mediated consent decree that was ordered by the court on January 4, 2001.
CAPITAL IMPROVEMENTS AND PROGRESS
Following a year as interim president, Otis Floyd became TSU’s fifth chief executive in 1987 and continued moving the university forward, initiating efforts that resulted in the state general assembly providing an unprecedented $112 million for capital improvements in 1988. Under this plan, nearly all campus buildings were renovated and eight new facilities were constructed, including the Floyd-Payne Campus Center, the Ned McWherter Administration Building, the Wilma Rudolph Residence Center, and the Performing Arts Center.
Then, in 1990, the Tennessee Board of Regents appointed Dr. Floyd its chancellor, opening the way for James Hefner to become TSU’s sixth president in 1991. Hefner supervised additional improvements to campus facilities and fostered enrollment growth to an all-time high of 9,100 students. The Otis Floyd Nursery Crops Research Station in McMinnville was dedicated in 1996, and, in 1999, researchers at the TSU Center for Automated Space Science were the first to discover a planet outside our solar system.
Melvin N. Johnson became the university’s seventh president in June of 2005, and was instrumental in continuing to bring national attention to the university by recognizing the Freedom Riders 14 , engaging the university in the Tennessee Campus Compact, receiving national awards for community service and engagement, awarded $8 million for Race to the Top Funds by
President Obama, opening the university’s doors to flood victims and businesses, and obtaining Community Engagement Classification by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching.
In the University’s 100-year history, Dr. Glenda Baskin Glover became president in January 2013 and continues making changes to further emphasize the excellence for which TSU is known worldwide.
CURRENT OFFERINGS
Today, Tennessee State University offers 45 bachelor’s degree programs and 24 master’s degree programs and awards doctoral degrees in biological sciences, computer information systems engineering, psychology, public administration, curriculum and instruction, educational administration and supervision, and physical therapy. In entirety, Tennessee State University comprises eight colleges and schools .
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In cookery, which vegetable is the basis for 'Soubise Sauce'? | Soubise Sauce
Soubise Sauce
Soubise Sauce is a white sauce in classical French cooking that is mildly onion-flavoured.
It can be used on grilled meat or fish, or served with poultry dishes.
It is based on Béchamel sauce (aka White Sauce.)
Cooking Tips
Make up 2 cups (1 pint / 500ml) of béchamel sauce. Set aside.
Put 1/4 cup (2 oz / 50g) of finely chopped onion in a heat-proof bowl; add some water, and zap in microwave until the onion is softened, making sure the water doesn't boil away on you to dry out or brown the onion (the onion must not brown.) Drain.
Add to béchamel sauce, along with a tablespoon or two of cream. Stir, adjust seasoning to taste. To serve, reheat, then strain out and discard the onion.
History Notes
Reputedly named after Charles de Rohan, Prince de Soubise (1715 to 4 July 1787). He was aide-de-camp to Louis XV and a friend of Madame Pompadour. Soubise is a town in France, in the département called "Charente-Maritime".
Literature & Lore
French Onion Sauce OR Soubise
483. Ingredients - 1/2 pint of Béchamel, No. 367, 1 bay-leaf, seasoning to taste of pounded mace and cayenne, 6 onions, a small piece of ham.
Mode - Peel the onions and cut them in halves; put them in a stewpan, with just sufficient water to cover them, and add the bay-leaf, ham, cayenne, and mace; be careful to keep the lid closely shut, and simmer them until tender. Take them out and drain thoroughly; rub them through a tammy or sieve (an old one does for the purpose) with a wooden spoon, and put them to 1/2 pint of Béchamel; keep stirring over the fire until it boils, when serve. If it should require any more seasoning, add it to taste. Time - 3/4 hour to boil the onions. Average cost, 10d. for this quantity. Sufficient for a moderate-sized dish."
-- Mrs Beeton. 1861.
| The Onion |
On which road in London would you find the Natural History Museum? | Five Sauces Everyone Should Know How to Make for Endless Meal Options
Five Sauces Everyone Should Know How to Make for Endless Meal Options
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"What's for dinner?" might be the most dreaded question of everyday life. Even if you have a ton of ingredients at the ready, you have to figure out what to do with them and, more importantly, whether you can make something you're in the mood for. Learn how to make a few basic sauces, however, and you have flexibility—turn whatever you have on hand into an awesome meal.
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Sauces elevate a meal and make it easy for anyone to turn a bunch of vegetables and proteins into a finished dish with almost no thought. While every cuisine has its own standard sauces and flavor bases, once you know at least a few of them, you can add additional ingredients or flavor accents to expand your meal options. Here are a few to consider.
Bechamel (White Sauce)
Bechamel, a creamy white sauce, is one of the "Mother Sauces" or leading sauces from which all other sauces are born. (Others include veloute, brown sauce/espagnole, and hollaindaise, below.) The Joy of Cooking says:
This French sauce is prized for its unassertive character and smooth texture, which make it the ideal agent to thicken and bind a wide range of dishes and to coat many kinds of foods. Make your béchamel a little thicker than you think it should be, because it is easier to thin it out than to thicken it.
Use béchamel sauce in lasagna, to cook vegetables in a casserole, for mac n' cheese, and pretty much any cheese-based dish. You can substitute vegetable stock instead of the milk for a vegan version. Basically, you moisten white roux (equal parts butter and flour) with milk, salt, an onion with cloves stuck in it, and simmer until it's creamy and smooth. As an alternative, the New York Times offers a healthy version using extra virgin olive oil instead of butter.
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My fellow writer and food lover, Alan Henry also offers these tips:
The trick to a Béchamel is that it can be tricky if you don't control heat, and if you're the type who can't pay attention to one thing in the kitchen at one time, but you start with a roux (flour and butter/lard/shortening), get it nice and blonde (or brown, but usually not), and then add your dairy. Stir for what seems like forever until it thickens up and smoothes out, and you're set. Try making a Béchamel with bacon fat. It'll change your life.
Veloute
It has a fancy name, but veloute is basically like béchamel, only instead of milk you make it with a light-colored stock (chicken, fish, or vegetable stock). It's really versatile, since you can use this sauce with any protein or just vegetables (and you can add mushrooms, shallots, and or white wine for more variations).
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The video above from Everoneitalian.com shows you how easy it is to make. Mix 2 sticks of butter with about a cup and a half of flour to make the roux, and then add 3 cups of chicken stock.
For a Chinese version (great for stir frying or fried rice), check out this video from the Art of Cooking .
Espagnol (Brown Sauce)
This is basically a simple brown gravy that can form the basis for steak sauce, mushroom sauces, madeira, and more. Like the sauces above, you use equal parts butter and flour (or try making it with bacon fat instead of butter!). Then add mirepoix—onions, carrots, and celery—and stir in tomatoes and beef stock.
There are lots of other ways to make brown sauce, but you get the idea. If you just want a quick sauce, however, consider just making a simple gravy from the pan drippings. As Alan says:
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We talk a lot about how to make the perfect steak—why let all of those delicious brown bits on the pan go to waste? Add some fat like butter, a little flour to thicken, salt and pepper, and something to deglaze the pan like wine, balsamic vinegar, or sherry (or any other cooking wine). Scrub up those brown bits and stir until it's all smooth, and you're good to go. Honestly, I could go on about the myriad ways to make simple pan gravy—everyone should do it at least once, if they haven't already for Thanksgiving or something. It's easy and super-fast, especially if you've already fried or cooked something in the pan, or you've roasted something and have drippings to spare!
Or, as the Reluctant Gourmet advises, make a brown sauce base quickly using demi-glace, a shallot, and red wine.
Marinara Sauce
A basic spaghetti sauce, as we've mentioned before , not only is fundamental for many Italian dishes, it's also a great way to learn basic cooking techniques. This is Chef Anthony Thomas' roasted garlic and spaghetti sauce recipe , but again, there are tons of variations on this classic, which is part of what makes it so useful to know how to make. Above is Giada BKSP.de Laurentiis made-from-scratch, in-under-30-minutes instructions. (I'm a big fan of the Pioneer Woman's version , even though—gasp!—she uses a jar of premade sauce.)
Whether you have trouble boiling water or you know your way around an immersion circulator, there… Read more Read more
Garlic Sauce
Here's a simple sauce for garlic lovers. It's similar to a mayonnaise (which many consider an essential sauce), but lighter. Tony Tahhan says Arabs call it toum (toum being the Arabic word for garlic) and offers this simple recipe . You can make it with just garlic, lemon juice, and oil or, as the recipe shows, add egg white. Try it on grilled chicken, potatoes, or just about anything you would put mayo on.
Of course, these five sauces are only scratching the surface of what you can learn and there are many other cuisines to explore. (Mexican mole, Thai peanut sauce, Indian curries, Chinese curries to name a few. Here are 12 more , including hummus, nut sauce, and pestos.) Keep the pantry staples on hand to make these sauces, however, and you can make an array of delicious food. (Don't forget you can make your own Sriracha too and transform even bottled barbecue sauce by adding additional ingredients .)
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'Baron Hardup' is a character in which pantomime? | Cinderella
Cinderella
To order scripts ISBN 1-873855-14-1 Cast List Scenes Extract Notes
Introduction
A pantomime written in a traditional style, but at the same time refreshingly different, Cinderella treats your cast to some well made characters and dialogue, and conspires to involve your audience to the maximum.
There are many opportunities for song and dance, including 23 suggested titles, and plenty of scope for including an undefined number of senior and junior chorus members in the show.
Principals: Male 6, Female 6, Indeterminate 2
© John Owen Smith 1989
Gloria, her sister - a bad, but incompetent Fairy
Puck, a peripatetic Pixie
Elves, Imps, Fairies, etc. (junior chorus)
The Mortals:
Cinderella, his daughter by his first wife (principal girl)
Petunia & Nasturtium (Petty & Nasty), Ugly Sisters, imported daughters of his second wife
Griselda, their mother and the Baron's second wife
Buttons, the Baron's handyman
The Prince Charming, heir to the throne of Concordia (principal boy)
Dandini, Aide to the Prince
Coachman
The Prologue - Puck's Piece (Front of Tabs)
Scene 1 - A Street in the Town (Full Set)
Scene 2a - Gloria's grotto (Half Set)
Scene 2b - A Room in the Palace (Front of Tabs)
Scene 4a - In the Fairy Glen (Half Set)
Scene 4b - Another Street in the Town (Front of Tabs)
Scene 5 - Back in Baron Hardup's Kitchen (Full Set)
**** INTERVAL ****
The Interlogue - Gloria's grotto (Half Set)
Scene 1 - At the Ball in the Palace (Full Set)
Scene 2a - The Rumour Scene (Front of Tabs)
Scene 2b - In the Fairy Glen Again (Half Set)
Scene 3 - Again in Baron Hardup's Kitchen (Full Set)
Scene 4 - Community Song (Front of Tabs)
Scene 5 - In the Palace again (Full Set)
Extract from Act I Scene 3
Squire What have we come for Baldock?
Baldock Two asses, Squire.
Squire Two asses? What are you talking about?
Baldock That's what it says here - you wrote it, look - "Two asses".
Squire Give me that, let's have a look! "To assess", you ass, "To assess"! Two asses indeed! We know where one of them is, don't we!
Baldock It's your writing, Squire.
Squire It's your education you mean. You're incompetent Baldock, what are you?
Baldock Income bent, Squire.
Squire Bent! Yes, you're probably that too. (To Buttons and Cinders) We're here to assess the assets, calculate the cash, work out the wealth, list the lot and tot up the total.
Cinders Well, of all the cheek!
Buttons There's not a lot to tot!
Squire We'll see.
Squire (To Baldock) You start upstairs, Baldock, and I'll start down-stairs.
Baldock Upstairs. Righto, Squire. (Baldock exits upstage left)
Buttons You'd better start through here, (guides Squire upstage right), but I'm afraid it won't take you long. (Squire exits upstage right)
Buttons (To Cinders) Now, where were we?
Cinders About to make supper.
Buttons Right, well let's get on with it before the Squire ... (he is interrupted by shrieks and horrendous screams from upstairs). Oh my goodness, what's happened now?
Cinders I think Baldock's just found Daddy's hidden assets!
(The Ugly Sisters rush on from upstage left)
Nasty There's a man in my room!
Petty And mine!
Cinders He can't be in both at the same time.
Nasty There I was embroiled in my boudoir, when this fearsome face leered round the door at me.
Buttons Poor fellow!
Petty And I was in the middle of my make-up when the monster appeared in my mirror!
Buttons I wonder he survived!
Nasty What's he up to, that's what I'd like to know.
Petty Up to no good, I'll be bound.
Nasty Fancy, just barging in on us like that - two defenceless females. I mean, anything might have happened.
Buttons Unlikely, I would say.
Producer's Notes
This pantomime uses three different full set scenes, separated by half set or front of curtain scenes to allow for backstage activity.
Directions given are those used in the original production, but use your imagination according to the facilities available to you. (In the event, we didn't fly Puck out of the Prologue!).
A list of songs used in the original production is included for your guidance. Where special words were written (eg. for the inevitable "Sisters"), these are also included. But again, use your imagination and feel free to use whatever seems to fit, or whatever your pianist and performers can handle! We were lucky in both.
In our shows we like to get in among the audience as much as possible. We had a number of cast entrances coming through the auditorium, and of course the Rumour Scene gives a further opportunity for mayhem!
I used the general convention that immortals speak in rhyme and mortals in prose; "In Pantomimes that's how it goes", says Gloria. Of course this leads to interesting problems if mortals and immortals speak to each other, as when Cinders meets the Fairy Godmother in disguise. I hope I have resolved this reasonably successfully. You will also see Griselda slipping from mortality to immortality as Gloria's potion starts to work!
I also put the transformation scene just before the interval, not only to leave the audience in a state of wonder while they drink insipid coffee, but also to allow us to clear the smoke from the stage! (If you can arrange to do the transformations without generating smoke, fine!).
So good luck with your show. Put in local variations as you wish, and if you think you can improve on the verse then do that too! Have fun - otherwise, why do it?
P.S. Of course if you're not doing Robin Hood next year, you may want to change Gladys's last lines!
| Cinderella |
Which British city is served by 'Abbotsinch Airport'? | Cinderella Pantomime Sample - YouTube
Cinderella Pantomime Sample
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Uploaded on Sep 10, 2010
Sample of my acting and dancing as the character "Baron Hardup" (Cinderella's Father) from the pantomime "Cinderella" from christmas 09
Also used as a butlins audition video from earlier this year
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Which musical contains the songs 'True Love' and 'Well Did You Ever'? | Bing Crosby & Frank Sinatra - Well, Did You Evah (High Society) - YouTube
Bing Crosby & Frank Sinatra - Well, Did You Evah (High Society)
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Uploaded on Feb 5, 2009
Aus dem Film "Die oberen Zehntausend" (High Society).
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| High society |
Who composed the coronation anthem 'Zadok The Priest'? | High Society "Did you ever?" - Frank Sinatra & Bing Crosby - YouTube
High Society "Did you ever?" - Frank Sinatra & Bing Crosby
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Uploaded on Aug 9, 2007
Last movie of Grace Kelly "High Society". Bing Crosby sings in the bar with Frank Sinatra while they drink champaigne!
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Which car company produces the 'Yaris' model? | About Toyota
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Toyota is a Japanese brand whose refined, well-designed vehicles have earned it a great deal of popularity. Toyotas also have a superb record for reliability and durability, which goes a long way toward justifying their typically high purchase prices. For buyers who plan on owning their new vehicles for a long...
Read more Toyota history
Toyota is a Japanese brand whose refined, well-designed vehicles have earned it a great deal of popularity. Toyotas also have a superb record for reliability and durability, which goes a long way toward justifying their typically high purchase prices. For buyers who plan on owning their new vehicles for a long time, the Toyota marque is a very compelling choice.
The automaker's name is a variation of the surname of its founder, Kiichiro Toyoda. After years of research, Toyoda unveiled his first prototype, the A1, in 1935, marking the birth of the Toyota Motor Corporation. The '40s witnessed the launch of additional passenger cars and even a pickup. By the end of the decade, the automaker had produced more than 100,000 vehicles.
Toyota grew bigger in the '50s and expanded its roster with a slew of new small cars. The company also unveiled the utilitarian BJ truck; this vehicle was the precursor to the Land Cruiser. By the end of the decade, Toyota had commenced exports to the U.S. with the establishment of Toyota Motor Sales U.S.A., Inc. The first Toyota to be sold on American shores was the Crown; it held the distinction of being the first Japanese car to be sold Stateside.
The '60s witnessed even more growth for the emerging juggernaut. Toyota introduced the Corolla, an immensely popular model that is still in production today. Vehicles like the home-market Publica, the 2000GT, Hiace and Miniace were also launched. The decade closed with Toyota reporting annual domestic sales of 1 million units; cumulative exports also reached 1 million.
Japanese-market cars like the Carina, Light Ace and Publica Starlet were launched during the 1970s. In the States, the Corolla grew in popularity and the Corona and Mk II models debuted as well. The successful Celica sports coupe was also rolled out and would remain in production for more than 30 years. Toyota's shadow had spread far beyond Japan by this point. The decade's oil crisis had made the manufacturer's compact, fuel-efficient models more popular than ever in the United States. By the time the '70s drew to a close, the automaker had exported more than 10 million vehicles.
Toyota expanded its presence in the U.S. market during the '80s, with the introduction of popular models like the 4Runner SUV and the MR2 sports car. The true high point of these years, though, was the birth of the Toyota Camry sedan. Originally known as the Celica Camry in Japan, the car went on to be a hit of phenomenal proportions, earning kudos as America's best-selling car of the year time and time again.
During the '90s, Toyota rolled out the Avalon full-size sedan and expanded its selection of SUVs with the compact RAV4. By the end of the decade, more than 100 million Toyota vehicles had been produced in Japan. The company also proved itself on the cutting edge of new technology with the rollout of the Prius, the world's first mass-produced hybrid. The car debuted in Japan in 1997; by 2001, the fuel-sipping sedan had made its way to American highways. Despite the presence of a growing number of competitors in its segment, the Prius continues to boast class-leading sales.
Toyota's current lineup is relatively extensive, including minivans, cars, trucks and SUVs. The brand remains extremely popular among savvy consumers who place a high value on quality and dependability.
Hide Toyota History
| Toyota |
The 'Dalada Maligawa' in Kandy, Sri Lanka, houses what sacred relic reputed to have belonged to Buddha? | New Toyota Cars For Sale | New Car Prices
©2017 Toyota Motor Sales, U.S.A., Inc. All information applies to U.S. vehicles only.
[#] View All Disclosures
MSRP excludes the Delivery, Processing and Handling Fee of $865 for Cars, $940 for Small/Medium Trucks (Sienna, RAV4 Gas, RAV4 Hybrid, Highlander Gas, Highlander Hybrid, 4Runner and Tacoma), $1,095 for Large SUVs (Sequoia, Land Cruiser), and $1,195 for Large Truck (Tundra). (Historically, vehicle manufacturers and distributors have charged a separate fee for processing, handling and delivering vehicles to dealerships. Toyota's charge for these services is called the "Delivery, Processing and Handling Fee" and is based on the value of the processing, handling and delivery services Toyota provides as well as Toyota's overall pricing structure. Toyota may make a profit on the Delivery, Processing and Handling Fee.) Excludes taxes, license, title and available or regionally required equipment. The Delivery, Processing and Handling Fee in AL, AR, FL, GA, LA, MS, NC, OK, SC and TX will be higher. Actual dealer price will vary.
2016 EPA-estimated city/highway mileage. Actual mileage will vary.
2017 EPA-estimated city/highway mileage. Actual mileage will vary.
2017 Prius Prime EPA-estimated combined mpg. Actual mpg will vary based on driving habits, weather, temperature and road/traffic conditions. For more information on mpg, please see www.fueleconomy.gov .
2017 Prius Prime EPA-estimated combined MPGe. Actual MPGe will vary and is dependent upon many factors, including charging practice, driving style, road/traffic conditions, outside temperature, air conditioning control levels, payload/cargo weight, proper tire pressure, vehicle maintenance, battery age and changes in energy costs. Battery capacity will decrease with time and use. For more information on MPGe and range, please see fueleconomy.gov
2016 EPA-estimated 67 city/67 highway/67 combined MPGe for Mirai and 312-mile driving range. Actual mileage will vary. Range measurement pursuant to SAE J2601 standards (ambient temperature: 20°C; hydrogen tank pressure when fueled: 70 MPa). Fueling time varies with hydrogen fueling pressure and ambient temperature.
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Which 16 year-old in 2002 became the youngest ever winner of the 'Rear Of The Year' award? | Carol Vorderman wins Rear of the Year again | Metro UK
Carol Vorderman wins Rear of the Year again
Wednesday 23 Jul 2014 1:00 am
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice.
Previous winners include the former Arsenal footballer Ian Wright , Shobna Gulati, John Barrowman, Charlotte Church and politician Harriet Harman .
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice, seen at Embankment Gardens in London. Ian West/PA Wire
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice, seen at Embankment Gardens in London.
TV Presenter Carol Vorderman and Strictly Come Dancing star Anton du Beke, 2011 winners of the annual Wizard jeans Rear of the Year award
Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace
Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace
Welcome to our Rear of the Year hall of fame which is literally a gallery of winners through the years and is a load of bums really. Shobna Gulati and John Barrowman are unveiled as having the Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
Shobna Gulati is unveiled as having the female Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
John Barrowman is unveiled as having the male Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
And the 2011 Rear of the year award goes to…….. Please see next picture
Model Anna Taverner hijacks the Rear of the Year photocall to promote Playboy TV’s new channel Climax 3. Alex Best was announced as the Matalan Rear of the Year 2004 at The Savoy Hotel in central London Wednesday 19 May 2004. Alex Best and radio personality Aled Haydn-Jones proved they have the best behinds in the business by winning this year’s Rear of the Year award today. Former I’m a Celebrity … contestant Alex’s win comes after she survived her jungle ordeal in a selection of skimpy outfits. The 32-year-old’s award-winning rear also caught the eye of fellow contestant Lord Brocket.
The 2010 winner Fiona Bruce
Charlotte Church in 2002, after being announced as the winner of the “Rear of the Year 2002”. Sixteen-year-old Church is the youngest ever winner of the award.
Yes, it’s a fact: Deputy Prime minister Harriet Harman looks puzzled
Cheeky Denise Van Outen was the last century’s winner in 1999
Carol Smillie and Frank Skinner celebrate after winning the ‘Rear of the Year’ 1998 award.
Miss Barbara Windsor puts her bottom in the limelight
Rear of the year Ian Wright
Rear of the year
| Charlotte Church |
Under whose command did the 'ever-victorious army' play a part in putting down the 'Taiping Rebellion' in 1864? | Carol Vorderman wins Rear of the Year again | Metro UK
Carol Vorderman wins Rear of the Year again
Wednesday 23 Jul 2014 1:00 am
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice.
Previous winners include the former Arsenal footballer Ian Wright , Shobna Gulati, John Barrowman, Charlotte Church and politician Harriet Harman .
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice, seen at Embankment Gardens in London. Ian West/PA Wire
Carol Vorderman has become the first woman to win the Rear Of The Year Title twice, seen at Embankment Gardens in London.
TV Presenter Carol Vorderman and Strictly Come Dancing star Anton du Beke, 2011 winners of the annual Wizard jeans Rear of the Year award
Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace
Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace
Welcome to our Rear of the Year hall of fame which is literally a gallery of winners through the years and is a load of bums really. Shobna Gulati and John Barrowman are unveiled as having the Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
Shobna Gulati is unveiled as having the female Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
John Barrowman is unveiled as having the male Wizard Jeans Rear Of the Year 2012
And the 2011 Rear of the year award goes to…….. Please see next picture
Model Anna Taverner hijacks the Rear of the Year photocall to promote Playboy TV’s new channel Climax 3. Alex Best was announced as the Matalan Rear of the Year 2004 at The Savoy Hotel in central London Wednesday 19 May 2004. Alex Best and radio personality Aled Haydn-Jones proved they have the best behinds in the business by winning this year’s Rear of the Year award today. Former I’m a Celebrity … contestant Alex’s win comes after she survived her jungle ordeal in a selection of skimpy outfits. The 32-year-old’s award-winning rear also caught the eye of fellow contestant Lord Brocket.
The 2010 winner Fiona Bruce
Charlotte Church in 2002, after being announced as the winner of the “Rear of the Year 2002”. Sixteen-year-old Church is the youngest ever winner of the award.
Yes, it’s a fact: Deputy Prime minister Harriet Harman looks puzzled
Cheeky Denise Van Outen was the last century’s winner in 1999
Carol Smillie and Frank Skinner celebrate after winning the ‘Rear of the Year’ 1998 award.
Miss Barbara Windsor puts her bottom in the limelight
Rear of the year Ian Wright
Rear of the year
| i don't know |
Sarah the mother of Isaac was the wife of which Biblical patriarch? | Sarah | Define Sarah at Dictionary.com
Sarah
the wife of Abraham and mother of Isaac. Gen. 17:15–22.
2.
Examples from the Web for Sarah
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British Dictionary definitions for Sarah
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(Old Testament) the wife of Abraham and mother of Isaac (Genesis 17:15–22)
Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012
Word Origin and History for Sarah
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fem. proper name, Biblical wife of Abraham and mother of Isaac, from Hebrew, literally "princess," from sarah, fem. of sar "prince," from sarar "he ruled," related to Akkad. sharratu "queen." Popular as a name for girls born in U.S. in 1870s and 1978-2000.
Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper
Sarah in the Bible
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princess, the wife and at the same time the half-sister of Abraham (Gen. 11:29; 20:12). This name was given to her at the time that it was announced to Abraham that she should be the mother of the promised child. Her story is from her marriage identified with that of the patriarch till the time of her death. Her death, at the age of one hundred and twenty-seven years (the only instance in Scripture where the age of a woman is recorded), was the occasion of Abraham's purchasing the cave of Machpelah as a family burying-place. In the allegory of Gal. 4:22-31 she is the type of the "Jerusalem which is above." She is also mentioned as Sara in Heb. 11:11 among the Old Testament worthies, who "all died in faith." (See ABRAHAM .)
Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary
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Which European city was known as Vindobone by the Romans? | Spiritual Life:Sarah: Hoping Against Hope
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By faith Sarah herself also received strength to conceive seed, and she bore a child when she was past the age, because she judged Him faithful who had promised (Hebrews 11:11 NKJV).
Let’s be honest: there are times in the biblical account when Sarah comes off as a bit of a shrew. She was the wife of the great patriarch Abraham, so we tend to think of her with a degree of dignity and honor. But reading the biblical account of her life, it is impossible not to notice that she sometimes behaved badly. She could throw fits and tantrums. She knew how to be manipulative. And she was even known to get mean. At one time or another, she exemplified almost every trait associated with the typical caricature of a churlish woman. She could be impatient, temperamental, conniving, cantankerous, cruel, flighty, pouty, jealous, erratic, unreasonable, a whiner, a complainer, or a nag. By no means was she always the perfect model of godly grace and meekness.
In fact, there are hints that she may have been something of a pampered beauty; a classic prima donna. The name given to her at birth, Sarai, means “my princess.” (Her name was not changed to Sarah until she was ninety years old, according to Genesis 17:15.) Scripture remarks repeatedly about how stunningly attractive she was. Wherever she went, she instantly received favor and privilege because of her good looks. That kind of thing can spoil the best of women.
By the way, the biblical account of Sarah’s life doesn’t really even begin until she was already sixty-five years old. Amazingly, even at that age, her physical beauty was so remarkable that Abraham regularly assumed other powerful men would want her for their harems. And he was right. First a pharaoh, then a king, not realizing she was Abraham’s wife, had designs on obtaining her as a wife. To this day, Sarah is remembered for her legendary beauty. A famous Moslem tradition teaches that Sarah resembled Eve. (That is especially significant in light of another Moslem tradition, which says Allah gave Eve two-thirds of all beauty, and then divided what remained of beauty among all other women.) But it’s not necessary to embellish Sarah’s glamour with fables. From the biblical account alone, it is clear that she was an extraordinarily beautiful woman.
From the time she became Abraham’s wife, Sarah desired one thing above all others, and that was to have children. But she was barren throughout her normal childbearing years. In fact, that is practically the first thing Scripture mentions about her. After recording that Abraham took her as a wife in Genesis 11:29, verse 30 says, “But Sarai was barren; she had no child” (NKJV).
She was obviously tortured by her childlessness. Every recorded episode of ill temper or strife in her household was related to her frustrations about her own barrenness. It ate at her. She spent years in the grip of frustration and depression because of it. She desperately wanted to be a mother, but she finally concluded that God Himself was restraining her from having children (Gen. 16:2). So badly did she want her husband to have an heir that she concocted a scheme that was immoral, unrighteous, and utterly foolish. She rashly persuaded Abraham to father a child by her own housemaid.
Predictably, the consequences of such a carnal ploy nearly tore her life apart and seemed to leave a lasting scar on her personality. Her bitterness seethed for thirteen years, and she finally insisted that Abraham throw the other woman out, along with the child he had fathered by her. Sarah’s faults are obvious enough. She was certainly fallen. Her faith, at times, grew weak. Her own heart sometimes led her astray. Those shortcomings were conspicuous and undeniable. If those things were all we knew about Sarah, we might be tempted to picture her as something of a battle-ax—a harsh, severe woman, relentlessly self-centered and temperamental. She wasn’t always the kind of person who naturally evokes our sympathy and understanding.
Fortunately, there was much more to Sarah than that. She had important strengths as well as glaring weaknesses. Scripture actually commends her for her faith and steadfastness. The apostle Peter pointed to her as the very model of how every wife should submit to her husband’s headship. Although there were those terrible flashes of petulance and even cruelty (reminders that Sarah was an embattled, fleshly creature like us), Sarah’s life on the whole is actually characterized by humility, meekness, hospitality, faithfulness, deep affection for her husband, sincere love toward God, and hope that never died.
A study in contrasts and contradictions, Sarah was indeed one extraordinary woman.
Although she gave birth to only one son and didn’t become a mother at all until she was well past the normal age of fertility, she is the principal matriarch in Hebrew history. Although her enduring faithfulness to her husband was one of the most exemplary aspects of her character, the most notorious blunder of her life involved an act of gross unfaithfulness. She sometimes vacillated, but she ultimately persevered against unbelievable obstacles, and the steadfastness of her faith became the central feature of her legacy. In fact, the New Testament enshrines her in the Hall of Faith: “because she judged Him faithful who had promised” (Heb. 11:11 NKJV).
The full spectacle of Sarah’s amazing faith doesn’t really become apparent until we contemplate the many seemingly insurmountable obstacles to that faith.
HER BACKGROUND IN UR OF THE CHALDEANS
Sarah was half-sister to her husband, Abraham. In Genesis 20:12, Abraham describes for King Abimelech his relationship with his wife: “She is truly my sister. She is the daughter of my father, but not the daughter of my mother; and she became my wife” (NKJV). Terah was father to both of them, Sarah being ten years younger than Abraham (Gen. 17:17). We’re not told the names of either of their mothers.
Incidentally, that kind of half-sibling marital relationship was not deemed incestuous in Abraham’s time. Abraham’s brother, Nahor, married a niece; and both Isaac and Jacob married cousins. Such marriages to close relatives were not the least bit unusual or scandalous in the patriarchal era—nor in previous times extending all the way back to creation. Obviously, since Adam and Eve were the only humans God originally created, it would have been absolutely essential in the beginning for some of Adam’s offspring to wed their own siblings.
Scripture made no prohibition against consanguine marriages (matrimony between close relatives) until well after Abraham’s time. No doubt one of the main reasons the Lord ultimately forbid the practice was because of the accumulation of genetic mutations in the human gene pool. When you begin with two genetically perfect creatures, there is no risk of any hereditary defects. Only gradually did the dangers associated with inbreeding arise. Therefore, no legal prohibition against incest even existed until the time of Moses. Then Leviticus 18:6–18 and 20:17–21 explicitly forbade several kinds of incest, including marriage between half-siblings. But the patriarchs should not be evaluated by laws that were only handed down many generations later. It was no sin for Abraham to take Sarah as his wife.
Scripture says virtually nothing about their early years of marriage. In fact, all we know about that era in their lives is the bitter truth that perpetually grated on Sarah’s own consciousness: “Sarai was barren; she had no child” (Gen. 11:30 NKJV). That one statement sums up everything Scripture has to say about the first sixty-five years of Sarah’s life! It is no wonder if she occasionally exhibited flashes of frustration and resentment.
Notice that the biblical account of Abraham’s life likewise doesn’t really begin until he was seventy-five. All we are told is that he had been born and raised in Sumeria, lower Mesopotamia, near the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. (That’s close to the head of the Persian Gulf in a region that is part of present-day Iraq.) Abraham’s hometown was a famous urban center known as Ur of the Chaldeans.
Ur was the heart of a sophisticated pagan culture. Sarah and Abraham would have lived there during the very height of its power and affluence. The city government was a superstitious theocracy supposedly under the Babylonian moon god. (This was the same culture that built the famous ziggurats, those massive terraced towers upon which pagan temples were set.)
Abraham, of course, was a worshiper of YHWH. His knowledge of the true God was probably passed down to him by way of his ancestors. After all, Abraham was only a ninth-generation descendent from Shem, son of Noah.
It is obvious that the world cultures of Abraham’s time were highly paganized. Going back even before the tower of Babel episode, love for the truth had obviously been in sharp decline for many generations. By the time Abraham came on the scene, idolatrous worship thoroughly dominated every world culture.
But there was still a scattered remnant of true believers. It is entirely likely that dispersed here and there among the world’s population were faithful families who still knew and worshiped YHWH, having maintained their faith across the generations from Noah’s time. For example, judging from details given in the book of Job, including the length of Job’s lifespan, Job was probably a close contemporary of Abraham’s. Job and his friends (lousy counselors though they were) had a thorough familiarity with the God of their ancestors. They lived in the land of Uz. The precise location of Uz is not certain, but it was clearly in the Middle East ( Jer. 25:20)—yet not in the vicinity of Ur of the Chaldeans, where Abraham’s family lived. So the remnant who still worshiped YHWH were not confined to any single location or limited to any one family.
In fact, in the biblical account of Abraham’s life, we are also introduced to Melchizedek (Gen. 14:18). He represented an order of itinerant priests who knew the one true God and served Him. Abraham met Melchizedek somewhere in the Dead Sea region. Clearly, a few diverse remnants of faithful YHWH worship did still exist in Abraham’s time.
The Lord’s purpose in choosing and calling Abraham was to make him the father of a great nation that would be His witness to the world. That nation, Israel, would be formally covenanted with YHWH. Through them, the truth would be kept alive and preserved in perpetuity. Scripture says “the oracles of God” were committed to them (Rom. 3:2 NKJV). In other words, from the nation that came out of Abraham, prophets would arise. Through them the Scriptures would be given to the world. God would dwell in their midst and set His sanctuary among them. By their lineage a Deliverer, the Messiah, would arise. And in Him, all the nations of the world would be blessed (Gen. 18:18).
Sarah obviously had a key role to play in this plan. Abraham could never become the patriarch of a great nation if she did not first become mother to his offspring. She was surely aware of the Lord’s promises to Abraham. She certainly would have longed to see those promises fulfilled. As long as she remained childless, however, the sense that everything somehow hinged on her must have pressed on her like a great burden on her shoulders.
HER JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF PROMISE
Apparently, while Abraham was still a young man living in Ur, the Lord spoke to him, saying, “Get out of your country, from your family and from your father’s house, to a land that I will show you” (Gen. 12:1 NKJV).
Abraham obeyed, and Hebrews 11:8 expressly commends him for his obedience: “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to the place which he would receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going” (NKJV). But the journey was long and slow. It appears Abraham did not immediately separate from his family and his father’s house. Instead, he took his father with him. Abraham may have been somewhat reluctant at first to sever the parental apron strings.
In fact, as Scripture recounts the first leg of the move from Ur of the Chaldeans, it appears that Abraham’s father, Terah, was still acting as head of the extended family. “Terah took his son Abram and his grandson Lot, the son of Haran, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, his son Abram’s wife, and they went out with them from Ur of the Chaldeans to go to the land of Canaan; and they came to Haran and dwelt there” (Gen. 11:31 NKJV). Clearly, Terah was still in charge. Scripture portrays him as the leader of the journey, with Abraham, Sarah, and Lot in tow.
But the first long leg of the journey stalled at Haran, about 650 miles northwest, roughly following the course of the Euphrates. Perhaps Terah was too old to travel anymore. We don’t know how long Abraham and Sarah remained in Haran. But they did not get moving again until Terah died, and that was evidently some time. Scripture says Terah was more than two hundred years old when he died, and Abraham was seventy-five when he finally left Haran for the promised land.
That means Sarah was now sixty-five, the exact age most people today think is ideal for retirement. Sarah was by no means a young woman, even by the standards of the patriarchal era, when people obviously lived much longer and remained agile, healthy, and vigorous well past their sixties. The life of a nomad would be hard for anyone at sixty-five. And yet there is no sign whatsoever that she was reluctant or unwilling to go with Abraham to a land neither of them had ever seen.
In fact, what we know of Sarah suggests that far from complaining, she went eagerly, gladly, and enthusiastically with Abraham. She was utterly and completely devoted to her husband. Knowing that God wanted to make him the father of a great nation, she earnestly longed to give birth to the child who would set that whole process in motion.
Leaving Haran after burying his father, Abraham still had quite a large caravan. Scripture tells us, “Abram took Sarai his wife and Lot his brother’s son, and all their possessions that they had gathered, and the people whom they had acquired in Haran, and they departed to go to the land of Canaan. So they came to the land of Canaan” (Gen. 12:5 NKJV).
That account suggests the final leg of the journey to Canaan was direct and uninterrupted. It was some 350 miles on foot (making the total journey from Ur more than a thousand miles). With a large caravan, moving a reasonable distance of eight to ten miles in a typical day, the trip from Haran to Canaan would have required only about six or seven weeks. Abraham seems not to have stopped until he reached Bethel, a fertile area with abundant springs.
Abraham’s first act upon arrival there was the building of a stone altar. At that time, the Lord also appeared to Abraham. He expanded His original promises to Abraham, now adding that He would give all the surrounding land to Abraham’s descendants. Although Abraham and Sarah remained nomads and vagabonds for the remainder of their days, this place and its altar remained their anchor. (This was also the very same place where Abraham’s grandson Jacob would later be visited by YHWH and have that famous dream about a ladder that reached to heaven.)
But circumstances quickly forced Abraham to keep moving south. “There was a famine in the land, and Abram went down to Egypt to dwell there, for the famine was severe in the land” (Gen. 12:10 NKJV). It was there, for the first time, that Abraham tried to pass Sarah off as his sister. He did this out of fear that if Pharaoh knew she was his wife, he would kill Abraham in order to have Sarah. Abraham’s great faith wavered somewhat at this point. He succumbed to the fear of men. Had he simply trusted God, God would have protected Sarah (as He did in the end anyway).
But Scripture says that before they even entered Egypt, Abraham discussed with Sarah the dangers this place posed for a man with a beautiful wife. “When the Egyptians see you . . . they will say, ‘This is his wife’; and they will kill me, but they will let you live,” he told her (Gen. 12:12 NKJV). And so at Abraham’s suggestion, she agreed to pose as his sister (v. 13). Abraham’s motives were selfish and cowardly, and the scheme reflected a serious weakness in his faith. But Sarah’s devotion to her husband is nonetheless commendable, and God honored her for it.
Stewards of Pharaoh saw her, pointed her out to Pharaoh, and brought her to his house. Scripture says Pharaoh showed favor to “brother” Abraham for Sarah’s sake, lavishing him with livestock, apparently in anticipation of requesting her hand in marriage (v. 16). Meanwhile, by God’s providence, Pharaoh did not violate her (v. 19). And to see that he did not, the Lord troubled Pharaoh’s house with “great plagues” (v. 17 NKJV).
Somehow Pharaoh discovered the reason for the plagues, and he confronted Abraham with the deception, expelling the patriarch and his wife from Egypt (Gen. 12:19–20). Nonetheless, Pharaoh, preoccupied with more pressing things, did no harm to either of them, and when Abraham left Egypt, Pharaoh’s favor toward Sarah had made Abraham a very wealthy man (Gen. 13:2). He and Sarah returned to Bethel, “to the place of the altar which he had made there at first. And there Abram called on the name of the LORD” (13:4 NKJV).
Henceforth, the Lord himself would be their dwelling place. Together, they “dwelt in the land of promise as in a foreign country, dwelling in tents . . . [while they] waited for the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God” (Heb. 11:9–10 NKJV). That is as good a summary as any of the earthly life Sarah inherited when she stepped out in faith to follow her husband: earthly inconvenience, mitigated by the promise of eternal blessing.
HER YEARNING FOR THE PROMISED BLESSING
Remember, Abraham and Sarah both came from an urban environment. They were not, as is commonly supposed, lifetime nomads or Bedouins who simply wandered all their lives because that is all they knew. Bear in mind that they did not start wandering until Abraham was already in his mid-seventies and Sarah was only a decade behind that. Life on the road was not something Sarah was accustomed to; it was something she had to learn to embrace.
What energized Sarah’s willingness to leave all familiar surroundings, sever ties with her family, and commit to a life of rootless wandering?
Notice the nature of the vast promise God had made to Abraham: “I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great; and you shall be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and I will curse him who curses you; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen. 12:2–3 NKJV). That is the first recorded hint of the Abrahamic Covenant, a formal pledge God made to Abraham and to his offspring forever. God’s promise was unconditional and literally unlimited in the scope of its blessings. God would bless Abraham, make him a blessing, and make him a vehicle through which blessing would come to the whole world (Gal. 3:9–14). The promised blessing even had eternal implications.
In other words, redemption from sin and the means of salvation from divine judgment were part and parcel of the promise (Gal. 3:8, 16–17). Sarah understood that promise. According to Scripture, she believed it.
We know without question, from a New Testament perspective, that God’s covenant with Abraham was an affirmation of the very same messianic promise God had already made to Eve in the garden when He declared that her seed would crush the head of the serpent. Just as Christ was the Seed of the woman who overthrows the serpent, He is also the Seed of Abraham by whom all the world will be blessed. Paul wrote, “Now to Abraham and his Seed were the promises made. He does not say, ‘And to seeds,’ as of many, but as of one, ‘And to your Seed,’ who is Christ” (Gal. 3:16 NKJV). This same promise is the central theme that extends all through Scripture, from Genesis 3 to its final fulfillment in the closing chapters of Revelation.
Abraham was the human channel through which the world would see the outpouring of God’s redemptive plan. He understood that. Sarah understood and also embraced it. “She judged Him faithful who had promised” (Heb. 11:11 NKJV).
But despite her faith, she knew from a human perspective that her long years of childlessness already loomed large as a threat to the fulfillment of God’s pledge. Sarah must have constantly pondered these things, and as time went by, the weight of her burden only increased.
Yet God kept giving her reasons to hope. In Genesis 15:7–21, YHWH restated and expanded His promise to Abraham, then formally ratified the covenant. It is significant that verse 12 says a deep sleep fell on Abraham; then the Lord single-handedly carried out the covenant ceremony. (Incidentally, the Hebrew word used in verse 12 is the same word describing the “deep sleep” that Adam fell into when the Lord took his rib to make Eve.) This detail about Abraham’s sleep is given to stress the covenant was completely unconditional. The covenant was a unilateral promise from God to Abraham about what He, YHWH, would do. It made no demands of Abraham or Sarah whatsoever. It was a completely one-sided covenant.
If Sarah had simply realized that truth and embraced it, her whole burden would have been instantly lifted.
HER FOOLISHNESS IN THE MATTER OF HAGAR
Instead, Sarah took it upon herself to hatch a scheme that was so ill-advised and so completely fleshly that she regretted it for the rest of her days. As a matter of fact, the evil consequences of that one act had unbelievably farreaching implications. Frankly, some of the tensions we see in the Middle East today are rooted in Sarah’s foolhardy ploy to try to concoct a manmade solution to her dilemma.
To be fair, from a purely human viewpoint, we can understand Sarah’s despair. Ten more fruitless years passed after Abraham and Sarah arrived in Canaan (Gen. 16:3 NKJV). Sarah was now seventy-five years old, postmenopausal, and still childless. If God planned to make her the mother of Abraham’s heir, why had He not done so by now? It was natural for her to think God was deliberately withholding children from her. As a matter of fact, He was. When His time came for the promise to be fulfilled, no one would be able to deny that this was indeed God’s doing. His plan all along was for Sarah to have her first child in her old age, after every prospect of a natural fulfillment of the prophecy was exhausted and after every earthly reason for hope was completely dead. Thus YHWH would put His power on display.
But as she considered her circumstances, Sarah concluded that a kind of surrogate parenting was the only possible solution to her predicament. If God’s promise to Abraham were ever going to be fulfilled, Abraham had to father children by some means. Sarah thus took it upon herself to try to engineer a fulfillment of the divine promise to Abraham. She unwittingly stepped into the role of God.
Sarah had a maidservant, named Hagar, whom she had acquired during their time in Egypt. Sarah apparently reasoned that since she owned Hagar, if Abraham fathered a child by Hagar, it would in effect be Sarah’s child. “So Sarai said to Abram, ‘See now, the LORD has restrained me from bearing children. Please, go in to my maid; perhaps I shall obtain children by her.’ And Abram heeded the voice of Sarai” (16:2 NKJV).
This was the first recorded case of polygamy in Scripture involving a righteous man. The very first bigamist on biblical record was Lamech (Gen. 4:19). He was an evil descendant of Cain. (He is not to be confused with another Lamech, described in Genesis 5:25–29, who was Noah’s father and who descended from the line of Seth.)
Abraham took a concubine, at his wife’s urging. “Sarai, Abram’s wife, took Hagar her maid, the Egyptian, and gave her to her husband Abram to be his wife” (Gen. 16:3 NKJV). This was a sorry precedent for the patriarch of the nation to set. In generations to come, Jacob would be duped by his uncle into marrying both Leah and Rachel (29:23–31); David would take concubines (2 Sam. 5:13); and Solomon would carry polygamy to an almost unbelievable extreme, maintaining a harem of more than a thousand women (1 Kings 11:1–3).
But God’s design for marriage was monogamy from the beginning. “A man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” (Matt. 19:4–5 NKJV, emphasis added). Paul likewise made clear what God’s ideal for marriage is: “Let each man have his own wife, and let each woman have her own husband” (1 Cor. 7:2 NKJV, emphasis added). Disobedience to that standard has always resulted in evil consequences. David’s polygamous heart led to his sin with Bathsheba. Solomon’s marital philandering destroyed him and divided his kingdom (1 Kings 11:4). No good has ever come from any violation of the “one-flesh” principle of monogamy. Abraham’s union with Hagar is certainly no exception.
As soon as Hagar conceived, Sarah knew it was a grave mistake. Hagar suddenly became haughty and contentious toward Sarah: “When she [Hagar] saw that she had conceived, her mistress [Sarah] became despised in her eyes” (Gen. 16:4 NKJV).
Here, then, is the first outburst of temper we see from Sarah: “Sarai said to Abram, ‘My wrong be upon you! I gave my maid into your embrace; and when she saw that she had conceived, I became despised in her eyes. The LORD judge between you and me’” (Gen. 16:5 NKJV).
It is true that Sarah was being unreasonable. This whole sordid plan was, after all, her big idea. Yes, as the spiritual head of the household, Abraham should have rejected Sarah’s plan out of hand—but it’s still not quite fair to pin all the guilt on him. On the other hand, this fit of Sarah’s was deliberately provoked by Hagar. Her insolent treatment of Sarah was utterly indefensible. No doubt, Hagar knew all too well about Sarah’s extreme grief over her own barrenness. Now she was deliberately putting salt in Sarah’s wound. Since Hagar was the servant and Sarah the one in charge, this was the most brazen kind of deliberate impudence.
A section of the book of Proverbs deals with precisely this situation:
Under three things the earth quakes,
And under four, it cannot bear up:
Under a slave when he becomes king,
And a fool when he is satisfied with food,
Under an unloved woman when she gets a husband,
And a maidservant when she supplants her mistress (30:21–23 NASB).
The truth, however, is that every party in this whole affair was guilty, and all of them ended up reaping bitter fruit from what they had sown.
Abraham recognized the legitimacy of Sarah’s complaint. He might have been wise to step in as an arbitrator and seek a solution that would have been fair to both women. But given Sarah’s disposition at that moment, he did what most husbands would probably do and simply let Sarah deal with Hagar her own way. “Abram said to Sarai, ‘Indeed your maid is in your hand; do to her as you please.’ And when Sarai dealt harshly with her, she fled from her presence” (Gen. 16:6 NKJV).
To understand Sarah’s extreme frustration, let’s follow Hagar for a moment. Notice first that although Sarah dealt harshly with her maidservant, the Lord showed extreme grace to Hagar. The Angel of the Lord sought her out. In all likelihood, this was no created angel, but a visible manifestation of YHWH himself in angelic or human form. (I’m inclined to think that this Angel was actually the preincarnate Son of God. We meet the same Angel several times in the Old Testament, including Genesis 22:11–18; Exodus 3:2–5; and 1 Kings 19:5–7.) Notice that He spoke to Hagar in the first person as YHWH, not in the third person, as an angelic messenger speaking on YHWH’s behalf would do.
His words to Hagar were gentle and full of mercy. He first approached her by asking where she had come from and where she was going. He addressed her directly as “Hagar, Sarai’s maid,” however, both to make clear that he knew exactly who she was and to remind her of her duty. Then, to make this explicit, when Hagar answered truthfully, the Angel said, “Return to your mistress, and submit yourself under her hand” (Gen. 16:9 NKJV). As a legally indentured servant, she had no right to run away, and she needed to go back and be humbly obedient.
The Angel then made an amazing, completely unsolicited promise to Hagar: “I will multiply your descendants exceedingly, so that they shall not be counted for multitude” (Gen. 16:10 NKJV). Prophetically, he described her unborn son for her, saying she would call him Ishmael and that he would be wild, yet dwell in the presence of his brethren (16:12).
She, in return, acknowledged Him by a unique name: “El-Roi,” or “the God who sees,” a reference to the omniscient eye that followed her and sought her out even when she tried to hide (16:13 NKJV).
Consider this, however: Sarah had never received such a promise from God. Sarah’s faith resided in promises God had made to Abraham. Up to this point, Sarah had never explicitly been named in the covenant God made with Abraham. God had already confirmed His promise to Abraham on no less than three major occasions. He first told Abraham he would be the father of a great nation (12:3). He then promised to make Abraham’s seed as the dust of the earth—“so that if a man could number the dust of the earth, then your descendants also could be numbered” (13:16 NKJV). When Abraham later reminded the Lord that he still lacked a legitimate heir, God promised once again that Abraham’s seed would be like the stars of the sky in number (15:1–6).
On none of those occasions had God ever expressly stated that Sarah would be matriarch to the nation in question. That was her hope and expectation. But what the episode with Hagar shows is that Sarah’s hope was beginning to wane. She was slowly losing heart.
HER PERSEVERANCE THROUGH YEARS OF SILENCE
When Ishmael was born to Hagar, Scripture says Abraham was eighty-six years old (Gen. 16:16). Thirteen more frustrating years passed for Sarah after that. She remained barren. By that time she was eighty-nine years old. She had lived in Canaan for twenty-four years. Her husband was about to have his hundredth birthday. If her hope was not utterly shattered, it must have hung by a very thin thread.
Here’s where the greatness of Sarah’s faith shines through. She had harbored hope for so long. Year after year had come and gone. She was now an old woman, and no matter how often she and Abraham tried to conceive, the promise was still unfulfilled. Most women would have given up long before this. A lesser woman might have despaired of ever seeing YHWH’s promise fulfilled and turned to paganism instead. But we are reminded again that Sarah “judged Him faithful who had promised” (Heb. 11:11 NKJV). This is what made her so extraordinary.
Finally, when Abraham was ninety-nine, the Lord appeared to him again and once more renewed the covenant.
This was an especially important restatement of the covenant. The passage is long, and there’s not enough space here to cover it in detail, but the Lord once again reiterated and expanded the vital promises he had made to Abraham. Every time the promises came, they got bigger: “My covenant is with you, and you shall be a father of many nations” (Gen. 17:4 NKJV). Not just “a great nation”; not merely descendants as numerous as the stars or the dust; but “many nations.” To this aged man who had managed to father only one son (and that by less than honorable means), God said, “I will make you exceedingly fruitful; and I will make nations of you, and kings shall come from you” (17:6 NKJV).
It was also at this point that God gave Abraham his name, changing it from his birth name, Abram (17:5 NKJV). Abram means “exalted father”; Abraham means “father of many nations.”
The Lord also formally extended the Abrahamic Covenant across the generations, making the whole land of Canaan “an everlasting possession” for Abraham’s offspring forever (17:7–8 NKJV). Finally, God gave Abraham the sign of circumcision, with instructions for how it was to be administered (17:10–14). Circumcision became the sign and the formal seal of the covenant. Everything germane to the covenant was now in place.
Significantly, at the beginning of the chapter, YHWH revealed Himself to Abraham with a new name: “Almighty God,” El Shaddai in Hebrew (17:1 NKJV). The name deliberately highlighted God’s omnipotence. After hearing these promises so many times, Abraham might have been wondering whether he would ever see the son who embodied the fulfillment of the promises. The name was a subtle reminder to Abraham that nothing was too hard for God.
Having said all that, the Lord then turned the subject to Sarah. For the first time on record, He specifically brought Sarah by name into the covenant promises: “Then God said to Abraham, ‘As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai [“my princess”], but Sarah [“Princess”] shall be her name. And I will bless her and also give you a son by her; then I will bless her, and she shall be a mother of nations; kings of peoples shall be from her’” (17:15–16 NKJV). By removing the possessive pronoun (“my”), the Lord was taking away the limiting aspect of her name, since she was to be ancestor to many nations.
There’s no indication that Sarah was present to hear this; the context suggests that she was not. We can be certain she heard about it from Abraham at the first opportunity. Notice his reaction: “Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said in his heart, ‘Shall a child be born to a man who is one hundred years old? And shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?’” (17:17 NKJV). There was probably as much relief and gladness in the laughter as there was incredulity. Surely we can understand Abraham’s amazement, perhaps even tinged with a measure of uncertainty. But don’t mistake it for unbelief. In Romans 4:20–21, the apostle Paul, speaking of this very moment, says Abraham “did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strengthened in faith, giving glory to God, and [was] fully convinced that what He had promised He was also able to perform” (NKJV).
Abraham also pleaded with God not to overlook Ishmael, at this point thirteen-years-old and no doubt beloved by his father: “Abraham said to God, ‘Oh, that Ishmael might live before You!’” (Gen. 17:18 NKJV). The Lord immediately reiterated the promise regarding Sarah: “No, Sarah your wife shall bear you a son, and you shall call his name Isaac; I will establish My covenant with him for an everlasting covenant, and with his descendants after him” (v. 19 NKJV). Sarah’s son, not Hagar’s, would be the child in whom the covenant promises would find their fulfillment (Gal. 4:22–28).
The Lord had one thing left to say: “And as for Ishmael, I have heard you. Behold, I have blessed him, and will make him fruitful, and will multiply him exceedingly. He shall beget twelve princes, and I will make him a great nation. But My covenant I will establish with Isaac, whom Sarah shall bear to you at this set time next year” (Gen. 17:20–21 NKJV). For the first time, here was a promise, with a fixed date, assuring Sarah of her place in the covenant. With that, the interview was over, and Scripture says simply that He “went up from Abraham” (v. 22 NKJV).
Abraham must have immediately found Sarah and reported to her all that the Lord said. Whatever her reaction, she certainly understood that Abraham believed the promise, because he immediately was circumcised, and he had every male in his household circumcised as well, whether they had been “born in the house or bought with money from a foreigner” (vv. 23–27 NKJV).
HER JOY IN THE FULFILLMENT OF THE PROMISE
The next time the Lord appeared to Abraham, one of His express purposes was to renew the promise for Sarah’s sake so that she could hear it with her own ears. Genesis 18 describes how the Lord visited Abraham with two angels. Abraham saw them far off, and (perhaps even before he realized who they were) immediately had Sarah begin preparation of a meal for them. He promised them “a little water . . . [and] a morsel of bread,” but he actually had a calf slain and gave them a feast (Gen. 18:4–8 NKJV). Sarah’s willingness to entertain guests so elaborately on such short notice is one of the marks of her submission to Abraham mentioned by the apostle Peter when he held Sarah up as a model for wives. Peter wrote, “In this manner, in former times, the holy women who trusted in God also adorned themselves, being submissive to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord” (1 Peter 3:5–6 NKJV). This was the very instance Peter had in mind. In fact, while Sarah is always portrayed as submissive to Abraham, Genesis 18:12 is the only place in the Old Testament record where she referred to him as “my lord” (NKJV).
While they were eating, the men asked, “Where is Sarah your wife?”
(Gen. 18:9 NKJV).
“Here, in the tent,” Abraham replied, establishing that he knew she was within earshot. Scripture describes the details of the conversation that followed:
And He said, “I will certainly return to you according to the time of life,
and behold, Sarah your wife shall have a son.” (Sarah was listening in the
tent door which was behind him.)
Now Abraham and Sarah were old, well advanced in age; and Sarah
had passed the age of childbearing. Therefore Sarah laughed within herself,
saying, “After I have grown old, shall I have pleasure, my lord being old also?”
And the LORD said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh, saying, ‘Shall
I surely bear a child, since I am old?’ Is anything too hard for the LORD? At
the appointed time I will return to you, according to the time of life, and
Sarah shall have a son.”
But Sarah denied it, saying, “I did not laugh,” for she was afraid. And
He said, “No, but you did laugh!” (Gen. 18:10–15 NKJV)
Sarah’s laughter (just like Abraham’s earlier) seems to have been an exclamation of joy and amazement rather than doubt. Yet when the Lord asked, “Why did Sarah laugh?” she denied it. That denial was motivated by fear. She was afraid because she had not laughed aloud, but “within herself.” As soon as she realized this stranger had such a sure and thorough knowledge of her heart, she knew instantly and definitively that it was the Lord.
The year that followed was a difficult and busy year for Abraham and Sarah. That was the year God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 18:16–19:29). And during that same year, Abraham journeyed south again, this time into the land ruled by Abimelech, king of Gerar. Sarah, though now ninety, was still beautiful enough to stir the passions of a king. What had happened in Egypt twenty-five years earlier was replayed once more. Abraham again tried to pass Sarah off as his sister, and Abimelech, smitten with her beauty, began to pursue her. But God spared Sarah, by warning Abimelech in a dream that she was Abraham’s wife (Gen. 20:3). Scripture underscores the fact that Abimelech was not permitted by God to touch her (20:6), lest there be any question about whose child she would soon bear.
Abimelech, having been frightened when YHWH appeared to him in the dream, was gracious to Abraham and Sarah. He lavished gifts on Abraham and said, “See, my land is before you; dwell where it pleases you” (20:15 NKJV). To Sarah he said, “Behold, I have given your brother a thousand pieces of silver; behold, it is your vindication before all who are with you, and before all men you are cleared” (20:16 NASB).
Immediately after that incident, according to Scripture, “The LORD visited Sarah as He had said, and the LORD did for Sarah as He had spoken. For Sarah conceived and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken to him” (21:1–2 NKJV). Sarah named him Isaac, meaning “laughter.” And Sarah said, “God has made me laugh, and all who hear will laugh with me” (21:6 NKJV). Thus she confessed the laugh she had previously tried to deny.
We’re given a fascinating insight into Sarah’s real character by the fact that she saw genuine humor in the way God had dealt with her. “Who would have said to Abraham that Sarah would nurse children? For I have borne him a son in his old age” (v. 7 NKJV). Despite her occasional bursts of temper and struggles with discouragement, Sarah remained an essentially good-humored woman. After those long years of bitter frustration, she could still appreciate the irony and relish the comedy of becoming a mother at such an old age. Her life’s ambition was now realized, and the memory of years of bitter disappointment quickly disappeared from view. God had indeed been faithful.
HER HARSHNESS IN HER TREATMENT OF ISHMAEL
Sarah plays a major role in only one more episode recounted by Scripture. Isaac was finally weaned—and from what we know of the culture, he would therefore have been a young toddler, probably two- or three-years-old. Scripture says, “Abraham made a great feast on the same day that Isaac was weaned” (21:8 NKJV). It was a time for celebration. But something happened that was the final straw for Sarah in her long struggle to accept Hagar as her husband’s concubine. She saw Ishmael making fun of Isaac (v. 9). Scripture doesn’t say why Ishmael was mocking. It was probably for some silly, childish reason. As any parent will attest, such behavior is by no means out of the ordinary for a child Ishmael’s age. He was probably no older than fourteen at this point, just emerging from childhood into young manhood—old enough to be responsible for his behavior, but not old enough to be wise.
But it was too much for Sarah to endure. She immediately said, “Cast out this bondwoman and her son; for the son of this bondwoman shall not be heir with my son, namely with Isaac” (v. 10 NKJV).
For Abraham, all the joy instantly went out of the celebration. Ishmael was, after all, his firstborn son. He genuinely loved him. Remember Abraham’s earlier plea to God, “Oh, that Ishmael might live before You!” (Gen. 17:18 NKJV).
Was Sarah really being overly harsh? In truth, she was not. Virtually any woman forced to share her husband with a concubine would respond to a situation like this exactly as Sarah did. She was Abraham’s true wife. Hagar was an interloper. Besides, according to the promise of God Himself, Isaac was Abraham’s true heir, promised by God to be the one through whom the covenant blessing would eventually see fulfillment. It confused things beyond measure for Ishmael to be in a position to claim the right of the firstborn over the one true heir appointed by God to succeed Abraham. Ishmael was a threat to God’s purpose for Abraham’s line as long as he remained in any position to claim that he, rather than Isaac, was Abraham’s rightful heir.
So what may appear at first glance to be an extreme overreaction was actually another proof of Sarah’s great faith in God’s promise. God Himself affirmed the wisdom of her demand: “God said to Abraham, ‘Do not let it be displeasing in your sight because of the lad or because of your bondwoman. Whatever Sarah has said to you, listen to her voice; for in Isaac your seed shall be called’” (21:12 NKJV).
Ishmael was by no means totally abandoned. The Lord promised to make a great nation of Ishmael too—“because he is your seed” (v. 13 NKJV). YHWH subsequently appeared to Ishmael and Hagar in their extremity and promised to meet all their needs (vv. 14–21). Furthermore, some kind of family tie was continually maintained between the lines of Ishmael and Isaac, because when Abraham died, both sons working together buried their father alongside Sarah (25:9–10).
The apostle Paul uses the expulsion of Hagar as an illustration of the conflict between law and grace. He calls it “an allegory” (Gal. 4:24 KJV), but we’re not to think he is denying the historical facts of the Genesis account. Instead he is treating it as typology—or better yet, a living object lesson. Hagar, the bondwoman, represents the slavery of legalism (the bondage of trying to earn favor with God through works). Sarah, the faithful wife, represents the perfect liberty of grace. Paul was reminding the Galatian believers that “we, brethren, as Isaac was, are children of promise” (v. 28 NKJV)—saved by grace, not vainly hoping to be saved by works. “But, as he who was born according to the flesh then persecuted him who was born according to the Spirit, even so it is now” (v. 29 NKJV). Just as Ishmael taunted Isaac, so the false teachers in Galatia were persecuting true believers. Paul’s conclusion? “Cast out the bondwoman and her son, for the son of the bondwoman shall not be heir with the son of the freewoman” (v. 30 NKJV). Harsh as it may have seemed, there was a very crucial, necessary, and positive spiritual principle in the expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael. This symbolized the important truth that the kind of religion that is dependent on human effort (symbolized by the carnal scheme that conceived Ishmael as an artificial fulfillment of God’s promise) is utterly incompatible with divine grace (symbolized by Isaac, the true heir of God’s promise). And the two are so hostile to one another that they cannot even abide in close proximity.
HER HAPPINESS IN HER WANING YEARS
After Hagar was cast out, Sarah returned to a healthy, monogamous life with her beloved husband and their child, Isaac, who was a perpetual reminder to both Sarah and Abraham of God’s staunch faithfulness. As far as we know, the rest of her years were lived out in joy and peace.
Sarah doesn’t even appear in the biblical account of Abraham’s near sacrifice of Isaac. That whole event was uniquely meant as a test of Abraham’s faith. Sarah seems to have been kept completely isolated from it until it was over. It occurred in the land of Moriah (Gen. 22:2). (In later generations, the city of Jerusalem surrounded the area known as Moriah, and Mount Moriah, at the heart of the city, was the precise spot where the Temple was situated, according to 2 Chronicles 3:1). Moriah was some forty-five miles from Beersheba, where Abraham was then residing (Gen. 21:33–34). In any event, Sarah’s faith had already been well tested. She had long since demonstrated her absolute trust in God’s promises. And the stamp of God’s approval on her is contained in those New Testament passages that recognize her for her steadfast faithfulness.
In fact, in the very same way the New Testament portrays Abraham as the spiritual father of all who believe (Rom. 4:9–11; Gal. 3:7), Sarah is pictured as the spiritual matriarch and the ancient epitome of all faithful women (1 Peter 3:6). Far from isolating those memorable instances where Sarah behaved badly, it commemorates her as the very epitome of a woman adorned with “the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit” (1 Peter 3:4 NKJV).
That is a fitting epitaph for this truly extraordinary woman.
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On the bank of which river does the French city of Bordeaux stand? | Bordeaux Wine - Beginner's Guide
Bordeaux Wine
A Beginners Guide to the Basics of Bordeaux Wine
Bordeaux's Left Bank - Medoc. CIVB / Philippe Roy
By Stacy Slinkard
Updated February 06, 2016.
Bordeaux...just the name conjures up all sorts of extraordinary wine expectations. As the fourth largest French city, the largest controlled wine growing region (AOC) in France, home to over 10,000 producers and the artisan of close to 70 million cases of wine per vintage, Bordeaux is the modern-day red wine Mecca, beckoning pilgrims near and far to scout for, speculate on and ultimately imbibe in the crown jewel, Bordeaux's exalted red wines. Not to say that Bordeaux doesn’t enjoy a favored following on the white wine or sweet wine fronts, merely that Bordeaux has been built on a foundation of red wine for hundreds of years, forged in large part by the historical and somewhat symbiotic relationship with the British over the highly coveted claret.
This famous winemaking region’s maritime climate, celebrated parcels of land, distinguished collection of grape varieties, well-honed traditions and complicated classification systems all come together in a tethered trellising system to form the winemaking wonder that is Bordeaux.
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A land based on “banks” – left bank or right bank, formal family roots and home to a slew of newcomers, layered with rules yet capable of cultivating wines that don’t all fall in regulatory line, crafting wine for futures yet gracing the table with everyday wine, every day, and built on a reputation of high-end wine, but presenting over 80% of its juice to the world in the “affordable” wine category at the $8-30 price point, Bordeaux is full of contrasts and more than capable of maintaining multiple wine expectations very well.
Bordeaux – Climate and the Lay of the Land
Located in the southwest corner of France, just miles from the Atlantic, Bordeaux benefits considerably from the coastal maritime influence, and typically enjoys wet springs, fairly gentle summers and mild winters. The Gulf Stream exerts a warming influence on the region, yet summer weather can be fickle and inconsistent, making for interesting issues when it comes to getting grapes to fully ripen.
Bordeaux: Good Vintages vs. Great Vintages
Bordeaux’s climate is a critical player in vintage quality year in and year out. With great vintages built on the backs of well-ripened grapes and intended to age for the long haul and good vintages, maintaining the silver lining of being ready to drink earlier and selling at more affordable prices. The best vintages are always warm ones, Bordeaux can be a cool climate for red grapes, which need plenty of sun to reach full maturity, with optimum levels of sugar and tannin. Mature grapes create great wines. With good vintages , the wines come across fairly fresh, with less complexity and overall intensity. These wines may be ready to drink upon release and require a lot less age to enjoy fully, though if you do want to hold a good vintage 3-5 years will often suffice. Vintages from recent years that fall into the “good category” include 2006, 2007 and 2008. Great vintages are built to cellar. They have a density, intensity and overall complexity that will only get more interesting with age. Recent Bordeaux vintages that fall into the “great category” include 2005, 2009 and 2010.
Battle of the Banks – Bordeaux's Left Bank vs. Right Bank
Three rivers do their best to define Bordeaux, with the major river, Gironde (truly classified as an estuary), effectively dividing the region into two primary sections – known worldwide simply as the left bank and the right bank. The flat, lower-lying land south of the Gironde is designated as the left bank and includes the regions of the Medoc and Graves . The gently sloping land on the north side of the Gironde is considered the right bank. The Gironde maintains two tributaries, the Garonne and Dordogne, with the Dordogne River serving to extend the right bank southeast along the most notable districts of Pomerol and St. Emilion . While, the Garonne continues its course south of the charming city of Bordeaux and slices through the land around the key districts of Graves, Pessac-Leognan and Sauternes . In general, gravel dominates the soil of the left bank, which holds the sun’s heat well, lending itself to nurturing the thermophilic properties of Cabernet Sauvignon grapes best. The soil of Bordeaux’s right bank steers towards limestone and clay, functioning like a sponge to hold water, making it the ideal soil to grow the softer side of early-ripening Merlot . While the wines of the right bank tend to lean more heavily on Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon typically anchors the blends of the left bank, these are not hard and fast rules, with both varietals enjoying opportunities for growth on the opposite bank, depending on the vineyard’s subsoil, orientation and general terroir. The beauty of Bordeaux’s wines stem from the blend; it is in fact the blended synergy between the Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, well supported by Cabernet Franc , that brings the balance and elegance that have become synonymous with Bordeaux wine for centuries.
The complementary growing patterns and palate personalities of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon offer built-in risk management. There is a safeguard in knowing that Merlot will ripen sooner than Cab. If weather wipes out one grape, there’s still hope for the other, keeping all of the eggs out of a single basket at harvest time not only brings peace of mind but also allows two unique grapes to participate in a blended partnership to build a wine that is truly better together. Merlot brings plenty of red berry fruit, silky tannins, higher alcohol and lower acidity levels. While Cabernet Sauvignon is heavy on the black fruit, enjoys tighter tannins, significant structure and often lower levels of alcohol than Merlot. These complementary characteristics serve to support the balance of the blend, where one grape may lack the other fills in, resulting in a wine marriage that’s forged and sustained on varietal strengths while working in tandem to blend away weakness.
The Grapes of Bordeaux
Don’t expect to find the grapes on the labels of Bordeaux wines, you’ll find producer names, various villages, appellations and AOC designations, but not grapes. Why? It is where the grapes are grow - the terroir, the region, the village, the chateau itself that is most important to the Bordelais, not the individual grape varieties. This can make it tough to navigate Bordeaux wines for New World consumers, who tend to be more grape-centric, born and raised on the label designates of “Merlot” or “Cabernet Sauvignon.” Remember the name of the game is BLEND in Bordeaux, it is the combination of the climate, the soil, the overall terroir and the dominate grapes that create a wine from Bordeaux, not a stand alone, all-star varietal.
Red Wine Grapes of Bordeaux
Bordeaux’s red wines are the region’s most vocal ambassadors, living a legend and leaving a legacy to all who imbibe. Crafted for perfect pairing with the region’s best lamb, beef, duck, wild game and local cheese, Bordeaux’s reds on all levels, live for food. Merlot is the primary red grape grown in Bordeaux weighing in at 60% of the vines planted, followed by Cabernet Sauvignon at 26 % and Cab Franc at 12%. Malbec and Petit Verdot may also be grown in Bordeaux, but they are grown in much smaller quantities and are used more for “seasoning” the red blend rather than building the blend itself.
Merlot– The dominant red wine grape of Bordeaux is Merlot. The highest concentrations of Merlot are grown on the right bank with limestone and clay being the most common soil substrates. This early ripening grape brings plenty to the blending table. Aromatic red fruit on the nose along with the supple fruit components of plum, cherry and chocolate and softer, silk-driven tannins bring a round character to the medium to full-bodied Merlot-based wines of Bordeaux’s right bank. The storied village of St. Emilion and the small district of Pomerol are the most famous districts for Merlot-based blends in Bordeaux; while, Fronsac continues to be one of the more affordable, offering high quality, well-priced right bank wines.
Cabernet Sauvignon – 26% of Bordeaux’s red wine grapes are Cabernet Sauvignon. Cab dominates the left bank and is a late ripening grape, with intense tannins contributing structure, depth and long-term aging potential. Wines on the left bank are anchored by Cabernet Sauvignon and blended with varying degrees of Merlot and Cab Franc (and perhaps a scosh of Petit Verdot). These left bank lads tend to enjoy deep color, remarkable intensity, a full body, plenty of structure and enduring elegance along with darker fruit components. Acclaimed names for some of Bordeaux’s best Cab-based blends come from the villages of St. Estephe, Pauillac, St. Julien and Margaux. For more affordable left bank wines look for labels with the villages of Listrac, Moulis and Haut-Medoc.
Cabernet Franc – Grows best on the right bank, but is also readily found on the left bank. This grape has long played a supporting role to Bordeaux’s Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Cab Franc lends spicy aromas with peppery accents and violet nuances, along with an understated elegance and fine tannins to the region's red wine blends.
Malbec and Petit Verdot – In Bordeaux these grapes are grown in considerably smaller quantities, making up roughly 2% of the region's red grape population. However, Malbec and Petit Verdot both may be used in Bordeaux blends, with Malbec contributing a softness and Petit Verdot bringing some serious power and structure.
White Wine Grapes of Bordeaux
The white wine segment makes up about 11% of Bordeaux’s total wine market . Sauvignon Blanc, Semillon, the floral Muscadelle and Ugni Blanc are the only four grape varieties allowed to participate in the white wine AOC labeled blends of Bordeaux. For a lean, dry white wine brimming with acidity and food-friendly character, look for labels sporting the district of Entre-Deux-Mers. If more body, a rounder palate profile and an uptick in complexity defines your favorite white wines, then scout labels with district designates of Pessac-Leognan or Graves.
Sauvignon Blanc – The white wine grape, Sauvignon Blanc, enjoys a good deal of diversity in Bordeaux. It can be made into a crisp, refreshing dry white wine in regions like Pessac-Leognan that pair well with oysters, shellfish and regional seafood or it can be beautifully blended with Semillon to make the sweet wines of Sauternes or Barsac, perfect pairing partners with the regional foie gras and Roquefort cheese. Sauvignon Blanc is not typically made to age on its own, but enjoyed in its youth will show fresh herb or “grassy” aromatics with bright acidity and well-balanced fruit.
Semillon – The Semillon grape is the most widely planted white grape in Bordeaux. It can be showcased on its own or in a blend with Sauvignon Blanc . This grape brings full flavor, creamy textures, intensity and body to a blend and constitutes the primary grape used for making Bordeaux’s sweet Sauternes , thanks to its exceptional susceptibility to noble rot, or Botrytis Cinerea . Unlike Sauvignon Blanc, Semillon can age well given the right vintage and is a rich, dry white wine in the hands of regions like Graves and Pessac-Leognan.
Buying Bordeaux
Buying wine from Bordeaux can be an intimidating experience for newbies. For starters, French wine labels in general steer clear of grapes and focus on geography. Labels highlight a wine's classification, the region that the grapes were grown, the AOC statement, and the estate - similar to New World wines, except that many are not familiar with Bordeaux's regions. Does the village lie on the left bank or right bank and why does it matter? Many would-be buyers of Bordeaux lack familiarity with Bordeaux's 10,000 estates and are oblivious to the region's the AOC Classification System .
To gain an initial grip on buying wines from Bordeaux, recall that the right bank is dominated, in general, by Merlot and the left bank is typically anchored by Cabernet Sauvignon. Learning several Bordeaux-based villages on each side of the river constitutes the next step for label recognition, whether you're buying the wines online or at the wine shop. Keep in mind, vintage variables play a critical factor in buying Bordeaux wines, check out the last several Bordeaux vintages to see where they lineup on the "good" vs. "great" scale, clearly good vintages are cheaper than great vintages. It's also no surprise, that big name chateaus will command significantly higher prices for their wines, but you can find solid red blends at incredible prices from Bordeaux's more modest chateaus. Learn more about top tips for buying wine from Bordeaux here.
While the finest wines from Bordeaux, the ones that have both built and maintained the region’s prestigious reputation are quite expensive, often cashing in at $1000+ a bottle for First Growths, they do not represent the majority of wines from Bordeaux. In fact, the vast majority of Bordeaux’s wines are affordable, food-friendly wines. Love it or hate it, drink it or not, Bordeaux has ruled the world of wine for well over three centuries and looks like it will continue to steer tradition, influence consumer trends and prep the future of vines for years to come.
As is common in the travel industry, the writer was provided with complimentary travel for the purpose of reviewing the region. While it has not influenced this review, About.com believes in full disclosure of all potential conflicts of interest. For more information, see our ethics policy .
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Which piece of music was used as the theme for television's 'Jonathan Creek'? | A Beginner's Guide to French Wine | Serious Eats
A Beginner's Guide to French Wine
14
[Illustration: Robyn Lee]
The idea of tackling France—the accents and the growing regions and the different vintages—can feel like a vast, unmanageable task for anyone who wants to start learning about wine. But even the most seasoned wine professionals sometimes mispronounce words, so you shouldn't worry. Today's guide will help you get a little more comfortable in the French section of your local wine shop.
French wines can be confusing because they rarely put the name of the grape on the bottle. Instead they put a controlled place name, appearing on the label as the "Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée." You will often see this abbreviated as AOC or, to get in line with EU terminology, AOP. The rules for winemaking and grape growing in each appellation have grown out of each region's long history.
Why put the place on the label instead of the name of the grape? Many people would say that it's because of the notion of terroir. Essentially, terroir is the wine's expression of the place from where it came. When winemakers speak about terroir, they're talking about a variety of things that influence the vine, including the type of soil it's growing in, the slope and elevation of the vineyard, as well as the climate and weather.
Though it's hard to make broad generalizations, you might find that French wines tend to focus less on fruit flavors than wines from newer growing regions in the New World. French wines might be described as earthy or mineral—which means they taste a little like dirt, chalk, or mushrooms.
Today we'll cover a few of the major regions that you should know.
Burgundy
[ Photo: Craig Drollett on Flickr ]
When someone says "red Burgundy," they're talking about Pinot Noir. And when they say "white Burgundy", they mean Chardonnay. But as with most French wines, you won't see those grapes on the label, so it's worth getting to know a bit about the famous wine-growing regions of Burgundy: there's Chablis in the north, the Cote d'Or between Dijon and Lyon, Cote Chalonnaise, the Mâcon, and Beaujolais.
Most wines from Burgundy are split into four major tiers of quality. Regional wines (which are just labeled, say, Bourgogne Rouge, Bourgogne Blanc, or Cremant de Bourgogne) are at the base, made from grapes sourced anywhere in Burgundy. As the prestige goes up, you're getting grapes from a more and more specific area. Next up from regional wines are those specific to one village, then wines sourced from premier cru vineyards, and finally, the top classification is for wines from the most prestigious sites, called the grand cru vineyards.
The appellations in Burgundy are attached the piece of land, regardless of who is making the wine. Some pieces of land may have dozens of producers, with each winery owning a few rows of grape vines. How did Burgundy end up with this system? Well, it's all about the history. Monks have been farming this land for centuries, and noted which spots seemed best for growing grapes. The vineyards were split among multiple owners as generations went by because the Napoleonic code stipulated that a family's vineyards were split among their children, not inherited all together.
Chablis, the northernmost part of Burgundy, is famous for white wines made from chardonnay. If the label says Appellation Chablis Contrôlée, the wine will generally be fresh with a chalky, oyster shell-like minerality—many of these wines are not aged in oak barrels.
The Cote d'Or is made up of two main regions, Cote de Nuits in northern area, and Cote de Beaune in the south. Cote de Nuits is more known for its Pinot Noir and the Cote de Beaune is famed for its Chardonnay.
Moving south, you will find two regions that serve as excellent (and often more affordable) introductions to the wines of Burgundy: the Cote Chalonnaise and the Mâcon. You'll find great deals in Pinot Noir from Givry or Mercurey. For Chardonnay, look for Pouilly-Fuissé, St-Véran, or Rully.
Red wine in Burgundy is mostly about Pinot Noir, but there is one exception: Beaujolais. In this area, delicious red wines are made from the gamay grape. There's much more to these wines than the quickly-produced Beaujolais Nouveau meant for harvest celebrations; those cheap wines really don't represent the quality of the region on the whole. Wines from the ten 'crus' of Beaujolais are beloved among wine nerds and often a great bargain. There are ten crus, but some of the ones you'll see the most are Morgon, Fleurie, or Moulin-A-Vent.
Bordeaux
The town of St. Emilion. [Photo: Robyn Lee]
Wines from Bordeaux are almost always a blend of different grapes. If you're buying red wine, it might include Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec, Cabernet Franc, and/or Petit Verdot. What's the dominant grape in the blend? It depends on where the bottle is from...
The region of Bordeaux is often divided into the Left Bank and the Right Bank. The area is split by the Gironde river, which has two smaller rivers, the Garonne and the Dordogne, feeding into it (picture an upside-down 'Y' shape.)
The Left Bank, on the west side, includes the Medoc and Haut Medoc (north of the city of Bordeaux) and Graves (south of the city). The famous villages of St. Estephe, Pauillac, St. Julien, and Margaux are all in the Haut Medoc. The Graves region to the south of the city includes Pessac-Leognan, home of the renowned Chateau Haut-Brion.
The blends for wines from the Left Bank are generally dominated by Cabernet Sauvignon, while blends from the Right Bank—the east side, which includes St. Emilion and Pomerol—are more focused on Merlot.
Between the two branches of the river-'Y' shape is a region called Entre Deux Mers, known for its white wines made from Sauvignon Blanc, Semillon, and Muscadelle.
You might have heard the terms 'first growth' or 'second growth' in relation to fancy wines from Bordeaux. These classifications come from a ranking system from way back in 1855, when the wine estates of the region were ranked in order of quality from 'first growth' to 'fifth growth'. 160 years later, some of the top wines are still truly mind-blowing....and expensive. Unlike in Burgundy, the classification in Bordeaux is based on the producer, not the specific piece of land where the grapes are grown.
Loire
Melon de Bourgogne grapes in the Loire [ Photo: Cyril5555 on Wikimedia Commons ]
The wine regions near the Loire River can be thought of in four sections: The Pays Nantais, Anjou-Saumur, Touraine, and the Central Vineyards.
Let's start at the ocean, shall we? The Pays Nantais (named for Nantes, the largest city in the area) is the closest to the Atlantic and famous for Muscadet, an oyster-loving white wine made from the Melon de Bourgogne grape. You're likely to see 'Sur Lie' on a good bottle of Muscadet—it means that the wine was left with the dead yeast cells, or lees, after fermentation. This adds a creamy, textural richness to the fresh, salty tang of the wine. (One thing to keep straight: Muscadet is definitely different from Muscat, an aromatic grape that is often made as an off-dry wine.)
Traveling east from the Pays Nantais, we come to the Anjou-Saumur and the Touraine. The white grape Chenin Blanc and the red Cabernet Franc are the most common here. We love the dry Chenin Blancs from Savennières, as well as both the dry and sweeter examples of the grape made in Vouvray. If you're looking for Cabernet Franc, seek out red wines from Chinon and Bourgueil. While also found in the Bordeaux blend, on its own, Cabernet Franc expresses itself with black cherry, herby green vegetables, and plenty of potting soil. You'll also find peppery, tangy, and bright Pineau d'Aunis in Anjou and Touraine.
The Central Vineyards are known mainly for their Sauvignon Blanc. The appellation of Sancerre is the most well-known and often the most expensive. Its neighbors can provide a great entry point with the same tart, sometimes grassy expression. Look for wines from the adjacent appellations of Menetou-Salon and Pouilly-Fumè, or the nearby Reuilly and Quincy.
Champagne
Cristal Champagne in racks (called pupitres) used for riddling. [Photo: Sarah Bray]
You might have heard before that you're not supposed to call every sparkling wine Champagne. It's only Champagne if it's from the region of Champagne. (And they actually make some still, non-bubbly wines there, too, though those aren't called Champagne, either.)
What makes Champagne special, beyond the region where the grapes are grown? The methode champenoise, also known as the traditional method. The basic idea of this labor-intensive process is as follows. Somewhat underripe grapes are first fermented to make a normal still wine with pretty low alcohol. This wine is bottled and then undergoes a second fermentation in the very same bottle that comes home with you from the store. A little yeast and sugar is added to each bottle of wine to get a second fermentation started. The bottle is usually closed with a crown cap (like a beer cap). The yeast converts the added sugar into alcohol, and since the bottle is capped, the carbon dioxide that is naturally produced is captured and remains in the wine as bubbles.
After this secondary fermentation, Champagne bottles have to go through a laborious process called riddling. Over the course of several weeks, the bottles are slowly, gradually turned and lowered until they are turned upside down. The goal is to get all of the dead yeast into the neck of the bottle so that it can be removed. Seeing a pattern with this leftover yeast? Lees add a lot to the resulting wine and Champagnes have to age with the yeast for at least a year before taking the next step.
When they're ready to go, the necks of the bottles are frozen and, in a moment of organized chaos called disgorgement, the crown cap on the bottle is popped off and the pressure that has built up in the wine pushes out the frozen yeast deposit. The bottle is topped off with some wine and sometimes sugar (the dosage) before being corked and sealed with a wire cage.
Since the grapes often struggle to ripen fully every year in the cool, northern environment, wines from Champagne are often non-vintage (NV), which means the bottle holds a blend of wines from different years. Champagne can also be from a single vintage, which is generally a very good year.
All this hard work means that Champagne is definitely pricey—often starting around $40. You can also look for wines made from the traditional method in other areas of France, often for around $20. One easy kind to spot is anything labeled 'Cremant.' These wines will come from other areas around France, such as Burgundy, Alsace, or the Loire.
You will see 'Premier Cru' and 'Grand Cru' on bottles of Champagne—this label applies to the entire village from which the grape comes, rather than specific vineyards.
Alsace
The Hugel & Fils tasting room in Alsace. [Photo: Sarah Bray]
You'll find Alsace right on the German border of France. Over the last few hundred years, France and Germany have alternated possession of the area and a unique blend of each country's wine heritage remains. Unlike in most French regions, wines from Alsace most frequently do have the grape of the label. The most exalted grapes in the region, called noble grapes, are Riesling, Pinot Gris, Gewurztraminer, and Muscat. In Alsace, these wines are unusually intense and mineral, not the fresh-and-fruity wines you might expect from these grapes.
If you see 'Gentil' on a label of an Alsatian wine, it means the bottle holds a blend of the noble grapes (as well as up to 50% wine from other grapes). These blends can be a particularly good value. Alsatian examples of Pinot Blanc and Sylvaner are also delicious and are generally much cheaper than wines made from the noble grapes.
While most grapes grown in Alsace are white, Pinot Noir does make an appearance on its own as a red wine and in bubbly Cremant d'Alsace.
Rhône
The Hermitage hill, above the Rhône River. [ Photo: David Monniaux on Wikimedia Commons ]
You might have heard of Châteauneuf-du-Pape or Hermitage: those appellations are in the Rhône. The Rhône River starts up in the Alps and flows down through Valence and Avignon, ending in the Mediterranean Sea in the area near Marseille. The area is generally split into two main parts: the Northern Rhône and the Southern Rhône.
When you think Northern Rhône, think Syrah. The grape finds its most peppery, meaty expression on the steep hillsides that line the river. A good way to get into these wines is to try St. Joseph or Crozes-Hermitage, but even these can be a bit pricey. Some talented producers make wines under the humble Vin de Pays Collines Rhodaniennes, and these can be delicious and extremely affordable. You'll also see white wines made from Viognier grapes in this area.
The sunny Southern Rhone is all about the blend, with Grenache leading the charge. They're usually "GSM," shorthand for Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre. Other grapes, such as Cinsault and Counoise, also make an appearance and in fact, thirteen different grapes are allowed in the blend for Châteauneuf-du-Pape. The white wines are often blends of Grenache Blanc, Marsanne, Roussanne, and Viognier, though a few other grapes are also allowed.
The Rhône wines you will most often see in a wine shop or on a wine list will say Côtes-du-Rhône on the label. These, too, are likely to be GSM blends, sometimes including Cinsault, Carignane, and Counoise. If you want to take one step up from the basic Côtes-du-Rhône wines, look for one of the 18 villages that are allowed to add their name to the label. (You'll often see Visan, Sablet, and Cairanne.) Gigondas, Vacqueyras, Beaumes-de-Venise, and Vinsobres often offer a bit more quality; they used to be under the Cotes-du-Rhone name, but have been elevated and now stand on their own as appellations.
Languedoc and Roussillon
Sampling wine in the Languedoc. [Photo: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]
Languedoc and Roussillon are two large regions that lie on the coast of the Mediterranean. Red and rosé wines from these areas are generally a blend of Carignan, Cinsault, Grenache, Syrah, Mourvèdre, with other indigenous and international varieties making an appearance. White wines are less common, but when you see them they are also usually blends that include Grenache Blanc, Marsanne, Roussanne, Muscat, and sometimes other grapes.
If you love the warm climate wines of California or Australia, these regions are a wonderful way to introduce yourself to France. The sunshine gives plenty of fruit flavor and body to the red wines from the AOCs of Côtes du Roussillon, St. Chinian, Minervois, and Languedoc (Languedoc is the general name for the region and a specific AOC, you still with me?). Rousillon is also known for its fortified sweet wine, made in spots like Rivesaltes, Maury, and Banyuls from a Grenache blend.
You might see 'Vin De Pays d'Oc' on a wine label from this region—it's a country wine classification that is one step up from table wine but without as many restrictions as Appellation Contrôlée wines. Good value alert!
Provence
[Photo: Rebeccah Marsters]
When we think of Provence, we first think of rosé. They make a lot of it here, usually a blend of Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault, and Mourvèdre that pairs perfectly with sunshine and beach umbrellas. But there's more to Provence than just these lovely, dry pink wines: if you're looking for reds, look to Bandol. This region sits along the coast and produces mostly red wines from a blend dominated by Mourvèdre. Producers in Bandol also tend to make exceptional rosé wines from younger vines that aren't quite ready to be used in red wine.
There's More!
There are more grapes and regions in France than you probably have time to read about on your lunch break, but we hope we've given you a few handy basics. Got questions about the wines of France or any of the regions we've mentioned? Please share them in the comments below!
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In which city would you find the Eureka Tower, The Royal Exhibition Building and the Docklands Stadium? | Royal Exhibition Building (Melbourne, Australia): Top Tips Before You Go - TripAdvisor
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The Royal Exhibition Building is one of the world's oldest remaining...
The Royal Exhibition Building is one of the world's oldest remaining exhibition pavilions. On 1 July 2004, it became the first building in Australia to achieve a World Heritage listing.
Located in Carlton Gardens, the pavilion was originally completed in 1880 for the first of two international fairs hosted by Melbourne. On May 1st, 1901, the initial Commonwealth Parliament was held here, an event commemorated in 2001, the centenary of Australian Federation.
Today, with its meticulously restored interior, expansive galleries and soaring dome, the Great Hall offers an impressive setting for trade shows, fairs and cultural and community events.
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What is the capital of the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh? | Grand Fountain - Picture of Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne - TripAdvisor
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Grand Fountain - Picture of Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne
Carlton Gardens | 11 Nicholson Street, Carlton, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
Description:
The Royal Exhibition Building is one of the world's oldest remaining...
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The Royal Exhibition Building is one of the world's oldest remaining exhibition pavilions. On 1 July 2004, it became the first building in Australia to achieve a World Heritage listing.
Located in Carlton Gardens, the pavilion was originally completed in 1880 for the first of two international fairs hosted by Melbourne. On May 1st, 1901, the initial Commonwealth Parliament was held here, an event commemorated in 2001, the centenary of Australian Federation.
Today, with its meticulously restored interior, expansive galleries and soaring dome, the Great Hall offers an impressive setting for trade shows, fairs and cultural and community events.
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What was the name given to a tame monkey or ape, but is now used as a derisory term for a conceited or impudent person? | Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue / Francis Grose
Autem bawler. A parson. Cant.
Autem cacklers, autem prickears. Dissenters of every denomination. Cant.
Autem cackletub. A conventicle or meeting-house for dissenters. Cant.
Autem dippers. Anabaptists. Cant.
Autem divers. Pickpockets who practice in churches; also churchwardens and overseers of the poor. Cant.
Autem goglers. Pretended French prophets. Cant.
Autem mort. A married woman; also a female beggar with several children hired or borrowed to excite charity. Cant.
Autem quavers. Quakers.
Autem quaver tub. A Quakers’ meeting-house. Cant.
Awake. Acquainted with, knowing the business. Stow the books, the culls are awake; hide the cards, the fellows know what we intended to do.
Babes in the wood. Criminals in the stocks, or pillory.
Babble. Confused, unintelligible talk, such as was used at the building the tower of Babel.
Back biter. One who slanders another behind his back, i.e. in his absence. His bosom friends are become his back biters, said of a lousy man.
Backed. Dead. He wishes to have the senior, or old square-toes, backed; he longs to have his father on six men’s shoulders; that is, carrying to the grave.
Back up. His back is up, i.e. he is offended or angry; an expression or idea taken from a cat; that animal, when angry, always raising its back. An allusion also sometimes used to jeer a crooked man; as, So, Sir, I see somebody has offended you, for your back is up.
Bacon. He has saved his bacon; he has escaped. He has a good voice to beg bacon; a saying in ridicule of a bad voice.
Bacon-faced. Full-faced.
Back gammon player. A sodomite.
Back door (Usher, or Gentleman of the). The same.
Bad bargain. One of his majesty’s bad bargains; a worthless soldier, a malingeror. See Malingeror.
Badge. A term used for one burned in the hand. He has got his badge, and piked; he was burned in the hand, and is at liberty. Cant.
Badge-coves. Parish Pensioners. Cant.
Badgers. A crew of desperate villains who robbed near rivers, into which they threw the bodies of those they murdered. Cant.
Bag. He gave them the bag, i.e. left them.
Bag of nails. He squints like a bag of nails; i. e. his eyes are directed as many ways as the points of a bag of nails. The old Bag of nails at Pimlico; originally the Bacchanals.
Baggage. Heavy baggage; women and children. Also a familiar epithet for a woman; as, cunning baggage, wanton baggage, &c.
Bakers dozen. Fourteen; that number of rolls being allowed to the purchasers of a dozen.
Baker-knee’d. One whose knees knock together in walking, as if kneading dough.
Balderdash. Adulterated wine.
Ballocks. The testicles of a man or beast; also a vulgar nick name for a parson. His brains are in his ballocks, a cant saying to designate a fool.
Balum rancum. A hop or dance, where the women are all prostitutes. N. B. The company dance in their birthday suits.
Balsam. Money.
Bam. A jocular imposition, the same as a humbug. See Humbug.
To bam. To impose on any one by a falsity; also to jeer or make fun of any one.
To bamboozle. To make a fool of any one, to humbug or impose on him.
Banaghan. He beats Banaghan; an Irish saying of one who tells wonderful stories. Perhaps Banaghan was a minstrel famous for dealing in the marvellous.
Bandbox. Mine a-se on a bandbox; an answer to the offer of any thing inadequate to the purpose for which it is proffered, like offering a bandbox for a seat.
Banbury story of a cock and a bull. A roundabout, nonsensical story.
Bandog. A bailiff or his follower; also a very fierce mastiff: likewise, a bandbox. Cant.
Bang up. (Whip.) Quite the thing, hellish fine. Well done. Compleat. Dashing. In a handsome stile. A bang up cove; a dashing fellow who spends his money freely. To bang up prime: to bring your horses up in a dashing or fine style: as the swell’s rattler and prads are bang up prime; the gentleman sports an elegant carriage and fine horses.
To bang. To beat.
Banging. Great; a fine banging boy.
Bang straw. A nick name for a thresher, but applied to all the servants of a farmer.
Bankrupt cart. A one-horse chaise, said to be so called by a Lord Chief Justice, from their being so frequently used on Sunday jaunts by extravagant shop-keepers and tradesmen.
Banks’s horse. A horse famous for playing tricks, the property of one Banks. It is mentioned in Sir Walter Raleigh’s Hist. of the World, p. 178; also by Sir Kenelm Digby and Ben Jonson.
Bantling. A young child.
Banyan day. A sea term for those days on which no meat is allowed to the sailors: the term is borrowed from the Banyans in the East Indies, a cast that eat nothing that had life.
Baptized, or christened. Rum, brandy, or any other spirits, that have been lowered with water.
Barber’s chair. She is as common as a barber’s chair, in which a whole parish sit to be trimmed; said of a prostitute.
Barber’s sign. A standing pole and two wash balls.
Bargain. To sell a bargain; a species of wit, much in vogue about the latter end of the reign of Queen Anne, and frequently alluded to by Dean Swift, who says the maids of honour often amused themselves with it. It consisted in the seller naming his or her hinder parts, in answer to the question, What? which the buyer was artfully led to ask. As a specimen, take the following instance: A lady would come into a room full of company, apparently in a fright, crying out, It is white, and follows me! On any of the company asking, What? she sold him the bargain, by saying, Mine a-e.
Bargees. (Cambridge.) Barge-men on the river.
Barker. The shopman of a bow-wow shop, or dealer in second hand clothes, particularly about Monmouth–Street, who walks before his master’s door, and deafens every passenger with his cries of — Clothes, coats, or gowns — what d’ye want, gemmen? — what d’ye buy? See Bow-wow shop.
Barkshire. A member or candidate for Barkshire, said of one troubled with a cough, vulgarly styled barking.
Barking irons. Pistols, from their explosion resembling the bow-wow or barking of a dog. Irish.
Barn. A parson’s barn; never so full but there is still room, for more. Bit by a barn mouse, tipsey, probably from an allusion to barley.
Barnaby. An old dance to a quick movement. See Cotton, in his Virgil Travesti; where, speaking of Eolus he has these lines,
Bounce cry the port-holes, out they fly,
And make the world dance Barnaby.
Barnacle. A good job, or snack easily got: also shellfish growing at the bottoms of ships; a bird of the goose kind; an instrument like a pair of pincers, to fix on the noses of vicious horses whilst shoeing; a nick name for spectacles, and also for the gratuity given to grooms by the buyers and sellers of horses.
Barrel fever. He died of the barrel fever; he killed himself by drinking.
Barrow man. A man under sentence of transportation; alluding to the convicts at Woolwich, who are principally employed in wheeling barrows full of brick or dirt.
Bartholomew baby. A person dressed up in a tawdry manner, like the dolls or babies sold at Bartholomew fair.
Basket. An exclamation frequently made use of in cock-pits, at cock-fightings, where persons refusing or unable to pay their losings, are adjudged by that respectable assembly to be put into a basket suspended over the pit, there to remain during that day’s diversion: on the least demur to pay a bet, Basket is vociferated in terrorem. He grins like a basket of chips: a saying of one who is on the broad grin.
Basket-making. The good old trade of basket-making; copulation, or making feet for children’s stockings.
Bastard. The child of an unmarried woman.
Bastardly gullion. A bastard’s bastard.
To baste. To beat. I’ll give him his bastings, I’ll beat him heartily.
Basting. A beating.
Bastonading. Beating any one with a stick; from baton, a stick, formerly spelt baston.
Bat. A low whore: so called from moving out like bats in the dusk of the evening.
Batch. We had a pretty batch of it last night; we had a hearty dose of liquor. Batch originally means the whole quantity of bread baked at one time in an oven.
Battner. An ox: beef being apt to batten or fatten those that eat it. The cove has hushed the battner; i.e. has killed the ox.
Batchelor’s fare. Bread and cheese and kisses.
Batchelor’s son. A bastard.
Battle-royal. A battle or bout at cudgels or fisty-cuffs, wherein more than two persons are engaged: perhaps from its resemblance, in that particular, to more serious engagements fought to settle royal disputes.
Bawbee. A halfpenny. Scotch.
Bawbels, or Bawbles. Trinkets; a man’s testicles.
Bawd. A female procuress.
Bawdy basket. The twenty-third rank of canters, who carry pins, tape, ballads, and obscene books to sell, but live mostly by stealing. Cant.
Bawdy-house bottle. A very small bottle; short measure being among the many means used by the keepers of those houses, to gain what they call an honest livelihood: indeed this is one of the least reprehensible; the less they give a man of their infernal beverages for his money, the kinder they behave to him.
Bay fever. A term of ridicule applied to convicts, who sham illness, to avoid being sent to Botany Bay.
Bayard of ten toes. To ride bayard of ten toes, is to walk on foot. Bayard was a horse famous in old romances,
Beak. A justice of-peace, or magistrate. Also a judge or chairman who presides in court. I clapp’d my peepers full of tears, and so the old beak set me free; I began to weep, and the judge set me free.
Bean. A guinea. Half bean; half a guinea.
Bear. One who contracts to deliver a certain quantity of sum of stock in the public funds, on a future day, and at stated price; or, in other words, sells what he has not got, like the huntsman in the fable, who sold the bear’s skin before the bear was killed. As the bear sells the stock he is not possessed of, so the bull purchases what he has not money to pay for; but in case of any alteration in the price agreed on, either party pays or receives the difference. Exchange Alley.
Bear-garden jaw or Discourse. Rude, vulgar language, such as was used at the bear-gardens.
Bear leader. A travelling tutor.
Beard splitter. A man much given to wenching.
Bearings. I’ll bring him to his bearings; I’ll bring him to reason. Sea term.
Beast. To drink like a beast, i.e. only when thirsty.
Beast with two backs. A man and woman in the act of copulation. Shakespeare in Othello.
Beater cases. Boots. Cant.
Beau-nasty. A slovenly fop; one finely dressed, but dirty.
Beau trap. A loose stone in a pavement, under which water lodges, and on being trod upon, squirts it up, to the great damage of white stockings; also a sharper neatly dressed, lying in wait for raw country squires, or ignorant fops.
Becalmed. A piece of sea wit, sported in hot weather. I am becalmed, the sail sticks to the mast; that is, my shirt sticks to my back. His prad is becalmed; his horse knocked up.
Beck. A beadle. See Hermanbeck.
Bed. Put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a spade; said of one that is dead and buried. You will go up a ladder to bed, i.e. you will be hanged. In many country places, persons hanged are made to mount up a ladder, which is afterwards turned round or taken away, whence the term, “Turned off.”
Bedfordshire. I am for Bedfordshire, i.e. for going to bed.
Bedizened. Dressed out, over-dressed, or awkwardly ornamented.
Bed-maker. Women employed at Cambridge to attend on the Students, sweep his room, &c. They will put their hands to any thing, and are generally blest with a pretty family of daughters: who unmake the beds, as fast as they are made by their mothers.
Beef. To cry beef; to give the alarm. They have cried beef on us. Cant. — To be in a man’s beef; to wound him with a sword. To be in a woman’s beef; to have carnal knowledge of her. Say you bought your beef of me, a jocular request from a butcher to a fat man, implying that he credits the butcher who serves him.
Beef eater. A yeoman of the guards, instituted by Henry Vii. Their office was to stand near the bouffet, or cupboard, thence called Bouffetiers, since corrupted to Beef Eaters. Others suppose they obtained this name from the size of their persons, and the easiness of their duty, as having scarce more to do than to eat the king’s beef.
Beetle-browed. One having thick projecting eyebrows.
Beetle-headed. Dull, stupid.
Beggar maker. A publican, or ale-house keeper.
Beggar’s bullets. Stones. The beggar’s bullets began to fly, i.e. they began to throw stones.
Beilby’s ball. He will dance at Beilby’s ball, where the sheriff pays the music; he will be hanged. Who Mr. Beilby was, or why that ceremony was so called, remains with the quadrature of the circle, the discovery of the philosopher’s stone, and divers other desiderata yet undiscovered.
Belch. All sorts of beer; that liquor being apt to cause eructation.
Belcher. A red silk handkerchief, intermixed with yellow and a little black. The kiddey flashes his belcher; the young fellow wears a silk handkerchief round his neck.
Bell, book, and candle. They cursed him with bell, book, and candle; an allusion to the popish form of excommunicating and anathematizing persons who had offended the church.
To bear the bell. To excel or surpass all competitors, to be the principal in a body or society; an allusion to the fore horse or leader of a team, whose harness is commonly ornamented with a bell or bells. Some suppose it a term borrowed from an ancient tournament, where the victorious knights bore away the Belle or Fair lady. Others derive it from a horse-race, or other rural contentions, where bells were frequently given as prizes.
Bellows. The lungs.
Bellower. The town crier.
Bellowser. Transportation for life: i.e. as long.
Belly. His eye was bigger than his belly; a saying of a person at a table, who takes more on his plate than he can eat.
Bellyfull. A hearty beating, sufficient to make a man yield or give out. A woman with child is also said to have got her belly full.
Belly cheat. An apron.
Belly plea. The plea of pregnancy, generally adduced by female felons capitally convicted, which they take care to provide for, previous to their trials; every gaol having, as the Beggar’s Opera informs us, one or more child getters, who qualify the ladies for that expedient to procure a respite.
Belly timber. Food of all sorts.
Bell swagger. A noisy bullying fellow.
Bellwether. The chief or leader of a mob; an idea taken from a flock of sheep, where the wether has a bell about his neck.
Bene. Good —Benar. Better. Cant.
Bene bowse. Good beer, or other strong liquor. Cant.
Bene cove. A good fellow. Cant.
Bene darkmans. Goodnight. Cant.
Bene fearers. Counterfeiters of bills. Cant.
Bene feakers of gybes. Counterfeiters of passes. Cant.
Beneshiply. Worshipfully. Cant.
Benish. Foolish.
Benison. The beggar’s benison: May your ***** and purse never fail you.
Bermudas. A cant name for certain places in London, privileged against arrests, like the Mint in Southwark, Ben. Jonson. These privileges are abolished.
Bess, or Betty. A small instrument used by house-breakers to force open doors. Bring bess and glym; bring the instrument to force the door, and the dark lantern. Small flasks, like those for Florence wine, are also called betties.
Bess. See Brown bess.
Best. To the best in Christendom: i.e. the best **** in Christendom; a health formerly much in vogue.
Bet. A wager. —To bet. To lay a wager.
Betty martin. That’s my eye, Betty Martin; an answer to any one that attempts to impose or humbug.
Betwattled. Surprised, confounded, out of one’s senses; also bewrayed.
Bever. An afternoon’s luncheon; also a fine hat; beaver’s fur making the best hats,
Beverage. Garnish money, or money for drink, demanded of any one having a new suit of clothes.
Bible. A boatswain’s great axe. Sea term.
Bible oath. Supposed by the vulgar to be more binding than an oath taken on the Testament only, as being the bigger book, and generally containing both the Old and New Testament.
Biddy, or Chick-a-biddy. A chicken, and figuratively a young wench.
Bidet, commonly pronounced Biddy. A kind of tub, contrived for ladies to wash themselves, for which purpose they bestride it like a French poney, or post-horse, called in French bidets.
Bienly. Excellently. She wheedled so bienly; she coaxed or flattered so cleverly. French.
Bill at sight. To pay a bill at sight; to be ready at all times for the venereal act.
Bilboa. A sword. Bilboa in Spain was once famous for well-tempered blades: these are quoted by Falstaff, where he describes the manner in which he lay in the buck-basket. Bilboes, the stock; prison. Cant.
To bilk. To cheat. Let us bilk the rattling cove; let us cheat the hackney coachman of his fare. Cant. Bilking a coachman, a box-keeper, and a poor whore, were formerly, among men of the town, thought gallant actions.
Bill of sale. A widow’s weeds. See House to let.
Billingsgate language. Foul language, or abuse. Billingsgate is the market where the fishwomen assemble to purchase fish; and where, in their dealings and disputes, they are somewhat apt to leave decency and good manners a little on the left hand.
Bing. To go. Cant. Bing avast; get you gone. Binged avast in a darkmans; stole away in the night. Bing we to Rumeville: shall we go to London?
Bingo. Brandy or other spirituous liquor. Cant.
Bingo boy. A dram drinker. Cant.
Bingo mort. A female dram drinker. Cant.
Binnacle word. A fine or affected word, which sailors jeeringly offer to chalk up on the binnacle.
Bird and baby. The sign of the eagle and child.
Bird-witted. Inconsiderate, thoughtless, easily imposed on.
Birds of a feather. Rogues of the same gang.
Birth-day suit. He was in his birth-day suit, that is, stark naked.
Bishop. A mixture of wine and water, into which is put a roasted orange. Also one of the largest of Mrs. Philips’s purses, used to contain the others.
Bishoped, or To bishop. A term used among horse-dealers, for burning the mark into a horse’s tooth, after he has lost it by age; by bishoping, a horse is made to appear younger than he is. It is a common saying of milk that is burnt too, that the bishop has set his foot in it. Formerly, when a bishop passed through a village, all the inhabitants ran out of their houses to solicit his blessing, even leaving their milk, &c. on the fire, to take its chance: which, went burnt to, was said to be bishoped.
To bishop the balls, a term used among printers, to water them.
Bit. Money. He grappled the cull’s bit; he seized the man’s money. A bit is also the smallest coin in Jamaica, equal to about sixpence sterling.
Bitch. A she dog, or doggess; the most offensive appellation that can be given to an English woman, even more provoking than that of whore, as may he gathered from the regular Billinsgate or St. Giles’s answer —“I may be a whore, but can’t be a bitch.”
To bitch. To yield, or give up an attempt through fear. To stand bitch; to make tea, or do the honours of the tea-table, performing a female part: bitch there standing for woman, species for genius.
Bitch booby. A country wench. Military term.
Bite. A cheat; also a woman’s privities. The cull wapt the mort’s bite; the fellow enjoyed the wench heartily. Cant.
To bite. To over-reach, or impose; also to steal. — Cant. — Biting was once esteemed a kind of wit, similar to the humbug. An instance of it is given in the Spectator: A man under sentence of death having sold his body to a surgeon rather below the market price, on receiving the money, cried, A bite! I am to be hanged in chains. — To bite the roger; to steal a portmanteau. To bite the wiper, to steal a handkerchief. To bite on the bridle; to be pinched or reduced to difficulties. Hark ye, friend, whether do they bite in the collar or the cod-piece? Water wit to anglers.
Biter. A wench whose **** is ready to bite her a-se; a lascivious, rampant wench.
Blab. A tell-tale, or one incapable of keeping a secret
Black and white. In writing. I have it in black and white; I have written evidence.
Black art. The art of picking a lock. Cant.
Black a-se. A copper or kettle. The pot calls the kettle black a-se. Cant.
Black book. He is down in the black book, i.e. has a stain in his character. A black book is keep in most regiments, wherein the names of all persons sentenced to punishment are recorded.
Black box. A lawyer. Cant.
Black eye. We gave the bottle a black eye, i.e. drank it almost up. He cannot say black is the white of my eye; he cannot point out a blot in my character.
Black fly. The greatest drawback on the farmer is the black fly, i.e. the parson who takes tithe of the harvest.
Black guard. A shabby, mean fellow; a term said to be derived from a number of dirty, tattered roguish boys, who attended at the Horse Guards, and Parade in St. James’s Park, to black the boots and shoes of the soldiers, or to do any other dirty offices. These, from their constant attendance about the time of guard mounting, were nick-named the black-guards.
Black jack. A nick name given to the Recorder by the Thieves.
Black jack. A jug to drink out of, made of jacked leather.
Black joke. A popular tune to a song, having for the burden, “Her black joke and belly so white:” figuratively the black joke signifies the monosyllable. See Monosyllable.
Black indies. Newcastle upon Tyne, whose rich coal mines prove an Indies to the proprietors.
Blacklegs. A gambler or sharper on the turf or in the cockpit: so called, perhaps, from their appearing generally in boots; or else from game-cocks whose legs are always black.
Black monday. The first Monday after the school-boys holidays, or breaking up, when they are to go to school, and produce or repeat the tasks set them.
Black psalm. To sing the black psalm; to cry: a saying used to children.
Black spice racket. To rob chimney sweepers of their soot, bag and soot.
Black spy. The Devil.
Black strap. Bene Carlo wine; also port. A task of labour imposed on soldiers at Gibraltar, as a punishment for small offences.
Blank. To look blank; to appear disappointed or confounded.
Blanket hornpipe. The amorous congress.
Blarney. He has licked the blarney stone; he deals in the wonderful, or tips us the traveller. The blarney stone is a triangular stone on the very top of an ancient castle of that name in the county of Cork in Ireland, extremely difficult of access; so that to have ascended to it, was considered as a proof of perseverance, courage, and agility, whereof many are supposed to claim the honour, who never atchieved the adventure: and to tip the blarney, is figuratively used telling a marvellous story, or falsity; and also sometimes to express flattery. Irish.
A blasted fellow or Brimstone. An abandoned rogue or prostitute. Cant.
To Blast. To curse.
Bleached mort. A fair-complexioned wench.
Bleaters. Those cheated by Jack in a box. Cant. — See Jack in a box.
Bleating cheat. A sheep. Cant.
Bleating rig. Sheep stealing. Cant.
Bleeders. Spurs. He clapped his bleeders to his prad; be put spurs to his horse.
Bleeding cully. One who parts easily with his money, or bleeds freely.
Bleeding new. A metaphor borrowed from fish, which will not bleed when stale.
Blessing. A small quantity over and above the measure, usually given by hucksters dealing in peas, beans, and other vegetables.
Blind. A feint, pretence, or shift.
Blind cheeks. The breech. Buss blind cheeks; kiss mine a-se.
Blind excuse. A poor or insufficient excuse. A blind ale-house, lane, or alley; an obscure, or little known or frequented ale-house, lane, or alley.
Blind harpers. Beggars counterfeiting blindness, playing on fiddles, &c.
Blindman’s buff. A play used by children, where one being blinded by a handkerchief bound over his eyes, attempts to seize any one of the company, who all endeavour to avoid him; the person caught, must be blinded in his stead.
Blind cupid. The backside.
Blindman’s holiday. Night, darkness.
Block houses. Prisons, houses of correction, &c.
Blocked at both ends. Finished. The game is blocked at both ends; the game is ended.
Blood. A riotous disorderly fellow.
Blood for blood. A term used by tradesmen for bartering the different commodities in which they deal. Thus a hatter furnishing a hosier with a hat, and taking payment in stockings, is said to deal blood for blood.
Blood money. The reward given by the legislature on the conviction of highwaymen, burglars, &c.
Bloody back. A jeering appellation for a soldier, alluding to his scarlet coat.
Bloody. A favourite word used by the thieves in swearing, as bloody eyes, bloody rascal.
Bloss or Blowen. The pretended wife of a bully, or shoplifter. Cant.
To blot the skrip and jar it. To stand engaged or bound for any one. Cant.
Blow. He has bit the blow, i.e. he has stolen the goods. Cant.
Blowen. A mistress or whore of a gentleman of the scamp. The blowen kidded the swell into a snoozing ken, and shook him of his dummee and thimble; the girl inveigled the gentleman into a brothel and robbed him of his pocket book and watch.
Blower. A pipe. How the swell funks his blower and lushes red tape; what a smoke the gentleman makes with his pipe, and drinks brandy.
To blow the grounsils. To lie with a woman on the floor. Cant.
To blow the gab. To confess, or impeach a confederate. Cant.
Blow-up. A discovery, or the confusion occasioned by one.
A blowse, or Blowsabella. A woman whose hair is dishevelled, and hanging about her face; a slattern.
Blubber. The mouth. — I have stopped the cull’s blubber; I have stopped the fellow’s mouth, meant either by gagging or murdering him.
To blubber. To cry.
To sport blubber. Said of a large coarse woman, who exposes her bosom.
Blubber cheeks. Large flaccid cheeks, hanging like the fat or blubber of a whale.
Blue, To look blue; to be confounded, terrified, or disappointed. Blue as a razor; perhaps, blue as azure.
Blue boar. A venereal bubo.
Blue devils. Low spirits.
Blue flag. He has hoisted the blue flag; he has commenced publican, or taken a public house, an allusion to the blue aprons worn by publicans. See Admiral of the blue.
Blue pigeons. Thieves who steal lead off houses and churches. Cant. To fly a blue pigeon; to steal lead off houses or churches.
Blue plumb. A bullet. — Surfeited with a blue plumb; wounded with a bullet. A sortment of George R—‘s blue plumbs; a volley of ball, shot from soldiers’ firelocks.
Blue skin. A person begotten on a black woman by a white man. One of the blue squadron; any one having a cross of the black breed, or, as it is termed, a lick of the tar brush.
Blue tape, or Sky blue. Gin.
Blue ruin. Gin. Blue ribband; gin.
Bluff. Fierce, surly. He looked as bluff as bull beef.
Bluffer. An inn-keeper. Cant.
Blunderbuss. A short gun, with a wide bore, for carrying slugs; also a stupid, blundering fellow.
Blunt. Money. Cant.
To bluster. To talk big, to hector or bully.
Boarding school. Bridewell, Newgate, or any other prison, or house of correction.
Bob. A shoplifter’s assistant, or one that receives and carries off stolen goods. All is bob; all is safe. Cant.
Bob. A shilling.
Bobbed. Cheated, tricked, disappointed.
Bobbish. Smart, clever, spruce.
Bob stay. A rope which holds the bowsprit to the stem or cutwater. Figuratively, the frenum of a man’s yard.
Bob tail. A lewd woman, or one that plays with her tail; also an impotent man, or an eunuch. Tag, rag, and bobtail; a mob of all sorts of low people. To shift one’s bob; to move off, or go away. To bear a bob; to join in chorus with any singers. Also a term used by the sellers of game, for a partridge.
Body snatchers. Bum bailiffs.
Body of divinity bound in black calf. A parson.
Bog lander. An Irishman; Ireland being famous for its large bogs, which furnish the chief fuel in many parts of that kingdom.
Bog trotter. The same.
Bog house. The necessary house. To go to bog; to go to stool.
Bog latin. Barbarous Latin. Irish. — See Dog latin, and Apothecaries latin.
Bogy. Ask bogy, i.e. ask mine a-se. Sea wit.
Boh. Said to be the name of a Danish general, who so terrified his opponent Foh, that he caused him to bewray himself. Whence, when we smell a stink, it is custom to exclaim, Foh! i.e. I smell general Foh. He cannot say Boh to a goose; i.e. he is a cowardly or sheepish fellow. There is a story related of the celebrated Ben Jonson, who always dressed very plain; that being introduced to the presence of a nobleman, the peer, struck by his homely appearance and awkward manner, exclaimed, as if in doubt, “you Ben Johnson! why you look as if you could not say Boh to a goose!” “Boh!” replied the wit.
Bold. Bold as a miller’s shirt, which every day takes a rogue by the collar.
Bolt. A blunt arrow.
Bolt upright. As erect, or straight up, as an arrow set on its end.
To bolt. To run suddenly out of one’s house, or hiding place, through fear; a term borrowed from a rabbit-warren, where the rabbits are made to bolt, by sending ferrets into their burrows: we set the house on fire, and made him bolt. To bolt, also means to swallow meat without chewing: the farmer’s servants in Kent are famous for bolting large quantities of pickled pork.
Bones. Dice.
Bone box. The mouth. Shut your bone box; shut your mouth.
Bone picker. A footman.
Boned. Seized, apprehended, taken up by a constable. Cant.
Bolus. A nick name for an apothecary.
Bonesetter. A hard-trotting horse.
Booby, or Dog booby. An awkward lout, clodhopper, or country fellow. See Clodhopper and Lout. A bitch booby; a country wench.
Booby hutch. A one-horse chaise, noddy, buggy, or leathern bottle.
Books. Cards to play with. To plant the books; to place the cards in the pack in an unfair manner.
Book-keeper. One who never returns borrowed books. Out of one’s books; out of one’s fevor. Out of his books; out of debt.
Boot catcher. The servant at an inn whose business it is to clean the boots of the guest.
Boots. The youngest officer in a regimental mess, whose duty it is to skink, that is, to stir the fire, snuff the candles, and ring the bell. See Skink. — To ride in any one’s old boots; to marry or keep his cast-off mistress.
Booty. To play booty; cheating play, where the player purposely avoids winning.
Bo-peep. One who sometimes hides himself, and sometimes appears publicly abroad, is said to-play at bo-peep. Also one who lies perdue, or on the watch.
Borachio. A skin for holding wine, commonly a goat’s; also a nick name for a drunkard.
Borde. A shilling. A half borde; a sixpence.
Bordello. A bawdy house.
Bore. A tedious, troublesome man or woman, one who bores the ears of his hearers with an uninteresting tale; a term much in fashion about the years 1780 and 1781.
Born under a threepenny halfpenny planet, never to be worth a groat. Said of any person remarkably unsuccessful in his attempts or profession.
Botch. A nick name for a taylor.
Bothered or Both-eared. Talked to at both ears by different persons at the same time, confounded, confused. Irish Phrase.
Botherams. A convivial society.
Bottle-headed. Void of wit.
Bottom. A polite term for the posteriors. Also, in the sporting sense, strength and spirits to support fatigue; as a bottomed horse. Among bruisers it is used to express a hardy fellow, who will bear a good beating.
Bottomless pit. The monosyllable.
Boughs. Wide in the boughs; with large hips and posteriors.
Boughs. He is up in the boughs; he is in a passion.
To bounce. To brag or hector; also to tell an improbable story. To bully a man out of any thing. The kiddey bounced the swell of the blowen; the lad bullied the gentleman out of the girl.
Bouncer. A large man or woman; also a great lie.
Bouncing cheat. A bottle; from the explosion in drawing the cork. Cant.
Boung. A purse. Cant.
Boung nipper. A cut purse. Cant. — Formerly purses were worn at the girdle, from whence they were cut.
Boose, or Bouse. Drink.
Boosey. Drunk.
Bowsing ken. An ale-house or gin-shop.
Bowsprit. The nose, from its being the most projecting part of the human face, as the bowsprit is of a ship.
Bow-wow. The childish name for a dog; also a jeering appellation for a man born at Boston in America.
Bow-wow mutton. Dog’s flesh.
Bow-wow shop. A salesman’s shop in Monmouth-street; so called because the servant barks, and the master bites. See Barker.
Bowyer. One that draws a long bow, a dealer in the marvellous, a teller of improbable stories, a liar: perhaps from the wonderful shots frequently boasted of by archers.
To box the compass. To say or repeat the mariner’s compass, not only backwards or forwards, but also to be able to answer any and all questions respecting its divisions. Sea term.
To box the jesuit, and get cock roaches. A sea term for masturbation; a crime, it is said, much practised by the reverend fathers of that society.
Brace. The Brace tavern; a room in the S.E. corner of the King’s Bench, where, for the convenience of prisoners residing thereabouts, beer purchased at the tap-house was retailed at a halfpenny per pot advance. It was kept by two brothers of the name of Partridge, and thence called the Brace.
Bracket-faced. Ugly, hard-featured.
Bragget. Mead and ale sweetened with honey.
Braggadocia. vain-glorious fellow, a boaster.
Brains. If you had as much brains as guts, what a clever fellow you would be! a saying to a stupid fat fellow. To have some guts in his brains; to know something.
Bran-faced. Freckled. He was christened by a baker, he carries the bran in his face.
Brandy-faced. Red-faced, as if from drinking brandy.
Brandy. Brandy is Latin for a goose; a memento to prevent the animal from rising in the stomach by a glass of the good creature.
Brat. A child or infant.
Bray. A vicar of Bray; one who frequently changes his principles, always siding with the strongest party: an allusion to a vicar of Bray, in Berkshire, commemorated in a well-known ballad for the pliability of his conscience.
Brazen-faced. Bold-faced, shameless, impudent.
Bread and butter fashion. One slice upon the other. John and his maid were caught lying bread and butter fashion. — To quarrel with one’s bread and butter; to act contrary to one’s interest. To know on which side one’s bread is buttered; to know one’s interest, or what is best for one. It is no bread and butter of mine; I have no business with it; or rather, I won’t intermeddle, because I shall get nothing by it.
Break-teeth words. Hard words, difficult to pronounce.
Breaking shins. Borrowing money; perhaps from the figurative operation being, like the real one, extremely disagreeable to the patient.
Bread. Employment. Out of bread; out of employment. In bad bread; in a disagreeable scrape, or situation.
Bread basket. The stomach; a term used by boxers. I took him a punch in his bread basket; i.e. I gave him a blow in the stomach.
Breast fleet. He or she belongs to the breast fleet; i.e. is a Roman catholic; an appellation derived from their custom of beating their breasts in the confession of their sins.
Breeched. Money in the pocket: the swell is well breeched, let’s draw him; the gentleman has plenty of money in his pocket, let us rob him.
Breeches. To wear the breeches; a woman who governs her husband is said to wear the breeches.
Breeches bible. An edition of the Bible printed in 1598, wherein it is said that Adam and Eve sewed figleaves together, and made themselves breeches.
Breeze. To raise a breeze; to kick up a dust or breed a disturbance.
Bridge. To make a bridge of any one’s nose; to push the bottle past him, so as to deprive him of his turn of filling his glass; to pass one over. Also to play booty, or purposely to avoid winning.
Brim. (Abbreviation of Brimstone.) An abandoned woman; perhaps originally only a passionate or irascible woman, compared to brimstone for its inflammability.
Brisket beater. A Roman catholic. See breast fleet, and Craw thumper.
Bristol milk. A Spanish wine called sherry, much drunk at that place, particularly in the morning.
Bristol man. The son of an Irish thief and a Welch whore.
British champaigne. Porter.
Broganier. One who has a strong Irish pronunciation or accent.
Brogue. A particular kind of shoe without a heel, worn in Ireland, and figuratively used to signify the Irish accent.
Brother of the blade. A soldier
Buskin. A player.
String. A fiddler.
Whip. A coachman.
Brother starling. One who lies with the same woman, that is, builds in the same nest.
Broughtonian. A boxer: a disciple of Broughton, who was a beef-eater, and once the best boxer of his day.
Brown bess. A soldier’s firelock. To hug brown Bess; to carry a firelock, or serve as a private soldier.
Brown george. An ammunition loaf, A wig without powder; similar to the undress wig worn by his majesty.
Brown madam, or Miss brown. The monosyllable.
Brown study. Said of one absent, in a reverie, or thoughtful.
Bruiser. A boxer; one skilled in the ar of boxing also an inferior workman among chasers.
Brewes, or Browes. The fat scum from the pot in which salted beef is boiled.
To brush. To run away. Let us buy a brush and lope; let us go away or off. To have a brush with a woman; to lie with her. To have a brush with a man; to fight with him. The cove cracked the peter and bought a brush; the fellow broke open the trunk, and then ran away.
Brusher. A bumper, a full glass. See Bumper.
Bub. Strong beer.
Bubber. A drinking bowl; also a great drinker; a thief that steals plate from public houses. Cant.
The bubble. The party cheated, perhaps from his being like an air bubble, filled with words, which are only wind, instead of real property.
To bubble. To cheat.
To bar the bubble. To except against the general rule, that he who lays the odds must always be adjudged the loser: this is restricted to betts laid for liquor.
Bubbly jock. A turkey cock. Scotch.
Bubble and squeak. Beef and cabbage fried together. It is so called from its bubbling up and squeaking whilst over the fire.
Bube. The venereal disease.
Buck. A blind horse; also a gay debauchee.
To run a buck. To poll a bad vote at an election. —Irish term.
Buck bail. Bail given by a sharper for one of the gang.
A buck of the first head. One who in debauchery surpasses the rest of his companions, a blood or choice spirit. There are in London divers lodges or societies of Bucks, formed in imitation of the Free Masons: one was held at the Rose, in Monkwell-street, about the year 1705. The president is styled the Grand Buck. A buck sometimes signifies a cuckold.
Buck’s face. A cuckold.
Buck fitch. A lecherous old fellow.
Buckeen. A bully. Irish.
Bucket. To kick the bucket; to die.
Buckinger’s boot. The monosyllable. Matthew Buckinger was born without hands and legs; notwithstanding which he drew coats of arms very neatly, and could write the Lord’s Prayer within the compass of a shilling; he was married to a tall handsome woman, and traversed the country, shewing himself for money.
Buckles. Fetters.
Budge, or Sneaking budge. One that slips into houses in the dark, to steal cloaks or other clothes. Also lambs’ fur formerly used for doctors’ robes, whence they were called budge doctors. Standing budge; a thief’s scout or spy.
To budge. To move, or quit one’s station. Don’t budge from hence; i.e. don’t move from hence, stay here.
Budget. A wallet. To open the budget; a term used to signify the notification of the taxes required by the minister for the expences of the ensuing year; as To-morrow the minister will go to the house, and open the budget.
Bufe. A dog. Bufe’s nob; a dog’s head. Cant.
Bufe nabber. A dog stealer. Cant.
Buff. All in buff; stript to the skin, stark naked.
Buff. To stand buff; to stand the brunt. To swear as a witness. He buffed it home; and I was served; he swore hard against me, and I was found guilty.
Buffer. One that steals and kills horses and dogs for their skins; also an inn-keeper: in Ireland it signifies a boxer.
Buffer. A man who takes an oath: generally applied to Jew bail.
Buffle-headed. Confused, stupid.
Bug. A nick name given by the Irish to Englishmen; bugs having, as it is said, been introduced into Ireland by the English.
To bug. A cant word among journeymen hatters, signifying the exchanging some of the dearest materials of which a hat is made for others of less value. Hats are composed of the furs and wool of divers animals among which is a small portion of beavers’ fur. Bugging, is stealing the beaver, and substituting in lieu thereof an equal weight of some cheaper ingredient. — Bailiffs who take money to postpone or refrain the serving of a writ, are said to bug the writ.
Bug-hunter. An upholsterer.
Bugaboe. A scare-babe, or bully-beggar.
Bugaroch. Comely, handsome. Irish.
Buggy. A one-horse chaise.
Bugger. A blackguard, a rascal, a term of reproach. Mill the bloody bugger; beat the damned rascal.
Bulk and file. Two pickpockets; the bulk jostles the party to be robbed, and the file does the business.
Bulker. One who lodges all night on a bulk or projection before old-fashioned shop windows.
Bull. An Exchange Alley term for one who buys stock on speculation for time, i.e. agrees with the seller, called a Bear, to take a certain sum of stock at a future day, at a stated price: if at that day stock fetches more than the price agreed on, he receives the difference; if it falls or is cheaper, he either pays it, or becomes a lame duck, and waddles out of the Alley. See Lame duck and Bear.
Bull. A blunder; from one Obadiah Bull, a blundering lawyer of London, who lived in the reign of Henery Vii. by a bull is now always meant a blunder made by an Irishman. A bull was also the name of false hair formerly much worn by women. To look like bull beef, or as bluff as bull beef; to look fierce or surly. Town bull, a great whore-master.
Bull. A crown piece. A half bull; half a crown.
Bull beggar, or Bully beggar. An imaginary being with which children are threatened by servants and nurses, like raw head and bloody bones.
Bull calf. A great hulkey or clumsy fellow. See Hulkey.
Bull chin. A fat chubby child.
Bull dogs. Pistols.
Bull hankers. Persons who over-drive bulls, or frequent bull baits.
Bull’s eye. A crown-piece.
Bull’s feather. A horn: he wears the bull’s feather; he is a cuckold.
To bullock. To hector, bounce, or bully.
Bully. A cowardly fellow, who gives himself airs of great bravery. A bully huff cap; a hector. See Hector.
Bully back. A bully to a bawdy-house; one who is kept in pay, to oblige the frequenters of the house to submit to the impositions of the mother abbess, or bawd; and who also sometimes pretends to be the husband of one of the ladies, and under that pretence extorts money from greenhorns, or ignorant young men, whom he finds with her. See Greenhorn.
Bully cock. One who foments quarrels in order to rob the persons quarrelling.
Bully ruffians. Highwaymen who attack passengers with paths and imprecations.
Bully trap. A brave man with a mild or effeminate appearance, by whom bullies are frequently taken in.
Bum. the breech, or backside.
To bum. To arrest a debtor. The gill bummed the swell for a thimble; the tradesman arrested the gentleman for a watch.
Bum trap. A sheriff’s officer who arrests debtors. Ware hawke! the bum traps are fly to our panney; keep a good look out, the bailiffs know where our house is situated.
Bum bailiff. A sheriff’s officer, who arrests debtors; so called perhaps from following his prey, and being at their bums, or, as the vulgar phrase is, hard at their a-ses. Blackstone says, it is a corruption of bound bailiff, from their being obliged to give bond for their good behaviour.
Bum brusher. A schoolmaster.
Bum boat. A boat attending ships to retail greens, drams, &c. commonly rowed by a woman; a kind of floating chandler’s shop,
Bum fodder. Soft paper for the necessary house or torchecul.
Bumfiddle. The backside, the breech. See Ars musica.
Bumbo. Brandy, water, and sugar; also the negro name for the private parts of a woman.
Bumkin. A raw country fellow.
Bummed. Arrested.
Bumper. A full glass; in all likelihood from its convexity or bump at the top: some derive it from a full glass formerly drunk to the health of the pope —Au bon pere.
Bumping. A ceremony performed on boys perambulating the bounds of the parish on Whit-monday, when they have their posteriors bumped against the stones marking the boundaries, in order to fix them in their memory.
Bun. A common name for a rabbit, also for the monosyllable. To touch bun for luck; a practice observed among sailors going on a cruize.
Bundling. A man and woman sleeping in the same bed, he with his small clothes, and she with her petticoats on; an expedient practised in America on a scarcity of beds, where, on such an occasion, husbands and parents frequently permitted travellers to bundle with their wives and daughters. This custom is now abolished. See Duke of Rochefoucalt’s Travels in America,
Bung upwards. Said of a person lying on his face.
Bung your eye. Drink a dram; strictly speaking, to drink till one’s eye is bunged up or closed.
Bunt. An apron.
Bunter. A low dirty prostitute, half whore and half beggar.
Buntlings. Petticoats. Cant.
Burn crust. A jocular name for a baker.
Burn the ken. Strollers living in an alehouse without paying their quarters, are said to burn the ken. Cant.
Burning shame. A lighted candle stuck into the parts of a woman, certainly not intended by nature for a candlestick.
Burner. A clap. The blowen tipped the swell a burner; the girl gave the gentleman a clap.
Burner. He is no burner of navigable rivers; i.e. he is no conjuror, or man of extraordinary abilities; or rather, he is, but a simple fellow. See Thames.
Burnt. Poxed or clapped. He was sent out a sacrifice, and came home a burnt offering; a saying of seamen who have caught the venereal disease abroad. He has burnt his fingers; he has suffered by meddling.
Burr. A hanger on, or dependant; an allusion to the field burrs, which are not easily got rid of. Also the Northumbrian pronunciation: the people of that country, but chiefly about Newcastle and Morpeth, are said to have a burr in their throats, particularly called the Newcastle burr.
Bushel bubby. A full breasted woman.
Busk. A piece of whalebone or ivory, formerly worn by women, to stiffen the forepart of their stays: hence the toast — Both ends of the busk.
Buss beggar. An old superannuated fumbler, whom none but beggars will suffer to kiss them.
Bus-napper. A constable. Cant.
Bus-napper’s kenchin. A watchman. Cant.
Busy. As busy is the devil in a high wind; as busy as a hen with one chick.
Butcher’s dog. To be like a butcher’s dog, i.e. lie by the beef without touching it; a simile often applicable to married men.
Butcher’s horse. That must have been a butcher’s horse, by his carrying a calf so well; a vulgar joke on an awkward rider.
Butt. A dependant, poor relation, or simpleton, on whom all kinds of practical jokes are played off; and who serves as a butt for all the shafts of wit and ridicule.
Butter box. A Dutchman, from the great quantity of butter eaten by the people of that country.
Buttered bun. One lying with a woman that has just lain with another man, is said to have a buttered bun.
Butter and eggs trot. A kind of short jogg trot, such as is used by women going to market, with butter and eggs. — he looks as if butter would not melt in her mouth, yet I warrant you cheese would not choak her; a saying of a demure looking woman, of suspected character. Don’t make butter dear; a gird at the patient angler.
Buttock. A whore. Cant.
Buttock broker. A bawd, or match-maker. Cant.
Buttock ball. The amorous congress. Cant.
Buttock and file. A common whore and a pick-pocket. Cant.
Buttock and twang, or Down buttock and sham file. A common whore, but no pickpocket.
Buttock and tongue. A scolding wife.
Buttocking shop. A brothel.
Button. A bad shilling, among coiners. His a-se makes buttons; he is ready to bewray himself through fear. Cant.
Buzman. A pickpocket. Cant.
Buzzard. A simple fellow. A blind buzzard: a purblind man or woman.
Bye blow. A bastard.
Cabbage. Cloth, stuff, or silkpurloined by laylors from their employers, which they deposit in a place called Hell, or their Eye: from the first, when taxed, with their knavery, they equivocally swear, that if they have taken any, they wish they may find it in Hell; or, alluding to the second, protest, that what they have over and above is not more than they could put in their Eye. — When the scrotum is relaxed or whiffled, it is said they will not cabbage.
Cab. A brothel. Mother: how many tails have you in your cab? how many girls have you in your bawdy house?
Cacafeogo. A sh-te-fire, a furious braggadocio or bully huff.
Cackle. To blab, or discover secrets. The cull is leaky, and cackles; the rogue tells all. Cant. See Leaky.
Cackler. A hen.
Cackler’s ken. A hen roost. Cant.
Cackling cheats. Fowls. Cant.
Caddee. A helper. An under-strapper.
Cadge. To beg. Cadge the swells; beg of the gentlemen.
Caffan. Cheese. Cant.
Cagg. To cagg; a military term used by the private soldiers, signifying a solemn vow or resolution not to get drunk for a certain time; or, as the term is, till their cagg is out: which vow is commonly observed with the strictest exactness. Ex. I have cagg’d myself for six months. Excuse me this time, and I will cagg myself for a year. This term is also used in the same sense among the common people of Scotland, where it is performed with divers ceremonies.
Cag. To be cagged. To be sulky or out of humour. The cove carries the cag; the man is vexed or sullen.
Cag magg. Bits and scraps of provisions. Bad meat.
Cagg maggs. Old Lincolnshire geese, which having been plucked ten or twelve years, are sent up to London to feast the cockneys.
Cake, or Cakey. A foolish fellow.
Calf-skin fiddle. A drum. To smack calf’s skin; to kiss the book in taking an oath. It is held by the St. Giles’s casuists, that by kissing one’s thumb instead of smacking calf’s skin, the guilt of taking a false oath is avoided.
Calves. His calves are gone to grass; a saying of a man with slender legs without calves. Veal will be cheap, calves fall; said of a man whose calves fall away.
Calves head club. A club instituted by the Independents and Presbyterians, to commemorate the decapitation of King Charles I. Their chief fare was calves heads; and they drank their wine and ale out of calves skulls.
Calibogus. Rum and spruce beer, American beverage.
Calle. A cloak or gown. Cant.
Cambridge fortune. A wind-mill and a water-mill, used to signify a woman without any but personal endowments.
Cambridge oak. A willow.
Cambrade. A chamber fellow; a Spanish military term. Soldiers were in that country divided into chambers, five men making a chamber, whence it was generally used to signify companion.
Camesa. A shirt or shift. Cant. Spanish.
Camp candlestick. A bottle, or soldier’s bayonet.
Campbell’s academy. The hulks or lighters, on board of which felons are condemned to hard labour. Mr. Campbell was the first director of them. See Academy and Floating academy.
Canary bird. A jail bird, a person used to be kept in a cage; also, in the canting sense, guineas.
Candlesticks. Bad, small, or untunable bells. Hark! how the candlesticks rattle.
Candy. Drunk. Irish.
Cane. To lay Cane upon Abel; to beat any one with a cane or stick.
Cank. Dumb.
Cannister. The head. To mill his cannister; to break his head.
Cannikin. A small can: also, in the canting sense, the plague.
Cant. An hypocrite, a double-tongue palavering fellow. See Palaver.
Cant. To cant; to toss or throw: as, Cant a slug into your bread room; drink a dram. Sea wit.
Canticle. A parish clerk.
Canting. Preaching with a whining, affected tone, perhaps a corruption of chaunting; some derive it from Andrew Cant, a famous Scotch preacher, who used that whining manner of expression. Also a kind of gibberish used by thieves and gypsies, called likewise pedlar’s French, the slang, &c. &c.
Canters, or The canting crew. Thieves, beggars, and gypsies, or any others using the canting lingo. See Lingo.
Canterbury story. A long roundabout tale.
To cap. To take one’s oath. I will cap downright; I will swear home. Cant.
To cap. To take off one’s hat or cap. To cap the quadrangle; a lesson of humility, or rather servility, taught undergraduates at the university, where they are obliged to cross the area of the college cap in hand, in reverence to the fellows who sometimes walk there. The same ceremony is observed on coming on the quarter deck of ships of war, although no officer should be on it.
To cap. To support another’s assertion or tale. To assist a man in cheating. The file kidded the joskin with sham books, and his pall capped; the deep one cheated the countryman with false cards, and his confederate assisted in the fraud.
Cap acquaintance. Persons slightly acquainted, or only so far as mutually to salute with the hat on meeting. A woman who endeavours to attract the notice of any particular man, is said to set her cap at him.
Caper merchant. A dancing master, or hop merchant; marchand des capriolles. French term. — To cut papers; to leap or jump in dancing. See Hop merchant.
Capping verses. Repeating Latin Verses in turn, beginning with the letter with which the last speaker left off.
Capon. A castrated cock, also an eunuch.
Capricornified. Cuckolded, hornified.
Capsize. To overturn or reverse. He took his broth till he capsized; he drank till he fell out of his chair. Sea Term.
Captain. Led captain; an humble dependant in a great family, who for a precarious subsistence, and distant hopes of preferment, suffers every kind of indignity, and is the butt of every species of joke or ill-humour. The small provision made for officers of the army and navy in time of peace, obliges many in both services to occupy this wretched station. The idea of the appellation is taken from a led horse, many of which for magnificence appear in the retinues of great personages on solemn occasions, such as processions, &c.
Captain copperthorne’s crew. All officers; a saying of a company where everyone strives to rule.
Captain lieutenant. Meat between veal and beef, the flesh of an old calf; a military simile, drawn from the officer of that denomination, who has only the pay of a lieutenant, with the rank of captain; and so is not entirely one or the other, but between both.
Captain podd. A celebrated master of a puppet-shew, in Ben Johnson’s time, whose name became a common one to signify any of that fraternity.
Captain queernabs. A shabby ill-dressed fellow.
Captain sharp. A cheating bully, or one in a set of gamblers, whose office is to bully any pigeon, who, suspecting roguery, refuses to pay what he has lost. Cant.
Captain tom. The leader of a mob; also the mob itself.
Caravan. A large sum of money; also, a person cheated of such sum. Cant.
Carbuncle face. A red face, full of pimples.
Cardinal. A cloak in fashion about the year 1760.
To Carouse. To drink freely or deep: from the German word expressing All out.
Carriers. A set of rogues who are employed to look out and watch upon the roads, at inns, &c. in order to carry information to their respective gangs, of a booty in prospect.
Carriers. Pigeons which carry expresses.
Carrion hunter. An undertaker; called also a cold cook, and death hunter. See Cold cook and Death hunter.
Carrots. Red hair.
Carrotty-pated. Ginger-hackled, red-haired. See Ginger-hackled.
Carry witchet. A sort of conundrum, puzzlewit, or riddle.
Cart. To put the cart before the horse; to mention the last part of a story first. To be flogged at the cart’s a-se or tail; persons guilty of petty larceny are frequently sentenced to be tied to the tail of a cart, and whipped by the common executioner, for a certain distance: the degree of severity in the execution is left to the discretion of the executioner, who, it is said, has cats of nine tails of all prices.
Carting. The punishment formerly inflicted on bawds, who were placed in a tumbrel or cart, and led through a town, that their persons might be known.
Carvel’s ring. The private parts of a woman. Ham Carvel, a jealous old doctor, being in bed with his wife, dreamed that the Devil gave him a ring, which, so long as he had it on his finger, would prevent his being made a cuckold: waking he found he had got his finger the Lord knows where. See Rabelais, and Prior’s versification of the story.
To cascade. To vomit.
Case. A house; perhaps from the Italian Casa. In the canting lingo it meant store or ware house, as well as a dwelling house. Tout that case; mark or observe that house. It is all bob, now let’s dub the gig of the case; now the coast is clear, let us break open the door of the house.
Case vrow. A prostitute attached to a particular bawdy house.
Cash, or Caffan. Cheese; Cant. See Caffan.
Caster. A cloak. Cant.
Castor. A hat. To prig a castor; to steal a hat.
Casting up one’s accounts. Vomiting.
Cat. A common prostitute. An old cat; a cross old woman.
Cat-heads. A Woman’s breasts. Sea phrase.
To cat, or Shoot the cat. To vomit from drunkenness.
Cat and bagpipean society. A society which met at their office in the great western road: in their summons, published in the daily papers, it was added, that the kittens might come with the old cats without being scratched.
Cat call. A kind of whistle, chiefly used at theatres, to interrupt the actors, and damn a new piece. It derives its name from one of its sounds, which greatly resembles the modulation of an intriguing boar cat.
Cat harping fashion. Drinking cross-ways, and not, as usual, over the left thumb. Sea term.
Cat in pan. To turn cat in pan, to change sides or parties; supposed originally to have been to turn Cate or Cake in pan.
Cat’s foot. To live under the cat’s foot; to be under the dominion of a wife hen-pecked. To live like dog and cat; spoken of married persons who live unhappily together. As many lives as a cat; cats, according to vulgar naturalists, have nine lives, that is one less than a woman. No more chance than a cat in hell without claws; said of one who enters into a dispute or quarrel with one greatly above his match.
Cat lap. Tea, called also scandal broth. See Scandal broth.
Cat match. When a rook or cully is engaged amongst bad bowlers.
Cat of nine tails. A scourge composed of nine strings of whip-cord, each string having nine knots.
Cat’s paw. To be made a cat’s paw of; to be made a tool or instrument to accomplish the purpose of another: an allusion to the story of a monkey, who made use of a cat’s paw to scratch a roasted chesnut out of the fire.
Cat’s sleep. Counterfeit sleep: cats often counterfeiting sleep, to decoy their prey near them, and then suddenly spring on them.
Cat sticks. Thin legs, compared to sticks with which boys play at cat. See Trapsticks.
Cat whipping, or Whipping the cat. A trick often practised on ignorant country fellows, vain of their strength, by laying a wager with them that they may be pulled through a pond by a cat. The bet being made, a rope is fixed round the waist of the party to be catted, and the end thrown across the pond, to which the cat is also fastened by a packthread, and three or four sturdy fellows are appointed to lead and whip the cat; these on a signal given, seize the end of the cord, and pretending to whip the cat, haul the astonished booby through the water. — To whip the cat, is also a term among tailors for working jobs at private houses, as practised in the country.
Catamaran. An old scraggy woman; from a kind of float made of spars and yards lashed together, for saving ship-wrecked persons.
Catch club. A member of the patch club; a bum bailiff.
Catch fart. A footboy; so called from such servants commonly following close behind their master or mistress.
Catch penny. Any temporary contrivance to raise a contribution on the public.
Catch pole. A bum bailiff, or sheriff’s officer.
Catching harvest. A dangerous time for a robbery, when many persons are on the road, on account of a horse-race, fair, or some other public meeting.
Cater cousins. Good friends. He and I are not cater cousins, i.e. we are not even cousins in the fourth degree, or four times removed; that is, we have not the least friendly connexion.
Caterpillar. A nick name for a soldier. In the year 1745, a soldier quartered at a house near Derby, was desired by his landlord to call upon him, whenever he came that way; for, added he, soldiers are the pillars of the nation. The rebellion being finished, it happened the same regiment was quartered in Derbyshire, when the soldier resolved to accept of his landlord’s invitation, and accordingly obtained leave to go to him: but, on his arrival, he was greatly surprised to find a very cold reception; whereupon expostulating with his landlord, he reminded him of his invitation, and the circumstance of his having said, soldiers were the pillars of the nation. If I did, answered the host, I meant CateRpiliars.
Caterwauling. Going out in the night in search of intrigues, like a cat in the gutters.
Cathedral. Old-fashioned. An old cathedral-bedstead, chair, &c.
Cattle. Sad cattle: whores or gypsies. Black cattle, bugs. Cant.
Cavaulting school. A Bawdy-house.
Caudge-pawed. Left-handed.
Cauliflower. A large white wig, such as is commonly worn by the dignified clergy, and was formerly by physicians. Also the private parts of a woman; the reason for which appellation is given in the following story: A woman, who was giving evidence in a cause wherein it was necessary to express those parts, made use of the term cauliflower; for which the judge on the bench, a peevish old fellow, reproved her, saying she might as well call it artichoke. Not so, my lord, replied she; for an artichoke has a bottom, but a **** and a cauliflower have none.
Cautions. The four cautions: I. Beware of a woman before. — II. Beware of a horse behind. —Iii. Beware of a cart side-ways. — IV. Beware of a priest every way.
Caw-handed, or Caw-pawed. Awkward, not dextrous, ready, or nimble.
Caxon. An old weather-beaten wig.
Cent per cent. An usurer.
Chafed. Well beaten; from Chauffe, warmed.
Chalkers. Men of wit, in Ireland, who in the night amuse themselves with cutting inoffensive passengers across the face with a knife. They are somewhat like those facetious gentlemen some time ago known in England by the title of Sweaters and Mohocks.
Chalking. The amusement above described.
Chap. A fellow; An odd chap; A strange fellow.
Chaperon. The cicisbeo, or gentleman usher to a lady; from the French.
Chapt. Dry or thirsty.
Charactered, or Lettered. Burnt in the hand. They have palmed the character upon him; they have burned him in the hand, Cant. — See Lettered.
Charm. A picklock. Cant.
Charren. The smoke of Charren. — His eyes water from the smoke of Charren; a man of that place coming out of his house weeping, because his wife had beat him, told his neighbours the smoke had made his eyes water.
Chatter box. One whose tongue runs twelve score to the dozen, a chattering man or woman.
Chatter broth. Tea. See Cat lap and Scandal broth.
Chatts. Lice: perhaps an abbreviation of chattels, lice being the chief live stock of chattels of beggars, gypsies, and the rest of the canting crew. Cant. — Also, according to the canting academy, the gallows.
Chates. The gallows. Cant.
Chaunter culls. Grub-street writers, who compose songs, carrols, &c. for ballad-singers. Cant.
Chaunt. A song.
To chaunt. To sing. To publish an account in the newspapers. The kiddey was chaunted for a toby; his examination concerning a highway robbery was published in the papers.
Chaw bacon. A countryman. A stupid fellow.
Cheapside. He came at it by way of Cheapside; he gave little or nothing for it, he bought it cheap.
Cheats. Sham sleeves to put over a dirty shift or shirt. See Shams.
Cheek by jowl. Side by side, hand to fist.
Cheeks. Ask cheeks near cunnyborough; the repartee of a St. Gilse’s fair one, who bids you ask her backside, anglice her a-se. A like answer is current in France: any one asking the road or distance to Macon, a city near Lyons, would be answered by a French lady of easy virtue, ‘Mettez votre nez dans mon cul, & vous serrez dans les Fauxbourgs.’
Cheese-toaster. A sword.
Cheese it; Be silent, be quiet, don’t do it. Cheese it, the coves are fly; be silent, the people understand our discourse.
Cheeser. A strong smelling fart.
Chelsea. A village near London, famous for the military hospital. To get Chelsea; to obtain the benefit of that hospital. Dead Chelsea, by G-d! an exclamation uttered by a grenadier at Fontenoy, on having his leg carried away by a cannon-ball.
Chest of tools. A shoe-black’s brush and wig, &c. Irish.
Cherry-coloured cat. A black cat, there being black cherries as well as red.
Cherubims. Peevish children, becausecherubimsand seraphims continually do cry.
Cheshire cat. He grins like a Cheshire cat; said of anyone who shews his teeth and gums in laughing.
Chick-a-biddy. A chicken, so called to and by little children.
Chicken-breasted. Said of a woman with scarce any breasts.
Chicken butcher. A poulterer.
Chicken-hammed. Persons whose legs and thighs are bent or archward outwards.
Chicken-hearted. Fearful, cowardly.
Chicken nabob. One returned from the East Indies with but a moderate fortune of fifty or sixty thousand pounds, a diminutive nabob: a term borrowed from the chicken turtle.
Child. To eat a child; to partake of a treat given to the parish officers, in part of commutation for a bastard child the common price was formerly ten pounds and a greasy chiu. See Greasy chin.
Chimney chops. An abusive appellation for a negro.
Chink. Money.
Chip. A child. A chip of the old block; a child who either in person or sentiments resembles its father or mother.
Chip. A brother chip; a person of the same trade or calling.
Chips, A nick name for a carpenter.
Chirping merry. Exhilarated with liquor. Chirping glass, a cheerful glass, that makes the company chirp like birds in spring.
Chit. An infant or baby.
Chitterlins. The bowels. There is a rumpus among my bowels, i.e. I have the colic. The frill of a shirt.
Chitty-faced. Baby-faced; said of one who has a childish look.
Chive, or Chiff. A knife, file: or saw. To chive the darbies; to file off the irons or fetters. To chive the bouhgs of the frows; to cut off women’s pockets.
Chivey. I gave him a good chivey; I gave him, a hearty Scolding.
Chiving lay. Cutting the braces of coaches behind, on which the coachman quitting the box, an accomplice robs the boot; also, formerly, cutting the back of the coach to steal the fine large wigs then worn.
Choak. Choak away, the churchyard’s near; a jocular saying to a person taken with a violent fit of coughing, or who has swallowed any thing, as it is called the wrong way; Choak, chicken, more are hatching: a like consolation.
Choak pear. Figuratively, an unanswerable objection: also a machine formerly used in Holland by robbers; it was of iron, shaped like a pear; this they forced into the mouths of persons from whom they intended to extort money; and on turning a key, certain interior springs thrust forth a number of points, in all directions, which so enlarged it, that it could not be taken out of the mouth: and the iron, being case-hardened, could not be filed: the only methods of getting rid of it, were either by cutting the mouth, or advertizing a reward for the key, These pears were also called pears of agony.
Choaking pye, or Cold pye, A punishment inflicted on any person sleeping in company: it consists in wrapping up cotton in a case or tube of paper, setting it on fire, and directing the smoke up the nostrils of the sleeper. See Howell’s cotgrave.
Chocolate. To give chocolate without sugar; to reprove. Military term.
Choice spirit. A thoughtless, laughing, singing, drunken fellow.
Chop. A blow. Boxing term.
To chop and change. To exchange backwards and forwards. To chop, in the canting sense, means making dispatch, or hurrying over any business: ex. The Autem bawler will soon quit the Hums, for he Chops up the Whiners; the parson will soon quit the pulpit, for he hurries over the prayers. See Autem bawler, hums, and Whiners,
Chop churches. Simoniacal dealers in livings, or other ecclesiastical preferments.
Chopping, lusty. A chopping boy or girl; a lusty child.
Chops. The mouth. I gave him a wherrit, or a souse, across the chops; I gave him a blow over the mouth, See Wherrit.
Chop-stick. A fork.
Chouder. A sea-dish, composed of fresh fish, salt pork, herbs, and sea-biscuits, laid in different layers, and stewed together.
To chouse. To cheat or trick: he choused me out of it. Chouse is also the term for a game like chuck-farthing.
Christ-cross row. The alphabet in a horn-book: called Christ-cross Row, from having, as an Irishman observed, Christ’s cross Prefixed before and After the twenty-four letters.
Christening. Erasing the name of the true maker from a stolen watch, and engraving a fictitious one in its place.
Christian poney. A chairman.
Christian. A tradesman who has faith, i.e. will give credit.
Christmas compliments. A cough, kibed heels, and a snotty nose.
Chub. He is a young chub, or a mere chub; i.e. a foolish fellow, easily imposed on: an illusion to a fish of that name, easily taken.
Chubby. Round-faced, plump.
Chuck. My chuck; a term of endearment.
Chuck farthing. A parish clerk.
Chuckle-headed. Stupid, thick-headed.
Chuffy. Round-faced, chubby.
Chum. A chamber-fellow, particularly at the universities and in prison.
Chummage. Money paid by the richer sort of prisoners in the Fleet and King’s Bench, to the poorer, for their share of a room. When prisons are very full, which is too often the case, particularly on the eve of an insolvent act, two or three persons are obliged to sleep in a room. A prisoner who can pay for being alone, chuses two poor chums, who for a stipulated price, called chummage, give up their share of the room, and sleep on the stairs, or, as the term is, ruff it.
Chunk. Among printers, a journeyman who refuses to work for legal wages; the same as the flint among taylors. See Flint.
Church warden. A Sussex name fora shag, or cormorant, probably from its voracity.
Church work. Said of any work that advances slowly.
Churchyard cough. A cough that is likely to terminate in death.
Churk. The udder.
Churl. Originally, a labourer or husbandman: figuratively a rude, surly, boorish fellow. To put a churl upon a gentleman; to drink malt liquor immediately after having drunk wine.
Cinder garbler. A servant maid, from her business of sifting the ashes from the cinders. Custom-house wit.
Circumbendibus. A roundabout way, or story. He took such a circumbendibus; he took such a circuit.
Cit. A citizen of London.
City college. Newgate.
Civility money. A reward claimed by bailiffs for executing their office with civility.
Civil reception. A house of civil reception; a bawdy-house, or nanny-house. See Nanny-house.
Clack. A tongue, chiefly applied to women; a simile drawn from the clack of a water-mill.
Clack-loft. A pulpit, so called by orator Henley.
Clammed. Starved.
Clan. A family’s tribe or brotherhood; a word much used in Scotland. The head of the clan; the chief: an allusion to a story of a Scotchman, who, when a very large louse crept down his arm, put him back again, saying he was the head of the clan, and that, if injured, all the rest would resent it.
Clank. A silver tankard. Cant.
Clank napper. A silver tankard stealer. See Rum bubber.
Clanker. A great lie.
Clap. A venereal taint. He went out by Had’em, and came round by Clapham home; i.e. he went out a wenching, and got a clap.
Clap on the shoulder. An arrest for debt; whence a bum bailiff is called a shoulder-clapper.
Clapper. The tongue of a bell, and figuratively of a man or woman.
Clapper claw. To scold, to abuse, or claw off with the tongue.
Clapperdogeon. A beggar born. Cant.
Claret. French red wine; figuratively, blood. I tapped his claret; I broke his head, and made the blood run. Claret-faced; red-faced.
Clawed off. Severely beaten or whipped; also smartly poxed or clapped.
Clear. Very drunk. The cull is clear, let’s bite him; the fellow is very drunk, let’s cheat him. Cant.
Cleaver. One that will cleave; used of a forward or wanton woman.
Clean. Expert; clever. Amongst the knuckling coves he is reckoned very clean; he is considered very expert as a pickpocket.
Clerked. Soothed, funned, imposed on. The cull will not be clerked; i.e. the fellow will not be imposed on by fair words.
Cleymes. Artificial sores, made by beggars to excite charity.
Click. A blow. A click in the muns; a blow or knock in the face. Cant.
To click. To snatch. To click a nab; to snatch a hat. Cant.
Clicker. A salesman’s servant; also, one who proportions out the different shares of the booty among thieves.
Clicket. Copulation of foxes; and thence used, in a canting sense, for that of men and women: as, The cull and the mort are at clicket in the dyke; the man and woman are copulating in the ditch.
Climb. To climb the three trees with a ladder; to ascend the gallows.
Clinch. A pun or quibble. To clinch, or to clinch the nail; to confirm an improbable story by another: as, A man swore he drove a tenpenny nail through the moon; a bystander said it was true, for he was on the other side and clinched it.
Clink. A place in the Borough of Southwark, formerly privileged from arrests; and inhabited by lawless vagabonds of every denomination, called, from the place of their residence, clinkers. Also a gaol, from the clinking of the prisoners’ chains or fetters: he is gone to clink.
Clinkers. A kind of small Dutch bricks; also irons worn by prisoners; a crafty fellow.
To clip. To hug or embrace: to clip and cling. To clip the coin; to diminish the current coin. To clip the king’s English; to be unable to speak plain through drunkenness.
Cloak twitchers. Rogues who lurk about the entrances into dark alleys, and bye-lanes, to snatch cloaks from the shoulders of passengers.
Clod hopper. A country farmer, or ploughman.
Clod pate. A dull, heavy booby.
Clod pole. The same.
Close. As close as God’s curse to a whore’s a-se: close as shirt and shitten a-se.
Close-fisted. Covetous or stingy.
Closh. A general name given by the mobility to Dutch seamen, being a corruption of Claus, the abbreviation of Nicholas, a name very common among the men of that nation.
Cloth market. He is just come from the cloth market, i.e. from between the sheets, he is just risen from bed.
Cloud. Tobacco. Under a cloud; in adversity.
Cloven, cleave, or Cleft. A term used for a woman who passes for a maid, but is not one.
Cloven foot. To spy the cloven foot in any business; to discover some roguery or something bad in it: a saying that alludes to a piece of vulgar superstition, which is, that, let the Devil transform himself into what shape he will, he cannot hide his cloven foot
To chuck. To shew a propensity for a man. The mors chucks; the wench wants to be doing.
Clout. A blow. I’ll give you a clout on your jolly nob; I’ll give you a blow on your head. It also means a handkerchief. Cant. Any pocket handkerchief except a silk one.
Clouted shoon. Shoes tipped with iron.
Clouting lay. Picking pockets of handkerchiefs.
Clover. To be, or live, in clover; to live luxuriously. Clover is the most desirable food for cattle.
Clowes. Rogues.
Cloy. To steal. To cloy the clout; to steal the handkerchief. To cloy the lour; to steal money. Cant.
Cloves. Thieves, robbers, &c.
Club. A meeting or association, where each man is to spend an equal and stated sum, called his club.
Club law. Argumentum bacculinum, in which an oaken stick is a better plea than an act of parliament.
Clump. A lump. Clumpish; lumpish, stupid.
Clunch. An awkward clownish fellow.
To clutch the fist. To clench or shut the hand. Clutch fisted; covetous, stingy. See Close-fisted.
Clutches. Hands, gripe, power.
Clutter. A stir, noise, or racket: what a confounded clutter here is!
Cly. Money; also a pocket. He has filed the cly; he has picked a pocket. Cant.
Cly the jerk: To be whipped. Cant.
Clyster pipe. A nick name for an apothecary.
Coach wheel. A half crown piece is a fore coach wheel, and a crown piece a hind coach wheel; the fore wheels of a coach being less than the hind ones.
To coax. To fondle, or wheedle. To coax a pair of stockings; to pull down the part soiled into the shoes, so as to give a dirty pair of stockings the appearance of clean ones. Coaxing is also used, instead of darning, to hide the holes about the ancles.
Cob. A Spanish dollar.
Cob, or Cobbing. A punishment used by the seamen for petty offences, or irregularities, among themselves: it consists in bastonadoing the offender on the posteriors with a cobbing stick, or pipe staff; the number usually inflicted is a dozen. At the first stroke the executioner repeats the word Watch, on which all persons present are to take off their hats, on pain of like punishment: the last stroke is always given as hard as possible, and is called The Purse. Ashore, among soldiers, where this punishment is sometimes adopted, Watch and The purse are not included in the number, but given over and above, or, in the vulgar phrase, free gratis for nothing. This piece of discipline is also inflicted in Ireland, by the school-boys, on persons coming into the school without taking off their hats; it is there called school butter.
Cobble. A kind of boat.
To cobble. To mend, or patch; likewise to do a thing in a bungling manner.
Cobble colter. A turkey.
Cobbler. A mender of shoes, an improver of the understandings of his customers; a translator.
Cobblers punch. Treacle, vinegar, gin, and water.
Cock, or Chief cock of the walk. The leading man in any society or body; the best boxer in a village or district.
Cock ale. A provocative drink.
Cock alley or Cock lane. The private parts of a woman.
Cock and a bull story. A roundabout story, without head or tail, i.e. beginning or ending.
Cock of the company. A weak man, who from the desire of being the head of the company associates with low people, and pays all the reckoning.
Cock-a-whoop. Elevated, in high-spirits, transported with joy.
Cock bawd. A male keeper of a bawdy-house.
Cock hoist. A cross buttock.
Cockish. Wanton, forward. A cockish wench; a forward coming girl.
Cockles. To cry cockles; to be hanged: perhaps from the noise made whilst strangling. Cant. — This will rejoice the cockles of one’s heart; a saying in praise of wine, ale, or spirituous liquors.
Cock pimp. The supposed husband of a bawd.
Cock robin. A soft, easy fellow.
Cock-sure. Certain: a metaphor borrowed front the cock of a firelock, as being much more certain to fire than the match.
Cock your eye. Shut one eye: thus translated into apothecaries Latin. — Gallus tuus ego.
Cocker. One fond of the diversion of cock-fighting.
Cockney: A nick name given to the citizens of London, or persons born within the sound of Bow bell, derived from the following story: A citizen of London, being in the country, and hearing a horse neigh, exclaimed, Lord! how that horse laughs! A by-stander telling him that noise was called neighing, the next morning, when the cock crowed, the citizen to shew he had not forgot what was told him, cried out, Do you hear how the cock neighs? The king of the cockneys is mentioned among the regulations for the sports and shows formerly held in the Middle Temple on Childermas Day, where he had his officers, a marshal, constable, butler, &c. See Dugdale’s Origines juridiciales, p. 247. — Ray says, the interpretation of the word Cockney, is, a young person coaxed or conquered, made wanton; or a nestle cock, delicately bred and brought up, so as, when arrived a man’s estate, to be unable to bear the least hardship. Whatever may be the origin of this appellation, we learn from the following verses, attributed to Hugh Bigot, Earl of Norfolk, that it was in use, in the time of king Henry II.
Was I in my castle at Bungay,
Fast by the river Waveney,
I would not care for the king of Cockney;
i.e. the king of London.
Cockshut time. The evening, when fowls go to roost.
Cod. A cod of money: a good sum of money.
Codders. Persons employed by the gardeners to gather peas.
Codger. An old codger: an old fellow.
Cod piece. The fore flap of a man’s breeches. Do they bite, master? where, in the cod piece or collar? — a jocular attack on a patient angler by watermen, &c.
Cods. The scrotum. Also a nick name for a curate: a rude fellow meeting a curate, mistook him for the rector, and accosted him with the vulgar appellation of Bol — ks the rector, No, Sir, answered he; only Cods the curate, at your service.
Cod’s head. A stupid fellow.
Coffee house. A necessary house. To make a coffee-house of a woman’s ****; to go in and out and spend nothing.
Cog. The money, or whatsoever the sweeteners drop to draw in a bubble.
Cog. A tooth. A queer cog; a rotten tooth. How the cull flashes his queer cogs; how the fool shews his rotten teeth.
To cog. To cheat with dice; also to coax or wheedle, To cog a die; to conceal or secure a die. To cog a dinner; to wheedle one out of a dinner.
Cogue. A dram of any spirituous liquor.
Coker. A lie.
Cokes. The fool in the play of Bartholomew Fair: perhaps a contraction of the word Coxcomb.
Colcannon. Potatoes and cabbage pounded together in a mortar, and then stewed with butter: an Irish dish.
Cold. You will catch cold at that; a vulgar threat or advice to desist from an attempt. He caught cold by lying in bed barefoot; a saying of any one extremely tender or careful of himself.
Cold burning. A punishment inflicted by private soldiers on their comrades for trifling offences, or breach of their mess laws; it is administered in the following manner: The prisoner is set against the wall, with the arm which is to be burned tied as high above his head as possible. The executioner then ascends a stool, and having a bottle of cold water, pours it slowly down the sleeve of the delinquent, patting him, and leading the water gently down his body, till it runs out at his breeches knees: this is repeated to the other arm, if he is sentenced to be burned in both.
Cold cook. An undertaker of funerals, or carrion hunter. See Carrion hunter.
Cold iron. A sword, or any other weapon for cutting or stabbing. I gave him two inches of cold iron into his beef.
Cold meat. A dead wife is the beat cold meat in a man’s house.
Cold pig. To give cold pig is a punishment inflicted on sluggards who lie too long in bed: it consists in pulling off all the bed clothes from them, and throwing cold water upon them.
Cold pudding. This is said to settle one’s love.
Cole. Money. Post the cole: pay down the money.
Coliander, or Coriander seeds. Money.
Collar day. Execution day.
College. Newgate or any other prison. New College: the Royal Exchange. King’s College: the King’s Bench prison. He has been educated at the steel, and took his last degree at college; he has received his education at the house of correction, and was hanged at Newgate.
College cove. The College cove has numbered him, and if he is knocked down he’ll be twisted; the turnkey of Newgate has told the judge how many times the prisoner has been tried before and therefore if he is found guilty, he certainly will be hanged. It is said to be the custom of the Old Bailey for one of the turnkeys of Newgate to give information to the judge how many times an old offender has been tried, by holding up as many fingers as the number of times the prisoner has been before arraigned at that bar.
Collegiates. Prisoners of the one, and shopkeepers of the other of those places.
Collector. A highwayman.
To collogue. To wheedle or coax.
Cook ruffian, who roasted the devil in his feathers. A bad cook.
Cool crape. A shroud.
Cooler. A woman.
Cooler. The backside. Kiss my cooler. Kiss my a-se. It is principally used to signify a woman’s posteriors.
Cool lady. A female follower of the camp, who sells brandy.
Cool nants. Brandy.
Cool tankard. Wine and water, with lemon, sugar, and burrage.
Colquarron. A man’s neck. His colquarron is just about to be twisted; he is just going to be hanged. Cant.
Colt. One who lets horses to highwaymen; also a boy newly initiated into roguery; a grand or petty juryman on his first assize. Cant.
Coltage. A fine or beverage paid by colts on their first entering into their offices.
Colt bowl. Laid short of the jack by a colt bowler, i.e. a person raw or unexperienced in the art of bowling.
Colt’s tooth. An old fellow who marries or keeps a young girl, is said to have a colt’s tooth in his head.
Colt veal. Coarse red veal, more like the flesh of a colt than that of a calf.
Comb. To comb one’s head; to clapperclaw, or scold any one: a woman who lectures her husband, is said to comb his head. She combed his head with a joint stool; she threw a stool at him.
Come. To come; to lend. Has he come it; has he lent it? To come over any one; to cheat or over reach him. Coming wench; a forward wench, also a breeding woman.
Coming! So is christmas. Said of a person who has long been called, and at length answers, Coming!
Comfortable importance. A wife.
Commission. A shirt. Cant.
Commode. A woman’s head dress.
Commodity. A woman’s commodity; the private parts of a modest woman, and the public parts of a prostitute.
Commons. The house of commons; the necessary house.
Company. To see company; to enter into a course of prostitution.
Compliment. See Christmas.
Comus’s court. A social meeting formerly held at the Half Moon tavern Cheapside.
Confect. Counterfeited.
Conger. To conger; the agreement of a set or knot of booksellers of London, that whosoever of them shall buy a good copy, the rest shall take off such a particular number, in quires, at a stated price; also booksellers joining to buy either a considerable or dangerous copy.
Congo. Will you lap your congo with me? will you drink tea with me?
Conny wabble. Eggs and brandy beat up together. Irish.
Conscience keeper. A superior, who by his influence makes his dependants act as he pleases.
Content. The cull’s content; the man is past complaining: a saying of a person murdered for resisting the robbers. Cant.
Content. A thick liquor, in imitation of chocolate, made of milk and gingerbread.
Contra dance. A dance where the dancers of the different sexes stand opposite each other, instead of side by side, as in the minuet, rigadoon, louvre, &c. and now corruptly called a country dance.
Conundrums. Enigmatical conceits.
Conveniency. A necessary. A leathern conveniency, a coach.
Cooped up. Imprisoned, confined like a fowl in a coop.
Coquet. A jilt.
Corinthians: Frequenters of brothels. Also an impudent, brazen-faced fellow, perhaps from the Corinthian brass.
Cork-brained. Light-headed, foolish.
Cornish hug. A particular lock in wrestling, peculiar to the people of that county.
Corny-faced. A very red pimpled face.
Corporal. To mount a corporal and four; to be guilty of onanism: the thumb is the corporal, the four fingers the privates.
Corporation. A large belly. He has a glorious corporation; he has a very prominent belly.
Corporation. The magistrates, &c. of a corporate town. Corpus sine ratione. Freemen of a corporation’s work; neither strong nor handsome.
Cosset. A foundling. Cosset colt or lamb; a colt or lamb brought up by hand.
Costard. The head. I’ll smite your costard; I’ll give you a knock on the head.
Costard monger. A dealer in fruit, particularly apples.
Cot, or Quot. A man who meddles with women’s household business, particularly in the kitchen. The punishment commonly inflicted on a quot, is pinning a greasy dishclout to the skirts of his coat.
Cove. A man, a fellow, a rogue. The cove was bit; the rogue was outwitted. The cove has bit the cole; the rogue has got the money. Cant.
Covent, or Convent garden, vulgarly called Common garden. Anciently, the garden belonging to a dissolved monastery; now famous for being the chief market in London for fruit, flowers, and herbs. The theatres are situated near it. In its environs are many brothels, and not long ago, the lodgings of the second order of ladies of easy virtue were either there, or in the purlieus of Drury Lane.
Covent garden abbess. A bawd.
Covent garden ague. The venereal disease. He broke his shins against Covent Garden rails; he caught the venereal disorder.
Covent garden nun. A prostitute.
Coventry. To send one to Coventry; a punishment inflicted by officers of the army on such of their brethren as are testy, or have been guilty of improper behaviour, not worthy the cognizance of a court martial. The person sent to Coventry is considered as absent; no one must speak to or answer any question he asks, except relative to duty, under penalty of being also sent to the same place. On a proper submission, the penitent is recalled, and welcomed by the mess, as just returned from a journey to Coventry.
Covey. A collection of whores. What a fine covey here is, if the Devil would but throw his net!
To couch a hogshead. To lie down to sleep. Cant.
Counterfeit crank. A general cheat, assuming all sorts of characters; one conterfeiting the falling sickness.
Country harry. A waggoner. Cant.
Country put. An ignorant country fellow.
County work. Said of any work that advances slowly.
Court card. A gay fluttering coxcomb.
Court holy water, court promises. Fair speeches and promises, without performance.
Court of assistants. A court often applied to by young women who marry old men.
Cow. To sleep like a cow, with a **** at one’s a-se; said of a married man; married men being supposed to sleep with their backs towards their wives, according to the following proclamation:
All you that in your beds do lie,
Turn to your wives, and occupy:
And when that you have done your best,
Turn a-se to a-se, and take your rest.
Cow juice. Milk.
Cow’s baby. A calf.
Cow’s courant. Gallop and sh —— e.
Cow-handed. Awkward.
Cow-hearted. Fearful.
Cow itch. The product of a sort of bean, which excites an insufferable itching, used chiefly for playing tricks.
Cow’s spouse. A bull.
Cow’s thumb. Done to a cow’s thumb; done exactly.
Coxcomb. Anciently, a fool. Fools, in great families, wore a cap with bells, on the top of which was a piece of red cloth, in the shape of a cock’s comb. At present, coxcomb signifies a fop, or vain self-conceited fellow.
Crab. To catch a crab; to fall backwards by missing one’s stroke in rowing.
Crab lanthorn. A peevish fellow.
Crab louse. A species of louse peculiar to the human body; the male is denominated a cock, the female a hen.
Crab shells. Shoes. Irish.
Crabs. A losing throw to the main at hazard.
Crabbed. Sour, ill-tempered, difficult.
Crack. A whore.
To crack. To boast or brag; also to break. I cracked his napper; I broke his head.
The crack, or All the crack. The fashionable theme, the go. The Crack Lay, of late is used, in the cant language, to signify the art and mystery of house-breaking.
Cracker. Crust, sea biscuit, or ammunition loaf; also the backside. Farting crackers; breeches.
Crackish. Whorish.
Cracking tools. Implements of house-breaking, such as a crow, a center bit, false keys, &c.
Crackmans. Hedges. The cull thought to have loped by breaking through the crackmans, but we fetched him back by a nope on the costard, which stopped his jaw; the man thought to have escaped by breaking through the hedge, but we brought him back by a great blow on the head, which laid him speechless.
Cracksman. A house-breaker. The kiddy is a clever cracksman; the young fellow is a very expert house-breaker.
Crag. The neck.
Cramp rings. Bolts, shackles, or fetters. Cant.
Cramp words. Sentence of death passed on a criminal by a judge. He has just undergone the cramp word; sentence has just been passed on him. Cant.
Crank. Gin and water; also, brisk, pert.
Crank. The falling sickness. Cant.
To crash. To kill. Crash that cull; kill that fellow. Cant.
Crashing cheats. Teeth.
Craw thumpers. Roman catholics, so called from their beating their breasts in the confession of their sins. See Brisket beater, and Breast fleet.
Cream-pot love. Such as young fellows pretend to dairymaids, to get cream and other good things from them.
To creeme. To slip or slide any thing into the hands of another. Cant.
Creepers. Gentlemen’s companions, lice.
Crew. A knot or gang; also a boat or ship’s company. The canting crew are thus divided into twenty-three orders, which see under the different words:
Men.
1 Rufflers 2 Upright Men 3 Hookers or Anglers 4 Rogues 5 Wild Rogues 6 Priggers of Prancers 7 Palliardes 8 Fraters 9 Jarkmen, or Patricoes 10 Fresh Water Mariners, or Whip Jackets 11 Drummerers 12 Drunken Tinkers 13 Swadders, or Pedlars 14 Abrams.
Women.
1 Demanders for Glimmer or Fire 2 Bawdy Baskets 3 Morts 4 Autem Morts 5 Walking Morts 6 Doxies 7 Delles 8 Kinching Morts 9 Kinching Coes
Crib. A house. To crack a crib: to break open a house.
To crib. To purloin, or appropriate to one’s own use, part of any thing intrusted to one’s care.
To fight a crib. To make a sham fight. Bear garden term.
Cribbage-faced. Marked with the small pox, the pits bearing a kind of resemblance to the holes in a cribbage-board.
Cribbeys, or Cribby islands. Blind alleys, courts, or bye-ways; perhaps from the houses built there being cribbed out of the common way or passage; and islands, from the similarity of sound to the Caribbee Islands.
Crim. con. money. Damages directed by a jury to be paid by a convicted adulterer to the injured husband, for criminal conversation with his wife.
Crimp. A broker or factor, as a coal crimp, who disposes of the cargoes of the Newcastle coal ships; also persons employed to trapan or kidnap recruits for the East Indian and African companies. To crimp, or play crimp; to play foul or booty: also a cruel manner of cutting up fish alive, practised by the London fishmongers, in order to make it eat firm; cod, and other crimped fish, being a favourite dish among voluptuaries and epicures.
Crinkum crankum. A woman’s commodity. See Spectator.
Crinkums. The foul or venereal disease.
Cripple. Sixpence; that piece being commonly much bent and distorted.
Crispin. A shoemaker: from a romance, wherein a prince of that name is said to have exercised the art and mystery of a shoemaker, thence called the gentle craft: or rather from the saints Crispinus and Crispianus, who according to the legend, were brethren born at Rome, from whence they travelled to Soissons in France, about the year 303, to propagate the Christian religion; but, because they would not be chargeable to others for their maintenance, they exercised the trade of shoemakers: the governor of the town discovering them to be Christians, ordered them to be beheaded, about the year 303; from which time they have been the tutelar saints of the shoemakers.
Crispin’s holiday. Every Monday throughout the year, but most particularly the 25th of October, being the anniversary of Crispinus and Crispianus.
Crispin’s lance. An awl.
Croaker. One who is always foretelling some accident or misfortune: an allusion to the croaking of a raven, supposed ominous.
Croakumshire. Northumberland, from the particular croaking the pronunciation of the people of that county, especially about Newcastle and Morpeth, where they are said to be born with a burr in their throats, which prevents their pronouncing the letter r.
Croakers. Forestallers, called also Kidders and Tranters.
Crocodile’s tears. The tears of a hypocrite. Crocodiles are fabulously reported to shed tears over their prey before they devour it.
Crocus, or Crocus metallorum. A nick name for a surgeon of the army and navy.
Croker. A groat, or four pence.
Crone. An old ewe whose teeth are worn out; figuratively, a toothless old beldam.
Crony. An intimate companion, a comrade; also a confederate in a robbery.
Crook. Sixpence.
Crook back. Sixpence; for the reason of this name, see Cripple.
Crook your elbow. To crook one’s elbow, and wish it may never come straight, if the fact then affirmed is not true — according to the casuists of Bow-street and St. Giles’s, adds great weight and efficacy to an oath.
Crook shanks. A nickname for a man with bandy legs. He buys his boots in Crooked Lane, and his stockings in Bandy-legged Walk; his legs grew in the night, therefore could not see to grow straight; jeering sayings of men with crooked legs.
Crop. A nick name for a presbyterian: from their cropping their hair, which they trimmed close to a bowl-dish, placed as a guide on their heads; whence they were likewise called roundheads. See Roundheads.
Crop. To be knocked down for a crop; to be condemned to be hanged. Cropped, hanged.
Cropping drums. Drummers of the foot guards, or Chelsea hospital, who find out weddings, and beat a point of war to serenade the new married couple, and thereby obtain money.
Croppen. The tail. The croppen of the rotan; the tail of the cart. Croppen ken: the necessary-house. Cant.
Cropsick. Sickness in the stomach, arising from drunkenness.
Cross. To come home by weeping cross; to repent at the conclusion.
Cross dishonest. A cross cove; any person who lives by stealing or in a dishonest manner.
Cross bite. One who combines with a sharper to draw in a friend; also, to counteract or disappoint. Cant. — This is peculiarly used to signify entrapping a man so as to obtain Crim. com. money, in which the wife, real or supposed, conspires with the husband.
Cross buttock. A particular lock or fall in the Broughtonian art, which, as Mr. Fielding observes, conveyed more pleasant sensations to the spectators than the patient.
Cross patch. A peevish boy or girl, or rather an unsocial ill-tempered man or woman.
To crow. To brag, boast, or triumph. To crow over any one; to keep him in subjection: an image drawn from a cock, who crows over a vanquished enemy. To pluck a crow; to reprove any one for a fault committed, to settle a dispute. To strut like a crow in a gutter; to walk proudly, or with an air of consequence.
Crowd. A fiddle: probably from Crooth, the Welch name for that instrument.
Crowdero. A fiddler.
Crowdy. Oatmeal and water, or milk; a mess much eaten in the north.
Crow fair. A visitation of the clergy. See Review of the black cuirassiers.
Crown office. The head. I fired into her keel upwards; my eyes and limbs Jack, the crown office was full; I s — k-d a woman with her a-e upwards, she was so drunk, that her head lay on the ground.
Cruisers. Beggars, or highway spies, who traverse the road, to give intelligence of a booty; also rogues ready to snap up any booty that may offer, like privateers or pirates on a cruise.
Crummy. Fat, fleshy. A fine crummy dame; a fat woman. He has picked up his crumbs finely of late; he has grown very fat, or rich, of late.
Crump. One who helps solicitors to affidavit men, or false witnesses. —‘I wish you had, Mrs. Crump;’ a Gloucestershire saying, in answer to a wish for any thing; implying, you must not expect any assistance from the speaker. It is said to have originated from the following incident: One Mrs. Crump, the wife of a substantial farmer, dining with the old Lady Coventry, who was extremely deaf, said to one of the footmen, waiting at table, ‘I wish I had a draught of small beer,’ her modesty not permitting her to desire so fine a gentleman to bring it: the fellow, conscious that his mistress could not hear either the request or answer, replied, without moving, ‘I wish you had, Mrs. Crump.’ These wishes being again repeated by both parties, Mrs. Crump got up from the table to fetch it herself; and being asked by my lady where she was going, related what had passed. The story being told abroad, the expression became proverbial.
Crump-backed. Hump-backed.
Crusty beau. One that uses paint and cosmetics, to obtain a fine complexion.
Crusty fellow. A surly fellow.
Cub. An unlicked cub; an unformed, ill-educated young man, a young nobleman or gentleman on his travels: an allusion to the story of the bear, said to bring its cub into form by licking. Also, a new gamester.
Cuckold. The husband of an incontinent wife: cuckolds, however, are Christians, as we learn by the following story: An old woman hearing a man call his dog Cuckold, reproved him sharply, saying, ‘Sirrah, are not you ashamed to call a dog by a Christian’s name?’ To cuckold the parson; to bed with one’s wife before she has been churched.
Cucumbers. Taylors, who are jocularly said to subsist, during the summer, chiefly on cucumbers.
Cuff. An old cuff; an old man. To cuff Jonas; said of one who is knock-kneed, or who beats his sides to keep himself warm in frosty weather; called also Beating the booby.
Cuffin. A man.
Cull. A man, honest or otherwise. A bob cull; a good-natured, quiet fellow. Cant.
Cullability. A disposition liable to be cheated, an unsuspecting nature, open to imposition.
Cully. A fog or fool: also, a dupe to women: from the Italian word coglione, a blockhead.
Culp. A kick or blow: from the words mea culpa, being that part of the popish liturgy at which the people beat their breasts; or, as the vulgar term is, thump their craws.
Cundum. The dried gut of a sheep, worn by men in the act of coition, to prevent venereal infection; said to have been invented by one colonel Cundum. These machines were long prepared and sold by a matron of the name of Philips, at the Green Canister, in Half-moon-street, in the Strand. That good lady having acquired a fortune, retired from business; but learning that the town was not well served by her successors, she, out of a patriotic zeal for the public welfare, returned to her occupation; of which she gave notice by divers hand-bills, in circulation in the year 1776. Also a false scabbard over a sword, and the oil-skin case for holding the colours of a regiment.
Cunningham. A punning appellation for a simple fellow.
Cunning man. A cheat, who pretends by his skill in astrology to assist persons in recovering stolen goods: and also to tell them their fortunes, and when, how often, and to whom they shall be married; likewise answers all lawful questions, both by sea and land. This profession is frequently occupied by ladies.
Cunning shaver. A sharp fellow, one that trims close, i.e. cheats ingeniously.
Cunny-thumbed. To double one’s fist with the thumb inwards, like a woman.
C**T. The chonnos of the Greek, and the cunnus of the Latin dictionaries; a nasty name for a nasty thing: un con Miege.
Cup of the creature. A cup of good liquor.
Cup-shot. Drunk.
Cupboard love. Pretended love to the cook, or any other person, for the sake of a meal. My guts cry cupboard; i.e. I am hungry
Cupid, blind cupid. A jeering name for an ugly blind man: Cupid, the god of love, being frequently painted blind. See Blind cupid.
Cur. A cut or curtailed dog. According to the forest laws, a man who had no right to the privilege of the chase, was obliged to cut or law his dog: among other modes of disabling him from disturbing the game, one was by depriving him of his tail: a dog so cut was called a cut or curtailed dog, and by contraction a cur. A cur is figuratively used to signify a surly fellow.
Curbing law. The act of hooking goods out of windows: the curber is the thief, the curb the hook. Cant.
Cure a-se. A dyachilon plaister, applied to the parts galled by riding.
Curle. Clippings of money, which curls up in the operation. Cant.
Curmudgeon. A covetous old fellow, derived, according to some, from the French term coeur mechant.
Curry. To curry favour; to obtain the favour of a person be coaxing or servility. To curry any one’s hide; to beat him.
Curse of scotland. The nine of diamonds; diamonds, it is said, imply royalty, being ornaments to the imperial crown; and every ninth king of Scotland has been observed for many ages, to be a tyrant and a curse to that country. Others say it is from its similarity to the arms of Argyle; the Duke of Argyle having been very instrumental in bringing about the union, which, by some Scotch patriots, has been considered as detrimental to their country.
Curse of god. A cockade.
Cursitors. Broken petty-fogging attornies, or Newgate solicitors. Cant.
Curtails. Thieves who cut off pieces of stuff hanging out of shop windows, the tails of women’s gowns, &c.; also, thieves wearing short jackets.
Curtain lecture. A woman who scolds her husband when in bed, is said to read him a curtain lecture.
Curtezan. A prostitute.
Cushion. He has deserved the cushion; a saying of one whose wife is brought to bed of a boy: implying, that having done his business effectually, he may now indulge or repose himself.
Cushion thumper, or Duster. A parson; many of whom in the fury of their eloquence, heartily belabour their cushions.
Custard cap. The cap worn by the sword-bearer of the city of London, made hollow at the top like a custard.
Custom-house goods. The stock in trade of a prostitute, because fairly entered.
Cut. Drunk. A little cut over the head; slightly intoxicated. To cut; to leave a person or company. To cut up well; to die rich.
To cut. (Cambridge.) To renounce acquaintance with any one is to Cut him. There are several species of the Cut. Such as the cut direct, the cut indirect, the cut sublime, the cut infernal, &c. The cut direct, is to start across the street, at the approach of the obnoxious person in order to avoid him. The cut indirect, is to look another way, and pass without appearing to observe him. The cut sublime, is to admire the top of King’s College Chapel, or the beauty of the passing clouds, till he is out of sight. The cut infernal, is to analyze the arrangement of your shoe-strings, for the same purpose.
To cut bene. To speak gently. To cut bene whiddes; to give good words. To cut queer whiddes; to give foul language. To cut a bosh, or a flash; to make a figure. Cant.
To cutty-eye. To look out of the corners of one’s eyes, to leer, to look askance. The cull cutty-eyed at us; the fellow looked suspicious at us.
Dab. An adept; a dab at any feat or exercise. Dab, quoth Dawkins, when he hit his wife on the a-se with a pound of butter.
Dace. Two pence. Tip me a dace; lend me two pence. Cant.
Daddles. Hands. Tip us your daddle; give me your hand. Cant.
Daddy. Father. Old daddy; a familiar address to an old man. To beat daddy mammy; the first rudiments of drum beating, being the elements of the roll.
Daggers. They are at daggers drawing; i.e. at enmity, ready to fight.
Dairy. A woman’s breasts, particularly one that gives suck. She sported her dairy; she pulled out her breast.
Daisy cutter. A jockey term for a horse that does not lift up his legs sufficiently, or goes too near the ground, and is therefore apt to stumble.
Daisy kickers. Ostlers at great inns.
Dam. A small Indian coin, mentioned in the Gentoo code of laws: hence etymologists may, if they please, derive the common expression, I do not care a dam, i.e. I do not care half a farthing for it.
Damber. A rascal. See Dimber.
Damme boy. A roaring, mad, blustering fellow, a scourer of the streets, or kicker up of a breeze.
Damned soul. A clerk in a counting house, whose sole business it is to clear or swear off merchandise at the custom-house; and who, it is said, guards against the crime of perjury, by taking a previous oath, never to swear truly on those occasions.
Damper. A luncheon, or snap before dinner: so called from its damping, or allaying, the appetite; eating and drinking, being, as the proverb wisely observes, apt to take away the appetite.
Dance upon nothing. To be hanged.
Dancers. Stairs.
Dandy. That’s the dandy; i.e. the ton, the clever thing; an expression of similar import to “That’s the barber.” See Barber.
Dandy grey russet. A dirty brown. His coat’s dandy grey russet, the colour of the Devil’s nutting bag.
Dandy prat. An insignificant or trifling fellow.
To Dangle. To follow a woman without asking the question. Also, to be hanged: I shall see you dangle in the sheriff’s picture frame; I shall see you hanging on the gallows.
Dangler. One who follows women in general, without any particular attachment
Dapper fellow. A smart, well-made, little man.
Darbies. Fetters. Cant.
Darby. Ready money. Cant.
Dark cully. A married man that keeps a mistress, whom he visits only at night, for fear of discovery.
Darkee. A dark lanthorn used by housebreakers. Stow the darkee, and bolt, the cove of the crib is fly; hide the dark lanthorn, and run away, the master of the house knows that we are here.
Darkmans. The night. Cant.
Darkman’s budge. One that slides into a house in the dark of the evening, and hides himself, in order to let some of the gang in at night to rob it.
Dart. A straight-armed blow in boxing.
Dash. A tavern drawer. To cut a dash: to make a figure.
David jones. The devil, the spirit of the sea: called Necken in the north countries, such as Norway, Denmark, and Sweden.
David jones’s locker. The sea.
David’s sow. As drunk as David’s sow; a common saying, which took its rise from the following circumstance: One David Lloyd, a Welchman, who kept an alehouse at Hereford, had a living sow with six legs, which was greatly resorted to by the curious; he had also a wife much addicted to drunkenness, for which he used sometimes to give her due correction. One day David’s wife having taken a cup too much, and being fearful of the consequences, turned out the sow, and lay down to sleep herself sober in the stye. A company coming in to see the sow, David ushered them into the stye, exclaiming, there is a sow for you! did any of you ever see such another? all the while supposing the sow had really been there; to which some of the company, seeing the state the woman was in, replied, it was the drunkenest sow they had ever beheld; whence the woman was ever after called David’s sow.
Davy. I’ll take my davy of it; vulgar abbreviation of affidavit.
To dawb. To bribe. The cull was scragged because he could not dawb; the rogue was hanged because he could not bribe. All bedawbed with lace; all over lace.
Day lights. Eyes. To darken his day lights, or sow up his sees; to close up a man’s eyes in boxing.
Dead cargo. A term used by thieves, when they are disappointed in the value of their booty.
Dead horse. To work for the dead horse; to work for wages already paid.
Dead-louse. Vulgar pronunciation of the Dedalus ship of war.
Dead men. A cant word among journeymen bakers, for loaves falsely charged to their masters’ customers; also empty bottles.
Deadly nevergreen, that bears fruit all the year round. The gallows, or three-legged mare. See Three-legged Mare.
Dear joys. Irishmen: from their frequently making use of that expression.
Death hunter. An undertaker, one who furnishes the necessary articles for funerals. See Carrion hunter.
Death’s head upon a mop-stick. A poor miserable, emaciated fellow; one quite an otomy. See Otomy. — He looked as pleasant as the pains of death.
Deep-one. A thorough-paced rogue, a sly designing fellow: in opposition to a shallow or foolish one.
Deft fellow. A neat little man.
Degen, or Dagen. A sword. Nim the degen; steal the sword. Dagen is Dutch for a sword. Cant.
Dells. Young buxom wenches, ripe and prone to venery, but who have not lost their virginity, which the Upright man claims by virtue of his prerogative; after which they become free for any of the fraternity. Also a common strumpet. Cant.
Demure. As demure as an old whore at a christening.
Demy-rep. An abbreviation of demy-reputation; a woman of doubtful character.
Derby. To come down with the derbies; to pay the money.
Derrick. The name of the finisher of the law, or hangman about the year 1608. —‘For he rides his circuit with the Devil, and Derrick must be his host, and Tiburne the inne at which he will lighte.’ Vide Bellman of London, in art. Priggin law. —‘At the gallows, where I leave them, as to the haven at which they must all cast anchor, if Derrick’s cables do but hold.’ Ibid.
Devil. A printer’s errand-boy. Also a small thread in the king’s ropes and cables, whereby they may be distinguished from all others. The Devil himself; a small streak of blue thread in the king’s sails. The Devil may dance in his pocket; i.e. he has no money: the cross on our ancient coins being jocularly supposed to prevent him from visiting that place, for fear, as it is said, of breaking his shins against it. To hold a candle to the Devil; to be civil to any one out of fear: in allusion to the story of the old woman, who set a wax taper before the image of St. Michael, and another before the Devil, whom that saint is commonly represented as trampling under his feet: being reproved for paying such honour to Satan, she answered, as it was uncertain which place she should go to, heaven or hell, she chose to secure a friend in both places. That will be when the Devil is blind, and he has not got sore eyes yet; said of any thing unlikely to happen. It rains whilst the sun shines, the Devil is beating his wife with a shoulder of mutton: this phenomenon is also said to denote that cuckolds are going to heaven; on being informed of this, a loving wife cried out with great vehemence, ‘Run, husband, run!’
The Devil was sick, the Devil a monk would be; The Devil was well, the Devil a monk was he.
a proverb signifying that we are apt to forget promises made in time of distress. To pull the Devil by the tail, to be reduced to one’s shifts. The Devil go with you and sixpence, and then you will have both money and company.
Devil. The gizzard of a turkey or fowl, scored, peppered, salted and broiled: it derives its appellation from being hot in the mouth.
Devil’s books. Cards.
Devil catcher, or Devil driver. A parson. See Snub devil.
Devil’s daughter. It is said of one who has a termagant for his wife, that he has married the Devil’s daughter, and lives with the old folks.
Devil’s daughter’s portion:
Deal, Dover, and Harwich, The Devil gave with his daughter in marriage; And, by a codicil to his will, He added Helvoet and the Brill;
a saying occasioned by the shameful impositions practised by the inhabitants of those places, on sailors and travellers.
Devil drawer. A miserable painter.
Devil’s dung. Assafoetida.
Devil’s guts. A surveyor’s chain: so called by farmers, who do not like their land should be measured by their landlords.
Devilish. Very: an epithet which in the English vulgar language is made to agree with every quality or thing; as, devilish bad, devilish good; devilish sick, devilish well; devilish sweet, devilish sour; devilish hot, devilish cold, &c. &c.
Deusea ville. The country. Cant.
Deusea ville stampers. Country carriers. Cant.
Dew beaters. Feet. Cant.
Dews wins, or Deux wins. Two-pence. Cant.
Dewitted. Torn to pieces by a mob, as that great statesman John de Wit was in Holland, anno 1672.
Dial plate. The face. To alter his dial plate; to disfigure his face.
Dice. The names of false dice: A bale of bard cinque deuces A bale of flat cinque deuces A bale of flat sice aces A bale of bard cater traes A bale of flat cater traes A bale of fulhams A bale of light graniers A bale of langrets contrary to the ventage A bale of gordes, with as many highmen as lowmen, for passage A bale of demies A bale of long dice for even and odd A bale of bristles A bale of direct contraries.
Dick. That happened in the reign of queen Dick, i. e. never: said of any absurd old story. I am as queer as Dick’s hatband; that is, out of spirits, or don’t know what ails me.
Dicky. A woman’s under-petticoat. It’s all Dicky with him; i.e. it’s all over with him.
Dicked in the nob. Silly. Crazed.
Dickey. A sham shirt.
Dickey. An ass. Roll your dickey; drive your ass. Also a seat for servants to sit behind a carriage, when their master drives.
To diddle. To cheat. To defraud. The cull diddled me out of my dearee; the fellow robbed me of my sweetheart. See Jeremy Diddler In Raising The Wind.
Diddeys. A woman’s breasts or bubbies.
Diddle. Gin.
Dilberries. Small pieces of excrement adhering to the hairs near the fundament.
Dilberry maker. The fundament.
Dildo. [From the Italian Diletto, q. d. a woman’s delight; or from our word Dally, q. d. a thing to play withal.] Penis-succedaneus, called in Lombardy Passo Tempo. Bailey.
Diligent. Double diligent, like the Devil’s apothecary; said of one affectedly diligent.
Dilly. (An abbreviation of the word Diligence.) A public voiture or stage, commonly a post chaise, carrying three persons; the name is taken from the public stage vehicles in France and Flanders. The dillies first began to run in England about the year 1779.
Dimber. Pretty. A dimber cove; a pretty fellow. Dimber mort; a pretty wench. Cant.
Dimber damber. A top man, or prince, among the canting crew: also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. Cant.
Ding. To knock down. To ding it in one’s ears; to reproach or tell one something one is not desirous of hearing. Also to throw away or hide: thus a highwayman who throws away or hides any thing with which he robbed, to prevent being known or detected, is, in the canting lingo, styled a Dinger.
Ding boy. A rogue, a hector, a bully, or sharper. Cant.
Ding dong. Helter skelter, in a hasty disorderly manner.
Dingey christian. A mulatto; or any one who has, as the West–Indian term is, a lick of the tar-brush, that is, some negro blood in him.
Dining room post. A mode of stealing in houses that let lodgings, by rogues pretending to be postmen, who send up sham letters to the lodgers, and, whilst waiting in the entry for the postage, go into the first room they see open, and rob it.
Dip. To dip for a wig. Formerly, in Middle Row, Holborn, wigs of different sorts were, it is said, put into a close-stool box, into which, for three-pence, any one might dip, or thrust in his hand, and take out the first wig he laid hold of; if he was dissatisfied with his prize, he might, on paying three halfpence, return it and dip again.
The dip. A cook’s shop, under Furnival’s Inn, where many attornies clerks, and other inferior limbs of the law, take out the wrinkles from their bellies. Dip is also a punning name for a tallow-chandler.
Dippers. Anabaptists.
Dirty puzzle. A nasty slut.
Disguised. Drunk.
Disgruntled. Offended, disobliged.
Dished up. He is completely dished up; he is totally ruined. To throw a thing in one’s dish; to reproach or twit one with any particular matter.
Dishclout. A dirty, greasy woman. He has made a napkin of his dishclout; a saying of one who has married his cook maid. To pin a dishclout to a man’s tail; a punishment often threatened by the female servants in a kitchen, to a man who pries too minutely into the secrets of that place.
Dismal ditty. The psalm sung by the felons at the gallows, just before they are turned off.
Dispatches. A mittimus, or justice of the peace’s warrant, for the commitment of a rogue.
Ditto. A suit of ditto; coat, waistcoat, and breeches, all of one colour.
Dispatchers. Loaded or false dice.
Distracted division. Husband and wife fighting.
Dive. To dive; to pick a pocket. To dive for a dinner; to go down into a cellar to dinner. A dive, is a thief who stands ready to receive goods thrown out to him by a little boy put in at a window. Cant.
Diver. A pickpocket; also one who lives in a cellar.
Divide. To divide the house with one’s wife; to give her the outside, and to keep all the inside to one’s self, i.e. to turn her into the street.
DO. To do any one; to rob and cheat him. I have done him; I have robbed him. Also to overcome in a boxing match: witness those laconic lines written on the field of battle, by Humphreys to his patron. —‘Sir, I have done the Jew.’
To do over. Carries the same meaning, but is not so briefly expressed: the former having received the polish of the present times.
Doash. A cloak. Cant.
Dobin rig. Stealing ribbands from haberdashers early in the morning or late at night; generally practised by women in the disguise of maid servants.
To dock. To lie with a woman. The cull docked the dell all the darkmans; the fellow laid with the wench all night. Docked smack smooth; one who has suffered an amputation of his penis from a venereal complaint. He must go into dock; a sea phrase, signifying that the person spoken of must undergo a salivation. Docking is also a punishment inflicted by sailors on the prostitutes who have infected them with the venereal disease; it consists in cutting off all their clothes, petticoats, shift and all, close to their stays, and then turning them into the street.
Doctor. Milk and water, with a little rum, and some nutmeg; also the name of a composition used by distillers, to make spirits appear stronger than they really are, or, in their phrase, better proof.
Doctors. Loaded dice, that will run but two or three chances. They put the doctors upon him; they cheated him with loaded dice.
Dodsey. A woman: perhaps a corruption of Doxey. Cant.
Dog buffers. Dog stealers, who kill those dogs not advertised for, sell their skins, and feed the remaining dogs with their flesh.
Dog in a doublet. A daring, resolute fellow. In Germany and Flanders the boldest dogs used to hunt the boar, having a kind of buff doublet buttoned on their bodies, Rubens has represented several so equipped, so has Sneyders.
Dog. An old dog at it; expert or accustomed to any thing. Dog in a manger; one who would prevent another from enjoying what he himself does not want: an allusion to the well-known fable. The dogs have not dined; a common saying to any one whose shirt hangs out behind. To dog, or dodge; to follow at a distance. To blush like a blue dog, i.e. not at all. To walk the black dog on any one; a punishment inflicted in the night on a fresh prisoner, by his comrades, in case of his refusal to pay the usual footing or garnish.
Dog latin. Barbarous Latin, such as was formerly used by the lawyers in their pleadings.
Dog’s portion. A lick and a smell. He comes in for only a dog’s portion; a saying of one who is a distant admirer or dangler after women. See Dangler.
Dog’s rig. To copulate till you are tired, and then turn tail to it.
Dog’s soup. Rain water.
Dog vane. A cockade. Sea term.
Dogged. Surly.
Doggess, dog’s wife or Lady, puppy’s mamma. Jocular ways of calling a woman a bitch.
Doll. Bartholomew doll; a tawdry, over-drest woman, like one of the children’s dolls at Bartholomew fair. To mill doll; to beat hemp at Bridewell, or any other house of correction.
Dolly. A Yorkshire dolly; a contrivance for washing, by means of a kind of wheel fixed in a tub, which being turned about, agitates and cleanses the linen put into it, with soap and water.
Domine do little. An impotent old fellow.
Domineer. To reprove or command in an insolent or haughty manner. Don’t think as how you shall domineer here.
Dommerer. A beggar pretending that his tongue has been cutout by the Algerines, or cruel and blood-thirsty Turks, or else that he yas born deaf and dumb. Cant.
Done, or Done over. Robbed: also, convicted or hanged. Cant. — See DO.
Done up. Ruined by gaming and extravagances. Modern Term.
Donkey, donkey dick. A he, or jack ass: called donkey, perhaps, from the Spanish or don-like gravity of that animal, intitled also the king of Spain’s trumpeter.
Doodle. A silly fellow, or noodle: see Noodle. Also a child’s penis. Doodle doo, or Cock a doodle doo; a childish appellation for a cock, in imitation of its note when crowing.
Doodle sack. A bagpipe. Dutch. — Also the private parts of a woman.
Dopey. A beggar’s trull.
Dot and go one. To waddle: generally applied to persons who have one leg shorter than the other, and who, as the sea phrase is, go upon an uneven keel. Also a jeering appellation for an inferior writing-master, or teacher of arithmetic.
Double. To tip any one the double; to run away in his or her debt.
Double jugg. A man’s backside. Cotton’s Virgil.
Dove-tail. A species of regular answer, which fits into the subject, like the contrivance whence it takes its name: Ex. Who owns this? The dovetail is, Not you by your asking.
Douglas. Roby Douglas, with one eye and a stinking breath; the breech. Sea wit.
Dowdy. A coarse, vulgar-looking woman.
Down hills. Dice that run low.
Down. Aware of a thing. Knowing it. There is No down. A cant phrase used by house-breakers to signify that the persons belonging to any house are not on their guard, or that they are fast asleep, and have not heard any noise to alarm them.
To dowse. To take down: as, Dowse the pendant. Dowse your dog vane; take the cockade out of your hat. Dowse the glim; put out the candle.
Dowse on the chops. A blow in the face.
Dowser. Vulgar pronunciation of Douceur.
Doxies. She beggars, wenches, whores.
Drab. A nasty, sluttish whore.
Drag. To go on the drag; to follow a cart or waggon, in order to rob it. Cant.
Drag lay. Waiting in the streets to rob carts or waggons.
Draggletail or Daggletail. One whose garments are bespattered with dag or dew: generally applied to the female sex, to signify a slattern.
Dragooning it. A man who occupies two branches of one profession, is said to dragoon it; because, like the soldier of that denomination, he serves in a double capacity. Such is a physician who furnishes the medicines, and compounds his own prescriptions.
Drain. Gin: so called from the diuretic qualities imputed to that liquor.
Dram. A glass or small measure of any spirituous liquors, which, being originally sold by apothecaries, were estimated by drams, ounces, &c. Dog’s dram; to spit in his mouth, and clap his back.
Dram-a-tick. A dram served upon credit.
Draper. An ale draper; an alehouse keeper.
Draught, or Bill, on the pump at aldgate. A bad or false bill of exchange. See Aldgate.
Draw latches. Robbers of houses whose doors are only fastened with latches. Cant.
To draw. To take any thing from a pocket. To draw a swell of a clout. To pick a gentleman’s pocket of a handkerchief. To draw the long bow; to tell lies.
Drawers. Stockings. Cant.
Drawing the king’s picture. Coining. Cant.
To dress. To beat. I’ll dress his hide neatly; I’ll beat him soundly.
Dribble. A method of pouring out, as it were, the dice from the box, gently, by which an old practitioner is enabled to cog one of them with his fore-finger.
Dripper. A gleet.
Dromedary. A heavy, bungling thief or rogue. A purple dromedary; a bungler in the art and mystery of thieving. Cant.
Drommerars. See Dommerer.
Drop. The new drop; a contrivance for executing felons at Newgate, by means of a platform, which drops from under them: this is also called the last drop. See Leaf. See Morning drop.
Drop a cog. To let fall, with design, a piece of gold or silver, in order to draw in and cheat the person who sees it picked up; the piece so dropped is called a dropt cog.
Drop in the eye. Almost drunk.
Dropping member. A man’s yard with a gonorrhoea.
Drop coves. Persons who practice the fraud of dropping a ring or other article, and picking it up before the person intended to be defrauded, they pretend that the thing is very valuable to induce their gull to lend them money, or to purchase the article. See Fawny rig, and Money droppers.
To drop down. To be dispirited. This expression is used by thieves to signify that their companion did not die game, as the kiddy dropped down when he went to be twisted; the young fellow was very low spirited when he walked out to be hanged.
To drub. To beat any one with a stick, or rope’s end: perhaps a contraction of Dry rub. It is also used to signify a good beating with any instrument.
Drummer. A jockey term for a horse that throws about his fore legs irregularly: the idea is taken from a kettle drummer, who in beating makes many flourishes with his drumsticks.
Drunk. Drunk as a wheel-barrow. Drunk as David’s sow. See David’s sow.
Drury lane ague. The venereal disorder.
Drury lane vestal. A woman of the town, or prostitute; Drury-lane and its environs were formerly the residence of many of those ladies.
Dry bob. A smart repartee: also copulation without emission; in law Latin, siccus robertulus.
Dry boots. A sly humorous fellow.
Dub. A picklock, or master-key. Cant.
Dub lay. Robbing houses by picking the locks.
Dub the jigger. Open the door. Cant.
Dub o’ th’ hick. A lick on the head.
Dubber. A picker of locks. Cant.
Duce. Two-pence.
Duck. A lame duck; an Exchange-alley phrase for a stock-jobber, who either cannot or will not pay his losses, or, differences, in which case he is said to Waddle out of the alley, as he cannot appear there again till his debts are settled and paid; should he attempt it, he would be hustled out by the fraternity.
Ducks and drakes. To make ducks and drakes: a school-boy’s amusement, practised with pieces of tile, oyster-shells, or flattish stones, which being skimmed along the surface of a pond, or still river, rebound many times. To make ducks and drakes of one’s money; to throw it idly away.
Duck f-ck-R. The man who has the care of the poultry on board a ship of war.
Duck legs. Short legs.
Dudders, or Whispering dudders. Cheats who travel the country, pretending to sell smuggled goods: they accost their intended dupes in a whisper. The goods they have for sale are old shop-keepers, or damaged; purchased by them of large manufactories. See Duffer.
Duddering rake. A thundering rake, a buck of the first head, one extremely lewd.
Dudgeon. Anger.
Duds. Clothes.
Duffers. Cheats who ply in different parts of the town, particularly about Water-lane, opposite St. Clement’s church, in the Strand, and pretend to deal in smuggled goods, stopping all country people, or such as they think they can impose on; which they frequently do, by selling them Spital-fields goods at double their current price.
Dugs. A woman’s breasts,
Duke, or Rum duke. A queer unaccountable fellow.
Duke of limbs. A tall, awkward, ill-made fellow.
Duke humphrey. To dine with Duke Humphrey; to fast. In old St. Paul’s church was an aisle called Duke Humphrey’s walk (from a tomb vulgarly called his, but in reality belonging to John of Gaunt), and persons who walked there, while others were at dinner, were said to dine with Duke Humphrey.
Dull swift. A stupid, sluggish fellow, one long going on an errand.
Dumb arm. A lame arm.
Dumb-founded. Silenced, also soundly beaten.
Dumb glutton. A woman’s privities.
Dumb watch. A venereal bubo in the groin.
Dummee. A pocket book. A dummee hunter. A pick-pocket, who lurks about to steal pocket books out of gentlemen’s pockets. Frisk the dummee of the screens; take all the bank notes out of the pocket book, ding the dummee, and bolt, they sing out beef. Throw away the pocket book, and run off, as they call out “stop thief.”
Dumplin. A short thick man or woman. Norfolk dumplin; a jeering appellation of a Norfolk man, dumplins being a favourite kind of food in that county.
Dumps. Down in the dumps; low-spirited, melancholy: jocularly said to be derived from Dumpos, a king of Egypt, who died of melancholy. Dumps are also small pieces of lead, cast by schoolboys in the shape of money.
Dun. An importunate creditor. Dunny, in the provincial dialect of several counties, signifies Deaf; to dun, then, perhaps may mean to deafen with importunate demands: some derive it from the word Donnez, which signifies Give. But the true original meaning of the word, owes its birth to one Joe Dun, a famous bailiff of the town of Lincoln, so extremely active, and so dexterous in his business, that it became a proverb, when a man refused to pay, Why do not you Dun him? that is, Why do not you set Dun to attest him? Hence it became a cant word, and is now as old as since the days of Henry Vii. Dun was also the general name for the hangman, before that of Jack Ketch.
And presently a halter got,
Made of the best strong hempen teer,
And ere a cat could lick her ear,
Had tied it up with as much art,
As Dun himself could do for’s heart.
Cotton’s Virgil Trav. book iv.
Dunaker. A stealer of cows and calves.
Dunegan. A privy. A water closet.
Dunghill. A coward: a cockpit phrase, all but gamecocks being styled dunghills. To die dunghill; to repent, or shew any signs of contrition at the gallows. Moving dunghill; a dirty, filthy man or woman. Dung, an abbreviation of dunghill, also means a journeyman taylor who submits to the law for regulating journeymen taylors’ wages, therefore deemed by the flints a coward. See Flints.
Dunnock. A cow. Cunt.
To dup. To open a door: a contraction of Do ope or Open. See Dub.
Durham man. Knocker kneed, he grinds mustard with his knees: Durham is famous for its mustard.
Dust. Money. Down with your dust; deposit the money. To raise or kick up a dust; to make a disturbance or riot: see Breeze. Dust it away; drink about.
Dustman. A dead man: your father is a dustman.
Dutch comfort. Thank God it is no worse.
Dutch concert. Where every one plays or signs a different tune.
Dutch feast. Where the entertainer gets drunk before his guest.
Dutch reckoning, or Alle-mal. A verbal or lump account, without particulars, as brought at spungiug or bawdy houses.
Dutchess. A woman enjoyed with her pattens on, or by a man-in boots, is said to be made a dutchess.
Die hard, or Game. To die hard, is to shew no signs of fear or contrition at the gallows; not to whiddle or squeak. This advice is frequently given to felons going to suffer the law, by their old comrades, anxious for the honour of the gang.
Earnest. A deposit in part of payment, to bind a bargain.
Earth bath. A Grave.
Easy. Make the cull easy or quiet; gag or kill him. As easy as pissing the bed.
Easy virtue. A lady of easy virtue: an impure or prostitute.
Eat. To eat like a beggar man, and wag his under jaw; a jocular reproach to a proud man. To eat one’s words; to retract what one has said.
To edge. To excite, stimulate, or provoke; or as it is vulgarly called, to egg a man on. Fall back, fall edge; i.e. let what will happen. Some derive to egg on, from the Latin word, Age, age.
Eight eyes. I will knock out two of your eight eyes; a common Billingsgate threat from one fish nymph to another: every woman, according to the naturalists of that society, having eight eyes; viz. two seeing eyes, two bub-eyes, a bell-eye, two pope’s eyes, and a ***-eye. He has fallen down and trod upon his eye; said of one who has a black eye.
Elbow grease. Labour. Elbow grease will make an oak table shine.
Elbow room. Sufficient space to act in. Out at elbows; said of an estate that is mortgaged.
Elbow shaker. A gamester, one who rattles Saint Hugh’s bones, i.e. the dice.
Ellenborough lodge. The King’s Bench Prison. Lord Ellenborough’s teeth; the chevaux de frize round the top of the wall of that prison.
Elf. A fairy or hobgoblin, a little man or woman.
Emperor. Drunk as an emperor, i.e. ten times as drunk as a lord.
English burgundy. Porter.
Ensign bearer. A drunken man, who looks red in the face, or hoists his colours in his drink.
Equipt. Rich; also, having new clothes. Well equipt; full of money, or well dressed. The cull equipped me with a brace of meggs; the gentleman furnished me with. a couple of guineas.
Essex lion. A calf; Essex being famous for calves, and chiefly supplying the London markets.
Essex stile. A ditch; a great part of Essex is low marshy ground, in which there are more ditches than Stiles.
Eternity Box. A coffin.
Eves. Hen roosts.
Eve’s custom-house, where Adam made his first entry. The monosyllable.
Eves dropper. One that lurks about to rob hen-roosts; also a listener at doors and windows, to hear private conversation.
Evil. A halter. Cant, Also a wife.
Ewe. A white ewe; a beautiful woman. An old ewe, drest lamb fashion; an old woman, drest like a young girl.
Execution day. Washing day.
Expended. Killed: alluding to the gunner’s accounts, wherein the articles consumed are charged under the title of expended. Sea phrase.
Eye. It’s all my eye and Betty Martin. It’s all nonsense, all mere stuff.
Eye-sore. A disagreeable object. It will be an eye-sore as long as she lives, said by a limn whose wife was cut for a fistula in ano.
Face-making. Begetting children. To face it out; to persist in a falsity. No face but his own: a saying of one who has no money in his pocket or no court cards in his hand.
Facer. A bumper, a glass filled so full as to leave no room for the lip. Also a violent blow on the face.
Fadge. It won’t fadge; it won’t do. A farthing.
To fag. To beat. Fag the bloss; beat the wench; Cant. A fag also means a boy of an inferior form or class, who acts as a servant to one of a superior, who is said to fag him, he is my fag; whence, perhaps, fagged out, for jaded or tired. To stand a good fag; not to be soon tired.
Fagger. A little boy put in at a window to rob the house.
Faggot. A man hired at a muster to appear as a soldier. To faggot in the canting sense, means to bind: an allusion to the faggots made up by the woodmen, which are all bound. Faggot the culls; bind the men.
Faithful. One of the faithful; a taylor who gives long credit. His faith has made him unwhole; i.e. trusting too much, broke him.
Fair. A set of subterraneous rooms in the Fleet Prison.
Fakement. A counterfeit signature. A forgery. Tell the macers to mind their fakements; desire the swindlers to be careful not to forge another person’s signature.
Fallalls. Ornaments, chiefly women’s, such as ribands, necklaces, &c.
Fallen away from a horse load to a cart load. A saying on one grown fat.
Family man. A thief or receiver of stolen goods.
Fam lay. Going into a goldsmith’s shop, under pretence of buying a wedding ring, and palming one or two, by daubing the hand with some viscous matter.
Fams, or Fambles. Hands. Famble cheats; rings or gloves. Cant.
To famgrasp. To shake bands: figuratively, to agree or make up a difference. Famgrasp the cove; shake hands with the fellow. Cant.
Family of love. Lewd women; also, a religious sect.
Fancy man. A man kept by a lady for secret services.
To fan. To beat any one. I fanned him sweetly; I beat him heartily.
Fantastically dressed, with more rags than ribands.
Fart. He has let a brewer’s fart, grains and all; said of one who has bewrayed his breeches.
Piss and fart.
Mingere cum bumbis,
Res saluberrima est lumbis.
I dare not trust my a-se with a fart: said by a person troubled with a looseness.
Fart catcher. A valet or footman from his walking behind his master or mistress.
Farting crackers. Breeches.
Fartleberries. Excrement hanging about the anus.
Fastner. A warrant.
Fastnesses. Bogs.
Fat. The last landed, inned, or stowed, of any sort of merchandise: so called by the water-side porters, carmen, &c. All the fat is in the fire; that is, it is all over with us: a saying used in case of any miscarriage or disappointment in an undertaking; an allusion to overturning the frying pan into the fire. Fat, among printers, means void spaces.
As fat as a hen in the forehead. A saying of a meagre person.
Fat cull. A rich fellow.
Fat headed. Stupid.
Faulkner. A tumbler, juggler, or shewer of tricks; perhaps because they lure the people, as a faulconer does his hawks. Cant.
Faytors, or Fators. Fortune tellers.
Fawney rig. A common fraud, thus practised: A fellow drops a brass ring, double gilt, which he picks up before the party meant to be cheated, and to whom he disposes of it for less than its supposed, and ten times more than its real, value. See Money dropper.
Fawney. A ring.
Feague. To feague a horse; to put ginger up a horse’s fundament, and formerly, as it is said, a live eel, to make him lively and carry his tail well; it is said, a forfeit is incurred by any horse-dealer’s servant, who shall shew a horse without first feaguing him. Feague is used, figuratively, for encouraging or spiriting one up.
Feak. The fundament.
To Feather one’s nest. To enrich one’s self.
Feather-bed lane. A rough or stony lane.
Fee, faw, fum. Nonsensical words, supposed in childish story-books to be spoken by giants. I am not to be frighted by fee, faw, fum; I am not to be scared by nonsense.
Feeder. A spoon. To nab the feeder; to steal a spoon.
Feet. To make feet for children’s stockings; to beget children. An officer of feet; a jocular title for an officer of infantry.
Feint. A sham attack on one part, when a real one is meant at another.
Fellow commoner. An empty bottle: so called at the university of Cambridge, where fellow commoners are not in general considered as over full of learning. At Oxford an empty bottle is called a gentleman commoner for the same reason. They pay at Cambridge 250 l. a year for the privilege of wearing a gold or silver tassel to their caps. The younger branches of the nobility have the privilege of wearing a hat, and from thence are denominated Hat fellow Commoners.
Fen. A bawd, or common prostitute. Cant.
To fence. To pawn or sell to a receiver of stolen goods. The kiddey fenced his thimble for three quids; the young fellow pawned his watch for three guineas. To fence invariably means to pawn or sell goods to a receiver.
Fencing ken. The magazine, or warehouse, where stolen goods are secreted.
Ferme. A hole. Cant.
Fermerdy beggars. All those who have not the sham sores or clymes.
Ferrara. Andrea Ferrara; the name of a famous sword-cutler: most of the Highland broad-swords are marked with his name; whence an Andrea Ferrara has become the common name for the glaymore or Highland broad-sword. See Claymore.
Ferret. A tradesman who sells goods to youug unthrift heirs, at excessive rates, and then continually duns them for the debt. To ferret; to search out or expel any one from his hiding-place, as a ferret drives out rabbits; also to cheat. Ferret-eyed; red-eyed: ferrets have red eyes.
Fetch. A trick, wheedle, or invention to deceive.
Feuterer. A dog-keeper: from the French vautrier, or vaultrier, one that leads a lime hound for the chase.
To fib. To beat. Fib the cove’s quarron in the rumpad for the lour in his bung; beat the fellow in the highway for the money in his purse. Cant. — A fib is also a tiny lie.
Fice, or Foyse. A small windy escape backwards, more obvious to the nose than ears; frequently by old ladies charged on their lap-dogs. See Fizzle.
Fid of tobacco. A quid, from the small pieces of tow with which the vent or touch hole of a cannon is stopped. Sea Term.
Fiddle faddle. Trifling discourse, nonsense. A mere fiddle faddle fellow; a trifier.
Fiddlestick’s end. Nothing; the end of the ancient fiddlesticks ending in a point; hence metaphorically used to express a thing terminating in nothing.
Fidgets. He has got the fidgets; said of one that cannot sit long in a place.
Fidlam ben. General thieves; called also St. Peter’s sons, having every finger a fish-hook. Cant.
Fiddlers money. All sixpences: sixpence being the usual sum paid by each couple, for music at country wakes and hops. Fiddler’s fare; meat, drink, and money. Fiddler’s pay; thanks and wine.
Field lane duck. A baked sheep’s head.
Fieri facias. A red-faced man is said to have been served with a writ of fieri facias.
Figdean. To kill.
Figger. A little boy put in at a window to hand out goods to the diver. See Diver.
Figging law. The art of picking pockets. Cant.
Figure dancer. One who alters figures on bank notes, converting tens to hundreds.
Filch, or Filel. A beggar’s staff, with an iron hook at the end, to pluck clothes from an hedge, or any thing out of a casement. Filcher; the same as angler. Filching cove; a man thief. Filching mort; a woman thief.
File, file cloy, or Bungnipper. A pick pocket. To file; to rob or cheat. The file, or bungnipper, goes generally in company with two assistants, the adam tiler, and another called the bulk or bulker, Whose business it is to jostle the person they intend to rob, and push him against the wall, while the file picks his pocket, and gives’the booty to the adam tiler, who scours off with it. Cant.
Fin. An arm. A one finned fellow; a man who has lost an arm. Sea phrase.
Fine. Fine as five pence. Fine as a cow-t — d stuck with primroses.
Fine. A man imprisoned for any offence. A fine of eighty-four months; a transportation for seven years.
Finger in eye. To put finger in eye; to weep: commonly applied to women. The more you cry the less you’ll p-ss; a consolatory speech used by sailors to their doxies. It is as great a pity to see a woman cry, as to see a goose walk barefoot; another of the same kind.
Finger post. A parson: so called, because he points out a way to others which he never goes himself. Like the finger post, he points out a way he has never been, and probably will never go, i.e. the way to heaven.
Finish. The finish; a small coffee-house in Coven Garden, market, opposite Russel-street, open very early in the morning, and therefore resorted to by debauchees shut out of every other house: it is also called Carpenter’s coffee-house.
Firing a gun. Introducing a story by head and shoulders. A man wanting to tell a particular story, said to the company, Hark! did you not hear a gun? — but now we are talking of a gun, I will tell you the story of one.
To fire a slug. To drink a dram.
Fire priggers. Villains who rob at fires under pretence of assisting in removing the goods.
Fire ship. A wench who has the venereal disease.
Fire shovel. He or she when young, was fed with a fire shovel; a saying of persons with wide mouths.
Fish. A seaman. A scaly fish; a rough, blunt tar. To have other fish to fry; to have other matters to mind, something else to do.
Fit. Suitable. It won’t fit; It will not suit or do.
Five shillings. The sign of five shillings, i.e. the crown. Fifteen shillings; the sign of the three crowns.
Fizzle. An escape backward,
Flabagasted. Confounded.
Flabby. Relaxed, flaccid, not firm or solid.
Flag. A groat. Cant. — The flag of defiance, or bloody flag is out; signifying the man is drunk, and alluding to the redness of his face. Sea phrase.
Flam. A lie, or sham story: also a single stroke on a drum. To flam; to hum, to amuse, to deceive. Flim flams; idle stories.
Flap dragon. A clap, or pox.
To Flare. To blaze, shine or glare.
Flash. Knowing. Understanding another’s meaning. The swell was flash, so I could not draw his fogle. The gentleman saw what I was about, and therefore I could not pick his pocket of his silk handkerchief. To patter flash, to speak the slang language. See Patter.
Flash panneys. Houses to which thieves and prostitutes resort.
Next for his favourite Mot (Girl) the Kiddey (Youth) looks
about,
Flash song.
Flash. A periwig. Rum flash; a fine long wig. Queer flash; a miserable weather-beaten caxon.
To Flash. To shew ostentatiously. To flash one’s ivory; to laugh and shew one’s teeth. Don’t flash your ivory, but shut your potatoe trap, and keep your guts warm; the Devil loves hot tripes.
To Flash the hash. To vomit. Cant.
Flash ken. A house that harbours thieves.
Flash lingo. The canting or slang language.
Flash man. A bully to a bawdy house. A whore’s bully.
Flat. A bubble, gull, or silly fellow.
Flat cock. A female.
Flaybottomist. A bum-brusher, or schoolmaster.
To Flay, or Flea, the fox. To vomit.
Flea bite. A trifling injury. To send any one away with a flea in his ear; to give any one a hearty scolding.
To Fleece. To rob, cheat, or plunder.
Flemish account. A losing, or bad account.
Flesh broker. A match-maker, a bawd.
Flicker. A drinking glass. Cant.
Flickering. Grinning or laughing in a man’s face.
Flicking. Cutting. Flick me some panam and caffan; cut me some bread and cheese. Flick the peter; cut off the cloak-bag, or portmanteau.
To Fling. To trick or cheat. He flung me fairly out of it: he cheated me out of it.
Flints. Journeymen taylors, who on a late occasion refused to work for the wages settled by law. Those who submitted, were by the mutineers styled dungs, i.e. dunghills.
Flip. Small beer, brandy, and sugar: this mixture, with the addition of a lemon, was by sailors, formerly called Sir Cloudsly, in memory of Sir Cloudsly Shovel, who used frequently to regale himself with it.
Floating academy. See Campbell’s academy.
Floating hell. The hulks.
Flogging cully. A debilitated lecher, commonly an old one.
Flogging cove. The beadle, or whipper, in Bridewell.
Flogging stake. The whipping-post.
To floor. To knock down. Floor the pig; knock down the officer.
Flourish. To take a flourish; to enjoy a woman in a hasty manner, to take a flyer. See Flyer.
To flout. To jeer, to ridicule.
Flummery. Oatmeal and water boiled to a jelly; also compliments, neither of which are over-nourishing.
Flush in the pocket. Full of money. The cull is flush in the fob. The fellow is full of money.
Flustered. Drunk.
Flute. The recorder of a corporation; a recorder was an antient musical instrument.
To flux. To cheat, cozen, or over-reach; also to salivate. To flux a wig; to put it up in curl, and bake it.
Fly. Knowing. Acquainted with another’s meaning or proceeding. The rattling cove is fly; the coachman knows what we are about.
Fly. A waggon. Cant.
Fly-by-night. You old fly-by-night; an ancient term of reproach to an old woman, signifying that she was a witch, and alluding to the nocturnal excursions attributed to witches, who were supposed to fly abroad to their meetings, mounted on brooms.
Fly slicers. Life-guard men, from their sitting on horseback, under an arch, where they are frequently observed to drive away flies with their swords.
Flyer. To take a flyer; to enjoy a woman with her clothes on, or without going to bed.
Flyers. Shoes.
Fly-flapped. Whipt in the stocks, or at the cart’s tail.
Flying camps. Beggars plying in a body at funerals.
Flying giggers. Turnpike gates.
Flying house. A lock in wrestling, by which he who uses it throws his adversary over his head.
Flying pasty. Sirreverence wrapped in paper and thrown over a neighbour’s wall.
Flying porters. Cheats who obtain money by pretending to persons who have been lately robbed, that they may come from a place or party where, and from whom, they may receive information respecting the goods stolen from them, and demand payment as porters.
Flying stationers. Ballad-singers and hawkers of penny histories.
Flymsey. A bank note.
Fob. A cheat, trick, or contrivance, I will not be fobbed off so; I will not be thus deceived with false pretences. The fob is also a small breeches pocket for holding a watch.
Fog. Smoke. Cant.
Fogey. Old Fogey. A nickname for an invalid soldier: derived from the French word fougeux, fierce or fiery.
Fogle. A silk handkerchief,
Fogram. An old fogram; a fusty old fellow.
Fogus. Tobacco. Tip me a gage of fogus; give me a pipe of tobacco. Cant.
Fool. A fool at the end of a stick; a fool at one end, and a maggot at the other; gibes on an angler.
Fool finder. A bailiff.
Foolish. An expression among impures, signifying the cully who pays, in opposition to a flash man. Is he foolish or flash?
Foot pads, or Low pads. Rogues who rob on foot.
Foot wabbler. A contemptuous appellation for a foot soldier, commonly used by the cavalry.
Footman’s mawnd. An artificial sore made with unslaked lime, soap, and the rust of old iron, on the back of a beggar’s hand, as if hurt by the bite or kick of a horse.
Footy despicable. A footy fellow, a despicable fellow; from the French foutue.
Forefoot, or Paw. Give us your fore foot; give us your hand.
Foreman of the jury. One who engrosses all the talk to himself, or speaks for the rest of the company.
Fork. A pickpocket. Let us fork him; let us pick his pocket. —‘The newest and most dexterous way, which is, to thrust the fingers strait, stiff, open, and very quick, into the pocket, and so closing them, hook what can be held between them.’ N.B. This was taken from a book written many years ago: doubtless the art of picking pockets, like all others, must have been much improved since that time.
Forlorn hope. A gamester’s last stake.
Fortune hunters. Indigent men, seeking to enrich themselves by marrying a woman of fortune.
Fortune teller, or Cunning man. A judge, who tells every prisoner his fortune, lot or doom. To go before the fortune teller, lambskin men, or conjuror; to be tried at an assize. See Lambskin men.
Foul. To foul a plate with a man, to take a dinner with him.
Foul-mouthed. Abusive.
Foundling. A child dropped in the streets, and found, and educated at the parish expence.
Fousil. The name of a public house, where the Eccentrics assemble in May’s Buildings, St. Martin’s Lane.
Fox. A sharp, cunning fellow. Also an old term for a sword, probably a rusty one, or else from its being dyed red with blood; some say this name alluded to certain swords of remarkable good temper, or metal, marked with the figure of a fox, probably the sign, or rebus, of the maker.
Fox’s paw. The vulgar pronunciation of the French words faux pas. He made a confounded fox’s paw.
Foxed. Intoxicated.
Foxing a boot. Mending the foot by capping it.
Foyst. A pickpocket, cheat, or rogue. See Wotton’s gang.
To foyst. To pick a pocket.
Foysted in. Words or passages surreptitiously interpolated or inserted into a book or writing.
Fraters. Vagabonds who beg with sham patents, or briefs, for hospitals, fires, inundations, &c.
Free. Free of fumblers hall; a saying of one who cannot get his wife with child.
Free and easy johns. A society which meet at the Hole in the Wall, Fleet-street, to tipple porter, and sing bawdry.
Free booters. Lawless robbers and plunderers: originally soldiers who served without pay, for the privilege of plundering the enemy.
Freeholder. He whose wife accompanies him to the alehouse.
Freeman’s quay. Free of expence. To lush at Freeman’s Quay; to drink at another’s cost.
Freeze. A thin, small, hard cider, much used by vintners and coopers in parting their wines, to lower the price of them, and to advance their gain. A freezing vintner; a vintner who balderdashes his wine.
French cream. Brandy; so called by the old tabbies and dowagers when drank in their tea.
French disease. The venereal disease, said to have been imported from France. French gout; the same. He suffered by a blow over the snout with a French faggot-stick; i.e. he lost his nose by the pox.
French leave. To take French leave; to go off without taking leave of the company: a saying frequently applied to persons who have run away from their creditors.
Frenchified. Infected with the venereal disease. The mort is Frenchified: the wench is infected.
Fresh milk. Cambridge new comers to the university.
Freshman. One just entered a member of the university.
Fribble. An effeminate fop; a name borrowed from a celebrated character of that kind, in the farce of Miss in her Teens, written by Mr. Garrick.
Friday-face. A dismal countenance. Before, and even long after the Reformation, Friday was a day of abstinence, or jour maigre. Immediately after the restoration of king Charles II. a proclamation was issued, prohibiting all publicans from dressing any suppers on a Friday.
To frig. Figuratively used for trifling.
Frig pig. A trifling, fiddle-faddle fellow.
Frigate. A well-rigged frigate; a well-dressed wench.
Frisk. To dance the Paddington frisk; to be hanged.
To frisk. Used by thieves to signify searching a person whom they have robbed. Blast his eyes! frisk him.
Froe, or Vroe, A woman, wife, or mistress. Brush to your froe, or bloss, and wheedle for crop; run to your mistress, and sooth and coax her out of some money. Dutch.
Froglander. A Dutchman.
Frosty face. One pitted with the small pox.
Frog’s wine. Gin.
Fruitful vine. A woman’s private parts, i.e. that has Flowers every month, and bears fruit in nine months.
Frummagemmed. Choaked, strangled, suffocated, or hanged. Cant.
Fubsey. Plump. A fubsey wench; a plump, healthy wench.
Fuddle. Drunk. This is rum fuddle; this is excellent tipple, or drink. Fuddle; drunk. Fuddle cap; a drunkard.
Fudge. Nonsense.
Fulhams. Loaded dice are called high and lowmen, or high and low fulhams, by Ben Jonson and other writers of his time; either because they were made at Fulham, or from that place being the resort of sharpers.
Full of emptiness. Jocular term for empty.
Full march. The Scotch greys are in full march by the crown office; the lice are crawling down his head.
Fumbler. An old or impotent man. To fumble, also means to go awkwardly about any work, or manual operation.
Fun. A cheat, or trick. Do you think to fun me out of it? Do you think to cheat me? — Also the breech, perhaps from being the abbreviation of fundament. I’ll kick your fun. Cant.
To funk. To use an unfair motion of the hand in plumping at taw. Schoolboy’s term.
Funk. To smoke; figuratively, to smoke or stink through fear. I was in a cursed funk. To funk the cobler; a schoolboy’s trick, performed with assafoettida and cotton, which are stuffed into a pipe: the cotton being lighted, and the bowl of the pipe covered with a coarse handkerchief, the smoke is blown out at the small end, through the crannies of a cobler’s stall.
Furmen. Aldermen.
Furmity, or Fromenty. Wheat boiled up to a jelly. To simper like a furmity kettle: to smile, or look merry about the gills.
Fuss. A confusion, a hurry, an unnecessary to do about trifles.
Fussock. A lazy fat woman. An old fussock; a frowsy old woman.
Fustian. Bombast language. Red fustian; port wine.
Fusty luggs. A beastly, sluttish woman.
To fuzz. To shuffle cards minutely: also, to change the pack.
Gab, or Gob. The mouth. Gift of the gab; a facility of speech, nimble tongued eloquence. To blow the gab; to confess, or peach.
Gab, or Gob, string. A bridle.
Gabby. A foolish fellow.
Gad-so. An exclamation said to be derived from the Italian word cazzo.
Gaff. A fair. The drop coves maced the joskins at the gaff; the ring-droppers cheated the countryman at the fair.
To gaff. To game by tossing up halfpence.
Gag. An instrument used chiefly by housebreakers and thieves, for propping open the mouth of a person robbed, thereby to prevent his calling out for assistance.
Gage. A quart pot, or a pint; also a pipe. Cant.
Gage, or Fogus. A pipe of tobacco.
Gaggers. High and Low. Cheats, who by sham pretences, and wonderful stories of their sufferings, impose on the credulity of well meaning people. See Rum gagger.
Galimaufrey. A hodgepodge made up of the remnants and scraps of the larder.
Gall. His gall is not yet broken; a saying used in prisons of a man just brought in, who appears dejected.
Galley. Building the galley; a game formerly used at sea, in order to put a trick upon a landsman, or fresh-water sailor. It being agreed to play at that game, one sailor personates the builder, and another the merchant or contractor: the builder first begins by laying the keel, which consists of a number of men laid all along on their backs, one after another, that is, head to foot; he next puts in the ribs or knees, by making a number of men sit feet to feet, at right angles to, and on each side of, the keel: he now fixing on the person intended to be the object of the joke, observes he is a fierce-looking fellow, and fit for the lion; he accordingly places him at the head, his arms being held or locked in by the two persons next to him, representing the ribs. After several other dispositions, the builder delivers over the galley to the contractor as complete: but he, among other faults and objections, observes the lion is not gilt, on which the builder or one of his assistants, runs to the head, and dipping a mop in the excrement, thrusts it into the face of the lion.
Galley foist. A city barge, used formerly on the lord mayor’s day, when he was sworn in at Westminster.
Gallied. Hurried, vexed, over-fatigued, perhaps like a galley slave.
Galligaskins. Breeches.
Gallipot. A nick namefor an apothecary,
Gallore, or Golore. Plenty.
Galloper. A blood horse. A hunter. The toby gill clapped his bleeders to his galloper and tipped the straps the double. The highwayman spurred his horse and got away from the officers.
Gallows bird. A grief, or pickpocket; also one that associates with them.
Games. Thin, ill-shapped legs: a corruption of the French word jambes. Fancy gambs; sore or swelled legs.
Gambadoes. Leathern cases of stiff leather, used in Devonshire instead of boots; they are fastened to the saddle, and admit the leg, shoe and all: the name was at first jocularly given.
Gambler. A sharper, of tricking, gamester.
Game. Any mode of robbing. The toby is now a queer game; to rob on the highway is now a bad mode of acting. This observation is frequently made by thieves; the roads being now so well guarded by the horse patrole; and gentlemen travel with little cash in their pockets.
Game. Bubbles or pigeons drawn in to be cheated. Also, at bawdy-houses, lewd women. Mother have you any game; mother, have you any girls? To die game; to suffer at the gallows without shewing any signs of fear or repentance. Game pullet; a young whore, or forward girl in the way of becoming one.
Gamon. To humbug. To deceive, To tell lies. What rum gamon the old file pitched to the flat; how finely the knowing old fellow humbugged the fool.
Gamon and patter. Common place talk of any profession; as the gamon and patter of a horse-dealer, sailor, &c.
Gan. The mouth or lips. Cant.
Gander month. That month in which a man’s wife-lies in: wherefore, during that time, husbands plead a sort of indulgence in matters of gallantry.
Gang. A company of men, a body of sailors, a knot of thieves, pickpockets, &c. A gang of sheep trotters; the four feet of a sheep.
Gaoler’s coach. A hurdle: traitors being usually conveyed from the gaol, to the place of execution, on a hurdle or sledge.
Gap stopper. A whoremaster.
Gapeseed. Sights; any thing to feed the eye. I am come abroad for a little gapeseed.
Garnish. An entrance fee demanded by the old prisoners of one just committed to gaol.
Garret, or Upper story. The head. His garret, or upper story, is empty, or unfurnished; i.e. he has no brains, he is a fool.
Garret election. A ludicrous ceremony, practised every new parliament: it consists of a mock election of two members to represent the borough of Garret (a few straggling cottages near Wandsworth in Surry); the qualification of a voter is, having enjoyed a woman in the open air within that district: the candidates are commonly fellows of low humour, who dress themselves up in a ridiculous manner. As this brings a prodigious concourse of people to Wandsworth, the publicans of that place jointly contribute to the expence, which is sometimes considerable.
Gawkey. A tall, thin, awkward young man or woman.
Gaying instrument. The penis.
Gazebo. An elevated observatory or summer-house.
Gee. It won’t gee; it won’t hit or do, it does not suit or fit.
Gelding. An eunuch.
Gelt. Money, German. — Also, castrated.
Gentle craft. The art of shoeniaking. One of the gentle craft: a shoemaker: so called because once practised by St. Crispin.
Gentleman commoner. An empty bottle; an university joke, gentlemen commoners not being deemed over full of learning.
Gentleman’s companion. A louse.
Gentleman’s master. A highway robber, because he makes a gentleman obey his commands, i.e. stand and deliver.
Gentleman of three ins. In debt, in gaol, and in danger of remaining there for life: or, in gaol, indicted, and in danger of being hanged in chains.
Gentleman of three outs. That is, without money, without wit, and without manners: some add another out, i.e. without credit.
Gentry cove. A gentleman. Cant.
Gentry cove ken. A gentleman’s house. Cant.
Gentry mort. A gentlewoman.
George. Yellow George; a guinea. Brown George: an ammunition loaf.
German duck. Haifa sheep’s head boiled with onions.
Get. One of his get; one of his offspring, or begetting.
Gib cat. A northern name for a he cat, there commonly called Gilbert. As melancholy as a gib cat; as melancholy as a he cat who has been caterwauling, whence they always return scratched, hungry, and out of spirits. Aristotle says, Omne animal post coitum est triste; to which an anonymous author has given the following exception, preter gallum gallinaceum, et sucerdotem gratis fornicantem.
Gibberish. The cant language of thieves and gypsies, called Pedlars’ French, and St. Giles’s Greek: see St. giles’s Greek. Also the mystic language of Geber, used by chymists. Gibberish likewise means a sort of disguised language, formed by inserting any consonant between each syllable of an English word; in which case it is called the gibberish of the letter inserted: if F, it is the F gibberish; if G, the G gibberish; as in the sentence How do you do? Howg dog youg dog.
Gibbe. A horse that shrinks from the collar and will not draw.
Giblets. To join giblets; said of a man and woman who cohabit as husband and wife, without being married; also to copulate.
Gibson, or Sir john gibbon, A two-legged stool, used to support the body of a coach whilst finishing.
Gifts. Small white specks under the finger nails, said to portend gifts or presents. A stingy man is said to be as full of gifts as a brazen horse of his farts.
Gift of the gab. A facility of speech.
Gigg. A nose. Snitchel his gigg; fillip his nose. Grunter’s gigg; a hog’s snout. Gigg is also a high one-horse chaise, and a woman’s privities. To gigg a Smithfield hank; to hamstring an over-drove ox, vulgarly called a mad bullock.
Gigger. A latch, or door. Dub the gigger; open the door. Gigger dubber; the turnkey of a jaol.
To Giggle. To suppress a laugh. Gigglers; wanton women.
Giles’s or St. giles’s breed. Fat, ragged, and saucy; Newton and Dyot streets, the grand head-quarters-of most of the thieves and pickpockets about London, are in St. Giles’s Giles’s parish. St. Giles’s Greek; the cant language, called also Slang, Pedlars’ French, and Flash.
Gilflurt. A proud minks, a vain capricious woman,
Gill. The abbreviation of Gillian, figuratively used for woman. Every jack has his gill; i.e. every jack has his gillian, or female mate.
Gills. The cheeks. To look rosy about the gills; to have a fresh complexion. To look merry about the gills: to appear cheerful.
Gilly gaupus. A Scotch term for a tall awkward fellow.
Gilt, or Rum dubber. A thief who picks locks, so called from the gilt or picklock key: many of them are so expert, that, from the lock of a church door to that of the smallest cabinet, they will find means to open it; these go into reputable public houses, where, pretending business, they contrive to get into private rooms, up stairs, where they open any bureaus or trunks they happen to find there.
Gimblet-eyed. Squinting, either in man or woman.
Gimcrack, or Jimcrack. A spruce wench; a gimcrack also means a person who has a turn for mechanical contrivances.
Gin spinner. A distiller.
Gingambobs. Toys, bawbles; also a man’s privities. See Thingambobs.
Ginger-pated, or Ginger-hackled. Red haired: a term borrowed from the cockpit, where red cocks are called gingers,
Gingerbread. A cake made of treacle, flour, and grated ginger; also money. He has the gingerbread; he is rich.
Gingerbread work. Gilding and carving: these terms are particularly applied by seamen on board Newcastle colliers, to the decorations of the sterns and quarters of West–Indiamen, which they have the greatest joy in defacing.
Gingerly. Softly, gently, tenderly. To go gingerly to work: to attempt a thing gently, or cautiously.
Ginny. An instrument to lift up a great, in order to steal what is in the window. Cant.
Gip from gups a Wolf. A servant at college.
Girds. Quips, taunts, severe or biting reflections.
Gizzard. To grumble in the gizzard; to be secretly displeased.
Glass eyes. A nick name for one wearing spectacles.
Glaymore. A Highland broad-sword; from the Erse Glay, or Glaive, a sword; and More, great.
Glaze. A window.
Glazier. One who breaks windows and shew-glasses, to steal goods exposed for sale. Glaziers; eyes. Cant. — Is your father a glazier; a question asked of a lad or young man, who stands between the speaker and the candle, or fire. If it is answered in the negative, the rejoinder is — I wish he was, that he might make a window through your body, to enable us to see the fire or light.
Glib. Smooth, slippery. Glib tongued; talkative.
Glim. A candle, or dark lantern, used in housebreaking; also fire. To glim; to burn in the hand. Cant.
Glimfenders. Andirons. Cant.
Glimflashy. Angry, or in a passion. Cant.
Glim jack. A link-boy. Cant.
Glimmer. Fire. Cant.
Glimmerers. Persons begging with sham licences, pretending losses by fire.
Glimms. Eyes.
Glimstick. A candlestick. Cant.
Globe. Pewter. Cant.
Gloves. To give any one a pair of gloves; to make them a present or bribe. To win a pair of gloves; to kiss a man whilst he sleeps: for this a pair of gloves is due to any lady who will thus earn them.
Gluepot. A parson: from joining men and women together in matrimony.
Glum. Sullen.
Glutton. A term used by bruisers to signify a man who will bear a great deal of beating.
Gnarler. A little dog that by his barking alarms the family when any person is breaking into the house.
Go, the. The dash. The mode. He is quite the go, he is quite varment, he is prime, he is bang up, are synonimous expressions.
Glybe. A writing. Cant.
Go between. A pimp or bawd.
Go by the ground. A little short person, man or woman.
Go shop. The Queen’s Head in Duke’s court, Bow street, Covent Garden; frequented by the under players: where gin and water was sold in three-halfpenny bowls, called Goes; the gin was called Arrack. The go, the fashion; as, large hats are all the go.
Goads. Those who wheedle in chapmen for horse-dealers.
Goat. A lascivious person. Goats jigg; making the beast with two backs, copulation.
Gob. The mouth; also a bit or morsel: whence gobbets. Gift of the gob; wide-mouthed, or one who speaks fluently, or sings well.
Gob string. A bridle.
Gobbler. A turkey cock.
Godfather. He who pays the reckoning, or answers for the rest of thecompany: as, Will you stand godfather, and we will take care of the brat; i.e. repay you another time. Jurymen are also called godfathers, because they name the crime the prisoner before them has been guilty of, whether felony, petit larceny, &c.
Gog. All-a-gog; impatient, anxious, or desirous of a thing.
Gog and magog. Two giants, whose effigies stand on each side of the clock in Guildhall, London; of whom there is a tradition, that, when they hear the clock strike one, on the first of April, they will walk down from their places.
Goggles. Eyes: see Ogles. Goggle eyes; large prominent eyes. To goggle; to stare.
Going upon the dub. Going out to break open, or pick the locks of, houses.
Gold droppers. Sharpers who drop a piece of gold, which they pick up in the presence of some unexperienced person, for whom the trap is laid, this they pretend to have found, and, as he saw them pick it up, they invite him to a public house to partake of it: when there, two or three of their comrades drop in, as if by accident, and propose cards, or some other game, when they seldom fail of stripping their prey.
Gold finder. One whose employment is to empty necessary houses; called also a tom-turd-man, and night-man: the latter, from that business being always performed in the night.
Goldfinch. One who has commonly a purse full of gold. Goldfinches; guineas.
Golgotha or the place of sculls. Part of the Theatre at Oxford, where the heads of houses sit; those gentlemen being by the wits of the university called sculls.
Gollumpus. A large, clumsy fellow.
Goloshes, i.e. Goliah’s shoes. Large leathern clogs, worn by invalids over their ordinary shoes.
Good man. A word of various imports, according to the place where it is spoken: in the city it means a rich man; at Hockley in the Hole, or St. Giles’s, an expert boxer; at a bagnio in Covent Garden, a vigorous fornicator; at an alehouse or tavern, one who loves his pot or bottle; and sometimes, though but rarely, a virtuous man
Good woman. A nondescript, represented on a famous sign in St. Giles’s, in the form of a common woman, but without a head.
Goodyer’s pig. Like Goodyer’s pig; never well but when in mischief.
Goose. A taylor’s goose; a smoothing iron used to press down the seams, for which purpose it must be heated: hence it is a jocular saying, that a taylor, be he ever so poor, is always sure to have a goose at his fire. He cannot say boh to a goose; a saying of a bashful or sheepish fellow.
Goose riding. A goose, whose neck is greased, being suspended by the legs to a cord tied to two trees or high posts, a number of men on horseback, riding full speed, attempt to pull off the head: which if they effect, the goose is their prize. This has been practised in Derbyshire within the memory of persons now living.
Gooseberry. He played up old gooseberry among them; said of a person who, by force or threats, suddenly puts an end to a riot or disturbance.
Gooseberry-eyed. One with dull grey eyes, like boiled gooseberries.
Gooseberry wig. A large frizzled wig: perhaps from a supposed likeness to a gooseberry bush.
Goosecap. A silly fellow or woman.
Gorger. A gentleman. A well dressed man. Mung kiddey. Mung the gorger; beg child beg, of the gentleman.
Gospel shop. A church.
Goree. Money, chiefly gold: perhaps from the traffic carried on at that place, which is chiefly for gold dust. Cant.
Gormagon. A monster with six eyes, three mouths, four arms, eight legs, five on one side and three on the other, three arses, two tarses, and a *** upon its back; a man on horseback, with a woman behind him.
Gotch-gutted. Pot bellied: a gotch in Norfolk signifying a pitcher, or large round jug.
To gouge. To squeeze out a man’s eye with the thumb: a cruel practice used by the Bostonians in America.
To Grabble. To seize. To grabble the bit; to seize any one’s money. Cant.
Grafted. Cuckolded, i.e. having horns grafted on his head.
To Grab. To seize a man. The pigs grabbed the kiddey for a crack: the officers seized the youth for a burglary.
Grannam. Corn.
Grannum’s gold. Hoarded money: supposed to have belonged to the grandmother of the possessor.
Granny. An abbreviation of grandmother; also the name of an idiot, famous for licking, her eye, who died Nov. 14, 1719. Go teach your granny to suck eggs; said to such as would instruct any one in a matter he knows better than themselves.
Grapple the rails. A cant name used in Ireland for whiskey.
Grappling irons. Handcuffs.
Grave digger. Like a grave digger; up to the a-se in business, and don’t know which way to turn.
Gravy-eyed. Blear-eyed, one whose eyes have a running humour.
To grease. To bribe. To grease a man in the fist; to bribe him. To grease a fat sow in the a-se; to give to a rich man. Greasy chin; a treat given to parish officers in part of commutation for a bastard: called also, Eating a child.
Great intimate. As great as shirt and shitten a-se.
Great joseph. A surtout. Cant.
Greedy guts. A covetous or voracious person.
Greek. St. Giles’s Greek; the slang lingo, cant, or gibberish.
Green. Doctor Green; i.e. grass: a physician, or rather medicine, found very successful in curing most disorders to which horses are liable. My horse is not well, I shall send him to Doctor Green.
Green. Young, inexperienced, unacquainted; ignorant. How green the cull was not to stag how the old file planted the books. How ignorant the booby was not to perceive how the old sharper placed the cards in such a manner as to insure the game.
Green bag. An attorney: those gentlemen carry their clients’ deeds in a green bag; and, it is said, when they have no deeds to carry, frequently fill them with an old pair of breeches, or any other trumpery, to give themselves the appearance of business.
Green gown. To give a girl a green gown; to tumble her on the grass.
Green sickness. The disease of maids occasioned by celibacy.
Greenhead. An inexperienced young man.
Greenhorn. A novice on the town, an undebauched young fellow, just initiated into the society of bucks and bloods.
Greenwich barbers. Retailers of sand from the pits at and about Greenwich, in Kent: perhaps they are styled barbers, from their constant shaving the sandbanks.
Greenwich goose. A pensioner of Greenwich Hospital.
Gregorian tree. The gallows: so named from Gregory Brandon, a famous finisher of the law; to whom Sir William Segar, garter king of arms (being imposed on by Brooke, a herald), granted a coat of arms.
Grey beard. Earthen jugs formerly used in public house for drawing ale: they had the figure of a man with a large beard stamped on them; whence probably they took the name: see Ben jonson’s plays, bartholomew fair, &c. &c. Dutch earthen jugs, used for smuggling gin on the coasts of Essex and Suffolk, are at this time called grey beards.
Grey mare. The grey mare is the better horse; said of a woman who governs her husband.
Grey parson. A farmer who rents the tithes of the rector or vicar.
Grig. A farthing. A merry grig; a fellow as merry as a grig: an allusion to the apparent liveliness of a grig, or young eel.
Grim. Old Mr. Grim; death.
Grimalkin. A cat: mawkin signifies a hare in Scotland.
Grin. To grin in a glass case; to be anatomized for murder: the skeletons of many criminals are preserved in glass cases, at Surgeons’ hall.
Grinagog, the cat’s uncle. A foolish grinning fellow, one who grins without reason.
Grinders. Teeth. Gooseberry grinder; the breech. Ask bogey, the gooseberry grinder; ask mine a-se.
To grind. To have carnal knowledge of a woman.
Groats. To save his groats; to come off handsomely: at the universities, nine groats are deposited in the hands of an academic officer, by every person standing for a degree; which if the depositor obtains with honour, the groats are returned to him.
Grog. Rum and water. Grog was first introduced into the navy about the year 1740, by Admiral Vernon, to prevent the sailors intoxicating themselves with their allowance of rum, or spirits. Groggy, or groggified; drunk.
Grog-blossom. A carbuncle, or pimple in the face, caused by drinking.
Grogged. A grogged horse; a foundered horse.
Grogham. A horse. Cant.
Gropers. Blind men; also midwives.
Ground sweat. A grave.
Ground squirrel. A hog, or pig. Sea term.
Grub. Victuals. To grub; to dine.
Grub street. A street near Moorfields, formerly the supposed habitation of many persons who wrote for the booksellers: hence a Grub-street writer means a hackney author, who manufactures booss for the booksellers.
Grub street news. Lying intelligence.
To grubshite. To make foul or dirty.
Grumble. To grumble in the gizzard; to murmur or repine. He grumbled like a bear with a sore head.
Grumbletonian. A discontented person; one who is always railing at the times or ministry.
Grunter. A hog; to grunt; to groan, or complain of sickness.
Grunter’s gig. A smoaked hog’s face.
Grunting peck. Pork, bacon, or any kind of hog’s flesh.
Gruts. Tea.
Gudgeon. One easily imposed on. To gudgeon; to swallow the bait, or fall into a trap: from the fish of that name, which is easily taken.
Gull. A simple credulous fellow, easily cheated.
Gulled. Deceived, cheated, imposed on.
Gullgropers. Usurers who lend money to the gamesters.
Gum. Abusive language. Come, let us have no more of your gum.
Gummy. Clumsy: particularly applied to the ancles of men or women, and the legs of horses.
Gumption, or Rum gumption. Docility, comprehension, capacity.
Gun. He is in the gun; he is drunk: perhaps from an allusion to a vessel called a gun, used for ale in the universities.
Gundiguts. A fat, pursy fellow.
Gunner’s daughter. To kiss the gunner’s daughter; to be tied to a gun and flogged on the posteriors; a mode of punishing boys on board a ship of war.
Gunpowder. An old Woman. Cant.
Guts. My great guts are ready to eat my little ones; my guts begin to think my throat’s cut; my guts curse my teeth: all expressions signifying the party is extremely hungry.
Guts and garbage. A very fat man or woman. More guts than brains; a silly fellow. He has plenty of guts, but no bowels: said of a hard, merciless, unfeeling person.
Gutfoundered. Exceeding hungry.
Gut scraper, or Tormentor of Catgut. A fiddler.
Gutter lane. The throat, the swallow, the red lane. See Red lane.
Gutting a quart pot. Taking out the lining of it: i. e. drinking it off. Gutting an oyster; eating it. Gutting a house; clearing it of its furniture. See Poulterer.
Guy. A dark lanthorn: an allusion to Guy Faux, the principal actor in the gunpowder plot. Stow the guy: conceal the lanthorn.
Guzzle. Liquor. To guzzle; to drink greedily.
Guzzle guts. One greedy of liquor.
Gybe, or Jybe. Any writing or pass with a seal.
Gybing. Jeering or ridiculing.
Gyles, or Giles. Hopping Giles; a nick name for a lame person: St. Giles was the tutelar saint of cripples.
Gyp. A college runner or errand-boy at Cambridge, called at Oxford a scout. See Scout.
Gypsies. A set of vagrants, who, to the great disgrace of our police, are suffered to wander about the country. They pretend that they derive their origin from the ancient Egyptians, who were famous for their knowledge in astronomy and other sciences; and, under the pretence of fortune-telling, find means to rob or defraud the ignorant and superstitious. To colour their impostures, they artificially discolour their faces, and speak a kind of gibberish peculiar to themselves. They rove up and down the country in large companies, to the great terror of the farmers, from whose geese, turkeys, and fowls, they take very considerable contributions.
When a fresh recruit is admitted into the fraternity, he is to take the following oath, administered by the principal maunder, after going through the annexed forms:
First, a new name is given him by which he is ever after to be called; then standing up in the middle of the assembly, and directing his face to the dimber damber, or principal man of the gang, he repeats the following oath, which is dictated to him by some experienced member of the fraternity:
I, Crank Cuffin, do swear to be a true brother, and that I will in all things obey the commands of the great tawney prince, and keep his counsel and not divulge the secrets of my brethren.
I will never leave nor forsake the company, but observe and keep all the times of appointment, either by day or by night, in every place whatever.
I will not teach any one to cant, nor will I disclose any of our mysteries to them.
I will take my prince’s part against all that shall oppose him, or any of us, according to the utmost of my ability; nor will I suffer him, or any one belongiug to us, to be abused by any strange abrams, rufflers, hookers, pailliards, swaddlers, Irish toyles, swigmen, whip jacks, jarkmen, bawdy baskets, dommerars, clapper dogeons, patricoes, or curtals; but will defend him, or them, as much as I can, against all other outliers whatever. I will not conceal aught I win out of libkins or from the ruffmans, but will preserve it for the use of the company. Lastly, I will cleave to my doxy wap stiffly, and will bring her duds, marjery praters, goblers, grunting cheats, or tibs of the buttery, or any thing else I can come at, as winnings for her weppings.
The canters have, it seems, a tradition, that from the three first articles of this oath, the first founders of a certain boastful, worshipful fraternity (who pretend to derive their origin from the earliest times) borrowed both the hint and form of their establishment; and that their pretended derivation from the first Adam is a forgery, it being only from the first Adam Tiler: see Adam tiler. At the admission of a new brother, a general stock is raised for booze, or drink, to make themselves merry on the occasion. As for peckage or eatables, they can procure without money; for while some are sent to break the ruffmans, or woods and bushes, for firing, others are detached to filch geese, chickens, hens, ducks (or mallards), and pigs. Their morts are their butchers, who presently make bloody work with what living things are brought them; and having made holes in the ground under some remote hedge in an obscure place, they make a fire and boil or broil their food; and when it is enough, fall to work tooth and nail: and having eaten more like beasts than men, they drink more like swine than human creatures, entertaining one another all the time with songs in the canting dialect.
As they live, so they lie, together promiscuously, and know not how to claim a property either in their goods or children: and this general interest ties them more firmly together than if all their rags were twisted into ropes, to bind them indissolubly from a separation; which detestable union is farther consolidated by the above oath.
They stroll up and down all summer-time in droves, and Dexterously pick pockets, while they are telling of fortunes; and the money, rings, silver thirribles, &c. which they get, are instantly conveyed from one hand to another, till the remotest person of the gang (who is not suspected because they come not near the person robbed) gets possession of it; so that, in the strictest search, it is impossible to recover it; while the wretches with imprecations, oaths, and protestations, disclaim the thievery.
That by which they are said to get the most money, is, when young gentlewomen of good families and reputation have happened to be with child before marriage, a round sum is often bestowed among the gypsies, for some one mort to take the child; and as that is never heard of more by the true mother and family, so the disgrace is kept concealed from the world; and, if the child lives, it never knows its parents.
Haberdasher of pronouns. A schoolmaster, or usher.
Hackney writer. One who writes for attornies or booksellers.
Hackum. Captain Hackum; a bravo, a slasher.
Had’em. He has been at Had’em, and came home by Clapham; said of one who has caught the venereal disease.
Hair splitter. A man’s yard.
Halbert. A weapon carried by a serjeant of foot. To get a halbert; to be appointed a serjeant. To be brought to the halberts; to be flogged a la militaire: soldiers of the infantry, when flogged, being commonly tied to three halberts, set up in a triangle, with a fourth fastened across them. He carries the halbert in his face; a saying of one promoted from a serjeant to a commission officer.
Half a hog. Sixpence.
Half seas over. Almost drunk.
Hamlet. A high constable. Cant.
Hams, or Hamcases Breeches.
Hand. A sailor. We lost a hand; we lost a sailor. Bear a hand; make haste. Hand to fist; opposite: the same as tete-a-tete, or cheek by joul.
Hand and pocket shop. An eating house, where ready money is paid for what is called for.
Hand basket portion. A woman whose husband receives frequent presents from her father, or family, is said to have a hand-basket portion.
Handle. To know how to handle one’s fists; to be skilful in the art of boxing. The cove flashes a rare handle to his physog; the fellow has a large nose.
Handsome. He is a handsome-bodied man in the face; a jeering commendation of an ugly fellow. Handsome is that handsome does: a proverb frequently cited by ugly women.
Handsome reward. This, in advertisements, means a horse-whipping.
To Hang an arse. To hang back, to hesitate.
Hang gallows look. A thievish, or villainous appearance.
Hang in chains. A vile, desperate fellow. Persons guilty of murder, or other atrocious crimes, are frequently, after execution, hanged on a gibbet, to which they are fastened by iron bandages; the gibbet is commonly placed on or near the place where the crime was committed.
Hang it up. Score it up: speaking of a reckoning.
Hang out. The traps scavey where we hang out; the officers know where we live.
Hanger on. A dependant.
Hangman’s wages. Thirteen pence halfpenny; which, according to the vulgar tradition, was thus allotted: one shilling for the executioner, and three halfpence for the rope — N. B. This refers to former times; the hangmen of the present day having, like other artificers, raised their prices. The true state of this matter is, that a Scottish mark was the fee allowed for an execution, and the value of that piece was settled by a proclamation of James I. at thirteen pence halfpenny.
Hank. He has a hank on him; i.e. an ascendancy over him, or a hold upon him. A Smithfield hank; an ox, rendered furious by overdriving and barbarous treatment. See Bull hank.
Hanker. To hanker after any thing; to have a longing after or for it.
Hans in kelder. Jack in the cellar, i.e. the child in the womb: a health frequently drank to breeding women or their husbands.
Hard. Stale beer, nearly sour, is said to be hard. Hard also means severe: as, hard fate, a hard master.
Hard at his a-se. Close after him.
Hare. He has swallowed a hare; he is drunk; more probably a Hair, which requires washing down,
Hark-ye-ing. Whispering on one side to borrow money.
Harman. A constable. Cant.
Harman beck. A beadle. Cant.
Harmans. The stocks. Cant.
Harp. To harp upon; to dwell upon a subject. Have among you, my blind harpers; an expression used in throwing or shooting at random among the crowd. Harp is also the Irish expression for woman, or tail, used in tossing up in Ireland: from Hibernia, being represented with a harp on the reverse of the copper coins of that country; for which it is, in hoisting the copper, i.e. tossing up, sometimes likewise called music.
Harridan. A hagged old woman; a miserable, scraggy, worn-out harlot, fit to take her bawd’s degree: derived from the French word Haridelle, a worn-out jade of a horse or mare.
Harry. A country fellow. Cant. — Old Harry; the Devil.
Harum scarum. He was running harum scarum; said of any one running or walking hastily, and in a hurry, after they know not what.
Hash. To flash the hash; to vomit. Cant.
Hasty. Precipitate, passionate. He is none of the Hastings sort; a saying of a slow, loitering fellow: an allusion to the Hastings pea, which is the first in season.
Hasty pudding. Oatmeal and milk boiled to a moderate thickness, and eaten with sugar and butter. Figuratively, a wet, muddy road: as, The way through Wandsworth is quite a hasty pudding. To eat hot hasty pudding for a laced hat, or some other prize, is a common feat at wakes and fairs.
Hat. Old hat; a woman’s privities: because frequently felt.
Hatches. Under the hatches; in trouble, distress, or debt.
Hatchet face. A long thin face.
Havil. A sheep. Cant.
Havy cavy. Wavering, doubtful, shilly shally.
Hawk. Ware hawk; the word to look sharp, a bye-word when a bailiff passes. Hawk also signifies a sharper, in opposition to pigeon. See Pigeon. See Ware hawk.
Hawkers. Licensed itinerant retailers of different commodities, called also pedlars; likewise the sellers of news-papers. Hawking; an effort to spit up the thick phlegm, called Oysters: whence it is wit upon record, to ask the person so doing whether he has a licence; a punning allusion to the Act of hawkers and pedlars.
To Hazel gild. To beat any one with a hazel stick.
Head cully of the pass, or Passage bank. The top tilter of that gang throughout the whole army, who demands and receives contribution from all the pass banks in the camp.
Head rails. Teeth. Sea phrase.
Hearing cheats. Ears. Cant.
Heart’s ease. Gin.
Hearty choak. He will have a hearty choak and caper sauce for breakfast; i.e. he will be hanged.
Heathen philosopher. One whose breech may be seen through his pocket-hole: this saying arose from the old philosophers, many of whom depised the vanity of dress to such a point, as often to fall into the opposite extreme.
To heave. To rob. To heave a case; to rob a house. To heave a bough; to rob a booth. Cant.
Heaver. The breast. Cant.
Heavers. Thieves who make it their business to steal tradesmen’s shop-books. Cant.
Hector. bully, a swaggering coward. To hector; to bully, probably from such persons affecting the valour of Hector, the Trojan hero.
Hedge. To make a hedge; to secure a bet, or wager, laid on one side, by taking the odds on the other, so that, let what will happen, a certain gain is secured, or hedged in, by the person who takes this precaution; who is then said to be on velvet.
Hedge alehouse. A small obscure alehouse.
Hedge creeper. A robber of hedges.
Hedge priest. An illiterate unbeneficed curate, a patrico.
Hedge whore. An itinerant harlot, who bilks the bagnios and bawdy-houses, by disposing of her favours on the wayside, under a hedge; a low beggarly prostitute.
Heels. To he laid by the heels; to be confined, or put in prison. Out at heels; worn, or diminished: his estate or affairs are out at heels. To turn up his heels; to turn up the knave of trumps at the game of all-fours.
Heel tap. A peg in the heel of a shoe, taken out when it is finished. A person leaving any liquor in his glass, is frequently called upon by the toast-master to take off his heel-tap.
Hell. A taylor’s repository for his stolen goods, called cabbage: see Cabbage. Little hell; a small dark covered passage, leading from London-wall to Bell-alley.
Hell-born babe. A lewd graceless youth, one naturally of a wicked disposition.
Hell cat. A termagant, a vixen, a furious scolding woman. See Termagant and Vixen.
Hell hound. A wicked abandoned fellow.
Hell fire dick. The Cambridge driver of the Telegraph. The favorite companion of the University fashionables, and the only tutor to whose precepts they attend.
Helter skelter. To run helter skelter, hand over head, in defiance of order.
Hemp. Young hemp; an appellation for a graceless boy.
Hempen fever. A man who was hanged is said to have died of a hempen fever; and, in Dorsetshire, to have been stabbed with a Bridport dagger; Bridport being a place famous for manufacturing hemp into cords.
Hempen widow. One whose husband was hanged.
Hen-hearted. Cowardly.
Hen house. A house where the woman rules; called also a She house, and Hen frigate: the latter a sea phrase, originally applied to a ship, the captain of which had his wife on board, supposed to command him.
Henpecked. A husband governed by his wife, is said to be henpecked.
Hen. A woman. A cock and hen club; a club composed of men and women.
Here and thereian. One who has no settled place of residence.
Herring. The devil a barrel the better herring; all equally bad.
Herring gutted. Thin, as a shotten hering.
Herring pond. The sea. To cross the herring pond at the king’s expence; to be transported.
Hertfordshire kindness. Drinking twice to the same person.
Hick. A country hick; an ignorant clown. Cant.
Hickenbothom. Mr. Hickenbothom; a ludicrous name for an unknown person, similar to that of Mr. Thingambob. Hickenbothom, i.e. a corruption of the German word ickenbaum, i.e. oak tree.
Hickey. Tipsey; quasi, hickupping.
Hide and seek. A childish game. He plays at hide and seek; a saying of one who is in fear of being arrested for debt, or apprehended for some crime, and therefore does not chuse to appear in public, but secretly skulks up and down. See Skulk.
Hidebound. Stingy, hard of delivery; a poet poor in invention, is said to have a hidebound muse.
Higgledy piggledy. Confusedly mixed.
High eating. To eat skylarks in a garret.
High flyers. Tories, Jacobites.
High jinks. A gambler at dice, who, having a strong head, drinks to intoxicate his adversary, or pigeon.
High living. To lodge in a garret, or cockloft
High pad. A highwayman. Cant.
High ropes. To be on the high ropes; to be in a passion.
High shoon, or Clouted shoon. A country clown.
High water. It is high water, with him; he is full of money.
Highgate. Sworn at Highgate — a ridiculous custom formerly prevailed at the public-houses in Highgate, to administer a ludicrous oath to all travellers of the middling rank who stopped there. The party was sworn on a pair of horns, fastened on a stick: the substance of the oath was, never to kiss the maid when he could kiss the mistress, never to drink small beer when he could get strong, with many other injunctions of the like kind; to all which was added the saving cause of “unless you like it best.” The person administering the oath was always to be called father by the juror; and he, in return, was to style him son, under the penalty of a bottle.
Hike. To hike off; to run away. Cant.
Hind leg. To kick out a hind leg; to make a rustic bow.
Hinney, my honey. A north country hinney, particularly a Northumbrian: in that county, hinney is the general term of endearment.
History of the four kings, or Child’s best guide to the gallows. A pack of cards. He studies the history of the four kings assiduously; he plays much at cards.
Hoaxing. Bantering, ridiculing. Hoaxing a quiz; joking an odd fellow. University wit.
Hob, or Hobbinol, a clown.
Hob or nob. Will you hob or nob with me? a question formerly in fashion at polite tables, signifying a request or challenge to drink a glass of wine with the proposer: if the party challenged answered Nob, they were to chuse whether white or red. This foolish custom is said to have originated in the days of good queen Bess, thus: when great chimnies were in fashion, there was at each corner of the hearth, or grate, a small elevated projection, called the hob; and behind it a seat. In winter time the beer was placed on the hob to warm: and the cold beer was set on a small table, said to have been called the nob; so that the question, Will you have hob or nob? seems only to have meant, Will you have warm or cold beer? i.e. beer from the hob, or beer from the nob.
Hobberdehoy. Half a man and half a boy, a lad between both.
Hobbled. Impeded, interrupted, puzzled. To hobble; to walk lamely.
Hobbledygee. A pace between a walk and a run, a dog-trot.
Hobby. Sir Posthumous’s hobby; one nice or whimsical in his clothes.
Hobby horse. A man’s favourite amusement, or study, is called his hobby horse. It also means a particular kind of small Irish horse: and also a wooden one, such as is given to children.
Hobby horsical. A man who is a great keeper or rider of hobby horses; one that is apt to be strongly attached to his systems of amusement.
Hobnail. A country clodhopper: from the shoes of country farmers and ploughmen being commonly stuck full of hob-nails, and even often clouted, or tipped with iron. The Devil ran over his face with hobnails in his shoes; said of one pitted With the small pox.
Hobson’s choice. That or none; from old Hobson, a famous carrier of Cambridge, who used to let horses to the students; but never permitted them to chuse, always allotting each man the horse he thought properest for his manner of riding and treatment.
Hocks. vulgar appellation for the feet. You have left the marks of your dirty hocks on my clean stairs; a frequent complaint from a mop squeezer to a footman.
Hockey. Drunk with strong stale beer, called old hock. See Hickey.
Hocking, or Houghing. A piece of cruelty practised by the butchers of Dublin, on soldiers, by cutting the tendon of Achilles; this has been by law made felony.
Hocus pocus. Nonsensical words used by jugglers, previous to their deceptions, as a kind of charm, or incantation. A celebrated writer supposes it to be a ludicrous corruption of the words hoc est corpus, used by the popish priests in consecrating the host. Also Hell Hocus is used to express drunkenness: as, he is quite hocus; he is quite drunk.
Hod. Brother Hod; a familiar name for a bricklayer’s labourer: from the hod which is used for carrying bricks and mortar.
Hoddy doddy, all a-se and no body. A short clumsy person, either male or female.
Hodge. An abbreviation of Roger: a general name for a country booby.
Hodge podge. An irregular mixture of numerous things.
Hodmandods. Snails in their shells.
Hog. A shilling. To drive one’s hogs; to snore: the noise made by some persons in snoring, being not much unlike the notes of that animal. He has brought his hogs to a fine market; a saying of any one who has been remarkably successful in his affairs, and is spoken ironically to signify the contrary. A hog in armour; an awkward or mean looking man or woman, finely dressed, is said to look like a hog in armour. To hog a horse’s mane; to cut it short, so that the ends of the hair stick up like hog’s bristles. Jonian hogs; an appellation given to the members of St. John’s College, Cambridge.
Hog grubber. A mean stingy fellow.
Hoggish. Rude, unmannerly, filthy.
Hogo. Corruption of haut goust, high taste, or flavour; commonly said of flesh somewhat tainted. It has a confounded hogo; it stinks confoundedly.
Hoist. To go upon the hoist; to get into windows accidentally left open: this is done by the assistance of a confederate, called the hoist, who leans his head against the wall, making his back a kind of step or ascent.
Hoisting. A ludicrous ceremony formerly performed on every soldier, the first time he appeared in the field after being married; it was thus managed: As soon as the regiment, or company, had grounded their arms to rest a while, three or four men of the same company to which the bridegroom belonged, seized upon him, and putting a couple of bayonets out of the two corners of his hat, to represent horns, it was placed on his head, the back part foremost. He was then hoisted on the shoulders of two strong fellows, and carried round the arms, a drum and fife beating and playing the pioneers call, named Round Heads and Cuckolds, but on this occasion styled the Cuckold’s March; in passing the colours, he was to take off his hat: this, in some regiments, was practised by the officers on their brethren, Hoisting, among pickpockets, is, setting a man on his head, that his money, watch, &c. may fall out of his pockets; these they pick up, and hold to be no robbery. See Reversed.
Hoity-toity. A hoity-toity wench; a giddy, thoughtless, romping girl.
Holborn hill. To ride backwards up Holborn hill; to go to the gallows: the way to Tyburn, the place of execution for criminals condemned in London, was up that hill. Criminals going to suffer, always ride backwards, as some conceive to increase the ignominy, but more probably to prevent them being shocked with a distant view of the gallows; as, in amputations, surgeons conceal the instruments with which they are going to operate. The last execution at Tyburn, and consequently of this procession, was in the year 1784, since which the criminals have been executed near Newgate
Holiday. A holiday bowler; a bad bowler. Blind man’s holiday; darkness, night. A holiday is any part of a ship’s bottom, left uncovered in paying it. Sea term. It is all holiday; See All holiday.
Holy father. A butcher’s boy of St. Patrick’s Market, Dublin, or other Irish blackguard; among whom the exclamation, or oath, by the Holy Father (meaning the Pope), is common.
Holy lamb. A thorough-paced villain. Irish.
Holy water. He loves him as the Devil loves holy water, i.e. hates him mortally. Holy water, according to the Roman Catholics, having the virtue to chase away the Devil and his imps.
Hollow. It was quiet a hollow thing; i.e. a certainty, or decided business.
Honest man. A term frequently used by superiors to inferiors. As honest a man as any in the cards when all the kings are out; i.e. a knave. I dare not call thee rogue for fear of the law, said a quaker to an attorney; but I wil give thee five pounds, if thou canst find any creditable person who wilt say thou art an honest man.
Honest woman. To marry a woman with whom one has cohabitated as a mistress, is termed, making an honest woman of her.
Honey moon. The first month after marriage. A poor honey; a harmless, foolish, goodnatured fellow. It is all honey or a t — d with them; said of persons who are either in the extremity of friendship or enmity, either kissing or fighting.
Hood-winked. Blindfolded by a handkerchief, or other ligature, bound over the eyes.
Hoof. To beat the hoof; to travel on foot. He hoofed it or beat the hoof, every step of the way from Chester to London.
Hook and snivey, with nix the buffer. This rig consists in feeding a man and a dog for nothing, and is carried on thus: Three men, one of who pretends to be sick and unable to eat, go to a public house: the two well men make a bargain with the landlord for their dinner, and when he is out of sight, feed their pretended sick companion and dog gratis.
Hookee walker. An expression signifying that the story is not true, or that the thing will not occour.
Hooked. Over-reached, tricked, caught: a simile taken from fishing. **** hooks; fingers.
Hookers. See Anglers.
Hoop. To run the hoop; an ancient marine custom. Four or more boys having their left hands tied fast to an iron hoop, and each of them a rope, called a nettle, in their right, being naked to the waist, wait the signal to begin: this being made by a stroke with a cat of nine tails, given by the boatswain to one of the boys, he strikes the boy before him, and every one does the same: at first the blows are but gently administered; but each irritated by the strokes from the boy behind him, at length lays it on in earnest. This was anciently practised when a ship was wind-bound.
To hoop. To beat. I’ll well hoop his or her barrel, I’ll beat him or her soundly.
To hop the twig. To run away. Cant.
Hop merchant. A dancing master. See Caper merchant.
Hop-o-my-thumb. A diminutive person, man or woman. She was such a-hop-o-my thumb, that a pigeon, sitting on her shoulder, might pick a pea out of her a-se.
Hopkins. Mr. Hopkins; a ludicrous address to a lame or limping man, being a pun on the word hop.
Hopping giles. A jeering appellation given to any person who limps, or is lame; St. Giles was the patron of cripples, lepers, &c. Churches dedicated to that saint commonly stand out of town, many of them having been chapels to hospitals. See Gyles.
Hopper-arsed. Having large projecting buttocks: from their resemblance to a small basket, called a hopper or hoppet, worn by husbandmen for containing seed corn, when they sow the land.
Horns. To draw in one’s horns; to retract an assertion through fear: metaphor borrowed from a snail, who on the apprehension of danger, draws in his horns, and retires to his shell.
Horn colic. A temporary priapism.
Horn fair. An annual fair held at Charlton, in Kent, on St. Luke’s day, the 18th of October. It consists of a riotous mob, who after a printed summons dispersed through the adjacent towns, meet at Cuckold’s Point, near Deptford, and march from thence in procession, through that town and Greenwich, to Charlton, with horns of different kinds upon their heads; and at the fair there are sold rams horns, and every sort of toy made of horn; even the gingerbread figures have horns, The vulgar tradition gives the following history of the origin of this fair; King John, or some other of our ancient kings, being at the palace of Eltham, in this neighbourhood, and having been out a hunting one day, rambled from his company to this place, then a mean hamlet; when entering a cottage to inquire his way, he was struck with the beauty of the mistress, whom he found alone; and having prevailed over her modesty, the husband returning suddenly, surprised them together; and threatening to kill them both, the king was obliged to discover himself, and to compound for his safety by a purse of gold, and a grant of the land from this place to Cuckold’s Point, besides making the husband master of the hamlet. It is added that, in memory of this grant, and the occasion of it, this fair was established, for the sale of horns, and all sorts of goods made with that material. A sermon is preached at Charlton church on the fair day.
Horn mad. A person extremely jealous of his wife, is said to be horn mad. Also a cuckold, who does not cut or breed his horns easily.
Horn work. Cuckold-making.
Hornified. Cuckolded.
Horse buss. A kiss with a loud smack; also a bite.
Horse coser. A dealer in horses: vulgarly and corruptly pronounced Horse courser. The verb To cose was used by the Scots, in the sense of bartering or exchanging.
Horse godmother. A large masculine woman, a gentlemanlike kind of a lady.
Horse ladder. A piece of Wiltshire wit, which consists in sending some raw lad, or simpleton, to a neighbouring farm house, to borrow a horse ladder, in order to get up the horses, to finish a hay-mow.
Horse’s meal. A meal without drinking.
Hosteler, i.e. oat stealer. Hosteler was originally the name for an inn-keeper; inns being in old English styled hostels, from the French signifying the same.
Hot pot. Ale and brandy made hot.
Hot stomach. He has so hot a stomach, that he burns all the clothes off his back; said of one who pawns his clothes to purchase liquor.
House, or Tenement, to let. A widow’s weeds; also an atchievement marking the death of a husband, set up on the outside of a mansion: both supposed to indicate that the dolorous widow wants a male comforter.
Hoydon. A romping girl.
Hubble-bubble. Confusion. A hubble-bubble fellow; a man of confused ideas, or one thick of speech, whose words sound like water bubbling out of a bottle. Also an instrument used for smoaking through water in the East Indies, called likewise a caloon, and hooker.
Hubble de shuff. Confusedly. To fire hubble de shuff, to fire quick and irregularly. Old military term.
Hubbub. A noise, riot, or disturbance.
Huckle my buff. Beer, egg, and brandy, made hot.
Hucksters. Itinerant retailers of provisions. He is in hucksters hands; he is in a bad way.
To hue. To lash. The cove was hued in the naskin; the rogue was soundly lashed in bridewell. Cant.
To huff. To reprove, or scold at any one; also to bluster, bounce, ding, or swagger. A captain huff; a noted bully. To stand the huff; to be answerable for the reckoning in a public house.
Hug. To hug brown bess; to carry a firelock, or serve as a private soldier. He hugs it as the Devil hugs a witch: said of one who holds any thing as if he was afraid of losing it.
Hugger mugger. By stealth, privately, without making an appearance. They spent their money in a hugger mugger way.
Hugotontheonbiquiffinarians. A society existing in 1748.
Hulky, or Hulking. A great hulky fellow; an over-grown clumsy lout, or fellow.
Hulver-headed. Having a hard impenetrable head; hulver, in the Norfolk dialect, signifying holly, a hard and solid wood.
To hum, or Humbug. To deceive, or impose on one by some story or device. A humbug; a jocular imposition, or deception. To hum and haw; to hesitate in speech, also to delay, or be with difficulty brought to consent to any matter or business,
Hums. Persons at church. There is a great number of hums in the autem; there is a great congregation in the church.
Hum box. A pulpit.
Hum cap. Very old and strong beer, called also stingo. See Stingo.
Hum drum. A hum drum fellow; a dull tedious narrator, a bore; also a set of gentlemen, who (Bailey says) used to meet near the Charter House, or at the King’s Head in St. John’s-street, who had more of pleasantry, and less of mystery, than the free masons.
Hum durgeon. An imaginary illness. He has got the humdurgeon, the thickest part of his thigh is nearest his a-se; i.e. nothing ails him except low spirits.
Humbugs. The brethren of the venerable society of humbugs was held at brother Hallam’s, in Goodman’s Fields.
Hummer. A great lye, a rapper. See Rapper.
Humming liquor. Double ale, stout pharaoh. See Pharaoh.
Hummums. A bagnio, or bathing house.
Hum trum. A musical instrument made of a mopstick, a bladder, and some packthread, thence also called a bladder and string, and hurdy gurdy; it is played on like a violin, which is sometimes ludicrously called a humstrum; sometimes, instead of a bladder, a tin canister is used.
Hump. To hump; once a fashionable word for copulation.
Humpty dumpty. A little humpty dumpty man or woman; a short clumsy person of either sex: also ale boiled with brandy.
To hunch. To jostle, or thrust.
Hunch-backed. Hump-backed.
Hung beef. A dried bull’s pizzle. How the dubber served the cull with hung beef; how the turnkey beat the fellow with a bull’s pizzle.
Hunks. A covetous miserable fellow, a miser; also the name of a famous bear mentioned by Ben Jonson.
Hunt’s dog. He is like Hunt’s dog, will neither go to church nor stay at home. One Hunt, a labouring man at a small town in Shropshire, kept a mastiff, who on being shut up on Sundays, whilst his master went to church, howled so terribly as to disturb the whole village; wherefore his master resolved to take him to church with him: but when he came to the church door, the dog having perhaps formerly been whipped out by the sexton, refused to enter; whereupon Hunt exclaimed loudly against his dog’s obstinacy, who would neither go to church nor stay at home. This shortly became a bye-word for discontented and whimsical persons.
Hunting. Drawing in unwary persons to play or game. Cant.
Hunting the squirrel. An amusement practised by postboys and stage-coachmen, which consists in following a one-horse chaise, anddriving it before them, passing close to it, so as to brush the wheel, and by other means terrifying any woman or person that may be in it. A man whose turn comes for him to drink, before he has emptied his former glass, is said to be hunted.
Huntsup. The reveillier of huntsmen, sounded on the French horn, or other instrument.
Hurdy gurdy. A kind of fiddle, originally made perhaps out of a gourd. See Humstrum.
Hurly burly. A rout, riot, bustle or confusion.
Hush. Hush the cull; murder the fellow.
Hush money. Money given to hush up or conceal a robbery, theft, or any other offence, or to take off the evidence from appearing against a criminal.
Huskylour. A guinea, or job. Cant.
Hussy. An abbreviation of housewife, but now always used as a term of reproach; as, How now, hussy? or She is a light hussy.
Huzza. Said to have been originally the cry of the huzzars or Hungarian light horse; but now the national shout of the English, both civil and military, in the sea phrase termed a cheer; to give three cheers being to huzza thrice.
Hyp, or Hip. A mode of calling to one passing by. Hip, Michael, your head’s on fire; a piece of vulgar wit to a red haired man.
Hyp. The hypochondriac: low spirits. He is hypped; he has got the blue devils, &c.
Jabber. To talk thick and fast, as great praters usually do, to chatter like a magpye; also to speak a foreign language. He jabbered to me in his damned outlandish parlez vous, but I could not understand him; he chattered to me in French, or some other foreign language, but I could not understand him.
Jack. A farthing, a small bowl serving as the mark for bowlers. An instrument for pulling off boots.
Jack adams. A fool. Jack Adams’s parish; Clerkenwell.
Jack at a pinch. A poor hackney parson.
Jack in a box, A sharper, or cheat. A child in the mother’s womb.
Jack in an office. An insolent fellow in authority.
Jack ketch. The hangman; vide Derrick and Ketch.
Jack nasty face. A sea term, signifying a common sailor.
Jack of legs. A tall long-legged man; also a giant, said to be buried in Weston church, near Baldock, in Hertfordshire, where there are two stones fourteen feet distant, said to be the head and feet stones of his grave. This giant, says Salmon, as fame goes, lived in a wood here, and was a great robber, but a generous one; for he plundered the rich to feed the poor: he frequently took bread for this purpose from the Baldock bakers, who catching him at an advantage, put out his eyes, and afterwards hanged him upon a knoll in Baldock field. At his death he made one request, which was, that he might have his bow and arrow put into his hand, and on shooting it off, where the arrow fell, they would bury him; which being granted, the arrow fell in Weston churchyard. Above seventy years ago, a very large thigh bone was taken out of the church chest, where it had lain many years for a show, and was sold by the clerk to Sir John Tradescant, who, it is said, put it among the rarities of Oxford.
Jack pudding. The merry andrew, zany, or jester to a mountebank.
Jack Robinson. Before one could say Jack Robinson; a saying to express a very short time, originating from a very volatile gentleman of that appellation, who would call on his neighbours, and be gone before his name could be announced.
Jack sprat. A dwarf, or diminutive fellow.
Jack tar. A sailor.
Jack weight. A fat man.
Jack whore. A large masculine overgrown wench.
Jackanapes. An ape; a pert, ugly, little fellow.
Jacked. Spavined. A jacked horse.
Jackmen. See Jarkmen.
Jackey. Gin.
Jacob. A soft fellow. A fool.
Jacob. A ladder: perhaps from Jacob’s dream. Cant. Also the common name for a jay, jays being usually taught to say, Poor Jacob! a cup of sack for Jacob.
Jacobites. Sham or collar shirts. Also partizans for the Stuart family: from the name of the abdicated king, i.e. James or Jacobus. It is said by the whigs, that God changed Jacob’s name to Israel, lest the descendants of that patriarch should be called Jacobites.
Jade. A term of reproach to women.
Jague. A ditch: perhaps from jakes.
Jail birds. Prisoners.
Jakes. A house of office, a cacatorium.
Jammed. Hanged. Cant.
Janizaries. The mob, sometimes so called; also bailiffs, their setters, and followers.
Japanned. Ordained. To be japanned; to enter into holy orders, to become a clergyman, to put on the black cloth: from the colour of the japan ware, which is black.
Jark. A seal.
Jarkmen. Those, who fabricate counterfeit passes, licences, and certificates for beggars.
Jarvis. A hackney coachman.
Jason’s fleece. A citizen cheated of his gold.
Jaw. Speech, discourse. Give us none of your jaw; let us have none of your discourse. A jaw-me-dead; a talkative fellow. Jaw work; a cry used in fairs by the sellers of nuts.
Jazey. A bob wig.
Idea pot. The knowledge box, the head. See Knowledge box.
Jeffy. It will be done in a jeffy; it will be done in a short space of time, in an instant.
Jehu. To drive jehu-like; to drive furiously: from a king of Israel of that name, who was a famous charioteer, and mentioned as such in the Bible.
Jem. A gold ring. Cant.
Jemmy fellow. A smart spruce fellow.
Jemmy. A crow. This instrument is much used by housebreakers. Sometimes called Jemmy Rook.
Jenny. An instrument for lifting up the grate or top of a show-glass, in order to rob it. Cant.
Jerrycummumble. To shake, towzle, or tumble about.
Jerry sneak. A henpecked husband: from a celebrated character in one of Mr. Foote’s plays, representing a man governed by his wife.
Jessamy. A smart jemmy fellow, a fopling.
Jesiut. See To box the jesuit.
Jesuitical. Sly, evasive, equivocal. A jesuitical answer; an equivocal answer.
Jet. A lawyer. Autem jet; a parson.
Jew. An over-reaching dealer, or hard, sharp fellow; an extortioner: the brokers formerly behind St. Clement’s church in the Strand were called Jews by their brethren the taylors.
Jew. A tradesman who has no faith, i.e. will not give credit.
Jew bail. Insufficient bail: commonly Jews, who for a sum of money will bail any action whatsoever, and justify, that is, swear to their sufficiency; but, when called on, are not to be found.
Jew’s eye. That’s worth a Jew’s eye; a pleasant or agreeable sight: a saying taken from Shakespeare.
Jibber the kibber. A method of deceiving seamen, by fixing a candle and lanthorn round the neck of a horse, one of whose fore feet is tied up; this at night has the appearance of a ship’s light. Ships bearing towards it, run on shore, and being wrecked, are plundered by the inhabitants. This diabolical device is, it is said, practised by the inhabitants of our western coasts.
Jig. A trick. A pleasant jig; a witty arch trick. Also a lock or door. The feather-bed jig; copulation.
Jigger. A whipping-post. Cant.
Jilt. A tricking woman, who encourages the addresses of a man whom she means to deceive and abandon.
Jilted. Rejected by a woman who has encouraged one’s advances.
Jingle boxes. Leathern jacks tipped with silver, and hung with bells, formerly in use among fuddle caps. Cant.
Jingle brains. A wild, thoughtless, rattling fellow.
Jinglers. Horse cosers, frequenting country fairs.
Impost takers. Usurers who attend the gaming-tables, and lend money at great premiums.
Impudent stealing. Cutting out the backs of coaches, and robbing the seats.
Impure. A modern term for a lady of easy virtue.
Inching. Encroaching.
Indies. Black Indies; Newcastle.
India wipe. A silk handkerchief.
Indorser. A sodomite. To indorse with a cudgel; to drub or beat a man over the back with a stick, to lay Cane upon Abel.
Inexpressibles. Breeches.
Inkle weavers. Supposed to be a very brotherly set of people; ‘as great as two inkle weavers’ being a proverbial saying.
Inlaid. Well inlaid; in easy circumstances, rich or well to pass.
Innocents. One of the innocents; a weak or simple person, man or woman.
Inside and outside. The inside of a **** and the outside of a gaol.
Job. A guinea.
Job’s comfort. Reproof instead of consolation.
Job’s comforter. One who brings news of some additional misfortune.
Job’s dock. He is laid up in Job’s dock; i.e. in a salivation. The apartments for the foul or venereal patients in St. Bartholomew’s hospital, are called Job’s ward.
Jobation. A reproof.
To job. To reprove or reprehend. Cambridge term.
Job. Any robbery. To do a job; to commit some kind of robbery.
Jock, or Crowdy-headed jock. A jeering appellation for a north country seaman, particularly a collier; Jock being a common name, and crowdy the chief food, of the lower order of the people in Northumberland.
To jock, or Jockum cloy. To enjoy a woman.
Jockum gage. A chamber-pot, jordan, looking-glass, or member-mug. Cant.
Jogg-trot. To keep on a jogg-trot; to get on with a slow but regular pace.
Johnny bum. A he or jack ass: so called by a lady that affected to be extremely polite and modest, who would not say Jack because it was vulgar, nor ass because it was indecent.
Joint. To hit a joint in carving, the operator must think of a cuckold. To put one’s nose out of joint; to rival one in the favour of a patron or mistress.
Jolly, or Jolly nob. The head. I’ll lump your jolly nob for you; I’ll give you a knock on the head.
Jolly dog. A merry facetious fellow; a Bon vivant, who never flinches from his glass, nor cries to go home to bed.
Jolter head. A large head; metaphorically a stupid fellow.
Jordain. A great blow, or staff. I’ll tip him a jordain if I transnear; i.e. I’ll give him a blow with my staff, if I come near him. Cant.
Jordan. A chamber-pot.
Jorum. A jugg, or large pitcher.
Joseph. A woman’s great coat. Also, a sheepish bashful young fellow: an allusion to Joseph who fled from Potiphar’s wife. You are Josephus rex; you are jo-king, i. e. joking.
Joskin. A countryman. The dropcove maced the Joskin of twenty quid; The ring dropper cheated the countryman of twenty guineas.
Jowl. The cheek. Cheek by jowl; close together, or cheek to cheek. My eyes how the cull sucked the blowen’s jowl; he kissed the wench handsomely.
Irish apricots. Potatoes. It is a common joke against the Irish vessels, to say they are loaded with fruit and timber, that is, potatoes and broomsticks.
Irish assurance. A bold forward behaviour: as being dipt in the river Styx was formerly supposed to render persons invulnerable, so it is said that a dipping in the river Shannon totally annihilates bashfulness; whence arises the saying of an impudent Irishman, that he has been dipt in the Shannon.
Irish beauty. A woman with two black eyes.
Irish evidence. A false witness.
Irish legs. Thick legs, jocularly styled the Irish arms. It is said of the Irish women, that they have a dispensation from the pope to wear the thick end of their legs downwards.
Irish toyles. Thieves who carry about pins, laces, and other pedlars wares, and under the pretence of offering their goods to sale, rob houses, or pilfer any thing they can lay hold of.
Iron. Money in general. To polish the king’s iron with one’s eyebrows; to look out of grated or prison windows, or, as the Irishman expresses them, the iron glass windows. Iron doublet; a prison. See Stone doublet.
Ironmonger’s shop. To keep an ironmonger’s shop by the side of a common, where the sheriff sets one up; to be hanged in chains. Iron-bound; laced. An iron-bound hat; a silver-laced hat.
Island. He drank out of the bottle till he saw the island; the island is the rising bottom of a wine bottle, which appears like an island in the centre, before the bottle is quite empty.
Ivories. Teeth. How the swell flashed his ivories; how the gentleman shewed his teeth.
Itchland, or Scratchland. Scotland.
Juggler’s box. The engine for burning culprits in the hand. Cant.
Jukrum. A licence.
Jumblegut lane. A rough road or lane.
Jump. The jump, or dining-room jump; a species of robbery effected by ascending a ladder placed by a sham lamp-lighter, against the house intended to be robbed. It is so called, because, should the lamp-lighter be put to flight, the thief who ascended the ladder has no means of escaping but that of jumping down.
Jumpers. Persons who rob houses by getting in at the windows. Also a set of Methodists established in South Wales.
Juniper lecture. A round scolding bout.
Jury leg. A wooden leg: allusion to a jury mast, which is a temporary substitute for a mast carried away by a storm, or any other accident. Sea phrase.
Jury mast. a journiere mast; i.e. a mast for the day or occasion.
Just-ass. A punning appellation for a justice.
Ivy bush. Like an owl in an ivy bush; a simile for a meagre or weasel-faced man, with a large wig, or very bushy hair.
Kate. A picklock. ’Tis a rum kate; it is a clever picklock. Cant.
Keel bullies. Men employed to load and unload the coal vessels.
Keelhauling. A punishment in use among the Dutch seamen, in which, for certain offences, the delinquent is drawn once, or oftener, under the ship’s keel: ludicrously defined, undergoing a great hard-ship.
To keep. To inhabit. Lord, where do you keep? i.e. where are your rooms? Academical phrase. Mother, your tit won’t keep; your daughter will not preserve her virginity.
To keep it up. To prolong a debauch. We kept it up finely last night; metaphor drawn from the game of shuttle-cock.
Keeping cully. One who keeps a mistress, as he supposes, for his own use, but really for that of the public.
Keffel. A horse. Welsh.
Kelter. Condition, order. Out of kelter; out of order.
Kelter. Money.
Kemp’s morris. William Kemp, said to have been the original Dogberry in Much ado about Nothing, danced a morris from London to Norwich in nine days: of which he printed the account, A. D. 1600, intitled, Kemp’s Nine Days Wonder, &c.
Kemp’s shoes. Would I had Kemp’s shoes to throw after you. Ben jonson. Perhaps Kemp was a man remarkable for his good luck or fortune; throwing an old shoe, or shoes, after any one going on an important business, being by the vulgar deemed lucky.
Ken. A house. A bob ken, or a bowman ken; a well-furnished house, also a house that harbours thieves. Biting the ken; robbing the house. Cant.
Ken miller, or Ken cracker. A housebreaker. Cant.
Kent-street ejectment. To take away the street door: a method practised by the landlords in Kent-street, Southwark, when their tenants are above a fortnight’s rent in arrear.
Kerry security. Bond, pledge, oath, and keep the money.
Ketch. Jack Ketch; a general name for the finishers of the law, or hangmen, ever since the year 1682, when the office was filled by a famous practitioner of that name, of whom his wife said, that any bungler might put a man to death, but only her husband knew how to make a gentleman die sweetly. This officer is mentioned in Butler’s Ghost, page 54, published about the year 1682, in the following lines:
Till Ketch observing he was chous’d,
And in his profits much abus’d.
In open hall the tribute dunn’d,
To do his office, or refund.
Mr. Ketch had not long been elevated to his office, for the name of his predecessor Dun occurs in the former part of this poem, page 29:
For you yourself to act squire Dun,
Such ignominy ne’er saw the sun.
The addition of ‘squire,’ with which Mr. Dun is here dignified, is a mark that he had beheaded some state criminal for high treason; an operation which, according to custom for time out of mind, has always entitled the operator to that distinction. The predecessor of Dun was Gregory Brandon, from whom the gallows was called the Gregorian tree, by which name it is mentioned in the prologue to Mercurius Pragmaticus, tragi-comedy acted at Paris, &c. 1641:
This trembles under the black rod, and he
Doth fear his fate from the Gregorian tree.
Gregory Brandon succeeded Derrick. See Derrick.
Kettledrums. Cupid’s kettle drums; a woman’s breasts, called by sailors chest and bedding.
Kettle of fish. When a person has perplexed his affairs in general, or any particular business, he is said to have made a fine kettle of fish of it.
Kicks. Breeches. A high kick; the top of the fashion. It is all the kick; it is the present mode. Tip us your kicks, we’ll have them as well as your lour; pull off your breeches, for we must have them as well as your money. A kick; sixpence. Two and a kick; half-a-crown. A kick in the guts; a dram of gin, or any other spirituous liquor. A kick up; a disturbance, also a hop or dance. An odd kick in one’s gallop; a strange whim or peculiarity.
To Kick the bucket. To die. He kicked the bucket one day: he died one day. To kick the clouds before the hotel door; i.e. to be hanged.
Kickerapoo. Dead. Negro word.
Kickseys. Breeches.
Kickshaws. French dishes: corruption of quelque chose.
Kid. A little dapper fellow. A child. The blowen has napped the kid. The girl is with child.
To kid. To coax or wheedle. To inveigle. To amuse a man or divert his attention while another robs him. The sneaksman kidded the cove of the ken, while his pall frisked the panney; the thief amused the master of the house, while his companion robbed the house.
Kid lay. Rogues who make it their business to defraud young apprentices, or errand-boys, of goods committed to their charge, by prevailing on them to execute some trifling message, pretending to take care of their parcels till they come back; these are, in cant terms, said to be on the kid lay.
Kidder. A forestaller: see Crocker. Kidders are also persons employed by the gardeners to gather peas.
Kiddeys. Young thieves.
Kiddy nippers. Taylors out of work, who cut off the waistcoat pockets of their brethren, when cross-legged on their board, thereby grabbling their bit. Cant.
Kidnapper. Originally one who stole or decoyed children or apprentices from their parents or masters, to send them to the colonies; called also spiriting: but now used for all recruiting crimps for the king’s troops, or those of the East India company, and agents for indenting servants for the plantations, &c.
Kidney. Disposition, principles, humour. Of a strange kidney; of an odd or unaccountable humour. A man of a different kidney; a man of different principles.
Kilkenny. An old frize coat.
Kill care club. The members of this club, styled also the Sons of Sound Sense and Satisfaction, met at their fortress, the Castle-tavern, in Paternoster-row.
Kill devil. New still-burnt rum.
Kill priest. Port wine.
To Kimbaw. To trick, cheat or cozen; also to beat or to bully. Let’s kimbaw the cull; let’s bully the fellow. To set one’s arms a-kimbaw, vulgarly pronounced a-kimbo, is to rest one’s hands on the hips, keeping the elbows square, and sticking out from the body; an insolent bullying attitude. Cant.
Kinchin. A little child. Kinchin coes; orphan beggar boys, educated in thieving. Kinchin morts; young girls under the like circumstances and training. Kinchin morts, or coes in slates; beggars’ children carried at their mother’s backs in sheets. Kinchin cove; a little man. Cant.
King’s plate. Fetters.
King’s wood lion. An Ass. Kingswood is famous for the great number of asses kept by the colliers who inhabit that place.
King’s bad bargain. One of the king’s bad bargains; a malingeror, or soldier who shirks his duty.
King’s head inn, or Chequer inn, in newgate street. The prison of Newgate.
King john’s men. He is one of king John’s men, eight score to the hundred: a saying of a little undersized man.
King of the gypsies. The captain, chief, or ringleader of the gang of misrule: in the cant language called also the upright man.
King’s pictures. Coin, money.
Kingdom come. He is gone to kingdom come, he is dead.
Kip. The skin of a large calf, in the language of the Excise-office.
Kiss mine a-se. An offer, as Fielding observes, very frequently made, but never, as he could learn, literally accepted. A kiss mine a-se fellow; a sycophant.
Kissing crust. That part where the loaves have touched the oven.
Kit. A dancing-master, so called from his kit or cittern, a small fiddle, which dancing-masters always carry about with them, to play to their scholars. The kit is likewise the whole of a soldier’s necessaries, the contents of his knapsack: and is used also to express the whole of different commodities: as, Here, take the whole kit; i.e. take all.
Kit-cat club. A society of gentlemen, eminent for wit and learning, who in the reign of queen Anne and George I. met at a house kept by one Christopher Cat. The portraits of most of the members of this society were painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller, of one size; thence still called the kit-cat size.
Kitchen physic. Food, good meat roasted or boiled. A little kitchen physic will set him up; he has more need of a cook than a doctor.
Kittle pitchering. A jocular method of hobbling or bothering a troublesome teller of long stories: this is done by contradicting some very immaterial circumstance at the beginning of the narration, the objections to which being settled, others are immediately started to some new particular of like consequence; thus impeding, or rather not suffering him to enter into, the main story. Kittle pitchering is often practised in confederacy, one relieving the other, by which the design is rendered less obvious.
Kittys. Effects, furniture; stock in trade. To seize one’s kittys; to take his sticks.
Knack shop. A toy-shop, a nick-nack-atory.
Knappers poll. A sheep’s head. Cant.
Knave in grain. A knave of the first rate: a phrase borrowed from the dyehouse, where certain colours are said to be in grain, to denote their superiority, as being dyed with cochineal, called grain. Knave in grain is likewise a pun applied to a cornfactor or miller.
Knight of the blade. A bully.
Knight of the post. A false evidence, one that is ready to swear any thing for hire.
Knight of the rainbow. A footman: from the variety of colours in the liveries and trimming of gentlemen of that cloth.
Knight of the road. A highwayman.
Knight of the sheers. A taylor.
Knight of the thimble, or Needle. A taylor or stay-maker.
Knight of the whip. A coachman.
Knight of the trencher. A great eater.
Knight and barrow pig, more hog than gentleman. A saying of any low pretender to precedency.
Knob. The head. See Nob.
Knock. To knock a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her. To knock off; to conclude: phrase borrowed from the blacksmith. To knock under; to submit.
Knock me down. Strong ale or beer, stingo.
Knot. A crew, gang, or fraternity. He has tied a knot with his tongue, that he cannot untie with his teeth: i.e. he is married.
Knowing ones. Sportsmen on the turf, who from experience and an acquaintance with the jockies, are supposed to be in the secret, that is, to know the true merits or powers of each horse; notwithstanding which it often happens that the knowing ones are taken in.
Knowledge box. The head.
Knuckles. Pickpockets who attend the avenues to public places to steal pocket-books, watches, &c. a superior kind of pickpockets. To knuckle to, to submit.
To knuckle one’s wipe. To steal his handkerchief.
Knuckle-dabs, or Knuckle-confounders. Ruffles.
Konoblin rig. Stealing large pieces of coal from coalsheds.
Laced mutton. A prostitute.
Lacing. Beating. I’ll lace your jacket handsomely.
Ladder. To go up the ladder to rest; to be hanged.
Lady. A crooked or hump-backed woman.
Lady of easy virtue. A woman of the town, an impure, a prostitute.
Ladybirds. Light or lewd women.
Lady dacre’s wine. Gin.
Lag. A man transported. The cove was lagged for a drag. The man was transported for stealing something out of a waggon.
Lag fever. A term of ridicule applied to men who being under sentence of transportation, pretend illness, to avoid being sent from gaol to the hulks.
To lag. To drop behind, to keep back. Lag last; the last of a company.
Lage. Water. Cant.
Lage of duds. A buck of linen.
Laid on the shelf, or Laid up in lavender. Pawned.
To Lamb, or Lambaste. To beat. Lamb pye; a beating: from lambo.
Lamb’s wool. Apples roasted and put into strong ale.
Lambskin men. The judges: from their robes lined and bordered with ermine.
Lamp. An eye. The cove has a queer lamp. The man has a blind or squinting eye.
Land. How lies the land? How stands the reckoning? Who has any land in Appleby? a question asked the man at whose door the glass stands long, or who does not ciculate it in due time.
Land lopers, or Land lubbers. Vagabonds lurking about the country who subsist by pilfering.
Land pirates. Highwaymen.
Lank sleeve. The empty sleeve of a one armed man. A fellow with a lank sleeve; a man who has lost an arm.
Lansprisado. One who has only two-pence in his pocket. Also a lance, or deputy corporal; that is, one doing the duty without the pay of a corporal. Formerly a lancier, or horseman, who being dismounted by the death of his horse, served in the foot, by the title of lansprisado, or lancepesato, a broken lance.
Lanthorn-jawed. Thin-visaged: from their cheeksbeing almost transparent. Or else, lenten jawed; i.e. having the jaws of one emaciated by a too rigid observation of Lent. Dark lanthorn; a servant or agent at court, who receives a bribe for his principal or master.
Lap. Butter-milk or whey. Cant.
Lark. A boat.
Lark. A piece of merriment. People playing together jocosely.
Larry dugan’s eye water. Blacking: Larry Dugan was a famous shoe-black at Dublin.
Latch. Let in.
Lathy. Thin, slender. A lathy wench; a girl almost as slender as a lath.
Latitat. A nick-name for an attorney; from the name of a writ.
Lavender. Laid up in lavender; pawned.
Laugh. To laugh on the wrong side of the mouth; to cry. I’ll make him laugh on the wrong (or t’other) side of his mouth.
Launch. The delivery, or labour, of a pregnant woman; a crying out or groaning.
Law. To give law to a hare; a sporting term, signifying to give the animal a chance of escaping, by not setting on the dogs till the hare is at some distance; it is also more figuratively used for giving any one a chance of succeeding in a scheme or project.
Lawful blanket. A wife.
Lay. Enterprize, pursuit, or attempt: to be sick of the lay. It also means a hazard or chance: he stands a queer lay; i.e. he is in danger. Cant.
Laystall. A dunghill about London, on which the soil brought from necessary houses is emptied; or, in more technical terms, where the old gold collected at weddings by the Tom t — d man, is stored.
Lazy. As lazy as Ludman’s dog, who leaned against the wall to bark. As lazy as the tinker, who laid down his budget to f — t.
Lazy man’s load. Lazy people frequently take up more than they can safely carry, to save the trouble of coming a second time.
Lazybones. An instrument like a pair of tongs, for old or very fat people to take any thing from the ground without stooping.
Leaf. To go off with the fall of the leaf; to be hanged: criminals in Dublin being turned off from the outside of the prison by the falling of a board, propped up, and moving on a hinge, like the leaf of a table. Irish term.
To leak. To make water.
Leaky. Apt to blab; one who cannot keep a secret is said to be leaky.
Leaping over the sword. An ancient ceremonial said to constitute a military marriage. A sword being laid down on the ground, the parties to be married joined hands, when the corporal or serjeant of the company repeated these words:
Leap rogue, and jump whore,
And then you are married for evermore.
Whereupon the happy couple jumped hand in hand over the sword, the drum beating a ruffle; and the parties were ever after considered as man and wife.
Least in sight. To play least in sight; to hide, keep out of the way, or make one’s self scarce.
Leather. To lose leather; to be galled with riding on horseback, or, as the Scotch express it, to be saddle sick. To leather also meant to beat, perhaps originally with a strap: I’ll leather you to your heart’s content. Leather-headed; stupid. Leathern conveniency; term used by quakers for a stage-coach.
Leery. On one’s guard. See Peery.
Left-handed wife. A concubine; an allusion to an ancient German custom, according to which, when a man married his concubine, or a woman greatly his inferior, he gave her his left hand.
Leg. To make a leg; to bow. To give leg-bail and land security; to run away. To fight at the leg; to take unfair advantages: it being held unfair by back-sword players to strike at the leg. To break a leg; a woman who has had a bastard, is said to have broken a leg.
Leggers. Sham leggers; cheats who pretend to sell smuggled goods, but in reality only deal in old shop-keepers or damaged goods.
Lenten fare. Spare diet.
Letch. A whim of the amorous kind, out of the common way.
Levite. A priest or parson.
To lib. To lie together. Cant.
Libbege. A bed. Cant.
Libben. A private dwelling-house. Cant.
Libken. A house to lie in. Cant.
To lick. To beat; also to wash, or to paint slightly over. I’ll give you a good lick o’ the chops; I’ll give you a good stroke or blow on the face. Jack tumbled into a cow t — d, and nastied his best clothes, for which his father stept up, and licked him neatly. — I’ll lick you! the dovetail to which is, If you lick me all over, you won’t miss —.
Lickspittle. A parasite, or talebearer.
Lift. To give one a lift; to assist. A good hand at a dead lift; a good hand upon an emergency. To lift one’s hand to one’s head; to drink to excess, or to drink drams. To lift or raise one’s elbow; the same.
Lift. See Shoplifter, &c.
Lig. A bed. See Lib.
Light bob. A soldier of the light infantry company.
Light-fingered. Thievish, apt to pilfer.
Light-heeled. Swift in running. A light-heeled wench; one who is apt, by the flying up of her heels, to fall flat on her back, a willing wench.
Light house. A man with a red fiery nose.
Light troops. Lice; the light troops are in full march; the lice are crawling about.
Lightmans. The day. Cant.
Lightning. Gin. A flash of lightning; a glass of gin.
Likeness. A phrase used by thieves when the officers or turnkeys are examining their countenance. As the traps are taking our likeness; the officers are attentively observing us.
Liliputian. A diminutive man or woman: from Gulliver’s Travels, written by Dean Swift, where an imaginary kingdom of dwarfs of that name is described.
Lily white. A chimney-sweeper.
Lily shallow. (Whip slang) A white driving hat.
Limbs. Duke of limbs; a tall awkward fellow.
Limb of the law. An inferior or pettyfogging attorney.
Limbo. A prison, confinement.
To Line. A term for the act of coition between dog and bitch.
Line of the old author. A dram of brandy.
Line. To get a man into a line, i.e. to divert his attention by a ridiculous or absurd story. To humbug.
Lingo. Language. An outlandish lingo; a foreign tongue. The parlezvous lingo; the French language.
Linen armourers. Taylors.
Lion. To tip the lion; to squeeze the nose of the party tipped, flat to his face with the thumb. To shew the lions and tombs; to point out the particular curiosities of any place, to act the ciceroni: an allusion to Westminster Abbey, and the Tower, where the tombs and lions are shewn. A lion is also a name given by the gownsmen of Oxford to an inhabitant or visitor. It is a standing joke among the city wits to send boys and country folks, on the first of April, to the Tower-ditch, to see the lions washed.
Liquor. To liquor one’s boots; to drink before a journey: among Roman Catholics, to administer the extreme unction.
Little barbary. Wapping.
Little breeches. A familiar appellation used to a little boy.
Little clergyman. A young chimney-sweeper.
Little ease. A small dark cell in Guildhall, London, where disorderly apprentices are confined by the city chamberlain: it is called Little Ease from its being so low that a lad cannot stand upright in it.
Little snakesman. A little boy who gets into a house through the sink-hole, and then opens the door for his accomplices: he is so called, from writhing and twisting like a snake, in order to work himself through the narrow passage.
Live lumber. A term used by sailors, to signify all landsmen on board their ships.
Live stock. Lice or fleas.
Loaf. To be in bad loaf, to be in a disagreeable situation, or in trouble.
Lob. A till in a tradesman’s shop. To frisk a lob; to rob a till. See Flash panney.
Lob. Going on the lob; going into a shop to get change for gold, and secreting some of the change.
Lob’s pound. A prison. Dr. Grey, in his notes on Hudibras, explains it to allude to one Doctor Lob, a dissenting preacher, who used to hold forth when conventicles were prohibited, and had made himself a retreat by means of a trap door at the bottom of his pulpit. Once being pursued by the officers of justice, they followed him through divers subterraneous passages, till they got into a dark cell, from whence they could not find their way out, but calling to some of their companions, swore they had got into Lob’s Pound.
Lobcock. A large relaxed penis: also a dull inanimate fellow.
Lobkin. A house to lie in: also a lodging.
Loblolley boy. A nick name for the surgeon’s servant on board a man of war, sometimes for the surgeon himself: from the water gruel prescribed to the sick, which is called loblolley.
Lobonian society. A society which met at Lob Hall, at the King and Queen, Norton Falgate, by order of Lob the great.
Lobscouse. A dish much eaten at sea, composed of salt beef, biscuit and onions, well peppered, and stewed together.
Lobster. A nick name for a soldier, from the colour of his clothes. To boil one’s lobster, for a churchman to become a soldier: lobsters, which are of a bluish black, being made red by boiling. I will not make a lobster kettle of my ****, a reply frequently made by the nymphs of the Point at Portsmouth, when requested by a soldier to grant him a favour.
Lock. A scheme, a mode. I must fight that lock; I must try that scheme.
Lock. Character. He stood a queer lock; he bore but an indifferent character. A lock is also a buyer of stolen goods, as well as the receptacle for them.
Lock hospital. An hospital for venereal patients.
Lock up house. A spunging house; a public house kept by sheriff’s officers, to which they convey the persons they have arrested, where they practise every species of imposition and extortion with impunity. Also houses kept by agents or crimps, who enlist, or rather trepan, men to serve the East India or African company as soldiers.
Lockeram-jawed. Thin-faced, or lanthorn-jawed. See Lanthorn jawed.
Locksmith’s daughter. A key.
Loggerhead. A blockhead, or stupid fellow. We three loggerheads be: a sentence frequently written under two heads, and the reader by repeating it makes himself the third. A loggerhead is also a double-headed, or bar shot of iron. To go to loggerheads; to fall to fighting.
Loll. Mother’s loll; a favourite child, the mother’s darling,
Loll tongue. He has been playing a game at loll tongue; he has been salivated.
Lollipops. Sweet lozenges purchased by children.
To lollop. To lean with one’s elbows on a table.
Lollpoop. A lazy, idle drone.
Lombard fever. Sick of the lombard fever; i.e. of the idles.
Long one. A hare; a term used by poachers.
Long. Great. A long price; a great price.
Long gallery. Throwing, or rather trundling, the dice the whole length of the board.
Long meg. A jeering name for a very tall woman: from one famous in story, called Long Meg of Westminster.
Long shanks. A long-legged person.
Long stomach. A voracious appetite.
Long tongued. Loquacious, not able to keep a secret. He is as long-tongued as Granny: Granny was an idiot who could lick her own eye. See Granny.
Long-winded. A long-winded parson; one who preached long, tedious sermons. A long-winded paymaster; one who takes long credit.
Loo. For the good of the loo; for the benefit of the company or community.
Looby. An awkward, ignorant fellow.
Looking as if one could not help it. Looking like a simpleton, or as if one could not say boh! to a goose.
Looking-glass. A chamber pot, jordan, or member mug.
Loon, or Lout. A country bumkin, or clown.
Loonslate. Thirteen pence halfpenny.
Loophole. An opening, or means of escape. To find a loophole in an act of parliament; i.e. a method of evading it,
Lop-sided. Uneven, having one side larger or heavier than the other: boys’ paper kites are often said to be lop-sided.
To lope. To leap, to run away. He loped down the dancers; he ran down stairs.
Lord. A crooked or hump-backed man. These unhappy people afford great scope for vulgar raillery; such as, ‘Did you come straight from home? if so, you have got confoundedly bent by the way.’ ‘Don’t abuse the gemman,’ adds a by-stander, ‘he has been grossly insulted already; don’t you see his back’s up?’ Or someone asks him if the show is behind; ‘because I see,’ adds he, ‘you have the drum at your back.’ Another piece of vulgar wit is let loose on a deformed person: If met by a party of soldiers on their march, one of them observes that that gentleman is on his march too, for he has got his knapsack at his back. It is said in the British Apollo, that the title of lord was first given to deformed persons in the reign of Richard Iii. from several persons labouring under that misfortune being created peers by him; but it is more probably derived from the Greek word [Greek: lordos], crooked.
Louse. A gentleman’s companion. He will never louse a grey head of his own; he will never live to be old.
Love begotten child. A bastard.
Lounge. A loitering place, or gossiping shop.
Louse bag. A black bag worn to the hair or wig.
Louse house. The round house, cage, or any other place of confinement.
Louse ladder. A stitch fallen in a stocking.
Louse land. Scotland.
Louse trap. A small toothed comb.
Lout. A clumsy stupid fellow.
Lowing rig. Stealing oxen or cows.
Low pad. A footpad.
Low tide, or Low water. When there is no money in a man’s pocket.
Lowre. Money. Cant.
Lubber. An awkward fellow: a name given by sailors to landsmen.
Luck, or Good luck. To tread in a surreverence, to be bewrayed: an allusion to the proverb, Sh-tt-n luck is good luck.
Lud’s bulwark. Ludgate prison.
Lugs. Ears or wattles. See Wattles.
Lullaby cheat. An infant. Cant.
Lullies. Wet linen. Cant.
Lully triggers. Thieves who steal wet linen. Cant.
Lumb. Too much.
Lumber. Live lumber; soldiers or passengers on board a ship are so called by the sailors.
Lumber troop. A club or society of citizens of London.
Lumber house. A house appropriated by thieves for the reception of their stolen property.
To Lump. To beat; also to include a number of articles under one head.
To Lump the lighter. To be transported.
Lumpers. Persons who contract to unload ships; also thieves who lurk about wharfs to pilfer goods from ships, lighters, &c.
Lumping. Great. A lumping penny worth; a great quantity for the money, a bargain. He has’got a lumping penny-worth; frequently said of a man who marries a fat woman.
Lun. Harlequin.
Lurch. To be left in the lurch; to be abandoned by one’s confederates or party, to be left in a scrape.
Lurched. Those who lose a game of whist, without scoring five, are said to be lurched.
Lurcher. A lurcher of the law; a bum bailiff, or his setter.
Lurries. Money, watches, rings, or other moveablcs.
Lush. Strong beer.
To lush. To drink.
Lushey. Drunk. The rolling kiddeys hud a spree, and got bloody lushey; the dashing lads went on a party of pleasure, and got very drunk.
Lye. Chamber lye; urine.
Maccaroni. An Italian paste made of flour and eggs. Also a fop: which name arose from a club, called the Maccaroni Club, instituted by some of the most dressy travelled gentlemen about town, who led the fashions; whence a man foppishly dressed, was supposed a member of that club, and by contraction styled a Maccaroni.
Mace cove. A swindler, a sharper, a cheat. On the mace; to live by swindling.
Machines. Mrs. Phillips’s ware. See Cundum.
Mackerel. A bawd: from the French maquerel. Mackerel-backed; long-backed.
Mad tom, or Tom of bedlam, otherwise an Abram Man. A rogue that counterfeits madness. Cant.
Madam. A kept madam; a kept mistress.
Madam ran. A whore. Cant.
Made. Stolen. Cant.
Madge. The private parts of a woman.
Madge culls. Sodomites. Cant.
Magnum bonum. A bottle containing two quarts of wine. See Scotch pint.
Mahometan gruel. Coffee: because formerly used chiefly by the Turks.
Maiden sessions. A sessions where none of the prisoners are capitally convicted.
Make. A halfpenny. Cant.
Make weight. A small candle: a term applied to a little slender man.
Malingeror. A military term for one who, under pretence of sickness, evades his duty.
Malkin, or Maulkin. A general name for a cat; also a parcel of rags fastened to the end of a stick, to clean an oven; also a figure set up in a garden to scare the birds; likewise an awkward woman. The cove’s so scaly, he’d spice a malkin of his jazey: the fellow is so mean, that he would rob a scare-crow of his old wig.
Malkintrash. One in a dismal garb.
Malmsey nose. A red pimpled snout, rich in carbuncles and rubies.
Man of the town. A rake, a debauchee.
Man of the turf. A horse racer, or jockey.
Manoeuvring the apostles. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, i.e. borrowing of one man to pay another.
Man trap. A woman’s commodity.
Man of the world. A knowing man.
Man, (Cambridge.) Any undergraduate from fifteen to thirty. As a man of Emanuel — a young member of Emanuel.
Manufacture. Liquors prepared from materials of English growth.
Mare’s nest. He has found a mare’s nest, and is laughing at the eggs; said of one who laughs without any apparent cause.
Margery prater. A hen. Cant.
Marine officer. An empty bottle: marine officers being held useless by the seamen. Sea wit.
Marplot. A spoil sport.
Marriage music. The squalling and crying of children.
Married. Persons chained or handcuffed together, in order to be conveyed to gaol, or on board the lighters for transportation, are in the cant language said to be married together.
Marrowbones. The knees. To bring any one down on his marrow bones; to make him beg pardon on his knees: some derive this from Mary’s bones, i.e. the bones bent in honour of the Virgin Mary; but this seems rather far-fetched. Marrow bones and cleavers; principal instruments in the band of rough music: these are generally performed on by butchers, on marriages, elections, riding skimmington, and other public or joyous occasions.
Martinet. A military term for a strict disciplinarian: from the name of a French general, famous for restoring military discipline to the French army. He first disciplined the French infantry, and regulated their method of encampment: he was killed at the siege of Doesbourg in the year 1672.
Mason’s maund. A sham sore above the elbow, to counterfeit a broken arm by a fall from a scaffold.
Master of the mint. A gardener.
Master of the rolls. A baker.
Master of the wardrobe. One who pawns his clothes to purchase liquor.
Matrimonial peace-maker. The sugar-stick, or arbor vitae.
Maudlin drunk. Crying drunk: perhaps from Mary Magdalene, called Maudlin, who is always painted in tears.
Mauled. Extremely drunk, or soundly beaten.
Maundering broth. Scolding.
Maunding. Asking or begging. Cant.
Mawkes. A vulgar slattern.
Mawley. A hand. Tip us your mawley; shake hands. with me. Fam the mawley; shake hands.
Maw-wallop. A filthy composition, sufficient to provoke vomiting.
Max. Gin.
May bees. May bees don’t fly all the year long; an answer to any one who prefaces a proposition with, It may be.
Mealy-mouthed. Over-modest or backward in speech.
Medlar. A fruit, vulgarly called an open a-se; of which it is more truly than delicately said, that it is never ripe till it is as rotten as a t — d, and then it is not worth a f — t.
Mellow. Almost drunk.
Melting moments. A fat man and woman in the amorous congress.
To melt. To spend. Will you melt a borde? will you spend a shilling? The cull melted a couple of decusses upon us; the gentleman spent a couple of crowns upon us. Cant.
Member mug. A chamber pot.
Men of straw. Hired bail, so called from having straw stuck in their shoes to distinguish them.
Men of kent. Men born east of the river Medway, who are said to have met the Conqueror in a body, each carrying a green bough in his hand, the whole appearing like a moving wood; and thereby obtaining a confirmation of their ancient privileges. The inhabitants of Kent are divided into Kentish men and men of Kent. Also a society held at the Fountain Tavern, Bartholomew Lane, A.D. 1743.
Merkin. Counterfeit hair for women’s privy parts. See Bailey’s dict.
Merry andrew, or Mr. merryman. The jack pudding, jester, or zany of a mountebank, usually dressed in a party-coloured coat.
Merry a-se christian. A whore.
Merry-begotten. A bastard.
Man of the world. A knowing man.
Mess john. A Scotch presbyterian teacher or parson.
Messmate. One who eats at the same mess, companion or comrade.
Mettle. The semen. To fetch mettle; the act of self pollution. Mettle is also figuratively used for courage.
Mettlesome. Bold, courageous.
Michael. Hip, Michael, your head’s on fire. See Hyp.
Midshipman’s watch and chain. A sheep’s heart and pluck.
Milch cow. One who is easily tricked out of his property; a term used by gaolers, for prisoners who have money and bleed freely.
Milk and water. Both ends of the busk.
To milk the pigeon. To endeavour at impossibilities.
Milling cove. A boxer. How the milling cove served the cull out; how the boxer beat the fellow.
Mill. A chisel.
To Mill. To rob; also to break, beat out, or kill. I’ll mill your glaze; I’ll beat out your eye. To mill a bleating cheat; to kill a sheep. To mill a ken; to rob a house. To mill doll; to beat hemp in bridewell. Cant.
Mill lay. To force open the doors of houses in order to rob them.
Miller. A murderer.
Mine a-se on a bandbox. An answer to the offer of any thing inadequate to the purpose for which it is wanted, just as a bandbox would be if used for a seat.
Mine uncle’s. A pawnbroker’s shop; also a necessary house. Carried to my uncle’s; pawned. New-married men are also said to go to their uncle’s, when they leave their wives soon after the honey moon.
Minikin. A little man or woman: also the smallest sort of pin.
Minor clergy. Young chimney sweepers.
Mint. Gold. A mint of money; common phrase for a large sum.
Mischief. A man loaded with mischief, i.e. a man with his wife on his back.
Mish. A shirt, smock, or sheet. Cant.
Mish topper. A coat, or petticoat.
Miss. A miss or kept mistress; a harlot.
Miss laycock. The monosyllable.
Mite. A nick name for a cheesemonger: from the small insect of that name found in cheese.
Mix metal. A silversmith.
Mob; or Mab. A wench, or harlot.
Mobility. The mob: a sort of opposite to nobility.
Mohair. A man in the civil line, a townsman, or tradesman: a military term, from the mohair buttons worn by persons of those descriptions, or any others not in the army, the buttons of military men being always of metal: this is generally used as a term of contempt, meaning a bourgeois, tradesman, or mechanic.
Moiety. Half, but vulgarly used to signify a share or portion: as, He will come in for a small moiety.
Moll. A whore.
Moll peatly’s gig. A rogering bout.
Moll thompson’s mark. M. T. i.e. empty: as, Take away this bottle, it has Moll Thompson’s mark upon it.
Molly. A Miss Molly; an effeminate fellow, a sodomite.
Monday. Saint Monday. See Saint.
Money. A girl’s private parts, commonly applied to little children: as, Take care, Miss, or you will shew your money.
Money droppers. Cheats who drop money, which they pretend to find just before some country lad; and by way of giving him a share of their good luck, entice him into a public house, where they and their confederates cheat or rob him of what money he has about him.
Mongrel. A hanger on among cheats, a spunger; also a child whose father and mother are of different countries.
Monks and friars. Terms used by printers: monks are sheets where the letters are blotted, or printed too black; friars, those letters where the ink has failed touching the type, which are therefore white or faint.
Monkey. To suck the monkey; to suck or draw wine, or any other liquor, privately out of a cask, by means of a straw, or small tube. Monkey’s allowance; more kicks than halfpence. Who put that monkey on horseback without tying his legs? vulgar wit on a bad horseman.
Monosyllable. A woman’s commodity.
Mooncurser. A link-boy: link-boys are said to curse the moon, because it renders their assistance unnecessary; these gentry frequently, under colour of lighting passengers over kennels, or through dark passages, assist in robbing them. Cant.
Moon-eyed hen. A squinting wench.
Moon men. Gypsies.
Moon rakers. Wiltshire men: because it is said that some men of that county, seeing the reflection of the moon in a pond, endeavoured to pull it out with a rake.
Moonshine. A matter or mouthful of moonshine; a trifle, nothing. The white brandy smuggled on the coasts of Kent and Sussex, and the gin in the north of Yorkshire, are also called moonshine.
Mop. A kind of annual fair in the west of England, where farmers usually hire their servants.
To Mop up. To drink up. To empty a glass or pot.
Moped. Stupid, melancholy for want of society.
Mopsey. A dowdy, or homely woman.
Mopsqueezer. A maid servant, particularly a housemaid.
Mopusses. Money.
Morglag. A brown bill, or kind of halbert, formerly carried by watchmen; corruption of More, great or broad, and Glave, blade.
Morning drop. The gallows. He napped the king’s pardon and escaped the morning drop; he was pardoned, and was not hanged.
Morris. Come, morris off; dance off, or get you gone. allusion to morris, i.e. Morisco, or Moorish dancing.
Mort. A woman or wench; also a yeoman’s daughter. To be taken all-a mort; to be confounded, surprised, or motionless through fear.
Moses. To stand Moses: a man is said to stand Moses when he has another man’s bastard child fathered upon him, and he is obliged by the parish to maintain it.
Moss. A cant term for lead, because both are found on the tops of buildings.
Mossy face. The mother of all saints.
Mot. A girl, or wench. See Mort.
Mother, or The mother. A bawd. Mother abbess: the same. Mother midnight; a midwife. Mother in law’s bit; a small piece, mothers in law being supposed not apt to overload the stomachs of their husband’s children.
Mother of all saints. The Monosyllable.
Mother of all souls. The same. Irish.
Mother of st. patrick. The same. Irish.
Mother of the maids. A bawd.
Mouchets. Small patches worn by ladies: from the French word mouches.
Moveables. Rings, watches, or any toys of value.
Mouse. To speak like a mouse in a cheese; i.e. faintly or indistinctly.
Mousetrap. The parson’s mousetrap; the state of matrimony.
Mouth. A noisy fellow. Mouth half cocked; one gaping and staring at every thing he sees. To make any one laugh on the wrong, or t’other side of his mouth; to make him cry or grieve.
Mouth. A silly fellow. A dupe. To stand mouth; i.e. to be duped.
To Mow. A Scotch word for the act of copulation.
Mow heater. A drover: from their frequent sleeping on hay mows. Cant.
Mower. A cow.
Muckworm. A miser.
Muckinder. A child’s handkerchief tied to the side.
Mud. A fool, or thick-sculled fellow; also, among printers the same as dung among journeymen taylors. See Dung.
Mud lark. A fellow who goes about by the water side picking up coals, nails, or other articles in the mud. Also a duck.
Muff. The private parts of a woman. To the well wearing of your muff, mort; to the happy consummation of your marriage, girl; a health.
Muffling cheat. A napkin.
Muggletonians. The sect or disciples of Lodowick Muggleton.
Mulligrubs. Sick of the mulligrubs with eating chopped hay: low-spirited, having an imaginary sickness.
Mum. An interjection directing silence. Mum for that; I shall be silent as to that. As mute as Mumchance, who was hanged for saying nothing; a friendly reproach to any one who seems low-spirited and silent.
Mumchance. An ancient game like hazard, played with dice: probably so named from the silence observed in playing at it.
Mum glass. The monument erected on Fish-street Hill, London, in memory of the great fire in 1666.
Mumble a sparrow. A cruel sport practised at wakes and fairs, in the following manner: A cock sparrow whose wings are clipped, is put into the crown of a hat; a man having his arms tied behind him, attempts to bite off the sparrow’s head, but is generally obliged to desist, by the many pecks and pinches he receives from the enraged bird.
Mummer. The mouth.
Mumpers. Originally beggars of the genteel kind, but since used for beggars in general.
Mumpers hall. An alehouse where beggars are harboured.
Mundungus. Bad or rank tobacco: from mondongo, a Spanish word signifying tripes, or the uncleaned entrails of a beast, full of filth.
Mung. To beg.
Muns. The face, or rather the mouth: from the German word Mund, the mouth. Toute his muns; look at his face.
Munster plums. Potatoes. Irish.
Munster heifer. An Irish woman. A woman with thick legs is said to be like a Munster heifer; i.e. beef to the heels.
Murder. He looked like God’s revenge against murder; he looked angrily.
Murphies. Potatoes.
Mushroom. A person or family suddenly raised to riches and eminence: an allusion to that fungus, which starts up in a night.
Music. The watch-word among highwaymen, signifying the person is a friend, and must pass unmolested. Music is also an Irish term, in tossing up, to express the harp side, or reverse, of a farthing or halfpenny, opposed to the head.
Mute. An undertaker’s servant, who stands at the door of a person lying in state: so named from being supposed mute with grief.
Mutton-headed. Stupid.
Mutton monger. A man addicted to wenching.
Mutton. In her mutton, i.e. having carnal knowledge of a woman.
Muzzle. A beard.
Muzzler. A violent blow on the mouth. The milling cove tipped the cull a muzzler; the boxer gave the fellow a blow on the mouth.
Mynt. See Mint.
Myrmidons. The constable’s assistants, watchmen, &c.
Nab, or Nab cheat. A hat. Penthouse nab; a large hat.
To Nab. To seize, or catch unawares. To nab the teaze; to be privately whipped. To nab the stoop; to stand in the pillory. To nab the rust; a jockey term for a horse that becomes restive. To nab the snow: to steal linen left out to bleach or dry. Cant.
To Nab girder, or Nob girder. A bridle.
Nack. To have a nack; to be ready at any thing, to have a turn-for it.
Nacky. Ingenious.
Nailed. Secured, fixed. He offered me a decus, and I nailed him; he offered me a crown, and I struck or fixed him.
Nanny house. A brothel.
To nap. To cheat at dice by securing one chance. Also to catch the venereal disease. You’ve napt it; you are infected.
Napping. To take any one napping; i.e. to come upon him unexpectedly, to find him asleep: as, He caught him napping, as Morse caught his mare.
Napper. The head; also a cheat or thief.
Napper of naps. A sheep stealer. Cant.
Nappy ale. Strong ale.
Nask, or Naskin. A prison or bridewell. The new nask; Clerkenwell bridewell. Tothil-fields nask; the bridewell at Tothil-fields. Cant.
Nation. An abbreviation of damnation: a vulgar term used in Kent, Sussex, and the adjacent counties, for very. Nation good; very good. A nation long way; a very long way.
Natty lads. Young thieves or pickpockets. Cant.
Natural. A mistress, a child; also an idiot. A natural son or daughter; a love or merry-begotten child, a bastard.
Navy office. The Fleet prison. Commander of the Fleet; the warden of the Fleet prison.
Nay word. A bye-word, proverb.
Nazakene foretop. The foretop of a wig made in imitation of Christ’s head of hair, as represented by the painters and sculptors.
Nazy. Drunken. Nazy cove or mort; a drunken rogue or harlot. Nazy nabs; drunken coxcombs.
Neb, or Nib. The bill of a bird, and the slit of a pen. Figuratively, the face and mouth of a woman; as, She holds up her neb: she holds up her mouth to be kissed.
Neck stamper. The boy who collects the pots belonging to an alehouse, sent out with beer to private houses.
Neck verse. Formerly the persons claiming the benefit of clergy were obliged to read a verse in a Latin manuscript psalter: this saving them from the gallows, was termed their neck verse: it was the first verse of the fiftyfirst psalm, Miserere mei,&c.
Neck weed. Hemp.
Needle point. A sharper.
Negligee. A woman’s undressed gown, Vulgarly termed a neggledigee.
Negroe. A black-a-moor: figuratively used for a slave. I’ll be no man’s negro; I will be no man’s slave.
Negroe’s heads. Brown leaves delivered to the ships in ordinary.
Nescio. He sports a Nescio; he pretends not to understand any thing. After the senate house examination for degrees, the students proceed to the schools, to be questioned by the proctor. According to custom immemorial the answers Must be Nescio. The following is a translated specimen:
Ques. What is your name? — Ans. I do not know.
Ques. What is the name of this university? — Ans. I do not
know.
Ques. Who was your father?-Ans. I do not know.
This last is probably the only true answer of the three!
Nettled. Teized, provoked, out of temper. He or she has pissed on a nettle; said of one who is peevish or out of temper.
New college students. Golden scholars, silver bachelors, and leaden masters.
New drop. The scaffold used at Newgate for hanging of criminals; which dropping down, leaves them suspended. By this improvement, the use of that vulgar vehicle, a cart, is entirely left off.
New light. One of the new light; a methodist.
Newgate bird. A thief or sharper, frequently caged in Newgate.
Newgate solicitor. A petty fogging and roguish attorney, who attends the gaols to assist villains in evading justice.
Newman’s lift. The gallows.
Newman’s tea gardens. Newgate.
Newman’s hotel. Newgate.
To Nick. To win at dice, to hit the mark just in the nick of time, or at the critical moment.
Nick. Old nick; the Devil.
Nickname. A name given in ridicule or contempt: from the French nom de niqne. Niqne is a movement of the head to mark a contempt for any person or thing.
Nick ninny. A simpleton.
Nickin, nikey or Nizey. A soft simple fellow; also a diminutive of Isaac.
Nicknacks. Toys, baubles, or curiosities.
NlCKNackATory. A toyshop.
Nickumpoop, or Nincumpoop. A foolish fellow; also one who never saw his wife’s ****.
Niffynaffy fellow. A trifler.
Nig. The clippings of money. Nigging; clipping. Nigler, a clipper. Cant.
Niggling. Cutting awkwardly, trifling; also accompanying with a woman.
Night magistrate. A constable.
Nightingale. A soldier who, as the term is, sings out at the halberts. It is a point of honour in some regiments, among the grenadiers, never to cry out, become nightingales, whilst under the discipline of the cat of nine tails; to avoid which, they chew a bullet.
Nightman. One whose business it is to empty necessary houses in London, which is always done in the night; the operation is called a wedding. See Wedding.
Nigmenog. A very silly fellow.
To nim. To steal or pilfer: from the German nemen, to take. Nim a togeman; steal a cloak.
Nimgimmer. A physician or surgeon, particularly those who cure the venereal disease.
Nine lives. Cats are said to have nine lives, and women ten cats lives.
Ninny, or Ninnyhammer. A simpleton.
Nip. A cheat. Bung nipper; a cutpurse.
Nip cheese. A nick name for the purser of a ship: from those gentlemen being supposed sometimes to nip, or diminish, the allowance of the seamen, in that and every other article. It is also applied to stingy persons in general.
Nipperkin. A small measure.
Nipps. The sheers used in clipping money.
Nit squeeger, i.e. Squeezer. A hair-dresser.
Nix. Nothing.
No catchy no havy. If I am not caught, I cannot be hurt. Negro saying.
Nob. A king. A man of rank.
Nob. The head.
Nock. The breech; from Nock, a notch.
Nocky boy. A dull simple fellow.
Nod. He is gone to the land of nod; he is asleep.
Noddle. The head.
Noddy. A simpleton or fool. Also a kind of low cart, with a seat before it for the driver, used in and about Dublin, in the manner of a hackney coach: the fare is just half that of a coach, for the same distance; so that for sixpence one may have a set down, as it is called, of a mile and half, and frequently a tumble down into the bargain: it is called a noddy from the nutation of its head. Knave noddy; the old-fashioned name for the knave of trumps.
Noisy dog racket. Stealing brass knockers from doors.
Nokes. A ninny, or fool. John-a-Nokes and Tom-a-Stiles; two honest peaceable gentlemen, repeatedly set together by the ears by lawyers of different denominations: two fictitious names formerly used in law proceedings, but now very seldom, having for several years past been supplanted by two other honest peaceable gentlemen, namely, John Doe and Richard Roe.
Noll. Old Noll; Oliver Cromwell.
Non-con. A nonconformist, presbyterian, or any other dissenter.
None-such. One that is unequalled: frequently applied ironically.
Nonsense. Melting butter in a wig.
Noozed. Married, hanged.
Nope. A blow: as, I took him a nope on the costard.
Norfolk capon. A red herring.
Norfolk dumpling. A nick name, or term of jocular reproach to a Norfolk man; dumplings being a favourite food in that county.
North allertons. Spurs; that place, like Rippon, being famous for making them.
Northumberland. Lord Northumberland’s arms; a black eye: so called in the last century.
Norway neckcloth. The pillory, usually made of Norway fir.
Nose. As plain as the nose on your face; evidently to be seen. He is led by the nose; he is governed. To follow one’s nose; to go strait forward. To put one’s nose out of joint; to rival one in the favour of any person. To make a bridge of any one’s nose; to pass by him in drinking. To nose a stink; to smell it. He cut off his nose to be revenged of his face; said of one who, to be revenged on his neighbour, has materially injured himself.
Nose. A man who informs or turns king’s evidence.
To nose. To give evidence. To inform. His pall nosed and he was twisted for a crack; his confederate turned king’s evidence, and he was hanged for burglary.
To nose. To bully.
Nose bag. A bag fastened to the horse’s head, in which the soldiers of the cavalry put the oats given to their horses: whence the saying, I see the hose bag in his face; i.e. he has been a private man, or rode private.
Nose gent. A nun.
Nostrum. A medicine prepared by particular persons only, a quack medicine.
Notch. The private parts of awoman.
Note. He changed his note; he told another sort of a story.
Nous-box. The head.
Nozzle. The nose of a man or woman.
Nub. The neck; also coition.
Nubbing. Hanging. Nubbing cheat: the gallows. Nubbing cove; the hangman. Nubbing ken; the sessions house.
Nug. An endearing word: as, My dear nug; my dear love.
Nugging dress. An out-of-the-way old-fashioned dress, or rather a loose kind of dress, denoting a courtesan.
Nugging-house. A brothel.
To null. To beat: as, He nulled him heartily.
Numbers. To consult the book of numbers: a term used in the House of Commons, when, instead of answering or confuting a pressing argument, the minister calls for a division, i.e. puts the matter to the vote.
Numbscull. A stupid fellow.
Numms. A sham collar, to be worn over a dirty shirt.
Nunnery. A bawdy house.
To nurse. To cheat: as, they nursed him out of it. An estate in the hands of trustees, for the payment of bdebts, is said to be at nurse.
Nuts. It was nuts for them; i.e. it was very agreeable to them.
Nuts. Fond; pleased. She’s nuts upon her cull; she’s pleased with her cully. The cove’s nutting the blowen; the man is trying to please the girl.
Nutcrackers. The pillory: as, The cull peeped through the nutcrackers.
Nutmegs. Testicles.
Nyp, or Nip. A half pint, a nip of ale: whence the nipperkin, a small vessel.
Nyp shop. The Peacock in Gray’s Inn Lane, where Burton ale is sold in nyps.
Nypper. A cut-purse: so called by one Wotton, who in the year 1585 kept an academy for the education and perfection of pickpockets and cut-purses: his school was near Billingsgate, London. As in the dress of ancient times many people wore their purses at their girdles, cutting them was a branch of the light-fingered art, which is now lost, though the name remains. Maitland, from Stow, gives the following account of this Wotton: This man was a gentleman born, and sometime a merchant of good credit, but fallen by time into decay: he kept an alehouse near Smart’s Key, near Billingsgate, afterwards for some misdemeanor put down. He reared up a new trade of life, and in the same house he procured all the cut-purses about the city, to repair to his house; there was a school-house set up to learn young boys to cut purses: two devices were hung up; one was a pocket, and another was a purse; the pocket had in it certain counters, and was hung about with hawks bells, and over the top did hang a little sacring bell. The purse had silver in it; and he that could take out a counter, without noise of any of the bells, was adjudged a judicial Nypper: according to their terms of art, a Foyster was a pick-pocket; a Nypper was a pick purse, or cut-purse.
O be joyful. I’ll make you sing O be joyful on the other side of your mouth; a threat, implying the party threatened will be made to cry. To sing O be easy; to appear contented when one has cause to complain, and dare not.
Oaf. A silly fellow.
Oafish. Simple.
Oak. A rich maa, a man of good substance and credit. To sport oak; to shut the outward door of a student’s room at college. An oaken towel; an oaken cudgel. To rub a man down with an oaken towel; to beat him.
Oats. He has sowed his wild oats; he is staid, or sober, having left off his wild tricks.
Oaths. The favourite oaths of the thieves of the present day are, “God strike me blind!” “I wish my bloody eyes may drop out if it is not true!” “So help me God!” “Bloody end to me!”
Oar. To put in one’s oar; to intermeddle, or give an opinion unasked: as, To be sure, you must put in your oar!
Obstropulous. Vulgar misnomer of Obstreperous: as, I was going my rounds, and found this here gemman very obstropulous, whereof I comprehended him as an auspicious parson.
Occupy. To occupy a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her.
Oddfellows. A convivial society; the introduction to the most noble grand, arrayed in royal robes, is well worth seeing at the price of becoming a member.
Odds plut and her nails. A Welch oath, frequently mentioned in a jocular manner by persons, it is hoped, ignorant of its meaning; which is, By God’s blood, and the nails with which he was nailed to the cross.
Odd-come-shortlys. I’ll do it one of these odd-come-shortly’s; I will do it some time or another.
Office. To give the office; to give information, or make signs to the officers to take a thief.
Ogles. Eyes. Rum ogles; fine eyes.
Oil of barley, or Barley broth. Strong beer.
Oil of gladness. I will anoint you with the oil of gladness; ironically spoken for, I will beat you.
Oil of stirrup. A dose the cobler gives his wife whenever she is obstropulous.
Oi poaaoi (Proofreaders Note: Greek Letters). (Cambridge.) The many; the multitude; who take degrees without being entitled for an honor. All that is Required, are three books of Euclid, and as far as Quadratic Equation’s in Algebra. See Plucked.
Old. Ugly. Cant.
Old dog at it. Expert, accustomed.
Old hand. Knowing or expert in any business.
Old harry. A composition used by vintners to adulterate their wines; also the nick-name for the devil.
Old ding. See Old hat.
Old mr. gory. A piece of gold.
Old nick. The Devil: from Neken, the evil spirit of the north.
Old one. The Devil. Likewise an expression of quizzical familiarity, as “how d’ye do, Old one?”
Old pegg. Poor Yorkshire cheese, made of skimmed milk.
Old poger. The Devil.
Old stager. One accustomed to business, one who knows mankind.
Old toast. A brisk old fellow. Cant.
Old doss. Bridewell.
Oliver’s scull. A chamber pot.
Olli compolli. The name of one of the principal rogues of the canting crew. Cant.
Omnium gatherum. The whole together: jocular imitation of law Latin.
One in ten. A parson: an allusion to his tithes.
One of us, or One of my cousins. A woman of the town, a harlot.
Onion. A seal. Onion hunters, a class of young thieves who are on the look out for gentlemen who wear their seals suspended on a ribbon, which they cut, and thus secure the seals or other trinkets suspended to the watch.
Open arse. A medlar. See Medlar.
Optime. The senior and junior optimes are the second and last classes of Cambridge honors conferred on taking a degree. That of wranglers is the first. The last junior optime is called the Wooden Spoon.
Organ. A pipe. Will you cock your organ? will you smoke your pipe?
Orthodoxy and heterodoxy. Somebody explained these terms by saying, the first was a man who had a doxy of his own, the second a person who made use of the doxy of another man.
Oschives. Bone-handled knives. Cant.
Ostler. Oatstealer.
Ottomy. The vulgar word for a skeleton.
Ottomised. To be ottomised; to be dissected. You’ll be scragged, ottomised, and grin in a glass case: you’ll be hanged, anatomised, and your skeleton kept in a glass case at Surgeons’ Hall.
Oven. A great mouth; the old woman would never have looked for her daughter in the oven, had she not been there herself.
Overseer. A man standing in the pillory, is, from his elevated situation, said to be made an overseer.
Out at heels, or out at elbows. In declining circumstances.
Outrun the constable. A man who has lived above his means, or income, is said to have outrun the constable.
Outs. A gentleman of three outs. See Gentleman.
Owl. To catch the; a trick practised upon ignorant country boobies, who are decoyed into a barn under pretence of catching an owl, where, after divers preliminaries, the joke ends in their having a pail of water poured upon their heads.
Owl in an ivy bush. He looks like an owl in an ivy bush; frequently said of a person with a large frizzled wig, or a woman whose hair is dressed a-la-blowze.
Owlers. Those who smuggle wool over to France.
Ox house. He must go through the ox house to bed; a saying of an old fellow who marries a young girl.
Oyes. Corruption of oyez, proclaimed by the crier of all courts of justice.
Oyster. A gob of thick phlegm, spit by a consumptive man; in law Latin, Unum viridum gobbum
P’s. To mind one’s P’s and Q’s; to be attentive to the main chance.
P.P.C. An inscription on the visiting cards of our modern fine gentleman, signifying that they have called Pour Prendre conge, i.e. ‘to take leave,’ This has of late been ridiculed by cards inscribed D.I.O. i.e. ‘Damme, I’m off.’
Packet. A false report.
Packthread. To talk packthread; to use indecent language well wrapt up.
Pad. The highway, or a robber thereon; also a bed. Footpads; foot robbers. To go out upon the pad; to go out in order to commit a robbery.
Pad borrowers. Horse stealers.
To pad the hoof. See To Beat the hoof.
Paddington fair day. An execution day, Tyburn being in the parish or neighbourhood of Paddington. To dance the Paddington frisk; to be hanged.
Paddy. The general name for an Irishman: being the abbreviation of Patrick, the name of the tutelar saint of that island.
Painter. I’ll cut your painter for you; I’ll send you off; the painter being the ropfe that holds the boat fast to the ship. Sea term.
Pair of wings. Oars. Cant.
To palaver. To flatter: originally an African word for a treaty, talk, or conference.
Palliards. Those whose fathers were clapperdogens, or beggars born, and who themselves follow the same trade: the female sort beg with a number of children, borrowing them, if they have not a sufficient number of their own, and making them cry by pinching in order to excite charity; the males make artificial sores on different parts of their bodies, to move compassion.
Pall. A companion. One who generally accompanies another, or who commit robberies together.
Pam. The knave of clubs.
Pannam. Bread.
Pannier man. A servant belonging to the Temple and Gray’s Inn, whose office is to announce the dinner. This in the Temple, is done by blowing a horn; and in Gray’s Inn proclaiming the word Manger, Manger, Manger, in each of the three courts.
Panny. A house. To do a panny: to rob a house. See the Sessions Papers. Probably, panny originally meant the butler’s pantry, where the knives and forks, spoons, &c. are usually kept The pigs frisked my panney, and nailed my screws; the officers searched my house, and seized my picklock keys. Cant.
Panter. A hart: that animal is, in the Psalms, said to pant after the fresh water-brooks. Also the human heart, which frequently pants in time of danger. Cant.
Pantile shop. A presbyterian, or other dissenting meeting house, frequently covered with pantiles: called also a cock-pit.
Pantler. A butler.
Pap. Bread sauce; also the food of infants. His mouth is full of pap; he is still a baby.
Paper scull. A thin-scull’d foolish fellow.
Papler. Milk pottage.
Parell. Whites of eggs, bay salt, milk, and pump water, beat together, and poured into a vessel of wine to prevent its fretting.
Parenthesis. To put a man’s nose into a parenthesis: to pull it, the fingers and thumb answering the hooks or crochets. A wooden parenthesis; the pillory. An iron parenthesis; a prison.
Parings. The chippings of money. Cant.
Parish bull. A parson.
Parish. His stockings are of two parishes; i.e. they are not fellows.
Parish soldier. A jeering name for a militiaman: from substitutes being frequently hired by the parish from which one of its inhabitants is drawn.
Park pailing. Teeth.
Parson. A guide post, hand or finger post by the road side for directing travellers: compared to a parson, because, like him, it sets people in the right way. See Guide post. He that would have luck in horse-flesh, must kiss a parson’s wife.
Parson’s journeyman. A curate.
Parson palmer. A jocular name, or term of reproach, to one who stops the circulation of the glass by preaching over his liquor; as it is said was done by a parson of that name whose cellar was under his pulpit.
Partial. Inclining more to one side than the other, crooked, all o’ one hugh.
Pass bank. The place for playing at passage, cut into the ground almost like a cock-pit. Also the stock or fund.
Passage. A camp game with three dice: doublets, making up ten or more, to pass or win; any other chances lose.
Pat. Apposite, or to the purpose.
Pate. The head. Carroty-pated; red-haired.
Patrico, or Pater-cove. The fifteenth rank of the canting tribe; strolling priests that marry people under a hedge, without gospel or common prayer book: the couple standing on each side of a dead beast, are bid to live together till death them does part; so shaking hands, the wedding is ended. Also any minister or parson.
Pattering. The maundering or pert replies of servants; also talk or palaver in order to amuse one intended to be cheated. Pattering of prayers; the confused sound of a number of persons praying together.
To patter. To talk. To patter flash; to speak flash, or the language used by thieves. How the blowen lushes jackey, and patters flash; how the wench drinks gin, and talks flash.
Paviour’s workshop. The street.
To paum. To conceal in the hand. To paum a die: to hide a die in the palm of the hand. He paums; he cheats. Don’t pretend to paum that upon me.
Paunch. The belly. Some think paunch was the original name of that facetious prince of puppets, now called Mr. Punch, as he is always represented with a very prominent belly: though the common opinion is, that both the name and character were taken from a celebrated Italian comedian, called Polichenello.
Paw. A hand or foot; look at his dirty paws. Fore paw; the hand. Hind paw; the foot. To paw; to touch or handle clumsily.
Paw paw tricks. Naughty tricks: an expression used by nurses, &c. to children.
To pay. To smear over. To pay the bottom of a ship or boat; to smear it over with pitch: The devil to pay, and no pitch hot or ready. Sea term. — Also to beat: as, I will pay you as Paul paid the Ephesians, over the face and eyes, and all your d —— d jaws. To pay away; to fight manfully, also to eat voraciously. To pay through the nose: to pay an extravagant price.
To Peach. To impeach: called also to blow the gab, squeak, or turn stag.
Peak. Any kind of lace.
Peal. To ring a peal in a man’s ears; to scold at him: his wife rang him such a peal!
Pear making. Taking bounties from several regiments and immediately deserting. The cove was fined in the steel for pear making; the fellow was imprisoned in the house of correction for taking bounties from different regiments.
Peccavi. To cry peccavi; to acknowledge one’s self in an error, to own a fault: from the Latin Peccavi, I have sinned.
Peck. Victuals. Peck and booze; victuals and drink.
Peckish. Hungry.
Ped. A basket. Cant.
Pedlar’s french. The cant language. Pedlar’s pony; a walking-stick.
To Peel. To strip: allusion to the taking off the coat or rind of an orange or apple.
Peeper. A spying glass; also a looking-glass. Track up the dancers, and pike with the peeper; whip up stairs, and run off with the looking-glass. Cant.
Peepers. Eyes. Single peeper, a one-eyed man.
Peeping tom. A nick name for a curious prying fellow; derived from an old legendary tale, told of a taylor of Coventry, who, when Godiva countess of Chester rode at noon quite naked through that town, in order to procure certain immunities for the inhabitants, (notwithstanding the rest of the people shut up their houses) shly peeped out of his window, for which he was miraculously struck blind. His figure, peeping out of a window, is still kept up in remembrance of the transaction.
Peepy. Drowsy.
To Peer. To look about, to be circumspect.
Peery. Inquisitive, suspicious. The cull’s peery; that fellow suspects something. There’s a peery, tis snitch we are observed, there’s nothing to be done.
Peg. Old Peg; poor hard Suffolk or Yorkshire cheese. A peg is also a blow with a straightarm: a term used by the professors of gymnastic arts. A peg in the day-light, the victualling office, or the haltering-place; a blow in the eye, stomach, or under the ear.
Peg trantum’s. Gone to Peg Trantum’s; dead.
Pego. The penis of man or beast.
Pell-mell. Tumultuously, helter skelter, jumbled together.
Pelt. A heat, chafe, or passion; as, What a pelt he was in! Pelt is also the skin of several beasts.
Penance board. The pillory.
Penny-wise and pound foolish. Saving in small matters, and extravagant in great.
Pennyworth. An equivalent. A good pennyworth; cheap bargain.
Penthouse nab. A broad brimmed hat.
Peppered. Infected with the venereal disease.
Peppery. Warm, passionate.
Perkin. Water cyder.
Perriwinkle. A wig.
Persuaders. Spurs. The kiddey clapped his persuaders to his prad but the traps boned him; the highwayman spurred his horse hard, but the officers seized him.
Pet. In a pet; in a passion or miff.
Peter. A portmanteau or cloke-bag. Biter of peters; one that makes it a trade to steal boxes and trunks from behind stage coaches or out of waggons. To rob Peter to pay Paul; to borrow of one man to pay another: styled also manoeuvring the apostles.
Peter gunner, will kill all the birds that died last summer. A piece of wit commonly thrown out at a person walking through a street or village near London, with a gun in his hand.
Peter lay. The department of stealing portmanteaus, trunks, &c.
Peter lug. Who is Peter Lug? who lets the glass stand at his door, or before him.
Petticoat hold. One who has an estate during his wife’s life, called the apron-string hold.
Petticoat pensioner. One kept by a woman forsecret services.
Pettish. Passionate.
Petty fogger. A little dirty attorney, ready to undertake any litigious or bad cause: it is derived from the French words petit vogue, of small credit, or little reputation.
Pharaoh. Strong malt liquor.
Philistines. Bailiffs, or officers of justice; also drunkards.
Phoenix-men. Firemen belonging to an insurance office, which gave a badge charged with a phoenix: these men were called likewise firedrakes.
Phos bottle. A. bottle of phosphorus: used by housebreakers to light their lanthorns. Ding the phos; throw away the bottle of phosphorus.
Phrase of paper. Half a quarter of a sheet. See Vessel, physog.
Physog. The face. A vulgar abbreviation of physiognomy.
Phyz. The face. Rum phyz; an odd face or countenance.
Picaroon. A pirate; also a sharper.
Pickaniny. A young child, an infant. Negro term.
Picking. Pilfering, petty larceny.
Pickle. An arch waggish fellow. In pickle, or in the pickling tub; in a salivation. There are rods in brine, or pickle, for him; a punishment awaits him, or is prepared for him. Pickle herring; the zany or merry andrew of a mountebank. See Jack pudding.
Pickt hatch. To go to the manor of pickt hatch, a cant name for some part of the town noted for bawdy houses in Shakespeare’s time, and used by him in that sense.
Pickthank. A tale-bearer or mischief maker.
Picture frame. The sheriff’s picture frame; the gallows or pillory.
To Piddle. To make water: a childish expression; as, Mammy, I want to piddle. Piddling also means trifling, or doing any thing in a small degree: perhaps from peddling.
Piece. A wench. A damned good or bad piece; a girl who is more or less active and skilful in the amorous congress. Hence the (Cambridge) toast, May we never have a Piece (peace) that will injure the constitution. Piece likewise means at Cambridge a close or spot of ground adjacent to any of the colleges, as Clare-hall Piece, &c. The spot of ground before King’s College formerly belonged to Clare-hall. While Clare Piece belonged to King’s, the master of Clare-hall proposed a swop, which being refused by the provost of King’s, he erected before their gates a temple of Cloacina. It will be unnecessary to say that his arguments were soon acceded to.
Pig. A police officer. A China street pig; a Bow-street officer. Floor the pig and bolt; knock down the officer and run away.
Pig. Sixpence, a sow’s baby. Pig-widgeon; a simpleton. To pig together; to lie or sleep together, two or more in a bed. Cold pig; a jocular punishment inflicted by the maid seryants, or other females of the house, on persons lying over long in bed: it consists in pulling off all the bed clothes, and leaving them to pig or lie in the cold. To buy a pig in a poke; to purchase any thing without seeing. Pig’s eyes; small eyes. Pigsnyes; the same: a vulgar term of endearment to a woman. He can have boiled pig at home; a mark of being master of his own house: an allusion to a well known poem and story. Brandy is Latin for pig and goose; an apology for drinking a dram after either.
Pig-headed. Obstinate.
Pig running. A piece of game frequently practised at fairs, wakes, &c. A large pig, whose tail is cut short, and both soaped and greased, being turned out, is hunted by the young men and boys, and becomes the property of him who can catch and hold him by the tail, abpve the height of his head.
Pigeon. A weak silly fellow easily imposed on. To pigeon; to cheat. To milk the pigeon; to attempt impossibilities, to be put to shifts for want of money. To fly a blue pigeon; to steal lead off a church.
Pigeons. Sharpers, who, during the drawing of the lottery, wait ready mounted near Guildhall, and, as soon as the first two or three numbers are drawn, which they receive from a confederate on a card, ride with them full speed to some distant insurance office, before fixed on, where there is another of the gang, commonly a decent looking woman, who takes care to be at the office before the hour of drawing: to her he secretly gives the number, which she insures for a considerable sum: thus biting the biter.
Pigeon’s milk. Boys and novices are frequently sent on the first of April to buy pigeons milk.
To Pike. To run away. Pike off; run away.
Pilgrim’s salve. A sirreverence, human excrement.
Pill, or Peele garlick. Said originally to mean one whose skin or hair had fallen off from some disease, chiefly the venereal one; but now commonly used by persons speaking of themselves: as, there stood poor pill garlick: i.e. there stood I.
Pillaloo. The Irish cry or howl at funerals.
Pimp. A male procurer, or cock bawd; also a small faggot used about London for lighting fires, named from introducing the fire to the coals.
Pimp whiskin. A top trader in pimping.
Pimple. The head.
Pin. In or to a merry pin; almost drunk: an allusion to a sort of tankard, formerly used in the north, having silver pegs or pins set at equal distances from the top to the bottom: by the rules of good fellowship, every person drinking out of one of these tankards, was to swallow the quantity contained between two pins; if he drank more or less, he was to continue drinking till he ended at a pin: by this means persons unaccustomed to measure their draughts were obliged to drink the whole tankard. Hence when a person was a little elevated with liquor, he was said to have drunk to a merry pin.
Pin basket. The youngest child.
Pin money. An allowance settled on a married woman for her pocket expences.
Pinch. At a pinch; on an exigency.
Pinch. To go into a tradesman’s shop under the pretence of purchasing rings or other light articles, and while examining them to shift some up the sleeve of the coat. Also to ask for change for a guinea, and when the silver is received, to change some of the good shillings for bad ones; then suddenly pretending to recollect that you had sufficient silver to pay the bill, ask for the guinea again, and return the change, by which means several bad shillings are passed.
To Pinch on the parson’s side. To defraud the parson of his tithe.
Pinchers. Rogues who, in changing money, by dexterity of hand frequently secrete two or three shillings out of the change of a guinea. This species of roguery is called the pinch, or pinching lay.
To Pink. To stab or wound with a small sword: probably derived from the holes formerly cut in both men and women’s clothes, called pinking. Pink of the fashion; the top of the mode. To pink and wink; frequently winking the eyes through a weakness in them.
Pinking-dindee. A sweater or mohawk. Irish.
Pins. Legs. Queer pins; ill shapen legs.
Piper. A broken winded horse.
Piscinarians. A club or brotherhood, A.D. 1743.
Piss. He will piss when he can’t whistle; he will be hanged. He shall not piss my money against the wall; he shall not have my money to spend in liquor.
He who once a good name gets,
May piss a bed, and say he sweats.
Piss-burned. Discoloured: commonly applied to a discoloured grey wig.
Piss maker. A great drinker, one much given to liquor.
Piss pot hall. A house at Clapton, near Hackney, built by a potter chiefly out of the profits of chamber pots, in the bottom of which the portrait of Dr. Sacheverel was depicted.
Piss prophet. A physician who judges of the diseases of his patients solely by the inspection of their urine.
Piss-proud. Having a false erection. That old fellow thought he had an erection, but his — was only piss-proud; said of any old fellow who marries a young wife.
Pissing down any one’s back. Flattering him.
Pissing pins and needles. To have a gonorrhea.
Pit. A watch fob. He drew a rare thimble from the swell’s pit. He took a handsome watch from the gentleman’s fob.
Pit. To lay pit and boxes into one; an operation in midwifery or copulation, whereby the division between the anus and vagina is cut through, broken, and demolished: a simile borrowed from the playhouse, when, for the benefit of some favourite player, the pit and boxes are laid together. The pit is also the hole under the gallows, where poor rogues unable to pay the fees are buried.
Pitt’s picture. A window stopt up on the inside, to save the tax imposed in that gentleman’s administration. Party Wit
Pit-a-pat. The palpitation of the heart: as, my heart went pit-a-pat. Pintledy-pantledy; the same.
Pitch-kettled. Stuck fast, confounded.
Pitcher. The miraculous pitcher, that holds water with the mouth downwards: a woman’s commodity. She has crack’d her pitcher or pipkin; she has lost her maidenhead.
Pizzy club. A society held, A. D, 1744, at the sign of the Tower, on Tower Hill: president, Don Pizzaro.
Plaister of warm guts. One warm belly’dapped to another; a receipt frequently prescribed for different disorders.
Plant. The place in the house of the fence where stolen goods are secreted. Any place where stolen goods are concealed.
To Plant. To lay, place, or hide. Plant your wids and stow them; be careful what you say, or let slip. Also to bury, as, he was planted by the parson.
Plate. Money, silver, prize. He is in for the plate; he has won the Keat, i.e. is infected with the venereal disorder: a simile drawn from hofse-racing. When the plate fleet comes in; when money comes to hand.
Platter-faced. Broad-faced.
Play. To play booty; to play with an intention to lose. To play the whole game; to cheat. To play least in sight; to hide, or keep out of the way. To play the devil; to be guilty of some great irregularity or mismanagement.
Pluck. Courage. He wants pluck: he is a coward. Against the pluck; against the inclination. Pluck the Ribbon; ring the bell. To pluck a crow with one; to settle a dispute, to reprove one for some past transgression. To pluck a rose; an expression said to be used by women for going to the necessary house, which in the country usually stands in the garden. To pluck also signifies to deny a degree to a candidate at one of the universities, on account of insufficiency. The three first books of Euclid, and as far as Quadratic Equations in Algebra, will save a man from being plucked. These unfortunate fellows are designated by many opprobrious appellations, such as the twelve apostles, the legion of honor, wise men of the East, &c.
Plug tail. A man’s penis.
Plumb. An hundred thousand pounds.
Plummy. It is all plummy; i.e. all is right, or as it ought to be.
Plump. Fat, full, fleshy. Plump in the pocket; full in the pocket. To plump; to strike, or shoot. I’ll give you a plump in the bread basket, or the victualling office: I’ll give you a blow in the stomach. Plump his peepers, or day-lights; give him a blow in the eyes. He pulled out his pops and plumped him; he drew out his pistols and shot him. A plumper; a single vote at an election. Plump also means directly, or exactly; as, it fell plump upon him: it fell directly upon him.
Plump currant. I am not plump currant; I am out of sorts.
Plumpers. Contrivances said to be formerly worn by old maids, for filling out a pair of shrivelled cheeks.
Plyer. A crutch; also a trader.
Pogy. Drunk.
Point. To stretch a point; to exceed some usual limit, to take a great stride. Breeches were usually tied up with points, a kind of short laces, formerly given away by the churchwardens at Whitsuntide, under the denomination of tags: by taking a great stride these were stretched.
Poisoned. Big with child: that wench is poisoned, see how her belly is swelled. Poison-pated: red-haired.
Poke. A blow with the fist: I’ll lend you a poke. A poke likewise means a sack: whence, to buy a pig in a poke, i.e. to buy any thing without seeing or properly examining it.
Poker. A sword. Fore pokers; aces and kings at cards. To burn your poker; to catch the venereal disease.
Pole. He is like a rope-dancer’s polo, lead at both ends; a saying of a stupid sluggish fellow.
Polish. To polish the king’s iron with one’s eyebrows; to be in gaol, and look through the iron grated windows. To polish a bone; to eat a meal. Come and polish a bone with me; come and eat a dinner or supper with me.
Poll. The head, jolly nob, napper, or knowledge box; also a wig.
Polt. A blow. Lend him a polt in the muns; give him a knock in the face.
To pommel. To beat: originally confined to beating with the hilt of a sword, the knob being, from its similarity to a small apple, called pomelle; in Spanish it is still called the apple of the sword. As the clenched fist likewise somewhat resembles an apple, perhaps that might occasion the term pommelling to be applied to fisty-cuffs.
Pomp. To save one’s pomp at whist, is to score five before the adversaries are up, or win the game: originally derived from pimp, which is Welsh for five; and should be, I have saved my pimp.
Pompaginis. Aqua pompaginis; pump water. See Aqua.
Pompkin. A man or woman of Boston in America: from, the number of pompkins raised and eaten by the people of that country. Pompkinshire; Boston and its dependencies.
Poney. Money. Post the poney; lay down the money.
Pontius pilate. A pawnbroker. Pontius Pilate’s guards, the first regiment of foot, or Royal Scots: so intitled from their supposed great antiquity. Pontius Pilate’s counsellor; one who like him can say, Non invenio causam, I can find no cause. Also (Cambridge) a Mr. Shepherd of Trinity College; who disputing with a brother parson on the comparative rapidity with which they read the liturgy, offered to give him as far as Pontius Pilate in the Belief.
Pope. A figure burned annually every fifth of November, in memory of the gunpowder plot, which is said to have been carried on by the papists.
Pope’s nose. The rump of a turkey.
Pops. Pistols. Popshop: a pawnbroker’s shop. To pop; to pawn: also to shoot. I popped my tatler; I pawned my watch. I popt the cull; I shot the man. His means are two pops and a galloper; that is, he is a highwayman.
Poplers. Pottage. Cant.
Pork. To cry pork; to give intelligence to the undertaker of a funeral; metaphor borrowed from the raven, whose note sounds like the word pork. Ravens are said to smell carrion at a distance.
Porker. A hog: also a Jew.
Porridge. Keep your breath to cool your porridge; i. e. held your tongue.
Porridge island. An alley leading from St. Martin’s church-yard to Round-court, chiefly inhabited by cooks, who cut off ready-dressed meat of all sorts, and also sell soup.
Posey, or Poesy. A nosegay. I shall see you ride backwards up Holborn-hill, with a book in one hand, and a posey in t’other; i.e. I shall see you go to be hanged. Malefactors who piqued themselves on being properly equipped for that occasion, had always a nosegay to smell to, and a prayer book, although they could not read.
Posse mobilitatis. The mob.
Post master general. The prime minister, who has the patronage of all posts and places.
Post nointer. A house painter, who occasionally paints or anoints posts. Knight of the post; a false evidence, one ready to swear any thing for hire. From post to pillar; backwards and forwards.
Postilion of the gospel. A parson who hurries over the service.
Pot. The pot calls the kettle black a-se; one rogue exclaims against another.
Pot. On the pot; i.e. at stool.
Pot converts. Proselytes to the Romish church, made by the distribution of victuals and money.
Pot hunter. One who hunts more tor the sake of the prey than the sport. Pot valiant; courageous from drink. Potwallopers: persons entitled to vote in certain boroughs by having boiled a pot there.
Potatoe trap. The mouth. Shut your potatoe trap and give your tongue a holiday; i.e. be silent. Irish wit.
Pothooks and hangeks. A scrawl, bad writing.
Pot-wabblers. Persons entitled to vote for members of parliament in certain boroughs, from having boiled their pots therein. These boroughs are called pot-wabbling boroughs.
Poulain. A bubo. French.
Poulterer. A person that guts letters; i.e. opens them and secretes the money. The kiddey was topped for the poultry rig; the young fellow was hanged for secreting a letter and taking out the contents.
Pound. To beat. How the milling cove pounded the cull for being nuts on his blowen; how the boxer beat the fellow for taking liberties with his mistress.
Pound. A prison. See Lob’s pound. Pounded; imprisoned. Shut up in the parson’s pound; married. Powder
Powder monkey. A boy on board a ship of war, whose business is to fetch powder from the magazine.
Powdering tub. The same as pickling tub. See Pickling tub.
Prad lay. Cutting bags from behind horses. Cant.
Prad. A horse. The swell flashes a rum prad: the e gentleman sports a fine horse.
Prancer. A horse. Prancer’s nab.; a horse’s head, used as a seal to a counterfeit pass. At the sign of the prancer’s poll, i.e. the nag’s head.
Prate roast. A talkative boy.
Prating cheat. The tongue.
Pratts. Buttocks; also a tinder box. Cant.
Prattle broth. Tea. See Chatter broth, scandal broth, &c.
Prattling box. The pulpit.
Pray. She prays with her knees upwards; said of a woman much given to gallantry and intrigue. At her last prayers; saying of an old maid.
Preadamite quacabites. This great and laudable society (as they termed themselves) held their grand chapter at the Coal-hole.
P—— K. The virile member.
Prick-eared. A prick-eared fellow; one whose ears are longer than his hair: an appellation frequently given to puritans, who considered long hair as the mark of the whore of Babylon.
Pricklouse. A taylor.
Priest-craft. The art of awing the laity, managing their consciences, and diving into their pockets.
Priest-linked. Married.
Priest-ridden. Governed by a priest, or priests.
Prig. A thief, a cheat: also a conceited coxcomical fellow.
Prig napper. A thief taker.
Priggers. Thieves in general. Priggers of prancers; horse stealers. Priggers of cacklers: robbers of hen-roosts.
Prigging. Riding; also lying with a woman.
Prigstar. A rival in love.
Prime. Bang up. Quite the thing. Excellent. Well done. She’s a prime piece; she is very skilful in the venereal act. Prime post. She’s a prime article.
Priminaky. I had like to be brought into a priminary; i.e. into trouble; from Premunire.
Prince prig. A king of the gypsies; also the head thief or receiver general.
Princes. When the majesty of the people was a favourite terra in the House of Commons, a celebrated wit, seeing chimney sweepers dancing on a May-day, styled them the young princes.
Princod. A pincushion. Scotch— Also a round plump man or woman.
Princox. A pert, lively, forward fellow.
Princum prancum. Mrs. Princum Prancum; a nice, precise, formal madam.
Prinking. Dressing over nicely: prinked up as if he came out of a bandbox, or fit to sit upon a cupboard’s head.
Print. All in print, quite neat or exact, set, screwed up. Quite in print; set in a formal manner.
Priscian. To break Priscian’s head; to write or speak false grammar. Priscian was a famous grammarian, who flourished at Constantinople in the year 525; and who was so devoted to his favourite study, that to speak false Latin in his company, was as disagreeable to him as to break his head.
Prittle prattle. Insignificant talk: generally applied to women and children.
Prog. Provision. Rum prog; choice provision. To prog; to be on the hunt for provision: called in the military term to forage.
Props. Crutches.
Property. To make a property of any one; to make him a conveniency, tool, or cat’s paw; to use him as one’s own.
Proud. Desirous of copulation. A proud bitch; a bitch at heat, or desirous of a dog.
Provender. He from whom any money is taken on the highway: perhaps provider, or provider. Cant.
Prophet. The prophet; the Cock at Temple Bar: so called, in 1788, by the bucks of the town of the inferior order.
Prunella. Mr. Prunella; a parson: parson’s gowns being frequently made of prunella.
To Pry. To examine minutely into a matter or business. A prying fellow; a man of impertinent curiosity, apt to peep and inquire into other men’s secrets.
Public man. A bankrupt.
Public ledger. A prostitute: because, like that paper, she is open to all parties.
Pucker. All in a pucker; in a dishabille. Also in a fright; as, she was in a terrible pucker.
Pucker water. Water impregnated with alum, or other astringents, used by old experienced traders to counterfeit virginity.
Puddings. The guts: I’ll let out your puddings.
Pudding-headed fellow. A stupid fellow, one whose brains are all in confusion.
Pudding sleeves. A parson.
Pudding time. In good time, or at the beginning of a meal: pudding formerly making the first dish. To give the crows a pudding; to die. You must eat some cold pudding, to settle your love.
Puff, or Puffer. One who bids at auctions, not with an intent to buy, but only to raise the price of the lot; for which purpose many are hired by the proprietor of the goods on sale.
Puff guts. A fat man.
Puffing. Bidding at an auction, as above; also praising any thing above its merits, from interested motives. The art of puffing is at present greatly practised, and essentially necessary in all trades, professions, and callings. To puff and blow; to be out of breath.
Pug. A Dutch pug; a kind of lap-dog, formerly much in vogue; also a general name for a monkey.
Pug carpenteter. An inferior carpenter, one employed only in small jobs.
Pug drink. Watered cyder.
Pugnosed, or Pugified. A person with a snub or turned up nose.
Pully hawly. To have a game at pully hawly; to romp with women.
Pull. To be pulled; to be arrested by a police officer. To have a pull is to have an advantage; generally where a person has some superiority at a game of chance or skill.
Pump. A thin shoe. To pump; to endeavour to draw a secret from any one without his perceiving it. Your pump is good, but your sucker is dry; said by one to a person who is attempting to pump him. Pumping was also a punishment for bailiffs who attempted to act in privileged places, such as the Mint, Temple, &c. It is also a piece of discipline administered to a pickpocket caught in the fact, when there is no pond at hand. To pump ship; to make water, and sometimes to vomit. Sea phrase.
Pump water. He was christened in pump water; commonly said of a person that has a red face.
Punch. A liquor called by foreigners Contradiction, from its being composed of spirits to make it strong, water to make it weak, lemon juice to make it sour, and sugar to make it sweet. Punch is also the name of the prince of puppets, the chief wit and support of a puppet-show. To punch it, is a cant term for running away. Punchable; old passable money, anno 1695. A girl that is ripe for man is called a punchable wench. Cobler’s Punch. Urine with a cinder in it.
Punk. A whore; also a soldier’s trull. See Trull.
Puny. Weak. A puny child; a weak little child. A puny stomach; a weak stomach. Puny, or puisne judge; the last made judge.
Pupil mongers. Persons at the universities who make it their business to instruct and superintend a number of pupils.
Puppy. An affected or conceited coxcomb.
Purblind. Dim-sighted.
Purl. Ale in which wormwood has been infused, or ale and bitters drunk warm.
Purl royal. Canary wine; with a dash of tincture of wormwood.
Purse proud. One that is vain of his riches.
Pursenets. Goods taken up at thrice their value, by young spendthrifts, upon trust.
Purser’s pump. A bassoon: from its likeness to a syphon, called a purser’s pump.
Pursy, or Pursive. Short-breathed, or foggy, from being over fat.
Pushing school. A fencing school; also a brothel.
Put. A country put; an ignorant awkward clown. To put upon any one; to attempt to impose on him, or to make him the but of the company.
Puzzle-cause. A lawyer who has a confused understanding.
Puzzle-text. An ignorant blundering parson.
Quack. An ungraduated ignorant pretender to skill in physic, a vender of nostrums.
Quack-salver. A mountebank: a seller of salves.
Quacking cheat. A duck.
Quag. Abbreviation of quagmire; marshy moorish around.
Quail-pipe. A woman’s tongue; also a device to take birds of that name by imitating their call. Quail pipe boots; boots resembling a quail pipe, from the number of plaits; they were much worn in the reign of Charles II.
Quakers. A religious sect so called from their agitations in preaching.
Quaking cheat. A calf or sheep.
Quandary. To be in a quandary: to be puzzled. Also one so over-gorged, as to be doubtful which he should do first, sh — e or spew. Some derive the term quandary from the French phrase qu’en dirai je? what shall I say of it? others from an Italian word signifying a conjuror’s circle.
Quarrel-picker. A glazier: from the small squares in casements, called Carreux, vulgarly quarrels.
Quarromes, or Quarron. A body. Cant.
Quartered. Divided into four parts; to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, is the sentence on traitors and rebels. Persons receiving part of the salary of an office from the holder of it, by virtue of an agreement with the donor, are said to be quartered on him. Soldiers billetted on a publican are likewise said to be quartered on him.
To quash. To suppress, annul or overthrow; vulgarly pronounced squash: they squashed the indictment.
Quean. A slut, or worthless woman, a strumpet.
Queen dick. To the tune of the life and death of Queen Dick. That happened in the reign of Queen Dick; i.e., never.
Queen street. A mart governed by his wife, is said to live in Queen street, or at the sign of the Queen’s Head.
Queer, or Quire. Base, roguish, bad, naught or worthless. How queerly the cull touts; how roguishly the fellow looks. It also means odd, uncommon. Cant.
Queer as dick’s hatband. Out of order, without knowing one’s disease.
To queer. To puzzle or confound. I have queered the old full bottom; i.e. I have puzzled the judge. To queer one’s ogles among bruisers; to darken one’s day lights.
Queer wedges. Large buckles.
Queer bail. Insolvent sharpers, who make a profession of bailing persons arrested: they are generally styled Jew bail, from that branch of business being chiefly carried on by the sons of Judah. The lowest sort of these, who borrow or hire clothes to appear in, are called Mounters, from their mounting particular dresses suitable to the occasion. Cant.
Queer birds. Rogues relieved from prison, and returned to their old trade.
Queer bit-makers. Coiners. Cant.
Queer bitch. An odd, out-of-the-way fellow.
Queer bluffer. The master of a public-house the resort of rogues and sharpers, a cut-throat inn or alehouse keeper.
Queer bung. An empty purse.
Queer checkers. Among strolling players, door-keepers who defraud the company, by falsely checking the number of people in the house.
Queer cole fencer. A putter off, or utterer, of bad money.
Queer cole maker. A maker of bad money.
Queer cove. A rogue. Cant.
Queer cuffin. A justice of the peace; also a churl.
Queer degen. An ordinary sword, brass or iron hilted.
Queer ken. A prison. Cant.
Queer kicks. A bad pair of breeches.
Queer mort. A diseased strumpet. Cant.
Queer nab. A felt hat, or other bad hat.
Queer plungers. Cheats who throw themselves into the water, in order that they may be taken up by their accomplices, who carry them to one of the houses appointed by the Humane Society for the recovery of drowned persons, where they are rewarded by the society with a guinea each; and the supposed drowned persons, pretending he was driven to that extremity by great necessity, also frequently sent away with a contribution in his pocket.
Queer prancer. A bad, worn-out, foundered horse; also a cowardly or faint-hearted horse-stealer.
Queer rooster. An informer that pretends to be sleeping, and thereby overhears the conversation of thieves in night cellars.
Queer street. Wrong. Improper. Contrary to one’s wish. It is queer street, a cant phrase, to signify that it is wrong or different to our wish.
Quitam. Aquitam horse; one that will both carry and draw. Law wit.
To quibble. To make subtle distinctions; also to play upon words.
Quick and nimble. More like a bear than a squirrel. Jeeringly said to any one moving sluggishly on a business or errand that requires dispatch.
Quid. The quantity of tobacco put into the mouth at one time. To quid tobacco; to chew tobacco. Quid est hoc? hoc est quid; a guinea. Half a quid; half a guinea. The swell tipped me fifty quid for the prad; the gentleman gave fifty pounds for the horse.
Quids. Cash, money. Can you tip me any quids? can you lend me some money?
Quiffing. Rogering. See To roger.
Quidnunc. A politician: from a character of that name in the farce of the Upholsterer.
Quill driver. A clerk, scribe, or hackney writer.
Quim. The private parts of a woman: perhaps from the Spanish quemar, to burn. (Cambridge) A piece’s furbelow.
Quinsey. Choked by a hempen quinsey; hanged.
Quipps. Girds, taunts, jests.
Quire, or Choir bird. A complete rogue, one that has sung in different choirs or cages, i.e. gaols. Cant.
Quirks and quillets. Tricks and devices. Quirks in law; subtle distinctions and evasions.
Quiz. A strange-looking fellow, an odd dog. Oxford.
Quod. Newgate, or any other prison. The dab’s in quod; the poor rogue is in prison.
Quota. Snack, share, part, proportion, or dividend. Tip me my quota; give me part of the winnings, booty, or plunder. Cant.
Rabbit. A Welch rabbit; bread and cheese toasted, i.e. a Welch rare bit. Rabbits were also a sort of wooden canns to drink out of, now out of use.
Rabbit catcher. A midwife.
Rabbit suckers. Young spendthrifts taking up goods on trust at great prices.
Rack rent. Rent strained to the utmost value. To lie at rack and manger; to be in great disorder.
Rackaback. A gormagon. See Gormagon.
Raffs. An appellation given by the gownsmen of the university of Oxford to the inhabitants of that place.
Rag. Bank notes. Money in general. The cove has no rag; the fellow has no money.
Rag. A farthing.
To rag. To abuse, and tear to rags the characters of the persons abused. She gave him a good ragging, or ragged him off heartily.
Rag carrier. An ensign.
Rag fair. An inspection of the linen and necessaries of a company of soldiers, commonly made by their officers on Mondays or Saturdays.
Rag water. Gin, or any other common dram: these liquors seldom failing to reduce those that drink them to rags.
Ragamuffin. A ragged fellow, one all in tatters, a tatterdemallion.
Rails. See Head rails. A dish of rails; a lecture, jobation, or scolding from a married woman to her husband.
Rainbow. Knight of the rainbow; a footman: from being commonly clothed in garments of different colours. A meeting of gentlemen, styled of the most ancient order of the rainbow, was advertised to be held at the Foppington’s Head, Moorfields.
Rainy day. To lay up something for a rainy day; to provide against a time of necessity or distress.
Rake, rakehell, or Rakeshame. A lewd, debauched fellow.
Ralph spooner. A fool.
Ram cat. A he cat.
Rammish. Rank. Rammish woman; a sturdy virago.
Rammer. The arm. The busnapper’s kenchin seized my rammer; i.e. the watchman laid hold of my arm. Cant.
To ramp. To snatch, or tear any thing forcibly from the person.
Ramshackled. Out of repair. A ramshackled house; perhaps a corruption of Ransacked, i.e. plundered.
Randle. A set of nonsensical verses, repeated in Ireland by schoolboys, and young people, who have been guilty of breaking wind backwards before any of their companions; if they neglect this apology, they are liable to certain kicks, pinches, and fillips, which are accompanied with divers admonitory couplets.
Randy. Obstreperous, unruly, rampant.
Rangling. Intriguing with a variety of women.
Rank. Stinking, rammish, ill-flavoured; also strong, great. A rank knave; a rank coward: perhaps the latter may allude to an ill savour caused by fear.
Rank rider. A highwayman.
Rantallion. One whose scrotum is so relaxed as to be longer than his penis, i.e. whose shot pouch is longer that the barrel of his piece.
Rantipole. A rude romping boy or girl; also a gadabout dissipated woman. To ride rantipole; the same as riding St. George. See St. george.
Rantum scantum. Playing at rantum scantum; making the beast with two backs.
To Rap To take a false oath; also to curse. He rapped out a volley; i.e. he swore a whole volley of oaths. To rap, means also to exchange or barter: a rap is likewise an Irish halfpenny. Rap on the knuckles; a reprimand.
Rapparees. Irish robbers, or outlaws, who in the time of Oliver Cromwell were armed with short weapons, called in Irish Rapiers, used for ripping persons up.
Rapper. A swinging great lie.
Raree shew men. Poor Savoyards, who subsist by shewing the magic lantern and marmots about London.
Rascal. A rogue or villain: a term borrowed from the chase; a rascal originally meaning a lean shabby deer, at the time of changing his horns, penis, &c. whence, in the vulgar acceptation, rascal is conceived to signify a man without genitals: the regular vulgar answer to this reproach, if uttered by a woman, is the offer of an ocular demonstration of the virility of the party so defamed. Some derive it from Rascaglione, an Italian word signifying a man. without testicles, or an eunuch.
Rat. A drunken man or woman taken up by the watch, and confined in the watch-house. Cant. To smell a rat; to suspect some intended trick, or unfair design.
Rats. Of these there are the following kinds: a black rat and a grey rat, a py-rat and a cu-rat.
Rattle. A dice-box. To rattle; to talk without consideration, also to move off or go away. To rattle one off; to rate or scold him.
Rattle-pate. A volatile, unsteady, or whimsical man or woman.
Rattle-traps. A contemptuous name for any curious portable piece of machinery, or philosophical apparatus.
Rattler. A coach. Rattle and prad; a coach and horses.
Rattling cove. A coachman. Cant.
Rattling mumpers. Beggars who ply coaches. Cant.
Rawhead and bloody bones. A bull beggar, or scarechild, with which foolish nurses terrify crying brats.
Reader. A pocket-book. Cant.
Reader merchants. Pickpockets, chiefly young Jews, who ply about the Bank to steal the pocket-books of persons who have just received their dividends there.
Ready. The ready rhino; money. Cant.
Rebus. A riddle or pun on a man’s name, expressed in sculpture or painting, thus: a bolt or arrow, and a tun, for Bolton; death’s head, and a ton, for Morton.
Receiver general. A prostitute.
Reckon. To reckon with one’s host; to make an erroneous judgment in one’s own favour. To cast-up one’s reckoning or accounts; to vomit.
To recruit. To get a fresh supply of money.
Recruiting service. Robbing on the highway.
Red fustian. Port wine.
Red lane. The throat. Gone down the red lane; swallowed.
Red ribbin. Brandy.
Red lattice. A public house.
Red letter day. A saint’s day or holiday, marked in the calendars with red letters. Red letter men; Roman Catholics: from their observation of the saint days marked in red letters.
Red rag. The tongue. Shut your potatoe trap, and give your red rag a holiday; i.e. shut your mouth, and let your tongue rest. Too much of the red rag (too much tongue).
Red sail-yard dockers. Buyers of stores stolen out of the royal yards and docks.
Red shank. A Scotch Highlander.
Regulars. Share of the booty. The coves cracked the swell’s crib, fenced the swag, and each cracksman napped his regular; some fellows broke open a gentleman’s house, and after selling the property which they had stolen, they divided the money between them.
Religious horse. One much given to prayer, or apt to be down upon his knees.
Religious painter. One who does not break the commandment which prohibits the making of the likeness of any thing in heaven or earth, or in the waters under the earth.
The relish. The sign of the Cheshire cheese.
Relish. Carnal connection with a woman.
Remedy critch. A chamber pot, or member mug.
Remember parson melham. Drink about: a Norfolk phrase.
Rendezvous. A place of meeting. The rendezvous of the beggars were, about the year 1638, according to the Bellman, St. Quinton’s, the Three Crowns in the Vintry, St. Tybs, and at Knapsbury: there were four barns within a mile of London. In Middlesex were four other harbours, called Draw the Pudding out of the Fire, the Cross Keys in Craneford parish, St. Julian’s in Isleworth parish, and the house of Pettie in Northall parish. In Kent, the King’s Barn near Dartford, and Ketbrooke near Blackheath.
Rep. A woman of reputation.
Repository. A lock-up or spunging-house, a gaol. Also livery stables where horses and carriages are sold by auction.
Rescounters. The time of settlement between the bulls and bears of Exchange-alley, when the losers must pay their differences, or become lame ducks, and waddle out of the Alley.
Resurrection men. Persons employed by the students in anatomy to steal dead bodies out of church-yards.
Reverence. An ancient custom, which obliges any person easing himself near the highway or foot-path, on the word Reverence being given him by a passenger, to take off his hat with his teeth, and without moving from his station to throw it over his head, by which it frequently falls into the excrement; this was considered as a punishment for the breach of delicacy, A person refusing to obey this law, might be pushed backwards. Hence, perhaps, the term, Sir-reverence.
Reversed. A man set by bullies on his head, that his money may fall out of his breeches, which they afterwards by accident pick up. See Hoisting.
Review of the black cuirassiers. A visitation of the clergy. See Crow fair.
Rhino. Money. Cant.
Rib. A wife: an allusion to our common mother Eve, made out of Adam’s rib. A crooked rib: a cross-grained wife.
Ribaldry. Vulgar abusive language, such as was spoken by ribalds. Ribalds were originally mercenary soldiers who travelled about, serving any master far pay, but afterwards degenerated into a mere banditti.
Ribbin. Money. The ribbin runs thick; i.e. there is plenty of money. Cant. Blue ribbin. Gin. The cull lushes the blue ribbin; the silly fellow drinks common gin.
To Ribroast. To beat: I’ll ribroast him to his heart’s content.
Rich face, or Nose. A red pimpled, face.
Richaud snary. A dictionary. A country lad, having been reproved for calling persons by their christian names, being sent by his master to borrow a dictionary, thought to shew his breeding by asking for a Richard Snary.
Rider. A person who receives part of the salary of a place or appointment from the ostensible occupier, by virtue of an agreement with the donor, or great man appointing. The rider is said to be quartered upon the possessor, who often has one or more persons thus riding behind him. See Quartered.
Ridge. A guinea. Ridge cully; a goldsmith. Cant.
Riding st. george. The woman uppermost in the amorous congress, that is, the dragon upon St. George. This is said to be the way to get a bishop.
Riding skimmington. A ludicrous cavalcade, in ridicule of a man beaten by his wife. It consists of a man riding behind a woman, with his face to the horse’s tail, holding a distaff in his hand, at which he seems to work, the woman all the while beating him with a ladle; a smock displayed on a staff is carried before them as an emblematical standard, denoting female superiority: they are accompanied by what is called the Rough music, that is, frying-pans, bulls horns, marrow-bones and cleavers, &c. A procession of this kind is admirably described by Butler in his Hudibras. He rode private, i.e. was a private trooper.
Riff raff. Low vulgar persons, mob, tag-rag and bob-tail.
Rig. Fun, game, diversion, or trick. To run one’s rig upon any particular person; to make him a butt. I am up to your rig; I am a match for your tricks.
Rigging. Clothing. I’ll unrig the bloss; I’ll strip the wench. Rum Rigging; fine clothes. The cull has rum rigging, let’s ding him and mill him, and pike; the fellow has good clothes, let’s knock him down, rob him, and scour off, i.e. run away.
Right. All right! A favourite expression among thieves, to signify that all is as they wish, or proper for their purpose. All right, hand down the jemmy; every thing is in proper order, give me the crow.
Rigmarole. Roundabout, nonsensical. He told a long rigmarole story.
Ring. Money procured by begging: beggars so called it from its ringing when thrown to them. Also a circle formed for boxers, wrestlers, and cudgel-players, by a man styled Vinegar; who, with his hat before his eyes, goes round the circle, striking at random with his whip to prevent the populace from crowding in.
To ring a peal. To scold; chiefly applied to women. His wife rung him a fine peal!
Ring the changes. When a person receives silver in change to shift some good shillings and put bad ones in their place. The person who gave the change is then requested to give good shillings for these bad ones.
Rip. A miserable rip; a poor, lean, worn-out horse. A shabby mean fellow.
Rippons. Spurs: Rippon is famous for a manufactory of spurs both for men and fighting cocks.
Roaratorios and uproars. Oratorios and operas.
Roaring boy. A noisy, riotous fellow.
Roarer. A broken-winded horse.
Roaring trade. A quick trade.
To roast. To arrest. I’ll roast the dab; I’ll arrest the rascal. — Also to jeer, ridicule, or banter. He stood the roast; he was the butt. — Roast meat clothes; Sunday or holiday-clothes. To cry roast meat; to boast of one’s situation. To rule the roast; to be master or paramount.
Roast and boiled. A nick name for the Life Guards, who are mostly substantial house-keepers; and eat daily of roast and boiled.
Robert’s men. The third old rank of the canting crew, mighty thieves, like Robin Hood.
Roby douglass, with one eye and a stinking breath. The breech.
Rochester portion. Two torn smocks, and what nature gave.
Rocked. He was rocked in a stone kitchen; a saying meant to convey the idea that the person spoken of is a fool, his brains having been disordered by the jumbling of his cradle.
Roger. A portmanteau; also a man’s yard. Cant.
Roger, or Tib of the buttery. A goose. Cant. Jolly Roger; a flag hoisted by pirates.
To roger. To bull, or lie with a woman; from the name of Roger being frequently given to a bull.
Rogues. The fourth order of canters. A rogue in grain; a great rogue, also a corn chandler. A rogue in spirit; a distiller or brandy merchant.
Rogum pogum, or Dragrum pogram. Goat’s beard, eaten for asparagus; so called by the ladies who gather cresses, &c. who also deal in this plant.
Romboyles. Watch and ward. Romboyled; sought after with a warrant.
Rome mort. A queen.
Romeville. London. Cant.
Romp. A forward wanton girl, a tomrig. Grey, in his notes to Shakespeare, derives it from arompo, an animal found in South Guinea, that is a man eater. See Hoyden.
Rook. A cheat: probably from the thievish disposition of the birds of that name. Also the cant name for a crow used in house-breaking. To rook; to cheat, particularly at play.
Room. She lets out her fore room and lies backwards: saying of a woman suspected of prostitution.
Roost lay. Stealing poultry.
Ropes. Upon the high ropes; elated, in high spirits, cock-a-hoop.
Rose. Under the rose: privately or secretly. The rose was, it is said, sacred to Harpocrates, the God of silence, and therefore frequently placed in the ceilings of rooms destined for the receiving of guests; implying, that whatever was transacted there, should not be made public.
Rosy gills. One with a sanguine or fresh-coloured countenance.
Rotan. A coach, cart, or other wheeled carriage.
Rot gut. Small beer; called beer-a-bumble — will burst one’s guts before it will make one tumble.
Rovers. Pirates, vagabonds.
Rough. To lie rough; to lie all night in one’s clothes: called also roughing it. Likewise to sleep on the bare deck of a ship, when the person is commonly advised to chuse the softest plank.
Rough music. Saucepans, frying-paps, poker and tongs, marrow-bones and cleavers, bulls horns, &c. beaten upon and sounded in ludicrous processions.
Rouleau. A number of guineas, from twenty to fifty or more, wrapped up in paper, for the more ready circulation at gaming-tables: sometimes they are inclosed in ivory boxes, made to hold exactly 20, 50, or 100 guineas.
Round dealing. Plain, honest dealing.
Roundheads. A term of reproach to the puritans and partizans of Oliver Cromwell, and the Rump Parliament, who it is said made use of a bowl as a guide to trim their hair.
Round robin. A mode of signing remonstrances practised by sailors on board the king’s ships, wherein their names are written in a circle, so that it cannot be discovered who first signed it, or was, in other words, the ringleader.
Round sum. A considerable sum.
Round about. An instrument used in housebreaking. This instrument has not been long in use. It will cut a round piece about five inches in diameter out of a shutter or door.
Round mouth. The fundament. Brother round mouth, speaks; he has let a fart.
Rout. A modern card meeting at a private house; also an order from the Secretary at War, directing the march and quartering of soldiers.
Row. A disturbance; a term used by the students at Cambridge.
Row. To row in the same boat; to be embarked in the same scheme.
Rowland. To give a Rowland for an Oliver; to give an equivalent. Rowland and Oliver were two knights famous in romance: the wonderful achievements of the one could only be equalled by those of the other.
Royal scamps. Highwaymen who never rob any but rich persons, and that without ill treating them. See Scamp.
Royal stag society. Was held every Monday evening, at seven o’clock, at the Three tuns, near the Hospital Gate, Newgate-street.
Royster. A rude boisterous fellow; also a hound that opens on a false scent.
To rub. To run away. Don’t rub us to the whit; don’t send us to Newgate. Cant. — To rub up; to refresh: to rub up one’s memory. A rub: an impediment. A rubber; the best two out of three. To win a rubber: to win two games out of three.
Ruby faced. Red-faced.
Ruff. An ornament formerly worn by men and women round their necks. Wooden ruff; the pillory.
Ruffian. The devil. Cant. — May the ruffian nab the cuffin queer, and let the harmanbeck trine with his kinchins about his colquarren; may the Devil take the justice, and let the constable be hanged with his children about his neck. The ruffian cly thee; the Devil take thee. Ruffian cook ruffian, who scalded the Devil in his feathers; a saying of a bad cook. Ruffian sometimes also means, a justice.
Ruffles. Handcuffs. Cant.
Rufflers. The first rank of canters; also notorious rogues pretending to be maimed soldiers or sailors.
Ruffmans. The woods, hedges, or bushes. Cant.
Rug. It is all rug; it is all right and safe, the game is secure. Cant.
Rug. Asleep. The whole gill is safe at rug; the people of the house are fast asleep.
Rum. Fine, good, valuable.
Rum beck. A justice of the peace. Cant.
Rum bite. A clever cheat, a clean trick.
Rum bleating cheat. A fat wether sheep. Cant.
Rum blowen. A handsome wench. Cant.
Rum bluffer. A jolly host. Cant.
Rum bob. A young apprentice; also a sharp trick.
Rum booze. Wine, or any other good liquor. Rum boozing welts; bunches of grapes. Cant.
Rum bubber. A dexterous fellow at stealing silver tankards from inns and taverns.
Rum bugher. A valuable dog. Cant.
Rum bung. A full purse. Cant.
Rum chub. Among butchers, a customer easily imposed on, as to the quality and price of meat. Cant.
Rum chant. A song.
Rum clout. A fine silk, cambric, or holland handkerchief. Cant.
Rum cod. A good purse of gold. Cant.
Rum cole. New money, or medals.
Rum cove. A dexterous or clever rogue.
Rum cull. A rich fool, easily cheated, particularly by his mistress.
Rum degen. A handsome sword. Cant.
Rum dell. See Rum doxy.
Rum diver. A dextrous pickpocket. Cant.
Rum doxy. A fine wench. Cant.
Rum drawers. Silk, or other fine stockings. Cant.
Rum dropper. A vintner. Cant.
Rum dubber. An expert picklock.
Rum duke. A jolly handsome fellow; also an odd eccentric fellow; likewise the boldest and stoutest fellows lately among the Alsatians, Minters, Savoyards, and other inhabitants of privileged districts, sent to remove and guard the goods of such bankrupts as intended to take sanctuary in those places. Cant.
Rum file. See Rum diver.
Rum fun. A sharp trick. Cant.
Rum gaggers. Cheats who tell wonderful stories of their sufferings at sea, or when taken by the Algerines, Cant.
Rum ghelt. See Rum cole. Cant.
Rum glymmer. King or chief of the link-boys. Cant.
Rum kicks. Breeches of gold or silver brocade, or richly laced with gold or silver. Cant.
Rum mawnd. One that counterfeits a fool. Cant.
Rum mort. A queen, or great lady. Cant.
Rum nab. A good hat.
Rum nantz. Good French brandy. Cant.
Rum ned. A very rich silly fellow. Cant.
Rum pad. The highway. Cant.
Rum padders. Highwaymen well mounted and armed. Cant.
Rum peepers. Fine looking-glasses. Cant.
Rum prancer. A fine horse. Cant.
Rum quids. A great booty. Cant.
Rum ruff peck. Westphalia ham. Cant.
Rum snitch. A smart fillip on the nose.
Rum squeeze. Much wine, or good liquor, given among fiddlers. Cant.
Rum tilter. See Rum degen.
Rum tol. See Rum degen.
Rum topping. A rich commode, or woman’s head-dress.
Rum ville. See Romeville.
Rum wiper. See Rum clout.
Rumbo. Rum, water, and sugar; also a prison.
Rumboyle. A ward or watch.
Rumbumtious. Obstreperous.
Rumford. To ride to Rumford to have one’s backside new bottomed: i.e. to have a pair of new leather breeches. Rumford was formerly a famous place for leather breeches. A like saying is current in Norfolk and Suffolk, of Bungay, and for the same reason. — Rumford lion; a calf. See Essex lion.
Rump. To rump any one; to turn the back to him: an evolution sometimes used at court. Rump and a dozen; a rump of beef and a dozen of claret; an Irish wager, called also buttock and trimmings. Rump and kidney men; fiddlers that play at feasts, fairs, weddings, &c. and live chiefly on the remnants.
Rumpus. A riot, quarrel, or confusion.
Run goods. A maidenhead, being a commodity never entered.
Running horse, or Nag. A clap, or gleet.
Running smobble. Snatching goods off a counter, and throwing them to an accomplice, who brushes off with them.
Running stationers. Hawker of newspapers, trials, and dying speeches.
Runt. A short squat man or woman: from the small cattle called Welsh runts.
Rushers. Thieves who knock at the doors of great houses in London, in summer time, when the families are gone out of town, and on the door being opened by a woman, rush in and rob the house; also housebreakers who enter lone houses by force.
Russian coffee-house. The Brown Bear in Bow-street, Covent Garden, a house of call for thief-takers and runners of the Bow street justices.
Rusty. Out of use, To nab the rust; to be refractory; properly applied to a restive horse, and figuratively to the human species. To ride rusty; to be sullen; called also to ride grub.
Rusty guts. A blunt surly fellow: a jocular misnomer of Resticus.
Rutting. Copulating. Rutting time; the season, when deer go to rut.
Sacheverel. The iron door, or blower, to the mouth of a stove: from a divine of that name, who made himself famous for blowing the coals of dissension in the latter end of the reign of queen Ann.
Sack. A pocket. To buy the sack: to get drunk. To dive into the sack; to pick a pocket. To break a bottle in an empty sack; a bubble bet, a sack with a bottle in it not being an empty sack.
Sad dog. A wicked debauched fellow; one of the ancient family of the sad dogs. Swift translates it into Latin by the words Tristis canis.
Saddle. To saddle the spit; to give a dinner or supper. To saddle one’s nose; to wear spectacles. To saddle a place or pension; to oblige the holder to pay a certain portion of his income to some one nominated by the donor. Saddle sick: galled with riding, having lost leather.
Saint. A piece of spoilt timber in a coach-maker’s shop, like a saint, devoted to the flames.
Saint geoffrey’s day. Never, there being no saint of that name: tomorrow-come-never, when two Sundays come together.
Saint luke’s bird. An ox; that Evangelist being always represented with an ox.
Saint monday. A holiday most religiously observed by journeymen shoemakers, and other inferior mechanics. A profanation of that day, by working, is punishable by a fine, particularly among the gentle craft. An Irishman observed, that this saint’s anniversary happened every week.
Sal. An abbreviation of Salivation. In a high sal; in the pickling tub, or under a salivation.
Salesman’s dog. A barker. Vide Barker.
Salmon-gundy. Apples, onions, veal or chicken, and pickled herrings, minced fine, and eaten with oil and vinegar; some derive the name of this mess from the French words Selon mon goust, because the proportions of the different ingredients are regulated by the palate of the maker; others say it bears the name of the inventor, who was a rich Dutch merchant; but the general and most probable opinion is, that it was invented by the countess of Salmagondi, one of the ladies of Mary de Medicis, wife of King Henry IV. of France, and by her brought into France.
Salmon or Salamon. The beggars’sacrament or oath.
Salt. Lecherous. A salt bitch: a bitch at heat, or proud bitch. Salt eel; a rope’s end, used to correct boys, &c. at sea: you shall have a salt eel for supper.
Sammy. Foolish. Silly.
Sandwich. Ham, dried tongue, or some other salted meat, cut thin and put between two slices of bread and butter: said to be a favourite morsel with the Earl of Sandwich.
Sandy pate. A red haired man or woman.
Sangaree. Rack punch was formerly so called in bagnios.
Sank, sanky, or Centipee’s. A taylor employed by clothiers in making soldier’s clothing.
Sapscull. A simple fellow. Sappy; foolish.
Satyr. A libidinous fellow: those imaginary things are by poets reported to be extremely salacious.
Sauce box. A term of familiar raillery, signifying a bold or forward person.
Save-all. A kind of candlestick used by our frugal forefathers, to burn snuffs and ends of candles. Figuratively, boys running about gentlemen’s houses in Ireland, who are fed on broken meats that would otherwise be wasted, also a miser.
Saunterer. An idle, lounging fellow; by some derived from Sans terre; applied to persons, who, having no lands or home, lingered and loitered about. Some derive it from persons devoted to the Holy Land, Saint terre, who loitered about, as waiting for company.
Saw. An old saw; an ancient proverbial saying.
Sawny or Sandy. A general nick-name for a Scotchman, as Paddy is for an Irishman, or Taffy for a Welchman; Sawny or Sandy being the familiar abbreviation or diminution of Alexander, a very favourite name among the Scottish nation.
Scab. A worthless man or woman.
Scald miserables. A set of mock masons, who, A.D. 1744, made a ludicrous procession in ridicule of the Free Masons.
Scalder. A clap. The cull has napped a scalder; the fellow has got a clap.
Scaly. Mean. Sordid. How scaly the cove is; how mean the fellow is.
Scaly fish. An honest, rough, blunt sailor.
Scamp. A highwayman. Royal scamp: a highwayman who robs civilly. Royal foot scamp; a footpad who behaves in like manner.
To scamper. To run away hastily.
Scandal broth. Tea.
Scandal proof. One who has eaten shame and drank after it, or would blush at being ashamed.
Scapegallows. One who deserves and has narrowly escaped the gallows, a slip-gibbet, one for whom the gallows is said to groan.
Scapegrace. A wild dissolute fellow.
Scarce. To make one’s self scarce; to steal away.
Scarlet horse. A high red, hired or hack horse: a pun on the word Hired.
Scavey. Sense, knowledge. “Massa, me no scavey;” master, I don’t know (Negro language) perhaps from the French Scavoir.
Scheme. A party of pleasure.
Schism monger. A dissenting teacher.
Schism shop. A dissenting meeting house.
A scold’s cure. A coffin. The blowen has napped the scold’s cure; the bitch is in her coffin.
School of venus. A bawdy-house.
School butter. Cobbing, whipping.
Sconce. The head, probably as being the fort and citadel of a man: from Sconce, an old name for a fort, derived from a Dutch word of the same signification; To build a sconce: a military term for bilking one’s quarters. To sconce or skonce; to impose a fine. Academical phrase.
Scot. A young bull.
Scotch greys. Lice. The headquarters of the Scotch greys: the head of a man full of large lice.
Scotch pint. A bottle containing two quarts.
Scotch bait. A halt and a resting on a stick, as practised by pedlars.
Scotch chocolate. Brimstone and milk.
Scotch fiddle. The itch.
Scotch mist. A sober soaking rain; a Scotch mist will wet an Englishman to the skin.
Scotch warming pan. A wench; also a fart.
Scoundrel. A man void of every principle of honour.
Scour. To scour or score off; to run away: perhaps from Score; i.e. full speed, or as fast as legs would carry one. Also to wear: chiefly applied to irons, fetters, or handcuffs, because wearing scours them. He will scour the darbies; he will be in fetters. To scour the cramp ring; to wear bolts or fetters, from which, as well as from coffin hinges, rings supposed to prevent the cramp are made.
Scourers. Riotous bucks, who amuse themselves with breaking windows, beating the watch, and assaulting every person they meet: called scouring the streets.
Scout. A college errand-boy at Oxford, called a gyp at Cambridge. Also a watchman or a watch. Cant.
Scragged. Hanged.
Scraggy. Lean, bony.
Scragg’em fair. A public execution.
Scrap. A villainous scheme or plan. He whiddles the whole scrap; he discovers the whole plan or scheme.
Scrape. To get into a scrape; to be involved in a disagreeable business.
Scraper. A fiddler; also one who scrapes plates for mezzotinto prints.
Scraping. A mode of expressing dislike to a person, or sermon, practised at Oxford by the students, in scraping their feet against the ground during the preachment; frequently done to testify their disapprobation of a proctor who has been, as they think, too rigorous.
Scratch. Old Scratch; the Devil: probably from the long and sharp claws with which he is frequently delineated.
Scratch land. Scotland.
Scratch platter, or Taylor’s ragout. Bread sopt in the oil and vinegar in which cucumbers have been sliced.
Screen. A bank note. Queer screens; forged bank notes. The cove was twisted for smashing queer screens; the fellow was hanged for uttering forged bank notes.
Screw. A skeleton key used by housebreakers to open a lock. To stand on the screw signifies that a door is not bolted, but merely locked.
To screw. To copulate. A female screw; a common prostitute. To screw one up; to exact upon one in a bargain or reckoning.
Screw jaws. A wry-mouthed man or woman.
Scrip. A scrap or slip of paper. The cully freely blotted the scrip, and tipt me forty hogs; the man freely signed the bond, and gave me forty shillings. — Scrip is also a Change Alley phrase for the last loan or subscription. What does scrip go at for the next rescounters? what does scrip sell for delivered at the next day of settling?
Scroby. To be tipt the scroby; to be whipt before the justices.
Scrope. A farthing. Cant.
Scrub. A low mean fellow, employed in all sorts of dirty work.
Scrubbado. The itch.
Scull. A head of a house, or master of a college, at the universities.
Scull, or Sculler. A boat rowed by one man with a light kind of oar, called a scull; also a one-horse chaise or buggy.
Scull thatcher. A peruke-maker.
Scum. The riff-raff, tag-rag, and bob-tail, or lowest order of people.
Scut. The tail of a hare or rabbit; also that of a woman.
Scuttle. To scuttle off; to run away. To scuttle a ship; to make a hole in her bottom in order to sink her.
Sea crab. A sailor.
Sea lawyer. A shark.
Sealer, or Squeeze wax. One ready to give bond and judgment for goods or money.
Secret. He has been let into the secret: he has been cheated at gaming or horse-racing. He or she is in the grand secret, i.e. dead.
Seedy. Poor, pennyless, stiver-cramped, exhausted.
Sees. The eyes. See Daylights.
Served. Found guilty. Convicted. Ordered to be punished or transported. To serve a cull out; to beat a man soundly.
Seraglio. A bawdy-house; the name of that part of the Great Turk’s palace where the women are kept.
Send. To drive or break in. Hand down the Jemmy and send it in; apply the crow to the door, and drive it in.
Set. A dead set: a concerted scheme to defraud a person by gaming.
Setter. A bailiff’s follower, who, like a setting dog follows and points the game for his master. Also sometimes an exciseman.
To settle. To knock down or stun any one. We settled the cull by a stroke on his nob; we stunned the fellow by a blow on the head.
Seven-sided animal. A one-eyed man or woman, each having a right side and a left side, a fore side and a back side, an outside, an inside, and a blind side.
Shabbaroon. An ill-dressed shabby fellow; also a mean-spirited person.
Shaftsbury. A gallon pot full of wine, with a cock.
To Shag. To copulate. He is but bad shag; he is no able woman’s man.
Shag-bag, or Shake-bag. A poor sneaking fellow; a man of no spirit: a term borrowed from the cock-pit.
Shake. To shake one’s elbow; to game with dice. To shake a cloth in the wind; to be hanged in chains.
Shake. To draw any thing from the pocket. He shook the swell of his fogle; he robbed the gentleman of his silk handkerchief.
Shallow pate. A simple fellow.
Shallow. a whip hat, so called from the want of depth in the crown. Lilly shallow, a White Whip hat.
Sham. A cheat, or trick. To cut a sham; to cheat or deceive. Shams; false sleeves to put on over a dirty shirt, or false sleeves with ruffles to put over a plain one. To sham Abram; to counterfeit sickness.
To shamble. To walk awkwardly. Shamble-legged: one that walks wide, and shuffles about his feet.
Shanker. A venereal wart.
Shanks. Legs, or gams.
Shanks naggy. To ride shanks naggy: to travel on foot. Scotch.
Shannon. A river in Ireland: persons dipped in that river are perfectly and for ever cured of bashfulness.
Shapes. To shew one’s shapes; to be stript, or made peel, at the whipping-post.
Shappo, or Shap. A hat: corruption of Chapeau. Cant.
Shark. A sharper: perhaps from his preying upon any one he can lay hold of. Also a custom-house officer, or tide-waiter. Sharks; the first order of pickpockets. Bow-street term, A.D. 1785.
Sharp. Subtle, acute, quick-witted; also a sharper or cheat, in opposition to a flat, dupe, or gull. Sharp’s the word and quick’s the motion with him; said of any one very attentive to his own interest, and apt to take all advantages. Sharp set; hungry.
Sharper. A cheat, one that lives by his wits. Sharpers tools; a fool and false dice.
Shaver. A cunning shaver; a subtle fellow, one who trims close, an acute cheat. A young shaver; a boy. Sea term.
Shavings. The clippings of money.
She house. A house where the wife rules, or, as the term is, wears the breeches.
She lion. A shilling.
She napper. A woman thief-catcher; also a bawd or pimp.
Sheep’s head. Like a sheep’s head, all jaw; saying of a talkative man or woman.
Sheepish. Bashful. A sheepish fellow; a bashful or shamefaced fellow. To cast a sheep’s eye at any thing; to look wishfully at it.
Sheepskin fiddler. A drummer.
Shelf. On the shelf, i.e. pawned.
Sheriff’s journeyman. The hangman.
Sheriff’s ball. An execution. To dance at the sheriff’s ball, and loll out one’s tongue at the company; to be hanged, or go to rest in a horse’s night-cap, i.e. a halter.
Sheriff’s bracelets. Handcuffs.
Sheriff’s hotel. A prison.
Sheriff’s picture frame. The gallows.
To sherk. To evade or disappoint: to sherk one’s duty.
To sherry. To run away: sherry off.
Shifting. Shuffling. Tricking. Shifting cove; i.e. a person who lives by tricking.
Shifting ballast. A term used by sailors, to signify soldiers, passengers, or any landsmen on board.
Shillaley. An oaken sapling, or cudgel: from a wood of that name famous for its oaks. Irish.
Shilly-shally. Irresolute. To stand shilly-shally; to hesitate, or stand in doubt.
Shindy. A dance. Sea phrase.
Shine. It shines like a shitten barn door.
Ship shape. Proper, as it ought to be. Sea phrase,
Sh-t sack. A dastardly fellow: also a non-conformist. This appellation is said to have originated from the following story:— After the restoration, the laws against the non-conformists were extremely severe. They sometimes met in very obscure places: and there is a tradition that one of their congregations were assembled in a barn, the rendezvous of beggars and other vagrants, where the preacher, for want of a ladder or tub, was suspended in a sack fixed to the beam. His discourse that day being on the last judgment, he particularly attempted to describe the terrors of the wicked at the sounding of the trumpet, on which a trumpeter to a puppet-show, who had taken refuge in that barn, and lay hid under the straw, sounded a charge. The congregation, struck with the utmost consternation, fled in an instant from the place, leaving their affrighted teacher to shift for himself. The effects of his terror are said to have appeared at the bottom of the sack, and to have occasioned that opprobrious appellation by which the non-conformists were vulgarly distinguished.
Sh-t-ng through the teeth. Vomiting. Hark ye, friend, have you got a padlock on your a-se, that you sh-te through your teeth? Vulgar address to one vomiting.
Shod all round. A parson who attends a funeral is said to be shod all round, when he receives a hat-band, gloves, and scarf: many shoeings being only partial.
Shoemaker’s stocks. New, or strait shoes. I was in the shoemaker’s stocks; i.e. had on a new pair of shoes that were too small for me.
To shoole. To go skulking about.
To shoot the cat. To vomit from excess of liquor; called also catting.
Shop. A prison. Shopped; confined, imprisoned.
Shoplifter. One that steals whilst pretending to purchase goods in a shop.
Short-heeled wench. A girl apt to fall on her back.
Shot. To pay one’s shot; to pay one’s share of a reckoning. Shot betwixt wind and water; poxed or clapped.
Shotten herring. A thin meagre fellow.
To Shove the tumbler. To be whipped at the cart’s tail.
Shove in the mouth. A dram.
Shovel. To be put to bed with a shovel; to be buried. He or she was fed with a fire-shovel; a saying of a person with a large mouth.
Shoulder feast. A dinner given after a funeral, to those who have carried the corpse.
Shoulder clapper. A bailiff, or member of the catch club. Shoulder-clapped; arrested.
Shoulder sham. A partner to a file. See File.
Shred. A taylor.
Shrimp. A little diminutive person.
To shuffle. To make use of false pretences, or unfair shifts. A shuffling fellow; a slippery shifting fellow.
Shy cock. One who keeps within doors for fear of bailiffs.
Sice. Sixpence.
Sick as a horse. Horses are said to be extremely sick at their stomachs, from being unable to relieve themselves by vomiting. Bracken, indeed, in his Farriery, gives an instance of that evacuation being procured, but by a means which he says would make the Devil vomit. Such as may have occasion to administer an emetic either to the animal or the fiend, may consult his book for the recipe.
Side pocket. He has as much need of a wife as a dog of a side pocket; said of a weak old debilitated man. He wants it as much as a dog does a side pocket; a simile used for one who desires any thing by no means necessary.
Sidledywry. Crooked.
Sign of a house to let. A widow’s weeds.
Sign of the: Five shillings. The crown.
Ten shillings. The two crowns.
Fifteen shillings. The three crowns.
Silence. To silence a man; to knock him down, or stun him. Silence in the court, the cat is pissing; a gird upon any one requiring silence unnecessarily.
Silent flute. See Pego, sugar stick, &c.
Silk snatchers. Thieves who snatch hoods or bonnets from persons walking in the streets.
Silver laced. Replete with lice. The cove’s kickseys are silver laced: the fellow’s breeches are covered with lice.
Simeonites, (at Cambridge,) the followers of the Rev. Charles Simeon, fellow of King’s College, author of Skeletons of Sermons, and preacher at Trinity church; they are in fact rank methodists.
Simkin. A foolish fellow.
Simon. Sixpence. Simple Simon: a natural, a silly fellow; Simon Suck-egg, sold his wife for an addle duck-egg.
To simper. To smile: to simper like a firmity kettle.
Simpleton. Abbreviation of simple Tony or Anthony, a foolish fellow.
Simples. Physical herbs; also follies. He must go to Battersea, to be cut for the simples — Battersea is a place famous for its garden grounds, some of which were formerly appropriated to the growing of simples for apothecaries, who at a certain season used to go down to select their stock for the ensuing year, at which time the gardeners were said to cut their simples; whence it became a popular joke to advise young people to go to Battersea, at that time, to have their simples cut, or to be cut for the simples.
To sing. To call out; the coves sing out beef; they call out stop thief.
To sing small. To be humbled, confounded, or abashed, to have little or nothing to say for one’sself.
Single peeper. A person having but one eye.
Singleton. A very foolish fellow; also a particular kind of nails.
Singleton. A corkscrew, made by a famous cutler of that name, who lived in a place called Hell, in Dublin; his screws are remarkable for their excellent temper.
Sir john. The old title for a country parson: as Sir John of Wrotham, mentioned by Shakespeare.
Sir john barleycorn. Strong beer.
Sir loin. The sur, or upper loin.
Sir reverence. Human excrement, a t — d.
Sir timothy. One who, from a desire of being the head of the company, pays the reckoning, or, as the term is, stands squire. See Squire.
Sitting breeches. One who stays late in company, is said to have his sitting breeches on, or that he will sit longer than a hen.
Six and eight-pence. An attorney, whose fee on several occasions is fixed at that sum.
Six and tips. Whisky and small beer. Irish.
Sixes and sevens. Left at sixes and sevens: i.e. in confusion; commonly said of a room where the furniture, &c. is scattered about; or of a business left unsettled.
Size of ale. Half a pint. Size of bread and cheese; a certain quantity. Sizings: Cambridge term for the college allowance from the buttery, called at Oxford battles.
To Size. (Cambridge) To sup at one’s own expence. If a Man asks you to Sup, he treats you; if to Size, you pay for what you eat — liquors Only being provided by the inviter.
Sizar (Cambridge). Formerly students who came to the University for purposes of study and emolument. But at present they are just as gay and dissipated as their fellow collegians. About fifty years ago they were on a footing with the servitors at Oxford, but by the exertions of the present Bishop of Llandaff, who was himself a sizar, they were absolved from all marks of inferiority or of degradation. The chief difference at present between them and the pensioners, consists in the less amount of their college fees. The saving thus made induces many extravagant fellows to become sizars, that they may have more money to lavish on their dogs, pieces, &c.
Skew. A cup, or beggar’s wooden dish.
Skewvow, or All askew. Crooked, inclining to one side.
Skin. In a bad skin; out of temper, in an ill humour. Thin-skinned: touchy, peevish.
Skin. A purse. Frisk the skin of the stephen; empty the money out of the purse. Queer skin; an empty purse.
Skin flint. An avaricious man or woman,
Skink. To skink, is to wait on the company, ring the bell, stir the fire, and snuff the candles; the duty of the youngest officer in the military mess. See Boots.
Skins. A tanner.
Skip jacks. Youngsters that ride horses on sale, horse-dealers boys. Also a plaything made for children with the breast bone of a goose.
Skip kennel. A footman.
Skipper. A barn. Cant. — Also the captain of a Dutch vessel.
To skit. To wheedle. Cant.
Skit. A joke. A satirical hint.
Skrip. See Scrip.
Skulker. A soldier who by feigned sickness, or other pretences, evades his duty; a sailor who keeps below in time of danger; in the civil line, one who keeps out of the way, when any work is to be done. To skulk; to hide one’s self, to avoid labour or duty.
Sky blue. Gin.
Sky farmers. Cheats who pretend they were farmers in the isle of Sky, or some other remote place, and were ruined by a flood, hurricane, or some such public calamity: or else called sky farmers from their farms being In nubibus, ‘in the clouds.’
Sky parlour. The garret, or upper story.
Slabbering bib. A parson or lawyer’s band.
Slag. A slack-mettled fellow, one not ready to resent an affront.
Slam. A trick; also a game at whist lost without scoring one. To slam to a door; to shut it with violence.
Slamkin. A female sloven, one whose clothes seem hung on with a pitch-fork, a careless trapes.
Slang. A fetter. Double slanged; double ironed. Now double slanged into the cells for a crop he is knocked down; he is double ironed in the condemned cells, and ordered to be hanged.
Slang. Cant language.
Slap-bang shop. A petty cook’s shop, where there is no credit given, but what is had must be paid Down with the Ready slap-bang, i.e. immediately. This is a common appellation for a night cellar frequented by thieves, and sometimes for a stage coach or caravan.
Slapdash. Immediately, instantly, suddenly.
Slasher. A bullying, riotous fellow. Irish.
Slat. Half a crown. Cant.
Slate. A sheet. Cant.
Slater’s pan. The gaol at Kingston in Jamaica: Slater is the deputy Provost-marshal.
Slattern. A woman sluttishly negligent in her dress.
Sleeping partner. A partner in a trade, or shop, who lends his name and money, for which he receives a share of the profit, without doing any part of the business.
Sleepy. Much worn: the cloth of your coat must be extremely sleepy, for it has not had a nap this long time.
Sleeveless errand. A fool’s errand, in search of what it is impossible to find.
Slice. To take a slice; to intrigue, particularly with a married woman, because a slice off a cut loaf is not missed.
Slipgibbet. See Scapegallows.
Slippery chap. One on whom there can be no dependance, a shuffling fellow.
Slipslops. Tea, water-gruel, or any innocent beverage taken medicinally.
Slipslopping. Misnaming and misapplying any hard word; from the character of Mrs. Slipslop, in Fielding’s Joseph Andrews.
Slop. Tea. How the blowens lush the slop. How the wenches drink tea!
Slops. Wearing apparel and bedding used by seamen.
Slop seller. A dealer in those articles, who keeps a slop shop.
Slouch. A stooping gait, a negligent slovenly fellow. To slouch; to hang down one’s head. A slouched hat: a hat whose brims are let down.
Slubber de gullion. A dirty nasty fellow.
Slug. A piece of lead of any shape, to be fired from a blunderbuss. To fire a slug; to drink a dram.
Slug-a-bed. A drone, one that cannot rise in the morning.
Sluice your gob. Take a hearty drink.
Slur. To slur, is a method of cheating at dice: also to cast a reflection on any one’s character, to scandalize.
Slush. Greasy dish-water, or the skimmings of a pot where fat meat has been boiled.
Slush bucket. A foul feeder, one that eats much greasy food.
Sly boots. A cunning fellow, under the mask of simplicity.
Smabbled, or Snabbled. Killed in battle.
To smack. To kiss. I had a smack at her muns: I kissed her mouth. To smack calves skin; to kiss the book, i.e. to take an oath. The queer cuffin bid me smack calves skin, but I only bussed my thumb; the justice bid me kiss the book, but I only kissed my thumb.
Smacksmooth. Level with the surface, every thing cut away.
Smacking cove. A coachman.
Small clothes. Breeches: a gird at the affected delicacy of the present age; a suit being called coat, waistcoat, and articles, or small clothes.
Smart. Spruce, fine: as smart as a carrot new scraped.
Smart money. Money allowed to soldiers or sailors for the loss of a limb, or other hurt received in the service.
Smasher. A person who lives by passing base coin. The cove was fined in the steel for smashing; the fellow was ordered to be imprisoned in the house of correction for uttering base coin.
Smash. Leg of mutton and smash: a leg of mutton and mashed turnips. Sea term.
To smash. To break; also to kick down stairs. Cant. To smash. To pass counterfeit money.
Smear. A plasterer.
Smear gelt. A bribe. German.
Smeller. A nose. Smellers: a cat’s whiskers.
Smelling cheat. An orchard, or garden; also a nosegay. Cant.
Smelts. Half guineas. Cant.
Smicket. A smock, or woman’s shift.
Smirk. A finical spruce fellow. To smirk; to smile, or look pleasantly.
Smiter. An arm. To smite one’s tutor; to get money from him. Academic term.
Smithfield bargain. A bargain whereby the purchaser is taken in. This is likewise frequently used to express matches or marriages contracted solely on the score of interest, on one or both sides, where the fair sex are bought and sold like cattle in Smithfield.
Smock-faced. Fair faced.
To smoke. To observe, to suspect.
Smoker. A tobacconist.
Smoky. Curious, suspicious, inquisitive.
Smouch. Dried leaves of the ash tree, used by the smugglers for adulterating the black or bohea teas.
Smous. A German Jew.
Smug. A nick name for a blacksmith; also neat and spruce.
Smug lay. Persons who pretend to be smugglers of lace and valuable articles; these men borrow money of publicans by depositing these goods in their hands; they shortly decamp, and the publican discovers too late that he has been duped; and on opening the pretended treasure, he finds trifling articles of no value.
Smuggling ken. A bawdy-house.
To smush. To snatch, or seize suddenly.
Smut. Bawdy. Smutty story; an indecent story.
Smut. A copper. A grate. Old iron. The cove was lagged for a smut: the fellow was transported for stealing a copper.
Snack. A share. To go snacks; to be partners.
To snabble. To rifle or plunder; also to kill.
Snaffler. A highwayman. Snaffler of prances; a horse stealer.
To snaffle. To steal. To snaffle any ones poll; to steal his wig.
Snaggs. Large teeth; also snails.
Snakesman. See Little snakesman.
Snap dragon. A Christmas gambol: raisins and almonds being put into a bowl of brandy, and the candles extinguished, the spirit is set on fire, and the company scramble for the raisins.
To snap the glaze. To break shop windows or show glasses.
Snappers. Pistols.
Snapt. Taken, caught.
Snatch cly. A thief who snatches women’s pockets.
Sneak. A pilferer. Morning sneak; one who pilfers early in the morning, before it is light. Evening sneak; an evening pilferer. Upright sneak: one who steals pewter pots from the alehouse boys employed to collect them. To go upon the sneak; to steal into houses whose doors are carelessly left open. Cant.
Sneaker. A small bowl.
Sneaking budge. One that robs alone.
Sneaksby. A mean-spirited fellow, a sneaking cur.
Sneering. Jeering, flickering, laughing in scorn.
Snicker. A glandered horse.
To snicker, or Snigger. To laugh privately, or in one’s sleeve.
To snilch. To eye, or look at any thing attentively: the cull snilches. Cant.
Snip. A taylor.
Snitch. To turn snitch, or snitcher; to turn informer.
To snite. To wipe, or slap. Snite his snitch; wipe his nose, i.e. give him a good knock.
To snivel. To cry, to throw the snot or snivel about. Snivelling; crying. A snivelling fellow; one that whines or complains.
To snoach. To speak through the nose, to snuffle.
Snob. A nick name for a shoemaker.
To snooze, or Snoodge. To sleep. To snooze with a mort; to sleep with a wench. Cant.
Snoozing ken. A brothel. The swell was spiced in a snoozing ken of his screens; the gentleman was robbed of his bank notes in a brothel.
Snow. Linen hung out to dry or bleach. Spice the snow; to steal the linen.
Snout. A hogshead. Cant.
Snowball. A jeering appellation for a negro.
To snub. To check, or rebuke.
Snub devil. A parson.
Snub nose. A short nose turned up at the end.
Snudge. A thief who hides himself under a bed, in Order to rob the house.
Snuff. To take snuff; to be offended.
To snuffle. To speak through the nose.
Snuffles. A cold in the head, attended with a running at the nose.
Snug. All’s snug; all’s quiet.
To soak. To drink. An old soaker; a drunkard, one that moistens his clay to make it stick together.
Socket money. A whore’s fee, or hire: also money paid for a treat, by a married man caught in an intrigue.
Soldier’s bottle. A large one.
Soldier’s mawnd. A pretended soldier, begging with a counterfeit wound, which he pretends to have received at some famous siege or battle.
Soldier’s pomatum. A piece of tallow candle.
Soldier. A red herring.
Solfa. A parish clerk.
Solo player. A miserable performer on any instrument, who always plays alone, because no one will stay in the room to hear him.
Solomon. The mass. Cant.
Son of prattlement. A lawyer.
Song. He changed his song; he altered his account or evidence. It was bought for an old song, i.e. very cheap. His morning and his evening song do not agree; he tells a different story.
Sooterkin. A joke upon the Dutch women, supposing that, by their constant use of stoves, which they place under their petticoats, they breed a kind of small animal in their bodies, called a sooterkin, of the size of a mouse, which when mature slips out.
Sop. A bribe. A sop for Cerberus; a bribe for a porter, turnkey, or gaoler.
Soph. (Cambridge) An undergraduate in his second year.
Sorrel. A yellowish red. Sorrel pate; one having red hair.
Sorrow shall be his sops. He shall repent this. Sorrow go by me; a common expletive used by presbyterians in Ireland.
Sorry. Vile, mean, worthless. A sorry fellow, or hussy; a worthless man or woman.
Sot weed. Tobacco.
Soul case. The body. He made a hole in his soul case; he wounded him.
Soul doctor, or Driver. A parson.
Sounders. A herd of swine.
Souse. Not a souse; not a penny. French.
Sow. A fat woman. He has got the wrong sow by the ear, he mistakes his man. Drunk as David’s sow; see David’s Sow.
Sow’s baby. A sucking pig.
Sow child. A female child.
Spado. A sword. Spanish.
Spangle. A seven shilling piece.
Spank. (Whip) To run neatly along, beteeen a trot and gallop. The tits spanked it to town; the horses went merrily along all the way to town.
Spanish. The spanish; ready money.
Spanish coin. Fair words and compliments.
Spanish faggot. The sun.
Spanish gout. The pox.
Spanish padlock. A kind of girdle contrived by jealous husbands of that nation, to secure the chastity of their wives.
Spanish, or King of spain’s trumpeter. An ass when braying.
Spanish worm. A nail: so called by carpenters when they meet with one in a board they are sawing.
Spanks, or Spankers. Money; also blows with the open hand.
Spanking. Large.
Spark. A spruce, trim, or smart fellow. A man that is always thirsty, is said to have a spark in his throat.
Sparkish. Fine, gay.
Sparking blows. Blows given by cocks before they close, or, as the term is, mouth it: used figuratively for words previous to a quarrel.
Sparrow. Mumbling a sparrow; a cruel sport frequently practised at wakes and fairs: for a small premium, a booby having his hands tied behind him, has the wing of a cock sparrow put into his mouth: with this hold, without any other assistance than the motion of his lips, he is to get the sparrow’s head into his mouth: on attempting to do it, the bird defends itself surprisingly, frequently pecking the mumbler till his lips are covered with blood, and he is obliged to desist: to prevent the bird from getting away, he is fastened by a string to a button of the booby’s coat.
Sparrow-mouthed. Wide-mouthed, like the mouth of a sparrow: it is said of such persons, that they do not hold their mouths by lease, but have it from year to year; i.e. from ear to ear. One whose mouth cannot be enlarged without removing their ears, and who when they yawn have their heads half off.
Spatch cock. [Abbreviation of Dispatch cock.] A hen just killed from the roost, or yard, and immediately skinned, split, and broiled: an Irish dish upon any sudden occasion.
To speak with. To rob. I spoke with the cull on the cherry-coloured prancer; I robbed the man on the black horse. Cant.
Speak. Any thing stolen. He has made a good speak; he has stolen something considerable.
Specked whiper. A coloured hankerchief. Cant.
Spice. To rob. Spice the swell; rob the gentleman.
Spice islands. A privy. Stink-hole bay or dilberry creek. The fundament.
Spider-shanked. Thin-legged.
To spiflicate. To confound, silence, or dumbfound.
Spilt. A small reward or gift.
Spilt. Thrown from a horse, or overturned in a carriage; pray, coachee, don’t spill us.
Spindle shanks. Slender legs.
To spirit away. To kidnap, or inveigle away.
Spiritual flesh broker. A parson.
Spit. He is as like his father as if he was spit out of his mouth; said of a child much resembling his father.
Spit. A sword.
Spit fire. A violent, pettish, or passionate person.
Spliced. Married: an allusion to joining two ropes ends by splicing. Sea term.
Split crow. The sign of the spread eagle, which being represented with two heads on one neck, gives it somewhat the appearance of being split.
Split cause. A lawyer.
Split fig. A grocer.
Split iron. The nick-name for a smith.
Spooney. (Whip) Thin, haggard, like the shank of a spoon; also delicate, craving for something, longing for sweets. Avaricious. That tit is damned spooney. She’s a spooney piece of goods. He’s a spooney old fellow.
Spoil pudding. A parson who preaches long sermons, keeping his congregation in church till the puddings are overdone.
To sport. To exhibit: as, Jack Jehu sported a new gig yesterday: I shall sport a new suit next week. To sport or flash one’s ivory; to shew one’s teeth. To sport timber; to keep one’s outside door shut; this term is used in the inns of court to signify denying one’s self. N.B. The word Sport was in great vogue ann. 1783 and 1784.
Spunge. A thirsty fellow, a great drinker. To spunge; to eat and drink at another’s cost. Spunging-house: a bailiff’s lock-up-house, or repository, to which persons arrested are taken, till they find bail, or have spent all their money: a house where every species of fraud and extortion is practised under the protection of the law.
Spunk. Rotten touchwood, or a kind of fungus prepared for tinder; figuratively, spirit, courage.
Spoon hand. The right hand.
To spout. To rehearse theatrically.
Spouting club. A meeting of apprentices and mechanics to rehearse different characters in plays: thus forming recruits for the strolling companies.
Spouting. Theatrical declamation.
Spouted. Pawned.
Spread. Butter.
Spread eagle. A soldier tied to the halberts in order to be whipped; his attitude bearing some likeness to that figure, as painted on signs.
Spree. A frolic. Fun. A drinking bout. A party of pleasure.
Spring-ankle warehouse. Newgate, or any other gaol: Irish.
Squab. A fat man or woman: from their likeness to a well-stuffed couch, called also a squab. A new-hatched chicken.
Square. Honest, not roguish. A square cove, i.e. a man who does not steal, or get his living by dishonest means.
Square toes. An old man: square toed shoes were anciently worn in common, and long retained by old men.
Squeak. A narrow escape, a chance: he had a squeak for his life. To squeak; to confess, peach, or turn stag. They squeak beef upon us; they cry out thieves after us. Cant.
Squeaker. A bar-boy; also a bastard or any other child. To stifle the squeaker; to murder a bastard, or throw It into the necessary house. — Organ pipes are likewise called squeakers. The squeakers are meltable; the small pipes are silver. Cant.
Squeeze crab. A sour-looking, shrivelled, diminutive fellow.
Squeeze wax. A good-natured foolish fellow, ready to become security for another, under hand and seal.
Squelch. A fall. Formerly a bailiff caught in a barrack-yard in Ireland, was liable by custom to have three tosses in a blanket, and a squelch; the squelch was given by letting go the corners of the blanket, and suffering him to fall to the ground. Squelch-gutted; fat, having a prominent belly.
Squib. A small satirical or political temporary jeu d’esprit, which, like the firework of that denomination, sparkles, bounces, stinks, and vanishes.
Squint-a-pipes. A squinting man or woman; said to be born in the middle of the week, and looking both ways for Sunday; or born in a hackney coach, and looking out of both windows; fit for a cook, one eye in the pot, and the other up the chimney; looking nine ways at once.
Squire of alsatia. A weak profligate spendthrift, the squire of the company; one who pays the whole reckoning, or treats the company, called standing squire.
Squirish. Foolish.
Squirrel. A prostitute: because she like that animal, covers her back with her tail. Meretrix corpore corpus alit. Menagiana, ii. 128.
Squirrel hunting. See Hunting.
Stag. To turn stag; to impeach one’s confederates: from a herd of deer, who are said to turn their horns against any of their number who is hunted.
To stag. To find, discover, or observe.
Staggering bob, with his yellow pumps. A calf just dropped, and unable to stand, killed for veal in Scotland: the hoofs of a young calf are yellow.
Stall whimper. A bastard. Cant.
Stalling. Making or ordaining. Stalling to the rogue; an ancient ceremony of instituting a candidate into the society of rogues, somewhat similar to the creation of a herald at arms. It is thus described by Harman: the upright man taking a gage of bowse, i.e. a pot of strong drink, pours it on the head of the rogue to be admitted; saying — I, A.B. do stall thee B.C. to the rogue; and from henceforth it shall be lawful for thee to cant for thy living in all places.
Stalling ken. A broker’s shop, or that of a receiver of stolen goods.
Stallion. A man kept by an old lady for secret services.
Stam flesh. To cant. Cant.
Stammel, or Strammel. A coarse brawny wench.
Stamp. A particular manner of throwing the dice out of the box, by striking it with violence against the table.
Stamps. Legs.
Stand-still. He was run to a stand-still; i.e. till he could no longer move.
Star gazer. A horse who throws up his head; also a hedge whore.
To star the glaze. To break and rob a jeweller’s show glass. Cant.
Starched. Stiff, prim, formal, affected.
Staring quarter. An ox cheek.
Start, or The old start. Newgate: he is gone to the start, or the old start. Cant.
Starter. One who leaves a jolly company, a milksop; he is no starter, he will sit longer than a hen.
Starve’em, rob’em, and cheat’em. Stroud, Rochester, and Chatham; so called by soldiers and sailors, and not without good reason.
Star lag. Breaking shop-windows, and stealing some article thereout.
Stash. To stop. To finish. To end. The cove tipped the prosecutor fifty quid to stash the business; he gave the prosecutor fifty guineas to stop the prosecution.
State. To lie in state; to be in bed with three harlots.
Stay. A cuckold.
Staytape. A taylor; from that article, and its coadjutor buckram, which make no small figure in the bills of those knights of the needle.
Steamer. A pipe. A swell steamer; a long pipe, such as is used by gentlemen to smoke.
Steel. The house of correction.
Steel bar. A needle. A steel bar flinger; a taylor, stay-maker, or any other person using a needle.
Steenkirk. A muslin neckcloth carelessly put on, from the manner in which the French officers wore their cravats when they returned from the battle of Steenkirk.
Steeple house. A name given to the church by Dissenters.
Stephen. Money. Stephen’s at home; i.e. has money.
Stepney. A decoction of raisins of the sun and lemons in conduit water, sweetened with sugar, and bottled up.
Stewed quaker. Burnt rum, with a piece of butter: an American remedy for a cold.
Sticks. Household furniture.
Sticks. Pops or pistols. Stow your sticks; hide your pistols. Cant. See Pops.
Stick flams. A pair of gloves.
Stiff-rumped. Proud, stately.
Stingo. Strong beer, or other liquor.
Stirrup cup. A parting cup or glass, drank on horseback by the person taking leave.
Stitch. A nick name for a taylor: also a term for lying with a woman.
Stitchback. Strong ale.
Stiver-cramped. Needy, wanting money. A stiver is a Dutch coin, worth somewhat more than a penny sterling.
Stock. A good stock; i.e. of impudence. Stock and block; the whole: he has lost stock and block.
Stock drawers. Stockings.
Stock jobbers. Persons who gamble in Exchange Alley, by pretending to buy and sell the public funds, but in reality only betting that they will be at a certain price, at a particular time; possessing neither the stock pretended to be sold, nor money sufficient to make good the payments for which they contract: these gentlemen are known under the different appellations of bulls, bears, and lame ducks.
Stomach worm. The stomach worm gnaws; I am hungry.
Stone. Two stone under weight, or wanting; an eunuch. Stone doublet; a prison. Stone dead; dead as a stone.
Stone jug. Newgate, or any other prison.
Stone tavern. Ditto.
Stoop-nappers, or Overseers of the new pavement. Persons set in the pillory. Cant.
Stoop. The pillory. The cull was served for macing and napp’d the stoop; he was convicted of swindling, and put in the pillory.
Stop hole abbey. The nick name of the chief rendzvous of the canting crew of beggars, gypsies, cheats, thieves, &c. &c.
Stoter. A great blow. Tip him a stoter in the haltering place; give him a blow under the left ear.
Stoup. A vessel to hold liquor: a vessel containing a size or half a pint, is so called at Cambridge.
Stow. Stow you; be silent, or hold your peace. Stow your whidds and plant’em, for the cove of the ken can cant’em; you have said enough, the man of the house understands you.
Strait-laced. Precise, over nice, puritanical.
Strait waistcoat. A tight waistcoat, with long sleeves coming over the hand, having strings for binding them behind the back of the wearer: these waistcoats are used in madhouses for the management of lunatics when outrageous.
Strammel. See Stammel.
Stranger. A guinea.
Strangle goose. A poulterer.
To Strap. To work. The kiddy would not strap, so he went on the scamp: the lad would not work, and therefore robbed on the highway.
Strapper. A large man or woman.
Strapping. Lying with a woman. Cant.
Straw. A good woman in the straw; a lying-in woman. His eyes draw straw; his eyes are almost shut, or he is almost asleep: one eye draws straw, and t’other serves the thatcher.
Stretch. A yard. The cove was lagged for prigging a peter with several stretch of dobbin from a drag; the fellow was transported for stealing a trunk, containing several yards of ribband, from a waggon.
Stretching. Hanging. He’ll stretch for it; he will be hanged for it. Also telling a great lie: he stretched stoutly.
Strike. Twenty shillings. Cant.
Stroke. To take a stroke: to take a bout with a woman.
Strollers. Itinerants of different kinds. Strolling morts; beggars or pedlars pretending to be widows.
Strommel. Straw. Cant.
Strong man. To play the part of the strong man, i.e. to push the cart and horses too; to be whipt at the cart’s tail.
Strum. A perriwig. Rum strum: a fine large wig. (Cambridge) To do a piece. Foeminam subagitare. Cant.
To Strum. To have carnal knowledge of a woman; also to play badly on the harpsichord; or any other stringed instrument. A strummer of wire, a player on any instrument strung with wire.
Strumpet. A harlot.
Stub-faced. Pitted with the smallpox: the devil ran over his face with horse stabs (horse nails) in his shoes.
Stubble it. Hold your tongue. Cant.
Stuling ken. See Stalling ken. Cant.
Stum. The flower of fermenting wine, used by vintners to adulterate their wines.
Stumps. Legs. To stir one’s stumps; to walk fast.
Sturdy beggars. The fifth and last of the most ancient order of canters, beggars that rather demand than ask Cant.
Successfully. Used by the vulgar for Successively: as three or four landlords of this house have been ruined successfully by the number of soldiers quartered on them. Irish.
Such a reason pist my goose, or My goose pist. Said when any one offers an absurd reason.
Suck. Strong liquor of any sort. To suck the monkey; see Monkey. Sucky; drunk.
To Suck. To pump. To draw from a man all be knows. The file sucked the noodle’s brains: the deep one drew out of the fool all he knew.
Sucking chicken. A young chicken.
Suds. In the suds; in trouble, in a disagreeable situation, or involved in some difficulty.
Sugar stick. The virile member.
Sugar sops. Toasted bread soked in ale, sweetened with sugar, and grated nutmeg: it is eaten with cheese.
Sulky. A one-horse chaise or carriage, capable of holding but one person: called by the French a Desobligeant.
Sun. To have been in the sun; said of one that is drunk.
Sunburnt. Clapped; also haying many male children.
Sunday man. One who goes abroad on that day only, for fear of arrests.
Sunny bank. A good fire in winter.
Sunshine. Prosperity.
Supernacolum. Good liquor, of which there is not even a drop left sufficient to wet one’s nail.
Supouch. A landlady of an inn, or hostess.
Surveyor of the highways. One reeling drunk.
Surveyor of the pavement. One standing in the pillory.
Sus per coll. Hanged: persons who have been hanged are thus entered into the jailor’s books.
Suspence. One in a deadly suspence; a man just turned off at the gallows.
Sutrer. A camp publican: also one that pilfers gloves, tobacco boxes, and such small moveables.
Swabbers. The ace of hearts, knave of clubs, ace and duce of trumps, at whist: also the lubberly seamen, put to swab, and clean the ship.
Swad, or Swadkin. A soldier. Cant.
To Swaddle. To beat with a stick.
Swaddlers. The tenth order of the canting tribe, who not only rob, but beat, and often murder passenges. Cant. Swaddlers is also the Irish name for methodist.
Swag. A shop. Any quantity of goods. As, plant the swag; conceal the goods. Rum swag; a shop full of rich goods. Cant.
Swagger. To bully, brag, or boast, also to strut.
Swannery. He keeps a swannery; i.e. all his geese are swans.
Sweating. A mode of diminishing the gold coin, practiced chiefly by the Jews, who corrode it with aqua regia. Sweating was also a diversion practised by the bloods of the last century, who styled themselves Mohocks: these gentlemen lay in wait to surprise some person late in the night, when surrouding him, they with their swords pricked him in the posteriors, which obliged him to be constantly turning round; this they continued till they thought him sufficiently sweated.
Sweet. Easy to be imposed on, or taken in; also expert, dexterous clever. Sweet’s your hand; said of one dexterous at stealing.
Sweet heart. A term applicable to either the masculine or feminine gender, signifying a girl’s lover, or a man’s mistress: derived from a sweet cake in the shape of a heart.
Sweetness. Guinea droppers, cheats, sharpers. To sweeten to decoy, or draw in. To be sweet upon; to coax, wheedle, court, or allure. He seemed sweet upon that wench; he seemed to court that girl.
Swell. A gentleman. A well-dressed map. The flashman bounced the swell of all his blunt; the girl’s bully frightened the gentleman out of all his money.
Swelled head. A disorder to which horses are extremely liable, particularly those of the subalterns of the army. This disorder is generally occasioned by remaining too long in one livery-stable or inn, and often arises to that height that it prevents their coming out at the stable door. The most certain cure is the unguentum aureum — not applied to the horse, but to the palm of the master of the inn or stable. N. B. Neither this disorder, nor its remedy, is mentioned by either Bracken, Bartlet, or any of the modern writers on farriery.
Swig. A hearty draught of liquor.
Swigmen. Thieves who travel the country under colour of buying old shoes, old clothes, &c. or selling brooms, mops, &c. Cant.
To swill. To drink greedily.
Swill tub. A drunkard, a sot.
Swimmer. A counterfeit old coin.
Swimmer. A ship. I shall have a swimmer; a cant phrase used by thieves to signify that they will be sent on board the tender.
To swing. To be hanged. He will swing for it; he will be hanged for it.
Swing tail. A hog.
To swinge. To beat stoutly.
Swinging. A great swinging fellow; a great stout fellow. A swinging lie; a lusty lie.
Swindler. One who obtains goods on credit by false pretences, and sells them for ready money at any price, in order to make up a purse. This name is derived from the German word Schwindlin, to totter, to be ready to fall; these arts being generally practised by persons on the totter, or just ready to break. The term Swindler has since been used to signify cheats of every kind.
Swipes. Purser’s swipes; small beer: so termed on board the king’s ships, where it is furnished by the purser.
Swish tail. A pheasant; so called by the persons who sell game for the poachers.
To swive. To copulate.
Swivel-eyed. Squinting.
Swizzle. Drink, or any brisk or windy liquor. In North America, a mixture of spruce beer, rum, and sugar, was so called. The 17th regiment had a society called the Swizzle Club, at Ticonderoga, A. D. 1760.
Sword racket. To enlist in different regiments, and on receiving the bounty to desert immediately.
Swop. An exchange.
Syebuck. Sixpence.
Syntax. A schoolmaster.
Tabby. An old maid; either from Tabitha, a formal antiquated name; or else from a tabby cat, old maids being often compared to cats. To drive Tab; to go out on a party of pleasure with a wife and family.
Tace. Silence, hold your tongue. Tace is Latin for a candle; a jocular admonition to be silent on any subject.
Tackle. A mistress; also good clothes. The cull has tipt his tackle rum gigging; the fellow has given his mistress good clothes. A man’s tackle: the genitals.
Taffy, i.e. Davy. A general name for a Welchman, St. David being the tutelar saint of Wales. Taffy’s day; the first of March, St. David’s day.
Tag-rag and bobtail. An expression meaning an assemblage of low people, the mobility of all sorts. To tag after one like a tantony pig: to follow one wherever one goes, just as St. Anthony is followed by his pig.
Tail. A prostitute. Also, a sword.
Taken in. Imposed on, cheated.
Tale tellers. Persons said to have been formerly hired to tell wonderful stories of giants and fairies, to lull their hearers to sleep. Talesman; the author of a story or report: I’ll tell you my tale, and my talesman. Tale bearers; mischief makers, incendiaries in families.
Tall boy. A bottle, or two-quart pot.
Tally men. Brokers that let out clothes to the women of the town. See Rabbit suckers.
Tallywags, or Tarrywags. A man’s testicles.
Tame. To run tame about a house; to live familiarly in a family with which one is upon a visit. Tame army; the city trained bands.
Tandem. A two-wheeled chaise, buggy, or noddy, drawn by two horses, one before the other: that is, At length.
Tangier. A room in Newgate, where debtors were confined, hence called Tangerines.
Tanner. A sixpence. The kiddey tipped the rattling cove a tanner for luck; the lad gave the coachman sixpence for drink.
Tantadlin tart. A sirreverence, human excrement.
Tantrums. Pet, or passion: madam was in her tantrums.
Tantwivy. Away they went tantwivy; away they went full speed. Tantwivy was the sound of the hunting horn in full cry, or that of a post horn.
Tap. A gentle blow. A tap on the shoulder;-an-arrest. To tap a girl; to be the first seducer: in allusion to a beer barrel. To tap a guinea; to get it changed.
Tappers. Shoulder tappers: bailiffs.
Tape. Red tape; brandy. Blue or white tape; gin.
Taplash. Thick and bad beer.
Tar. Don’t lose a sheep for a halfpennyworth of tar: tar is used to mark sheep. A jack tar; a sailor.
Taradiddle. A fib, or falsity.
Tarpawlin. A coarse cloth tarred over: also, figuratively, a sailor.
Tarring and feathering. A punishment lately infliced by the good people of Boston on any person convicted, or suspected, of loyalty: such delinquents being “stripped naked”, were daubed all over wilh tar, and afterwards put into a hogshead of feathers.
Tart. Sour, sharp, quick, pert.
Tartar. To catch a Tartar; to attack one of superior strength or abilities. This saying originated from a story of an Irish-soldier in the Imperial service, who, in a battle against the Turks, called out to his comrade that he had caught a Tartar. ‘Bring him along then,’ said he. ‘He won’t come,’ answered Paddy. ‘Then come along yourself,’ replied his comrade. ‘Arrah,’ cried he, ‘but he won’t let me.’— A Tartar is also an adept at any feat, or game: he is quite a Tartar at cricket, or billiards.
Tat. Tit for tat; an equivalent.
Tats. False dice.
Tatler. A watch. To flash a tatler: to wear a watch.
Tat monger. One that uses false dice.
Tatterdemalion. A ragged fellow, whose clothes hang all in tatters.
Tattoo. A beat of the drum, of signal for soldiers to go to their quarters, and a direction to the sutlers to close the tap, anddtew nomore liquor for them; it is generally beat at nine in summer and eight in winter. The devil’s tattoo; beating with one’s foot against the ground, as done by persons in low spirits.
Taw. A schoolboy’s game, played with small round balls made of stone dust, catted marbles. I’ll be one upon your taw presently; a species of threat.
Tawdry. Garish, gawdy, with lace or staring and discordant colours: a term said to be derived from the shrine and altar of St. Audrey (an Isle of Ely saintess), which for finery exceeded all others thereabouts, so as to become proverbial; whence any fine dressed man or woman said to be all St Audrey, and by contraction, all tawdry.
Tawed. Beaten,
Tayle. See Tail.
Tayle drawers. Thieves who snatch gentlemens swords from their sides. He drew the cull’s tayle rumly; he snatched away the gentleman’s sword cleverly.
Taylor. Nine taylors make a man; an ancient and common saying, originating from the effeminacy of their employment; or, as some have it, from nine taylors having been robbed by one man; according to others, from the speech of a woollendraper, meaning that the custom of nine, taylors would make or enrich one man — A London taylor, rated to furnish half a man to the Trained Bands, asking how that could possibly be done? was answered, By sending four, journeymen and and apprentice. — Puta taylor, a weaver, and a miller into a sack, shake them well, And the first that, puts out his head is certainly a thief. — A taylor is frequently styled pricklouse, assaults on those vermin with their needles.
Taylors goose. An iron with which, when heated, press down the seams of clothes.
Tea voider. A chamber pot.
Tea gueland. Ireland. Teaguelanders; Irishmen.
Tears of the tankard. The drippings of liquor on a man’s waistcoat.
Teddy my godson. An address to a supposed simple fellow, or nysey,
Teize. To-nap the teize; to receive a whipping. Cant.
Temple pickling. Pumping a bailiff; a punishment formerly administered to any of that fraternity caught exercising their functions within the limits of Temple.
Ten toes. See Bayard of ten toes.
Ten in the hundred. An usurer; more than five in the hundred being deemed usurious interest.
Tenant at will, One whose wife usually fetches him from the alehouse.
Tenant for life. A married man; i.e. possessed of a woman for life.
Tender parnell. A tender creature, fearful of the least puff of wind or drop of rain. As tender as Parnell, who broke her finger in a posset drink.
Termagant. An outrageous scold from Termagantes, a cruel Pagan, formerly represented in diners shows and entertainments, where being dressed a la Turque, in long clothes, he was mistaken for a furious woman.
Terra firma. An estate in land.
Tester. A sixpence: from Teston, a coin with a head on it.
Tetbury portion. A **** and a clap.
Thames. He will not find out a way to set the Thames on fire; he will not make any wonderful discoveries, he is no conjuror.
Thatch-gallows. A rogue, or man of bad character.
Thick. Intimate. They are as thick as two inkle-weavers.
Thief. You are a thief and a murderer, you have killed a baboon and stole his face; vulgar abuse.
Thief in a candle. Part of the wick or snuff, which falling on the tallow, burns and melts it, and causing it to gutter, thus steals it away.
Thief takers. Fellows who associate with all kinds of villains, in order to betray them, when they have committed any of those crimes which entitle the persons taking them to a handsome reward, called blood money. It is the business of these thief takers to furnish subjects for a handsome execution, at the end of every sessions.
Thimble. A watch. The swell flashes a rum thimble; the gentleman sports a fine watch.
Thingstable. Mr. Thingstable; Mr. Constable: a ludicrous affectation of delicacy in avoiding the pronunciation of the first syllable in the title of that officer, which in sound has some similarity to an indecent monosyllable.
Thingumbob. Mr. Thingumbob; a vulgar address or nomination to any person whose name is unknown, the same as Mr. What-d’ye-cal’em. Thingumbobs; testicles.
Thirding. A custom practised at the universities, where two thirds of the original price is allowed by the upholsterers to the students for household goods returned to them within the year.
Thirteener. A shilling in Ireland, which there passes for thirteen pence.
Thomond. Like Lord Thomond’s cocks, all on one side. Lord Thomond’s cock-feeder, an Irishman, being entrusted with some cocks which were matched for a considerable sum, the night before the battle shut them all together in one room, concluding that as they were all on the same side, they would not disagree: the consequence was, they were most of them either killed or lamed before the morning.
Thomas. Man Thomas; a man’s penis.
Thorns. To be or sit upon thorns; to be uneasy, impatient, anxious for an event.
Thornback. An old maid.
Thorough churchman. A person who goes in at one door of a church, and out at the other, without stopping.
Thorough-good-natured wench. One who being asked to sit down, will lie down.
Thorough go nimble. A looseness, a violent purging.
Thorough cough. Coughing and breaking wind backwards at the same time.
Thorough stitch. To go thorough stitch; to stick at nothing; over shoes, over boots.
Thought. What did thought do? lay’in bed and beshat himself, and thought he was up; reproof to any one who excuses himself for any breach of positive orders, by pleading that he thought to the contrary.
Three to one. He is playing three to one, though sure to lose; said of one engaged in the amorous congress.
Three-penny upright. A retailer of love, who, for the sum mentioned, dispenses her favours standing against a wall.
Three-legged mare, or Stool. The gallows, formerly consisting of three posts, over which were laid three transverse beams. This clumsy machine has lately given place to an elegant contrivance, called the New drop, by which the use of that vulgar vehicle a cart, or mechanical instrument a ladder, is also avoided; the patients being left suspended by the dropping down of that part of the floor on which they stand. This invention was first made use of for a peer. See Drop.
Three threads. Half common ale, mixed with stale and double beer.
Threps. Threepence.
To throttle. To strangle.
Throttle. The throat, or gullet.
To thrum. To play on any instrument sttfnged with wire. A thrummer of wire; a player on the spinet, harpsichord, of guitar.
Thrums. Threepence.
Thumb. By rule of thumb: to do any thing by dint of practice. To kiss one’s thumb instead of the book; a vulgar expedient to avoid perjury in taking a false oath.
Thummikins. An instrument formerly used in Scotland, like a vice, to pinch the thumbs of persons accused of different crimes, in order to extort confession.
Thump. A blow. This is better than a thump on the back with a stone; said on giving any one a drink of good liquor on a cold morning. Thatch, thistle, thunder, and thump; words to the Irish, like the Shibboleth of the Hebrews.
Thumping. Great! a thumping boy.
Thwack. A great blow with a stick across the shoulders.
Tib. A young lass
Tibby. A cat.
Tib of the buttery. A goose. Cant. Saint Tibb’s evening; the evening of the last day, or day of judgment: he will pay you on St. Tibb’s eve. Irish.
Tick. To run o’tick; take up goods upon trust, to run in debt. Tick; a watch. See sessions papers.
Tickle text. A parson.
Tickle pitckeb. A thirsty fellow, a sot.
Tickle tail. A rod, or schoolmaster. A man’s penis.
Tickrum. A licence.
Tidy. Neat.
Tiffing. Eating or drinking out of meal time, disputing or falling out; also lying with a wench, A tiff of punch, a small bowl of punch.
Tilbuky. Sixpence; so called from its formerly being the fare for Crossing over from Gravesend to Tilbury Fort.
Tilt. To tilt; to fight with a sword. To run full tilt against one; allusion to the ancient tilling with the lance.
Tilter. A sword.
Tim whisky. A light one — horse chaise without a head.
Timber toe. A man with a wooden leg.
Tiny. Little.
To tip. To give or lend. Tip me your daddle; give me your hand. Tip me a hog; give me a shilling. To tip the lion; to flatten a man’s nose with the thumb, and, at the same time to extend his mouth, with the fingers, thereby giving him a sort of lion-like countenauce. To tip the velvet; tonguing woman. To tip all nine; to knock down all the nine pins at once, at the game of bows or skittles: tipping, at these gaines, is slightly touching the tops of the pins with the bowl. Tip; a draught; don’t spoil his tip.
Tip-top. The best: perhaps from fruit, that growing at the top of the tree being generally the best, as partaking most of the sun. A tip-top workman; the best, or most excellent Workman.
Tipperary fortune. Two town lands, stream’s town, and ballinocack; said of Irish women without fortune.
Tipple. Liquor.
Tipplers. Sots who are continually sipping.
Tipsey. Almost drunk.
Tiring. Dressing: perhaps abbreviation of Attiring. Tiring women, or tire women: women that used to cut ladies hair, and dress them.
Tit. A horse; a pretty little tit; a smart little girl. a *** or tid bit; a delicate morsel. Tommy tit; a smart lively little fellow.
Tit for tat. An equivalent.
To titter. To suppress a laugh.
Titter tatter. One reeling, and ready to fall at the least touch; also the childish amusement of riding upon the two ends of a plank, poised upon the prop underneath its centre, called also see-saw. Perhaps tatter is a rustic pronunciation of totter.
Tittle-tattle. Idle discourse, scandal, women’s talk, or small talk.
Tittup. A gentle hand gallop, or canter.
Tizzy. Sixpence.
Toad eater. A poor female relation, and humble companion, or reduced gentlewoman, in a great family, the standing butt, on whom all kinds of practical jokes are played off, and all ill humours vented. This appellation is derived from a mountebank’s servant, on whom all experiments used to be made in public by the doctor, his master; among which was the eating of toads, formerly supposed poisonous. Swallowing toads is here figuratively meant for swallowing or putting up with insults, as disagreeable to a person of feeling as toads to the stomach.
Toad. Toad in a hole; meat baked or boiled in pye-crust. He or she sits like a toad on a chopping-block; a saying of any who sits ill on horseback. As much need of it as a toad of a side-pocket; said of a person who desires any thing for which he has no real occasion. As full of money as a toad is of feathers.
Toast. A health; also a beautiful woman whose health is often drank by men. The origin of this term (as it is said) was this: a beautiful lady bathing in a cold bath, one of her admirers out of gallantry drank some of the water: whereupon another of her lovers observed, he never drank in the morning, but he would kiss the toast, and immediately saluted the lady.
Toasting iron, or Cheese toaster. A sword.
Toby lay. The highway. High toby man; a highway-man. Low toby man; a footpad.
Tobacco. A plant, once in great estimation as a medicine:
Tobacco hic
If you be well will make you sick.
Toddy. Originally the juice of the cocoa tree, and afterwards rum, water, sugar, and nutmeg.
Toddle. To walk away. The cove was touting, but stagging the traps he toddled; be was looking out, and feeing the officers he walked away.
Todge. Beat all to a todge: said of anything beat to mash.
Toge. A coat. Cant.
Togemans. The same. Cant.
Togs. Clothes. The swell is rum-togged. The gentleman is handsomely dressed.
Token. The plague: also the venereal disease. She tipped him the token; she gave him a clap or pox.
Tol, or Toledo. A sword: from Spanish swords made at Toledo, which place was famous for sword blades of an extraordinary temper.
Tolliban rig. A species of cheat carried on by a woman, assuming the character of a dumb and deaf conjuror.
Tom T—Dman. A night man, one who empties necessary houses.
Tomboy. A romping girl, who prefers the amusement used by boys to those of her own sex.
Tom of bedlam. The same as Abram man.
Tom cony. A simple fellow.
Tom long. A tiresome story teller. It is coming by Tom Long, the carrier; said of any thing that has been long expected.
Tom thumb. A dwarf, a little hop-o’my-thumb.
Tommy. Soft Tommy, or white Tommy; bread is so called by sailors, to distinguish it from biscuit. Brown Tommy: ammunition bread for soldiers; or brown bread given to convicts at the hulks.
To-morrow come never. When two Sundays come together; never.
Tongue. Tongue enough for two sets of teeth: said of a talkative person. As old as my tongue, and a little older than my teeth; a dovetail in answer to the question, How old are you? Tongue pad; a scold, or nimble-tongued person.
Tony. A silly fellow, or ninny. A mere tony: a simpleton.
Tools. The private parts of a man.
Tool. The instrument of any person or faction, a cat’s paw. See Cats paw.
Tooth Music. Chewing.
Tooth-pick. A large stick. An ironical expression.
Topper. A violent blow on the head.
Top ropes. To sway away on all top ropes; to live riotously or extravagantly.
To top. To cheat, or trick: also to insult: he thought to have topped upon me. Top; the signal among taylors for snuffing the candles: he who last pronounces that word word, is obliged to get up and perform the operation. — to be topped; to be hanged. The cove was topped for smashing queerscreens; he was hanged for uttering forged bank notes.
Top diver. A lover of women. An old top diver; one who has loved old hat in his time.
Top heavy. Drunk.
Top lights. The eyes. Blast your top lights. See Curse.
Top Sail. He paid his debts at Portsmouth with the topsail; i.e. he went to sea and left them unpaid. Sct soldiers are said to pay off their scores with the drum; that is, by marching away.
Toper. One that loves his bottle, a soaker. See to soak.
Topping fellow. One at the top or head of his profession.
Topping cheat. The gallows. Cant.
Topping cove. The hangman. Cant.
Topping man. A rich man.
Tofsy-turvy. The top side the other way; i.e. the wrong side upwards; some explain it, the top side turf ways, turf being always laid the wrong side upwards.
Torchecul. Bumfodder.
Tormenter of sheep skin. A drummer.
Tormenter of catgut. A fiddler.
Tory. An advocate for absolute monarchy and church power; also an Irish vagabond, robber, Or rapparee.
Toss pot. A drunkard.
Toss off. Manual pollution.
Totty-headed. Giddy, hare-brained.
Touch. To touch; to get money from any one; also to arrest. Touched in the wind; broken winded. Touched in the head; insane, crazy. To touch up a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her. Touch bone and whistle; any one having broken wind backwards, according to the vulgar law, may be pinched by any of the company till he has touched bone (i.e. his teeth) and whistled.
Touch bun for luck. See Bun.
Tovt. A look-out house, or eminence.
Touting. (From Tueri, to look about) Publicans fore-stalling guests, or meeting them on the road, and begging their custom; also thieves or smugglers looking out to see that the coast is clear. Touting ken; the bar of a public house.
Tow row. A grenadier. The tow row club; a club or society of the grenadier officers of the line.
Towel. An oaken towel, a cudgel. To rub one down with an oaken towel; to beat or cudgel him.
Tower. Clipped money: they have been round the tower with it. Cant.
To tower. To overlook, to rise aloft as in a high tower.
Tower hill play. A slap on the face, and a kick on the breech.
Town. A woman of the town; a prostitute. To be on the town: to live by prostitution.
Town bull. A common whoremaster. To roar like a town bull; to cry or bellow aloud.
To track. To go. Track up the dancers; go up stairs. Cant.
Trading justices. Broken mechanics, discharged footmen, and other low fellows, smuggled into the commission of the peace, who subsist by fomenting disputes, granting warrants, and otherwise retailing justice; to the honour of the present times, these nuisances are by no means, so common as formerly.
Tradesmen. Thieves. Clever tradesmen; good thieves.
Translators. Sellers of old mended shoes and boots, between coblers and shoemakers.
To transmography, or Transmigrify. To patch up vamp, or alter.
To transnear. To come up with any body.
Tranter. See Crocker.
Trap. To understand trap; to know one’s own interest.
Trap sticks. Thin legs, gambs: from the sticks with which boys play at trap-ball.
Traps. Constables and thief-takers. Cant.
To trapan. To inveigle, or ensnare.
Trapes. A slatternly woman, a careless sluttish woman.
Traveller. To tip the traveller; to tell wonderful stories, to romance.
Travelling piquet. A mode of amusing themselves, practised by two persons riding in a carriage, each reckoning towards his game the persons or animals that pass by on the side next them, according to the following estimation:
A parson riding a grey horse, witholue furniture; game. An old woman under a hedge; ditto. A cat looking out of a window; 60. A man, woman, and child, in a buggy; 40. A man with a woman behind him; 30. A flock of sheep; 20. A flock of geese; 10. A post chaise; 5. A horseman; 2. A man or woman walking; 1.
Tray trip. An ancient game like Scotch hop, played on a pavement marked out with chalk into different compartments.
Trencher cap. The square cap worn by the collegians. at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge.
Trencher man. A stout trencher man; one who has a good appetite, or, as the term is, plays a good knife and fork.
Treswins. Threepence.
Trib. A prison: perhaps from tribulation.
Trickum legis. A quirk or quibble in the law.
Trig. The point at which schoolboys stand to shoot their marbles at taw; also the spot whence bowlers deliver the bowl.
To trig it. To play truant. To lay a man trigging; to knock him down.
Trigrymate. An idle female companion.
Trim. State, dress. In a sad trim; dirty. — Also spruce or fine: a trim fellow.
Trim tram. Like master, like man.
Trimming. Cheating, changing side, or beating. I’ll trim his jacket; I’ll thresh him. To be trimmed; to be shaved; I’ll just step and get trimmed.
Trine. To hang; also Tyburn.
Tringum trangum. A whim, or maggot.
Trining. Hanging.
Trinkets. Toys, bawbles, or nicknacks.
Trip. A short voyage or journey, a false step or stumble, an error in the tongue, a bastard. She has made a trip; she has had a bastard.
Tripe. The belly, or guts. Mr. Double Tripe; a fat man. Tripes and trullibubs; the entrails: also a jeering appellation for a fat man.
To troll. To loiter or saunter about.
Trolly lolly. Coarse lace once much in fashion.
Trollop. A lusty coarse sluttish woman.
Trooper. You will die the death of a trooper’s horse, that is, with your shoes-on; a jocular method of telling any one he will be hanged.
Trot. An old trot; a decrepit old woman. A dog trot; a gentle pace.
Trotters. Feet. To shake one’s trotters at Bilby’s ball, where the sheriff pays the fiddlers; perhaps the Bilboes ball, i.e. the ball of fetters: fetters and stocks were anciently called the bilboes.
To Trounce. To punish by course of law.
Truck. To exchange, swop, or barter; also a wheel such as ship’s guns are placed upon.
Trull. A soldier or a tinker’s trull; a soldier or tinker’s female companion. — Guteli, or trulli, are spirits like women, which shew great kindness to men, and hereof it is that we call light women trulls. Randle holm’s academy of Armory.
Trumpery. An old whore, or goods of no value; rubbish.
Trumpet. To sound one’s own trumpet; to praise one’s self.
Trumpeter. The king of Spain’s trumpeter; a braying ass. His trumpeter is dead, he is therefore forced to sound his own trumpet. He would make an excellent trumpeter, for he has a strong breath; said of one having a foetid breath.
Trumps. To be put to one’s trumps: to be in difficulties, or put to one’s shifts. Something may turn up trumps; something lucky may happen. All his cards are trumps: he is extremely fortunate.
Trundlers. Peas.
Trunk. A nose. How fares your old trunk? does your nose still stand fast? an allusion to the proboscis or trunk of an elephant. To shove a trunk: to introduce one’s self unasked into any place or company. Trunk-maker like; more noise than work.
Trusty trojan, or Trusty trout. A true friend.
Try on. To endeavour. To live by thieving. Coves who try it on; professed thieves.
Tryning. See Trining.
Tu quoque. The mother of all saints.
Tub thumper. A presbyterian parson.
Tucked up. Hanged. A tucker up to an old bachelor or widower; a supposed mistress.
Tuft hunter. A it anniversary parasite, one who courts the acquaintance of nobility, whose caps are adorned with a gold tuft.
Tumbler. A cart; also a sharper employed to draw in pigeons to game; likewise a posture-master, or rope-dancer. To shove the tumbler, or perhaps tumbril; to-be whipt at the cart’s tail.
To tune. To beat: his father tuned him delightfully: perhaps from fetching a tune out of the person beaten, or from a comparison with the disagreeable sounds of instruments when tuning.
To tup. To have carnal knowledge of a woman.
Tup. A ram: figuratively, a cuckold.
Tup running. A rural sport practised at wakes and fairs in Derbyshire; a ram, whose tail is well soaped and greased, is turned out to the multitude; any one that can take him by the tail, and hold him fast, is to have him for his own.
T— D. There were four t — ds for dinner: stir t — d, hold t — d, tread t — d, and mus-t — d: to wit, a hog’s face, feet and chitterlings, with mustard. He will never sh — e a seaman’s t — d; i.e. he will never make a good seaman.
Turf. On the turf; persons who keep running horses, or attend and bet at horse-races, are said to be on the turf.
Turk. A cruel, hard-hearted man. Turkish treatment; barbarous usage. Turkish shore; Lambeth, Southwark, and Rotherhithe side of the Thames.
Turkey merchant. A poulterer.
Turncoat. One who has changed his party from interested motives.
Turned up. Acquitted; discharged.
Turnip-pated. White or fair-haired.
Turnpike man. A parson; because the clergy collect their tolls at our entrance into and exit from the world.
Tuzzy-muzzy. The monosyllable.
Twaddle. Perplexity, confusion, or any thing else: a fashionable term that for a while succeeded that of Bore. See Bore.
Twangey, or Stangey. A north country name for a taylor.
Tweague. In a great tweague: in a great passion. Tweaguey; peevish, passionate.
To tweak. To pull: to tweak any one’s nose.
Twelver. A shilling.
Twiddle-diddles. Testicles.
Twiddle poop. An effeminate looking fellow.
In twig. Handsome; stilish. The cove is togged in twig; the fellow is dressed in the fashion.
To twig. To observe. Twig the cull, he is peery; observe the fellow, he is watching us. Also to disengage, snap asunder, or break off. To twig the darbies; to knock off the irons.
Twiss. (Irish) A Jordan, or pot de chambre. A Mr. Richard Twiss having in his “Travels” given a very unfavourable description of the Irish character, the inhabitants of Dublin, byway of revenge, thought proper to christen this utensil by his name — suffice it to say that the baptismal rites were not wanting at the ceremony. On a nephew of this gentleman the following epigram was made by a friend of ouis:
Perish the country, yet my name
Shall ne’er in Story be forgot,
But still the more increase in fame,
The more the country Goes to pot.
Twist. A mixture of half tea and half coffee; likewise brandy, beer, and eggs. A good twist; a good appetite. To twist it down apace; to eat heartily.
Twisted. Executed, hanged.
To twit. To reproach a person, or remind him of favours conferred.
Twitter. All in a twitter; in a fright. Twittering is also the note of some small birds, such as the robin, &c.
Twittoc. Two. Cant.
Two handed put. The amorous congress.
Two thieves beating a rogue. A man beating his hands against his sides to warm himself in cold weather; called also beating the booby, and cuffing Jonas.
Two to one shop. A pawnbroker’s: alluding to the three blue balls, the sign of that trade: or perhaps to its being two to one that the goods pledged are never redeemed.
Two-handed. Great. A two-handed fellow or wench; a great strapping man orwoman,
Tye. A neckcloth.
Tyburn blossom. A young thief or pickpocket, who in time will ripen into fruit borne by the deadly never-green.
Tyburn tippet. A halter; see Latimer’s sermon before. Edward VI. A. D. 1549.
Tyburn top, or Foretop. A wig with the foretop combed over the eyes in a knowing style; such being much worn by the gentlemen pads, scamps, divers, and other knowing hands.
Tyke. A dog, also a clown; a Yorkshire tyke.
Tyney. See Tiney.
Vagaries. Frolics, wild rambles.
Vain-glorious, or Ostentatious man. One who boasts without reason, or, as the canters say, pisses more than he drinks.
Valentine. The first woman seen by a man, or man seen by a woman, on St. Valentine’s day, the 14th of February, when it is said every bird chuses his mate for the ensuing year.
To vamp. To pawn any thing. I’ll vamp it, and tip you the cole: I’ll pawn it, and give you the money. Also to refit, new dress, or rub up old hats, shoes or other wearing apparel; likewise to put new feet to old boots. Applied more particularly to a quack bookseller.
Vamper. Stockings.
Van. Madam Van; see Madam.
Van-neck. Miss or Mrs. Van–Neck; a woman with large breasts; a bushel bubby.
Vardy. To give one’s vardy; i.e. verdict or opinion.
Varlets. Now rogues and rascals, formerly yeoman’s servants.
Varment. (Whip and Cambridge.) Natty, dashing. He is quite varment, he is quite the go. He sports a varment hat, coat, &c.; he is dressed like a gentleman Jehu.
Vaulting school. A bawdy-house; also an academy where vaulting and other manly exercises are taught.
Velvet. To tip the velvet; to put one’s tongue into a woman’s mouth. To be upon velvet; to have the best of a bet or match. To the little gentleman in velvet, i. e. the mole that threw up the hill that caused Crop (King William’s horse) to stumble; a toast frequently drank by the tories and catholics in Ireland.
Venerable monosyllable. Pudendum muliebre.
Venus’s curse. The venereal disease.
Vessels of paper. Half a quarter of a sheet.
Vicar of bray. See Bray.
Vice admiral of the narrow seas. A drunken man that pisses under the table into his companions’ shoes.
Victualling office. The stomach.
Vincent’s law. The art of cheating at cards, composed of the following associates: bankers, those who play booty; the gripe, he that betteth; and the person cheated, who is styled the vincent; the gains acquired, termage.
Vinegar. A name given to the person who with a whip in his hand, and a hat held before his eye, keeps the ring clear, at boxing-matches and cudgel-playing; also, in cant terms, a cloak.
Vixen. A termagant; also a she fox, who, when she has cubs, is remarkably fierce.
To vowel. A gamester who does not immediately pay his losings, is said to vowel the winner, by repeating the vowels I. O. U. or perhaps from giving his note for the money according to the Irish form, where the acknowledgment of the debt is expressed by the letters I. O. U. which, the sum and name of the debtor being added, is deemed a sufficient security among gentlemen.
Uncle. Mine uncle’s; a necessary house. He is gone to visit his uncle; saying of one who leaves his wife soon after marriage. It likewise means a pawnbroker’s: goods pawned are frequently said to be at mine uncle’s, or laid up in lavender.
Understrapper. An inferior in any office, or department.
Under dubber. A turnkey.
Unfortunate gentlemen. The horse guards, who thus named themselves in Germany, where a general officer seeing them very awkward in bundling up their forage, asked what the devil they were; to which some of them answered, unfortunate gentlemen.
Unfortunate women. Prostitutes: so termed by the virtuous and compassionate of their own sex.
Ungrateful man. A parson, who at least once a week abuses his best benefactor, i.e. the devil.
Unguentum aureum. A bribe.
Unicorn. A coach drawn by three horses.
Unlicked cub. A rude uncouth young fellow.
Unrigged. Undressed, or stripped. Unrig the drab; strip the wench.
Untruss. To untruss a point; to let down one’s breeches in order to ease one’s self. Breeches were formerly tied with points, which till lately were distributed to the boys every Whit Monday by the churchwardens of most of the parishes in London, under the denomination of tags: these tags were worsteds of different colours twisted up to a size somewhat thicker than packthread, and tagged at both ends with tin. Laces were at the same given to the girls.
Untwisted. Undone, ruined, done up.
Unwashed bawdry. Rank bawdry.
Up to their gossip. To be a match for one who attempts to cheat or deceive; to be on a footing, or in the secret. I’ll be up with him; I will repay him in kind.
Uphills. False dice that run high.
Upper benjamin. A great coat. Cant.
Upper story, or Garret. Figuratively used to signify the head. His upper story or garrets are unfurnished; i.e. he is an empty or foolish fellow.
Upping block. [Called in some counties a leaping stock, in others a jossing block.] Steps for mounting a horse. He sits like a toad on a jossing block; said of one who sits ungracefully on horseback.
Uppish. Testy, apt to take offence.
Upright. Go upright; a word used by shoemakers, taylors and their servants, when any money is given to make them drink, and signifies, Bring it all out in liquor, though the donor intended less, and expects change, or some of his money, to be returned. Three-penny upright. See Threepenny upright,
Upright man. An upright man signifies the chief or principal of a crew. The vilest, stoutest rogue in the pack is generally chosen to this post, and has the sole right to the first night’s lodging with the dells, who afterwards are used in common among the whole fraternity. He carries a short truncheon in his hand, which he calls his filchman, and has a larger share than ordinary in whatsoever is gotten in the society. He often travels in company with thirty or forty males and females, abram men, and others, over whom he presides arbitrarily. Sometimes the women and children who are unable to travel, or fatigued, are by turns carried in panniers by an ass, or two, or by some poor jades procured for that purpose.
Upstarts. Persons lately raised to honours and riches from mean stations.
Urchin. A child, a little fellow; also a hedgehog.
Urinal of the planets. Ireland: so called from the frequent rains in that island.
Used up. Killed: a military saying, originating from a message sent by the late General Guise, on the expedition at Carthagena, where he desired the commander in chief to order him some more grenadiers, for those he had were all used up.
Wabler. Footwabler; a contemptuous term for a foot soldier, frequently used by those of the cavalry.
To waddle. To go like a duck. To waddle out of Change alley as a lame duck; a term for one who has not been able to pay his gaming debts, called his differences, on the Stock Exchange, and therefore absents himself from it.
Wag. An arch-frolicsome fellow.
Waggish. Arch, gamesome, frolicsome.
Wagtail. A lewd woman.
Waits. Musicians of the lower order, who in most towns play under the windows of the chief inhabitants at midnight, a short time before Christmas, for which they collect a christmas-box from house to house. They are said to derive their name of waits from being always in waiting to celebrate weddings and other joyous events happening within their district.
Wake. A country feast, commonly on the anniversary of the tutelar saint of the village, that is, the saint to whom the parish church is dedicated. Also a custom of watching the dead, called Late Wake, in use both in Ireland and Wales, where the corpse being deposited under a table, with a plate of salt on its breast, the table is covered with liquor of all sorts; and the guests, particularly, the younger part of them, amuse themselves with all kinds of pastimes and recreations: the consequence is generally more than replacing the departed friend.
Walking cornet. An ensign of foot.
Walking poulterer. One who steals fowls, and hawks them from door to door.
Walking stationer. A hawker of pamphlets, &c.
Walking the plank. A mode of destroying devoted persons or officers in a mutiny or ship-board, by blindfolding them, and obliging them to walk on a plank laid over the ship’s side; by this means, as the mutineers suppose, avoiding the penalty of murder.
Walking up against the wall. To run up a score, which in alehouses is commonly recorded with chalk on the walls of the bar.
Wall. To walk or crawl up the wall; to be scored up at a public-nouse. Wall-eyed, having an eye with little or no sight, all white like a plaistered wall.
To wap. To copulate, to beat. If she wont wap for a winne, let her trine for a make; if she won’t lie with a man for a penny, let her hang for a halfpenny. Mort wap-apace; a woman of experience, or very expert at the sport.
Wapper-eyed. Sore-eyed.
Ware. A woman’s ware; her commodity.
Ware hawk. An exclamation used by thieves to inform their confederates that some police officers are at hand.
Warm. Rich, in good circumstances. To warm, or give a man a warming; to beat him. See Chafed.
Warming-pan. A large old-fashioned watch. A Scotch warming-pan; a female bedfellow.
Warren. One that is security for goods taken up on credit by extravagant young gentlemen. Cunny warren; a girl’s boarding-school, also a bawdy-house.
Wash. Paint for the face, or cosmetic water. Hog-wash; thick and bad beer.
Wasp. An infected prostitute, who like a wasp carries a sting in her tail.
Waspish. Peevish, spiteful.
Waste. House of waste; a tavern or alehouse, where idle people waste both their time and money.
Watch, chain, and seals. A sheep’s head And pluck.
Water-mill. A woman’s private parts.
Water sneaksman. A man who steals from ships or craft on the river.
Water. His chops watered at it; he longed earnestly for it. To watch his waters; to keep a strict watch on any one’s actions. In hot water: in trouble, engaged in disputes.
Water bewitched. Very weak punch or beer.
Waterpad. One that robs ships in the river Thames.
Watery-headed. Apt to shed tears.
Water scriger, A doctor who prescribes from inspecting the water of his patients. See Piss prophet.
Wattles. Ears. Cant.
Wear A— E. A one-horse chaise.
Weasel-faced. Thin, meagre-faced. Weasel-gutted; thin-bodied; a weasel is a thin long slender animal with a sharp face.
Wedding. The emptying of a neoessary-hovise, particularly in London. You have been at an Irish wedding, where black eyes are given instead of favours; saying to one who has a black eye.
Wedge. Silver plate, because melted by the receivers of stolen goods into wedges. Cant.
To weed. To take a part. The kiddey weeded the swell’s screens; the youth took some of the gentleman’s bank notes.
Weeping cross. To come home by weeping cross; to repent.
Welch comb. The thumb and four fingers.
Welch fiddle. The itch. See Scotch fiddle.
Welch mile. Like a Welch mile, long and narrow. His story is like a Welch mile, long and tedious.
Welch rabbit, [i. e. a Welch rare-bit] Bread and cheese toasted. See Rabbit. — The Welch are said to be so remarkably fond of cheese, that in cases of difficulty their midwives apply a piece of toasted cheese to the janua vita to attract and entice the young Taffy, who on smelling it makes most vigorous efforts to come forth.
Welch ejectment. To unroof the house, a method practised by landlords in Wales to eject a bad tenant.
To well. To divide unfairly. To conceal part. A cant phrase used by thieves, where one of the party conceals some of the booty, instead of dividing it fairly amongst his confederates.
Well-hung. The blowen was nutts upon the kiddey because he is well-hung; the girl is pleased with the youth because his genitals are large.
Westminster wedding. A match between a whore and a rogue.
Wet parson. One who moistens his clay freely, in order to make it stick together.
Wet quaker. One of that sect who has no objection to the spirit derived from wine.
Whack. A share of a booty obtained by fraud. A paddy whack; a stout brawney Irishman.
Whapper. A large man or woman.
Wheedle. A sharper. To cut a wheedle; to decoy by fawning or insinuation. Cant.
Wheelband in the nick. Regular drinking over the left thumb.
Whelp. An impudent whelp; a saucy boy.
Whereas. To follow a whereas; to become a bankrupt, to figure among princes and potentates: the notice given in the Gazette that a commission of bankruptcy is issued out against any trader, always beginning with the word whereas. He will soon march in the rear of a whereas.
Whet. A morning’s draught, commonly white wine, supposed to whet or sharpen the appetite.
Whetstone’s park. A lane between Holborn and Lincoln’s-inn Fields, formerly famed for being the resort of women of the town.
Whids. Words. Cant.
To whiddle. To tell or discover. He whiddles; he peaches. He whiddles the whole scrap; he discovers all he knows. The cull whiddled because they would not tip him a snack: the fellow peached because they would not give him a share, They whiddle beef, and we must brush; they cry out thieves, and we must make off. Cant.
Whiddler. An informer, or one that betrays the secrets of the gang.
Whiffles. A relaxation of the scrotum.
Whifflers. Ancient name for fifers; also persons at the universities who examine candidates for degrees. A whiffling cur, a small yelping cur.
Whimper, or Whindle. A low cry.
To whine. To complain.
Whinyard. A sword.
To whip the cock. A piece of sport practised at wakes, horse-races, and fairs in Leicestershire: a cock being tied or fastened into a hat or basket, half a dozen carters blindfolded, and armed with their cart whips, are placed round it, who, after being turned thrice about, begin to whip the cock, which if any one strikes so as to make it cry out, it becomes his property; the joke is, that instead of whipping the cock they flog each other heartily.
Whip jacks. The tenth order of the canting crew, rogues who having learned a few sea terms, beg with counterfeit passes, pretending to be sailors shipwrecked on the neighbouring coast, and on their way to the port from whence they sailed.
To whip off. To run away, to drink off greedily, to snatch. He whipped away from home, went to the alehouse, where he whipped off a full tankard, and coming back whipped off a fellow’s hat from his head.
Whip-belly vengeance, or pinch-gut vengeance, of which he that gets the most has the worst share. Weak or sour beer.
Whipper-snapper. A diminutive fellow.
Whipster. A sharp or subtle fellow.
Whipt syllabub. A flimsy, frothy discourse or treatise, without solidity.
Whirlygigs. Testicles.
Whisker splitter. A man of intrigue.
Whiskin. A shallow brown drinking bowl.
Whisky. A malt spirit much drank in Ireland and Scotland; also a one-horse chaise. See Tim whisky.
Whistle. The throat. To wet one’s whistle; to drink.
Whistling shop. Rooms in the King’s Bench and Fleet prison where drams are privately sold.
Whit. [i. e. Whittington’s.] Newgate. Cant. — Five rum-padders are rubbed in the darkmans out of the whit, and are piked into the deuseaville; five highwaymen broke out of Newgate in the night, and are gone into the country.
White ribbin. Gin.
White feather. He has a white feather; he is a coward; an allusion to a game cock, where having a white leather is a proof he is not of the true game breed.
White-livered. Cowardly, malicious.
White lie. A harmless lie, one not told with a malicious intent, a lie told to reconcile people at variance.
White serjeant. A man fetched from the tavern or ale-house by his wife, is said to be arrested by the white serjeant.
White swelling. A woman big with child is said to have a white swelling.
White tape. Geneva.
White wool. Geneva.
Whitechapel. Whitechapel portion; two smocks, and what nature gave. Whitechapel breed; fat, ragged, and saucy: see St. giles’s breed. Whitechapel beau; one who dresses with a needle and thread, and undresses with a knife. To play at whist Whitechapel fashion; i.e. aces and kings first.
Whitewashed. One who has taken the benefit of an act of insolvency, to defraud his creditors, is said to have been whitewashed.
Whitfielite. A follower of George Whitfield, a Methodist.
Whither-go-ye. A wife: wives being sometimes apt to question their husbands whither they are going.
Whittington’s college. Newgate; built or repaired by the famous lord mayor of that name.
Whore’s bird. A debauched fellow, the largest of all birds. He sings more like a whore’s bird than a canary bird; said of one who has a strong manly voice.
Whore’s curse. A piece of gold coin, value five shillings and three pence, frequently given to women of the town by such as professed always to give gold, and who before the introduction of those pieces always gave half a guinea.
Whohe’s kitling, or Whore’s son. A bastard.
Whore-monger. A man that keeps more than one mistress. A country gentleman, who kept a female friend, being reproved by the parson of the parish, and styled a whore-monger, asked the parson whether he had a cheese in his house; and being answered in the affirmative, ‘Pray,’ says he, ‘does that one cheese make you a cheese-monger?’
Whore pipe. The penis.
Whow ball. A milk-maid: from their frequent use of the word whow, to make the cow stand still in milking. Ball is the supposed name of the cow.
Wibble. Bad drink.
Wibling’s witch. The four of clubs: from one James Wibling, who in the reign of King James I. grew rich by private gaming, and was commonly observed to have that card, and never to lose a game but when he had it not.
Wicket. A casement; also a little door.
Widow’s weeds. Mourning clothes of a peculiar fashion, denoting her state. A grass widow; a discarded mistress. a widow bewitched; a woman whose husband is abroad, and said, but not certainly known, to be dead.
Wife. A fetter fixed to one leg.
Wife in water colours. A mistress, or concubine; water colours being, like their engagements, easily effaced, or dissolved.
Wigannowns. A man wearing a large wig.
Wigsby. Wigsby; a man wearing a wig.
Wild rogues. Rogues trained up to stealing from their cradles.
Wild squirt. A looseness.
Wild-goose chase. A tedious uncertain pursuit, like the following a flock of wild geese, who are remarkably shy.
Willing tit. A free horse, or a coming girl.
Willow. Poor, and of no reputation. To wear the willow; to be abandoned by a lover or mistress.
Win. A penny,
To win. To steal. The cull has won a couple of rum glimsticks; the fellow has stolen a pair of fine candlesticks.
Wind. To raise the wind; to procure mony.
Winder. Transportation for life. The blowen has napped a winder for a lift; the wench is transported for life for stealing in a shop.
Wind-mill. The fundament. She has no fortune but her mills; i.e. she has nothing but her **** and a*se.
Windfall. A legacy, or any accidental accession of property.
Windmills in the head. Foolish projects.
Window peeper. A collector of the window tax.
Windward passage. One who uses or navigates the windward passage; a sodomite.
Windy. Foolish. A windy fellow; a simple fellow.
Wink. To tip one the wink; to give a signal by winking the eye.
Winnings. Plunder, goods, or money acquired by theft.
Winter cricket. A taylor.
Winter’s day. He is like a winter’s day, short and dirty.
Wipe. A blow, or reproach. I’ll give you a wipe on the chops. That story gave him a fine wipe. Also a handkerchief.
Wiper. A handkerchief. Cant.
Wiper drawer. A pickpocket, one who steals handkerchiefs. He drew a broad, narrow, cam, or specked wiper; he picked a pocket of a broad, narrow, cambrick, or coloured handkerchief.
To wiredraw. To lengthen out or extend any book, letter, or discourse.
Wise. As wise as Waltham’s calf, that ran nine miles to suck a bull.
Wise men of gotham. Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire; its magistrates are said to have attempted to hedge in a cuckow; a bush, called the cuckow’s bush, is still shewn in support of the tradition. A thousand other ridiculous stories are told of the men of Gotham.
Wiseacre. A foolish conceited fellow.
Wiseacre’s hall. Gresham college.
Wit. He has as much wit as three folks, two fools and a madman.
Witches. Silver. Witcher bubber; a silver bowl. Witcher tilter; a silver-hilted sword. Witcher cully; a silversmith.
To wobble. To boil. Pot wobbler; one who boils a pot.
Wolf in the breast. An extraordinary mode of imposition, sometimes practised in the country by strolling women, who have the knack of counterfeiting extreme pain, pretending to have a small animal called a wolf in their breasts, which is continually gnawing them.
Wolf in the stomach. A monstrous or canine appetite.
Wood. In a wood; bewildered, in a maze, in a peck of troubles, puzzled, or at a loss what course to take in any business. To look over the wood; to ascend the pulpit, to preach: I shall look over the wood at St. James’s on Sunday next. To look through the wood; to stand in the pillory. Up to the arms in wood; in the pillory.
Wood pecker. A bystander, who bets whilst another plays.
Woodcock. A taylor with a long bill.
Wooden habeas. A coffin. A man who dies in prison is said to go out with a wooden habeas. He went out with a wooden habeas; i.e. his coffin.
Wooden spoon. (Cambridge.) The last junior optime. See Wrangler, optime.
Wooden horse. To fide the wooden horse was a military punishment formerly in use. This horse consisted of two or more planks about eight feet long, fixed together so as to form a sharp ridge or angle, which answered to the body of the horse. It was supported by four posts, about six feet long, for legs. A head, neck, and tail, rudely cut in wood, were added, which completed the appearance of a horse. On this sharp ridge delinquents were mounted, with their hands tied behind them; and to steady them (as it was said), and lest the horse should kick them off, one or more firelocks were tied to each leg. In this situation they were sometimes condemned to sit an hour or two; but at length it having been found to injure the soldiers materially, and sometimes to rupture them, it was left off about the time of the accession of King George I. A wooden horse was standing in the Parade at Portsmouth as late as the year 1750.
Wooden ruff. The pillory. See Norway neckcloth.
Wooden surtout. A coilin.
Woman of the town, or Woman of pleasure. A prostitute.
Woman and her husband. A married couple, where the woman is bigger than her husband.
Woman’s conscience. Never satisfied.
Woman of all work. Sometimes applied to a female servant, who refuses none of her master’s commands.
Woolbird. A sheep. Cant.
Wool gathering. Your wits are gone a woolgathering; saying to an absent man, one in a reverie, or absorbed in thought.
Woolley crown. A soft-headed fellow.
Word grubbers. Verbal critics, and also persons who use hard words in common discourse.
Word pecker. A punster, one who plays upon words.
Word of mouth. To drink by word of mouth, i.e. out of the bowl or bottle instead, of a glass.
World. All the world and his wife; every body, a great company.
Worm. To worm out; to obtain the knowledge of a secret by craft, also to undermine or supplant. He is gone to the diet of worms; he is dead and buried, or gone to Rothisbone.
Wranglers. At Cambridge the first class (generally of twelve) at the annual examination for a degree. There are three classes of honours, wranglers, senior optimes, and junior optimes. Wranglers are said to be born with golden spoons in their mouths, the senior optimes with silver, and the junior with leaden ones. The last junior optime is called the wooden spoon. Those who are not qualified for honors are either in the Gulf (that is, meritorious, but not deserving of being in the three first classes) or among the pollot [Proofreaders Note: Greek Letters] the many. See Pluck, apostles, &C.
Wrap rascal. A red cloak, called also a roquelaire.
Wrapt up in warm flannel. Drunk with spirituous liquors. He was wrapt up in the tail of his mother’s smock; saying of any one remarkable for his success with the ladies. To be wrapt up in any one: to have a good opinion of him, or to be under his influence.
Wrinkle. A wrinkle-bellied whore; one who has had a number of bastards: child-bearing leaves wrinkles in a woman’s belly. To take the wrinkles out of any one’s belly; to fill it out by a hearty meal. You have one wrinkle more in your a-se; i.e. you have one piece of knowledge more than you had, every fresh piece of knowledge being supposed by the vulgar naturalists to add a wrinkle to that part.
Wry mouth and a pissen pair of breeches. Hanging.
Wry neck day. Hanging day.
Wyn. See Win.
| William de la Pole, 1st Duke of Suffolk |
In which city would you find the Sky Tower Westhaven Marina and the North Harbour Stadium? | Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue / Francis Grose
Autem bawler. A parson. Cant.
Autem cacklers, autem prickears. Dissenters of every denomination. Cant.
Autem cackletub. A conventicle or meeting-house for dissenters. Cant.
Autem dippers. Anabaptists. Cant.
Autem divers. Pickpockets who practice in churches; also churchwardens and overseers of the poor. Cant.
Autem goglers. Pretended French prophets. Cant.
Autem mort. A married woman; also a female beggar with several children hired or borrowed to excite charity. Cant.
Autem quavers. Quakers.
Autem quaver tub. A Quakers’ meeting-house. Cant.
Awake. Acquainted with, knowing the business. Stow the books, the culls are awake; hide the cards, the fellows know what we intended to do.
Babes in the wood. Criminals in the stocks, or pillory.
Babble. Confused, unintelligible talk, such as was used at the building the tower of Babel.
Back biter. One who slanders another behind his back, i.e. in his absence. His bosom friends are become his back biters, said of a lousy man.
Backed. Dead. He wishes to have the senior, or old square-toes, backed; he longs to have his father on six men’s shoulders; that is, carrying to the grave.
Back up. His back is up, i.e. he is offended or angry; an expression or idea taken from a cat; that animal, when angry, always raising its back. An allusion also sometimes used to jeer a crooked man; as, So, Sir, I see somebody has offended you, for your back is up.
Bacon. He has saved his bacon; he has escaped. He has a good voice to beg bacon; a saying in ridicule of a bad voice.
Bacon-faced. Full-faced.
Back gammon player. A sodomite.
Back door (Usher, or Gentleman of the). The same.
Bad bargain. One of his majesty’s bad bargains; a worthless soldier, a malingeror. See Malingeror.
Badge. A term used for one burned in the hand. He has got his badge, and piked; he was burned in the hand, and is at liberty. Cant.
Badge-coves. Parish Pensioners. Cant.
Badgers. A crew of desperate villains who robbed near rivers, into which they threw the bodies of those they murdered. Cant.
Bag. He gave them the bag, i.e. left them.
Bag of nails. He squints like a bag of nails; i. e. his eyes are directed as many ways as the points of a bag of nails. The old Bag of nails at Pimlico; originally the Bacchanals.
Baggage. Heavy baggage; women and children. Also a familiar epithet for a woman; as, cunning baggage, wanton baggage, &c.
Bakers dozen. Fourteen; that number of rolls being allowed to the purchasers of a dozen.
Baker-knee’d. One whose knees knock together in walking, as if kneading dough.
Balderdash. Adulterated wine.
Ballocks. The testicles of a man or beast; also a vulgar nick name for a parson. His brains are in his ballocks, a cant saying to designate a fool.
Balum rancum. A hop or dance, where the women are all prostitutes. N. B. The company dance in their birthday suits.
Balsam. Money.
Bam. A jocular imposition, the same as a humbug. See Humbug.
To bam. To impose on any one by a falsity; also to jeer or make fun of any one.
To bamboozle. To make a fool of any one, to humbug or impose on him.
Banaghan. He beats Banaghan; an Irish saying of one who tells wonderful stories. Perhaps Banaghan was a minstrel famous for dealing in the marvellous.
Bandbox. Mine a-se on a bandbox; an answer to the offer of any thing inadequate to the purpose for which it is proffered, like offering a bandbox for a seat.
Banbury story of a cock and a bull. A roundabout, nonsensical story.
Bandog. A bailiff or his follower; also a very fierce mastiff: likewise, a bandbox. Cant.
Bang up. (Whip.) Quite the thing, hellish fine. Well done. Compleat. Dashing. In a handsome stile. A bang up cove; a dashing fellow who spends his money freely. To bang up prime: to bring your horses up in a dashing or fine style: as the swell’s rattler and prads are bang up prime; the gentleman sports an elegant carriage and fine horses.
To bang. To beat.
Banging. Great; a fine banging boy.
Bang straw. A nick name for a thresher, but applied to all the servants of a farmer.
Bankrupt cart. A one-horse chaise, said to be so called by a Lord Chief Justice, from their being so frequently used on Sunday jaunts by extravagant shop-keepers and tradesmen.
Banks’s horse. A horse famous for playing tricks, the property of one Banks. It is mentioned in Sir Walter Raleigh’s Hist. of the World, p. 178; also by Sir Kenelm Digby and Ben Jonson.
Bantling. A young child.
Banyan day. A sea term for those days on which no meat is allowed to the sailors: the term is borrowed from the Banyans in the East Indies, a cast that eat nothing that had life.
Baptized, or christened. Rum, brandy, or any other spirits, that have been lowered with water.
Barber’s chair. She is as common as a barber’s chair, in which a whole parish sit to be trimmed; said of a prostitute.
Barber’s sign. A standing pole and two wash balls.
Bargain. To sell a bargain; a species of wit, much in vogue about the latter end of the reign of Queen Anne, and frequently alluded to by Dean Swift, who says the maids of honour often amused themselves with it. It consisted in the seller naming his or her hinder parts, in answer to the question, What? which the buyer was artfully led to ask. As a specimen, take the following instance: A lady would come into a room full of company, apparently in a fright, crying out, It is white, and follows me! On any of the company asking, What? she sold him the bargain, by saying, Mine a-e.
Bargees. (Cambridge.) Barge-men on the river.
Barker. The shopman of a bow-wow shop, or dealer in second hand clothes, particularly about Monmouth–Street, who walks before his master’s door, and deafens every passenger with his cries of — Clothes, coats, or gowns — what d’ye want, gemmen? — what d’ye buy? See Bow-wow shop.
Barkshire. A member or candidate for Barkshire, said of one troubled with a cough, vulgarly styled barking.
Barking irons. Pistols, from their explosion resembling the bow-wow or barking of a dog. Irish.
Barn. A parson’s barn; never so full but there is still room, for more. Bit by a barn mouse, tipsey, probably from an allusion to barley.
Barnaby. An old dance to a quick movement. See Cotton, in his Virgil Travesti; where, speaking of Eolus he has these lines,
Bounce cry the port-holes, out they fly,
And make the world dance Barnaby.
Barnacle. A good job, or snack easily got: also shellfish growing at the bottoms of ships; a bird of the goose kind; an instrument like a pair of pincers, to fix on the noses of vicious horses whilst shoeing; a nick name for spectacles, and also for the gratuity given to grooms by the buyers and sellers of horses.
Barrel fever. He died of the barrel fever; he killed himself by drinking.
Barrow man. A man under sentence of transportation; alluding to the convicts at Woolwich, who are principally employed in wheeling barrows full of brick or dirt.
Bartholomew baby. A person dressed up in a tawdry manner, like the dolls or babies sold at Bartholomew fair.
Basket. An exclamation frequently made use of in cock-pits, at cock-fightings, where persons refusing or unable to pay their losings, are adjudged by that respectable assembly to be put into a basket suspended over the pit, there to remain during that day’s diversion: on the least demur to pay a bet, Basket is vociferated in terrorem. He grins like a basket of chips: a saying of one who is on the broad grin.
Basket-making. The good old trade of basket-making; copulation, or making feet for children’s stockings.
Bastard. The child of an unmarried woman.
Bastardly gullion. A bastard’s bastard.
To baste. To beat. I’ll give him his bastings, I’ll beat him heartily.
Basting. A beating.
Bastonading. Beating any one with a stick; from baton, a stick, formerly spelt baston.
Bat. A low whore: so called from moving out like bats in the dusk of the evening.
Batch. We had a pretty batch of it last night; we had a hearty dose of liquor. Batch originally means the whole quantity of bread baked at one time in an oven.
Battner. An ox: beef being apt to batten or fatten those that eat it. The cove has hushed the battner; i.e. has killed the ox.
Batchelor’s fare. Bread and cheese and kisses.
Batchelor’s son. A bastard.
Battle-royal. A battle or bout at cudgels or fisty-cuffs, wherein more than two persons are engaged: perhaps from its resemblance, in that particular, to more serious engagements fought to settle royal disputes.
Bawbee. A halfpenny. Scotch.
Bawbels, or Bawbles. Trinkets; a man’s testicles.
Bawd. A female procuress.
Bawdy basket. The twenty-third rank of canters, who carry pins, tape, ballads, and obscene books to sell, but live mostly by stealing. Cant.
Bawdy-house bottle. A very small bottle; short measure being among the many means used by the keepers of those houses, to gain what they call an honest livelihood: indeed this is one of the least reprehensible; the less they give a man of their infernal beverages for his money, the kinder they behave to him.
Bay fever. A term of ridicule applied to convicts, who sham illness, to avoid being sent to Botany Bay.
Bayard of ten toes. To ride bayard of ten toes, is to walk on foot. Bayard was a horse famous in old romances,
Beak. A justice of-peace, or magistrate. Also a judge or chairman who presides in court. I clapp’d my peepers full of tears, and so the old beak set me free; I began to weep, and the judge set me free.
Bean. A guinea. Half bean; half a guinea.
Bear. One who contracts to deliver a certain quantity of sum of stock in the public funds, on a future day, and at stated price; or, in other words, sells what he has not got, like the huntsman in the fable, who sold the bear’s skin before the bear was killed. As the bear sells the stock he is not possessed of, so the bull purchases what he has not money to pay for; but in case of any alteration in the price agreed on, either party pays or receives the difference. Exchange Alley.
Bear-garden jaw or Discourse. Rude, vulgar language, such as was used at the bear-gardens.
Bear leader. A travelling tutor.
Beard splitter. A man much given to wenching.
Bearings. I’ll bring him to his bearings; I’ll bring him to reason. Sea term.
Beast. To drink like a beast, i.e. only when thirsty.
Beast with two backs. A man and woman in the act of copulation. Shakespeare in Othello.
Beater cases. Boots. Cant.
Beau-nasty. A slovenly fop; one finely dressed, but dirty.
Beau trap. A loose stone in a pavement, under which water lodges, and on being trod upon, squirts it up, to the great damage of white stockings; also a sharper neatly dressed, lying in wait for raw country squires, or ignorant fops.
Becalmed. A piece of sea wit, sported in hot weather. I am becalmed, the sail sticks to the mast; that is, my shirt sticks to my back. His prad is becalmed; his horse knocked up.
Beck. A beadle. See Hermanbeck.
Bed. Put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a spade; said of one that is dead and buried. You will go up a ladder to bed, i.e. you will be hanged. In many country places, persons hanged are made to mount up a ladder, which is afterwards turned round or taken away, whence the term, “Turned off.”
Bedfordshire. I am for Bedfordshire, i.e. for going to bed.
Bedizened. Dressed out, over-dressed, or awkwardly ornamented.
Bed-maker. Women employed at Cambridge to attend on the Students, sweep his room, &c. They will put their hands to any thing, and are generally blest with a pretty family of daughters: who unmake the beds, as fast as they are made by their mothers.
Beef. To cry beef; to give the alarm. They have cried beef on us. Cant. — To be in a man’s beef; to wound him with a sword. To be in a woman’s beef; to have carnal knowledge of her. Say you bought your beef of me, a jocular request from a butcher to a fat man, implying that he credits the butcher who serves him.
Beef eater. A yeoman of the guards, instituted by Henry Vii. Their office was to stand near the bouffet, or cupboard, thence called Bouffetiers, since corrupted to Beef Eaters. Others suppose they obtained this name from the size of their persons, and the easiness of their duty, as having scarce more to do than to eat the king’s beef.
Beetle-browed. One having thick projecting eyebrows.
Beetle-headed. Dull, stupid.
Beggar maker. A publican, or ale-house keeper.
Beggar’s bullets. Stones. The beggar’s bullets began to fly, i.e. they began to throw stones.
Beilby’s ball. He will dance at Beilby’s ball, where the sheriff pays the music; he will be hanged. Who Mr. Beilby was, or why that ceremony was so called, remains with the quadrature of the circle, the discovery of the philosopher’s stone, and divers other desiderata yet undiscovered.
Belch. All sorts of beer; that liquor being apt to cause eructation.
Belcher. A red silk handkerchief, intermixed with yellow and a little black. The kiddey flashes his belcher; the young fellow wears a silk handkerchief round his neck.
Bell, book, and candle. They cursed him with bell, book, and candle; an allusion to the popish form of excommunicating and anathematizing persons who had offended the church.
To bear the bell. To excel or surpass all competitors, to be the principal in a body or society; an allusion to the fore horse or leader of a team, whose harness is commonly ornamented with a bell or bells. Some suppose it a term borrowed from an ancient tournament, where the victorious knights bore away the Belle or Fair lady. Others derive it from a horse-race, or other rural contentions, where bells were frequently given as prizes.
Bellows. The lungs.
Bellower. The town crier.
Bellowser. Transportation for life: i.e. as long.
Belly. His eye was bigger than his belly; a saying of a person at a table, who takes more on his plate than he can eat.
Bellyfull. A hearty beating, sufficient to make a man yield or give out. A woman with child is also said to have got her belly full.
Belly cheat. An apron.
Belly plea. The plea of pregnancy, generally adduced by female felons capitally convicted, which they take care to provide for, previous to their trials; every gaol having, as the Beggar’s Opera informs us, one or more child getters, who qualify the ladies for that expedient to procure a respite.
Belly timber. Food of all sorts.
Bell swagger. A noisy bullying fellow.
Bellwether. The chief or leader of a mob; an idea taken from a flock of sheep, where the wether has a bell about his neck.
Bene. Good —Benar. Better. Cant.
Bene bowse. Good beer, or other strong liquor. Cant.
Bene cove. A good fellow. Cant.
Bene darkmans. Goodnight. Cant.
Bene fearers. Counterfeiters of bills. Cant.
Bene feakers of gybes. Counterfeiters of passes. Cant.
Beneshiply. Worshipfully. Cant.
Benish. Foolish.
Benison. The beggar’s benison: May your ***** and purse never fail you.
Bermudas. A cant name for certain places in London, privileged against arrests, like the Mint in Southwark, Ben. Jonson. These privileges are abolished.
Bess, or Betty. A small instrument used by house-breakers to force open doors. Bring bess and glym; bring the instrument to force the door, and the dark lantern. Small flasks, like those for Florence wine, are also called betties.
Bess. See Brown bess.
Best. To the best in Christendom: i.e. the best **** in Christendom; a health formerly much in vogue.
Bet. A wager. —To bet. To lay a wager.
Betty martin. That’s my eye, Betty Martin; an answer to any one that attempts to impose or humbug.
Betwattled. Surprised, confounded, out of one’s senses; also bewrayed.
Bever. An afternoon’s luncheon; also a fine hat; beaver’s fur making the best hats,
Beverage. Garnish money, or money for drink, demanded of any one having a new suit of clothes.
Bible. A boatswain’s great axe. Sea term.
Bible oath. Supposed by the vulgar to be more binding than an oath taken on the Testament only, as being the bigger book, and generally containing both the Old and New Testament.
Biddy, or Chick-a-biddy. A chicken, and figuratively a young wench.
Bidet, commonly pronounced Biddy. A kind of tub, contrived for ladies to wash themselves, for which purpose they bestride it like a French poney, or post-horse, called in French bidets.
Bienly. Excellently. She wheedled so bienly; she coaxed or flattered so cleverly. French.
Bill at sight. To pay a bill at sight; to be ready at all times for the venereal act.
Bilboa. A sword. Bilboa in Spain was once famous for well-tempered blades: these are quoted by Falstaff, where he describes the manner in which he lay in the buck-basket. Bilboes, the stock; prison. Cant.
To bilk. To cheat. Let us bilk the rattling cove; let us cheat the hackney coachman of his fare. Cant. Bilking a coachman, a box-keeper, and a poor whore, were formerly, among men of the town, thought gallant actions.
Bill of sale. A widow’s weeds. See House to let.
Billingsgate language. Foul language, or abuse. Billingsgate is the market where the fishwomen assemble to purchase fish; and where, in their dealings and disputes, they are somewhat apt to leave decency and good manners a little on the left hand.
Bing. To go. Cant. Bing avast; get you gone. Binged avast in a darkmans; stole away in the night. Bing we to Rumeville: shall we go to London?
Bingo. Brandy or other spirituous liquor. Cant.
Bingo boy. A dram drinker. Cant.
Bingo mort. A female dram drinker. Cant.
Binnacle word. A fine or affected word, which sailors jeeringly offer to chalk up on the binnacle.
Bird and baby. The sign of the eagle and child.
Bird-witted. Inconsiderate, thoughtless, easily imposed on.
Birds of a feather. Rogues of the same gang.
Birth-day suit. He was in his birth-day suit, that is, stark naked.
Bishop. A mixture of wine and water, into which is put a roasted orange. Also one of the largest of Mrs. Philips’s purses, used to contain the others.
Bishoped, or To bishop. A term used among horse-dealers, for burning the mark into a horse’s tooth, after he has lost it by age; by bishoping, a horse is made to appear younger than he is. It is a common saying of milk that is burnt too, that the bishop has set his foot in it. Formerly, when a bishop passed through a village, all the inhabitants ran out of their houses to solicit his blessing, even leaving their milk, &c. on the fire, to take its chance: which, went burnt to, was said to be bishoped.
To bishop the balls, a term used among printers, to water them.
Bit. Money. He grappled the cull’s bit; he seized the man’s money. A bit is also the smallest coin in Jamaica, equal to about sixpence sterling.
Bitch. A she dog, or doggess; the most offensive appellation that can be given to an English woman, even more provoking than that of whore, as may he gathered from the regular Billinsgate or St. Giles’s answer —“I may be a whore, but can’t be a bitch.”
To bitch. To yield, or give up an attempt through fear. To stand bitch; to make tea, or do the honours of the tea-table, performing a female part: bitch there standing for woman, species for genius.
Bitch booby. A country wench. Military term.
Bite. A cheat; also a woman’s privities. The cull wapt the mort’s bite; the fellow enjoyed the wench heartily. Cant.
To bite. To over-reach, or impose; also to steal. — Cant. — Biting was once esteemed a kind of wit, similar to the humbug. An instance of it is given in the Spectator: A man under sentence of death having sold his body to a surgeon rather below the market price, on receiving the money, cried, A bite! I am to be hanged in chains. — To bite the roger; to steal a portmanteau. To bite the wiper, to steal a handkerchief. To bite on the bridle; to be pinched or reduced to difficulties. Hark ye, friend, whether do they bite in the collar or the cod-piece? Water wit to anglers.
Biter. A wench whose **** is ready to bite her a-se; a lascivious, rampant wench.
Blab. A tell-tale, or one incapable of keeping a secret
Black and white. In writing. I have it in black and white; I have written evidence.
Black art. The art of picking a lock. Cant.
Black a-se. A copper or kettle. The pot calls the kettle black a-se. Cant.
Black book. He is down in the black book, i.e. has a stain in his character. A black book is keep in most regiments, wherein the names of all persons sentenced to punishment are recorded.
Black box. A lawyer. Cant.
Black eye. We gave the bottle a black eye, i.e. drank it almost up. He cannot say black is the white of my eye; he cannot point out a blot in my character.
Black fly. The greatest drawback on the farmer is the black fly, i.e. the parson who takes tithe of the harvest.
Black guard. A shabby, mean fellow; a term said to be derived from a number of dirty, tattered roguish boys, who attended at the Horse Guards, and Parade in St. James’s Park, to black the boots and shoes of the soldiers, or to do any other dirty offices. These, from their constant attendance about the time of guard mounting, were nick-named the black-guards.
Black jack. A nick name given to the Recorder by the Thieves.
Black jack. A jug to drink out of, made of jacked leather.
Black joke. A popular tune to a song, having for the burden, “Her black joke and belly so white:” figuratively the black joke signifies the monosyllable. See Monosyllable.
Black indies. Newcastle upon Tyne, whose rich coal mines prove an Indies to the proprietors.
Blacklegs. A gambler or sharper on the turf or in the cockpit: so called, perhaps, from their appearing generally in boots; or else from game-cocks whose legs are always black.
Black monday. The first Monday after the school-boys holidays, or breaking up, when they are to go to school, and produce or repeat the tasks set them.
Black psalm. To sing the black psalm; to cry: a saying used to children.
Black spice racket. To rob chimney sweepers of their soot, bag and soot.
Black spy. The Devil.
Black strap. Bene Carlo wine; also port. A task of labour imposed on soldiers at Gibraltar, as a punishment for small offences.
Blank. To look blank; to appear disappointed or confounded.
Blanket hornpipe. The amorous congress.
Blarney. He has licked the blarney stone; he deals in the wonderful, or tips us the traveller. The blarney stone is a triangular stone on the very top of an ancient castle of that name in the county of Cork in Ireland, extremely difficult of access; so that to have ascended to it, was considered as a proof of perseverance, courage, and agility, whereof many are supposed to claim the honour, who never atchieved the adventure: and to tip the blarney, is figuratively used telling a marvellous story, or falsity; and also sometimes to express flattery. Irish.
A blasted fellow or Brimstone. An abandoned rogue or prostitute. Cant.
To Blast. To curse.
Bleached mort. A fair-complexioned wench.
Bleaters. Those cheated by Jack in a box. Cant. — See Jack in a box.
Bleating cheat. A sheep. Cant.
Bleating rig. Sheep stealing. Cant.
Bleeders. Spurs. He clapped his bleeders to his prad; be put spurs to his horse.
Bleeding cully. One who parts easily with his money, or bleeds freely.
Bleeding new. A metaphor borrowed from fish, which will not bleed when stale.
Blessing. A small quantity over and above the measure, usually given by hucksters dealing in peas, beans, and other vegetables.
Blind. A feint, pretence, or shift.
Blind cheeks. The breech. Buss blind cheeks; kiss mine a-se.
Blind excuse. A poor or insufficient excuse. A blind ale-house, lane, or alley; an obscure, or little known or frequented ale-house, lane, or alley.
Blind harpers. Beggars counterfeiting blindness, playing on fiddles, &c.
Blindman’s buff. A play used by children, where one being blinded by a handkerchief bound over his eyes, attempts to seize any one of the company, who all endeavour to avoid him; the person caught, must be blinded in his stead.
Blind cupid. The backside.
Blindman’s holiday. Night, darkness.
Block houses. Prisons, houses of correction, &c.
Blocked at both ends. Finished. The game is blocked at both ends; the game is ended.
Blood. A riotous disorderly fellow.
Blood for blood. A term used by tradesmen for bartering the different commodities in which they deal. Thus a hatter furnishing a hosier with a hat, and taking payment in stockings, is said to deal blood for blood.
Blood money. The reward given by the legislature on the conviction of highwaymen, burglars, &c.
Bloody back. A jeering appellation for a soldier, alluding to his scarlet coat.
Bloody. A favourite word used by the thieves in swearing, as bloody eyes, bloody rascal.
Bloss or Blowen. The pretended wife of a bully, or shoplifter. Cant.
To blot the skrip and jar it. To stand engaged or bound for any one. Cant.
Blow. He has bit the blow, i.e. he has stolen the goods. Cant.
Blowen. A mistress or whore of a gentleman of the scamp. The blowen kidded the swell into a snoozing ken, and shook him of his dummee and thimble; the girl inveigled the gentleman into a brothel and robbed him of his pocket book and watch.
Blower. A pipe. How the swell funks his blower and lushes red tape; what a smoke the gentleman makes with his pipe, and drinks brandy.
To blow the grounsils. To lie with a woman on the floor. Cant.
To blow the gab. To confess, or impeach a confederate. Cant.
Blow-up. A discovery, or the confusion occasioned by one.
A blowse, or Blowsabella. A woman whose hair is dishevelled, and hanging about her face; a slattern.
Blubber. The mouth. — I have stopped the cull’s blubber; I have stopped the fellow’s mouth, meant either by gagging or murdering him.
To blubber. To cry.
To sport blubber. Said of a large coarse woman, who exposes her bosom.
Blubber cheeks. Large flaccid cheeks, hanging like the fat or blubber of a whale.
Blue, To look blue; to be confounded, terrified, or disappointed. Blue as a razor; perhaps, blue as azure.
Blue boar. A venereal bubo.
Blue devils. Low spirits.
Blue flag. He has hoisted the blue flag; he has commenced publican, or taken a public house, an allusion to the blue aprons worn by publicans. See Admiral of the blue.
Blue pigeons. Thieves who steal lead off houses and churches. Cant. To fly a blue pigeon; to steal lead off houses or churches.
Blue plumb. A bullet. — Surfeited with a blue plumb; wounded with a bullet. A sortment of George R—‘s blue plumbs; a volley of ball, shot from soldiers’ firelocks.
Blue skin. A person begotten on a black woman by a white man. One of the blue squadron; any one having a cross of the black breed, or, as it is termed, a lick of the tar brush.
Blue tape, or Sky blue. Gin.
Blue ruin. Gin. Blue ribband; gin.
Bluff. Fierce, surly. He looked as bluff as bull beef.
Bluffer. An inn-keeper. Cant.
Blunderbuss. A short gun, with a wide bore, for carrying slugs; also a stupid, blundering fellow.
Blunt. Money. Cant.
To bluster. To talk big, to hector or bully.
Boarding school. Bridewell, Newgate, or any other prison, or house of correction.
Bob. A shoplifter’s assistant, or one that receives and carries off stolen goods. All is bob; all is safe. Cant.
Bob. A shilling.
Bobbed. Cheated, tricked, disappointed.
Bobbish. Smart, clever, spruce.
Bob stay. A rope which holds the bowsprit to the stem or cutwater. Figuratively, the frenum of a man’s yard.
Bob tail. A lewd woman, or one that plays with her tail; also an impotent man, or an eunuch. Tag, rag, and bobtail; a mob of all sorts of low people. To shift one’s bob; to move off, or go away. To bear a bob; to join in chorus with any singers. Also a term used by the sellers of game, for a partridge.
Body snatchers. Bum bailiffs.
Body of divinity bound in black calf. A parson.
Bog lander. An Irishman; Ireland being famous for its large bogs, which furnish the chief fuel in many parts of that kingdom.
Bog trotter. The same.
Bog house. The necessary house. To go to bog; to go to stool.
Bog latin. Barbarous Latin. Irish. — See Dog latin, and Apothecaries latin.
Bogy. Ask bogy, i.e. ask mine a-se. Sea wit.
Boh. Said to be the name of a Danish general, who so terrified his opponent Foh, that he caused him to bewray himself. Whence, when we smell a stink, it is custom to exclaim, Foh! i.e. I smell general Foh. He cannot say Boh to a goose; i.e. he is a cowardly or sheepish fellow. There is a story related of the celebrated Ben Jonson, who always dressed very plain; that being introduced to the presence of a nobleman, the peer, struck by his homely appearance and awkward manner, exclaimed, as if in doubt, “you Ben Johnson! why you look as if you could not say Boh to a goose!” “Boh!” replied the wit.
Bold. Bold as a miller’s shirt, which every day takes a rogue by the collar.
Bolt. A blunt arrow.
Bolt upright. As erect, or straight up, as an arrow set on its end.
To bolt. To run suddenly out of one’s house, or hiding place, through fear; a term borrowed from a rabbit-warren, where the rabbits are made to bolt, by sending ferrets into their burrows: we set the house on fire, and made him bolt. To bolt, also means to swallow meat without chewing: the farmer’s servants in Kent are famous for bolting large quantities of pickled pork.
Bones. Dice.
Bone box. The mouth. Shut your bone box; shut your mouth.
Bone picker. A footman.
Boned. Seized, apprehended, taken up by a constable. Cant.
Bolus. A nick name for an apothecary.
Bonesetter. A hard-trotting horse.
Booby, or Dog booby. An awkward lout, clodhopper, or country fellow. See Clodhopper and Lout. A bitch booby; a country wench.
Booby hutch. A one-horse chaise, noddy, buggy, or leathern bottle.
Books. Cards to play with. To plant the books; to place the cards in the pack in an unfair manner.
Book-keeper. One who never returns borrowed books. Out of one’s books; out of one’s fevor. Out of his books; out of debt.
Boot catcher. The servant at an inn whose business it is to clean the boots of the guest.
Boots. The youngest officer in a regimental mess, whose duty it is to skink, that is, to stir the fire, snuff the candles, and ring the bell. See Skink. — To ride in any one’s old boots; to marry or keep his cast-off mistress.
Booty. To play booty; cheating play, where the player purposely avoids winning.
Bo-peep. One who sometimes hides himself, and sometimes appears publicly abroad, is said to-play at bo-peep. Also one who lies perdue, or on the watch.
Borachio. A skin for holding wine, commonly a goat’s; also a nick name for a drunkard.
Borde. A shilling. A half borde; a sixpence.
Bordello. A bawdy house.
Bore. A tedious, troublesome man or woman, one who bores the ears of his hearers with an uninteresting tale; a term much in fashion about the years 1780 and 1781.
Born under a threepenny halfpenny planet, never to be worth a groat. Said of any person remarkably unsuccessful in his attempts or profession.
Botch. A nick name for a taylor.
Bothered or Both-eared. Talked to at both ears by different persons at the same time, confounded, confused. Irish Phrase.
Botherams. A convivial society.
Bottle-headed. Void of wit.
Bottom. A polite term for the posteriors. Also, in the sporting sense, strength and spirits to support fatigue; as a bottomed horse. Among bruisers it is used to express a hardy fellow, who will bear a good beating.
Bottomless pit. The monosyllable.
Boughs. Wide in the boughs; with large hips and posteriors.
Boughs. He is up in the boughs; he is in a passion.
To bounce. To brag or hector; also to tell an improbable story. To bully a man out of any thing. The kiddey bounced the swell of the blowen; the lad bullied the gentleman out of the girl.
Bouncer. A large man or woman; also a great lie.
Bouncing cheat. A bottle; from the explosion in drawing the cork. Cant.
Boung. A purse. Cant.
Boung nipper. A cut purse. Cant. — Formerly purses were worn at the girdle, from whence they were cut.
Boose, or Bouse. Drink.
Boosey. Drunk.
Bowsing ken. An ale-house or gin-shop.
Bowsprit. The nose, from its being the most projecting part of the human face, as the bowsprit is of a ship.
Bow-wow. The childish name for a dog; also a jeering appellation for a man born at Boston in America.
Bow-wow mutton. Dog’s flesh.
Bow-wow shop. A salesman’s shop in Monmouth-street; so called because the servant barks, and the master bites. See Barker.
Bowyer. One that draws a long bow, a dealer in the marvellous, a teller of improbable stories, a liar: perhaps from the wonderful shots frequently boasted of by archers.
To box the compass. To say or repeat the mariner’s compass, not only backwards or forwards, but also to be able to answer any and all questions respecting its divisions. Sea term.
To box the jesuit, and get cock roaches. A sea term for masturbation; a crime, it is said, much practised by the reverend fathers of that society.
Brace. The Brace tavern; a room in the S.E. corner of the King’s Bench, where, for the convenience of prisoners residing thereabouts, beer purchased at the tap-house was retailed at a halfpenny per pot advance. It was kept by two brothers of the name of Partridge, and thence called the Brace.
Bracket-faced. Ugly, hard-featured.
Bragget. Mead and ale sweetened with honey.
Braggadocia. vain-glorious fellow, a boaster.
Brains. If you had as much brains as guts, what a clever fellow you would be! a saying to a stupid fat fellow. To have some guts in his brains; to know something.
Bran-faced. Freckled. He was christened by a baker, he carries the bran in his face.
Brandy-faced. Red-faced, as if from drinking brandy.
Brandy. Brandy is Latin for a goose; a memento to prevent the animal from rising in the stomach by a glass of the good creature.
Brat. A child or infant.
Bray. A vicar of Bray; one who frequently changes his principles, always siding with the strongest party: an allusion to a vicar of Bray, in Berkshire, commemorated in a well-known ballad for the pliability of his conscience.
Brazen-faced. Bold-faced, shameless, impudent.
Bread and butter fashion. One slice upon the other. John and his maid were caught lying bread and butter fashion. — To quarrel with one’s bread and butter; to act contrary to one’s interest. To know on which side one’s bread is buttered; to know one’s interest, or what is best for one. It is no bread and butter of mine; I have no business with it; or rather, I won’t intermeddle, because I shall get nothing by it.
Break-teeth words. Hard words, difficult to pronounce.
Breaking shins. Borrowing money; perhaps from the figurative operation being, like the real one, extremely disagreeable to the patient.
Bread. Employment. Out of bread; out of employment. In bad bread; in a disagreeable scrape, or situation.
Bread basket. The stomach; a term used by boxers. I took him a punch in his bread basket; i.e. I gave him a blow in the stomach.
Breast fleet. He or she belongs to the breast fleet; i.e. is a Roman catholic; an appellation derived from their custom of beating their breasts in the confession of their sins.
Breeched. Money in the pocket: the swell is well breeched, let’s draw him; the gentleman has plenty of money in his pocket, let us rob him.
Breeches. To wear the breeches; a woman who governs her husband is said to wear the breeches.
Breeches bible. An edition of the Bible printed in 1598, wherein it is said that Adam and Eve sewed figleaves together, and made themselves breeches.
Breeze. To raise a breeze; to kick up a dust or breed a disturbance.
Bridge. To make a bridge of any one’s nose; to push the bottle past him, so as to deprive him of his turn of filling his glass; to pass one over. Also to play booty, or purposely to avoid winning.
Brim. (Abbreviation of Brimstone.) An abandoned woman; perhaps originally only a passionate or irascible woman, compared to brimstone for its inflammability.
Brisket beater. A Roman catholic. See breast fleet, and Craw thumper.
Bristol milk. A Spanish wine called sherry, much drunk at that place, particularly in the morning.
Bristol man. The son of an Irish thief and a Welch whore.
British champaigne. Porter.
Broganier. One who has a strong Irish pronunciation or accent.
Brogue. A particular kind of shoe without a heel, worn in Ireland, and figuratively used to signify the Irish accent.
Brother of the blade. A soldier
Buskin. A player.
String. A fiddler.
Whip. A coachman.
Brother starling. One who lies with the same woman, that is, builds in the same nest.
Broughtonian. A boxer: a disciple of Broughton, who was a beef-eater, and once the best boxer of his day.
Brown bess. A soldier’s firelock. To hug brown Bess; to carry a firelock, or serve as a private soldier.
Brown george. An ammunition loaf, A wig without powder; similar to the undress wig worn by his majesty.
Brown madam, or Miss brown. The monosyllable.
Brown study. Said of one absent, in a reverie, or thoughtful.
Bruiser. A boxer; one skilled in the ar of boxing also an inferior workman among chasers.
Brewes, or Browes. The fat scum from the pot in which salted beef is boiled.
To brush. To run away. Let us buy a brush and lope; let us go away or off. To have a brush with a woman; to lie with her. To have a brush with a man; to fight with him. The cove cracked the peter and bought a brush; the fellow broke open the trunk, and then ran away.
Brusher. A bumper, a full glass. See Bumper.
Bub. Strong beer.
Bubber. A drinking bowl; also a great drinker; a thief that steals plate from public houses. Cant.
The bubble. The party cheated, perhaps from his being like an air bubble, filled with words, which are only wind, instead of real property.
To bubble. To cheat.
To bar the bubble. To except against the general rule, that he who lays the odds must always be adjudged the loser: this is restricted to betts laid for liquor.
Bubbly jock. A turkey cock. Scotch.
Bubble and squeak. Beef and cabbage fried together. It is so called from its bubbling up and squeaking whilst over the fire.
Bube. The venereal disease.
Buck. A blind horse; also a gay debauchee.
To run a buck. To poll a bad vote at an election. —Irish term.
Buck bail. Bail given by a sharper for one of the gang.
A buck of the first head. One who in debauchery surpasses the rest of his companions, a blood or choice spirit. There are in London divers lodges or societies of Bucks, formed in imitation of the Free Masons: one was held at the Rose, in Monkwell-street, about the year 1705. The president is styled the Grand Buck. A buck sometimes signifies a cuckold.
Buck’s face. A cuckold.
Buck fitch. A lecherous old fellow.
Buckeen. A bully. Irish.
Bucket. To kick the bucket; to die.
Buckinger’s boot. The monosyllable. Matthew Buckinger was born without hands and legs; notwithstanding which he drew coats of arms very neatly, and could write the Lord’s Prayer within the compass of a shilling; he was married to a tall handsome woman, and traversed the country, shewing himself for money.
Buckles. Fetters.
Budge, or Sneaking budge. One that slips into houses in the dark, to steal cloaks or other clothes. Also lambs’ fur formerly used for doctors’ robes, whence they were called budge doctors. Standing budge; a thief’s scout or spy.
To budge. To move, or quit one’s station. Don’t budge from hence; i.e. don’t move from hence, stay here.
Budget. A wallet. To open the budget; a term used to signify the notification of the taxes required by the minister for the expences of the ensuing year; as To-morrow the minister will go to the house, and open the budget.
Bufe. A dog. Bufe’s nob; a dog’s head. Cant.
Bufe nabber. A dog stealer. Cant.
Buff. All in buff; stript to the skin, stark naked.
Buff. To stand buff; to stand the brunt. To swear as a witness. He buffed it home; and I was served; he swore hard against me, and I was found guilty.
Buffer. One that steals and kills horses and dogs for their skins; also an inn-keeper: in Ireland it signifies a boxer.
Buffer. A man who takes an oath: generally applied to Jew bail.
Buffle-headed. Confused, stupid.
Bug. A nick name given by the Irish to Englishmen; bugs having, as it is said, been introduced into Ireland by the English.
To bug. A cant word among journeymen hatters, signifying the exchanging some of the dearest materials of which a hat is made for others of less value. Hats are composed of the furs and wool of divers animals among which is a small portion of beavers’ fur. Bugging, is stealing the beaver, and substituting in lieu thereof an equal weight of some cheaper ingredient. — Bailiffs who take money to postpone or refrain the serving of a writ, are said to bug the writ.
Bug-hunter. An upholsterer.
Bugaboe. A scare-babe, or bully-beggar.
Bugaroch. Comely, handsome. Irish.
Buggy. A one-horse chaise.
Bugger. A blackguard, a rascal, a term of reproach. Mill the bloody bugger; beat the damned rascal.
Bulk and file. Two pickpockets; the bulk jostles the party to be robbed, and the file does the business.
Bulker. One who lodges all night on a bulk or projection before old-fashioned shop windows.
Bull. An Exchange Alley term for one who buys stock on speculation for time, i.e. agrees with the seller, called a Bear, to take a certain sum of stock at a future day, at a stated price: if at that day stock fetches more than the price agreed on, he receives the difference; if it falls or is cheaper, he either pays it, or becomes a lame duck, and waddles out of the Alley. See Lame duck and Bear.
Bull. A blunder; from one Obadiah Bull, a blundering lawyer of London, who lived in the reign of Henery Vii. by a bull is now always meant a blunder made by an Irishman. A bull was also the name of false hair formerly much worn by women. To look like bull beef, or as bluff as bull beef; to look fierce or surly. Town bull, a great whore-master.
Bull. A crown piece. A half bull; half a crown.
Bull beggar, or Bully beggar. An imaginary being with which children are threatened by servants and nurses, like raw head and bloody bones.
Bull calf. A great hulkey or clumsy fellow. See Hulkey.
Bull chin. A fat chubby child.
Bull dogs. Pistols.
Bull hankers. Persons who over-drive bulls, or frequent bull baits.
Bull’s eye. A crown-piece.
Bull’s feather. A horn: he wears the bull’s feather; he is a cuckold.
To bullock. To hector, bounce, or bully.
Bully. A cowardly fellow, who gives himself airs of great bravery. A bully huff cap; a hector. See Hector.
Bully back. A bully to a bawdy-house; one who is kept in pay, to oblige the frequenters of the house to submit to the impositions of the mother abbess, or bawd; and who also sometimes pretends to be the husband of one of the ladies, and under that pretence extorts money from greenhorns, or ignorant young men, whom he finds with her. See Greenhorn.
Bully cock. One who foments quarrels in order to rob the persons quarrelling.
Bully ruffians. Highwaymen who attack passengers with paths and imprecations.
Bully trap. A brave man with a mild or effeminate appearance, by whom bullies are frequently taken in.
Bum. the breech, or backside.
To bum. To arrest a debtor. The gill bummed the swell for a thimble; the tradesman arrested the gentleman for a watch.
Bum trap. A sheriff’s officer who arrests debtors. Ware hawke! the bum traps are fly to our panney; keep a good look out, the bailiffs know where our house is situated.
Bum bailiff. A sheriff’s officer, who arrests debtors; so called perhaps from following his prey, and being at their bums, or, as the vulgar phrase is, hard at their a-ses. Blackstone says, it is a corruption of bound bailiff, from their being obliged to give bond for their good behaviour.
Bum brusher. A schoolmaster.
Bum boat. A boat attending ships to retail greens, drams, &c. commonly rowed by a woman; a kind of floating chandler’s shop,
Bum fodder. Soft paper for the necessary house or torchecul.
Bumfiddle. The backside, the breech. See Ars musica.
Bumbo. Brandy, water, and sugar; also the negro name for the private parts of a woman.
Bumkin. A raw country fellow.
Bummed. Arrested.
Bumper. A full glass; in all likelihood from its convexity or bump at the top: some derive it from a full glass formerly drunk to the health of the pope —Au bon pere.
Bumping. A ceremony performed on boys perambulating the bounds of the parish on Whit-monday, when they have their posteriors bumped against the stones marking the boundaries, in order to fix them in their memory.
Bun. A common name for a rabbit, also for the monosyllable. To touch bun for luck; a practice observed among sailors going on a cruize.
Bundling. A man and woman sleeping in the same bed, he with his small clothes, and she with her petticoats on; an expedient practised in America on a scarcity of beds, where, on such an occasion, husbands and parents frequently permitted travellers to bundle with their wives and daughters. This custom is now abolished. See Duke of Rochefoucalt’s Travels in America,
Bung upwards. Said of a person lying on his face.
Bung your eye. Drink a dram; strictly speaking, to drink till one’s eye is bunged up or closed.
Bunt. An apron.
Bunter. A low dirty prostitute, half whore and half beggar.
Buntlings. Petticoats. Cant.
Burn crust. A jocular name for a baker.
Burn the ken. Strollers living in an alehouse without paying their quarters, are said to burn the ken. Cant.
Burning shame. A lighted candle stuck into the parts of a woman, certainly not intended by nature for a candlestick.
Burner. A clap. The blowen tipped the swell a burner; the girl gave the gentleman a clap.
Burner. He is no burner of navigable rivers; i.e. he is no conjuror, or man of extraordinary abilities; or rather, he is, but a simple fellow. See Thames.
Burnt. Poxed or clapped. He was sent out a sacrifice, and came home a burnt offering; a saying of seamen who have caught the venereal disease abroad. He has burnt his fingers; he has suffered by meddling.
Burr. A hanger on, or dependant; an allusion to the field burrs, which are not easily got rid of. Also the Northumbrian pronunciation: the people of that country, but chiefly about Newcastle and Morpeth, are said to have a burr in their throats, particularly called the Newcastle burr.
Bushel bubby. A full breasted woman.
Busk. A piece of whalebone or ivory, formerly worn by women, to stiffen the forepart of their stays: hence the toast — Both ends of the busk.
Buss beggar. An old superannuated fumbler, whom none but beggars will suffer to kiss them.
Bus-napper. A constable. Cant.
Bus-napper’s kenchin. A watchman. Cant.
Busy. As busy is the devil in a high wind; as busy as a hen with one chick.
Butcher’s dog. To be like a butcher’s dog, i.e. lie by the beef without touching it; a simile often applicable to married men.
Butcher’s horse. That must have been a butcher’s horse, by his carrying a calf so well; a vulgar joke on an awkward rider.
Butt. A dependant, poor relation, or simpleton, on whom all kinds of practical jokes are played off; and who serves as a butt for all the shafts of wit and ridicule.
Butter box. A Dutchman, from the great quantity of butter eaten by the people of that country.
Buttered bun. One lying with a woman that has just lain with another man, is said to have a buttered bun.
Butter and eggs trot. A kind of short jogg trot, such as is used by women going to market, with butter and eggs. — he looks as if butter would not melt in her mouth, yet I warrant you cheese would not choak her; a saying of a demure looking woman, of suspected character. Don’t make butter dear; a gird at the patient angler.
Buttock. A whore. Cant.
Buttock broker. A bawd, or match-maker. Cant.
Buttock ball. The amorous congress. Cant.
Buttock and file. A common whore and a pick-pocket. Cant.
Buttock and twang, or Down buttock and sham file. A common whore, but no pickpocket.
Buttock and tongue. A scolding wife.
Buttocking shop. A brothel.
Button. A bad shilling, among coiners. His a-se makes buttons; he is ready to bewray himself through fear. Cant.
Buzman. A pickpocket. Cant.
Buzzard. A simple fellow. A blind buzzard: a purblind man or woman.
Bye blow. A bastard.
Cabbage. Cloth, stuff, or silkpurloined by laylors from their employers, which they deposit in a place called Hell, or their Eye: from the first, when taxed, with their knavery, they equivocally swear, that if they have taken any, they wish they may find it in Hell; or, alluding to the second, protest, that what they have over and above is not more than they could put in their Eye. — When the scrotum is relaxed or whiffled, it is said they will not cabbage.
Cab. A brothel. Mother: how many tails have you in your cab? how many girls have you in your bawdy house?
Cacafeogo. A sh-te-fire, a furious braggadocio or bully huff.
Cackle. To blab, or discover secrets. The cull is leaky, and cackles; the rogue tells all. Cant. See Leaky.
Cackler. A hen.
Cackler’s ken. A hen roost. Cant.
Cackling cheats. Fowls. Cant.
Caddee. A helper. An under-strapper.
Cadge. To beg. Cadge the swells; beg of the gentlemen.
Caffan. Cheese. Cant.
Cagg. To cagg; a military term used by the private soldiers, signifying a solemn vow or resolution not to get drunk for a certain time; or, as the term is, till their cagg is out: which vow is commonly observed with the strictest exactness. Ex. I have cagg’d myself for six months. Excuse me this time, and I will cagg myself for a year. This term is also used in the same sense among the common people of Scotland, where it is performed with divers ceremonies.
Cag. To be cagged. To be sulky or out of humour. The cove carries the cag; the man is vexed or sullen.
Cag magg. Bits and scraps of provisions. Bad meat.
Cagg maggs. Old Lincolnshire geese, which having been plucked ten or twelve years, are sent up to London to feast the cockneys.
Cake, or Cakey. A foolish fellow.
Calf-skin fiddle. A drum. To smack calf’s skin; to kiss the book in taking an oath. It is held by the St. Giles’s casuists, that by kissing one’s thumb instead of smacking calf’s skin, the guilt of taking a false oath is avoided.
Calves. His calves are gone to grass; a saying of a man with slender legs without calves. Veal will be cheap, calves fall; said of a man whose calves fall away.
Calves head club. A club instituted by the Independents and Presbyterians, to commemorate the decapitation of King Charles I. Their chief fare was calves heads; and they drank their wine and ale out of calves skulls.
Calibogus. Rum and spruce beer, American beverage.
Calle. A cloak or gown. Cant.
Cambridge fortune. A wind-mill and a water-mill, used to signify a woman without any but personal endowments.
Cambridge oak. A willow.
Cambrade. A chamber fellow; a Spanish military term. Soldiers were in that country divided into chambers, five men making a chamber, whence it was generally used to signify companion.
Camesa. A shirt or shift. Cant. Spanish.
Camp candlestick. A bottle, or soldier’s bayonet.
Campbell’s academy. The hulks or lighters, on board of which felons are condemned to hard labour. Mr. Campbell was the first director of them. See Academy and Floating academy.
Canary bird. A jail bird, a person used to be kept in a cage; also, in the canting sense, guineas.
Candlesticks. Bad, small, or untunable bells. Hark! how the candlesticks rattle.
Candy. Drunk. Irish.
Cane. To lay Cane upon Abel; to beat any one with a cane or stick.
Cank. Dumb.
Cannister. The head. To mill his cannister; to break his head.
Cannikin. A small can: also, in the canting sense, the plague.
Cant. An hypocrite, a double-tongue palavering fellow. See Palaver.
Cant. To cant; to toss or throw: as, Cant a slug into your bread room; drink a dram. Sea wit.
Canticle. A parish clerk.
Canting. Preaching with a whining, affected tone, perhaps a corruption of chaunting; some derive it from Andrew Cant, a famous Scotch preacher, who used that whining manner of expression. Also a kind of gibberish used by thieves and gypsies, called likewise pedlar’s French, the slang, &c. &c.
Canters, or The canting crew. Thieves, beggars, and gypsies, or any others using the canting lingo. See Lingo.
Canterbury story. A long roundabout tale.
To cap. To take one’s oath. I will cap downright; I will swear home. Cant.
To cap. To take off one’s hat or cap. To cap the quadrangle; a lesson of humility, or rather servility, taught undergraduates at the university, where they are obliged to cross the area of the college cap in hand, in reverence to the fellows who sometimes walk there. The same ceremony is observed on coming on the quarter deck of ships of war, although no officer should be on it.
To cap. To support another’s assertion or tale. To assist a man in cheating. The file kidded the joskin with sham books, and his pall capped; the deep one cheated the countryman with false cards, and his confederate assisted in the fraud.
Cap acquaintance. Persons slightly acquainted, or only so far as mutually to salute with the hat on meeting. A woman who endeavours to attract the notice of any particular man, is said to set her cap at him.
Caper merchant. A dancing master, or hop merchant; marchand des capriolles. French term. — To cut papers; to leap or jump in dancing. See Hop merchant.
Capping verses. Repeating Latin Verses in turn, beginning with the letter with which the last speaker left off.
Capon. A castrated cock, also an eunuch.
Capricornified. Cuckolded, hornified.
Capsize. To overturn or reverse. He took his broth till he capsized; he drank till he fell out of his chair. Sea Term.
Captain. Led captain; an humble dependant in a great family, who for a precarious subsistence, and distant hopes of preferment, suffers every kind of indignity, and is the butt of every species of joke or ill-humour. The small provision made for officers of the army and navy in time of peace, obliges many in both services to occupy this wretched station. The idea of the appellation is taken from a led horse, many of which for magnificence appear in the retinues of great personages on solemn occasions, such as processions, &c.
Captain copperthorne’s crew. All officers; a saying of a company where everyone strives to rule.
Captain lieutenant. Meat between veal and beef, the flesh of an old calf; a military simile, drawn from the officer of that denomination, who has only the pay of a lieutenant, with the rank of captain; and so is not entirely one or the other, but between both.
Captain podd. A celebrated master of a puppet-shew, in Ben Johnson’s time, whose name became a common one to signify any of that fraternity.
Captain queernabs. A shabby ill-dressed fellow.
Captain sharp. A cheating bully, or one in a set of gamblers, whose office is to bully any pigeon, who, suspecting roguery, refuses to pay what he has lost. Cant.
Captain tom. The leader of a mob; also the mob itself.
Caravan. A large sum of money; also, a person cheated of such sum. Cant.
Carbuncle face. A red face, full of pimples.
Cardinal. A cloak in fashion about the year 1760.
To Carouse. To drink freely or deep: from the German word expressing All out.
Carriers. A set of rogues who are employed to look out and watch upon the roads, at inns, &c. in order to carry information to their respective gangs, of a booty in prospect.
Carriers. Pigeons which carry expresses.
Carrion hunter. An undertaker; called also a cold cook, and death hunter. See Cold cook and Death hunter.
Carrots. Red hair.
Carrotty-pated. Ginger-hackled, red-haired. See Ginger-hackled.
Carry witchet. A sort of conundrum, puzzlewit, or riddle.
Cart. To put the cart before the horse; to mention the last part of a story first. To be flogged at the cart’s a-se or tail; persons guilty of petty larceny are frequently sentenced to be tied to the tail of a cart, and whipped by the common executioner, for a certain distance: the degree of severity in the execution is left to the discretion of the executioner, who, it is said, has cats of nine tails of all prices.
Carting. The punishment formerly inflicted on bawds, who were placed in a tumbrel or cart, and led through a town, that their persons might be known.
Carvel’s ring. The private parts of a woman. Ham Carvel, a jealous old doctor, being in bed with his wife, dreamed that the Devil gave him a ring, which, so long as he had it on his finger, would prevent his being made a cuckold: waking he found he had got his finger the Lord knows where. See Rabelais, and Prior’s versification of the story.
To cascade. To vomit.
Case. A house; perhaps from the Italian Casa. In the canting lingo it meant store or ware house, as well as a dwelling house. Tout that case; mark or observe that house. It is all bob, now let’s dub the gig of the case; now the coast is clear, let us break open the door of the house.
Case vrow. A prostitute attached to a particular bawdy house.
Cash, or Caffan. Cheese; Cant. See Caffan.
Caster. A cloak. Cant.
Castor. A hat. To prig a castor; to steal a hat.
Casting up one’s accounts. Vomiting.
Cat. A common prostitute. An old cat; a cross old woman.
Cat-heads. A Woman’s breasts. Sea phrase.
To cat, or Shoot the cat. To vomit from drunkenness.
Cat and bagpipean society. A society which met at their office in the great western road: in their summons, published in the daily papers, it was added, that the kittens might come with the old cats without being scratched.
Cat call. A kind of whistle, chiefly used at theatres, to interrupt the actors, and damn a new piece. It derives its name from one of its sounds, which greatly resembles the modulation of an intriguing boar cat.
Cat harping fashion. Drinking cross-ways, and not, as usual, over the left thumb. Sea term.
Cat in pan. To turn cat in pan, to change sides or parties; supposed originally to have been to turn Cate or Cake in pan.
Cat’s foot. To live under the cat’s foot; to be under the dominion of a wife hen-pecked. To live like dog and cat; spoken of married persons who live unhappily together. As many lives as a cat; cats, according to vulgar naturalists, have nine lives, that is one less than a woman. No more chance than a cat in hell without claws; said of one who enters into a dispute or quarrel with one greatly above his match.
Cat lap. Tea, called also scandal broth. See Scandal broth.
Cat match. When a rook or cully is engaged amongst bad bowlers.
Cat of nine tails. A scourge composed of nine strings of whip-cord, each string having nine knots.
Cat’s paw. To be made a cat’s paw of; to be made a tool or instrument to accomplish the purpose of another: an allusion to the story of a monkey, who made use of a cat’s paw to scratch a roasted chesnut out of the fire.
Cat’s sleep. Counterfeit sleep: cats often counterfeiting sleep, to decoy their prey near them, and then suddenly spring on them.
Cat sticks. Thin legs, compared to sticks with which boys play at cat. See Trapsticks.
Cat whipping, or Whipping the cat. A trick often practised on ignorant country fellows, vain of their strength, by laying a wager with them that they may be pulled through a pond by a cat. The bet being made, a rope is fixed round the waist of the party to be catted, and the end thrown across the pond, to which the cat is also fastened by a packthread, and three or four sturdy fellows are appointed to lead and whip the cat; these on a signal given, seize the end of the cord, and pretending to whip the cat, haul the astonished booby through the water. — To whip the cat, is also a term among tailors for working jobs at private houses, as practised in the country.
Catamaran. An old scraggy woman; from a kind of float made of spars and yards lashed together, for saving ship-wrecked persons.
Catch club. A member of the patch club; a bum bailiff.
Catch fart. A footboy; so called from such servants commonly following close behind their master or mistress.
Catch penny. Any temporary contrivance to raise a contribution on the public.
Catch pole. A bum bailiff, or sheriff’s officer.
Catching harvest. A dangerous time for a robbery, when many persons are on the road, on account of a horse-race, fair, or some other public meeting.
Cater cousins. Good friends. He and I are not cater cousins, i.e. we are not even cousins in the fourth degree, or four times removed; that is, we have not the least friendly connexion.
Caterpillar. A nick name for a soldier. In the year 1745, a soldier quartered at a house near Derby, was desired by his landlord to call upon him, whenever he came that way; for, added he, soldiers are the pillars of the nation. The rebellion being finished, it happened the same regiment was quartered in Derbyshire, when the soldier resolved to accept of his landlord’s invitation, and accordingly obtained leave to go to him: but, on his arrival, he was greatly surprised to find a very cold reception; whereupon expostulating with his landlord, he reminded him of his invitation, and the circumstance of his having said, soldiers were the pillars of the nation. If I did, answered the host, I meant CateRpiliars.
Caterwauling. Going out in the night in search of intrigues, like a cat in the gutters.
Cathedral. Old-fashioned. An old cathedral-bedstead, chair, &c.
Cattle. Sad cattle: whores or gypsies. Black cattle, bugs. Cant.
Cavaulting school. A Bawdy-house.
Caudge-pawed. Left-handed.
Cauliflower. A large white wig, such as is commonly worn by the dignified clergy, and was formerly by physicians. Also the private parts of a woman; the reason for which appellation is given in the following story: A woman, who was giving evidence in a cause wherein it was necessary to express those parts, made use of the term cauliflower; for which the judge on the bench, a peevish old fellow, reproved her, saying she might as well call it artichoke. Not so, my lord, replied she; for an artichoke has a bottom, but a **** and a cauliflower have none.
Cautions. The four cautions: I. Beware of a woman before. — II. Beware of a horse behind. —Iii. Beware of a cart side-ways. — IV. Beware of a priest every way.
Caw-handed, or Caw-pawed. Awkward, not dextrous, ready, or nimble.
Caxon. An old weather-beaten wig.
Cent per cent. An usurer.
Chafed. Well beaten; from Chauffe, warmed.
Chalkers. Men of wit, in Ireland, who in the night amuse themselves with cutting inoffensive passengers across the face with a knife. They are somewhat like those facetious gentlemen some time ago known in England by the title of Sweaters and Mohocks.
Chalking. The amusement above described.
Chap. A fellow; An odd chap; A strange fellow.
Chaperon. The cicisbeo, or gentleman usher to a lady; from the French.
Chapt. Dry or thirsty.
Charactered, or Lettered. Burnt in the hand. They have palmed the character upon him; they have burned him in the hand, Cant. — See Lettered.
Charm. A picklock. Cant.
Charren. The smoke of Charren. — His eyes water from the smoke of Charren; a man of that place coming out of his house weeping, because his wife had beat him, told his neighbours the smoke had made his eyes water.
Chatter box. One whose tongue runs twelve score to the dozen, a chattering man or woman.
Chatter broth. Tea. See Cat lap and Scandal broth.
Chatts. Lice: perhaps an abbreviation of chattels, lice being the chief live stock of chattels of beggars, gypsies, and the rest of the canting crew. Cant. — Also, according to the canting academy, the gallows.
Chates. The gallows. Cant.
Chaunter culls. Grub-street writers, who compose songs, carrols, &c. for ballad-singers. Cant.
Chaunt. A song.
To chaunt. To sing. To publish an account in the newspapers. The kiddey was chaunted for a toby; his examination concerning a highway robbery was published in the papers.
Chaw bacon. A countryman. A stupid fellow.
Cheapside. He came at it by way of Cheapside; he gave little or nothing for it, he bought it cheap.
Cheats. Sham sleeves to put over a dirty shift or shirt. See Shams.
Cheek by jowl. Side by side, hand to fist.
Cheeks. Ask cheeks near cunnyborough; the repartee of a St. Gilse’s fair one, who bids you ask her backside, anglice her a-se. A like answer is current in France: any one asking the road or distance to Macon, a city near Lyons, would be answered by a French lady of easy virtue, ‘Mettez votre nez dans mon cul, & vous serrez dans les Fauxbourgs.’
Cheese-toaster. A sword.
Cheese it; Be silent, be quiet, don’t do it. Cheese it, the coves are fly; be silent, the people understand our discourse.
Cheeser. A strong smelling fart.
Chelsea. A village near London, famous for the military hospital. To get Chelsea; to obtain the benefit of that hospital. Dead Chelsea, by G-d! an exclamation uttered by a grenadier at Fontenoy, on having his leg carried away by a cannon-ball.
Chest of tools. A shoe-black’s brush and wig, &c. Irish.
Cherry-coloured cat. A black cat, there being black cherries as well as red.
Cherubims. Peevish children, becausecherubimsand seraphims continually do cry.
Cheshire cat. He grins like a Cheshire cat; said of anyone who shews his teeth and gums in laughing.
Chick-a-biddy. A chicken, so called to and by little children.
Chicken-breasted. Said of a woman with scarce any breasts.
Chicken butcher. A poulterer.
Chicken-hammed. Persons whose legs and thighs are bent or archward outwards.
Chicken-hearted. Fearful, cowardly.
Chicken nabob. One returned from the East Indies with but a moderate fortune of fifty or sixty thousand pounds, a diminutive nabob: a term borrowed from the chicken turtle.
Child. To eat a child; to partake of a treat given to the parish officers, in part of commutation for a bastard child the common price was formerly ten pounds and a greasy chiu. See Greasy chin.
Chimney chops. An abusive appellation for a negro.
Chink. Money.
Chip. A child. A chip of the old block; a child who either in person or sentiments resembles its father or mother.
Chip. A brother chip; a person of the same trade or calling.
Chips, A nick name for a carpenter.
Chirping merry. Exhilarated with liquor. Chirping glass, a cheerful glass, that makes the company chirp like birds in spring.
Chit. An infant or baby.
Chitterlins. The bowels. There is a rumpus among my bowels, i.e. I have the colic. The frill of a shirt.
Chitty-faced. Baby-faced; said of one who has a childish look.
Chive, or Chiff. A knife, file: or saw. To chive the darbies; to file off the irons or fetters. To chive the bouhgs of the frows; to cut off women’s pockets.
Chivey. I gave him a good chivey; I gave him, a hearty Scolding.
Chiving lay. Cutting the braces of coaches behind, on which the coachman quitting the box, an accomplice robs the boot; also, formerly, cutting the back of the coach to steal the fine large wigs then worn.
Choak. Choak away, the churchyard’s near; a jocular saying to a person taken with a violent fit of coughing, or who has swallowed any thing, as it is called the wrong way; Choak, chicken, more are hatching: a like consolation.
Choak pear. Figuratively, an unanswerable objection: also a machine formerly used in Holland by robbers; it was of iron, shaped like a pear; this they forced into the mouths of persons from whom they intended to extort money; and on turning a key, certain interior springs thrust forth a number of points, in all directions, which so enlarged it, that it could not be taken out of the mouth: and the iron, being case-hardened, could not be filed: the only methods of getting rid of it, were either by cutting the mouth, or advertizing a reward for the key, These pears were also called pears of agony.
Choaking pye, or Cold pye, A punishment inflicted on any person sleeping in company: it consists in wrapping up cotton in a case or tube of paper, setting it on fire, and directing the smoke up the nostrils of the sleeper. See Howell’s cotgrave.
Chocolate. To give chocolate without sugar; to reprove. Military term.
Choice spirit. A thoughtless, laughing, singing, drunken fellow.
Chop. A blow. Boxing term.
To chop and change. To exchange backwards and forwards. To chop, in the canting sense, means making dispatch, or hurrying over any business: ex. The Autem bawler will soon quit the Hums, for he Chops up the Whiners; the parson will soon quit the pulpit, for he hurries over the prayers. See Autem bawler, hums, and Whiners,
Chop churches. Simoniacal dealers in livings, or other ecclesiastical preferments.
Chopping, lusty. A chopping boy or girl; a lusty child.
Chops. The mouth. I gave him a wherrit, or a souse, across the chops; I gave him a blow over the mouth, See Wherrit.
Chop-stick. A fork.
Chouder. A sea-dish, composed of fresh fish, salt pork, herbs, and sea-biscuits, laid in different layers, and stewed together.
To chouse. To cheat or trick: he choused me out of it. Chouse is also the term for a game like chuck-farthing.
Christ-cross row. The alphabet in a horn-book: called Christ-cross Row, from having, as an Irishman observed, Christ’s cross Prefixed before and After the twenty-four letters.
Christening. Erasing the name of the true maker from a stolen watch, and engraving a fictitious one in its place.
Christian poney. A chairman.
Christian. A tradesman who has faith, i.e. will give credit.
Christmas compliments. A cough, kibed heels, and a snotty nose.
Chub. He is a young chub, or a mere chub; i.e. a foolish fellow, easily imposed on: an illusion to a fish of that name, easily taken.
Chubby. Round-faced, plump.
Chuck. My chuck; a term of endearment.
Chuck farthing. A parish clerk.
Chuckle-headed. Stupid, thick-headed.
Chuffy. Round-faced, chubby.
Chum. A chamber-fellow, particularly at the universities and in prison.
Chummage. Money paid by the richer sort of prisoners in the Fleet and King’s Bench, to the poorer, for their share of a room. When prisons are very full, which is too often the case, particularly on the eve of an insolvent act, two or three persons are obliged to sleep in a room. A prisoner who can pay for being alone, chuses two poor chums, who for a stipulated price, called chummage, give up their share of the room, and sleep on the stairs, or, as the term is, ruff it.
Chunk. Among printers, a journeyman who refuses to work for legal wages; the same as the flint among taylors. See Flint.
Church warden. A Sussex name fora shag, or cormorant, probably from its voracity.
Church work. Said of any work that advances slowly.
Churchyard cough. A cough that is likely to terminate in death.
Churk. The udder.
Churl. Originally, a labourer or husbandman: figuratively a rude, surly, boorish fellow. To put a churl upon a gentleman; to drink malt liquor immediately after having drunk wine.
Cinder garbler. A servant maid, from her business of sifting the ashes from the cinders. Custom-house wit.
Circumbendibus. A roundabout way, or story. He took such a circumbendibus; he took such a circuit.
Cit. A citizen of London.
City college. Newgate.
Civility money. A reward claimed by bailiffs for executing their office with civility.
Civil reception. A house of civil reception; a bawdy-house, or nanny-house. See Nanny-house.
Clack. A tongue, chiefly applied to women; a simile drawn from the clack of a water-mill.
Clack-loft. A pulpit, so called by orator Henley.
Clammed. Starved.
Clan. A family’s tribe or brotherhood; a word much used in Scotland. The head of the clan; the chief: an allusion to a story of a Scotchman, who, when a very large louse crept down his arm, put him back again, saying he was the head of the clan, and that, if injured, all the rest would resent it.
Clank. A silver tankard. Cant.
Clank napper. A silver tankard stealer. See Rum bubber.
Clanker. A great lie.
Clap. A venereal taint. He went out by Had’em, and came round by Clapham home; i.e. he went out a wenching, and got a clap.
Clap on the shoulder. An arrest for debt; whence a bum bailiff is called a shoulder-clapper.
Clapper. The tongue of a bell, and figuratively of a man or woman.
Clapper claw. To scold, to abuse, or claw off with the tongue.
Clapperdogeon. A beggar born. Cant.
Claret. French red wine; figuratively, blood. I tapped his claret; I broke his head, and made the blood run. Claret-faced; red-faced.
Clawed off. Severely beaten or whipped; also smartly poxed or clapped.
Clear. Very drunk. The cull is clear, let’s bite him; the fellow is very drunk, let’s cheat him. Cant.
Cleaver. One that will cleave; used of a forward or wanton woman.
Clean. Expert; clever. Amongst the knuckling coves he is reckoned very clean; he is considered very expert as a pickpocket.
Clerked. Soothed, funned, imposed on. The cull will not be clerked; i.e. the fellow will not be imposed on by fair words.
Cleymes. Artificial sores, made by beggars to excite charity.
Click. A blow. A click in the muns; a blow or knock in the face. Cant.
To click. To snatch. To click a nab; to snatch a hat. Cant.
Clicker. A salesman’s servant; also, one who proportions out the different shares of the booty among thieves.
Clicket. Copulation of foxes; and thence used, in a canting sense, for that of men and women: as, The cull and the mort are at clicket in the dyke; the man and woman are copulating in the ditch.
Climb. To climb the three trees with a ladder; to ascend the gallows.
Clinch. A pun or quibble. To clinch, or to clinch the nail; to confirm an improbable story by another: as, A man swore he drove a tenpenny nail through the moon; a bystander said it was true, for he was on the other side and clinched it.
Clink. A place in the Borough of Southwark, formerly privileged from arrests; and inhabited by lawless vagabonds of every denomination, called, from the place of their residence, clinkers. Also a gaol, from the clinking of the prisoners’ chains or fetters: he is gone to clink.
Clinkers. A kind of small Dutch bricks; also irons worn by prisoners; a crafty fellow.
To clip. To hug or embrace: to clip and cling. To clip the coin; to diminish the current coin. To clip the king’s English; to be unable to speak plain through drunkenness.
Cloak twitchers. Rogues who lurk about the entrances into dark alleys, and bye-lanes, to snatch cloaks from the shoulders of passengers.
Clod hopper. A country farmer, or ploughman.
Clod pate. A dull, heavy booby.
Clod pole. The same.
Close. As close as God’s curse to a whore’s a-se: close as shirt and shitten a-se.
Close-fisted. Covetous or stingy.
Closh. A general name given by the mobility to Dutch seamen, being a corruption of Claus, the abbreviation of Nicholas, a name very common among the men of that nation.
Cloth market. He is just come from the cloth market, i.e. from between the sheets, he is just risen from bed.
Cloud. Tobacco. Under a cloud; in adversity.
Cloven, cleave, or Cleft. A term used for a woman who passes for a maid, but is not one.
Cloven foot. To spy the cloven foot in any business; to discover some roguery or something bad in it: a saying that alludes to a piece of vulgar superstition, which is, that, let the Devil transform himself into what shape he will, he cannot hide his cloven foot
To chuck. To shew a propensity for a man. The mors chucks; the wench wants to be doing.
Clout. A blow. I’ll give you a clout on your jolly nob; I’ll give you a blow on your head. It also means a handkerchief. Cant. Any pocket handkerchief except a silk one.
Clouted shoon. Shoes tipped with iron.
Clouting lay. Picking pockets of handkerchiefs.
Clover. To be, or live, in clover; to live luxuriously. Clover is the most desirable food for cattle.
Clowes. Rogues.
Cloy. To steal. To cloy the clout; to steal the handkerchief. To cloy the lour; to steal money. Cant.
Cloves. Thieves, robbers, &c.
Club. A meeting or association, where each man is to spend an equal and stated sum, called his club.
Club law. Argumentum bacculinum, in which an oaken stick is a better plea than an act of parliament.
Clump. A lump. Clumpish; lumpish, stupid.
Clunch. An awkward clownish fellow.
To clutch the fist. To clench or shut the hand. Clutch fisted; covetous, stingy. See Close-fisted.
Clutches. Hands, gripe, power.
Clutter. A stir, noise, or racket: what a confounded clutter here is!
Cly. Money; also a pocket. He has filed the cly; he has picked a pocket. Cant.
Cly the jerk: To be whipped. Cant.
Clyster pipe. A nick name for an apothecary.
Coach wheel. A half crown piece is a fore coach wheel, and a crown piece a hind coach wheel; the fore wheels of a coach being less than the hind ones.
To coax. To fondle, or wheedle. To coax a pair of stockings; to pull down the part soiled into the shoes, so as to give a dirty pair of stockings the appearance of clean ones. Coaxing is also used, instead of darning, to hide the holes about the ancles.
Cob. A Spanish dollar.
Cob, or Cobbing. A punishment used by the seamen for petty offences, or irregularities, among themselves: it consists in bastonadoing the offender on the posteriors with a cobbing stick, or pipe staff; the number usually inflicted is a dozen. At the first stroke the executioner repeats the word Watch, on which all persons present are to take off their hats, on pain of like punishment: the last stroke is always given as hard as possible, and is called The Purse. Ashore, among soldiers, where this punishment is sometimes adopted, Watch and The purse are not included in the number, but given over and above, or, in the vulgar phrase, free gratis for nothing. This piece of discipline is also inflicted in Ireland, by the school-boys, on persons coming into the school without taking off their hats; it is there called school butter.
Cobble. A kind of boat.
To cobble. To mend, or patch; likewise to do a thing in a bungling manner.
Cobble colter. A turkey.
Cobbler. A mender of shoes, an improver of the understandings of his customers; a translator.
Cobblers punch. Treacle, vinegar, gin, and water.
Cock, or Chief cock of the walk. The leading man in any society or body; the best boxer in a village or district.
Cock ale. A provocative drink.
Cock alley or Cock lane. The private parts of a woman.
Cock and a bull story. A roundabout story, without head or tail, i.e. beginning or ending.
Cock of the company. A weak man, who from the desire of being the head of the company associates with low people, and pays all the reckoning.
Cock-a-whoop. Elevated, in high-spirits, transported with joy.
Cock bawd. A male keeper of a bawdy-house.
Cock hoist. A cross buttock.
Cockish. Wanton, forward. A cockish wench; a forward coming girl.
Cockles. To cry cockles; to be hanged: perhaps from the noise made whilst strangling. Cant. — This will rejoice the cockles of one’s heart; a saying in praise of wine, ale, or spirituous liquors.
Cock pimp. The supposed husband of a bawd.
Cock robin. A soft, easy fellow.
Cock-sure. Certain: a metaphor borrowed front the cock of a firelock, as being much more certain to fire than the match.
Cock your eye. Shut one eye: thus translated into apothecaries Latin. — Gallus tuus ego.
Cocker. One fond of the diversion of cock-fighting.
Cockney: A nick name given to the citizens of London, or persons born within the sound of Bow bell, derived from the following story: A citizen of London, being in the country, and hearing a horse neigh, exclaimed, Lord! how that horse laughs! A by-stander telling him that noise was called neighing, the next morning, when the cock crowed, the citizen to shew he had not forgot what was told him, cried out, Do you hear how the cock neighs? The king of the cockneys is mentioned among the regulations for the sports and shows formerly held in the Middle Temple on Childermas Day, where he had his officers, a marshal, constable, butler, &c. See Dugdale’s Origines juridiciales, p. 247. — Ray says, the interpretation of the word Cockney, is, a young person coaxed or conquered, made wanton; or a nestle cock, delicately bred and brought up, so as, when arrived a man’s estate, to be unable to bear the least hardship. Whatever may be the origin of this appellation, we learn from the following verses, attributed to Hugh Bigot, Earl of Norfolk, that it was in use, in the time of king Henry II.
Was I in my castle at Bungay,
Fast by the river Waveney,
I would not care for the king of Cockney;
i.e. the king of London.
Cockshut time. The evening, when fowls go to roost.
Cod. A cod of money: a good sum of money.
Codders. Persons employed by the gardeners to gather peas.
Codger. An old codger: an old fellow.
Cod piece. The fore flap of a man’s breeches. Do they bite, master? where, in the cod piece or collar? — a jocular attack on a patient angler by watermen, &c.
Cods. The scrotum. Also a nick name for a curate: a rude fellow meeting a curate, mistook him for the rector, and accosted him with the vulgar appellation of Bol — ks the rector, No, Sir, answered he; only Cods the curate, at your service.
Cod’s head. A stupid fellow.
Coffee house. A necessary house. To make a coffee-house of a woman’s ****; to go in and out and spend nothing.
Cog. The money, or whatsoever the sweeteners drop to draw in a bubble.
Cog. A tooth. A queer cog; a rotten tooth. How the cull flashes his queer cogs; how the fool shews his rotten teeth.
To cog. To cheat with dice; also to coax or wheedle, To cog a die; to conceal or secure a die. To cog a dinner; to wheedle one out of a dinner.
Cogue. A dram of any spirituous liquor.
Coker. A lie.
Cokes. The fool in the play of Bartholomew Fair: perhaps a contraction of the word Coxcomb.
Colcannon. Potatoes and cabbage pounded together in a mortar, and then stewed with butter: an Irish dish.
Cold. You will catch cold at that; a vulgar threat or advice to desist from an attempt. He caught cold by lying in bed barefoot; a saying of any one extremely tender or careful of himself.
Cold burning. A punishment inflicted by private soldiers on their comrades for trifling offences, or breach of their mess laws; it is administered in the following manner: The prisoner is set against the wall, with the arm which is to be burned tied as high above his head as possible. The executioner then ascends a stool, and having a bottle of cold water, pours it slowly down the sleeve of the delinquent, patting him, and leading the water gently down his body, till it runs out at his breeches knees: this is repeated to the other arm, if he is sentenced to be burned in both.
Cold cook. An undertaker of funerals, or carrion hunter. See Carrion hunter.
Cold iron. A sword, or any other weapon for cutting or stabbing. I gave him two inches of cold iron into his beef.
Cold meat. A dead wife is the beat cold meat in a man’s house.
Cold pig. To give cold pig is a punishment inflicted on sluggards who lie too long in bed: it consists in pulling off all the bed clothes from them, and throwing cold water upon them.
Cold pudding. This is said to settle one’s love.
Cole. Money. Post the cole: pay down the money.
Coliander, or Coriander seeds. Money.
Collar day. Execution day.
College. Newgate or any other prison. New College: the Royal Exchange. King’s College: the King’s Bench prison. He has been educated at the steel, and took his last degree at college; he has received his education at the house of correction, and was hanged at Newgate.
College cove. The College cove has numbered him, and if he is knocked down he’ll be twisted; the turnkey of Newgate has told the judge how many times the prisoner has been tried before and therefore if he is found guilty, he certainly will be hanged. It is said to be the custom of the Old Bailey for one of the turnkeys of Newgate to give information to the judge how many times an old offender has been tried, by holding up as many fingers as the number of times the prisoner has been before arraigned at that bar.
Collegiates. Prisoners of the one, and shopkeepers of the other of those places.
Collector. A highwayman.
To collogue. To wheedle or coax.
Cook ruffian, who roasted the devil in his feathers. A bad cook.
Cool crape. A shroud.
Cooler. A woman.
Cooler. The backside. Kiss my cooler. Kiss my a-se. It is principally used to signify a woman’s posteriors.
Cool lady. A female follower of the camp, who sells brandy.
Cool nants. Brandy.
Cool tankard. Wine and water, with lemon, sugar, and burrage.
Colquarron. A man’s neck. His colquarron is just about to be twisted; he is just going to be hanged. Cant.
Colt. One who lets horses to highwaymen; also a boy newly initiated into roguery; a grand or petty juryman on his first assize. Cant.
Coltage. A fine or beverage paid by colts on their first entering into their offices.
Colt bowl. Laid short of the jack by a colt bowler, i.e. a person raw or unexperienced in the art of bowling.
Colt’s tooth. An old fellow who marries or keeps a young girl, is said to have a colt’s tooth in his head.
Colt veal. Coarse red veal, more like the flesh of a colt than that of a calf.
Comb. To comb one’s head; to clapperclaw, or scold any one: a woman who lectures her husband, is said to comb his head. She combed his head with a joint stool; she threw a stool at him.
Come. To come; to lend. Has he come it; has he lent it? To come over any one; to cheat or over reach him. Coming wench; a forward wench, also a breeding woman.
Coming! So is christmas. Said of a person who has long been called, and at length answers, Coming!
Comfortable importance. A wife.
Commission. A shirt. Cant.
Commode. A woman’s head dress.
Commodity. A woman’s commodity; the private parts of a modest woman, and the public parts of a prostitute.
Commons. The house of commons; the necessary house.
Company. To see company; to enter into a course of prostitution.
Compliment. See Christmas.
Comus’s court. A social meeting formerly held at the Half Moon tavern Cheapside.
Confect. Counterfeited.
Conger. To conger; the agreement of a set or knot of booksellers of London, that whosoever of them shall buy a good copy, the rest shall take off such a particular number, in quires, at a stated price; also booksellers joining to buy either a considerable or dangerous copy.
Congo. Will you lap your congo with me? will you drink tea with me?
Conny wabble. Eggs and brandy beat up together. Irish.
Conscience keeper. A superior, who by his influence makes his dependants act as he pleases.
Content. The cull’s content; the man is past complaining: a saying of a person murdered for resisting the robbers. Cant.
Content. A thick liquor, in imitation of chocolate, made of milk and gingerbread.
Contra dance. A dance where the dancers of the different sexes stand opposite each other, instead of side by side, as in the minuet, rigadoon, louvre, &c. and now corruptly called a country dance.
Conundrums. Enigmatical conceits.
Conveniency. A necessary. A leathern conveniency, a coach.
Cooped up. Imprisoned, confined like a fowl in a coop.
Coquet. A jilt.
Corinthians: Frequenters of brothels. Also an impudent, brazen-faced fellow, perhaps from the Corinthian brass.
Cork-brained. Light-headed, foolish.
Cornish hug. A particular lock in wrestling, peculiar to the people of that county.
Corny-faced. A very red pimpled face.
Corporal. To mount a corporal and four; to be guilty of onanism: the thumb is the corporal, the four fingers the privates.
Corporation. A large belly. He has a glorious corporation; he has a very prominent belly.
Corporation. The magistrates, &c. of a corporate town. Corpus sine ratione. Freemen of a corporation’s work; neither strong nor handsome.
Cosset. A foundling. Cosset colt or lamb; a colt or lamb brought up by hand.
Costard. The head. I’ll smite your costard; I’ll give you a knock on the head.
Costard monger. A dealer in fruit, particularly apples.
Cot, or Quot. A man who meddles with women’s household business, particularly in the kitchen. The punishment commonly inflicted on a quot, is pinning a greasy dishclout to the skirts of his coat.
Cove. A man, a fellow, a rogue. The cove was bit; the rogue was outwitted. The cove has bit the cole; the rogue has got the money. Cant.
Covent, or Convent garden, vulgarly called Common garden. Anciently, the garden belonging to a dissolved monastery; now famous for being the chief market in London for fruit, flowers, and herbs. The theatres are situated near it. In its environs are many brothels, and not long ago, the lodgings of the second order of ladies of easy virtue were either there, or in the purlieus of Drury Lane.
Covent garden abbess. A bawd.
Covent garden ague. The venereal disease. He broke his shins against Covent Garden rails; he caught the venereal disorder.
Covent garden nun. A prostitute.
Coventry. To send one to Coventry; a punishment inflicted by officers of the army on such of their brethren as are testy, or have been guilty of improper behaviour, not worthy the cognizance of a court martial. The person sent to Coventry is considered as absent; no one must speak to or answer any question he asks, except relative to duty, under penalty of being also sent to the same place. On a proper submission, the penitent is recalled, and welcomed by the mess, as just returned from a journey to Coventry.
Covey. A collection of whores. What a fine covey here is, if the Devil would but throw his net!
To couch a hogshead. To lie down to sleep. Cant.
Counterfeit crank. A general cheat, assuming all sorts of characters; one conterfeiting the falling sickness.
Country harry. A waggoner. Cant.
Country put. An ignorant country fellow.
County work. Said of any work that advances slowly.
Court card. A gay fluttering coxcomb.
Court holy water, court promises. Fair speeches and promises, without performance.
Court of assistants. A court often applied to by young women who marry old men.
Cow. To sleep like a cow, with a **** at one’s a-se; said of a married man; married men being supposed to sleep with their backs towards their wives, according to the following proclamation:
All you that in your beds do lie,
Turn to your wives, and occupy:
And when that you have done your best,
Turn a-se to a-se, and take your rest.
Cow juice. Milk.
Cow’s baby. A calf.
Cow’s courant. Gallop and sh —— e.
Cow-handed. Awkward.
Cow-hearted. Fearful.
Cow itch. The product of a sort of bean, which excites an insufferable itching, used chiefly for playing tricks.
Cow’s spouse. A bull.
Cow’s thumb. Done to a cow’s thumb; done exactly.
Coxcomb. Anciently, a fool. Fools, in great families, wore a cap with bells, on the top of which was a piece of red cloth, in the shape of a cock’s comb. At present, coxcomb signifies a fop, or vain self-conceited fellow.
Crab. To catch a crab; to fall backwards by missing one’s stroke in rowing.
Crab lanthorn. A peevish fellow.
Crab louse. A species of louse peculiar to the human body; the male is denominated a cock, the female a hen.
Crab shells. Shoes. Irish.
Crabs. A losing throw to the main at hazard.
Crabbed. Sour, ill-tempered, difficult.
Crack. A whore.
To crack. To boast or brag; also to break. I cracked his napper; I broke his head.
The crack, or All the crack. The fashionable theme, the go. The Crack Lay, of late is used, in the cant language, to signify the art and mystery of house-breaking.
Cracker. Crust, sea biscuit, or ammunition loaf; also the backside. Farting crackers; breeches.
Crackish. Whorish.
Cracking tools. Implements of house-breaking, such as a crow, a center bit, false keys, &c.
Crackmans. Hedges. The cull thought to have loped by breaking through the crackmans, but we fetched him back by a nope on the costard, which stopped his jaw; the man thought to have escaped by breaking through the hedge, but we brought him back by a great blow on the head, which laid him speechless.
Cracksman. A house-breaker. The kiddy is a clever cracksman; the young fellow is a very expert house-breaker.
Crag. The neck.
Cramp rings. Bolts, shackles, or fetters. Cant.
Cramp words. Sentence of death passed on a criminal by a judge. He has just undergone the cramp word; sentence has just been passed on him. Cant.
Crank. Gin and water; also, brisk, pert.
Crank. The falling sickness. Cant.
To crash. To kill. Crash that cull; kill that fellow. Cant.
Crashing cheats. Teeth.
Craw thumpers. Roman catholics, so called from their beating their breasts in the confession of their sins. See Brisket beater, and Breast fleet.
Cream-pot love. Such as young fellows pretend to dairymaids, to get cream and other good things from them.
To creeme. To slip or slide any thing into the hands of another. Cant.
Creepers. Gentlemen’s companions, lice.
Crew. A knot or gang; also a boat or ship’s company. The canting crew are thus divided into twenty-three orders, which see under the different words:
Men.
1 Rufflers 2 Upright Men 3 Hookers or Anglers 4 Rogues 5 Wild Rogues 6 Priggers of Prancers 7 Palliardes 8 Fraters 9 Jarkmen, or Patricoes 10 Fresh Water Mariners, or Whip Jackets 11 Drummerers 12 Drunken Tinkers 13 Swadders, or Pedlars 14 Abrams.
Women.
1 Demanders for Glimmer or Fire 2 Bawdy Baskets 3 Morts 4 Autem Morts 5 Walking Morts 6 Doxies 7 Delles 8 Kinching Morts 9 Kinching Coes
Crib. A house. To crack a crib: to break open a house.
To crib. To purloin, or appropriate to one’s own use, part of any thing intrusted to one’s care.
To fight a crib. To make a sham fight. Bear garden term.
Cribbage-faced. Marked with the small pox, the pits bearing a kind of resemblance to the holes in a cribbage-board.
Cribbeys, or Cribby islands. Blind alleys, courts, or bye-ways; perhaps from the houses built there being cribbed out of the common way or passage; and islands, from the similarity of sound to the Caribbee Islands.
Crim. con. money. Damages directed by a jury to be paid by a convicted adulterer to the injured husband, for criminal conversation with his wife.
Crimp. A broker or factor, as a coal crimp, who disposes of the cargoes of the Newcastle coal ships; also persons employed to trapan or kidnap recruits for the East Indian and African companies. To crimp, or play crimp; to play foul or booty: also a cruel manner of cutting up fish alive, practised by the London fishmongers, in order to make it eat firm; cod, and other crimped fish, being a favourite dish among voluptuaries and epicures.
Crinkum crankum. A woman’s commodity. See Spectator.
Crinkums. The foul or venereal disease.
Cripple. Sixpence; that piece being commonly much bent and distorted.
Crispin. A shoemaker: from a romance, wherein a prince of that name is said to have exercised the art and mystery of a shoemaker, thence called the gentle craft: or rather from the saints Crispinus and Crispianus, who according to the legend, were brethren born at Rome, from whence they travelled to Soissons in France, about the year 303, to propagate the Christian religion; but, because they would not be chargeable to others for their maintenance, they exercised the trade of shoemakers: the governor of the town discovering them to be Christians, ordered them to be beheaded, about the year 303; from which time they have been the tutelar saints of the shoemakers.
Crispin’s holiday. Every Monday throughout the year, but most particularly the 25th of October, being the anniversary of Crispinus and Crispianus.
Crispin’s lance. An awl.
Croaker. One who is always foretelling some accident or misfortune: an allusion to the croaking of a raven, supposed ominous.
Croakumshire. Northumberland, from the particular croaking the pronunciation of the people of that county, especially about Newcastle and Morpeth, where they are said to be born with a burr in their throats, which prevents their pronouncing the letter r.
Croakers. Forestallers, called also Kidders and Tranters.
Crocodile’s tears. The tears of a hypocrite. Crocodiles are fabulously reported to shed tears over their prey before they devour it.
Crocus, or Crocus metallorum. A nick name for a surgeon of the army and navy.
Croker. A groat, or four pence.
Crone. An old ewe whose teeth are worn out; figuratively, a toothless old beldam.
Crony. An intimate companion, a comrade; also a confederate in a robbery.
Crook. Sixpence.
Crook back. Sixpence; for the reason of this name, see Cripple.
Crook your elbow. To crook one’s elbow, and wish it may never come straight, if the fact then affirmed is not true — according to the casuists of Bow-street and St. Giles’s, adds great weight and efficacy to an oath.
Crook shanks. A nickname for a man with bandy legs. He buys his boots in Crooked Lane, and his stockings in Bandy-legged Walk; his legs grew in the night, therefore could not see to grow straight; jeering sayings of men with crooked legs.
Crop. A nick name for a presbyterian: from their cropping their hair, which they trimmed close to a bowl-dish, placed as a guide on their heads; whence they were likewise called roundheads. See Roundheads.
Crop. To be knocked down for a crop; to be condemned to be hanged. Cropped, hanged.
Cropping drums. Drummers of the foot guards, or Chelsea hospital, who find out weddings, and beat a point of war to serenade the new married couple, and thereby obtain money.
Croppen. The tail. The croppen of the rotan; the tail of the cart. Croppen ken: the necessary-house. Cant.
Cropsick. Sickness in the stomach, arising from drunkenness.
Cross. To come home by weeping cross; to repent at the conclusion.
Cross dishonest. A cross cove; any person who lives by stealing or in a dishonest manner.
Cross bite. One who combines with a sharper to draw in a friend; also, to counteract or disappoint. Cant. — This is peculiarly used to signify entrapping a man so as to obtain Crim. com. money, in which the wife, real or supposed, conspires with the husband.
Cross buttock. A particular lock or fall in the Broughtonian art, which, as Mr. Fielding observes, conveyed more pleasant sensations to the spectators than the patient.
Cross patch. A peevish boy or girl, or rather an unsocial ill-tempered man or woman.
To crow. To brag, boast, or triumph. To crow over any one; to keep him in subjection: an image drawn from a cock, who crows over a vanquished enemy. To pluck a crow; to reprove any one for a fault committed, to settle a dispute. To strut like a crow in a gutter; to walk proudly, or with an air of consequence.
Crowd. A fiddle: probably from Crooth, the Welch name for that instrument.
Crowdero. A fiddler.
Crowdy. Oatmeal and water, or milk; a mess much eaten in the north.
Crow fair. A visitation of the clergy. See Review of the black cuirassiers.
Crown office. The head. I fired into her keel upwards; my eyes and limbs Jack, the crown office was full; I s — k-d a woman with her a-e upwards, she was so drunk, that her head lay on the ground.
Cruisers. Beggars, or highway spies, who traverse the road, to give intelligence of a booty; also rogues ready to snap up any booty that may offer, like privateers or pirates on a cruise.
Crummy. Fat, fleshy. A fine crummy dame; a fat woman. He has picked up his crumbs finely of late; he has grown very fat, or rich, of late.
Crump. One who helps solicitors to affidavit men, or false witnesses. —‘I wish you had, Mrs. Crump;’ a Gloucestershire saying, in answer to a wish for any thing; implying, you must not expect any assistance from the speaker. It is said to have originated from the following incident: One Mrs. Crump, the wife of a substantial farmer, dining with the old Lady Coventry, who was extremely deaf, said to one of the footmen, waiting at table, ‘I wish I had a draught of small beer,’ her modesty not permitting her to desire so fine a gentleman to bring it: the fellow, conscious that his mistress could not hear either the request or answer, replied, without moving, ‘I wish you had, Mrs. Crump.’ These wishes being again repeated by both parties, Mrs. Crump got up from the table to fetch it herself; and being asked by my lady where she was going, related what had passed. The story being told abroad, the expression became proverbial.
Crump-backed. Hump-backed.
Crusty beau. One that uses paint and cosmetics, to obtain a fine complexion.
Crusty fellow. A surly fellow.
Cub. An unlicked cub; an unformed, ill-educated young man, a young nobleman or gentleman on his travels: an allusion to the story of the bear, said to bring its cub into form by licking. Also, a new gamester.
Cuckold. The husband of an incontinent wife: cuckolds, however, are Christians, as we learn by the following story: An old woman hearing a man call his dog Cuckold, reproved him sharply, saying, ‘Sirrah, are not you ashamed to call a dog by a Christian’s name?’ To cuckold the parson; to bed with one’s wife before she has been churched.
Cucumbers. Taylors, who are jocularly said to subsist, during the summer, chiefly on cucumbers.
Cuff. An old cuff; an old man. To cuff Jonas; said of one who is knock-kneed, or who beats his sides to keep himself warm in frosty weather; called also Beating the booby.
Cuffin. A man.
Cull. A man, honest or otherwise. A bob cull; a good-natured, quiet fellow. Cant.
Cullability. A disposition liable to be cheated, an unsuspecting nature, open to imposition.
Cully. A fog or fool: also, a dupe to women: from the Italian word coglione, a blockhead.
Culp. A kick or blow: from the words mea culpa, being that part of the popish liturgy at which the people beat their breasts; or, as the vulgar term is, thump their craws.
Cundum. The dried gut of a sheep, worn by men in the act of coition, to prevent venereal infection; said to have been invented by one colonel Cundum. These machines were long prepared and sold by a matron of the name of Philips, at the Green Canister, in Half-moon-street, in the Strand. That good lady having acquired a fortune, retired from business; but learning that the town was not well served by her successors, she, out of a patriotic zeal for the public welfare, returned to her occupation; of which she gave notice by divers hand-bills, in circulation in the year 1776. Also a false scabbard over a sword, and the oil-skin case for holding the colours of a regiment.
Cunningham. A punning appellation for a simple fellow.
Cunning man. A cheat, who pretends by his skill in astrology to assist persons in recovering stolen goods: and also to tell them their fortunes, and when, how often, and to whom they shall be married; likewise answers all lawful questions, both by sea and land. This profession is frequently occupied by ladies.
Cunning shaver. A sharp fellow, one that trims close, i.e. cheats ingeniously.
Cunny-thumbed. To double one’s fist with the thumb inwards, like a woman.
C**T. The chonnos of the Greek, and the cunnus of the Latin dictionaries; a nasty name for a nasty thing: un con Miege.
Cup of the creature. A cup of good liquor.
Cup-shot. Drunk.
Cupboard love. Pretended love to the cook, or any other person, for the sake of a meal. My guts cry cupboard; i.e. I am hungry
Cupid, blind cupid. A jeering name for an ugly blind man: Cupid, the god of love, being frequently painted blind. See Blind cupid.
Cur. A cut or curtailed dog. According to the forest laws, a man who had no right to the privilege of the chase, was obliged to cut or law his dog: among other modes of disabling him from disturbing the game, one was by depriving him of his tail: a dog so cut was called a cut or curtailed dog, and by contraction a cur. A cur is figuratively used to signify a surly fellow.
Curbing law. The act of hooking goods out of windows: the curber is the thief, the curb the hook. Cant.
Cure a-se. A dyachilon plaister, applied to the parts galled by riding.
Curle. Clippings of money, which curls up in the operation. Cant.
Curmudgeon. A covetous old fellow, derived, according to some, from the French term coeur mechant.
Curry. To curry favour; to obtain the favour of a person be coaxing or servility. To curry any one’s hide; to beat him.
Curse of scotland. The nine of diamonds; diamonds, it is said, imply royalty, being ornaments to the imperial crown; and every ninth king of Scotland has been observed for many ages, to be a tyrant and a curse to that country. Others say it is from its similarity to the arms of Argyle; the Duke of Argyle having been very instrumental in bringing about the union, which, by some Scotch patriots, has been considered as detrimental to their country.
Curse of god. A cockade.
Cursitors. Broken petty-fogging attornies, or Newgate solicitors. Cant.
Curtails. Thieves who cut off pieces of stuff hanging out of shop windows, the tails of women’s gowns, &c.; also, thieves wearing short jackets.
Curtain lecture. A woman who scolds her husband when in bed, is said to read him a curtain lecture.
Curtezan. A prostitute.
Cushion. He has deserved the cushion; a saying of one whose wife is brought to bed of a boy: implying, that having done his business effectually, he may now indulge or repose himself.
Cushion thumper, or Duster. A parson; many of whom in the fury of their eloquence, heartily belabour their cushions.
Custard cap. The cap worn by the sword-bearer of the city of London, made hollow at the top like a custard.
Custom-house goods. The stock in trade of a prostitute, because fairly entered.
Cut. Drunk. A little cut over the head; slightly intoxicated. To cut; to leave a person or company. To cut up well; to die rich.
To cut. (Cambridge.) To renounce acquaintance with any one is to Cut him. There are several species of the Cut. Such as the cut direct, the cut indirect, the cut sublime, the cut infernal, &c. The cut direct, is to start across the street, at the approach of the obnoxious person in order to avoid him. The cut indirect, is to look another way, and pass without appearing to observe him. The cut sublime, is to admire the top of King’s College Chapel, or the beauty of the passing clouds, till he is out of sight. The cut infernal, is to analyze the arrangement of your shoe-strings, for the same purpose.
To cut bene. To speak gently. To cut bene whiddes; to give good words. To cut queer whiddes; to give foul language. To cut a bosh, or a flash; to make a figure. Cant.
To cutty-eye. To look out of the corners of one’s eyes, to leer, to look askance. The cull cutty-eyed at us; the fellow looked suspicious at us.
Dab. An adept; a dab at any feat or exercise. Dab, quoth Dawkins, when he hit his wife on the a-se with a pound of butter.
Dace. Two pence. Tip me a dace; lend me two pence. Cant.
Daddles. Hands. Tip us your daddle; give me your hand. Cant.
Daddy. Father. Old daddy; a familiar address to an old man. To beat daddy mammy; the first rudiments of drum beating, being the elements of the roll.
Daggers. They are at daggers drawing; i.e. at enmity, ready to fight.
Dairy. A woman’s breasts, particularly one that gives suck. She sported her dairy; she pulled out her breast.
Daisy cutter. A jockey term for a horse that does not lift up his legs sufficiently, or goes too near the ground, and is therefore apt to stumble.
Daisy kickers. Ostlers at great inns.
Dam. A small Indian coin, mentioned in the Gentoo code of laws: hence etymologists may, if they please, derive the common expression, I do not care a dam, i.e. I do not care half a farthing for it.
Damber. A rascal. See Dimber.
Damme boy. A roaring, mad, blustering fellow, a scourer of the streets, or kicker up of a breeze.
Damned soul. A clerk in a counting house, whose sole business it is to clear or swear off merchandise at the custom-house; and who, it is said, guards against the crime of perjury, by taking a previous oath, never to swear truly on those occasions.
Damper. A luncheon, or snap before dinner: so called from its damping, or allaying, the appetite; eating and drinking, being, as the proverb wisely observes, apt to take away the appetite.
Dance upon nothing. To be hanged.
Dancers. Stairs.
Dandy. That’s the dandy; i.e. the ton, the clever thing; an expression of similar import to “That’s the barber.” See Barber.
Dandy grey russet. A dirty brown. His coat’s dandy grey russet, the colour of the Devil’s nutting bag.
Dandy prat. An insignificant or trifling fellow.
To Dangle. To follow a woman without asking the question. Also, to be hanged: I shall see you dangle in the sheriff’s picture frame; I shall see you hanging on the gallows.
Dangler. One who follows women in general, without any particular attachment
Dapper fellow. A smart, well-made, little man.
Darbies. Fetters. Cant.
Darby. Ready money. Cant.
Dark cully. A married man that keeps a mistress, whom he visits only at night, for fear of discovery.
Darkee. A dark lanthorn used by housebreakers. Stow the darkee, and bolt, the cove of the crib is fly; hide the dark lanthorn, and run away, the master of the house knows that we are here.
Darkmans. The night. Cant.
Darkman’s budge. One that slides into a house in the dark of the evening, and hides himself, in order to let some of the gang in at night to rob it.
Dart. A straight-armed blow in boxing.
Dash. A tavern drawer. To cut a dash: to make a figure.
David jones. The devil, the spirit of the sea: called Necken in the north countries, such as Norway, Denmark, and Sweden.
David jones’s locker. The sea.
David’s sow. As drunk as David’s sow; a common saying, which took its rise from the following circumstance: One David Lloyd, a Welchman, who kept an alehouse at Hereford, had a living sow with six legs, which was greatly resorted to by the curious; he had also a wife much addicted to drunkenness, for which he used sometimes to give her due correction. One day David’s wife having taken a cup too much, and being fearful of the consequences, turned out the sow, and lay down to sleep herself sober in the stye. A company coming in to see the sow, David ushered them into the stye, exclaiming, there is a sow for you! did any of you ever see such another? all the while supposing the sow had really been there; to which some of the company, seeing the state the woman was in, replied, it was the drunkenest sow they had ever beheld; whence the woman was ever after called David’s sow.
Davy. I’ll take my davy of it; vulgar abbreviation of affidavit.
To dawb. To bribe. The cull was scragged because he could not dawb; the rogue was hanged because he could not bribe. All bedawbed with lace; all over lace.
Day lights. Eyes. To darken his day lights, or sow up his sees; to close up a man’s eyes in boxing.
Dead cargo. A term used by thieves, when they are disappointed in the value of their booty.
Dead horse. To work for the dead horse; to work for wages already paid.
Dead-louse. Vulgar pronunciation of the Dedalus ship of war.
Dead men. A cant word among journeymen bakers, for loaves falsely charged to their masters’ customers; also empty bottles.
Deadly nevergreen, that bears fruit all the year round. The gallows, or three-legged mare. See Three-legged Mare.
Dear joys. Irishmen: from their frequently making use of that expression.
Death hunter. An undertaker, one who furnishes the necessary articles for funerals. See Carrion hunter.
Death’s head upon a mop-stick. A poor miserable, emaciated fellow; one quite an otomy. See Otomy. — He looked as pleasant as the pains of death.
Deep-one. A thorough-paced rogue, a sly designing fellow: in opposition to a shallow or foolish one.
Deft fellow. A neat little man.
Degen, or Dagen. A sword. Nim the degen; steal the sword. Dagen is Dutch for a sword. Cant.
Dells. Young buxom wenches, ripe and prone to venery, but who have not lost their virginity, which the Upright man claims by virtue of his prerogative; after which they become free for any of the fraternity. Also a common strumpet. Cant.
Demure. As demure as an old whore at a christening.
Demy-rep. An abbreviation of demy-reputation; a woman of doubtful character.
Derby. To come down with the derbies; to pay the money.
Derrick. The name of the finisher of the law, or hangman about the year 1608. —‘For he rides his circuit with the Devil, and Derrick must be his host, and Tiburne the inne at which he will lighte.’ Vide Bellman of London, in art. Priggin law. —‘At the gallows, where I leave them, as to the haven at which they must all cast anchor, if Derrick’s cables do but hold.’ Ibid.
Devil. A printer’s errand-boy. Also a small thread in the king’s ropes and cables, whereby they may be distinguished from all others. The Devil himself; a small streak of blue thread in the king’s sails. The Devil may dance in his pocket; i.e. he has no money: the cross on our ancient coins being jocularly supposed to prevent him from visiting that place, for fear, as it is said, of breaking his shins against it. To hold a candle to the Devil; to be civil to any one out of fear: in allusion to the story of the old woman, who set a wax taper before the image of St. Michael, and another before the Devil, whom that saint is commonly represented as trampling under his feet: being reproved for paying such honour to Satan, she answered, as it was uncertain which place she should go to, heaven or hell, she chose to secure a friend in both places. That will be when the Devil is blind, and he has not got sore eyes yet; said of any thing unlikely to happen. It rains whilst the sun shines, the Devil is beating his wife with a shoulder of mutton: this phenomenon is also said to denote that cuckolds are going to heaven; on being informed of this, a loving wife cried out with great vehemence, ‘Run, husband, run!’
The Devil was sick, the Devil a monk would be; The Devil was well, the Devil a monk was he.
a proverb signifying that we are apt to forget promises made in time of distress. To pull the Devil by the tail, to be reduced to one’s shifts. The Devil go with you and sixpence, and then you will have both money and company.
Devil. The gizzard of a turkey or fowl, scored, peppered, salted and broiled: it derives its appellation from being hot in the mouth.
Devil’s books. Cards.
Devil catcher, or Devil driver. A parson. See Snub devil.
Devil’s daughter. It is said of one who has a termagant for his wife, that he has married the Devil’s daughter, and lives with the old folks.
Devil’s daughter’s portion:
Deal, Dover, and Harwich, The Devil gave with his daughter in marriage; And, by a codicil to his will, He added Helvoet and the Brill;
a saying occasioned by the shameful impositions practised by the inhabitants of those places, on sailors and travellers.
Devil drawer. A miserable painter.
Devil’s dung. Assafoetida.
Devil’s guts. A surveyor’s chain: so called by farmers, who do not like their land should be measured by their landlords.
Devilish. Very: an epithet which in the English vulgar language is made to agree with every quality or thing; as, devilish bad, devilish good; devilish sick, devilish well; devilish sweet, devilish sour; devilish hot, devilish cold, &c. &c.
Deusea ville. The country. Cant.
Deusea ville stampers. Country carriers. Cant.
Dew beaters. Feet. Cant.
Dews wins, or Deux wins. Two-pence. Cant.
Dewitted. Torn to pieces by a mob, as that great statesman John de Wit was in Holland, anno 1672.
Dial plate. The face. To alter his dial plate; to disfigure his face.
Dice. The names of false dice: A bale of bard cinque deuces A bale of flat cinque deuces A bale of flat sice aces A bale of bard cater traes A bale of flat cater traes A bale of fulhams A bale of light graniers A bale of langrets contrary to the ventage A bale of gordes, with as many highmen as lowmen, for passage A bale of demies A bale of long dice for even and odd A bale of bristles A bale of direct contraries.
Dick. That happened in the reign of queen Dick, i. e. never: said of any absurd old story. I am as queer as Dick’s hatband; that is, out of spirits, or don’t know what ails me.
Dicky. A woman’s under-petticoat. It’s all Dicky with him; i.e. it’s all over with him.
Dicked in the nob. Silly. Crazed.
Dickey. A sham shirt.
Dickey. An ass. Roll your dickey; drive your ass. Also a seat for servants to sit behind a carriage, when their master drives.
To diddle. To cheat. To defraud. The cull diddled me out of my dearee; the fellow robbed me of my sweetheart. See Jeremy Diddler In Raising The Wind.
Diddeys. A woman’s breasts or bubbies.
Diddle. Gin.
Dilberries. Small pieces of excrement adhering to the hairs near the fundament.
Dilberry maker. The fundament.
Dildo. [From the Italian Diletto, q. d. a woman’s delight; or from our word Dally, q. d. a thing to play withal.] Penis-succedaneus, called in Lombardy Passo Tempo. Bailey.
Diligent. Double diligent, like the Devil’s apothecary; said of one affectedly diligent.
Dilly. (An abbreviation of the word Diligence.) A public voiture or stage, commonly a post chaise, carrying three persons; the name is taken from the public stage vehicles in France and Flanders. The dillies first began to run in England about the year 1779.
Dimber. Pretty. A dimber cove; a pretty fellow. Dimber mort; a pretty wench. Cant.
Dimber damber. A top man, or prince, among the canting crew: also the chief rogue of the gang, or the completest cheat. Cant.
Ding. To knock down. To ding it in one’s ears; to reproach or tell one something one is not desirous of hearing. Also to throw away or hide: thus a highwayman who throws away or hides any thing with which he robbed, to prevent being known or detected, is, in the canting lingo, styled a Dinger.
Ding boy. A rogue, a hector, a bully, or sharper. Cant.
Ding dong. Helter skelter, in a hasty disorderly manner.
Dingey christian. A mulatto; or any one who has, as the West–Indian term is, a lick of the tar-brush, that is, some negro blood in him.
Dining room post. A mode of stealing in houses that let lodgings, by rogues pretending to be postmen, who send up sham letters to the lodgers, and, whilst waiting in the entry for the postage, go into the first room they see open, and rob it.
Dip. To dip for a wig. Formerly, in Middle Row, Holborn, wigs of different sorts were, it is said, put into a close-stool box, into which, for three-pence, any one might dip, or thrust in his hand, and take out the first wig he laid hold of; if he was dissatisfied with his prize, he might, on paying three halfpence, return it and dip again.
The dip. A cook’s shop, under Furnival’s Inn, where many attornies clerks, and other inferior limbs of the law, take out the wrinkles from their bellies. Dip is also a punning name for a tallow-chandler.
Dippers. Anabaptists.
Dirty puzzle. A nasty slut.
Disguised. Drunk.
Disgruntled. Offended, disobliged.
Dished up. He is completely dished up; he is totally ruined. To throw a thing in one’s dish; to reproach or twit one with any particular matter.
Dishclout. A dirty, greasy woman. He has made a napkin of his dishclout; a saying of one who has married his cook maid. To pin a dishclout to a man’s tail; a punishment often threatened by the female servants in a kitchen, to a man who pries too minutely into the secrets of that place.
Dismal ditty. The psalm sung by the felons at the gallows, just before they are turned off.
Dispatches. A mittimus, or justice of the peace’s warrant, for the commitment of a rogue.
Ditto. A suit of ditto; coat, waistcoat, and breeches, all of one colour.
Dispatchers. Loaded or false dice.
Distracted division. Husband and wife fighting.
Dive. To dive; to pick a pocket. To dive for a dinner; to go down into a cellar to dinner. A dive, is a thief who stands ready to receive goods thrown out to him by a little boy put in at a window. Cant.
Diver. A pickpocket; also one who lives in a cellar.
Divide. To divide the house with one’s wife; to give her the outside, and to keep all the inside to one’s self, i.e. to turn her into the street.
DO. To do any one; to rob and cheat him. I have done him; I have robbed him. Also to overcome in a boxing match: witness those laconic lines written on the field of battle, by Humphreys to his patron. —‘Sir, I have done the Jew.’
To do over. Carries the same meaning, but is not so briefly expressed: the former having received the polish of the present times.
Doash. A cloak. Cant.
Dobin rig. Stealing ribbands from haberdashers early in the morning or late at night; generally practised by women in the disguise of maid servants.
To dock. To lie with a woman. The cull docked the dell all the darkmans; the fellow laid with the wench all night. Docked smack smooth; one who has suffered an amputation of his penis from a venereal complaint. He must go into dock; a sea phrase, signifying that the person spoken of must undergo a salivation. Docking is also a punishment inflicted by sailors on the prostitutes who have infected them with the venereal disease; it consists in cutting off all their clothes, petticoats, shift and all, close to their stays, and then turning them into the street.
Doctor. Milk and water, with a little rum, and some nutmeg; also the name of a composition used by distillers, to make spirits appear stronger than they really are, or, in their phrase, better proof.
Doctors. Loaded dice, that will run but two or three chances. They put the doctors upon him; they cheated him with loaded dice.
Dodsey. A woman: perhaps a corruption of Doxey. Cant.
Dog buffers. Dog stealers, who kill those dogs not advertised for, sell their skins, and feed the remaining dogs with their flesh.
Dog in a doublet. A daring, resolute fellow. In Germany and Flanders the boldest dogs used to hunt the boar, having a kind of buff doublet buttoned on their bodies, Rubens has represented several so equipped, so has Sneyders.
Dog. An old dog at it; expert or accustomed to any thing. Dog in a manger; one who would prevent another from enjoying what he himself does not want: an allusion to the well-known fable. The dogs have not dined; a common saying to any one whose shirt hangs out behind. To dog, or dodge; to follow at a distance. To blush like a blue dog, i.e. not at all. To walk the black dog on any one; a punishment inflicted in the night on a fresh prisoner, by his comrades, in case of his refusal to pay the usual footing or garnish.
Dog latin. Barbarous Latin, such as was formerly used by the lawyers in their pleadings.
Dog’s portion. A lick and a smell. He comes in for only a dog’s portion; a saying of one who is a distant admirer or dangler after women. See Dangler.
Dog’s rig. To copulate till you are tired, and then turn tail to it.
Dog’s soup. Rain water.
Dog vane. A cockade. Sea term.
Dogged. Surly.
Doggess, dog’s wife or Lady, puppy’s mamma. Jocular ways of calling a woman a bitch.
Doll. Bartholomew doll; a tawdry, over-drest woman, like one of the children’s dolls at Bartholomew fair. To mill doll; to beat hemp at Bridewell, or any other house of correction.
Dolly. A Yorkshire dolly; a contrivance for washing, by means of a kind of wheel fixed in a tub, which being turned about, agitates and cleanses the linen put into it, with soap and water.
Domine do little. An impotent old fellow.
Domineer. To reprove or command in an insolent or haughty manner. Don’t think as how you shall domineer here.
Dommerer. A beggar pretending that his tongue has been cutout by the Algerines, or cruel and blood-thirsty Turks, or else that he yas born deaf and dumb. Cant.
Done, or Done over. Robbed: also, convicted or hanged. Cant. — See DO.
Done up. Ruined by gaming and extravagances. Modern Term.
Donkey, donkey dick. A he, or jack ass: called donkey, perhaps, from the Spanish or don-like gravity of that animal, intitled also the king of Spain’s trumpeter.
Doodle. A silly fellow, or noodle: see Noodle. Also a child’s penis. Doodle doo, or Cock a doodle doo; a childish appellation for a cock, in imitation of its note when crowing.
Doodle sack. A bagpipe. Dutch. — Also the private parts of a woman.
Dopey. A beggar’s trull.
Dot and go one. To waddle: generally applied to persons who have one leg shorter than the other, and who, as the sea phrase is, go upon an uneven keel. Also a jeering appellation for an inferior writing-master, or teacher of arithmetic.
Double. To tip any one the double; to run away in his or her debt.
Double jugg. A man’s backside. Cotton’s Virgil.
Dove-tail. A species of regular answer, which fits into the subject, like the contrivance whence it takes its name: Ex. Who owns this? The dovetail is, Not you by your asking.
Douglas. Roby Douglas, with one eye and a stinking breath; the breech. Sea wit.
Dowdy. A coarse, vulgar-looking woman.
Down hills. Dice that run low.
Down. Aware of a thing. Knowing it. There is No down. A cant phrase used by house-breakers to signify that the persons belonging to any house are not on their guard, or that they are fast asleep, and have not heard any noise to alarm them.
To dowse. To take down: as, Dowse the pendant. Dowse your dog vane; take the cockade out of your hat. Dowse the glim; put out the candle.
Dowse on the chops. A blow in the face.
Dowser. Vulgar pronunciation of Douceur.
Doxies. She beggars, wenches, whores.
Drab. A nasty, sluttish whore.
Drag. To go on the drag; to follow a cart or waggon, in order to rob it. Cant.
Drag lay. Waiting in the streets to rob carts or waggons.
Draggletail or Daggletail. One whose garments are bespattered with dag or dew: generally applied to the female sex, to signify a slattern.
Dragooning it. A man who occupies two branches of one profession, is said to dragoon it; because, like the soldier of that denomination, he serves in a double capacity. Such is a physician who furnishes the medicines, and compounds his own prescriptions.
Drain. Gin: so called from the diuretic qualities imputed to that liquor.
Dram. A glass or small measure of any spirituous liquors, which, being originally sold by apothecaries, were estimated by drams, ounces, &c. Dog’s dram; to spit in his mouth, and clap his back.
Dram-a-tick. A dram served upon credit.
Draper. An ale draper; an alehouse keeper.
Draught, or Bill, on the pump at aldgate. A bad or false bill of exchange. See Aldgate.
Draw latches. Robbers of houses whose doors are only fastened with latches. Cant.
To draw. To take any thing from a pocket. To draw a swell of a clout. To pick a gentleman’s pocket of a handkerchief. To draw the long bow; to tell lies.
Drawers. Stockings. Cant.
Drawing the king’s picture. Coining. Cant.
To dress. To beat. I’ll dress his hide neatly; I’ll beat him soundly.
Dribble. A method of pouring out, as it were, the dice from the box, gently, by which an old practitioner is enabled to cog one of them with his fore-finger.
Dripper. A gleet.
Dromedary. A heavy, bungling thief or rogue. A purple dromedary; a bungler in the art and mystery of thieving. Cant.
Drommerars. See Dommerer.
Drop. The new drop; a contrivance for executing felons at Newgate, by means of a platform, which drops from under them: this is also called the last drop. See Leaf. See Morning drop.
Drop a cog. To let fall, with design, a piece of gold or silver, in order to draw in and cheat the person who sees it picked up; the piece so dropped is called a dropt cog.
Drop in the eye. Almost drunk.
Dropping member. A man’s yard with a gonorrhoea.
Drop coves. Persons who practice the fraud of dropping a ring or other article, and picking it up before the person intended to be defrauded, they pretend that the thing is very valuable to induce their gull to lend them money, or to purchase the article. See Fawny rig, and Money droppers.
To drop down. To be dispirited. This expression is used by thieves to signify that their companion did not die game, as the kiddy dropped down when he went to be twisted; the young fellow was very low spirited when he walked out to be hanged.
To drub. To beat any one with a stick, or rope’s end: perhaps a contraction of Dry rub. It is also used to signify a good beating with any instrument.
Drummer. A jockey term for a horse that throws about his fore legs irregularly: the idea is taken from a kettle drummer, who in beating makes many flourishes with his drumsticks.
Drunk. Drunk as a wheel-barrow. Drunk as David’s sow. See David’s sow.
Drury lane ague. The venereal disorder.
Drury lane vestal. A woman of the town, or prostitute; Drury-lane and its environs were formerly the residence of many of those ladies.
Dry bob. A smart repartee: also copulation without emission; in law Latin, siccus robertulus.
Dry boots. A sly humorous fellow.
Dub. A picklock, or master-key. Cant.
Dub lay. Robbing houses by picking the locks.
Dub the jigger. Open the door. Cant.
Dub o’ th’ hick. A lick on the head.
Dubber. A picker of locks. Cant.
Duce. Two-pence.
Duck. A lame duck; an Exchange-alley phrase for a stock-jobber, who either cannot or will not pay his losses, or, differences, in which case he is said to Waddle out of the alley, as he cannot appear there again till his debts are settled and paid; should he attempt it, he would be hustled out by the fraternity.
Ducks and drakes. To make ducks and drakes: a school-boy’s amusement, practised with pieces of tile, oyster-shells, or flattish stones, which being skimmed along the surface of a pond, or still river, rebound many times. To make ducks and drakes of one’s money; to throw it idly away.
Duck f-ck-R. The man who has the care of the poultry on board a ship of war.
Duck legs. Short legs.
Dudders, or Whispering dudders. Cheats who travel the country, pretending to sell smuggled goods: they accost their intended dupes in a whisper. The goods they have for sale are old shop-keepers, or damaged; purchased by them of large manufactories. See Duffer.
Duddering rake. A thundering rake, a buck of the first head, one extremely lewd.
Dudgeon. Anger.
Duds. Clothes.
Duffers. Cheats who ply in different parts of the town, particularly about Water-lane, opposite St. Clement’s church, in the Strand, and pretend to deal in smuggled goods, stopping all country people, or such as they think they can impose on; which they frequently do, by selling them Spital-fields goods at double their current price.
Dugs. A woman’s breasts,
Duke, or Rum duke. A queer unaccountable fellow.
Duke of limbs. A tall, awkward, ill-made fellow.
Duke humphrey. To dine with Duke Humphrey; to fast. In old St. Paul’s church was an aisle called Duke Humphrey’s walk (from a tomb vulgarly called his, but in reality belonging to John of Gaunt), and persons who walked there, while others were at dinner, were said to dine with Duke Humphrey.
Dull swift. A stupid, sluggish fellow, one long going on an errand.
Dumb arm. A lame arm.
Dumb-founded. Silenced, also soundly beaten.
Dumb glutton. A woman’s privities.
Dumb watch. A venereal bubo in the groin.
Dummee. A pocket book. A dummee hunter. A pick-pocket, who lurks about to steal pocket books out of gentlemen’s pockets. Frisk the dummee of the screens; take all the bank notes out of the pocket book, ding the dummee, and bolt, they sing out beef. Throw away the pocket book, and run off, as they call out “stop thief.”
Dumplin. A short thick man or woman. Norfolk dumplin; a jeering appellation of a Norfolk man, dumplins being a favourite kind of food in that county.
Dumps. Down in the dumps; low-spirited, melancholy: jocularly said to be derived from Dumpos, a king of Egypt, who died of melancholy. Dumps are also small pieces of lead, cast by schoolboys in the shape of money.
Dun. An importunate creditor. Dunny, in the provincial dialect of several counties, signifies Deaf; to dun, then, perhaps may mean to deafen with importunate demands: some derive it from the word Donnez, which signifies Give. But the true original meaning of the word, owes its birth to one Joe Dun, a famous bailiff of the town of Lincoln, so extremely active, and so dexterous in his business, that it became a proverb, when a man refused to pay, Why do not you Dun him? that is, Why do not you set Dun to attest him? Hence it became a cant word, and is now as old as since the days of Henry Vii. Dun was also the general name for the hangman, before that of Jack Ketch.
And presently a halter got,
Made of the best strong hempen teer,
And ere a cat could lick her ear,
Had tied it up with as much art,
As Dun himself could do for’s heart.
Cotton’s Virgil Trav. book iv.
Dunaker. A stealer of cows and calves.
Dunegan. A privy. A water closet.
Dunghill. A coward: a cockpit phrase, all but gamecocks being styled dunghills. To die dunghill; to repent, or shew any signs of contrition at the gallows. Moving dunghill; a dirty, filthy man or woman. Dung, an abbreviation of dunghill, also means a journeyman taylor who submits to the law for regulating journeymen taylors’ wages, therefore deemed by the flints a coward. See Flints.
Dunnock. A cow. Cunt.
To dup. To open a door: a contraction of Do ope or Open. See Dub.
Durham man. Knocker kneed, he grinds mustard with his knees: Durham is famous for its mustard.
Dust. Money. Down with your dust; deposit the money. To raise or kick up a dust; to make a disturbance or riot: see Breeze. Dust it away; drink about.
Dustman. A dead man: your father is a dustman.
Dutch comfort. Thank God it is no worse.
Dutch concert. Where every one plays or signs a different tune.
Dutch feast. Where the entertainer gets drunk before his guest.
Dutch reckoning, or Alle-mal. A verbal or lump account, without particulars, as brought at spungiug or bawdy houses.
Dutchess. A woman enjoyed with her pattens on, or by a man-in boots, is said to be made a dutchess.
Die hard, or Game. To die hard, is to shew no signs of fear or contrition at the gallows; not to whiddle or squeak. This advice is frequently given to felons going to suffer the law, by their old comrades, anxious for the honour of the gang.
Earnest. A deposit in part of payment, to bind a bargain.
Earth bath. A Grave.
Easy. Make the cull easy or quiet; gag or kill him. As easy as pissing the bed.
Easy virtue. A lady of easy virtue: an impure or prostitute.
Eat. To eat like a beggar man, and wag his under jaw; a jocular reproach to a proud man. To eat one’s words; to retract what one has said.
To edge. To excite, stimulate, or provoke; or as it is vulgarly called, to egg a man on. Fall back, fall edge; i.e. let what will happen. Some derive to egg on, from the Latin word, Age, age.
Eight eyes. I will knock out two of your eight eyes; a common Billingsgate threat from one fish nymph to another: every woman, according to the naturalists of that society, having eight eyes; viz. two seeing eyes, two bub-eyes, a bell-eye, two pope’s eyes, and a ***-eye. He has fallen down and trod upon his eye; said of one who has a black eye.
Elbow grease. Labour. Elbow grease will make an oak table shine.
Elbow room. Sufficient space to act in. Out at elbows; said of an estate that is mortgaged.
Elbow shaker. A gamester, one who rattles Saint Hugh’s bones, i.e. the dice.
Ellenborough lodge. The King’s Bench Prison. Lord Ellenborough’s teeth; the chevaux de frize round the top of the wall of that prison.
Elf. A fairy or hobgoblin, a little man or woman.
Emperor. Drunk as an emperor, i.e. ten times as drunk as a lord.
English burgundy. Porter.
Ensign bearer. A drunken man, who looks red in the face, or hoists his colours in his drink.
Equipt. Rich; also, having new clothes. Well equipt; full of money, or well dressed. The cull equipped me with a brace of meggs; the gentleman furnished me with. a couple of guineas.
Essex lion. A calf; Essex being famous for calves, and chiefly supplying the London markets.
Essex stile. A ditch; a great part of Essex is low marshy ground, in which there are more ditches than Stiles.
Eternity Box. A coffin.
Eves. Hen roosts.
Eve’s custom-house, where Adam made his first entry. The monosyllable.
Eves dropper. One that lurks about to rob hen-roosts; also a listener at doors and windows, to hear private conversation.
Evil. A halter. Cant, Also a wife.
Ewe. A white ewe; a beautiful woman. An old ewe, drest lamb fashion; an old woman, drest like a young girl.
Execution day. Washing day.
Expended. Killed: alluding to the gunner’s accounts, wherein the articles consumed are charged under the title of expended. Sea phrase.
Eye. It’s all my eye and Betty Martin. It’s all nonsense, all mere stuff.
Eye-sore. A disagreeable object. It will be an eye-sore as long as she lives, said by a limn whose wife was cut for a fistula in ano.
Face-making. Begetting children. To face it out; to persist in a falsity. No face but his own: a saying of one who has no money in his pocket or no court cards in his hand.
Facer. A bumper, a glass filled so full as to leave no room for the lip. Also a violent blow on the face.
Fadge. It won’t fadge; it won’t do. A farthing.
To fag. To beat. Fag the bloss; beat the wench; Cant. A fag also means a boy of an inferior form or class, who acts as a servant to one of a superior, who is said to fag him, he is my fag; whence, perhaps, fagged out, for jaded or tired. To stand a good fag; not to be soon tired.
Fagger. A little boy put in at a window to rob the house.
Faggot. A man hired at a muster to appear as a soldier. To faggot in the canting sense, means to bind: an allusion to the faggots made up by the woodmen, which are all bound. Faggot the culls; bind the men.
Faithful. One of the faithful; a taylor who gives long credit. His faith has made him unwhole; i.e. trusting too much, broke him.
Fair. A set of subterraneous rooms in the Fleet Prison.
Fakement. A counterfeit signature. A forgery. Tell the macers to mind their fakements; desire the swindlers to be careful not to forge another person’s signature.
Fallalls. Ornaments, chiefly women’s, such as ribands, necklaces, &c.
Fallen away from a horse load to a cart load. A saying on one grown fat.
Family man. A thief or receiver of stolen goods.
Fam lay. Going into a goldsmith’s shop, under pretence of buying a wedding ring, and palming one or two, by daubing the hand with some viscous matter.
Fams, or Fambles. Hands. Famble cheats; rings or gloves. Cant.
To famgrasp. To shake bands: figuratively, to agree or make up a difference. Famgrasp the cove; shake hands with the fellow. Cant.
Family of love. Lewd women; also, a religious sect.
Fancy man. A man kept by a lady for secret services.
To fan. To beat any one. I fanned him sweetly; I beat him heartily.
Fantastically dressed, with more rags than ribands.
Fart. He has let a brewer’s fart, grains and all; said of one who has bewrayed his breeches.
Piss and fart.
Mingere cum bumbis,
Res saluberrima est lumbis.
I dare not trust my a-se with a fart: said by a person troubled with a looseness.
Fart catcher. A valet or footman from his walking behind his master or mistress.
Farting crackers. Breeches.
Fartleberries. Excrement hanging about the anus.
Fastner. A warrant.
Fastnesses. Bogs.
Fat. The last landed, inned, or stowed, of any sort of merchandise: so called by the water-side porters, carmen, &c. All the fat is in the fire; that is, it is all over with us: a saying used in case of any miscarriage or disappointment in an undertaking; an allusion to overturning the frying pan into the fire. Fat, among printers, means void spaces.
As fat as a hen in the forehead. A saying of a meagre person.
Fat cull. A rich fellow.
Fat headed. Stupid.
Faulkner. A tumbler, juggler, or shewer of tricks; perhaps because they lure the people, as a faulconer does his hawks. Cant.
Faytors, or Fators. Fortune tellers.
Fawney rig. A common fraud, thus practised: A fellow drops a brass ring, double gilt, which he picks up before the party meant to be cheated, and to whom he disposes of it for less than its supposed, and ten times more than its real, value. See Money dropper.
Fawney. A ring.
Feague. To feague a horse; to put ginger up a horse’s fundament, and formerly, as it is said, a live eel, to make him lively and carry his tail well; it is said, a forfeit is incurred by any horse-dealer’s servant, who shall shew a horse without first feaguing him. Feague is used, figuratively, for encouraging or spiriting one up.
Feak. The fundament.
To Feather one’s nest. To enrich one’s self.
Feather-bed lane. A rough or stony lane.
Fee, faw, fum. Nonsensical words, supposed in childish story-books to be spoken by giants. I am not to be frighted by fee, faw, fum; I am not to be scared by nonsense.
Feeder. A spoon. To nab the feeder; to steal a spoon.
Feet. To make feet for children’s stockings; to beget children. An officer of feet; a jocular title for an officer of infantry.
Feint. A sham attack on one part, when a real one is meant at another.
Fellow commoner. An empty bottle: so called at the university of Cambridge, where fellow commoners are not in general considered as over full of learning. At Oxford an empty bottle is called a gentleman commoner for the same reason. They pay at Cambridge 250 l. a year for the privilege of wearing a gold or silver tassel to their caps. The younger branches of the nobility have the privilege of wearing a hat, and from thence are denominated Hat fellow Commoners.
Fen. A bawd, or common prostitute. Cant.
To fence. To pawn or sell to a receiver of stolen goods. The kiddey fenced his thimble for three quids; the young fellow pawned his watch for three guineas. To fence invariably means to pawn or sell goods to a receiver.
Fencing ken. The magazine, or warehouse, where stolen goods are secreted.
Ferme. A hole. Cant.
Fermerdy beggars. All those who have not the sham sores or clymes.
Ferrara. Andrea Ferrara; the name of a famous sword-cutler: most of the Highland broad-swords are marked with his name; whence an Andrea Ferrara has become the common name for the glaymore or Highland broad-sword. See Claymore.
Ferret. A tradesman who sells goods to youug unthrift heirs, at excessive rates, and then continually duns them for the debt. To ferret; to search out or expel any one from his hiding-place, as a ferret drives out rabbits; also to cheat. Ferret-eyed; red-eyed: ferrets have red eyes.
Fetch. A trick, wheedle, or invention to deceive.
Feuterer. A dog-keeper: from the French vautrier, or vaultrier, one that leads a lime hound for the chase.
To fib. To beat. Fib the cove’s quarron in the rumpad for the lour in his bung; beat the fellow in the highway for the money in his purse. Cant. — A fib is also a tiny lie.
Fice, or Foyse. A small windy escape backwards, more obvious to the nose than ears; frequently by old ladies charged on their lap-dogs. See Fizzle.
Fid of tobacco. A quid, from the small pieces of tow with which the vent or touch hole of a cannon is stopped. Sea Term.
Fiddle faddle. Trifling discourse, nonsense. A mere fiddle faddle fellow; a trifier.
Fiddlestick’s end. Nothing; the end of the ancient fiddlesticks ending in a point; hence metaphorically used to express a thing terminating in nothing.
Fidgets. He has got the fidgets; said of one that cannot sit long in a place.
Fidlam ben. General thieves; called also St. Peter’s sons, having every finger a fish-hook. Cant.
Fiddlers money. All sixpences: sixpence being the usual sum paid by each couple, for music at country wakes and hops. Fiddler’s fare; meat, drink, and money. Fiddler’s pay; thanks and wine.
Field lane duck. A baked sheep’s head.
Fieri facias. A red-faced man is said to have been served with a writ of fieri facias.
Figdean. To kill.
Figger. A little boy put in at a window to hand out goods to the diver. See Diver.
Figging law. The art of picking pockets. Cant.
Figure dancer. One who alters figures on bank notes, converting tens to hundreds.
Filch, or Filel. A beggar’s staff, with an iron hook at the end, to pluck clothes from an hedge, or any thing out of a casement. Filcher; the same as angler. Filching cove; a man thief. Filching mort; a woman thief.
File, file cloy, or Bungnipper. A pick pocket. To file; to rob or cheat. The file, or bungnipper, goes generally in company with two assistants, the adam tiler, and another called the bulk or bulker, Whose business it is to jostle the person they intend to rob, and push him against the wall, while the file picks his pocket, and gives’the booty to the adam tiler, who scours off with it. Cant.
Fin. An arm. A one finned fellow; a man who has lost an arm. Sea phrase.
Fine. Fine as five pence. Fine as a cow-t — d stuck with primroses.
Fine. A man imprisoned for any offence. A fine of eighty-four months; a transportation for seven years.
Finger in eye. To put finger in eye; to weep: commonly applied to women. The more you cry the less you’ll p-ss; a consolatory speech used by sailors to their doxies. It is as great a pity to see a woman cry, as to see a goose walk barefoot; another of the same kind.
Finger post. A parson: so called, because he points out a way to others which he never goes himself. Like the finger post, he points out a way he has never been, and probably will never go, i.e. the way to heaven.
Finish. The finish; a small coffee-house in Coven Garden, market, opposite Russel-street, open very early in the morning, and therefore resorted to by debauchees shut out of every other house: it is also called Carpenter’s coffee-house.
Firing a gun. Introducing a story by head and shoulders. A man wanting to tell a particular story, said to the company, Hark! did you not hear a gun? — but now we are talking of a gun, I will tell you the story of one.
To fire a slug. To drink a dram.
Fire priggers. Villains who rob at fires under pretence of assisting in removing the goods.
Fire ship. A wench who has the venereal disease.
Fire shovel. He or she when young, was fed with a fire shovel; a saying of persons with wide mouths.
Fish. A seaman. A scaly fish; a rough, blunt tar. To have other fish to fry; to have other matters to mind, something else to do.
Fit. Suitable. It won’t fit; It will not suit or do.
Five shillings. The sign of five shillings, i.e. the crown. Fifteen shillings; the sign of the three crowns.
Fizzle. An escape backward,
Flabagasted. Confounded.
Flabby. Relaxed, flaccid, not firm or solid.
Flag. A groat. Cant. — The flag of defiance, or bloody flag is out; signifying the man is drunk, and alluding to the redness of his face. Sea phrase.
Flam. A lie, or sham story: also a single stroke on a drum. To flam; to hum, to amuse, to deceive. Flim flams; idle stories.
Flap dragon. A clap, or pox.
To Flare. To blaze, shine or glare.
Flash. Knowing. Understanding another’s meaning. The swell was flash, so I could not draw his fogle. The gentleman saw what I was about, and therefore I could not pick his pocket of his silk handkerchief. To patter flash, to speak the slang language. See Patter.
Flash panneys. Houses to which thieves and prostitutes resort.
Next for his favourite Mot (Girl) the Kiddey (Youth) looks
about,
Flash song.
Flash. A periwig. Rum flash; a fine long wig. Queer flash; a miserable weather-beaten caxon.
To Flash. To shew ostentatiously. To flash one’s ivory; to laugh and shew one’s teeth. Don’t flash your ivory, but shut your potatoe trap, and keep your guts warm; the Devil loves hot tripes.
To Flash the hash. To vomit. Cant.
Flash ken. A house that harbours thieves.
Flash lingo. The canting or slang language.
Flash man. A bully to a bawdy house. A whore’s bully.
Flat. A bubble, gull, or silly fellow.
Flat cock. A female.
Flaybottomist. A bum-brusher, or schoolmaster.
To Flay, or Flea, the fox. To vomit.
Flea bite. A trifling injury. To send any one away with a flea in his ear; to give any one a hearty scolding.
To Fleece. To rob, cheat, or plunder.
Flemish account. A losing, or bad account.
Flesh broker. A match-maker, a bawd.
Flicker. A drinking glass. Cant.
Flickering. Grinning or laughing in a man’s face.
Flicking. Cutting. Flick me some panam and caffan; cut me some bread and cheese. Flick the peter; cut off the cloak-bag, or portmanteau.
To Fling. To trick or cheat. He flung me fairly out of it: he cheated me out of it.
Flints. Journeymen taylors, who on a late occasion refused to work for the wages settled by law. Those who submitted, were by the mutineers styled dungs, i.e. dunghills.
Flip. Small beer, brandy, and sugar: this mixture, with the addition of a lemon, was by sailors, formerly called Sir Cloudsly, in memory of Sir Cloudsly Shovel, who used frequently to regale himself with it.
Floating academy. See Campbell’s academy.
Floating hell. The hulks.
Flogging cully. A debilitated lecher, commonly an old one.
Flogging cove. The beadle, or whipper, in Bridewell.
Flogging stake. The whipping-post.
To floor. To knock down. Floor the pig; knock down the officer.
Flourish. To take a flourish; to enjoy a woman in a hasty manner, to take a flyer. See Flyer.
To flout. To jeer, to ridicule.
Flummery. Oatmeal and water boiled to a jelly; also compliments, neither of which are over-nourishing.
Flush in the pocket. Full of money. The cull is flush in the fob. The fellow is full of money.
Flustered. Drunk.
Flute. The recorder of a corporation; a recorder was an antient musical instrument.
To flux. To cheat, cozen, or over-reach; also to salivate. To flux a wig; to put it up in curl, and bake it.
Fly. Knowing. Acquainted with another’s meaning or proceeding. The rattling cove is fly; the coachman knows what we are about.
Fly. A waggon. Cant.
Fly-by-night. You old fly-by-night; an ancient term of reproach to an old woman, signifying that she was a witch, and alluding to the nocturnal excursions attributed to witches, who were supposed to fly abroad to their meetings, mounted on brooms.
Fly slicers. Life-guard men, from their sitting on horseback, under an arch, where they are frequently observed to drive away flies with their swords.
Flyer. To take a flyer; to enjoy a woman with her clothes on, or without going to bed.
Flyers. Shoes.
Fly-flapped. Whipt in the stocks, or at the cart’s tail.
Flying camps. Beggars plying in a body at funerals.
Flying giggers. Turnpike gates.
Flying house. A lock in wrestling, by which he who uses it throws his adversary over his head.
Flying pasty. Sirreverence wrapped in paper and thrown over a neighbour’s wall.
Flying porters. Cheats who obtain money by pretending to persons who have been lately robbed, that they may come from a place or party where, and from whom, they may receive information respecting the goods stolen from them, and demand payment as porters.
Flying stationers. Ballad-singers and hawkers of penny histories.
Flymsey. A bank note.
Fob. A cheat, trick, or contrivance, I will not be fobbed off so; I will not be thus deceived with false pretences. The fob is also a small breeches pocket for holding a watch.
Fog. Smoke. Cant.
Fogey. Old Fogey. A nickname for an invalid soldier: derived from the French word fougeux, fierce or fiery.
Fogle. A silk handkerchief,
Fogram. An old fogram; a fusty old fellow.
Fogus. Tobacco. Tip me a gage of fogus; give me a pipe of tobacco. Cant.
Fool. A fool at the end of a stick; a fool at one end, and a maggot at the other; gibes on an angler.
Fool finder. A bailiff.
Foolish. An expression among impures, signifying the cully who pays, in opposition to a flash man. Is he foolish or flash?
Foot pads, or Low pads. Rogues who rob on foot.
Foot wabbler. A contemptuous appellation for a foot soldier, commonly used by the cavalry.
Footman’s mawnd. An artificial sore made with unslaked lime, soap, and the rust of old iron, on the back of a beggar’s hand, as if hurt by the bite or kick of a horse.
Footy despicable. A footy fellow, a despicable fellow; from the French foutue.
Forefoot, or Paw. Give us your fore foot; give us your hand.
Foreman of the jury. One who engrosses all the talk to himself, or speaks for the rest of the company.
Fork. A pickpocket. Let us fork him; let us pick his pocket. —‘The newest and most dexterous way, which is, to thrust the fingers strait, stiff, open, and very quick, into the pocket, and so closing them, hook what can be held between them.’ N.B. This was taken from a book written many years ago: doubtless the art of picking pockets, like all others, must have been much improved since that time.
Forlorn hope. A gamester’s last stake.
Fortune hunters. Indigent men, seeking to enrich themselves by marrying a woman of fortune.
Fortune teller, or Cunning man. A judge, who tells every prisoner his fortune, lot or doom. To go before the fortune teller, lambskin men, or conjuror; to be tried at an assize. See Lambskin men.
Foul. To foul a plate with a man, to take a dinner with him.
Foul-mouthed. Abusive.
Foundling. A child dropped in the streets, and found, and educated at the parish expence.
Fousil. The name of a public house, where the Eccentrics assemble in May’s Buildings, St. Martin’s Lane.
Fox. A sharp, cunning fellow. Also an old term for a sword, probably a rusty one, or else from its being dyed red with blood; some say this name alluded to certain swords of remarkable good temper, or metal, marked with the figure of a fox, probably the sign, or rebus, of the maker.
Fox’s paw. The vulgar pronunciation of the French words faux pas. He made a confounded fox’s paw.
Foxed. Intoxicated.
Foxing a boot. Mending the foot by capping it.
Foyst. A pickpocket, cheat, or rogue. See Wotton’s gang.
To foyst. To pick a pocket.
Foysted in. Words or passages surreptitiously interpolated or inserted into a book or writing.
Fraters. Vagabonds who beg with sham patents, or briefs, for hospitals, fires, inundations, &c.
Free. Free of fumblers hall; a saying of one who cannot get his wife with child.
Free and easy johns. A society which meet at the Hole in the Wall, Fleet-street, to tipple porter, and sing bawdry.
Free booters. Lawless robbers and plunderers: originally soldiers who served without pay, for the privilege of plundering the enemy.
Freeholder. He whose wife accompanies him to the alehouse.
Freeman’s quay. Free of expence. To lush at Freeman’s Quay; to drink at another’s cost.
Freeze. A thin, small, hard cider, much used by vintners and coopers in parting their wines, to lower the price of them, and to advance their gain. A freezing vintner; a vintner who balderdashes his wine.
French cream. Brandy; so called by the old tabbies and dowagers when drank in their tea.
French disease. The venereal disease, said to have been imported from France. French gout; the same. He suffered by a blow over the snout with a French faggot-stick; i.e. he lost his nose by the pox.
French leave. To take French leave; to go off without taking leave of the company: a saying frequently applied to persons who have run away from their creditors.
Frenchified. Infected with the venereal disease. The mort is Frenchified: the wench is infected.
Fresh milk. Cambridge new comers to the university.
Freshman. One just entered a member of the university.
Fribble. An effeminate fop; a name borrowed from a celebrated character of that kind, in the farce of Miss in her Teens, written by Mr. Garrick.
Friday-face. A dismal countenance. Before, and even long after the Reformation, Friday was a day of abstinence, or jour maigre. Immediately after the restoration of king Charles II. a proclamation was issued, prohibiting all publicans from dressing any suppers on a Friday.
To frig. Figuratively used for trifling.
Frig pig. A trifling, fiddle-faddle fellow.
Frigate. A well-rigged frigate; a well-dressed wench.
Frisk. To dance the Paddington frisk; to be hanged.
To frisk. Used by thieves to signify searching a person whom they have robbed. Blast his eyes! frisk him.
Froe, or Vroe, A woman, wife, or mistress. Brush to your froe, or bloss, and wheedle for crop; run to your mistress, and sooth and coax her out of some money. Dutch.
Froglander. A Dutchman.
Frosty face. One pitted with the small pox.
Frog’s wine. Gin.
Fruitful vine. A woman’s private parts, i.e. that has Flowers every month, and bears fruit in nine months.
Frummagemmed. Choaked, strangled, suffocated, or hanged. Cant.
Fubsey. Plump. A fubsey wench; a plump, healthy wench.
Fuddle. Drunk. This is rum fuddle; this is excellent tipple, or drink. Fuddle; drunk. Fuddle cap; a drunkard.
Fudge. Nonsense.
Fulhams. Loaded dice are called high and lowmen, or high and low fulhams, by Ben Jonson and other writers of his time; either because they were made at Fulham, or from that place being the resort of sharpers.
Full of emptiness. Jocular term for empty.
Full march. The Scotch greys are in full march by the crown office; the lice are crawling down his head.
Fumbler. An old or impotent man. To fumble, also means to go awkwardly about any work, or manual operation.
Fun. A cheat, or trick. Do you think to fun me out of it? Do you think to cheat me? — Also the breech, perhaps from being the abbreviation of fundament. I’ll kick your fun. Cant.
To funk. To use an unfair motion of the hand in plumping at taw. Schoolboy’s term.
Funk. To smoke; figuratively, to smoke or stink through fear. I was in a cursed funk. To funk the cobler; a schoolboy’s trick, performed with assafoettida and cotton, which are stuffed into a pipe: the cotton being lighted, and the bowl of the pipe covered with a coarse handkerchief, the smoke is blown out at the small end, through the crannies of a cobler’s stall.
Furmen. Aldermen.
Furmity, or Fromenty. Wheat boiled up to a jelly. To simper like a furmity kettle: to smile, or look merry about the gills.
Fuss. A confusion, a hurry, an unnecessary to do about trifles.
Fussock. A lazy fat woman. An old fussock; a frowsy old woman.
Fustian. Bombast language. Red fustian; port wine.
Fusty luggs. A beastly, sluttish woman.
To fuzz. To shuffle cards minutely: also, to change the pack.
Gab, or Gob. The mouth. Gift of the gab; a facility of speech, nimble tongued eloquence. To blow the gab; to confess, or peach.
Gab, or Gob, string. A bridle.
Gabby. A foolish fellow.
Gad-so. An exclamation said to be derived from the Italian word cazzo.
Gaff. A fair. The drop coves maced the joskins at the gaff; the ring-droppers cheated the countryman at the fair.
To gaff. To game by tossing up halfpence.
Gag. An instrument used chiefly by housebreakers and thieves, for propping open the mouth of a person robbed, thereby to prevent his calling out for assistance.
Gage. A quart pot, or a pint; also a pipe. Cant.
Gage, or Fogus. A pipe of tobacco.
Gaggers. High and Low. Cheats, who by sham pretences, and wonderful stories of their sufferings, impose on the credulity of well meaning people. See Rum gagger.
Galimaufrey. A hodgepodge made up of the remnants and scraps of the larder.
Gall. His gall is not yet broken; a saying used in prisons of a man just brought in, who appears dejected.
Galley. Building the galley; a game formerly used at sea, in order to put a trick upon a landsman, or fresh-water sailor. It being agreed to play at that game, one sailor personates the builder, and another the merchant or contractor: the builder first begins by laying the keel, which consists of a number of men laid all along on their backs, one after another, that is, head to foot; he next puts in the ribs or knees, by making a number of men sit feet to feet, at right angles to, and on each side of, the keel: he now fixing on the person intended to be the object of the joke, observes he is a fierce-looking fellow, and fit for the lion; he accordingly places him at the head, his arms being held or locked in by the two persons next to him, representing the ribs. After several other dispositions, the builder delivers over the galley to the contractor as complete: but he, among other faults and objections, observes the lion is not gilt, on which the builder or one of his assistants, runs to the head, and dipping a mop in the excrement, thrusts it into the face of the lion.
Galley foist. A city barge, used formerly on the lord mayor’s day, when he was sworn in at Westminster.
Gallied. Hurried, vexed, over-fatigued, perhaps like a galley slave.
Galligaskins. Breeches.
Gallipot. A nick namefor an apothecary,
Gallore, or Golore. Plenty.
Galloper. A blood horse. A hunter. The toby gill clapped his bleeders to his galloper and tipped the straps the double. The highwayman spurred his horse and got away from the officers.
Gallows bird. A grief, or pickpocket; also one that associates with them.
Games. Thin, ill-shapped legs: a corruption of the French word jambes. Fancy gambs; sore or swelled legs.
Gambadoes. Leathern cases of stiff leather, used in Devonshire instead of boots; they are fastened to the saddle, and admit the leg, shoe and all: the name was at first jocularly given.
Gambler. A sharper, of tricking, gamester.
Game. Any mode of robbing. The toby is now a queer game; to rob on the highway is now a bad mode of acting. This observation is frequently made by thieves; the roads being now so well guarded by the horse patrole; and gentlemen travel with little cash in their pockets.
Game. Bubbles or pigeons drawn in to be cheated. Also, at bawdy-houses, lewd women. Mother have you any game; mother, have you any girls? To die game; to suffer at the gallows without shewing any signs of fear or repentance. Game pullet; a young whore, or forward girl in the way of becoming one.
Gamon. To humbug. To deceive, To tell lies. What rum gamon the old file pitched to the flat; how finely the knowing old fellow humbugged the fool.
Gamon and patter. Common place talk of any profession; as the gamon and patter of a horse-dealer, sailor, &c.
Gan. The mouth or lips. Cant.
Gander month. That month in which a man’s wife-lies in: wherefore, during that time, husbands plead a sort of indulgence in matters of gallantry.
Gang. A company of men, a body of sailors, a knot of thieves, pickpockets, &c. A gang of sheep trotters; the four feet of a sheep.
Gaoler’s coach. A hurdle: traitors being usually conveyed from the gaol, to the place of execution, on a hurdle or sledge.
Gap stopper. A whoremaster.
Gapeseed. Sights; any thing to feed the eye. I am come abroad for a little gapeseed.
Garnish. An entrance fee demanded by the old prisoners of one just committed to gaol.
Garret, or Upper story. The head. His garret, or upper story, is empty, or unfurnished; i.e. he has no brains, he is a fool.
Garret election. A ludicrous ceremony, practised every new parliament: it consists of a mock election of two members to represent the borough of Garret (a few straggling cottages near Wandsworth in Surry); the qualification of a voter is, having enjoyed a woman in the open air within that district: the candidates are commonly fellows of low humour, who dress themselves up in a ridiculous manner. As this brings a prodigious concourse of people to Wandsworth, the publicans of that place jointly contribute to the expence, which is sometimes considerable.
Gawkey. A tall, thin, awkward young man or woman.
Gaying instrument. The penis.
Gazebo. An elevated observatory or summer-house.
Gee. It won’t gee; it won’t hit or do, it does not suit or fit.
Gelding. An eunuch.
Gelt. Money, German. — Also, castrated.
Gentle craft. The art of shoeniaking. One of the gentle craft: a shoemaker: so called because once practised by St. Crispin.
Gentleman commoner. An empty bottle; an university joke, gentlemen commoners not being deemed over full of learning.
Gentleman’s companion. A louse.
Gentleman’s master. A highway robber, because he makes a gentleman obey his commands, i.e. stand and deliver.
Gentleman of three ins. In debt, in gaol, and in danger of remaining there for life: or, in gaol, indicted, and in danger of being hanged in chains.
Gentleman of three outs. That is, without money, without wit, and without manners: some add another out, i.e. without credit.
Gentry cove. A gentleman. Cant.
Gentry cove ken. A gentleman’s house. Cant.
Gentry mort. A gentlewoman.
George. Yellow George; a guinea. Brown George: an ammunition loaf.
German duck. Haifa sheep’s head boiled with onions.
Get. One of his get; one of his offspring, or begetting.
Gib cat. A northern name for a he cat, there commonly called Gilbert. As melancholy as a gib cat; as melancholy as a he cat who has been caterwauling, whence they always return scratched, hungry, and out of spirits. Aristotle says, Omne animal post coitum est triste; to which an anonymous author has given the following exception, preter gallum gallinaceum, et sucerdotem gratis fornicantem.
Gibberish. The cant language of thieves and gypsies, called Pedlars’ French, and St. Giles’s Greek: see St. giles’s Greek. Also the mystic language of Geber, used by chymists. Gibberish likewise means a sort of disguised language, formed by inserting any consonant between each syllable of an English word; in which case it is called the gibberish of the letter inserted: if F, it is the F gibberish; if G, the G gibberish; as in the sentence How do you do? Howg dog youg dog.
Gibbe. A horse that shrinks from the collar and will not draw.
Giblets. To join giblets; said of a man and woman who cohabit as husband and wife, without being married; also to copulate.
Gibson, or Sir john gibbon, A two-legged stool, used to support the body of a coach whilst finishing.
Gifts. Small white specks under the finger nails, said to portend gifts or presents. A stingy man is said to be as full of gifts as a brazen horse of his farts.
Gift of the gab. A facility of speech.
Gigg. A nose. Snitchel his gigg; fillip his nose. Grunter’s gigg; a hog’s snout. Gigg is also a high one-horse chaise, and a woman’s privities. To gigg a Smithfield hank; to hamstring an over-drove ox, vulgarly called a mad bullock.
Gigger. A latch, or door. Dub the gigger; open the door. Gigger dubber; the turnkey of a jaol.
To Giggle. To suppress a laugh. Gigglers; wanton women.
Giles’s or St. giles’s breed. Fat, ragged, and saucy; Newton and Dyot streets, the grand head-quarters-of most of the thieves and pickpockets about London, are in St. Giles’s Giles’s parish. St. Giles’s Greek; the cant language, called also Slang, Pedlars’ French, and Flash.
Gilflurt. A proud minks, a vain capricious woman,
Gill. The abbreviation of Gillian, figuratively used for woman. Every jack has his gill; i.e. every jack has his gillian, or female mate.
Gills. The cheeks. To look rosy about the gills; to have a fresh complexion. To look merry about the gills: to appear cheerful.
Gilly gaupus. A Scotch term for a tall awkward fellow.
Gilt, or Rum dubber. A thief who picks locks, so called from the gilt or picklock key: many of them are so expert, that, from the lock of a church door to that of the smallest cabinet, they will find means to open it; these go into reputable public houses, where, pretending business, they contrive to get into private rooms, up stairs, where they open any bureaus or trunks they happen to find there.
Gimblet-eyed. Squinting, either in man or woman.
Gimcrack, or Jimcrack. A spruce wench; a gimcrack also means a person who has a turn for mechanical contrivances.
Gin spinner. A distiller.
Gingambobs. Toys, bawbles; also a man’s privities. See Thingambobs.
Ginger-pated, or Ginger-hackled. Red haired: a term borrowed from the cockpit, where red cocks are called gingers,
Gingerbread. A cake made of treacle, flour, and grated ginger; also money. He has the gingerbread; he is rich.
Gingerbread work. Gilding and carving: these terms are particularly applied by seamen on board Newcastle colliers, to the decorations of the sterns and quarters of West–Indiamen, which they have the greatest joy in defacing.
Gingerly. Softly, gently, tenderly. To go gingerly to work: to attempt a thing gently, or cautiously.
Ginny. An instrument to lift up a great, in order to steal what is in the window. Cant.
Gip from gups a Wolf. A servant at college.
Girds. Quips, taunts, severe or biting reflections.
Gizzard. To grumble in the gizzard; to be secretly displeased.
Glass eyes. A nick name for one wearing spectacles.
Glaymore. A Highland broad-sword; from the Erse Glay, or Glaive, a sword; and More, great.
Glaze. A window.
Glazier. One who breaks windows and shew-glasses, to steal goods exposed for sale. Glaziers; eyes. Cant. — Is your father a glazier; a question asked of a lad or young man, who stands between the speaker and the candle, or fire. If it is answered in the negative, the rejoinder is — I wish he was, that he might make a window through your body, to enable us to see the fire or light.
Glib. Smooth, slippery. Glib tongued; talkative.
Glim. A candle, or dark lantern, used in housebreaking; also fire. To glim; to burn in the hand. Cant.
Glimfenders. Andirons. Cant.
Glimflashy. Angry, or in a passion. Cant.
Glim jack. A link-boy. Cant.
Glimmer. Fire. Cant.
Glimmerers. Persons begging with sham licences, pretending losses by fire.
Glimms. Eyes.
Glimstick. A candlestick. Cant.
Globe. Pewter. Cant.
Gloves. To give any one a pair of gloves; to make them a present or bribe. To win a pair of gloves; to kiss a man whilst he sleeps: for this a pair of gloves is due to any lady who will thus earn them.
Gluepot. A parson: from joining men and women together in matrimony.
Glum. Sullen.
Glutton. A term used by bruisers to signify a man who will bear a great deal of beating.
Gnarler. A little dog that by his barking alarms the family when any person is breaking into the house.
Go, the. The dash. The mode. He is quite the go, he is quite varment, he is prime, he is bang up, are synonimous expressions.
Glybe. A writing. Cant.
Go between. A pimp or bawd.
Go by the ground. A little short person, man or woman.
Go shop. The Queen’s Head in Duke’s court, Bow street, Covent Garden; frequented by the under players: where gin and water was sold in three-halfpenny bowls, called Goes; the gin was called Arrack. The go, the fashion; as, large hats are all the go.
Goads. Those who wheedle in chapmen for horse-dealers.
Goat. A lascivious person. Goats jigg; making the beast with two backs, copulation.
Gob. The mouth; also a bit or morsel: whence gobbets. Gift of the gob; wide-mouthed, or one who speaks fluently, or sings well.
Gob string. A bridle.
Gobbler. A turkey cock.
Godfather. He who pays the reckoning, or answers for the rest of thecompany: as, Will you stand godfather, and we will take care of the brat; i.e. repay you another time. Jurymen are also called godfathers, because they name the crime the prisoner before them has been guilty of, whether felony, petit larceny, &c.
Gog. All-a-gog; impatient, anxious, or desirous of a thing.
Gog and magog. Two giants, whose effigies stand on each side of the clock in Guildhall, London; of whom there is a tradition, that, when they hear the clock strike one, on the first of April, they will walk down from their places.
Goggles. Eyes: see Ogles. Goggle eyes; large prominent eyes. To goggle; to stare.
Going upon the dub. Going out to break open, or pick the locks of, houses.
Gold droppers. Sharpers who drop a piece of gold, which they pick up in the presence of some unexperienced person, for whom the trap is laid, this they pretend to have found, and, as he saw them pick it up, they invite him to a public house to partake of it: when there, two or three of their comrades drop in, as if by accident, and propose cards, or some other game, when they seldom fail of stripping their prey.
Gold finder. One whose employment is to empty necessary houses; called also a tom-turd-man, and night-man: the latter, from that business being always performed in the night.
Goldfinch. One who has commonly a purse full of gold. Goldfinches; guineas.
Golgotha or the place of sculls. Part of the Theatre at Oxford, where the heads of houses sit; those gentlemen being by the wits of the university called sculls.
Gollumpus. A large, clumsy fellow.
Goloshes, i.e. Goliah’s shoes. Large leathern clogs, worn by invalids over their ordinary shoes.
Good man. A word of various imports, according to the place where it is spoken: in the city it means a rich man; at Hockley in the Hole, or St. Giles’s, an expert boxer; at a bagnio in Covent Garden, a vigorous fornicator; at an alehouse or tavern, one who loves his pot or bottle; and sometimes, though but rarely, a virtuous man
Good woman. A nondescript, represented on a famous sign in St. Giles’s, in the form of a common woman, but without a head.
Goodyer’s pig. Like Goodyer’s pig; never well but when in mischief.
Goose. A taylor’s goose; a smoothing iron used to press down the seams, for which purpose it must be heated: hence it is a jocular saying, that a taylor, be he ever so poor, is always sure to have a goose at his fire. He cannot say boh to a goose; a saying of a bashful or sheepish fellow.
Goose riding. A goose, whose neck is greased, being suspended by the legs to a cord tied to two trees or high posts, a number of men on horseback, riding full speed, attempt to pull off the head: which if they effect, the goose is their prize. This has been practised in Derbyshire within the memory of persons now living.
Gooseberry. He played up old gooseberry among them; said of a person who, by force or threats, suddenly puts an end to a riot or disturbance.
Gooseberry-eyed. One with dull grey eyes, like boiled gooseberries.
Gooseberry wig. A large frizzled wig: perhaps from a supposed likeness to a gooseberry bush.
Goosecap. A silly fellow or woman.
Gorger. A gentleman. A well dressed man. Mung kiddey. Mung the gorger; beg child beg, of the gentleman.
Gospel shop. A church.
Goree. Money, chiefly gold: perhaps from the traffic carried on at that place, which is chiefly for gold dust. Cant.
Gormagon. A monster with six eyes, three mouths, four arms, eight legs, five on one side and three on the other, three arses, two tarses, and a *** upon its back; a man on horseback, with a woman behind him.
Gotch-gutted. Pot bellied: a gotch in Norfolk signifying a pitcher, or large round jug.
To gouge. To squeeze out a man’s eye with the thumb: a cruel practice used by the Bostonians in America.
To Grabble. To seize. To grabble the bit; to seize any one’s money. Cant.
Grafted. Cuckolded, i.e. having horns grafted on his head.
To Grab. To seize a man. The pigs grabbed the kiddey for a crack: the officers seized the youth for a burglary.
Grannam. Corn.
Grannum’s gold. Hoarded money: supposed to have belonged to the grandmother of the possessor.
Granny. An abbreviation of grandmother; also the name of an idiot, famous for licking, her eye, who died Nov. 14, 1719. Go teach your granny to suck eggs; said to such as would instruct any one in a matter he knows better than themselves.
Grapple the rails. A cant name used in Ireland for whiskey.
Grappling irons. Handcuffs.
Grave digger. Like a grave digger; up to the a-se in business, and don’t know which way to turn.
Gravy-eyed. Blear-eyed, one whose eyes have a running humour.
To grease. To bribe. To grease a man in the fist; to bribe him. To grease a fat sow in the a-se; to give to a rich man. Greasy chin; a treat given to parish officers in part of commutation for a bastard: called also, Eating a child.
Great intimate. As great as shirt and shitten a-se.
Great joseph. A surtout. Cant.
Greedy guts. A covetous or voracious person.
Greek. St. Giles’s Greek; the slang lingo, cant, or gibberish.
Green. Doctor Green; i.e. grass: a physician, or rather medicine, found very successful in curing most disorders to which horses are liable. My horse is not well, I shall send him to Doctor Green.
Green. Young, inexperienced, unacquainted; ignorant. How green the cull was not to stag how the old file planted the books. How ignorant the booby was not to perceive how the old sharper placed the cards in such a manner as to insure the game.
Green bag. An attorney: those gentlemen carry their clients’ deeds in a green bag; and, it is said, when they have no deeds to carry, frequently fill them with an old pair of breeches, or any other trumpery, to give themselves the appearance of business.
Green gown. To give a girl a green gown; to tumble her on the grass.
Green sickness. The disease of maids occasioned by celibacy.
Greenhead. An inexperienced young man.
Greenhorn. A novice on the town, an undebauched young fellow, just initiated into the society of bucks and bloods.
Greenwich barbers. Retailers of sand from the pits at and about Greenwich, in Kent: perhaps they are styled barbers, from their constant shaving the sandbanks.
Greenwich goose. A pensioner of Greenwich Hospital.
Gregorian tree. The gallows: so named from Gregory Brandon, a famous finisher of the law; to whom Sir William Segar, garter king of arms (being imposed on by Brooke, a herald), granted a coat of arms.
Grey beard. Earthen jugs formerly used in public house for drawing ale: they had the figure of a man with a large beard stamped on them; whence probably they took the name: see Ben jonson’s plays, bartholomew fair, &c. &c. Dutch earthen jugs, used for smuggling gin on the coasts of Essex and Suffolk, are at this time called grey beards.
Grey mare. The grey mare is the better horse; said of a woman who governs her husband.
Grey parson. A farmer who rents the tithes of the rector or vicar.
Grig. A farthing. A merry grig; a fellow as merry as a grig: an allusion to the apparent liveliness of a grig, or young eel.
Grim. Old Mr. Grim; death.
Grimalkin. A cat: mawkin signifies a hare in Scotland.
Grin. To grin in a glass case; to be anatomized for murder: the skeletons of many criminals are preserved in glass cases, at Surgeons’ hall.
Grinagog, the cat’s uncle. A foolish grinning fellow, one who grins without reason.
Grinders. Teeth. Gooseberry grinder; the breech. Ask bogey, the gooseberry grinder; ask mine a-se.
To grind. To have carnal knowledge of a woman.
Groats. To save his groats; to come off handsomely: at the universities, nine groats are deposited in the hands of an academic officer, by every person standing for a degree; which if the depositor obtains with honour, the groats are returned to him.
Grog. Rum and water. Grog was first introduced into the navy about the year 1740, by Admiral Vernon, to prevent the sailors intoxicating themselves with their allowance of rum, or spirits. Groggy, or groggified; drunk.
Grog-blossom. A carbuncle, or pimple in the face, caused by drinking.
Grogged. A grogged horse; a foundered horse.
Grogham. A horse. Cant.
Gropers. Blind men; also midwives.
Ground sweat. A grave.
Ground squirrel. A hog, or pig. Sea term.
Grub. Victuals. To grub; to dine.
Grub street. A street near Moorfields, formerly the supposed habitation of many persons who wrote for the booksellers: hence a Grub-street writer means a hackney author, who manufactures booss for the booksellers.
Grub street news. Lying intelligence.
To grubshite. To make foul or dirty.
Grumble. To grumble in the gizzard; to murmur or repine. He grumbled like a bear with a sore head.
Grumbletonian. A discontented person; one who is always railing at the times or ministry.
Grunter. A hog; to grunt; to groan, or complain of sickness.
Grunter’s gig. A smoaked hog’s face.
Grunting peck. Pork, bacon, or any kind of hog’s flesh.
Gruts. Tea.
Gudgeon. One easily imposed on. To gudgeon; to swallow the bait, or fall into a trap: from the fish of that name, which is easily taken.
Gull. A simple credulous fellow, easily cheated.
Gulled. Deceived, cheated, imposed on.
Gullgropers. Usurers who lend money to the gamesters.
Gum. Abusive language. Come, let us have no more of your gum.
Gummy. Clumsy: particularly applied to the ancles of men or women, and the legs of horses.
Gumption, or Rum gumption. Docility, comprehension, capacity.
Gun. He is in the gun; he is drunk: perhaps from an allusion to a vessel called a gun, used for ale in the universities.
Gundiguts. A fat, pursy fellow.
Gunner’s daughter. To kiss the gunner’s daughter; to be tied to a gun and flogged on the posteriors; a mode of punishing boys on board a ship of war.
Gunpowder. An old Woman. Cant.
Guts. My great guts are ready to eat my little ones; my guts begin to think my throat’s cut; my guts curse my teeth: all expressions signifying the party is extremely hungry.
Guts and garbage. A very fat man or woman. More guts than brains; a silly fellow. He has plenty of guts, but no bowels: said of a hard, merciless, unfeeling person.
Gutfoundered. Exceeding hungry.
Gut scraper, or Tormentor of Catgut. A fiddler.
Gutter lane. The throat, the swallow, the red lane. See Red lane.
Gutting a quart pot. Taking out the lining of it: i. e. drinking it off. Gutting an oyster; eating it. Gutting a house; clearing it of its furniture. See Poulterer.
Guy. A dark lanthorn: an allusion to Guy Faux, the principal actor in the gunpowder plot. Stow the guy: conceal the lanthorn.
Guzzle. Liquor. To guzzle; to drink greedily.
Guzzle guts. One greedy of liquor.
Gybe, or Jybe. Any writing or pass with a seal.
Gybing. Jeering or ridiculing.
Gyles, or Giles. Hopping Giles; a nick name for a lame person: St. Giles was the tutelar saint of cripples.
Gyp. A college runner or errand-boy at Cambridge, called at Oxford a scout. See Scout.
Gypsies. A set of vagrants, who, to the great disgrace of our police, are suffered to wander about the country. They pretend that they derive their origin from the ancient Egyptians, who were famous for their knowledge in astronomy and other sciences; and, under the pretence of fortune-telling, find means to rob or defraud the ignorant and superstitious. To colour their impostures, they artificially discolour their faces, and speak a kind of gibberish peculiar to themselves. They rove up and down the country in large companies, to the great terror of the farmers, from whose geese, turkeys, and fowls, they take very considerable contributions.
When a fresh recruit is admitted into the fraternity, he is to take the following oath, administered by the principal maunder, after going through the annexed forms:
First, a new name is given him by which he is ever after to be called; then standing up in the middle of the assembly, and directing his face to the dimber damber, or principal man of the gang, he repeats the following oath, which is dictated to him by some experienced member of the fraternity:
I, Crank Cuffin, do swear to be a true brother, and that I will in all things obey the commands of the great tawney prince, and keep his counsel and not divulge the secrets of my brethren.
I will never leave nor forsake the company, but observe and keep all the times of appointment, either by day or by night, in every place whatever.
I will not teach any one to cant, nor will I disclose any of our mysteries to them.
I will take my prince’s part against all that shall oppose him, or any of us, according to the utmost of my ability; nor will I suffer him, or any one belongiug to us, to be abused by any strange abrams, rufflers, hookers, pailliards, swaddlers, Irish toyles, swigmen, whip jacks, jarkmen, bawdy baskets, dommerars, clapper dogeons, patricoes, or curtals; but will defend him, or them, as much as I can, against all other outliers whatever. I will not conceal aught I win out of libkins or from the ruffmans, but will preserve it for the use of the company. Lastly, I will cleave to my doxy wap stiffly, and will bring her duds, marjery praters, goblers, grunting cheats, or tibs of the buttery, or any thing else I can come at, as winnings for her weppings.
The canters have, it seems, a tradition, that from the three first articles of this oath, the first founders of a certain boastful, worshipful fraternity (who pretend to derive their origin from the earliest times) borrowed both the hint and form of their establishment; and that their pretended derivation from the first Adam is a forgery, it being only from the first Adam Tiler: see Adam tiler. At the admission of a new brother, a general stock is raised for booze, or drink, to make themselves merry on the occasion. As for peckage or eatables, they can procure without money; for while some are sent to break the ruffmans, or woods and bushes, for firing, others are detached to filch geese, chickens, hens, ducks (or mallards), and pigs. Their morts are their butchers, who presently make bloody work with what living things are brought them; and having made holes in the ground under some remote hedge in an obscure place, they make a fire and boil or broil their food; and when it is enough, fall to work tooth and nail: and having eaten more like beasts than men, they drink more like swine than human creatures, entertaining one another all the time with songs in the canting dialect.
As they live, so they lie, together promiscuously, and know not how to claim a property either in their goods or children: and this general interest ties them more firmly together than if all their rags were twisted into ropes, to bind them indissolubly from a separation; which detestable union is farther consolidated by the above oath.
They stroll up and down all summer-time in droves, and Dexterously pick pockets, while they are telling of fortunes; and the money, rings, silver thirribles, &c. which they get, are instantly conveyed from one hand to another, till the remotest person of the gang (who is not suspected because they come not near the person robbed) gets possession of it; so that, in the strictest search, it is impossible to recover it; while the wretches with imprecations, oaths, and protestations, disclaim the thievery.
That by which they are said to get the most money, is, when young gentlewomen of good families and reputation have happened to be with child before marriage, a round sum is often bestowed among the gypsies, for some one mort to take the child; and as that is never heard of more by the true mother and family, so the disgrace is kept concealed from the world; and, if the child lives, it never knows its parents.
Haberdasher of pronouns. A schoolmaster, or usher.
Hackney writer. One who writes for attornies or booksellers.
Hackum. Captain Hackum; a bravo, a slasher.
Had’em. He has been at Had’em, and came home by Clapham; said of one who has caught the venereal disease.
Hair splitter. A man’s yard.
Halbert. A weapon carried by a serjeant of foot. To get a halbert; to be appointed a serjeant. To be brought to the halberts; to be flogged a la militaire: soldiers of the infantry, when flogged, being commonly tied to three halberts, set up in a triangle, with a fourth fastened across them. He carries the halbert in his face; a saying of one promoted from a serjeant to a commission officer.
Half a hog. Sixpence.
Half seas over. Almost drunk.
Hamlet. A high constable. Cant.
Hams, or Hamcases Breeches.
Hand. A sailor. We lost a hand; we lost a sailor. Bear a hand; make haste. Hand to fist; opposite: the same as tete-a-tete, or cheek by joul.
Hand and pocket shop. An eating house, where ready money is paid for what is called for.
Hand basket portion. A woman whose husband receives frequent presents from her father, or family, is said to have a hand-basket portion.
Handle. To know how to handle one’s fists; to be skilful in the art of boxing. The cove flashes a rare handle to his physog; the fellow has a large nose.
Handsome. He is a handsome-bodied man in the face; a jeering commendation of an ugly fellow. Handsome is that handsome does: a proverb frequently cited by ugly women.
Handsome reward. This, in advertisements, means a horse-whipping.
To Hang an arse. To hang back, to hesitate.
Hang gallows look. A thievish, or villainous appearance.
Hang in chains. A vile, desperate fellow. Persons guilty of murder, or other atrocious crimes, are frequently, after execution, hanged on a gibbet, to which they are fastened by iron bandages; the gibbet is commonly placed on or near the place where the crime was committed.
Hang it up. Score it up: speaking of a reckoning.
Hang out. The traps scavey where we hang out; the officers know where we live.
Hanger on. A dependant.
Hangman’s wages. Thirteen pence halfpenny; which, according to the vulgar tradition, was thus allotted: one shilling for the executioner, and three halfpence for the rope — N. B. This refers to former times; the hangmen of the present day having, like other artificers, raised their prices. The true state of this matter is, that a Scottish mark was the fee allowed for an execution, and the value of that piece was settled by a proclamation of James I. at thirteen pence halfpenny.
Hank. He has a hank on him; i.e. an ascendancy over him, or a hold upon him. A Smithfield hank; an ox, rendered furious by overdriving and barbarous treatment. See Bull hank.
Hanker. To hanker after any thing; to have a longing after or for it.
Hans in kelder. Jack in the cellar, i.e. the child in the womb: a health frequently drank to breeding women or their husbands.
Hard. Stale beer, nearly sour, is said to be hard. Hard also means severe: as, hard fate, a hard master.
Hard at his a-se. Close after him.
Hare. He has swallowed a hare; he is drunk; more probably a Hair, which requires washing down,
Hark-ye-ing. Whispering on one side to borrow money.
Harman. A constable. Cant.
Harman beck. A beadle. Cant.
Harmans. The stocks. Cant.
Harp. To harp upon; to dwell upon a subject. Have among you, my blind harpers; an expression used in throwing or shooting at random among the crowd. Harp is also the Irish expression for woman, or tail, used in tossing up in Ireland: from Hibernia, being represented with a harp on the reverse of the copper coins of that country; for which it is, in hoisting the copper, i.e. tossing up, sometimes likewise called music.
Harridan. A hagged old woman; a miserable, scraggy, worn-out harlot, fit to take her bawd’s degree: derived from the French word Haridelle, a worn-out jade of a horse or mare.
Harry. A country fellow. Cant. — Old Harry; the Devil.
Harum scarum. He was running harum scarum; said of any one running or walking hastily, and in a hurry, after they know not what.
Hash. To flash the hash; to vomit. Cant.
Hasty. Precipitate, passionate. He is none of the Hastings sort; a saying of a slow, loitering fellow: an allusion to the Hastings pea, which is the first in season.
Hasty pudding. Oatmeal and milk boiled to a moderate thickness, and eaten with sugar and butter. Figuratively, a wet, muddy road: as, The way through Wandsworth is quite a hasty pudding. To eat hot hasty pudding for a laced hat, or some other prize, is a common feat at wakes and fairs.
Hat. Old hat; a woman’s privities: because frequently felt.
Hatches. Under the hatches; in trouble, distress, or debt.
Hatchet face. A long thin face.
Havil. A sheep. Cant.
Havy cavy. Wavering, doubtful, shilly shally.
Hawk. Ware hawk; the word to look sharp, a bye-word when a bailiff passes. Hawk also signifies a sharper, in opposition to pigeon. See Pigeon. See Ware hawk.
Hawkers. Licensed itinerant retailers of different commodities, called also pedlars; likewise the sellers of news-papers. Hawking; an effort to spit up the thick phlegm, called Oysters: whence it is wit upon record, to ask the person so doing whether he has a licence; a punning allusion to the Act of hawkers and pedlars.
To Hazel gild. To beat any one with a hazel stick.
Head cully of the pass, or Passage bank. The top tilter of that gang throughout the whole army, who demands and receives contribution from all the pass banks in the camp.
Head rails. Teeth. Sea phrase.
Hearing cheats. Ears. Cant.
Heart’s ease. Gin.
Hearty choak. He will have a hearty choak and caper sauce for breakfast; i.e. he will be hanged.
Heathen philosopher. One whose breech may be seen through his pocket-hole: this saying arose from the old philosophers, many of whom depised the vanity of dress to such a point, as often to fall into the opposite extreme.
To heave. To rob. To heave a case; to rob a house. To heave a bough; to rob a booth. Cant.
Heaver. The breast. Cant.
Heavers. Thieves who make it their business to steal tradesmen’s shop-books. Cant.
Hector. bully, a swaggering coward. To hector; to bully, probably from such persons affecting the valour of Hector, the Trojan hero.
Hedge. To make a hedge; to secure a bet, or wager, laid on one side, by taking the odds on the other, so that, let what will happen, a certain gain is secured, or hedged in, by the person who takes this precaution; who is then said to be on velvet.
Hedge alehouse. A small obscure alehouse.
Hedge creeper. A robber of hedges.
Hedge priest. An illiterate unbeneficed curate, a patrico.
Hedge whore. An itinerant harlot, who bilks the bagnios and bawdy-houses, by disposing of her favours on the wayside, under a hedge; a low beggarly prostitute.
Heels. To he laid by the heels; to be confined, or put in prison. Out at heels; worn, or diminished: his estate or affairs are out at heels. To turn up his heels; to turn up the knave of trumps at the game of all-fours.
Heel tap. A peg in the heel of a shoe, taken out when it is finished. A person leaving any liquor in his glass, is frequently called upon by the toast-master to take off his heel-tap.
Hell. A taylor’s repository for his stolen goods, called cabbage: see Cabbage. Little hell; a small dark covered passage, leading from London-wall to Bell-alley.
Hell-born babe. A lewd graceless youth, one naturally of a wicked disposition.
Hell cat. A termagant, a vixen, a furious scolding woman. See Termagant and Vixen.
Hell hound. A wicked abandoned fellow.
Hell fire dick. The Cambridge driver of the Telegraph. The favorite companion of the University fashionables, and the only tutor to whose precepts they attend.
Helter skelter. To run helter skelter, hand over head, in defiance of order.
Hemp. Young hemp; an appellation for a graceless boy.
Hempen fever. A man who was hanged is said to have died of a hempen fever; and, in Dorsetshire, to have been stabbed with a Bridport dagger; Bridport being a place famous for manufacturing hemp into cords.
Hempen widow. One whose husband was hanged.
Hen-hearted. Cowardly.
Hen house. A house where the woman rules; called also a She house, and Hen frigate: the latter a sea phrase, originally applied to a ship, the captain of which had his wife on board, supposed to command him.
Henpecked. A husband governed by his wife, is said to be henpecked.
Hen. A woman. A cock and hen club; a club composed of men and women.
Here and thereian. One who has no settled place of residence.
Herring. The devil a barrel the better herring; all equally bad.
Herring gutted. Thin, as a shotten hering.
Herring pond. The sea. To cross the herring pond at the king’s expence; to be transported.
Hertfordshire kindness. Drinking twice to the same person.
Hick. A country hick; an ignorant clown. Cant.
Hickenbothom. Mr. Hickenbothom; a ludicrous name for an unknown person, similar to that of Mr. Thingambob. Hickenbothom, i.e. a corruption of the German word ickenbaum, i.e. oak tree.
Hickey. Tipsey; quasi, hickupping.
Hide and seek. A childish game. He plays at hide and seek; a saying of one who is in fear of being arrested for debt, or apprehended for some crime, and therefore does not chuse to appear in public, but secretly skulks up and down. See Skulk.
Hidebound. Stingy, hard of delivery; a poet poor in invention, is said to have a hidebound muse.
Higgledy piggledy. Confusedly mixed.
High eating. To eat skylarks in a garret.
High flyers. Tories, Jacobites.
High jinks. A gambler at dice, who, having a strong head, drinks to intoxicate his adversary, or pigeon.
High living. To lodge in a garret, or cockloft
High pad. A highwayman. Cant.
High ropes. To be on the high ropes; to be in a passion.
High shoon, or Clouted shoon. A country clown.
High water. It is high water, with him; he is full of money.
Highgate. Sworn at Highgate — a ridiculous custom formerly prevailed at the public-houses in Highgate, to administer a ludicrous oath to all travellers of the middling rank who stopped there. The party was sworn on a pair of horns, fastened on a stick: the substance of the oath was, never to kiss the maid when he could kiss the mistress, never to drink small beer when he could get strong, with many other injunctions of the like kind; to all which was added the saving cause of “unless you like it best.” The person administering the oath was always to be called father by the juror; and he, in return, was to style him son, under the penalty of a bottle.
Hike. To hike off; to run away. Cant.
Hind leg. To kick out a hind leg; to make a rustic bow.
Hinney, my honey. A north country hinney, particularly a Northumbrian: in that county, hinney is the general term of endearment.
History of the four kings, or Child’s best guide to the gallows. A pack of cards. He studies the history of the four kings assiduously; he plays much at cards.
Hoaxing. Bantering, ridiculing. Hoaxing a quiz; joking an odd fellow. University wit.
Hob, or Hobbinol, a clown.
Hob or nob. Will you hob or nob with me? a question formerly in fashion at polite tables, signifying a request or challenge to drink a glass of wine with the proposer: if the party challenged answered Nob, they were to chuse whether white or red. This foolish custom is said to have originated in the days of good queen Bess, thus: when great chimnies were in fashion, there was at each corner of the hearth, or grate, a small elevated projection, called the hob; and behind it a seat. In winter time the beer was placed on the hob to warm: and the cold beer was set on a small table, said to have been called the nob; so that the question, Will you have hob or nob? seems only to have meant, Will you have warm or cold beer? i.e. beer from the hob, or beer from the nob.
Hobberdehoy. Half a man and half a boy, a lad between both.
Hobbled. Impeded, interrupted, puzzled. To hobble; to walk lamely.
Hobbledygee. A pace between a walk and a run, a dog-trot.
Hobby. Sir Posthumous’s hobby; one nice or whimsical in his clothes.
Hobby horse. A man’s favourite amusement, or study, is called his hobby horse. It also means a particular kind of small Irish horse: and also a wooden one, such as is given to children.
Hobby horsical. A man who is a great keeper or rider of hobby horses; one that is apt to be strongly attached to his systems of amusement.
Hobnail. A country clodhopper: from the shoes of country farmers and ploughmen being commonly stuck full of hob-nails, and even often clouted, or tipped with iron. The Devil ran over his face with hobnails in his shoes; said of one pitted With the small pox.
Hobson’s choice. That or none; from old Hobson, a famous carrier of Cambridge, who used to let horses to the students; but never permitted them to chuse, always allotting each man the horse he thought properest for his manner of riding and treatment.
Hocks. vulgar appellation for the feet. You have left the marks of your dirty hocks on my clean stairs; a frequent complaint from a mop squeezer to a footman.
Hockey. Drunk with strong stale beer, called old hock. See Hickey.
Hocking, or Houghing. A piece of cruelty practised by the butchers of Dublin, on soldiers, by cutting the tendon of Achilles; this has been by law made felony.
Hocus pocus. Nonsensical words used by jugglers, previous to their deceptions, as a kind of charm, or incantation. A celebrated writer supposes it to be a ludicrous corruption of the words hoc est corpus, used by the popish priests in consecrating the host. Also Hell Hocus is used to express drunkenness: as, he is quite hocus; he is quite drunk.
Hod. Brother Hod; a familiar name for a bricklayer’s labourer: from the hod which is used for carrying bricks and mortar.
Hoddy doddy, all a-se and no body. A short clumsy person, either male or female.
Hodge. An abbreviation of Roger: a general name for a country booby.
Hodge podge. An irregular mixture of numerous things.
Hodmandods. Snails in their shells.
Hog. A shilling. To drive one’s hogs; to snore: the noise made by some persons in snoring, being not much unlike the notes of that animal. He has brought his hogs to a fine market; a saying of any one who has been remarkably successful in his affairs, and is spoken ironically to signify the contrary. A hog in armour; an awkward or mean looking man or woman, finely dressed, is said to look like a hog in armour. To hog a horse’s mane; to cut it short, so that the ends of the hair stick up like hog’s bristles. Jonian hogs; an appellation given to the members of St. John’s College, Cambridge.
Hog grubber. A mean stingy fellow.
Hoggish. Rude, unmannerly, filthy.
Hogo. Corruption of haut goust, high taste, or flavour; commonly said of flesh somewhat tainted. It has a confounded hogo; it stinks confoundedly.
Hoist. To go upon the hoist; to get into windows accidentally left open: this is done by the assistance of a confederate, called the hoist, who leans his head against the wall, making his back a kind of step or ascent.
Hoisting. A ludicrous ceremony formerly performed on every soldier, the first time he appeared in the field after being married; it was thus managed: As soon as the regiment, or company, had grounded their arms to rest a while, three or four men of the same company to which the bridegroom belonged, seized upon him, and putting a couple of bayonets out of the two corners of his hat, to represent horns, it was placed on his head, the back part foremost. He was then hoisted on the shoulders of two strong fellows, and carried round the arms, a drum and fife beating and playing the pioneers call, named Round Heads and Cuckolds, but on this occasion styled the Cuckold’s March; in passing the colours, he was to take off his hat: this, in some regiments, was practised by the officers on their brethren, Hoisting, among pickpockets, is, setting a man on his head, that his money, watch, &c. may fall out of his pockets; these they pick up, and hold to be no robbery. See Reversed.
Hoity-toity. A hoity-toity wench; a giddy, thoughtless, romping girl.
Holborn hill. To ride backwards up Holborn hill; to go to the gallows: the way to Tyburn, the place of execution for criminals condemned in London, was up that hill. Criminals going to suffer, always ride backwards, as some conceive to increase the ignominy, but more probably to prevent them being shocked with a distant view of the gallows; as, in amputations, surgeons conceal the instruments with which they are going to operate. The last execution at Tyburn, and consequently of this procession, was in the year 1784, since which the criminals have been executed near Newgate
Holiday. A holiday bowler; a bad bowler. Blind man’s holiday; darkness, night. A holiday is any part of a ship’s bottom, left uncovered in paying it. Sea term. It is all holiday; See All holiday.
Holy father. A butcher’s boy of St. Patrick’s Market, Dublin, or other Irish blackguard; among whom the exclamation, or oath, by the Holy Father (meaning the Pope), is common.
Holy lamb. A thorough-paced villain. Irish.
Holy water. He loves him as the Devil loves holy water, i.e. hates him mortally. Holy water, according to the Roman Catholics, having the virtue to chase away the Devil and his imps.
Hollow. It was quiet a hollow thing; i.e. a certainty, or decided business.
Honest man. A term frequently used by superiors to inferiors. As honest a man as any in the cards when all the kings are out; i.e. a knave. I dare not call thee rogue for fear of the law, said a quaker to an attorney; but I wil give thee five pounds, if thou canst find any creditable person who wilt say thou art an honest man.
Honest woman. To marry a woman with whom one has cohabitated as a mistress, is termed, making an honest woman of her.
Honey moon. The first month after marriage. A poor honey; a harmless, foolish, goodnatured fellow. It is all honey or a t — d with them; said of persons who are either in the extremity of friendship or enmity, either kissing or fighting.
Hood-winked. Blindfolded by a handkerchief, or other ligature, bound over the eyes.
Hoof. To beat the hoof; to travel on foot. He hoofed it or beat the hoof, every step of the way from Chester to London.
Hook and snivey, with nix the buffer. This rig consists in feeding a man and a dog for nothing, and is carried on thus: Three men, one of who pretends to be sick and unable to eat, go to a public house: the two well men make a bargain with the landlord for their dinner, and when he is out of sight, feed their pretended sick companion and dog gratis.
Hookee walker. An expression signifying that the story is not true, or that the thing will not occour.
Hooked. Over-reached, tricked, caught: a simile taken from fishing. **** hooks; fingers.
Hookers. See Anglers.
Hoop. To run the hoop; an ancient marine custom. Four or more boys having their left hands tied fast to an iron hoop, and each of them a rope, called a nettle, in their right, being naked to the waist, wait the signal to begin: this being made by a stroke with a cat of nine tails, given by the boatswain to one of the boys, he strikes the boy before him, and every one does the same: at first the blows are but gently administered; but each irritated by the strokes from the boy behind him, at length lays it on in earnest. This was anciently practised when a ship was wind-bound.
To hoop. To beat. I’ll well hoop his or her barrel, I’ll beat him or her soundly.
To hop the twig. To run away. Cant.
Hop merchant. A dancing master. See Caper merchant.
Hop-o-my-thumb. A diminutive person, man or woman. She was such a-hop-o-my thumb, that a pigeon, sitting on her shoulder, might pick a pea out of her a-se.
Hopkins. Mr. Hopkins; a ludicrous address to a lame or limping man, being a pun on the word hop.
Hopping giles. A jeering appellation given to any person who limps, or is lame; St. Giles was the patron of cripples, lepers, &c. Churches dedicated to that saint commonly stand out of town, many of them having been chapels to hospitals. See Gyles.
Hopper-arsed. Having large projecting buttocks: from their resemblance to a small basket, called a hopper or hoppet, worn by husbandmen for containing seed corn, when they sow the land.
Horns. To draw in one’s horns; to retract an assertion through fear: metaphor borrowed from a snail, who on the apprehension of danger, draws in his horns, and retires to his shell.
Horn colic. A temporary priapism.
Horn fair. An annual fair held at Charlton, in Kent, on St. Luke’s day, the 18th of October. It consists of a riotous mob, who after a printed summons dispersed through the adjacent towns, meet at Cuckold’s Point, near Deptford, and march from thence in procession, through that town and Greenwich, to Charlton, with horns of different kinds upon their heads; and at the fair there are sold rams horns, and every sort of toy made of horn; even the gingerbread figures have horns, The vulgar tradition gives the following history of the origin of this fair; King John, or some other of our ancient kings, being at the palace of Eltham, in this neighbourhood, and having been out a hunting one day, rambled from his company to this place, then a mean hamlet; when entering a cottage to inquire his way, he was struck with the beauty of the mistress, whom he found alone; and having prevailed over her modesty, the husband returning suddenly, surprised them together; and threatening to kill them both, the king was obliged to discover himself, and to compound for his safety by a purse of gold, and a grant of the land from this place to Cuckold’s Point, besides making the husband master of the hamlet. It is added that, in memory of this grant, and the occasion of it, this fair was established, for the sale of horns, and all sorts of goods made with that material. A sermon is preached at Charlton church on the fair day.
Horn mad. A person extremely jealous of his wife, is said to be horn mad. Also a cuckold, who does not cut or breed his horns easily.
Horn work. Cuckold-making.
Hornified. Cuckolded.
Horse buss. A kiss with a loud smack; also a bite.
Horse coser. A dealer in horses: vulgarly and corruptly pronounced Horse courser. The verb To cose was used by the Scots, in the sense of bartering or exchanging.
Horse godmother. A large masculine woman, a gentlemanlike kind of a lady.
Horse ladder. A piece of Wiltshire wit, which consists in sending some raw lad, or simpleton, to a neighbouring farm house, to borrow a horse ladder, in order to get up the horses, to finish a hay-mow.
Horse’s meal. A meal without drinking.
Hosteler, i.e. oat stealer. Hosteler was originally the name for an inn-keeper; inns being in old English styled hostels, from the French signifying the same.
Hot pot. Ale and brandy made hot.
Hot stomach. He has so hot a stomach, that he burns all the clothes off his back; said of one who pawns his clothes to purchase liquor.
House, or Tenement, to let. A widow’s weeds; also an atchievement marking the death of a husband, set up on the outside of a mansion: both supposed to indicate that the dolorous widow wants a male comforter.
Hoydon. A romping girl.
Hubble-bubble. Confusion. A hubble-bubble fellow; a man of confused ideas, or one thick of speech, whose words sound like water bubbling out of a bottle. Also an instrument used for smoaking through water in the East Indies, called likewise a caloon, and hooker.
Hubble de shuff. Confusedly. To fire hubble de shuff, to fire quick and irregularly. Old military term.
Hubbub. A noise, riot, or disturbance.
Huckle my buff. Beer, egg, and brandy, made hot.
Hucksters. Itinerant retailers of provisions. He is in hucksters hands; he is in a bad way.
To hue. To lash. The cove was hued in the naskin; the rogue was soundly lashed in bridewell. Cant.
To huff. To reprove, or scold at any one; also to bluster, bounce, ding, or swagger. A captain huff; a noted bully. To stand the huff; to be answerable for the reckoning in a public house.
Hug. To hug brown bess; to carry a firelock, or serve as a private soldier. He hugs it as the Devil hugs a witch: said of one who holds any thing as if he was afraid of losing it.
Hugger mugger. By stealth, privately, without making an appearance. They spent their money in a hugger mugger way.
Hugotontheonbiquiffinarians. A society existing in 1748.
Hulky, or Hulking. A great hulky fellow; an over-grown clumsy lout, or fellow.
Hulver-headed. Having a hard impenetrable head; hulver, in the Norfolk dialect, signifying holly, a hard and solid wood.
To hum, or Humbug. To deceive, or impose on one by some story or device. A humbug; a jocular imposition, or deception. To hum and haw; to hesitate in speech, also to delay, or be with difficulty brought to consent to any matter or business,
Hums. Persons at church. There is a great number of hums in the autem; there is a great congregation in the church.
Hum box. A pulpit.
Hum cap. Very old and strong beer, called also stingo. See Stingo.
Hum drum. A hum drum fellow; a dull tedious narrator, a bore; also a set of gentlemen, who (Bailey says) used to meet near the Charter House, or at the King’s Head in St. John’s-street, who had more of pleasantry, and less of mystery, than the free masons.
Hum durgeon. An imaginary illness. He has got the humdurgeon, the thickest part of his thigh is nearest his a-se; i.e. nothing ails him except low spirits.
Humbugs. The brethren of the venerable society of humbugs was held at brother Hallam’s, in Goodman’s Fields.
Hummer. A great lye, a rapper. See Rapper.
Humming liquor. Double ale, stout pharaoh. See Pharaoh.
Hummums. A bagnio, or bathing house.
Hum trum. A musical instrument made of a mopstick, a bladder, and some packthread, thence also called a bladder and string, and hurdy gurdy; it is played on like a violin, which is sometimes ludicrously called a humstrum; sometimes, instead of a bladder, a tin canister is used.
Hump. To hump; once a fashionable word for copulation.
Humpty dumpty. A little humpty dumpty man or woman; a short clumsy person of either sex: also ale boiled with brandy.
To hunch. To jostle, or thrust.
Hunch-backed. Hump-backed.
Hung beef. A dried bull’s pizzle. How the dubber served the cull with hung beef; how the turnkey beat the fellow with a bull’s pizzle.
Hunks. A covetous miserable fellow, a miser; also the name of a famous bear mentioned by Ben Jonson.
Hunt’s dog. He is like Hunt’s dog, will neither go to church nor stay at home. One Hunt, a labouring man at a small town in Shropshire, kept a mastiff, who on being shut up on Sundays, whilst his master went to church, howled so terribly as to disturb the whole village; wherefore his master resolved to take him to church with him: but when he came to the church door, the dog having perhaps formerly been whipped out by the sexton, refused to enter; whereupon Hunt exclaimed loudly against his dog’s obstinacy, who would neither go to church nor stay at home. This shortly became a bye-word for discontented and whimsical persons.
Hunting. Drawing in unwary persons to play or game. Cant.
Hunting the squirrel. An amusement practised by postboys and stage-coachmen, which consists in following a one-horse chaise, anddriving it before them, passing close to it, so as to brush the wheel, and by other means terrifying any woman or person that may be in it. A man whose turn comes for him to drink, before he has emptied his former glass, is said to be hunted.
Huntsup. The reveillier of huntsmen, sounded on the French horn, or other instrument.
Hurdy gurdy. A kind of fiddle, originally made perhaps out of a gourd. See Humstrum.
Hurly burly. A rout, riot, bustle or confusion.
Hush. Hush the cull; murder the fellow.
Hush money. Money given to hush up or conceal a robbery, theft, or any other offence, or to take off the evidence from appearing against a criminal.
Huskylour. A guinea, or job. Cant.
Hussy. An abbreviation of housewife, but now always used as a term of reproach; as, How now, hussy? or She is a light hussy.
Huzza. Said to have been originally the cry of the huzzars or Hungarian light horse; but now the national shout of the English, both civil and military, in the sea phrase termed a cheer; to give three cheers being to huzza thrice.
Hyp, or Hip. A mode of calling to one passing by. Hip, Michael, your head’s on fire; a piece of vulgar wit to a red haired man.
Hyp. The hypochondriac: low spirits. He is hypped; he has got the blue devils, &c.
Jabber. To talk thick and fast, as great praters usually do, to chatter like a magpye; also to speak a foreign language. He jabbered to me in his damned outlandish parlez vous, but I could not understand him; he chattered to me in French, or some other foreign language, but I could not understand him.
Jack. A farthing, a small bowl serving as the mark for bowlers. An instrument for pulling off boots.
Jack adams. A fool. Jack Adams’s parish; Clerkenwell.
Jack at a pinch. A poor hackney parson.
Jack in a box, A sharper, or cheat. A child in the mother’s womb.
Jack in an office. An insolent fellow in authority.
Jack ketch. The hangman; vide Derrick and Ketch.
Jack nasty face. A sea term, signifying a common sailor.
Jack of legs. A tall long-legged man; also a giant, said to be buried in Weston church, near Baldock, in Hertfordshire, where there are two stones fourteen feet distant, said to be the head and feet stones of his grave. This giant, says Salmon, as fame goes, lived in a wood here, and was a great robber, but a generous one; for he plundered the rich to feed the poor: he frequently took bread for this purpose from the Baldock bakers, who catching him at an advantage, put out his eyes, and afterwards hanged him upon a knoll in Baldock field. At his death he made one request, which was, that he might have his bow and arrow put into his hand, and on shooting it off, where the arrow fell, they would bury him; which being granted, the arrow fell in Weston churchyard. Above seventy years ago, a very large thigh bone was taken out of the church chest, where it had lain many years for a show, and was sold by the clerk to Sir John Tradescant, who, it is said, put it among the rarities of Oxford.
Jack pudding. The merry andrew, zany, or jester to a mountebank.
Jack Robinson. Before one could say Jack Robinson; a saying to express a very short time, originating from a very volatile gentleman of that appellation, who would call on his neighbours, and be gone before his name could be announced.
Jack sprat. A dwarf, or diminutive fellow.
Jack tar. A sailor.
Jack weight. A fat man.
Jack whore. A large masculine overgrown wench.
Jackanapes. An ape; a pert, ugly, little fellow.
Jacked. Spavined. A jacked horse.
Jackmen. See Jarkmen.
Jackey. Gin.
Jacob. A soft fellow. A fool.
Jacob. A ladder: perhaps from Jacob’s dream. Cant. Also the common name for a jay, jays being usually taught to say, Poor Jacob! a cup of sack for Jacob.
Jacobites. Sham or collar shirts. Also partizans for the Stuart family: from the name of the abdicated king, i.e. James or Jacobus. It is said by the whigs, that God changed Jacob’s name to Israel, lest the descendants of that patriarch should be called Jacobites.
Jade. A term of reproach to women.
Jague. A ditch: perhaps from jakes.
Jail birds. Prisoners.
Jakes. A house of office, a cacatorium.
Jammed. Hanged. Cant.
Janizaries. The mob, sometimes so called; also bailiffs, their setters, and followers.
Japanned. Ordained. To be japanned; to enter into holy orders, to become a clergyman, to put on the black cloth: from the colour of the japan ware, which is black.
Jark. A seal.
Jarkmen. Those, who fabricate counterfeit passes, licences, and certificates for beggars.
Jarvis. A hackney coachman.
Jason’s fleece. A citizen cheated of his gold.
Jaw. Speech, discourse. Give us none of your jaw; let us have none of your discourse. A jaw-me-dead; a talkative fellow. Jaw work; a cry used in fairs by the sellers of nuts.
Jazey. A bob wig.
Idea pot. The knowledge box, the head. See Knowledge box.
Jeffy. It will be done in a jeffy; it will be done in a short space of time, in an instant.
Jehu. To drive jehu-like; to drive furiously: from a king of Israel of that name, who was a famous charioteer, and mentioned as such in the Bible.
Jem. A gold ring. Cant.
Jemmy fellow. A smart spruce fellow.
Jemmy. A crow. This instrument is much used by housebreakers. Sometimes called Jemmy Rook.
Jenny. An instrument for lifting up the grate or top of a show-glass, in order to rob it. Cant.
Jerrycummumble. To shake, towzle, or tumble about.
Jerry sneak. A henpecked husband: from a celebrated character in one of Mr. Foote’s plays, representing a man governed by his wife.
Jessamy. A smart jemmy fellow, a fopling.
Jesiut. See To box the jesuit.
Jesuitical. Sly, evasive, equivocal. A jesuitical answer; an equivocal answer.
Jet. A lawyer. Autem jet; a parson.
Jew. An over-reaching dealer, or hard, sharp fellow; an extortioner: the brokers formerly behind St. Clement’s church in the Strand were called Jews by their brethren the taylors.
Jew. A tradesman who has no faith, i.e. will not give credit.
Jew bail. Insufficient bail: commonly Jews, who for a sum of money will bail any action whatsoever, and justify, that is, swear to their sufficiency; but, when called on, are not to be found.
Jew’s eye. That’s worth a Jew’s eye; a pleasant or agreeable sight: a saying taken from Shakespeare.
Jibber the kibber. A method of deceiving seamen, by fixing a candle and lanthorn round the neck of a horse, one of whose fore feet is tied up; this at night has the appearance of a ship’s light. Ships bearing towards it, run on shore, and being wrecked, are plundered by the inhabitants. This diabolical device is, it is said, practised by the inhabitants of our western coasts.
Jig. A trick. A pleasant jig; a witty arch trick. Also a lock or door. The feather-bed jig; copulation.
Jigger. A whipping-post. Cant.
Jilt. A tricking woman, who encourages the addresses of a man whom she means to deceive and abandon.
Jilted. Rejected by a woman who has encouraged one’s advances.
Jingle boxes. Leathern jacks tipped with silver, and hung with bells, formerly in use among fuddle caps. Cant.
Jingle brains. A wild, thoughtless, rattling fellow.
Jinglers. Horse cosers, frequenting country fairs.
Impost takers. Usurers who attend the gaming-tables, and lend money at great premiums.
Impudent stealing. Cutting out the backs of coaches, and robbing the seats.
Impure. A modern term for a lady of easy virtue.
Inching. Encroaching.
Indies. Black Indies; Newcastle.
India wipe. A silk handkerchief.
Indorser. A sodomite. To indorse with a cudgel; to drub or beat a man over the back with a stick, to lay Cane upon Abel.
Inexpressibles. Breeches.
Inkle weavers. Supposed to be a very brotherly set of people; ‘as great as two inkle weavers’ being a proverbial saying.
Inlaid. Well inlaid; in easy circumstances, rich or well to pass.
Innocents. One of the innocents; a weak or simple person, man or woman.
Inside and outside. The inside of a **** and the outside of a gaol.
Job. A guinea.
Job’s comfort. Reproof instead of consolation.
Job’s comforter. One who brings news of some additional misfortune.
Job’s dock. He is laid up in Job’s dock; i.e. in a salivation. The apartments for the foul or venereal patients in St. Bartholomew’s hospital, are called Job’s ward.
Jobation. A reproof.
To job. To reprove or reprehend. Cambridge term.
Job. Any robbery. To do a job; to commit some kind of robbery.
Jock, or Crowdy-headed jock. A jeering appellation for a north country seaman, particularly a collier; Jock being a common name, and crowdy the chief food, of the lower order of the people in Northumberland.
To jock, or Jockum cloy. To enjoy a woman.
Jockum gage. A chamber-pot, jordan, looking-glass, or member-mug. Cant.
Jogg-trot. To keep on a jogg-trot; to get on with a slow but regular pace.
Johnny bum. A he or jack ass: so called by a lady that affected to be extremely polite and modest, who would not say Jack because it was vulgar, nor ass because it was indecent.
Joint. To hit a joint in carving, the operator must think of a cuckold. To put one’s nose out of joint; to rival one in the favour of a patron or mistress.
Jolly, or Jolly nob. The head. I’ll lump your jolly nob for you; I’ll give you a knock on the head.
Jolly dog. A merry facetious fellow; a Bon vivant, who never flinches from his glass, nor cries to go home to bed.
Jolter head. A large head; metaphorically a stupid fellow.
Jordain. A great blow, or staff. I’ll tip him a jordain if I transnear; i.e. I’ll give him a blow with my staff, if I come near him. Cant.
Jordan. A chamber-pot.
Jorum. A jugg, or large pitcher.
Joseph. A woman’s great coat. Also, a sheepish bashful young fellow: an allusion to Joseph who fled from Potiphar’s wife. You are Josephus rex; you are jo-king, i. e. joking.
Joskin. A countryman. The dropcove maced the Joskin of twenty quid; The ring dropper cheated the countryman of twenty guineas.
Jowl. The cheek. Cheek by jowl; close together, or cheek to cheek. My eyes how the cull sucked the blowen’s jowl; he kissed the wench handsomely.
Irish apricots. Potatoes. It is a common joke against the Irish vessels, to say they are loaded with fruit and timber, that is, potatoes and broomsticks.
Irish assurance. A bold forward behaviour: as being dipt in the river Styx was formerly supposed to render persons invulnerable, so it is said that a dipping in the river Shannon totally annihilates bashfulness; whence arises the saying of an impudent Irishman, that he has been dipt in the Shannon.
Irish beauty. A woman with two black eyes.
Irish evidence. A false witness.
Irish legs. Thick legs, jocularly styled the Irish arms. It is said of the Irish women, that they have a dispensation from the pope to wear the thick end of their legs downwards.
Irish toyles. Thieves who carry about pins, laces, and other pedlars wares, and under the pretence of offering their goods to sale, rob houses, or pilfer any thing they can lay hold of.
Iron. Money in general. To polish the king’s iron with one’s eyebrows; to look out of grated or prison windows, or, as the Irishman expresses them, the iron glass windows. Iron doublet; a prison. See Stone doublet.
Ironmonger’s shop. To keep an ironmonger’s shop by the side of a common, where the sheriff sets one up; to be hanged in chains. Iron-bound; laced. An iron-bound hat; a silver-laced hat.
Island. He drank out of the bottle till he saw the island; the island is the rising bottom of a wine bottle, which appears like an island in the centre, before the bottle is quite empty.
Ivories. Teeth. How the swell flashed his ivories; how the gentleman shewed his teeth.
Itchland, or Scratchland. Scotland.
Juggler’s box. The engine for burning culprits in the hand. Cant.
Jukrum. A licence.
Jumblegut lane. A rough road or lane.
Jump. The jump, or dining-room jump; a species of robbery effected by ascending a ladder placed by a sham lamp-lighter, against the house intended to be robbed. It is so called, because, should the lamp-lighter be put to flight, the thief who ascended the ladder has no means of escaping but that of jumping down.
Jumpers. Persons who rob houses by getting in at the windows. Also a set of Methodists established in South Wales.
Juniper lecture. A round scolding bout.
Jury leg. A wooden leg: allusion to a jury mast, which is a temporary substitute for a mast carried away by a storm, or any other accident. Sea phrase.
Jury mast. a journiere mast; i.e. a mast for the day or occasion.
Just-ass. A punning appellation for a justice.
Ivy bush. Like an owl in an ivy bush; a simile for a meagre or weasel-faced man, with a large wig, or very bushy hair.
Kate. A picklock. ’Tis a rum kate; it is a clever picklock. Cant.
Keel bullies. Men employed to load and unload the coal vessels.
Keelhauling. A punishment in use among the Dutch seamen, in which, for certain offences, the delinquent is drawn once, or oftener, under the ship’s keel: ludicrously defined, undergoing a great hard-ship.
To keep. To inhabit. Lord, where do you keep? i.e. where are your rooms? Academical phrase. Mother, your tit won’t keep; your daughter will not preserve her virginity.
To keep it up. To prolong a debauch. We kept it up finely last night; metaphor drawn from the game of shuttle-cock.
Keeping cully. One who keeps a mistress, as he supposes, for his own use, but really for that of the public.
Keffel. A horse. Welsh.
Kelter. Condition, order. Out of kelter; out of order.
Kelter. Money.
Kemp’s morris. William Kemp, said to have been the original Dogberry in Much ado about Nothing, danced a morris from London to Norwich in nine days: of which he printed the account, A. D. 1600, intitled, Kemp’s Nine Days Wonder, &c.
Kemp’s shoes. Would I had Kemp’s shoes to throw after you. Ben jonson. Perhaps Kemp was a man remarkable for his good luck or fortune; throwing an old shoe, or shoes, after any one going on an important business, being by the vulgar deemed lucky.
Ken. A house. A bob ken, or a bowman ken; a well-furnished house, also a house that harbours thieves. Biting the ken; robbing the house. Cant.
Ken miller, or Ken cracker. A housebreaker. Cant.
Kent-street ejectment. To take away the street door: a method practised by the landlords in Kent-street, Southwark, when their tenants are above a fortnight’s rent in arrear.
Kerry security. Bond, pledge, oath, and keep the money.
Ketch. Jack Ketch; a general name for the finishers of the law, or hangmen, ever since the year 1682, when the office was filled by a famous practitioner of that name, of whom his wife said, that any bungler might put a man to death, but only her husband knew how to make a gentleman die sweetly. This officer is mentioned in Butler’s Ghost, page 54, published about the year 1682, in the following lines:
Till Ketch observing he was chous’d,
And in his profits much abus’d.
In open hall the tribute dunn’d,
To do his office, or refund.
Mr. Ketch had not long been elevated to his office, for the name of his predecessor Dun occurs in the former part of this poem, page 29:
For you yourself to act squire Dun,
Such ignominy ne’er saw the sun.
The addition of ‘squire,’ with which Mr. Dun is here dignified, is a mark that he had beheaded some state criminal for high treason; an operation which, according to custom for time out of mind, has always entitled the operator to that distinction. The predecessor of Dun was Gregory Brandon, from whom the gallows was called the Gregorian tree, by which name it is mentioned in the prologue to Mercurius Pragmaticus, tragi-comedy acted at Paris, &c. 1641:
This trembles under the black rod, and he
Doth fear his fate from the Gregorian tree.
Gregory Brandon succeeded Derrick. See Derrick.
Kettledrums. Cupid’s kettle drums; a woman’s breasts, called by sailors chest and bedding.
Kettle of fish. When a person has perplexed his affairs in general, or any particular business, he is said to have made a fine kettle of fish of it.
Kicks. Breeches. A high kick; the top of the fashion. It is all the kick; it is the present mode. Tip us your kicks, we’ll have them as well as your lour; pull off your breeches, for we must have them as well as your money. A kick; sixpence. Two and a kick; half-a-crown. A kick in the guts; a dram of gin, or any other spirituous liquor. A kick up; a disturbance, also a hop or dance. An odd kick in one’s gallop; a strange whim or peculiarity.
To Kick the bucket. To die. He kicked the bucket one day: he died one day. To kick the clouds before the hotel door; i.e. to be hanged.
Kickerapoo. Dead. Negro word.
Kickseys. Breeches.
Kickshaws. French dishes: corruption of quelque chose.
Kid. A little dapper fellow. A child. The blowen has napped the kid. The girl is with child.
To kid. To coax or wheedle. To inveigle. To amuse a man or divert his attention while another robs him. The sneaksman kidded the cove of the ken, while his pall frisked the panney; the thief amused the master of the house, while his companion robbed the house.
Kid lay. Rogues who make it their business to defraud young apprentices, or errand-boys, of goods committed to their charge, by prevailing on them to execute some trifling message, pretending to take care of their parcels till they come back; these are, in cant terms, said to be on the kid lay.
Kidder. A forestaller: see Crocker. Kidders are also persons employed by the gardeners to gather peas.
Kiddeys. Young thieves.
Kiddy nippers. Taylors out of work, who cut off the waistcoat pockets of their brethren, when cross-legged on their board, thereby grabbling their bit. Cant.
Kidnapper. Originally one who stole or decoyed children or apprentices from their parents or masters, to send them to the colonies; called also spiriting: but now used for all recruiting crimps for the king’s troops, or those of the East India company, and agents for indenting servants for the plantations, &c.
Kidney. Disposition, principles, humour. Of a strange kidney; of an odd or unaccountable humour. A man of a different kidney; a man of different principles.
Kilkenny. An old frize coat.
Kill care club. The members of this club, styled also the Sons of Sound Sense and Satisfaction, met at their fortress, the Castle-tavern, in Paternoster-row.
Kill devil. New still-burnt rum.
Kill priest. Port wine.
To Kimbaw. To trick, cheat or cozen; also to beat or to bully. Let’s kimbaw the cull; let’s bully the fellow. To set one’s arms a-kimbaw, vulgarly pronounced a-kimbo, is to rest one’s hands on the hips, keeping the elbows square, and sticking out from the body; an insolent bullying attitude. Cant.
Kinchin. A little child. Kinchin coes; orphan beggar boys, educated in thieving. Kinchin morts; young girls under the like circumstances and training. Kinchin morts, or coes in slates; beggars’ children carried at their mother’s backs in sheets. Kinchin cove; a little man. Cant.
King’s plate. Fetters.
King’s wood lion. An Ass. Kingswood is famous for the great number of asses kept by the colliers who inhabit that place.
King’s bad bargain. One of the king’s bad bargains; a malingeror, or soldier who shirks his duty.
King’s head inn, or Chequer inn, in newgate street. The prison of Newgate.
King john’s men. He is one of king John’s men, eight score to the hundred: a saying of a little undersized man.
King of the gypsies. The captain, chief, or ringleader of the gang of misrule: in the cant language called also the upright man.
King’s pictures. Coin, money.
Kingdom come. He is gone to kingdom come, he is dead.
Kip. The skin of a large calf, in the language of the Excise-office.
Kiss mine a-se. An offer, as Fielding observes, very frequently made, but never, as he could learn, literally accepted. A kiss mine a-se fellow; a sycophant.
Kissing crust. That part where the loaves have touched the oven.
Kit. A dancing-master, so called from his kit or cittern, a small fiddle, which dancing-masters always carry about with them, to play to their scholars. The kit is likewise the whole of a soldier’s necessaries, the contents of his knapsack: and is used also to express the whole of different commodities: as, Here, take the whole kit; i.e. take all.
Kit-cat club. A society of gentlemen, eminent for wit and learning, who in the reign of queen Anne and George I. met at a house kept by one Christopher Cat. The portraits of most of the members of this society were painted by Sir Godfrey Kneller, of one size; thence still called the kit-cat size.
Kitchen physic. Food, good meat roasted or boiled. A little kitchen physic will set him up; he has more need of a cook than a doctor.
Kittle pitchering. A jocular method of hobbling or bothering a troublesome teller of long stories: this is done by contradicting some very immaterial circumstance at the beginning of the narration, the objections to which being settled, others are immediately started to some new particular of like consequence; thus impeding, or rather not suffering him to enter into, the main story. Kittle pitchering is often practised in confederacy, one relieving the other, by which the design is rendered less obvious.
Kittys. Effects, furniture; stock in trade. To seize one’s kittys; to take his sticks.
Knack shop. A toy-shop, a nick-nack-atory.
Knappers poll. A sheep’s head. Cant.
Knave in grain. A knave of the first rate: a phrase borrowed from the dyehouse, where certain colours are said to be in grain, to denote their superiority, as being dyed with cochineal, called grain. Knave in grain is likewise a pun applied to a cornfactor or miller.
Knight of the blade. A bully.
Knight of the post. A false evidence, one that is ready to swear any thing for hire.
Knight of the rainbow. A footman: from the variety of colours in the liveries and trimming of gentlemen of that cloth.
Knight of the road. A highwayman.
Knight of the sheers. A taylor.
Knight of the thimble, or Needle. A taylor or stay-maker.
Knight of the whip. A coachman.
Knight of the trencher. A great eater.
Knight and barrow pig, more hog than gentleman. A saying of any low pretender to precedency.
Knob. The head. See Nob.
Knock. To knock a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her. To knock off; to conclude: phrase borrowed from the blacksmith. To knock under; to submit.
Knock me down. Strong ale or beer, stingo.
Knot. A crew, gang, or fraternity. He has tied a knot with his tongue, that he cannot untie with his teeth: i.e. he is married.
Knowing ones. Sportsmen on the turf, who from experience and an acquaintance with the jockies, are supposed to be in the secret, that is, to know the true merits or powers of each horse; notwithstanding which it often happens that the knowing ones are taken in.
Knowledge box. The head.
Knuckles. Pickpockets who attend the avenues to public places to steal pocket-books, watches, &c. a superior kind of pickpockets. To knuckle to, to submit.
To knuckle one’s wipe. To steal his handkerchief.
Knuckle-dabs, or Knuckle-confounders. Ruffles.
Konoblin rig. Stealing large pieces of coal from coalsheds.
Laced mutton. A prostitute.
Lacing. Beating. I’ll lace your jacket handsomely.
Ladder. To go up the ladder to rest; to be hanged.
Lady. A crooked or hump-backed woman.
Lady of easy virtue. A woman of the town, an impure, a prostitute.
Ladybirds. Light or lewd women.
Lady dacre’s wine. Gin.
Lag. A man transported. The cove was lagged for a drag. The man was transported for stealing something out of a waggon.
Lag fever. A term of ridicule applied to men who being under sentence of transportation, pretend illness, to avoid being sent from gaol to the hulks.
To lag. To drop behind, to keep back. Lag last; the last of a company.
Lage. Water. Cant.
Lage of duds. A buck of linen.
Laid on the shelf, or Laid up in lavender. Pawned.
To Lamb, or Lambaste. To beat. Lamb pye; a beating: from lambo.
Lamb’s wool. Apples roasted and put into strong ale.
Lambskin men. The judges: from their robes lined and bordered with ermine.
Lamp. An eye. The cove has a queer lamp. The man has a blind or squinting eye.
Land. How lies the land? How stands the reckoning? Who has any land in Appleby? a question asked the man at whose door the glass stands long, or who does not ciculate it in due time.
Land lopers, or Land lubbers. Vagabonds lurking about the country who subsist by pilfering.
Land pirates. Highwaymen.
Lank sleeve. The empty sleeve of a one armed man. A fellow with a lank sleeve; a man who has lost an arm.
Lansprisado. One who has only two-pence in his pocket. Also a lance, or deputy corporal; that is, one doing the duty without the pay of a corporal. Formerly a lancier, or horseman, who being dismounted by the death of his horse, served in the foot, by the title of lansprisado, or lancepesato, a broken lance.
Lanthorn-jawed. Thin-visaged: from their cheeksbeing almost transparent. Or else, lenten jawed; i.e. having the jaws of one emaciated by a too rigid observation of Lent. Dark lanthorn; a servant or agent at court, who receives a bribe for his principal or master.
Lap. Butter-milk or whey. Cant.
Lark. A boat.
Lark. A piece of merriment. People playing together jocosely.
Larry dugan’s eye water. Blacking: Larry Dugan was a famous shoe-black at Dublin.
Latch. Let in.
Lathy. Thin, slender. A lathy wench; a girl almost as slender as a lath.
Latitat. A nick-name for an attorney; from the name of a writ.
Lavender. Laid up in lavender; pawned.
Laugh. To laugh on the wrong side of the mouth; to cry. I’ll make him laugh on the wrong (or t’other) side of his mouth.
Launch. The delivery, or labour, of a pregnant woman; a crying out or groaning.
Law. To give law to a hare; a sporting term, signifying to give the animal a chance of escaping, by not setting on the dogs till the hare is at some distance; it is also more figuratively used for giving any one a chance of succeeding in a scheme or project.
Lawful blanket. A wife.
Lay. Enterprize, pursuit, or attempt: to be sick of the lay. It also means a hazard or chance: he stands a queer lay; i.e. he is in danger. Cant.
Laystall. A dunghill about London, on which the soil brought from necessary houses is emptied; or, in more technical terms, where the old gold collected at weddings by the Tom t — d man, is stored.
Lazy. As lazy as Ludman’s dog, who leaned against the wall to bark. As lazy as the tinker, who laid down his budget to f — t.
Lazy man’s load. Lazy people frequently take up more than they can safely carry, to save the trouble of coming a second time.
Lazybones. An instrument like a pair of tongs, for old or very fat people to take any thing from the ground without stooping.
Leaf. To go off with the fall of the leaf; to be hanged: criminals in Dublin being turned off from the outside of the prison by the falling of a board, propped up, and moving on a hinge, like the leaf of a table. Irish term.
To leak. To make water.
Leaky. Apt to blab; one who cannot keep a secret is said to be leaky.
Leaping over the sword. An ancient ceremonial said to constitute a military marriage. A sword being laid down on the ground, the parties to be married joined hands, when the corporal or serjeant of the company repeated these words:
Leap rogue, and jump whore,
And then you are married for evermore.
Whereupon the happy couple jumped hand in hand over the sword, the drum beating a ruffle; and the parties were ever after considered as man and wife.
Least in sight. To play least in sight; to hide, keep out of the way, or make one’s self scarce.
Leather. To lose leather; to be galled with riding on horseback, or, as the Scotch express it, to be saddle sick. To leather also meant to beat, perhaps originally with a strap: I’ll leather you to your heart’s content. Leather-headed; stupid. Leathern conveniency; term used by quakers for a stage-coach.
Leery. On one’s guard. See Peery.
Left-handed wife. A concubine; an allusion to an ancient German custom, according to which, when a man married his concubine, or a woman greatly his inferior, he gave her his left hand.
Leg. To make a leg; to bow. To give leg-bail and land security; to run away. To fight at the leg; to take unfair advantages: it being held unfair by back-sword players to strike at the leg. To break a leg; a woman who has had a bastard, is said to have broken a leg.
Leggers. Sham leggers; cheats who pretend to sell smuggled goods, but in reality only deal in old shop-keepers or damaged goods.
Lenten fare. Spare diet.
Letch. A whim of the amorous kind, out of the common way.
Levite. A priest or parson.
To lib. To lie together. Cant.
Libbege. A bed. Cant.
Libben. A private dwelling-house. Cant.
Libken. A house to lie in. Cant.
To lick. To beat; also to wash, or to paint slightly over. I’ll give you a good lick o’ the chops; I’ll give you a good stroke or blow on the face. Jack tumbled into a cow t — d, and nastied his best clothes, for which his father stept up, and licked him neatly. — I’ll lick you! the dovetail to which is, If you lick me all over, you won’t miss —.
Lickspittle. A parasite, or talebearer.
Lift. To give one a lift; to assist. A good hand at a dead lift; a good hand upon an emergency. To lift one’s hand to one’s head; to drink to excess, or to drink drams. To lift or raise one’s elbow; the same.
Lift. See Shoplifter, &c.
Lig. A bed. See Lib.
Light bob. A soldier of the light infantry company.
Light-fingered. Thievish, apt to pilfer.
Light-heeled. Swift in running. A light-heeled wench; one who is apt, by the flying up of her heels, to fall flat on her back, a willing wench.
Light house. A man with a red fiery nose.
Light troops. Lice; the light troops are in full march; the lice are crawling about.
Lightmans. The day. Cant.
Lightning. Gin. A flash of lightning; a glass of gin.
Likeness. A phrase used by thieves when the officers or turnkeys are examining their countenance. As the traps are taking our likeness; the officers are attentively observing us.
Liliputian. A diminutive man or woman: from Gulliver’s Travels, written by Dean Swift, where an imaginary kingdom of dwarfs of that name is described.
Lily white. A chimney-sweeper.
Lily shallow. (Whip slang) A white driving hat.
Limbs. Duke of limbs; a tall awkward fellow.
Limb of the law. An inferior or pettyfogging attorney.
Limbo. A prison, confinement.
To Line. A term for the act of coition between dog and bitch.
Line of the old author. A dram of brandy.
Line. To get a man into a line, i.e. to divert his attention by a ridiculous or absurd story. To humbug.
Lingo. Language. An outlandish lingo; a foreign tongue. The parlezvous lingo; the French language.
Linen armourers. Taylors.
Lion. To tip the lion; to squeeze the nose of the party tipped, flat to his face with the thumb. To shew the lions and tombs; to point out the particular curiosities of any place, to act the ciceroni: an allusion to Westminster Abbey, and the Tower, where the tombs and lions are shewn. A lion is also a name given by the gownsmen of Oxford to an inhabitant or visitor. It is a standing joke among the city wits to send boys and country folks, on the first of April, to the Tower-ditch, to see the lions washed.
Liquor. To liquor one’s boots; to drink before a journey: among Roman Catholics, to administer the extreme unction.
Little barbary. Wapping.
Little breeches. A familiar appellation used to a little boy.
Little clergyman. A young chimney-sweeper.
Little ease. A small dark cell in Guildhall, London, where disorderly apprentices are confined by the city chamberlain: it is called Little Ease from its being so low that a lad cannot stand upright in it.
Little snakesman. A little boy who gets into a house through the sink-hole, and then opens the door for his accomplices: he is so called, from writhing and twisting like a snake, in order to work himself through the narrow passage.
Live lumber. A term used by sailors, to signify all landsmen on board their ships.
Live stock. Lice or fleas.
Loaf. To be in bad loaf, to be in a disagreeable situation, or in trouble.
Lob. A till in a tradesman’s shop. To frisk a lob; to rob a till. See Flash panney.
Lob. Going on the lob; going into a shop to get change for gold, and secreting some of the change.
Lob’s pound. A prison. Dr. Grey, in his notes on Hudibras, explains it to allude to one Doctor Lob, a dissenting preacher, who used to hold forth when conventicles were prohibited, and had made himself a retreat by means of a trap door at the bottom of his pulpit. Once being pursued by the officers of justice, they followed him through divers subterraneous passages, till they got into a dark cell, from whence they could not find their way out, but calling to some of their companions, swore they had got into Lob’s Pound.
Lobcock. A large relaxed penis: also a dull inanimate fellow.
Lobkin. A house to lie in: also a lodging.
Loblolley boy. A nick name for the surgeon’s servant on board a man of war, sometimes for the surgeon himself: from the water gruel prescribed to the sick, which is called loblolley.
Lobonian society. A society which met at Lob Hall, at the King and Queen, Norton Falgate, by order of Lob the great.
Lobscouse. A dish much eaten at sea, composed of salt beef, biscuit and onions, well peppered, and stewed together.
Lobster. A nick name for a soldier, from the colour of his clothes. To boil one’s lobster, for a churchman to become a soldier: lobsters, which are of a bluish black, being made red by boiling. I will not make a lobster kettle of my ****, a reply frequently made by the nymphs of the Point at Portsmouth, when requested by a soldier to grant him a favour.
Lock. A scheme, a mode. I must fight that lock; I must try that scheme.
Lock. Character. He stood a queer lock; he bore but an indifferent character. A lock is also a buyer of stolen goods, as well as the receptacle for them.
Lock hospital. An hospital for venereal patients.
Lock up house. A spunging house; a public house kept by sheriff’s officers, to which they convey the persons they have arrested, where they practise every species of imposition and extortion with impunity. Also houses kept by agents or crimps, who enlist, or rather trepan, men to serve the East India or African company as soldiers.
Lockeram-jawed. Thin-faced, or lanthorn-jawed. See Lanthorn jawed.
Locksmith’s daughter. A key.
Loggerhead. A blockhead, or stupid fellow. We three loggerheads be: a sentence frequently written under two heads, and the reader by repeating it makes himself the third. A loggerhead is also a double-headed, or bar shot of iron. To go to loggerheads; to fall to fighting.
Loll. Mother’s loll; a favourite child, the mother’s darling,
Loll tongue. He has been playing a game at loll tongue; he has been salivated.
Lollipops. Sweet lozenges purchased by children.
To lollop. To lean with one’s elbows on a table.
Lollpoop. A lazy, idle drone.
Lombard fever. Sick of the lombard fever; i.e. of the idles.
Long one. A hare; a term used by poachers.
Long. Great. A long price; a great price.
Long gallery. Throwing, or rather trundling, the dice the whole length of the board.
Long meg. A jeering name for a very tall woman: from one famous in story, called Long Meg of Westminster.
Long shanks. A long-legged person.
Long stomach. A voracious appetite.
Long tongued. Loquacious, not able to keep a secret. He is as long-tongued as Granny: Granny was an idiot who could lick her own eye. See Granny.
Long-winded. A long-winded parson; one who preached long, tedious sermons. A long-winded paymaster; one who takes long credit.
Loo. For the good of the loo; for the benefit of the company or community.
Looby. An awkward, ignorant fellow.
Looking as if one could not help it. Looking like a simpleton, or as if one could not say boh! to a goose.
Looking-glass. A chamber pot, jordan, or member mug.
Loon, or Lout. A country bumkin, or clown.
Loonslate. Thirteen pence halfpenny.
Loophole. An opening, or means of escape. To find a loophole in an act of parliament; i.e. a method of evading it,
Lop-sided. Uneven, having one side larger or heavier than the other: boys’ paper kites are often said to be lop-sided.
To lope. To leap, to run away. He loped down the dancers; he ran down stairs.
Lord. A crooked or hump-backed man. These unhappy people afford great scope for vulgar raillery; such as, ‘Did you come straight from home? if so, you have got confoundedly bent by the way.’ ‘Don’t abuse the gemman,’ adds a by-stander, ‘he has been grossly insulted already; don’t you see his back’s up?’ Or someone asks him if the show is behind; ‘because I see,’ adds he, ‘you have the drum at your back.’ Another piece of vulgar wit is let loose on a deformed person: If met by a party of soldiers on their march, one of them observes that that gentleman is on his march too, for he has got his knapsack at his back. It is said in the British Apollo, that the title of lord was first given to deformed persons in the reign of Richard Iii. from several persons labouring under that misfortune being created peers by him; but it is more probably derived from the Greek word [Greek: lordos], crooked.
Louse. A gentleman’s companion. He will never louse a grey head of his own; he will never live to be old.
Love begotten child. A bastard.
Lounge. A loitering place, or gossiping shop.
Louse bag. A black bag worn to the hair or wig.
Louse house. The round house, cage, or any other place of confinement.
Louse ladder. A stitch fallen in a stocking.
Louse land. Scotland.
Louse trap. A small toothed comb.
Lout. A clumsy stupid fellow.
Lowing rig. Stealing oxen or cows.
Low pad. A footpad.
Low tide, or Low water. When there is no money in a man’s pocket.
Lowre. Money. Cant.
Lubber. An awkward fellow: a name given by sailors to landsmen.
Luck, or Good luck. To tread in a surreverence, to be bewrayed: an allusion to the proverb, Sh-tt-n luck is good luck.
Lud’s bulwark. Ludgate prison.
Lugs. Ears or wattles. See Wattles.
Lullaby cheat. An infant. Cant.
Lullies. Wet linen. Cant.
Lully triggers. Thieves who steal wet linen. Cant.
Lumb. Too much.
Lumber. Live lumber; soldiers or passengers on board a ship are so called by the sailors.
Lumber troop. A club or society of citizens of London.
Lumber house. A house appropriated by thieves for the reception of their stolen property.
To Lump. To beat; also to include a number of articles under one head.
To Lump the lighter. To be transported.
Lumpers. Persons who contract to unload ships; also thieves who lurk about wharfs to pilfer goods from ships, lighters, &c.
Lumping. Great. A lumping penny worth; a great quantity for the money, a bargain. He has’got a lumping penny-worth; frequently said of a man who marries a fat woman.
Lun. Harlequin.
Lurch. To be left in the lurch; to be abandoned by one’s confederates or party, to be left in a scrape.
Lurched. Those who lose a game of whist, without scoring five, are said to be lurched.
Lurcher. A lurcher of the law; a bum bailiff, or his setter.
Lurries. Money, watches, rings, or other moveablcs.
Lush. Strong beer.
To lush. To drink.
Lushey. Drunk. The rolling kiddeys hud a spree, and got bloody lushey; the dashing lads went on a party of pleasure, and got very drunk.
Lye. Chamber lye; urine.
Maccaroni. An Italian paste made of flour and eggs. Also a fop: which name arose from a club, called the Maccaroni Club, instituted by some of the most dressy travelled gentlemen about town, who led the fashions; whence a man foppishly dressed, was supposed a member of that club, and by contraction styled a Maccaroni.
Mace cove. A swindler, a sharper, a cheat. On the mace; to live by swindling.
Machines. Mrs. Phillips’s ware. See Cundum.
Mackerel. A bawd: from the French maquerel. Mackerel-backed; long-backed.
Mad tom, or Tom of bedlam, otherwise an Abram Man. A rogue that counterfeits madness. Cant.
Madam. A kept madam; a kept mistress.
Madam ran. A whore. Cant.
Made. Stolen. Cant.
Madge. The private parts of a woman.
Madge culls. Sodomites. Cant.
Magnum bonum. A bottle containing two quarts of wine. See Scotch pint.
Mahometan gruel. Coffee: because formerly used chiefly by the Turks.
Maiden sessions. A sessions where none of the prisoners are capitally convicted.
Make. A halfpenny. Cant.
Make weight. A small candle: a term applied to a little slender man.
Malingeror. A military term for one who, under pretence of sickness, evades his duty.
Malkin, or Maulkin. A general name for a cat; also a parcel of rags fastened to the end of a stick, to clean an oven; also a figure set up in a garden to scare the birds; likewise an awkward woman. The cove’s so scaly, he’d spice a malkin of his jazey: the fellow is so mean, that he would rob a scare-crow of his old wig.
Malkintrash. One in a dismal garb.
Malmsey nose. A red pimpled snout, rich in carbuncles and rubies.
Man of the town. A rake, a debauchee.
Man of the turf. A horse racer, or jockey.
Manoeuvring the apostles. Robbing Peter to pay Paul, i.e. borrowing of one man to pay another.
Man trap. A woman’s commodity.
Man of the world. A knowing man.
Man, (Cambridge.) Any undergraduate from fifteen to thirty. As a man of Emanuel — a young member of Emanuel.
Manufacture. Liquors prepared from materials of English growth.
Mare’s nest. He has found a mare’s nest, and is laughing at the eggs; said of one who laughs without any apparent cause.
Margery prater. A hen. Cant.
Marine officer. An empty bottle: marine officers being held useless by the seamen. Sea wit.
Marplot. A spoil sport.
Marriage music. The squalling and crying of children.
Married. Persons chained or handcuffed together, in order to be conveyed to gaol, or on board the lighters for transportation, are in the cant language said to be married together.
Marrowbones. The knees. To bring any one down on his marrow bones; to make him beg pardon on his knees: some derive this from Mary’s bones, i.e. the bones bent in honour of the Virgin Mary; but this seems rather far-fetched. Marrow bones and cleavers; principal instruments in the band of rough music: these are generally performed on by butchers, on marriages, elections, riding skimmington, and other public or joyous occasions.
Martinet. A military term for a strict disciplinarian: from the name of a French general, famous for restoring military discipline to the French army. He first disciplined the French infantry, and regulated their method of encampment: he was killed at the siege of Doesbourg in the year 1672.
Mason’s maund. A sham sore above the elbow, to counterfeit a broken arm by a fall from a scaffold.
Master of the mint. A gardener.
Master of the rolls. A baker.
Master of the wardrobe. One who pawns his clothes to purchase liquor.
Matrimonial peace-maker. The sugar-stick, or arbor vitae.
Maudlin drunk. Crying drunk: perhaps from Mary Magdalene, called Maudlin, who is always painted in tears.
Mauled. Extremely drunk, or soundly beaten.
Maundering broth. Scolding.
Maunding. Asking or begging. Cant.
Mawkes. A vulgar slattern.
Mawley. A hand. Tip us your mawley; shake hands. with me. Fam the mawley; shake hands.
Maw-wallop. A filthy composition, sufficient to provoke vomiting.
Max. Gin.
May bees. May bees don’t fly all the year long; an answer to any one who prefaces a proposition with, It may be.
Mealy-mouthed. Over-modest or backward in speech.
Medlar. A fruit, vulgarly called an open a-se; of which it is more truly than delicately said, that it is never ripe till it is as rotten as a t — d, and then it is not worth a f — t.
Mellow. Almost drunk.
Melting moments. A fat man and woman in the amorous congress.
To melt. To spend. Will you melt a borde? will you spend a shilling? The cull melted a couple of decusses upon us; the gentleman spent a couple of crowns upon us. Cant.
Member mug. A chamber pot.
Men of straw. Hired bail, so called from having straw stuck in their shoes to distinguish them.
Men of kent. Men born east of the river Medway, who are said to have met the Conqueror in a body, each carrying a green bough in his hand, the whole appearing like a moving wood; and thereby obtaining a confirmation of their ancient privileges. The inhabitants of Kent are divided into Kentish men and men of Kent. Also a society held at the Fountain Tavern, Bartholomew Lane, A.D. 1743.
Merkin. Counterfeit hair for women’s privy parts. See Bailey’s dict.
Merry andrew, or Mr. merryman. The jack pudding, jester, or zany of a mountebank, usually dressed in a party-coloured coat.
Merry a-se christian. A whore.
Merry-begotten. A bastard.
Man of the world. A knowing man.
Mess john. A Scotch presbyterian teacher or parson.
Messmate. One who eats at the same mess, companion or comrade.
Mettle. The semen. To fetch mettle; the act of self pollution. Mettle is also figuratively used for courage.
Mettlesome. Bold, courageous.
Michael. Hip, Michael, your head’s on fire. See Hyp.
Midshipman’s watch and chain. A sheep’s heart and pluck.
Milch cow. One who is easily tricked out of his property; a term used by gaolers, for prisoners who have money and bleed freely.
Milk and water. Both ends of the busk.
To milk the pigeon. To endeavour at impossibilities.
Milling cove. A boxer. How the milling cove served the cull out; how the boxer beat the fellow.
Mill. A chisel.
To Mill. To rob; also to break, beat out, or kill. I’ll mill your glaze; I’ll beat out your eye. To mill a bleating cheat; to kill a sheep. To mill a ken; to rob a house. To mill doll; to beat hemp in bridewell. Cant.
Mill lay. To force open the doors of houses in order to rob them.
Miller. A murderer.
Mine a-se on a bandbox. An answer to the offer of any thing inadequate to the purpose for which it is wanted, just as a bandbox would be if used for a seat.
Mine uncle’s. A pawnbroker’s shop; also a necessary house. Carried to my uncle’s; pawned. New-married men are also said to go to their uncle’s, when they leave their wives soon after the honey moon.
Minikin. A little man or woman: also the smallest sort of pin.
Minor clergy. Young chimney sweepers.
Mint. Gold. A mint of money; common phrase for a large sum.
Mischief. A man loaded with mischief, i.e. a man with his wife on his back.
Mish. A shirt, smock, or sheet. Cant.
Mish topper. A coat, or petticoat.
Miss. A miss or kept mistress; a harlot.
Miss laycock. The monosyllable.
Mite. A nick name for a cheesemonger: from the small insect of that name found in cheese.
Mix metal. A silversmith.
Mob; or Mab. A wench, or harlot.
Mobility. The mob: a sort of opposite to nobility.
Mohair. A man in the civil line, a townsman, or tradesman: a military term, from the mohair buttons worn by persons of those descriptions, or any others not in the army, the buttons of military men being always of metal: this is generally used as a term of contempt, meaning a bourgeois, tradesman, or mechanic.
Moiety. Half, but vulgarly used to signify a share or portion: as, He will come in for a small moiety.
Moll. A whore.
Moll peatly’s gig. A rogering bout.
Moll thompson’s mark. M. T. i.e. empty: as, Take away this bottle, it has Moll Thompson’s mark upon it.
Molly. A Miss Molly; an effeminate fellow, a sodomite.
Monday. Saint Monday. See Saint.
Money. A girl’s private parts, commonly applied to little children: as, Take care, Miss, or you will shew your money.
Money droppers. Cheats who drop money, which they pretend to find just before some country lad; and by way of giving him a share of their good luck, entice him into a public house, where they and their confederates cheat or rob him of what money he has about him.
Mongrel. A hanger on among cheats, a spunger; also a child whose father and mother are of different countries.
Monks and friars. Terms used by printers: monks are sheets where the letters are blotted, or printed too black; friars, those letters where the ink has failed touching the type, which are therefore white or faint.
Monkey. To suck the monkey; to suck or draw wine, or any other liquor, privately out of a cask, by means of a straw, or small tube. Monkey’s allowance; more kicks than halfpence. Who put that monkey on horseback without tying his legs? vulgar wit on a bad horseman.
Monosyllable. A woman’s commodity.
Mooncurser. A link-boy: link-boys are said to curse the moon, because it renders their assistance unnecessary; these gentry frequently, under colour of lighting passengers over kennels, or through dark passages, assist in robbing them. Cant.
Moon-eyed hen. A squinting wench.
Moon men. Gypsies.
Moon rakers. Wiltshire men: because it is said that some men of that county, seeing the reflection of the moon in a pond, endeavoured to pull it out with a rake.
Moonshine. A matter or mouthful of moonshine; a trifle, nothing. The white brandy smuggled on the coasts of Kent and Sussex, and the gin in the north of Yorkshire, are also called moonshine.
Mop. A kind of annual fair in the west of England, where farmers usually hire their servants.
To Mop up. To drink up. To empty a glass or pot.
Moped. Stupid, melancholy for want of society.
Mopsey. A dowdy, or homely woman.
Mopsqueezer. A maid servant, particularly a housemaid.
Mopusses. Money.
Morglag. A brown bill, or kind of halbert, formerly carried by watchmen; corruption of More, great or broad, and Glave, blade.
Morning drop. The gallows. He napped the king’s pardon and escaped the morning drop; he was pardoned, and was not hanged.
Morris. Come, morris off; dance off, or get you gone. allusion to morris, i.e. Morisco, or Moorish dancing.
Mort. A woman or wench; also a yeoman’s daughter. To be taken all-a mort; to be confounded, surprised, or motionless through fear.
Moses. To stand Moses: a man is said to stand Moses when he has another man’s bastard child fathered upon him, and he is obliged by the parish to maintain it.
Moss. A cant term for lead, because both are found on the tops of buildings.
Mossy face. The mother of all saints.
Mot. A girl, or wench. See Mort.
Mother, or The mother. A bawd. Mother abbess: the same. Mother midnight; a midwife. Mother in law’s bit; a small piece, mothers in law being supposed not apt to overload the stomachs of their husband’s children.
Mother of all saints. The Monosyllable.
Mother of all souls. The same. Irish.
Mother of st. patrick. The same. Irish.
Mother of the maids. A bawd.
Mouchets. Small patches worn by ladies: from the French word mouches.
Moveables. Rings, watches, or any toys of value.
Mouse. To speak like a mouse in a cheese; i.e. faintly or indistinctly.
Mousetrap. The parson’s mousetrap; the state of matrimony.
Mouth. A noisy fellow. Mouth half cocked; one gaping and staring at every thing he sees. To make any one laugh on the wrong, or t’other side of his mouth; to make him cry or grieve.
Mouth. A silly fellow. A dupe. To stand mouth; i.e. to be duped.
To Mow. A Scotch word for the act of copulation.
Mow heater. A drover: from their frequent sleeping on hay mows. Cant.
Mower. A cow.
Muckworm. A miser.
Muckinder. A child’s handkerchief tied to the side.
Mud. A fool, or thick-sculled fellow; also, among printers the same as dung among journeymen taylors. See Dung.
Mud lark. A fellow who goes about by the water side picking up coals, nails, or other articles in the mud. Also a duck.
Muff. The private parts of a woman. To the well wearing of your muff, mort; to the happy consummation of your marriage, girl; a health.
Muffling cheat. A napkin.
Muggletonians. The sect or disciples of Lodowick Muggleton.
Mulligrubs. Sick of the mulligrubs with eating chopped hay: low-spirited, having an imaginary sickness.
Mum. An interjection directing silence. Mum for that; I shall be silent as to that. As mute as Mumchance, who was hanged for saying nothing; a friendly reproach to any one who seems low-spirited and silent.
Mumchance. An ancient game like hazard, played with dice: probably so named from the silence observed in playing at it.
Mum glass. The monument erected on Fish-street Hill, London, in memory of the great fire in 1666.
Mumble a sparrow. A cruel sport practised at wakes and fairs, in the following manner: A cock sparrow whose wings are clipped, is put into the crown of a hat; a man having his arms tied behind him, attempts to bite off the sparrow’s head, but is generally obliged to desist, by the many pecks and pinches he receives from the enraged bird.
Mummer. The mouth.
Mumpers. Originally beggars of the genteel kind, but since used for beggars in general.
Mumpers hall. An alehouse where beggars are harboured.
Mundungus. Bad or rank tobacco: from mondongo, a Spanish word signifying tripes, or the uncleaned entrails of a beast, full of filth.
Mung. To beg.
Muns. The face, or rather the mouth: from the German word Mund, the mouth. Toute his muns; look at his face.
Munster plums. Potatoes. Irish.
Munster heifer. An Irish woman. A woman with thick legs is said to be like a Munster heifer; i.e. beef to the heels.
Murder. He looked like God’s revenge against murder; he looked angrily.
Murphies. Potatoes.
Mushroom. A person or family suddenly raised to riches and eminence: an allusion to that fungus, which starts up in a night.
Music. The watch-word among highwaymen, signifying the person is a friend, and must pass unmolested. Music is also an Irish term, in tossing up, to express the harp side, or reverse, of a farthing or halfpenny, opposed to the head.
Mute. An undertaker’s servant, who stands at the door of a person lying in state: so named from being supposed mute with grief.
Mutton-headed. Stupid.
Mutton monger. A man addicted to wenching.
Mutton. In her mutton, i.e. having carnal knowledge of a woman.
Muzzle. A beard.
Muzzler. A violent blow on the mouth. The milling cove tipped the cull a muzzler; the boxer gave the fellow a blow on the mouth.
Mynt. See Mint.
Myrmidons. The constable’s assistants, watchmen, &c.
Nab, or Nab cheat. A hat. Penthouse nab; a large hat.
To Nab. To seize, or catch unawares. To nab the teaze; to be privately whipped. To nab the stoop; to stand in the pillory. To nab the rust; a jockey term for a horse that becomes restive. To nab the snow: to steal linen left out to bleach or dry. Cant.
To Nab girder, or Nob girder. A bridle.
Nack. To have a nack; to be ready at any thing, to have a turn-for it.
Nacky. Ingenious.
Nailed. Secured, fixed. He offered me a decus, and I nailed him; he offered me a crown, and I struck or fixed him.
Nanny house. A brothel.
To nap. To cheat at dice by securing one chance. Also to catch the venereal disease. You’ve napt it; you are infected.
Napping. To take any one napping; i.e. to come upon him unexpectedly, to find him asleep: as, He caught him napping, as Morse caught his mare.
Napper. The head; also a cheat or thief.
Napper of naps. A sheep stealer. Cant.
Nappy ale. Strong ale.
Nask, or Naskin. A prison or bridewell. The new nask; Clerkenwell bridewell. Tothil-fields nask; the bridewell at Tothil-fields. Cant.
Nation. An abbreviation of damnation: a vulgar term used in Kent, Sussex, and the adjacent counties, for very. Nation good; very good. A nation long way; a very long way.
Natty lads. Young thieves or pickpockets. Cant.
Natural. A mistress, a child; also an idiot. A natural son or daughter; a love or merry-begotten child, a bastard.
Navy office. The Fleet prison. Commander of the Fleet; the warden of the Fleet prison.
Nay word. A bye-word, proverb.
Nazakene foretop. The foretop of a wig made in imitation of Christ’s head of hair, as represented by the painters and sculptors.
Nazy. Drunken. Nazy cove or mort; a drunken rogue or harlot. Nazy nabs; drunken coxcombs.
Neb, or Nib. The bill of a bird, and the slit of a pen. Figuratively, the face and mouth of a woman; as, She holds up her neb: she holds up her mouth to be kissed.
Neck stamper. The boy who collects the pots belonging to an alehouse, sent out with beer to private houses.
Neck verse. Formerly the persons claiming the benefit of clergy were obliged to read a verse in a Latin manuscript psalter: this saving them from the gallows, was termed their neck verse: it was the first verse of the fiftyfirst psalm, Miserere mei,&c.
Neck weed. Hemp.
Needle point. A sharper.
Negligee. A woman’s undressed gown, Vulgarly termed a neggledigee.
Negroe. A black-a-moor: figuratively used for a slave. I’ll be no man’s negro; I will be no man’s slave.
Negroe’s heads. Brown leaves delivered to the ships in ordinary.
Nescio. He sports a Nescio; he pretends not to understand any thing. After the senate house examination for degrees, the students proceed to the schools, to be questioned by the proctor. According to custom immemorial the answers Must be Nescio. The following is a translated specimen:
Ques. What is your name? — Ans. I do not know.
Ques. What is the name of this university? — Ans. I do not
know.
Ques. Who was your father?-Ans. I do not know.
This last is probably the only true answer of the three!
Nettled. Teized, provoked, out of temper. He or she has pissed on a nettle; said of one who is peevish or out of temper.
New college students. Golden scholars, silver bachelors, and leaden masters.
New drop. The scaffold used at Newgate for hanging of criminals; which dropping down, leaves them suspended. By this improvement, the use of that vulgar vehicle, a cart, is entirely left off.
New light. One of the new light; a methodist.
Newgate bird. A thief or sharper, frequently caged in Newgate.
Newgate solicitor. A petty fogging and roguish attorney, who attends the gaols to assist villains in evading justice.
Newman’s lift. The gallows.
Newman’s tea gardens. Newgate.
Newman’s hotel. Newgate.
To Nick. To win at dice, to hit the mark just in the nick of time, or at the critical moment.
Nick. Old nick; the Devil.
Nickname. A name given in ridicule or contempt: from the French nom de niqne. Niqne is a movement of the head to mark a contempt for any person or thing.
Nick ninny. A simpleton.
Nickin, nikey or Nizey. A soft simple fellow; also a diminutive of Isaac.
Nicknacks. Toys, baubles, or curiosities.
NlCKNackATory. A toyshop.
Nickumpoop, or Nincumpoop. A foolish fellow; also one who never saw his wife’s ****.
Niffynaffy fellow. A trifler.
Nig. The clippings of money. Nigging; clipping. Nigler, a clipper. Cant.
Niggling. Cutting awkwardly, trifling; also accompanying with a woman.
Night magistrate. A constable.
Nightingale. A soldier who, as the term is, sings out at the halberts. It is a point of honour in some regiments, among the grenadiers, never to cry out, become nightingales, whilst under the discipline of the cat of nine tails; to avoid which, they chew a bullet.
Nightman. One whose business it is to empty necessary houses in London, which is always done in the night; the operation is called a wedding. See Wedding.
Nigmenog. A very silly fellow.
To nim. To steal or pilfer: from the German nemen, to take. Nim a togeman; steal a cloak.
Nimgimmer. A physician or surgeon, particularly those who cure the venereal disease.
Nine lives. Cats are said to have nine lives, and women ten cats lives.
Ninny, or Ninnyhammer. A simpleton.
Nip. A cheat. Bung nipper; a cutpurse.
Nip cheese. A nick name for the purser of a ship: from those gentlemen being supposed sometimes to nip, or diminish, the allowance of the seamen, in that and every other article. It is also applied to stingy persons in general.
Nipperkin. A small measure.
Nipps. The sheers used in clipping money.
Nit squeeger, i.e. Squeezer. A hair-dresser.
Nix. Nothing.
No catchy no havy. If I am not caught, I cannot be hurt. Negro saying.
Nob. A king. A man of rank.
Nob. The head.
Nock. The breech; from Nock, a notch.
Nocky boy. A dull simple fellow.
Nod. He is gone to the land of nod; he is asleep.
Noddle. The head.
Noddy. A simpleton or fool. Also a kind of low cart, with a seat before it for the driver, used in and about Dublin, in the manner of a hackney coach: the fare is just half that of a coach, for the same distance; so that for sixpence one may have a set down, as it is called, of a mile and half, and frequently a tumble down into the bargain: it is called a noddy from the nutation of its head. Knave noddy; the old-fashioned name for the knave of trumps.
Noisy dog racket. Stealing brass knockers from doors.
Nokes. A ninny, or fool. John-a-Nokes and Tom-a-Stiles; two honest peaceable gentlemen, repeatedly set together by the ears by lawyers of different denominations: two fictitious names formerly used in law proceedings, but now very seldom, having for several years past been supplanted by two other honest peaceable gentlemen, namely, John Doe and Richard Roe.
Noll. Old Noll; Oliver Cromwell.
Non-con. A nonconformist, presbyterian, or any other dissenter.
None-such. One that is unequalled: frequently applied ironically.
Nonsense. Melting butter in a wig.
Noozed. Married, hanged.
Nope. A blow: as, I took him a nope on the costard.
Norfolk capon. A red herring.
Norfolk dumpling. A nick name, or term of jocular reproach to a Norfolk man; dumplings being a favourite food in that county.
North allertons. Spurs; that place, like Rippon, being famous for making them.
Northumberland. Lord Northumberland’s arms; a black eye: so called in the last century.
Norway neckcloth. The pillory, usually made of Norway fir.
Nose. As plain as the nose on your face; evidently to be seen. He is led by the nose; he is governed. To follow one’s nose; to go strait forward. To put one’s nose out of joint; to rival one in the favour of any person. To make a bridge of any one’s nose; to pass by him in drinking. To nose a stink; to smell it. He cut off his nose to be revenged of his face; said of one who, to be revenged on his neighbour, has materially injured himself.
Nose. A man who informs or turns king’s evidence.
To nose. To give evidence. To inform. His pall nosed and he was twisted for a crack; his confederate turned king’s evidence, and he was hanged for burglary.
To nose. To bully.
Nose bag. A bag fastened to the horse’s head, in which the soldiers of the cavalry put the oats given to their horses: whence the saying, I see the hose bag in his face; i.e. he has been a private man, or rode private.
Nose gent. A nun.
Nostrum. A medicine prepared by particular persons only, a quack medicine.
Notch. The private parts of awoman.
Note. He changed his note; he told another sort of a story.
Nous-box. The head.
Nozzle. The nose of a man or woman.
Nub. The neck; also coition.
Nubbing. Hanging. Nubbing cheat: the gallows. Nubbing cove; the hangman. Nubbing ken; the sessions house.
Nug. An endearing word: as, My dear nug; my dear love.
Nugging dress. An out-of-the-way old-fashioned dress, or rather a loose kind of dress, denoting a courtesan.
Nugging-house. A brothel.
To null. To beat: as, He nulled him heartily.
Numbers. To consult the book of numbers: a term used in the House of Commons, when, instead of answering or confuting a pressing argument, the minister calls for a division, i.e. puts the matter to the vote.
Numbscull. A stupid fellow.
Numms. A sham collar, to be worn over a dirty shirt.
Nunnery. A bawdy house.
To nurse. To cheat: as, they nursed him out of it. An estate in the hands of trustees, for the payment of bdebts, is said to be at nurse.
Nuts. It was nuts for them; i.e. it was very agreeable to them.
Nuts. Fond; pleased. She’s nuts upon her cull; she’s pleased with her cully. The cove’s nutting the blowen; the man is trying to please the girl.
Nutcrackers. The pillory: as, The cull peeped through the nutcrackers.
Nutmegs. Testicles.
Nyp, or Nip. A half pint, a nip of ale: whence the nipperkin, a small vessel.
Nyp shop. The Peacock in Gray’s Inn Lane, where Burton ale is sold in nyps.
Nypper. A cut-purse: so called by one Wotton, who in the year 1585 kept an academy for the education and perfection of pickpockets and cut-purses: his school was near Billingsgate, London. As in the dress of ancient times many people wore their purses at their girdles, cutting them was a branch of the light-fingered art, which is now lost, though the name remains. Maitland, from Stow, gives the following account of this Wotton: This man was a gentleman born, and sometime a merchant of good credit, but fallen by time into decay: he kept an alehouse near Smart’s Key, near Billingsgate, afterwards for some misdemeanor put down. He reared up a new trade of life, and in the same house he procured all the cut-purses about the city, to repair to his house; there was a school-house set up to learn young boys to cut purses: two devices were hung up; one was a pocket, and another was a purse; the pocket had in it certain counters, and was hung about with hawks bells, and over the top did hang a little sacring bell. The purse had silver in it; and he that could take out a counter, without noise of any of the bells, was adjudged a judicial Nypper: according to their terms of art, a Foyster was a pick-pocket; a Nypper was a pick purse, or cut-purse.
O be joyful. I’ll make you sing O be joyful on the other side of your mouth; a threat, implying the party threatened will be made to cry. To sing O be easy; to appear contented when one has cause to complain, and dare not.
Oaf. A silly fellow.
Oafish. Simple.
Oak. A rich maa, a man of good substance and credit. To sport oak; to shut the outward door of a student’s room at college. An oaken towel; an oaken cudgel. To rub a man down with an oaken towel; to beat him.
Oats. He has sowed his wild oats; he is staid, or sober, having left off his wild tricks.
Oaths. The favourite oaths of the thieves of the present day are, “God strike me blind!” “I wish my bloody eyes may drop out if it is not true!” “So help me God!” “Bloody end to me!”
Oar. To put in one’s oar; to intermeddle, or give an opinion unasked: as, To be sure, you must put in your oar!
Obstropulous. Vulgar misnomer of Obstreperous: as, I was going my rounds, and found this here gemman very obstropulous, whereof I comprehended him as an auspicious parson.
Occupy. To occupy a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her.
Oddfellows. A convivial society; the introduction to the most noble grand, arrayed in royal robes, is well worth seeing at the price of becoming a member.
Odds plut and her nails. A Welch oath, frequently mentioned in a jocular manner by persons, it is hoped, ignorant of its meaning; which is, By God’s blood, and the nails with which he was nailed to the cross.
Odd-come-shortlys. I’ll do it one of these odd-come-shortly’s; I will do it some time or another.
Office. To give the office; to give information, or make signs to the officers to take a thief.
Ogles. Eyes. Rum ogles; fine eyes.
Oil of barley, or Barley broth. Strong beer.
Oil of gladness. I will anoint you with the oil of gladness; ironically spoken for, I will beat you.
Oil of stirrup. A dose the cobler gives his wife whenever she is obstropulous.
Oi poaaoi (Proofreaders Note: Greek Letters). (Cambridge.) The many; the multitude; who take degrees without being entitled for an honor. All that is Required, are three books of Euclid, and as far as Quadratic Equation’s in Algebra. See Plucked.
Old. Ugly. Cant.
Old dog at it. Expert, accustomed.
Old hand. Knowing or expert in any business.
Old harry. A composition used by vintners to adulterate their wines; also the nick-name for the devil.
Old ding. See Old hat.
Old mr. gory. A piece of gold.
Old nick. The Devil: from Neken, the evil spirit of the north.
Old one. The Devil. Likewise an expression of quizzical familiarity, as “how d’ye do, Old one?”
Old pegg. Poor Yorkshire cheese, made of skimmed milk.
Old poger. The Devil.
Old stager. One accustomed to business, one who knows mankind.
Old toast. A brisk old fellow. Cant.
Old doss. Bridewell.
Oliver’s scull. A chamber pot.
Olli compolli. The name of one of the principal rogues of the canting crew. Cant.
Omnium gatherum. The whole together: jocular imitation of law Latin.
One in ten. A parson: an allusion to his tithes.
One of us, or One of my cousins. A woman of the town, a harlot.
Onion. A seal. Onion hunters, a class of young thieves who are on the look out for gentlemen who wear their seals suspended on a ribbon, which they cut, and thus secure the seals or other trinkets suspended to the watch.
Open arse. A medlar. See Medlar.
Optime. The senior and junior optimes are the second and last classes of Cambridge honors conferred on taking a degree. That of wranglers is the first. The last junior optime is called the Wooden Spoon.
Organ. A pipe. Will you cock your organ? will you smoke your pipe?
Orthodoxy and heterodoxy. Somebody explained these terms by saying, the first was a man who had a doxy of his own, the second a person who made use of the doxy of another man.
Oschives. Bone-handled knives. Cant.
Ostler. Oatstealer.
Ottomy. The vulgar word for a skeleton.
Ottomised. To be ottomised; to be dissected. You’ll be scragged, ottomised, and grin in a glass case: you’ll be hanged, anatomised, and your skeleton kept in a glass case at Surgeons’ Hall.
Oven. A great mouth; the old woman would never have looked for her daughter in the oven, had she not been there herself.
Overseer. A man standing in the pillory, is, from his elevated situation, said to be made an overseer.
Out at heels, or out at elbows. In declining circumstances.
Outrun the constable. A man who has lived above his means, or income, is said to have outrun the constable.
Outs. A gentleman of three outs. See Gentleman.
Owl. To catch the; a trick practised upon ignorant country boobies, who are decoyed into a barn under pretence of catching an owl, where, after divers preliminaries, the joke ends in their having a pail of water poured upon their heads.
Owl in an ivy bush. He looks like an owl in an ivy bush; frequently said of a person with a large frizzled wig, or a woman whose hair is dressed a-la-blowze.
Owlers. Those who smuggle wool over to France.
Ox house. He must go through the ox house to bed; a saying of an old fellow who marries a young girl.
Oyes. Corruption of oyez, proclaimed by the crier of all courts of justice.
Oyster. A gob of thick phlegm, spit by a consumptive man; in law Latin, Unum viridum gobbum
P’s. To mind one’s P’s and Q’s; to be attentive to the main chance.
P.P.C. An inscription on the visiting cards of our modern fine gentleman, signifying that they have called Pour Prendre conge, i.e. ‘to take leave,’ This has of late been ridiculed by cards inscribed D.I.O. i.e. ‘Damme, I’m off.’
Packet. A false report.
Packthread. To talk packthread; to use indecent language well wrapt up.
Pad. The highway, or a robber thereon; also a bed. Footpads; foot robbers. To go out upon the pad; to go out in order to commit a robbery.
Pad borrowers. Horse stealers.
To pad the hoof. See To Beat the hoof.
Paddington fair day. An execution day, Tyburn being in the parish or neighbourhood of Paddington. To dance the Paddington frisk; to be hanged.
Paddy. The general name for an Irishman: being the abbreviation of Patrick, the name of the tutelar saint of that island.
Painter. I’ll cut your painter for you; I’ll send you off; the painter being the ropfe that holds the boat fast to the ship. Sea term.
Pair of wings. Oars. Cant.
To palaver. To flatter: originally an African word for a treaty, talk, or conference.
Palliards. Those whose fathers were clapperdogens, or beggars born, and who themselves follow the same trade: the female sort beg with a number of children, borrowing them, if they have not a sufficient number of their own, and making them cry by pinching in order to excite charity; the males make artificial sores on different parts of their bodies, to move compassion.
Pall. A companion. One who generally accompanies another, or who commit robberies together.
Pam. The knave of clubs.
Pannam. Bread.
Pannier man. A servant belonging to the Temple and Gray’s Inn, whose office is to announce the dinner. This in the Temple, is done by blowing a horn; and in Gray’s Inn proclaiming the word Manger, Manger, Manger, in each of the three courts.
Panny. A house. To do a panny: to rob a house. See the Sessions Papers. Probably, panny originally meant the butler’s pantry, where the knives and forks, spoons, &c. are usually kept The pigs frisked my panney, and nailed my screws; the officers searched my house, and seized my picklock keys. Cant.
Panter. A hart: that animal is, in the Psalms, said to pant after the fresh water-brooks. Also the human heart, which frequently pants in time of danger. Cant.
Pantile shop. A presbyterian, or other dissenting meeting house, frequently covered with pantiles: called also a cock-pit.
Pantler. A butler.
Pap. Bread sauce; also the food of infants. His mouth is full of pap; he is still a baby.
Paper scull. A thin-scull’d foolish fellow.
Papler. Milk pottage.
Parell. Whites of eggs, bay salt, milk, and pump water, beat together, and poured into a vessel of wine to prevent its fretting.
Parenthesis. To put a man’s nose into a parenthesis: to pull it, the fingers and thumb answering the hooks or crochets. A wooden parenthesis; the pillory. An iron parenthesis; a prison.
Parings. The chippings of money. Cant.
Parish bull. A parson.
Parish. His stockings are of two parishes; i.e. they are not fellows.
Parish soldier. A jeering name for a militiaman: from substitutes being frequently hired by the parish from which one of its inhabitants is drawn.
Park pailing. Teeth.
Parson. A guide post, hand or finger post by the road side for directing travellers: compared to a parson, because, like him, it sets people in the right way. See Guide post. He that would have luck in horse-flesh, must kiss a parson’s wife.
Parson’s journeyman. A curate.
Parson palmer. A jocular name, or term of reproach, to one who stops the circulation of the glass by preaching over his liquor; as it is said was done by a parson of that name whose cellar was under his pulpit.
Partial. Inclining more to one side than the other, crooked, all o’ one hugh.
Pass bank. The place for playing at passage, cut into the ground almost like a cock-pit. Also the stock or fund.
Passage. A camp game with three dice: doublets, making up ten or more, to pass or win; any other chances lose.
Pat. Apposite, or to the purpose.
Pate. The head. Carroty-pated; red-haired.
Patrico, or Pater-cove. The fifteenth rank of the canting tribe; strolling priests that marry people under a hedge, without gospel or common prayer book: the couple standing on each side of a dead beast, are bid to live together till death them does part; so shaking hands, the wedding is ended. Also any minister or parson.
Pattering. The maundering or pert replies of servants; also talk or palaver in order to amuse one intended to be cheated. Pattering of prayers; the confused sound of a number of persons praying together.
To patter. To talk. To patter flash; to speak flash, or the language used by thieves. How the blowen lushes jackey, and patters flash; how the wench drinks gin, and talks flash.
Paviour’s workshop. The street.
To paum. To conceal in the hand. To paum a die: to hide a die in the palm of the hand. He paums; he cheats. Don’t pretend to paum that upon me.
Paunch. The belly. Some think paunch was the original name of that facetious prince of puppets, now called Mr. Punch, as he is always represented with a very prominent belly: though the common opinion is, that both the name and character were taken from a celebrated Italian comedian, called Polichenello.
Paw. A hand or foot; look at his dirty paws. Fore paw; the hand. Hind paw; the foot. To paw; to touch or handle clumsily.
Paw paw tricks. Naughty tricks: an expression used by nurses, &c. to children.
To pay. To smear over. To pay the bottom of a ship or boat; to smear it over with pitch: The devil to pay, and no pitch hot or ready. Sea term. — Also to beat: as, I will pay you as Paul paid the Ephesians, over the face and eyes, and all your d —— d jaws. To pay away; to fight manfully, also to eat voraciously. To pay through the nose: to pay an extravagant price.
To Peach. To impeach: called also to blow the gab, squeak, or turn stag.
Peak. Any kind of lace.
Peal. To ring a peal in a man’s ears; to scold at him: his wife rang him such a peal!
Pear making. Taking bounties from several regiments and immediately deserting. The cove was fined in the steel for pear making; the fellow was imprisoned in the house of correction for taking bounties from different regiments.
Peccavi. To cry peccavi; to acknowledge one’s self in an error, to own a fault: from the Latin Peccavi, I have sinned.
Peck. Victuals. Peck and booze; victuals and drink.
Peckish. Hungry.
Ped. A basket. Cant.
Pedlar’s french. The cant language. Pedlar’s pony; a walking-stick.
To Peel. To strip: allusion to the taking off the coat or rind of an orange or apple.
Peeper. A spying glass; also a looking-glass. Track up the dancers, and pike with the peeper; whip up stairs, and run off with the looking-glass. Cant.
Peepers. Eyes. Single peeper, a one-eyed man.
Peeping tom. A nick name for a curious prying fellow; derived from an old legendary tale, told of a taylor of Coventry, who, when Godiva countess of Chester rode at noon quite naked through that town, in order to procure certain immunities for the inhabitants, (notwithstanding the rest of the people shut up their houses) shly peeped out of his window, for which he was miraculously struck blind. His figure, peeping out of a window, is still kept up in remembrance of the transaction.
Peepy. Drowsy.
To Peer. To look about, to be circumspect.
Peery. Inquisitive, suspicious. The cull’s peery; that fellow suspects something. There’s a peery, tis snitch we are observed, there’s nothing to be done.
Peg. Old Peg; poor hard Suffolk or Yorkshire cheese. A peg is also a blow with a straightarm: a term used by the professors of gymnastic arts. A peg in the day-light, the victualling office, or the haltering-place; a blow in the eye, stomach, or under the ear.
Peg trantum’s. Gone to Peg Trantum’s; dead.
Pego. The penis of man or beast.
Pell-mell. Tumultuously, helter skelter, jumbled together.
Pelt. A heat, chafe, or passion; as, What a pelt he was in! Pelt is also the skin of several beasts.
Penance board. The pillory.
Penny-wise and pound foolish. Saving in small matters, and extravagant in great.
Pennyworth. An equivalent. A good pennyworth; cheap bargain.
Penthouse nab. A broad brimmed hat.
Peppered. Infected with the venereal disease.
Peppery. Warm, passionate.
Perkin. Water cyder.
Perriwinkle. A wig.
Persuaders. Spurs. The kiddey clapped his persuaders to his prad but the traps boned him; the highwayman spurred his horse hard, but the officers seized him.
Pet. In a pet; in a passion or miff.
Peter. A portmanteau or cloke-bag. Biter of peters; one that makes it a trade to steal boxes and trunks from behind stage coaches or out of waggons. To rob Peter to pay Paul; to borrow of one man to pay another: styled also manoeuvring the apostles.
Peter gunner, will kill all the birds that died last summer. A piece of wit commonly thrown out at a person walking through a street or village near London, with a gun in his hand.
Peter lay. The department of stealing portmanteaus, trunks, &c.
Peter lug. Who is Peter Lug? who lets the glass stand at his door, or before him.
Petticoat hold. One who has an estate during his wife’s life, called the apron-string hold.
Petticoat pensioner. One kept by a woman forsecret services.
Pettish. Passionate.
Petty fogger. A little dirty attorney, ready to undertake any litigious or bad cause: it is derived from the French words petit vogue, of small credit, or little reputation.
Pharaoh. Strong malt liquor.
Philistines. Bailiffs, or officers of justice; also drunkards.
Phoenix-men. Firemen belonging to an insurance office, which gave a badge charged with a phoenix: these men were called likewise firedrakes.
Phos bottle. A. bottle of phosphorus: used by housebreakers to light their lanthorns. Ding the phos; throw away the bottle of phosphorus.
Phrase of paper. Half a quarter of a sheet. See Vessel, physog.
Physog. The face. A vulgar abbreviation of physiognomy.
Phyz. The face. Rum phyz; an odd face or countenance.
Picaroon. A pirate; also a sharper.
Pickaniny. A young child, an infant. Negro term.
Picking. Pilfering, petty larceny.
Pickle. An arch waggish fellow. In pickle, or in the pickling tub; in a salivation. There are rods in brine, or pickle, for him; a punishment awaits him, or is prepared for him. Pickle herring; the zany or merry andrew of a mountebank. See Jack pudding.
Pickt hatch. To go to the manor of pickt hatch, a cant name for some part of the town noted for bawdy houses in Shakespeare’s time, and used by him in that sense.
Pickthank. A tale-bearer or mischief maker.
Picture frame. The sheriff’s picture frame; the gallows or pillory.
To Piddle. To make water: a childish expression; as, Mammy, I want to piddle. Piddling also means trifling, or doing any thing in a small degree: perhaps from peddling.
Piece. A wench. A damned good or bad piece; a girl who is more or less active and skilful in the amorous congress. Hence the (Cambridge) toast, May we never have a Piece (peace) that will injure the constitution. Piece likewise means at Cambridge a close or spot of ground adjacent to any of the colleges, as Clare-hall Piece, &c. The spot of ground before King’s College formerly belonged to Clare-hall. While Clare Piece belonged to King’s, the master of Clare-hall proposed a swop, which being refused by the provost of King’s, he erected before their gates a temple of Cloacina. It will be unnecessary to say that his arguments were soon acceded to.
Pig. A police officer. A China street pig; a Bow-street officer. Floor the pig and bolt; knock down the officer and run away.
Pig. Sixpence, a sow’s baby. Pig-widgeon; a simpleton. To pig together; to lie or sleep together, two or more in a bed. Cold pig; a jocular punishment inflicted by the maid seryants, or other females of the house, on persons lying over long in bed: it consists in pulling off all the bed clothes, and leaving them to pig or lie in the cold. To buy a pig in a poke; to purchase any thing without seeing. Pig’s eyes; small eyes. Pigsnyes; the same: a vulgar term of endearment to a woman. He can have boiled pig at home; a mark of being master of his own house: an allusion to a well known poem and story. Brandy is Latin for pig and goose; an apology for drinking a dram after either.
Pig-headed. Obstinate.
Pig running. A piece of game frequently practised at fairs, wakes, &c. A large pig, whose tail is cut short, and both soaped and greased, being turned out, is hunted by the young men and boys, and becomes the property of him who can catch and hold him by the tail, abpve the height of his head.
Pigeon. A weak silly fellow easily imposed on. To pigeon; to cheat. To milk the pigeon; to attempt impossibilities, to be put to shifts for want of money. To fly a blue pigeon; to steal lead off a church.
Pigeons. Sharpers, who, during the drawing of the lottery, wait ready mounted near Guildhall, and, as soon as the first two or three numbers are drawn, which they receive from a confederate on a card, ride with them full speed to some distant insurance office, before fixed on, where there is another of the gang, commonly a decent looking woman, who takes care to be at the office before the hour of drawing: to her he secretly gives the number, which she insures for a considerable sum: thus biting the biter.
Pigeon’s milk. Boys and novices are frequently sent on the first of April to buy pigeons milk.
To Pike. To run away. Pike off; run away.
Pilgrim’s salve. A sirreverence, human excrement.
Pill, or Peele garlick. Said originally to mean one whose skin or hair had fallen off from some disease, chiefly the venereal one; but now commonly used by persons speaking of themselves: as, there stood poor pill garlick: i.e. there stood I.
Pillaloo. The Irish cry or howl at funerals.
Pimp. A male procurer, or cock bawd; also a small faggot used about London for lighting fires, named from introducing the fire to the coals.
Pimp whiskin. A top trader in pimping.
Pimple. The head.
Pin. In or to a merry pin; almost drunk: an allusion to a sort of tankard, formerly used in the north, having silver pegs or pins set at equal distances from the top to the bottom: by the rules of good fellowship, every person drinking out of one of these tankards, was to swallow the quantity contained between two pins; if he drank more or less, he was to continue drinking till he ended at a pin: by this means persons unaccustomed to measure their draughts were obliged to drink the whole tankard. Hence when a person was a little elevated with liquor, he was said to have drunk to a merry pin.
Pin basket. The youngest child.
Pin money. An allowance settled on a married woman for her pocket expences.
Pinch. At a pinch; on an exigency.
Pinch. To go into a tradesman’s shop under the pretence of purchasing rings or other light articles, and while examining them to shift some up the sleeve of the coat. Also to ask for change for a guinea, and when the silver is received, to change some of the good shillings for bad ones; then suddenly pretending to recollect that you had sufficient silver to pay the bill, ask for the guinea again, and return the change, by which means several bad shillings are passed.
To Pinch on the parson’s side. To defraud the parson of his tithe.
Pinchers. Rogues who, in changing money, by dexterity of hand frequently secrete two or three shillings out of the change of a guinea. This species of roguery is called the pinch, or pinching lay.
To Pink. To stab or wound with a small sword: probably derived from the holes formerly cut in both men and women’s clothes, called pinking. Pink of the fashion; the top of the mode. To pink and wink; frequently winking the eyes through a weakness in them.
Pinking-dindee. A sweater or mohawk. Irish.
Pins. Legs. Queer pins; ill shapen legs.
Piper. A broken winded horse.
Piscinarians. A club or brotherhood, A.D. 1743.
Piss. He will piss when he can’t whistle; he will be hanged. He shall not piss my money against the wall; he shall not have my money to spend in liquor.
He who once a good name gets,
May piss a bed, and say he sweats.
Piss-burned. Discoloured: commonly applied to a discoloured grey wig.
Piss maker. A great drinker, one much given to liquor.
Piss pot hall. A house at Clapton, near Hackney, built by a potter chiefly out of the profits of chamber pots, in the bottom of which the portrait of Dr. Sacheverel was depicted.
Piss prophet. A physician who judges of the diseases of his patients solely by the inspection of their urine.
Piss-proud. Having a false erection. That old fellow thought he had an erection, but his — was only piss-proud; said of any old fellow who marries a young wife.
Pissing down any one’s back. Flattering him.
Pissing pins and needles. To have a gonorrhea.
Pit. A watch fob. He drew a rare thimble from the swell’s pit. He took a handsome watch from the gentleman’s fob.
Pit. To lay pit and boxes into one; an operation in midwifery or copulation, whereby the division between the anus and vagina is cut through, broken, and demolished: a simile borrowed from the playhouse, when, for the benefit of some favourite player, the pit and boxes are laid together. The pit is also the hole under the gallows, where poor rogues unable to pay the fees are buried.
Pitt’s picture. A window stopt up on the inside, to save the tax imposed in that gentleman’s administration. Party Wit
Pit-a-pat. The palpitation of the heart: as, my heart went pit-a-pat. Pintledy-pantledy; the same.
Pitch-kettled. Stuck fast, confounded.
Pitcher. The miraculous pitcher, that holds water with the mouth downwards: a woman’s commodity. She has crack’d her pitcher or pipkin; she has lost her maidenhead.
Pizzy club. A society held, A. D, 1744, at the sign of the Tower, on Tower Hill: president, Don Pizzaro.
Plaister of warm guts. One warm belly’dapped to another; a receipt frequently prescribed for different disorders.
Plant. The place in the house of the fence where stolen goods are secreted. Any place where stolen goods are concealed.
To Plant. To lay, place, or hide. Plant your wids and stow them; be careful what you say, or let slip. Also to bury, as, he was planted by the parson.
Plate. Money, silver, prize. He is in for the plate; he has won the Keat, i.e. is infected with the venereal disorder: a simile drawn from hofse-racing. When the plate fleet comes in; when money comes to hand.
Platter-faced. Broad-faced.
Play. To play booty; to play with an intention to lose. To play the whole game; to cheat. To play least in sight; to hide, or keep out of the way. To play the devil; to be guilty of some great irregularity or mismanagement.
Pluck. Courage. He wants pluck: he is a coward. Against the pluck; against the inclination. Pluck the Ribbon; ring the bell. To pluck a crow with one; to settle a dispute, to reprove one for some past transgression. To pluck a rose; an expression said to be used by women for going to the necessary house, which in the country usually stands in the garden. To pluck also signifies to deny a degree to a candidate at one of the universities, on account of insufficiency. The three first books of Euclid, and as far as Quadratic Equations in Algebra, will save a man from being plucked. These unfortunate fellows are designated by many opprobrious appellations, such as the twelve apostles, the legion of honor, wise men of the East, &c.
Plug tail. A man’s penis.
Plumb. An hundred thousand pounds.
Plummy. It is all plummy; i.e. all is right, or as it ought to be.
Plump. Fat, full, fleshy. Plump in the pocket; full in the pocket. To plump; to strike, or shoot. I’ll give you a plump in the bread basket, or the victualling office: I’ll give you a blow in the stomach. Plump his peepers, or day-lights; give him a blow in the eyes. He pulled out his pops and plumped him; he drew out his pistols and shot him. A plumper; a single vote at an election. Plump also means directly, or exactly; as, it fell plump upon him: it fell directly upon him.
Plump currant. I am not plump currant; I am out of sorts.
Plumpers. Contrivances said to be formerly worn by old maids, for filling out a pair of shrivelled cheeks.
Plyer. A crutch; also a trader.
Pogy. Drunk.
Point. To stretch a point; to exceed some usual limit, to take a great stride. Breeches were usually tied up with points, a kind of short laces, formerly given away by the churchwardens at Whitsuntide, under the denomination of tags: by taking a great stride these were stretched.
Poisoned. Big with child: that wench is poisoned, see how her belly is swelled. Poison-pated: red-haired.
Poke. A blow with the fist: I’ll lend you a poke. A poke likewise means a sack: whence, to buy a pig in a poke, i.e. to buy any thing without seeing or properly examining it.
Poker. A sword. Fore pokers; aces and kings at cards. To burn your poker; to catch the venereal disease.
Pole. He is like a rope-dancer’s polo, lead at both ends; a saying of a stupid sluggish fellow.
Polish. To polish the king’s iron with one’s eyebrows; to be in gaol, and look through the iron grated windows. To polish a bone; to eat a meal. Come and polish a bone with me; come and eat a dinner or supper with me.
Poll. The head, jolly nob, napper, or knowledge box; also a wig.
Polt. A blow. Lend him a polt in the muns; give him a knock in the face.
To pommel. To beat: originally confined to beating with the hilt of a sword, the knob being, from its similarity to a small apple, called pomelle; in Spanish it is still called the apple of the sword. As the clenched fist likewise somewhat resembles an apple, perhaps that might occasion the term pommelling to be applied to fisty-cuffs.
Pomp. To save one’s pomp at whist, is to score five before the adversaries are up, or win the game: originally derived from pimp, which is Welsh for five; and should be, I have saved my pimp.
Pompaginis. Aqua pompaginis; pump water. See Aqua.
Pompkin. A man or woman of Boston in America: from, the number of pompkins raised and eaten by the people of that country. Pompkinshire; Boston and its dependencies.
Poney. Money. Post the poney; lay down the money.
Pontius pilate. A pawnbroker. Pontius Pilate’s guards, the first regiment of foot, or Royal Scots: so intitled from their supposed great antiquity. Pontius Pilate’s counsellor; one who like him can say, Non invenio causam, I can find no cause. Also (Cambridge) a Mr. Shepherd of Trinity College; who disputing with a brother parson on the comparative rapidity with which they read the liturgy, offered to give him as far as Pontius Pilate in the Belief.
Pope. A figure burned annually every fifth of November, in memory of the gunpowder plot, which is said to have been carried on by the papists.
Pope’s nose. The rump of a turkey.
Pops. Pistols. Popshop: a pawnbroker’s shop. To pop; to pawn: also to shoot. I popped my tatler; I pawned my watch. I popt the cull; I shot the man. His means are two pops and a galloper; that is, he is a highwayman.
Poplers. Pottage. Cant.
Pork. To cry pork; to give intelligence to the undertaker of a funeral; metaphor borrowed from the raven, whose note sounds like the word pork. Ravens are said to smell carrion at a distance.
Porker. A hog: also a Jew.
Porridge. Keep your breath to cool your porridge; i. e. held your tongue.
Porridge island. An alley leading from St. Martin’s church-yard to Round-court, chiefly inhabited by cooks, who cut off ready-dressed meat of all sorts, and also sell soup.
Posey, or Poesy. A nosegay. I shall see you ride backwards up Holborn-hill, with a book in one hand, and a posey in t’other; i.e. I shall see you go to be hanged. Malefactors who piqued themselves on being properly equipped for that occasion, had always a nosegay to smell to, and a prayer book, although they could not read.
Posse mobilitatis. The mob.
Post master general. The prime minister, who has the patronage of all posts and places.
Post nointer. A house painter, who occasionally paints or anoints posts. Knight of the post; a false evidence, one ready to swear any thing for hire. From post to pillar; backwards and forwards.
Postilion of the gospel. A parson who hurries over the service.
Pot. The pot calls the kettle black a-se; one rogue exclaims against another.
Pot. On the pot; i.e. at stool.
Pot converts. Proselytes to the Romish church, made by the distribution of victuals and money.
Pot hunter. One who hunts more tor the sake of the prey than the sport. Pot valiant; courageous from drink. Potwallopers: persons entitled to vote in certain boroughs by having boiled a pot there.
Potatoe trap. The mouth. Shut your potatoe trap and give your tongue a holiday; i.e. be silent. Irish wit.
Pothooks and hangeks. A scrawl, bad writing.
Pot-wabblers. Persons entitled to vote for members of parliament in certain boroughs, from having boiled their pots therein. These boroughs are called pot-wabbling boroughs.
Poulain. A bubo. French.
Poulterer. A person that guts letters; i.e. opens them and secretes the money. The kiddey was topped for the poultry rig; the young fellow was hanged for secreting a letter and taking out the contents.
Pound. To beat. How the milling cove pounded the cull for being nuts on his blowen; how the boxer beat the fellow for taking liberties with his mistress.
Pound. A prison. See Lob’s pound. Pounded; imprisoned. Shut up in the parson’s pound; married. Powder
Powder monkey. A boy on board a ship of war, whose business is to fetch powder from the magazine.
Powdering tub. The same as pickling tub. See Pickling tub.
Prad lay. Cutting bags from behind horses. Cant.
Prad. A horse. The swell flashes a rum prad: the e gentleman sports a fine horse.
Prancer. A horse. Prancer’s nab.; a horse’s head, used as a seal to a counterfeit pass. At the sign of the prancer’s poll, i.e. the nag’s head.
Prate roast. A talkative boy.
Prating cheat. The tongue.
Pratts. Buttocks; also a tinder box. Cant.
Prattle broth. Tea. See Chatter broth, scandal broth, &c.
Prattling box. The pulpit.
Pray. She prays with her knees upwards; said of a woman much given to gallantry and intrigue. At her last prayers; saying of an old maid.
Preadamite quacabites. This great and laudable society (as they termed themselves) held their grand chapter at the Coal-hole.
P—— K. The virile member.
Prick-eared. A prick-eared fellow; one whose ears are longer than his hair: an appellation frequently given to puritans, who considered long hair as the mark of the whore of Babylon.
Pricklouse. A taylor.
Priest-craft. The art of awing the laity, managing their consciences, and diving into their pockets.
Priest-linked. Married.
Priest-ridden. Governed by a priest, or priests.
Prig. A thief, a cheat: also a conceited coxcomical fellow.
Prig napper. A thief taker.
Priggers. Thieves in general. Priggers of prancers; horse stealers. Priggers of cacklers: robbers of hen-roosts.
Prigging. Riding; also lying with a woman.
Prigstar. A rival in love.
Prime. Bang up. Quite the thing. Excellent. Well done. She’s a prime piece; she is very skilful in the venereal act. Prime post. She’s a prime article.
Priminaky. I had like to be brought into a priminary; i.e. into trouble; from Premunire.
Prince prig. A king of the gypsies; also the head thief or receiver general.
Princes. When the majesty of the people was a favourite terra in the House of Commons, a celebrated wit, seeing chimney sweepers dancing on a May-day, styled them the young princes.
Princod. A pincushion. Scotch— Also a round plump man or woman.
Princox. A pert, lively, forward fellow.
Princum prancum. Mrs. Princum Prancum; a nice, precise, formal madam.
Prinking. Dressing over nicely: prinked up as if he came out of a bandbox, or fit to sit upon a cupboard’s head.
Print. All in print, quite neat or exact, set, screwed up. Quite in print; set in a formal manner.
Priscian. To break Priscian’s head; to write or speak false grammar. Priscian was a famous grammarian, who flourished at Constantinople in the year 525; and who was so devoted to his favourite study, that to speak false Latin in his company, was as disagreeable to him as to break his head.
Prittle prattle. Insignificant talk: generally applied to women and children.
Prog. Provision. Rum prog; choice provision. To prog; to be on the hunt for provision: called in the military term to forage.
Props. Crutches.
Property. To make a property of any one; to make him a conveniency, tool, or cat’s paw; to use him as one’s own.
Proud. Desirous of copulation. A proud bitch; a bitch at heat, or desirous of a dog.
Provender. He from whom any money is taken on the highway: perhaps provider, or provider. Cant.
Prophet. The prophet; the Cock at Temple Bar: so called, in 1788, by the bucks of the town of the inferior order.
Prunella. Mr. Prunella; a parson: parson’s gowns being frequently made of prunella.
To Pry. To examine minutely into a matter or business. A prying fellow; a man of impertinent curiosity, apt to peep and inquire into other men’s secrets.
Public man. A bankrupt.
Public ledger. A prostitute: because, like that paper, she is open to all parties.
Pucker. All in a pucker; in a dishabille. Also in a fright; as, she was in a terrible pucker.
Pucker water. Water impregnated with alum, or other astringents, used by old experienced traders to counterfeit virginity.
Puddings. The guts: I’ll let out your puddings.
Pudding-headed fellow. A stupid fellow, one whose brains are all in confusion.
Pudding sleeves. A parson.
Pudding time. In good time, or at the beginning of a meal: pudding formerly making the first dish. To give the crows a pudding; to die. You must eat some cold pudding, to settle your love.
Puff, or Puffer. One who bids at auctions, not with an intent to buy, but only to raise the price of the lot; for which purpose many are hired by the proprietor of the goods on sale.
Puff guts. A fat man.
Puffing. Bidding at an auction, as above; also praising any thing above its merits, from interested motives. The art of puffing is at present greatly practised, and essentially necessary in all trades, professions, and callings. To puff and blow; to be out of breath.
Pug. A Dutch pug; a kind of lap-dog, formerly much in vogue; also a general name for a monkey.
Pug carpenteter. An inferior carpenter, one employed only in small jobs.
Pug drink. Watered cyder.
Pugnosed, or Pugified. A person with a snub or turned up nose.
Pully hawly. To have a game at pully hawly; to romp with women.
Pull. To be pulled; to be arrested by a police officer. To have a pull is to have an advantage; generally where a person has some superiority at a game of chance or skill.
Pump. A thin shoe. To pump; to endeavour to draw a secret from any one without his perceiving it. Your pump is good, but your sucker is dry; said by one to a person who is attempting to pump him. Pumping was also a punishment for bailiffs who attempted to act in privileged places, such as the Mint, Temple, &c. It is also a piece of discipline administered to a pickpocket caught in the fact, when there is no pond at hand. To pump ship; to make water, and sometimes to vomit. Sea phrase.
Pump water. He was christened in pump water; commonly said of a person that has a red face.
Punch. A liquor called by foreigners Contradiction, from its being composed of spirits to make it strong, water to make it weak, lemon juice to make it sour, and sugar to make it sweet. Punch is also the name of the prince of puppets, the chief wit and support of a puppet-show. To punch it, is a cant term for running away. Punchable; old passable money, anno 1695. A girl that is ripe for man is called a punchable wench. Cobler’s Punch. Urine with a cinder in it.
Punk. A whore; also a soldier’s trull. See Trull.
Puny. Weak. A puny child; a weak little child. A puny stomach; a weak stomach. Puny, or puisne judge; the last made judge.
Pupil mongers. Persons at the universities who make it their business to instruct and superintend a number of pupils.
Puppy. An affected or conceited coxcomb.
Purblind. Dim-sighted.
Purl. Ale in which wormwood has been infused, or ale and bitters drunk warm.
Purl royal. Canary wine; with a dash of tincture of wormwood.
Purse proud. One that is vain of his riches.
Pursenets. Goods taken up at thrice their value, by young spendthrifts, upon trust.
Purser’s pump. A bassoon: from its likeness to a syphon, called a purser’s pump.
Pursy, or Pursive. Short-breathed, or foggy, from being over fat.
Pushing school. A fencing school; also a brothel.
Put. A country put; an ignorant awkward clown. To put upon any one; to attempt to impose on him, or to make him the but of the company.
Puzzle-cause. A lawyer who has a confused understanding.
Puzzle-text. An ignorant blundering parson.
Quack. An ungraduated ignorant pretender to skill in physic, a vender of nostrums.
Quack-salver. A mountebank: a seller of salves.
Quacking cheat. A duck.
Quag. Abbreviation of quagmire; marshy moorish around.
Quail-pipe. A woman’s tongue; also a device to take birds of that name by imitating their call. Quail pipe boots; boots resembling a quail pipe, from the number of plaits; they were much worn in the reign of Charles II.
Quakers. A religious sect so called from their agitations in preaching.
Quaking cheat. A calf or sheep.
Quandary. To be in a quandary: to be puzzled. Also one so over-gorged, as to be doubtful which he should do first, sh — e or spew. Some derive the term quandary from the French phrase qu’en dirai je? what shall I say of it? others from an Italian word signifying a conjuror’s circle.
Quarrel-picker. A glazier: from the small squares in casements, called Carreux, vulgarly quarrels.
Quarromes, or Quarron. A body. Cant.
Quartered. Divided into four parts; to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, is the sentence on traitors and rebels. Persons receiving part of the salary of an office from the holder of it, by virtue of an agreement with the donor, are said to be quartered on him. Soldiers billetted on a publican are likewise said to be quartered on him.
To quash. To suppress, annul or overthrow; vulgarly pronounced squash: they squashed the indictment.
Quean. A slut, or worthless woman, a strumpet.
Queen dick. To the tune of the life and death of Queen Dick. That happened in the reign of Queen Dick; i.e., never.
Queen street. A mart governed by his wife, is said to live in Queen street, or at the sign of the Queen’s Head.
Queer, or Quire. Base, roguish, bad, naught or worthless. How queerly the cull touts; how roguishly the fellow looks. It also means odd, uncommon. Cant.
Queer as dick’s hatband. Out of order, without knowing one’s disease.
To queer. To puzzle or confound. I have queered the old full bottom; i.e. I have puzzled the judge. To queer one’s ogles among bruisers; to darken one’s day lights.
Queer wedges. Large buckles.
Queer bail. Insolvent sharpers, who make a profession of bailing persons arrested: they are generally styled Jew bail, from that branch of business being chiefly carried on by the sons of Judah. The lowest sort of these, who borrow or hire clothes to appear in, are called Mounters, from their mounting particular dresses suitable to the occasion. Cant.
Queer birds. Rogues relieved from prison, and returned to their old trade.
Queer bit-makers. Coiners. Cant.
Queer bitch. An odd, out-of-the-way fellow.
Queer bluffer. The master of a public-house the resort of rogues and sharpers, a cut-throat inn or alehouse keeper.
Queer bung. An empty purse.
Queer checkers. Among strolling players, door-keepers who defraud the company, by falsely checking the number of people in the house.
Queer cole fencer. A putter off, or utterer, of bad money.
Queer cole maker. A maker of bad money.
Queer cove. A rogue. Cant.
Queer cuffin. A justice of the peace; also a churl.
Queer degen. An ordinary sword, brass or iron hilted.
Queer ken. A prison. Cant.
Queer kicks. A bad pair of breeches.
Queer mort. A diseased strumpet. Cant.
Queer nab. A felt hat, or other bad hat.
Queer plungers. Cheats who throw themselves into the water, in order that they may be taken up by their accomplices, who carry them to one of the houses appointed by the Humane Society for the recovery of drowned persons, where they are rewarded by the society with a guinea each; and the supposed drowned persons, pretending he was driven to that extremity by great necessity, also frequently sent away with a contribution in his pocket.
Queer prancer. A bad, worn-out, foundered horse; also a cowardly or faint-hearted horse-stealer.
Queer rooster. An informer that pretends to be sleeping, and thereby overhears the conversation of thieves in night cellars.
Queer street. Wrong. Improper. Contrary to one’s wish. It is queer street, a cant phrase, to signify that it is wrong or different to our wish.
Quitam. Aquitam horse; one that will both carry and draw. Law wit.
To quibble. To make subtle distinctions; also to play upon words.
Quick and nimble. More like a bear than a squirrel. Jeeringly said to any one moving sluggishly on a business or errand that requires dispatch.
Quid. The quantity of tobacco put into the mouth at one time. To quid tobacco; to chew tobacco. Quid est hoc? hoc est quid; a guinea. Half a quid; half a guinea. The swell tipped me fifty quid for the prad; the gentleman gave fifty pounds for the horse.
Quids. Cash, money. Can you tip me any quids? can you lend me some money?
Quiffing. Rogering. See To roger.
Quidnunc. A politician: from a character of that name in the farce of the Upholsterer.
Quill driver. A clerk, scribe, or hackney writer.
Quim. The private parts of a woman: perhaps from the Spanish quemar, to burn. (Cambridge) A piece’s furbelow.
Quinsey. Choked by a hempen quinsey; hanged.
Quipps. Girds, taunts, jests.
Quire, or Choir bird. A complete rogue, one that has sung in different choirs or cages, i.e. gaols. Cant.
Quirks and quillets. Tricks and devices. Quirks in law; subtle distinctions and evasions.
Quiz. A strange-looking fellow, an odd dog. Oxford.
Quod. Newgate, or any other prison. The dab’s in quod; the poor rogue is in prison.
Quota. Snack, share, part, proportion, or dividend. Tip me my quota; give me part of the winnings, booty, or plunder. Cant.
Rabbit. A Welch rabbit; bread and cheese toasted, i.e. a Welch rare bit. Rabbits were also a sort of wooden canns to drink out of, now out of use.
Rabbit catcher. A midwife.
Rabbit suckers. Young spendthrifts taking up goods on trust at great prices.
Rack rent. Rent strained to the utmost value. To lie at rack and manger; to be in great disorder.
Rackaback. A gormagon. See Gormagon.
Raffs. An appellation given by the gownsmen of the university of Oxford to the inhabitants of that place.
Rag. Bank notes. Money in general. The cove has no rag; the fellow has no money.
Rag. A farthing.
To rag. To abuse, and tear to rags the characters of the persons abused. She gave him a good ragging, or ragged him off heartily.
Rag carrier. An ensign.
Rag fair. An inspection of the linen and necessaries of a company of soldiers, commonly made by their officers on Mondays or Saturdays.
Rag water. Gin, or any other common dram: these liquors seldom failing to reduce those that drink them to rags.
Ragamuffin. A ragged fellow, one all in tatters, a tatterdemallion.
Rails. See Head rails. A dish of rails; a lecture, jobation, or scolding from a married woman to her husband.
Rainbow. Knight of the rainbow; a footman: from being commonly clothed in garments of different colours. A meeting of gentlemen, styled of the most ancient order of the rainbow, was advertised to be held at the Foppington’s Head, Moorfields.
Rainy day. To lay up something for a rainy day; to provide against a time of necessity or distress.
Rake, rakehell, or Rakeshame. A lewd, debauched fellow.
Ralph spooner. A fool.
Ram cat. A he cat.
Rammish. Rank. Rammish woman; a sturdy virago.
Rammer. The arm. The busnapper’s kenchin seized my rammer; i.e. the watchman laid hold of my arm. Cant.
To ramp. To snatch, or tear any thing forcibly from the person.
Ramshackled. Out of repair. A ramshackled house; perhaps a corruption of Ransacked, i.e. plundered.
Randle. A set of nonsensical verses, repeated in Ireland by schoolboys, and young people, who have been guilty of breaking wind backwards before any of their companions; if they neglect this apology, they are liable to certain kicks, pinches, and fillips, which are accompanied with divers admonitory couplets.
Randy. Obstreperous, unruly, rampant.
Rangling. Intriguing with a variety of women.
Rank. Stinking, rammish, ill-flavoured; also strong, great. A rank knave; a rank coward: perhaps the latter may allude to an ill savour caused by fear.
Rank rider. A highwayman.
Rantallion. One whose scrotum is so relaxed as to be longer than his penis, i.e. whose shot pouch is longer that the barrel of his piece.
Rantipole. A rude romping boy or girl; also a gadabout dissipated woman. To ride rantipole; the same as riding St. George. See St. george.
Rantum scantum. Playing at rantum scantum; making the beast with two backs.
To Rap To take a false oath; also to curse. He rapped out a volley; i.e. he swore a whole volley of oaths. To rap, means also to exchange or barter: a rap is likewise an Irish halfpenny. Rap on the knuckles; a reprimand.
Rapparees. Irish robbers, or outlaws, who in the time of Oliver Cromwell were armed with short weapons, called in Irish Rapiers, used for ripping persons up.
Rapper. A swinging great lie.
Raree shew men. Poor Savoyards, who subsist by shewing the magic lantern and marmots about London.
Rascal. A rogue or villain: a term borrowed from the chase; a rascal originally meaning a lean shabby deer, at the time of changing his horns, penis, &c. whence, in the vulgar acceptation, rascal is conceived to signify a man without genitals: the regular vulgar answer to this reproach, if uttered by a woman, is the offer of an ocular demonstration of the virility of the party so defamed. Some derive it from Rascaglione, an Italian word signifying a man. without testicles, or an eunuch.
Rat. A drunken man or woman taken up by the watch, and confined in the watch-house. Cant. To smell a rat; to suspect some intended trick, or unfair design.
Rats. Of these there are the following kinds: a black rat and a grey rat, a py-rat and a cu-rat.
Rattle. A dice-box. To rattle; to talk without consideration, also to move off or go away. To rattle one off; to rate or scold him.
Rattle-pate. A volatile, unsteady, or whimsical man or woman.
Rattle-traps. A contemptuous name for any curious portable piece of machinery, or philosophical apparatus.
Rattler. A coach. Rattle and prad; a coach and horses.
Rattling cove. A coachman. Cant.
Rattling mumpers. Beggars who ply coaches. Cant.
Rawhead and bloody bones. A bull beggar, or scarechild, with which foolish nurses terrify crying brats.
Reader. A pocket-book. Cant.
Reader merchants. Pickpockets, chiefly young Jews, who ply about the Bank to steal the pocket-books of persons who have just received their dividends there.
Ready. The ready rhino; money. Cant.
Rebus. A riddle or pun on a man’s name, expressed in sculpture or painting, thus: a bolt or arrow, and a tun, for Bolton; death’s head, and a ton, for Morton.
Receiver general. A prostitute.
Reckon. To reckon with one’s host; to make an erroneous judgment in one’s own favour. To cast-up one’s reckoning or accounts; to vomit.
To recruit. To get a fresh supply of money.
Recruiting service. Robbing on the highway.
Red fustian. Port wine.
Red lane. The throat. Gone down the red lane; swallowed.
Red ribbin. Brandy.
Red lattice. A public house.
Red letter day. A saint’s day or holiday, marked in the calendars with red letters. Red letter men; Roman Catholics: from their observation of the saint days marked in red letters.
Red rag. The tongue. Shut your potatoe trap, and give your red rag a holiday; i.e. shut your mouth, and let your tongue rest. Too much of the red rag (too much tongue).
Red sail-yard dockers. Buyers of stores stolen out of the royal yards and docks.
Red shank. A Scotch Highlander.
Regulars. Share of the booty. The coves cracked the swell’s crib, fenced the swag, and each cracksman napped his regular; some fellows broke open a gentleman’s house, and after selling the property which they had stolen, they divided the money between them.
Religious horse. One much given to prayer, or apt to be down upon his knees.
Religious painter. One who does not break the commandment which prohibits the making of the likeness of any thing in heaven or earth, or in the waters under the earth.
The relish. The sign of the Cheshire cheese.
Relish. Carnal connection with a woman.
Remedy critch. A chamber pot, or member mug.
Remember parson melham. Drink about: a Norfolk phrase.
Rendezvous. A place of meeting. The rendezvous of the beggars were, about the year 1638, according to the Bellman, St. Quinton’s, the Three Crowns in the Vintry, St. Tybs, and at Knapsbury: there were four barns within a mile of London. In Middlesex were four other harbours, called Draw the Pudding out of the Fire, the Cross Keys in Craneford parish, St. Julian’s in Isleworth parish, and the house of Pettie in Northall parish. In Kent, the King’s Barn near Dartford, and Ketbrooke near Blackheath.
Rep. A woman of reputation.
Repository. A lock-up or spunging-house, a gaol. Also livery stables where horses and carriages are sold by auction.
Rescounters. The time of settlement between the bulls and bears of Exchange-alley, when the losers must pay their differences, or become lame ducks, and waddle out of the Alley.
Resurrection men. Persons employed by the students in anatomy to steal dead bodies out of church-yards.
Reverence. An ancient custom, which obliges any person easing himself near the highway or foot-path, on the word Reverence being given him by a passenger, to take off his hat with his teeth, and without moving from his station to throw it over his head, by which it frequently falls into the excrement; this was considered as a punishment for the breach of delicacy, A person refusing to obey this law, might be pushed backwards. Hence, perhaps, the term, Sir-reverence.
Reversed. A man set by bullies on his head, that his money may fall out of his breeches, which they afterwards by accident pick up. See Hoisting.
Review of the black cuirassiers. A visitation of the clergy. See Crow fair.
Rhino. Money. Cant.
Rib. A wife: an allusion to our common mother Eve, made out of Adam’s rib. A crooked rib: a cross-grained wife.
Ribaldry. Vulgar abusive language, such as was spoken by ribalds. Ribalds were originally mercenary soldiers who travelled about, serving any master far pay, but afterwards degenerated into a mere banditti.
Ribbin. Money. The ribbin runs thick; i.e. there is plenty of money. Cant. Blue ribbin. Gin. The cull lushes the blue ribbin; the silly fellow drinks common gin.
To Ribroast. To beat: I’ll ribroast him to his heart’s content.
Rich face, or Nose. A red pimpled, face.
Richaud snary. A dictionary. A country lad, having been reproved for calling persons by their christian names, being sent by his master to borrow a dictionary, thought to shew his breeding by asking for a Richard Snary.
Rider. A person who receives part of the salary of a place or appointment from the ostensible occupier, by virtue of an agreement with the donor, or great man appointing. The rider is said to be quartered upon the possessor, who often has one or more persons thus riding behind him. See Quartered.
Ridge. A guinea. Ridge cully; a goldsmith. Cant.
Riding st. george. The woman uppermost in the amorous congress, that is, the dragon upon St. George. This is said to be the way to get a bishop.
Riding skimmington. A ludicrous cavalcade, in ridicule of a man beaten by his wife. It consists of a man riding behind a woman, with his face to the horse’s tail, holding a distaff in his hand, at which he seems to work, the woman all the while beating him with a ladle; a smock displayed on a staff is carried before them as an emblematical standard, denoting female superiority: they are accompanied by what is called the Rough music, that is, frying-pans, bulls horns, marrow-bones and cleavers, &c. A procession of this kind is admirably described by Butler in his Hudibras. He rode private, i.e. was a private trooper.
Riff raff. Low vulgar persons, mob, tag-rag and bob-tail.
Rig. Fun, game, diversion, or trick. To run one’s rig upon any particular person; to make him a butt. I am up to your rig; I am a match for your tricks.
Rigging. Clothing. I’ll unrig the bloss; I’ll strip the wench. Rum Rigging; fine clothes. The cull has rum rigging, let’s ding him and mill him, and pike; the fellow has good clothes, let’s knock him down, rob him, and scour off, i.e. run away.
Right. All right! A favourite expression among thieves, to signify that all is as they wish, or proper for their purpose. All right, hand down the jemmy; every thing is in proper order, give me the crow.
Rigmarole. Roundabout, nonsensical. He told a long rigmarole story.
Ring. Money procured by begging: beggars so called it from its ringing when thrown to them. Also a circle formed for boxers, wrestlers, and cudgel-players, by a man styled Vinegar; who, with his hat before his eyes, goes round the circle, striking at random with his whip to prevent the populace from crowding in.
To ring a peal. To scold; chiefly applied to women. His wife rung him a fine peal!
Ring the changes. When a person receives silver in change to shift some good shillings and put bad ones in their place. The person who gave the change is then requested to give good shillings for these bad ones.
Rip. A miserable rip; a poor, lean, worn-out horse. A shabby mean fellow.
Rippons. Spurs: Rippon is famous for a manufactory of spurs both for men and fighting cocks.
Roaratorios and uproars. Oratorios and operas.
Roaring boy. A noisy, riotous fellow.
Roarer. A broken-winded horse.
Roaring trade. A quick trade.
To roast. To arrest. I’ll roast the dab; I’ll arrest the rascal. — Also to jeer, ridicule, or banter. He stood the roast; he was the butt. — Roast meat clothes; Sunday or holiday-clothes. To cry roast meat; to boast of one’s situation. To rule the roast; to be master or paramount.
Roast and boiled. A nick name for the Life Guards, who are mostly substantial house-keepers; and eat daily of roast and boiled.
Robert’s men. The third old rank of the canting crew, mighty thieves, like Robin Hood.
Roby douglass, with one eye and a stinking breath. The breech.
Rochester portion. Two torn smocks, and what nature gave.
Rocked. He was rocked in a stone kitchen; a saying meant to convey the idea that the person spoken of is a fool, his brains having been disordered by the jumbling of his cradle.
Roger. A portmanteau; also a man’s yard. Cant.
Roger, or Tib of the buttery. A goose. Cant. Jolly Roger; a flag hoisted by pirates.
To roger. To bull, or lie with a woman; from the name of Roger being frequently given to a bull.
Rogues. The fourth order of canters. A rogue in grain; a great rogue, also a corn chandler. A rogue in spirit; a distiller or brandy merchant.
Rogum pogum, or Dragrum pogram. Goat’s beard, eaten for asparagus; so called by the ladies who gather cresses, &c. who also deal in this plant.
Romboyles. Watch and ward. Romboyled; sought after with a warrant.
Rome mort. A queen.
Romeville. London. Cant.
Romp. A forward wanton girl, a tomrig. Grey, in his notes to Shakespeare, derives it from arompo, an animal found in South Guinea, that is a man eater. See Hoyden.
Rook. A cheat: probably from the thievish disposition of the birds of that name. Also the cant name for a crow used in house-breaking. To rook; to cheat, particularly at play.
Room. She lets out her fore room and lies backwards: saying of a woman suspected of prostitution.
Roost lay. Stealing poultry.
Ropes. Upon the high ropes; elated, in high spirits, cock-a-hoop.
Rose. Under the rose: privately or secretly. The rose was, it is said, sacred to Harpocrates, the God of silence, and therefore frequently placed in the ceilings of rooms destined for the receiving of guests; implying, that whatever was transacted there, should not be made public.
Rosy gills. One with a sanguine or fresh-coloured countenance.
Rotan. A coach, cart, or other wheeled carriage.
Rot gut. Small beer; called beer-a-bumble — will burst one’s guts before it will make one tumble.
Rovers. Pirates, vagabonds.
Rough. To lie rough; to lie all night in one’s clothes: called also roughing it. Likewise to sleep on the bare deck of a ship, when the person is commonly advised to chuse the softest plank.
Rough music. Saucepans, frying-paps, poker and tongs, marrow-bones and cleavers, bulls horns, &c. beaten upon and sounded in ludicrous processions.
Rouleau. A number of guineas, from twenty to fifty or more, wrapped up in paper, for the more ready circulation at gaming-tables: sometimes they are inclosed in ivory boxes, made to hold exactly 20, 50, or 100 guineas.
Round dealing. Plain, honest dealing.
Roundheads. A term of reproach to the puritans and partizans of Oliver Cromwell, and the Rump Parliament, who it is said made use of a bowl as a guide to trim their hair.
Round robin. A mode of signing remonstrances practised by sailors on board the king’s ships, wherein their names are written in a circle, so that it cannot be discovered who first signed it, or was, in other words, the ringleader.
Round sum. A considerable sum.
Round about. An instrument used in housebreaking. This instrument has not been long in use. It will cut a round piece about five inches in diameter out of a shutter or door.
Round mouth. The fundament. Brother round mouth, speaks; he has let a fart.
Rout. A modern card meeting at a private house; also an order from the Secretary at War, directing the march and quartering of soldiers.
Row. A disturbance; a term used by the students at Cambridge.
Row. To row in the same boat; to be embarked in the same scheme.
Rowland. To give a Rowland for an Oliver; to give an equivalent. Rowland and Oliver were two knights famous in romance: the wonderful achievements of the one could only be equalled by those of the other.
Royal scamps. Highwaymen who never rob any but rich persons, and that without ill treating them. See Scamp.
Royal stag society. Was held every Monday evening, at seven o’clock, at the Three tuns, near the Hospital Gate, Newgate-street.
Royster. A rude boisterous fellow; also a hound that opens on a false scent.
To rub. To run away. Don’t rub us to the whit; don’t send us to Newgate. Cant. — To rub up; to refresh: to rub up one’s memory. A rub: an impediment. A rubber; the best two out of three. To win a rubber: to win two games out of three.
Ruby faced. Red-faced.
Ruff. An ornament formerly worn by men and women round their necks. Wooden ruff; the pillory.
Ruffian. The devil. Cant. — May the ruffian nab the cuffin queer, and let the harmanbeck trine with his kinchins about his colquarren; may the Devil take the justice, and let the constable be hanged with his children about his neck. The ruffian cly thee; the Devil take thee. Ruffian cook ruffian, who scalded the Devil in his feathers; a saying of a bad cook. Ruffian sometimes also means, a justice.
Ruffles. Handcuffs. Cant.
Rufflers. The first rank of canters; also notorious rogues pretending to be maimed soldiers or sailors.
Ruffmans. The woods, hedges, or bushes. Cant.
Rug. It is all rug; it is all right and safe, the game is secure. Cant.
Rug. Asleep. The whole gill is safe at rug; the people of the house are fast asleep.
Rum. Fine, good, valuable.
Rum beck. A justice of the peace. Cant.
Rum bite. A clever cheat, a clean trick.
Rum bleating cheat. A fat wether sheep. Cant.
Rum blowen. A handsome wench. Cant.
Rum bluffer. A jolly host. Cant.
Rum bob. A young apprentice; also a sharp trick.
Rum booze. Wine, or any other good liquor. Rum boozing welts; bunches of grapes. Cant.
Rum bubber. A dexterous fellow at stealing silver tankards from inns and taverns.
Rum bugher. A valuable dog. Cant.
Rum bung. A full purse. Cant.
Rum chub. Among butchers, a customer easily imposed on, as to the quality and price of meat. Cant.
Rum chant. A song.
Rum clout. A fine silk, cambric, or holland handkerchief. Cant.
Rum cod. A good purse of gold. Cant.
Rum cole. New money, or medals.
Rum cove. A dexterous or clever rogue.
Rum cull. A rich fool, easily cheated, particularly by his mistress.
Rum degen. A handsome sword. Cant.
Rum dell. See Rum doxy.
Rum diver. A dextrous pickpocket. Cant.
Rum doxy. A fine wench. Cant.
Rum drawers. Silk, or other fine stockings. Cant.
Rum dropper. A vintner. Cant.
Rum dubber. An expert picklock.
Rum duke. A jolly handsome fellow; also an odd eccentric fellow; likewise the boldest and stoutest fellows lately among the Alsatians, Minters, Savoyards, and other inhabitants of privileged districts, sent to remove and guard the goods of such bankrupts as intended to take sanctuary in those places. Cant.
Rum file. See Rum diver.
Rum fun. A sharp trick. Cant.
Rum gaggers. Cheats who tell wonderful stories of their sufferings at sea, or when taken by the Algerines, Cant.
Rum ghelt. See Rum cole. Cant.
Rum glymmer. King or chief of the link-boys. Cant.
Rum kicks. Breeches of gold or silver brocade, or richly laced with gold or silver. Cant.
Rum mawnd. One that counterfeits a fool. Cant.
Rum mort. A queen, or great lady. Cant.
Rum nab. A good hat.
Rum nantz. Good French brandy. Cant.
Rum ned. A very rich silly fellow. Cant.
Rum pad. The highway. Cant.
Rum padders. Highwaymen well mounted and armed. Cant.
Rum peepers. Fine looking-glasses. Cant.
Rum prancer. A fine horse. Cant.
Rum quids. A great booty. Cant.
Rum ruff peck. Westphalia ham. Cant.
Rum snitch. A smart fillip on the nose.
Rum squeeze. Much wine, or good liquor, given among fiddlers. Cant.
Rum tilter. See Rum degen.
Rum tol. See Rum degen.
Rum topping. A rich commode, or woman’s head-dress.
Rum ville. See Romeville.
Rum wiper. See Rum clout.
Rumbo. Rum, water, and sugar; also a prison.
Rumboyle. A ward or watch.
Rumbumtious. Obstreperous.
Rumford. To ride to Rumford to have one’s backside new bottomed: i.e. to have a pair of new leather breeches. Rumford was formerly a famous place for leather breeches. A like saying is current in Norfolk and Suffolk, of Bungay, and for the same reason. — Rumford lion; a calf. See Essex lion.
Rump. To rump any one; to turn the back to him: an evolution sometimes used at court. Rump and a dozen; a rump of beef and a dozen of claret; an Irish wager, called also buttock and trimmings. Rump and kidney men; fiddlers that play at feasts, fairs, weddings, &c. and live chiefly on the remnants.
Rumpus. A riot, quarrel, or confusion.
Run goods. A maidenhead, being a commodity never entered.
Running horse, or Nag. A clap, or gleet.
Running smobble. Snatching goods off a counter, and throwing them to an accomplice, who brushes off with them.
Running stationers. Hawker of newspapers, trials, and dying speeches.
Runt. A short squat man or woman: from the small cattle called Welsh runts.
Rushers. Thieves who knock at the doors of great houses in London, in summer time, when the families are gone out of town, and on the door being opened by a woman, rush in and rob the house; also housebreakers who enter lone houses by force.
Russian coffee-house. The Brown Bear in Bow-street, Covent Garden, a house of call for thief-takers and runners of the Bow street justices.
Rusty. Out of use, To nab the rust; to be refractory; properly applied to a restive horse, and figuratively to the human species. To ride rusty; to be sullen; called also to ride grub.
Rusty guts. A blunt surly fellow: a jocular misnomer of Resticus.
Rutting. Copulating. Rutting time; the season, when deer go to rut.
Sacheverel. The iron door, or blower, to the mouth of a stove: from a divine of that name, who made himself famous for blowing the coals of dissension in the latter end of the reign of queen Ann.
Sack. A pocket. To buy the sack: to get drunk. To dive into the sack; to pick a pocket. To break a bottle in an empty sack; a bubble bet, a sack with a bottle in it not being an empty sack.
Sad dog. A wicked debauched fellow; one of the ancient family of the sad dogs. Swift translates it into Latin by the words Tristis canis.
Saddle. To saddle the spit; to give a dinner or supper. To saddle one’s nose; to wear spectacles. To saddle a place or pension; to oblige the holder to pay a certain portion of his income to some one nominated by the donor. Saddle sick: galled with riding, having lost leather.
Saint. A piece of spoilt timber in a coach-maker’s shop, like a saint, devoted to the flames.
Saint geoffrey’s day. Never, there being no saint of that name: tomorrow-come-never, when two Sundays come together.
Saint luke’s bird. An ox; that Evangelist being always represented with an ox.
Saint monday. A holiday most religiously observed by journeymen shoemakers, and other inferior mechanics. A profanation of that day, by working, is punishable by a fine, particularly among the gentle craft. An Irishman observed, that this saint’s anniversary happened every week.
Sal. An abbreviation of Salivation. In a high sal; in the pickling tub, or under a salivation.
Salesman’s dog. A barker. Vide Barker.
Salmon-gundy. Apples, onions, veal or chicken, and pickled herrings, minced fine, and eaten with oil and vinegar; some derive the name of this mess from the French words Selon mon goust, because the proportions of the different ingredients are regulated by the palate of the maker; others say it bears the name of the inventor, who was a rich Dutch merchant; but the general and most probable opinion is, that it was invented by the countess of Salmagondi, one of the ladies of Mary de Medicis, wife of King Henry IV. of France, and by her brought into France.
Salmon or Salamon. The beggars’sacrament or oath.
Salt. Lecherous. A salt bitch: a bitch at heat, or proud bitch. Salt eel; a rope’s end, used to correct boys, &c. at sea: you shall have a salt eel for supper.
Sammy. Foolish. Silly.
Sandwich. Ham, dried tongue, or some other salted meat, cut thin and put between two slices of bread and butter: said to be a favourite morsel with the Earl of Sandwich.
Sandy pate. A red haired man or woman.
Sangaree. Rack punch was formerly so called in bagnios.
Sank, sanky, or Centipee’s. A taylor employed by clothiers in making soldier’s clothing.
Sapscull. A simple fellow. Sappy; foolish.
Satyr. A libidinous fellow: those imaginary things are by poets reported to be extremely salacious.
Sauce box. A term of familiar raillery, signifying a bold or forward person.
Save-all. A kind of candlestick used by our frugal forefathers, to burn snuffs and ends of candles. Figuratively, boys running about gentlemen’s houses in Ireland, who are fed on broken meats that would otherwise be wasted, also a miser.
Saunterer. An idle, lounging fellow; by some derived from Sans terre; applied to persons, who, having no lands or home, lingered and loitered about. Some derive it from persons devoted to the Holy Land, Saint terre, who loitered about, as waiting for company.
Saw. An old saw; an ancient proverbial saying.
Sawny or Sandy. A general nick-name for a Scotchman, as Paddy is for an Irishman, or Taffy for a Welchman; Sawny or Sandy being the familiar abbreviation or diminution of Alexander, a very favourite name among the Scottish nation.
Scab. A worthless man or woman.
Scald miserables. A set of mock masons, who, A.D. 1744, made a ludicrous procession in ridicule of the Free Masons.
Scalder. A clap. The cull has napped a scalder; the fellow has got a clap.
Scaly. Mean. Sordid. How scaly the cove is; how mean the fellow is.
Scaly fish. An honest, rough, blunt sailor.
Scamp. A highwayman. Royal scamp: a highwayman who robs civilly. Royal foot scamp; a footpad who behaves in like manner.
To scamper. To run away hastily.
Scandal broth. Tea.
Scandal proof. One who has eaten shame and drank after it, or would blush at being ashamed.
Scapegallows. One who deserves and has narrowly escaped the gallows, a slip-gibbet, one for whom the gallows is said to groan.
Scapegrace. A wild dissolute fellow.
Scarce. To make one’s self scarce; to steal away.
Scarlet horse. A high red, hired or hack horse: a pun on the word Hired.
Scavey. Sense, knowledge. “Massa, me no scavey;” master, I don’t know (Negro language) perhaps from the French Scavoir.
Scheme. A party of pleasure.
Schism monger. A dissenting teacher.
Schism shop. A dissenting meeting house.
A scold’s cure. A coffin. The blowen has napped the scold’s cure; the bitch is in her coffin.
School of venus. A bawdy-house.
School butter. Cobbing, whipping.
Sconce. The head, probably as being the fort and citadel of a man: from Sconce, an old name for a fort, derived from a Dutch word of the same signification; To build a sconce: a military term for bilking one’s quarters. To sconce or skonce; to impose a fine. Academical phrase.
Scot. A young bull.
Scotch greys. Lice. The headquarters of the Scotch greys: the head of a man full of large lice.
Scotch pint. A bottle containing two quarts.
Scotch bait. A halt and a resting on a stick, as practised by pedlars.
Scotch chocolate. Brimstone and milk.
Scotch fiddle. The itch.
Scotch mist. A sober soaking rain; a Scotch mist will wet an Englishman to the skin.
Scotch warming pan. A wench; also a fart.
Scoundrel. A man void of every principle of honour.
Scour. To scour or score off; to run away: perhaps from Score; i.e. full speed, or as fast as legs would carry one. Also to wear: chiefly applied to irons, fetters, or handcuffs, because wearing scours them. He will scour the darbies; he will be in fetters. To scour the cramp ring; to wear bolts or fetters, from which, as well as from coffin hinges, rings supposed to prevent the cramp are made.
Scourers. Riotous bucks, who amuse themselves with breaking windows, beating the watch, and assaulting every person they meet: called scouring the streets.
Scout. A college errand-boy at Oxford, called a gyp at Cambridge. Also a watchman or a watch. Cant.
Scragged. Hanged.
Scraggy. Lean, bony.
Scragg’em fair. A public execution.
Scrap. A villainous scheme or plan. He whiddles the whole scrap; he discovers the whole plan or scheme.
Scrape. To get into a scrape; to be involved in a disagreeable business.
Scraper. A fiddler; also one who scrapes plates for mezzotinto prints.
Scraping. A mode of expressing dislike to a person, or sermon, practised at Oxford by the students, in scraping their feet against the ground during the preachment; frequently done to testify their disapprobation of a proctor who has been, as they think, too rigorous.
Scratch. Old Scratch; the Devil: probably from the long and sharp claws with which he is frequently delineated.
Scratch land. Scotland.
Scratch platter, or Taylor’s ragout. Bread sopt in the oil and vinegar in which cucumbers have been sliced.
Screen. A bank note. Queer screens; forged bank notes. The cove was twisted for smashing queer screens; the fellow was hanged for uttering forged bank notes.
Screw. A skeleton key used by housebreakers to open a lock. To stand on the screw signifies that a door is not bolted, but merely locked.
To screw. To copulate. A female screw; a common prostitute. To screw one up; to exact upon one in a bargain or reckoning.
Screw jaws. A wry-mouthed man or woman.
Scrip. A scrap or slip of paper. The cully freely blotted the scrip, and tipt me forty hogs; the man freely signed the bond, and gave me forty shillings. — Scrip is also a Change Alley phrase for the last loan or subscription. What does scrip go at for the next rescounters? what does scrip sell for delivered at the next day of settling?
Scroby. To be tipt the scroby; to be whipt before the justices.
Scrope. A farthing. Cant.
Scrub. A low mean fellow, employed in all sorts of dirty work.
Scrubbado. The itch.
Scull. A head of a house, or master of a college, at the universities.
Scull, or Sculler. A boat rowed by one man with a light kind of oar, called a scull; also a one-horse chaise or buggy.
Scull thatcher. A peruke-maker.
Scum. The riff-raff, tag-rag, and bob-tail, or lowest order of people.
Scut. The tail of a hare or rabbit; also that of a woman.
Scuttle. To scuttle off; to run away. To scuttle a ship; to make a hole in her bottom in order to sink her.
Sea crab. A sailor.
Sea lawyer. A shark.
Sealer, or Squeeze wax. One ready to give bond and judgment for goods or money.
Secret. He has been let into the secret: he has been cheated at gaming or horse-racing. He or she is in the grand secret, i.e. dead.
Seedy. Poor, pennyless, stiver-cramped, exhausted.
Sees. The eyes. See Daylights.
Served. Found guilty. Convicted. Ordered to be punished or transported. To serve a cull out; to beat a man soundly.
Seraglio. A bawdy-house; the name of that part of the Great Turk’s palace where the women are kept.
Send. To drive or break in. Hand down the Jemmy and send it in; apply the crow to the door, and drive it in.
Set. A dead set: a concerted scheme to defraud a person by gaming.
Setter. A bailiff’s follower, who, like a setting dog follows and points the game for his master. Also sometimes an exciseman.
To settle. To knock down or stun any one. We settled the cull by a stroke on his nob; we stunned the fellow by a blow on the head.
Seven-sided animal. A one-eyed man or woman, each having a right side and a left side, a fore side and a back side, an outside, an inside, and a blind side.
Shabbaroon. An ill-dressed shabby fellow; also a mean-spirited person.
Shaftsbury. A gallon pot full of wine, with a cock.
To Shag. To copulate. He is but bad shag; he is no able woman’s man.
Shag-bag, or Shake-bag. A poor sneaking fellow; a man of no spirit: a term borrowed from the cock-pit.
Shake. To shake one’s elbow; to game with dice. To shake a cloth in the wind; to be hanged in chains.
Shake. To draw any thing from the pocket. He shook the swell of his fogle; he robbed the gentleman of his silk handkerchief.
Shallow pate. A simple fellow.
Shallow. a whip hat, so called from the want of depth in the crown. Lilly shallow, a White Whip hat.
Sham. A cheat, or trick. To cut a sham; to cheat or deceive. Shams; false sleeves to put on over a dirty shirt, or false sleeves with ruffles to put over a plain one. To sham Abram; to counterfeit sickness.
To shamble. To walk awkwardly. Shamble-legged: one that walks wide, and shuffles about his feet.
Shanker. A venereal wart.
Shanks. Legs, or gams.
Shanks naggy. To ride shanks naggy: to travel on foot. Scotch.
Shannon. A river in Ireland: persons dipped in that river are perfectly and for ever cured of bashfulness.
Shapes. To shew one’s shapes; to be stript, or made peel, at the whipping-post.
Shappo, or Shap. A hat: corruption of Chapeau. Cant.
Shark. A sharper: perhaps from his preying upon any one he can lay hold of. Also a custom-house officer, or tide-waiter. Sharks; the first order of pickpockets. Bow-street term, A.D. 1785.
Sharp. Subtle, acute, quick-witted; also a sharper or cheat, in opposition to a flat, dupe, or gull. Sharp’s the word and quick’s the motion with him; said of any one very attentive to his own interest, and apt to take all advantages. Sharp set; hungry.
Sharper. A cheat, one that lives by his wits. Sharpers tools; a fool and false dice.
Shaver. A cunning shaver; a subtle fellow, one who trims close, an acute cheat. A young shaver; a boy. Sea term.
Shavings. The clippings of money.
She house. A house where the wife rules, or, as the term is, wears the breeches.
She lion. A shilling.
She napper. A woman thief-catcher; also a bawd or pimp.
Sheep’s head. Like a sheep’s head, all jaw; saying of a talkative man or woman.
Sheepish. Bashful. A sheepish fellow; a bashful or shamefaced fellow. To cast a sheep’s eye at any thing; to look wishfully at it.
Sheepskin fiddler. A drummer.
Shelf. On the shelf, i.e. pawned.
Sheriff’s journeyman. The hangman.
Sheriff’s ball. An execution. To dance at the sheriff’s ball, and loll out one’s tongue at the company; to be hanged, or go to rest in a horse’s night-cap, i.e. a halter.
Sheriff’s bracelets. Handcuffs.
Sheriff’s hotel. A prison.
Sheriff’s picture frame. The gallows.
To sherk. To evade or disappoint: to sherk one’s duty.
To sherry. To run away: sherry off.
Shifting. Shuffling. Tricking. Shifting cove; i.e. a person who lives by tricking.
Shifting ballast. A term used by sailors, to signify soldiers, passengers, or any landsmen on board.
Shillaley. An oaken sapling, or cudgel: from a wood of that name famous for its oaks. Irish.
Shilly-shally. Irresolute. To stand shilly-shally; to hesitate, or stand in doubt.
Shindy. A dance. Sea phrase.
Shine. It shines like a shitten barn door.
Ship shape. Proper, as it ought to be. Sea phrase,
Sh-t sack. A dastardly fellow: also a non-conformist. This appellation is said to have originated from the following story:— After the restoration, the laws against the non-conformists were extremely severe. They sometimes met in very obscure places: and there is a tradition that one of their congregations were assembled in a barn, the rendezvous of beggars and other vagrants, where the preacher, for want of a ladder or tub, was suspended in a sack fixed to the beam. His discourse that day being on the last judgment, he particularly attempted to describe the terrors of the wicked at the sounding of the trumpet, on which a trumpeter to a puppet-show, who had taken refuge in that barn, and lay hid under the straw, sounded a charge. The congregation, struck with the utmost consternation, fled in an instant from the place, leaving their affrighted teacher to shift for himself. The effects of his terror are said to have appeared at the bottom of the sack, and to have occasioned that opprobrious appellation by which the non-conformists were vulgarly distinguished.
Sh-t-ng through the teeth. Vomiting. Hark ye, friend, have you got a padlock on your a-se, that you sh-te through your teeth? Vulgar address to one vomiting.
Shod all round. A parson who attends a funeral is said to be shod all round, when he receives a hat-band, gloves, and scarf: many shoeings being only partial.
Shoemaker’s stocks. New, or strait shoes. I was in the shoemaker’s stocks; i.e. had on a new pair of shoes that were too small for me.
To shoole. To go skulking about.
To shoot the cat. To vomit from excess of liquor; called also catting.
Shop. A prison. Shopped; confined, imprisoned.
Shoplifter. One that steals whilst pretending to purchase goods in a shop.
Short-heeled wench. A girl apt to fall on her back.
Shot. To pay one’s shot; to pay one’s share of a reckoning. Shot betwixt wind and water; poxed or clapped.
Shotten herring. A thin meagre fellow.
To Shove the tumbler. To be whipped at the cart’s tail.
Shove in the mouth. A dram.
Shovel. To be put to bed with a shovel; to be buried. He or she was fed with a fire-shovel; a saying of a person with a large mouth.
Shoulder feast. A dinner given after a funeral, to those who have carried the corpse.
Shoulder clapper. A bailiff, or member of the catch club. Shoulder-clapped; arrested.
Shoulder sham. A partner to a file. See File.
Shred. A taylor.
Shrimp. A little diminutive person.
To shuffle. To make use of false pretences, or unfair shifts. A shuffling fellow; a slippery shifting fellow.
Shy cock. One who keeps within doors for fear of bailiffs.
Sice. Sixpence.
Sick as a horse. Horses are said to be extremely sick at their stomachs, from being unable to relieve themselves by vomiting. Bracken, indeed, in his Farriery, gives an instance of that evacuation being procured, but by a means which he says would make the Devil vomit. Such as may have occasion to administer an emetic either to the animal or the fiend, may consult his book for the recipe.
Side pocket. He has as much need of a wife as a dog of a side pocket; said of a weak old debilitated man. He wants it as much as a dog does a side pocket; a simile used for one who desires any thing by no means necessary.
Sidledywry. Crooked.
Sign of a house to let. A widow’s weeds.
Sign of the: Five shillings. The crown.
Ten shillings. The two crowns.
Fifteen shillings. The three crowns.
Silence. To silence a man; to knock him down, or stun him. Silence in the court, the cat is pissing; a gird upon any one requiring silence unnecessarily.
Silent flute. See Pego, sugar stick, &c.
Silk snatchers. Thieves who snatch hoods or bonnets from persons walking in the streets.
Silver laced. Replete with lice. The cove’s kickseys are silver laced: the fellow’s breeches are covered with lice.
Simeonites, (at Cambridge,) the followers of the Rev. Charles Simeon, fellow of King’s College, author of Skeletons of Sermons, and preacher at Trinity church; they are in fact rank methodists.
Simkin. A foolish fellow.
Simon. Sixpence. Simple Simon: a natural, a silly fellow; Simon Suck-egg, sold his wife for an addle duck-egg.
To simper. To smile: to simper like a firmity kettle.
Simpleton. Abbreviation of simple Tony or Anthony, a foolish fellow.
Simples. Physical herbs; also follies. He must go to Battersea, to be cut for the simples — Battersea is a place famous for its garden grounds, some of which were formerly appropriated to the growing of simples for apothecaries, who at a certain season used to go down to select their stock for the ensuing year, at which time the gardeners were said to cut their simples; whence it became a popular joke to advise young people to go to Battersea, at that time, to have their simples cut, or to be cut for the simples.
To sing. To call out; the coves sing out beef; they call out stop thief.
To sing small. To be humbled, confounded, or abashed, to have little or nothing to say for one’sself.
Single peeper. A person having but one eye.
Singleton. A very foolish fellow; also a particular kind of nails.
Singleton. A corkscrew, made by a famous cutler of that name, who lived in a place called Hell, in Dublin; his screws are remarkable for their excellent temper.
Sir john. The old title for a country parson: as Sir John of Wrotham, mentioned by Shakespeare.
Sir john barleycorn. Strong beer.
Sir loin. The sur, or upper loin.
Sir reverence. Human excrement, a t — d.
Sir timothy. One who, from a desire of being the head of the company, pays the reckoning, or, as the term is, stands squire. See Squire.
Sitting breeches. One who stays late in company, is said to have his sitting breeches on, or that he will sit longer than a hen.
Six and eight-pence. An attorney, whose fee on several occasions is fixed at that sum.
Six and tips. Whisky and small beer. Irish.
Sixes and sevens. Left at sixes and sevens: i.e. in confusion; commonly said of a room where the furniture, &c. is scattered about; or of a business left unsettled.
Size of ale. Half a pint. Size of bread and cheese; a certain quantity. Sizings: Cambridge term for the college allowance from the buttery, called at Oxford battles.
To Size. (Cambridge) To sup at one’s own expence. If a Man asks you to Sup, he treats you; if to Size, you pay for what you eat — liquors Only being provided by the inviter.
Sizar (Cambridge). Formerly students who came to the University for purposes of study and emolument. But at present they are just as gay and dissipated as their fellow collegians. About fifty years ago they were on a footing with the servitors at Oxford, but by the exertions of the present Bishop of Llandaff, who was himself a sizar, they were absolved from all marks of inferiority or of degradation. The chief difference at present between them and the pensioners, consists in the less amount of their college fees. The saving thus made induces many extravagant fellows to become sizars, that they may have more money to lavish on their dogs, pieces, &c.
Skew. A cup, or beggar’s wooden dish.
Skewvow, or All askew. Crooked, inclining to one side.
Skin. In a bad skin; out of temper, in an ill humour. Thin-skinned: touchy, peevish.
Skin. A purse. Frisk the skin of the stephen; empty the money out of the purse. Queer skin; an empty purse.
Skin flint. An avaricious man or woman,
Skink. To skink, is to wait on the company, ring the bell, stir the fire, and snuff the candles; the duty of the youngest officer in the military mess. See Boots.
Skins. A tanner.
Skip jacks. Youngsters that ride horses on sale, horse-dealers boys. Also a plaything made for children with the breast bone of a goose.
Skip kennel. A footman.
Skipper. A barn. Cant. — Also the captain of a Dutch vessel.
To skit. To wheedle. Cant.
Skit. A joke. A satirical hint.
Skrip. See Scrip.
Skulker. A soldier who by feigned sickness, or other pretences, evades his duty; a sailor who keeps below in time of danger; in the civil line, one who keeps out of the way, when any work is to be done. To skulk; to hide one’s self, to avoid labour or duty.
Sky blue. Gin.
Sky farmers. Cheats who pretend they were farmers in the isle of Sky, or some other remote place, and were ruined by a flood, hurricane, or some such public calamity: or else called sky farmers from their farms being In nubibus, ‘in the clouds.’
Sky parlour. The garret, or upper story.
Slabbering bib. A parson or lawyer’s band.
Slag. A slack-mettled fellow, one not ready to resent an affront.
Slam. A trick; also a game at whist lost without scoring one. To slam to a door; to shut it with violence.
Slamkin. A female sloven, one whose clothes seem hung on with a pitch-fork, a careless trapes.
Slang. A fetter. Double slanged; double ironed. Now double slanged into the cells for a crop he is knocked down; he is double ironed in the condemned cells, and ordered to be hanged.
Slang. Cant language.
Slap-bang shop. A petty cook’s shop, where there is no credit given, but what is had must be paid Down with the Ready slap-bang, i.e. immediately. This is a common appellation for a night cellar frequented by thieves, and sometimes for a stage coach or caravan.
Slapdash. Immediately, instantly, suddenly.
Slasher. A bullying, riotous fellow. Irish.
Slat. Half a crown. Cant.
Slate. A sheet. Cant.
Slater’s pan. The gaol at Kingston in Jamaica: Slater is the deputy Provost-marshal.
Slattern. A woman sluttishly negligent in her dress.
Sleeping partner. A partner in a trade, or shop, who lends his name and money, for which he receives a share of the profit, without doing any part of the business.
Sleepy. Much worn: the cloth of your coat must be extremely sleepy, for it has not had a nap this long time.
Sleeveless errand. A fool’s errand, in search of what it is impossible to find.
Slice. To take a slice; to intrigue, particularly with a married woman, because a slice off a cut loaf is not missed.
Slipgibbet. See Scapegallows.
Slippery chap. One on whom there can be no dependance, a shuffling fellow.
Slipslops. Tea, water-gruel, or any innocent beverage taken medicinally.
Slipslopping. Misnaming and misapplying any hard word; from the character of Mrs. Slipslop, in Fielding’s Joseph Andrews.
Slop. Tea. How the blowens lush the slop. How the wenches drink tea!
Slops. Wearing apparel and bedding used by seamen.
Slop seller. A dealer in those articles, who keeps a slop shop.
Slouch. A stooping gait, a negligent slovenly fellow. To slouch; to hang down one’s head. A slouched hat: a hat whose brims are let down.
Slubber de gullion. A dirty nasty fellow.
Slug. A piece of lead of any shape, to be fired from a blunderbuss. To fire a slug; to drink a dram.
Slug-a-bed. A drone, one that cannot rise in the morning.
Sluice your gob. Take a hearty drink.
Slur. To slur, is a method of cheating at dice: also to cast a reflection on any one’s character, to scandalize.
Slush. Greasy dish-water, or the skimmings of a pot where fat meat has been boiled.
Slush bucket. A foul feeder, one that eats much greasy food.
Sly boots. A cunning fellow, under the mask of simplicity.
Smabbled, or Snabbled. Killed in battle.
To smack. To kiss. I had a smack at her muns: I kissed her mouth. To smack calves skin; to kiss the book, i.e. to take an oath. The queer cuffin bid me smack calves skin, but I only bussed my thumb; the justice bid me kiss the book, but I only kissed my thumb.
Smacksmooth. Level with the surface, every thing cut away.
Smacking cove. A coachman.
Small clothes. Breeches: a gird at the affected delicacy of the present age; a suit being called coat, waistcoat, and articles, or small clothes.
Smart. Spruce, fine: as smart as a carrot new scraped.
Smart money. Money allowed to soldiers or sailors for the loss of a limb, or other hurt received in the service.
Smasher. A person who lives by passing base coin. The cove was fined in the steel for smashing; the fellow was ordered to be imprisoned in the house of correction for uttering base coin.
Smash. Leg of mutton and smash: a leg of mutton and mashed turnips. Sea term.
To smash. To break; also to kick down stairs. Cant. To smash. To pass counterfeit money.
Smear. A plasterer.
Smear gelt. A bribe. German.
Smeller. A nose. Smellers: a cat’s whiskers.
Smelling cheat. An orchard, or garden; also a nosegay. Cant.
Smelts. Half guineas. Cant.
Smicket. A smock, or woman’s shift.
Smirk. A finical spruce fellow. To smirk; to smile, or look pleasantly.
Smiter. An arm. To smite one’s tutor; to get money from him. Academic term.
Smithfield bargain. A bargain whereby the purchaser is taken in. This is likewise frequently used to express matches or marriages contracted solely on the score of interest, on one or both sides, where the fair sex are bought and sold like cattle in Smithfield.
Smock-faced. Fair faced.
To smoke. To observe, to suspect.
Smoker. A tobacconist.
Smoky. Curious, suspicious, inquisitive.
Smouch. Dried leaves of the ash tree, used by the smugglers for adulterating the black or bohea teas.
Smous. A German Jew.
Smug. A nick name for a blacksmith; also neat and spruce.
Smug lay. Persons who pretend to be smugglers of lace and valuable articles; these men borrow money of publicans by depositing these goods in their hands; they shortly decamp, and the publican discovers too late that he has been duped; and on opening the pretended treasure, he finds trifling articles of no value.
Smuggling ken. A bawdy-house.
To smush. To snatch, or seize suddenly.
Smut. Bawdy. Smutty story; an indecent story.
Smut. A copper. A grate. Old iron. The cove was lagged for a smut: the fellow was transported for stealing a copper.
Snack. A share. To go snacks; to be partners.
To snabble. To rifle or plunder; also to kill.
Snaffler. A highwayman. Snaffler of prances; a horse stealer.
To snaffle. To steal. To snaffle any ones poll; to steal his wig.
Snaggs. Large teeth; also snails.
Snakesman. See Little snakesman.
Snap dragon. A Christmas gambol: raisins and almonds being put into a bowl of brandy, and the candles extinguished, the spirit is set on fire, and the company scramble for the raisins.
To snap the glaze. To break shop windows or show glasses.
Snappers. Pistols.
Snapt. Taken, caught.
Snatch cly. A thief who snatches women’s pockets.
Sneak. A pilferer. Morning sneak; one who pilfers early in the morning, before it is light. Evening sneak; an evening pilferer. Upright sneak: one who steals pewter pots from the alehouse boys employed to collect them. To go upon the sneak; to steal into houses whose doors are carelessly left open. Cant.
Sneaker. A small bowl.
Sneaking budge. One that robs alone.
Sneaksby. A mean-spirited fellow, a sneaking cur.
Sneering. Jeering, flickering, laughing in scorn.
Snicker. A glandered horse.
To snicker, or Snigger. To laugh privately, or in one’s sleeve.
To snilch. To eye, or look at any thing attentively: the cull snilches. Cant.
Snip. A taylor.
Snitch. To turn snitch, or snitcher; to turn informer.
To snite. To wipe, or slap. Snite his snitch; wipe his nose, i.e. give him a good knock.
To snivel. To cry, to throw the snot or snivel about. Snivelling; crying. A snivelling fellow; one that whines or complains.
To snoach. To speak through the nose, to snuffle.
Snob. A nick name for a shoemaker.
To snooze, or Snoodge. To sleep. To snooze with a mort; to sleep with a wench. Cant.
Snoozing ken. A brothel. The swell was spiced in a snoozing ken of his screens; the gentleman was robbed of his bank notes in a brothel.
Snow. Linen hung out to dry or bleach. Spice the snow; to steal the linen.
Snout. A hogshead. Cant.
Snowball. A jeering appellation for a negro.
To snub. To check, or rebuke.
Snub devil. A parson.
Snub nose. A short nose turned up at the end.
Snudge. A thief who hides himself under a bed, in Order to rob the house.
Snuff. To take snuff; to be offended.
To snuffle. To speak through the nose.
Snuffles. A cold in the head, attended with a running at the nose.
Snug. All’s snug; all’s quiet.
To soak. To drink. An old soaker; a drunkard, one that moistens his clay to make it stick together.
Socket money. A whore’s fee, or hire: also money paid for a treat, by a married man caught in an intrigue.
Soldier’s bottle. A large one.
Soldier’s mawnd. A pretended soldier, begging with a counterfeit wound, which he pretends to have received at some famous siege or battle.
Soldier’s pomatum. A piece of tallow candle.
Soldier. A red herring.
Solfa. A parish clerk.
Solo player. A miserable performer on any instrument, who always plays alone, because no one will stay in the room to hear him.
Solomon. The mass. Cant.
Son of prattlement. A lawyer.
Song. He changed his song; he altered his account or evidence. It was bought for an old song, i.e. very cheap. His morning and his evening song do not agree; he tells a different story.
Sooterkin. A joke upon the Dutch women, supposing that, by their constant use of stoves, which they place under their petticoats, they breed a kind of small animal in their bodies, called a sooterkin, of the size of a mouse, which when mature slips out.
Sop. A bribe. A sop for Cerberus; a bribe for a porter, turnkey, or gaoler.
Soph. (Cambridge) An undergraduate in his second year.
Sorrel. A yellowish red. Sorrel pate; one having red hair.
Sorrow shall be his sops. He shall repent this. Sorrow go by me; a common expletive used by presbyterians in Ireland.
Sorry. Vile, mean, worthless. A sorry fellow, or hussy; a worthless man or woman.
Sot weed. Tobacco.
Soul case. The body. He made a hole in his soul case; he wounded him.
Soul doctor, or Driver. A parson.
Sounders. A herd of swine.
Souse. Not a souse; not a penny. French.
Sow. A fat woman. He has got the wrong sow by the ear, he mistakes his man. Drunk as David’s sow; see David’s Sow.
Sow’s baby. A sucking pig.
Sow child. A female child.
Spado. A sword. Spanish.
Spangle. A seven shilling piece.
Spank. (Whip) To run neatly along, beteeen a trot and gallop. The tits spanked it to town; the horses went merrily along all the way to town.
Spanish. The spanish; ready money.
Spanish coin. Fair words and compliments.
Spanish faggot. The sun.
Spanish gout. The pox.
Spanish padlock. A kind of girdle contrived by jealous husbands of that nation, to secure the chastity of their wives.
Spanish, or King of spain’s trumpeter. An ass when braying.
Spanish worm. A nail: so called by carpenters when they meet with one in a board they are sawing.
Spanks, or Spankers. Money; also blows with the open hand.
Spanking. Large.
Spark. A spruce, trim, or smart fellow. A man that is always thirsty, is said to have a spark in his throat.
Sparkish. Fine, gay.
Sparking blows. Blows given by cocks before they close, or, as the term is, mouth it: used figuratively for words previous to a quarrel.
Sparrow. Mumbling a sparrow; a cruel sport frequently practised at wakes and fairs: for a small premium, a booby having his hands tied behind him, has the wing of a cock sparrow put into his mouth: with this hold, without any other assistance than the motion of his lips, he is to get the sparrow’s head into his mouth: on attempting to do it, the bird defends itself surprisingly, frequently pecking the mumbler till his lips are covered with blood, and he is obliged to desist: to prevent the bird from getting away, he is fastened by a string to a button of the booby’s coat.
Sparrow-mouthed. Wide-mouthed, like the mouth of a sparrow: it is said of such persons, that they do not hold their mouths by lease, but have it from year to year; i.e. from ear to ear. One whose mouth cannot be enlarged without removing their ears, and who when they yawn have their heads half off.
Spatch cock. [Abbreviation of Dispatch cock.] A hen just killed from the roost, or yard, and immediately skinned, split, and broiled: an Irish dish upon any sudden occasion.
To speak with. To rob. I spoke with the cull on the cherry-coloured prancer; I robbed the man on the black horse. Cant.
Speak. Any thing stolen. He has made a good speak; he has stolen something considerable.
Specked whiper. A coloured hankerchief. Cant.
Spice. To rob. Spice the swell; rob the gentleman.
Spice islands. A privy. Stink-hole bay or dilberry creek. The fundament.
Spider-shanked. Thin-legged.
To spiflicate. To confound, silence, or dumbfound.
Spilt. A small reward or gift.
Spilt. Thrown from a horse, or overturned in a carriage; pray, coachee, don’t spill us.
Spindle shanks. Slender legs.
To spirit away. To kidnap, or inveigle away.
Spiritual flesh broker. A parson.
Spit. He is as like his father as if he was spit out of his mouth; said of a child much resembling his father.
Spit. A sword.
Spit fire. A violent, pettish, or passionate person.
Spliced. Married: an allusion to joining two ropes ends by splicing. Sea term.
Split crow. The sign of the spread eagle, which being represented with two heads on one neck, gives it somewhat the appearance of being split.
Split cause. A lawyer.
Split fig. A grocer.
Split iron. The nick-name for a smith.
Spooney. (Whip) Thin, haggard, like the shank of a spoon; also delicate, craving for something, longing for sweets. Avaricious. That tit is damned spooney. She’s a spooney piece of goods. He’s a spooney old fellow.
Spoil pudding. A parson who preaches long sermons, keeping his congregation in church till the puddings are overdone.
To sport. To exhibit: as, Jack Jehu sported a new gig yesterday: I shall sport a new suit next week. To sport or flash one’s ivory; to shew one’s teeth. To sport timber; to keep one’s outside door shut; this term is used in the inns of court to signify denying one’s self. N.B. The word Sport was in great vogue ann. 1783 and 1784.
Spunge. A thirsty fellow, a great drinker. To spunge; to eat and drink at another’s cost. Spunging-house: a bailiff’s lock-up-house, or repository, to which persons arrested are taken, till they find bail, or have spent all their money: a house where every species of fraud and extortion is practised under the protection of the law.
Spunk. Rotten touchwood, or a kind of fungus prepared for tinder; figuratively, spirit, courage.
Spoon hand. The right hand.
To spout. To rehearse theatrically.
Spouting club. A meeting of apprentices and mechanics to rehearse different characters in plays: thus forming recruits for the strolling companies.
Spouting. Theatrical declamation.
Spouted. Pawned.
Spread. Butter.
Spread eagle. A soldier tied to the halberts in order to be whipped; his attitude bearing some likeness to that figure, as painted on signs.
Spree. A frolic. Fun. A drinking bout. A party of pleasure.
Spring-ankle warehouse. Newgate, or any other gaol: Irish.
Squab. A fat man or woman: from their likeness to a well-stuffed couch, called also a squab. A new-hatched chicken.
Square. Honest, not roguish. A square cove, i.e. a man who does not steal, or get his living by dishonest means.
Square toes. An old man: square toed shoes were anciently worn in common, and long retained by old men.
Squeak. A narrow escape, a chance: he had a squeak for his life. To squeak; to confess, peach, or turn stag. They squeak beef upon us; they cry out thieves after us. Cant.
Squeaker. A bar-boy; also a bastard or any other child. To stifle the squeaker; to murder a bastard, or throw It into the necessary house. — Organ pipes are likewise called squeakers. The squeakers are meltable; the small pipes are silver. Cant.
Squeeze crab. A sour-looking, shrivelled, diminutive fellow.
Squeeze wax. A good-natured foolish fellow, ready to become security for another, under hand and seal.
Squelch. A fall. Formerly a bailiff caught in a barrack-yard in Ireland, was liable by custom to have three tosses in a blanket, and a squelch; the squelch was given by letting go the corners of the blanket, and suffering him to fall to the ground. Squelch-gutted; fat, having a prominent belly.
Squib. A small satirical or political temporary jeu d’esprit, which, like the firework of that denomination, sparkles, bounces, stinks, and vanishes.
Squint-a-pipes. A squinting man or woman; said to be born in the middle of the week, and looking both ways for Sunday; or born in a hackney coach, and looking out of both windows; fit for a cook, one eye in the pot, and the other up the chimney; looking nine ways at once.
Squire of alsatia. A weak profligate spendthrift, the squire of the company; one who pays the whole reckoning, or treats the company, called standing squire.
Squirish. Foolish.
Squirrel. A prostitute: because she like that animal, covers her back with her tail. Meretrix corpore corpus alit. Menagiana, ii. 128.
Squirrel hunting. See Hunting.
Stag. To turn stag; to impeach one’s confederates: from a herd of deer, who are said to turn their horns against any of their number who is hunted.
To stag. To find, discover, or observe.
Staggering bob, with his yellow pumps. A calf just dropped, and unable to stand, killed for veal in Scotland: the hoofs of a young calf are yellow.
Stall whimper. A bastard. Cant.
Stalling. Making or ordaining. Stalling to the rogue; an ancient ceremony of instituting a candidate into the society of rogues, somewhat similar to the creation of a herald at arms. It is thus described by Harman: the upright man taking a gage of bowse, i.e. a pot of strong drink, pours it on the head of the rogue to be admitted; saying — I, A.B. do stall thee B.C. to the rogue; and from henceforth it shall be lawful for thee to cant for thy living in all places.
Stalling ken. A broker’s shop, or that of a receiver of stolen goods.
Stallion. A man kept by an old lady for secret services.
Stam flesh. To cant. Cant.
Stammel, or Strammel. A coarse brawny wench.
Stamp. A particular manner of throwing the dice out of the box, by striking it with violence against the table.
Stamps. Legs.
Stand-still. He was run to a stand-still; i.e. till he could no longer move.
Star gazer. A horse who throws up his head; also a hedge whore.
To star the glaze. To break and rob a jeweller’s show glass. Cant.
Starched. Stiff, prim, formal, affected.
Staring quarter. An ox cheek.
Start, or The old start. Newgate: he is gone to the start, or the old start. Cant.
Starter. One who leaves a jolly company, a milksop; he is no starter, he will sit longer than a hen.
Starve’em, rob’em, and cheat’em. Stroud, Rochester, and Chatham; so called by soldiers and sailors, and not without good reason.
Star lag. Breaking shop-windows, and stealing some article thereout.
Stash. To stop. To finish. To end. The cove tipped the prosecutor fifty quid to stash the business; he gave the prosecutor fifty guineas to stop the prosecution.
State. To lie in state; to be in bed with three harlots.
Stay. A cuckold.
Staytape. A taylor; from that article, and its coadjutor buckram, which make no small figure in the bills of those knights of the needle.
Steamer. A pipe. A swell steamer; a long pipe, such as is used by gentlemen to smoke.
Steel. The house of correction.
Steel bar. A needle. A steel bar flinger; a taylor, stay-maker, or any other person using a needle.
Steenkirk. A muslin neckcloth carelessly put on, from the manner in which the French officers wore their cravats when they returned from the battle of Steenkirk.
Steeple house. A name given to the church by Dissenters.
Stephen. Money. Stephen’s at home; i.e. has money.
Stepney. A decoction of raisins of the sun and lemons in conduit water, sweetened with sugar, and bottled up.
Stewed quaker. Burnt rum, with a piece of butter: an American remedy for a cold.
Sticks. Household furniture.
Sticks. Pops or pistols. Stow your sticks; hide your pistols. Cant. See Pops.
Stick flams. A pair of gloves.
Stiff-rumped. Proud, stately.
Stingo. Strong beer, or other liquor.
Stirrup cup. A parting cup or glass, drank on horseback by the person taking leave.
Stitch. A nick name for a taylor: also a term for lying with a woman.
Stitchback. Strong ale.
Stiver-cramped. Needy, wanting money. A stiver is a Dutch coin, worth somewhat more than a penny sterling.
Stock. A good stock; i.e. of impudence. Stock and block; the whole: he has lost stock and block.
Stock drawers. Stockings.
Stock jobbers. Persons who gamble in Exchange Alley, by pretending to buy and sell the public funds, but in reality only betting that they will be at a certain price, at a particular time; possessing neither the stock pretended to be sold, nor money sufficient to make good the payments for which they contract: these gentlemen are known under the different appellations of bulls, bears, and lame ducks.
Stomach worm. The stomach worm gnaws; I am hungry.
Stone. Two stone under weight, or wanting; an eunuch. Stone doublet; a prison. Stone dead; dead as a stone.
Stone jug. Newgate, or any other prison.
Stone tavern. Ditto.
Stoop-nappers, or Overseers of the new pavement. Persons set in the pillory. Cant.
Stoop. The pillory. The cull was served for macing and napp’d the stoop; he was convicted of swindling, and put in the pillory.
Stop hole abbey. The nick name of the chief rendzvous of the canting crew of beggars, gypsies, cheats, thieves, &c. &c.
Stoter. A great blow. Tip him a stoter in the haltering place; give him a blow under the left ear.
Stoup. A vessel to hold liquor: a vessel containing a size or half a pint, is so called at Cambridge.
Stow. Stow you; be silent, or hold your peace. Stow your whidds and plant’em, for the cove of the ken can cant’em; you have said enough, the man of the house understands you.
Strait-laced. Precise, over nice, puritanical.
Strait waistcoat. A tight waistcoat, with long sleeves coming over the hand, having strings for binding them behind the back of the wearer: these waistcoats are used in madhouses for the management of lunatics when outrageous.
Strammel. See Stammel.
Stranger. A guinea.
Strangle goose. A poulterer.
To Strap. To work. The kiddy would not strap, so he went on the scamp: the lad would not work, and therefore robbed on the highway.
Strapper. A large man or woman.
Strapping. Lying with a woman. Cant.
Straw. A good woman in the straw; a lying-in woman. His eyes draw straw; his eyes are almost shut, or he is almost asleep: one eye draws straw, and t’other serves the thatcher.
Stretch. A yard. The cove was lagged for prigging a peter with several stretch of dobbin from a drag; the fellow was transported for stealing a trunk, containing several yards of ribband, from a waggon.
Stretching. Hanging. He’ll stretch for it; he will be hanged for it. Also telling a great lie: he stretched stoutly.
Strike. Twenty shillings. Cant.
Stroke. To take a stroke: to take a bout with a woman.
Strollers. Itinerants of different kinds. Strolling morts; beggars or pedlars pretending to be widows.
Strommel. Straw. Cant.
Strong man. To play the part of the strong man, i.e. to push the cart and horses too; to be whipt at the cart’s tail.
Strum. A perriwig. Rum strum: a fine large wig. (Cambridge) To do a piece. Foeminam subagitare. Cant.
To Strum. To have carnal knowledge of a woman; also to play badly on the harpsichord; or any other stringed instrument. A strummer of wire, a player on any instrument strung with wire.
Strumpet. A harlot.
Stub-faced. Pitted with the smallpox: the devil ran over his face with horse stabs (horse nails) in his shoes.
Stubble it. Hold your tongue. Cant.
Stuling ken. See Stalling ken. Cant.
Stum. The flower of fermenting wine, used by vintners to adulterate their wines.
Stumps. Legs. To stir one’s stumps; to walk fast.
Sturdy beggars. The fifth and last of the most ancient order of canters, beggars that rather demand than ask Cant.
Successfully. Used by the vulgar for Successively: as three or four landlords of this house have been ruined successfully by the number of soldiers quartered on them. Irish.
Such a reason pist my goose, or My goose pist. Said when any one offers an absurd reason.
Suck. Strong liquor of any sort. To suck the monkey; see Monkey. Sucky; drunk.
To Suck. To pump. To draw from a man all be knows. The file sucked the noodle’s brains: the deep one drew out of the fool all he knew.
Sucking chicken. A young chicken.
Suds. In the suds; in trouble, in a disagreeable situation, or involved in some difficulty.
Sugar stick. The virile member.
Sugar sops. Toasted bread soked in ale, sweetened with sugar, and grated nutmeg: it is eaten with cheese.
Sulky. A one-horse chaise or carriage, capable of holding but one person: called by the French a Desobligeant.
Sun. To have been in the sun; said of one that is drunk.
Sunburnt. Clapped; also haying many male children.
Sunday man. One who goes abroad on that day only, for fear of arrests.
Sunny bank. A good fire in winter.
Sunshine. Prosperity.
Supernacolum. Good liquor, of which there is not even a drop left sufficient to wet one’s nail.
Supouch. A landlady of an inn, or hostess.
Surveyor of the highways. One reeling drunk.
Surveyor of the pavement. One standing in the pillory.
Sus per coll. Hanged: persons who have been hanged are thus entered into the jailor’s books.
Suspence. One in a deadly suspence; a man just turned off at the gallows.
Sutrer. A camp publican: also one that pilfers gloves, tobacco boxes, and such small moveables.
Swabbers. The ace of hearts, knave of clubs, ace and duce of trumps, at whist: also the lubberly seamen, put to swab, and clean the ship.
Swad, or Swadkin. A soldier. Cant.
To Swaddle. To beat with a stick.
Swaddlers. The tenth order of the canting tribe, who not only rob, but beat, and often murder passenges. Cant. Swaddlers is also the Irish name for methodist.
Swag. A shop. Any quantity of goods. As, plant the swag; conceal the goods. Rum swag; a shop full of rich goods. Cant.
Swagger. To bully, brag, or boast, also to strut.
Swannery. He keeps a swannery; i.e. all his geese are swans.
Sweating. A mode of diminishing the gold coin, practiced chiefly by the Jews, who corrode it with aqua regia. Sweating was also a diversion practised by the bloods of the last century, who styled themselves Mohocks: these gentlemen lay in wait to surprise some person late in the night, when surrouding him, they with their swords pricked him in the posteriors, which obliged him to be constantly turning round; this they continued till they thought him sufficiently sweated.
Sweet. Easy to be imposed on, or taken in; also expert, dexterous clever. Sweet’s your hand; said of one dexterous at stealing.
Sweet heart. A term applicable to either the masculine or feminine gender, signifying a girl’s lover, or a man’s mistress: derived from a sweet cake in the shape of a heart.
Sweetness. Guinea droppers, cheats, sharpers. To sweeten to decoy, or draw in. To be sweet upon; to coax, wheedle, court, or allure. He seemed sweet upon that wench; he seemed to court that girl.
Swell. A gentleman. A well-dressed map. The flashman bounced the swell of all his blunt; the girl’s bully frightened the gentleman out of all his money.
Swelled head. A disorder to which horses are extremely liable, particularly those of the subalterns of the army. This disorder is generally occasioned by remaining too long in one livery-stable or inn, and often arises to that height that it prevents their coming out at the stable door. The most certain cure is the unguentum aureum — not applied to the horse, but to the palm of the master of the inn or stable. N. B. Neither this disorder, nor its remedy, is mentioned by either Bracken, Bartlet, or any of the modern writers on farriery.
Swig. A hearty draught of liquor.
Swigmen. Thieves who travel the country under colour of buying old shoes, old clothes, &c. or selling brooms, mops, &c. Cant.
To swill. To drink greedily.
Swill tub. A drunkard, a sot.
Swimmer. A counterfeit old coin.
Swimmer. A ship. I shall have a swimmer; a cant phrase used by thieves to signify that they will be sent on board the tender.
To swing. To be hanged. He will swing for it; he will be hanged for it.
Swing tail. A hog.
To swinge. To beat stoutly.
Swinging. A great swinging fellow; a great stout fellow. A swinging lie; a lusty lie.
Swindler. One who obtains goods on credit by false pretences, and sells them for ready money at any price, in order to make up a purse. This name is derived from the German word Schwindlin, to totter, to be ready to fall; these arts being generally practised by persons on the totter, or just ready to break. The term Swindler has since been used to signify cheats of every kind.
Swipes. Purser’s swipes; small beer: so termed on board the king’s ships, where it is furnished by the purser.
Swish tail. A pheasant; so called by the persons who sell game for the poachers.
To swive. To copulate.
Swivel-eyed. Squinting.
Swizzle. Drink, or any brisk or windy liquor. In North America, a mixture of spruce beer, rum, and sugar, was so called. The 17th regiment had a society called the Swizzle Club, at Ticonderoga, A. D. 1760.
Sword racket. To enlist in different regiments, and on receiving the bounty to desert immediately.
Swop. An exchange.
Syebuck. Sixpence.
Syntax. A schoolmaster.
Tabby. An old maid; either from Tabitha, a formal antiquated name; or else from a tabby cat, old maids being often compared to cats. To drive Tab; to go out on a party of pleasure with a wife and family.
Tace. Silence, hold your tongue. Tace is Latin for a candle; a jocular admonition to be silent on any subject.
Tackle. A mistress; also good clothes. The cull has tipt his tackle rum gigging; the fellow has given his mistress good clothes. A man’s tackle: the genitals.
Taffy, i.e. Davy. A general name for a Welchman, St. David being the tutelar saint of Wales. Taffy’s day; the first of March, St. David’s day.
Tag-rag and bobtail. An expression meaning an assemblage of low people, the mobility of all sorts. To tag after one like a tantony pig: to follow one wherever one goes, just as St. Anthony is followed by his pig.
Tail. A prostitute. Also, a sword.
Taken in. Imposed on, cheated.
Tale tellers. Persons said to have been formerly hired to tell wonderful stories of giants and fairies, to lull their hearers to sleep. Talesman; the author of a story or report: I’ll tell you my tale, and my talesman. Tale bearers; mischief makers, incendiaries in families.
Tall boy. A bottle, or two-quart pot.
Tally men. Brokers that let out clothes to the women of the town. See Rabbit suckers.
Tallywags, or Tarrywags. A man’s testicles.
Tame. To run tame about a house; to live familiarly in a family with which one is upon a visit. Tame army; the city trained bands.
Tandem. A two-wheeled chaise, buggy, or noddy, drawn by two horses, one before the other: that is, At length.
Tangier. A room in Newgate, where debtors were confined, hence called Tangerines.
Tanner. A sixpence. The kiddey tipped the rattling cove a tanner for luck; the lad gave the coachman sixpence for drink.
Tantadlin tart. A sirreverence, human excrement.
Tantrums. Pet, or passion: madam was in her tantrums.
Tantwivy. Away they went tantwivy; away they went full speed. Tantwivy was the sound of the hunting horn in full cry, or that of a post horn.
Tap. A gentle blow. A tap on the shoulder;-an-arrest. To tap a girl; to be the first seducer: in allusion to a beer barrel. To tap a guinea; to get it changed.
Tappers. Shoulder tappers: bailiffs.
Tape. Red tape; brandy. Blue or white tape; gin.
Taplash. Thick and bad beer.
Tar. Don’t lose a sheep for a halfpennyworth of tar: tar is used to mark sheep. A jack tar; a sailor.
Taradiddle. A fib, or falsity.
Tarpawlin. A coarse cloth tarred over: also, figuratively, a sailor.
Tarring and feathering. A punishment lately infliced by the good people of Boston on any person convicted, or suspected, of loyalty: such delinquents being “stripped naked”, were daubed all over wilh tar, and afterwards put into a hogshead of feathers.
Tart. Sour, sharp, quick, pert.
Tartar. To catch a Tartar; to attack one of superior strength or abilities. This saying originated from a story of an Irish-soldier in the Imperial service, who, in a battle against the Turks, called out to his comrade that he had caught a Tartar. ‘Bring him along then,’ said he. ‘He won’t come,’ answered Paddy. ‘Then come along yourself,’ replied his comrade. ‘Arrah,’ cried he, ‘but he won’t let me.’— A Tartar is also an adept at any feat, or game: he is quite a Tartar at cricket, or billiards.
Tat. Tit for tat; an equivalent.
Tats. False dice.
Tatler. A watch. To flash a tatler: to wear a watch.
Tat monger. One that uses false dice.
Tatterdemalion. A ragged fellow, whose clothes hang all in tatters.
Tattoo. A beat of the drum, of signal for soldiers to go to their quarters, and a direction to the sutlers to close the tap, anddtew nomore liquor for them; it is generally beat at nine in summer and eight in winter. The devil’s tattoo; beating with one’s foot against the ground, as done by persons in low spirits.
Taw. A schoolboy’s game, played with small round balls made of stone dust, catted marbles. I’ll be one upon your taw presently; a species of threat.
Tawdry. Garish, gawdy, with lace or staring and discordant colours: a term said to be derived from the shrine and altar of St. Audrey (an Isle of Ely saintess), which for finery exceeded all others thereabouts, so as to become proverbial; whence any fine dressed man or woman said to be all St Audrey, and by contraction, all tawdry.
Tawed. Beaten,
Tayle. See Tail.
Tayle drawers. Thieves who snatch gentlemens swords from their sides. He drew the cull’s tayle rumly; he snatched away the gentleman’s sword cleverly.
Taylor. Nine taylors make a man; an ancient and common saying, originating from the effeminacy of their employment; or, as some have it, from nine taylors having been robbed by one man; according to others, from the speech of a woollendraper, meaning that the custom of nine, taylors would make or enrich one man — A London taylor, rated to furnish half a man to the Trained Bands, asking how that could possibly be done? was answered, By sending four, journeymen and and apprentice. — Puta taylor, a weaver, and a miller into a sack, shake them well, And the first that, puts out his head is certainly a thief. — A taylor is frequently styled pricklouse, assaults on those vermin with their needles.
Taylors goose. An iron with which, when heated, press down the seams of clothes.
Tea voider. A chamber pot.
Tea gueland. Ireland. Teaguelanders; Irishmen.
Tears of the tankard. The drippings of liquor on a man’s waistcoat.
Teddy my godson. An address to a supposed simple fellow, or nysey,
Teize. To-nap the teize; to receive a whipping. Cant.
Temple pickling. Pumping a bailiff; a punishment formerly administered to any of that fraternity caught exercising their functions within the limits of Temple.
Ten toes. See Bayard of ten toes.
Ten in the hundred. An usurer; more than five in the hundred being deemed usurious interest.
Tenant at will, One whose wife usually fetches him from the alehouse.
Tenant for life. A married man; i.e. possessed of a woman for life.
Tender parnell. A tender creature, fearful of the least puff of wind or drop of rain. As tender as Parnell, who broke her finger in a posset drink.
Termagant. An outrageous scold from Termagantes, a cruel Pagan, formerly represented in diners shows and entertainments, where being dressed a la Turque, in long clothes, he was mistaken for a furious woman.
Terra firma. An estate in land.
Tester. A sixpence: from Teston, a coin with a head on it.
Tetbury portion. A **** and a clap.
Thames. He will not find out a way to set the Thames on fire; he will not make any wonderful discoveries, he is no conjuror.
Thatch-gallows. A rogue, or man of bad character.
Thick. Intimate. They are as thick as two inkle-weavers.
Thief. You are a thief and a murderer, you have killed a baboon and stole his face; vulgar abuse.
Thief in a candle. Part of the wick or snuff, which falling on the tallow, burns and melts it, and causing it to gutter, thus steals it away.
Thief takers. Fellows who associate with all kinds of villains, in order to betray them, when they have committed any of those crimes which entitle the persons taking them to a handsome reward, called blood money. It is the business of these thief takers to furnish subjects for a handsome execution, at the end of every sessions.
Thimble. A watch. The swell flashes a rum thimble; the gentleman sports a fine watch.
Thingstable. Mr. Thingstable; Mr. Constable: a ludicrous affectation of delicacy in avoiding the pronunciation of the first syllable in the title of that officer, which in sound has some similarity to an indecent monosyllable.
Thingumbob. Mr. Thingumbob; a vulgar address or nomination to any person whose name is unknown, the same as Mr. What-d’ye-cal’em. Thingumbobs; testicles.
Thirding. A custom practised at the universities, where two thirds of the original price is allowed by the upholsterers to the students for household goods returned to them within the year.
Thirteener. A shilling in Ireland, which there passes for thirteen pence.
Thomond. Like Lord Thomond’s cocks, all on one side. Lord Thomond’s cock-feeder, an Irishman, being entrusted with some cocks which were matched for a considerable sum, the night before the battle shut them all together in one room, concluding that as they were all on the same side, they would not disagree: the consequence was, they were most of them either killed or lamed before the morning.
Thomas. Man Thomas; a man’s penis.
Thorns. To be or sit upon thorns; to be uneasy, impatient, anxious for an event.
Thornback. An old maid.
Thorough churchman. A person who goes in at one door of a church, and out at the other, without stopping.
Thorough-good-natured wench. One who being asked to sit down, will lie down.
Thorough go nimble. A looseness, a violent purging.
Thorough cough. Coughing and breaking wind backwards at the same time.
Thorough stitch. To go thorough stitch; to stick at nothing; over shoes, over boots.
Thought. What did thought do? lay’in bed and beshat himself, and thought he was up; reproof to any one who excuses himself for any breach of positive orders, by pleading that he thought to the contrary.
Three to one. He is playing three to one, though sure to lose; said of one engaged in the amorous congress.
Three-penny upright. A retailer of love, who, for the sum mentioned, dispenses her favours standing against a wall.
Three-legged mare, or Stool. The gallows, formerly consisting of three posts, over which were laid three transverse beams. This clumsy machine has lately given place to an elegant contrivance, called the New drop, by which the use of that vulgar vehicle a cart, or mechanical instrument a ladder, is also avoided; the patients being left suspended by the dropping down of that part of the floor on which they stand. This invention was first made use of for a peer. See Drop.
Three threads. Half common ale, mixed with stale and double beer.
Threps. Threepence.
To throttle. To strangle.
Throttle. The throat, or gullet.
To thrum. To play on any instrument sttfnged with wire. A thrummer of wire; a player on the spinet, harpsichord, of guitar.
Thrums. Threepence.
Thumb. By rule of thumb: to do any thing by dint of practice. To kiss one’s thumb instead of the book; a vulgar expedient to avoid perjury in taking a false oath.
Thummikins. An instrument formerly used in Scotland, like a vice, to pinch the thumbs of persons accused of different crimes, in order to extort confession.
Thump. A blow. This is better than a thump on the back with a stone; said on giving any one a drink of good liquor on a cold morning. Thatch, thistle, thunder, and thump; words to the Irish, like the Shibboleth of the Hebrews.
Thumping. Great! a thumping boy.
Thwack. A great blow with a stick across the shoulders.
Tib. A young lass
Tibby. A cat.
Tib of the buttery. A goose. Cant. Saint Tibb’s evening; the evening of the last day, or day of judgment: he will pay you on St. Tibb’s eve. Irish.
Tick. To run o’tick; take up goods upon trust, to run in debt. Tick; a watch. See sessions papers.
Tickle text. A parson.
Tickle pitckeb. A thirsty fellow, a sot.
Tickle tail. A rod, or schoolmaster. A man’s penis.
Tickrum. A licence.
Tidy. Neat.
Tiffing. Eating or drinking out of meal time, disputing or falling out; also lying with a wench, A tiff of punch, a small bowl of punch.
Tilbuky. Sixpence; so called from its formerly being the fare for Crossing over from Gravesend to Tilbury Fort.
Tilt. To tilt; to fight with a sword. To run full tilt against one; allusion to the ancient tilling with the lance.
Tilter. A sword.
Tim whisky. A light one — horse chaise without a head.
Timber toe. A man with a wooden leg.
Tiny. Little.
To tip. To give or lend. Tip me your daddle; give me your hand. Tip me a hog; give me a shilling. To tip the lion; to flatten a man’s nose with the thumb, and, at the same time to extend his mouth, with the fingers, thereby giving him a sort of lion-like countenauce. To tip the velvet; tonguing woman. To tip all nine; to knock down all the nine pins at once, at the game of bows or skittles: tipping, at these gaines, is slightly touching the tops of the pins with the bowl. Tip; a draught; don’t spoil his tip.
Tip-top. The best: perhaps from fruit, that growing at the top of the tree being generally the best, as partaking most of the sun. A tip-top workman; the best, or most excellent Workman.
Tipperary fortune. Two town lands, stream’s town, and ballinocack; said of Irish women without fortune.
Tipple. Liquor.
Tipplers. Sots who are continually sipping.
Tipsey. Almost drunk.
Tiring. Dressing: perhaps abbreviation of Attiring. Tiring women, or tire women: women that used to cut ladies hair, and dress them.
Tit. A horse; a pretty little tit; a smart little girl. a *** or tid bit; a delicate morsel. Tommy tit; a smart lively little fellow.
Tit for tat. An equivalent.
To titter. To suppress a laugh.
Titter tatter. One reeling, and ready to fall at the least touch; also the childish amusement of riding upon the two ends of a plank, poised upon the prop underneath its centre, called also see-saw. Perhaps tatter is a rustic pronunciation of totter.
Tittle-tattle. Idle discourse, scandal, women’s talk, or small talk.
Tittup. A gentle hand gallop, or canter.
Tizzy. Sixpence.
Toad eater. A poor female relation, and humble companion, or reduced gentlewoman, in a great family, the standing butt, on whom all kinds of practical jokes are played off, and all ill humours vented. This appellation is derived from a mountebank’s servant, on whom all experiments used to be made in public by the doctor, his master; among which was the eating of toads, formerly supposed poisonous. Swallowing toads is here figuratively meant for swallowing or putting up with insults, as disagreeable to a person of feeling as toads to the stomach.
Toad. Toad in a hole; meat baked or boiled in pye-crust. He or she sits like a toad on a chopping-block; a saying of any who sits ill on horseback. As much need of it as a toad of a side-pocket; said of a person who desires any thing for which he has no real occasion. As full of money as a toad is of feathers.
Toast. A health; also a beautiful woman whose health is often drank by men. The origin of this term (as it is said) was this: a beautiful lady bathing in a cold bath, one of her admirers out of gallantry drank some of the water: whereupon another of her lovers observed, he never drank in the morning, but he would kiss the toast, and immediately saluted the lady.
Toasting iron, or Cheese toaster. A sword.
Toby lay. The highway. High toby man; a highway-man. Low toby man; a footpad.
Tobacco. A plant, once in great estimation as a medicine:
Tobacco hic
If you be well will make you sick.
Toddy. Originally the juice of the cocoa tree, and afterwards rum, water, sugar, and nutmeg.
Toddle. To walk away. The cove was touting, but stagging the traps he toddled; be was looking out, and feeing the officers he walked away.
Todge. Beat all to a todge: said of anything beat to mash.
Toge. A coat. Cant.
Togemans. The same. Cant.
Togs. Clothes. The swell is rum-togged. The gentleman is handsomely dressed.
Token. The plague: also the venereal disease. She tipped him the token; she gave him a clap or pox.
Tol, or Toledo. A sword: from Spanish swords made at Toledo, which place was famous for sword blades of an extraordinary temper.
Tolliban rig. A species of cheat carried on by a woman, assuming the character of a dumb and deaf conjuror.
Tom T—Dman. A night man, one who empties necessary houses.
Tomboy. A romping girl, who prefers the amusement used by boys to those of her own sex.
Tom of bedlam. The same as Abram man.
Tom cony. A simple fellow.
Tom long. A tiresome story teller. It is coming by Tom Long, the carrier; said of any thing that has been long expected.
Tom thumb. A dwarf, a little hop-o’my-thumb.
Tommy. Soft Tommy, or white Tommy; bread is so called by sailors, to distinguish it from biscuit. Brown Tommy: ammunition bread for soldiers; or brown bread given to convicts at the hulks.
To-morrow come never. When two Sundays come together; never.
Tongue. Tongue enough for two sets of teeth: said of a talkative person. As old as my tongue, and a little older than my teeth; a dovetail in answer to the question, How old are you? Tongue pad; a scold, or nimble-tongued person.
Tony. A silly fellow, or ninny. A mere tony: a simpleton.
Tools. The private parts of a man.
Tool. The instrument of any person or faction, a cat’s paw. See Cats paw.
Tooth Music. Chewing.
Tooth-pick. A large stick. An ironical expression.
Topper. A violent blow on the head.
Top ropes. To sway away on all top ropes; to live riotously or extravagantly.
To top. To cheat, or trick: also to insult: he thought to have topped upon me. Top; the signal among taylors for snuffing the candles: he who last pronounces that word word, is obliged to get up and perform the operation. — to be topped; to be hanged. The cove was topped for smashing queerscreens; he was hanged for uttering forged bank notes.
Top diver. A lover of women. An old top diver; one who has loved old hat in his time.
Top heavy. Drunk.
Top lights. The eyes. Blast your top lights. See Curse.
Top Sail. He paid his debts at Portsmouth with the topsail; i.e. he went to sea and left them unpaid. Sct soldiers are said to pay off their scores with the drum; that is, by marching away.
Toper. One that loves his bottle, a soaker. See to soak.
Topping fellow. One at the top or head of his profession.
Topping cheat. The gallows. Cant.
Topping cove. The hangman. Cant.
Topping man. A rich man.
Tofsy-turvy. The top side the other way; i.e. the wrong side upwards; some explain it, the top side turf ways, turf being always laid the wrong side upwards.
Torchecul. Bumfodder.
Tormenter of sheep skin. A drummer.
Tormenter of catgut. A fiddler.
Tory. An advocate for absolute monarchy and church power; also an Irish vagabond, robber, Or rapparee.
Toss pot. A drunkard.
Toss off. Manual pollution.
Totty-headed. Giddy, hare-brained.
Touch. To touch; to get money from any one; also to arrest. Touched in the wind; broken winded. Touched in the head; insane, crazy. To touch up a woman; to have carnal knowledge of her. Touch bone and whistle; any one having broken wind backwards, according to the vulgar law, may be pinched by any of the company till he has touched bone (i.e. his teeth) and whistled.
Touch bun for luck. See Bun.
Tovt. A look-out house, or eminence.
Touting. (From Tueri, to look about) Publicans fore-stalling guests, or meeting them on the road, and begging their custom; also thieves or smugglers looking out to see that the coast is clear. Touting ken; the bar of a public house.
Tow row. A grenadier. The tow row club; a club or society of the grenadier officers of the line.
Towel. An oaken towel, a cudgel. To rub one down with an oaken towel; to beat or cudgel him.
Tower. Clipped money: they have been round the tower with it. Cant.
To tower. To overlook, to rise aloft as in a high tower.
Tower hill play. A slap on the face, and a kick on the breech.
Town. A woman of the town; a prostitute. To be on the town: to live by prostitution.
Town bull. A common whoremaster. To roar like a town bull; to cry or bellow aloud.
To track. To go. Track up the dancers; go up stairs. Cant.
Trading justices. Broken mechanics, discharged footmen, and other low fellows, smuggled into the commission of the peace, who subsist by fomenting disputes, granting warrants, and otherwise retailing justice; to the honour of the present times, these nuisances are by no means, so common as formerly.
Tradesmen. Thieves. Clever tradesmen; good thieves.
Translators. Sellers of old mended shoes and boots, between coblers and shoemakers.
To transmography, or Transmigrify. To patch up vamp, or alter.
To transnear. To come up with any body.
Tranter. See Crocker.
Trap. To understand trap; to know one’s own interest.
Trap sticks. Thin legs, gambs: from the sticks with which boys play at trap-ball.
Traps. Constables and thief-takers. Cant.
To trapan. To inveigle, or ensnare.
Trapes. A slatternly woman, a careless sluttish woman.
Traveller. To tip the traveller; to tell wonderful stories, to romance.
Travelling piquet. A mode of amusing themselves, practised by two persons riding in a carriage, each reckoning towards his game the persons or animals that pass by on the side next them, according to the following estimation:
A parson riding a grey horse, witholue furniture; game. An old woman under a hedge; ditto. A cat looking out of a window; 60. A man, woman, and child, in a buggy; 40. A man with a woman behind him; 30. A flock of sheep; 20. A flock of geese; 10. A post chaise; 5. A horseman; 2. A man or woman walking; 1.
Tray trip. An ancient game like Scotch hop, played on a pavement marked out with chalk into different compartments.
Trencher cap. The square cap worn by the collegians. at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge.
Trencher man. A stout trencher man; one who has a good appetite, or, as the term is, plays a good knife and fork.
Treswins. Threepence.
Trib. A prison: perhaps from tribulation.
Trickum legis. A quirk or quibble in the law.
Trig. The point at which schoolboys stand to shoot their marbles at taw; also the spot whence bowlers deliver the bowl.
To trig it. To play truant. To lay a man trigging; to knock him down.
Trigrymate. An idle female companion.
Trim. State, dress. In a sad trim; dirty. — Also spruce or fine: a trim fellow.
Trim tram. Like master, like man.
Trimming. Cheating, changing side, or beating. I’ll trim his jacket; I’ll thresh him. To be trimmed; to be shaved; I’ll just step and get trimmed.
Trine. To hang; also Tyburn.
Tringum trangum. A whim, or maggot.
Trining. Hanging.
Trinkets. Toys, bawbles, or nicknacks.
Trip. A short voyage or journey, a false step or stumble, an error in the tongue, a bastard. She has made a trip; she has had a bastard.
Tripe. The belly, or guts. Mr. Double Tripe; a fat man. Tripes and trullibubs; the entrails: also a jeering appellation for a fat man.
To troll. To loiter or saunter about.
Trolly lolly. Coarse lace once much in fashion.
Trollop. A lusty coarse sluttish woman.
Trooper. You will die the death of a trooper’s horse, that is, with your shoes-on; a jocular method of telling any one he will be hanged.
Trot. An old trot; a decrepit old woman. A dog trot; a gentle pace.
Trotters. Feet. To shake one’s trotters at Bilby’s ball, where the sheriff pays the fiddlers; perhaps the Bilboes ball, i.e. the ball of fetters: fetters and stocks were anciently called the bilboes.
To Trounce. To punish by course of law.
Truck. To exchange, swop, or barter; also a wheel such as ship’s guns are placed upon.
Trull. A soldier or a tinker’s trull; a soldier or tinker’s female companion. — Guteli, or trulli, are spirits like women, which shew great kindness to men, and hereof it is that we call light women trulls. Randle holm’s academy of Armory.
Trumpery. An old whore, or goods of no value; rubbish.
Trumpet. To sound one’s own trumpet; to praise one’s self.
Trumpeter. The king of Spain’s trumpeter; a braying ass. His trumpeter is dead, he is therefore forced to sound his own trumpet. He would make an excellent trumpeter, for he has a strong breath; said of one having a foetid breath.
Trumps. To be put to one’s trumps: to be in difficulties, or put to one’s shifts. Something may turn up trumps; something lucky may happen. All his cards are trumps: he is extremely fortunate.
Trundlers. Peas.
Trunk. A nose. How fares your old trunk? does your nose still stand fast? an allusion to the proboscis or trunk of an elephant. To shove a trunk: to introduce one’s self unasked into any place or company. Trunk-maker like; more noise than work.
Trusty trojan, or Trusty trout. A true friend.
Try on. To endeavour. To live by thieving. Coves who try it on; professed thieves.
Tryning. See Trining.
Tu quoque. The mother of all saints.
Tub thumper. A presbyterian parson.
Tucked up. Hanged. A tucker up to an old bachelor or widower; a supposed mistress.
Tuft hunter. A it anniversary parasite, one who courts the acquaintance of nobility, whose caps are adorned with a gold tuft.
Tumbler. A cart; also a sharper employed to draw in pigeons to game; likewise a posture-master, or rope-dancer. To shove the tumbler, or perhaps tumbril; to-be whipt at the cart’s tail.
To tune. To beat: his father tuned him delightfully: perhaps from fetching a tune out of the person beaten, or from a comparison with the disagreeable sounds of instruments when tuning.
To tup. To have carnal knowledge of a woman.
Tup. A ram: figuratively, a cuckold.
Tup running. A rural sport practised at wakes and fairs in Derbyshire; a ram, whose tail is well soaped and greased, is turned out to the multitude; any one that can take him by the tail, and hold him fast, is to have him for his own.
T— D. There were four t — ds for dinner: stir t — d, hold t — d, tread t — d, and mus-t — d: to wit, a hog’s face, feet and chitterlings, with mustard. He will never sh — e a seaman’s t — d; i.e. he will never make a good seaman.
Turf. On the turf; persons who keep running horses, or attend and bet at horse-races, are said to be on the turf.
Turk. A cruel, hard-hearted man. Turkish treatment; barbarous usage. Turkish shore; Lambeth, Southwark, and Rotherhithe side of the Thames.
Turkey merchant. A poulterer.
Turncoat. One who has changed his party from interested motives.
Turned up. Acquitted; discharged.
Turnip-pated. White or fair-haired.
Turnpike man. A parson; because the clergy collect their tolls at our entrance into and exit from the world.
Tuzzy-muzzy. The monosyllable.
Twaddle. Perplexity, confusion, or any thing else: a fashionable term that for a while succeeded that of Bore. See Bore.
Twangey, or Stangey. A north country name for a taylor.
Tweague. In a great tweague: in a great passion. Tweaguey; peevish, passionate.
To tweak. To pull: to tweak any one’s nose.
Twelver. A shilling.
Twiddle-diddles. Testicles.
Twiddle poop. An effeminate looking fellow.
In twig. Handsome; stilish. The cove is togged in twig; the fellow is dressed in the fashion.
To twig. To observe. Twig the cull, he is peery; observe the fellow, he is watching us. Also to disengage, snap asunder, or break off. To twig the darbies; to knock off the irons.
Twiss. (Irish) A Jordan, or pot de chambre. A Mr. Richard Twiss having in his “Travels” given a very unfavourable description of the Irish character, the inhabitants of Dublin, byway of revenge, thought proper to christen this utensil by his name — suffice it to say that the baptismal rites were not wanting at the ceremony. On a nephew of this gentleman the following epigram was made by a friend of ouis:
Perish the country, yet my name
Shall ne’er in Story be forgot,
But still the more increase in fame,
The more the country Goes to pot.
Twist. A mixture of half tea and half coffee; likewise brandy, beer, and eggs. A good twist; a good appetite. To twist it down apace; to eat heartily.
Twisted. Executed, hanged.
To twit. To reproach a person, or remind him of favours conferred.
Twitter. All in a twitter; in a fright. Twittering is also the note of some small birds, such as the robin, &c.
Twittoc. Two. Cant.
Two handed put. The amorous congress.
Two thieves beating a rogue. A man beating his hands against his sides to warm himself in cold weather; called also beating the booby, and cuffing Jonas.
Two to one shop. A pawnbroker’s: alluding to the three blue balls, the sign of that trade: or perhaps to its being two to one that the goods pledged are never redeemed.
Two-handed. Great. A two-handed fellow or wench; a great strapping man orwoman,
Tye. A neckcloth.
Tyburn blossom. A young thief or pickpocket, who in time will ripen into fruit borne by the deadly never-green.
Tyburn tippet. A halter; see Latimer’s sermon before. Edward VI. A. D. 1549.
Tyburn top, or Foretop. A wig with the foretop combed over the eyes in a knowing style; such being much worn by the gentlemen pads, scamps, divers, and other knowing hands.
Tyke. A dog, also a clown; a Yorkshire tyke.
Tyney. See Tiney.
Vagaries. Frolics, wild rambles.
Vain-glorious, or Ostentatious man. One who boasts without reason, or, as the canters say, pisses more than he drinks.
Valentine. The first woman seen by a man, or man seen by a woman, on St. Valentine’s day, the 14th of February, when it is said every bird chuses his mate for the ensuing year.
To vamp. To pawn any thing. I’ll vamp it, and tip you the cole: I’ll pawn it, and give you the money. Also to refit, new dress, or rub up old hats, shoes or other wearing apparel; likewise to put new feet to old boots. Applied more particularly to a quack bookseller.
Vamper. Stockings.
Van. Madam Van; see Madam.
Van-neck. Miss or Mrs. Van–Neck; a woman with large breasts; a bushel bubby.
Vardy. To give one’s vardy; i.e. verdict or opinion.
Varlets. Now rogues and rascals, formerly yeoman’s servants.
Varment. (Whip and Cambridge.) Natty, dashing. He is quite varment, he is quite the go. He sports a varment hat, coat, &c.; he is dressed like a gentleman Jehu.
Vaulting school. A bawdy-house; also an academy where vaulting and other manly exercises are taught.
Velvet. To tip the velvet; to put one’s tongue into a woman’s mouth. To be upon velvet; to have the best of a bet or match. To the little gentleman in velvet, i. e. the mole that threw up the hill that caused Crop (King William’s horse) to stumble; a toast frequently drank by the tories and catholics in Ireland.
Venerable monosyllable. Pudendum muliebre.
Venus’s curse. The venereal disease.
Vessels of paper. Half a quarter of a sheet.
Vicar of bray. See Bray.
Vice admiral of the narrow seas. A drunken man that pisses under the table into his companions’ shoes.
Victualling office. The stomach.
Vincent’s law. The art of cheating at cards, composed of the following associates: bankers, those who play booty; the gripe, he that betteth; and the person cheated, who is styled the vincent; the gains acquired, termage.
Vinegar. A name given to the person who with a whip in his hand, and a hat held before his eye, keeps the ring clear, at boxing-matches and cudgel-playing; also, in cant terms, a cloak.
Vixen. A termagant; also a she fox, who, when she has cubs, is remarkably fierce.
To vowel. A gamester who does not immediately pay his losings, is said to vowel the winner, by repeating the vowels I. O. U. or perhaps from giving his note for the money according to the Irish form, where the acknowledgment of the debt is expressed by the letters I. O. U. which, the sum and name of the debtor being added, is deemed a sufficient security among gentlemen.
Uncle. Mine uncle’s; a necessary house. He is gone to visit his uncle; saying of one who leaves his wife soon after marriage. It likewise means a pawnbroker’s: goods pawned are frequently said to be at mine uncle’s, or laid up in lavender.
Understrapper. An inferior in any office, or department.
Under dubber. A turnkey.
Unfortunate gentlemen. The horse guards, who thus named themselves in Germany, where a general officer seeing them very awkward in bundling up their forage, asked what the devil they were; to which some of them answered, unfortunate gentlemen.
Unfortunate women. Prostitutes: so termed by the virtuous and compassionate of their own sex.
Ungrateful man. A parson, who at least once a week abuses his best benefactor, i.e. the devil.
Unguentum aureum. A bribe.
Unicorn. A coach drawn by three horses.
Unlicked cub. A rude uncouth young fellow.
Unrigged. Undressed, or stripped. Unrig the drab; strip the wench.
Untruss. To untruss a point; to let down one’s breeches in order to ease one’s self. Breeches were formerly tied with points, which till lately were distributed to the boys every Whit Monday by the churchwardens of most of the parishes in London, under the denomination of tags: these tags were worsteds of different colours twisted up to a size somewhat thicker than packthread, and tagged at both ends with tin. Laces were at the same given to the girls.
Untwisted. Undone, ruined, done up.
Unwashed bawdry. Rank bawdry.
Up to their gossip. To be a match for one who attempts to cheat or deceive; to be on a footing, or in the secret. I’ll be up with him; I will repay him in kind.
Uphills. False dice that run high.
Upper benjamin. A great coat. Cant.
Upper story, or Garret. Figuratively used to signify the head. His upper story or garrets are unfurnished; i.e. he is an empty or foolish fellow.
Upping block. [Called in some counties a leaping stock, in others a jossing block.] Steps for mounting a horse. He sits like a toad on a jossing block; said of one who sits ungracefully on horseback.
Uppish. Testy, apt to take offence.
Upright. Go upright; a word used by shoemakers, taylors and their servants, when any money is given to make them drink, and signifies, Bring it all out in liquor, though the donor intended less, and expects change, or some of his money, to be returned. Three-penny upright. See Threepenny upright,
Upright man. An upright man signifies the chief or principal of a crew. The vilest, stoutest rogue in the pack is generally chosen to this post, and has the sole right to the first night’s lodging with the dells, who afterwards are used in common among the whole fraternity. He carries a short truncheon in his hand, which he calls his filchman, and has a larger share than ordinary in whatsoever is gotten in the society. He often travels in company with thirty or forty males and females, abram men, and others, over whom he presides arbitrarily. Sometimes the women and children who are unable to travel, or fatigued, are by turns carried in panniers by an ass, or two, or by some poor jades procured for that purpose.
Upstarts. Persons lately raised to honours and riches from mean stations.
Urchin. A child, a little fellow; also a hedgehog.
Urinal of the planets. Ireland: so called from the frequent rains in that island.
Used up. Killed: a military saying, originating from a message sent by the late General Guise, on the expedition at Carthagena, where he desired the commander in chief to order him some more grenadiers, for those he had were all used up.
Wabler. Footwabler; a contemptuous term for a foot soldier, frequently used by those of the cavalry.
To waddle. To go like a duck. To waddle out of Change alley as a lame duck; a term for one who has not been able to pay his gaming debts, called his differences, on the Stock Exchange, and therefore absents himself from it.
Wag. An arch-frolicsome fellow.
Waggish. Arch, gamesome, frolicsome.
Wagtail. A lewd woman.
Waits. Musicians of the lower order, who in most towns play under the windows of the chief inhabitants at midnight, a short time before Christmas, for which they collect a christmas-box from house to house. They are said to derive their name of waits from being always in waiting to celebrate weddings and other joyous events happening within their district.
Wake. A country feast, commonly on the anniversary of the tutelar saint of the village, that is, the saint to whom the parish church is dedicated. Also a custom of watching the dead, called Late Wake, in use both in Ireland and Wales, where the corpse being deposited under a table, with a plate of salt on its breast, the table is covered with liquor of all sorts; and the guests, particularly, the younger part of them, amuse themselves with all kinds of pastimes and recreations: the consequence is generally more than replacing the departed friend.
Walking cornet. An ensign of foot.
Walking poulterer. One who steals fowls, and hawks them from door to door.
Walking stationer. A hawker of pamphlets, &c.
Walking the plank. A mode of destroying devoted persons or officers in a mutiny or ship-board, by blindfolding them, and obliging them to walk on a plank laid over the ship’s side; by this means, as the mutineers suppose, avoiding the penalty of murder.
Walking up against the wall. To run up a score, which in alehouses is commonly recorded with chalk on the walls of the bar.
Wall. To walk or crawl up the wall; to be scored up at a public-nouse. Wall-eyed, having an eye with little or no sight, all white like a plaistered wall.
To wap. To copulate, to beat. If she wont wap for a winne, let her trine for a make; if she won’t lie with a man for a penny, let her hang for a halfpenny. Mort wap-apace; a woman of experience, or very expert at the sport.
Wapper-eyed. Sore-eyed.
Ware. A woman’s ware; her commodity.
Ware hawk. An exclamation used by thieves to inform their confederates that some police officers are at hand.
Warm. Rich, in good circumstances. To warm, or give a man a warming; to beat him. See Chafed.
Warming-pan. A large old-fashioned watch. A Scotch warming-pan; a female bedfellow.
Warren. One that is security for goods taken up on credit by extravagant young gentlemen. Cunny warren; a girl’s boarding-school, also a bawdy-house.
Wash. Paint for the face, or cosmetic water. Hog-wash; thick and bad beer.
Wasp. An infected prostitute, who like a wasp carries a sting in her tail.
Waspish. Peevish, spiteful.
Waste. House of waste; a tavern or alehouse, where idle people waste both their time and money.
Watch, chain, and seals. A sheep’s head And pluck.
Water-mill. A woman’s private parts.
Water sneaksman. A man who steals from ships or craft on the river.
Water. His chops watered at it; he longed earnestly for it. To watch his waters; to keep a strict watch on any one’s actions. In hot water: in trouble, engaged in disputes.
Water bewitched. Very weak punch or beer.
Waterpad. One that robs ships in the river Thames.
Watery-headed. Apt to shed tears.
Water scriger, A doctor who prescribes from inspecting the water of his patients. See Piss prophet.
Wattles. Ears. Cant.
Wear A— E. A one-horse chaise.
Weasel-faced. Thin, meagre-faced. Weasel-gutted; thin-bodied; a weasel is a thin long slender animal with a sharp face.
Wedding. The emptying of a neoessary-hovise, particularly in London. You have been at an Irish wedding, where black eyes are given instead of favours; saying to one who has a black eye.
Wedge. Silver plate, because melted by the receivers of stolen goods into wedges. Cant.
To weed. To take a part. The kiddey weeded the swell’s screens; the youth took some of the gentleman’s bank notes.
Weeping cross. To come home by weeping cross; to repent.
Welch comb. The thumb and four fingers.
Welch fiddle. The itch. See Scotch fiddle.
Welch mile. Like a Welch mile, long and narrow. His story is like a Welch mile, long and tedious.
Welch rabbit, [i. e. a Welch rare-bit] Bread and cheese toasted. See Rabbit. — The Welch are said to be so remarkably fond of cheese, that in cases of difficulty their midwives apply a piece of toasted cheese to the janua vita to attract and entice the young Taffy, who on smelling it makes most vigorous efforts to come forth.
Welch ejectment. To unroof the house, a method practised by landlords in Wales to eject a bad tenant.
To well. To divide unfairly. To conceal part. A cant phrase used by thieves, where one of the party conceals some of the booty, instead of dividing it fairly amongst his confederates.
Well-hung. The blowen was nutts upon the kiddey because he is well-hung; the girl is pleased with the youth because his genitals are large.
Westminster wedding. A match between a whore and a rogue.
Wet parson. One who moistens his clay freely, in order to make it stick together.
Wet quaker. One of that sect who has no objection to the spirit derived from wine.
Whack. A share of a booty obtained by fraud. A paddy whack; a stout brawney Irishman.
Whapper. A large man or woman.
Wheedle. A sharper. To cut a wheedle; to decoy by fawning or insinuation. Cant.
Wheelband in the nick. Regular drinking over the left thumb.
Whelp. An impudent whelp; a saucy boy.
Whereas. To follow a whereas; to become a bankrupt, to figure among princes and potentates: the notice given in the Gazette that a commission of bankruptcy is issued out against any trader, always beginning with the word whereas. He will soon march in the rear of a whereas.
Whet. A morning’s draught, commonly white wine, supposed to whet or sharpen the appetite.
Whetstone’s park. A lane between Holborn and Lincoln’s-inn Fields, formerly famed for being the resort of women of the town.
Whids. Words. Cant.
To whiddle. To tell or discover. He whiddles; he peaches. He whiddles the whole scrap; he discovers all he knows. The cull whiddled because they would not tip him a snack: the fellow peached because they would not give him a share, They whiddle beef, and we must brush; they cry out thieves, and we must make off. Cant.
Whiddler. An informer, or one that betrays the secrets of the gang.
Whiffles. A relaxation of the scrotum.
Whifflers. Ancient name for fifers; also persons at the universities who examine candidates for degrees. A whiffling cur, a small yelping cur.
Whimper, or Whindle. A low cry.
To whine. To complain.
Whinyard. A sword.
To whip the cock. A piece of sport practised at wakes, horse-races, and fairs in Leicestershire: a cock being tied or fastened into a hat or basket, half a dozen carters blindfolded, and armed with their cart whips, are placed round it, who, after being turned thrice about, begin to whip the cock, which if any one strikes so as to make it cry out, it becomes his property; the joke is, that instead of whipping the cock they flog each other heartily.
Whip jacks. The tenth order of the canting crew, rogues who having learned a few sea terms, beg with counterfeit passes, pretending to be sailors shipwrecked on the neighbouring coast, and on their way to the port from whence they sailed.
To whip off. To run away, to drink off greedily, to snatch. He whipped away from home, went to the alehouse, where he whipped off a full tankard, and coming back whipped off a fellow’s hat from his head.
Whip-belly vengeance, or pinch-gut vengeance, of which he that gets the most has the worst share. Weak or sour beer.
Whipper-snapper. A diminutive fellow.
Whipster. A sharp or subtle fellow.
Whipt syllabub. A flimsy, frothy discourse or treatise, without solidity.
Whirlygigs. Testicles.
Whisker splitter. A man of intrigue.
Whiskin. A shallow brown drinking bowl.
Whisky. A malt spirit much drank in Ireland and Scotland; also a one-horse chaise. See Tim whisky.
Whistle. The throat. To wet one’s whistle; to drink.
Whistling shop. Rooms in the King’s Bench and Fleet prison where drams are privately sold.
Whit. [i. e. Whittington’s.] Newgate. Cant. — Five rum-padders are rubbed in the darkmans out of the whit, and are piked into the deuseaville; five highwaymen broke out of Newgate in the night, and are gone into the country.
White ribbin. Gin.
White feather. He has a white feather; he is a coward; an allusion to a game cock, where having a white leather is a proof he is not of the true game breed.
White-livered. Cowardly, malicious.
White lie. A harmless lie, one not told with a malicious intent, a lie told to reconcile people at variance.
White serjeant. A man fetched from the tavern or ale-house by his wife, is said to be arrested by the white serjeant.
White swelling. A woman big with child is said to have a white swelling.
White tape. Geneva.
White wool. Geneva.
Whitechapel. Whitechapel portion; two smocks, and what nature gave. Whitechapel breed; fat, ragged, and saucy: see St. giles’s breed. Whitechapel beau; one who dresses with a needle and thread, and undresses with a knife. To play at whist Whitechapel fashion; i.e. aces and kings first.
Whitewashed. One who has taken the benefit of an act of insolvency, to defraud his creditors, is said to have been whitewashed.
Whitfielite. A follower of George Whitfield, a Methodist.
Whither-go-ye. A wife: wives being sometimes apt to question their husbands whither they are going.
Whittington’s college. Newgate; built or repaired by the famous lord mayor of that name.
Whore’s bird. A debauched fellow, the largest of all birds. He sings more like a whore’s bird than a canary bird; said of one who has a strong manly voice.
Whore’s curse. A piece of gold coin, value five shillings and three pence, frequently given to women of the town by such as professed always to give gold, and who before the introduction of those pieces always gave half a guinea.
Whohe’s kitling, or Whore’s son. A bastard.
Whore-monger. A man that keeps more than one mistress. A country gentleman, who kept a female friend, being reproved by the parson of the parish, and styled a whore-monger, asked the parson whether he had a cheese in his house; and being answered in the affirmative, ‘Pray,’ says he, ‘does that one cheese make you a cheese-monger?’
Whore pipe. The penis.
Whow ball. A milk-maid: from their frequent use of the word whow, to make the cow stand still in milking. Ball is the supposed name of the cow.
Wibble. Bad drink.
Wibling’s witch. The four of clubs: from one James Wibling, who in the reign of King James I. grew rich by private gaming, and was commonly observed to have that card, and never to lose a game but when he had it not.
Wicket. A casement; also a little door.
Widow’s weeds. Mourning clothes of a peculiar fashion, denoting her state. A grass widow; a discarded mistress. a widow bewitched; a woman whose husband is abroad, and said, but not certainly known, to be dead.
Wife. A fetter fixed to one leg.
Wife in water colours. A mistress, or concubine; water colours being, like their engagements, easily effaced, or dissolved.
Wigannowns. A man wearing a large wig.
Wigsby. Wigsby; a man wearing a wig.
Wild rogues. Rogues trained up to stealing from their cradles.
Wild squirt. A looseness.
Wild-goose chase. A tedious uncertain pursuit, like the following a flock of wild geese, who are remarkably shy.
Willing tit. A free horse, or a coming girl.
Willow. Poor, and of no reputation. To wear the willow; to be abandoned by a lover or mistress.
Win. A penny,
To win. To steal. The cull has won a couple of rum glimsticks; the fellow has stolen a pair of fine candlesticks.
Wind. To raise the wind; to procure mony.
Winder. Transportation for life. The blowen has napped a winder for a lift; the wench is transported for life for stealing in a shop.
Wind-mill. The fundament. She has no fortune but her mills; i.e. she has nothing but her **** and a*se.
Windfall. A legacy, or any accidental accession of property.
Windmills in the head. Foolish projects.
Window peeper. A collector of the window tax.
Windward passage. One who uses or navigates the windward passage; a sodomite.
Windy. Foolish. A windy fellow; a simple fellow.
Wink. To tip one the wink; to give a signal by winking the eye.
Winnings. Plunder, goods, or money acquired by theft.
Winter cricket. A taylor.
Winter’s day. He is like a winter’s day, short and dirty.
Wipe. A blow, or reproach. I’ll give you a wipe on the chops. That story gave him a fine wipe. Also a handkerchief.
Wiper. A handkerchief. Cant.
Wiper drawer. A pickpocket, one who steals handkerchiefs. He drew a broad, narrow, cam, or specked wiper; he picked a pocket of a broad, narrow, cambrick, or coloured handkerchief.
To wiredraw. To lengthen out or extend any book, letter, or discourse.
Wise. As wise as Waltham’s calf, that ran nine miles to suck a bull.
Wise men of gotham. Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire; its magistrates are said to have attempted to hedge in a cuckow; a bush, called the cuckow’s bush, is still shewn in support of the tradition. A thousand other ridiculous stories are told of the men of Gotham.
Wiseacre. A foolish conceited fellow.
Wiseacre’s hall. Gresham college.
Wit. He has as much wit as three folks, two fools and a madman.
Witches. Silver. Witcher bubber; a silver bowl. Witcher tilter; a silver-hilted sword. Witcher cully; a silversmith.
To wobble. To boil. Pot wobbler; one who boils a pot.
Wolf in the breast. An extraordinary mode of imposition, sometimes practised in the country by strolling women, who have the knack of counterfeiting extreme pain, pretending to have a small animal called a wolf in their breasts, which is continually gnawing them.
Wolf in the stomach. A monstrous or canine appetite.
Wood. In a wood; bewildered, in a maze, in a peck of troubles, puzzled, or at a loss what course to take in any business. To look over the wood; to ascend the pulpit, to preach: I shall look over the wood at St. James’s on Sunday next. To look through the wood; to stand in the pillory. Up to the arms in wood; in the pillory.
Wood pecker. A bystander, who bets whilst another plays.
Woodcock. A taylor with a long bill.
Wooden habeas. A coffin. A man who dies in prison is said to go out with a wooden habeas. He went out with a wooden habeas; i.e. his coffin.
Wooden spoon. (Cambridge.) The last junior optime. See Wrangler, optime.
Wooden horse. To fide the wooden horse was a military punishment formerly in use. This horse consisted of two or more planks about eight feet long, fixed together so as to form a sharp ridge or angle, which answered to the body of the horse. It was supported by four posts, about six feet long, for legs. A head, neck, and tail, rudely cut in wood, were added, which completed the appearance of a horse. On this sharp ridge delinquents were mounted, with their hands tied behind them; and to steady them (as it was said), and lest the horse should kick them off, one or more firelocks were tied to each leg. In this situation they were sometimes condemned to sit an hour or two; but at length it having been found to injure the soldiers materially, and sometimes to rupture them, it was left off about the time of the accession of King George I. A wooden horse was standing in the Parade at Portsmouth as late as the year 1750.
Wooden ruff. The pillory. See Norway neckcloth.
Wooden surtout. A coilin.
Woman of the town, or Woman of pleasure. A prostitute.
Woman and her husband. A married couple, where the woman is bigger than her husband.
Woman’s conscience. Never satisfied.
Woman of all work. Sometimes applied to a female servant, who refuses none of her master’s commands.
Woolbird. A sheep. Cant.
Wool gathering. Your wits are gone a woolgathering; saying to an absent man, one in a reverie, or absorbed in thought.
Woolley crown. A soft-headed fellow.
Word grubbers. Verbal critics, and also persons who use hard words in common discourse.
Word pecker. A punster, one who plays upon words.
Word of mouth. To drink by word of mouth, i.e. out of the bowl or bottle instead, of a glass.
World. All the world and his wife; every body, a great company.
Worm. To worm out; to obtain the knowledge of a secret by craft, also to undermine or supplant. He is gone to the diet of worms; he is dead and buried, or gone to Rothisbone.
Wranglers. At Cambridge the first class (generally of twelve) at the annual examination for a degree. There are three classes of honours, wranglers, senior optimes, and junior optimes. Wranglers are said to be born with golden spoons in their mouths, the senior optimes with silver, and the junior with leaden ones. The last junior optime is called the wooden spoon. Those who are not qualified for honors are either in the Gulf (that is, meritorious, but not deserving of being in the three first classes) or among the pollot [Proofreaders Note: Greek Letters] the many. See Pluck, apostles, &C.
Wrap rascal. A red cloak, called also a roquelaire.
Wrapt up in warm flannel. Drunk with spirituous liquors. He was wrapt up in the tail of his mother’s smock; saying of any one remarkable for his success with the ladies. To be wrapt up in any one: to have a good opinion of him, or to be under his influence.
Wrinkle. A wrinkle-bellied whore; one who has had a number of bastards: child-bearing leaves wrinkles in a woman’s belly. To take the wrinkles out of any one’s belly; to fill it out by a hearty meal. You have one wrinkle more in your a-se; i.e. you have one piece of knowledge more than you had, every fresh piece of knowledge being supposed by the vulgar naturalists to add a wrinkle to that part.
Wry mouth and a pissen pair of breeches. Hanging.
Wry neck day. Hanging day.
Wyn. See Win.
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The theme for television's 'The Apprentice', is taken from which ballet by Prokoviev? | Sergei Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet - Classic FM
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Sergei Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet
There are many things a composer can do to upset the general equilibrium of the play or text they’re setting. Find out more about Prokofiev 's Romeo and Juliet, today used as theme tune to The Apprentice. Watch and listen to different recordings and download your favourite.
These include excising huge chunks of text or leaving entire characters on the cutting-room floor, unable to do them musical justice. However, Prokofiev ’s first big idea for his ballet music for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet was probably just a little beyond the pale: he was going to change it to a happy ending. In the end, he considered, almost certainly correctly, that this would have been a step too far. He wrote the work for the Kirov Ballet , but the huge demands it placed on the dancers meant it wasn’t performed for a few years, receiving its premiere in Brno in 1938. Prokofiev wrote new sections for a 1940 production and it was then that the music really took off, eventually forming the basis of three popular suites.
The centrepiece of the work, musically, must be The Montagues and Capulets (sometimes known as The Dance of the Knights), music that has possibly not been matched for sheer drama since it was written. It has gained notoriety as the theme tune to the television programme The Apprentice and is also the music to which the players from Sunderland Athletic Football club run onto the pitch at home games.
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| Romeo and Juliet |
Who in the 1930's wrote the novel 'Cakes And Ale'? | Six of the best: pieces of classical music inspired by Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet | Classical-Music.com
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23 April 2016 is the 400th anniversary of the death of England’s most famous playwright. We take a look at six settings of his most famous tragedy, Romeo and Juliet.
Galina Ulanova and Yury Zhdanov in Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet
1. Prokofiev
While the ‘Dance of the Knights’ may be more widely known as the theme from The Apprentice these days, there’s significantly more to Prokofiev ’s 1936 ballet than Alan Sugar. Romeo i Dzhuletta is a dramatic score that strips all sentimentality from Shakespeare’s tale of young love - odd for a piece that was originally intended to have a happy ending. In the end, Prokofiev - with a small amount of guidance from Communist party officials - decided that such plot meddling was an insult to Shakespeare and stuck with the miserable ending instead.
2. Berlioz
Hector Berlioz ’s Roméo et Juliette was completed in 1839. A combination of symphony and opera, the piece remains essentially symphonic in construction - the orchestra deals with the drama of the plot, while the vocal parts are used comparatively sparingly until the finale, when they come out in force.
Berlioz was first moved to compose the piece in 1827 after attending a performance of Garrick’s Romeo and Juliet in London. Juliet was played by the actress Harriet Smithson, with whom Berlioz (who spoke barely any English) fell instantly and deeply in love - a pair of star cross'd lover indeed. They married in 1833 (until Berlioz started an affair and the marriage broke up).
Charles Kemble and Harriet Smithson as Romeo and Juliet
3. Tchaikovsky
The love theme from Tchaikovsky ’s Fantasy Overture is one of the most recognisable and often borrowed ever, featuring in everything from The Jazz Singer to SpongeBob SquarePants. Yet the work received a decidedly lukewarm reception when it first premiered in 1870. A Viennese performance of 1876 was actually hissed by the audience. Ever passionate, Tchaikovsky reworked the overture three times. A third and final version dating from 1880 is the one that is used today.
4. Gounod
Despite a few teething problems (difficulties in sourcing an appropriate Romeo, and the composer’s last-minute re-composition of the entire final act), Roméo et Juliette proved to be one of Gounod’s most successful operas. The opera remains largely true to the plot of the original, apart from the final scene in the tomb: in Gounod’s version, the doomed couple share a moment of consciousness long enough for a final duet, before Romeo succumbs to his poison and Juliet stabs herself. Cheery stuff.
5. Bernstein
Leonard Bernstein ’s West Side Story is one of the most well-known modern musical reworkings of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Librettist Stephen Sondheim transposed the action to a poor neighbourhood of 1950s New York, with the Polish-American Jets (Montagues) pitted against the Puerto Rican Sharks (Capulets) in a gritty emulation of real-life gang violence. Dancing aside, the production’s commitment to realism was admirable: in the original 1957 Broadway production, the performers playing Jets and Sharks were kept apart backstage so they’d have no chance to socialise.
6. Rota
The soundtrack for Franco Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet received nearly as much critical praise as the film itself, receiving nominations for BAFTA and Golden Globe awards in 1968-9. Although it incorporates a number of musical forms - songs, anthems, dances, and even a piece for a strolling trombone player - the most well-known element is undoubtedly the Love Theme (AKA ‘What Is a Youth’, AKA ‘A Time For Us’, AKA ‘Ai Giochi Addio’). It’s a tune that has been variously described by critics as ‘brilliant’, ‘moving’, and ‘lush’ - and by the BBC Music Magazine team as ‘heart-rending’, ‘poignant’ and ‘saccharine’. Love it or hate it - it’s one hell of an earworm.
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Where in the human body would you find the bone called the 'Calcaneus'? | Calcaneus (Heel Bone) Fractures-OrthoInfo - AAOS
Copyright 2016 American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons
Calcaneus (Heel Bone) Fractures
A fracture of the calcaneus, or heel bone, can be a painful and disabling injury. This type of fracture commonly occurs during a high-energy event—such as a car crash or a fall from a ladder—when the heel is crushed under the weight of the body. When this occurs, the heel can widen, shorten, and become deformed.
Calcaneus fractures can be quite severe. Treatment often involves surgery to reconstruct the normal anatomy of the heel and restore mobility so that patients can return to normal activity. But even with appropriate treatment, some fractures may result in long-term complications, such as pain, swelling, loss of motion, and arthritis.
Anatomy
Normal foot anatomy.
The bones of the feet are commonly divided into three parts: the hindfoot, midfoot, and forefoot. Seven bones — called tarsals — make up the hindfoot and midfoot. The calcaneus (heel bone) is the largest of the tarsal bones in the foot. It lies at the back of the foot (hindfoot) below the three bones that make up the ankle joint. These three bones are the:
Tibia — shinbone
Fibula—smaller bone in the lower leg
Talus—small foot bone that works as a hinge between the tibia and the fibula
Together, the calcaneus and the talus form the subtalar joint. The subtalar joint allows side-to-side movement of the hindfoot and is especially important for balance on uneven surfaces.
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Description
Calcaneus fractures are uncommon. Fractures of the tarsal bones account for only about 2% of all adult fractures and only half of tarsal fractures are calcaneus fractures.
A fracture may cause the heel bone to widen and shorten. In some cases, a fracture may also enter the subtalar joint in the foot. When this occurs, damage to the articular cartilage covering the joint may cause long-term complications such as chronic pain, arthritis, and loss of motion.
Severity
The calcaneus is most often fractured during a:
Fall from a height
Twisting injury to the ankle
Motor vehicle collision
The severity of a fracture can vary. For example, a simple twist of the ankle may result in a single crack in the bone. The force of a head-on car collision, however, may result in the bone being shattered (comminuted fracture).
Similar fractures can result from different mechanisms. For example, if you land on your feet from a fall, your body's weight is directed downward. This drives the talus bone directly into the calcaneus. In a motor vehicle crash, the calcaneus is driven up against the talus if the heel is crushed against the floorboard. In both cases, the fracture patterns are similar. As a rule, the greater the impact, the more the calcaneus is damaged.
In a high-energy fracture, other injuries, such as fractures of the spine, hip, or other heel, can occur.
(Left) In some injuries, the talus is forced downward and acts like a wedge to fracture the calcaneus. (Right) This computerized reconstruction of a calcaneus fracture shows the amount of damage that can occur.
Heel deformity
Inability to put weight on the heel or walk
With some minor calcaneus fractures, the pain may not be enough to prevent you from walking — but you may limp. This is because your Achilles tendon acts through the calcaneus to support your body weight. If, however, your calcaneus is deformed by the injury, your muscle and tendon cannot generate enough power to support your weight. Your foot and ankle will feel unstable, and you will walk differently.
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Doctor Examination
It is important that you tell your doctor the circumstances of your injury. For example, if you fell from a ladder, how far did you fall?
It is also important that you tell your doctor if you have any other injuries or medical problems, such as diabetes, or if you take medications or smoke.
Physical Examination
After discussing your symptoms and medical history, your doctor will perform a careful examination. He or she will:
Examine your foot and ankle to see if your skin was damaged or punctured from the injury.
Check your pulse at key points of the foot to be sure that there is a good blood supply to the foot and toes.
Check to see if you can move your toes, and can feel things on the bottom of your foot.
Determine whether you have injured any other areas of your body by examining the rest of your injured leg, your other leg, pelvis, and spine.
Tests
Imaging studies will help confirm the diagnosis of a calcaneus fracture:
X-rays. This test is the most common and widely available diagnostic imaging technique. X-rays create images of dense structures, such as bone. An x-ray can show if your calcaneus is broken and whether the bones are displaced.
Computed tomography (CT) scans. Because of the complex anatomy of the calcaneus, a CT scan is routinely ordered after a fracture has been diagnosed on x-ray. A CT scan will produce a more detailed, cross-sectional image of your foot and can provide your doctor with valuable information about the severity of your fracture. This information will help your doctor recommend the best plan for treatment.
Your doctor may share both your x-rays and CT scans with you to help you better understand the nature and severity of your injury.
Your doctor will consider several factors in planning your treatment, including:
The cause of your injury
Your overall health
The severity of your injury
The extent of soft tissue damage
Because most calcaneus fractures cause the bone to widen and shorten, the goal of treatment is to restore the normal anatomy of the heel. In general, patients whose normal heel anatomy is restored have better outcomes. In most cases, recreating the normal heel anatomy involves surgery. Your doctor will discuss the different treatment options with you.
Nonsurgical Treatment
Nonsurgical treatment may be recommended if the pieces of broken bone have not been displaced by the force of the injury.
Immobilization. A cast, splint, or brace will hold the bones in your foot in proper position while they heal. You may have to wear a cast for 6 to 8 weeks — or possibly longer. During this time, you will not be able to put any weight on your foot until the bone is completely healed.
Surgical Treatment
If the bones have shifted out of place (displaced), your doctor may recommend surgery.
Surgery to repair a calcaneus fracture can restore the normal shape of the bone but is sometimes associated with complications, such as wound healing problems, infection, and nerve damage. Nonsurgical treatment of some fractures, however, can also lead to long-term complications, such as pain, arthritis, and a limp. Your doctor will review the details of your injury and talk with you about the risks and benefits of surgical versus nonsurgical treatment.
Timing of surgery. If the skin around your fracture has not been broken, your doctor may recommend waiting until swelling has gone down before having surgery. Elevating your leg and keeping it immobilized for several days will decrease swelling. It will also give stretched skin a chance to recover. Waiting before the operation may improve your overall recovery from surgery and decrease your risk of infection.
Open fractures, however, expose the fracture site to the environment and must be treated immediately. They require surgery to clean the wound and remove damaged tissue
Early surgery is also often recommended for an avulsion fracture. Although uncommon, a piece of the calcaneus can be pulled off when the Achilles tendon splits away from the bone (avulsion). For this type of fracture, emergent surgery can decrease the risk of injury to the skin around the Achilles tendon.
Surgical procedure. The following procedures are used for various types of calcaneus fractures:
Percutaneous screw fixation. If the bone pieces are large, they can sometimes be moved back into place without making a large incision. Special screws are then inserted through small incisions to hold the fracture together.
Open reduction and internal fixation. During this operation, an open incision is made to reposition (reduce) the bones into their normal alignment. They are held together with wires or metal plates and screws.
(Left) A displaced fracture of the calcaneus. (Right) The fracture has been reduced and the bones held in place with screws.
In this x-ray, the bone fragments have been realigned and held in place with metal plates and screws.
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Recovery
Bones have a remarkable capacity to heal. The more severe your injury, however, the longer your recovery may be. Patients with more severe fractures are also more likely to suffer some degree of permanent loss of function, regardless of treatment.
Pain Management
After surgery, you will feel some pain. This is a natural part of the healing process. Your doctor and nurses will work to reduce your pain, which can help you recover from surgery faster.
Medications are often prescribed for short-term pain relief after surgery. Many types of medicines are available to help manage pain, including opioids, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs), and local anesthetics. Your doctor may use a combination of these medications to improve pain relief, as well as minimize the need for opioids.
Be aware that although opioids help relieve pain after surgery, they are a narcotic and can be addictive. Opioid dependency and overdose has become a critical public health issue in the U.S. It is important to use opioids only as directed by your doctor. As soon as your pain begins to improve, stop taking opioids. Talk to your doctor if your pain has not begun to improve within a few days of your surgery.
Rehabilitation
Whether your treatment is surgical or nonsurgical, your rehabilitation will be very similar. The time it takes to return to daily activities will vary depending on the type and severity of the fracture and whether you have other injuries.
Some patients can begin weight-bearing activities a few weeks after injury or surgery; others may need to wait 3 months or more before putting weight on the heel. Most patients are able to begin partial weight bearing between 6 and 10 weeks after injury or surgery.
Early motion. Many doctors encourage motion of the foot and ankle early in the recovery period. For example, you may be instructed to begin moving the affected area as soon as your pain allows. If you have had surgery, you may be instructed to begin moving the affected area as soon as the wound heals to your doctor's satisfaction.
Physical therapy. Specific exercises can help improve the range of motion in your foot and ankle, and strengthen supporting muscles. Although they are often painful at the beginning and progress may be difficult, exercises are required in order for you to resume normal activities.
Weight bearing. When you begin walking, you may need to use crutches, a cane, or a walker and/or wear a special boot. It is very important to follow your doctor's instructions for walking on your foot. If you put weight on your foot too soon, the bone pieces may move out of place and you might require surgery. If you have had surgery, the screws might loosen or break and the bone may collapse. This may not occur the first time you walk on it but, if the bone is not healed and you continue to bear weight, the metal will eventually break.
Six months after surgery, this patient's hardware has failed. Several screws have broken and the calcaneus has collapsed. This patient required major reconstruction, and today walks with a limp and has little motion in the foot.
Complications
Complications often occur with calcaneus fractures. Minor complications include:
Small or temporary areas of delayed wound healing
Nerve irritation around the incision
Tendon irritation
Failure of the wound to heal
Infection
Posttraumatic arthritis (with or without surgery)
It is important to tell your doctor if you are a smoker. Smoking affects both bone and wound healing. With or without surgery, your bone may take longer to heal if you smoke.
Additional surgery is usually required in cases of infection or wound healing complications. If all attempts to resolve an infection or a wound healing complication fail, an amputation may be necessary.
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Outcomes
If your injury is minor, such as a crack in the bone with little muscle damage, you may be able to resume normal activities from 3 to 4 months after surgery. If your fracture is severe, however, it may take from 1 to 2 years before recovery is complete.
Despite the best efforts of the doctor and patient, normal foot and ankle motion is rarely regained after a severe fracture and patients do not typically resume their pre-injury level of function. A patient who is not very active might tolerate a foot that is not normal. On the other hand, a patient whose job or recreational activities require a lot of walking or climbing will notice more.
Common Problems
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Improving Outcomes
There is no universal agreement among experts as to the best treatment method for calcaneus fractures. No single method works the same for everyone. Patients whose x-rays show good healing and normal heel anatomy often have ongoing symptoms after treatment. On the other hand, the calcaneus can look quite deformed on an x-ray, but the patient may have few, if any, symptoms.
Studies have compared results in patients whose fractures were treated with and without surgery. Some studies show a significant benefit of surgery, while other studies show less benefit for certain patients. Researchers continue to look for ways to improve the outcomes of treatment for different types of calcaneus fractures, as well as for patients who smoke or have other health considerations. Your doctor will talk with you about the best treatment options in your case.
| Heel |
Which popular film actor born in 1918 had the real name Willian Franklin Beedle Jnr.? | Achilles Tendon (Human Anatomy): Picture, Definition, Injuries, Pain, and More
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The Achilles tendon is a tough band of fibrous tissue that connects the calf muscles to the heel bone (calcaneus). The Achilles tendon is also called the calcaneal tendon.
The gastrocnemius and soleus muscles (calf muscles) unite into one band of tissue, which becomes the Achilles tendon at the low end of the calf. The Achilles tendon then inserts into the calcaneus. Small sacs of fluid called bursae cushion the Achilles tendon at the heel.
The Achilles tendon is the largest and strongest tendon in the body. When the calf muscles flex, the Achilles tendon pulls on the heel. This movement allows us to stand on our toes when walking, running, or jumping. Despite its strength, the Achilles tendon is also vulnerable to injury, due to its limited blood supply and the high tensions placed on it.
Achilles Tendon Conditions
Achilles tendon tear : Tears of the Achilles tendon can be tiny (microtears), or large, causing pain, swelling, and impaired movement. They may occur suddenly during activity, or gradually over time.
Achilles tendon rupture : A complete rupture of the Achilles tendon may make a "pop" sound, followed by pain and swelling of the lower leg. Treating an Achilles tendon rupture requires surgery or long-term immobilization of the ankle.
Achilles tendinitis (tendonitis): Frequent activity (running or walking) can gradually inflame the end of the Achilles tendon, causing pain and stiffness at the back of the heel. Rest, ice, and stretching may speed healing, which can take weeks.
Achilles peritendonitis: Similar to Achilles tendonitis, but inflammation and pain occur in the tissue surrounding the tendon, often two or more inches above the heel.
Achilles tendinosis: Gradual thickening of the Achilles tendon without apparent inflammation, due to aging or overuse. Despite the thickening, the tendon is weakened and prone to further injury or rupture.
Achilles tendinopathy : A general term for tendinitis or tendinosis affecting the Achilles tendon.
Achilles or heel (calcaneal) bursitis : Low-riding shoes can irritate the bursa, a sac of fluid cushioning the Achilles tendon at the heel. Pain in the back of the heel, worse with shoes on, is the common symptom.
Continued
Achilles Tendon Tests
Physical examination : To look for Achilles tendon problems, an examiner checks for pain, swelling, warmth, thickening, or discoloration around the heel and leg. A knot on the back of the leg may be present with Achilles tendon rupture. Most cases of tendinopathy without a rupture can be diagnosed by physical exam and often do not need further testing.
Thompson test : Lying prone (on one’s stomach) or while kneeling on a chair, an examiner squeezes the calf. The end of the foot should move down in response; if it does not, an Achilles tendon rupture may be present.
Knee flexion (Matles) test: A person lies face down and bends the knee slowly to a right angle. During this movement, the toe end of the foot should point away from the leg slightly; if it doesn't, an Achilles tendon rupture may be present.
Magnetic resonance imaging ( MRI scan ): An MRI scanner uses a high-powered magnet and a computer to create highly detailed images of the ankle and leg. An MRI scan is the best test to diagnose an Achilles tendon rupture or other problems but it may not always detect tendinopathy.
Achilles tendon ultrasound : A probe on the skin reflects high-frequency sound waves off the ankle, producing images of the Achilles tendon. Ultrasound can often diagnose an Achilles tendon rupture.
Computed tomography ( CT scan ): A CT scanner takes multiple X-rays, and a computer constructs detailed images of the ankle and leg. An MRI scan is superior to a CT scan in diagnosing Achilles tendon problems.
X-ray film : A plain X-ray film may identify problems with the bones or ankle joint, but it cannot diagnose Achilles tendon problems.
Continued
Achilles Tendon Treatments
RICE therapy : Most Achilles tendon injuries can be treated with RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression with a sports bandage, and Elevation.
Pain relievers : Over-the-counter medicines like acetaminophen (Tylenol), ibuprofen (Motrin), and naproxen (Aleve) can lessen the pain of most Achilles tendon problems. For more severe pain, prescription pain relievers may be necessary.
Heat : Alternating ice and heat therapy may improve the pain of bursitis near the Achilles tendon.
Footwear: Wearing shoes with good support that are right for your feet may help avoid continual injury to the Achilles tendon. Custom-made orthotics, heel lifts, and certain splints and braces are sometimes helpful.
Physical Therapy: Although modifying or decreasing activity is important, particular stretches and exercises may be helpful to rehabilitate tendon problems, especially when they are persistent.
Immobilization : Many moderate to severe Achilles tendon conditions require immobilization of the ankle joint. This may require wearing a special boot or a leg cast for several weeks.
Achilles tendon surgery : Surgery can often reattach a ruptured Achilles tendon. Following surgery, immobilization of the ankle is necessary for several weeks.
WebMD Image Collection Reviewed by Varnada Karriem-Norwood, MD on November 15, 2014
Sources
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Who became British Prime Minister on the 22nd. January 1924? | The 22nd of January 1924 AD, Ramsay MacDonald becomes Britain's 1st Labour PM
Ramsay MacDonald becomes Britain's 1st Labour PM
Leicester , Leicestershire The 22nd of January 1924 AD
Ramsay MacDonald, an underdog from the start, was an unlikely prime minister. 19th Century Scottish society was woven together with an austere Presbyterian fabric, and as an illegitimate son of farmer John MacDonald and housemaid Anne Ramsay, he stood at a disadvantage. That he would became the Labour Party�s first prime minister owed much to his socialist principals and adroit electioneering, learned whilst private secretary to Thomas Lough, Liberal MP for West Islington. Reaching the summit of the vertiginous climb of the British parliamentary model, was a statuesque achievement for a humble boy from Lossiemouth .
MacDonald became politically active while living in Bristol . There, he joined the Democratic Federation (soon to be the Social Democratic Foundation). Fundamentalist and radical, his membership billeted him in the leftist sphere of political ideology. Moving to London in 1886, MacDonald saw his radicalism wane. But his socialist principals were cast in granite.
C.L Fitzgerald�s Socialist Union heavily influenced Ramsay MacDonald �s parliamentary standpoint. This was a more pragmatic stance on socialism, endorsing the Westminster model. MacDonald�s profile soared during his time with Lough. He made connections, alliances with Liberal MPs, pamphleteers and Radical newspapers. As a Fabianist, he would deliver lectures in harmony with Labour�s early leftist manifesto.
Elsewhere, the political topography was changing. This was certainly true of the socialist movement, which was now coalescing round organisations like the TUC�s Labour Electoral Association, and Keir Hardie �s Independent Labour Party. MacDonald�s positioned himself as potential Labour leader when he was leader of the Labour Representation Committee (LRC). But it wasn�t until 1906 that he won his first seat. His Leicester victory was the product of the Labour/Liberal alliance. Five years later he became leader of the Parliamentary Labour Party.
Life was not easy for MacDonald. His wife died, exerting huge personal strain on him. And in resigning from his position before the onset of the First World War he endured a number of personal attacks � his illegitimacy was seized upon. In 1922, he was once again leader of the party. Labour were now the preeminent opposition to the Conservatives. By 1924, Labour were in power for the first time. It was all too brief, lasting less than a year after scare stories in the press buried the minority government. But MacDonald had proven that his party were fit for purpose. Socialism and leftist politics were now electable.
| Ramsay MacDonald |
The Marina Bay Circuit used in Formula One for the first time in 2008, is the venue for which Grand Prix? | History of Stanley Baldwin - GOV.UK
GOV.UK
Stanley Baldwin Conservative 1935 to 1937, 1924 to 1929, 1923 to 1924
Born
3 August 1867, Bewdley, Worcesterhire
Died
14 December 1947, Stourport-on-Severn, Worcestershire
Dates in office
1935 to 1937, 1924 to 1929, 1923 to 1924
Political party
Conservative
Major acts
Trade Disputes Act 1927: following General Strike, introduced to limit powers and of trade union movement. Affected funding of Labour party too.
Government of India Act 1935: gave limited powers of self-government. Heavily opposed by Winston Churchill.
Public Order Act 1936: introduced to deal with street disturbances following marches by supporters of British Union Fascists and their opponents.
Interesting facts
He served under 3 monarchs.
“There is no country … where there are not somewhere lovers of freedom who look to this country to carry the torch and keep it burning bright until such time as they may again be able to light their extinguished torches at our flame. We owe it not only to our own people but to the world to preserve our soul for that.”
Stanley Baldwin had a double inheritance. His father’s family were wealthy industrialists and he helped his father create what was, from 1902, one of Britain’s largest iron and steel firms, Baldwins Ltd. His mother’s family had artistic and literary interests: his uncles included the artists Sir Edward Burne-Jones and Sir Edward Poynter, and Rudyard Kipling was a cousin.
His father, Alfred Baldwin, was also Conservative MP for West Worcestershire (Bewdley) from 1892. On Alfred’s death in 1908, Stanley succeeded him as MP. His business experience helped his appointment as Financial Secretary of the Treasury in 1917, in David Lloyd George ’s wartime coalition government. Concerned at the financial costs of the war, under the false name of ‘FST’ in a 1919 letter in The Times he appealed for voluntary donations by the rich to help reduce the war debt. He himself gave a fifth of his own wealth.
In 1921 he entered the Cabinet as President of the Board of Trade, but in October 1922 he played a leading part in a Conservative rebellion that overthrew the coalition government and the premiership of Lloyd George. In Andrew Bonar Law ’s Conservative government he became Chancellor of the Exchequer.
When Bonar Law retired through illness in May 1923, Baldwin became Prime Minister. Determined to help reduce unemployment, he called a general election in November to seek support for a policy of trade protection. Failing to retain a majority, his government resigned in January 1924. Its replacement, the first Labour government also lacked an overall majority and, after it was defeated in another general election in October 1924, he returned as Prime Minister.
His second Conservative government was responsible for several notable achievements: the Locarno non-aggression pact, expansion of pensions and house building, local government reform and extending the right to vote to women aged over 21. Baldwin’s particular concern was to reduce social tensions and secure industrial peace. Although faced by the General Strike in May 1926, his combination of firmness and conciliation guaranteed its defeat.
After the Conservatives lost the May 1929 election, Baldwin endured a severe party crisis, with attempts to force his resignation as party leader. Against considerable criticism from the main popular newspapers, he successfully fought back with a still-famous condemnation of the great ‘press lords’.
During the 1931 financial and political crisis, he contributed to the formation of a coalition government, led by the former Labour Prime Minister, James Ramsay MacDonald . As Lord President of the Council, Baldwin at first sought to promote international disarmament, warning of the difficulty of defence against air attack: “the bomber will always get through”. However, as the threat from Nazi Germany became obvious, he accepted the need to arm again and introduced new defence programmes each year from 1934 to 1937, against Labour and Liberal opposition.
He became Prime Minister of the national government in June 1935 and in the autumn he won a general election, promising to continue to improve national defences. When seeking to avoid war with Mussolini’s Italy over Abyssinia, in order to focus effort against Hitler’s Germany, his Cabinet was embarrassed by an early disclosure of a compromise settlement (the Hore-Laval pact). In retrospect, the national government’s policy of combining armed deterrence with efforts to bind Hitler and Mussolini into a general European settlement seemed not enough. After the Second World War broke out in 1939, Baldwin became a leading target for those – especially Winston Churchill – who thought more could have been done to speed up rearmament and prevent war.
Faced in late 1936 with King Edward VIII’s proposed marriage to the twice-divorced Mrs Wallis Simpson, which met widespread disapproval, he took the lead in making it plain that if the king persisted he should give up the throne. His management of this abdication crisis was highly praised.
Baldwin’s most notable position was his support of parliamentary democracy during times when revolution and dictatorship were common European experiences. In the 1920s he sought to prevent class conflict and mix the Labour movement into the party system and, in the 1930s, he became an international figure in the defence of democratic and Christian values. From 1938 to 1939 he led a major appeal to provide financial assistance for Jewish refugees from Nazi brutality. His post-1939 reputation as a guilty man who failed to resist Hitler or to rearm persists as a popular myth, but has been overtaken by modern historical scholarship.
On his retirement from government and party politics in May 1937, he was created Earl Baldwin of Bewdley.
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Which film star turned down the role of 'Matt Dillon' in 'Gunsmoke' but recommended his friend James Arness for the part? | James Arness - Biography - IMDb
James Arness
Biography
Showing all 63 items
Jump to: Overview (5) | Mini Bio (1) | Spouse (2) | Trade Mark (3) | Trivia (48) | Personal Quotes (4)
Overview (5)
6' 7" (2.01 m)
Mini Bio (1)
American leading man famed as the star of one of the longest-running shows in U.S. television history, Gunsmoke (1955). Born of Norwegian heritage (the family name, Aurness, had formerly been Aursness) in Minneapolis, Minnesota to Rolf and Ruth Duesler Aurness. His father was a traveling salesman of medical supplies and his mother later became a newspaper columnist. James attended West High School in Minneapolis. Although he appeared in school plays, he had no interest in performing, and dreamed instead of going to sea. After high school, he attended one semester at Beloit College before receiving his draft notice in 1943. He entered the army and trained at Camp Wheeler, Georgia, before shipping out for North Africa. After landing at Casablanca, Arness joined the 3rd Infantry Division in time for the invasion of Anzio. Ten days after the invasion, Arness was severely wounded in the leg and foot by German machine-gun fire. His wounds, which plagued him the rest of his life, resulted in his medical discharge from the army. While recuperating in a Clinton, Iowa hospital, he was visited by his younger brother Peter (later to gain fame as actor Peter Graves ), who suggested he take a radio course at the University of Minnesota. James did so, and a teacher recommended him for a job as an announcer at a Minneapolis radio station. Though seemingly headed for success in radio, he followed a boyhood friend's suggestion and went with the friend to Hollywood in hopes of getting work as film extras. He studied at the Bliss-Hayden Theatre School under actor Harry Hayden , and while appearing in a play there was spotted by agent Leon Lance. Lance got the actor a role as Loretta Young 's brother in The Farmer's Daughter (1947). The director of that film, H.C. Potter , recommended that he drop the "u" from his last name and soon thereafter the actor was officially known as James Arness. Little work followed this break, and Arness became something of a beach bum, living on the shore at San Onofre and spending his days surfing. He began taking his acting career more seriously when he began to receive fan mail following the release of the Young picture. He appeared in a production of "Candida" at the Pasadena Community Playhouse, and married his leading lady, Virginia Chapman . She pressed him to study acting and to work harder in pursuit of a career, but Arness has been consistent in ascribing his success to luck. He began to get small roles with frequency, often, due to his size, villainous characters. Most notable among these was that of the space alien in The Thing from Another World (1951). While playing a Greek warrior in a play, Arness was spotted by agent Charles K. Feldman , who represented John Wayne . Feldman introduced Arness to Wayne, who put the self-described 6' 6" actor under personal contract. Arness played several roles over the next few years for and with Wayne, whom he considered a mentor. In 1955, Wayne recommended Arness for the lead role of Matt Dillon in the TV series Gunsmoke (1955). (Contrary to urban legend, Wayne himself was never offered the role.) Arness at first declined, thinking a TV series could derail his growing film career, but Wayne argued for the show, and Arness accepted. His portrayal of stalwart marshal Dillon became an iconic figure in American television and the series, on the air for twenty seasons, is, as of 2008, the longest-running dramatic series in U.S. television history. Arness became world-famous and years later reprised the character in a series of TV movies. After the surprising cancellation of "Gunsmoke" in 1975, Arness jumped immediately into another successful (though much shorter-lived) Western project, a TV-movie-miniseries-series combination known as "How The West Was Won." A brief modern police drama, McClain's Law (1981), followed, and Arness played his mentor John Wayne's role in Red River (1988), a remake of the Wayne classic. Following the aforementioned "Gunsmoke" TV movies (the last in 1994, when Arness was 71), Arness basically retired. His marriage to Virginia Chapman ended in divorce in 1960. They had three children together, one of whom, Jenny Lee, died a suicide in 1975. Arness subsequently married Janet Surtrees in 1978.
- IMDb Mini Biography By: Jim Beaver <[email protected]>
Spouse (2)
The role of Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke (1955).
Trivia (48)
Honorary United States Marshal, "in recognition of his unique contribution to the image and traditions of the U.S. Marshal's Service".
Became U.S. Marshal Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke (1955) after John Wayne suggested Arness to play it. (Wayne himself, contrary to legend, was never offered the role.).
His daughter and actress, Jenny Lee Arness , committed suicide on Monday, May 12th, 1975.
According to an article on TV westerns in Time magazine (March 30, 1959), Arness stood 6' 7", weighed 235 lbs, and had chest-waist-hips measurements of 48-36-36. However, Arness usually gave his own height as 6' 6" in interviews.
Inducted (as a cast member of Gunsmoke (1955)) into the Hall of Great Western Performers of the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in 1981.
On Friday, June 20th, 2003, Arness was honored at Los Angeles City Hall by the mayor, the 15 City Council members and the City Attorney with a resolution honoring his life's work as an actor and 60-year resident of Los Angeles. The colorful resolution included a depiction of a U.S. Marshal's badge and a salute to his work as Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke (1955) and its over-20-year duration as TV's longest-running drama series. It also recalled his heroism during World War II and thanked him for "leaving us with one of the most telling and realistic portraits ever created of the brave, tall man in the saddle who tames a western town as he searches for justice and peace." Arness called it "the most wonderful day in his life" and says the resolution is now framed and in a prominent place in his home. He received a standing ovation that morning.
Held the record for the longest continuous role portrayed by a single actor (20 years) on prime-time television (for Marshal Matt Dillon on the CBS western Gunsmoke (1955)), until Kelsey Grammer (Dr. Frasier Crane on Cheers (1982) and Frasier (1993)) tied the record in 2004 (at 20 years).
Was rightly touted as the tallest leading man in Hollywood, although this title has since been taken by other stars, mainly basketball players turned "actors."
Member of Beta Theta Pi Fraternity
Very, very often during his career, this huge actor was surrounded by co-stars standing on apple boxes or had to perform standing in a ditch just so he could be in a shot.
Father of Jenny Lee Arness (born May 23, 1950) and Rolf Aurness (born February 18, 1952), with Virginia Chapman . He also adopted her son from her first marriage, Craig (born 1946).
His status as a Republican disappointed Lady Bird Johnson , who was a fan of Gunsmoke (1955).
Attended Beloit College.
Did not attend the premiere of The Thing from Another World (1951) because he found his role as the Thing embarrassing. He often remarked that he felt his make up as "The Thing" made him look like a giant carrot.
Made four movies with his close friend John Wayne during the 1950s. He was also originally cast in Rock Hudson 's role opposite Wayne in The Undefeated (1969). Wayne personally recommended Arness for the lead role in Gunsmoke (1955), and filmed an introduction for the first episode.
Confirmed in a 2001 interview that he is completely retired from acting because he no longer has the stamina for it.
He never played the lead male role in a theatrical movie, only on the various televised incarnations of "Gunsmoke". In his theatrical films, he usually acted along tall leading men such as John Wayne , Robert Ryan and Jeff Chandler .
Although they never married, he had a long-term relationship and lived with actress Thordis Brandt .
Fought in the US Army during World War II, taking part in the landing at Anzio, Italy, where he was wounded. He received the Bronze Star; the Purple Heart; the European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with three bronze campaign stars; the World War II Victory Medal and the Combat Infantryman Badge.
He is survived by his wife, Janet Surtees of Brentwood, Los Angeles, California; son, Rolf Arness; stepson, Jim Surtees; six grandchildren, and a great grandchild. His adopted son, Craig, died in 2004 and his daughter Jenny died in 1975.
He was a longtime resident of the Brentwood area of Los Angeles, California with his second wife, Janet Surtees.
He married Virginia Chapman and adopted her son, Craig, by a previous marriage. They had daughter, Jenny Arness and son, Rolf Arness.
He attended public schools and graduated from West High School in Minneapolis, Minnesota in 1942. He studied for a year at Beloit College in Wisconsin before he was drafted into the United States Army during World War II as an infantryman. During the invasion of Anzio, Italy in 1944, his right leg was shattered by machine-gun fire, resulting in his losing part of his foot. He was hospitalized for a year and underwent surgeries to correct his leg, which left a limp. He was awarded the Bronze Star and Purple Heart for his services. His injury made it difficult for him to walk for extended stretches. When shooting movies or TV shows, any scenes that required extensive walking would be shot early in the morning, before his feet and knees started giving out.
He was the son of Rolf Aurness and Ruth Duesler who divorced in the 1940s.
He was a lifelong supporter of the Republican party.
He had a lifelong affiliation with the Methodist church.
He was said to be somewhat self-conscious about his stature and quite happy when they took measures to obscure his towering height while filming "Gunsmoke".
He is interred at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.
| John Wayne |
Which European city was known as Olisipio by the Romans? | James Arness Biography | Fandango
James Arness Biography
May 26, 1923 Birth Place:
Minneapolis, MN
Biography
American actor James Arness had an unremarkable Minneapolis childhood, but his wartime experiences shattered that normality - literally. During the battle of Anzio, Arness' right leg was peppered with machine gun bullets, and when the bones were set they didn't mend properly, leaving him with a slight but permanent limp. The trauma of the experience mellowed into aimlessness after the war. Arness became a "beach bum," lived out of his car, and worked intermittently as a salesman and carpenter. Acting was treated equally lackadaisically, but by 1947 Arness had managed to break into Hollywood on the basis of his rugged good looks and his 6'6" frame. Few of his screen roles were memorable, though one has become an object of cult worship: Arness was cast as the menacingly glowing space alien, described by one character as "an intellectual carrot," in The Thing (1951). For a time it looked as though Arness would continue to flounder in supporting roles, while his younger brother, actor Peter Graves , seemed destined for stardom. John Wayne took a liking to Arness when the latter was cast in Wayne's Big Jim McLain (1953). Wayne took it upon himself to line up work for Arness, becoming one of the withdrawn young actor's few friends. In 1955, Wayne was offered the role of Matt Dillon in the TV version of the popular radio series Gunsmoke. Wayne turned it down but recommended that Arness be cast and even went so far as to introduce him to the nation's viewers in a specially filmed prologue to the first Gunsmoke episode. Truth be told, Arness wasn't any keener than Wayne to be tied down to a weekly series, and as each season ended he'd make noises indicating he planned to leave. This game went on for each of the 20 seasons that Gunsmoke was on the air, the annual result being a bigger salary for Arness, more creative control over the program (it was being produced by his own company within a few years) and a sizeable chunk of the profits and residuals. When Gunsmoke finally left the air in 1975, Arness was the only one of the original four principals (including Amanda Blake , Milburn Stone and Dennis Weaver ) still appearing on the series. Arness made plans to take it easy after his two-decade Gunsmoke hitch, but was lured back to the tube for a one-shot TV movie, The Macahans (1976). This evolved into the six-hour miniseries How the West Was Won (1977) which in turn led to a single-season weekly series in 1978. All these incarnations starred Arness, back in the saddle as Zeb Macahan. The actor tried to alter his sagebrush image in a 1981 modern-day cop series, McClain's Law -- which being set in the southwest permitted Arness to ride a horse or two. It appeared, however that James Arness would always be Matt Dillon in the hearts and minds of fans, thus Arness obliged his still-faithful public with three Gunsmoke TV movies, the last one ( Gunsmoke: The Last Apache ) released in 1992. In between these assignments, James Arness starred in a 1988 TV-movie remake of the 1948 western film classic Red River , in which he filled the role previously played by his friend and mentor John Wayne .
— Hal Erickson, Rovi
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In which English county is the town of Saltash? | Saltash | Cornwall Guide
Saltash
Royal Albert Bridge - Saltash
Saltash is known as the Gateway to Cornwall, as it lies just across the River Tamar from Plymouth . Travellers arriving in the county by train will cross the Royal Albert Bridge , Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s famous railway bridge across the river completed in 1859. One of the first sites as you cross the bridge is the colurfully painted Union Inn with its Union Jack painted facade and murals. There is a pleasant shopping high street in the heart of the town.
Nearby 11th century motte-and-bailey Trematon Castle was built in a commanding position over the valley and Trematon Manor is a Georgian house worth a visit. In fact, the villages of Trematon and Burraton are the original settlements of this area. The Crooked Inn at Stoketon Cross is a pub with a difference, hosting an interesting collection of pets.
Union Inn - Saltash
The lord of Trematon founded the market town of Saltash in the 12th century, at a point where an ancient highway crossed the Tamar estuary by means of a ferry. Saltash achieved borough status around the end of that century. It was the first port to be established on the system of estuaries stretching from Plymouth Sound. Until 1901, Saltash had jurisdiction over all those waters. The town’s strategic position led to its involvement in many important events.
An early Norman church is St Nicholas and St Faith uphill from the ferry crossing. However the main parish church for Saltash is the 15th century St Stephens which is about a mile from the town centre. Sir Francis Drake married a Saltash girl, Mary Newman. Her cottage still exists and is open to visitors.
Saltash is an ideal location for visitors to the Tamar Valley and there are many beautiful views across the river. Canoeing trips on the Tamar are very popular. The town has a local Heritage Trail and also boasts a Leisure Centre. The town is within easy reach of many major attractions in both Cornwall and Devon and is on all the main transport routes by road and rail. Saltash Museum and Local History Centre opened in 2000 and contains a small permanent display about the history and well-known characters of Saltash. A temporary display is mounted during the summer.
River Tamar at Saltash
A new all-tides pontoon for short-stay moorings sailing and motor boats opened recently. The river is navigable beyond the Tamar bridges and, on some tides, it is possible to sail further up the beautiful river valley, as far as Cotehele and Calstock. Plymouth Sound is full of interest, as are such sites as Mount Edgecumbe , Drake’s Island, the historic Devonport Dockyard, and Torpoint . There is a passenger ferry at Cremyll and a chain car ferry at Torpoint . The historic Saltash Waterside offers a choice of entertainment, cafés, pubs and restaurants.
There is plenty of accommodation in the area, of every sort. In addition, the town has a collection of shops catering for every need. Not too far away are the attractive resorts of Looe and Polperro . And for anyone looking for a little more night life, the bright lights of Plymouth are just across the river.
| The Cornwall |
Which state of America is nicknamed 'The Beehive State'? | Counties of England
Counties in England
Exploring the counties of England with history and pictures.
The history of the counties of England dates back to early Anglo-Saxon times when âshiresâ were first formed as a way of raising taxes and when the nation of England was first created. These Anglo-Saxon shires usually had a fortified town at the centre, known back then as the âshire townâ. The word âCountyâ came later, being first introduced by the Normans when they conquered England back in 1066 and has its origins in French, simply meaning a jurisdiction under the sovereignty of a âCountâ.
The words âcountyâ and âcountiesâ therefore are derived from French (from the Normans) but most of the county names themselves still kept (and retain today) their original Anglo-Saxon names, such as âWorcestershireâ or âBedfordshireâ which is simply the name of the shire or county town, with the suffix of shire.
There are other counties however that got their name differently, such as Cornwall, and Devon, both of which take their names from the Celtic tribes that inhabited the regions, such as the âCornoviiâ in Cornwall . Other exceptions include todays Kent, which derives from the Kingdom of Kent, and Sussex (both East and West) and Essex. These names derive from the East Saxons (Essex) and the South Saxons (Sussex). The county names of Norfolk and Suffolk, derive from the âNorth Folkâ and âSouth Folkâ of the ancient Kingdom of East Anglia.
Each county link below will take you to the main county page where we list all the wonderful historic towns, villages and attractions that each county has to offer. You will also find a Picture Tour for each county, offering a diverse selection of the wonderful towns, attractions and varying landscapes. We hope you enjoy viewing the beautiful counties of England..
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In which English county is the town of St. Neots? | ST. NEOTS - St. Neots in Huntingdonshire and Cambridgeshire
Welcome to St. Neots
Including Eynesbury, Eaton Ford and Eaton Socon
St Neots is the largest town in Cambridgeshire, and since 1113 when the Priory of St Neots came into being has been an important bridge-head over the River Great Ouse . It is this bridge, and the convergence of the main roads from Huntingdon, Kimbolton and Bedford, around, which the prosperity of the town of St Neots has developed.
St Neot's Market Place
St Neots today has thrown off the dismal overcoat of the 20th Century and in recent years transformed itself into a "town in a garden" . St Neots is one of the five principal towns in the District of Huntingdonshire , the others being Huntingdon , St Ives and Ramsey site of the former Abbey and the Roman town of Godmanchester .
St Neot's High Street
Realising that it has some of the best assets any town could wish for; the huge Riverside Park with the River Great Ouse running through it, the old industrial and commercial buildings of the 19th Century most of which have now been tastefully transformed into vibrant modern shops, offices or apartments to die for, an enormous Market Place that provides not only parking in the middle of town - now there's a rare novelty - but also still fulfils its role as a proper market place but best of all on a couple of occasions each year it can all be cleared for a fun fair or other special public event.
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| Cambridgeshire |
In the Bible, what was the name of the son of Saul who became a great friend of David? | Cambridgeshire Constabulary - Police.uk
Police.uk
http://twitter.com/CambsCops
About the force
As the fastest growing county in England, Cambridgeshire is home to a rich diversity of history, culture and landscape. A predominantly rural county, Cambridgeshire includes the university city of Cambridge, the market towns of St Ives, Huntingdon and St Neots, the historic Fenland towns of Ramsey, Chatteris, Wisbech, Whittlesey, March, the historic cathedral city of Ely and the thriving city of Peterborough, a regional centre for commerce, industry, transport and leisure.
Cambridgeshire Constabulary is responsible for effective policing across the whole of Cambridgeshire, covering approximately 1,316 square miles of the East of England region. For policing purposes the county is divided into six districts, Peterborough, Huntingdonshire, Fenland, East Cambridgeshire, Cambridge City and South Cambridgeshire, each headed by a district commander with their own dedicated policing teams who know the local area inside out. Specialist officers and staff provide services such as major investigations, roads policing and public protection.
Cambridgeshire Constabulary is headed up by Chief Constable Simon Parr who joined Cambridgeshire in September 2010. He is responsible for all aspects of the constabulary's work. At a national level he sits on the Association of Chief Police Officers' council and is responsible for emergency procedures. This work involves working closely with the Home Office and Cabinet Office to develop national resilience plans in order to prepare the country for future major incidents and emergencies. Since he joined Cambridgeshire as Chief Constable he has been working to deliver a policing service that meets public need while working within the constraints of government budget cuts. He is involved in the development and use of ICT in policing to ensure more efficient working and preservation of the frontline. This has led to him becoming a director of the national Police ICT Company and Co-Chair of Microsoftâ??s Worldwide Public Safety and Justice Advisory Council.
He is very proud of the performance of the Constabulary and in particular the staff who, despite an enormous programme of change during which every role has come under scrutiny, and large amounts of money being taken from the budget, have ensured that performance continues to improve.
Simon is a Member of Windsor Leadership Trust, a charitable organisation designed to develop leaders across private and public sector in Britain.
Neighbourhoods in this force area
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Charles Buckinsky was the real name of which hard man film star? | Charles Bronson, 81, Dies; Muscular Movie Tough Guy - The New York Times
The New York Times
N.Y. / Region |Charles Bronson, 81, Dies; Muscular Movie Tough Guy
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Charles Bronson, 81, Dies; Muscular Movie Tough Guy
By RICHARD SEVERO
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Correction Appended
Charles Bronson, a muscular coal miner from Pennsylvania who became an international film star and archetypal American tough guy, died Saturday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. He was 81 and lived in Los Angeles.
The cause was pneumonia, said his publicist, Lori Jonas.
Mr. Bronson was acclaimed in Italy as Il Brutto (The Ugly One) and in France he was one of the monstres sacrés of the cinema. His acceptance in the United States was delayed and muted, with critics sour on the violence that stalked the scripts of his films and not so sure that someone so totally typecast could really act.
But the release of a French-made thriller called ''Rider on the Rain'' in 1969 convinced many naysayers that Mr. Bronson had a great deal of artistic skill that Hollywood's casting directors had squandered. Judith Crist, writing in New York magazine, said the movie convinced her that he was ''a forceful actor'' who was ''wonderfully menacing and tough.''
Six years later he impressed critics with his portrayal of an itinerant prizefighter in ''Hard Times,'' and he won praise again in 1976 as the lead in ''From Noon Till Three,'' a satirical western.
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Still, Mr. Bronson was best known for his roles in what were some of Hollywood's most violent films of the 1970's. None were more violent than the 1974 movie ''Death Wish,'' in which Mr. Bronson portrayed an architect turned vigilante who hunts muggers in New York after his wife is killed and his daughter raped by thugs. The critics denounced the film as a vehicle for legitimizing violent behavior. Vincent Canby, reviewing it for The New York Times, called it ''a despicable movie, one that raises complex questions in order to offer bigoted, frivolous, oversimplified answers.''
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The movie nevertheless became a hit and made Mr. Bronson, then in his early 50's and already a success in Europe, a star in America. Responding to critics' complaints, he said, ''We don't make movies for critics, since they don't pay to see them anyhow.''
But privately he was upset at his typecasting and longed for more challenging roles. He harbored those feelings even though in interviews he continued to work hard to create an image of toughness. He told interviewers that he had been in fistfights and had been arrested on charges of assault and battery, and he liked to suggest to journalists that his hobby was knife-throwing. But reporters who checked out his stories found no police record, no assault and battery, no predisposition toward violence. In fact, they learned that Mr. Bronson's hobby was painting and that he was a quiet, personable, gentle man.
There was no question, however, that Mr. Bronson had known hard times. He was born on Nov. 3, 1921, in the Scooptown section of Ehrenfeld, Pa., a coal-mining town. His real name was Charles Buchinsky, and he was the 11th of 15 children born to Lithuanian immigrants.
He knew little about his father, who died when Mr. Bronson was 10. He knew abject poverty throughout his early years: his family was so poor that when he was 6 he was sent to school in a dress, a hand-me-down from an older sister.
By the time he was 16 he was working in the coal mines, earning about $1 for each ton of coal he clawed out of the earth.
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In 1943, he was drafted into the Army. Years later, after he established himself as an actor, his press releases would say he had been a tail gunner during World War II. But one reporter found that Mr. Bronson was assigned to the 760th Mess Squadron in Kingman, Ariz., and that he drove a delivery truck during the war.
After the war, Mr. Bronson held various jobs, working as a bricklayer, short-order cook and an onion-picker in New York State. He then went to Atlantic City, where he rented beach chairs on the boardwalk. There he met some vacationing actors from a Philadelphia troupe and persuaded them to let him demonstrate his ability to paint scenery. They were impressed and hired him, then let him do a bit of acting.
Mr. Bronson found that he liked acting more than painting, and in 1949 he went to California and took lessons at the Pasadena Playhouse. In 1951 he had a minor role in ''You're in the Navy Now,'' which starred Gary Cooper. Mr. Bronson later explained that he got the part because he was the only one among the auditioning actors who could belch on cue.
He changed his name to Bronson in the 1950's because he thought that the anti-Communist crusade then being conducted by Senator Joseph R. McCarthy made it unwise for someone in the public eye to have a Russian-sounding name.
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He continued his work in low-budget movies, one of which was ''Machine-Gun Kelly,'' made in 1958 in only eight days. The French actor Alain Delon saw it, remembered it and, several years later, invited Mr. Bronson to France, where he made ''Adieu, l'Ami,'' which became an enormous success in Europe.
By the 1970's, Mr. Bronson had a loyal following, and even many critics agreed that although the scripts were usually bad, Mr. Bronson could be counted on to turn in a good performance. Among his credits by this time were ''The Magnificent Seven'' (1960), ''The Great Escape'' (1963) and ''Mr. Majestyk'' (1974). He also made four ''Death Wish'' sequels.
In 1969, after his divorce from his first wife, the former Harriet Tendler, he married Jill Ireland, a British actress who later appeared in some of his films, including ''The Valachi Papers'' and ''Love and Bullets.'' She died in 1990 after a long battle with cancer.
Mr. Bronson is survived by his wife, Kim; three daughters, Suzanne, Katrina Holden-Bronson and Zulieka, all of Los Angeles; a son, Tony of Los Angeles; two stepsons, Paul and Valentine McCallum, of Los Angeles; and two grandchildren.
Correction: September 18, 2003, Thursday An obituary of the movie actor Charles Bronson on Sept. 2 and in some late editions on Sept. 1 misstated his military record. Mr. Bronson had indeed been an aircraft gunner during World War II, as his publicity materials said. (His initial assignment, in Kingman, Ariz., involved maintenance and operations of the base messes.) He was a member of the 760th Flexible Gunnery Training Squadron, not the 760th Mess Squadron. In 1945 Mr. Bronson was attached to a B-29 squadron of the 39th Bombardment Group, based in Guam, which conducted combat missions against the Japanese home islands. Correction: October 6, 2003, Monday An article in The Times Magazine on Sept. 22, 1974, about the movie actor Charles Bronson, who died on Aug. 30 this year, misstated his military record. Publicity material asserting that Mr. Bronson had been a B-29 gunner in World War II, called into doubt by the article, was indeed correct. (The magazine error came to light after it was repeated in an obituary on Sept. 2 and in some late editions on Sept. 1. The more recent error was corrected in this space on Sept. 18.)
| Charles Bronson |
The 'Executive Crew' are/were a gang of football hooligans who supported which Midland club? | The Two Charles Bronsons | Transformetrics
The Two Charles Bronsons
The Two Charles Bronsons
Hey Friends,
I thought you might like to read a small biography section from my upcoming book, Power Sculpt—A Man’s Guide to Ultimate Push-Ups for the Awesome Physique. I hope you enjoy it.
I have been a big fan of the late action movie star Charles Bronson ever since I was eight years old and saw him in the classic western The Magnificent Seven (he played the muscular one whom all the kids liked). All you had to do was to watch any of his many movies to realize what a superbly conditioned and perfectly built actor/athlete he truly was.
Bronson’s movie list includes The Great Escape, The Dirty Dozen, Red Sun, Rider on the Rain, Once Upon a Time in the West, Chato’s Land, Death Wish, The Mechanic, From Noon to Three, and many, many more. In my all-time favorite Bronson movie, Hard Times, Charlie played a bare-knuckle street fighter in 1930s Depression-era New Orleans. There are numerous scenes in Hard Times where Bronson’s physique and fitness are clearly displayed to the best possible advantage. Remarkably, Bronson was 56 years old when he made that film, and he was in far better shape than anyone else in that entire film. In fact, one character whom he fought was Robert Tessier, a beefy weight lifter/bodybuilder; even though Bronson was much smaller, it was totally believable when Bronson kicked his . . . well, you know.
So how was it that Charles Bronson developed and maintained such a superb musculature throughout his life until his death in 2003 at the age of 83? Tony Curtis, a close friend of Bronson, wrote in his autobiography that Bronson never lifted weights but was constantly doing Isometrics and, you guessed it, training Woody Strode style, with hundreds of push-ups each day. Which, by the way, Mr. Curtis practiced daily as well. In his autobiography, Curtis also tells a story of being on the set of Spartacus and having this conversation with Laurence Olivier: “‘Tony, where do you get arms like that?’ I said, ‘Come with me.’ We went behind the dressing rooms, and I said, ‘Let’s do push-ups.’ So we did push-ups, and from then on we did them every day before we went to work. I’d say, ‘Come on, Larry,’ and we would do our push-ups. He got into it, and one day he said, ‘I owe you one.’”
And that brings me to the other Charles Bronson, the Prisoner.
In 2005, a friend who had purchased my first book, Pushing Yourself to Power, sent me a copy of a book titled Solitary Fitness, which he thought I would find interesting because the methods outlined in Solitary Fitness and Pushing Yourself to Power were similar in many respects, though not identical by any stretch.
The first thing I noticed that set Solitary Fitness apart from every other strength and fitness book I’d ever read was that it was written by a man who had served more than 28 years of his life behind bars in more than 100 different penal institutions throughout Great Britain. Add to that the fact that more than 24 of those years were served in solitary confinement due to his erratic and often violent behavior toward other inmates, prison personnel, and prison officials, and you have a rather unique viewpoint of the world that is being openly and honestly expressed in the pages of his book. Hence the book’s more than appropriate title, Solitary Fitness.
The other distinction was the man’s name. Though his birth name was Michael Gordon Peterson (no relation to me), he wrote Solitary Fitness under what I initially thought was the pseudonym of “Charles Bronson”—supposedly because that was the name his manager came up with during his short-lived career as a professional bare-knuckle boxer while briefly on the outside of prison walls in the 1980s. Whatever the reason, Michael Peterson’s real name is now “officially” Charles Bronson, and in many ways he does the actor proud.
How so? First off, the man is in awesome shape and is the living proof of what he teaches. Let me also say that there is not a person alive who could possibly follow the information outlined in Solitary Fitness to the letter and not be in awesome and fantastic shape for life as a direct result. Everything it contains is accurate, reliable, and right on the money. (Okay, I admit that the special exercises for enlarging the male “solitary organ” are a little off the beaten path along with the photo of a Hindu sadhu lifting a boulder with his private appendage. But other than that, everything really is accurate and reliable.)
Not only that, but you may find yourself getting a big kick out of Bronson’s humor and writing style. (Bronson has won many prestigious awards for his art and poetry.) The man has a wicked sense of humor, but it’s obvious he knows what he is talking about. For instance, right out of the chute on page one he states, “I pick up a muscle mag, I start to laugh and I wipe my . . . with it, it’s a joke and a big con, and they call me a CRIMINAL! All this crap about high protein drinks, pills, diets. It’s just a load of bollocks and a multi-million pound racket. Steroids, who needs them, why, what purpose?”
Bronson then goes on to make it clear that he and his Solitary Fitness methods are legendary throughout the entire British penal system, which I’m certain is absolutely true and that he can more than back up. He also makes it clear that he has no respect for phonies and regards professional bodybuilders as all show, no go freaks and pansies. As he states, “I’ll tell you now, the Arnies of the world are really pumped up freaks! Sorry, Arnie, but basically that’s all you are, it’s not only unnatural, it’s bloody ridiculous.”
On page 2, Bronson asks three simple questions. “Did cavemen use weights? Did Hercules or Samson use a gym? Did they take steroids or swallow pills? Did they bollocks!” Obviously, Bronson is right on target.
So what exactly is the Solitary Fitness Method, and what kind of results does it produce? Bronson answers that question this way: “Some days I will push 3,000 to 6,000 press-ups [push-ups]. It sounds inhuman, amazing! Remember, I am 50 years of age (in 2003), and I am as fast now as I was at 30 years of age! I’m 5'10-1/2" tall and weigh 230 pounds of solid muscle; if I hit you, I’ll deform your looks. I can hit a man 20 times in four seconds! I can push 132 press-ups in 60 seconds. Can Arnie?” Obviously, Bronson’s strength and fitness is so far above and beyond any bodybuilder that there isn’t even a comparison to be made. Simply put, we’ve all heard about the proverbial character whom you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, and it’s him!
So what’s the bottom line: It’s that Solitary Fitness offers no shortcuts to super strength and fitness. It’s comprised of many of the same basic power calisthenics found in every other super effective exercise program with top priority placed on the push-up as the foundation of all strength and fitness just as you find here. It also features a wide assortment of what appear to be Charles Atlas style self-resistance exercises that Bronson has his students perform Isometrically in fixed positions rather than dynamically as Charles Atlas taught and as I teach. As such, he has each repetition held for 10 seconds and performed 10 times in succession. All in all, it is one incredible, very time-consuming, and well balanced program. In fact, every attribute of true lifelong strength and fitness is maximized, including strength, flexibility, endurance, balance, coordination, speed, and aesthetics. And to top it off he also features special exercises for enhancing one’s “solitary organ.” (Something that I have never covered in any of my books.) Any drawbacks? The only one that I can think of is the amount of actual time that it requires. But, if you have all day to do the program (as he does), you will definitely be among the fittest and strongest of people walking the planet.
Do you know someone who would benefit from the challenge and inspiration of these Daily Transformations e-mails? Please forward them this link to www.Transformetrics.com , and encourage them to sign up in the drop-down box.
Copyright 2009, John E. Peterson
The information and advice included in this and all messages are not to be considered medical advice. Always consult with a physician or health professional before engaging in any of the physical exercises suggested in these messages.
Bronze Bow Publishing
2600 E. 26th St., Minneapolis, MN 55406
866.724.8200 fax 612.724.8995
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"""Give me a robe, put on my crown, I have immortal longing in me"", is a quote from which Shakespeare play?" | Give me my robe, put on my crown - eNotes Shakespeare Quotes
Give me my robe, put on my crown
Cleopatra:
"Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me."
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With these words, Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, joins her Roman lover, Mark Antony, in death. Mark Antony and Octavius Caesar oppose each other in this historical tragedy, Antony on the side of Egypt alongside its queen, Cleopatra, and Caesar as ruler of Rome. Antony struggles between his loyalty to Rome, strengthened by his marriage to Octavia, sister of Caesar, and his love for Cleopatra. He eventually succumbs to the "temptation of Egypt" and a great sea-war ensues in which Antony is defeated and follows Cleopatra into retreat.
When Cleopatra learns that Antony believes she has betrayed him and plans to kill her, she sends word to Antony that she has killed herself. Overcome with grief, Antony falls upon his sword and is taken, still alive, to Cleopatra's monument, where she has been hiding. He dies in her arms. When Caesar hears that Mark Antony is dead, he arranges for Cleopatra's surrender, assuring her that she will be treated with respect. Cleopatra learns, however, that she is to be paraded by Caesar through the streets of Rome as a war trophy, ridiculed and degraded. She chooses, instead, to die with dignity, wearing her robe and crown, rather than suffer this humiliation. She puts an asp to her breast and is poisoned by the bite. Caesar provides a dignified burial for both Antony and Cleopatra, side by side.
| Antony and Cleopatra |
At which inn did Chaucer's pilgrims meet to begin their journey? | Bible or Shakespeare? Quiz
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me
Antony and Cleopatra (V, ii, 282-283)
What a piece of work is a man
Hamlet Act 2, scene 2, 303–312
For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.
James 4:14
Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears
Jeremiah 9:1
Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.
Job 5:7
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
A Midsummer Nights Dream Act 3, scene 2, 110–115
All that glisters is not gold
The Merchant of Venice (II, vii)
For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
Hamlet Act 2, scene 2, 239–251
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning
Psalms 30:5
Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing
Proverbs 18:22
Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
Song of Solomon 2:5
Vanity of vanities; all is vanity
Ecclesiastes 1:2
Neither a borrower nor a lender be
Hamlet Act 1, scene 3, 75–77
The better part of valor is discretion
Henry The Fourth, Part 1 Act 5, scene 4, 115–121
For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out
1 Timothy 6:7
This above all: to thine own self be true
Hamlet Act 1, scene 3, 78–82
Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth
Matthew 6:3
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
Henry The Fourth, Part 2 Act 3, scene 1, 26–31
How poor are they that have not patience!
Othello (II, iii, 376-379)
A merry heart doeth good like a medicine
Proverbs 17:22
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
Proverbs 17:22
Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth
Proverbs 17:22
Vanity of vanities; all is vanity
Proverbs 17:22
Neither a borrower nor a lender be
Proverbs 17:22
This above all: to thine own self be true
Proverbs 17:22
For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
Proverbs 17:22
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me
Proverbs 17:22
For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out
Proverbs 17:22
Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears
Proverbs 17:22
Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing
Proverbs 17:22
The better part of valor is discretion
Proverbs 17:22
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown
Proverbs 17:22
A merry heart doeth good like a medicine
Proverbs 17:22
How poor are they that have not patience!
Proverbs 17:22
Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning
Proverbs 17:22
Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
Proverbs 17:22
All that glisters is not gold
Proverbs 17:22
What a piece of work is a man
Proverbs 17:22
For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.
Proverbs 17:22
Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.
Proverbs 17:22
| i don't know |
Jason Bradbury and Polanna Woodward are co- presenters of which t.v. series shown on Channel Five? | Suzi, Jon and Ortis to leave Channel 5 Gadget Show | FrequencyCast
Suzi, Jon and Ortis to leave Channel 5 Gadget Show
FrequencyCast 15 comments
We’re just getting reports that there are some big changes in store for Channel 5’s Gadget Show.
The headline news is that Suzi Perry, Jon Bentley and Ortis Deley will be leaving the show, and won’t be appearing in the new series that starts in the spring.
Jason Bradbury and Pollyanna Woodward will be the only two to remain, and apparently the show will switch from the current studio-based format to a duet with Jason and Polly touring the world on the search for gadgets.
The show has been running for 16 series and has built up quite a following within the tech and gadget community. The show has also spawned Gadget Show Live , which we attended last year, and will be reporting from this year.
Looking at tweets from the outgoing presenters:
@suziperry confirms that “the decision wasn’t mine”,
@jonbentley90 says “Thank you for your kind messages of support. It’s been a very enjoyable seven years”
Nothing as yet from @ortisdeley
It will be interesting to see what the new-look Gadget Show: World Tour will look like. Channel 5’s Factual Entertainment Commissioner Ian Dunkley says: “After 16 successful series it felt time for the show to go global and have some more fun. Our love of gadgets remains undimmed, and now the testing will be bigger, better, and in more exotic locations.”
Update: Why did Suzi Perry leave the Gadget Show? We caught up with Suzi Perry in March 2012 to discuss life after The Gadget Show. Listen to our Suzi Perry Interview
FrequencyCast interviews Suzi Perry – March 2012 (7 minutes)
As an aside, in case you hadn’t noticed, Sky recently launched its own gadget show – Gadget Geeks airs on Sky 1 at 8pm on a Monday night. The show borrows heavily from the Gadget Show, but splits the show into two teams, a room of geeks that build gadgets to order, with the other team getting hands-on with tech. If you’ve tried Gadget Geeks on Sky, we’d love to know what you think.
Any thoughts on the demise of the Gadget Show team? Let us know and we may read some out in our next tech podcast, FrequencyCast Show 73…
| The Gadget Show |
In mythology, who or what was 'Mjolnir'? | From the North...: You Must Explain How This Must Be
You Must Explain How This Must Be
It was playing deep-thinking higher-functioning sociopath Sherlock Holmes that made Benedict Cumberbatch a sex symbol, according to the co-creator of BBC1's Sherlock, The Lord Thy God Steven Moffat (Thou Shalt Worship No Other Gods Before He). 'It wasn't like, in all fairness, anyone was salivating over Benedict before he was Sherlock Holmes,' The Moffster told the University Observer when asked about the new found popularity of the show among women. 'It's a meeting of part and actor I think that makes geeky sexy.' Moffat - taking a few minutes off from showrunning the new series of Doctor Who which began production with week - admitted 'Sherlock is probably the first time that the Sherlock Holmes demographic has been female skewed' but he also noted that '[Cumberbatch] is not the first handsome man to play Sherlock Holmes, oddly enough.'
Benny recently topped a poll of over twenty seven thousand Radio Times readers who didn't have anything better to do with their time than to nominate 'the most desirable television star to take on a Valentine's Day date,' receiving more than twelve thousand votes to beat former Doctor Who star David Tennant into second place. Ah, David. The fickle finger of a affection. Two years ago, every fan girl in the land wanted you. Now, you've been replaced in their affections by a posh bloke. It's a dirty rotten shame, innit? Fellow Sherlock star Louise Brealey - who plays lab technician Molly Hooper - came top of the female poll with one thousand six hundred and twenty five votes. And every national newspaper immediately reported this pointless and ladgeful load of old stupid toot as 'news.' Perhaps the words of Sherlock's own Irene Adler are true: 'Brainy is the new sexy.'
Motor manufacturer Tesla has failed in its latest - pointless and increasingly desperate - attempt to pursue a legal action against BBC2's Top Gear over a review of one of its electric sports cars, the Gruniad reports. Sounding rather disappointed, as you can well imagine since, for the Gruniad, what's bad for Top Gear is good for them and visa versa. The California-based company has been attempting to bring libel and malicious falsehood actions against the programme after getting a right lip on when one of their cars got a bad review. The piece, concerning the massively over-priced ninety two thousand quid Tesla Roadster, which first aired in December 2008, showed the car apparently running out of electricity on the Top Gear track and being pushed into a garage to await recharging. 'Although Tesla say it will do two hundred miles we have worked out that on our track it will run out after just fifty five miles. And if it does run out, it is not a quick job to charge it up again,' said Jeremy Clarkson's commentary. Tesla said that the Roadster shown had not run out of charge - although at no stage did the programme state that it had, merely that they had worked out how soon it would - and did not have to be pushed back into the hangar. Which is probably true but it did make for a very funny shot. The car firm claimed that the programme had 'suggested' that Tesla had 'intentionally and significantly misrepresented the range of the Roadster by claiming that it had a range of about two hundred miles in that its true range on the Top Gear track was only fifty five miles.' But Mr Justice Tugendhat, in a ruling handed down at the high court on Thursday, dismissed Tesla's hopeless attempt to amend a previous libel claim which had been struck out last October. Tugendhat said that Tesla's amendment was 'not capable of being defamatory at all. Or, if it is, it is not capable of being a sufficiently serious defamatory meaning to constitute a real and substantial tort.' Ouch. That's the legal equivalent of 'oh, go away and grow up!'
He added that 'as any reasonable motorist knows, a manufacturer's statement about the range of a motor vehicle is always qualified by a statement as to the driving conditions under which that range may be expected. For example, one range may be given for urban driving, and another for other conditions. But such statements are rarely, if ever, given to the public by reference to racing on a test track.' In a statement following the ruling, the BBC said: 'We are pleased Mr Justice Tugendhat has ruled in favour of the BBC on both the issues before the court, first in striking out Tesla's libel claim against the BBC and secondly in describing Tesla's malicious falsehood claim as so "gravely deficient" it too could not be allowed to proceed.' They did not add, although they should have, 'hopefully now these ridiculous American tossers will stop wasting everyone's time and money trying to prove their car isn't useless when it, clearly, is by waving their dicks in the air and saying "look at us, we've got big lawyers."' The BBC didn't say that, because they're far too polite. But, I'm not. And, whilst we're about it, as a licence fee payer, can I be assured that the costs in this case have also been awarded to the BBC since I fail to see why a single penny of my hard-earned licence fee should be spent of the BBC having to defend themselves against such groundless crap? Over to you, Tesla.
Princess Anne has officially opened the new Blue Peter garden this week at the BBC's Northern headquarters at Media City in Salford. The Princess Royal planted a tree and also unveiled a plaque at the new location following the programme's move from London last September. Blue Peter presenters Helen Skelton and Barney Harwood were also at the unveiling, along with gardener Chris Collins, the show's pet dog Barney and some local school children. The garden, which is next to the Media City tram stop, features a bust of Petra, Blue Peter's first pet dog and an ornamental fishpond. The statue of Mabel, another of the show's most famous pets, has been moved to the reception area, along with a sculpture of the famous Blue Peter ship logo.
It had previously been reported that the garden would be off-limits to the public, but the BBC last week confirmed that it will be open for the first time in the show's history. At the time, Blue Peter editor Tim Levell said: 'We're really excited about being able to open up the garden so Blue Peter viewers can come along and visit it - we wanted to make it as accessible to the public as possible.' Of course, it has been accessible to the public before. Only, last time, they had to climb over the wall to get in.
Coronation Street's product placement contract with Nationwide has been renewed for another year, it has been announced. A Nationwide cashpoint has been present at Dev Alahan's corner shop since November in a deal between the building society and ITV. The arrangement will now continue for at least another twelve months.
The initial deal has been hailed as a success as research showed that seven out of ten viewers were able to correctly recall the Nationwide brand the day after watching Coronation Street. Nationwide's marketing director Andy McQueen told Campaign Live: 'Nationwide Building Society is pleased about the initial results of this product placement, and is happy to extend the relationship. It is really exciting to be in the vanguard of the product placement industry in the UK.' Coronation Street became the UK's first primetime show to include product placement when the Nationwide machine appeared last year. Media regulator Ofcom gave the green light for product placement in December 2010.
On a similar note, Emmerdale will be sponsored by bet365bingo from next month, ITV has announced. A new deal negotiated by ITV Commercial will kick off from Monday 12 March and see the online bingo site's branding accompany Emmerdale's broadcasts on all ITV channels and ITV Player. The agreement is bet365bingo's first broadcast sponsorship and will run for two years. ITV's business development director Jason Spencer commented:
'Emmerdale is one of the most iconic ITV programmes and a highly sought-after sponsorship property. It is with great pleasure that we are able to announce that bet365bingo will be the new partner of the show for the next twenty four months. As their first foray into TV sponsorship, this is a huge broadcast opportunity that can be exploited across ITV's various platforms, in this momentous year of the soap's fortieth anniversary. The audience and the values of the show very much embody the target market and brand values of bet365bingo and we look forward to an enduring and successful partnership.'
Coronation Street's producer says he 'stands by' a recent rape storyline but accepts that some mistakes were made during production. Phil Collinson was speaking at the annual conference of St Mary's Sexual Assault Referral Centre in Manchester. He was criticised for portraying rape victim Carla Connor being confronted by her attacker outside the court. 'I do agree that there were some procedural things in the court that we did get wrong,' he said. 'In a show like ours, we are constantly balancing the needs of the drama against the needs of accuracy, and I suppose I would have to agree that there were some procedural things in the court that our attention has been drawn to subsequently and I can only apologise for that. I have to stand by the story that we told and I think we did a good thing in the main.' The Rape Crisis helpline said it saw an eight hundred per cent increase in calls after the attack - by Frank Foster on his girlfriend and business partner Carla, was broadcast last September. But scenes showing Frank confronting Carla, played by Alison King, outside court had deterred some real victims from going to court, St Mary's said. The Centre's Bernie Ryan said: 'We have to put a lot of reassurance into the fact that it was a dramatisation of a courtroom event and that there are support services to make sure they don't come across the perpetrator and are supported throughout the court process.' St Mary's, which provides support and counselling to more than one thousand people a year in Greater Manchester and Cheshire, advised both Coronation Street and Hollyoaks on elements of their recent rape storylines. Collinson said the ITV show also 'sent out a very clear message' by unambiguously portraying Frank, played by Andrew Lancel, as a rapist. But, he admitted that an earlier assault on Maria Connor, played by Samia Smith, had divided the show's writing team. 'She dressed herself up, she absolutely went there to encourage this man to sign a contract and go into business with him. She did not go there to be sexually attacked though. I was astonished. Even around our conference table, a very fiery debate happened about that night - literally, some of the writers saying that it wasn't an attempted rape. I really believe that we said right from the beginning that it was.' Hollyoaks writer Sushayla Bushra also took part in the debate following the Channel Four soap's rape storyline between Jacqui McQueen, played by Claire Cooper, and Gilly Roach, played by Anthony Quinlan, which began in February 2011. Viewers did not see the incident and a 'jury' of viewers was selected to decide the outcome of the trial. They found Gilly not guilty but he later confessed. The treatment was criticised by Rape Crisis, who said the ambiguous nature of the plot 'may have led a lot of women to question their own experiences.' The writers wanted to address a 'grey area' in some viewers' minds over what constitutes rape, Bushra said. 'In this particular story, Jacqui was getting drunk with a boy who she knew, she went into the bedroom with him, she got undressed, and then she decided that she didn't want to go through with it,' she said. 'And then he raped her. We all agreed that this was rape, but it was quite shocking how many people on forums - not just the male viewers but the female viewers - were incredibly damning of Jacqui. It was very important that she did have vindication and that Gilly admitted that he did it. We are not broadcasting to people who are very educated and knowledgeable about this subject. We are broadcasting to young people, and it's very important that we draw attention to these things.'
Oscar-winning actress Emma Thompson is to portray the Queen in a TV drama based on Michael Fagan's Buckingham Palace intrusion thirty years ago. Entitled Walking The Dogs, the film will tell the tale of how Fagan gained entry to the palace and entered the Queen's bedroom in 1982. Eddie Marsan and Russell Tovey will also star in the dramatisation. The film, to be screened later this year, is part of a new drama series for Sky Arts called Playhouse Presents. Trevor Eve, Gina McKee, Stephen Fry, Richard E Grant and Sheila Hancock have also been lined-up to star in new dramas that have been commissioned for the channel. David Tennant and Martin Shaw will also appear in the new collection of drama. As previously announced a couple of months ago, Sir Tom Jones will make his acting debut in Jim Cartwright drama King of the Teds as Ron, who is made redundant from working at a bottle factory, with Alison Steadman and Brenda Blethyn also starring.
The Simpsons and This is Spinal Tap actor Harry Shearer will play Richard Nixon in Nixon's The One, which is based on almost two hundred White House recordings made between 1971 and 1973. Paul O'Grady and Sandi Toksvig will also star in new comedy drama series Nellie and Melba. It has also been announced that veteran chat show host Sir Michael Parkinson is to return to TV, four years after he retired and got a job giving away pens. Parky, who bowed out from his ITV series in 2007, is to front a six-part series called Masterclass with Michael Parkinson. The show will focus on a different star each week and Sir Michael will uncover how they perfected their art. And talk lots and lots and lots about the time he met 'the late ... great ... Gene ... Kelly.' The seventy six-year-old said that he was 'delighted' to have landed the new role. The series will be filmed in front of a studio audience, who will also be able to ask questions. Channel director James Hunt described Sir Michael as 'one of our country's finest broadcasters.' He added: 'This new interview series will allow Sir Michael to get closer than ever before to his subject, extracting the essence of their character in a way that only he can.'
The Heaton Horror Cheryl Cole has confirmed that she will not be returning as an X Factor judge. As if anybody with two braincells to rub-together actually cares a frigging stuff about such utter puff-pastry nonsense as this.
The Girls Aloud singer, who departed the ITV show in 2010 to work on the US series, from which she was acrimoniously dumped soon afterwards, had 'been tipped' (or, rather a few tabloids started a rumour, unsubstantiated, it would seem) as a possible replacement for Kelly Rowland, who is not expected to return for a second year on the judging panel. Cole tweeted this week: 'X Factor was a great experience and time in my life and career but is now part of my past. Please lets move on now.' Her comments come after veteran X Factor judge Louis Walsh suggested that the singer 'could be in line' for a return to the talent show. Which would seem to prove that Walsh knows as much about what's going on with the programme as he does about tipping winnings. Cole departed the UK series to help Simon Cowell launch the programme on FOX in the US, but she was - very amusingly - dropped from the judging panel only twenty days after signing up for the show.
The BBC's Formula 1 frontman Jake Humphrey is to present a twelve-part current affairs debate show aimed at younger voters. Free Speech will run as monthly hour-long shows on BBC3 starting on Wednesday 7 March. The show will use social networking sites throughout its broadcast. Humphrey, who has also presented Match of the Day and Football Focus, said the show would 'bring viewers closer to the decision makers than ever before. This show isn't afraid to ask the big questions and tackle the vital issues that are directly affecting your lives now, and just as importantly, your future,' he said. Steve Anderson, of producers Mentorn Media, said the show would capitalise on 'changing patterns of viewing. All of the reliable research shows that most of the people classed as the target group for BBC3 watch TV while using a second screen, and most comment on a show they are viewing.' The first show in the series, which follows in the footsteps of BBC3's Young Voters' Question Time, will be broadcast from east London.
Jamie Theakston and Jeff Brazier, the former husband of Jade Goody, are among the latest public figures to sue News International's ass over alleged phone-hacking by the Scum of the World. Theakston, Brazier, the journalist Ted Hynds and Colin Stagg, the man who was wrongly accused of the 1992 murder of Rachel Nickell, have a;; started legal action against Rupert Murdoch's UK newspaper group. Each of their claims against News Group Newspapers, the News International subsidiary which published the now defunct, disgraced and disgraceful Scum of the World, relate to allegations of voicemail interception. The new civil actions were revealed on Thursday as it emerged that News International has settled a claim for phone-hacking damages by Charlotte Church. The Welsh singer's case was due to go to trial in the high court on Monday. Theakston and Brazier have been the subject of intense media interest in the past decade. Both men have presented reality TV shows and Brazier fathered two children in a well-publicised relationship with the Big Brother contestant Jade Goody, who died aged twenty seven after a battle with cervical cancer in 2009. The lawyer for Stagg and Hynds confirmed to the Gruniad Morning Star that he was 'actively pursuing' legal action against News International. Stagg was wrongly suspected of the murder of Rachel Nickell on Wimbledon Common in 1992. He said in July last year that he 'felt sick and angry' after he was was told by the Metropolitan police that he was targeted by the Scum of the World. Hynds, an investigative journalist, wrote a book about Stagg's struggle for justice, called Pariah: Colin Stagg, published in 2007. He has also been told by the Met that he was a phone-hacking target. It emerged on Wednesday that Cherie Blair, the wife of the former prime minister, is also suing Murdoch's UK newspaper group over alleged phone-hacking.
Each of the fresh claims – except that of Mrs Blair – name News Group Newspapers as the sole defendant. Cherie is also suing the private investigator Glenn Mulcaire who, allegedly, did the alleged hacking. News International settled thirty seven civil actions in January – including high-profile actions brought by the likes of the actor Jude Law and the son of serial killer Harold Shipman – in a bid to prevent them from going to trial, and has paid out to another twenty one victims of phone-hacking earlier this month. However, News International faces at least fifty fresh civil actions. Others who have already filed claims include the footballer Peter Crouch, the (alleged) singer James Blunt and the Ukip leader Nigel Farage. Michael Silverleaf QC, counsel for News Group Newspapers, told the high court on Thursday that the publisher was attempting to settle 'quite a few more' cases against it over alleged voicemail interception. I'll bet it is.
Homer Simpson's favourite beer, Duff, is to be made available to buy in the UK. The famous fictional drink from The Simpsons - complete with its slogan, 'Can't get enough of that wonderful Duff' - has been developed in real life by The Legendary Duff Beer company.
It has already proved very successful across Europe after being made by German-based company Brewmasters Gebeauts. Duff beer will be available in bottles or cans, and can be purchased and shipped to various delivery locations in England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. The Legendary Duff Beer company describes the beverage as: 'A premium German pilsner that poses a crisp, light refreshing taste along with iconic packaging. The product has certainly fulfilled its namesake in becoming a modern day legend, developing a cult following across the world.' The move coincides with the long-running FOX cartoon series' five hundredth episode, which will be broadcast in the UK on Sky1 later this year. When asked for a comment, the company's other spokesperson, Duff Man, simply said: 'Owwwwww, yeah!'
Channel Five has announced that The Gadget Show will return to our screens this Spring in 'a new, revamped format.' That doesn't sound good. The new series will 'take the show on the road', as presenters Jason Bradbury and Pollyanna Woodward travel the globe to test the latest in consumer gadgetry. Each week The Gadget Show:
World Tour will see Jason and Pollyanna undertake an international gadget road trip. From Abu Dhabi to Silicon Valley, from New York to Monaco, our pair of gadget experts will give their verdict on the very latest high-street tech, as well as stopping off to showcase more cutting-edge technology. Well, let's face it, after Don't Scare The Hare, it was probably a very good idea to sneak Jason Bradbury out of the country for a while to allow tempers to cool, somewhat. A few years ought to do it. Maybe a decade. Ian Dunkley, Factual Entertainment Commissioner said: 'After sixteen successful series it felt time for the show to go global and have some more fun. Our love of gadgets remains undimmed, and now the testing will be bigger, better, and in more exotic locations.' On its travels, the show will be visiting Japan, the USA, the Mediterranean, and the UAE to test the best smartphones, laptops, TV's, gaming consoles and cameras on the market. In the first episode, the show lands in Tokyo in search of parts to build a winning robot for a robot fighting tournament. All of which is well and good but this blogger has just one observation to make. Wot, no Suzi Perry? I hope it fails miserably. Just like the last thing Jason Bradbury was involved in did.
The great Bradley Whitford has signed up to appear in a FOX drama pilot The Asset. Heroes actress Ali Larter has already been announced as having landed the role of Anna King, a famous photojournalist who has a secret life as a CIA agent. Whitford has now joined the cast, Deadline reports. He will play Leo, the station chief of the New York City CIA.
The character is also said to be 'a big fan' of Anna. Brad, one of yer actual Keith Telly Topping's favourite actors, is probably best known for his role as Deputy White House Chief of Staff Josh Lyman in the greatest TV show in the history of the medium (that doesn't have the words 'Doctor' and 'Who' in the title, anyway) The West Wing. Prior to that he'd been a memorable guest villain in an episode of The X Files. Since The West Wing ended in 2006 Brad has appeared in shows such as Aaron Sorkin's hugely under-rated Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip, The Good Guys and as the serial killer Red John in The Mentalist. The Asset is being developed by Josh Friedman, whose previous credits include Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles and The Finder. Hopefully, this one will be a bit better than those two.
The BBC is this week piloting a new improvised comedy show, based around Twitter. The excellent Jarred Christmas, Tom Rosenthal, Humphrey Ker, Cariad Lloyd and Michael Legge are taking part in the trial episode of @cuff. The audience at the gig in The Tabernacle, in West London, will – unusually – be asked to keep their phones on during the show.
They will then be encouraged to tweet ideas, which appear in real time on a massive 'Twitter wall' next to the stage, with the best suggestions controlling the direction of the live comedy. If the show is picked up for broadcast, viewers at home could add suggestions live. Social media company Smesh is behind the technological side. Founder Tom Quick said: 'The marriage of comedy with this new technology is an amazing idea. It goes to show how social media can be used in so many interesting ways.' This is not the only TV show in development to revolve around Twitter. Jonathan Ross is also due to be hosting a pilot of a show called Trending Topics next month.
It is often said that truth is stranger than fiction, dear blog reader, and in a case of life imitating art (in more ways than one), two iconic paintings with very close connections to Doctor Who have been hitting the headlines recently. Firstly, one of Edvard Munch's four versions of The Scream - which was a major influence on the design of the series six monsters The Silence - is to be exhibited in the UK before being auctioned in the USA by Sotheby's. It will be on display in London from 13 April and in New York from 27 April, with the auction taking place on 2 May, when it is estimated it could fetch more than fifty million smackers. This version - dated from 1895 and the only one to still be in private hands - is a pastel and is in the original frame which was hand-painted by the Norwegian artist himself. It also includes a poem by Munch explaining what inspired his sinister dystopian masterpiece.
The Scream is believed to be the second-most recognisable image in art and popular culture after the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci. And by one of those strange coincidences that would be dismissed as 'too far fetched' if included in a work of fiction, another version of that particular masterpiece has also been causing a huge stir in the art world. The globally famous portrait - also titled La Gioconda - was a major plot point of the Tom Baker story City of Death (co-written by the show's then script editor, the late Douglas Adams). Now a copy of the picture - believed to have been painted by one of Leonardo's apprentices at the same time as the original - has been restored and displayed at the Prado Museum in Madrid, where it will be on display to the public until 13 March, after which it will be moved and hung next to Leonardo's original at the Louvre in Paris for an exhibition. The art, of course, lies in the fact that it is there.
After the success of fly-on-the-wall documentary Educating Essex, Channel Four is looking for another school where it can film a follow-up series. The seven-part show capturing the daily lives of staff and pupils at Passmores Academy in Harlow, Essex, was filmed on sixty five cameras placed in fixed positions around the secondary school.
It drew a strong average audience of 2.4 million viewers per episode and was also something of a critical success. Praised for highlighting the challenges faced by the teaching profession, as well as for its even-handed portrayal of young people, Educating Essex was named in Radio Times top ten shows of 2011. David Clews, executive producer at Twofour Broadcast, who made the show for Channel Four, said: 'We're very excited about the prospect of building on the success of Educating Essex and would like to find a school to work in partnership with us to produce a new collection of warm, honest and important documentary programmes. In the same way as the first series, we don't want to shy away from the challenges that today's teachers face, nor avoid the awkward parts of growing up, but ultimately our aim is that these will be optimistic and celebratory films which sensitively explore the human relationships that lie at the heart of school life.'
Actor Zach Braff learned about how famous his All New People co-star Eve Myles was by meeting her fans at the stage door: 'I didn't [know] until I got here,' he told STV. 'Eve does not play a very - how do I put this? - her character is not like a sex pot, hottie, and I'm seeing these pictures from Torchwood of her firing guns and these tight outfits, and I'm like "Eve?!"'
Is that what you're 'like' is it, Brad? Don't you mean 'I said' rather than 'I was like'? Anyway, crass Americanisms aside ... '[Torchwood has] become quite popular in the States, too, I have a friend who I didn't know even watched it, he was like "you're acting with Eve Myles!" He was freaking out. She's a wonderful, wonderful actress, and doing comedy for the first time, which people haven't seen - wait until they see how good she is at comedy.'
Tribute has been paid to the comedian Ken Goodwin, who has died at the age of seventy eight. One of many personalities who rose to fame in the 1970s TV show The Comedians, Manchester-born Goodwin spent his retirement in Llandudno. He died on Saturday at a nursing home at Rhos-on-Sea, Conwy, after suffering from Alzheimer's for several years.
Among those who had worked with him was fellow comedian Frank Carson, eighty five, who also died this week . Goodwin's former manager and friend Clive Stock described him as 'a gentle man and a gentle comedian.' Stock said that his friend topped the bill at the London Palladium in the seventies after being discovered on the TV show, known for his catchphrase 'settle down, now.' Born in Manchester, Goodwin eventually moved to Llandudno with his wife, Vicki, near to Stock who also worked as a performer, before they retired. Stock said that Goodwin was a quiet man off-stage who saved his gags for the audience, preferring to perform to a live crowd on stage rather than before the TV cameras. His funeral is to be held at St Hilary's, Llanrhos, Llandudno, on Friday 2 March.
Twenty-five thousand LPs, forty thousand singles and several thousand CDs from the collection of the late broadcaster and British icon John Peel are to become the musical exhibits of an interactive online museum. Peel was known for his wildly eclectic taste and as an unsurpassed champion of new music. He died of a heart attack, aged sixty five, in 2004, after more than three decades at the BBC and is still greatly missed by his hugely diverse fanbase, this blogger very much included.
Yer man Peel's legendary collection will form part of The Space, an experimental online service funded by the Arts Council and with support and development advice from the BBC. Tom Barker, the director of the John Peel Centre for Creative Arts, said: 'It is the first step in creating an interactive online museum with access to the entire collection, one of the most important archives in modern music history.' Frank Prendergast of collaborators Eye Film and Television said: 'The idea is to digitally re-create John's home studio and record collection, which users will be able to interact with and contribute to, while viewing Peel's personal notes, archive performances and new filmed interviews with musicians.' Peel's widow, Sheila Ravenscroft, added: 'We're very happy that we've finally found a way to make John's amazing collection available to his fans, as he would have wanted. This project is only the beginning of something very exciting.' The Space will run from May to October on a variety of digital devices including PCs and smartphones and will also be available as a BBC red button service via Freeview HD.
Our on-going series continues. The Silliest Names In Television. Number Four. Nina Nannar .
Resisting the overwhelming urge, therefore, to make today's Keith Telly Topping's 45 of the Day that single by Bad Manners (or, indeed, something from The Fall to fit in with the Peel story), instead, I've gone for Mick Jones's finest three minutes .
Posted by Yer actual Keith Telly Topping at 10:14 am
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Lucy Alexander and Martin Roberts are co-presenters of which t.v. series shown on BBC 1? | Transverse Myelitis: Lucy Alexander tells how a rare disease left her young daughter confined to a wheelchair | Daily Mail Online
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When Lucy Alexander’s daughter Kitty said she felt ill one morning, her mother assumed it wasn’t anything serious. After satisfying herself there was nothing amiss, Lucy dropped her seven-year-old off at school as normal and made a mental note to call at lunchtime to check on her.
But within an hour, staff had frantically tracked down the BBC1 Homes Under The Hammer presenter to tell her Kitty had collapsed. It turned out that she had developed transverse myelitis, a rare disease of the central nervous system.
The condition, which affects about 300 Britons a year, is the result of the immune system attacking healthy tissue. In Kitty’s case, her spinal cord was affected – and now she is wheelchair-bound.
Tenacious: Kitty with her parents and brother Leo. For any child, a diagnosis of paralysis is devastating but it was especially cruel for Kitty because of her natural sporting prowess
Some experts believe that it could be triggered by a simple viral infection, but the cause is unknown. If the spinal cord becomes inflamed, nerve signals from the brain to the body can be interrupted.
In some cases, symptoms of transverse myelitis appear slowly over several weeks, but in more severe cases the onset is sudden. Kitty remembers the initial phase as ‘like an anchor being dropped on my back’.
Lucy, 41, says: ‘When I arrived at the school, Kitty’s face was an almost unrecognisable grey mask – she looked as though she’d suffered a stroke.’
Although the presenter was understandably alarmed, at this point no one realised the severity of Kitty’s condition. She was taken to the A&E department at Kingston Hospital in South-West London, where doctors carried out a knee-jerk test, which shows whether the nervous system is functioning. They got no response from Kitty’s legs. ‘You could suddenly see the panic in their faces,’ recalls Lucy.
Kitty was taken by ambulance to King’s College Hospital in South London. After a series of MRI scans and further tests, the family received a diagnosis, although they felt reassured by doctors who told them that a third of children with the condition made a full recovery.
She was then transferred to nearby St Thomas’ Hospital, where she was given steroids to reduce the inflammation of the spinal cord, and put on immunoglobulin treatment, which can deactivate antibodies that cause the immune reaction.
Lucy Alexander on Homes Under The Hammer. The presenter was forced to take time off after Kitty fell ill
Lucy and her husband, former Wimbledon footballer Stewart Castledine, 39, barely left their daughter’s side for weeks, so Lucy’s parents looked after the couple’s son Leo, then four.
‘Homes Under The Hammer were utterly supportive and said there was no rush to come back,’ recalls Lucy. ‘My co-presenter Martin Roberts has two young children himself and I think it really hit home to him as a parent.’
Kitty’s condition later took a turn for the worse as the cold virus that may have triggered the condition progressed and she succumbed to pneumonia, spending a week on a ventilator in intensive care. ‘It was at this point that I thought she could die,’ admits Lucy.
Thankfully, Kitty pulled through, but as the steroids began to reduce the inflammation, the recovery everyone had been hoping for failed to materialise. The only movements in Kitty’s legs were spasms – it meant the messages from the spinal cord to the brain were confused.
In April 2010, two months after the onset of her illness, Kitty was deemed to be out of medical danger and was transferred to the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital in Stanmore, North-West London, for rehabilitation. After eight weeks, the family decided the National Spinal Injuries Centre at Stoke Mandeville Hospital in Buckinghamshire was more suited to her needs.
'She was incredibly athletic. It was her thing'
Kitty’s treatment there included intense physiotherapy and help with relearning day-to-day skills such as how to dress herself.
Dr Ming Lim, consultant paediatric neurologist at Evelina Children’s Hospital (part of St Thomas’), says: ‘Kitty was one of our more severe cases of transverse myelitis but we have seen some functional improvement and she’s been able to carry out some weight-bearing walking on splints. This isn’t common – it’s a reflection of Kitty’s guts and her parents’ motivation. She’s one of the most inspirational children we’ve seen.’
Kitty returned to the family home in Thames Ditton, Surrey, that summer to a surprise party attended by hundreds of family and friends. Neighbours also raised enough to pay for two standing wheelchairs, costing £2,500 each, and to send her to America for treatment.
For any child, a diagnosis of paralysis is devastating but it seems especially cruel for Kitty because of her natural sporting prowess.
‘She was incredibly athletic. It was her thing,’ says Stewart. Determined to find a new passion for Kitty, Lucy enrolled her at a drama group, and now she wants to act.
There is no known cure for transverse myelitis and Dr Lim offers a mixed picture for the future.
‘The traditional school of thinking says that if you’ve not recovered in six months to a year, you’re unlikely to recover at all,’ he says. ‘However, we’ve discovered that the nervous system can regenerate after more than a year has passed, and research has shown that physiotherapy can stimulate this. We’ll never cure it but we might repair it.’
Despite extensive tests, the cause was never determined in Kitty’s case, but Lucy says: ‘We don’t feel bitter, just very sad. There’s nothing we could have done to prevent it.’
myelitis.org.uk
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Who had a number one hit in July 2000 with the song 'Spinning Around'? | Lucy¿s Under the Hammer manor (...but she broke her own auction rules to buy it) | Daily Mail Online
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Lucky: Homes Under The Hammer's Lucy Alexander
Few are better placed to give advice when it comes to buying at auction than Lucy Alexander, presenter of BBC1's popular morning TV show Homes Under The Hammer.
So it's ironic that she broke every rule in the book when she bought her own home at auction without setting foot in the property - a six-bedroom Arts and Crafts manor house in Thames Ditton, Surrey, which she shares with ex-footballer husband Stewart Castledine, 39.
'We're impulsive and gambled on this - sometimes it pays off but I'd never advocate anyone else doing it,' she says.
'I'd seen it from the outside and looked through the letterbox. We knew the area well and what we were doing in terms of property, having bought and sold 12 flats and houses,' says Lucy. She was living in a five-bedroom new-build home a few doors down at the time.
'I saw it in an auction catalogue in 2006 but we didn't have the money and didn't want to move. But when I found out it hadn't reached its reserve of £1.2million, I called up afterwards and got it for £1.1million,' she says.
The property, which had been converted into five flats in the Sixties, had been on the open market for £1.5million beforehand.
'I think buyers had been put off because it was tenanted and we didn't know whether we would get planning permission to turn it back into a house. If not, we would have turned it into luxury flats and sold them on.'
After they put down a £110,000 deposit, there followed a rush to secure the rest of the funds. 'All the money we had was tied up in other properties, so we scrabbled around and had to remortgage our home to release the equity,' says Lucy, 41.
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'We had 28 days to come up with the money.' The couple, who have two children, Kitty, nine, and Leo, six, have spent £500,000 stripping back the house while preserving original features such as the stainedglass front door.
They employed two teams of builders to rip out the kitchens and bathrooms from each flat and replace them with luxury en suites, spacious bedrooms and a dressing room for Lucy.
Good gamble: Lucy added an extension, right, to her Arts and Crafts home in Thames Ditton
They built a two-storey extension to create an open-plan diner. Above is the master bedroom suite with balcony. Set up a gated driveway, the house is now valued at more than £3million so the gamble paid off, although they admit covering the vast mortgage is a struggle.
STAR'S TIPS FOR AUCTION BUYS
You have about four weeks from publication of the auction catalogue to get the legal pack/speak to solicitors/ arrange a viewing.
Read the legal pack closely.
Do not take the catalogue as gospel. Auctioneers aren't liable in the same way as estate agents and may make mistakes over the number of bedrooms or postcode.
Find the ceiling price for the area. Have a survey before bidding. Always do a 'dummy run' auction visit so you know what to expect.
On auction day, write your top price on the front of the catalogue in bold pen and stick to it.
Have a ten per cent deposit in your bank account on the day and a firm mortgage deal not just 'in principle'.
'We should sell up to realise the profit but we've fallen in love with it, so we have to get some more projects on the go to keep this one ticking over,' says Lucy.
The couple, who still own their former home in the village and a riverside apartment in Chelsea, West London (both corporate lets), are in the process of buying another property nearby to do up and sell.
While Lucy bought near the top of the market at the end of 2006, when bank lending criteria were more relaxed, she says now is a better time to buy at auction.
'In the past the guide price was there to lure you in, but properties were going for much higher. Now it's realistic.' However, she still sees buyers spending too much.
'You have to ask why the property did not sell conventionally. I'd say 90 per cent of the time there will be an issue - be it subsidence, flying freeholds or access.
'Very often the agent will come up to me afterwards and say a buyer has paid too much,' she says.
That does not deter her, however. 'I love it when the hammer goes down and the property is yours and you're not going to be gazumped. Sometimes that's worth paying extra for.'
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By population, which is the second biggest city in Germany? | City Mayors: Largest German towns and cities 1 to 100
City Mayors reports news from towns and cities around the world. Worldwide | Elections | North America | Latin America | Europe | Asia | Africa | Events |
Mayors from The Americas, Europe. Asia, Australia and Africa are competing for the annual World Mayor Award. More
City Mayors ranks the world’s largest as well as richest cities and urban areas. It also ranks the cities in individual countries, and provides a list of the capital cities of some 200 sovereign countries. More
City Mayors lists and features urban events, conferences and conventions aimed at urban decision makers and those with an interst in cities worldwide. More
City Mayors reports political events, analyses the issues and depicts the main players. More
City Mayors describes and explains the structures and workings of local government in Europe, The Americas, Asia, Australia and Africa. More
City Mayors profiles city leaders from around the world and questions them about their achievements, policies and aims. More
City Mayors deals with economic and investment issues affecting towns and cities. More
City Mayors reports on how business developments impact on cities and examines cooperation between cities and the private sector. More
City Mayors describes and explains financial issues affecting local government. More
City Mayors reports urban environmental developments and examines the challenges faced by cities worldwide. More
City Mayors reports on and discusses urban development issues in developed and developing countries. More
City Mayors reports on developments in urban society and behaviour and reviews relevant research. More
City Mayors deals with urban transport issues in developed and developing countries and features the world’s greatest metro systems. More
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City Mayors investigates health issues affecting urban areas with an emphasis on health in cities in developing countries. More
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City Mayors describes the history, architecture and politics of the greatest city halls in the world. More
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City Mayors lists cities and city organisations, profiles individual mayors and provides information on hundreds of urban events. More
Almost 37 million people live in
Germany’s 300 largest cities
Towns and cities ranked 1 to 100
Germany is a country of thousands of medium-sized towns and cities. Only three cities, Berlin, Hamburg and München (Munich), are Millionenstädte - cities with a population of more than one million. Another nine German cities have a population of more than 500,000 people.
According to the Deutscher Städtetag (German Associations of Towns and Cities) some 51 million people the equivalent of 63 per cent of Germanys total population - live in the countrys 5,700 towns and cities. The population of Germanys 300 largest cities amounts to almost 37 million or 45 per cent of all people living in the country.
The data for the City Mayors tables of Germanys 300 largest cities was collected from a number of sources. Urs Enke acted as research consultant.
Largest German cities
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Where in the human body would you find the 'Choroid'? | Germany's Five Largest Cities by Population - Informative Articles about Germany
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Germany's Five Largest Cities by Population
Germany has numerous notable cities within its borders, each with its own unique history and attractions. Listed below are the five largest cities in Germany, ordered by their total population. A brief description of each has been provided to help you become more familiar with the various cities. A link to Amazon for each city's travel guide has also been provided if you are planning on visiting the city in question.
#1 – Berlin (Population: 3,459,218)
Berlin, the federal capital of Germany, is the country's most populated city. Housing 3,459,218 residents, the city is well known for its museums, sporting events, and universities, and also for its festivals and active nightlife. Receiving more than six million annual visitors, it's no wonder that tourism plays a large role in Berlin's industry. In fact, it is one of most visited cities in the European Union.
If you are looking for a great travel guide about Berlin, click here .
#2 – Hamburg (Population: 1,786,278)
Officially known as the "Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg (Freie und Hansestadt Hamburg)", Hamburg is Germany's second largest city with a population of 1,786,278. The city is one of Germany's most important media outlets, with around half of the country's newspaper and magazine companies taking root within its city limits.
For a great travel guide about Hamburg, try this one . Bonus, if you love The Beatles, there's also a travel guide of Beatles sites in Hamburg .
#3 – Munich / München (Population: 1,330,440)
With a population of 1,330,440, Munich is Germany's third most populous city. As the capital city of Bavaria, it is located north of the Bavarian Alps on the River Isar. One of Munich's most famous attractions is Oktoberfest, which runs for 16 to 18 days and draws millions of visitors each year who partake in the festivities. Oktoberfest is considered the world's largest people's fair.
If you'll be visiting Munich, consider bringing along this great travel guide .
#4 – Cologne / Köln (Population: 998,105)
Cologne is the fourth largest city in Germany with a population of 998,105. It is known as a city of the arts and contains hundreds of galleries and over 30 museums. The city is also home to the University of Cologne, which is one of the oldest universities in Europe.
For a guide that outlines the more unique and unusual sights in Cologne, try this interesting guide book .
#5 – Frankfurt (Population: 671,927)
Frankfurt, which has a population of 671,927, is the largest city in the German state of Hesse and the fifth largest city in all of Germany. Home to the European Central Bank, the city is the financial center for both Germany and continental Europe. Frankfurt is also considered a major transportation hub, containing one of the world's busiest airports and one of Europe's most trafficked railway terminals.
To learn more about the city of Frankfurt, check out this travel guide .
Though Berlin, Hamburg, Munich, Cologne, and Frankfurt are all highly populated cities, they each have something unique to offer to both residents and visitors alike. Whether it is the nightlife, the festivals, or the world renowned universities that initially draw your attention, something is bound to hold your interest in each of these wonderful cities.
* Population statistics based on 2010 figures.
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What is the most commonly used word in spoken English? | English Vocabulary List - Learn Frequently Used Most Common Words
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English Vocabulary
How many words do you need to know in English? This is a very common question and it varies depending on your goal. Because TalkEnglish.com focuses on speaking, the vocabulary presented in this section will be the most commonly used words in speaking.
There are roughly 100,000 word-families in the English language.
A native English speaking person knows between 10,000 (uneducated) to 20,000 (educated) word families.
Professor Paul Nation found that a person needs to know 8,000-9,000 word families to enjoy reading a book.
Studying heritage language learners reveal that a person with a vocabulary size of 2,500 passive word-families and 2,000 active word-families can speak a language fluently.
Many people do not know what a heritage language learner is. Let's say a person from Mexico moves to the US at the age of 5. The person knows basic Spanish and is fluent for a 5 year old but eventually English will become dominant. This person whose first language is Spanish actually does not know many Spanish words and must study Spanish to retain it. Because they grew up for 5 years speaking Spanish, they are a different type of language learners. This type of person is considered a heritage language learner.
GOOD NEWS - If your goal is to speak English fluently, you are not required to study 10,000 words. 2,000 is enough to get you started.
Here is another list of things to consider before studying vocabulary
Before studying vocabulary, understand the difference between each word in a word-family. By doing so, you will be able to understand how to use words more easily. A word-family is a grouping of words derived from the same base. For example, active, actively, activities, and activity are all in the same word-family.
There is a difference between passive vocabulary and active vocabulary. Passive vocabulary is used in reading and listening, where you are receiving information. Active vocabulary is used in writing and speaking, where you are giving information. In reading, you have time to think. If you want to be fluent, you don't have time to think because the definition of fluent is to speak smoothly and easily.
Your goal should be to increase the depth of your vocabulary knowledge instead of the breadth of your vocabulary knowledge. There are many English learners who know 8,000 words, but they cannot speak a single sentence. On the other hand, there are people who know only 2,000 words and they can speak fluently. The difference is how deeply you know a word. Knowing 10,000 words passively will not help you with speaking. Instead focus on learning the first 2,000 words deeply.
Learning vocabulary by memorizing the definition in your native language is an inefficient way to learn words. Rather, reading is the best way to increase your vocabulary. Learn words by seeing the word in a sentence. You can look up words in a dictionary, but study them in sentences, not the word itself.
The vocabulary words in the list below were created by extracting words from dialogs totaling more than 250,000 words. The only words to make it into the top 2,000 words were those that were present in 1) The British National Corpus top 3,000 words, 2) The Corpus of Contemporary American English top 5,000 words, and 3) The 3,000 most frequently spoken words from Longman Communication.
Before you start studying, watch this video to learn how to study and improve your English Vocabulary .
If you had to choose the first 2,000 words to learn, the list below is very accurate. The number next to the link is the actual number.
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On the bank of which river does the French city of Nantes stand? | Speak English, English Lesson, English Words & Learn English at EnglishSpeak.com
1000 Most Common English Phrases
To hear audio, click the sound icon in the audio column or place the cursor over a word. To see the meaning of a word, click on the word.
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What is the proper name for the small Alligators found in South America? | WEC203/UW230: Living with Alligators: A Florida Reality
Living with Alligators: A Florida Reality 1
Elizabeth Swiman, Mark Hostetler, Martin Main , and Sarah Webb Miller 2
Living in Florida, we have to share our space with a very large reptile, the American alligator (Alligator mississipiensis). Because of Florida's booming population growth, people and alligators are constantly forced to cross paths, increasing the chances of conflict. Knowing where alligators live, how they behave and what you can do to avoid conflict with alligators is key to sharing space safely (Figure 1).
What is the natural history of alligators?
The American alligator has survived the test of time. The family Alligatoridae first appeared about 35 million years ago. Today there are only two species of alligator in the world, the American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) and the Chinese alligator (Alligator sinensis). The name “alligator” is widely believed to have come from the Spanish name “el lagarto”. This eventually changed into "aligarto" and then "alligator" by English settlers.
Figure 1.
Credit: Milt Putnam
[Click thumbnail to enlarge.]
In addition to the American alligator, the spectacled caiman (Caiman crocodilus) and the American crocodile (Crocodylus acutus) also occur in Florida. The family Alligatoridae includes five species of caimans, which are native to Central and South America. Spectacled caimans, which are smaller than the American alligator, have become established in some parts of south Florida, presumably from people releasing pets into the wild. American crocodiles belong to the family Crocodilidae and are native to Florida. Whereas alligators prefer freshwater, crocodiles occur almost exclusively in the marine and brackish coastal waters of extreme southern Florida. Crocodiles, which are an endangered species, are much less abundant and tend to be more secretive than alligators. Consequently, conflicts are much more likely to occur between humans and alligators. Historically, alligators ranged from southern Virginia to the Florida Keys, west to the Rio Grande and up to southern Oklahoma. Today, the American alligator can be found throughout the southeastern United States from the Carolinas to Texas and north to Arkansas (Figure 2). Large populations are found in Florida, southern Georgia, and Louisiana.
Figure 2.
The range of the American alligator (where they occur) in the southeastern United States (see orange area, or darker shading, on map).
Credit: Map courtesy of Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.
[Click thumbnail to enlarge.]
Alligators may occur anywhere there is water—lakes, ponds, rivers, marshes, swamps, and even man-made canals. Although almost exclusively a fresh-water species, they have been found in brackish water and marine salt waters. Alligators play important ecological roles both as top-level predators and because they often dig or wallow to create “gator holes” that hold water during dry periods. Sometimes gator holes are important features in the Everglades because they are often the only places water is found during the dry season and provide critical habitat for fish and other wildlife. They also ensure the alligator will have a continued supply of food. Gator holes are so important that ecologists consider the alligator a “keystone species” because its actions provide habitat for many other species. In addition to gator holes, alligators sometimes dig dens in stream banks. Alligators may occupy dens year-round, but they are particularly important in winter and protect the alligator from the cold.
What do alligators eat?
Alligators primarily hunt at dusk or during the night. They lay motionless in wait for prey. Their prey selection seems to be determined primarily by size. An alligator's diet depends on what is available to it, which means it will eat just about anything including fish, frogs, birds, turtles, insects, snakes, small mammals, other alligators, white-tailed deer, wild hogs, and sometimes people's pets. Once the prey is caught, it is typically swallowed whole. Alligators have tremendously powerful jaws that can crush turtle shells and the bones of small mammals. A flap in their throat allows alligators to capture prey underwater without water entering their breathing passages.
When prey animals are too large to be swallowed whole (deer, wild hogs), the alligator will stash its kill underwater, pinning it under a submerged log or anywhere it can be wedged in for safe keeping. The alligator must then wait until the prey animal's hide is rotted and soft enough for the alligator to tear off chunks. Alligator teeth are designed for crushing and for a strong grip on prey. They are not sharp teeth like a bobcat or a wolf have for tearing meat.
How does an alligator move?
Alligators and all crocodilians have extensive modifications of the shoulder, pelvis and spine that enable them both to swim and walk on land. In the water, alligators propel themselves through the water by moving their muscular tail from side to side (lateral undulations). Partially webbed feet also help push the alligator along through the water. Although crocodiles have been clocked swimming at 10 mph, there is no definitive answer for how fast an alligator can swim. When alligators walk on land, they can move very quickly and are capable of running at speeds of 7.5 to 9 mph for short distances. The speed at which alligators can move makes them potentially dangerous in water and on land.
How do alligators reproduce?
Mating season for alligators occurs from mid-April through May. To attract females, males display by head-slapping the water and producing a deep rumbling bellow. Once a male-female pair is formed, they will swim together, touch each other's snouts, and blow bubbles. Mating takes place in the water and when completed, the male disperses and the female is left to search for a place to build her nest.
Female alligators construct nests by mounding up vegetation, sticks, leaves, and mud in a sheltered spot in or near water (Figure 3). Females use their whole bodies during nest construction—body and tail to clear an area, jaws to gather and drag vegetation, and hind legs to dig the hole in the mound for the eggs. After completing the nest, the female will deposit all of her eggs (ranging between 20 and 50) at once and cover them up with more vegetation for incubation. She may move vegetation around to keep the eggs at a fairly constant temperature. Females stay near the nest during incubation and actively defend it from predators like raccoons. Females may also be aggressive toward humans, often hissing and charging at intruders, so alligator nests should never be approached.
Figure 3.
An American alligator nest (the mound of dried grass). See the mother alligator guarding the nest? (She's at the upper right side of the nest.)
Credit: Photo by Amanda Rice.
[Click thumbnail to enlarge.]
Alligator eggs incubate for about 65 days. During this time, the alligator embryos develop and the sex is determined by the temperature at which the eggs were incubated (temperature-dependent sex determination). A temperature of 30oC (86oF) or below produces females and a temperature of 33oC (91.4oF) or higher produces males. In between those termperatures, at 32oC (89.6oF), there is about a 50-50% chance of getting males or females.
Once incubation is complete and the hatchlings are ready (Figure 4) to emerge from their eggs, they emit a "yerping" sound. A few hatchlings yerping stimulates
Figure 4.
American alligator hatchlings (babies). The yellow striping is temporary camouflage for blending in with marsh grasses and rays of sunlight slanting through the grasses. Hatchlings emerge from their eggs in August and September in Florida, and often stay near the nest site for a couple of years. Hatchlings are usually 6-8 inches long.
Credit: Photo by Thomas Wright
[Click thumbnail to enlarge.]
the other hatchlings in the clutch to yerp. This signals the female that the eggs are about to hatch and she carefully opens the nest. The hatchlings tear through their leathery egg with an egg tooth on the tip of their snout, which falls off after a few days. The mother alligator can also help the hatchlings emerge by rolling eggs between her tongue and palate. This helps to assure that all the eggs hatch at the same time.
How can I stay safe around alligators?
Alligators and Floridians usually have a peaceful coexistence, but there are recorded attacks and occasional fatalities. The key to staying safe is being alert to the possibility of alligators being present. Never feed gators or swim or wade in waters where large alligators are known or likely to occur, especially at dusk or night (when they naturally feed). It is illegal to feed alligators. When humans feed alligators, it causes the alligators to lose their natural fear of humans and to associate humans with food. It doesn't matter if people feed them human-food like marshmallows or throw them fish guts when cleaning fish, it's all bad. It changes the alligator's behavior.
Normally, alligators avoid humans, but alligators that have been fed by humans will move toward humans and can become aggressive. Alligators that have been fed by humans are dangerous and should be reported to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission.
Its very important to keep children and pets away from the water's edge wherever alligators are likely to be present. Do not allow dogs to swim or explore waters that are known to have alligators because dogs look like prey to alligators. There are far more alligator attacks on dogs than on humans. An alligator's prey selection seems based mostly on size of the potential prey animal, not so much on a keen recognition of specific animals as prey or non-prey.
What are some laws protecting alligators?
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) lists alligators as a species threatened due to similarity of appearance, which specifically refers to the similarity between alligators and the endangered American crocodile. In Florida, alligators are considered a Species of Special Concern but can be harvested legally under proper licenses and permits issued by the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. It is illegal to feed or harass alligators in Florida.
What do I do if there is a nuisance alligator in my neighborhood?
The best thing you can do is to contact your local or regional Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) office or call 1-866-FWC-GATOR. If the alligator is deemed to be a threat to the public, a licensed trapper will be sent to remove it.
What are some common misconceptions about alligators?
Myth #1. You should run zigzag if you come across an alligator.
This is a common misconception. First, it is rare for an alligator to pursue a human because humans are too large to be suitable prey. However, if an alligator does make an aggressive charge, run fast and straight (away from the alligator, of course). They usually do not run very far. But remember they are most likely to charge at you if you are near their nest.
Myth #2. Alligators have poor eyesight.
Alligators actually have very good eyesight, which is an important adaptation for hunting. They are especially adapted to see and sense movement of potential prey animals. The position of their eyes on their head (almost on the side) gives them a wide sight range. The only place they cannot see is right behind them.
Myth #3. Alligators are not good climbers.
Alligators have sharp claws and powerful tails to help them push their bodies up. Young alligators are agile climbers and adults have been known to climb fences to get to water or escape captivity. Low fences, therefore, may not be sufficient protection for pets in areas where alligators are present. Fences should be more than 4.5 feet tall if you are attempting to keep alligators out of your yard.
Myth #4. Alligators make good pets.
This is entirely untrue. Alligators make terrible pets. Although baby alligators may seem like a cool pet, it is illegal to possess or take an alligator without the proper licenses and permits from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission. Alligators are purely instinctual hunters and do not show affection. Unlike cats and dogs, alligators will never love the hand that feeds them.
Additional Information
Alligator Management http://myfwc.com/wildlifehabitats/managed/alligator/
More publications from the University of Florida about the alligator farming industry at http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/ Search with keyword "alligator" to see all alligator-related publications.
Footnotes
1.
This document is WEC203, one of a series of the Wildlife Ecology and Conservation, UF/IFAS Extension. Original publication date August 2005. Reviewed June 2011. Revised February 2014. Visit the EDIS website at http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu .
2.
Elizabeth Swiman, master's degree student, Mark E. Hostetler, associate professor and wildlife extension specialist; Sarah Webb Miller, former wildlife extension program assistant; Dept of Wildlife Ecology and Conservation; Martin B. Main, Wildlife Extension Specialist at University of Florida Southwest Research and Education Center--Immokolee. UF/IFAS Extension, Gainesville, Florida, 32611.
The Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences (IFAS) is an Equal Opportunity Institution authorized to provide research, educational information and other services only to individuals and institutions that function with non-discrimination with respect to race, creed, color, religion, age, disability, sex, sexual orientation, marital status, national origin, political opinions or affiliations. For more information on obtaining other UF/IFAS Extension publications, contact your county's UF/IFAS Extension office.
U.S. Department of Agriculture, UF/IFAS Extension Service, University of Florida, IFAS, Florida A & M University Cooperative Extension Program, and Boards of County Commissioners Cooperating. Nick T. Place, dean for UF/IFAS Extension.
| Caiman |
The word 'the' is the most commonly used word written in the English language, which two-letter word comes second? | Alligator control and management
Fig. 1. American alligator, Alligator mississippiensis
Identification
The American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis, Fig. 1) is the most common of two crocodilians native to the United States and is one of 22 crocodilian species worldwide. The other native crocodilian is the American crocodile (Crocodylus acutus). Caimans (Caiman spp.), imported from Central and South America, are occasionally released in the United States and can survive and reproduce in Florida. The American alligator is distinguished from the American crocodile and caiman by its more rounded snout and black and yellow-white coloration. American crocodiles and caimans are olive-brown in color and have more pointed snouts. American alligators and crocodiles are similar in physical size, whereas caimans are 40% smaller.
Range
The American alligator is found in wetlands throughout the coastal plain of the southeastern United States. Viable alligator populations are found in Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina. The northern range is limited by low winter temperatures. Alligators are rarely found south of the Rio Grande drainage. Alligators prefer fresh water but also inhabit brackish water and occasionally venture into salt water. American crocodiles are scarce and, in the United States, are only found in the warmer coastal waters of Florida, south of Tampa and Miami. Caimans rarely survive winters north of central Florida and reproduce only in southernmost Florida.
Habitat
Alligators can be found in almost any type of fresh water, but population densities are greatest in wetlands with an abundant food supply and adjacent marsh habitat for nesting. In Texas, Louisiana, and South Carolina, the highest densities are found in highly productive coastal impoundments. In Florida, highest densities occur in nutrient-enriched lakes and marshes. Coastal and inland marshes maintain the highest alligator densities in Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. Alligators commonly inhabit urban wetlands (canals, lagoons, ponds, impoundments, and streams) throughout their range.
Food Habits
Alligators are exclusively carnivorous and prey upon whatever creatures are most available. Juvenile alligators (less than 4 feet [1.2 m]) eat crustaceans, snails, and small fish; subadults (4 to 6 feet [1.2 to 1.8 m]) eat mostly fish, crustaceans, small mammals, and birds; and adults (greater than 6 feet [1.8 m]) eat fish, mammals, turtles, birds, and other alligators. Diets are range-dependent; in Louisiana coastal marshes, adult alligators feed primarily on nutria (Myocastor coypus), whereas in Florida and northern Louisiana, rough fish and turtles comprise most of the diet. Recent studies in Florida and Louisiana indicate that cannibalism is common among alligators. Alligators readily take domestic dogs and cats. In rural areas, larger alligators take calves, foals, goats, hogs, domestic waterfowl, and occasionally, full-grown cattle and horses.
General Biology, Reproduction, and Behavior
Alligators are ectothermic — they rely on external sources of heat to maintain body temperature. They are most active at warmer temperatures and prefer 82o to 92o F (28o to 33o C). They stop feeding when ambient temperature drops below 70o F (21oC) and become dormant below 55o F (13oC).
Alligators are among the largest animals in North America. Males can attain a size of more than 14 feet (4.3 m) and 1,000 pounds (473 kg). Females can exceed 10 feet (3.1 m) and 250 pounds (116 kg). Alligators of both sexes become sexually mature when they attain a length of 6 to 7 feet (1.8 to 2.1 m), but their full reproductive capacity is not realized until females and males are at least 7 feet (2.1 m) and 8 feet (2.4 m) long, respectively.
Alligators begin courtship in April throughout most of their range and breed in late May and early June. Females lay a single clutch of 30 to 50 eggs in a mound of vegetation from early June to mid-July. Nests average about 2 feet (0.6 m) in height and 5 feet (1.5 m) in diameter. Nests are constructed of the predominant surrounding vegetation, which is commonly cordgrass (Spartina spp.), sawgrass (Cladium jamaicense), cattail (Typha spp.), giant reed (Phragmytes spp.), other marsh grasses, peat, pine needles, and/or soil. Females tend their nests and sometimes defend them against intruders, including humans. Eggs normally take 65 days to complete incubation. In late August to early September, 9 to 10-inch (23 to 25-cm) hatchlings are liberated from the nest by the female. She may defend her hatchlings against intruders and stay with them for up to 1 year, but gradually loses her affinity for them as the next breeding season approaches.
Growth rates of alligators are variable and dependent on diet, temperature, and sex. Alligators take 7 to 10 years to reach 6 feet (1.8 m) in Louisiana, 9 to 14 years in Florida, and up to 16 years in North Carolina. When maintained on farms under ideal temperature and nutrition, alligators can reach a length of 6 feet (1.8 m) in 3 years.
Alligators are not normally aggressive toward humans, but aberrant behavior occasionally occurs. Alligators can and will attack humans and cause serious injury or death. Most attacks are characterized by a single bite and release with resulting puncture wounds. Single bites are usually made by smaller alligators (less than 8 feet [2.4 m]) and result in an immediate release, possibly because they were unsure of their intended prey. One-third of the attacks, however, involve repeated bites, major injury, and sometimes death. Serious and repeated attacks are normally made by alligators greater than 8 feet in length and are most likely the result of chase and feeding behavior. Unprovoked attacks by alligators smaller than 5 feet (1.5 m) in length are rare.
Contrary to popular belief, few attacks can be attributed to wounded or territorial alligators or females defending their nests or young. Necropsies of alligators that have attacked humans have shown that most are healthy and well-nourished. It is unlikely that alligator attacks are related to territorial defense. When defending a territory, alligators display, vocalize, and normally approach on the surface of the water where they can be more intimidating. In most serious alligator attacks, victims were unaware of the alligator prior to the attack. Female alligators frequently defend their nest and young, but there have been no confirmed reports of humans being bitten by protective females. Brooding females typically try to intimidate intruders by displaying and hissing before attacking.
Alligators quickly become conditioned to humans, especially when food is involved. Feeding-habituated alligators lose their fear of humans and can be dangerous to unsuspecting humans, especially children. Many aggressive or “fearless” alligators have to be removed each year following feeding by humans. Ponds and waterways at golf courses and high-density housing create a similar problem when alligators become accustomed to living near people.
Damage and Damage Identification
Damage by alligators is usually limited to injuries or death to humans or domestic animals. Most alligator bites occur in Florida, which has documented approximately 140 unprovoked attacks from 1972 to 1991, or about 7 per year. Since 1972, 5 deaths have been positively attributed to alligators. Historically, nonfatal attacks have also been documented in South Carolina (8), Louisiana (2), Texas (1), Georgia (1), and Alabama (1).
Alligators inflict damage with their sharp, cone-shaped teeth and powerful jaws. Bites are characterized by puncture wounds and/or torn flesh. Alligators, like other crocodilians that take large prey, prefer to seize an appendage and twist it off by spinning. Many serious injuries have involved badly damaged and broken arms on humans and legs on animals. Sometimes alligators bite or eat previously drowned persons. Coroners can usually determine whether a person drowned before or after being bitten. Stories of alligators breaking the legs of full-grown men with their tails are unfounded.
Alligators sometimes excavate extensive burrows or dens for refuges from cold temperatures, drought, and predators (other alligators and humans). Burrowing by alligators can damage dikes in impoundments.
Legal Status
The American alligator is federally classified as “threatened due to similarity of appearance” to other endangered and threatened crocodilians. This provides federal protection for alligators but allows state-approved management and control programs. Alligators can be legally taken only by individuals with proper licenses or permits. Florida, Louisiana, Georgia, South Carolina, and Texas have problem or nuisance alligator control programs that allow permitted hunters to kill or facilitate the removal of nuisance alligators. Other states use state wildlife officials to remove problem animals.
Damage Prevention and Control Methods
Exclusion
Alligators are most dangerous in water or at the water’s edge. They occasionally make overland forays in search of new habitat, mates, or prey. Concrete or wooden bulkheads that are a minimum of 3 feet (1 m) above the high water mark will repel alligators along waterways and lakes. Alligators have been documented to climb 5-foot (1.5-m) chain-link fences to get at dogs. Fences at least 5 feet high with 4-inch (10-cm) mesh will effectively exclude larger alligators if the top of the fence is angled outward.
Habitat Modification
Elimination of wetlands will eradicate alligators because they depend on water for cover, food, and temperature regulation. Most modifications of wetlands, however, are unlawful and would adversely affect other wildlife. Elimination of emergent vegetation can reduce alligator densities by reducing cover. Check with appropriate conservation authorities before modifying any wetlands.
Frightening
Aversive conditioning using sticks to prod “tame” alligators and rough handling of captured alligators have been attempted in several areas with limited success. Hunting pressure appears to be the most effective means of increasing alligator wariness and may be responsible for limiting the incidence of alligator attacks in Florida, despite increasing human and alligator populations. The historically low attack rate in Louisiana is attributed to a history of intense hunting.
Repellents
None are registered.
Trapping
Alligators can be readily trapped because they are attracted to baits. A baited hook is the simplest method and is used in Louisiana as a general harvest method and in Florida to remove nuisance alligators. Hooks are rigged by embedding a large fish hook (12/0 forged) in bait (nutria, fish, beef lungs, and chicken are popular) and suspended from a tree limb or pole about 2 feet (0.6 m) above the surface of the water. The bait should be set closer to the water to catch smaller alligators. To increase success, baited hooks should be set in the evening and left overnight during the primary feeding time of alligators. Once swallowed, the hook lodges in the alligator’s stomach and the alligator is retrieved with the attached rope. This method can kill or otherwise injure alligators and is not suitable for alligators that are to be translocated. Hooked alligators are most effectively killed by a shot to the brain with a small caliber (.22) rifle. Powerheads (“bangsticks”) can also be used to kill alligators, but should only be used with the barrel under water and according to manufacturer recommendations.
Trip-snare traps (Fig. 2) are more complicated and somewhat less effective than are set hooks but do not injure or kill alligators. An alligator is attracted to the bait and, because of the placement of the guide boards, is forced to enter from the end of the trap with the snare. The alligator puts its head through the self-locking snare (No. 3, 72-inch [1.84-m]; see Supplies and Materials), seizes the bait, and releases the trigger mechanism as it pulls the bait. The surgical tubing contracts and locks the snare on the alligator. These traps can be modified as floating sets. A variation of the trip-snare trap can be set on alligator trails and rigged to trip by the weight of the alligator (see Mazzotti and Brandt 1988).
Wire box traps have been used effectively to trap alligators. Heavy nets have been used with limited success to capture alligators and crocodiles at basking sites.
Translocation
Translocation of problem alligators was practiced extensively during the 1970s with limited success. Alligators, especially larger ones, tended to return to their original capture sites after being moved. These alligators not only caused problems during their return trip but frequently required subsequent capture and translocation. Translocation is not recommended unless areas with depleted alligator populations are available for release of problem animals.
Shooting
Next to baited hooks, shooting is probably the most effective means of removing alligators. Alligators can be shot during the day or at night, and should be shot in the brain case with a sufficiently powerful rifle (.243 caliber and larger) for an efficient and humane kill. Firearms, however, present public safety problems in most nuisance alligator settings. Furthermore, alligators sink almost immediately after dying and may be difficult to recover (by gaffs or snatch hooks) in areas with currents or dense submergent plants. This method may make confirmation of a kill difficult and may compromise the commercial value of the alligator. Crossbows with lines attached to barbed bolts work fairly well at short distances but should only be used to kill alligators.
Other Methods
Detachable-head harpoons (Fig. 3a, b) with attached lines have been used effectively to harvest nuisance alligators. A harpoon assembly (Fig. 3a) is attached to a 10- to 12-foot (3- to 3.5-m) wooden pole. The harpoon is thrust at
the alligator and, after the tip penetrates the skin, withdrawn, leaving the tip embedded under the alligator’s skin (Fig. 3b). As tension is placed on the retrieval line, the off-center attachment location of the cable causes the tip to rotate into a position parallel to the skin of the alligator, providing a secure attachment to the alligator. Harpoons are less effective than firearms, but the attached line helps to ensure the recovery of the alligator.
Snatch hooks are weighted multitine hooks on fishing line that can be cast over an alligator’s back and embedded in its skin. The size of hooks and the line strength should be suited to the size of the alligator; small alligators can be caught with standard light fishing gear while large alligators require 10/0 hooks, a 100-pound test line, and a heavy-duty fishing rod. Heavy hooks with nylon line can be hand-cast for larger alligators. After the hook penetrates the alligator’s skin, the line must be kept tight to prevent the hook from falling out. Alligators frequently roll after being snagged and become entangled in the line. This entanglement permits a more effective recovery. Snatch hooks work well during the day and at night, provided that vegetation is minimal.
Handheld poles with self-locking snares (sizes No. 2 and 3; Fig. 4) can be can be used effectively to capture unwary alligators at night. For smaller (less than 6 feet [1.8 m]) alligators, snares can be affixed to a pole with a hose clamp. For adult alligators, snares should be rigged to “break away” from the pole by attaching the snare to the pole with thin (1/2-inch [1-cm] wide) duct tape (Fig. 4). The tape or clamps allow the snare to be maneuvered and are designed to release after the snare is locked. Carefully place the snare around the alligator’s neck, then jerk the pole and/or retrieval line to set the locking snare. A nylon retrieval rope should always be fastened to the snare and the rope secured to a boat or other heavy object.
For alligators less than 6 feet (1.8 m) long, commercially available catch poles (Fig. 5; see Supplies and Materials) can be used. Snake tongs (Fig. 6, see Supplies and Materials) are effective for catching alligators less than 2 feet (0.6 m) long.
Avoidance
Measures can be taken to avoid confrontations with alligators and substantially reduce the probability of attacks. Avoid swimming or participating in water activities in areas with large alligators. Avoid water activities at dusk and at night during the warmer months when alligators are most active. Alligators can quickly surge at least 5 feet (1.5 m) onto the shore to seize prey, so care should be taken when at the water’s edge. Do not feed alligators. Avoid approaching nests and capturing young (2 feet [0.6 m]) alligators.
Economics of Damage and Control
Alligators can cause injuries and death to humans, livestock, and pets. All alligator bites require medical treatment and serious bites may require hospitalization. Infections can result from alligator bites, particularly from the Aeromonas spp. bacteria.
Lawsuits that arise from findings of negligence on the part of a private owner or governmental agency responsible for an attack site can lead to significant economic liability.
In Florida, approximately 15% of the alligator complaints are due to fear of pet losses and, to a lesser extent, livestock losses. Losses of livestock other than domestic waterfowl, however, are uncommon and difficult to verify. Levees damaged by alligator burrows or dens may require repair.
Alligators are valuable for their skin and meat. An average-sized nuisance alligator typically yields 8 feet (2.4 m) of skin and 30 pounds (13.5 kg) of boneless meat with a wholesale value of $390 (at $30 per foot for skins and $5 per pound for meat). Other products such as skulls, teeth, fat, and organs can be sold, but account for less than 10% of the value of an alligator. Nuisance alligator control programs in several states use the sale of alligator skins to offset costs of removal and administration.
Florida has the most pressing nuisance alligator problem and currently harvests about 4,000 alligators per year. Nuisance alligator harvests also occur in Louisiana (600), Georgia (400), South Carolina (250), and Texas (50).
Acknowledgments
We thank William Brownlee, Texas Parks and Wildlife Department; Ted Joanen, Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries; Steve Ruckel, Georgia Department of Natural Resources; Thomas Swayngham, South Carolina Department of Wildlife and Marine Resources; and Paul Moler and Michael Jennings, Florida Game and Fresh Water Fish Commission for providing information on their respective states and for reviewing this chapter. We also thank Thomas Murphy and Philip Wilkinson, South Carolina Department of Wildlife and Marine Resources, for providing diagrams of the trip-snare trap.
For Additional Information
Delany, M. F., A. R. Woodward, and I. H. Kochel. 1988. Nuisance alligator food habits in Florida. Florida Field Nat. 16:90-96.
Hines, T. C., and K. D. Keenlyne. 1976. Alligator attacks on humans in Florida. Proc. Ann. Conf. Southeast. Assoc. Fish Wildl. Agencies 30:358-361.
Hines, T. C., and A. R. Woodward. 1980. Nuisance alligator control in Florida. Wildl. Soc. Bull. 8:234-241.
Jennings, M. L., A. R. Woodward, and D. N. David. 1989. Florida’s nuisance alligator control program. Proc. Eastern Wildl. Damage Control Conf. 4:29-36.
Joanen, T., and L. McNease. 1987. The management of alligators in Louisiana, U.S.A. Pages 33-42 in G. J. W. Webb, S. C. Manolis, and P. J. Whitehead, eds. Wildlife management: crocodiles and alligators. Surrey Beatty and Sons Pty. Ltd., Chipping Norton, NSW, Australia.
Mazzotti, F. J., and L. A. Brandt. 1988. A method of live-trapping wary crocodiles. Herpetol. Rev. 19:40-41.
Murphy, T., P. Wilkinson, J. Coker, and M. Hudson. 1983. The alligator trip snare: a live capture method. South Carolina Wildl. and Marine Resour. Dep., Columbia. (unpub. brochure).
Thompson, B. C., L. A. Johnson, D. S. Lobpries, and K. L. Brown. 1986. Capabilities of hunters to shoot and retrieve free-swimming alligators. Proc. Ann. Conf. Southeast. Assoc. Fish Wildl. Agencies 40:342-348.
Editors
Scott E. Hygnstrom; Robert M. Timm; Gary E. Larson
PREVENTION AND CONTROL OF WILDLIFE DAMAGE — 1994
Cooperative Extension Division Institute of Agriculture and Natural Resources University of Nebraska -Lincoln
United States Department of Agriculture Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service
Animal Damage Control Great Plains Agricultural Council Wildlife Committee
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Ricky Martin first entered the pop charts as a member of which boy band? | Ricky Martin | Music Videos, News, Photos, Tour Dates | Blastro
Ricky Martin
From Lastfm :
Ricky Martin (born in San Juan, Puerto Rico on December 24, 1971 as Enrique Martin Morales), is a successful Puerto Rican pop singer who rose to fame, first as a member of the Latin boy band Menudo ,... More >
More Info:
From Lastfm :
Ricky Martin (born in San Juan, Puerto Rico on December 24, 1971 as Enrique Martin Morales), is a successful Puerto Rican pop singer who rose to fame, first as a member of the Latin boy band Menudo , then as a solo artist since 1990. He has sold over 70 million records since the start of his career. He is considered a major star in the world of Latin Pop, and is considered to have opened the doors for some of his fellow Latin American singers like Jennifer Lopez and Shakira .
From Wikipedia :
Enrique "Ricky" Martín Morales (born December 24, 1971), is a Puerto Rican pop musician, actor and author. Martin began his career at age twelve with the all-boy pop group Menudo; after five years with the group, he released several Spanish-language solo albums throughout the 1990s. He also acted on stage and on TV in Mexico, becoming a modest star in the country. In 1994 he starred on the American TV soap opera General Hospital, playing a Puerto Rican singer.
In late 1999, after releasing several albums in Spanish, Martin performed "The Cup of Life" at the 41st Grammy Awards show, which became a catalyst in bringing Latin pop to the forefront of the U.S. music scene. Following its success, Martin released "Livin' la Vida Loca" which helped him obtain enormous success worldwide and is generally seen as the song that began the Latin pop explosion of 1999 and made the transition of other Spanish-speaking artists into the English-speaking market easier. The song has sold over 8 million copies, making it one of the best selling singles of all time. His first English-language album (also titled Ricky Martin), has sold 22 million copies and is one of the best selling albums of all time. His other studio albums include: Me Amarás (1993), A Medio Vivir (1995), Vuelve (1998), Sound Loaded (2000), Almas del Silencio (2003), Life (2005), and Música + Alma + Sexo (2011).
| Menudo |
Who directed the 1965 film 'The Sound Of Music'? | Ricky Martin and Simon Cowell Searching for "Next Ultimate Latino Boy Band" in Miami | Miami New Times
Ricky Martin and Simon Cowell Searching for "Next Ultimate Latino Boy Band" in Miami
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Ricky Martin and Simon Cowell Searching for "Next Ultimate Latino Boy Band" in Miami
Friday, February 20, 2015 at 9:45 a.m.
Ricky Martin, searching for súper estrellas.
Courtesy of Sony Music Latin
Print Article
Who will be the next Ricky Martin?
The Puerto Rican heartthrob started his career, shakin' that bon-bon as a member of legendary Latin boy band Menudo when he was just 12 years old.
Now lil' Kiki is all grown up (actually, he's 43) and he's teaming up with Simon Cowell -- the man behind American Idol, The X Factor, and even One Direction -- to launch a new TV talent show, La Banda, set to seach for las próximas súper estrellas masculinas de la música latina.
There will be auditions in six cities, from Los Angeles to San Juan, and yes, Miami too.
Tickets
Sun., Jan. 22, 6:30pm
Developed by Univision, Cowell, and Haim Saban's Saban Brands, La Banda promises "the largest talent search in U.S. Hispanic TV history."
Until last night, though, the show didn't have a famous face. But during Univision's Premio Lo Nuestro pre-show special, Martin made the big announcement that he'd be joining la búsqueda for "the next ultimate Latino boy band." (And collecting an executive producer credit too.)
The quest will begin next month in L.A. and then take a trip to Ricky's homeland of Puerto Rico before wrapping in downtown Miami.
La Banda Audition Dates
March 7 Millenium Biltmore Hotel, Los Angeles, CA
March 14 Sheraton Puerto Rico Hotel & Casino, San Juan, PR
March 21 Westin Oaks Houston at The Galleria, Houston, TX
March 28 TKP New York Conference Center, New York, NY
April 4 Courtyard Marriot Chicago Downtown River North, Chicago, IL
April 11 Hilton Downtown Miami, Miami, FL
Like lots of other pop stars, Martin has been making a career of coaching wannabe súper estrellas on "music-based reality entertainment competitions." In 2012, he joined the cast of The Voice Australia. And two years later, he joined La Voz México.
But that's not to say his own music career is lagging. After all, Ricky just announced the U.S. leg of his near-interminable One World Tour . And he also released his new album, A Quien Quiera Escuchar, to a number-one debut on both U.S. and Puerto Rican charts. So who better than Kiki to instruct young ones in the ways of boy banding? He's made a 31-year career of it.
All aspiring masculinas de la música latina must register online at LaBandaOficial.com . But only "selected contestants will receive a golden ticket, which will allow them to participate in a private audition with the production team."
Another rule: "The talent search is open to boys 14 and older residing in the United States and Puerto Rico."
Oh, and the prize: "The winning band will be managed by Ricky Martin."
La Banda will premiere on Univision in September 2015.
New Times' Top Music Blogs
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Which state of America is nicknamed the 'Great Lake State'? | The State of Michigan - An Introduction to the Great Lakes State from NETSTATE.COM
The State of Michigan
Michigan Capitol, Lansing
Welcome to Michigan, the Great Lake state. Michigan is quite unique among the states in that it is divided into two distint geographic sections, the Upper peninsula, and the Lower peninsula. Lake Michigan lies between the two peninsulas. The Upper peninsula is very sparsely populated, more than 90% of the peninsula being forested. The Lower peninsula contains the cities, industry, and agriculture. The Upper and Lower Peninsulas were connected in 1957 with the construction of Big Mac, the Mackinac Bridge.
Almost half of Michigan is comprised of water and, except for Alaska, Michigan has more shoreline than any other state, fronting four of the Great Lakes: Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, Lake Huron, and Lake Erie. With 3,177 miles of Great Lakes shoreline it is easy to see why Michigan boasts a thriving recreational industry, and leads the nation with approximately one million registered pleasure boats.
"Michigan, handsome as a well made woman, and dressed and jewelled. It seemed to me that the earth was generous and outgoing here in the heartland, and, perhaps, its people to a cue from it."
Author John Steinbeck
THE STATE NAME:
The word Michigan originally referred to a clearing on the lower peninsula and was derived from the Chippewa Indian word "majigan" which means clearing. Lake Michigan was named after this clearing by European explorers in the area in the 1670's. The state later took the name of the clearing as well.
Cherry Orchard, Leelanau County
The Wolverine State
It has been generally accepted that Michigan was nicknamed "The Wolverine State" for the abundance of wolverines that once roamed the peninsula. However, according to the Michigan Historical Center, wolverines were very rare in Michigan if they were present at all. It's not clear how this nickname originated, but there are two theories.
Some think the nickname was originated by Ohioans in 1835 during a dispute over an Ohio/Michigan boundary called the "Toledo Strip." This dispute became known as the Toledo War . Though Michigan and Ohio both sent troops to the area, no shots were ever fired. It's said that Ohioans, at that time, referred to Michiganians as "...as vicious and bloodthirsty as wolverines."
Another theory is proposed that Native Americans compared the way that settlers were taking land, in the 1830s, to the way the excessively greedy wolverine went after its food.
Avalon Beach, Monroe
The Great Lake State
or "The Great Lakes State", or "The Lakes State" nicknames have been applied to Michigan for many years. They refer to the fact that Michigan shores meet four of the five Great Lakes and to the number of inland lakes in the state. The four Great Lakes that border Michigan are Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, Lake Huron and Lake Erie. There are also more than 11,000 inland lakes in Michigan and, according to the Michigan Historical Center, one is never more than six miles from an inland lake or more than 85 miles from one of the Great Lakes.
From 1968 to 1975 and from 1979 to 1983, the legend on the standard Michigan License Plate read "The Great Lake State." This legend recognizes the Great Lakes and more than 11,000 inland lakes found in the state. This legend was changed to "Great Lakes" in 1984.
Water Wonderland
This promotional nickname again references the water resources of the state of Michigan. "Water Wonderland" appeared on Michigan license plates beginning in 1954. It was modified to "Water-Winter Wonderland" in 1965. This modified legend appeared on Michigan license plates from 1965 through 1967.
Lady of the Lake
With over 40,000 square miles of water surface within its boundaries, Michigan's history has been "saturated" with the association. "Lady of the Lake" is another nickname referencing the influence of water in the state. It is thought that this nickname may have been taken from Sir Walter Scott's poem, "The Lady of the Lake."
The Auto State
This nickname draws attention to the automobile manufacturing that has played such an important role in the history of the state.
| Michigan |
Which was the first part of the autobiographical trilogy, completed by 'As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning' and 'A Moment Of War'? | American State Nicknames
Every US state has a nickname (or two, or more), but not all American states have official nicknames. By "official" I mean a nickname that has been formally adopted as a "state symbol" by the state's legislature, rather than one that is just in common use. However, a number of states have officially added a nickname to their licence plates (either as an option, or as an obligation under the legislation) even though the nickname is not recognised separately as a "state symbol".
The table shows all those that I've been able to research. I haven't included slogans or state mottos (which sometimes get mixed up with nicknames), and it's important to note that some nicknames were never widely adopted, having sometimes only appeared in one or two places.
I have used numerous reference sources for this research, although I don't include them individually here as this page is already rather long. Apart from various Almanacs, directories, dictionaries and official Web sites, my main reference source has been H.L. Mencken's The American Language. Not surprisingly there are often conflicts between sources when it comes to details, and I've tried to express this in the text.
Where possible I've tried to specifically identify whether a state has a nickname which is officially recognised as such by the state's legislature. When I've been able to do so, the details appear alongside the state's name (with the date it was adopted). No nickname alongside the state's name, means that so far I've been unable to find any formal confirmation either way.
Alabama (no official nickname)
Alabama has a central position within the cotton-growing area east of the Mississippi, which has led it to be known as the Cotton State (1844) or the Cotton Plantation State. However, this term was also applied to all the states of the area as a group. There were also many variations quoted, such as Cottondom (first seen in 1856), Cotton Belt (1871), Cotton Country (1871), and even Cottonia (1862). The first Alabamians were sometimes known as "lizards", which gave the state its earlier nickname of Lizard State back in 1845. In more recent times the state has been known as the Yellowhammer State, from Civil War days, and many people believe that it derives from the species of woodpecker - in reality, it arose from the yellow colour of the home-dyed uniforms that the Alabama troops wore during the Civil War. Occasionally, Alabama also gets the Camelia State. While there is no official nickname for the state, The Heart of Dixie is the most commonly used. It was introduced by the state's Chamber of Commerce in the 1940s for publicity purposes, and in 1951 was approved by the legislature for inclusion on licence plates, although the first of these did not appear until four years later.
Alaska (no official nickname)
Alaska has no official nickname although, when it joined the union in 1959 a number of suggestions were made. The 49th State is the most obvious, and Great Land was also suggested. It was also suggested that it be known as the Sourdough State, as well as the North Star State (this name also being claimed by Minnesota). It was even at one time referred to as Up Over (in comic opposition to New Zealand and Australia, which are "Down Under"). Various facetious nicknames were also applied, including Seward's Ice Box and Seward's Folly, after William Henry Seward who bought Alaska from the Russians in 1867. However, Alaska is more commonly (but unofficially) known as The Last Frontier, or The Land of the Midnight Sun. Alaska licence plates display North to the Future
Arizona
When Arizona was admitted to the union in 1912, it quickly gained the nickname The Baby State, which it held on to until 1959 when Alaska was admitted. However, it was also sometimes known as The Valentine State, based on the fact that it was admitted on Valentine's Day. It's not surprising that the success of copper mining the state means that it is occasionally known as the Copper State. Its connection with American Indians gave Arizona the name Apache State, with other nicknames such as Aztec State, Sand Hill State, Sunset State and Grand Canyon State being used at one time or another, with the last of these appearing on licence plates..
Arkansas (The Natural State - 1995)
The earliest known nickname for Arkansas seems to be Bear State, recorded first in 1858, and this is a nickname to which several states have laid claim. It was also sometimes known as The Bowie State and The Toothpick State (both alluding to the Bowie knife, the favourite weapon of the area, and which was sometimes called "a toothpick knife"), and the Hot-water State (because of the number of hot springs in the area). However, the first official nickname for Arkansas came in 1923 when the legislature designated the state as The Wonder State. In more modern times, Arkansas has had the unofficial nickname of The Razorback State, but was more officialy known as The Land of Opportunity for many years. Arkansas licence plates display another nickname (The Natural State) which became the state's most recent official nickname in 1995.
California (The Golden State - 1968)
California was first known simply as The Gold State, because of the Gold Rush of 1848. It was also sometimes known as El Dorado and, because of its wine connections, The Grape State. The "Gold" was changed to "Golden" by 1867, and since then the state has been known as The Golden State, which became the state's official nickname in 1968 (appearing also on licence plates). California's state flower is the Golden Poppy, which has led some to assume that it is from this which the state gets its nickname whereas in reality it is much more likely that the state flower was chosen because of the "golden" reference.
Colorado
Admitted to the union 100 years from the founding of the Union, Colorado quickly became known as The Centennial State. At about the same time, and because of the abundant silver mines, it also laid claim to The Silver State, but which Nevada disputed its right to as early as 1871. The minerals of the state also led to, according to some unconfirmed reports, The Lead State. It also tried for Switzerland of America, but four other states (Maine, New Jersey, New Hampshire and West Virginia) disputed this one. It then tried for Treasure State, but Montana wanted that. Its high elevation has led to the state occasionally being known as the Mile-high State (although that's an epithet now reserved for Denver, the "Mile High City") and the Highest State, its great beauty produced Colorful Colorado, and the many roaming bison herds led to The Buffalo Plains State. In practice, Colorado remains The Centennial State, but it is The Mountain State which appears on licence plates.
Connecticut (The Constitution State - 1959)
First known as Land of Wooden Nutmegs (after a scam commonly perpetrated there of selling useless nutmegs made of wood), the state quickly became known as The Wooden Nutmeg State, and then just The Nutmeg State. Connecticut has had its fair share of other nicknames. The fact that the first formal constitution written on American soil, back in Hartford, 1639, gave it The Constitution State, a nickname that was made the state's official nickname in 1959, and which appears on licence plates. It was also given the Provisions State and The Blue Law State, from some of its "Blue Laws" in colonial times. In 1843, the only nickname recorded for the state was The Freestone State, and it has also been known as The Land of Steady Habits.
Delaware (The First State - 23 May 2002)
Nobody quite knows where the modern-day Delaware's Blue Hen State comes from. It was first recorded in the early 1800s, and may be an allusion to a "blue hen chicken", a term meaning a "quick-tempered and fiery person", possibly deriving from the fact that Delaware soldiers took "Blue Hen Cocks" with them as entertainment in the form of cock fights. In the 16th cenury, the Spanish introduced peaches into the state, and a hundred years later the state was almost overrun with them, leading to the nickname The Peach State (which in turn led the state to adopt the Peach Blossom as the state flower in 1895). It also once had the nickname New Sweden, after the name of the original Swedish settlement of "Nye Sverige", founded in 1638. And its small size gave it the nickname of Uncle Sam's Pocket Handkerchief, or more recently, Small Wonder. The state also had two other common nicknames - The Diamond State (because of its small size) and the semi-official name (as it appears on licence plates), The First State (being the first to be admitted to the Union in 1787). In 2002, the state formally adopted The First State as its official nickname after a group of elementary school children approached the majority leader of the House and asked for help in getting the unofficial nickname made official.
District of Columbia
Not really a state as such, DC has no official nickname - but is frequently called The Nation's Capital (which appears on its licence plates) and America's First City
Florida (The Sunshine State - 1970)
At one time, back in the 1860s, Florida was known as The Peninsula State, for obvious reasons. Later in the 19th century, it also became known as The Everglades State. Florida is a large producer of oranges which led the state to be known as The Orange State (and in one reference, The Citrus State),the meaning of the state's name ("flowery") led to The Flower State and its location on the east of the Gulf of Mexico led to The Gulf State. For many years, Florida appears as The Sunshine State on its licence plates, but this name was only given official status in 1970 when it was officially adopted by the legislature. The nickname is also unofficially claimed by New Mexico and (until 1980) South Dakota.
Georgia (No Official Nickname)
In 1843, Georgia was listed as The Pine State, but thirty years later some were calling it The Cracker State. A "cracker" in this context was slang for a low Southern white man, coined in the mid-18th century (although other sources suggest that it may relate to the many teamsters in the state, and be an allusion to the cracking of their whips). Whatever the origin, many Georgians hated the nickname. Georgia has also been known as The Buzzard State (from laws Georgia introduced to protect buzzards), from the peanut came The Goober State, and from its leadership, Yankee-land of the South. The nicknames for Georgia these days are The Empire State of the South (originally used in the mid 19th century, but since then has been hotly disputed by Taxes), and the name that appears on licence plates, The Peach State (the peach being the official state fruit since 1995). However, Georgia's legislature has not designated an official nickname for the state.
Hawaii (The Aloha State - 1959)
Many of Hawaii's supporters call it Paradise of the Pacific, or Crossroads of the Pacific (although this is mostly associated with the city of Honolulu), and others call it the Pineapple State . But since 1959 a Polynesian greeting has given the state's official nickname (which also appears on licence plates), The Aloha State.
Idaho
The name of the state is often (but incorrectly) supposed to be Indian for "gem of the mountains". This has led the state to be nicknamed Gem of the Mountains, or most succinctly in more recent times, The Gem State. But Idaho's famous potatoes aren't ignored, and Land of the Famous Potato and Spud State are sometimes seen, with Famous Potatoes appearing on the licence plates.
Illinois
The sucker fish once gave Illinois the nickname, The Sucker State (and also, incidentally, gave us the slang word "sucker", for someone who is easy prey). The state has actually had numerous nicknames over the years - Garden of the West, The Garden State and The Corn State being just three of them. Lincoln began his political career in Illinois, and in 1955 its slogan became Land of Lincoln (which now appears on its licence plates). However, these days it is often known as The Prairie State, a name which it has had since at least as early as 1842, before which it was a term applied to all the plain states.
Indiana (no official nickname)
Indiana is one of the few states that has had only one nickname - The Hoosier State - a name it has had since the 1830s. At one time, a "hoosier" was any rough person in the Wild West, but it eventually came to be applied contemptuously (like "Yankee") to anyone from Indiana. Nobody quite knows where "Hoosier" comes from, but it seems to have first appeared in 1826. Indiana licence plates display the motto, The Hospitality State
Iowa
Nobody is quite sure where the name "Hawkeye" came from, but it is possibly from Fennimore Cooper's "The Last of the Mohicans" - alternatively, it may have been coined as a tribute to the Indian leader, Chief Black Hawk. It seems to have applied to Iowans from around 1840, and The Hawkeye State is first recorded around 1859. A more popular and recent (but also only semi-official) nickname is the Corn State, which has appeared on the state licence plates.
Kansas (The Sunflower State)
Kansas has probably had more nicknames in its history than any other state. Around the time of the Civil War, it was known as The Battleground of Freedom, but later was known as The Garden of the West, or just The Garden State. However, these last two nicknames were disputed by other states and never really caught on. Another pre-Civil War nickname, based on the old "squatter laws", was The Squatter State. In 1890 it was The Grasshopper State, and other natural calamities gave The Cyclone State and The Dust Bowl State. It has also been called The Salt of the Earth. The Jayhawker State is a name derived from the slang name for a Kansan from around 1875 (although it was used in a wider sense as a fighting abolitionist before then), and still occasionally used, but shortened to Jayhawk State. Kansas itself officially favoured the more demure Sunflower State, which is the official nickname (and the sunflower is the state flower), with The Wheat State appearing on its licence plates.
Kentucky (The Bluegrass State)
The "Blue Grass" region of the US once extended from Pennsylvania in the east to Ohio in the west, and down into Tennessee in the south. Although the grass is green, the bluish buds produced in the spring give the grass a distinctly blue colour. Kentucky itself was the Bluegrass State from the time of the Civil War, and remains so (the name appears on the state licence plates). One suggestion for the origin of the name "Kentucky" is that it means "dark and bloody ground", and this led to the state (actually its a commonwealth) being known as Dark and Bloody Ground. This refers to battles between tribes of Indians, and not to any conflict with the white man, despite the fact that references as early as 1839 were saying that it was an allusion to battles between Indians and the first white settlers, and brought to the language by Daniel Boone. Over the years, Kentucky has been known as the Hemp State, the Rock-Ribbed State and the Tobacco State.
Louisiana
Louisiana has been the Pelican State since around 1859 (the Pelican is also the official state bird), and has had few nicknames since then. In 1872, it was listed as being the Creole State, but the misunderstandings of northerners, who thought it suggested African blood rather than the correct meaning of "caucasian", led to its demise. Occasionally, Louisiana gets called the Sugar State. The influence of the great river has led some to call it Child of the Mississippi, and the state's many waterways have also results in the Bayou State (which is the name on the state's licence plates).
Maine
Maine has a pine tree on its seal, and has been known as the Pine Tree Statesince the middle of the 19th century, possibly aroun the 1850s. It derives from the white pine, the official state tree. But it was also recorded as the Lumber State in 1843. The state motto is Dirigo, meaning "I direct", and this has led some to call it the Old Dirigo State. Licence plates in Maine declare the state to be Vacationland, and it has also been known as the Border State.
Maryland
Maryland is another state that has had numerous nicknames since colonial times. Old Line State (from the Maryland Line in the old Colonial army, which some say was bestowed on the state by George Washington) and Terrapin State (representative of the decline in standing of the state), are probably the oldest, but in 1923 the editor of the Baltimore Sun used the name Maryland Free State in an ironic editorial when the state was denounced as a traitor to the union for not introducing legislation to enforce prohibition. In fact the editorial was never published, but he went on to use the term in other articles and this soon spread amongst other newspapers in the state, often being shortened to the Free State. Maryland has also been known as the Monumental State (a name which had appeared by 1843, and which derives from Baltimore's nickname of "Monumental City"), the Oyster State (from the Chesapeake oyster, once considered a great pride for the state) and also the Chesapeake State (by which name it is known on its licence plates).
Massachusetts
Massachusetts is a commonwealth, and is usually known as the Bay State, a nickname that goes right back to its early settlers in 1789, with Old Bay State appearing some 50 years later. Both allude to the colony of Massachusetts Bay, founded in 1628. The earlier Plymouth settlement gave Massachusetts Old Colony, a name which first appeared around 1798, and those first colonists also led to the state sometimes being known as the Pilgrim State and the Puritan State. There are reports of it also being called the Baked Bean State, an allusion to the fact that the puritans would serve baked beans on Sundays. But Massachusetts licence plates declare The Spirit of America or The Codfish State
Michigan
Michigan has been known as the Wolverine State from at least 1846, when it first appeared in the "Knickerbocker Magazine", although "Wolverine" for an inhabitant of Michigan goes back at least 10 years earlier. Nobody is quite sure exactly why this name should have been applied, as there is no evidence that wolverines actually existed in the state. It is likely that the name was given to Michiginians because of their vicious and gluttonous actions, either by the Ohians during the Toledo War (over a disputed strip of land around Toledo) or by the Indians who saw how aggressively the land was being taken. Michigan is also known as the Lake State, or the Great Lakes State (which appeared on the state licence plates) for its proximity to Lake Michigan, but this name conflicts with the "Lake States", given to the states which border the Great Lakes. To avoid this conflict, some have turned it into the Lady of the Lake and the more remote Water Wonderland. Detroit's heavy car manufacturing industry has also led some to refer to the Auto State.
Minnesota
The official nickname of Minnesota is the North Star State, and the state seal has the motto L'Etoile du Nord on it. It is also commonly known as the Gopher State, a nickname which dates back to around 1880 and is based on the fact that the American football team of the Minnesota State University were known as "The Golden Gophers" (a variety of squirrel) - but Arkansas also laid claim to the name 35 years earlier. Energetic supporters of the state have variously given it names like Bread and Butter State or Bread Basket of the Nation, Cream Pitcher of the Nation, and the Wheat State, all based on the state's production of wheat and dairy produce, and Playground of the Nation. The numerous lakes in the state have also led it to be known occasionally as the Land of 10,000 Lakes (in fact, Minnesota has more like 12,000 lakes) - Minnesota licence plates have 10,000 Lakes on them.
Mississippi
In 1872, Mississippi was known as the Mudcat State, after a large catfish that lived in the river mud (a similar allusion may also have given it the less common nickname the Mud-Waddler State) . Bayou State dates from around 1867, and Eagle State is possibly a shortening of Border-Eagle State, which first appeared around 1846, and both may be from the eagle that appears on the state's seal. The state is also sometimes known as the Groundhog State or the Hospitality State (which appears on the licence plates) . However, the abundance of the magnolia, and its adoption as the official state flower and tree, has led to the modern nickname of the Magnolia State.
Missouri
Missouri has been known as the Iron Mountain State, Bullion State (from around 1848, and possibly an allusion to the nickname of Missouri senator Benton, who was known as "Old Bullion"), the Lead State, the Ozark State, the Puke State (possibly a corruption of "Pike", as there is a Pike County in Missouri, and another just across the river in Illinois), the Cave State, and the Pennsylvania of the West. The modern nickname of the Show Me State (which also appears on licence plates) was given national popularity at the end of the 19th century from a phrase included in a speech by a Missouri congressman, William Vandiver, although it had existed before then.
Montana
In its early days, Montana was the Bonanza State (around 1893, and from the rich mineral deposits) and the Stub-Toe State (from 1890, and an allusion to its steep mountain slopes). But the rich gold and silver deposits have led it now to be known as the Treasure State, although the wide open spaces have also produced Big Sky Country (which is what appears on the state's licence plates)
Nebraska (The Cornhusker State - 1945)
In 1922, Nebraska was sometimes known as the Antelope State, and the Black Water State. But the legislatures has already passed an act in 1895 which declared the state as the Tree Planters State, and its licence plates showed the Beef State. The dark colour of its rivers resulted in some calling it the Black Water State in around 1916. Others have called it the Bugeating State, after a nickname of "Bug-eaters" given to Nebraskans, a derogatory term based on the poverty-stricken appearance of the state. In 1945, the original nickname (which also appears on licence plates) was replaced by the Cornhusker State, where "Cornhusker" was originally applied to the University of Nebraska's athletic and football teams.
Nevada
Having been admitted to the Union during the Civil War, Nevada adopted the Battle-Born State as its nickname, and this is still used today, having been officially adopted as the staet slogan in 1937. Facetious nicknames, like Divorce State have appeared (in this case, due to the rise of Reno and Las Vegas), but the state was more seriously known as Silverland (traced back to 1863, from the wealth of silver deposits). This eventually became the Silver State (a nickname challenged by Colorado, but which is what appears on the state's licence plates today), and also led to the Mining State. However, the Sagebrush State (challenged by Wyoming) is more common (the sagebrush being the state's official flower), occasionally shortened to Sage State
New Hampshire
Back in 1830, New Hampshire was known as the Granite State, and this nickname has prevailed to the present day (there was once a huge industry based on the quarrying of granite). On the way, various other nicknames have appeared, such as White Mountain State, Switzerland of America (both because of the abundance of white-topped mountains) and the Mother of Rivers (because of the many rivers which start in the white mountains). New Hampshire licence plates declare the state motto, Live Free or Die!
New Jersey (no official nickname)
In the 1880s, New York suffered plagues of insects which originated in the marshes of New Jersey, which led the state to be known as the Mosquito State. The clam fisheries on the coast led some to call it the Clam State, and others called it Switzerland of America (one of five states to be so-called). The famous "Camden and Aboy Railroad" led to the state sometimes being known as the Camden and Aboy State, and the blue uniforms of the Civil war gave it the Jersey Blue State. But these days New Jersey is simply known as the Garden State, a name coined by Abraham Browning in a speech at the Centennial Exhibition in 1876, and which has, despite the objection and veto of the governor, appeared officially on state licence plates since about 1954.
New Mexico
New Mexico has been known as the Sunshine State, a name recorded from around 1926, as well as the Cactus State, and the Spanish State. Enthusiastic supporters have variously regaled New Mexico with Land of Cactus, Land of the Delight Makers, Land of Opportunity, Land of Heart's Desires and Land of Enchantment, but it is the last of these which has stuck and which appears on licence plates.
New York
The state motto is "Excelsior", and some have called New York the Excelsior State. The trousers worn by the early Dutch settlers resulted in the Knickerbocker State It has also sometimes been known as the Gateway to the West. But, when George Washington referred to New York state as "the seat of Empire" in 1784, he set the seed for the state's long-term nickname which appeared in around 1820 - the Empire State. It is this which appears on state licence plates.
North Carolina
Once commonly known as the Old North State, because of its position and history, North Carolina has some beautiful mountain country which led it to also be known as the Land of the Sky. But the modern day nickname of the Tarheel State goes back to the mid 19th century. North Carolinians were known as "tarboilers" as early as 1845, also as "Tar Heels". Why they were so called is not really known - one suggestion is that a brigade of North Carolinians failed to hold a position during the war in 1869, and Mississippians blamed the fact that they had failed to tar their heels that morning. By 1844, the state was being called the Tar and Turpentine State, and by 1859 just Turpentine State. The Wright Brothers launched their first flight in North Carolina, and this has led to First In Flight, a nickname or motto which now appears on car licence plates, along with First in Freedom
North Dakota
A local ground squirrel, the flickertail, gave North Dakota its Flickertail State nickname (an attempt to make this the official nickname in 1953 was defeated), and the Indian tribes its Sioux State and Land of the Dakota .Its importance led it to be sometimes known as Great Central State. But the International Peace Gardens (crossing the northern border of the state into Manitoba) have given the state its modern nickname (and car licence plate slogan) of the Peace Garden State (it's worth noting that some references incorrectly give "Peach Garden State", which is a transcription error that seems to have propagated through many works!) - it first appeared on licence plates in 1956, and in 1957 the legislature formally required it to appear on licence plates.North Dakota was also known as the Roughrider State (an allusion to the "Rough Rider" cavalry that Theodore Roosevelt is supposed to have led) and this name was used in the 1960s and 1970s as part of a tourist campaign, but attempts in 1971 and 1973 to have this replace "Peace Garden State" on licence plates failed.
Ohio
During the very early part of the 19th century, Ohio was sometimes known as the Yankee State since many settlers had come from New England, but that's a nickname that was given up a long time ago. Some of the state's proponents claimed Mother of Presidents, (sometimes Mother of Modern Presidents) having been where more than half a dozen presidents had started their lives (it's a name that Virginia once used). But the state tree, a variety of horse chestnut, gives the state its current nickname of the Buckeye State - although its adoption owes a lot to William Henry Harrison who, during the 1840 presidential adopted a log cabin made of buckeye timber as his emblem, and many of his supporters would carry buckeye canes. Ohio licence plates declare The Heart of it All
Oklahoma
Even before the land was thrown open to white settlement, many early settlers snuck across the border and made claims there. When the first official settlers were allowed across, they found these "sooners" already in possession of the land that they were hoping to take. This led to the state being called the Sooner State. Those who had waited patiently for the canon's "boom", a signal that they could cross into Oklahoma, resulted in the much rarer nickname Boomer State, or Boomer's Paradise. According to some Oklahoma licence plates, Oklahoma is OK!
Oregon
Through the years, Oregon has various been called the Sunshine State (yes, another one!), Webfoot State (derived from the nickname given to residents, because of the high level of rainfall) and Hard-case State (named after the evil characters who flocked to the state in its early days, and from their austere descendants). But Oregon's state animal is the beaver (since 1969), and it is a widely recognised symbol for the state - which has led the State University athletic team to be known as "the Beavers", and state to being called the Beaver State. Oregon licence plates call the state Pacific Wonderland
Pennsylvania
One of the oldest state nicknames (and that which appeasr on its licence plates) is the Keystone State, probably applied to Pennsylvania from the late 18th century (although the first official citation is from 1802, when at a rally Pennsylvania was toasted as "the keystone in the union"). The industry of Pennsylvania once gave it the nicknames of the Coal State and Steel State, but these have long drifted into oblivion. Philadelphia is known as "The Quaker City", a name which was sometimes been transferred to Pennsylvania itself as the Quaker State.
Rhode Island (no official nickname)
The smallest state (but the one with the longest full name of "Rhode Island and Providence Plantations") is often just called Little Rhody, dating back perhaps as early as 1851 (and more recently, the Smallest State). In 1847, it was being referred to as the Plantation State (a reference to the state's full name). Because of its position, its other common nickname (mainly for the benefit of tourists) is the Ocean State, and this is what appears on its licence plates.
South Carolina
The palmetto palm (a variety of fan palm) has been associated with South Carolina since colonial days, and the first appearance of Palmetto State (the nickname used in modern times) appears to have been around 1843. But numerous other nicknames have emerged over the years - Rice State, the Swamp State, the Iodine State (used to promote iodine-rich produce) and the Sand-lapper State. It is also sometimes known as the Keystone of the South Atlantic, and the Seaboard State. State licence plates use the first words of the song - Nothing Could be Finer
South Dakota (The Mount Rushmore State - 1980)
When Dakota split into two parts, South Dakota became variously known as the Blizzard State, the Artesian State (for the many artesian wells in the state), and the Land of Plenty. It was also known as the Sunshine State a name, which unlike the other three, was retained and which was depicted on the state flag until 1980. In that year, South Dakota deferred to Florida's claim on the nickname and relaunched the state officially as the Mount Rushmore State, which appears in words on the state flag. The other common nickname is The Coyote State, which comes from the prairie wolf, named by the Nahuatl Indians as the "coyotl", from which we get "Coyote" (and which is also a nickname for the residents of the state). Licence plates declare Great Faces, Great Places.
Tennessee
Tennessee is known officially (by some accounts) and on its licence plates as the Volunteer State, a name which goes back (depending on which reference you use) either to 1812, when the volunteer soldiers showed particular courage in the Battle of New Orleans, or to 1847 when the Governor called for three regiments to serve in the Mexican War, and 30,000 men volunteered. The state was also known as the Lion's Den, back in 1843, possibly because border ruffians were then known as "lions of the West". Tennessee is named after the Indian name for the state, which means "The River with the Big Bend", and which led to The Big Bend State, and the diet of fatback pig and cornmeal (both abundant produce in the state) gave it the Hog and Hominy State (it is also sometimes known as the Hog State, and the Hominy State). Tennessee remembers the fact that it was the home of three US Presidents, in the nickname Mother of Southwestern Statesmen. The tan colour of Tennessee soldiers' uniforms in the War Between the States gave them the nickname of "butternuts" (after the squash), and the state is sometimes known as the Butternut State as a result.
Texas (no official nickname)
Probably no state has a more well-known nickname than Texas - the Lone Star State (which is how it is described on its licence plates). It represents the symbol on the 1836 Texas Republic flag (itself based on history going back to the "Long Expedition" in 1819), and on the state flag and seal of today. Despite its prominence, the nickname is purely traditional and has not been enshrined in legislation. Many attempts have been made to apply other nicknames to the state, with various levels of success. Its huge cattle "industry" led it to be known as the Beef State for a while, and its size gave it the Jumbo State. In 1961, the New Yorker called it the Super-American State, and others have tried for the Banner State, and the Blizzard State.
Utah
The first settlers in Utah were the members of the Church of Latter Day Saints, also called the Mormons. Their hard work and great influence in the state has given Utah most of its various nicknames. Its common, and long-standing, nickname, the is Mormon State, of which there are a couple of variations - such as Land of the Mormons and Land of the Saints. The Mormons named the state "Deseret" when they arrived, and so Utah was also sometimes known as the Deseret State. "Deseret", from the Book of Mormon, is actually a honeybee, and the early Mormon settlers were described as having carried with them "swarms of bees". This is what gave the state its symbol (officially adopted in 1959) of a conical beehive with a swarm of bees around it (on the state flag), and the nickname of the Beehive State. The only "non-Mormon" nickname is the Salt Lake State, but even this is closely linked with the Mormons, who first settled in what is now known as Salt Lake City, next to the great Salt Lake.
Vermont
I can find no reference to any other nickname for Vermont other than the Green Mountain State (which, not surprisingly, is also on the licence plates). This name comes from "Green Mountain Boy", a name for an inhabitant going back to 1772, in turn named after the militia of the previous year which was organised to protect the state against the New Yorkers (and, of course, derives from the state's name itself, coined in 1761 by Rev Dr Peters, who named the mountains "Verd Mont", meaning "green mountain", which itself probably came from the "Green Mountains" which were named by Samuel de Champlain in 1647).
Virginia
Virginia has the oldest citation for any state nickname. Old Dominion has its first recorded sighting in 1778, but this derives from Ancient Dominion, the nickname for the state from the end of the 17th century. It is also known as the Mother of States, being the first state to be colonised (a name not attributed to Virginia until 1855, whereas Connecticut had been given the name in 1838), and Mother of Presidents, because Virginia supplied seven of the first twelve of the US Presidents. Some also developed this last name into Mother of Statesmen. The early British loyalists who settled in the states were Cavaliers, and this gave the state another nickname, the Cavalier State. Virginia's licence plates are a little less ambitious, and simply declare Visit Virginia!
Washington
The many conifer forests of Washington state produced the nickname the Evergreen State, coined by Seattle Realtor and historian, C.T. Conver. Although numerous references say that the nickname was officially adopted by the legislature in 1893, the Washington legislature's own Web site says that it "has never been officially adopted by law". It is also known as the Green Tree State, which appears on its licence plates. Before that, the Chinook Indians lent their name to the Chinook State, a nickname which has been traced back to 1890.
West Virginia
West Virginia is one of the states which attempted to lay claim to the Switzerland of America, but is more usually known (including on licence plates) as the Mountain State. The shape of the state also gave West Virginia The Panhandle State.
Wisconsin
Wisconsin inhabitants are "badgers", and Wisconsin is the Badger State. The name appears to have arisen from the early lead miners who worked at the Illinois Galena lead mines in the 1830s. These mines are close to where Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin meet, and were also responsible for giving the "Sucker" and "Puke" nicknames to those from Illinois and Iowa. However, "badger" arose not from the burrowing in the lead mines, but because those from Wisconsin did not live in houses, but in caves in the hillside that looked like badger burrows. They earned the nickname at the mines, and took it back on their return to Wisconsin. Interestingly, Wisconsin adopted the badger as the official state animal in 1957. But Wisconsin is predominantly a dairy state, producing 40% of the country's cheese, and 20% of its butter - not surprisingly, then, the state is sometimes nicknamed the Dairy State, America's Dairyland (which is how it appears on licence plates) or even the Cheese State.
Wyoming
The first grant of suffrage in the US was made in Wyoming in 1869, leading to the state being called the Suffrage State or the current Equality State. But the state's symbol is a cowboy on a bucking bronco, leading to some calling it the Cowboy State. Wyoming's licence plates declare, Like No Place on Earth.
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The Yas Bay Circuit used in Formula One for the first time in 2009, is the venue for which Grand Prix? | Yas Marina Circuit - F1 | Abu Dhabi Grand Prix
Official Founding Partner for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Timing Partner for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Electronics Partner for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Mall for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Yas Drag Racing Centre Lubricant
Official Tyre Supplier for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Partner Yas Marina Circuit
Official Partner Yas Marina Circuit
Official Water Supplier for Yas Marina Circuit
Official Supplier Yas Marina Circuit
Official Partner Yas Marina Circuit
Official Partner - Abu Dhabi Sports Council
Official Retail Partner - Hackett
Yas Marina Circuit
| Abu Dhabi |
What is the soft shawl made from the under fleece of goats in Northern India? | 2016 Formula 1 Abu Dhabi - Results and Teams
Bahrain Grand Prix - 03 Apr Bahrain: Bahrain International Circuit
About this race
The 2004 Grand Prix of Bahrain marked the first ever round of the FIA Formula One World Championship to be held in the Middle East.
The 5.412 km Grand Prix circuit was designed with the spectator in mind, with 50,000 grandstand seats, all providing excellent views. Those spectators (a total of 100,000 over a race weekend) get to see the cars heading into the external desert area, before coming back into the oasis-styled infield.
It offers the driver a unique experience in the way the circuit's width varies at the end of the different straights. This allows for diverse racing lines, and the 15-corner design provides at least three genuine overtaking opportunities.
When Friday 01 – Sunday 03 April, 2016
Where Bahrain, Sakhir
Chinese Grand Prix - 17 Apr China: Shanghai International Circuit
About this race
The Shanghai International Circuit was designed as the race circuit for the new millennium. And the modern track, with its stunning architecture, has achieved its goal of becoming China's gateway to the world of Formula One racing since it debuted on the calendar in 2004.
Not only is the course remarkable for its change of acceleration and deceleration within different winding turns, making high demands on the driver as well as the car, but also for its high-speed straights. These offer crucial overtaking opportunities and give an intense and exciting motorsport experience to the spectators. The main grandstand with 29,000 seats provides a spectacular view of almost 80 percent of the circuit.
When Tuesday 19 – Sunday 17 April, 2016
Where China, Shanghai
Russian Grand Prix - 01 May Russia: Sochi
About this race
The Sochi circuit is the first purpose-built Formula One facility in Russia and hosts the country's inaugural Grand Prix in October 2014, in the same year that the city also stages the Winter Olympics.
Construction of the 5.853-kilometre track has come under the design supervision of renowned circuit architect Hermann Tilke. The track width varies from 13 metres at its narrowest point to 15 metres at the start-finish line. The circuit, which runs in a clockwise direction, consists of 12 right- and six left-hand corners, and combines both high-speed and technical sections. Formula One cars are expected to reach a maximum speed of 320 km/h on the 650-metre straight between the first and second turns, with an average lap speed of around 215 km/h.
When Friday 29 – Sunday 01 May, 2016
Where Russia, Sochi
Spanish Grand Prix - 15 May Spain: Circuit de Catalunya
About this race
The Formula One teams are no strangers to Barcelona's Circuit de Catalunya; not only have they raced there every year since 1991, they also conduct extensive testing at the venue.
Barcelona's mix of high and low-speed corners, plus its abrasive and rather bumpy track surface, makes for a physically and mechanically taxing race. Tyre wear is particularly high and the varying winds that cut across the circuit mean an optimum set-up can be hard to find.
For spectators Elf corner is one of the track's few overtaking opportunities. For the drivers it is the final two turns, known collectively as New Holland, which provide one of the biggest challenges of the season. A fast exit is essential in order to maximise speed down the start-finish straight into Elf.
When Friday 13 – Sunday 15 May, 2016
Where Spain, Catalunya
Monaco Grand Prix - 29 May Monaco: Circuit de Monaco
About this race
The Monaco Grand Prix is the one race of the year that every driver dreams of winning. Like the Indy 500 or Le Mans, it stands alone, almost distinct from the sport from which it was born. A combination of precision driving, technical excellence and sheer bravery is required to win in Monte Carlo, facets which highlight the differences between the great and the good in Formula One.
Cars run with maximum downforce and brakes are worked hard. Overtaking is next to impossible so qualifying in Monaco is more critical than at any other Grand Prix. The Portier corner is key to achieving a good lap time around Monaco. It is preceded by the Loews hairpin, the slowest corner in Formula One, and followed by the tunnel, one of the few flat-out sections of the track.
When Thursday 26 – Sunday 29 May, 2016
Where Monaco, Monte Carlo
Canadian Grand Prix - 12 Jun Canada: Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve
About this race
The first race to be held on this circuit was October 1978. Gilles Villeneuve, in his first season with Ferrari, was yet to win a Formula One race, but at his home Grand Prix he took a memorable debut victory. Following his tragic death in 1982, the track was renamed in his honour.
Some of the great drivers of the sport have taken the spoils here include Michael Schumacher, who holds the record of having won seven times in Canada. It is also the scene of Jean Alesi's single Grand Prix victory in 1995, driving the number 27 Ferrari, the same car number which carried Gilles Villeneuve into the hearts of the Canadian Formula One fans.
When Friday 10 – Sunday 12 June, 2016
Where Canada, Montréal
Grand Prix of Europe - 19 Jun Azerbaijan: Baku City Circuit
About this race
Azerbaijan is the latest addition to the Formula 1 calendar. The challenging street circuit will take place in the beautiful city centre Baku which is a combination of history and modern skylines with views across the Caspian sea.
The circuit has been designed by renowned F1 track architect Hermann Tilke and claims to be the fastest street circuit of the season. It is 6 km long and features 20 turns, 8 turns to right and 12 to left.
Tilke said "Obviously street circuits present a number of challenges, in terms of circuit design, but we have been able to incorporate some unique features that will provide the teams and fans with fascinating racing."
When Friday 17 – Sunday 19 June, 2016
Where Azerbaijan, Baku
Austrian Grand Prix - 03 Jul Austria: Red Bull Ring
About this race
In the 1950s local group of motor racing enthusiasts created an L-shaped circuit with cones and hay bales in the town of Zeltweg. The first race was held there in 1958 and went on to hold two rounds of the Formula Two Championship in 1959 and 1960. In 1964 the circuit hosted a round of the world championship. In 1965 Formula One racing decided not to return, but the sportscar event was still run and won by local hero Rindt.
Rindt's success, coupled with a growing interest in F1 racing, led to funding for a purpose-built circuit. The Osterreichring was located in a natural basin and proved to be one of the fastest tracks in the world. Its impressive corners, wonderful aesthetics and demand on driver skill would pass into Formula One legend. It was eventually redeveloped as the Red Bull Ring and reopened in 2011.
When Friday 01 – Sunday 03 July, 2016
Where Austria, Spielberg
British Grand Prix - 10 Jul Great Britain: Silverstone Circuit
About this race
When the Formula One World Championship was incepted in 1950, Silverstone held the very first round, won by Guiseppe Farina in an Alfa Romeo. More recently, various upgrades have been made to the track's facilities including a new racing school. Importantly, with government funding, a new bypass has been built, greatly improving access to the once notoriously out-of-the-way venue.
Major changes were made to the circuit's Formula One layout, designed to improve the venue for spectators and provide an even greater driver challenge. The new infield layout juts right at the reworked Abbey bend before heading into the new Arena complex of turns. This takes drivers on to the main straight of Silverstone’s National circuit, before rejoining the previous Grand Prix layout at Brooklands.
When Friday 08 – Sunday 10 July, 2016
Where Great Britain, Silverstone
Hungarian Grand Prix - 24 Jul Hungary: Hungaroring
About this race
Hungary first hosted a grand prix in the 1930s, but following the Second World War and the building of the Iron Curtain it was not until the 1960s that motorsport began to find a place in the country.
A brand new circuit 19 kilometres outside Budapest opened in 1986 and it held its first Formula One event in August that year. It was a huge success and almost 200,000 fans showed up.
Although tight and twisty, the circuit has been known to throw up some great races, the most memorable being Thierry Boutsen's win in 1990, beating Ayrton Senna by 0.3 seconds, and the 1997 race where Damon Hill in the Arrows sensationally passed Michael Schumacher's Ferrari only to be denied the win by mechanical failure on the very last lap.
When Friday 22 – Sunday 24 July, 2016
Where Hungary, Budapest
German Grand Prix - 31 Jul Germany: Hockenheim
About this race
The original Hockenheim circuit was built in 1939, it was almost eight kilometres long and was formed of two long, curved straights with a long corner at either end.
In 2002 the long runs through the forest were done away with and the layout of the track was heavily modified. And with the success in recent years of local heroes Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel, the German Grand Prix at Hockenheim has become one of the most atmospheric races of the season, with the noise from fans in the stadium section being almost deafening at times.
When Friday 29 – Sunday 31 July, 2016
Where Germany, Hockenheim
Belgian Grand Prix - 28 Aug Belgium: Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps
About this race
Belgium's Spa-Francorchamps circuit is among the most historic on the Formula One calendar, having hosted a (non-championship) Grand Prix as long ago as 1924, and remains one of the most popular venues with drivers and fans alike.
Spa remains the longest circuit on the calendar. Its mix of long straights and challenging fast corners, coupled with its picturesque setting, means that most drivers still rank it among their favourite tracks. The weather is still notoriously changeable (it can often be simultaneously raining on one part of the track and dry on another) and Eau Rouge, with its high speed and sudden elevation change, maintains its reputation as one of Formula One racing's most technically demanding corners.
When Friday 26 – Sunday 28 August, 2016
Where Belgium, Francorchamps
Italian Grand Prix - 04 Sep Italy: Autodromo di Monza
About this race
Monza is regarded by many as the embodiment of Formula One racing. Not only is it a fantastic example of a track that combines speed with skill, it also has a heart and soul all of its own. It has seen some of the finest races of all time, but also some of the sport's worst accidents. The names of great drivers and the sounds of engines from years gone by linger in the grand old trees surrounding the track in the royal park.
The list of famous victories and horrifying crashes is long, and all combine to make Monza one of the most magical places on the Formula One calendar. For many there is nowhere that encapsulates the sport better than this circuit. The Italians call it 'La Pista Magica', the magic track, a description few would disagree with.
When Friday 02 – Sunday 04 September, 2016
Where Italy, Monza
Singapore Grand Prix - 18 Sep Singapore: Marina Bay Street Circuit
About this race
In 2008 Singapore had the honour of hosting the first night-time event in Formula One history. The inaugural Singapore Grand Prix proved a huge hit, staged on a new street circuit, with the city's famous skyline providing a truly spectacular backdrop. It instantly established itself as one of the most dramatic and atmospheric races on the calendar.
Using public roads around the Marina Bay area, the circuit utilises powerful lighting systems to replicate daylight conditions and the most stringent safety protocols ensure driver and spectator safety.
Grandstand seating and hospitality areas lining the track can accommodate more than 80,000 spectators, while a permanent pit area with deluxe paddock facilities is located adjacent to the Singapore Flyer complex.
When Friday 16 – Sunday 18 September, 2016
Where Singapore, Singapore
Malaysian Grand Prix - 02 Oct Malaysia: Sepang International Circuit
About this race
In the mid 1990s, Malaysia was undergoing a huge change and the country's leadership was determined that by 2020, the country would be a fully industrialised nation. As part of that vision, Malaysia wanted to create a circuit track that would be the envy of the world in terms of its facilities and technology. The Sepang International Circuit, made its debut in 1999 and it did not disappoint.
Designed by Hermann Tilke, Sepang is one of the most technical circuits in Formula One. The combination of long high-speed straights, and tight twisting complexes make the track very complicated, but also perfect for overtaking as the track itself is very wide. The drivers love it and, along with Malaysia's distinct atmosphere, it makes for an experience unique in Formula One.
When Friday 30 – Sunday 02 October, 2016
Where Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur
Japanese Grand Prix - 09 Oct Japan: Suzuka
About this race
One of the greatest tracks used in Formula One racing today, Japan's Suzuka circuit is a massive test of car and driver ability. Built by Honda as a test facility in 1962, the track was designed by Dutchman John Hugenholz, the Hermann Tilke of his day. A huge theme park was also constructed at the track, including the famous big wheel which dominates the Suzuka skyline.
Suzuka has provided the scene for many nail-biting end-of-season deciders, including the infamous collisions involving Alain Prost and Ayrton Senna.
Suzuka includes some of the F1 calendar's most challenging corners. Among the drivers' favourites are the high-speed 130R and the famous Spoon Curve. On top of this the circuit's figure-of-eight layout makes it unique in F1 racing.
When Friday 07 – Sunday 09 October, 2016
Where Japan, Suzuka
United States Grand Prix - 23 Oct United States: Circuit of The Americas
About this race
The Circuit of The Americas (COTA) is the first purpose-built F1 facility in the US designed for any and all classes of racing and was officially opened on October 21, 2012 by COTA ambassador and 1978 F1 world champion, Mario Andretti.
A 5.5-kilometre (3.4-mile) Grand Prix circuit, located in Wandering Creek, southeast of the Texan capital designed by Hermann Tilke in collaboration with American architectural firm HKS offers a 20-turn, anticlockwise track, and draws inspiration from the best circuits around the world, as well as taking advantage of the site's natural topography to include dramatic elevation changes of up to 40 metres.
When Friday 21 – Sunday 23 October, 2016
Where United States, Austin
Mexican Grand Prix - 30 Oct Mexico: Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez
About this race
The history of Mexico's Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez is interwoven with that of brothers Ricardo and Pedro Rodriguez. It was the former's emergence in 1961 that prompted the decision to build a 5-kilometre circuit in the public Magdalena Mixhuca park in the east of Mexico City. And it was the latter's success later that decade which helped build an incredibly fervent home support for the event.
Mexico would become the traditional end-of-season event in the late '60s until the early ‘70’s. It was not until 1986 that Formula One racing would return to Mexico City for another 6 years until 1992.
A return to the F1 calendar was sealed for 2015 after an injection of both private and government money. The facility will be upgraded, while the entire track will be resurfaced.
When Friday 28 – Sunday 30 October, 2016
Where Mexico, Mexico City
Brazilian Grand Prix - 13 Nov Brazil: Autodromo Jose Carlos Pace
About this race
Interlagos staged its first championship Grand Prix in 1973. The track became a lucky charm for local racers, Fittipaldi, Carlos Pace and Carlos Reutemann all taking the spoils of victory in the 1970s. Interlagos was the scene of Pace's first and only Formula One triumph, and following his death in a plane crash the circuit was renamed in his honour.
Ayrton Senna, a Sao Paulo local, the last Brazilian world champion, was the driver behind keeping the race at the city, and although there has not been a local champion since Senna's death, the passion of the Brazilian fans keeps the sport coming back every year.
When Friday 11 – Sunday 13 November, 2016
Where Brazil, São Paulo
Abu Dhabi Grand Prix - 27 Nov Abu Dhabi: Yas Marina Circuit
About this race
Located on the spectacular Yas Island, the Yas Marina Circuit, which in November 2009, hosted the country's inaugural Grand Prix and was the first F1 twighlight race.
Designed by renowned circuit architect Hermann Tilke, Yas Marina has a waterfront setting scenic enough to rival the likes of Monaco and Valencia and boasts top speeds of 320 km/h and average speeds of 195 km/h. It features nine right turns and 11 left turns and is one of the few venues on the calendar to run in an anti-clockwise direction. The high-speed sections (including the longest straight on the F1 calendar), tight corners for overtaking, and even a twisty street circuit-style sector come together to create one of the longest and most demanding tracks in the world, where close and competitive racing is guaranteed.
When Friday 25 – Sunday 27 November, 2016
Where Abu Dhabi, Yas Island
Round 20 of 21
Australian Grand Prix - 26 Mar Australia: Albert Park
About this race
When Formula One came to Australia in 1985 it set up home in Adelaide. Despite the popular end of season slot for the Adelaide race, pressure was growing from the Melbourne motor sport community, and in 1993 an agreement was reached with Formula One to host the Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne.
A track was developed in Melbourne's beautiful Albert Park, part of it using closed-off public roads, and in 1996 the city held the first round of the world championship. Since then the race has become very popular with drivers and fans alike, and the party atmosphere of Melbourne keeps them coming back year after year.
When Sunday 26 – Sunday 26 March, 2017
Where Australia, Melbourne
| i don't know |
Which writer created the character of 'Detective Chief Inspector Jane Tennyson'? | Detective Chief Inspector Jane Tennison - Police Detective
Detective Chief Inspector Jane Tennison
Jane Tennison is a character in the British police procedural television drama that was created by Lynda La Plante and broadcasted in 1990âs and 2000âs. Jane is a British Detective Chief Inspector in Metrolpolitan Police Division starring Helen Mirren in the role which was appreciated a lot by the viewers. The show clearly depicts that how a female manages to remain in the profession when it is highly dominated by males. The show also received Edgar Award in Best TV show category. The whole series focuses the role of a woman in Police Division and later she gets promoted as Detective Superintendent.
Prime Suspect
There are seven series of Prime Suspect and all the series are 100 and 200 min long. All the series shows the courage of detective Jane Tennison and how she investigates all the mysteries. She has four members in her team who help her in all the investigations. Prime Suspect is based on Police Procedural format and is created by Lynda La Plante. Lynda is a great writer and has a great record for writing several novels about investigations. There are seven series which are included with nine episodes. All the episodes are exceptionally interesting and retain the interest of the customer from starting to the end.
Series
The whole series was produced under the banner of Granada Television ITV productions. ITV productions have a reputed name in the world of fictional stories and characters. They have been released around 15 fictional characters and all the characters are published in the novels too. The whole series of Prime Suspect was run from 7th April 1991 to 22 October 2006. However, there are several breaks in the broadcasting of this serial but in the end they succeed in completing the series. This is the first series of this type in which a woman holds a very responsive position in Detective Agency.
The first part of Prime Suspect features sexism at workplace and the other parts are also based on this theme. The second part features the institutional racism and the third one features pedophilia, prostitution and child abuse. As there is a lady at the top position in large detective agency, Jane had to fight with her work life and relationships. She needs to maintain a perfect balance between her job and her private life. With the progression of series, she became alcoholic due to increased stress and tension but she soon get successful in tackling the alcohol addiction. The series of Prime Suspect are in multiple episodes and every part is included with 31/2 hours and was divided into three or four parts.
Three Cases
Prime Suspect 4 was exceptionally long and was divided into three cases in which every case was 41/2 hours long. Prime Suspect was aired in 1991 and was divided into two parts. Prime Suspect 2 was aired in 15th December 1992 and was 203 min long. Prime Suspect 3 was aired in 19th December and its length is 207 min. Prime Suspect 4 has three parts with different titles including Lost Child, Inner Circles and Scent of Darkness. So, this character or series is the successful interms of providing complete entertainment to the audience.
| Lynda La Plante |
What is the two-word alliterative name for the tree Salix babylonica? | Criminal Pursuits - latimes
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Criminal Pursuits
May 12, 1996 |MARGO KAUFMAN
I'm a fan of "Prime Suspect," the Emmy award-winning series created by Lynda La Plante, even though Detective Inspector Jane Tennyson, played by Helen Mirren, has no people skills and should be sentenced to three months of charm school. Amazingly, Tennyson is a social butterfly compared to Lorraine Page, the grim heroine of La Plante's riveting, if predictable, "Cold Shoulder."
Lieutenant Page has been kicked off the Pasadena police force for emptying six rounds into an innocent kid while drunk on duty. The author describes Page's subsequent downward spiral in such chilling detail that it functions like literary Antabuse: She loses her townhouse, her husband and her daughters, then she's hit by a car while attempting to turn tricks and sent to a rehabilitation center. There, she's befriended by Rosie Hurst--a gutsy recovering alcoholic--Kathy Bates, call your agent--who takes the ungrateful Page home. Almost immediately, Page is attacked by a serial killer, and her inevitable quest for her assailant leads her into a bleak nest of transvestite prostitutes (enough already with the cross-dressers) and ultimately to her salvation.
Elizabeth George is arguably the finest writer working in the mystery genre today, and "In the Presence of the Enemy" is marvelous, though extremely sinister. The 10-year-old out-of-wedlock daughter of Eve Bowen, an unfeeling, ultra-Conservative British politician, has been kidnapped. Her abductor threatens to kill her unless tabloid editor Dennis Luxford publicly admits to having fathered her. Luxford is willing, but Bowen fears the negative publicity will hurt her career. She won't call the police and only reluctantly solicits help. When the inevitable tragedy occurs, enter the fabulously rich and perpetually gloomy New Scotland Yard Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley and his desperately-in-need-of-a-glamour-makeover assistant, Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers. George's characters are so well drawn and neurotic that I wanted to give them the name of my therapist. Alas, the ending is a bit of a cheat.
It's a safe bet that racing fans will enjoy the action-packed "Dark Horse," by Bill Shoemaker, the most successful jockey in history. Disgraced jockey- restaurant owner Coley Killebrew attempts to unravel an intricate puzzle involving prize racehorses (naturally), Colombian drug czars, the CIA, a presidential candidate and the gorgeous Lea Starbuck, Killebrew's kidnapped fiancee. The vivid descriptions of the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes are enthralling, but more delightful are the sly descriptions of everyday objects such as "a microwave that could do anything but balance your checkbook."
Sophie Dunbar's "A Bad Hair Day" is an energetic, sensuous romp that is particularly refreshing given the large number of literary detectives in need of Prozac. When she's not ravishing or being ravished by her husband, New Orleans hairdresser Claire Claireborne attempts to untangle who's behind the gruesome but obscenely clever murder of two of her colleagues. The characters are singular and delectable, and Dunbar's depiction of New Orleans and the beauty business are so tantalizing I couldn't decide if I wanted to buy a plane ticket or run out and get my hair cut.
Move over Mary Higgins Clark. Joyce Burditt, writer-producer for television mysteries like "Perry Mason," "Matlock" and "The Father Dowling Mysteries" has added a dollop of whodunit to the classic Hollywood novel and come up with "Buck Naked," a page turner. Licensed sleuth and self described "not-so-tough cookie" Demeter "Dutch" O'Brien is recovering from a broken heart, substance abuse, a dysfunctional relationship with her mother, an over-the-top Beverly Hills shrink and God knows what else. She takes a job as script advisor on a popular television series "Stone, Private Eye." By the end of her first week, Buck, the pseudo-folksy aging star, makes a pass at her; Amy, the troublesome ingenue is murdered and her severed head is delivered to Dutch in a floral hatbox with a warning that she's next. I guessed the killer early on, but the backstage at the studio scenes were divine. Great for a long plane trip.
****
| i don't know |
In which English city are the Guru Nanak Sikh Museum and the National Space Centre? | City Walk: Museums and Galleries Tour of Leicester, Leicester, England
Museums and Galleries Tour of Leicester, Leicester
Image Courtesy of Wikimedia and NotFromUtrecht
This self-guided walking tour is included in the iOS app " GPSmyCity: Walks and Articles with Offline Maps " on iTunes App Store and the Android app " Leicester Map and Walks " on Google Play.
Leicester is the industrial center of the Midlands and has a rich heritage. A number of museums and galleries offer visitors a fascinating look into the history, culture and development of Leicester. Some venues are free of charge and are sponsored by the local government. Take this tour to enjoy Leicester's most notable museums and galleries.
Museums and Galleries Tour of Leicester - Route Map
Guide Name: Museums and Galleries Tour of Leicester
Guide Type: Self-guided Walking Tour (Sightseeing)
# of Attractions: 9
Author: Ella
1) Jewry Wall Museum
The Jewry Wall is believed to be the remaining wall of the public baths of Roman Leicester along with foundations of the baths, which are laid out in front of the wall. The wall is nearly 2,000 years old and is a rare example of Roman walling. It is the second largest piece of surviving civil Roman building in Britain. The Jewry Wall would have been the wall separating the gymnasium from the cold room. The remains of the baths were excavated in the 1930s by Dame Kathleen Kenyon and date from... view more
Image Courtesy of Wikimedia and NotFromUtrecht
Sight description based on wikipedia
2) Guru Nanak Sikh Museum
While in Leicester, don’t miss the chance to visit Guru Nanak Sikh Museum, a very unusual museum devoted to Sikhism and the Guru Nanak. There are a number of exhibits relating to Sikhism, which include manuscripts, pictures and other artifacts. In addition to serving as a museum, this building is used as an active Sikh temple. If you do decide to visit the temple, don't forget to leave your shoes outside and to cover your head if you are a... view more
Image Courtesy of Flickr and harminder dhesi photography
3) The Guildhall
The Guildhall in Leicester is a Grade I listed timber framed building, with the earliest part dating from circa 1390. The Guildhall once acted as the town hall for the city until the current one was commissioned in 1876. Although some parts are earlier, the majority of the building dates from the 15th century. It is located in the old walled city, on a street now known as Guildhall Lane. It was used first as the meeting place for the Guild of Corpus Christi and then later for the more formal... view more
Image Courtesy of Flickr and stevecadman
Sight description based on wikipedia
4) Leicester Royal Infirmary Museum
The Leicester Royal Infirmary (LRI) is a large National Health Service hospital in Leicester. It is located to the south-west of the city centre. The hospital was originally founded in 1771 by Reverend William Watts, hosting 40 beds. Patients were forced to pay a deposit when they went in; if they went home, the money was repaid back, if they died their deposit would be spent on burying them.
When first opened, there was no running water, but there was of course the nearby brewery, which was... view more
Image Courtesy of Flickr and here8now
Sight description based on wikipedia
5) New Walk Museum and Art Gallery
The New Walk Museum and Art Gallery is a museum on New Walk not far from the city center. Two dinosaur skeletons are permanently installed in the museum — a cetiosaur found in Rutland (affectionately named George) and a plesiosaur from Barrow upon Soar. Other permanent exhibits include an Egyptian area, minerals of Leicestershire and a wild space area featuring stuffed animals from around the world. On the first floor of the museum is an exhibition area that changes periodically. Recent... view more
Image Courtesy of Flickr and Fiery Fred
Sight description based on wikipedia
6) Leicester Print Workshop
Leicester is famous for having the best printing products in the country. Visit the Print Workshop of Leicester to learn about different stages of the printing process and the development of the printing industry. There are open lectures, master classes, and printmaking courses organized by the Leicester Print Workshop, which provide excellent opportunities to learn more about this... view more
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7) Charles Moore Collection
Charles Moore is famous for its collection of musical instruments. Located at the University of Leicester, you can see an amazing variety of instruments dating back to the 18th and 19th century, especially woodwind and brass instruments. There is also a section dedicated to historical musical... view more
Image Courtesy of Wikimedia and Yasuhiko Sano
8) National Gas Museum
The Gas Museum is situated in the former gatehouse of a gasworks in Leicester and deals with the history of domestic and industrial gas supply. It is claimed to be "the biggest collection of gas and gas related artefacts in the world". The building is a Grade II listed building, dating from 1878, with a clock tower. The public museum is on two floors, with over 4000 items in storage. It was opened April 29th 1977, then called the John Doran Museum. Displays include accounts of the... view more
Image Courtesy of Wikimedia and NotFromUtrecht
Sight description based on wikipedia
9) Leicestershire County Cricket Club Museum
All cricket fans must visit the Leicester County Cricket Club Museum to learn more about the traditions and history of this sport. The museum is situated on the Leicester cricket grounds and has an especially interesting exhibit on 'Discovering Cricket at Grace Road'. Here you’ll find artifacts related to the development of cricket and the influence of the sport on the... view more
Image Courtesy of Wikimedia and Matthew Bowden
The Most Popular Cities
| Leicester |
The name of which chemical element is derived from the Greek for acid + producer? | Holiday Inn Leicester City, Leicester, - Hotel Accommodation
Holiday Inn Leicester City
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Conveniently located in the heart of the city centre but only minutes away from the M1/M69 motorways. Close to the Shires Shopping Centre, De Montfort Hall, National Space Centre as well as the cities football, rugby and cricket clubs. Holiday Inn Leicester is the ideal location from which to enjoy all the attractions Leicester has to offer. Onsite leisure facilities include indoor swimming pool, sauna, Jacuzzi, steam room and gym.
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| i don't know |
Which sport is played by the Reading Thwackers and the Swindon Mallets in the Jasper Fforde book ‘Something Rotten’? | Crikey, it's croquet - Telegraph
Crikey, it's croquet
12:01AM BST 05 Jul 2008
Max Davidson on the many faces of a game with an identity crisis
'Vicious?" says Liz Larsson, manager of the Croquet Association. "No, no, no. That's a very old-fashioned perception. Croquet isn't like that at all. It's a very challenging game that requires skill and tactics. A bit like chess or bridge." Chess? Bridge? She must be talking about a different game than the one I remember playing as a student at Oxford. The rules were impenetrable, the atmosphere sulphurous. If I shut my eyes, I can still see a burly theology student called Marcus thwacking my ball into the long grass, licking his chops with relish, while his partner brayed his approval. It was like war by other means.
The setting was Elysian, a microcosm of England in summer. An immaculately mown lawn under a spreading beech tree. A jug of Pimm's on a table. A few female hangers-on in crisp white blouses. A golden retriever asleep on the grass. But, on the croquet court itself, the scope for casual malice - sadistically waiting until the optimum moment to do the most damage to the other player - seemed limitless. It made boxing seem humane.
But then croquet, that most English of games, despite its French name, has always had something of an identity crisis. In Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll turned it into a delectable nonsense, with hedgehogs for balls and flamingos for mallets.
A contemporary satirist, Jasper Fforde, has seen its darker possibilities, re-inventing croquet as a brutal mass spectator sport, contested by teams such as the Swindon Mallets and the Reading Thwackers.
And who is to say which caricature best captures the essence of croquet?
The players may look like gentlemen, dressed in white. But in their hands they have blunt wooden instruments capable of killing. Small wonder that, even when the game has been played on vicarage lawns, it has had such an incendiary effect on those taking part.
Since its introduction from Ireland in the 19th century, the game has vacillated between being a proper competitive sport, with tournaments and governing bodies and a panoply of arcane rules, and a post-prandial lark for the upper classes, the ultimate in country house frivolity.
In 2006, when John Prescott was photographed playing croquet at Dorneywood, his official residence, the media gleefully lampooned the Deputy Prime Minister as a class traitor, betraying his working-class roots. The public at large seems to have taken a less censorious view. In fact, sales of croquet sets rocketed in the wake of that episode. It was almost as if a game that had languished in the shadows - felt to be exclusive because it was so damned odd - had unexpectedly been given a new lease of life.
"Croquet is certainly more of a middle-class sport than football," concedes Liz Larsson. "But it attracts a wider spectrum of people than you might think. There are a lot of retired people, inevitably, but also younger people, from teachers to IT consultants. There are more than a hundred clubs in Britain and umpteen tournaments which people can enter. Another plus, of course, is that men and women compete on equal terms. They are not segregated, as they are in tennis and golf." The headquarters of the Croquet Association are in Cheltenham - where else? - and from tomorrow they play host to the British Open Croquet Championships, an event contested with a skill and tactical acumen at which amateur mallet-wielders can only marvel.
There will be no television coverage, which is a shame. Croquet had its chance to make the sporting big time at the 1900 Olympics in Paris and blew it in spectacular fashion: only one paying spectator turned up, and the sport was rapidly dropped. But for the few spectators expected at the Championships - "between 70 and 80", estimates Larsson - there should be no shortage of entertainment, albeit of the cerebral kind.
Croquet has often been likened to "snooker on grass": the successful player has to think about not just his current shot, but the one after that and the one after that. But the "viciousness" popularly associated with amateur croquet - arising from the fact that you can hit your opponent's ball as well as your own - is less in evidence in top-flight croquet. It's just not tactically smart to hit your opponent's ball into the shrubbery. Apart from anything else, there is no shrubbery, just a neatly marked-out court.
In a funny way, it is the perfect sport for the age, which may explain why croquet is enjoying a modest revival. Tactically, it is incredibly complex - far more so than pool, say, or tennis. To the generation weaned on abstruse computer games, it offers an authentic technical challenge, with fresh air thrown in. But it is the dog-eat-dog aspect of croquet that marks it down as a suitable pastime for the 21st century.
Getting to the winning post first, while snookering, outwitting and elbowing aside your rivals… it is the same formula that has worked, time and again, in reality television.
Lawn law
Want to bluff your way in croquet? A few key terms to remember:
A bisque is a free turn. Bisques are allocated to players on the same basis as handicap strokes in golf.
A roquet is achieved when you hit your opponent's ball, winning yourself an extra shot or croquet. It's complicated, but at least it rhymes.
To peel is to send a ball other than the striker's ball through the target hoop.
Golf croquet is a simpler version of lawn or association croquet, and ideal for beginners.
A Prescott is a player of working-class origins who has successfully infiltrated this most middle-class of games.
| Croquet |
Which sitcom of the 1980s featured characters Spike Dixon, Peggy Ollerenshaw and Ted Bovis? | Jasper Fforde – [TN03] Well of Lost Plots
The Well of Lost Plots
Jasper Fforde
For Mari Who makes the torches burn brighter
A wise man wants for only nourishing cabbage soup; seek not other things. Except perhaps a toaster.
– from the teachings of St Zvlkx™
the wisdom of St Zvlkx™ is wholly owned by
the Toast Marketing Board
Thursday Next: the story so far …
Swindon, Wessex, England, circa 1985. SpecOps is the agency responsible for policing areas considered too specialised to be tackled by the regular force, and Thursday Next is attached to the literary detectives at SpecOps 27. Following the successful return of Jane Eyre to the novel of the same name, vanquishing master criminal Acheron Hades and bringing peace to the Crimean peninsula, she finds herself a minor celebrity.
On the trail of the seemingly miraculous discovery of the lost Shakespeare play Cardenio, she crosses swords with Yorrick Kaine, escapee from fiction and neo-fascist politician. She also finds herself blackmailed by the vast multinational known as the Goliath Corporation, who want their operative Jack Schitt out of Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven' in which he was imprisoned. To achieve this they call on Lavoisier, a corrupt member of the time-travelling SpecOps elite, the ChronoGuard, to kill off Thursday's husband. Travelling back thirty-eight years, Lavoisier engineers a fatal accident for the two-year-old Landen, but leaves Thursday's memories of him intact – she finds herself the only person who knows he once lived.
In an attempt to rescue her eradicated husband, she finds a way to enter fiction itself – and discovers that not only is there a policing agency within the BookWorld known as Jurisfiction, but that she has been apprenticed as a trainee agent to Miss Havisham of Great Expectations. With her skills at bookjumping growing under Miss Havisham's stern and often unorthodox tuition, Thursday rescues Jack Schitt, only to discover she has been duped. Goliath have no intention of reactualising her husband, and instead want her to open a door into fiction, something Goliath has decided is a 'rich untapped marketplace' for their varied but ultimately worthless products and services.
Thursday, pregnant with Landen's child and pursued by Goliath and Acheron's little sister Aornis, an evil genius with a penchant for clothes shopping and memory modification, decides to enter the BookWorld and retire temporarily to the place where all fiction is created: the Well of Lost Plots. Taking refuge in an unpublished book of dubious quality as part of the Character Exchange Programme, she thinks she will have a quiet time.
Acknowledgements
Extract from Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh (copyright © Evelyn Waugh 1945) by permission of Peters, Fraser and Dunlop on behalf of the Evelyn Waugh Trust and the Estate of Laura Waugh.
Reference to the Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling (copyright © The National Trust for Places of Historic Interest or Natural Beauty) by kind permission of A. P. Watt Ltd.
References to Shadow the Sheepdog by Enid Blyton by kind permission of Enid Blyton Limited and with thanks to Chorion pic.
Frederick Warne & Co. is the owner of all rights, copyrights and trademarks in the Beatrix Potter character names and illustrations.
Extract from Tiger Tiger (copyright © Alfred Bester 1955) by kind permission of the Estate of Alfred Bester and The Sayle Literary Agency.
Contents
34. Loose ends
This book has been bundled with Special Features including: the 'making of' wordamentary, deleted scenes from all three books, out-takes and much more. To access all these free bonus features, log on to: www.jasperfforde.com/specialfeatures.html and enter the code word as directed.
I
The absence of breakfast
'The Well of Lost Plots: To understand the Well you have to have an idea of the layout of the Great Library. The library is where all published fiction is stored so it can be read by the readers in the Outland; there are twenty-six floors, one for each letter of the alphabet. The library is constructed in the layout of a cross with the four corridors radiating from the centre point. On all the walls, end after end, shelf after shelf, are books. Hundreds, thousands, millions of books. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather-bound, everything. But beneath the Great Library are twenty-six floors of dingy yet industrious sub-basements known as the Well of Lost Plots. This is where books are constructed, honed and polished in readiness for a place in the library above. But the similarity of all these books to the copies we read back home is no more than the similarity a photograph has to its subject; these books are alive.'
THURSDAY NEXT – The Jurisfiction Chronicles
Making one's home in an unpublished novel wasn't without its compensations. All the boring day-to-day mundanities that we conduct in the real world get in the way of narrative flow and are thus generally avoided. The car didn't need refuelling, there were never any wrong numbers, there was always enough hot water, and vacuum-cleaner bags came in only two sizes – upright and pull-along. There were other, more subtle differences, too. For instance, no one ever needed to repeat themselves in case you didn't hear, no one shared the same name, talked at the same time or had a word annoyingly 'on the tip of their tongue'. Best of all, the bad guy was always someone you knew of and – Chaucer aside – there wasn't much farting. But there were some downsides. The relative absence of breakfast was the first and most notable difference to my daily timetable. Inside books, dinners are often written about and therefore feature frequently, as do lunches and afternoon tea; probably because they offer more opportunities to further the story. Breakfast wasn't all that was missing. There was a peculiar lack of cinemas, wallpaper, toilets, colours, books, animals, underwear, smells, haircuts and, strangely enough, minor illnesses. If someone was ill in a book it was either terminal and dramatically unpleasant or a mild head cold – there wasn't much in between.
I was able to take up residence inside fiction by virtue of a scheme entitled the Character Exchange Programme. Owing to a spate of bored and disgruntled bookpeople escaping from their novels and becoming what we called 'PageRunners', the authorities set up the scheme to allow characters a change of scenery. In any year there are close to ten thousand exchanges, few of which result in any major plot or dialogue infringements – the reader rarely suspects anything at all. Since I was from the real world and not actually a character at all, the Bellman and Miss Havisham had agreed to let me live inside the BookWorld in exchange for helping out at Jurisfiction – at least as long as my pregnancy would allow.
The choice of book for my self-enforced exile had not been arbitrary; when Miss Havisham asked me in which novel I would care to reside I had thought long and hard. Robinson Crusoe would have been ideal considering the climate but there was no one female to exchange with. I could have gone to Pride and Prejudice but I wasn't wild about high collars, bonnets, corsets – and delicate manners. No, to avoid any complications and reduce the possibility of having to move, I had decided to make my home in a book of such dubious and uneven quality that publication and my subsequent enforced ejection were unlikely in the extreme. I found just such a book deep within the Well of Lost Plots among failed attempts at prose and half-finished epics of such dazzling ineptness that they would never see the light of day. The book was a dreary crime thriller set in Reading entitled Caversham Heights. I had planned to stay there for only a year but it didn't work out that way. Plans with me are like De Floss novels – try as you might, you never know quite how they are going to turn out.
I read my way into Caversham Heights. The air felt warm after the wintry conditions back home and I found myself standing on a wooden jetty at the edge of a lake. In front of me there was a large and seemingly derelict flying boat of the sort that still plied the coastal routes back home. I had flown on one myself not six months before on the trail of someone claiming to have found some unpublished Burns poetry. But that was another lifetime ago, when I was with SpecOps in Swindon, the world I had temporarily left behind.
I donned a pair of dark glasses and stared at the ancient flying boat, which rocked gently in the breeze, tautening the mooring ropes and creaking gently. As I watched the old aircraft, wondering just how long something this decrepit could stay afloat, a well-dressed young woman stepped out of an oval-shaped door in the high-sided hull. She was carrying a suitcase. I had read Caversham Heights so I knew Mary well, although she didn't know me.
'Hello!' she shouted, trotting up and offering me a hand. 'I'm Mary. You must be Thursday. My goodness! What's that?'
'A dodo. Her name's Pickwick.'
Pickwick plocked and stared at Mary suspiciously.
'Really?' she replied, looking at the bird curiously. 'I'm no expert, of course, but … I thought dodos were extinct.'
'Where I come from they're a bit of a pest.'
'Oh?' mused Mary. 'I'm not sure I've heard of a book with live dodos in it.'
'I'm not a bookperson,' I told her, 'I'm real.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Mary, opening her eyes wide. 'An Outlander.'
She touched me inquisitively with a slender index finger, as though I might be made of glass.
'I've never seen someone from the other side before,' she announced, clearly relieved to find that I wasn't going to shatter into a thousand pieces. 'Tell me, is it true you have to cut your hair on a regular basis? I mean, your hair actually grows?
'Yes.' I smiled. 'And my fingernails, too.'
'Really?' Mary reflected. 'I've heard rumours about that but I thought it was just one of those Outlandish legends. I suppose you have to eat, too? To stay alive, I mean, not just when the story calls for it?'
'One of the great pleasures of life,' I assured her.
I didn't think I'd tell her about the real-world downsides such as tooth decay, incontinence or old age. Mary lived in a three-year window and neither aged, died, married, had children, got sick nor changed in any way. Although appearing resolute and strong minded she was only like this because she was written that way. For all her qualities, Mary was simply a foil to Jack Spratt, the detective in Caversham Heights, the loyal sergeant figure to whom Jack explained things so the readers knew what was going on. She was what writers called an expositional, but I'd never be as impolite as to say so to her face.
'Is this where I'm going to live?'
I was pointing at the shabby flying boat.
'I know what you're thinking.' Mary smiled proudly. 'Isn't she just the most beautiful thing ever? She's a Sunderland; built in 1943 but last flew in '68. I'm midway through converting her to a houseboat, but don't feel shy if you want to help out. Just keep the bilges pumped out, and if you can run the number-three engine once a month I'd be very grateful – the start-up checklist is on the flight deck.'
'Well – okay,' I muttered.
'Good. I've left a précis of the story taped to the fridge and a rough idea of what you have to say, but don't worry about being word perfect; since we're not published you can say almost anything you want – within reason, of course.'
'Of course.'
I thought for a moment.
'I'm new to the Character Exchange Programme,' I said. 'When will I be called to do something?'
'Wyatt is the inbook exchange liaison officer; he'll let you know. Jack might seem gruff to begin with,' continued Mary, 'but he has a heart of gold. If he asks you to drive his Allegro, make sure you depress the clutch fully before changing gear. He takes his coffee black and the love interest between myself and DC Baker is strictly unrequited, is that clear?'
'Very clear,' I returned, thankful I would not have to do any love scenes.
'Good. Did they supply you with all the necessary paperwork, IDs, that sort of thing?'
I patted my pocket and she handed me a scrap of paper and a bunch of keys.
'Good. This is my footnoterphone number in case of emergencies, these are the keys to the flying boat and my BMW. If a loser named Arnold calls, tell him I hope he rots in hell. Any questions?'
'I don't think so.'
She smiled.
'Then we're done. You'll like it here. I'll see you in about a year. So long!'
She gave a cheery wave and walked off up the dusty track. I watched until she was out of sight then sat upon a rickety wooden seat next to a long-dead tub of flowers. I let Pickwick out of her bag. She ruffled her feathers indignantly and blinked in the sunlight. I looked across the lake at the sailing dinghies, which were little more than brightly coloured triangles that tacked backwards and forwards in the distance. Nearer to shore a pair of swans beat their wings furiously and pedalled the water in an attempt to take off, landing almost as soon as they were airborne, and throwing up a long streak of spray on the calm waters. It seemed a lot of effort to go a few hundred yards.
I turned my attention to the flying boat. The layers of paint that covered and protected the riveted hull had partly peeled off, to reveal the colourful livery of long-forgotten airlines. The perspex windows had clouded with age, and high in the massive wing untidy cables hung lazily from the oil-stained cowlings of the three empty engine bays, their safe inaccessibility now a haven for nesting birds. Goliath, Aornis and SpecOps seemed a million miles away – but then, so did Landen. Landen. Memories of my husband were never far away. I thought of all the times we had spent together that hadn't actually happened. All the places we hadn't visited, all the things we hadn't done. He may have been eradicated at the age of two, but I still had our memories – just no one to share them with.
I was interrupted in my thoughts by the sound of a motorcycle approaching. The rider didn't have much control of the vehicle; I was glad that he stopped short of the jetty – his erratic riding may well have led him straight into the lake.
'Hello!' he said cheerfully, removing his helmet to reveal a youngish man with a dark Mediterranean complexion and deep sunken eyes. 'My name's Arnold. I haven't seen you around here before, have I?'
I got up and shook his hand.
'The name's Next. Thursday Next. Character Exchange Programme.'
'Oh, blast!' he muttered. 'Blast and double blast! I suppose that means I've missed her?'
I nodded and he stared up the road, shaking his head sadly.
'Did she leave a message for me?'
'Y-es,' I said uncertainly, 'she said she would – um – see you when she gets back.'
'She did?' replied Arnold, brightening up. 'That's a good sign. Normally she calls me a loser and tells me to go rot in hell.'
'She probably won't be back for a while,' I added, trying to make up for not passing on Mary's message properly, 'maybe a year – maybe more.'
'I see,' he murmured, sighing deeply and staring off across the lake. He caught sight of Pickwick, who was attempting to out-stare a strange aquatic bird with a rounded bill.
'What's that?' he asked suddenly.
'I think it's a duck although I can't be sure – we don't have any where I come from.'
'No, the other thing.'
'What's the matter?' asked Arnold.
I was getting a footnoterphone signal; in the BookWorld people generally communicated like this.
'A footnoterphone call,' I replied, 'but it's not a message – it's like the wireless back home.' 2
Arnold stared at me.
'You're not from around here, are you?'
'I'm from what you call the Outland 3
He opened his eyes wide.
'You mean … you're real?
'I'm afraid so,' I replied, slightly bemused.
'Goodness! Is it true that Outlanders can't say "Red-Buick-Blue-Buick" many times quickly?'
'It's true. We call it a tongue-twister.'
'Fascinating!' he replied. 'There's nothing like that here, you know. I can say: "The sixth sheikh's sixth sheep's sick" over and over as many times as I want!'
And he did, three times.
'Now you try.'
I took a deep breath.
'The sixth spleeps sics sleeks sick.'
Arnold laughed like a drain. I don't think he'd come across anything quite so funny in his life. I smiled.
'Do it again!' he urged.
'No thanks. 4 How do I stop this footnoterphone blabbering inside my skull?'
'Just think "off" very strongly.'
I did, and the footnoterphone stopped.
'Better?'
I nodded.
'You'll get the hang of it.'
He thought for a minute, looked up and down the lake in an overtly innocent manner, and then said:
'Do you want to buy some verbs? Not any of your rubbish, either. Good, strong, healthy regulars – straight from the Text Sea – I have a friend on a scrawltrawler.'
I smiled.
'I don't think so, Arnold – and I don't think you should ask me – I'm Jurisfiction.'
'Oh,' said Arnold, looking pale all of a sudden. He bit his lip and gave such an imploring look that I almost laughed.
'Don't sweat,' I told him, 'I won't report it.'
He sighed a deep sigh of relief, muttered his thanks, remounted his motorbike and drove off in a jerky fashion, narrowly missing the mail boxes at the top of the track.
The interior of the flying boat was lighter and more airy than I had imagined but it smelt a bit musty. Mary was mistaken; she had not been halfway through the craft's conversion – it was more like one tenth. The walls were half panelled with pine tongue-and-groove, and rock wool insulation stuck out untidily along with unused electrical cables. There was room for two floors within the boat's cavernous hull, the downstairs a large open-plan living room with a couple of old sofas pointing towards a television set. I tried to switch it on but it was dead – there was no TV in the BookWorld unless called for in the narrative. Much of what I could see around me was merely props, necessary for the chapter in which Jack Spratt visits the Sunderland to discuss the case. On the mantelpiece above a small wood-burning stove were pictures of Mary from her days at the police training college, and another from when she was promoted to detective sergeant.
I opened a door that led into a small kitchenette. Attached to the fridge was the précis of Caversham Heights. I flicked through it. The sequence of events was pretty much as I remembered from my first reading in the Well, although it seemed that Mary had overstated her role in some of the puzzle-solving areas. I put the précis down, found a bowl and filled it with water for Pickwick, took her egg from my bag and laid it on the sofa, where she quickly set about turning it over and tapping it gently with her beak. I went forward and discovered a bedroom where the nose turret would have been, and climbed a narrow aluminium ladder to the flight deck directly above. This was the best view in the house, the large greenhouse-like perspex windows affording a good view of the lake. The massive control wheels were set in front of two comfortable chairs, and facing them and ahead of a tangled mass of engine control levers was a complex panel of broken and faded instruments. To my right I could see the one remaining engine looking forlorn, the propeller blades streaked with bird droppings.
Behind the pilots' seats, where the flight engineer would have sat, there was a desk with reading lamp, footnoterphone and typewriter. On the bookshelf were mainly magazines of a police nature and lots of forensic textbooks. I walked through a narrow doorway and found a pleasant bedroom. The headroom was not over-generous but it was cosy and dry and was panelled in pine with a porthole above the double bed. Behind the bedroom was a storeroom, a hot-water boiler, stacks of wood and a spiral staircase. I was just about to go downstairs when I heard someone speak from the living room below.
'What do you think that is?'
The voice had an empty ring to it and was neuter in its inflection – I couldn't tell whether it was male or female.
I stopped and instinctively pulled my automatic from my shoulder holster. Mary lived alone – or so it had said in the book. As I moved slowly downstairs I heard another voice answer the first:
'I think it's a bird of some sort.'
The second voice was no more distinctive than the first; indeed, if the second voice had not been answering the first, I might have thought they belonged to the same person.
As I descended the staircase I saw two figures standing in the middle of the room staring at Pickwick, who stared back, courageously protecting her egg from behind the sofa.
'Hey!' I said, pointing my gun in their direction. 'Hold it right there!'
The two figures looked up and stared at me without expression from features that were as insipid and muted as their voices. Because of their equal blandness it was impossible to tell them apart. Their arms hung limply by their sides, exhibiting no body language. They might have been angry, or curious, or worried, or elated – but I couldn't tell.
'Who are you?' I asked.
'We are nobody,' replied the one on the left.
'Everyone is someone,' I replied.
'Not altogether correct,' said the one on the right. 'We have a code number but nothing more. I am TSI-I4O49I2-A and this is TSI-I4049I2-C.'
'What happened to -B?'
'Taken by a grammasite last Tuesday.'
I lowered my gun. Miss Havisham had told me about Generics. They were created here in the Well to populate the books that were to be written. At the point of creation they were simply a human canvas without paint – blank like a coin, ready to be stamped with individualism. They had no history, no conflicts, no foibles – nothing that might make them either readable or interesting in any way. It was up to various institutions to teach them to be useful members of fiction. They were graded, too. A to D, one through ten. Any that were D-graded were like worker bees in crowds and busy streets. Small speaking parts were C-grades; B-grades usually made up the bulk of featured but not leading characters. These parts usually – but not always – went to the A-grades, hand picked for their skills at character projection and multi-dimensionality. Huckleberry Finn, Tess and Anna Karenina were all A-grades, but then so were Mr Hyde, Hannibal Lecter and Professor Moriarty. I looked at the ungraded Generics again. Murderers or heroes? It was impossible to tell how they would turn out. Still, at this stage of their development they would be harmless. I reholstered my automatic.
'You're Generics, right?'
'Indeed,' they said in unison.
'What are you doing here?'
'You remember the craze for minimalism?' asked the one on the right.
'Yes?' I replied, moving closer to stare at their blank faces curiously. There was a lot about the Well that I was going to have to get used to. They were harmless enough – but decidedly creepy. Pickwick was still hiding behind the sofa.
'It was caused by the 1982 character shortage,' said the one on the left. 'Vikram Seth is planning a large book in the next few years and I don't think the Well wants to be caught out again – we're being manufactured and then sent to stay in unpublished novels until we are called into service.'
'Sort of stockpiled, you mean?'
'I'd prefer the word billeted,' replied the one on the left, the slight indignation indicating that it wouldn't be without a personality for ever.
'How long have you been here?'
'Two months,' replied the one on the right. 'We are awaiting placement at St Tabularasa's Generic College for basic character training. I live in the spare bedroom in the tail.'
'So do I,' added the one on the left. 'Likewise.'
I paused for a moment.
'O-kay,' I began. 'Since we all have to live together I had better give you names. You,' I said, pointing a finger at the one on the right, are henceforth called ibb. You,' I added, pointing to the other, 'are now called obb.'
I pointed at them again in case they missed it as they made no sign of either comprehending what I'd said or even hearing it.
'You are ibb, and you are obb.'
I paused. Something didn't sound right about their names but I couldn't place it.
'ibb,' I said to myself, then: 'obb. ibb. ibb-obb. Does that sound odd to you?'
'No capitals,' said obb. 'We don't get capitalised until we start school – we didn't expect names so soon, either. Can we keep them?'
'A gift from me,' I told them.
'I am ibb,' said the other one, as if to make the point.
'And I am obb,' said obb.
'And I'm Thursday,' I told them, offering my hand. They shook it in turn slowly and without emotion. I could see that this pair weren't going to be a huge bundle of fun.
'And that's Pickwick.'
They looked at Pickwick, who plocked quietly, came out from behind the sofa, settled herself on her egg and pretended to go to sleep.
'Well,' I announced, clapping my hands together, 'does anyone know how to cook? I'm not very good at it and if you don't want to eat beans on toast for the next year, you had better start to learn. I'm standing in for Mary, and if you don't get in my way I won't get in yours. I go to bed late and wake up early. I have a husband who doesn't exist and I'm going to have a baby later this year so might get a little cranky – and overweight. Any questions?'
'Yes,' said the one on the left. 'Which one of us is obb, did you say?'
I unpacked my few things in the small room behind the flight deck. I had sketched a picture of Landen from memory and I placed it on the bedside table, staring at it for a moment. I missed him dreadfully and wondered, for the umpteenth time, whether perhaps I shouldn't be here hiding, but out there, in my own world, trying to get him back. Trouble was, I'd tried that and made a complete pig's ear of it – if it hadn't have been for Miss Havisham's timely rescue I would still be locked up in a Goliath vault somewhere. With our child growing within me I had decided that flight was not a coward's option but a sensible one – I would stay here until the baby was born. I could then plan my return, and following that, Landen's.
I went downstairs and explained to obb the rudiments of cooking, which were as alien to it as having a name. Fortunately I found an old copy of Mrs Beeton's Complete Housekeeper, which I told obb to study, half jokingly, as research. Three hours later it had roasted a perfect leg of lamb with all the trimmings. I had discovered one thing about Generics already: dull and uninteresting they may be – but they learn fast.
2
Inside Caversham Heights
'Book/YGIO/1204961/: Title: Caversham Heights. UK, 1976, 90,000 words. Genre: Detective Fiction. Book Operating System: BOOK V7.2. Grammasite infestation: 1 (one) nesting pair of Parenthiums (protected). Plot: Routine detective thriller with stereotypical detective Jack Spratt. Set in Reading (England), the plot (such as it is) revolves around a drugs czar hoping to muscle in on Reading's seedy underworld. Routine and unremarkable, Caversham Heights represents all the worst aspects of amateur writing. Flat characters, unconvincing police work and a pace so slow that snails pass it in the night. Recommendation: Unpublishable. Suggest book be broken up for salvage at soonest available opportunity. Current status: Awaiting Council of Genre's Book Inspectorate's report before ordering demolition.'
Library Sub-Basement Gazetteer 1982, Volume CLXI
I explained the rudiments of breakfast to ibb and obb the following morning. I told them that cereal traditionally came before the bacon and eggs but that toast and coffee had no fixed place within the meal; they had problems with the fact that marmalade was almost exclusively the preserve of breakfast and I was just trying to explain the technical possibilities of dippy egg fingers when a copy of The Toad dropped on the mat. The only news story was about some sort of drug-related gang warfare in Reading. It was part of the plot in Caversham Heights and reminded me that sooner or later – and quite possibly sooner – I would be expected to take on the mantle of Mary as part of the Character Exchange Programme. I had another careful read of the précis, which gave me a good idea of the plot chapter by chapter, but no precise dialogue or indication as to what I should be doing, or when. I didn't have to wonder very long as a knock at the door revealed a very agitated man holding a clipboard.
'Miss Next?'
'No, not Watt, Wyatt – W-Y-A-T-T.'
'What can I do for you?'
'You can get your arse into Reading, that's what you can do.'
'Steady on—'
'I don't know why people in the Character Exchange Programme think they can treat it like a holiday,' he added, clearly annoyed. 'Just because we've had a demolition order hanging over us for the past ten years, you think you can all muck about.'
'I assure you I thought no such thing,' I replied, attempting to pacify the minor character who had taken it upon himself to keep me in check. From my reading of the book I knew that he featured as nothing more than a voice on the end of a telephone.
'I'll be on to it straight away,' I told him, fetching my coat and heading for Mary's car. 'Do you have an address for me?'
He handed over a scrap of paper and reminded me I was late.
'And no ad-libbing,' he added as an afterthought. I promised I wouldn't and trotted up the lane towards Mary's car.
I drove off slowly into Reading, across the M4, which seemed as busy as it was back home; I used the same road myself when travelling between Swindon and London. It was only when I was approaching the junction at the top of Burghfield Road that I realised there were, at most, only a half-dozen or so different vehicles on the roads. The vehicle that first drew my attention to this strange phenomenon was a large white truck with Dr Spongg's Footcare Products painted on the side. I saw three in under a minute, all with an identical driver dressed in a blue boiler suit and flat cap. The next most obvious vehicle was a red VW Beetle driven by a young lady, then a battered blue Morris Marina with an elderly man at the wheel. By the time I had drawn up outside the scene of Caversham Heights' first murder, I had counted forty-three white trucks, twenty-two red Beetles and sixteen identically battered Morris Marinas, not to mention several green Ford Escorts and a brace of white Chevrolets. It was obviously a limitation within the text and nothing more, so I hurriedly parked, read Mary's notes again to make sure I knew what I had to do, took a deep breath and walked across to the area that had been taped off. A few uniformed police officers were milling around. I showed my warrant card and ducked under the 'Police: do not cross' tape.
The yard was oblong shaped, fifteen foot wide and about twenty foot long, surrounded by a high red brick wall with crumbling mortar. There was a large white SOCO tent over the scene and a forensic pathologist was kneeling next to a well-described corpse dictating notes into a tape recorder.
'Hello!' said a jovial voice close by. I turned to see a large man in a macintosh grinning at me.
'Detective Sergeant Mary,' I told him obediently. 'Transferred here from Basingstoke.'
'You don't have to worry about all that yet.' He smiled. 'The story is with Jack at the moment – he's meeting Officer Tibbit on the street outside. My name's DCI Briggs and I'm your friendly yet long-suffering boss in this little caper. Crusty and prone to outbursts of temper yet secretly supportive, I will have to suspend Jack at least once before the story is over.'
'How do you do?' I spluttered.
'Excellent!' cried Briggs, shaking my hand gratefully. 'Mary told me you're with Jurisfiction. Is that true?'
'Yes.'
'Any news about when the Council of Genres Book Inspectorate will be in?' he asked. 'It would be a help to know.'
'Council of Genres?' I echoed, trying not to let my ignorance show. 'I'm sorry, I've not spent that much time in the BookWorld.'
'An Outlander?' replied Briggs, eyes wide in wonderment. 'Here, in Caversham Heights'?'
'Yes,' I admitted, 'I'm—'
'Tell me,' interrupted Briggs, 'what do waves look like when they crash on the shore?'
'Who's an Outlander?' echoed the pathologist, a middle-aged Indian woman who suddenly leaped to her feet and stared at me intently. 'You?'
'Y-es,' I admitted.
'I'm Dr Singh,' explained the pathologist, shaking my hand vigorously. 'I'm matter-of-fact, apparently without humour, like cats and people who like cats, don't suffer fools, yet on occasion I do exhibit a certain warmth. Tell me, do you think I'm anything like a real pathologist?'
'Of course,' I answered, trying to think of her brief appearances in the book.
'You see,' she went on, 'I've never seen a real pathologist and I'm really not sure what I'm meant to do.'
'You're doing fine,' I assured her.
'What about me?' asked Briggs. 'Do you think I need to develop more as a character? Am I like all those real people you rub shoulders with, or am I a bit one-dimensional?'
'Well—' I began.
'I knew it!' he cried unhappily. 'It's the hair, isn't it? Do you think it should be shorter? Longer? What about having a bizarre character trait? I've been learning the trombone – that would be unusual, yes?'
'Someone said there was an Outlander in the book—!' interrupted a uniformed officer, one of a pair who had just walked into the yard. 'I'm Unnamed Police Officer #1, this is my colleague, Unnamed Police Officer #2. Can I ask a question about the Outland?'
'Sure.'
'What's the point of alphabet soup?'
'I don't know.'
'Are you sure you're from the Outland?' he asked suspiciously, adding 'Then tell me this: why is there no singular for scampi?
'I'm not sure.'
'You're not from the Outland,' said Unnamed Police Officer #1 sadly. 'You should be ashamed of yourself, lying and raising our hopes like that!'
'Very well,' I replied, covering my eyes. 'I'll prove it to you. Speak to me in turn but leave off your speech designators.'
'Okay,' said Unnamed Police Officer #1, 'who is this talking?'
'And who is this?' added Dr Singh.
'I said leave off your speech designators. Try again.'
'It's harder than you think,' sighed Unnamed Police Officer #1. 'Okay, here goes.'
There was a pause.
'Which one of us is talking now?'
'And who am I?'
'Mrs Singh first, Unnamed Police Officer #1 second. Was I correct?'
'Amazing!' murmured Mrs Singh. 'How do you do that?'
'I can recognise your voices. I have a sense of smell, too.'
'No kidding? Do you know anyone in publishing?'
'None who would help. My husband is, or was, an author, but his contacts wouldn't know me from Eve at present. I'm a SpecOps officer; I don't have much to do with contemporary fiction.'
'SpecOps?' queried UPO #2. 'What's that?'
'We're going to be scrapped, you know,' interrupted Briggs, 'unless we can get a publisher.'
'We could be broken down into letters,' added UPO #1 in a hushed tone, 'cast into the Text Sea; and I have a wife and two kids – or at least, in my backstory I do.'
'I can't help you,' I told them, I'm not even—'
'Places, please!' yelled Briggs so suddenly I jumped.
The pathologist and the two unnamed officers hurried back to their places and awaited Jack, who I could hear talking to someone in the house.
'Good luck,' hissed Briggs from the side of his mouth as he motioned me to sit on a low wall. 'I'll prompt you if you dry.'
'Thanks.'
DCI Briggs was sitting on a low wall with a plainclothes policewoman who busied herself taking notes and did not look up. Briggs stood as Jack entered and looked at his watch in an unsubtle way. Jack answered the unasked question in the defensive, which he soon realised was a mistake
'I'm sorry, sir, I came here as quick as I could.'
Briggs grunted and waved a hand in the direction of the corpse.
'It looks like he died from gunshot wounds,' he said grimly, 'discovered dead at 8.47 this morning.'
'Anything else I need to know?' asked Spratt.
'A couple of points. First, the deceased is the nephew of crime boss Angel DeFablio, so I wanted someone good with the press in case the media decide to have a bonanza. Second, I'm giving you this job as a favour. You're not exactly first seed with the seventh floor at the moment. There are some people who want to see you take a fall – and I don't want that to happen.'
'Is there a third point?'
'No one else is available.'
'I preferred it when there were only two.'
'Listen, Jack,' went on Briggs, 'you're a good officer if a little , sprung loaded at times and I want you on my team without any mishaps.'
'Is this where I say thank you?'
'You do. Mop it up nice and neat and give me an initial report as soon as you can. Okay?'
Briggs nodded in the direction of the young lady who had been waiting patiently.
'Jack, I want you to meet Thurs – I mean, DS Mary Jones.'
'Hello,' said Jack.
'Pleased to meet you, sir,' said the young woman.
'And you. Who are you working with?'
'Next – I mean Jones is your new Detective Sergeant,' said Briggs beginning to sweat for some inexplicable reason. 'Transferred with an Al record from Swindon.'
'Basingstoke,' corrected Mary.
'Sorry. Basingstoke.'
'No offence to DS Jones, sir, but I was hoping for Butcher, Spooner or—'
'Not possible, Jack,' said Briggs in the tone of voice that made arguing useless. 'Well, I'm off. I'll leave you here with, er—'
'Jones.'
'Yes, Jones, so you can get acquainted. Remember: I need that report as soon as possible. Got it?'
Jack did indeed get it and Briggs departed.
He shivered in the cold and looked at the young DS again.
'Mary Jones, eh?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What have you found out so far?'
She dug in her pocket for a notebook, couldn't find it so counted the points off on her fingers instead.
'Deceased's name is Sonny DeFablio.'
There was a pause. Jack didn't say anything so Jones, now slightly startled, continued as though he had.
'Time of death? Too early to tell. Probably 3 a.m. last night, give or take an hour. We'll know more when we get the corpse. Gun? We'll know when…'
'… Jack, are you okay?'
He had sat down wearily and was staring at the ground, head in hands.
I looked around but Dr Singh, her assistants and the unnamed officers were busily getting on with their parts, unwilling, it seemed, to get embroiled – or perhaps they were just embarrassed.
'I can't do this any more,' muttered Jack.
'Sir,' I persisted, trying to ad-lib, 'do you want to see the body or can we remove it?'
'What's the use?' sobbed the crushed protagonist. 'No one is reading us; it doesn't matter.'
I placed my hand on his shoulder.
'I've tried to make it more interesting,' he sobbed, 'but nothing seems to work. My wife won't speak to me, my job's on the line, drugs are flooding into Reading, and if I don't make the narrative even remotely readable then we all get demolished and there's nothing left at all except an empty hole on the bookshelf and the memory of a might-have-been in the head of the author.'
'Your wife only left you because all loner maverick detectives have domestic problems,' I explained. 'I'm sure she loves you really.'
'No, no, she doesn't,' he sobbed again. 'All is lost. Don't you see? It's customary for detectives to drive unusual cars and I had a wonderful 1924 Delage-Talbot Supersport. The idea was stolen and replaced with that dreadful Austin Allegro. If any scenes get deleted, we'll really be stuffed.'
He looked up at me.
'What's your name?'
'Thursday Next? The Outlander Jurisfiction agent apprenticed to Miss Havisham Thursday Next?'
I nodded. News travels fast in the Well.
An excited gleam came into his eye.
'I read about you in The Word. Tell me, would you have any way of finding out when the Book Inspectorate are due to read our story? I've lined up seven three-dimensional B-2 freelancers to come in and give the book a bit of an edge – just for an hour or so. With their help we might be able to hang on to it; all I need to know is the when.'
'I'm sorry, Mr Spratt.' I sighed. 'I'm new to all this; what exactly is the Council of Genres?'
'They look after fictional legislature,' he replied. 'Dramatic conventions, mainly. A representative from every genre sits on the council – it is they who decide the conventions of storytelling and it is they – through the Book Inspectorate – who decide whether an unpublished book is to be kept – or demolished.'
'Oh,' I replied, realising that the BookWorld was governed by almost as many rules and regulations as my own, 'then I can't help you.'
'What about Text Grand Central? Do you know anyone there?'
TGC I had heard of: they monitored the books in the Great Library and passed any textual problems on to us at Jurisfiction, who were purely a policing agency – but I knew no more than that. I shook my head again.
'Blast!' he muttered, staring at the ground. 'I've applied to the C of G for a cross-genre makeover but you might as well try and speak to the Great Panjandrum himself.'
'Why don't you change the book from within?' I asked.
'Change without permission?' he replied, shocked at my suggestion. 'That would mean rebellion. I want to get the C of G's attention but not like that – we'd be crushed in less than a chapter!'
'But if the inspectorate haven't been round yet,' I said slowly, 'then how would they even know anything had changed?'
He thought about this for a moment.
'Easier said than done – if I start to fool with the narrative it might all collapse like a pack of cards!'
'Then start small,' I proposed, 'change yourself first. If that works, you can try to bend the plot slightly.'
'Y-esss,' said Jack slowly. 'What did you have in mind?'
'Give up the booze.'
'How did you know about my drink problem?'
'All maverick loner detectives with domestic strife have drink problems,' I commented. 'Give up the liquor and go home to your wife.'
'That's not how I've been written,' replied Jack slowly. 'I just can't do it – it would be going against type – the readers—!'
'Jack, there are no readers. And if you don't at least try what I suggest, there never will be any readers – or any Jack Spratt. But if things go well, you might even be in … a sequel.'
'A sequel?' repeated Jack with a sort of dreamy look in his eyes. 'You mean – a Jack Spratt series?
'Who knows,' I added, 'maybe even one day a boxed set.'
His eyes gleamed and he stood up.
'A boxed set,' he whispered, staring into the middle distance. 'It's up to me, isn't it?' he added in a slow voice.
'Yes. Change yourself, change the book – and soon, before it's too late, make the novel into something the Book Inspectorate will want to read.'
'Okay,' he said at last, 'beginning with the next chapter. Instead of arguing with Briggs about letting a suspect go without charging them, I'll take my ex-wife out to lunch.'
'No.'
'No?'
'No,' I affirmed. 'Not tomorrow or next chapter or even next page or paragraph – you're going to change now.'
'We can't!' he protested. 'There are at least nine more pages while you and I discuss the state of the body with Dr Singh and go through all that boring forensic stuff.'
'Leave it to me,' I told him. 'We'll jump back a paragraph or two. Ready?'
He nodded and we moved to the top of the previous page, just as Briggs was leaving.
Jack did indeed get it and Briggs departed.
He shivered in the cold and looked at the young DS again. 'Mary Jones, eh?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What have you found out so far?'
She dug in her pocket for a notebook, couldn't find it so counted the points off on her fingers instead.
'Deceased's name is Sonny DeFablio.'
'What else?'
'Yes. Said it was important.'
'I'll drop by this evening.'
'She said it was very urgent,' stressed Jones.
'Hold the fort for me, would you?'
'Certainly, sir.'
Jack walked from the crime scene leaving Jones with Dr Singh.
'Right,' said Mary, 'what have we got? …'
* * *
We ran the scene together, Dr Singh telling me all the information that she was more used to relating to Jack. She went into a huge amount of detail regarding the time of death and a more-than-graphic explanation of how she thought it had happened. Ballistics, trajectory, blood-splatter patterns, you name it. I was really quite glad when she finished and the chapter moved off to Jack's improvised meeting with his ex-wife. As soon as we were done, Dr Singh turned to me and said in an anxious tone:
'I hope you know what you're doing.'
'Not a clue.'
'Me neither,' replied the quasi-pathologist. 'You know that long speech I made just now about post-mortem bruising, angles of bullet entry and discoloration of body tissues—?'
'Yes?'
She leaned closer.
'Didn't understand a word. Eight pages of technical dialogue and haven't the foggiest what I'm talking about. I only trained at Generic college as a mother figure in domestic potboilers. If I'd known I was to be drafted to this I would have spent a few hours in a Cornwell. Do you have any clues as to what I'm actually meant to do?'
I rummaged in her bag and brought out a large thermometer.
'Try this.'
'What do I do with it?'
I pointed.
'You're kidding me,' replied Dr Singh, aghast.
3
Three witches, multiple choice and sarcasm
'Jurisfiction is the name given to the policing agency that works inside books. Under a remit from the Council of Genres and working with the intelligence-gathering capabilities of Text Grand Central, the Prose Resource Operatives at Jurisfiction comprise a mixed bag of characters, most drawn from the ranks of fiction but some, like Harris Tweed and myself, from the real world. Problems in fiction are noticed by "spotters" employed at Text Grand Central, and from there relayed to the Bellman, a ten-yearly elected figure who runs Jurisfiction under strict guidelines laid down by the Council of Genres. Jurisfiction has its own code of conduct, technical department, canteen, and resident washerwoman.'
THURSDAY NEXT – The Jurisfiction Chronicles
Mrs Singh didn't waste the opportunity, and she gathered together several other trainee pathologists she knew from the Well. They all sat spellbound as I recounted the limited information I possessed. Exhausted, I managed to escape four hours later. It was evening when I finally got home. I opened the door to the flying boat and kicked off my shoes. Pickwick rushed up to greet me and tugged excitedly at my trouser leg. I followed her through to the living room and then had to wait while she remembered where she had left her egg. We finally found it rolled behind the hi-fi and I congratulated her, despite there being no change in its appearance.
I returned to the kitchen, ibb and obb had been studying Mrs Beeton all day, and ibb was attempting steak Diane with french fries. Landen used to cook that for me and I suddenly felt very lonesome and small, so far from home I might very well be on Pluto, obb was putting the final touches to a fully decorated four-tier wedding cake.
'Hello, ibb,' I said, 'how's it going?'
'How's what going?' replied the Generic in that annoying literal way in which they speak. 'And I'm obb.'
'Sorry – obb.'
'Why are you sorry? Have you done something?'
'Never mind.'
I sat down at the table and opened a package that had arrived. It was from Miss Havisham and contained the Jurisfiction Standard Entrance Exam. Jurisfiction was the policing agency within fiction that I had joined almost by accident – I had wanted to get Jack Schitt out of 'The Raven' and getting involved with the agency seemed to be the best way to learn. But Jurisfiction had grown on me and I now felt strongly about maintaining the solidity of the written word. It was the same job I had undertaken at SpecOps, just from the other side. But it struck me that, on this occasion, Miss Havisham was wrong – I was not yet ready for full membership.
The hefty tome consisted of five hundred questions, nearly all of them multiple choice. I noticed that the exam was self-invigilating; as soon as I opened the book a clock in the top left-hand corner started to count down from two hours. They were mostly questions about literature, which I had no problem with. Jurisfiction law was trickier and I would probably need to consult Miss Havisham. I made a start and ten minutes later was pondering question forty-six: Which of the following poets never used the outlawed word 'majestic' in their work? when there was a knock at the door accompanied by a peal of thunder.
I closed the exam book and opened the door. On the jetty were three ugly old crones dressed in filthy rags. They had bony features, rough and warty skin, and they launched into a well-rehearsed act as soon as the door opened.
'When shall we three meet again?' said the first witch. 'In Thurber, Wodehouse, or in Greene?'
'When the hurly-burly's done,' added the second, 'when the story's thought and spun!'
There was a pause until the second witch nudged the third.
'That will be Eyre the set of sun,' she said quickly.
'Where the place?'
'There to meet with MsNext!'
They stopped talking and I stared, unsure of what I was meant to do.
'Thank you very much,' I replied, but the first witch snorted disparagingly and "wedged her foot in the door as I tried to close it.
'Prophecies, kind lady?' she asked as the other two cackled hideously.
'I really don't think so,' I answered, pushing her foot away. 'Perhaps another time.'
'All hail, MsNext! hail to thee, citizen of Swindon!'
'Really, I'm sorry – and I'm out of change.'
'All hail, MsNext, hail to thee, full Jurisfiction agent, thou shalt be!'
'If you don't go,' I began, starting to get annoyed, 'I'll—'
'All hail, MsNext, thou shalt be Bellman thereafter!'
'Sure I will. Go on, clear off, you imperfect speakers – bother someone else with your nonsense!'
'A shilling!' said the first. 'And we shall tell you more – or less, as you please.'
I closed the door despite their grumbling and went back to my multiple choice. I'd only just answered question forty-nine: Which of the following is not a gerund? when there was another knock at the door.
'Blast!' I muttered, getting up and striking my ankle on the table leg. It was the three witches again.
'I thought I told you—'
'Sixpence, then,' said the chief hag, putting out a bony hand.
'No,' I replied firmly, rubbing my ankle. 'I never buy anything at the door.'
They all started up then:
'Thrice to thine and thrice to mine, and thrice again, to make up—'
I shut the door again. I wasn't superstitious and had far more important things to worry about. I had just sat down again, sipped my tea and answered the next question: Who wrote 'Toad of Toad Hall'? when there was another rap at the door.
'Right,' I said to myself, marching across the room, 'I've had it with you three.'
I pulled open the door and said:
'Listen here, hag, I'm really not interested, nor ever will be in your … Oh.'
I stared. Granny Next. If it had been Admiral Lord Nelson himself I don't think I could have been more surprised.
'Gran!?!' I exclaimed. 'What on earth are you doing here?'
She was dressed in a spectacular outfit of blue gingham, from her dress to her overcoat and even her hat, shoes and bag.
I hugged her. She smelt of Bodmin for Women. She hugged me in return in that sort of fragile way that very elderly people do. And she was elderly – a hundred and eight, at the last count.
'I have come to look after you, young Thursday,' she announced.
'Er – thank you, Gran,' I replied, wondering quite how she got here.
'You're going to have a baby and need attending to,' she added grandly. 'My suitcase is on the jetty and you're going to have to pay the taxi.'
'Of course,' I muttered, going outside and finding a yellow cab with TransGenreTaxis written on the door.
'How much?' I asked the cabby.
'Seventeen and six.'
'Oh yes?' I replied sarcastically. 'Took the long way round?'
'Trips to the the Well cost double,' said the cabby. 'Pay up or I'll make sure Jurisfiction hears about it.'
I handed him a pound and he patted his pockets.
'Sorry,' he said, 'have you got anything smaller? I don't carry much change.'
'Keep it,' I told him as his footnoterphone muttered something about a party often wanting to get out of Florence in The Decameron. I got a receipt and he vanished from view. I picked up Gran's suitcase and hauled it into the Sunderland.
'This is ibb and obb,' I explained, 'Generics billeted with me. The one on the left is ibb.'
'I'm obb.'
'Sorry. That's ibb and that's obb. This is my grandmother.'
'Hello,' said Granny Next, gazing at my two house guests.
'You're very old,' observed ibb.
'One hundred and eight,' announced Gran proudly. 'Do you two do anything but stare?'
'Not really,' said ibb.
'Plock,' said Pickwick, who had popped her head round the door. She ruffled her feathers excitedly and rushed up to greet Gran, who always seemed to have a few spare marshmallows about her.
'What's it like being old?' asked ibb, who was peering closely at the soft pink folds in Gran's skin.
'Death's adolescence,' replied Gran, 'but you know the worst part?'
Ibb and obb shook their heads.
'I'm going to miss my funeral by three days.'
'Gran!' I scolded. 'You'll confuse them – they tend to take things literally.'
It was too late.
'Miss your own funeral?' muttered ibb, thinking hard. 'How is that possible?'
'Think about it, ibb,' said obb. 'If she lived three days longer, she'd be able to speak at her own funeral – get it?'
'Of course,' said ibb, 'stupid of me.'
And they went into the kitchen, talking about Mrs Beeton and the best way to deal with amorous liaisons between the scullery maid and the boot boy – it must have been an old edition.
'When's supper?' asked Gran, looking disdainfully at the interior of the flying boat. 'I'm absolutely famished – but nothing tougher than suet, mind. The gnashers aren't what they were.'
I delicately helped her out of her gingham coat and sat her down at the table. Steak Diane would be like eating railway sleepers to her, so I started to make an omelette.
'Now, Gran,' I said, cracking some eggs into a bowl, 'I want you to tell me what you're doing here.'
'I need to be here to remind you of things you might forget, young Thursday.'
'Such as what?'
'Such as Landen. They eradicated my husband too, and the one thing I needed was someone to help me through it, so that's what I'm here to do for you.'
'I'm not going to forget him, Gran!'
'Yes,' she agreed in a slightly peculiar way, 'I'm here to make sure of it.'
'That's the why,' I persisted, 'but what about the how?'
'I too used to do the occasional job for Jurisfiction in the old days,' she explained, 'a long time ago, mind, but it was just one of many jobs that I did in my life – and not the strangest, either.'
'What was?' I asked, knowing in my heart that I really shouldn't be asking.
'Well, I was God Emperor of the Universe once,' she answered in the same manner in which she might have admitted to going to the pictures, 'and being a man for twenty-four hours was pretty weird.'
'Yes,' I replied, 'I expect it was.'
ibb laid the table and we sat down to eat ten minutes later. As Gran sucked on her omelette I tried to make conversation with ibb and obb. The trouble was, neither of them had the requisite powers of social communication to assimilate anything from speech other than the bald facts it contained. I tried a joke I had heard from Bowden, my partner at SpecOps, about an octopus and a set of bagpipes. But when I delivered the punchline they both stared at me.
'Why would the bagpipes be dressed in pyjamas?' asked ibb.
'They weren't,' I replied, 'it was the tartan. That's just what the octopus thought they were.'
'I see,' said obb, not seeing at all. 'Would you mind going over it again?'
'That's it,' I said resolutely, 'you're going to have a personality if it kills me.'
'Kill you?' enquired ibb in all seriousness. 'Why would it kill you?'
I thought carefully. There had to be somewhere to begin. I clicked my fingers.
'Sarcasm,' I said. 'We'll start with that.'
They both looked at me blankly.
'Well,' I began, 'sarcasm is closely related to irony and implies a twofold view – a literal meaning yet a wholly different intention from what is said. For instance, if you were lying to me about who ate all the anchovies I left in the cupboard, and you had eaten them, you might say: "It wasn't me" and I would say: "Sure it wasn't," meaning I'm sure it was but in an ironic or sarcastic manner.'
'What's an anchovy?' asked ibb.
'A small and very salty fish.'
'I see,' replied ibb. 'Does sarcasm work with other things or is it only fish?'
'No, the stolen anchovies was only by way of an example. Now you try.'
'An anchovy?'
'No, you try some sarcasm.'
They continued to look at me blankly. I sighed.
'Like trying to nail jelly to the wall,' I muttered under my breath.
'Plock,' said Pickwick in her sleep as she gently keeled over. 'Plocketty-plock.'
'Sarcasm is better explained through humour,' put in Gran, who had been watching my efforts with interest. 'You know that Pickwick isn't too clever?'
Pickwick stirred in her sleep where she had fallen, resting on her head with her claws in the air.
'Yes, we know that,' replied ibb and obb, who were nothing if not observant.
'Well, if I were to say that it is easier to get yeast to perform tricks than Pickwick, I'm using mild sarcasm to make a joke.'
'Yeast?' queried ibb. 'But yeast has no intelligence.'
'Exactly,' replied Gran. 'So I am making a sarcastic observation that Pickwick has less brain power than yeast. You try.'
The Generic thought long and hard.
'So,' said ibb slowly, 'how about … Pickwick is so clever she sits on the TV and stares at the sofa?'
'It's a start,' said Gran.
'And,' added ibb, gaining confidence by the second, 'if Pickwick went on Mastermind, she'd do best to choose "Dodo eggs" as her specialist subject.'
obb was getting the hang of it, too.
'If a thought crossed her mind it would be the shortest journey on record—'
'Pickwick would cause a sensation at Oxford – but only from within a specimen jar—'
'All right, that's enough sarcasm,' I said quickly. 'I know Pickwick won't win "Brain of BookWorld" but she's a loyal companion.'
I looked across at Pickwick, who slid off the sofa and landed with a thump on the floor. She woke up and started plocking loudly at the sofa, coffee table, rug – in fact, anything close by – before calming down, climbing on top of her egg and falling asleep again.
'You did well, guys,' I said. 'Another time we'll tackle subtext.'
ibb and obb went to their room soon afterwards, discussing how sarcasm was related to irony, and whether irony itself could be generated in laboratory conditions. Gran and I chatted about home. Mother was very well, it seemed, and Joffy and Wilbur and Orville were as mad as ever. Gran, conscious of my dealings with Yorrick Kaine in the past, reported that Kaine had returned soon after the episode with the Glatisant at Volescamper Towers, lost his seat in the house and been back at the helm of his newspaper and publishing company soon after. I knew he was fictional and a danger to my world but couldn't see what to do about it from here. We talked into the night about the BookWorld, Landen, eradications and having children. Gran had had three herself so she told me all the stuff they don't tell you when you sign on the dotted line.
'Think of swollen ankles as trophies,' she said, somewhat unhelpfully.
That night I put Gran in my room and slept in the bedroom under the flight deck. I washed, undressed and climbed into bed, weary after the day's work. I lay there, staring at the pattern of reflected light dancing on the ceiling, and thought of my father, Emma Hamilton, Jack Spratt, Dream Topping and babies. I was meant to be here resting but the demolition problem of Caversham Heights couldn't be ignored – I could have moved but I liked it here, and besides, I had done enough running away already. The arrival of Gran had been strange, but since much was odd here in the Well, weird had become commonplace. If things carried on like this the dull and meaningless would become items of spectacular interest.
4
Landen Parke-Laine
'They say that no one really dies until you forget them, and in Landen's case it was especially true. Since Landen had been eradicated I had discovered that I could bring him back to life in my memories and my dreams, and I had begun to look forward to falling asleep and returning to treasured moments which we could share, albeit only fleetingly.
'Landen lost a leg to a landmine and his best friend to a military blunder. The friend had been my brother, Anton – and Landen testified against him at the hearing that followed the disastrous "Charge of the Light Armoured Brigade" in 1973. My brother was blamed for the debacle, Landen was honourably discharged and I was awarded the Crimea Star for gallantry. We didn't speak for ten years, and we were married two months ago. Some people say it was an unorthodox romance – but I never noticed this myself
THURSDAY NEXT – TheJurisfiction Chronicles
That night, I went to the Crimea again. Not, you might think, the most obvious port of call in my sleep. The peninsula had been a constant source of anguish in my waking hours: a time of stress, of pain, and violent death. But the Crimea was where I met Landen, and where we fell in love. The memories were more dear to me now because it had never happened, and it was for this reason that the Crimea's sometimes painful recollections came back to me. I relaxed and was transported in the arms of Morpheus to the Black Sea peninsula, twelve years before.
No shots had been fired for ten years when I arrived on the peninsula in the May of 1973 although the conflict itself had been going for a hundred and twenty years. I was attached to the 3rd Wessex Tank Light Armoured Brigade as a driver – I was twenty-three years old and drove thirteen tons of armoured vehicle under the command of Major Phelps, who was later to lose his lower arm and his mind during a badly timed charge into the massed Russian artillery. In my youthful naïveté, I had thought the Crimea was fun – a notion that was soon to change.
'Report to the vehicle pool at fourteen hundred hours,' I was told one morning by our sergeant, a kindly yet brusque man by the name of Tozer. He would survive the charge but be lost in a training accident eight years later. I was at his funeral. He was a good man.
'Any idea what I'll be doing, Sarge?' I asked.
Sergeant Tozer shrugged.
'Special duties. I was told to allocate someone intelligent – but they weren't available, so you'll have to do.'
I laughed.
'Thanks, Sarge.'
I dreamed this scene more often these days, and the reason was clear – it was the first time Landen and I spent any time together. My brother Anton was also serving out here and he had introduced us a few weeks before – but Anton did that a lot. Today I was to drive Landen in an armoured scout car to an observation post overlooking a valley in which a build-up of Imperial Russian artillery had been reported. We referred to the incident as 'our first date'.
I arrived for duty and was told to sign for a Dingo scout car, a small two-person armoured vehicle with enough power to get out of trouble quick – or into it, depending on one's level of competency. I duly picked up the scout car and waited for nearly an hour, standing in a tent with a lot of other drivers, talking and laughing, drinking tea and telling unlikely stories. It was a chilly day but I was glad I was doing this instead of daily orders, which generally meant cleaning up the camp and other tedious tasks.
'Corporal Next?' said an officer who poked his head into the tent. 'Drop the tea – we're off!'
He wasn't handsome but he was intriguing, and, unlike many of the officers, he seemed to have a certain relaxed manner about him.
'Good morning, sir,' I said, unsure of whether he remembered me. I needn't have worried. I didn't know it yet, but he had specifically asked Sergeant Tozer for me. He was intrigued too, but fraternising on active duty was a subtle art. The penalties could be severe.
I led him to where the Dingo was parked and climbed in. I pressed the starter and the engine rumbled into life. Landen lowered himself into the commander's seat.
'Seen Anton recently?' he asked.
'He's up the coast for a few weeks,' I told him.
'Ah,' he replied, 'you made me fifty pounds when you won the ladies' boxing last weekend. I'm very grateful.'
I smiled and thanked him but he wasn't paying me any attention – he was busy studying a map.
'We're going here, Corporal.'
I studied the chart. It was the closest to the front lines I'd ever been. To my shame, I found the perceived danger somewhat intoxicating. Landen sensed it.
'It's not as wildly exciting as you might think, Next. I've been up there twenty times and was only shelled once.'
'What was it like?'
'Disagreeably noisy. Take the road to Balaclava – I'll tell you when to turn right.'
So we bumped off up the road, past a scene of such rural tranquillity that it was hard to imagine that two armies were facing each other not ten miles away with enough firepower to lay the whole peninsula to waste.
'Ever seen a Russian?' he asked as we passed military trucks supporting the front-line artillery batteries; their sole job was to lob a few shells towards the Russians – just to show we were still about.
'Never, sir.'
'They look just like you and me, you know.'
'You mean they don't wear big furry hats and have snow on their shoulders?'
The sarcasm wasn't wasted.
'Sorry,' he said, 'Ididn't mean to patronise. How long have you been out here?'
'Two weeks.'
'I've been here two years,' said Landen, 'but it might as well be two weeks. Take a right at the farmhouse just ahead.'
I slowed down and cranked the wheel round to enter the dusty farm track. The springs on a Dingo are quite hard – it was a jarring ride along the track, which passed empty farm buildings, all bearing the scars of long-past battles. There was old and rusting armour and other war debris lying abandoned in the countryside, reminders of just how long this static war had been going on. Rumour had it that in the middle of no man's land there were still artillery pieces dating from the nineteenth century. We stopped at a checkpoint, Landen showed his pass and we drove on, a soldier joining us up top 'as a precaution'. He had a second ammunition clip taped to the first in his weapon – always a sign of someone who expected trouble – and a dagger in his boot. He had only fourteen words and twenty-one minutes left before he was to die in a small spinney of trees that in happier times might have been a good place for a picnic. The bullet would enter below his left shoulder blade, deflect against his spine, go straight through his heart and exit three inches below his armpit, whereupon it would lodge in the fuel gauge of the Dingo. He would die instantly and I would relate what happened to his parents eighteen months later. His mother would cry and his father would thank me with a dry throat. But the soldier didn't know that. These were my memories, not his.
'Russian spotter plane!' hissed the doomed soldier.
Landen ordered me back to the trees. The soldier had eleven words left. He would be the first person I saw killed in the conflict but by no means the last. As a civvy you are protected from such unpleasantries but in the forces it is commonplace – and you never get used to it.
I pulled the wheel hard over and doubled back towards the spinney as fast as I could. We halted under the protective cover of the trees and watched the small observation plane from the dappled shade. We didn't know it at the time but an advance party of Russian commandos were pushing towards the lines in our direction. The observation post we were heading for had been overrun half an hour previously and the commandos were being supported by the spotter plane we had seen – and behind them, twenty Russian battle tanks with infantry in support. The attack was to fail, of course, but only by virtue of the VHF wireless set carried in the Dingo. I would drive us out of there and Landen would call in an air strike. That was the way it had happened. That was the way it had always happened. Brought together in the white heat and fear of combat. But as we sat beneath the cover of the birch trees, huddled down in the scout car, the only sound the coo of a partridge and the gentle thrum of the Dingo's engine, we knew nothing – and were concerned only that the spotter plane that wheeled above us would delay our arrival at the OP.
'What's it doing?' whispered Landen, shielding his eyes to get a better look.
'Looks like a Yak-12,' replied the soldier.
Six words left and under a minute. I had been looking up with them but now glanced out of the hatch at the front of the scout car. My heart missed a beat as I saw a Russian run and jump into a natural hollow a hundred yards in front of the Dingo.
'Russkie! I gasped. 'Hundred yards twelve o'clock!'
I reached up to close the viewing hatch but Landen grabbed my wrist.
'Not yet!' he whispered. 'Put her in gear.'
I did as I was told as Landen and the soldier twisted around to look.
'What have you got?' hissed Landen.
'Five, maybe six,' the soldier whispered back, 'heading this way.'
'Me too,' muttered Landen. 'Go, Corporal, go!'
I revved the engine, dropped the clutch and the Dingo lunged forward. Almost instantaneously there was a rasp of machine-gun fire as the Russians opened up. To them, we were a surprise ruined. I heard the closer rattle of gunfire as our soldier replied, along with the sporadic crack of a pistol that I knew was Landen. I didn't close the steel viewing hatch; I needed to be able to see as much as I could. The scout car bounced across the track and swerved before gathering speed with the metallic spang of small-arms fire hitting the armour plate. I felt a weight slump against my back and a bloodied arm fell into my vision.
'Keep going!' shouted the soldier. 'And don't stop until I say!' He let go another burst of fire, took out the spent clip, knocked the new magazine on his helmet, reloaded and fired again.
'That wasn't how it happened—!' I muttered aloud, the soldier having gone way over his allotted time and word count. I looked at the bloodied hand that had fallen against me. A feeling of dread began to gnaw slowly inside me. The fuel gauge was still intact – shouldn't it have been shattered when the soldier was shot? Then I realised. The soldier had survived and the officer was dead.
I sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat and breathing hard. The strength of the memories had lessened with the years but here was something new, something unexpected. I replayed the images in my head, watching the bloodstained hand fall again and again. It all felt so horribly real. But there was something, just there outside my grasp, something that I should know but didn't – a loss that I couldn't explain, an absence of some sort I couldn't place—
'Landen,' said a soft voice in the darkness, 'his name was Landen.'
'Landen—!' I cried. 'Yes, yes, his name was Landen.'
'And he didn't die in the Crimea. The soldier did.'
'No, no, I just remembered him dying—!'
'You remembered wrong.'
It was Gran, sitting beside me in her gingham nightie. She held my hand tightly and gazed at me through her spectacles, her grey hair adrift and hanging down in wispy strands. And with her words, I began to remember. Landen had survived – he must have done in order to call up the air strike. But even now, awake, I could remember him lying dead beside me. It didn't make sense.
'He didn't die?'
I picked up the picture I had sketched of him from the bedside table.
'Did I ever see him again?' I asked, studying the unfamiliar face.
'Oh, yes,' replied Gran. 'Lots and lots. In fact, you married him.'
'I did, didn't I?' I cried, tears coming to my eyes as the memories returned. 'At the Blessed Lady of the Lobster in Swindon! Were you there?'
'Yes,' said Gran, 'wouldn't have missed it for the world.'
I was still confused.
'What happened to him? Why isn't he with me now?'
'He was eradicated,' replied Gran in a low voice, 'by Lavoisier – and Goliath.'
'I remember,' I answered, the darkness in my mind made light as a curtain seemed to draw back and everything that had happened flooded in. 'Jack Schitt. Goliath. They eradicated Landen to blackmail me. But I failed. I didn't get him back – and that's why I'm here.'
I stopped.
'But … but how could I possibly forget him? I was only thinking about him yesterday! What's happening to me?'
'It's Aornis, my dear,' explained Gran, 'she is a mnemonomorph. A memory-changer. Remember the trouble you had with her back home?'
I did, now she mentioned it. Gran's prompting broke the delicate veil of forgetfulness that cloaked her presence in my mind – and everything about Hades' little sister returned to me as though hidden from my conscious memory. Aornis, who had sworn revenge for her brother's death at my hands; Aornis, who could manipulate memories as she chose; Aornis, who had nearly brought about a gooey Dream Topping armageddon. But Aornis wasn't from here. She lived in—
'—the real world,' I murmured out loud. 'How can she be here, inside fiction? In Caversham Heights of all places?'
'She isn't,' replied Gran. 'Aornis is only in your mind. It isn't all of her, either – simply a mindworm, a sort of mental virus. She is – resourceful, adaptable and spiteful; I know of no one else who can have an independent life within someone else's memory.'
'So how do I get rid of her?'
I have some experience of mnemonomorphs from my youth,' replied Gran, 'but some things you have to defeat on your own. Stay on your toes and we will speak often and at length.'
'Then this isn't over yet?'
'No,' replied Gran sadly, shaking her head, 'I wish it were. Be prepared for a shock, young Thursday – tell me Landen's name in full.'
'Don't be ridiculous!' I scoffed. 'It's Landen Parke—'
I stopped as a cold fear welled up inside my chest. Surely I could remember my own husband's name? But try as I might, I could not. I looked at Gran.
'Yes, I do know,' she replied, 'but I'm not going to tell you. When you remember, you will know you have won.'
5
The Well of Lost Plots
'Footnoterphone: Although the idea of using footnotes as a communication medium was suggested by Dr Faustus as far back as 1622, it wasn't until 1856 that the first practical footnoterphone was demonstrated. By 1895 an experimental version was built into Hard Times, and within the next three years most of Dickens was connected. The system was expanded rapidly, culminating in the first trans-genre trunk line, opened with much fanfare in 1915 between Human Drama and Crime. The network has been expanded and improved ever since, but just recently the advent of mass junkfootnoterphones and the deregulation of news and entertainment channels have almost clogged the system. A mobilefootnoterphone network was introduced in 1985.'
UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Creat Library (glossary)
Gran had got up early to make my breakfast and I found her asleep in the armchair with the kettle almost molten on the stove and Pickwick firmly ensnared in her knitting. I made some coffee and cooked myself breakfast despite feeling nauseous. ibb and obb wandered in a little later and told me they had 'slept like dead people' and were so hungry they could 'eat a horse between two mattresses'. They were just tucking in to my breakfast when there was a rap at the door. It was Akrid Snell, one half of the Perkins & Snell series of detective fiction. He was about forty, dressed in a sharp fawn suit with a matching fedora and with a luxuriant red moustache. He was one of Jurisfiction's lawyers and had been appointed to represent me; I was still facing a charge of fiction infraction after I changed the ending of Jane Eyre.
'Hello!' he said. 'Welcome to the BookWorld!'
'Thank you. Are you well?'
'Just dandy!' he replied. 'I got Oedipus off the incest charge. Technicality, of course – he didn't know it was his mother at the time.'
'Of course,' I remarked, 'and Fagin?'
'Still due to hang, I'm afraid,' he said more sadly. 'The Gryphon is on to it – he'll find a way out, I'm sure.'
He was looking around the shabby flying boat as he spoke.
'Well!' he said at last. 'You do make some odd decisions. I've heard the latest Daphne Farquitt novel is being built just down the shelf – it's set in the eighteenth century and would be a lot more comfortable than this. Did you see the review of my latest book?'
He meant the book he was featured in, of course – Snell was fictional from the soles of his brogues to the crown of his fedora and, like most fictioneers, a little sensitive about it. I had read the review of Wax Lyrical for Death and it was pretty scathing; tact was of the essence in situations like these.
'No, I think I must have missed it.'
'Oh!' he replied. 'Well, it was really … really quite good, actually. I was glowingly praised as: "Snell is … very good … well rounded is … the phrase I would use" and the book itself was described as: "Surely the biggest piece of … 1986." There's talk of a boxed set, too. Listen, I wanted to tell you that your fiction infraction trial will probably be next week. I tried to get another postponement but Hopkins is nothing if not tenacious; place and time to be decided upon.'
'Should I be worried?' I asked, thinking about the last time I had faced a court here in the BookWorld. It had been in Kafka's The Trial and had turned out predictably unpredictable.
'Not really,' admitted Snell. 'Our "strong readership approval" defence should count for something – after all, you did actually do it, so just plain lying might not help so much after all. Listen,' he went on without stopping for breath, 'Miss Havisham asked me to introduce you to the wonders of the Well – she would have been here this morning but she's on a grammasite extermination course.'
'We saw a grammasite in Great Expectations,' I told him.
'So I heard. You can never be too careful as far as grammasites are concerned.' He looked at ibb and obb, who were just finishing off my bacon and eggs. 'Is this breakfast?'
I nodded.
'Fascinating! I've always wondered what a breakfast looked like. In our books we have twenty-three dinners, twelve lunches and eighteen afternoon teas – but no breakfasts.' He paused for a moment. 'And why is orange jam called marmalade, do you suppose?'
I told him I didn't know and passed him a mug of coffee.
'Do you have any Generics living in your books?' I asked.
'A half-dozen or so at any one time,' he replied, spooning in some sugar and staring at ibb and obb, who, true to form, stared back. 'Boring bunch until they develop a personality, then they can be quite fun. Trouble is, they have an annoying habit of assimilating themselves into a strong leading character, and it can spread among them like a rash. They used to be billeted en masse but that all changed after we lodged six thousand Generics inside Rebecca. In under a month all but eight had become Mrs Danvers. Listen, I don't suppose I could interest you in a couple of housekeepers, could I?'
'I don't think so,' I replied, recalling Mrs Danvers' slightly abrasive personality.
'Don't blame you,' replied Snell with a laugh.
'So now it's only limited numbers per novel?'
'You learn fast. We had a similar problem with Merlins. We've had aged-male-bearded-wizard-mentor types coming out of our ears for years.'
He leaned closer.
'Do you know how many Merlins the Well of Lost Plots has placed over the past fifty years?'
'Tell me.'
'Nine thousand!' he breathed. 'We even altered plot lines to include older male mentor figures! Do you think that was wrong?'
'I'm not sure,' I said, slightly confused.
'At least the Merlin type is a popular character,' added Snell. 'Stick a new hat on him and he can appear pretty much anywhere. Try getting rid of thousands of Mrs Danvers. There isn't a huge demand for creepy fifty-something housekeepers; even buy-two-get-one-free deals didn't help – we use them on anti-mispeling duty, you know. A sort of army.'
'What's it like?' I asked.
'How do you mean?'
'Being fictional.'
'Ah!' replied Snell slowly. 'Yes – fictional.'
I realised too late that I had gone too far – it was how I imagined a dog would feel if you brought up the question of distemper in polite conversation.
'I forgive your inquisitiveness, Miss Next, and since you are an Outlander I will take no offence. If I were you I shouldn't enquire too deeply about the past of fictioneers. We all aspire to be ourselves, an original character in a litany of fiction so vast that we know we cannot. After basic training at St Tabularasa's I progressed to the Dupin School for Detectives; I went on field trips around the works of Hammett, Chandler and Sayers before attending a postgraduate course at the Agatha Christie Finishing School. I would have liked to have been an original but I was born seventy years too late for that.'
He stopped and paused for reflection. I was sorry to have raised the point. It can't be easy, being an amalgamation of all that has been written before.
'Right!' he said, finishing his coffee. 'That's enough about me. Ready?'
I nodded.
'Then let's go.'
So, taking my hand, he transported us both out of Caversham Heights and into the endless corridors of the Well of Lost Plots.
The Well was similar to the Library as regards the fabric of the building – dark wood, thick carpet, tons of shelves – but here the similarity ended. Firstly, it was noisy. Tradesmen, artisans, technicians and Generics all walked about the broad corridors appearing and vanishing as they moved from book to book, building, changing and deleting to the author's wishes. Crates and packing cases lay scattered about the corridor and people ate, slept and conducted their business in shops and small houses built in the manner of an untidy shanty town. Advertising hoardings and posters were everywhere, promoting some form of goods or services unique to the business of writing.' 5
'I think I'm picking up junk footnoterphone messages, Snell,' I said above the hubbub. 'Should I be worried?'
'You get them all the time down here,' he replied. 'Ignore them – and never pass on chain footnotes.' 6
We were accosted by a stout man wearing a sandwich board advertising bespoke plot devices 'for the discerning wordsmith'.
'No thank you,' yelled Snell, taking me by the arm and walking us to a quieter spot between Dr Forthright's Chapter Ending Emporium and the Premier Mentor School.
'There are twenty-six floors in the Well,' he told me, waving a hand towards the bustling crowd. 'Most of them are chaotic factories of fictional prose like this one but the twenty-sixth sub-basement has an entrance to the Text Sea – we'll go down there and see them offloading the scrawltrawlers one evening.'
'What do they unload?'
'Words,' smiled Snell, 'words, words and more words. The building blocks of fiction, the DNA of Story.'
'But I don't see any books being written,' I observed, looking around.
He chuckled.
'You Outlanders! Books may look like nothing more than words on a page but they are actually an infinitely complex Imagino-Transference technology that translates odd inky squiggles into pictures inside your head – we're currently using Book Operating System V8.3. Not for long, though – Text Grand Central want to upgrade the system.'
'Someone mentioned UltraWord™ on the news last night,' I observed.
'Fancy-pants name. It's BOOK V9 to me and you. WordMaster Libris should be giving us a presentation shortly. UltraWord™ is being tested as we speak – if it's as good as they say it is, books will never be the same again!'
'Well,' I sighed, trying to get my head around this idea, 'I had always thought novels were just, well, written.'
'Write is only the word we use to describe the recording process,' replied Snell as we walked along. 'The Well of Lost Plots is where we interface the writer's imagination with the characters and plots so that it will make sense in the reader's mind. After all, reading is arguably a far more creative and imaginative process than writing; when the reader creates emotion in their head, or the colours of the sky during the setting sun, or the smell of a warm summer's breeze on their face, they should reserve as much praise for themselves as they do for the writer – perhaps more.'
This was a new approach; I ran the idea around in my head.
'Really?' I replied, slightly doubtfully.
'Of course!' Snell laughed. 'Surf pounding the shingle wouldn't mean diddly unless you'd seen the waves cascade on to the foreshore, or felt the breakers tremble the beach beneath your feet, now, would it?'
'I suppose not.'
'Books,' said Snell, 'are a kind of magic.'
I thought about this for a moment and looked around at the chaotic fiction factory. My husband was or is a novelist – I had always wanted to know what went on inside his head and this, I figured, was about the nearest I'd ever get. 7 We walked on, past a shop called 'A Minute Passed'. It sold descriptive devices for marking the passage of time – this week they had a special on Seasonal Changes.
'What happens to the books which are unpublished?' I asked wondering whether the characters in Caversham Heights really had so much to worry about.
'The failure rate is pretty high,' admitted Snell, 'and not just for reasons of dubious merit. Bunyan's Bootscraper by John McSquurd is one of the best books ever written but it's never been out of the author's hands. Most of the dross, rejects or otherwise unpublished just languish down here in the Well until they are broken up for salvage. Others are so bad they are just demolished – the words are pulled from the pages and tossed into the Text Sea.'
'All the characters are just recycled like waste cardboard or something?'
Snell paused and coughed politely.
'I shouldn't waste too much sympathy on the one-dimensionals, Thursday. You'll run yourself ragged and there really isn't the time or resources to recharacterise them into anything more interesting.'
'Mr Snell, sir?'
It was a young man in an expensive suit, and he carried what looked like a very stained pillowcase with something heavy in it about the size of a melon.
'Hello, Alfred!' said Snell, shaking the man's hand. 'Thursday, this is Garcia – he has been supplying the Perkins & Snell series of books with intriguing plot devices for over ten years. Remember the unidentified torso found floating in the Humber in Dead among the Living? Or the twenty-year-old corpse discovered with the bag of money bricked up in the spare room in Requiem for a Safecracker?
'Of course!' I said, shaking the technician's hand. 'Good intriguing page-turning stuff. How do you do?'
'Well, thank you,' replied Garcia, turning back to Snell after smiling politely. 'I understand the next Perkins & Snell novel is in the pipeline and I have a little something that might interest you.'
He held the bag open and we looked inside. It was a head. More importantly, a severed head.
A head in a bag?' queried Snell with a frown, looking closer.
'Indeed,' murmured Garcia proudly, 'but not any old head-in-a-bag. This one has an intriguing tattoo on the nape of the neck. You can discover it in a skip, outside your office, in a deceased suspect's deep-freeze – the possibilities are endless.'
Snell's eyes flashed excitedly. It was the sort of thing his next book needed after the critical savaging of Wax Lyrical for Death.
'How much?' he asked.
'Three hundred,' ventured Garcia.
'Three hundred?!' exclaimed Snell. 'I could buy a dozen head-in-a-bag plot devices with that and still have change for a missing Nazi gold consignment.'
Garcia laughed. 'No one's using the old "missing Nazi gold consignment" plot device any more. If you don't want the head you can pass – I can sell heads pretty much anywhere I like. I just came to you first because we've done business before and I like you.'
Snell thought for a moment.
'A hundred and fifty.'
'Two hundred.'
'One seven five.'
'Two hundred and I'll throw in a case of mistaken identity, a pretty female double agent and a missing microfilm.'
'Done!'
'Pleasure doing business with you,' said Garcia as he handed over the head and took the money in return. 'Give my regards to Mr Perkins, won't you?'
He smiled, shook hands with us both, and departed.
'Oh, boy!' exclaimed Snell, excited as a kid with a new bicycle. 'Wait until Perkins sees this! Where do you think we should find it?'
I thought in all honesty that 'head-in-a-bag' plot devices were a bit lame, but being too polite to say so, I said instead:
'I liked the deep-freeze idea, myself.'
'Me too!' he enthused as we passed a small shop whose painted headboard read: Backstories built to order. No job too difficult. Painful childhoods a speciality.
'Backstories?'
'Sure. Every character worth their salt has a backstory. Come on in and have a look.'
We stooped and entered the low doorway. The interior was a workshop, small and smoky. There was a workbench in the middle of the room liberally piled with glass retorts, test tubes and other chemical apparatus; the walls, I noticed, were lined with shelves that held tightly stoppered bottles containing small amounts of colourful liquids, all with labels describing varying styles of backstory, from one named idyllic childhood to another entitled valiant war record.
'This one's nearly empty,' I observed, pointing to a large bottle with: Misguided feelings of guilt over the death of a loved one/partner ten years previously written on the label.
'Yes,' said a small man in a corduroy suit so lumpy it looked as though the tailor was still inside doing alterations, 'that one's been quite popular recently. Some are hardly used at all. Look above you.'
I looked up at the full bottles gathering dust on the shelves above. One was labelled Studied squid in Sri Lanka and another Apprentice Welsh mole-catcher.
'So what can I do for you?' enquired the backstoryist, gazing at us happily and rubbing his hands. 'Something for the lady? Ill-treatment at the hands of sadistic stepsisters? Traumatic incident with a wild animal? No? We've got a deal this week on unhappy love affairs; buy one and you get a younger brother with a drug problem at no extra charge.'
Snell showed the merchant his Jurisfiction badge.
'Business call, Mr Grnksghty – this is apprentice Next.'
'Ah!' he said, deflating slightly. 'The law.'
'Mr Grnksghty here used to write backstories for the Brontës and Thomas Hardy,' explained Snell, placing his bag on the floor and sitting on a table edge.
'Ah, yes!' replied the man, gazing at me over the top of a pair of half-moon spectacles. 'But that was a long time ago. Charlotte Brontës, now she was a writer. A lot of good work for her, some of it barely used—'
'Yes, speaking,' interrupted Snell, staring vacantly at the array of glassware on the table. 'I'm with Thursday down in the Well … What's up?'
He noticed us both staring at him and explained:
'Footnoterphone. It's Miss Havisham.'
'It's so rude,' muttered Mr Grnksghty. 'Why can't he go outside if he wants to talk on one of those things?'
'It's probably nothing but I'll go and have a look,' said Snell, staring into space. He turned to look at us, saw Mr Grnksghty glaring at him and waved absently before going outside the shop, still talking.
'Where were we, young lady?'
'You were talking about Charlotte Brontë ordering backstories and then not using them.'
'Oh, yes.' The man smiled, delicately turning a tap on the apparatus and watching a small drip of an oily coloured liquid fall into a flask. 'I made the most wonderful backstory for both Edward and Bertha Rochester, but do you know she only used a very small part of it?'
'That must have been very disappointing.'
'It was.' He sighed. 'I am an artist, not a technician. But it didn't matter. I sold it lock, stock and barrel a few years back to The Wide Sargasso Sea. Harry Flashman from Tom Brown's Schooldays went the same way. I had Mr Pickwick's backstory for years but couldn't make a sale – I donated it to the Jurisfiction museum.'
'What do you make a backstory out of, Mr Grnksghty?' ,
'Treacle, mainly,' he replied, shaking the flask and watching the oily substance change to a gas, 'and memories. Lots of memories. In fact, the treacle is really only there as a binding agent. Tell me, what do you think of this upgrade to Ultra Word™?'
'I have yet to hear about it properly,' I admitted.
'I particularly like the idea of ReadZip™,' mused the small man, adding a drop of red liquid and watching the result with great interest. 'They say they will be able to crush War and Peace into eighty-six words and still retain the scope and grandeur of the original.'
'Seeing is believing,' I replied.
'Not down here,' Mr Grnksghty corrected me. 'Down here, reading is believing.'
There was a pause as I took this in.
'Mr Grnksghty?'
'How do you pronounce your name?'
At that moment Snell strolled back in.
'That was Miss Havisham,' he announced, retrieving his head. 'Thank you for your time, Mr Grnksghty – come on, we're off.'
Snell led me down the corridor past more shops and traders until we arrived at the bronze-and-wood elevators. The doors opened and several small street urchins ran out holding cleft sticks with a small scrap of paper wedged in them.
'Ideas on their way to the books-in-progress,' explained Snell as we stepped into the elevator. 'Trading must have just started. You'll find the Idea Sales and Loan department on the seventeenth floor.'
The elevator plunged rapidly downwards.
'Are you still being bothered by junk footnoterphones?'
'A little.' 8
'You'll get used to ignoring them.'
The bell sounded and the elevator doors slid open, introducing a chill wind. It was darker than the floor we had just visited and several disreputable-looking characters stared at us from the shadows. I moved to get out but Snell stopped me. He looked about and whispered:
'This is the twenty-second sub-basement. The roughest place in the Well. A haven for cut-throats, bounty hunters, murderers, thieves, cheats, shape-shifters, scene-stealers, brigands and plagiarists.'
'We don't tolerate these sorts of places back home,' I murmured.
'We encourage them here,' explained Snell. 'Fiction wouldn't be much fun without its fair share of scoundrels, and they have to live somewhere.'
I could feel the menace as soon as we stepped from the elevator.
Low mutters were exchanged among several hooded figures who stood close by, the faces obscured by the shadows, their hands bony and white. We walked past two large cats with eyes that seemed to dance with fire; they stared at us hungrily and licked their lips.
'Dinner,' said one, looking us both up and down. 'Shall we eat them together or one by one?'
'One by one,' said the second cat, who was slightly bigger and a good deal more fearsome, 'but we'd better wait until Big Martin gets here.'
'Oh yeah,' said the first cat, retracting his claws quickly, 'so we'd better.'
Snell had ignored the two cats completely; he glanced at his watch and said:
'We're going to the Slaughtered Lamb to visit a contact of mine. Someone has been cobbling together Plot Devices from half-damaged units that should have been condemned. It's not only illegal – it's dangerous. The last thing anyone needs is a Do we cut the red wire or the blue wire? plot device going off an hour too early and ruining the suspense – how many stories have you read where the bomb is defused with an hour to go?'
'Not many, I suppose.'
'You suppose right. We're here.'
The gloomy interior of the Slaughtened Lamb was shabby and smelt of beer. Three ceiling fans stirred the smoke-filled atmosphere and a band was playing a melancholy tune in one corner. The dark walls were spaced with individual booths where sombreness was an abundant commodity; the bar in the centre seemed to be the lightest place in the room and gathered there, like moths to a light, were an odd collection of people and creatures, all chatting and talking in low voices. The atmosphere in the room was so thick with dramatic cliches you could have cut it with a knife.
'See over there?' said Snell, indicating two men who were deep in conversation.
'Yes.'
'Mr Hyde talking to Blofeld. In the next booth are Von Stalhein and Wackford Squeers. The tall guy in the cloak is Emperor Zhark, tyrannical ruler of the known galaxy. The one with the spines is Mrs Tiggy-winkle – they'll be on a training assignment, just like us.'
'Mrs Tiggy-winkle is an apprentice?' I asked incredulously, staring at the large hedgehog who was holding a basket of laundry and sipping delicately at a dry sherry.
'No; Zhark is the apprentice – Tiggy's a full agent. She deals with children's fiction, runs the Hedge-pigs Society – and does our washing.'
'Hedge-pigs society?' I echoed. 'What does that do?'
'They advance hedgehogs in all branches of literature. Mrs Tiggy-winkle was the first to get star billing and she's used her position to further the lot of her species; she's got references into Kipling, Carroll, Aesop and four mentions in Shakespeare. She's also good with really stubborn stains – and never singes the cuffs.'
'Tempest, Midsummer Night's Dream, Macbeth,' I muttered, counting them off on my fingers. 'Where's the fourth?'
'Henry VI Part 1, act four, scene 1: "hedge-born swaine".'
'I always thought that was an insult, not a hedgehog,' I observed. 'Swaine can be a country lad just as easily as a pig — perhaps more so.'
Snell sighed. 'Well, we've given her the benefit of the doubt – it helps with the indignity of being used as a croquet ball in Alice. Don't mention Tolstoy or Berlin when she's about, either – conversation with Tiggy is easier when you avoid talk of theoretical sociological divisions and stick to the question of washing temperatures for woollens.'
'I'll remember that,' I murmured. 'The bar doesn't look so bad with all those pot plants scattered around, does it?'
Snell sighed again.
'They're Triffids, Thursday. The big blobby thing practising golf swings with the Jabberwock is a Krell, and that rhino over there is Rataxis. Arrest anyone who tries to sell you Soma tablets, don't buy any Bottle Imps no matter how good the bargain, and above all don't look at Medusa. If Big Martin or the Questing Beast turn up, run like hell. Get me a drink and I'll see you back here in five minutes.'
'Right.'
He departed into the gloom and I was left feeling a bit ill at ease. I made my way to the bar and ordered two drinks. On the other side of the bar a third cat had joined the two I had seen previously. The newcomer pointed to me but the others shook their heads and whispered something in his ear. I turned the other way and jumped in surprise as I came face to face with a curious creature that looked as though it had escaped from a bad science fiction novel – it was all tentacles and eyes. A smile may have flicked across my face because the creature said in a harsh tone:
'What's the problem, never seen a Thraal before?'
I didn't understand; it sounded like a form of Courier Bold but I wasn't sure so said nothing, hoping to brazen it out.
'Hey!' it said. 'I'm talking to you, Two-eyes.'
The altercation had attracted another man, who looked like the product of some bizarre genetic experiment gone hopelessly wrong.
'He says he doesn't like you.'
'I'm sorry.'
'I don't like you either,' said the man in a threatening tone, adding, as if I needed proof: 'I have the death sentence in seven genres.'
'I'm sorry to hear that,' I assured him, but this didn't seem to work.
'You're the one who'll be sorry!'
'Come, come, Nigel,' said a voice I recognised. 'Let me buy you a drink.'
This wasn't to the genetic experiment's liking, for he moved quickly to his weapon; there was a sudden blur of movement and in an instant I had my automatic pressed hard against his head – Nigel's gun was still in his shoulder holster. The bar went quiet.
'You're quick, girlie,' said Nigel. 'I respect that.'
'She's with me,' said the newcomer. 'Let's all just calm down.'
I lowered my gun and replaced the safety catch. Nigel nodded respectfully and returned to his place at the bar with the odd-looking alien.
'Are you all right?'
It was Harris Tweed. He was a fellow Jurisfiction agent and Outlander, just like me. The last time I had seen him was three days ago in Lord Volescamper's library when we flushed out the renegade fictioneer Yorrick Kaine after he had invoked the Questing Beast to destroy us. Tweed had been carried off by the exuberant bark of a bookhound and I had not seen him since.
'Thanks for that, Tweed,' I said. 'What did the alien thing want?'
'He was a Thraal, Thursday – speaking in Courier Bold, the traditional language of the Well. Thraals are not only all eyes and tentacles, but mostly mouth, too – he'd not have harmed you. Nigel, on the other hand, has been known to go a step too far on occasion. What are you doing alone in the twenty-second sub-basement anyway?'
'I'm not alone. Havisham's busy so Snell's showing me around.'
'Ah,' replied Tweed, looking about. 'Does this mean you're taking your entrance exams?'
'Third of the way through the written already. Did you track down Kaine?'
'No. We went all the way to London, where we lost the scent. Bookhounds don't work so well in the Outland and besides, we have to get special permission to pursue PageRunners into the real world.'
'What does the Bellman say about that?'
'He's for it, of course,' replied Tweed, 'but the launch of UltraWord™ has dominated the Council of Genre's discussion time. We'll get round to Kaine in due course.'
I was glad of this; Kaine wasn't only an escapee from fiction but a dangerous right-wing politician back home. I would be only too happy to see him back inside whatever book he'd escaped from – permanently.
At that moment Snell returned and nodded a greeting to Tweed, who returned it politely.
'Good morning, Mr Tweed,' said Snell. 'Will you join us for a drink?'
'Sadly, I cannot,' replied Tweed. 'I'll see you tomorrow morning at roll-call, yes?'
'Odd sort of fellow,' remarked Snell as soon as Tweed had left. 'What was he doing here?'
I handed Snell his drink and we sat down in an empty booth. It was near the three cats and they stared at us hungrily while consulting a large recipe book.
'I had a bit of trouble at the bar and Tweed stepped in to help.'
'Good thing, too. Ever see one of these?'
He rolled a small globe across the table and I picked it up. It was a little like a Christmas decoration but a lot more sturdy. There was a small legend complete with a barcode and ID number printed on the side.
'Suddenly, a Shot Rang Out! FAD/167945,' I read aloud. 'What does it mean?'
'It's a stolen freeze-dried Plot Device. Crack it open and pow! – the story goes off at a tangent.'
'How do we know it's stolen?'
'It doesn't have a Council of Genres seal of approval. Without one, these things are worthless. Log it as evidence when you get back to the office.'
He took a sip of his drink, coughed and stared into the glass.
'W-what is this?'
'I'm not sure but mine is just as bad.'
'Not possible. Hello, Emperor, have you met Thursday-Next? Thursday, this is Emperor Zhark.'
There was a tall man swathed in a high-collared cloak standing next to our table. He had a pale complexion, high cheekbones and a small and very precise goatee. He looked at me with cold dark eyes and raised an eyebrow imperiously.
'Greetings,' he intoned indifferently. 'You must send my regards to Miss Havisham. Snell, how is my defence looking?'
'Not too good, Your Mercilessness,' he replied. 'Annihilating all the planets in the Cygnus cluster might not have been a very good move.'
'It's those bloody Rambosians,' Zhark said angrily. 'They threatened my empire. If I didn't destroy entire star systems no one would have any respect for me; it's for the good of galactic peace, you know – stability, and anyway, what's the point in possessing a devastatingly destructive death-ray if you can't use it?'
'Well, I should keep that to yourself. Can't you claim you were cleaning it when it went off or something?'
'I suppose,' said Zhark grudgingly. 'Is there a head in that bag?'
'Yes,' replied Snell. 'Do you want to have a look?'
'No thanks. Special offer, yes?'
'What?'
'Special offer. You know, clearance sale. How much did you pay for it?'
'Only a … hundred,' he said, glancing at me. 'Less than that, actually.'
'You were done.' Zhark laughed. 'They're forty a half-dozen at CrimeScene, Inc. – with double stamps, too.'
Snell's face flushed with anger and he jumped up.
'The little scumbag!' he spat. 'I'll have him in a bag when I see him again!'
He turned to me.
'Will you be all right getting out on your own?'
'Sure.'
'Good,' he replied through gritted teeth. 'See you later!'
'Hold it!' I said, but it was too late. He had vanished.
'Problems?' asked Zhark.
'No,' I replied slowly, holding up the dirty pillowcase. 'He just forgot his head – and careful, Emperor, there's a Triffid creeping up behind you.'
Zhark turned to face the Triffid, who stopped, thought better of an attack and rejoined his friends, who were cooling their roots at the bar.
Zhark departed and I looked around. On the next table a fourth cat had joined the other three. It was bigger than the others and considerably more battle scarred – it had only one eye and both ears had large bites taken out of them. They all licked their lips as the newest cat said in a low voice: 'Shall we eat her?'
'Not yet,' replied the first cat, 'we're waiting for Big Martin.'
They returned to their drinks but never took their eyes off me. I could imagine how a mouse felt. After ten minutes I decided that I was not going to be intimidated by outsize house pets and got up to leave, taking Snell's head with me. The cats got up and followed me out, down the dingy corridor. Here the shops sold weapons, dastardly plans for world domination and fresh ideas for murder, revenge, extortion and other general mayhem. Generics, I noticed, could just as early be trained in the dark art of being an accomplished evildoer. The cats yowled excitedly and I quickened my step, only to stumble into a clearing among the shanty town of wooden buildings. The reason for the clearing was obvious. Sitting atop an old packing case was another cat. But this one was different. No oversized house cat, this beast was four times the size of a tiger, and it stared at me with ill-disguised malevolence. Its claws were extended and fangs at the ready, glistening slightly with hungry anticipation. I stopped and looked behind me to where the four other cats had lined up and were staring at me expectantly, tails gently lashing the air. A quick glance around the corridor revealed that there was no one near who might offer me any assistance; indeed, most of the bystanders seemed to be getting ready for something of a show. I pulled out my automatic as one of the cats bounded up to the newcomer and said:
'Can we eat her now, please?'
The large cat placed one of its claws in the packing case and drew it through the wood like a razor-sharp chisel cutting through soft clay; it stared at me with huge green eyes and said in a deep rumbling voice:
'Shouldn't we wait until Big Martin gets here?'
'Yes,' sighed the smaller cat with a strong air of disappointment, 'perhaps we should.'
Suddenly, the big cat pricked up his ears and jumped from his box into the shadows; I pointed my gun but it wasn't attacking – the overgrown tiger was departing in a panic. The other cats quickly left the scene and pretty soon the bystanders had gone, too. Within a few moments I was completely alone in the corridor, with nothing to keep me company but the rapid thumping of my own heart, and a head in a bag.
6
Night of the grammasites
'Grammasite: Generic term for a parasitic life form that lives inside books and feeds on grammar. Technically known as Gerunds or Ingers, they were an early attempt to transform nouns (which were plentiful) into verbs (which at the time were not) by simply attaching an 'ing'. A dismal failure at verb resource management, they escaped from captivity and now roam freely in the sub-basements. Although thankfully quite rare in the Library itself, isolated pockets of grammasites are still found from time to time and dealt with mercilessly.'
UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
I turned, and walked quickly towards the elevators, a strong feeling of impending oddness raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I pressed the 'call' button but nothing happened; I quickly dashed across the corridor and tried the second bank of elevators but with no more success. I was just thinking of running to the stairwell when I heard a noise. It was a distant low moan that was quite unlike any other sort of low moan that I had ever heard, nor would ever want to hear again. I put down the head-in-a-bag as my palms grew sweaty, and although I told myself I was calm, I pressed the call button several more times and reached for my automatic as a shape hove into view from the depths of the corridor. It was flying close to the bookshelves and was something like a bat, something like a lizard and something like a vulture. Covered in patchy grey fur, it was wearing stripy socks and a brightly coloured waistcoat of questionable taste. I had seen this sort of thing before; it was a grammasite, and although dissimilar to the adjectivore I had seen in Great Expectations, I imagined it could do just as much harm – it was little wonder that the residents of the Well had locked themselves away. The grammasite swept past in a flash without noticing me and was soon gone with a rumble like distant artillery. I relaxed slightly, expecting to see the Well spring back into life, but nothing stirred. Far away in the distance, beyond the Slaughtered Lamb, an excited burble reached my straining ears. I pressed the call button again as the noise grew louder and a slight breeze draughted against my face, like the oily zephyr that precedes an underground train. I shuddered. Where I came from a Browning automatic spoke volumes, but how it would work on a grammar-sucking parasite I had no idea – and I didn't think this would be a good time to find out. I was preparing myself to run when there was a melodious 'bing', the call button light came on and one of the elevator pointers started to move slowly towards my floor. I ran across and leaned with my back against the doors, releasing the safety catch on my automatic as the wind and noise increased. By the time the elevator was four floors away the first grammasites had arrived. They looked around the corridor as they flew, sniffing at books with their long snouts and giving off excited squeaks. This was the advance guard. A few seconds later the main flock arrived with a deafening roar. One or two of them poked at books until they fell off the shelves, while other grammasites fell upon the unfinished manuscripts with an excited cry. There was a scuffle as a character burst from a page, only to be impaled by a grammasite who reduced the unfortunate wretch to a few explanatory phrases which were then eaten by scavengers waiting on the sidelines. I had seen enough. I opened fire and straight away got three of them who were devoured in turn by the same scavengers – clearly there was little honour or sense of loss among grammasites; their compatriots merely shuffled into the gaps left by their fallen comrades. I picked off two who were scrabbling at the bookcases attempting to dislodge more books and then turned away to reload. As I did so, another eerie silence filled the corridor. I released the slide on my automatic and looked up. About a hundred or so grammasites were staring at me with their small black eyes, and it wasn't a look that I'd describe as anywhere near friendly. I sighed. What a way to go. I could see my headstone now:
THURSDAY NEXT
to someone who doesn't exist
Killed for no adequately explained reason
in an abstract place by an abstract foe
I raised my gun and the grammasites shuffled slightly, as though deciding among themselves who would be sacrificed in order for them to overpower me. I pointed the gun at whichever one started to move, hoping to postpone the inevitable. The one who seemed to be the leader – he had the brightest-coloured waistcoat, I noted – took a step forward and I pointed my gun at him as another grammasite seized the opportunity and made a sudden leap towards me, its sharpened beak heading straight for my chest. I whirled around in time to see its small black eyes twinkle with a thousand well-digested verbs as a hand on my shoulder pulled me roughly backwards into the elevator. The grammasite, carried on by its own momentum, buried its beak into the wood surround. I reached to thump the close button but my wrist was deftly caught by my as yet unseen saviour.
'We never run from grammasites.'
It was a scolding tone of voice that I knew only too well. Miss Havisham. Dressed in her rotting wedding dress and veil, she stared at me with despair. I think I was one of the worst apprentices she had ever trained – or that was the way she made me feel, at any rate.
'We have nothing to fear except fear itself,' she intoned, whipping out her pocket derringer and dispatching two grammasites who made a rush at the elevator's open door. 'I seem to spend my waking hours extricating you from the soup, my girl!'
The grammasites were slowly advancing on us; they were now at least three hundred strong and others were joining them. We were heavily outnumbered.
'I'm sorry,' I replied quickly, curtsying just in case as I loosed off another shot, 'but don't you think we should be departing?'
'I fear only the Questing Beast,' announced Havisham imperiously. 'The Questing beast, Big Martin … and semolina.'
She shot another grammasite with a particularly fruity waistcoat and carried on talking. 'If you had troubled to do some homework you would know that these are Verbisoids and probably the easiest grammasite to vanquish of them all.'
And almost without pausing for breath, Miss Havisham launched into a very croaky and out-of-tune rendition of 'Jerusalem'. The grammasites stopped abruptly and stared at one another. By the time I had joined her at the holy lamb of God line they had begun to back away in fright. We sang louder, Miss Havisham and I, and by dark satanic mills they had started to take flight; by the time we had got to bring me my chariot of fire they had departed completely.
'Quick!' said Miss Havisham. 'Grab the waistcoats – there's a bounty on each one.'
We gathered up the waistcoats from the fallen grammasites; it was not a pleasant job – the corpses smelt so strongly of ink that it made me cough. The carcasses would be taken away by a verminator who would boil down the bodies and distil off any verbs he could. In the Well, nothing is wasted.
'What were the smaller ones?'
'I forget,' replied Havisham, tying the waistcoats into a bundle. 'Here, you're going to need this. Study it well if you want to pass your exams.'
She handed me my TravelBook, the one that Goliath had taken; within its pages were almost all the tips and equipment I needed for travel within the BookWorld.
'How did you manage that?'
Miss Havisham didn't answer. She snorted and pulled me towards the elevator again. It was clear that the twenty-second sub-basement wasn't a place she liked to be. I couldn't say I blamed her.
Miss Havisham relaxed visibly as we rose from the sub-basements and into the more ordered nature of the Library itself.
'Why do grammasites wear stripy socks?' I asked, looking at the bundle of garments on the floor.
'Probably because spotted ones are out of fashion,' she replied with a shrug, reloading her pistol. 'What's in the bag?'
'Oh, some – er – shopping of Snell's.'
Miss Havisham was a bit like a strict parent, your worst teacher and a newly appointed South American dictator all rolled into one. Which wasn't to say I didn't like her or respect her – it was just that I felt I was still nine whenever she spoke to me.
'So why did we sing "Jerusalem" to get rid of them?'
'As I said, those grammasites were Verbisoids,' she replied without looking up, 'and a Verbisoid, in common with many language students, hates and fears irregular verbs — they much prefer consuming regularverbs with the "ed" word endings. Strong irregulars such as "to sing" with their internal vowel changes – we will sing, we sang, we have sung — tend to scramble their tiny minds.'
'Any irregular verb frightens them off?' I asked with interest.
'Pretty much; but some irregulars are more easy to demonstrate than others – we could cut, I suppose, or even be, but then the proceedings change into something akin to a desperate game of charades – far easier to just sing and have done 'with it.'
'What about if we were to go? I ventured, thinking practically for once. 'There can't be anything more irregular than go, went, gone, can there?'
'Because,' replied Miss Havisham, her patience eroding by the second, 'they might misconstrue it as walked — note the "ed" ending?'
'Not if we ran," I added, not wanting to let this go, 'that's irregular, too.'
Miss Havisham stared at me icily.
'Of course we could. But ran might be seen in the eyes of a hungry Verbisoid to be either trotted, galloped, raced, rushed, hurried, hastened, sprinted or even departed.'
'Ah,' I said, realising that catching Miss Havisham out was about as likely as nailing Banquo's ghost to a coffee table, 'yes, it might, mightn't it?'
'Look,' said Miss Havisham, softening slightly, 'if running away killed grammasites there wouldn't be a single one left. Stick to "Jerusalem" and you won't go far wrong – just don't try it with adjectivores or the parataxis; they'd probably join in – and then eat you.'
The elevator stopped on the eleventh sub-basement, the doors opened and a large Painted Jaguar got in with her son, who had a paddy-paw full of prickles and was complaining bitterly that he had been tricked by a hedgehog and a tortoise, who had both escaped. The Mother Jaguar shook her head sadly, looked to heaven in exasperation and then turned to her son.
'Son, son,' she said, ever so many times, graciously waving her tail, 'what have you been doing that you shouldn't have?'
'So,' said Miss Havisham as the elevator moved off again, 'how are you getting along in that frightful Caversham Heights book?'
'Well, thank you, Miss Havisham,' I muttered, 'the people in it are worried that their book will be demolished from under their feet.'
'With good reason,' replied Havisham. 'I've read it. Hundreds of books like Heights are demolished every day. If you stopped to waste any sympathy, you'd go nuts – so don't. It's man eat man in the Well. I'd keep yourself to yourself and don't make too many friends – they have a habit of dying just when you get to like them. It always happens that way. It's a narrative thing.'
'Heights isn't a bad place to live,' I ventured, hoping to elicit a bit of compassion.
'Doubtless,' she murmured, staring off into the middle distance. 'I remember when I was in the Well, when they were building Great Expectations. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world when they told me I would be working with Charles Dickens. Top of my class at Generic College and, without wanting to seem immodest, something of a beauty. I thought I would make an admirable young Estella – both refined and beautiful, haughty and proud, yet ultimately overcoming the overbearing crabbiness of her cantankerous benefactor to find true love.'
'So … what happened?'
'I wasn't tall enough.'
'Tall enough? For a book? Isn't that like having the wrong hair colour for the wireless?'
'They gave the part to a little strumpet who was on salvage from a demolished Thackeray. Little cow. It's no wonder I treat her so rotten – the part should have been mine!'
She fell into silence.
'Let me get this straight,' said the Painted Jaguar, who was having a bit of trouble telling the difference between a hedgehog and a tortoise, 'if it's slow-and-solid I drop him in the water and then scoop him out of his shell—'
'Son, son!' said his mother, ever so many times, graciously waving her tail, 'now attend to me and remember what I say. A hedgehog curls himself up into a ball and his prickles stick out every way—'
'Did you get the Jurisfiction exam papers I sent you?' asked Miss Havisham. 'I've got your practical booked for the day after tomorrow.'
'Oh!' I said.
'Problems?' she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
'No, ma'am, I just feel a bit unprepared – I think I might make a pig's ear of it.'
'I disagree,' she replied, staring at the floor indicator. 'I know you'll make a pig's ear of it. But wheels within wheels. All I ask is you don't make a fool of yourself or lose your life – now that would be awkward.'
'So,' said the Painted Jaguar, rubbing his head, 'if it can roll itself into a ball it must be a tortoise and—'
'AHHH!' cried the Mother Jaguar, lashing her tail angrily. 'Completely wrong. Miss Havisham, what am I to do with this boy?'
'I have no idea,' she replied. 'All men are dolts, from where I'm standing.'
The Painted Jaguar looked crestfallen and stared at the floor.
'Can I make a suggestion?' I asked.
'Anything!' replied the Mother Jaguar.
'If you make a rhyme out of it he might be able to remember.'
The Mother Jaguar sighed.
'It won't help. Yesterday he forgot he was a Painted Jaguar. He makes my spots ache, really he does.'
'How about this?' I said, making up a rhyme on the spot:
'Can't curl, but can swim –
Slow-Solid, that's him!
Curls up, but can't swim –
Stickly-Prickly, that's him!'
The Mother Jaguar stopped lashing her tail and asked me to write it down. She was still trying to get her son to remember it when the elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and we got out.
'I thought we were going to the Jurisfiction offices?' I said as we walked along the corridors of the Great Library, the wooden shelves groaning under the weight of the collected imaginative outpourings of nearly two millennia.
'The next roll-call is tomorrow,' she replied, stopping at a shelf and dropping the grammasites' waistcoats into a heap before picking out a roughly bound manuscript, 'and I told Perkins you'd help him feed the minotaur.'
'You did?' I asked, slightly apprehensively.
'Of course. Fictionalzoology is a fascinating subject and, believe me, it's an area about which you should know more.'
She handed me the book which, I noticed, was hand-written.
'It's codeword protected,' announced Havisham, 'mumble Sapphire before you read yourself in.'
She gathered up the waistcoats again.
'I'll pick you up in about an hour. Perkins will be waiting for you on the other side. Please pay attention and don't let him talk you into looking after any rabbits. Don't forget the password – you'll not get in or out without it.'
'Sapphire,' I repeated.
'Very good,' she said, and vanished.
I placed the book on one of the reading desks and sat down. The marble busts of writers that dotted the Library seemed to glare at me and I was just about to start reading when I noticed, high up on the shelf opposite, an ethereal form that was coalescing, wraith-like, in front of my eyes. At home this might be considered a matter of great pith and moment, but here it was merely the Cheshire Cat making one of his celebrated appearances.
'Hello!' he said as soon as his mouth had appeared. 'How are you getting along?'
The Cheshire Cat was the librarian and the first person I had met in the BookWorld. With a penchant for non sequiturs and obtuse comments, it was hard not to like him.
'I'm not sure,' I replied. 'I was attacked by grammasites, threatened by Big Martin's friends and a Thraal. I've got two Generics billeted with me, the characters in Caversham Heights think I can save their book and right now I have to give the minotaur his breakfast.'
'Nothing remarkable there. Anything else?'
'How long have you got?' 9
I tapped my ears.
'Problems?'
'I can hear two Russians gossiping, right here inside my head.'
'Probably a crossed footnoterphone line,' replied the Cat. He jumped down, pressed his soft head against mine and listened intently.
'Can you hear them?' I asked after a bit.
'Not at all,' replied the Cat, 'but you do have very warm ears. Do you like Chinese food?'
'Yes, please,' I replied; I hadn't eaten for a while.
'Me too,' mused the Cat. 'Shame there isn't any. What's in the bag?'
'Something of Snell's.'
'Ah. What do you think of this UltraWord™ lark?'
'I'm really not sure,' I replied, truthfully enough, 'how about you?'
'How about me what?'
'What do you think of the new operating system?'
'When it comes in I shall give it my fullest attention,' he said ambiguously, adding: 'It's a laugh, isn't it?'
'What is?'
'That noise you make at the back of your throat when you hear something funny. Let me know if you need anything. 'Bye.'
And he very slowly faded out, from the tip of his tail to the tip of his nose. His grin, as usual, stayed for some time after the rest of him had gone.
I turned back to the book, murmured 'sapphire' and read the first paragraph aloud.
7
c/o Perkins & Snell Detective Series
Induction date:
September 1957
'Notes: Perkins joined the service and has shown exemplary conduct throughout his service career. After signing up for a twenty-year tour of duty, he extended that to another tour in 1977. After five years heading the mispeling Protection Squad, he was transferred to grammasite inspection & eradication, and in 1983 took over leadership of the grammasite research facility.'
Entry from Jurisfiction Service Record (abridged)
I found myself in a large meadow next to a babbling brook; willows and larches hung over the crystal-clear waters while mature oaks punctuated the land. It was warm and dry and quite delightful – like a perfect summer's day in England, in fact – and I suddenly felt quite homesick.
'I used to look at the view a lot,' said a voice close at hand. 'Don't seem to have the time, these days.'
I turned to see a tall man leaning against a silver birch, holding a copy of the Jurisfiction trade paper, Movable Type. I recognised him although we had never been introduced. It was Perkins, who partnered Snell at Jurisfiction, much as they did in the Perkins & Snell series of detective novels.
'Hello,' he said, proffering a hand and smiling broadly, 'put it there. Perkins is the name. Akrid tells me you sorted Hopkins out good and proper.'
'Thank you,' I replied. 'Akrid's very kind but it isn't over yet.'
He cast an arm towards the horizon.
'What do you think?'
I looked at the view. High snow-capped mountains rose in the distance above a green and verdant plain. At the foot of the hills were forests, and a large river wended its way through the valley.
'Beautiful.'
'We requisitioned it from the fantasy division of the Well of Lost Plots. It's a complete world in itself, written for a sword and sorcery novel entitled The Sword of the Zenobians. Beyond the mountains are icy wastes, deep fjords and relics of long-forgotten civilisations, castles, that sort of stuff. It was auctioned off when the book was abandoned. There were no characters or events written in, which was a shame – considering the work he did on the world itself, this might have been a bestseller. Still, the Outland's loss is our gain. We use it to keep grammasites and other weird beasts who for one reason or another can't live safely within their own books.'
'Sanctuary?'
'Yes – and also for study and containment – hence the password.'
'There seem to be an awful lot of rabbits,' I observed, looking around.
'Ah, yes,' replied Perkins, crossing an arched stone bridge that spanned the small stream, 'we never did get the lid on reproduction within Watership Down — if left to their own devices, the book would be so full of dandelion-munching lagomorphs that every other word would be "rabbit" within a year. Still, Lennie enjoys it here when he has some time off.'
We walked up a path towards a ruined castle. Grass covered the mounds of masonry that had collapsed from the curtain wall, and the wood of the drawbridge had rotted and fallen into a moat now dry and full of brambles. Above us, what appeared to be ravens circled the highest of the remaining towers.
'Not birds,' said Perkins, handing me a pair of binoculars. 'Have a look.'
I peered up at the circling creatures who were soaring on large wings of stretched skin.
'Parenthiums?'
'Very good. I have six breeding pairs here – purely for research, I hasten to add. Most books can easily support forty or so with no ill effects – it's just when the numbers get out of hand that we have to take action. A swarm of grammasites can be pretty devastating.'
'I know,' I replied, 'I was almost—'
'Watch out!'
He pushed me aside as a lump of excrement splattered on to the ground near where I had been standing. I looked up at the battlements and saw a man-beast covered in coarse dark hair who glared down at us and made a strangled cry in the back of his throat.
'Yahoos,' explained Perkins with disdain. 'They're not terribly well behaved and quite beyond training.'
'From Gulliver's Travels'?'
'Bingo. When truly original works like Jonathan Swift's are made into new books characters are often duplicated for evaluation and consultative purposes. Characters can be retrained but creatures usually end up here. Yahoos are not exactly a favourite of mine but they're harmless enough, so the best thing to do is ignore them.'
We walked quickly under the keep to avoid any other possible missiles and entered the inner bailey, where a pair of centaurs were grazing peacefully. They looked up at us, smiled, waved and carried on eating. I noticed that one of them was listening to a Walkman.
'You have centaurs here?'
'And satyrs, troglodytes, chimeras, elves, fairies, dryads, sirens, Martians, leprechauns, goblins, harpies, aliens, Daleks, trolls – you name it.' Perkins smiled. 'A large proportion of unpublished novels are in the fantasy genre, and most of them feature mythical beasts. Whenever one of those books gets demolished I can usually be found down at the salvage yard. It would be a shame to reduce them to text now, wouldn't it?'
'Do you have unicorns?' I asked.
'Yes.' Perkins sighed. 'Sack-loads. More than I know what to do with. I wish potential writers would be more responsible with their creations. I can understand children writing about them, but adults should know better. Every unicorn in every demolished story ends up here. I had this idea for a bumper sticker. "A unicorn isn't for page twenty-seven, it's for eternity." What do you think?'
'I think you won't be able to stop people writing about them. How about taking the horn off and seeking placement in pony books?'
'I'll pretend I didn't hear that,' replied Perkins stonily, adding: 'We have dragons, too. We can hear them sometimes, at night when the wind is in the right direction. When – or if – Pellinore captures the Questing Beast it will come to live here. Somewhere a long way away, I hope. Careful – don't tread in the orc shit. You're an Outlander, aren't you?'
'Born and bred.'
'Has anyone realised that platypuses and sea horses are fictional?'
'Are they?'
'Of course – you don't think anything that weird could have evolved by chance, do you? By the way, how do you like Miss Havisham?'
'I like her a great deal.'
'So do we all. I think she quite likes us, too, but she'd never admit it.'
We had arrived at the inner keep and Perkins pushed open the door. Inside was his office and laboratory. One wall was covered with glass jars filled with odd creatures of all shapes and sizes, and on the table was a partially dissected grammasite. Within its gut were words in the process of being digested into letters.
'I'm not really sure how they do it,' said Perkins, prodding at the carcass with a spoon. 'Have you met Mathias?'
I looked around but could see nothing but a large chestnut horse whose flanks shone in the light. The horse looked at me and I looked at the horse, then past the horse – but there was no one else in the room. The penny dropped.
'Good morning, Mathias,' I said as politely as I could. 'I'm Thursday Next.'
Perkins laughed out loud and the horse brayed and replied in a very deep voice:
'Delighted to make your acquaintance, madam. Permit me to join you in a few moments?'
I agreed and the horse returned to what I now saw were some complicated notes it was writing in a ledger open on the floor. Every now and then it paused and dipped the quill that was attached to its hoof into an inkpot and wrote in a large copperplate script.
'A Houyhnhnm?' I asked. 'Also from Gulliver's Travels?'
Perkins nodded. 'Mathias, his mare and the two Yahoos were all used as consultants for Pierre Boulle's 1963 remake: La planète des singes.'
'Louis Aragon once said,' announced Mathias from the other side of the room, 'that the function of geniuses was to furnish cretins with ideas twenty years on.'
'I hardly think that Boulle was a cretin, Mathias,' said Perkins, 'and anyway, it's always the same with you, isn't it? "Voltaire said this—", Baudelaire said that—". Sometimes I think that you just … just—'
He stopped, trying to think of the right words.
'Was it Da Vinci who said,' suggested the horse helpfully, 'that anyone who quotes authors in discussion is using their memory, not their intellect?'
'Exactly,' replied the frustrated Perkins, 'what I was about to say.'
'Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis,' murmured the horse, staring at the ceiling in thought.
'The only thing that proves is how pretentious you are,' muttered Perkins. 'It's always the same when we have visitors, isn't it?'
'Someone has to raise the tone in this miserable backwater,' replied Mathias, 'and if you call me a "pseudo-erudite ungulate" again, I shall bite you painfully on the buttock.'
Perkins and the horse glared at one another.
'You said there was a pair of Hounyhnhms?' I interjected, trying to defuse the situation.
'My partner, my love, my mare,' explained the horse, 'is currently at Oxford, your Oxford – studying political science at All Souls and paying her way by doing the odd job in the oral tradition.'
'Whereabouts?' I asked, wondering where a talking horse might find employment.
'Jokes about talking horses,' explained Mathias with a shiver of indignation. 'You have heard the one about the talking horse in the pub, I trust?'
'Not for a while,' I replied.
'I'm not surprised,' retorted the horse loftily. 'Her studies do tend to keep her quite busy. Whenever she runs out of funds she does the rounds with a new one. I think she is reprising the talking-horse-with-greyhound gag at the moment.'
It was true. Bowden had used that one at his Happy Squid talent contest. This was probably why jokes 'did the rounds' – it was oral tradition fictioneers going on tour. Another thought struck me.
'Don't you think they'd notice?' I asked. 'A horse, at Oxford?'
'You'd be surprised how unobservant some of the dons are,' snorted Perkins. 'Where do you think Napoleon the pig studied Marxism? The Harris bacon factory?'
'Didn't the other students complain?'
'Of course! Napoleon was expelled.'
'Was it the smell?'
'No – the cheating. This way. I keep the minotaur in the dungeons. You are fully conversant with the legend?'
'Of course,' I replied. 'It's the half-man, half-bull offspring of King Minos' wife, Pasiphaë.'
'Spot on.' He chuckled. 'The tabloids had a field day: "Cretan Queen in Bull Love-child Shock." We built a copy of the Labyrinth to hold it but the Monsters' Humane Society insisted two officials inspect it first.'
'And?'
'That was over twelve years ago; I think they're still in it. I keep the minotaur in here.'
He opened a door that led into a vaulted room below the old hall. It was dark and smelt of rotten bones and sweat.
'Er, you do keep it locked up?' I asked as my eyes struggled to see in the semi-dark.
'Of course!' he replied, nodding towards a large key hanging from a hook. 'What do you think I am, an idiot?'
As my eyes became accustomed to the gloom I could see that the back half of the vault was caged off with rusty iron bars. There was a door in the centre which was secured with a ridiculously large padlock.
'Don't get too near,' warned Perkins as he took a steel bowl down from a shelf. 'I've been feeding him on yogurt for almost five years, and to be truthful he's getting a bit bored.'
'Yogurt?'
'With some bran mixed in. Feeding him on Grecian virgins was too expensive.'
'Wasn't he slain by Theseus?' I asked, as a dark shape started moving at the back of the vault accompanied by a low growling noise. Even with the bars I really wasn't happy to be there.
'Usually,' replied Perkins, ladling out some yogurt, 'but mischievous Generics took him out of a copy of Graves' The Greek Myths in 1944 and dropped him in Tsaritsyn. A sharp-eyed Jurisfiction agent figured out what was going on and we took him out – he's been here ever since.'
Perkins filled the steel bowl with yogurt, mixed up some bran from a large dustbin and then placed the bowl on the floor a good five feet from the bars. He pushed the dish the remainder of the way with the handle of a floor mop.
As we watched, the minotaur appeared from the dark recesses of the cage and I felt the hairs bristle on the back of my neck. His large and muscular body was streaked with dirt and sharpened horns sprouted from his bull-like head. He moved with the low gait of an ape, using his forelegs to steady himself. As I watched he put out two clawed hands to retrieve the bowl, then slunk off to a dark corner. I caught a glimpse of his fangs in the dim light, and a pair of deep yellow eyes which glared at me with hungry malevolence.
'I'm thinking of calling him Norman,' murmured Perkins. 'Come on, I want to show you something.'
We left the dark and fetid area beneath the old hall and walked back into the laboratory, where Perkins opened a large leather-bound book that was sitting on the table.
'This is the Jurisfiction Bestiary,' he explained, turning the page to reveal a picture of the grammasite we had encountered in Great Expectations.
'An adjectivore,' I murmured.
'Very good,' replied Perkins. 'Fairly common in the Well but under control in fiction generally.'
He turned a page to reveal a sort of angler fish, but instead of a light dangling on a wand sticking out of its head it had the indefinite article.
'Nounfish,' explained Perkins. 'They swim the outer banks of the Text Sea, hoping to attract and devour stray nouns eager to start an embryonic sentence.'
He turned the page to reveal a picture of a small maggot.
'A bookworm?' I suggested, having seen these before at my Uncle Mycroft's workshop.
'Indeed,' replied Perkins. 'Not strictly a pest and actually quite necessary to the existence of the BookWorld. They take words and expel alternative meanings like a hot radiator. I think earthworms are the nearest equivalent in the Outland. They aerate the soil, yes?'
I nodded.
'Bookworms do the same job down here. "Without them, words would have one meaning, and meanings would have one word. They live in thesauri but their benefit is felt throughout fiction.'
'So why are they considered a pest?'
'Useful, but not without their drawbacks. Get too many bookworms in your novel and the language becomes almost unbearably flowery.'
'I've read books like that,' I confessed.
He turned the page and I recognised the grammasites that had swarmed through the Well earlier.
'Verbisoid,' he said with a sigh, 'to be destroyed without mercy. Once the Verbisoid extracts the verb from a sentence it generally collapses; do that once too often and the whole narrative falls apart like a bread roll in a rainstorm.'
'Why do they wear waistcoats and stripy socks?'
'To keep warm, I should imagine.'
'What's this?' I asked as he turned the page again. 'Another verbinator?'
'Well, kind of,' replied Perkins. 'This is a Converbilator. It actually creates verbs out of nouns and other words. Mostly by appending ize or ise but sometimes just by a direct conversion, such as knife, lunch and question. During a drought they have been known to even create compound verbs such as air-condition, and signpost. Like the bookworms they are necessary – but can't be allowed to get out of hand.'
'Some would say there are too many verbs already,' I commented.
'Those that do,' replied Perkins testily, 'should come and work for Jurisfiction for a bit and try and stop them.'
'What about the mispeling vyrus?' I asked.
'Speltificarious Molesworthian,' murmured Perkins, moving to where a pile of dictionaries were stacked up around a small glass jar. He picked out the container and showed it to me. A thin purple haze seemed to wisp around inside; it reminded me of one of Spike's SEBs.
'This is the larst of the vyrus,' explained Perkins. 'We had to distroy the wrist. It's very powarfull – can u feel it, even through the glas?'
'Unnessary,' I said, testing it out, 'undoutadly, professor, diarhea, nakijima. You're right, it's prety strong, isn't it?'
He replaced the jar bak in the dictosafe.
'Rampant before Agent Johnson's Dictionary in 1744,' commented Perkins. 'Lavinia-Webster and the Oxford English Dictionary keep it all in check but we have to be careful. We used to contain any outbreak and offload it in the Molesworth series where no one ever notices. These days we destroy any new vyrus with a battery of dictionaries we keep on the seventeenth floor of the Great Library. But we can't be too careful. Every mispeling you come across has to be reported to the Cat on form S-I2.'
'There was the raucous blast of a car horn from outside.
'Time's up!' Perkins smiled. 'That will be Miss Havisham.'
Miss Havisham was not on her own. She was sitting in a vast automobile the bonnet of which stretched ten feet in front of her. The large spoked and unguarded wheels carried tyres that looked woefully skinny and inadequate; eight huge exhaust pipes sprouted from either side of the bonnet, joined into one and stretched the length of the body. The tail of the car was pointed, like a boat, and just forward of the rear wheels two huge drive sprockets carried the power to the rear axle on large chains. It was a fearsome beast. It was the twenty-seven-litre Higham Special.
8
Ton sixty on the A419
'The wealthy son of a Polish count and an American mother, Louis Zborowski lived at Higham Place near Canterbury, where he built three aero-engined cars, all called Chitty Bang Bang, and a fourth monster, the Higham Special, a car he and Clive Gallop had engineered by squeezing a 27-litre aero engine into a Rubery Owen chassis and mating it with a Benz gearbox. At the time of Zborowski's death at Monza behind the wheel of a Mercedes, the Special had been lapping Brooklands at 116 mph – but her potential was as yet unproved. After a brief stint with a lady owner whose identity has not been revealed, the Special was sold to Parry Thomas, who with careful modifications of his own pushed the land speed record up to 170.624 mph at Pendine Sands, South Wales, in 1926.'
THE VERY REV. TOREDLYNE – The Land Speed Record
'Has she been boring you, Mr Perkins?' called out Havisham.
'Not at all,' replied Perkins, giving me a wink. 'She has been a most attentive student.'
'Humph,' muttered Havisham. 'Hope springs eternal. Get in, girl, we're off!'
I paused. I had been driven by Miss Havisham once before, and that was in a car that I thought relatively safe. This beast of an automobile looked as though it could kill you twice before even reaching second gear.
'What are you waiting for, girl?' said Havisham impatiently. 'If I let the Special idle any longer we'll coke up the plugs. Besides, we need all the fuel to do the run.'
'The run?'
'Don't worry!' shouted Miss Havisham as she revved the engine. The car lurched sideways with the torque and a throaty growl filled the air. 'You won't be aboard when we do – I need you for other duties.'
I took a deep breath and climbed into the small two-seater body It looked newly converted and was little more than a racing car with a few frills tacked on to make it roadworthy. Miss Havisham depressed the clutch and wrestled with the gearshift for a moment The large sprockets took up the power with a slight tug; it felt like a thoroughbred racehorse which had just got the scent of a steeplechase.
'Where are we going?' I asked.
'Home!' answered Miss Havisham as she moved the hand throttle. The car leaped forward across the grassy courtyard and gathered speed.
'To Great Expectations?' I asked as Miss Havisham steered in a broad circuit, fiddling with the levers in the centre of the massive steering wheel.
'Not my home,' she retorted, 'yours!'
With another deep growl and a lurch the car accelerated rapidly forward – but to where I was not sure; in front of us lay the broken drawbridge and stout stone walls of the castle.
'Fear not!' yelled Havisham above the roar of the engine. 'I'll read us into the Outland as simply as blinking!'
We gathered speed. I expected us to jump straight away, but we didn't. We carried on towards the heavy castle wall at a speed not wholly compatible with survival.
'Miss Havisham?' I asked, my voice tinged with fear.
'I'm just trying to think of the best words to get us there, girl!' she replied cheerfully.
'Stop!' I yelled as the point of no return came and went in a flash.
'Let me see …' muttered Havisham, thinking hard, the accelerator still wide open.
I covered my eyes. The car was running too fast for me to jump out and a collision seemed inevitable. I grasped the side of the car's body and tensed as Miss Havisham took herself, me and two tons of automobile through the barriers of fiction and into the real world. My world.
I opened my eyes again. Miss Havisham was studying a road map as the Higham Special swerved down the middle of the road. I grabbed the steering wheel as a milk float swerved into the hedge.
'I won't use the M4 in case the C of G get wind of it,' she said, looking around. 'We'll use the A419 – are we anywhere close?'
I recognised where we were instantly. Just north of Swindon outside a small town called Highworth.
'Continue round the roundabout and up the hill into the town,' I told her, adding: 'But it's not your right of way, remember.'
It was too late. To Miss Havisham, her way was the right way. The first car braked in time but the one behind it was not so lucky – it drove into the rear of the first with a crunch. I held on tightly as Miss Havisham accelerated rapidly away up the hill into Highworth. I was pressed into my seat and for a single moment, perched above two tons of bellowing machinery, I suddenly realised why Havisham liked this sort of thing – it was, in a word, exhilarating.
'I've only borrowed the Special from the count,' she explained. 'Parry Thomas will take delivery of it next week and aim to lift the speed record for himself. I've been working on a new mix of fuels; the A419 is straight and smooth – I should be able to do at least a ton eighty on that.'
'Turn right on to the B4019 at the Jesmond,' I told her, 'after the lights turn to greeeeeeen.'
The truck missed us by about six inches.
'What's that?'
'Nothing.'
'You know, Thursday, you should really loosen up and learn to enjoy life more – you can be such an old stick-in-the-mud.'
I lapsed into silence.
'And don't sulk,' added Miss Havisham. 'If there's something I can't abide, it's a sulky apprentice.'
We bowled down the road, nearly losing it on an 'S' bend, until miraculously we reached the main Swindon—Cirencester road. It was a no right turn but we did anyway, to a chorus of screeching tyres and angry car horns. Havisham accelerated off, and we had just approached the top of the hill when we came across a large 'diversion' sign blocking the road. Havisham thumped the steering wheel angrily.
'I don't believe it!' she bellowed.
'Road closed?' I queried, trying to hide my relief. 'Good – I mean, good-ness gracious, what a shame. Another time, eh?'
Havisham clunked the Special into first gear and we moved off round the sign and motored down the hill.
'It's him, I can sense it!' she growled. 'Trying to steal the speed record from under my very nose!'
'Who?' I asked.
As if in answer another racing car shot past us with a loud 'poop poop!'.
'Him,' muttered Havisham as we pulled off the road next to a speed camera. 'A driver so bad he is a menace to himself and every sentient being on the highways.'
He must have been truly frightful for Havisham to notice. A few minutes later the other car returned and pulled up alongside.
'What ho, Havisham!' said the driver, taking the goggles from his bulging eyes and grinning broadly. 'Still using Count "Snaill" Zborowski's old slowpoke Special, eh?'
'Good afternoon, Mr Toad,' said Havisham. 'Does the Bellman know you're in the Outland?'
'Of course not!' yelled Mr Toad, laughing. 'And you're not going to tell him, old girl, because you're not meant to be here either!'
Havisham was silent and looked ahead, trying to ignore him.
'Is that a Liberty aero-engine under there?' asked Mr Toad, pointing at the Special's bonnet, which trembled and shook as the vast engine idled roughly to itself.
'Perhaps,' replied Havisham.
'Ha!' replied Toad with an infectious smile. 'I had a Rolls-Royce Merlin shoehorned into this old banger!'
I watched Miss Havisham with interest. She stared ahead but her eye twitched slightly when Mr Toad revved the car's engine. In the end, she could resist it no more and her curiosity got the better of her disdain.
'How does it go?' she asked, eyes gleaming.
'Like a rocket!' replied Mr Toad, jumping up and down in his excitement. 'Over a thousand horses to the back axle – makes your Higham Special look like a motor mower!'
'We'll see about that,' replied Havisham, narrowing her eyes. 'Usual place, usual time, usual bet?'
'You're on!' said Mr Toad. He revved his car, pulled down his goggles and vanished in a cloud of rubber smoke. The 'poop poop' of his horn lingered on as an echo some seconds after he had gone.
'Slimy reptile,' muttered Havisham.
'Strictly speaking, he's neither,' I retorted. 'More like a dry-skinned land-based amphibian.'
It felt safe to be impertinent because I knew she wasn't listening.
'He's caused more accidents than you've had hot dinners.'
'And you're going to race him?' I asked slightly nervously.
'And beat him too, what's more,' she replied, handing me a pair of bolt-cutters.
'What do you want me to do?' I asked.
'Open up the speed camera and get the film out once I've done my run.'
I got out. She donned a pair of goggles and was gone in a howl of engine noise and screeching of tyres. I looked nervously around as she and the car hurtled off into the distance, the roar of the engine fading into a hum, occasionally punctuated by muffled cracks from the exhaust. The sun was out and I could see at least three airships droning across the sky; I wondered what was going on at SpecOps. I had written a note to Victor telling him I had to be away for a year or more, and tendered my resignation. Suddenly I was shaken from my daydream by something else. Something dark and just out of sight. Something I should have done or something I'd forgotten. I shivered and then it clicked. Last night. Gran. Aornis' mindworm. What had she been unravelling in my mind? I sighed as the pieces slowly started to merge together in my head. Gran had told me to run the facts over and over to renew the familiar memories that Aornis was trying to delete. But how do you start trying to find out what it is you've forgotten? I concentrated … Landen. I hadn't thought about him all day and that was unusual. I could remember where we met and what had happened to him – no problem there. Anything else? His full name. Damn and blast! Landen Parke-something. Did it begin with a 'B'? I couldn't remember. I sighed and placed my hand over where I imagined our baby to be – it would now be the size of a half-crown. I remembered enough to know I loved him, and I missed him dreadfully – which was a good sign, I supposed. I thought of Lavoisier's perfidy and the Schitt brothers and started to feel rage building inside me. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. There was a phone box by the side of the road, and on an impulse I called my mother.
'Hi, Mum,' I said, 'it's Thursday.'
'Thursday!' she screamed excitedly. 'Hang on – the stove's on fire.'
'The stove?'
'Well, the kitchen really – wait a mo!'
There was a crashing noise and she came back on the line a few seconds later.
'Out now. Darling! Are you okay?'
'I'm fine, Mum.'
'And the baby?'
'Fine too. How are things with you?'
'Frightful!' she exclaimed. 'Goliath and SpecOps have been camping outside since the moment you left and Emma Hamilton is living in the spare room and eats like a horse.'
There was an angry growl and a loud whooshing noise as Havisham swept past in little more than a blur; two flashes from the speed camera went off in quick succession and there were several more loud bangs as Havisham rolled off the throttle.
'What was that noise?' asked my mother.
'You'd never believe me if I told you. My – er – husband hasn't been round looking for me, has he?'
'I'm afraid not, sweetheart,' she said in her most understanding voice; she knew about Landen and understood better than most – her own husband, my father, had been eradicated himself seventeen years previously. 'Why don't you come round and talk?' she went on. 'The Eradications Anonymous meeting is at eight this evening; you'll be among friends there.'
'I don't think so, Mum.'
'Are you eating regularly?'
'Yes, Mum.'
'I managed to get DH-82 to do a few tricks.'
DH-82 was her rescue Thylacine. Training a Thylacine, usually unbelievably torpid, to do anything except eat or sleep on command was almost front-page news.
'That's good. Listen, I just called to say I miss you and not to worry about me—'
'I'm going to try another run!' shouted Miss Havisham, who had drawn up. I waved to her and she drove off.
'Are you keeping Pickwick's egg warm?'
I told Mum that this was Pickwick's job, that I would call again when I could, and hung up. I thought of ringing Bowden but decided on the face of it that this was probably not a good idea. Mum's phone was bound to have been tapped and I had given them enough already. I walked back to the road and watched as a small grey dot grew larger and larger until the Special swept past with a strident bellow. The speed camera flashed again and a belch of flame erupted from the exhaust pipe. It took Miss Havisham about a mile to slow down so I sat on a wall and waited patiently for her to return. A small four-seater airship had appeared no more than half a mile away. It seemed to be a SpecOps traffic patrol and I couldn't risk them finding out who I was. I looked urgently towards where Havisham was motoring slowly back to me.
'Come on,' I muttered under my breath, 'put some speed on, for goodness' sake.'
Havisham pulled up and shook her head sadly.
'Mixture's too rich,' she explained. 'Take the film out of the speed camera, will you?'
I pointed out the airship heading our way. It was approaching quite fast – for an airship.
Miss Havisham looked over at it, grunted and jumped down to open the huge bonnet and peer inside. I cut off the padlock, pulled the speed camera down and rewound the film as quickly as I could.
'Halt!' barked the PA system on the airship when it was within a few hundred yards. 'You are both under arrest. Wait by your vehicle.'
'We've got to go,' I said, urgently.
'Poppycock!' replied Miss Havisham.
'Place your hands on the bonnet of the car!' yelled the PA again as the airship droned past at treetop level. 'You have been warned!'
'Miss Havisham,' I said, 'if they find out who I am I could be in a lot of trouble!'
'Nonsense, girl. Why would they want someone as inconsequential as you?'
The airship swung round with the vectored engines in reverse; once they started asking questions I'd be answering them for a long time.
'We have to go, Miss Havisham!'
She sensed the urgency in my voice and beckoned for me to get in the car. Within a moment we were away from that place, car and all, back in the lobby of the Great Library.
'You're not so popular in the Outland, then?' Havisham asked, turning off the engine, which spluttered and shook to a halt, the sudden quiet a welcome break.
'You could say that.'
'Not really.'
She stared at me for a moment.
'I thought it a bit odd that Goliath had you trapped in their deepest and most secure sub-basement. Do you have the film from the speed camera?'
I handed it over.
'I'll get double prints,' she mused. 'Thanks for your help. See you at roll-call tomorrow – don't be late!'
I waited until she had gone, then retraced my steps to the Library, where I had left Snell's 'head-in-a-bag' plot device, and made my way home. I didn't jump direct; I took the elevator. Bookjumping might be a quick way to get around, but it was also kind of knackering.
9
Apples Benedict, a hedgehog and Commander Bradshaw
'ImaginoTransference Recording Device: A machine used to write books in the Well, the ITRD resembles a large horn (typically eight foot across and made of brass) attached to a polished mahogany mixing board a little like a church organ but with many more stops and levers. As the story is enacted in front of the collecting horn, the actions, dialogue, humour, pathos, etc., are collected, mixed and transmitted as raw data to Text Grand Central where the wordsmiths hammer it into readable story code. Once done it is beamed direct to the author's pen or typewriter, and from there through a live footnoterphone link back to the Well as plain text. The page is read and if all is well, it is added to the manuscript and the characters move on. The beauty of the system is that the author never suspects a thing – they think they do all the work.'
CMDR TRAFFORD BRADSHAW, CBE –
Bradshaw's Guide to the BookWorld
'I'm home!' I yelled as I walked through the door. Pickwick plocked happily up to me, realised I didn't have any marshmallows, and then left in a huff, only to return with a piece of paper she had found in the waste-paper basket, which she offered to me as a gift. I thanked her profusely and she went back to her egg.
'Hello,' said ibb, who had been experimenting, Beeton-like, in the kitchen, 'what's in the bag?'
'You don't want to know.'
'Hmm,' replied ibb thoughtfully. 'Since I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, your response must be another way of saying: "I'm not going to tell you, so sod off." Is that correct?'
'More or less,' I replied, placing the bag in the broom cupboard. 'Is Gran around?'
'I don't think so.'
obb walked in a little later, reading a textbook entitled Personalities for Beginners.
'Hello, Thursday,' it said, 'a hedgehog and a tortoise came round to see you this afternoon.'
'What did they want?'
'They didn't say.'
'And Gran?'
'In the Outland. She said not to wait up for her. You look very tired; are you okay?'
It was true, I was tired, but I wasn't sure why. Stress? It's not every day that you have to fight swarms of grammasites and deal with Havisham's driving, Yahoos, Thraals, Big Martin's friends or head-in-a-bag plot devices. Maybe it was just the baby playing silly buggers with my hormones.
'What's for supper?' I asked, slumping into a chair and closing my eyes.
'I've been experimenting with alternative recipes,' said ibb, 'so we're having apples Benedict.'
'Apples Benedict?'
'Yes; it's like eggs Benedict but with—'
'I get the picture. Anything else?'
'Of course. You could try turnips à l’orange or macaroni custard; for pudding I've made anchovy trifle and herring fool. What will you have?'
'Beans on toast.'
I sighed. It was like being back home at Mother's.
I didn't dream that night. Landen was absent, but then so too was … was … what's-her-name. I slept soundly and missed the alarm. I woke up feeling terrible and just lay flat on my back, breathing deeply and trying to push away the clouds of nausea. There was a rap at the door.
'ibb!' I yelled. 'Can you get that?'
My head throbbed but there was no answer. I glanced at the clock; it was nearly nine and both of them would be out at St Tabularasa's practising whimsical asides or something. I hauled myself out of bed, steadied myself for a moment, wrapped myself in a dressing gown and went downstairs. There was no one there when I opened the door. I was just closing it when a small voice said:
'We're down here.'
It was a hedgehog and a tortoise. But the hedgehog wasn't like Mrs Tiggy-winkle, who was as tall as me; this hedgehog and tortoise were just the size they should have been.
'Thursday Next?' said the hedgehog.
'Yes,' I replied, 'what can I do for you?'
'You can stop poking your nose in where it's not wanted,' said the hedgehog haughtily, 'that's what you can do.'
'I don't understand.'
'Painted Jaguar?' suggested the tortoise. 'Can't curl, can swim. Ring any bells, Smart Alec?'
'Oh!' I said. 'You must be Stickly-prickly and Slow-and-Solid.'
'The same. And that little mnemonic you so kindly gave to the Painted Jaguar is going to cause us a few problems – the dopey feline will never forget that in a month of Sundays.'
I sighed. Living in the BookWorld was a great deal more complicated than I had imagined.
'Well, why don't you learn to swim or something?'
'Who, me?' said Stickly-prickly. 'Don't be absurd; whoever heard of a hedgehog swimming?'
'And you could learn to curl,' I added to Slow-and-Solid.
'Curl?' replied the tortoise indignantly. 'I don't think so, thank you very much.'
'Give it a go,' I persisted. 'Unlace your backplates a little and try and touch your toes.'
There was a pause. The hedgehog and tortoise looked at one another and giggled.
'Won't Painted Jaguar be surprised!' they chortled, thanked me, and left.
I closed the door, sat down and looked in the fridge, shrugged and ate a large portion of apples Benedict before having a long and very relaxing shower.
The corridors of the Well were as busy as the day before. Traders bustled with buyers, deals were done, orders taken, bargains struck. Every now and then I saw characters fading in and out as their trade took them from book to book. I looked at the shopfronts as I walked past, trying to guess how they did what they did. There were holesmiths, grammatacists, pace-setters, moodmongers, paginators – you name it. 10
It was the junkfootnoterphone starting up again. I tried to shut it out but only succeeded in lowering the volume. As I walked along I noticed a familiar figure among the traders and plot speculators. He was dressed in his usual hunter/explorer garb, safari jacket and pith helmet with a revolver in a leather holster. It was Commander Bradshaw, star of thirty-four thrilling adventure stories for boys available in hardback at 7/6 each. Out of print since the thirties, Bradshaw entertained himself in his retirement by being something of an éminence grise at Jurisfiction. He had seen and done it all – or claimed he had.
'A hundred!' he exclaimed bitterly as I drew closer. 'Is that the best you can offer?'
The Action Sequence trader he was talking to shrugged.
'We don't get much call for lion attacks these days.'
'But it's terrifying, man, terrifying!' exclaimed Bradshaw. 'Real hot breath down the back of your neck stuff. Brighten up a chicklit no end, I should wager – make a change from parties and frocks, what?'
'A hundred and twenty, then. Take it or leave it.'
'Blood-sucker!' mumbled Bradshaw, taking the money and handing over a small glass globe with the lion attack, I presumed, safely freeze-dried within. He turned away from the trader and caught me looking at him. He quickly hid the cash and raised his pith helmet politely.
'Good morning!'
He waved a finger at me.
'It's Havisham's apprentice, isn't it? What was your name again?'
'Thursday Next.'
'Is it, by gum?' he exclaimed. 'Well I never.'
He was, I noticed, a good foot taller than the last time we had met. He now almost came up to my shoulder.
'You're much—' I began, then checked myself.
'—taller?' he guessed. 'Quite correct, girlie. Appreciate a woman who isn't trammelled by the conventions of good manners. Melanie – that's the wife, you know – she's pretty rude, too. "Trafford," she says – that's my name, Trafford – "Trafford," she says, "you are a worthless heap of elephant dung." Well, this was out of the blue – I had just returned home after a harrowing adventure in Central Africa where I was captured and nearly roasted on a spit. The sacred emerald of the Umpopo had been stolen by two Swedish prospectors and—'
'Commander Bradshaw,' I interrupted, desperate to stop him recounting one of his highly unlikely adventures, 'have you seen Miss Havisham this morning?'
'Quite right to interrupt me,' he said cheerfully. 'Appreciate a woman who knows when to subtly tell a boring old fart to button his lip. You and Mrs Bradshaw have a lot in common. You must meet up some day.'
We walked down the busy corridor. 11
I tapped my ears.
'Problems?' enquired Bradshaw.
'Yes,' I replied, 'I've got two gossiping Russians inside my head again.'
'Crossed line? Infernal contraptions. Have a word with Plum at JurisTech if it persists. I say,' he went on, lowering his voice and looking round furtively, 'you won't tell anyone about that lion attack sale, will you? If the story gets around that old Bradshaw is cashing in his Action Sequences, I'll never hear the last of it.'
'I won't say a word,' I assured him as we avoided a trader trying to sell us surplus B-3 Darcy clones, 'but do many people try and sell off parts of their own book?'
'Oh yes,' replied Bradshaw. 'But only if they are out of print and can spare it. Trouble is,' he went on, 'I'm a bit strapped for the old moolah. What with the BookWorld Awards coming up and Mrs Bradshaw a bit shy in public I thought a new dress might be just the ticket – and the cost of clothes is pretty steep down here, y'know.'
'It's the same in the Outland.'
'Is it, by George?' He guffawed. 'The Well always reminds me of the market in Nairobi; how about you?'
'There seems to be an awful lot of bureaucracy,' I observed. 'I would have thought a fiction factory would be, by definition, a lot more free and relaxed.'
'If you think this is bad, you ought to visit non-fiction. Over there, the rules governing the correct use of a semi-colon alone run to several volumes. Anything devised by man has bureaucracy, corruption and error hard-wired at inception, m'girl. I'm surprised you hadn't figured that out yet. What do you think of the Well?'
'I'm still a bit new to it,' I confessed.
'Really?' he replied. 'Let me help you out.'
He stopped and looked around for a moment, then pointed out a man in his early twenties who was walking towards us. He was dressed in a long riding jacket and carried a battered leather suitcase emblazoned with the names of books and plays he had visited in the course of his trade.
'See him?'
'He's an artisan – a holesmith.'
'He's a plasterer?'
'No; he fills narrative holes, plot and expositional anomalies – Bloopholes. If a writer said something like: "The daffodils bloomed in summer" or: "They checked the ballistics report on the shotgun", then artisans like him are there to sort it out. It's one of the final stages of construction just before the grammatacists, echolocators and spellcheckers move in to smooth everything over.'
The young man had drawn level with us by this time.
'Hello, Mr Starboard,' said Bradshaw to the holesmith, who gave a wan smile of recognition.
'Commander Bradshaw!' he muttered slightly hesitantly. 'What a truly delightful honour it is to meet you again, sir. Mrs Bradshaw quite well?'
'Quite well, thank you. This is Miss Next – new at the department. I'm showing her the ropes.'
The holesmith shook my hand and made welcoming noises.
'I closed a hole in Great Expectations the other day,' I told him. 'Was that one of your books?'
'Goodness me no!' exclaimed the young man, smiling for the first time. 'Holestitching has come a long way since Dickens. You won't find a holesmith worth his thread trying the old "door opens and in comes the missing aunt/father/business associate/friend, etc.", all ready to explain where they've been since mysteriously dropping out of the narrative two hundred pages previously. The methodology we choose these days is to just go back and patch the hole, or more simply, to camouflage it.'
'I see.'
'Indeed,' carried on the young man, becoming more flamboyant in the light of my perceived interest, 'I'm working on a system that hides holes by highlighting them to the reader, which just says: "Ho! I'm a hole, don't think about it!", but it's a little cutting-edge. I think,' added the young man airily, 'that you will not find a more experienced holesmith anywhere in the Well; I've been doing it for more than forty years.'
'When did you start?' I observed, looking at the youth curiously. 'As a baby?'
The young man aged, greyed and sagged before my eyes until he was in his seventies and then announced, arms outstretched and with a nourish:
'Da-daaaa!'
'No one likes a show-off, Llyster,' said Bradshaw, looking at his watch. 'I don't want to hurry you, Tuesday, old girl, but we should be getting over to Norland Park for the roll-call.'
He gallantly offered me an elbow to hold and I hooked my arm in his.
'Thank you, Commander.'
'Stouter than stout!' Bradshaw laughed, and read us both into Sense and Sensibility.
10
Jurisfiction session number 40319
'JurisTech: Popular contraction of Jurisfiction Technological Division. This R&D company works exclusively for JunsFiction and is financed by the Council of Genres through Text Grand Central. Owing to the often rigorous and specialised tasks undertaken by Prose Resource Operatives, JurisTech is permitted to build gadgets deemed outside the usual laws of physics – the only department (aside from the SF genre) licensed to do so. The standard item in a PRO's manifest is the TravelBook (q.v.), which itself contains other JurisTech designs like the Martin-Bacon Eject-O-Hat, MV Mask, Textmarker, String™ and textual sieves of vanous porosity, to name but a few.'
UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
The offices of Jurisfiction were situated at Norland Park, the house of the Dashwoods in Sense and Sensibility. The family kindly lent the ballroom to Jurisfiction on the unspoken condition that Jane Austen books would be an area of special protection.
Norland Park was located within a broad expanse of softly undulating grassland set about with ancient oaks. The evening was drawing on, as it generally did when we arrived, and wood pigeons cooed from the dovecote. The grass felt warm and comfortable like a heavily underlaid carpet, and the delicate scent of pine needles filled the air.
But all was not perfect in this garden of nineteenth-century prose; as we approached the house there seemed to be some sort of commotion. A demonstration, in fact – the sort of thing I was used to seeing at home. But this wasn't a rally about the price of cheese or whether the Whig Party were dangerously right wing and anti-Welsh, nor about whether Goliath had the right to force legislation compelling everyone to eat SmileyBurger at least twice a week. No, this demonstration was one you would expect to find only in the world of fiction.
The Bellman, elected head of Jurisfiction and dressed in the garb of a town crier, was angrily tingling his bell to try to persuade the crowd to calm down.
'Not again,' muttered Bradshaw as we walked up. 'I wonder what the Orals want this time?'
I was unfamiliar with the term, and since I didn't want to appear foolish, I tried to make sense of the crowd on my own. The person nearest to me was a shepherdess, although that was only a guess on my part as she didn't have any sheep – only a large crook. A boy dressed in blue with a horn was standing next to her discussing the falling price of lamb, and next to them was a very old woman with a small dog which whined, pretended to be dead, smoked a pipe and performed various other tricks in quick succession. Standing next to her was a small man in a long nightdress and bed hat who yawned loudly. Perhaps I was being slow, but it was only when I saw a large egg with arms and legs that I realised who they were.
'They're all nursery rhyme characters!' I exclaimed.
'They're a pain in the whatsit, that's what they are,' murmured Bradshaw as a small boy jumped from the crowd, grabbed a pig and made a dash for it. Bo-Peep hooked his ankle with her crook and the boy sprawled headlong on the grass. The pig rolled into a flower bed with a startled oink and then beat a hurried escape as a large man started to give the boy six of the best.
'… all we want is the same rights as any other character in the BookWorld,' said Humpty Dumpty, his ovoid face a deep crimson. 'Just because we have a duty to children and the oral tradition doesn't mean we can be taken advantage of.'
The crowd murmured and grunted their agreement. Humpty Dumpty continued as I stared at him, wondering whether his belt was actually a cravat, as it was impossible to tell which was his neck and which his waist.
'… we have a petition signed by over a thousand Orals who couldn't make it today,' said the large egg, waving a wad of papers amid shouts from the crowd.
'We're not joking this time, Mr Bellman,' added a baker, who was standing in a wooden tub with a butcher and a candlestick maker. 'We are quite willing to withdraw our rhymes if our terms are not met.'
There was a chorus of approval from the assembled characters.
'It was fine before they were unionised,' Bradshaw whispered in my ear. 'Come on, let's use the back door.'
We walked around to the side of the house, our feet crunching on the gravel chippings.
'Why can't characters from the oral tradition be a part of the Character Exchange Programme?' I asked.
'Who'd cover for them?' snorted Bradshaw. 'You?
'Couldn't we train up Generics as sort of, well, "character locums"?'
'Best to leave industrial relations to the people with the facts at their fingertips,' replied Bradshaw. 'We can barely keep pace with the volume of new material as it is. I shouldn't worry about Mr Dumpty; he's been agitating for centuries. It's not our fault he and his badly rhyming friends are still looked after by the old OralTradPlus agreement— Good heavens, Miss Dashwood! Does your mother know that you smoke?'
It was Marianne Dashwood, and she had been puffing away at a small roll-up as we rounded the corner. She quickly threw the butt away and held her breath for as long as possible before coughing and letting out a large cloud of smoke.
'Commander!' she wheezed, eyes watering. 'Promise you won't tell!'
'My lips are sealed,' replied Bradshaw sternly, just this once.'
Marianne breathed a sigh of relief and turned to me.
'Miss Next!' she enthused. 'Welcome back to our little book – I trust you are well?'
'Quite well,' I assured her, passing her the Marmite, Mintolas and AA batteries I had promised her from my last visit. 'Will you make sure these get to your sister and mother?'
She clapped her hands with joy and took the gifts excitedly.
'You are a darling!' she said happily. 'What can I do to repay you?'
'Don't let Lola Vavoom play you in the movie.'
'Out of my hands,' she replied unhappily, 'but if you need a favour, I'm here!'
We made our way up the servants' staircase and into the hall above where a much-bedraggled Bellman was walking towards us, shaking his head and holding the employment demands that Humpty Dumpty had thrust into his hands.
'Those Orals get more and more militant every day,' he gasped. 'They are planning a forty-eight-hour walk-out tomorrow.'
'What effect will that have?' I asked.
'I should have thought that would be obvious,' chided the Bellman. 'Nursery rhymes will be unavailable for recall. In the Outland there will be a lot of people thinking they have bad memories. It won't do the slightest bit of good – a story book is usually in reach wherever a nursery rhyme is told.'
'Ah,' I said.
'The biggest problem,' added the Bellman, mopping his brow, 'is that if we give in to the nursery rhymsters everyone else will want to renegotiate their agreements – from the poeticals all the way through to nursery stories and even characters in jokes. Sometimes I'm glad I'm up for retirement – then someone like you can take over, Commander Bradshaw!'
'Not me!' he said grimly. 'I wouldn't be the Bellman again for all the Ts in Little Tim Tottle's twin sisters take time tittle-tattling in a tuttle-tuttle tree – twice.'
The Bellman laughed and we entered the ballroom of Norland Park.
'Have you heard?' said a young man who approached us with no small measure of urgency in his voice. 'The Red Queen had to have her leg amputated. Arterial thrombosis, the doctor told me.'
'Really?' I said. 'When?'
'Last week. And that's not all.'
He lowered his voice.
'The Bellman has gassed himself! '
'But we were just talking to him,' I replied.
'Oh,' said the young man, thinking hard, 'I meant Perkins has gassed himself.'
Miss Havisham joined us.
'Billy!' she said in a scolding tone. 'That's quite enough of that. Buzz off before I box your ears!'
The young man looked deflated for a moment then pulled himself up, announced haughtily that he had been asked to write additional dialogue for John Steinbeck and strode off. Miss Havisham shook her head sadly.
'If he ever says "good morning",' she said, 'don't believe him. All well, Trafford?'
'Top hole, Estella, old girl, top hole. I bumped into Tuesday here in the Well.'
'Not selling parts of your book, were you?' she asked mischievously.
'Good heavens, no!' replied Bradshaw, feigning shock and surprise. 'Goodness me,' he added, staring into the room for some form of escape, 'I must just speak to the Cheshire Cat. Good day!'
And, tipping his pith helmet politely, he was gone.
'Bradshaw, Bradshaw,' sighed Miss Havisham, shaking her head sadly, 'soon Bradshaw defies the Kaiser will have so many holes we could use it as a colander.'
'He wanted to buy a dress for Mrs Bradshaw,' I explained.
'Have you met her yet?'
'Not yet.'
'When you do, don't stare, will you? It's very rude.'
'Why would I—'
'Come along!' interrupted Miss Havisham. 'Almost time for roll-call!'
The ballroom of Norland Park had long since been used for nothing but Jurisfiction business. The floor space was covered with tables and filing cabinets, and the many desks were piled high with files tied up with ribbon. There was a table to one side with food upon it and waiting for us – or the Bellman, at least – were the staff at Jurisfiction. There were about thirty operatives on the active list, and since up to ten of them were busy on assignment and five or so active in their own books, there were never more than fifteen people in the office at any one time. Vernham Deane gave me a cheery wave as we entered. He was the resident cad and philanderer in a Daphne Farquitt novel entitled The Squire of High Potternews, but you would never know to talk to him – he had always been polite and courteous to me. Next to him was Harris Tweed, who had intervened back at the Slaughtered Lamb only the day before.
'Miss Havisham!' he exclaimed, walking over and handing us both a plain envelope. 'I've got your bounty for those grammasites you killed; I split it equally, yes?'
He winked at me, then left before Havisham could say anything.
'Thursday!' said Akrid Snell. 'Sorry to dash off like that yesterday. Hello, Miss Havisham – I heard you got swarmed by a few grammasites; no one's ever shot six Verbisoids in one go before!'
'Piece of cake,' I replied. 'And Akrid, I've still got that – er – thing you bought.'
'Thing? What thing?'
'You remember,' I urged, knowing that trying to influence his own narrative was strictly forbidden, 'the thing. In a bag. You know.'
'Oh! Ah … ah, yes,' he said, finally realising what I was talking about. 'The thing thing. I'll pick it up after work, yes?'
'Snell insider-trading again?' asked Havisham quietly as soon as he had left.
'I'm afraid so.'
'I'd do the same if my book was as bad as his.'
I looked around to see who else had turned up. Sir John Falstaff was there, as was King Pellinore, Deane, Lady Cavendish, Mrs Tiggy-winkle with Emperor Zhark in attendance, Gully Foyle, and Perkins.
'Who are they?' I asked Havisham, pointing to two agents I didn't recognise.
'Ichabod Crane is the one on the left holding the pumpkin,' she explained. 'Beatrice is the other. A bit loud for my liking, but good at her job.'
I thanked her and looked around for the Red Queen, whose open hostility to Havisham was Jurisfiction's least well-kept secret; she was nowhere to be seen.
'Hail, Miss Next!' rumbled Falstaff, waddling up and staring at me unsteadily from within a cloud of alcohol fumes. He had drunk, stolen and womanised throughout Henry IV Parts I and II then inveigled himself into The Merry Wives of Windsor. Some saw him as a likeable rogue; I saw him as just plain revolting – although he was the blueprint of likeable debauchers in fiction everywhere, so I thought I should try to cut him a bit of slack.
'Good morning, Sir John,' I said, trying to be polite.
'Good morning to you, sweet maid,' he exclaimed happily. 'Do you ride?'
'A little.'
'Then perhaps you might like to take a ride up and down the length of my merry England? I could take you places and show you things—'
'I must politely decline, Sir John.'
He laughed noisily in my face. I felt a flush of anger rise within me but luckily the Bellman, unwilling to waste any more time, had stepped up to his small dais and tingled his bell.
'Sorry to keep you all waiting,' he muttered. 'As you have seen, things are a little fraught outside. But I am delighted to see so many of you here. Is there anyone still to come?'
'Shall we wait for Godot?' enquired Deane.
'Anyone know where he is?' asked the Bellman. 'Beatrice, weren't you working with him?'
'Not I,' replied the young woman. 'You might enquire this of Benedict if he troubles to attend but you would as well speak to a goat – a stupid goat, mark me.'
'The sweet lady's tongue does abuse to our ears,' said Benedict, who had been seated out of our view but now rose to glare at Beatrice. 'Were the fountain of your mind clear again, that I might water an ass at it.'
'Ah!' retorted Beatrice with a laugh. 'Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike!'
'Dear Beatrice,' returned Benedict, bowing low, 'I was looking for a fool when I found you.'
'You, Benedict, who has not so much brain as ear-wax?'
They narrowed their eyes at one another and then smiled with polite enmity.
'All right, all right,' interrupted the Bellman. 'Calm down, you two. Do you know where Agent Godot is or not?'
Beatrice answered that she didn't.
'Right,' announced the Bellman. 'Let's get on. Jurisfiction meeting number 40319 is now in session.'
He tingled his bell again, coughed and consulted his clipboard.
'Item one. Our congratulations go to Deane and Lady Cavendish for foiling the Bowdlerisers in Chaucer.'
There were a few words of encouragement and back-slapping.
'There has been damage done but it's got no worse, so let's just try and keep an eye out in the future. Item two.'
He put down his clipboard and leaned on the lectern.
'Remember that craze a few years back in the BookWorld for sending chain letters? Receive a letter and send one on to ten friends? Well, someone has been over-enthusiastic with the letter "U". I've got a report here from the Text Sea Environmental Protection Agency saying that reserves of the letter "U" have reached dangerously low levels – we need to decrease consumption until stocks are brought back up. Any suggestions?'
'How about using a lower-case "N" upside down?' said Benedict.
'We tried that with "M" and "W" during the Great "M" Migration of '62; it never worked.'
'How about respelling what, what?' suggested King Pellinore, stroking his large white moustache. 'Any word with the "our" ending could be spelt "or", dontchaknow.'
'Like neighbor instead of neighbour?
'It's a good idea,' put in Snell. 'Labor, valor, flavor, harbor— there are hundreds. If we confine it to one geographical area we can claim it as a local spelling idiosyncrasy.'
'Hmm,' said the Bellman, thinking hard. 'Do you know, it just might work.'
He looked at his clipboard again.
'Item three – Tweed, are you here?'
Harris Tweed signalled from where he was sitting.
'Good,' continued the Bellman. 'I understand you were pursuing a PageRunner who had taken up residence in the Outland?'
Tweed glanced at me and stood up.
'Fellow by the name of Yorrick Kaine. He's something of a big cheese in the Outland – runs Kaine Publishing and has set himself up as head of his own political party—'
'Yes, yes,' said the Bellman impatiently, 'and he stole Cardenio, I know – but the point is, where is he now?'
'He went back to the Outland where I lost him,' replied Tweed.
'The Council of Genres are not keen to sanction any work in the real world,' said the Bellman slowly. 'It's too risky. We don't even know which book Kaine is from – and since he's not doing anything against us at present, I think he should stay in the Outland.'
'But Kaine is a real danger to our world,' I exclaimed.
Considering Kaine's righter-than-right politics, this was a fresh limit to the word understatement.
'He has stolen from the Great Library once,' I continued. 'How can we suppose he won't do the same again? Don't we have a duty to the readers to protect them from fictionauts hell-bent on—'
'Ms Next,' interrupted the Bellman, 'I understand what you are saying but I am not going to sanction an operation in the Outland. I'm sorry, but that is how it is going to be. He goes on the PageRunners' register and we'll set up textual sieves on every floor of the Library in case he plans to come back. Out there you may do as you please; here you do as we tell you. Is that clear?'
I grew hot and angry but Miss Havisham squeezed my arm, so I remained quiet.
'Good,' carried on the Bellman, consulting his clipboard again. 'Item four. Text Grand Central have reported several attempted incursions from the Outland. Nothing serious but enough to generate a few ripples in the Ficto-Outland barrier. Miss Havisham, didn't you report that an Outlander company was doing some research into entering fiction?'
It was true. Goliath had been attempting entry into the BookWorld for many years but with little success; all they had managed to do was extract a stodgy gunge from volumes one to eight of The World of Cheese. Uncle Mycroft had sought refuge in the Sherlock Holmes series to avoid them.
'It was called the Something Company,' replied Havisham thoughtfully.
'Goliath,' I told her. 'It's called the Goliath Corporation.'
'Goliath. That was it. I had a look round while I was retrieving Miss Next's TravelBook.'
'Do you think Outlander technology is that far advanced?' asked the Bellman.
'No. They're still a long way away. They'd been trying to send an unmanned probe into The Listeners but, from what I saw, with little success.'
'Okay,' replied the Bellman, 'we'll keep an eye on them. What was their name again?'
'Goliath,' I said.
He made a note.
'Item five. All of the punctuation has been stolen from the final chapter of Ulysses. Probably about five hundred assorted full stops, commas, apostrophes and colons.'
He paused for a moment.
'Vern, weren't you doing some work on this?'
'Indeed,' replied the squire, stepping forward and opening a notebook. 'We noticed the theft two days ago. I spoke to the Cat and he said that no one has entered the book, so we can only assume that the novel was penetrated through the literary interpretation of Dublin – which gives us several thousand suspects. I surmise the thief thought no one would notice as most readers never get that far into Ulysses – you will recall the theft of chapter sixty-two from Moby-Dick, which no one ever noticed? Well, this theft was noted, but initial reports show that readers are regarding the lack of punctuation as not a cataclysmic error but the mark of a great genius, so we've got some breathing space.'
'Are we sure it was a thief?' asked Beatrice. 'Couldn't it just be grammasites?'
'I don't think so,' replied Perkins, who had made bookzoology into something closely resembling a science. 'Punctusauroids are pretty rare, and to make off with so many punctuations you would need a flock of several hundred. Also, I don't think they would have left the last full stop – that looks to me like a mischievous thief
'Okay,' said the Bellman, 'so what are we to do?'
'The only ready market for stolen punctuation is in the Well.'
'Hmm,' mused the Bellman. 'A Jurisfiction agent down there is about as conspicuous as a brass band at a funeral. We need someone to go undercover. Any volunteers?'
'It's my case,' said Vernham Deane. 'I'll go. That is if no one thinks themselves better qualified.'
There was silence.
'Looks like you're it!' enthused the Bellman, writing a note on his clipboard. 'Item six. As you recall, David and Catriona Balfour were Boojummed a few weeks back. Because there can't be much Kidnapped and Catriona without them and Robert Louis Stevenson remains a popular author, the Council of Genres has licensed a pair of A-4 Generics to take their place. They'll be given unlimited access to all Stevenson's books, and I want you all to make them feel welcome.'
There was a murmuring from the collected agents.
'Yes,' said the Bellman with a resigned air, 'I know they'll never be exactly the same but with a bit of luck we should be okay; no one in the Outland noticed when David Copperfield was replaced, now, did they?'
No one said anything.
'Good. Item seven. As you know, I am retiring in two weeks' time and the Council of Genres will need a replacement Bellman. All nominations are to be given direct to the Council for consideration.'
He paused again.
'Item eight. As you all know, Text Grand Central have been working on an upgrade to the Book Operating System for the last fifty years—'
There was a groan from the assembled agents. Clearly this was a matter of some contention. Snell had explained about the ImaginoTransference technology behind books in general, but I had no idea how it worked. Still don't, as a matter of fact.
'Do you know what happened when they tried to upgrade SCROLL?' said Bradshaw. 'The system conflict wiped the entire library at Alexandria – they had to torch the lot to stop it spreading.'
'We knew a lot less about operating systems then, Commander,' replied the Bellman in a soothing voice, 'and you can rest assured that early upgrading problems have not been ignored. Many of us have reservations about the standard version of BOOK that all our beloved works are recorded in, and I think the latest upgrade to BOOK V9 is something that we should all welcome.'
No one said anything. He had our attention.
'Good. Well, I could rabbit on all day but I really feel that it would be better to let WordMaster Libris, all the way from Text Grand Central, tell you the full story. Xavier?'
11
Introducing Ultra Word™
"… First there was OralTrad, upgraded ten thousand years later by the rhyming (for easier recall) OralTradPlus. For thousands of years this was the only Story Operating System and it is still in use today. The system branched in two about twenty thousand years ago; on one side with CaveDaubPro (forerunner of PaintPlusV2.3, GrecianUrnV1.2, SculptMarble V1.4, and the latest, all-encompassing SuperArtisticExpression-5). The other strand, the Picto-Phonetic Storytelling Systems, started with ClayTablet V2.1 and went through several competing systems (WaxTablet, Papyrus, VellumPlus) before merging into the award-winning SCROLL, which was upgraded eight times to V3.5 before being swept aside by the all-new and clearly superior BOOK V1. Stable, easy to store and transport, compact and with a workable index, BOOK has led the way for nearly eighteen hundred years …'
WORDMASTER XAVIER LIBRIS –
Story Operating Systems – The Early Years
A small and rather pallid-looking man took his position on the dais; he could only just see over the lectern. He wore a white short-sleeved shirt and was almost weighed down by the number of pens in his top pocket. We all took a seat and gazed at him with interest; UltraWord™ had been the talk of the Well for ages and everyone was keen to learn whether the rumours of its technical virtuosity were true.
'Good morning, everyone,' began Libris in a nervous voice. 'Over the next thirty minutes I will try and explain a little about our latest operating system: BOOK Version 9, which we have code-named UltraWord™.'
There was silence as the agents mulled this over. I got the feeling in that this was not just important but really important. Like being at the signing of a peace accord or something. Even Bradshaw, who was no fan of technology, was leaning forward and listening with interest, a frown etched on his forehead.
Libris pulled the first sheet off a flipchart. There was a picture of an old book.
'Well,' he began, 'when we first came up with the "page" concept in BOOK V1 we thought we'd reached the zenith of story containment – compact, easy to read and, by using integrated PageNumber™ and SpineTitle™ technologies, we had a system of indexing far superior to anything SCROLL could offer. Over the years—'
Here he flipped the chart over to show us varying styles of books through the ages.
'—we have been refining the BOOK system. Illustrations were the first upgrade at 1.1, standardised spelling at V3.1 and vowel and irregular verb stability in V4.2. Today we use BOOK V8.3, one of the most stable and complex ImaginoTransference technologies ever devised – the smooth transfer of the written word into the reader's imagination has never been faster.'
He stopped for a moment. We all knew that BOOK V8.3 was excellent; apart from a few typos that crept in and the variable quality of stories – neither of which was the system's fault – it was good, very good indeed.
'Constructing the books down in the sub-basements, although time consuming, seems to work well, even if it is a little chaotic.'
There were murmurs of agreement from the assembled agents; it was clear that no one much liked it down there.
'But,' went on Libris, 'endlessly recycling old ideas might not hold the reader's attention for that much longer – the Council of Genres' own market research seems to indicate that readers are becoming bored with the sameness of plot lines.'
'I think it's already happened,' said the Bellman, then checked himself quickly, apologised for the interruption and let Libris carry on.
'But,' continued Libris, 'to understand the problem we need a bit of history. When we first devised the BOOK system eighteen hundred years ago, we designed it mainly to record events – we never thought there would be such a demand for story. By the tenth century story usage was so low that we still had enough new plots to last over a thousand years. By the time the seventeenth century arrived this had lowered to six hundred – but there was still no real cause for worry. Then, something happened that stretched the operating system to the limit.'
'Mass literacy,' put in Miss Havisham.
'Exactly,' replied Libris. 'Demand for written stories increased exponentially during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Ten years before Pamela was published in 1740 we had enough new ideas to last another four hundred years; by Dickens' time ideas were almost wholly recycled, something we have been doing on and off since the thirteenth century to stave off the inevitable. But by 1884, to all intents and purposes, we had depleted our stock of original ideas.'
There was muttering among the collected Jurisfiction agents.
'Flatland,' said Bradshaw after pausing for a moment's reflection. 'It was the last original idea, wasn't it?'
'Pretty much. The few leftover pieces were mopped up by the SF movement until the 1950s, but as far as pure ideas are concerned, 1884 was the end. We were expecting the worst – a meltdown of the whole BookWorld and a wholesale departure of readers. But that didn't happen. Against all expectations, recycled ideas were working.'
'But isn't it the way they are told?' asked Havisham in her not-to-be-argued-with voice. 'Surely the permutations of storytelling are endless!'
'Large perhaps, but not infinite, Miss Havisham. What I'm trying to say is that once all the permutations are used up there will be nowhere for us to go. The twentieth century has seen books being written and published at an unprecedented rate – even the introduction of the Procrastination1.3 and Writer'sBlock2.4 Outlander viruses couldn't slow the authors down. Plagiarism lawsuits are rising in the Outland; authors are beginning to write the same books. The way I see it we've got a year – possibly eighteen months – before the well of fiction runs dry.'
He paused to let this sink in.
'That's why we had to go back to the drawing board and rethink the whole situation.'
He flipped the chart again and there were audible gasps. On the chart was written '32-plot story systems'.
'As you know,' he went on, 'every Book Operating System has at its heart the basic eight-plot architecture we inherited from OralTrad. As we used to say: "No one will ever need more than eight plots.'"
'Nine if you count Coming of Age,' piped up Beatrice.
'Isn't that Journey of Discovery? said Tweed.
'What's Macbeth, then?' asked Benedict.
'Bitter Rivalry/Revenge, my dear,' answered Havisham.
'I thought it was Temptation,' mused Beatrice, who liked to contradict Benedict whenever possible.
'Please!' said the Bellman. 'We could argue these points all day. And if you let Libris finish, you can.'
The agents fell silent. I guessed this was a perennial argument.
'So the only way forward,' continued Libris, 'is to completely rebuild the operating system. If we go for a thirty-two-plot basis for our stories, there will be more ideas than you or I will know what to do with. The BookWorld won't have seen such an advance since the invention of movable type.'
'I'm always supportive of new technology, Mr Libris,' said Lady Cavendish kindly, 'but isn't the popularity of books a fair indication of how the good the current system actually is?'
'It depends what you mean by "popular". Only thirty per cent of the Outland read fiction on a regular basis – with UltraWord™ we aim to change all that. But I'm running ahead of myself – an abundance of new ideas is only half the story. Let me carry on and tell you what other benefits the new system will give us.'
He flipped the chart again. This time it read: 'Enhanced Features'.
'Firstly, UltraWord™ is wholly reverse compatible with all existing novels, plays and poetry. Furthermore, new books written with this system will offer bonus features that will enhance and delight.'
'I say,' asked Bradshaw slowly, 'how do you hope to improve a book?'
'Let me give you an example,' replied Libris enthusiastically. 'In books that we know at present, dialogue has to be dedicated to the people who are talking as the reader has no idea who is speaking from the words alone. This can be tricky if we want a large scene with many people talking to one another – it's very easy to get bogged down in the "… said George", "… replied Michael", "… added Paul" and suchlike; with the UltraWord™ Enhanced Character Identification™, a reader will have no trouble placing who is speaking to whom without all those tedious dialogue markers. In addition, UltraWord™ will be bundled with PlotPotPlus™, which gives the reader a potted précis if they are lost or have put the book down unfinished for a few months or more. Other options will be ReadZip™, PageGlow™ and three music tracks.'
'How will the reader get these new features to work?' asked Lady Cavendish.
'There will be a preferences page inserted just after the frontispiece.'
'Touch sensitive?' I asked.
'No,' replied Libris excitedly, 'read sensitive. Words that know when they are being read. On the preferences page you can also select WordClot™, which adjusts the vocabulary to the reader – no more difficult words, or, if you like difficult words, you can increase the vocabulary complexity.'
There was silence as everyone took this in.
'But to get back to your point, Lady Cavendish, a lot of people reject fiction because they find reading tedious and slow. At present levels the fastest throughput we can manage is about six words per second. With UltraWord™ we will have the technology to quadruple the uptake – something that will be very attractive to new readers.'
'Cards on the table and all that, Libris,' said Bradshaw in a loud voice. 'Technology is all very well but unless we get it absolutely right, it could turn out to be a debacle of the highest order.'
'You didn't like the ISBN positioning system either, Commander,' replied Libris, 'yet book navigation has never been easier.'
They stared at one another until a loud belch rent the air. It was Falstaff.
'I have lived,' he said, getting to his feet with a great deal of effort, 'through much in my time; some good, some bad – I was witness to the great vowel shift, and remember fondly those better days when puns, fat people and foreigners were funny beyond all. I saw the novel rise and the epic poem fall, I remember when you could get blind drunk, eat yourself ill and still have change for a whore out of sixpence. I remember when water would kill you and spirits would save you; I remember—'
'Is there a point to all this?' asked Libris testily.
'Ah!' replied Falstaff, trying to figure out where he was going with his speech. 'Oh, yes. I was there for the much-heralded Version 4 upgrade in 1841. "Change the way we read for ever," quoth the Council of Genres. And what happened? The Deep Text Crash. Almost everything by Euripides, Aeschylus and Sophocles gone for ever – and we created grammasites.'
'It was never proven that Version 4 created the grammasites, Sir John—'
'Come, come, Libris, have you dried your brain? I was there. I saw it. I know.'
Libris put up his hands.
'I didn't come here to argue, Sir John – I just want to stick to the facts. Anyhow, UltraWord™ is incompatible with grammasites; text will be locked – they'll have nothing to feed on.'
'You hope, sir.'
'We know,' replied Libris firmly, adding more slowly: 'Listen, Version 4 was a big mistake, we freely admit that – which is why we have taken so long to design and rigorously test UltraWord™. It is no small boast that we call it the Ultimate Reading Experience.'
He paused for a moment.
'It's here to stay, ladies and gentlemen – so get used to it.'
He expected another attack from Falstaff but King Hal's old friend had sat down and was shaking his head sadly. No one else added anything.
Libris took a step back and looked at the Bellman, who tingled his bell.
'Well, thank you all for listening to WordMaster Libris' presentation, and I would like to thank him for coming here today to tell us all about it.'
He started to clap his hands and we joined in – with the notable exceptions of Falstaff and Bradshaw.
'Presentation booklets will be available shortly,' said the Bellman. 'Individual assignments will be given out in ten minutes. And remember: let's be careful out there. That's it. Session's over.'
And he tingled his bell once more.
Libris stepped down from the dais and melted away before Bradshaw had a chance to question him further. Miss Havisham rested her hand on his shoulder. Bradshaw was the only man to whom I had ever seen Miss Havisham show any friendliness at all. Born of a long working association, I think.
'I'm too long in the tooth for this game, Havisham, old girl,' he muttered.
'You and me both, Trafford. But who'd teach the young ones?'
She nodded in my direction. I hadn't been described as 'young' for over a decade.
'I'm spent, Estella,' said Bradshaw sadly. 'No more new technology for me. I'm going back to my own book for good. At least I won't have to put up with all this nonsense in Bradshaw of the Congo. Goodbye, old girl.'
'Goodbye, Commander – send my regards to Mrs Bradshaw.'
'Thank you. And to you, too. Miss … I'm sorry, what was your name again?'
'Thursday Next.'
'Of course it is. Well, toodle-oo.'
And he smiled, tipped his pith helmet and was gone.
'Dear old Bradshaw.' Miss Havisham smiled. 'He's retired about twelve times a year since 1938. I expect we'll see him again next week.'
'Ah!' muttered the Bellman as he approached. 'Havisham and Next.'
He consulted his clipboard for a moment.
'You "weren't in the Outland on another land speed attempt, were you?'
'Me?' replied Havisham. 'Of course not!'
'Well,' murmured the Bellman, not believing her for an instant, 'the Council of Genres have told me that any Jurisfiction staff found abusing their privileges will be dealt with severely.'
'How severely?'
'They wouldn't dare,' replied Havisham haughtily. 'Now, what have you got for us?'
'You're chairing the Wuthering Heights rage counselling session.'
'I've done my six sessions,' replied Havisham. 'It's Falstaff's turn.'
'Now that's not true, is it?' replied the Bellman, 'You're only on your third. Changing counsellors every week is not the best way to do it. Everyone has to take their turn, Miss Havisham, even you.'
She sighed. 'Very well.'
'Good. Better not keep them waiting!'
The Bellman departed rapidly before Havisham could answer. She stood silently for a moment, a bit like a volcano deciding whether to erupt or not. After a few moments her eyes flicked to mine.
'Was that a smile?' she snapped.
'No, Miss Havisham,' I replied, trying to hide my inner amusement that someone like her would try to counsel anyone about anything – especially rage.
'Please do tell me what you think is so very funny,' she demanded. 'I really am very keen to know.'
'It was a smile,' I said carefully, 'of surprise.'
'Was it now?' she replied. 'Well, before you get the mistaken belief that I am somehow concerned about the feelings of such a pathetic bunch of characters, let's make it clear that I was ordered to do this job – same as being drafted on to Heathcliff Protection Duty. I'd sooner he were dead, personally speaking – but orders are orders. Fetch me a tea and meet me at my table.'
There was a lot of excited chatter about the upgrade to UltraWord™ and I picked up snatches of conversation that ran the full gamut from condemnation to full support. Not that it mattered; Jurisfiction was only a policing agency and had little say in policy – that was all up to the higher powers at the Council of Genres. It really was like being back at SpecOps. I bumped into Vernham Deane at the refreshment table.
'Well,' said Vernham, helping himself to a pastry, 'what do you think?'
'Bradshaw and Falstaff seem a bit put out.'
'Caution is sometimes an undervalued commodity,' he said warily. 'What does Havisham think?'
'I'm really not sure.'
'Vern!' said Beatrice, who had just joined us along with Lady Cavendish. 'Which plot does Winnie-the-Pooh have?'
'Triumph of the Underdog?' he suggested.
'Told you!' said Beatrice, turning to Cavendish. '"Bear with little brain triumphs over adversity." Happy?'
'No,' she replied. 'It's Journey of Discovery all the way.'
'You think every story is Journey of Discovery!'
'It is.'
They continued to bicker as I selected a cup and saucer.
'Have you met Mrs Bradshaw yet?' asked Deane.
I told him that I hadn't.
'When you do, don't laugh or anything.'
'Why?'
'You'll see.'
I poured some tea for Miss Havisham, remembering to put the milk in first. Deane ate a canapé and asked:
'How are things with you these days? Last time we met you were having a little trouble at home.'
'I'm living in the Well,' I told him, 'as part of the Character Exchange Programme.'
'Really?' he said. 'What a lark. How's the latest Farquitt getting along?'
'Well, I think,' I told him, always sensitive to Deane's slight shame at being a one-dimensional evil squire figure, 'the working title is Shameless Love.'
'Sounds like a Farquitt.' Deane sighed. 'There'll be someone like me in it – there usually is. Probably a rustic serving girl who is ravaged by someone like me, too – and then cruelly cast out to have her baby in the poorhouse only to have her revenge ten chapters later.
'Well, I don't know—'
'It's not fair, you know,' he said, his mood changing. 'Why should I be condemned, reading after reading, to drink myself to a sad and lonely death eight pages before the end?'
'Because you're the bad guy and they always get their comeuppance in Farquitt novels?'
'It's still not fair.' He scowled. 'I've applied for an Internal Plot Adjustment countless times but they keep turning me down. You wouldn't have a word with Miss Havisham, would you? She's on the Council of Genres Plot Adjustment subcommittee, I'm told.'
'Would that be appropriate?' I asked. 'Me talking to her, I mean? Shouldn't you go through the usual channels?'
'Not really,' he retorted, 'but I'm willing to try anything. Speak to her, won't you?'
I told him I would try but decided on the face of it that I probably wouldn't. Deane seemed pleasant enough at Jurisfiction but in The Squire of High Potternews he was a monster; dying sad, lonely and forgotten was probably just right for him – in narrative terms, anyway.
I gave the tea to Miss Havisham, who broke off talking to Perkins abruptly as I approached. She gave me a grimace and vanished. I followed her to the second floor of the Great Library, where I found her in the Brontë section already with a copy of Wuthering Heights in her hand. I knew that she probably did have a soft spot for Heathcliff – but I imagined it was only the treacherous marsh below Penistone Crag.
'Did you meet the three witches, by the way?' she asked.
'Yes,' I replied. 'They told me—'
'Ignore everything they say. Look at the trouble they got Macbeth into.'
'But they said—'
'I don't want to hear it. Claptrap and mumbo-jumbo. They are troublemakers and nothing more. Understand?'
'Sure.'
'Don't say "sure" – it's so slovenly! What's wrong with: "Yes, Miss Havisham"?'
'Yes, Miss Havisham.'
'Better, I suppose. Come, we are Brontë bound!'
And we read ourselves into the pages of Wuthering Heights.
12
Wuthering Heights
'Wuthering Heights was the only novel written by Emily Brontë, which some say is just as well, and others, a crying shame. Quite what she would have written had she lived longer is a matter of some conjecture; given Emily's strong-willed and passionate character, probably more of the same. But one thing is certain; whatever feelings are aroused in the reader by Heights, whether sadness for the ill-matched lovers, irritability at Catherine's petulant ways or even profound rage at how stupid Heathcliff's victims can act as they meekly line up to be abused, one thing is for sure: the evocation of a wild and windswept place that so well reflects the destructive passion of the two central characters is captured here brilliantly – and some would say, it has not been surpassed.'
MILLON DE FLOSS –
Wuthering Heights: Masterpiece or Turgid Rubbish?
It was snowing when we arrived and the wind whipped the flakes into something akin to a large cloud of excitable winter midges. The house was a lot smaller than I imagined but no less shabby, even under the softening cloak of snow; the shutters hung askew and only the faintest glimmer of light showed from within. It was clear we were visiting the house not in the good days of old Mr Earnshaw but in the tenure of Mr Heathcliff, whose barbaric hold over the house seemed to be reflected in the dour and windswept abode that we approached.
Our feet crunched on the fresh snow as we arrived at the front door and rapped upon the gnarled wood. It was answered, after a very long pause, by an old and sinewy man – who looked at us both in turn with a sour expression before recognition dawned across his tired features and he launched into an excited gabble:
'It's bonny behaviour, lurking amang t' fields, after twelve o' t' night, wi' that fahl, flaysome divil of a gipsy, Heathcliff! They think I'm blind; but I'm noan: nowt ut t' soart! – I seed young Linton boath coming and going, and I seed YAH, yah gooid-fur-nowt, slatternly witch! nip up and bolt into th' house, t' minute yah heard t' maister's horse-fit clatter up t' road!'
'Never mind all that!' exclaimed Miss Havisham, to whom patience was an alien concept. 'Let us in, Joseph, or you'll be feeling my boot upon your trousers!'
He grumbled but opened the door anyway. We stepped in amongst a swirl of snowflakes and tramped our feet upon the mat as the door was latched behind us.
'What did he say?' I asked as Joseph carried on muttering to himself under his breath.
'I have absolutely no idea,' replied Miss Havisham, shaking the snow from her faded bridal veil. 'In fact, nobody does. Come, you are to meet the others. For the rage counselling session, we insist that every major character within Heights attends.'
There was no introductory lobby or passage to the room. The front door opened into a large family sitting room where six people were clustered around the hearth. One of the men rose politely and inclined his head in greeting. This, I learned later, was Edgar Linton, husband of Catherine Earnshaw, who sat next to him on the wooden settle and glowered meditatively into the fire. Next to them was a dissolute-looking man who appeared to be asleep, or drunk, or quite possibly both. It was clear that they were waiting for us, and equally clear from the lack of enthusiasm that counselling wasn't high on their list of priorities – or interests.
'Good evening, everyone,' said Miss Havisham, 'and I'd like to thank you all for attending this Jurisfiction Rage Counselling session.'
She sounded almost friendly; it was quite out of character and I wondered how long she could keep it up.
'This is Miss Next, who will be observing this evening's session,' she went on. 'Now, I want us all to join hands and create a circle of trust to welcome her to the group. Where's Heathcliff?'
'I have no idea where that scoundrel might be!' declaimed Linton angrily. 'Face down in a bog for all I care – the devil may take him and not before time!'
'Oh!' cried Catherine, withdrawing her hand from Edgar's. 'Why do you hate him so? He, who loved me more than you ever could—!'
'Now, now,' interrupted Havisham in a soothing tone. 'Remember what we said last week about name-calling? Edgar, I think you should apologise to Catherine for calling Heathcliff a scoundrel, and Catherine, you did promise last week not to mention how much you were in love with Heathcliff in front of your husband.'
They grumbled their apologies.
'Heathcliff is due here any moment,' said another servant, who I assumed was Nelly Dean. 'His agent said he had to do some publicity. Can we not start without him?'
Miss Havisham looked at her watch.
'We could get past the introductions, I suppose,' she replied, obviously keen to finish this up and go home. 'Perhaps we could introduce ourselves to Miss Next and sum up our feelings at the same time. Edgar, would you mind?'
'Me? Oh, very well. My name is Edgar Linton, true owner of Thrushcross Grange, and I hate and despise Heathcliff because no matter what I do, my wife Catherine is still in love with him.'
'My name is Hindley Earnshaw,' slurred the drunk, 'old Mr Earnshaw's eldest son. I hate and despise Heathcliff because my father preferred Heathcliff to me, and later, because that scoundrel cheated me out of my birthright.'
'That was very good, Hindley,' said Miss Havisham, 'not one single swear word. I think we're making good progress. Who's next?'
'I am Hareton Earnshaw,' said a sullen-looking youth who stared at the table as he spoke and clearly resented these gatherings more than most, 'son of Hindley and Frances. I hate and despise Heathcliff because he treats me as little more than a dog – and it's not as though I did anything against him, neither; he punishes me because my father treated him like a servant.'
'I am Isabella,' announced a good-looking woman, 'sister of Edgar. I hate and despise Heathcliff because he lied to me, abused me, beat me and tried to kill me. Then, after I was dead, he stole our son and used him to gain control of the Linton inheritance.'
'Lot of rage in that one,' whispered Miss Havisham. 'Do you see a pattern beginning to emerge?'
'That they don't much care for Heathcliff?' I whispered back.
'Does it show that badly?' she replied, a little crestfallen that her counselling didn't seem to be working as well as she'd hoped.
'I am Catherine Linton,' said a confident and headstrong young girl of perhaps no more than sixteen, 'daughter of Edgar and Catherine. I hate and despise Heathcliff because he kept me prisoner for five days away from my dying father to force me to marry Linton – solely to gain the title of Thrushcross Grange, the true Linton residence.'
'I am Linton,' announced a very sickly looking child, coughing into a pocket handkerchief, 'son of Heathcliff and Isabella. I hate and despise Heathcliff because he took away the only possible happiness I might have known, and let me die a captive, a pawn in his struggle for ultimate revenge.'
'Hear, hear,' murmured Catherine Linton.
'I am Catherine Earnshaw,' said the last woman, who looked around at the small group disdainfully, 'and I love Heathcliff more than life itself!'
The group groaned audibly, several members shook their heads sadly and the younger Catherine did the 'fingers down throat' gesture.
'None of you know him the way I do, and if you had treated him with kindness instead of hatred none of this would have happened!'
'Deceitful harlot!' yelled Hindley, leaping to his feet. 'If you hadn't decided to marry Edgar for power and position, Heathcliff might have been half reasonable – no, you brought all this on yourself, you selfish little minx!'
There was applause at this, despite Havisham's attempts to keep order.
'He is a real man,' continued Catherine, amid a barracking from the group, 'a Byronic hero who transcends moral and social law; my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks. Group, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being!'
Isabella thumped the table and waved her finger angrily at Catherine.
'A real man would love and cherish the one he married,' she shouted, 'not throw a carving knife at her and use and abuse all those around him in a never-ending quest for ultimate revenge for some perceived slight of twenty years ago! So what if Hindley treated him badly? A good Christian man would forgive him and learn to live in peace!'
'Ah!' said the young Catherine, also jumping up and yelling to be heard above the uproar of accusations and pent-up frustrations. 'There we have the nub of the problem. Heathcliff is as far from Christian as one can be; a devil in human form who seeks to ruin all those about him!'
'I agree with Catherine,' said Linton weakly. 'The man is wicked and rotten to the core!'
'Come outside and say that!' yelled the elder Catherine, brandishing a fist.
'You would have him catch a chill and die, I suppose?' replied the younger Catherine defiantly, glaring at the mother who had died giving birth to her. 'It was your haughty spoilt airs that got us into this whole stupid mess in the first place! If you loved him as much as you claim, why didn't you just marry him and have done with it?'
'CAN WE HAVE SOME ORDER PLEASE!' yelled Miss Havisham so loudly that the whole group jumped. They looked a bit sheepish and sat down, grumbling slightly.
'Thank you. Now, all this yelling is not going to help, and if we are to do anything about the rage inside Wuthering Heights we are going to have to act like civilised human beings and discuss our feelings sensibly.'
'Hear, hear,' said a voice from the shadows. The group fell silent and turned in the direction of the newcomer, who stepped into the light accompanied by two minders and someone who looked like his agent. The newcomer was dark, swarthy and extremely handsome. Up until meeting him I had never comprehended why the characters in Wuthering Heights behaved in the sometimes irrational ways that they did; but after witnessing the glowering good looks, the piercing dark eyes, I understood. Heathcliffhad an almost electrifying charisma; he could have charmed a cobra into a knot.
'Heathcliff!' cried Catherine, leaping into his arms and hugging him tightly. 'Oh, Heathcliff, my darling, how much I've missed you!'
'Bah!' cried Edgar, swishing his cane through the air in anger. 'Put down my wife immediately or I swear to God I shall—'
'Shall what?' enquired Heathcliff. 'You gutless popinjay! My dog has more valour in its pizzle than you possess in your entire body! And Linton, you weakling, what did you say about me being "wicked and rotten"?'
'Nothing,' said Linton quietly.
'Mr Heathcliff,' said Miss Havisham sternly, 'it doesn't pay to be late for these sessions, nor to aggravate your co-characters.'
'The devil take your sessions, Miss Havisham,' he said angrily. 'Who is the star of this novel? Who do the readers expect to see when they pick up this book? Me. Who has won the "Most Troubled Romantic Lead" at the BookWorld Awards seventy-seven times in a row? Me. All me. Without me, Heights is a tediously overlong provincial potboiler of insignificant interest. I am the star of this book and I'll do as I please, my lady, and you can take that to the Bellman, the Council, or all the way to the Great Panjandrum for all I care!'
He pulled a signed glossy photo of himself from his breast pocket and passed it to me with a wink. The odd thing was, I actually recognised him. He had been acting with great success in Hollywood under the name of Buck Stallion, which probably explained where he got his money from; he could have bought Thrushcross Grange and Wuthering Heights three times over on his salary.
'The Council of Genres has decreed that you will attend the sessions, Heathcliff,' said Havisham coldly. 'If this book is to survive we have to control the emotions within it; as it is the novel is three times more barbaric than when first penned – left to its own devices it won't be long before murder and mayhem start to take over completely. Remember what happened to that once gentle comedy of manners, Titus Andronicus? It's now the daftest, most cannibalistic bloodfest in the whole of Shakespeare. Heights will go the same way unless you can all somehow contain your anger and resentment!'
'I don't want to be made into a pie!' moaned Linton.
'Brave speech,' replied Heathcliff sardonically, 'very brave.' He leaned closer to Miss Havisham, who stood her ground defiantly. 'Let me "share" something with your little group. Wuthering Heights and all who live within her may go to the devil for all I care. It has served its purpose as I honed the delicate art of treachery and revenge – but I'm now bigger than this book and bigger than all of you. There are better novels waiting for me out there, that know how to properly service a character of my depth!'
There was a gasp from the assembled characters as this new intelligence sank in. Without Heathcliff there would be no book – and in consequence, none of them, either.
'You wouldn't make it into Spot's Birthday without the Council's permission,' growled Havisham. 'Try and leave Heights and we'll make you wish you'd never been written!'
Heathcliff laughed.
'Nonsense! The Council has urgent need of characters such as I; leaving me stuck in the classics where I am only ever read by bored English students is a waste of one of the finest romantic leads ever written. Mark my words, the Council will do whatever it takes to attract a greater readership – a transfer will not be opposed by them or anyone else, I can assure you of that!'
'What about us?' wailed Linton, coughing and on the verge of tears. 'We'll be reduced to text!'
'Best thing for all of you!' growled Heathcliff. 'And I'll be there at the shoreline, ready to rejoice at your last strangled cry as you dip beneath the waves!'
'And me?' asked Catherine.
'You will come with me.' Heathcliff smiled, softening. 'You and I will live again in a modern novel, without all these trappings of Victorian rectitude; I thought we could reside in a spy thriller somewhere, and have a boxer puppy with one ear that goes down—'
There was a loud detonation and the front door exploded inwards in a cloud of wood splinters and dust. Havisham instantly pushed Heathcliff to the ground and laid herself across him, yelling:
'Take cover!'
She fired her small derringer as a masked man jumped through the smoking doorway firing a machine gun. Havisham's bullet struck home and the figure crumpled in a heap. One of Heathcliff's two minders took rounds in the neck and chest from the first assailant but the second minder pulled out his own sub-machine gun and opened up as more assassins ran in. Linton fainted on the spot, quickly followed by Isabella and Edgar. At least it stopped them screaming. I drew my gun and fired along with the minder and Havisham as another masked figure came through the door; we got him but one of his bullets caught the second bodyguard in the head, and he dropped lifeless to the flags. I crawled across to Havisham and also laid myself across Heathcliff, who whimpered:
'Help me! Don't let them kill me! I don't want to die!'
'Shut up!' yelled Havisham, and Heathcliff was instantly quiet. I looked around. His agent was cowering under a briefcase and the rest of the cast were hiding beneath the oak table. There was a pause.
'What's going on?' I hissed.
'ProCath attack,' murmured Havisham, reloading her pistol in the sudden quiet. 'Support of the young Catherine and hatred of Heathcliff run deep in the BookWorld; usually it's only a lone gunman – I've never seen anything this well coordinated before. I'm going to jump out with Heathcliff; I'll be back for you straight away.'
She mumbled a few words but nothing happened. She tried them again out loud but still nothing.
'The devil take them!' she muttered, pulling her mobile footnoterphone from the folds of her wedding dress. 'They must be using a textual sieve.'
'What's a textual sieve?'
'I don't know – it's never fully explained.'
She looked at the mobile footnoterphone and shook it despairingly.
'Blast! No signal. Where's the nearest footnoterphone?'
'In the kitchen,' replied Nelly Dean, 'next to the bread basket.'
'We have to get word to the Bellman. Thursday, I want you to go to the kitchen—'
But she never got to finish her sentence as a barrage of machine-gun fire struck the house, decimating the windows and shutters; the curtains danced as they were shredded, the plaster erupting off the wall as the shots slammed into it. We kept our heads down as Catherine screamed, Linton woke up only to faint again, Hindley took a swig from a hip flask and Heathcliff convulsed with fear beneath us. After about ten minutes the firing stopped. Dust hung lazily in the air and we were covered with plaster, shards of glass and wood chips.
'Havisham!' said a voice on a bullhorn from outside. 'We wish you no harm! Just surrender Heathcliff and we'll leave you alone!'
'No!' cried the older Catherine, who had crawled across to us and was trying to clasp Heathcliff's head in her hands. 'Heathcliff, don't leave me!'
'I have no intention of doing any such thing,' he said in a muffled voice, nose pressed hard into the flags by myself and Havisham's combined weight. 'Havisham, I hope you remember your orders.'
'Send out Heathcliff and we will spare you and your apprentice!' yelled the bullhorn again. 'Stand in our way and you'll both be terminated!'
'Do they mean it?' I asked.
'Oh, yes,' replied Havisham grimly. 'A group of ProCaths attempted to hijack Madame Bovary last year to force the Council to relinquish Heathcliff.'
'What happened?'
'The ones who survived were reduced to text,' replied Havisham, 'but it hasn't stopped the ProCath movement. Do you think you can get to the footnoterphone?'
'Sure – I mean, yes, Miss Havisham.'
I crawled towards the kitchen.
'We'll give you two minutes,' said the voice on the bullhorn again. 'After that, we're coming in.'
'I have a better deal,' yelled Havisham.
There was pause.
'And that is?' spoke the bullhorn.
'Leave now and I will be merciful when I find you.'
'I think,' replied the voice on the bullhorn, 'that we'll stick to my plan. You have one minute forty-five seconds.'
I reached the doorway of the kitchen, which was as devastated as the living room. Flour and beans from broken storage jars were strewn across the floor and a flurry of snowflakes were blowing in through the windows. I found the footnoterphone; it had been riddled with machine-gun fire. I cursed and crawled rapidly back towards the living room. I caught Havisham's eye and shook my head. She signalled for me to look out the back way and I did, going into the darkness of the pantry to peer out. I could see two of them, sitting in the snow, weapons ready. I dashed back to Havisham.
'How does it look?'
'Two at the back that I can see.'
'And at least three at the front,' she added. 'I'm open to suggestions.'
'How about giving them Heathcliff?' came a chorus of voices.
'Other than that?'
'I can try and get behind them,' I muttered, 'if you keep them pinned down—'
I was interrupted by an unearthly cry of terror from outside, followed by a sort of crunching noise, then another cry and sporadic machine-gun fire. There was a large thump and another shot, then a cry, then the ProCaths at the back started to open fire, too; but not at the house – at some unseen menace. Havisham and I exchanged looks and shrugged as a man came running into the house in panic; he was still holding his pistol, and because of that, his fate was sealed. Havisham fired two shots into him and he fell stone dead next to us, a look of abject terror on his face. There were a few more gunshots, another agonised cry, then silence. I shivered, and got up to peer cautiously from the door. There was nothing outside except the soft snow, disturbed occasionally by foot marks.
We found only one body, tossed on to the roof of the barn, but there was a great deal of blood, and what looked like the paw tracks of something very large and feline. I was staring at the dinner-plate-sized footprint slowly being obscured by the falling snow when Havisham laid her hand on my shoulder.
'Big Martin,' she said softly. 'He must have been following you.'
'Is he still?' I asked, understandably concerned.
'Who knows?' replied Miss Havisham. 'Big Martin is a law unto himself. Come back inside.'
We returned to where the cast were dusting themselves down. Joseph was muttering to himself and trying to block the windows up with blankets.
'Well,' said Miss Havisham, clapping her hands together, 'that was an exciting session, wasn't it?'
'I am still leaving this appalling book,' retorted Heathcliff, who was back on full obnoxious form again.
'No you're not,' replied Havisham.
'You just try and stop—'
Miss Havisham, who was fed up with pussyfooting around and hated men like Heathcliff with a vengeance, grasped him by the collar and pinned his head to the table with a well-placed gun barrel pressed painfully into his neck.
'Listen here,' she said, her voice quavering with anger, 'to me, you are worthless scum. Thank your lucky stars I am loyal to Jurisfiction. Many others in my place would have handed you over. I could kill you now and no one would be any the wiser.'
Heathcliff looked at me imploringly.
'I was outside when I heard the shot,' I told him.
So were we!' exclaimed the rest of the cast eagerly, excepting Catherine Earnshaw, who simply scowled.
'Perhaps I should do it!' growled Havisham again. 'Perhaps it would be a mercy. I could make it look like an accident—!'
'No!' cried Heathcliff in a contrite tone. 'I've changed my mind. I in going to stay right here and just be plain old Mr Heathcliff for ever and ever.'
Havisham stared at him and slowly released her grasp.
'Right,' she said, switching her pistol to safe and regaining her breath, 'I think that pretty much concludes this session of Jurisfiction Rage Counselling. What did we learn?'
The co-characters all stared at her, dumbstruck.
'Good. Same time next week, everyone?'
14
Educating the Generics
'Generics were the chameleons of the Well. In general they were trained to do specific jobs but could be upgraded if the need arose. Occasionally a Generic would jump up spontaneously within the grade, but to jump from one grade to another without external help, they said, was impossible. From what I would learn, "impossible" was a word that should not be bandied about the Well without due thought. Imagination being what it is, anything could happen – and generally did.'
THURSDAY NEXT – The Jurisfiction Chronicles
I made it home on my own after the 'mopping up' had finished in Wuthering Heights. The leader of the ProCath cell was well known to Jurisfiction, and preferred our guns on the inside to Big Martin's teeth on the outside. The house was repaired within a few lines, and because Havisham had been holding the rage counselling session between chapters, no one reading the book noticed anything. In fact, the only evidence of the attack now to be seen in the book was Hareton's shotgun, which exploded accidentally in chapter thirty-two, most likely as a result of a ricocheting bullet damaging the latching mechanism.
'How was your day today?' asked Gran.
'Very … expositional to begin with,' I said, falling into the sofa and tickling Pickwick, who had come over all serious and matronly, 'but it ended quite dramatically.'
'Did you have to be rescued again?'
'Not this time.'
'The first few days in a new job are always a bit shaky,' said Gran. 'Why do you have to work for Jurisfiction anyway?'
'It was part of the Exchange Programme deal.'
'Oh, yes,' she replied. 'Would you like me to make you an omelette?'
'Anything.'
'Right. I'll need you to crack the eggs and mix them and get me down the saucepan and …'
I heaved myself up and went through to the small galley, where the fridge was full of food, as always.
'Where's ibb and obb?' I asked.
'Out, I think,' replied Gran. 'Would you make us both a cup of tea while you're up?'
'Sure. I still can't remember Landen's second name, Gran – I've been trying all day.'
Gran came into the galley and sat on a kitchen stool, which happened to be right in the way of everything. She smelt of sherry, but for the life of me I didn't know where she hid it.
'But you remember what he looks like?'
I stopped what I was doing and stared out of the kitchen porthole.
'Yes,' I replied slowly, 'every line, every mole, every expression – but I still remember him dying in the Crimea.'
'That never happened, my dear,' she exclaimed. 'But the fact – I should use a bigger bowl if I were you – that you can remember his features proves he's not gone any more than yesterday. I should use butter and not oil; and if you have any mushrooms you could chop them up with a bit of onion and bacon – do you have any bacon?'
'Probably. You still haven't told me how you managed to find your way here, Gran.'
'That's easily explained,' she said. 'Tell me, did you manage to get a list of the most dull books you could find?'
Granny Next was one hundred and eight years old and was convinced that she couldn't die until she had read the ten most boring classics. On an earlier occasion I had suggested The Faerie Queene, Paradise Lost, Ivanhoe, Moby-Dick, A la recherche du temps perdu, Pamela and A Pilgrim's Progress. She had read them all and many others but was still with us. Trouble is, 'boring' is about as hard to quantify as 'pretty', so I really had to think of the ten books that she would find most boring.
'What about Silas Marner?'
'Only boring in parts – like Hard Times. You're going to have to do a little better than that – and if I were you I'd use a bigger pan, but on a lower heat.'
'Right,' I said, beginning to get annoyed, 'perhaps you'd like to cook? You've done most of the work so far.'
'No, no,' replied Gran, completely unfazed, 'you're doing fine.'
There was a commotion at the door and Ibb came in, followed closely by Obb.
'Congratulations!' I called out.
'What for?' asked Ibb, who was looking surprisingly different to Obb. For a start, Obb was at least four inches taller and its hair was darker than Ibb's, who was beginning to go blond.
'For becoming capitalised.'
'Oh, yes,' enthused Ibb, 'it's amazing what a day at St Tabularasa's will do for one. Tomorrow we'll finish our gender training and by the end of the week we'll be streamed into character groups.'
'I want to be a male mentor figure,' said Obb. 'Our tutor said that sometimes we can have a choice of what we do and where we go. Are you making supper?'
'No,' I replied, testing their sarcasm response, 'I'm giving my pet egg heat therapy.'
Ibb laughed – which was a good sign, I thought – and went off with Obb to practise whimsical retorts in case either of them was given a posting as a humorous sidekick.
'Teenagers,' said Granny Next, 'tch. I'd better make it a bigger omelette. Take over, would you? I'm going to have a rest.'
We all sat down to eat twenty minutes later. Obb had brushed its hair into a parting and Ibb was wearing one of Gran's gingham dresses.
'Hoping to be female?' I asked, passing Ibb a plate.
'Yes,' replied Ibb, 'but not one like you. I'd like to be more feminine and a bit hopeless – the sort that screams a lot when they get into trouble and have to be rescued.'
'Really?' I asked, handing Gran the salad. 'Why?'
Ibb shrugged. 'I don't know. I just like the idea of being rescued a lot, that's all – being carried off in big strong arms sort of … appeals. I thought I could have the plot explained to me a lot, too – but I should have a few good lines of my own, be quite vulnerable, yet end up saving the day owing to a sudden flash of idiot savant brilliance.'
'I think you'll have no trouble getting a placement.' I sighed. 'But you seem quite specific – have you used someone in particular as a model?'
'Her!' exclaimed Ibb, drawing out a much-thumbed Outland copy of Silverscreen from beneath the table. On the cover was none other than Lola Vavoom, being interviewed for the umpteenth time about her husbands, her denial of any cosmetic surgery and her latest film – usually in that order.
'Gran!' I said sternly. 'Did you give Ibb that magazine?'
'Well—!'
'You know how impressionable Generics can be! Why didn't you give it a magazine with Jenny Gudgeon in it? She plays proper women– and can act, too.'
'Have you seen Ms Vavoom in My Sister Kept Geese'?' replied Gran indignantly. 'I think you'd be surprised – she shows considerable range.'
I thought about Cordelia Flakk and her producer friend Harry Flex wanting Lola to play me in a film. The idea was too awful to contemplate.
'You were going to tell us about subtext,' said Obb, helping itself to more salad.
'Oh, yes,' I replied, a distraction from Vavoom a welcome break. 'Subtext is the implied action behind the written word. Text tells the reader what the characters say and do but subtext tells us what they mean and feel. The wonderful thing about subtext is that it is common grammar, written in human experience – you can't understand it without a good working knowledge of people and how they interact. Got it?'
Ibb and Obb looked at one another.
'No.'
'Okay, let me give you a simple example. At a party, a man gives a woman a drink and she takes it without answering. What's going on?'
'She isn't very polite?' suggested Ibb.
'Perhaps,' I replied, 'but I was really looking for some sort of clue as to their relationship.'
Obb scratched its head and said: 'She can't speak because – er – she lost her tongue in an industrial accident owing to his negligence?'
'You're trying too hard. For what reason would someone not necessarily say "thank you" for something?'
'Because,' said Ibb slowly, 'they know one another?'
'Good. Being handed a drink at a party by your wife, husband, girlfriend or partner, you would as likely as not just take it; if it was from a host to a guest, then you would thank them. Here's another: there is a couple walking down the road – and she is walking eight paces behind him.'
'He has longer legs?' suggested Ibb.
'No.'
'They've broken down?'
'They've had an argument,' said Obb excitedly, 'and they live near by or they would be taking their car.'
'Could be,' I responded. 'Subtext tells you lots of things. Ibb, did you take the last piece of chocolate from the fridge?'
There was a pause.
'Well, because you paused I know pretty confidently that you did.'
'Oh!' said Ibb. 'I'll remember that.'
There was a knock at the door.
I opened it to reveal Mary's ex-beau Arnold looking very dapper in a suit and holding a small bunch of flowers. Before he had time to open his mouth I had closed the door again.
'Ah!' I said, turning to Ibb and Obb. 'This is a good opportunity to study subtext. See if you can figure out what is going on behind our words – and Ibb, please don't feed Pickwick at the table.'
I opened the door again and Arnold, who had started to slink off, came running back.
'Oh!' he said with mock surprise. 'Mary not back yet?'
'No,' I replied. 'In fact, she probably won't be back for some time. Can I take a message?'
And I closed the door on him again.
'Okay,' I said to Ibb and Obb. 'What do you think is going on?'
'He's looking for Mary?' suggested Ibb.
'But he knows she's gone away,' said Obb. 'He must be coming to speak to you, Thursday.'
'Why?'
'Good. What am I saying to him?'
Ibb and Obb thought hard.
'If you didn't want to see him you'd have told him to go away, so you might be the tiniest bit interested.'
'Excellent!' I told them. 'Let's see what happens next.'
I opened the door again to a confused-looking Arnold, who broke into a wide smile.
'Well,' he said, 'no message for Mary. It's just – we had planned to see Willow Lodge and the Limes this evening …'
I turned to Ibb and Obb, who shook their heads. They didn't believe it either.
'Well …' said Arnold slowly. '… perhaps you might like to come with me to the concert?'
I shut the door again.
'He pretended to have the idea about going to see Willow Lodge tonight,' said Ibb slowly and more confidently, 'when in fact I think he had it planned all along that way. I think he fancies you big time.'
I opened the door again.
'I'm sorry, no,' I told him hastily. 'Happily married.'
'It's not a date,' exclaimed Arnold quickly, just a lift to a concert. Here, take the ticket anyway. I've no one else to give it to; if you don't want to go, just bin it.'
I shut the door again.
'Ibb's wrong,' said Obb. 'He really fancies you, but he's blown it by being too desperate – it would be hard for you to respect someone who would almost start begging.'
'Not bad,' I replied. 'Let's see how it turns out.'
I opened the door again and stared into Arnold's earnest eyes.
'You miss her, don't you?'
'Miss who?' asked Arnold, seemingly nonchalant.
'Denial of love!' yelled Ibb and Obb from behind me. 'He doesn't really fancy you at all – he's in love with Mary and wants a date on the rebound!'
Arnold looked suspicious.
'What's going on?'
'Subtext classes,' I explained. 'Sorry for being rude. Do you want to come in for a coffee?'
'Well, I should be going really—'
'Playing hard to get!' hooted Ibb, and Obb added quickly: 'The balance of power has tipped in his favour because you've been rude to him with all that door nonsense, and now you're going to have to insist that he comes in for coffee, even if that means being nicer to him than you originally intended!'
'Are they always like this?' enquired Arnold, stepping inside.
'They learn fast,' I observed. 'That's Ibb and that's Obb. Ibb and Obb, this is Arnold.'
'Hello!' said Arnold, thinking for a moment. 'Do you Generics want to go and see Willow Lodge and the Limes?'
They looked at one another for a moment, realised they were sitting just that little bit too close, and moved apart.
'Do you?' said Ibb.
'Well, only if you want to—'
'I'm easy – it's your decision.'
'Well, y-es, I'd really like to.'
'Then let's go – unless you've made other plans—?'
'No, no, I haven't.'
They got up, took the tickets from Arnold and were out the door in a flash.
I laughed and went through to the galley.
'Who's the elderly woman?' asked Arnold.
'It's my gran,' I replied, switching on the kettle and getting out the coffee.
'Is she … you know?'
'Goodness me no!' I exclaimed. 'She's only asleep. She's one hundred and eight.'
'Really? Why is she dressed in this dreadful blue gingham?'
'Has been for as long as I can remember. She came here to make sure I didn't forget my husband. Sorry. That makes me sound as though I'm labouring the point, doesn't it?'
'Listen,' said Arnold, 'don't worry. I didn't mean to come over all romantic just then. But Mary, well, she's quite something, you know, and I'm not just in love with her because I was written that way – this one's for real. Like Nelson and Emma, Bogart and Bacall—'
'Finch-Hatton and Blixen. Yes, I know. I've been there.'
'Denys was in love with Baron Blixen?'
'Karen Blixen.'
He sat down and I placed a coffee in front of him.
'So, tell me about your husband.'
'Hah!' I said, smiling. 'You don't want me to bore you about Landen.'
'It's not boring. You listen to me when I hark on about Mary.'
I stirred my coffee absently, running through my memories of Landen to make sure they were all there. Gran mumbled something about lobsters in her sleep.
'It must have been a hard decision to come and hide out here,' said Arnold quietly. 'I don't imagine Thursdays generally do that sort of thing.'
'You're right,' I replied, 'they don't. But sometimes falling back and regrouping is not the same as running away.'
'Tactical withdrawal?'
'Right. What would you do to get together with Mary again?'
'Anything.'
'And I with Landen. I will get him back – just not quite yet. But the strange thing is,' I added slightly wistfully, 'when he comes back he won't even know he's been gone – it's not as though he's waiting for me to reactualise him.'
We chatted for about an hour. He told me about the Well and I talked about the Outland. He was just trying to get me to repeat 'irrelevant benevolent elephant' when Gran woke up with a yell, shouting: 'The French! The French!' and had to be calmed down with a glass of warm whisky before I put her to bed.
'I'd better be going,' said Arnold. 'Mind if I drop round again?'
'Not at all,' I replied, 'that would be nice.'
I went to bed after that and was still awake when Ibb and Obb returned from the concert. They were giggling and made a very noisy cup of tea before retiring. I lay back and tried to sleep, hoping that I would dream of being back at our house, the one that Landen and I shared when we were married. Failing that, on holiday somewhere. Failing that when we first met, and if that wasn't available, an argument – and lastly, anything with Landen in it at all. Aornis, however, had other ideas.
15
Landen Parke-somebody
'Before Aornis Hades, the existence of mnemonomorphs was suspected only by SO-5 who, through deceit, idleness or forgetfulness, never told anyone else. The files on mnemonomorphs are kept in eight different locations and updated automatically between each location every week. An ability to control entropy does not necessarily go with the skill to alter memories; indeed, Aornis has been the only entity (thus far that we know about) who can do such a thing. As Miss Next demonstrated between 1986 and 1987, mnemonomorphs are not without their Achilles heel. There is one question we would all like to know about Aornis, however, since no physical evidence of her remains: was she real, or just a bad memory?'
BLAKE LAMME (EX-SO-5) –
Remember Them? A Study of Mnemonomorphs
'Dear, sweet Thursday!' muttered a patronising voice that was chillingly familiar. I opened my eyes. I was on the roof of Thornfield Hall, Rochester's house in Jane Eyre. It was the time and place of the final showdown with Acheron Hades. The old house was on fire and I could feel the roof growing hot beneath my feet. I coughed in the smoke and felt my eyes begin to smart. Next to me was Edward Rochester, cradling a badly wounded hand. Acheron had already thrown Rochester's poor wife Bertha over the parapet and he was now preparing to finish us both off.
'Sweet madness, eh?' He laughed. 'Jane is with her cousins; the narrative is with her, and I have the manual!'
He waved it at me, deposited it in his pocket and picked up his gun.
'Who's first?'
I ignored Hades and looked around. The patronising 'Dear, sweet Thursday!' voice had not been his – it had belonged to Aornis. She was wearing the same designer clothes as she had when I last saw her – she was only a memory, after all.
'Hey!' said Acheron. I'm talking to you!'
I turned and dutifully fired and Hades caught the approaching bullet – as he had when this happened for real. He opened his fist; the slug was flattened into a small lead disc. He smiled and a shower of sparks flew up behind him.
But I wasn't so interested in Acheron this time around.
'Aornis!' I shouted. 'Show yourself, coward!'
'No coward I!' said Aornis, stepping from behind a large chimney piece.
'What are you doing to me?' I asked angrily, pointing my gun at her. She didn't seem to be in the least put out – in fact, she seemed more concerned with preventing the dirt from the roof soiling her suede shoes.
'Welcome.' She laughed. 'To the museum of your mind!'
The roof at Thornfield vanished and was replaced by the interior of the abandoned church where Spike and I were about to do battle with the Supreme Evil Being that was stuck in his head. It had happened for real a few weeks ago; the memories were still fresh – it was all chillingly lifelike.
'I am the curator in this museum,' said Aornis as we moved again to the dining room at home when I was eight, a small girl with pigtails and as precocious as they come. My father – before his eradication, of course – was carving the roast and telling me that if I kept on being a nuisance I would be made to go to my room.
'Familiar to you?' asked Aornis. 'I can call on any of the exhibits I want. Do you remember this?'
And we were back on the banks of the Thames, during my father's abortive attempt to rescue the two-year-old Landen. I felt the fear, the hopelessness squeezing my chest so tight I could barely breathe. I sobbed.
'I can run it again if you want to. I can run it for you every night for ever. Or I can delete it completely. How about this one?'
Night came on and we were in the area of Swindon where young couples go with their cars to get a bit of privacy. I had come here with Darren, a highly unlikely infatuation. He loomed close to me in an amorous embrace in the back of his Morris 8. I was seventeen and impulsive – Darren was eighteen and repulsive. I could smell his beery breath and a post-adolescent odour that was so strong you could have grabbed the air and wrung the stench from it with your bare hands. I could see Aornis outside the car, grinning at me, and through the laboured panting of Darren, I screamed.
'But this isn't the worst place we could go.' Aornis grinned through the window. 'We can go back to the Crimea and unlock memories that have been too terrifying even for you. The suppressed memories, the ones you block out to let you carry on during the day.'
'No,' I said. 'Aornis, not the charge—!'
But there we were, in the last place I wanted to be, driving my APC into the massed field artillery of the Russian army that August afternoon in 1973. Of the eighty-four APCs and light tanks that advanced into the Russian guns, only two vehicles returned. Out of the five hundred and thirty-four soldiers involved, fifty-one survived.
It was the moment before the barrage began. My CO, Major Phelps, was riding on the outside as he liked to do, foolhardy idiot that he was, and to my left and right I could see the other armoured vehicles throwing up large swathes of summer dust from the parched land. We could be seen for miles. The first salvo was so unexpected that I thought the munitions in a light tank had simply ignited by accident; the whine of a near-miss made me realise that it hadn't. I changed direction instantly and started to zigzag. I looked to Phelps for orders but he was slumped in the hatch; he had lost the lower part of his arm and was unconscious. The barrage was so intense that it became a single rumbling growl, the pressure waves thumping the APC so hard that it was all I could do to keep my hands on the controls.
I read the official report two years later; there had been forty-two guns trained on us from a thousand yards and they had expended three hundred and eighty-seven rounds of high-explosive shells – about four to each vehicle. It had been like shooting fish in a barrel.
Sergeant Tozer took command and ordered me to an APC that had lost its tracks and been thrown upside down. I parked behind the wrecked carrier as Tozer and the squad jumped out to retrieve the wounded.
'But what were you really thinking about?' asked Aornis, who was beside me in the carrier, looking disdainfully at the dust and oil.
'Escape,' I said. 'I was terrified. We all were.'
'Next!' yelled Tozer. 'Stop talking to Aornis and take us to the next APC!'
I pulled away as another explosion went off. I saw a turret whirling through the air, a pair of legs dangling from beneath it.
I drove to the next APC, the shrapnel hitting our carrier almost continuously like hail on a tin roof. The survivors were firing impotently back with their rifles; it wasn't looking good. The APC was filled with the wounded and as I turned round something hit the carrier a glancing blow. It was a dud; it had struck us obliquely and bounced off – I would see the yard-long gouge in the armour plate the following day. Within a hundred yards we were in relative safety as the dust and smoke screened our retreat; pretty soon we had passed the forward command post where all the officers were shouting into their field telephones, and on to the dressing areas beyond. Even though I knew this was a dream, the fear felt as real as it had on the day, and tears of frustration welled up inside me. I thought Aornis would carry on with this memory for the return run to the barrage, but there was clearly a technique behind her barbaric game; in a blink we were back on the roof at Thornfield Hall.
Acheron carried on where he had left off; he was looking at me with a triumphant expression.
'It may come as some consolation,' he carried on, 'that I planned to bestow upon you the honour of becoming Felix9— Who are you?'
He was looking at Aornis.
'Aornis,' she said shyly.
Acheron gave a rare smile and lowered his gun.
'Aornis?' he echoed. 'Little Aornis?' She nodded and ran across to give him a hug.
'My goodness!' he said, looking her over carefully. 'How you have grown! Last time I saw you you were this high and had barely even started torturing animals. Tell me: did you follow us into the family business or did you flunk out like that loser Styx?'
'I'm a mnemonomorph!' she said proudly, eager for her sibling's approval.
'Of course!' he said. 'I should have guessed. We're in that Next woman's memories right now, aren't we?'
She nodded enthusiastically.
'Attagirl! Tell me, did she actually kill me? I'm only here as the memory of me in her mind, after all.'
'I'm afraid not,' said Aornis glumly, 'she killed you well and good.'
'By using treachery? Did I die a Hades?'
'I'm afraid not – it was a noble victory.'
'Bitch!'
'Seconded. But I'll have the revenge you deserve, dear brother, you can be sure of that.'
A family reunion like this should have been heart warming but I can't say I was moved. Still, at least it kept us away from the Crimea.
'Mother's very upset with you,' said Aornis, who had the Hades penchant for straight talking.
'Why?'
'Why do you think? You murdered Styx.'
'Styx was a fool and he brought shame on the Hades family. If Father were still alive he would have done the job himself
'Well, Mother was very upset about it and I think you should apologise.'
'Okay, next time. Wait a moment, I'm dead – I can't apologise to anyone. You apologise for me.'
'I'm a mnemonomorph, remember – and this is only me as a mindworm; a sort of satellite persona, if you like. Listen, if I knew where Thursday was, she'd be dead already. No, when I can report back to Aornis proper, this is what we'll do—'
'Psssst!' said a voice close to my ear. It was Granny Next.
'Gran!' I said. 'Am I glad to see you!'
'C'mon,' she said, 'while Aornis is distracted.'
She took my hand and led me across the roof to the window where we entered the building. But instead of the burning remains of Thornfield Hall we were on the sidelines of a croquet match. Not any croquet match: it was a World Croquet League final – a SuperHoop. I used to play croquet quite seriously until SpecOps work absorbed all my free time. The two teams were in their body armour, leaning on their willow mallets and discussing strategy during a time-out.
'Okay,' said Aubrey Jarnbe, who was wearing the captain's sweater, 'Biffo is going to take the red ball from the forty-yard line over the rhododendron bushes, past the Italian sunken garden and into a close position to hoop five. Spike, you'll take it from there and croquet their yellow – Stig will defend you. George, I want you to mark their number five. He's a Neanderthal, so you're going to have to use any tricks you can. Smudger, you're going to foul the duchess – when the vicar gives you the red card, I'm calling in Thursday. Yes?'
They all looked at me. I was in body armour too. I was a substitute. A croquet mallet was slung round my wrist with a lanyard and I was holding a helmet.
'Thursday?' repeated Aubrey. 'Are you okay? You look like you're in a dream world!'
'I'm fine,' I said slowly, 'I'll wait for your command.'
'Good.'
A horn went off, indicating the time-out was over. I looked up at the Scoreboard. Swindon was losing 12 hoops to 21.
'Gran,' I said slowly, watching the team run out to continue play, 'I don't remember this.'
'Of course not!' she said, as though I were a fool. 'This is one of mine. Aornis will never find us here.'
'Wait a moment,' I said, 'how can I be dreaming with your memories?'
'Tch, tch,' she scolded, 'so many questions! It will all be explained in due course. Now, do you want to go into some of that deep, dreamless sleep, and get some rest?'
'Oh, please!' '
'Good. Aornis will not bother you again tonight – I shall watch over you.'
She approached a burly croquet player who had only one ear. After saying a few words, she pointed at me. I looked around at the stadium. It was the Swindon croquet stadium, yet somehow different. Behind me in the dignitaries' box I was surprised to see Yorrick Kaine speaking to one of his assistants. Next to him was President Formby, who gave me a smile and a wave. I turned away, my eyes looking into the crowd and falling upon the one person that I did want to see. It was Landen, and he was bouncing a young child on his lap.
'Landen!' I shouted, but a cheer went up from the crowd and I was drowned out. But he did see me, and smiled. He held the infant's hand and made it wave too. Gran tugged my shoulder pad to get my attention.
'Gran,' I said, 'it's Lan—'
And then the mallet struck my head. Blackness and oblivion. As usual, just when I got to the good bit.
16
Captain Nemo
'Wemmick's Stores: To enable Jurisfiction agents to travel easily and undetected within fiction, Wemmick's Stores was built within the lobby of the Great Library. The stores have an almost unlimited inventory as Mr Wemmick is permitted to create whatever he needs using a small ImaginoTransference device licensed by Text Grand Central. To reduce pilfering by Jurisfiction staff, all items checked out must be checked in again whereupon they are promptly reduced to text.'
UA OF W CAT— The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
I woke late the following morning. My bed was next to the porthole so I rolled over, doubled up a pillow and gazed out at the sun sparkling upon the surface of the lake. I could hear the gentle slap of the water against the flying boat's hull, and it gave me a sense of ease and inner peace that ten years of SpecOps' finest Stressperts couldn't bully into you.
I got up slowly and felt woozy all of a sudden. The room spun around and I felt hot. After a brief and unpleasant visit to the loo, I felt a bit better, and went downstairs.
I made myself some toast as it helped the nausea, and caught sight of myself in the chrome toaster. I looked dreadful, and I was holding up the toaster and sticking my tongue out, trying to see what it looked like, when the Generics walked in.
'What on earth are you doing?' asked Ibb.
'Nothing,' I replied, hurriedly replacing the toaster. 'Off to college?'
They both nodded. I noticed that they'd not only made their own lunch but actually cleared away after them. A certain sensitivity to others is a good sign in a Generic. It shows personality.
'Do you know where Gran is?' I asked.
'She said she was off to the Medici court for a few days,' replied Obb. 'She left you that note.'
I found the note on the counter and picked it up, studying the one-word message with slight confusion.
'We'll be back at five,' announced Ibb. 'Do you need anything?'
'What? Er – no,' I said, reading Gran's note again. 'See you then.'
I ate a huge breakfast and did some more of the multiple choice test. After a half-hour battling through such questions as: Which book does Sam Wetter the boot boy reside in? and Who said: 'When she appeared it was as though spring had finally arrived after a miserable winter'? I stopped and looked at Gran's note for the tenth time. It was confusing. Written in a small and shaky hand, the note consisted of a single word: REMEMBER!
'Remember what? I muttered to myself, and went for a walk.
I strolled down to the banks of the lake, taking a path through a grove of birches that grew by the water's edge. I ducked under the low branches and followed my nose towards the odd assortment of vessels that were moored next to the old Sunderland. The first was a converted naval pinnace, her decks covered in plastic and in a constant state of renovation. Beyond this was a Humber lighter, abandoned and sunk at its moorings. As I moved to walk on there was a sudden screech of demonic laughter followed by a peal of thunder and the smell of brimstone borne on a gust of icy wind. I blinked and coughed as thick green smoke momentarily enveloped me; when it had cleared I was no longer alone. Three old hags with hooked chins and mottled complexions danced and cackled in front of me, rubbing their dirty hands and dancing in the most clumsy and uncoordinated fashion. It was the worst piece of overacting I had ever seen.
'Thrice the blinded dog shall bark,' said the first witch, producing a cauldron from the air and placing it on the path in front of me.
'Thrice and once the hedge-pig ironed,' said the second, who conjured up a fire by throwing some leaves beneath the cauldron.
'Passer-by cries, 'Tis time, 'tis time!' screeched the third, tossing something into the cauldron that started to bubble ominously.
'I really don't have time for this,' I said crossly. 'Why don't you go and bother someone else?'
'Fillet of a pickled hake,' continued the second witch, 'In the cauldron broil and bake; Lie of Stig and bark of dog, Woolly hat and bowl of fog, Fadda loch and song by Bing, Wizard's leg and Spitfire's wing. For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble!'
'I'm sorry to interrupt,' I said, 'but I really am very busy – and none of your prophecies have come true, apart from the citizen of Swindon bit and anyone with a telephone directory could find that out. And listen, you knew I was an apprentice so I had to be taking my jurisfiction finals sooner or later!'
They stopped cackling and looked at one another. The first witch drew a large pocket watch from the folds of her tatty cloak and looked at it carefully.
'Give it ye time, imperfect waiter!' she cried. 'All hail MsNext, beware and heed the thrice-read rule!'
'All hail MsNext, I before E except after C!' cackled the second.
'All hail MsNext!' added the third, who clearly didn't want to be left out. 'Meet a king but not be one, Read a King but not—'
'SHOO!' shouted a loud voice behind me. The three witches stopped and stared at the new visitor crossly. He was an old man whose weathered face looked as though it had been gnarled by years of adventuring across the globe. He wore a blue blazer over a polo-neck Aran sweater and on his head a captain's cap sat above his lined features, a few wisps of grey hair showing from underneath the sweatband. His eyes sparkled with life and a grimace cracked his craggy features as he walked along the path towards us. It could only be Captain Nemo.
'Away with you, crones!' he cried. 'Peddle your wares elsewhere!'
He probably would have beaten them with the stout branch he was brandishing had the witches not taken fright and vanished in a thunderclap of sound, cauldron and all.
'Hah!' said Nemo, throwing the branch towards where they had been. 'Next time I will make mincemeat of you, foul dissemblers of nature, with your hail this and your hail that!'
He looked at me accusingly.
'Did you give them any money?'
'No, sir.'
'Truthfully now! Did you give them anything at all?'
'No.'
'Good,' he replied. 'Never give them any money. It only encourages them. They'll coax you in with their fancy prophecies; suggest you'll have a new car and as soon as you start thinking you might need one – BANG! – they're offering you loans and insurance and other unwanted financial services. Poor old Macbeth took it a bit too seriously – all they were trying to do was sell him a mortgage and insurance on a bigger castle. When the Birnham wood and "no woman born" stuff all came true the witches were as surprised as anyone. So never fall for their little scams – it'll drain your wallet before you know it. Who are you, anyway?'
'Thursday Next,' I said, 'I'm standing in for—'
'Ah!' he muttered thoughtfully. 'The Outlander. Tell me, how do escalators work? Do they have one long staircase that is wound up on a huge drum and then rewound every night, or are they a continuous belt that just goes round and round?'
'An – um – continuous belt.'
'Really?' he replied reflectively. 'I've always wondered about that. Welcome to Caversham Heights. I am Captain Nemo. I have some coffee on the stove – I wonder whether you would grant me the honour of your company?'
I thanked him and we continued to walk along the lake's edge.
'A beautiful morning, would you not agree?' he asked, sweeping a hand towards the lake and the puffy clouds.
'It usually is,' I replied.
'For a terrestrial view it is almost passable,' added Nemo quickly. 'It is nothing but a passing fancy to the beauty of the deep, but in retirement we all have to make sacrifices.'
'I have read your book many times,' I said as courteously as I could, 'and have found much pleasure in its narrative.'
'Jules Verne was not simply my author but also a good friend,' said Nemo sadly. 'I was sorrowful on his passing, an emotion I do not share with many others of my kind.'
We had arrived at Nemo's home. No longer the sleek and dangerous craft from 20,000 Leagues under the Sea, the riveted iron submarine was a shabby wreck streaked with rust, a thick green line of algae growing on the glass of the two large viewing windows. She belonged to a redolent age of high-technological expectation. She was the Nautilus.
We made our way up the gangplank and Nemo helped me aboard.
'Thank you,' I said, walking down the outer casing to the small conning tower where he had set up a chair and table upon which stood a glass hookah. He pulled up another folding chair and bade me sit down.
'You are here, like me,' he asked, 'resting – between engagements?'
'Maternity leave – of a sort,' I explained.
'Of these matters I know nothing,' he said gravely, pouring out a cup of coffee; the porcelain was White Star Line.
I took a sip and accepted the proffered biscuit. The coffee was excellent.
'Good, is it not?' he asked, a smile upon his lips.
'Indeed!' I replied. 'Better than I have ever tasted. What is it?'
'From the Guiana Basin,' he explained, 'an area of sea scattered with subterranean mountains and hills every bit as beautiful as the Andes. In a deep valley in this region I discovered an aquatic plant whose seeds, when dried and ground, make a coffee to match any that land can offer.'
His face fell for a moment and he looked into his cup, swirling the brown liquid around.
'As soon as this coffee is drunk, that will be the end of it. I have been moved around the Well of Lost Plots for almost a century now. I was to be in a sequel, you know – Jules Verne had written half of it when he died. The manuscript, alas, was thrown out after his death, and destroyed. I appealed to the Council of Genres against the enforced demolition order, and I – and the Nautilus, of course – was reprieved.'
He sighed.
'We have survived numerous moves from book to book within the Well. Now, as you see, I am marooned here. The voltaic piles, the source of the Nautilus's power, are almost worn out. The sodium, which I extract from sea water, is exhausted. For many years I have been the subject of a preservation order, but preservation without expenditure is worthless. The Nautilus needs only a few thousand words to be as good as new – yet I have no money, nor influence. I am only an eccentric loner awaiting a sequel that I fear will never be written.'
'I … I wish I could do something,' I replied, 'but Jurisfiction only keeps fiction in order – it does not dictate policy, nor choose which books are to be written. You have, I trust, advertised yourself?'
'For many years. Here, see for yourself.'
He handed me a copy of The Word. The 'Situations Sought' page took up half the newspaper and I read where Nemo pointed it out.
Eccentric and autocratic sea dog (ex-Verne) requires exciting and morally superior tale to exercise knowledge of the oceans and discuss man's place t within his enviornment. French spoken, has own submarine. Apply: Captain Nemo, c/o Caversham Heights, sub-basement six, WOLP.
'Every week for over a century,' he grumbled, 'but not one sensible offer.'
I doubted that his idea of a sensible offer would be like anyone else's – 20,000 Leagues under the Sea was a tough act to follow.
'You have read Caversham Heights'?' he asked.
I nodded.
'Then you will know that the scrapping is not only inevitable, but quite necessary. When the book goes to the breaker's yard, I will not apply for a transfer. The Nautilus, and I too, will be broken down into text – and long have I wished for it!'
He scowled at the floor and poured another cup of coffee.
'Unless,' he added, suddenly perking up, 'you thought I should have the advert in a box, with a picture? It costs extra but it might make it more eye catching.'
'It is worth a try, of course,' I replied.
Nemo rose to his feet and went below without another word. I thought he might return, but after twenty minutes had elapsed I decided to go home. I was ambling back along the lakeside path when I got a call from Havisham on the footnoterphone. 12
'As always, Miss Havisham.' 13
'Perkins must be annoyed about that,' I said, thinking, what with grammasites, a minotaur, Yahoos and a million or two rabbits, life in the bestiary must be something of a handful. 14
'I'm on my way.' ,
17
Minotaur trouble
'TravelBook Standard-issue equipment to all Jurisfiction agents, the dimensionally ambivalent TravelBook contains information, tips, maps, recipes and extracts from popular or troublesome novels to enable speedier transbook travel It also contains numerous JurisTech gadgets for more specialised tasks such as an MV mask, TextMarker and Eject-O-Hat The TravelBook's cover is read-locked to each individual operative and contains as standard an emergency alert and auto-destruct mechanism '
UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
I read myself into the Well and was soon in an elevator, heading up towards the Library. I had bought a copy of The Word; the front page led with: 'Nursery rhyme characters to go on indefinite strike'. Farther down, the previous night's attack on Heathcliff had been reported. It added that a terror group calling itself 'The Great Danes' had also threatened to kill him – they wanted Hamlet to win this year's 'Most Troubled Romantic Lead' BookWorld award and would do anything to achieve this. I turned to page two and found a large article extolling the virtues of UltraWord™ with an open letter from Text Grand Central explaining how nothing would change and all jobs and privileges would be protected.
The elevator stopped on the first floor; I quickly made my way to Sense and Sensibility and read myself in. The crowd was still outside the doors of Norland Park, this time with tents, a brass band and a metal brazier burning scrap wood. As soon as they saw me a chant went up:
'WE NEED A BREAK, WE NEED A BREAK …'
A tired-looking woman with an inordinate number of children gave me a leaflet.
'Three hundred and twenty-five years I've been doing this job,' she said, 'without even so much as a weekend off!'
'I'm sorry.'
'We don't want pity,' said Solomon Grundy, who, what with it being a Saturday, wasn't looking too healthy, 'we want action. Oral traditionalists should be allowed the same rights as any other fictioneers.'
'Right,' said a young lad carrying a bucket with his head wrapped in brown paper, 'no amount of money can compensate the brotherhood for the inconvenience caused by repetitive retellings. However, we would like to make the following demands. One: that all nursery rhyme characters are given immediate leave of absence for a two-week period. Two: that—'
'Really,' I interrupted him, 'you're talking to the wrong person. I'm only an apprentice. Jurisfiction has no power to dictate policy anyway – you need to speak to the Council of Genres.'
'The Council sent us to talk to TGC, who referred us to the Great Panjandrum,' said Humpty Dumpty to a chorus of vigorous head-nodding, 'but no one seems to know if he – or she -even exists.'
'If you've never seen him he probably doesn't exist,' said Little Jack Horner. 'Pie, anyone?'
'I've never seen Vincent Price,' I observed, 'but I know he exists.'
'Who?'
'An actor,' I explained, feeling somewhat foolish. 'Back home.'
Humpty Dumpty narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
'You're talking complete Lear, Miss Next.'
'King?'
'No,' he replied, 'Edward.'
'Oh.'
'MONGOOSE!' yelled Humpty, drawing a small revolver and throwing himself to the ground where, unluckily for him, there just happened to be a muddy puddle.
'You're mistaken,' explained Grundy wearily, 'it's a guide dog. Put the gun away before you hurt yourself.'
'A guide dog?' repeated Humpty, slowly getting to his feet. 'You're sure?'
'Have you spoken to WordMaster Libris?' I asked. 'We all know he exists.'
'He won't speak to us,' said Humpty Dumpty, wiping his face with a large handkerchief. 'The oral tradition is unaffected by the UltraWord™ upgrade so he doesn't think we're that important. If we don't negotiate a few rights before the new system comes in, we won't ever get any!'
'Libris won't even speak to you?' I repeated.
'He sends us notes,' squeaked the oldest of three mice, all of whom had no tails, held a white cane in one hand and a golden retriever in the other. 'He says that he is very busy but will give "our concerns his fullest attention".'
'What's going on?' squeaked one of the other mice. 'Is that Miss Next?'
'It's a brush-off,' said Grundy. 'Unless we get an answer soon there won't be a single nursery rhyme anywhere, either spoken or read! We're going on a forty-eight-hour stoppage from midnight. When parents can't remember the words to our rhymes, the fur will really fly, I can promise you that!'
'I'm sorry,' I began again, 'I have no authority – I can't do anything—'
'Then just take this to Agent Libris?'
Humpty Dumpty handed me a list of demands, neatly written on a page of foolscap paper. The crowd grew suddenly silent. A sea of eyes, all blinking expectantly, were directed at me.
'I promise nothing,' I said, taking the piece of paper, 'but if I see Libris, I will give this to him – okay?'
'Thank you very much,' said Humpty. 'At last someone from Jurisfiction will listen!'
I turned away and overheard Humpty say to Grundy: 'Well, I thought that went pretty well, didn't you?'
I walked briskly up the front steps of Norland Park, where I was admitted by the same frog-like footman I had seen on my first visit. I crossed the hall and entered the ballroom. Miss Havisham was at her desk with Akrid Snell, who was talking into the footnoterphone. Standing next to them was Bradshaw, who had not retired as promised, filling out a form with the Bellman, who appeared very grave. The only other occupant of the room was Harris Tweed, who was reading a report. He looked up as I entered, said nothing and continued reading. Miss Havisham was studying some photographs as I walked up.
'Damn and blast!' she said, looking at one before tossing it over her shoulder and staring at the next. 'Pathetic!' she muttered, looking at another. 'Derisive!'
'Perkins?' I asked, sitting down.
'Speed camera pictures back from the labs,' she said, handing them over. 'I thought I would have topped one hundred and sixty, but look – well, it's pitiful, that's what it is!'
I looked. The speed camera had caught the Higham Special but recorded only a top speed of 152.76 mph. But what was worse, it showed Mr Toad travelling at over a hundred and eighty – and he had even raised his hat at the speed camera as he went past.
'I managed a hundred and seventy when I tried it on the M4,' she said sadly. 'Trouble is, I need a longer stretch of road – or sand. Well, can't be helped now. The car has been sold. I'll have to go cap in hand to Sir Malcolm if I want to get a shot at beating Toad.'
'Norland Park to Perkins,' said Snell into the footnoterphone, 'come in, please. Over.'
I looked at Havisham.
'No answer for almost six hours,' she said. 'Mathias isn't answering either – we got a Yahoo once but you might as well talk to Mrs Bennett. What's that?'
'It's a list of demands from the nurseries outside.'
'Rabble,' replied Havisham, 'all of them replaceable. How hard can it be, appearing in a series of rhyming couplets? If they don't watch themselves they'll be replaced by scab Generics from the Well. It happened when the Amalgamated Union of Gateway Guardians struck in 1932. They never learn.'
'All they want is a holiday—'
'I shouldn't concern yourself with nursery politics, Miss Next,' said Havisham, so sharply I jumped.
'Good work on the ProCath attack,' announced Tweed, who had walked over. 'I've had a word with Plum over at JurisTech; he's going to extend the footnoterphone network to cover more of Wuthering Heights – we shouldn't have a problem with mobilefootnoterphones dropping out again.'
'We'd better not,' replied MissHavisham coldly. 'Lose Heathcliff and the Council of Genres will have our colons for garters. Now, to work. We don't know what to expect as regards the minotaur, so we have to be prepared.'
'Like boy scouts?'
'Can't stand them, but that's beside the point. Turn to page seven eighty-nine in your TravelBook.'
I did as she bade. This was in an area of the book where the pages contained gadgets in hollowed-out recesses deeper than the book was thick. One page contained a device similar to a flare gun which had 'Mk IV TextMarker' written on its side. Another page had a glass panel covering a handle like a fire alarm. A note painted on the glass read: 'IN UNPRECEDENTED EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS'. The page Havisham had indicated was neither of these; page 789 contained a brown Homburg hat. Hanging from the brim was a large red toggle with 'In emergency pull down sharply' written on it. There was also a chin strap, something I've never seen on a Homburg before – or even a fedora or trilby, come to that.
Havisham took the hat from my hands and gave me a brief induction course.
'This is the Martin-Bacon Mk VII Eject-O-Hat,' she explained, for high-speed evacuation from a book. Takes you straight out in an emergency.'
'Where to?'
'A little-known novel entitled The Middle of Next Week. You can make your way out to the Library at leisure. But be warned: the jump can be painful, even fatal – so it should only be used as a last resort. Remember to keep the chin strap tight or it'll take your ears off during the ejection sequence. I will say "JUMP!" twice – by the third I will have gone. Any questions?'
'How does it work?'
'I'll rephrase that – any questions I can possibly hope to answer?'
'Does this mean we'll see Bradshaw without his pith helmet?'
'Ha-ha!' Bradshaw laughed, releasing the toggle from the brim. 'I have the smaller Mk XII version – it could be fitted into a beret or a veil, if we so wished.'
I picked up the Homburg from the table and put it on.
'What are you expecting?' I asked slightly nervously, adjusting the chin strap.
'We think the minotaur has escaped,' she answered gravely. 'If it has and we meet it, just pull the cord as quickly as you can. It always takes at least ten to twelve words to initiate a standard jump – you could be minotaur appetiser by that time.'
I pulled out my automatic to check it but Bradshaw shook his head.
'Your Outlander lead will not be enough.'
He held up the box of cartridges he had signed for.
'Boojum-tipped,' he explained, tapping the large hunting rifle he was carrying, 'for total annihilation. Back to text in under a second. We call them Eraserheads. Snell? Are you ready?'
Snell had a fedora version of the Eject-O-Hat which suited his trenchcoat a bit better. He grunted but didn't look up. This assignment was personal. Perkins was his partner—not just at jurisfiction but in the Perkins & Snell series of detective novels. If Perkins was hurt in some way, the future could be bleak. Generics could be trained to take over a vacated part, but it's never the same.
'Okay,' said Havisham, adjusting her own Homburg, 'we're out of here. Hold on to me, Next. If we are split up we'll meet at the gatehouse – no one enters the castle without Bradshaw, okay?'
Everyone agreed and Havisham mumbled to herself the code word and some of the text of Sword of the Zenobians.
Pretty soon Norland Park had vanished and the bright sun of Zenobia greeted us. The grass was springy under foot and herds of unicorns grazed peacefully beside the river. Grammasites wheeled in the blue skies, riding the thermals that rose from the warm grassland.
'Everyone here?' asked Havisham.
Bradshaw, Snell and I nodded our heads. We walked in silence, past the bridge, up to the old gatehouse and across the drawbridge. A dark shadow leaped from a corner of the deserted guardroom but before Bradshaw could fire Havisham yelled 'Wait!' and he stopped. It was a Yahoo – but he hadn't come to throw his shit about, he was running away in terror.
Bradshaw and Havisham exchanged nervous looks and we moved closer to where Perkins and Mathias had been doing their work. The door was broken and the hinges had vanished, replaced by two very light burn marks.
'Hold it!' said Bradshaw, pointing at the hinges. 'Did Perkins hold any vyrus on the premises?'
For a moment I didn't understand why Bradshaw was asking this question, but realisation slowly dawned upon me. He meant the mispeling vyrus. The hinges had become singes. The vyrus was a lot more powerful than I had supposed. Mispeled speech was only the start of it.
'Yes,' I replied, 'a small jar – well shielded by dictionaries.'
There was a strange and pregnant pause. The danger was real and very clear, and even seasoned PROs like Bradshaw and Havisham were thinking twice about entering Perkins' lab.
'What do you think?' asked Bradshaw.
'Vyrus and a minotaur,' Havisham sighed. 'We need more than the four of us.'
'I'm going in,' said Snell, pulling a respirator from his TravelBook. The mask was made of rubber and similar to the ones at home – only with a dictionary where the filter would have been. It wasn't just one dictionary, either – the Lavina-Webster had been taped back to back with the Oxford English Dictionary.
Don't forget your carrot,' said Havisham, pinning a vegetable to the front of his jacket.
'I'll need the rifle,' said Snell.
No,' replied Bradshaw, 'I signed for it, so I'm keeping it.'
'This is not the time for sticking to the rules, Bradshaw – my partner's in there!'
'This is exactly the time we should stick to the rules, Snell.'
They stared at one another.
'Then I'll go alone,' replied Snell with finality, pulling the mask down over his face and releasing the safety catch on his automatic. Havisham caught his elbow as she rummaged in her TravelBook for her own mask. 'We go together or not at all, Akrid.'
I found the correct page for the mask, pulled it out of its slot and put it on under the Eject-O-Hat. Miss Havisham pinned a carrot to my jacket, too.
'A carrot is the best litmus test for the mispeling vyrus,' she said, helping Bradshaw on with his mask. 'As soon as the carrot comes into contact with the vyrus, it will start to mispel into parrot. You need to be out before it can talk. We have a saying: "When you can hear Polly, use the brolly."'
She tapped the toggle of the Eject-O-Hat. X
'Understand?'
I nodded.
'Good. Bradshaw, lead the way!'
We stepped carefully across the door with its mispeled hinges and into the lab, which was in a state of chaotic disorder. Mispeling was merely an annoyance to readers in the real world – but inside fiction it was a menace. The mispeling was the effect of sense distortion, not the cause – once the internal meaning of a word started to break down then the mispeling arose as a consequence of this. Unmispeling the word at TGC might work if the vyrus hadn't taken a strong hold but usually it was pointless; like making the beds in a burning house.
The interior of the laboratory was heavily disrupted. On the far wall the shelves were filled with a noisy company of feather-bound rooks; we stepped forward on to the fattened tarpit only to see that the imposing table in the centre of the room was now an enormous label. The glass apparatus had become grass asparagus, and worst of all, Mathias the talking horse was simply a large model house — like a doll's house but much more detailed. Miss Havisham looked at me and pointed to her carrot. Already it was starting to change colour – I could see tinges of red, yellow and blue.
'Careful,' said Snell, 'look!'
On the floor next to more shards of broken grass was a small layer of the same purple mist I had seen the last time I was here. The area of the floor touched by the vyrus was constantly changing meaning, texture, colour and appearance.
'Where was the minotaur kept?' asked Havisham, her carrot beginning to sprout a small beak.
I pointed the way and Bradshaw took the lead. I pulled out my gun, despite Bradshaw's assurances that it was a waste of time, and he gently pushed open the door to the vault beneath the old hall. Snell snapped on a torch and flicked the beam into the chamber. The door to the minotaur's cage was open but of the beast there was no sign. I wish I could have said the same for Perkins. He – or what was left of him – was lying on the stone floor. The minotaur had devoured him up to his chest. His spine had been picked clean and the lower part of a leg had been thrown to one side. I choked at the sight and felt a knot rise in my throat. Bradshaw cursed and turned to cover the doorway. Snell dropped to his knees to close Perkins' eyes, which were staring off into space, a look of fear still etched upon his features. Miss Havisham laid a hand on Snell's shoulder.
'I'm so sorry, Akrid. Perkins was a good man.'
'I can't believe he would have been so stupid,' muttered Snell angrily.
'We should be leaving,' said Bradshaw. 'Now we know there is definitely a minotaur loose, we must come back better armed and with more agents!'
Snell got up. Behind his MV mask I could see tears in his eyes. Miss Havisham looked at me and pointed to her carrot, which had started to sprout feathers. A proper clean-up gang would be needed. Snell placed his jacket over Perkins and joined us as Bradshaw led the way out.
'Back to Norland, yes?'
'I've hunted minotaur before,' said Bradshaw, his instincts alerted. 'Tsaritsyn, 1944. They never stray far from the kill.'
'Bradshaw—!' urged Miss Havisham, but the commander wasn't the sort to take orders from another, not even someone as forthright as Havisham.
'I don't get it,' murmured Snell, stopping for a moment and staring at the chaos within the laboratory and the small glob of purple mist on the floor. 'There just isn't enough vyrus here to cause the problems we've seen.'
'What are you saying?' I asked.
Bradshaw looked carefully out of the open door, indicated all was clear and beckoned for us to leave.
'There might be some more vyrus around,' continued Snell. 'What's in this cupboard?'
He strode towards a small wooden cabinet that had telephone directory pages pasted all over it.
'Wait!' said Bradshaw, striding from the other side of the room. 'Let me.'
He grasped the handle as a thought struck me. They weren't telephone directory pages, they were from a dictionary. The door was shielded.
I shouted but it was too late. Bradshaw opened the cupboard and was bathed in a faint purple light. The cabinet contained two dozen or so broken jars, all of which leaked the pestilential vyrus.
'Ahh!' he cried, staggering backwards and dropping his gum as the carrot transformed into a very loud parrot. Bradshaw, his actions instinctive after years of training, pulled the cord on his Eject-O-Hat and vanished with a loud bang.
The room mutated as the mispelmg got a hold. The floor buckled and softened into flour, the walls changed into balls. I looked across at Havisham. Her carrot was a parrot, too – it had hopped to her other shoulder and was looking at me with its head cocked to one side.
'GO, GO!' she yelled at me, pulling the cord on her hat and vanishing like Bradshaw before her. I grasped the handle on mine and pulled – but it came off in my hand. I threw it to the ground where it became a candle.
'Hear,' said Snell, removing his own Eject-O-Hat, 'use myne.'
'Bat the vyruz!'
'Hange the vyruz, Neckts – jist go!'
He did not look at me again. He just walked towards the cupboard with the broken jars and slowly closed the door, his hands melting into glands as he touched the raw power of the vyrus. I ran outside, casting off the now useless hat and attempting to clip on the chin strap of Snell's. It wasn't easy. I caught my foot on a piece of half-buried masonry and fell headlong – to land within three paces of two large cloven hoofs.
I looked up. The minotaur was semi-crouched on his muscular haunches, ready to jump. His bull's head was large and sat heavily on his body – what neck he had was hidden beneath taut muscle. Within his mouth two rows of fine pointed teeth were shiny with saliva, and his sharpened horns pointed forward, ready to attack. Five years eating nothing but yogurt. You might as well feed a tiger on custard creams.
'Nice minotaur,' I said soothingly, slowly reaching for my automatic which had fallen on the grass beside me, 'good minotaur.'
He took a step closer, his hoofs making deep impressions in the grass. He stared at me and breathed out heavily through his nostrils, blowing tendrils of mucus into the air. He took another step, his deep-set yellow eyes staring into mine with an expression of loathing. My hand closed around the butt of my automatic as the minotaur bent closer and put out a large clawed hand. I moved the gun slowly back towards me as the minotaur reached down and … picked up Snell's hat. He turned it over in his claws and licked the brim with a tongue the size of my forearm. I had seen enough. I levelled my automatic and pulled the trigger at the same time as the minotaur's hand caught in the toggle and activated the Eject-O-Hat. The mythological man-beast vanished with a loud detonation as my gun went off, the shot whistling harmlessly through the air.
I breathed a sigh of relief but quickly rolled aside because, with a loud whooshing noise, a packing case fell from the heavens and landed with a crash right where I had lain. The case had 'Property of Jurisfiction' stencilled on it and had split open to reveal … dictionaries.
Another case landed close by, then a third and a fourth. Before I had time to even begin to figure out what was happening, Bradshaw had reappeared.
'Why didn't you jump, you little fool?'
'My hat failed!'
'And Snell?'
'Inside.'
Bradshaw pulled on his MV mask and rushed off into the building as I took refuge from the packing cases of dictionaries which were falling with increased rapidity. Harris Tweed appeared and barked orders at the small army of Mrs Danvers that had materialised with him. They were all wearing identical black dresses high-buttoned to the collar, which only served to make their pale skin seem even whiter, their hollow eyes more sinister. They moved slowly, but purposefully, and began to stack, one by one, the dictionaries against the castle keep.
'Where's the minotaur?' asked Havisham, who suddenly appeared close by.
I told her he had ejected with Snell's fedora and she vanished without another word.
Bradshaw reappeared from the keep, dragging Snell behind him. The rubber on Akrid's MV mask had turned to blubber, his suit to soot. Bradshaw removed him from Sword of the Zenobians to the Jurisfiction sickbay just as Miss Havisham returned. We watched together as the stacked dictionaries rose around the remains of Perkins' laboratory, twenty foot thick at the base, rising to a dome like a sugarloaf over the castle keep. It might have taken a long time but there were many Mrs Danvers, they were highly organised, and they had an inexhaustible supply of dictionaries.
'Find the minotaur?' I asked Havisham.
'Long gone,' she replied. 'There will be hell to pay about this, I assure you!'
When our carrots had returned to being crunchy vegetables, and the last vestiges of parrotness had been removed, Havisham and I pulled off our vyrus masks and tossed them in a heap – the dictionary filters were almost worn out.
'What happens now?' I asked.
'It is torched,' replied Tweed, who was close by. 'It is the only way to destroy the vyrus.'
'What about the evidence?' I asked.
'Evidence?' echoed Tweed. 'Evidence of what?'
'Perkins,' I replied. 'We don't know the full details of his death.'
'I think we can safely say he was killed and eaten by the minotaur,' said Tweed pointedly. 'It's too dangerous to go back in, even if we wanted to. I'd rather torch this now than risk spreading the vyrus and having to demolish the whole book and everything in it – do you know how many creatures live in here?'
He lit a flare.
'You'd better stand clear.'
The DanverClones were leaving now, vanishing with a faint pop, back to wherever they had been pulled from. Bradshaw and I withdrew as Tweed threw the flare on the pile of dictionaries. They burst into flames and were soon so hot that we had to withdraw to the gatehouse, the black smoke that billowed into the sky taking with it the remnants of the vyrus – and the evidence of Perkins' murder. Because I was sure it was murder. When we walked into the vault I had noticed that the key was missing from its hook. Someone had let the minotaur out.
18
Snell Rest in Peece and Lucy Deane
'I didn't notice it straight away but Vernham, Nelly and Lucy all had the same surname: Deane. They weren't related. In the Outland this happens all the time but in fiction it is rare; the problem is aggressively attacked by the Echolocators (q.v.), who insist that no two people in the same book have the same name. I learned years later that Hemingway once wrote a book that was demolished because he insisted that every single one of the eight characters was named Geoff.'
THURSDAY NEXT – TheJurisfiction Chronicles
The minotaur had given Havisham the slip and was last seen heading towards the works of Zane Grey; the semi-bovine wasn't stupid – he knew we'd have trouble finding him amongst a cattle drive. Snell lasted another three hours. He was kept in an isolation tent made of fine plastic sheeting that had been over-printed with pages from the Oxford English Dictionary. We were in the sickbay of the Anti-mispeling Fast Response Group. At the first sign of any deviant mispeling, thousands of these volumes were shipped to the infected book and set up as barrages either side of the chapter. The barrage was then moved in, paragraph by paragraph, until the vyrus was forced into a single sentence, then a word, then smothered completely. Fire was not an option in a published work; they had tried it once in Samuel Pepys' Diary and burnt down half of London.
'Does he have any family?' I asked.
'Snell was a loner detective, Miss Next,' explained the doctor. 'Perkins was his only family.'
'Is it safe to go up to him?'
'Yes – but be prepared for some mispelings.'
I sat by his bed while Havisham stood and spoke quietly with the doctor. Snell lay on his back and was breathing with small shallow gasps, the pulse on his neck racing – it wouldn't be long before the vyrus took him away and he knew it. I leaned closer and held his hand through the sheeting. His complexion was pail, his breething laboured, his skein covered in painful and unsightly green pastilles. As I wotched, his dry slips tried to foam worlds but all he could torque was ninsense.
'Thirsty!' he squeeked. 'Wode – Cone, udder whirled – doughnut Trieste—!'
He grisped my arm with his fungers, made one last stringled cry before feeling bakwards, his life force deported from his pathotic misspelled boddy.
'He was a fine operative,' said Havisham as the doctor pulled the sheep over his head.
'What will happen to the Perkins & Snell series?'
'I'm not sure,' she replied softly. 'Demolished, saved with new Generics – I don't know.'
'What ho!' exclaimed Bradshaw, appearing from nowhere. 'Is he—?'
'I'm afraid so,' replied Havisham.
'Snell was one of the best,' murmured Bradshaw sadly. 'Did he say anything before he died?'
'Nothing coherent.'
'Hmm. The Bellman wanted a report on his death as soon as possible. What do you think?'
He handed Havisham a sheet of paper and she read:
'Minotaur escapes, finds captor, eats captor, captor dies. Horse mispeled in struggle. Colleague dies attempting rescue. Minotaur escapes.'
She turned over the piece of paper but it was blank on the other side.
'That's it?'
'I didn't want it to get boring,' replied Bradshaw, 'and the Bellman wanted it as simple as possible. I think he's got Libris breathing down his neck. The investigation of a Jurisfiction agent so close to the launch of UltraWord™ will make the Council of Genres jittery as hell.'
Miss Havisham handed the report back to Bradshaw.
'Perhaps, Commander, you should lose that report in the pending tray.'
'This sort of stuff happens in fiction all the time,' he replied. 'Do you have any evidence that it was not accidental?'
'The key to the padlock wasn't on its hook,' I murmured.
'Well spotted,' replied Miss Havisham.
'Skulduggery?' Bradshaw hissed excitedly.
'I fervently hope not,' she returned. 'Just delay the findings for a few days – we should see if Miss Next's observational skills hold up to scrutiny.'
'Righty-oh!' replied Bradshaw. 'I'll see what I can do!'
And he vanished. We were left alone in the corridor, the bunk beds of the DanverClones stretching off to the distance in both directions.
'It might be nothing, Miss Havisham, but—'
She put her fingers to her lips. Havisham's eyes, usually resolute and fixed, had, for a brief moment, seemed troubled. I said nothing but inwardly I felt worried. Up until now I had thought Havisham feared nothing.
She looked at her watch.
'Go to the bun shop in Little Dorrit, would you? I'll have a doughnut and a coffee. Put it on my tab and get something for yourself.'
'Thank you. Where shall we meet?'
'Mill on the Floss, page five twenty-three, in twenty minutes.'
'Assignment?'
'Yes,' she replied, deep in thought. 'Some damn meddling fool told Lucy Deane that Stephen and not Philip will be boating with Maggie – she may try to stop them. Twenty minutes, and not the jam doughnuts, the ones with the pink icing, yes?'
Thirty-two minutes later I was inside Mill on the Floss, on the banks of a river next to Miss Havisham, who was observing a couple in a boat. The woman was dark skinned with a jet-black coronet of hair, was lying on a cloak with a parasol above her as a man rowed her gently downriver. He was perhaps five and twenty years old, quite striking, and with short dark hair that stood erect, not unlike a crop of corn. They were talking earnestly to one another. I passed Miss Havisham a cup of coffee and a paper bag full of doughnuts.
'Stephen and Maggie?' I asked, indicating the couple as we walked along the path by the river.
'Yes,' she replied. 'As you know, Lucy and Stephen are a hair's breadth from engagement. Stephen and Maggie's indiscretion in this boat causes Lucy Deane no end of distress. I told you to get the ones with pink icing.'
She had been looking in the bag.
'They'd run out.'
'Ah.'
We kept a wary eye on the couple in the boat as I tried to remember what actually happened in Mill on the Floss.
'They agree to elope, don't they?'
'Agree to – but don't. Stephen is being an idiot and Maggie should know better. Lucy is meant to be shopping in Lindum with her father and Aunt Tulliver but she gave them the slip an hour ago.'
We walked on for a few more minutes. The story seemed to be following the correct path with no intervention of Lucy's we could see. Although we couldn't make out the words, the sound of Maggie and Stephen's voices carried across the water.
Miss Havisham took a bite of her doughnut.
'I noticed the missing key too,' she said after a pause. 'It was pushed under a workbench. It was murder. Murder … by minotaur.'
She shivered.
'Why didn't you tell Bradshaw?' I asked. 'Surely the murder of a Jurisfiction operative warrants an investigation?'
She stared at me hard and then looked at the couple in the boat again.
'You don't understand, do you? The Sword of the Zenobians is code-word-protected.'
'Only Jurisfiction agents can get in and out,' I murmured.
'Whoever killed Perkins and Mathias was Jurisfiction,' she went on. 'And that's what frightens me. A rogue agent.'
We walked on in silence, digesting this fact.
'But why would anyone want to kill Perkins and a talkiag horse?'
'I think Mathias just got in the way.'
'And Perkins?'
'Not just Perkins. Whoever killed him tried to get someone else that day.'
I thought for a moment and a sudden chill came over me.
'My Eject-O-Hat. It failed.'
Miss Havisham produced the Homburg from a carrier bag, slightly squashed from where several Mrs Danvers had trodden on it. The frayed cord looking as though it might have been cut.
'Take this to Professor Plum at JurisTech and have him look at it. I'd like to be sure.'
'But … but why am I a threat?' I asked.
'I don't know,' admitted Miss Havisham. 'You are the most junior member of Jurisflction and arguably the least threatening – you can't even bookjump without moving your lips, for goodness' sake!'
I didn't need reminding but I saw her point.
'So what happens now?' I asked at length.
'We have to assume whoever killed him might try again. You are to be on your guard. Wait— There she is!'
We had walked over a small rise and were slightly ahead of the boat. A young woman was lying on the ground in a most unladylike fashion, pointing a sniper's rifle towards the small skiff that had just come into view. I crept cautiously forward; she was so intent on her task that she didn't notice me until I was close enough to grab her. She was a slight thing and her strugglings, whilst energetic, were soon overcome. I secured her in an armlock as Havisham unloaded the rifle. Maggie and Stephen, unaware of the danger, drifted softly past on their way to Mudport.
'Where did you get this?' asked Havisham, holding up the rifle.
'I don't have to say anything,' replied the angelic-looking girl in a soft voice. 'I was only going to knock a hole in the boat, honestly I was!'
'Sure you were. You can let go, Thursday.'
I relaxed my grip and she stepped back, pulling at her clothes to straighten them after our brief tussle. I checked her for any other weapons but found nothing.
'Why should Maggie force a wedge between our happiness?' she demanded angrily. 'Everything would be so wonderful between my darling Stephen and me – why am I the victim? I, who only wanted to do good and help everyone – especially Maggie!'
'It's called "drama",' replied Havisham wearily. 'Are you going to tell us where you got the rifle or not?'
'Not. You can't stop me. Maybe they'll get away but I can be here ready and waiting on the next reading – or even the one after that! Think you have enough Jurisfiction agents to put Maggie under constant protection?'
I'm sorry you feel that way,' replied Miss Havisham, looking her squarely in the eye. 'Is that your final word?'
'It is.'
'Then you are under arrest for attempted fiction infraction, contrary to Ordinance FMB/0608999 of the Narrative Continuity Code. By the power invested in me by the Council of Genres, I sentence you to banishment outside Mill on the Floss. Move.'
Miss Havisham ordered me to cuff Lucy, and once I had, she held on to me as we jumped into the Great Library. Lucy, for an arrested ad-libber, didn't seem too put out.
'You can't imprison me,' she said as we walked along the corridor of the twenty-third floor. 'I reappear in Maggie's dream seven pages from now. If I'm not there you'll be in more trouble than you know what to do with. This could mean your job, Miss Havisham! Back to Satis House – for good.'
'Would it mean that?' I asked, suddenly wondering whether Miss Havisham wasn't exceeding her authority.
'It would mean the same as it did the last time,' replied Havisham, 'absolutely nothing.'
'Last time?' queried Lucy. 'But this is the first time I've tried something like this!'
'No,' replied Miss Havisham, 'no, it most certainly is not.'
Miss Havisham pointed out a book entitled The Curious Experience of the Patterson Family on the Island of Uffa and told me to open it. We were soon inside, on the foreshore of a Scottish island in the late spring.
'What do you mean?' asked Lucy, looking around her as her earlier confidence evaporated to be replaced by growing panic. 'What is this place?'
'It is a prison, Miss Deane.'
'A prison?' she replied. 'A prison for whom?'
'For them,' said Havisham, indicating several identically youthful and fair-complexioned Lucy Deanes, who had broken cover and were staring in our direction. Our Lucy Deane looked at us, then at her identical sisters, then back to us again.
'I'm sorry!' she said, dropping to her knees. 'Give me another chance – please!'
'Take heart from the fact that this doesn't make you a bad person,' said Miss Havisham. 'You just have a repetitive character disorder. You are a serial ad-libber and the 796th Lucy we have had to imprison here. In less civilised times you would have been reduced to text. Good day.'
And we vanished back to the corridors of the Great Library.
'And to think she was the most pleasant person in Floss!' I said, shaking my head sadly.
'You'll find that the most righteous characters are the first ones to go loco down here. The average life of a Lucy Deane is about a thousand readings; self-righteous indignation kicks in after that. No one could believe it when David Copperfield killed his first wife, either. Good day, Chesh.'
The Cheshire Cat had appeared on a high shelf, grinning to us, itself, and anything else in view.
'Well!' said the Cat. 'Next and Havisham! Problems with Lucy Deane?'
'The usual. Can you get the Well to send in the replacement as soon as possible?'
The Cat assured us he would as soon as possible, seemed crestfallen that I hadn't bought him any Moggilicious cat food and vanished again.
'We need to find anything unusual about Perkins' death', said Miss Havisham. 'Will you help?'
'Of course!' I enthused.
Miss Havisham smiled a rare smile.
'You remind me of myself, all those years ago, before that rat Compeyson brought my happiness to an end.'
She moved closer and narrowed her eyes.
'We keep this to ourselves. Knowledge can be a dangerous thing. Start poking around in the workings of Jurisfiction and you may find more than you bargained for – just remember that.'
She fell silent for a few moments.
'But first, we need to get you fully licensed as a Jurisfiction agent – there's a limit to what you can do as an apprentice. Did you finish the multiple choice?'
I nodded.
'Good. Then you can do your practical exam today. I'll go and organise it while you take your Eject-O-Hat to JurisTech.'
She melted into the air about me and I walked off down the Library corridor towards the elevators. I passed Falstaff, who invited me to 'dance around his maypole'. I told him to sod off, of course, and pressed the elevator 'call' button. The doors opened a minute later and I stepped in. But it wasn't empty. With me were Emperor Zhark and Mrs Tiggy-winkle.
'Which floor?' asked Zhark.
'First, please.'
He pressed the button with a long and finely manicured finger and continued his conversation with Mrs Tiggy-winkle.
'… and that was when the rebels destroyed the third of my battle stations,' said the emperor sorrowfully. 'Have you any idea how much these things cost?'
'Tch,' said Mrs Tiggy-winkle, bristling her spines. 'They always find some way of defeating you, don't they?'
Zhark sighed.
'It's like one huge conspiracy,' he muttered. 'Just when I think I have the Galaxy at my mercy, some hopelessly outnumbered young hothead destroys my most insidious Death Machine using some hithero undiscovered weakness. I'm suing the manufacturer after that last debacle.'
He sighed again, sensed he was dominating the conversation and asked:
'So how's the washing business?'
'Pretty good,' said Mrs Tiggy-winkle, 'but the price of starch is something terrible these days.'
'Oh, I know,' replied Zhark, thumbing his high collar, 'look at this. My name alone strikes terror into billions, but can I get my collars done exactly how I want them?'
The elevator stopped at my floor and I stepped out.
I read myself into Sense and Sensibility and avoided the nursery rhyme characters, who were still picketing the front door; I had Humpty's proposals in my back pocket but still hadn't given them to Libris – in truth I had only promised to do my best, but didn't particularly want to run the gauntlet again. I ran up the back stairs, nodded a greeting to Mrs Henry Dashwood and bumped into Tweed in the lobby; he was talking to a lithe and adventurous-looking young man whose forehead was etched with an almost permanent frown. He quickly broke off when I appeared.
'Ah!' said Tweed. 'Thursday. Sorry to hear about Snell; he was a good man.'
'I know – thank you.'
'I've appointed the Gryphon as your new attorney,' he said. 'Is that all right?'
'Sounds fine,' I replied, turning to the youth, who was pulling his hands nervously through his curly hair. 'Hello! I'm Thursday Next.'
'Sorry!' mumbled Harris. 'This is Uriah Hope from David Copperfield; an apprentice I have been asked to train.'
'Pleased to meet you,' replied Hope in a friendly tone. 'Perhaps you and I could discuss apprenticeships together some time?'
'The pleasure's mine, Mr Hope. I'm a big fan of your work in Copperfield.'
I thanked them both and left to find the JurisTech offices along Norland Park's seemingly endless corridors. I stopped at a door at random, knocked and looked in. Behind a desk was one of the many Greek heroes who could be seen wandering around the Library; licensing their stories for remakes made a very reasonable living. He was on the footnoterphone.
'Okay,' he said, 'I'll be down to pick up Eurydice next Friday. Anything I can do for you in return?'
He raised a finger signalling for me to wait.
'Don't look back? That's all? Okay, no problem. See you then. 'Bye.'
He put down the horn and looked at me.
'Thursday Next, isn't it?'
'Yes; do you know where the JurisTech office is?'
'Down the corridor, first on the right.'
'Thanks.'
I made to leave but he called me back, pointing at the footnoterphone.
'I've forgotten already – what was I meant not to do?'
I'm sorry,' I said, 'I wasn't listening.'
I walked down the corridor and opened another door into a room that had nothing in it except a man with a frog growing out of his shiny bald head.
'Goodness!' I said. 'How did that happen?'
'It all started with a pimple on my bum,' said the frog. 'Can I help you?'
I'm looking for Professor Plum.'
'You want JurisTech. This is Old Jokes. Try next door.'
I thanked him and knocked on the next door. I heard a very sing-song 'Come in!' and entered. Although I had expected to see a strange laboratory full of odd inventions, there was nothing of the sort – just a man dressed in a check suit sitting behind a desk, reading some papers. He reminded me of Uncle Mycroft – just a little more perky.
'Ah!' he said, looking up. 'Miss Next. Did you bring the hat with you?'
'Yes,' I replied, 'but how—?'
'Miss Havisham told me,' he said simply.
It seemed there weren't many people who didn't talk to Miss Havisham or who didn't have Miss Havisham talk to them.
I took out the battered Eject-O-Hat and placed it on the table. Plum picked up the broken activation handle, nicked a magnifying glass in front of his eye and stared at the frayed end minutely. 15
'Oh!' I said. 'I'm getting it again!'
'What?'
'A crossed line on my footnoterphone!'
'I can get a trace if you want – here, put this galvanised bucket on your head.'
'Not for a minute or two,' I told him, 'I want to see how it all turns out.'
'As you wish.'
So as he examined the hat I listened to Sofya and Vera prattle on.
'Well,' he said finally, 'it looks as though it has chafed through. The Mk IV is an old design – I'm surprised to see it still in use.'
'So it was just a failure due to poor maintenance?' I asked, not without some relief.
'A failure that saved a life, yes.'
'What do you mean?' I asked, my relief short lived.
He showed me the hat. Inside an inspection cover were intricate wires and small flashing lights that looked impressive.
'Someone has wired the retextualising inhibitor to the ISBN code rectifiers. If the cord had been pulled, there would have been an overheat in the primary booster coils.'
'Overheat?' I asked. 'My head would have got hot?'
'More than hot. Enough energy would have been released to write about fourteen novels.'
'I'm an apprentice, Plum, tell me in simple terms.'
He looked at me seriously.
'There wouldn't be much left of the hat – or the person wearing it. It happens occasionally on the Mk IVs – it would have been seen as an accident. Good thing there was a broken cord.'
He whistled softly.
'Nifty piece of work, too. Someone who knew what they were doing.'
'That's very interesting,' I said slowly. 'Can you give me a list of people who might have been able to do this sort of work?'
'Take a few days.'
'Worth the wait. I'll call back.'
I met up with Miss Havisham and the Bellman in the Jurisfiction offices. The Bellman nodded a greeting and consulted his ever-present clipboard.
'Looks like a dog day, ladies.'
'Thurber again?'
'No, Mansfield Park. Lady Bertram's pet pug has been run over and needs to be replaced.'
'Again?' replied Havisham. 'That must be the sixth. I wish she'd be more careful.'
'Seventh. You can pick it up from stores.'
He turned his attention to me.
'Miss Havisham says you are ready to take the practical test to bring you up from apprentice to restricted agent.'
'I'm ready,' I replied, thinking I was anything but.
'I'm sure you are,' answered the Bellman thoughtfully, 'but it is a bit soon – if it weren't for the shortage caused by Mrs Nakajima's retirement, I think you would remain as an apprentice for a few more months. Well,' he sighed, 'can't be helped. I've had a look at the duty roster and I think I've found an assignment that should test your mettle. It's an Internal Plot Adjustment order from the Council of Genres.'
Despite my natural feelings of caution, I was also, to my shame, excited by a practical test of my abilities. Dickens? Hardy? Perhaps even Shakespeare.
'Shadow the Sheepdog,' announced the Bellman, 'by Enid Blyton. It needs to have a happy ending.'
'Shadow … the Sheepdog,' I repeated slowly, hoping my disappointment didn't show. 'Okay. What do you want me to do?'
'Simple. As it stands, Shadow is blinded by the barbed wire, so he can't be sold to the American film producer. Up ending because he isn't sold, down ending because he is blinded and useless. All we need to do is to have him miraculously regain his sight the next time he goes to the vet on page …' He consulted his clipboard. '… two thirty-two.'
'And,' I said cautiously, not wanting the Bellman to realise how unprepared I was, 'what plan are we going to use?'
'Swap dogs,' replied the Bellman simply. 'All collies look pretty much the same.'
'What about Vestigial Plot Memory?' asked Havisham. 'Do we have any smoothers?'
'It's all on the job sheet,' returned the Bellman, tearing off a sheet of paper and handing it to me. 'You do know all about smoothers, of course?'
'Of course!' I replied.
'Good. Any more questions?'
I shook my head.
'Excellent!' exclaimed the Bellman. 'Just one more thing. Bradshaw is investigating the Perkins incident. Would you make sure he gets your reports as soon as possible?'
'Of course!'
He made a few 'must get on' noises and left.
As soon as he had gone I said to Havisham:
'Do you think I'm ready for this, ma'am?'
'Thursday,' she said in her most serious voice, 'listen to me. Jurisfiction has need of agents who can be trusted to do the right thing.' She looked around the room. 'Sometimes it is difficult to know whom we can trust. Sometimes the sickeningly self-righteous – like you – are the last bastion of defence against those who would mean the BookWorld harm.'
'Meaning?'
'Meaning you can stop asking so many questions and do as you're told – just pass this practical first time. Understand?'
'Yes, Miss Havisham.'
'That's settled, then,' she added. 'Anything else?'
'Yes,' I replied. 'What's a smoother?'
'Do you not read your TravelBook?'
'It's quite long,' I pleaded. 'I've been consulting it whenever possible but have still got no farther than the preface.'
'Well,' she began as we jumped to Wemmick's Stores in the lobby of the Great Library, 'plots have a sort of inbuilt memory. They can spring back to how they originally ran with surprising ease.'
'Like time,' I murmured, thinking about my father.
'If you say so,' returned Miss Havisham. 'So on Internal Plot Adjustment duties we often have to have a smoother – a secondary device that reinforces the primary plot swing. We changed the end of Conrad's Lord Jim, you know. Originally, he runs away. A bit weak. We thought it would be better if Jim delivered himself to Chief Doramin as he had pledged following Brown's massacre.'
'That didn't work?'
'No. The chief kept on forgiving him. We tried everything. Insulting the chief, tweaking his nose – after the forty-third attempt we were getting desperate; Bradshaw was almost pulling his hair out.'
'So what did you do?'
'We retrospectively had the chief's son die in the massacre. It did the trick. The chief had no trouble shooting Jim after that.'
I mused about this for a moment.
'How did Jim take it?' I asked. 'The decision for him to die, I mean?'
'He was the one who asked for the plot adjustment in the first place,' murmured Havisham. 'He thought it was the only honourable thing to do – mind you, the chief's son wasn't exactly over the moon about it.'
'Ah,' I said, pondering that here in the BookWorld the pencil of life occasionally did have a rubber on the other end.
'So you'll send a cheque for a hundred pounds to the farmer, and buy his pigs for double the market rate – that way, he won't need the cash and won't want to resell Shadow to the film producer. Get it? Good afternoon, Mr Wemmick.'
We had arrived at the stores. Wemmick himself was a short man, a native of Great Expectations, aged about forty with a pockmarked face. He greeted us enthusiastically.
'Good afternoon, Miss Havisham, Miss Next – I trust all is well?'
'Quite well, Mr Wemmick. I understand you have a few canines for us?'
'Indeed,' replied the storekeeper, pointing to where two dogs were attached to a hook in the wall by their leads.
'Pug, Lady Bertram's, to be replaced, one. Shadow, sheepdog, sighted, to swap with existing dog, blind, one. Cheque for the farmer, value: one hundred pounds sterling, one. Cash to buy pigs, forty-two pounds, ten shillings and fourpence. Sign here.'
The two dogs panted and wagged their tails. The collie had his eyes bound with a bandage.
'Any questions?'
'Do we have a cover story for this cheque?' I asked.
'Use your imagination. I'm sure you'll think of something.'
'Wait a moment,' I said, alarm bells suddenly ringing, 'aren't you coming with me to supervise?'
'Not at all!' Havisham grinned with a strange look in her eye. 'Assessed work has to be done solo; I'll mark you on your report and the successful – or not – realigned story within the book. This is so simple even you can't mess it up.'
'Couldn't I do Lady Bertram's pug?' I asked, trying to make it sound like something hard and of great consequence.
'Out of the question! Besides, I don't do'children's books any more – not after the incident with Larry the Lamb. But since Shadow is out of print no one will notice if you make a pig's ear of it. Remember that Jurisfiction is an honourable establishment and you should reflect that in your bearing and countenance. Be resolute in your work and fair and just. Destroy grammasites with extreme prejudice – and shun any men with amorous intentions.'
She thought for a moment.
'Or any intentions, come to that. Have you got your TravelBook to enable you to jump back?'
I patted my breast pocket where the slim volume was kept and she was gone, only to return a few moments later to swap dogs and vanish again. I was just about to jump to the second floor when a voice made me turn.
'Hello!' he said. 'All well?'
It was the Cheshire Cat. He was sitting on top of the Boojumorial, grinning fit to burst.
'I'm just about to do my practical.'
'Excellent!' said the Cat. 'Whereabouts?'
'Shadow the Sheepdog.'
'Enid Blyton, 1950, Collins, two fifty-six pages, illustrated,' muttered the Cat, to whom every book in the Library was a revered friend. 'Apart from the D-words in it, for Blyton it's not too bad at all – a product of its time, one might argue. What are you going to do with it?'
'Happier ending,' I explained. 'I have to swap dogs.'
'Ah!' said the Cat, wrinkling his whiskers and grinning some more. 'Just like the job we did on Gipson's Old Yeller last year.'
'Old Yetter?' I repeated incredulously. 'The new ending is the happy one?!'
'You should have read it before we changed it. Sad wasn't the word. Children were going into traumatic shock it was so depressing.'
And he blew his nose so violently he vanished with a faint pop.
I waited for a moment in case he reappeared and, when he didn't, read my way diligently to the second floor of the Library and picked Shadow the Sheepdog off the shelf. I paused. I was nervous and my palms had started to sweat. I scolded myself. How hard could a plot readjustment in an Enid Blyton be? I took a deep breath and, notwithstanding the simplistic nature of the novel, opened the slim volume with an air of serious trepidation – as though it were War and Peace.
19
Shadow the Sheepdog
'Shadow the Sheepdog, the story of a supremely loyal and intelligent sheepdog in a rural pre-war countryside, was published by Collins in 1950. A compulsive scribbler from her early teens, Enid Blyton found escape from her own unhappy childhood in the simple tales she wove for children. She has been republished in revised forms to suit modern tastes and has consistently remained popular over five decades. The independently minded children of her stones live in an idealised world of eternal summer holidays, adventure, high tea, ginger beer, cake and grown-ups with so little intelligence that they need everything explained to them – something that is not so very far from the truth.'
MILLON DE FLOSS – Enid Blyton
I read myself into the book, halfway down page 231. Johnny, the farmer's boy who was Shadow's owner and co-protagonist, would be having Shadow's eyes checked in a few days, so a brief reconnaissance of the area seemed like a good idea. If I could persuade rather than order the vet to swap the dogs, then so much the better. I alighted in a town which looked like some sort of forties rural idyll – a mix of Warwickshire and the Dales. All green grass, show-quality cattle, yellow-lichened stone walls, sunshine and healthy-looking, smiling people. Horses pulled carts laden high with hay down the main street and the odd shiny motor-car puttered past. Pies cooled on window sills and children played with hoops and tinplate steam engines. The smell in the breeze was of freshly mown grass, clean linen and cooking. Here was a world of high tea, tasty trifles, zero crime, eternal summers and boundless good health. I suspected living here might be quite enjoyable – for about a week.
I was nodded at by a passer-by.
'Beautiful day!' she said politely.
'Yes,' I replied. 'My—'
I looked up at the small puffy clouds that stretched away to the horizon.
'I shouldn't have thought so,' I began, 'but can you—'
'Well, be seeing you!' said the woman politely, and was gone.
I found an alleyway and tied the sheepdog to a downpipe; it was neither useful nor necessary to lead a dog around town for the next few hours. I walked carefully down the road, past a family butcher's, a tea room and a sweet shop selling nothing but gobstoppers, bull's-eyes, ginger beer, lemonade and liquorice. A few doors farther on I found a newsagent and post office combined. The outside of the small shop was liberally covered with enamel signs advertising Fry's chocolates, Colman's starch, Wyncarnis tonic, Ovaltine and Lyons cakes. A small sign told me I could use the telephone, and a rack of postcards shared the pavement with boxes of fresh veg. There was also a display of newspapers, the headlines reflecting the inter-war politics of the book.
Britain voted favourite empire tenth year running, said one. Foreigners untrustworthy, study shows, said another. A third led with: 'Spiffing' – new buzzword sweeps nation.
I posted the cheque to Johnny's father with a covering letter explaining that it was an old loan repaid. Almost immediately a postman appeared on a bicycle and removed the letter – the only one in the postbox, I noted – with the utmost reverence, taking it into the post office where I could hear cries of wonderment. There weren't many letters in Shadow, I assumed. I stood outside the shop for a moment, watching the townsfolk going about their business. Without warning one of the carthorses decided to drop a huge pile of dung in the middle of the road. In a trice a villager had run across with a bucket and shovel and removed the offending article almost as soon as it had happened. I watched for a while and then set off to find the local auctioneers.
'So let me get this straight,' said the auctioneer, a heavy-set and humourless man with a monocle screwed into his eye, 'you want to buy pigs at treble the going rate? Why?'
'Not anyone's pigs,' I replied wearily, having spent the last half-hour trying to explain what I wanted, 'Johnny's father's pigs.'
'Quite out of the question,' muttered the auctioneer, getting to his feet and walking to the window. He did it a lot, I could tell – there was a worn patch right through the carpet to the floorboards beneath, but only from his chair to the window. There was another worn patch from the door to a side table – the use of which I was yet to understand. Considering his limitations I guessed the auctioneer was no more than a C-9 Generic – it explained the difficulty in persuading him to change anything.
'We do things to a set formula here,' added the auctioneer, 'and we don't very much like change.'
He walked back to his desk, turned to face me and wagged a reproachful finger.
'And believe me, if you try anything a bit rum at the auction I can discount your bid.'
We stared at each other. This wasn't working.
'Tea and cake?' asked the auctioneer, walking to the window again.
'Thank you,' I replied.
'Splendid!' he enthused, rubbing his hands together and returning to his desk. 'They tell me there is nothing quite so refreshing as a cup of tea!'
He flipped the switch on the intercom.
'Miss Pittman, would you bring in some tea, please?'
The door opened instantaneously to reveal his secretary holding a tray of tea things. She was in her late twenties, and pretty in an English rose sort of way; she wore a floral summer dress under a fawn cardigan.
Miss Pittman followed the smoothly worn floorboards and carpet from the door to the side table. She curtsied and laid the tea things next to an identical tray left from an earlier occasion. She threw the old tea tray out of the window and I heard the soft tinkle of broken crockery; I had seen a large pile of broken tea things outside the window when I arrived. The secretary paused, hands pressed tightly together.
'Shall … shall I pour you a cup?' she asked, a flush rising to her cheeks.
'Thank you!' exclaimed Mr Phillips, walking excitedly to the window and back again. 'Milk and—'
'—one sugar.' His secretary smiled shyly. 'Yes, yes … I know.'
'But of course you do!' He smiled back.
Then the next stage of this odd charade took place. The auctioneer and secretary moved to the place where their two worn paths were closest, the very outer limits that their existence allowed them. Miss Pittman held the cup by its rim, placed her toes right on the edge where carpet began and shiny floorboard ended, stretching out as far as she could. Mr Phillips did the same on his side of the divide. The tips of his fingers could just touch the rim of the cup but try as he might he could not reach far enough to grasp it.
'Allow me,' I said, unable to watch the cruel spectacle any longer. I passed the cup from one to the other.
How many cups of tea had gone cold in the past thirty-five years? I wondered. How uncrossable the six foot of carpet that divided them! Whoever Event Managed this book down in the Well was possessed of a cruel sense of humour.
Miss Pittman curtsied politely and departed while the auctioneer watched her go. He sat down at his desk, eyeing the teacup thirstily. He licked his lips and rubbed his fingertips in expectation, then took a sip and savoured the moment lovingly.
'Oh my goodness!' he said deliriously. 'Even better than I thought it would be!'
He took another sip and closed his eyes with the sheer delight of it.
'Where were we?' he asked.
I took a deep breath.
'I want you to buy Johnny's father's pigs with an offer that purports to come from an unknown buyer – and as close to the top of page two hundred and thirty-two as you can.'
'Utterly impossible!' said the auctioneer. 'You are asking me to change the narrative! I will have to see higher authority.'
I passed him my Jurisfiction ID card. It wasn't like me to pull rank, but I was getting desperate.
'I'm on official business sanctioned by the Council of Genres itself through Text Grand Central.' It was how I thought Miss Havisham might do it.
'You forget that we are out of print pending modernisation,' he replied shortly, tossing my ID back across the table. 'You have no mandatory powers here, Apprentice Next. I think Jurisfiction will look very carefully before attempting a change on a book without internal approval. You can tell the Bellman that, from me.'
We stared at each other, a diplomatic impasse having arrived. I had an idea and asked him:
'How long have you been an auctioneer in this book?'
'Thirty-six years.'
'And how many cups of tea have you had in that time?' I asked him.
'Including this one?'
'One.'
I leaned forward.
'I can fix it for you to have as many cups of tea as you want, Mr Phillips.'
He narrowed his eyes.
'Oh yes?' he replied. 'And how would you manage that? As soon as you've got what you want you'll be off and I'll never be able to reach Miss Pittman's proffered cup again!'
I stood up and went to the table on which the tea tray was sitting. It was a small table made of oak and lightly decorated. It had a vase of flowers on it, but nothing else. As Mr Phillips watched I picked up the table and placed it next to the window. The auctioneer looked at me dumbfounded, got up, walked to the window and delicately touched the table and the tea things.
An audacious move,' he said, waving the sugar tongs at me, 'but it won't work. She's a D-7 – she won't be able to change what she does.'
'D-7s never have names, Mr Phillips.'
'I gave her that name,' he said quietly. 'You're wasting your time.'
'Let's see, shall we?' I replied, speaking into the intercom to ask Miss Pittman to bring in more tea.
The door opened as before and a look of shock and surprise crossed the girl's face.
'The table!' she gasped. 'It's—!'
'You can do it, Miss Pittman,' I told her. 'Just place the tea where you always do.'
She moved forward, following the well-worn path, arrived at where the table used to be and then looked at its new position, two strides away. The smooth and unworn carpet was alien and frightening to her; it might as well have been a bottomless chasm. She stopped dead.
'I don't understand—!' she began, her face bewildered as her hands began to shake.
'Tell her to put the tea things down,' I told the auctioneer, who was becoming as distressed as Miss Pittman – perhaps more so. 'TELL HER!'
'Thank you, Miss Pittman,' murmured Mr Phillips, his voice croaking with emotion, 'put the tea things down over here, would you?'
She bit her lip and closed her eyes, raised her foot and held it, quivering, above the edge of the shiny floorboards. Then she moved it forward and rested it on the soft carpet. She opened her eyes, looked down and beamed at us both.
'Well done!' I said. 'Just two more.'
Brimming with confidence, she negotiated the two remaining steps with ease and placed the tray on the table. She and Mr Phillips were closer now than they had ever been before. She put out a hand to touch his lapel, but checked herself quickly.
'Shall … shall I pour you a cup?' she asked.
'Thank you!' exclaimed Mr Phillips. 'Milk and—'
'—one sugar.' She smiled shyly. 'Yes, yes, I know.'
She poured the tea and handed the cup and saucer to him. He took it gratefully.
'Mr Phillips?'
'Yes?'
'Do I have a first name?'
'Of course,' he replied quietly and with great emotion. 'I have had over thirty years to think about it. Your name is Aurora, as befits somebody as beautiful as the dawn.'
She covered her nose and mouth to hide her smile and blushed deeply. Mr Phillips raised a shaking hand to touch her cheek but stopped as he remembered that I was still present. He nodded imperceptibly in my direction and said:
'Thank you, Miss Pittman – perhaps later you might come in for some … dictation.'
'I look forward to it, Mr Phillips!'
And she turned, trod softly on the carpet to the door, looked round once more and went out. When I looked back at Mr Phillips he had sat down, drained by the emotionally charged encounter.
'Do we have a deal?' I asked him. 'Or do I put the table back where it was?'
He looked shocked.
He considered his position for a moment and then offered me his hand.
'Pigs at treble the going rate?'
'Top of page two thirty-two.'
'Deal.'
Pleased with my actions so far, I collected the dog and jumped forward to the middle of page 232. By now the sale of Johnny's father's pigs was the talk of the town, and had even made it into the headlines of the local papers: Unprecedented pig price shocks town. There was only one thing left to do – replace the blind collie with the sighted one.
'I'm looking for the vet,' I said to a passer-by.
'Are you?' replied the woman amiably. 'Good for you!' and she hurried on.
'Could you tell me the way to the vet?' I asked the next person, a sallow man in a tweed suit. He was no less literal.
'Yes I could,' he replied, attempting to walk on. I tried to grasp him by the sleeve but missed and momentarily clasped his hand. He gasped out loud. This was echoed by two women who had witnessed the incident. They started to gossip volubly. I pulled out my ID.
'Jurisfiction,' I told him, adding: 'On official business,' just to make sure he got the picture.
But something had happened. The inhabitants of the village, who up until that moment had seemed to wander the streets like automatons, were all of a sudden animated individuals, talking, whispering and pointing. I was a stranger in a strange land, and while the inhabitants didn't seem hostile, I was clearly an object of considerable interest.
'I need to get to the vet,' I said loudly. 'Now can anyone tell me where he lives?'
Two ladies who had been chattering suddenly smiled and nodded to one another.
'We'll show you where he works.'
I left the first man still staring at his hand and looking at me in an odd way.
I followed the ladies to a small building set back from the road. I thanked them both. One of them, I noticed, remained at the gate while the other bustled away with a purposeful stride. I rang the doorbell.
'Hello?' said the vet, opening the door and looking surprised; he only had one client booked in that day – Johnny and Shadow. The vet was meant to tell the young lad how Shadow would stay blind for ever.
'This dog,' said the vet automatically, 'will never see again. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is.'
'Jurisfiction,' I told him, showing him my ID. 'There's been a change of plan.'
'If you're exchanging golliwogs for monkeys, you're in the wrong book,' he said.
'This isn't Noddy,' I told him.
'What sort of change, then?' he asked as I gently forced my way in and closed the door. 'Are you here to alter the less-than-savoury references to stereotypical gypsy folk in chapters XIII to XV?'
'We'll get round to that, don't you worry.'
I wasn't going to take any chances and go through the same rigmarole as I had with Mr Phillips, so I looked around furtively and said in a conspiratorial whisper:
'I shouldn't be telling you this, but … wicked men are planning to steal Shadow and sell him off for medical experiments!'
'No!' exclaimed the vet, eyes open wide.
'Indeed,' I replied, adding in a hushed tone: 'And what's more, we suspect that these men might not even be British.'
'You mean …Johnny Foreigners?' asked the vet, visibly shocked.
'Probably French. Now, are you with me on this?'
'Absolutely!' he breathed. 'What are we going to do?'
'Swap dogs. When Johnny arrives you tell him to go outside for a moment, we swap the dogs, when he comes back you unwrap the bandages, the dog can see – and you say this dialogue instead.'
I handed him a scrap of paper. He looked at it thoughtfully.
'So Shadow stays here and the swapped Shadow is abducted by Johnny Foreigner and used for medical experiments?'
'Something like that. But not a word to anyone, you understand?'
'Word of honour!' replied the vet.
So I gave him the collie and, sure enough, when Johnny brought in the blinded Shadow, the vet told him to go and get some water, we swapped dogs and, when Johnny returned, lo and behold, the dog could see again. The vet feigned complete surprise and Johnny, of course, was delighted. They left soon after.
I stepped from the office where I had been hiding. How did I do?' asked the vet, washing his hands.
'Perfect. There could be a medal in it for you.'
It all seemed to have gone swimmingly well. I couldn't believe my luck. But more than that, I had the feeling that Havisham might actually be quite proud of her apprentice – at the very least this should make up for having to rescue me from the grammasites. Pleased, I opened the door to the street and was surprised to find that a lot of the locals had gathered, and they all seemed to be staring at me. My feeling of euphoria over the completed mission suddenly evaporated as unease welled up inside me.
'It's time! It's time!' announced one of the ladies I had seen earlier.
'Time for what?'
'Time for a wedding!'
'Whose?' I asked, not unreasonably.
'Why yours, of course!' she answered happily. 'You touched Mr Townsperson's hand. You are betrothed. It is the law!'
The crowd surged towards me and I reached, not for my gun, but for my TravelBook in order to get out quickly. It was the wrong choice. Within a few moments I had been overpowered. They took my book and gun, then held me tightly and propelled me towards a nearby house where I was forced into a wedding dress that had seen a lot of previous use and was several sizes too big.
'You won't get away with this!' I told them as they hurriedly brushed and plaited my hair with two men holding my head. 'Jurisfiction know where I am and will come after me, I swear!'
'You'll get used to married life,' exclaimed one of the women, her mouth full of pins. 'They all complain to begin with – but by the end of the afternoon they are as meek as lambs. Isn't that so, Mr Rustic?'
'Aye, Mrs Passer-by,' said one of the men holding my arms, 'like lambs, meek.'
'You mean there were others?'
'There is nothing like a good wedding,' said one of the other men, 'nothing except—'
Here Mr Rustic nudged him and he was quiet.
'Nothing except what!' I asked, struggling again.
'Oh, hush!' said Mrs Passer-by. 'You made me drop a stitch! Do you really want to look a mess on your wedding day?'
'Yes.'
Ten minutes later, bruised and with my hands tied behind my back and a garland of flowers in my badly pinned hair, I was being escorted towards the small village church. I managed to grab the lichgate on the way in but was soon pulled clear. A few moments later I was standing at the altar next to Mr Townsperson, who was neatly dressed in a morning suit. He smiled at me happily and I scowled back.
'We are gathered here today in the eyes of God to bring together this woman and this man …'
I struggled but it was no good.
'This proceeding has no basis in law!' I shouted, attempting to drown out the vicar. He signalled to the verger, who placed a bit of sticking plaster over my mouth. I struggled again but with four burly farmworkers holding me, it was useless. I watched with a sort of strange fascination as the wedding proceeded, the villagers snivelling with happiness in the small church. When it came to the vows, my head was vigorously nodded for me, and a ring pressed on my finger.
'… I now pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride.'
Mr Townsperson loomed closer. I tried to back away but was held tightly. Mr Townsperson kissed me tenderly on the sticking plaster that covered my mouth. As he did so an excited murmur went up from the congregation.
There was applause and I was dragged towards the main door, covered in confetti and made to pose for a wedding photograph. For the picture the sticking plaster was removed so I had time to make my protestations.
'No coerced wedding was ever recognised by law!' I bellowed. 'Let me go right now and I may not report you!'
'Don't worry, Mrs Townsperson,' said Mrs Passer-by, addressing me, 'in ten minutes it really won't matter. You see, we rarely get the opportunity to perform nuptials as no one in here ever gets married – the Well never went so far as to offer us that sort of luxury.'
'What about the others you mentioned?' I asked, a sense of doom rising within me. 'Where are the other brides who were forced into marriage?'
Everyone looked solemn, clasped their hands together and stared at the ground.
'What's going on?' I asked. 'What will happen in ten minutes—?'
I turned as the four men let go of me, and saw the vicar again. But he wasn't cheery this time. He was very solemn, and well he might be. Before him was a freshly dug grave. Mine.
'Oh my God!' I muttered.
'Dearly beloved, we are gathered …' began the vicar as the same townsfolk began to sniffle into their hankies again. But this time the tears weren't of happiness – they were of sorrow.
I cursed myself for being so careless. Mr Townsperson had my automatic and released the safety catch. I looked around desperately. Even if I had been able to get a message to Havisham I doubted whether she could have made it in time.
'Mr Townsperson,' I said in a quiet voice, staring into his eyes, 'my own husband! You would kill your bride?'
He trembled slightly and glanced at Mrs Passer-by.
'I'm … I'm afraid so, my dear,' he faltered.
'Why?' I asked, stalling for time.'
'We need the … need the—'
'For Panjandrum's sake get on with it!' snapped Mrs Passer-by, who seemed to be the chief instigator of all this, 'I need my emotional fix!'
'Wait!' I said. 'You're after emotion?
'They call us Sentiment Junkies,' said Mr Townsperson nervously. 'It's not our fault. We are Generics rated between C-7 and D-3; we don't have many emotions of our own but are smart enough to know what we're missing.'
'If you don't kill her, I shall!' mumbled Mr Rustic, tapping my 'husband' on the elbow. He pulled away.
'She has a right to know,' he remarked. 'She is my wife, after all.'
He looked nervously left and right.
'Go on.'
'We started with humorous one-liners that offered a small kick. That kept us going for a few months but soon we wanted more: laughter, joy, happiness in any form we could get it. Thrice-monthly garden fetes, weekly harvest festivals and tombola four times a day were not enough; we wanted … the hard stuff.'
'Grief,' murmured Mrs Passer-by, 'grief, sadness, sorrow, loss – we wanted it but we wanted it strong. Ever read On Her Majesty's Secret Service?
I nodded.
'We wanted that. Our hearts raised by the happiness of a wedding and then dashed by the sudden death of the bride!'
I stared at the slightly crazed Generics. Unable to generate emotions synthetically from within the confines of their happy rural idyll, they had embarked upon a systematic rampage of enforced weddings and funerals to give them the high they desired. I looked at the graves in the churchyard and wondered how many others had suffered this fate.
'We will all be devastated by your death, of course,' whispered Mrs Passer-by, 'but we will get over it – the slower the better!'
'Wait!' I said. 'I have an idea!'
'We don't want ideas, my love,' said Mr Townsperson, pointing the gun at me again, 'we want emotion.'
'How long will this fix last?' I asked him. 'A day? How sad can you be for someone you barely know?'
They all looked at one another. I was right. The fix they were getting by killing and burying me would last until teatime if they were lucky.
'You have a better idea?'
'I can give you more emotion than you know how to handle,' I told them. 'Feelings so strong you won't know what to do with yourselves.'
'She's lying!' cried Mrs Passer-by dispassionately. 'Kill her now – I can't wait any longer! I need the sadness! Give it to me!'
'I'm Jurisfiction,' I told them. 'I can bring more jeopardy and strife into this book than a thousand Blytons could give you in a lifetime!'
'You could?' echoed the townspeople excitedly, lapping up the expectation I was generating.
'Yes – and here's how I can prove it. Mrs Passer-by?'
'Yes?'
'Mr Townsperson told me earlier he thought you had a fat arse.'
'He said what?' she replied angrily, her face suffused with joy as she fed off the hurt feelings I had generated.
'I most certainly said no such thing!' blustered Mr Townsperson, obviously feeling a big hit himself from the indignation.
'Us too!' yelled the townsfolk excitedly, eager to see what else I had in my bag of goodies.
'Nothing before you untie me!'
They did so with great haste; sorrow and happiness had kept them going for a long time but they had grown bored – I was here in the guise of dealer, offering new and different experiences.
I asked for my gun and was handed it, the townspeople watching me expectantly like a dodo waiting for marshmallows.
'For a start,' I said, rubbing my wrists and throwing the wedding ring aside, 'I can't remember who got me pregnant!'
There was a sudden silence.
'Shocking!' said the vicar. 'Outrageous, morally repugnant – mmmm!'
'But better than that,' I added, 'if you had killed me you would also have killed my unborn son – guilt like that could have lasted for months!'
'Yes!' yelled Mr Rustic. 'Kill her now!'
I pointed the gun at them and they stopped in their tracks
'You'll always regret not having killed me,' I murmured.
The townsfolk went quiet and mused upon this, the feeling of loss coursing through their veins.
'It feels wonderful!' said one of the farmworkers, taking a seat on the grass to focus his mind more carefully on the strange emotional pot-pourri offered by a missed opportunity of double murder. But I wasn't done yet.
'I'm going to report you to the Council of Genres,' I told them, 'and tell them how you tried to kill me – you could be shut down and reduced to text!'
I had them now. They all had their eyes closed and were rocking backwards and forwards, moaning quietly.
'Or perhaps,' I added, beginning to back away, 'I won't.'
I pulled off the wedding dress at the lichgate and looked back, townspeople were laid out on the ground, eyes closed, surfing their inner feelings on a cocktail of mixed emotions. They wouldn't be down for days.
I picked up myjacket and TravelBook on the way to the vet's, where the blind Shadow was waiting for me. I had completed the mission, even if I had come a hair's breadth from a sticky end. I could do better, and would, given time. I heard a low, growly voice close at hand.
'What happens to me? Am I reduced to text?'
It was Shadow.
'I see,' replied the dog, 'and unofficially?'
I thought for a moment.
'Do you like rabbits?'
I pulled out my TravelBook.
'Good. Give me your paw. We're off to Rabbit Grand Central.'
20
Ibb and Obb named and Heights again
'BookStackers: To rid a book of the mispeling vyrus, many thousands of dictionaries are moved into the offending novel and stacked either side of the outbreak as a mispeling barrage. The wall of dictionaries is then moved in, paragraph by paragraph, until the vyrus is forced into a single sentence, then a word, then smothered completely. The job is done by BookStackers, usually D-Grade Generics, although for many years the Anti-mispeling Fast Response Group (AFRD) has been manned by over six-thousand WOLP—surplus Mrs Danvers. (See Danvers, Mrs – overproduction of.)'
UA OF W CAT – The Jurisfiction Guide to the Great Library (glossary)
It was three days later. I had just had my early morning vomit and was lying back in bed, staring at Gran's note and trying to make sense of it. One word. Remember. What was I meant to remember? She hadn't yet returned from the Medici court and, although the note may have been the product of a Granny Next 'fuzzy moment', I still felt uneasy. There was something else. Beside my bed was a sketch of an attractive man in his late thirties. I didn't know who he was – which was odd, because I had sketched it.
There was an excited knock at the door. It was Ibb. It had been looking more feminine all week and had even gone so far as to put on haughty airs all day Wednesday. Obb, on the other hand, had been insisting he was right about everything, knew everything, and had sulked when I proved it wrong, and we all knew where that was leading.
'Hello, Ibb,' I said, placing the sketch aside, 'how are you?'
Ibb replied by unzipping and opening the top of its overalls.
'Look!' she said excitedly, showing me her breasts.
'Congratulations,' I said slowly, still feeling a bit groggy. 'You're a her.'
'I know!' said Ibb, hardly able to contain her excitement. 'Do you want to see the rest?'
'No thanks,' I replied, 'I believe you.'
'Can I borrow a bra?' she asked, moving her shoulders up and down. 'These things aren't terribly comfortable.'
'I don't think mine would fit you,' I said hurriedly. 'You're a lot bigger than I am.'
'Oh,' she answered, slightly crestfallen, then added: 'How about a hair tie and a brush? I can't do a thing with this hair. Up, down – perhaps I should have it cut, and I so wish it were curly!'
'Ibb, it's fine, really.'
'Lola,' she said, correcting me, 'I want you to call me Lola from now on.'
'Very well, Lola,' I replied, 'sit on the bed.'
So Lola sat while I brushed her hair and she nattered on about a weight-loss idea she had had which seemed to revolve around weighing yourself with one foot on the scales and one on the floor. Using this idea, she told me, she could lose as much weight as she wanted and not give up cakes. Then she started talking about this great new thing she had discovered which was so much fun she thought she'd be doing it quite a lot – and she reckoned she'd have no trouble getting men to assist.
'Just be careful,' I told her. 'Think before you do what you do with who you do it.' It was advice my mother had given me.
'Oh yes,' Lola assured me, 'I'll be very careful – I'll always ask them their name first.'
When I had finished she stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, gave me a big hug and skipped out of the door. I dressed slowly and walked down to the kitchen.
Obb was sitting at the table painting a Napoleonic cavalry officer the height of a pen top. He was gazing intently at the miniature horseman and glowering with concentration. He had developed into a dark-haired and handsome man of at least six foot three over the past few days, with a deep voice and measured speech; he also looked about fifty. I suspected it was now a he but hoped he wouldn't try and demonstrate it in the same way that Lola had.
'Morning, Obb,' I said. 'Breakfast?'
He dropped the horseman on the floor.
'Now look what you've made me do!' he growled, adding: 'Toast, please, and coffee – and it's Randolph, not Obb.'
'Congratulations,' I told him, but he only grunted in reply, found the cavalry officer and carried on with his painting.
Lola bounced into the living room, saw Randolph and stopped for a moment to stare at her nails demurely, hoping he would turn to look at her. He didn't. So she stood closer and said:
'Good morning, Randolph.'
'’morning,' he grunted without looking up, 'how did you sleep?'
'Heavily.'
'Well, you would, 'wouldn't you?'
She missed the insult and carried on jabbering:
'Wouldn't yellow be prettier?'
Randolph stopped and stared at her.
'Blue is the colour of a Napoleonic cavalry officer, Lola. Yellow is the colour of custard – and bananas.'
She turned to me and pulled a face, mouthed 'Square' and then helped herself to coffee.
'Can we go shopping, then?' she asked me. 'If we are buying underwear we might as well get some make-up and some scent; we could try on clothes and generally do girl sort of things together – I could take you out to lunch and gossip a lot, we could have our hair done and then shop some more, talk about boyfriends and perhaps after that go to the gym.'
'It's not exactly my sort of thing,' I said slowly, trying to figure out what sort of book St Tabularasa's had thought Lola might be most suitable for. I couldn't remember the last time I had had a girl's day out – certainly not this decade. Most of my clothes came mail order when did I ever have time for shopping?
'Oh, go on!' said Lola. 'You could do with a day off. What were you doing yesterday?'
'Attending a course on bookjumping using the ISBN positioning system.'
'And the day before?'
'Practical lessons in using textual sieves as PageRunner capturing devices.'
'And before that?'
'Searching in vain for the minotaur.'
'Exactly why you need a break. We don't even have to leave the Well – the latest Grattan catalogue is still under construction. We can get in because I know someone who's got a part-time job justifying text. Please say yes. It means so much to me!'
I sighed.
'Well, all right – but after lunch. I've got to do my Mary Jones thing in Caversham Heights all morning.'
She jumped up and down and clapped her hands with joy. I had to smile at her childish exuberance.
'You might move up a size, too,' said Randolph.
She narrowed her eyes and turned to face him.
'And what do you mean by that?' she asked angrily.
'Exactly what I said.'
'You said it, not me,' replied Randolph, concentrating on his metal soldier.
She picked up a glass of water and poured it into his lap.
'What the hell did you do that for!' he spluttered, getting up and grabbing a tea towel.
'To teach you,' yelled Lola, wagging a finger at him, 'that you can't say whatever you want, to whoever you want!'
And she walked out.
'What did I say?' said Randolph in an exasperated tone. 'Did you see that? She did that for no reason at all!'
'I think you got off lightly,' I told him. 'I'd go and apologise if I were you.'
He thought about this for a few seconds, lowered his shoulders and went off to find Lola, who I could hear sobbing somewhere near the stern of the flying boat.
'Young love!' said a voice behind me. 'Eighteen years of emotions packed into a single week – it can't be easy, now, can it?'
'Gran!' I said, whirling round. 'When did you get back?'
'Just now,' she replied, removing her gingham hat and gloves and passing me some cash.
'What's this?'
'D-3 Generics are annoyingly literal but it can pay dividends – I asked the cabbie to drive backwards all the way here and by the end of the trip he owed me money. How are things?'
I sighed. 'Well, it's like having a couple of teenagers in the house.'
'Look upon it as training for having your own children,' said Gran, sitting down on a chair and sipping my coffee.
'Gran?'
'Yes?'
'How did you get here? I mean, you are here, aren't you? You're not just a memory, or something?'
'Oh, I'm real, all right.' She laughed. 'You just need a bit of looking after until we sort out Aornis.'
'Aornis?' I queried.
'Yes.' Gran sighed. 'Think carefully for a moment.'
I mulled the name in my mind, and, sure enough, Aornis came out of the murk like a ship in fog. But the fog was deep, and there were other things hidden within – I could feel it.
'Oh yes,' I murmured, 'her. What else was I meant to remember?'
'Landen.'
He came out of the fog, too. The man in the sketch. I sat down and put my head in my hands. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten him.
'I'd regard it a bit like measles,' said Gran, patting my back. 'We'll cure you of her, never fear.'
'But then I have to go and battle with her again, in the real world?'
'Mnemonomorphs are always easier to contain on the physical plane,' she observed. 'Once you have beaten her in your mind, the rest should be easy.'
I looked up at her.
'Tell me again about Landen.'
And she did, for the next hour – until it was time for me to stand in for Mary Jones again.
* * *
I drove into Reading in Mary's car, past red Minis, blue Morris Marinas and the ubiquitous Spongg Footcare trucks. I had visited the real Reading on many occasions in my life and although the Heights Reading was a fair impression, the town was lacking in detail. A lot of roads were missing, the library was a supermarket, the Caversham district was a lot more like Beverly Hills than I remember, and there was a very grotty downtown which was more like New York in the seventies. I think I could guess where the author got his inspiration; I suppose it was artistic licence – something to increase the drama.
I stopped in a traffic jam and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. Our investigation of Perkins' death had not made much progress. Bradshaw had found the partially molten padlock and key in the remnants of the castle keep, but they didn't tell us any more. Havisham and I were not having much better luck ourselves: after three days of discreet investigation, only two pieces of information had come to light. First, that only eight members of Jurisfiction had access to The Sword of the Zenobians, and one of them was Vernham Deane. I mention this because he was posted as missing following an excursion into Ulysses to try to figure out what had happened to the stolen punctuation in the final chapter. No one had seen him since. Successive sweeps of Ulysses had failed to show that he had been there at all. In the absence of any more information, Havisham and I had started to discuss the possibility that Perkins might have removed the padlock himself – to clean out the cage or something, although this seemed doubtful. And what about my sabotaged Eject-O-Hat? Neither Havisham nor I had any more idea why I should be considered a threat; as Havisham delighted in pointing out, I was 'completely unimportant'.
But the big news that had emerged in the past few days was that the time of the UltraWord™ upgrade had been set. Text Grand Central had brought the date forward a fortnight to coincide with the 923rd Annual BookWorld Awards. During the ceremony Libris would inaugurate the new system before an audience of seven million invited characters. The Bellman told us he had been up to Text Grand Central and seen the new UltraWord™ engines for himself. Sparkling new, each engine could process about a thousand simultaneous readings of each book – the old V8.3 engines were lucky to top a hundred.
I wound down the window and looked out. Traffic jams in Reading weren't uncommon but they usually moved a little bit, and this one had been solid for twenty minutes. Exasperated, I got out of the car and went to have a look. Strangely, there appeared to have been an accident. I say strangely because all the drivers and pedestrians inside Caversham Heights were only Generic D-2 to D-9s and anything as dramatic as an accident was quite outside their brief. As I walked past the eight blue Morris Marinas in front of me, I noticed that each one had an identically damaged front wing and shattered windscreen. By the time I reached the head of the queue I could see that the incident involved one of the white Spongg Footcare trucks. But this truck was different from the others. Usually, they were unwashed Luton-bodied Fords with petrol streaks near the filler cap and a scratched roller shutter at the rear. This truck had none of these – it was pure white, very boxy and without a streak of dirt on it anywhere. The wheels, I noticed, weren't strictly round, either – they were more like a fifty-sided polygon which gave an impression of a circle. I looked closer. The tyres had no surface detail or texture. They were just flat black, without depth. The driver was no more detailed than the truck; he – or she or it – was pink and cubist with simple features and a pale blue boiler suit. The truck had been turning left and had hit one of the blue Morris Marinas, damaging all of them identically. The driver, a grey-haired man wearing herringbone tweed, was trying to remonstrate with the cubist driver but without much luck. The truck driver turned to face him, tried to speak but then gave up and looked straight ahead, going through the motions of driving the truck even though he was stationary.
'What's going on?' I asked the small crowd that had gathered.
'This idiot turned left when he shouldn't have,' explained the grey-haired Morris Marina driver while his identical grey-haired Generic D-4 clones nodded their heads vigorously. 'We could all have been killed!'
'Are you okay?' I said to the cubist driver, who looked blankly at me and attempted to change gear.
'I ve been driving in Caversham Heights since the book was written and never had an accident,' the Morris Marina driver carried on indignantly. 'This will play hell with my no-claims bonus – and what's more, I can't get any sense out of him at all!'
'I saw it all,' said another Spongg truck driver – a proper one this time. 'Whoever he is he needs to go back to driving school and take a few lessons.'
'Well, the show's over,' I told them. 'Mr Morris Marina Driver, is your car drivable?'
'I think so,' replied the eight identical middle-aged drivers in unison.
'Then get it out of here. Generic Truck Driver?'
'Yes?'
'Find a tow rope and get this heap of junk off the road.'
He left to do my bidding as the eight Morris Marina drivers drove off in their identically spluttering cars.
I was waving the cars around the stranded truck when there was a crackle in the air. The cubist truck vanished from the roadside leaving nothing but the faint smell of cantaloupes. I stared at the space left by the truck. The drivers were more than happy that this obstacle to their ordered lives had been removed, and they sounded their horns at me to get out of the way. I examined the area of the road carefully but found nothing except a single bolt made in the same style as the truck – no texture, just the same cubic shape. I walked back to my car, placed it in my bag, and drove on.
Jack was waiting for me outside Mickey Finn's Gym, situated above a couple of shops in Coley Avenue. We were there to question a boxing promoter about allegations of fight fixing. It was the best scene in Caversham Heights – gritty, realistic, and with good characterisation and dialogue. I met Jack slightly earlier while the story was off on a sub-plot regarding a missing consignment of ketamine, so there was time for a brief word together. Caversham Heights wasn't first-person – which was just as well, really, as I didn't think Jack had the depth of character to support it.
'Good morning, Jack,' I said as I walked up, 'how are things?'
He looked a lot happier than the last time I saw him and smiled agreeably, handing me coffee in a paper cup.
'Excellent, Mary – I should call you Mary, shouldn't I, just in case I have a slip of the tongue when we're being read? Listen, I went to see my wife Madeleine last night, and after a heated exchange of opinions we came to some sort of agreement.'
'You're going back to her?'
'Not quite,' replied Jack, taking a sip of coffee, 'but we agreed that if I stopped drinking and never saw Agatha Diesel again, she would consider it!'
'Well, that's a start, isn't it?'
'Yes,' replied Jack, 'but it might not be as simple as you think. I received this in the post this morning.'
He handed me a letter. I unfolded it and read:
Dear Mr Spratt,
It has come to our attention that you may be attempting to give up the booze and reconcile with your wife. While we approve of this as a plot device to generate more friction and inner conflicts, we most strongly advise you not to carry it through to a happy reconciliation, as this would put you in direct contravention of Rule IIc of the Union of Sad Loner Detectives' Code, as ratified by the Union of Literary Detectives, and it will ultimately result in your expulsion from the association with subsequent loss of benefits.
I trust you will do the decent thing and halt this damaging and abnormal behaviour before it leads to your downfall.
PS. Despite repeated demands, you have failed to drive a classic car or pursue an unusual hobby. Please do so at once or face the consequences.
'Hmm,' I muttered, 'it's signed Poi—'
'I know who it's signed by,' replied Jack sadly, retrieving the letter. 'The union is very powerful. They have influence that goes all the up to the Great Panjandrum. This could hasten the demolition of Caversham Heights, not delay it. Father Brown wanted to renounce the priesthood umpteen times, but, well, the union—'
'Jack,' I said, 'what do you want?'
'Me?'
'Yes, you.'
He sighed.
'It's not as simple as that. I have a responsibility for the seven hundred and eighty-six other characters in this book. Think of it – all those Generics sold off like post-Christmas turkeys or reduced to text. It makes me shudder just to think about it!'
'That might happen anyway, Jack. At least this way we have a fighting chance. Do your own thing. Break away from the norm.'
He sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair.
'But what about the conflicts'? Isn't that the point of being a loner detective? The appalling self-destruction, the inner battles within ourselves that add spice to the proceedings and enable the story to advance more interestingly? We can't just have murder-interview-interview-second murder-conjecture-interview-conjecture-false ending-dramatic twist-resolution, can we? Where's the interest if a detective doesn't get romantically involved with someone who has something to do with the first murder? Why, I might never have to make a choice between justice and my own personal feelings ever again!'
'And what if you don't?' I persisted. 'It needn't be like that. There's more than one way to make a story interesting.'
'Okay,' he said, 'let's say I do live happily with Madeleine and the kids – what am I going to do for sub-plots? In a story like this conflict, for want of a better word, is good. Conflict is right. Conflict works.'
He gazed at me angrily, but I knew he still believed in himself – the fact that we were even having this conversation proved that.
'It doesn't have to be marital conflicts,' I told him. 'We could get a few sub-plots from the Well and sew them in – I agree the action can't always stay with you, but if we— Hello, I think we've got company.'
A pink Triumph Herald had pulled up with a middle-aged woman in it. She got out, walked straight up to Jack and slapped him hard in the face.
'How dare you!' she screamed. 'I waited three hours for you at the Sad & Single wine bar – what happened?'
'I told you, Agatha. I was with my wife.'
'Sure you were,' she spat, her voice rising. 'Don't patronise me with your pathetic little lies – who are you screwing this time? One of those little tarts down at the station?'
'It's true,' he replied in an even voice, more shocked than outraged. 'I told you last night – it's all over, Agatha.'
'Oh yes? I suppose you put him up to this?' she said, looking at me, scorn and anger in her eyes. 'You come down here on a character exchange with your Outlander airs and self-determination bullshit and think you can improve the storyline? The supreme arrogance of you people!'
She stopped for a moment and looked at the pair of us.
'You're sleeping together, aren't you?'
'No,' I told her firmly, 'and if there aren't some improvements round here soon, there won't be a book. If you want a transfer out of here, I'm sure I can arrange something—'
'It's all so easy for you, isn't it?' she said, her face convulsing with anger and then fear as her voice rose. 'Think you can just make a few footnoterphone calls and everything will be just dandy?'
She pointed a long bony finger at me. 'Well, I'll tell you, Miss Outlander, I will not take this lying down!'
She glared at us both, marched back to her car and drove off with a squeal of tyres.
'How about that for a conflictual sub-plot?' I asked, but Jack wasn't amused.
'Let's see what else you can dream up – I'm not sure I like that one. Did you find out when the Book Inspectorate are due to read us?'
'Not yet,' I told him.
Jack looked at his watch. 'Come on, we've got the fight-rigging scene to do. You'll like this one. Mary was sometimes a little late with the "If you don't know we can't help you" line when we did the old good cop/bad cop routine, but just stay on your toes and you'll be fine.'
He seemed a lot happier having stood up to Agatha, and we walked across the road to where some rusty iron stairs led up to the gym.
Reading, Tuesday. It had been raining all night and the rain-washed streets reflected the dour sky. Mary and Jack walked up the steel steps that led to Mickey Finn's. A lugubrious gym that smelt of sweat and dreams, where hopefuls tried to spar their way out of Reading's underclass. Mickey Finn was an ex-boxer himself, with scarred eyes and a tremor to prove it. In latter days he was a trainer, then a manager. Today he just ran the gym and dabbled in drug-dealing on the side.
'Who are we here to see?' asked Mary as their feet rang out on the iron treads.
'Mickey Finn,' replied Jack. 'He got caught up in some trouble a few years ago and I put in a good word. He owes me.'
They reached the top and opened the doo—
It was a good job the door opened outwards. If it had opened inwards I would not be here to tell the tale. Jack teetered on the edge and I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. The only part of Mickey Finn's that remained were short floorboards that changed to descriptive prose less than a foot out, the ragged ends whipping and fluttering like pennants in the wind. Beyond these remnants was nothing but a dizzying drop to a bleak and windswept sea, whipped up into a frenzy by a typhoon. The waves rose and fell, carrying with them small ships that looked like trawlers, the sailors on board covered in oilskins. But the sea wasn't water as I knew it; the waves here were made of letters, some of which had coalesced into words and on occasion short sentences. Every now and then a word or sentence would burst enthusiastically from the surface, where it would be caught by the sailors, who held nets on long poles.
'Blast!' said Jack. 'Damn and blast!'
'What is it?' I asked as letters that spelt 'saxophone' came barrelling towards us, changing to a real saxophone as they crossed the threshold and hit the ironwork of the staircase with a crash. The clouds of individual letters in the sky above the wave-tossed sea contained punctuation marks that swirled in ugly patterns. Now and then a bolt of lightning struck the sea and the letters swirled near the point of discharge, spontaneously creating words.
'The Text Sea!' yelled Jack against the rush of wind. We attempted to close the door against the gale as a grammasite flew past with a loud 'Gark!' and expertly speared a verb that had jumped from the sea at a badly chosen moment.
We pressed our weight against the door and it closed. The wind abated, the thunder now merely a distant rumble behind the half-glazed door. I picked up the bent saxophone.
'I had no idea the Text Sea looked like anything at all,' I said, panting. 'I thought it was just an abstract notion.'
'Oh, it's real, all right,' replied Jack, picking up his hat, 'as real as anything is down here. The LiteraSea is the basis for all prose written in roman script. It's connected to the Searyllic Ocean somewhere but I don't know the details. You know what this means, don't you?'
'That scene-stealers have been at work?'
'It looks more like a deletion to me,' replied Jack grimly, 'excised. The whole kerfuffle. Characters, setting, dialogue, sub-plot and the narrative-turning device regarding the fight-fixing that the writer had pinched from On the Waterfront.'
'Where to?' I asked.
'Probably to another book by the same author.'Jack sighed. 'Kind of proves we won't be long for the Well. It's the next nail in the coffin.'
'Can't we just jump into the next chapter and the discovery of the drug dealer shot dead when the undercover buy goes wrong?'
It would never work,' said Jack, shaking his head. 'Let me see – I wouldn't have known about Hawkins' involvement with Davison's master plan. More importantly, Mickey Finn would have no reason to be killed if he didn't talk to me, so he would have been there to stop the fight before Johnson placed his three-hundred-thousand-pound bet – and the heart-warming scene in the last two pages of the book with the young lad will make no sense unless I meet him here first. Shit. There isn't a holesmith anywhere in the Well who can fill this one. We're finished, Thursday. As soon as the book figures the gym scene has gone the plot will start to spontaneously unravel. We'll have to declare literary insolvency. If we do it quick we might be able to get most of the major parts reassigned to another book.'
'There must be something we can do!'
Jack thought for a moment.
'No, Thursday. It's over. I'm calling it.'
'Hang on,' I said. 'What if we come in again but instead of us both walking up the stairs you start at the top, meet me coming up and explain what you have just found out. We jump straight from there to chapter eight and … you're looking at me a bit oddly.'
'Mary—'
'Thursday. That would make chapter seven only a paragraph long!'
'Better than nothing.'
'Vonnegut does it all the time.' -
He sighed.
'Okay. Lead on, maestro.'
I smiled and we jumped back three pages.
Reading, Tuesday. It had been raining all night and the rain-washed streets reflected the dour sky. Mary was late and she met Jack walking down the stairway from an upstairs gymnasium, his feet ringing on the iron treads.
'Sorry I'm late,' said Mary, 'I had a puncture. Did you meet up with your contact?'
'Y-es,' replied Jack. 'Had you visited the gym – which you haven't, of course – you would have found it a lugubrious place that smells of sweat and dreams, where hopefuls try to spar their way out of Reading's underclass.'
'Who were you seeing?' asked Mary as they walked back to her car.
'Mickey Finn,' replied Jack, 'ex-boxer with scarred eyes and a tremor to match. He told me that Hawkins was involved with Davison's master plan. There is talk of a big shipment coming in on the fifth and he also let slip that he was going to see Jethro – the importance of which I won't understand until later.'
'Anything else?' asked Mary, looking thoughtful.
'No.'
'Are you sure?' 'Yes.'
'Are you SURE you're sure?'
'Er … No, wait. I've just remembered. There was this young kid there up for his first fight. It could make him. Mickey said he was the best he'd ever seen – he could be a contender.'
'Sounds like you had a busy morning,' said Mary, looking up at the grey sky.
'The busiest,' answered Jack, pulling his jacket around his shoulders. 'Come on, I'll buy you lunch.'
The chapter ended and Jack covered his face with his hands and groaned.
'I can't believe I said "the importance of which I won't understand until later". They'll never buy it. It's rubbish!'
'Listen,' I said, 'stop fretting. It'll be fine. We just have to hold the book together long enough to figure out a rescue plan.'
'What have we to lose?' replied Jack with a good measure of stoicism. 'You get up to Jurisfiction and see what you can find out about the Book Inspectorate. I'll hold a few auditions and try to rebuild the scene from memory.'
He paused.
'And Thursday?' 'Yes?'
'Thanks.'
I drove back to the flying boat. Having said I wasn't going to get involved with any internal politics, I was surprised by how much of a kinship with Caversham Heights I was feeling. Admittedly, the book was pretty dreadful, but it was no worse than the average Farquitt – perhaps I felt this way because it was my home.
* * *
'Are we going shopping now?' asked Lola, who had been waiting for me. 'I need something to wear for the BookWorld Awards the week after next.'
'Are you invited?'
'We all are,' she breathed excitedly. 'Apparently the organisers are borrowing a displacement field technology from SF. The long and short of it is that we will all be able to fit in the Starlight Room – it's going to be quite an event!'
'It certainly will,' I said, going upstairs. Lola followed me and watched from my bed as I changed out of Mary's clothes.
'You're quite important at Jurisfiction, aren't you?'
'Not really,' I replied, trying to do up my trouser button and realising that it was tighter than normal.
'Blast!' I said.
'My trousers are too small.'
'Shrunk?'
'No …' I replied, staring into the mirror. There was no doubt about it. I was starting to put on a small amount of girth. I stared at it this way and that and Lola did the same, trying to figure out what I was looking at.
Catalogue shopping from the inside was a lot more fun than I had thought. Lola squeaked with delight at all the clothes on offer and tried about thirty different types of perfume before deciding not to buy any at all – she, in common with nearly all bookpeople, had no sense of smell. Watching her was like letting a child loose in a toy store – and her energy for shopping was almost unbelievable. It was while we were on the lingerie page that she asked me about Randolph.
'What do you think of him?'
'Oh, he's fine,' I replied non-committally, sitting on a chair and thinking of babies while Lola tried on one bra after another, each of which she seemed to love to bits until the next one. 'Why do you ask?'
'Well, I rather like him in a funny kind of way.'
'Does he like you?'
'I'm not sure. I think that's why he ignores me and makes jokes about my weight. Men always do that when they're interested. It's called subtext, Thursday – I'll tell you all about it some day.'
'Okay,' I said slowly, 'so what's the problem?'
'He doesn't really have a lot of, well, charisma.'
'There are lots of men out there, Lola,' I told her. 'Don't hurry. When I was seventeen I had the hots for this complete and utter flake named Darren. My mother disapproved, which made him into something of a magnet.'
'Ah!' said Lola. 'What about this bra?'
'I thought the pink suited you better.'
'Which pink? There were twelve.'
'The sixth pink, just after the tenth black and nineteenth lacy.'
'Okay, let's look at that one again.'
She rummaged through the pile, found what she wanted and said:
'Thursday?'
'Yes?'
'Randolph calls me a tart because I like boys. Do you think that's fair?'
'It's one of the great injustices of life,' I told her. 'If he did the same he'd be toasted as a "ladies' man". But Lola, have you met anyone who you really liked, someone with whom you'd like to spend more exclusive time?'
'You mean – a boyfriend?'
'Yes.'
She paused and looked at herself in the mirror.
'I don't think I'm written that way, Thurs. But you know, sometimes, just afterwards, you know, when there is that really nice moment and I'm in his big strong arms and feeling sleepy and warm and contented, I can feel there is something that I need just outside my grasp – something I want but can't have.'
'You mean love?'
'Hang on, Lola – Thursday speaking.' 17
I looked at Lola, who was trying on a basque.
'Yes,' I replied, 'why?' 18
'The safe side of what?' 19
'I see. What can I do for you apart from answering questions about pianos?' 20
I wasn't busy. Apart from a Jurisfiction session tomorrow at midday, I was clear.
'Sure. Where and when?' 21
'Okay.'
Lola was looking at me mournfully.
'Does this mean we'll have to miss out on the gym? We have to go to the gym – if I don't I'll feel guilty about eating all those cakes.'
'What cakes?'
'The ones I'm going to eat on the way to the gym.'
'I think you get enough exercise, Lola. But we've got half an hour yet – c'mon, I'll buy you a coffee.'
21
Who stole the tarts?
'My first adult foray into the BookWorld had not been without controversy. I had entered Jane Eyre and changed the ending. Originally, Jane goes off to India with the drippy St John Rivers, but in the ending that I engineered, Jane and Rochester married. I made the decision from the heart, which I had not been trained to do but couldn't help myself. Everyone liked the new ending but my actions weren't without criticism. Technically I had committed a fiction infraction, and I would have to face the music. My first hearing in Kafka's The Trial had been inconclusive. The trial before the King and Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland would not be as strange – it would be stranger.'
THURSDAY NEXT – The Jurisfiction Chronicles
The Gryphon was a creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. In his youth he must have been a frightening creature to behold, but in his later years he wore spectacles and a scarf, which somewhat dented his otherwise fearsome appearance.
He was, I was told, one of the finest legal eagles around, and after Snell's death he became head of the Jurisfiction legal team. It was the Gryphon who managed to secure the record pay-out following the celebrated Farmer’s Wife v. Three Blind Mice case and was instrumental in reducing Nemo's piracy charges to 'accidental manslaughter'.
The Gryphon was reading my notes when I arrived and made small and incomprehensible noises as he flicked through the pages, grunting here and there and staring at me over his spectacles with large eyes.
'Well!' he said. 'We should be in for some fun now!'
'Fun?' I repeated. 'Defending a Class II fiction infraction?'
'I'm prosecuting a class action for blindness against the Triffids this afternoon,' said the Gryphon soberly, 'and the Martians' war crimes trial in War of the Worlds just drags on and on. Believe me, a fiction infraction is fun. Do you want to see my case load?'
'No thanks.'
'Okay. We'll see what their witnesses have to say and how Hopkins presents his case. I may decide not to put you on the stand. Please don't do anything stupid like grow – it nearly destroyed Alice's case there and then. And if the Queen orders your head to be cut off, ignore her.'
'Okay.' I sighed. 'Let's get on with it.'
The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their thrones when we arrived, but they were the only people in the courtroom who were seemingly composed – Alice's exit two pages earlier had caused a considerable amount of distress to the jury, who were back in their places but were bickering furiously with the foreman, a rabbit who stared back at them, nibbling a large carrot that he had somehow smuggled in.
The Knave of Hearts was being escorted back to the cells and the tarts – exhibit 'A' – were being taken away and replaced by the original manuscript of Jane Eyre. Seated before the King and Queen was prosecuting attorney Matthew Hopkins and a collection of very severe-looking birds. He glared at me with barely concealed venom. He looked a lot less amused than when we last crossed swords in The Trial, and he hadn't looked particularly amused then. The King was obviously the judge because he wore a large wig, but quite which part the Queen of Hearts was to play in the proceedings, I had no idea.
The twelve jurors calmed down and all started writing busily on their slates.
'What are they doing?' I whispered to the Gryphon. 'The trial hasn't even begun yet!'
'Silence in court!' yelled the White Rabbit in a shrill voice.
'Off with her head!' yelled the Queen.
The King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to find out who had been talking. The Queen nudged him and nodded in my direction.
| i don't know |
Who is the owner of Estimate, the winner of the 2013 Ascot Gold Cup? | Queen celebrates as Estimate wins Gold Cup at Royal Ascot | Daily Mail Online
Watch more on Channel 4 racing
Out in front: Ryan Moore rides Estimate to victory ahead of Simenon in the Gold Cup
Tense finish: Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie get caught up in the moment on Ladies' Day
It was little different, at least in emotion, to the member of a syndicate with a 100th share in a leg of a thoroughbred urging on his nag in the 2.30 at Lingfield.
When later her watching subjects were shown a recording of her reaction squeals of delight echoed around the racecourse. They loved her passion; they loved her joy; most of all, one suspects, they loved her ability to lose just a smidgeon of self-control.
At her side was racing manager John Warren who, frankly, lost it completely in the way he animatedly shouted on the four-year-old filly to its prominent place in racing history.
THE RACING ROYALS: WINNING HORSES
After Estimate became the first royally owned horse to win the Gold Cup at Ascot, here are some more Royal racing moments...
1900 THE PRINCE OF WALES
The future Edward VII had two notable horses this year. Ambush II won the Grand National and Diamond Jubilee won the St Leger, the 2,000 Guineas and the Derby.
1942 KING GEORGE VI
Big Game won the 2,000 Guineas, and Sun Chariot the 1,000 Guineas, the Oaks and the St Leger - the Fillies Triple Crown.
1956 THE QUEEN MOTHER
Devon Loch’s good form looked to be continuing as he entered the final 40 yards of the Grand National with a five-length lead, only to jump and collapse. The Queen Mother said: ‘Oh, that’s racing!’
1977 QUEEN ELIZABETH II
The Queen has had several winners but perhaps the most famous is Dunfermline — the mare won the Oaks and St Leger as The Queen celebrated her Silver Jubilee.
All smiles: Queen Elizabeth II looks overjoyed as she watches Estimate surge to victory
Outside the tinted bullet-proof glass, from the privileged occupants of the Royal Enclosure to the more raucous inhabitants of the Silver Ring and to the picnickers on the Heath, the tens of thousands went pretty much bonkers in their delight.
If ever the collective will of a crowd can push a horse over the line then it did so yesterday.
Jockey supreme Ryan Moore played his part, of course, in holding off the challenge of Johnny Murtagh aboard the Irish trained Simenon and, in the process, probably guaranteeing a future gong.
Willie Mullins, the trainer of the second, said ‘I would loved to have won but it is a fantastic result for racing.’
Party time: Members of the Royal family cheer after the Queen's horse crosses the line
Thumbs up: Moore and Estimate are led away after securing the win at Royal Ascot on Ladies' Day
Frenchman Francois Doumen, who trained the third home, Top Trip, added: ‘It would have been a diplomatic incident if Top Trip had won!’
Victory secured, Her Majesty could be seen standing at the window waving, it appeared, to Moore below. Meanwhile, as many as could negotiate the logistics rushed from trackside to the back of the stands to welcome the winning horse but, more significantly, greet the winning owner.
Less than an hour earlier, warm, genuine and prolonged applause accompanied Lady Cecil as she mounted the podium after Riposte took the Ribblesdale Stakes, as Sir Henry had planned in the months before his death.
THE QUEEN'S DREAM TEAM
SIR MICHAEL STOUTE
The 10-time champion trainer has won 66 races at Royal Ascot as well as 15 British Classics. He was born in Barbados and awarded his knighthood in 1998 for services to tourism in his homeland.
JOCKEY: RYAN MOORE
The 29-year-old son of trainer Gary Moore whose two brothers are both jump jockeys. Single-minded and technically the outstanding Flat jockey currently riding. Would have won more than three championships had injury not intervened.
RACING ADVISER: JOHN WARREN
Self-made son of a greengrocer who has become a hugely respected bloodstock agent and took on the royal role after death of predecessor the Earl of Carnarvon in 2001. Married to the Earl’s daughter Carolyn with whom he runs Highclere Stud.
GROOM: KIRSTY CHOUFFOT
Looks after the day-to-day needs of Estimate, feeding and grooming the filly at Stoute’s stable but it is Michelle Allen who rides out the filly on the gallops. Both were given credit by Stoute for relaxing the Gold Cup winner.
Powerhouse: Estimate led on the home straight and held off the competition to secure the win
‘That was for him, wasn’t it?’ she said, trying to fight off the tears.
The volume was turned up on the arrival of the Queen into the parade ring. That was very much for her. Her Majesty. ‘Your Majesty, we celebrate with you and we share your delight,’ the public address system intoned. And they did.
Everyone except the security men who struggled to part wellwishers in creating a narrow path into the winner’s circle. The Channel 4 cameras kept a respectable distance.
Where to? Two racegoers study the day's racecard as others travel to Ascot by train earlier (below)
There would be no ‘post-match’ one-to-one for Clare Balding, the current Queen of broadcasting and arguably the fourth Lady of the day.The Queen had been scheduled to present the trophy to the triumphant owner. Who would step in? Ms Berry had already done her bit.
Would it be former Ryder Cup captain Sam Torrance, who had been allocated the fifth race? Don’t be silly. In the end, the Queen’s second son, the Duke of York, did the honours, again to a tumultuous reception. Royal Ascot is never going to be able to follow that. It does not really need to.
Earlier, Berry, perhaps auditioning for a part in The Great British They’re Off, revealed that 70 years ago she had owned a pony called Kerry Lass. Her winnings in gymkhanas paid for the horse’s shoes. ‘It was £1 for four in those days,’ she said.
In full force: Princess Beatrice (left) and Pixie Lott looked glamorous as they turned up for the races
Glorious: Moore is beaming as he trots into the paddock as the Queen examines her trophy
But the man from the Racing Post wanted to know why, when making white chocolate muffins, the raspberries inside became very wet.
‘Ah,’ she replied, ‘raspberries do that. Put in some blueberries as well and that will help.’
You don’t just get racing tips at Royal Ascot.
Hell for leather: Moore (right) leads the pack on the home straight as Estimate (below) relaxes afterwards
| Elizabeth II |
The 2008 G8 Summit was held at Lake Tōya. In which country is this? | Queen’s Horse Estimate Wins Royal Ascot Gold Cup - and Place in History [PHOTOS]
Queen’s Horse Estimate Wins Royal Ascot Gold Cup - and Place in History [PHOTOS]
By Hannah Osborne
June 20, 2013 18:57 BST
Queen Elizabeth's horse Estimate has won the Gold Cup at Royal Ascot and a place in the royal history books. It was the first time a runner owned by a monarch won the race in its 207-year history.
The Queen watched from the royal box and pictures show her happy reaction to the win.
The Gold Cup was then given to her by her son Prince Andrew. Her grandson Peter Phillips told Channel 4: "It's amazing. This is her passion and her life and she's here every year and she strives to have winners.
"To win the big one at Royal Ascot means so much to her."
Estimate was ridden by Ryan Moore, who said: "All we had was this race in mind. It's great to ride any winner for the Queen but to do it in the Gold Cup is very special.
"We had a good draw and the pace wasn't mad at the beginning. She relaxed so well over the final furlongs."
Estimate was not a clear winner for most of the race - she was in fifth place as she passed the grandstand for the first time.
Sir Michael Stoute, her trainer, told the BBC that the race was a "tough task" and he had not been confident of a win.
"[Estimate's] preparation had gone well and she was bred to have a big chance of getting the trip but she had to step up to beat these boys," he said.
The Queen has attended Ascot every year since 1945 and has won 21 other races there.
Estimate won the Queen's Vase at Ascot in 2012.
Queen Elizabeth winning the Gold CupReuters
Race was first time a monarch had won the Gold Cup.Reuters
Queen Elizabeth II was presented with the trophy by Prince Andrew.Reuters
Queen Elizabeth's Estimate was in fifth place when she first passed the grandstand.Reuters
Estimate's trainer Sir Michael Stoute said winning for the Queen was a great honourReuters
Queen Elizabeth's reaction to winning Gold CupReuters
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| i don't know |
The band The Fall took their name from a 1956 novel by which French-Algerian author? | BAND NAMES .. ORIGINS
Numbers
10cc
Manager Jonathan King chose the name after having a dream in which he was standing in front of the Hammersmith Odeon in London where the boarding read "10cc The Best Band in the World". A widely repeated claim, disputed by King and Godley, but confirmed in a 1988 interview by Creme, and also on the webpage of Gouldman's current line-up, is that the band name represented a volume of semen that was more than the average amount ejaculated by men, thus emphasising their potency or prowess.
10 SECONDS OF FOREVERS
named after Hawkwind's "10 Seconds of Forever"
10,000 MANIACS
Inspired by the old horror movie called '2000 Maniacs'
101 ERS (the)
The group was named after the squat where they lived together: 101 Walterton Road, Maida Vale, although it was for a time rumoured that they were named for "Room 101", the infamous torture room in George Orwell's novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.
13th FLOOR ELEVATORS (the)
The band's name was developed from a suggestion by drummer John Ike Walton to use the name "Elevators" and Clementine Hall added "13th Floor"
2Be3
French band using English language as a pun ~ meaning To Be Free
23rd TURNOFF (THE)
They took their name from the motorway sign indicating the nearby M6 exit.
3rd STRIKE
Lead singer named his band after the "three strikes, you're out" law.
311
311 is an Omaha police code for indecent exposure. P-Nut and some friends went skinny dipping in a public pool. They were apprehended by police. P-Nut's friendwas arrested, cuffed (naked) and taken home to his parents. He was issued a citation for a code 311 (indecent exposure).
702
Pronounced "Seven-Oh-Two", named after the area code of their hometown of Las Vegas.
801 / THE 801
Taken from the Eno song "The True Wheel", which appears on his 1974 solo album Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy). The refrain of the song - "We are the 801, we are the central shaft"
808 STATE
Took their name from their Roland TR-808 drum machine. ("the 808 state" is a nickname for Hawaii, due to 808 being the telephone area code)
_____________________________________
A
A DAY IN THE LIFE
named after the Beatles song "A Day in the Life". They are now known as Hawthorne Heights.
A DAY TO REMEMBER
This was a phrase came from the band's first drummer Bobby Scruggs' girlfriend, who used the phrase a lot at the bands rehearsals.
A PERFECT CIRCLE aka APC
when asked at a news conference, frontman Maynard Keenan stated that the name " A Perfect Circle" originates from the friendships of the band members, all of them met one another in a way resembling "a perfect circle of friendship"
A WILHELM SCREAM
they named themselves after a sound effect, The Wilhelm scream, which is a frequently-used film and television stock sound effect, first used in 1951 for the film Distant Drums.
A-CADS
according to press releases, their name is a compromise between the band and thier manager Peter Rimmer. Apparently Rimmer was keen to name the group after the Rand Academy of Music, while the group members preferred choice was The Cads, the result being The A-Cads.
A-HA
"a-ha" comes from a title that member Pål Waaktaar thought giving to a song. Morten Harket was looking through Waaktaar's notebook and came across the name "a-ha". He liked it and said, "That's a great name. That's what we should call ourselves". After checking dictionaries in several languages, they found out that a-ha was an international way of expressing recognition, with positive connotations.
A-STUDIO
The band was first called their 'Alma-Ata Studio' after the town Almaty where it was formed. Later, the name was shortened to "A-Studio".
A-TEENS
The 'A' stands for ABBA since they started as a cover band for the group, but the name was changed upon the request from Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson to avoid confusion.
ABC
named after the 1970 number-one hit song by The Jackson 5, "ABC"
ABBA
An acronym for the first names of the band members: Agnetha Fältskog, Björn Ulvaeus, Benny Anderson and Anni-Frid (Frida) Lyngstad.
AC/DC
Guitarists Malcolm and Angus Youngs sister-in-law Sandra reportedly came up with the name when she saw the abbreviation for Alternating Current and Direct Current on the back of a sewing machine. The band didn't realise at the time it was also slang for bi-sexual.
ACE OF BASE
Their first practice studio was in the basement of a car repair shop, and they were the greats of their own basement studio.
ADIEMUS
Creator Karl Jenkins invented the word, unaware at the time that it means "We will draw near" in Latin
AEROSMITH
It was evidently a word Joey Kramer wrote all over his notebooks in high school. Some think they were inspired by the 1925 book "Arrowsmith" by Sinclair Lewis.
AFTER FOREVER
named after Black Sabbath's "After Forever", a track from their third album Master of Reality recorded in 1972
AIDEN
named after a character from the 2002 film The Ring
AIR SUPPLY
5 years prior to the band's signing, Graham Russell saw the name in a dream.
AKB48
Named after Tokyo's area Akihabara (colloquially shortened to Akiba), a mecca for electronics shopping and geeks. The group was formed as theatre-based, to perform at its own theatre at Akihabara on a daily basis, so that fans could always go and see them live.
ALEXISONFIRE
from contortionist stripper, Alexis Fire, which nearly resulted in a lawsuit from the stripper's representatives.
ALICE COOPER
The band were inspired while talking to a spirit named Alice Cooper who came to them when they were using their Ouija Board. After the band split up, Vincent Furnier their lead singer kept the name for his solo act.
ALL TIME LOW
All Time Low When in high school, members Alex Gaskarth, Jack Barakat, Rian Dawson, and Zack Merrick made a list of possible band names, one of which being "All Time Low".
ALICE IN CHAINS
Layne Staley formed a glam metal band Alice N' Chainz (Alice AND Chains) where he used to dress in drag on stage, taking the micky of glam rockers with their big hair etc. When he met up with Jerry Cantrell they formed a new band and eventually after not being able to think of a name decided to call it after Laynes old band but spelt differently .. So the name comes from Layne Staley who once said that "ALICE" represented the frail person, and the "CHAINS" represented the drug addiction. and the music was about "ALICE" breaking free of her "CHAINS", a.k.a. drugs.
BUT inbetween Alice N Chainz and "Alice in Chains" .. Layne used to mock glam rock bands calling them Alice and Chains and Alice In Chains .. so I do think originally it may have been mockery of glam rock or was Alice himself, weak and chained in Wonderland .. his drugs!!
ALL-AMERICAN REJECTS (The)
The names "All-Americans" and "the Rejects" after the Green Day song Reject, were both suggested to the band as names, so they were merged.
ALL CROWS ARE BLACK
Steve Townend took the name from a problem in the logic of confirmation proposed by the German logician Carl Gustav Hempel in the 1940s and known as the Paradox of the Ravens.
ALL TIME LOW
was taken from the lyrics 'and it feels like I'm at an all-time low' from New Found Glory song, "Head on Collision"
ALTER BRIDGE
The name comes from a long-standing bridge near Mark Tremontis childhood home in Detroit, which was often regarded as a boundary to the children in surrounding neighborhoods; beyond it was uncharted territory.
AMAZULU
The name "Amazulu" is taken from the Zulu language word for the Zulu people.
ANAMANAGUCHI
The name came about from a member in one of Peter Berkman's former bands pronouncing gibberish in the style of Jabba the Hutt; The band has also explained it as coming from the members' internships at Armani (Berkman and DeVito), Prada (Warnaar), and Gucci (Silas) while studying fashion at Parsons School of Design
ANBERLIN
band member Stephen Christian has offered the explanations that he planned naming his first daughter Anberlin and that the name was a modification of the phrase "and Berlin" from a list of cities he wanted to visit. The one story that Stephen Christian asserts is true, is that he heard (or misheard) the word in the background noise of the Radiohead song "Everything in Its Right Place", he finally admitted he thought it sounded like 'Anberlin' in the background during the part of the song while Thom Yorke is singing "try to say" about 2:32 into the song.
AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD
Initially the band claimed it to be a line in a Mayan ritual chant, though lead singer Conrad Keely has since admitted the story was a joke.
ANTHRAX
Scott Ian learnt about the virulent bacteria anthrax in biology class at high school, and thought it an awesome name for a band.
AMERICA
Band members met in London; they were all sons of members of the United States Air Force serving in the UK.
ANTIETAM
named after Jethro Tull's "Aqualung"
ARCADE FIRE
Based on a story that singer Win Butler heard as a kid. He was told that an arcade in Exeter had burnt down, killing many youths.
ARCTIC MONKEYS
The name was made up by the guitarist, Jamie Cook, while at school
AREA CODE 615
They took their name from the telephone area code, which at the time covered all of Central and Eastern Tennessee.
ARNOLD CORNS
An early David Bowie band, the name of which was inspired by the Pink Floyd song 'Arnold Layne'.
ART OF NOISE
Named after the 1913 manifesto called The Art of Noises by Italian Futurist Luigi Russolo.
AS I LAY DYING
Named after the 1930 novel As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
ASKING ALEXANDRIA
According to band member, lead singer Danny Worsnop, the name was taken from Alexander the Great.
ASTARTE
named after Astarte the great goddess of fertility, beauty and war; the Phoenician predecessor to the Greek Aphrodite.
ASWAD
the British reggae group, called themselves 'Aswad' knowing it means "Black" in Arabic
at17
named after Janis Ian's song "At Seventeen" released in 1975 from her 7th studio album, Between the Lines
ATAHUALPA YUPANQUI
the most important Argentine folk musician of the 20th century, adopted his stage name as a tribute to two legendary Incan kings, Atahualpa, the last Sapa Inca and Yupanqui, a Sapa Inca and a member of the Hurin dynasty of the Kingdom of Cuzco.
ATLANTICS [The]
They took their name from a local brand of petrol, Atlantic.
ATREYU
Named themselves after a character in 1979 novel The Never Ending Story and the 1984 movie of the same name
AUDIOSLAVE
according to lead guitarist Tom Morello the name supposedly came to singer Chris Cornell in a vision.
AUTOMATIC PILOT
from psychiatric testimony characterizing Dan White's state of mind while killing George Moscone and Harvey Milk
AVENGED SEVENFOLD
The band's name is a reference to the Book of Genesis in the Bible, where Cain is sentenced to live in exile for murdering his brother. God marked him so that none would kill him on account of his sin; the man who dared to kill Cain would suffer "vengeance seven times over"
AXL ROSE
Guns N Roses singer's name is an anagram of oral sex
AZTEC TWO-STEP
Took their name from a line in Lawrence Ferlinghetti's poem 'See It Was Like This When'
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The beehive hairstyle popular in the 1950's was called a B-52.
BACHMAN-TURNER OVERDRIVE
A combination of band members' last names and the trucker's magazine 'Overdrive'.
BACKSTREET BOYS
named after a flea market in Orlando, Florida.
BAD BRAINS
named after The Ramones' song "Bad Brain"
BAD COMPANY
Paul Rodgers did not name his group after the Jeff Bridges film Bad Company as is often quoted. Rodgers himself has said that he took the moniker from a book of Victorian morals that showed a picture of an innocent child looking up at an unsavory character leaning against a lamp post. The caption read "beware of bad company" .
BADFINGER
was derived from "Bad Finger Boogie," the working title of The Beatles' "With a Little Help from My Friends"
BAND (The)
According to guitarist Robbie Robertson, Bob Dylan's backup band resisted all conformity, even naming their ensemble. After landing their own recording contract, record company executives pressed them for a group name, but had to settle for simply "The Band".
BAR-KAYS (The)
Growing out of a local group dubbed the Imperials, they adopted a mutated version of their favorite brand of rum, Bacardi, as their name.
BASTILLE
Took their name from the French "Bastille Day", which date coinsides with lead singer Dan Smith's birthday.
BAUHAUS
They chose the name Bauhaus 1919, a reference to the German Bauhaus art movement and college of the 1920s, because of its "stylistic implications and associations", according to David J. The band also chose to use the same type font used on the Bauhaus college building in Dessau, Germany. They soon dropped the 1919, which was a reference to the first operating year of the art school .
BAY CITY ROLLERS
They blindly stuck a pin on a map. It landed on Bay City, Michigan.
BEASTIE BOYS
According to the documentary, American Punk, Beastie Boys, named their band with two words beginning with B because they were inspired by Bad Brains, also a "BB" band. Also ''Beastie' is an acronym for 'Boys Entering Anarchistic States Toward Internal Excellence'.
BEAUTIFUL SOUTH (The)
an English alternative rock group formed at the end of the 1980s by two former members of Hull group The Housemartins, Paul Heaton and Dave Hemingway. Heaton explained at the time that the name was partly a sarcastic reflection of his own dislike of southern England, and partly an attempt to force macho men to utter the word 'beautiful'
BEATLES
They went by the names Quarrymen and the Silver Beetles a while later, then shortened and mutated that to the Beatles. The original bassist, Stuart Sutcliffe came up with the Beetles in 1960, he was a fan huge of Buddy Holly & the Crickets (crickets-beetles). After which John Lennon is credited with combining Beetles and Beat to come up with the Beatles spelling.
BEE GEES
Although often refers to as the 'Brothers Gibb' therefore the Bee Gees, the band say they took their name from the initials of two friends that helped them out in their early days, Bill Goode and a disc jockey named Bill Gates.
BELLE & SEBASTIAN
from Belle et Sébastien, a children's book by French writer Cécile Aubry, which was later adapted into a TV series
BETTER THAN EZRA
Better Than Ezra got their name when they were starting out in clubs. It is rumoured, they were going on after a band called "Ezra" and when the MC was about to announce them he asked their name... they responded "...we're Better than Ezra"
BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME
The band name was derived from a phrase in Counting Crows' song "Ghost Train". The lyrics say "Fifty Million feet of earth between the buried and me"
BIFFY CLYRO
there are many rumours of the origin of Biffy Clyro's name... one time lead singer, Simon Neil bought a Cliff Richard pen therefore it was a Cliffy Biro, they then changed this to Biffy Clyro. Another theory is that 'Biffy Clyro' were a Welsh tribe. The third rumour is that Biffy Clyro was a former player of the band's football team, Ayr United. They have never confirmed any of these.
BIG BOPPER
Jiles Perry Richardson a disc jockey, called himself 'The Big Bopper' because of his 240 pound frame and a 'bopper' was someone who was really into rock and roll back in the 1950s,
BIG COUNTRY
named after Talking Heads' "The Big Country"; a track from their second album, More Songs About Buildings and Food released in 1978's
BIG DRILL CAR
the band members have claimed in interviews that their name was inspired by the movie Journey to the Center of the Earth.
BIG STAR
One band member was given the idea from a grocery store which he often visited for snacks during recording sessions. One of many Big Star Markets outlets in the Memphis region at the time, it had a logo consisting of a five-pointed star enclosing the words "Big Star"; as well as the store's name, the band used its logo but without the word "Star" to avoid infringing copyright.
BIKINI KILL
the future band members began working together on a fanzine calling it Bikini Kill, and with the addition of former Go Team guitarist Billy Karren, they formed a band of the same name. The actual name was inspired by the 1967 B-movie The Million Eyes of Sumuru.
BILLY TALENT
The band is named after a character in the film Hard Core Logo (although the name in the film and the book by Michael Turner it was adapted from is spelled "Billy Tallent").
BLA TAGET
The Swedish progg-band, that used to go under the name Gunder Hägg, the name of a legendary Swedish runner, but after name conflicts occurred they changed name to Blå Tåget, which was a ride at the amusement park Gröna Lund.
BLACK, CILLA
A reporter for the local paper, while writing a favorable review accidentley called her Cilla Black instead of Cilla White.
BLACK ANGELS [The]
named after Velvet Underground's "The Black Angel's Death Song"
BLACK CROWES [The]
Originally named Mr Crowe's Garden named after Leonard Leslie Brookes children's book Johnny Crow's Garden fairy tale.
BLACK FAG
a wind-up of the band name "Black Flag"
BLACK FLAG
Originally called Panic; the name was suggested by Ginn's brother, artist Raymond Pettibon, who also designed the band's logo. Pettibon stated "If a white flag means surrender, a black flag represents anarchy." Their new name was reminiscent of the anarchist symbol, the insecticide of the same name, and of the British heavy metal band Black Sabbath, one of Ginn's favorite bands. Ginn suggested that he was "comfortable with all the implications of the name". When Adam Ant first played in California, the band Black Flag gave out button badges that read: 'Black Flag kills Ants'.
BLACK METAL
took its name from Venom's second album "Black Metal" released in 1982.
BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB
took their name from Marlon Brando's motorcycle gang in the 1953 film "The Wild One".
BLACK SABBATH
The band Earth were inspired to call their first original song "Black Sabbath" after seeing the 1963 Boris Karloff's horror movie "Black Sabbath" After which they changed their name to Black Sabbath.
BLEACH BOYS (The)
origially called The Fur Coughs, their new name, The Bleach Boys was given to them by the philosopher Simon Critchley, and is a play on The Beach Boys.
BLIMP (THE)
Took their name from a Captain Beefheart song "The Blimp" from his 1969 album, Trout Mask Replica.
BLIND MELON
Bass player Brad Smith's father used this term to refer to some hippies who lived in a commune near his house.
BLINK 182
Blink was the original name decided for the band, however an Irish band of the same name objected after they released demos and an album, so the 3 digit suffix was added; the numbers stand for nothing at all. An internet rumour suggests the 182 is a miscount of how many times Tony Montana (Al Pacino) says the word 'fuck' in the film Scarface.
BLONDE REDHEAD
Named themselves "Blonde Redhead" after a song by the New York no wave band DNA.
BLONDIE
The name derived from comments made by truck drivers who catcalled "Hey, Blondie" to Harry as the band, then called Angel and the Snake, drove by.
BLOOD DUSTER
named after Naked City's "Blood Duster" track on 1999 'Naked City' album
BLOOD ON THE FLOOR
originally called 'Love the Fashion', but while creating their first album vocalist Dahvie Christopher Mongillo came up with the name Blood On The Dance Floor. It is possible he was inspired Michael Jackson's song, "Blood On The Dance Floor".
BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS
Founder Al Kooper came up with the name when on the phone with a promoter, while gazing at a Johnny Cash album cover, Cash's "Blood Sweat & Tears" album. Another version is, the title was chosen by Al Kooper, inspired after a late-night gig in which Kooper played with a bloody hand.
BLUE OCTOBER
The front man of Blue October, Justin Furstenfeld, spent a brief stint in a mental hospital in October 1997. He stated that afterwards he wrote songs to keep depression away which led to the forming of the band.
BLUE ÖYSTER CULT
The name is an anagram of 'Cully's Stout Beer'. But it is said to be combination of a recipe the band's manager read in a book and the band's fascination with the occult. A third source says the band's éminence grise and manager, Sandy Pearlman, named the band after the Blue Point oysters on a local restaurant menu in 1971, but Allen Lanier suggested the addition of the all-important umlaut, over the Ö.
BLUR
The band had been known as "Seymour" until they were signed to Food Records in 1990. The label disliked the band name, the group selected a new one from a provided list, from which they eventually chose "Blur" .
BOB DYLAN
Robert Zimmerman changed his surname to Dylan in honor of Dylan Thomas
BONDED BY BLOOD
took thier name from Exodus' "Bonded by Blood" a track on their debut album Bonded by Blood released in 1984.
BONO (Paul Hewson)
Paul Hewson of U2, was inspired by a hearing aid store in Dublin, Ireland called 'Bono Vox'.
BOO RADLEYS
Their name is taken from the character of Boo Radley in Harper Lee's 1960 novel, To Kill A Mockingbird.
BOOKER T. & THE M.G.'s
M.G. stands for Memphis Group, a band led by keyboard player Booker T. Jones.
BOOM BOOM SATELLITES
named after Sigue Sigue Sputnik's song "Boom Boom Satellite" from their album Dress for Excess
BOOMTOWN RATS
Taken from the gang in Woody Guthrie's 'Bound for Glory' novel.
BOREDOMS
named themselves after Buzzcocks' "Boredom" from the Buzzcocks' 1976/77 "Spiral Scratch" EP.
BORIS
this Japanese experimental rock named themselves after Melvins' "Boris" from their 1991 album Bullhead.
BRAINERD
Original guitarist, Knife, names band after home-town, Brainerd in Minnesota.
BRING ME THE HORIZON
Took their name from a line said by Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, "Now... bring me that horizon".
BUFFALO SPRINGFIELD
The band took their name from a brand of heavy asphalt roller they saw while stuck in Los Angeles traffic
BOYS (The)
The group who were made up of 4 brothers got asked their name by the orginizers of a talent contest they were performing at; nameless at this time, their mother responded with "my boys" and then quickly changed her answer to "The Boys".
BUCKWHEAT ZYDECO
He acquired his nickname as a youth, because, with his braided hair, he looked like the character Buckwheat from Our Gang/The Little Rascals movies and of course Zydeco is a musical genre evolved in southwest Louisiana by French Creole speakers which blends blues, rhythm and blues, and music indigenous to the Louisiana Creoles and the Native people of Louisiana.
BUNNY RUGS
William Clarke explained that nickname came from his grandmother calling him 'Bunny' as a child because he would "jump around the house like a rabbit" and from a member of the Third World road crew calling him 'Rugs' because of his liking for sleeping on the floor.
BURNING AIRLINES
named after Brian Eno's "Burning Airlines Give You So Much More"
BURNING INSIDE
The band named themselves after the Ministry track of the same name
BURY YOUR DEAD
took their name from The Haunted's "Bury Your Dead"
BUTTS BAND
In an early interview ex-Doors member Robby Krieger explained the origin of his band name: "'Butts Band' equalled a bunch of losers desperate for a gig, hence the tattered speaker on the album front cover"
BUZZCOCKS
Howard Devoto and Pete Shelley chose the name "Buzzcocks" after reading the headline, "It's the buzz, cocks!", in a review of the TV series Rock Follies in Time Out magazine. The "buzz" is the excitement of playing on stage; "cock" is Manchester slang meaning "mate", as in friend/buddy. Alternatively, it came from a term "bus cock"; men driving a bus or truck with heavy diesel engines sometimes get an erection because of the vibrations.
BZN
This is short for Band zonder Naam or translated into English, "Band Without a Name"
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C
CANDLEBOX
named after a line from Midnight Oil's "Tin Legs and Tin Mines"... the line 'boxed in like candles'
CANNED HEAT
Alan Wilson and Bob Hite took the name from Tommy Johnson's 1928 "Canned Heat Blues", a song about an alcoholic who had desperately turned to drinking Sterno, often called "canned heat".
CANSEI DE SER SEXY
Portuguese for "tired of being sexy", an alleged quote of Beyoncé Knowles, one of the largest musical influences upon this Brazilian band.
CAPERCAILLIE
The band is named after the Western Capercaillie, sometimes called a wood grouse, a native Scottish bird.
CAPTAIN BEEFHEART
Don Van Vliet had a strange Uncle of who would expose himself, squeeze his penis until the head turned purple, then comment about it looking "like a big ole' beef heart", but Don said on the David Letterman show when questioned about his name, that he had "a beef in my heart against this society".
CASTILES [The]
Bruce Stringsteen's high school band named themselves after the soapbar of the same name.
CHAKA KHAN
Yvette Stevens' African name, Chaka, means "fire".
CHARLIE BROWN JR
The band performed shows in the city without an official name until Chorão crashed his car into a coconut shack that was named "Charlie Brown".
CHARLES, RAY
His actual name is Ray Charles Robinson, but he did not want to be confused with boxer Sugar Ray Robinson, so dropped the Rosinson.
CHEAP TRICK
Allegally they consulted a Ouija board what they should call their band.
CHEMICAL BROTHERS
This name was derived from a song of theirs (while being The Dust Brothers) called "Chemical Beat", which was allegedly inspired by all the drugs in the clubs they played. They had to change names as there was already a "The Dust Brothers" in US.
CHEROKEES
Formed in Melbourne, Australia, they named themselves after a popular icecream of the early 60s.
CHICAGO
They called the band 'Chicago Transit Authority' on their first album, but after the city of Chicago threatened to sue them, they shortened it to Chicago.
CHILLIWACK
They changed their name in 1970 from The Collectors to Chilliwack, a Salish term meaning "going back up" and the name of a city east of Vancouver in the Fraser River valley.
CHIEFTAINS (The)
The band's name came from the book Death of a Chieftain by Irish author John Montague.
CHILDREN OF BODOM.
Named after Lake Bodom in Finland, the location where a triple murder took place, when four teenagers were on a camping trip. 3 were slaughtered, one escaped.
CHRISTIAN DEATH
The name "Christian Death" was a play on words of the fashion designer Christian Dior.
CHROME WAVES
named after Ride's "Chrome Waves"
CHUBBY CHECKER
Dick Clark's wife thought up the name as a take off on Fats Domino.
CHUMBAWAMBA
a band member had a dream.. in which the public toilet signs were labelled "Chumba" and "Wamba" instead of "Men" and "Women" and he didn't know which door to use.
CHVRCHES (The)
They chose the name Chvrches, using a Roman "v" to avoid confusions with actual churches on internet searches. Chvrches have also stated that the band name "has no religious connotation, [they] just thought it sounded cool".
CILLA BLACK
A reporter for the local paper, while writing a favorable review accidentley called her Cilla Black instead of Cilla White.
CIRCLE OF DEAD CHILDREN
Vocalist Joe Horvath has stated that the band name was inspired by a vision of his, where a circle of flags from every country in the world lay on the floor, each bearing a mutilated child from its respective nation.
CLANNAD
The band members were all from a family living in Gweedore in the county of Donegal (N. Ireland). Clannad is an abbreviation of "Clann as Dobhar", which means "the family from Gweedore".
CLASH
Taken from a newspaper headline stating 'A Clash With Police'
CLEAR LIGHT
Clear Light shared its name with a potent form of LSD, although Seal states the name came from his studies of Eastern philosophy.
COBRA MOVEMENT (The)
Named after a short-lived post-WW II art movement that drew together artists from Copenhagen, Brussels and Amsterdam, which used a cobra as its symbol with each of the respective cities representing the head, body and tail of the cobra.
COCO ROBICHEAUX
Curtis Arceneaux took his stage name from a Louisiana legend, in which a naughty child called Coco Robicheaux, is abducted by a werewolf or wendigo.
COCTEAU TWINS
The band was named after the song "The Cocteau Twins" by fellow Scotsmen 'Johnny and the Self-Abusers', who later renamed themselves Simple Minds; the song "The Cocteau Twins" was also re-penned as "No Cure.
COLDPLAY
Chris, Jonny, Will & Guy were called "Starfish" originally and a friend's group was called "Coldplay". When they did not want the name anymore, "Starfish" asked if they could use it instead. The original Coldplay took the name from a book of collected poems.
COLONEL ROBERT MORRIS
In 1998 Robert Morris, received the honorary title of "Colonel aide-de-camp" from Don Sundquist the governor of the state of Tennessee. Since then he was known as Colonel Robert Morris or often just as The Colonel
COLONIA
The name of the group comes from the ancient Latin name of the Croatian town Vinkovci which was "Colonia Aurelia Cibalae".
COLOR ME BADD
The name Color Me Badd represented overcoming racial and musical labels.
COMMODORES
It is reported that one of the group members tossed a dictionary into the air, and when it landed, randomly pointed to a word on the page it opened to. The word was "Commodores".
CON FUNK SHUN
named after New Birth's "Con-Funk-Shun"
CONWAY TWITTY
Looking at a road map, he spotted Conway, Arkansas, and Twitty, Texas. Thus, he went with the professional name of "Conway Twitty".
COOPER, ALICE
The band were inspired while talking to a spirit named Alice Cooper who came to them when they were using their Ouija Board. . After the band split up, Vincent Furnier their lead singer kept the name for his solo act.
COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE (THE)
The band was named after the Cowper-Temple clause. The clause was inserted into the Elementary Education Act 1870, which established compulsory primary education in England and Wales. The clause, a compromise on the matter of funding for denominational schools, was named after its proposer, Liberal MP William Cowper-Temple.
COP SHOT COP
Phil Puleo reports their name was inspired by both the band members' shared dislike of police officers, and a newspaper headline about a botched police raid, reading "'Cop Shot Cop' or maybe it was 'Cop Shoots Cop.'" Another possible explanation for the band's moniker is what is described as a "junkie's to do list:" "cop" (obtain drugs, especially heroin) "shoot" (Inject the drugs)" and "cop" again.
CORNERSHOP
The band name originated from a stereotype referring to British Asians often owning corner shops.
COSTELLO, ELVIS
Declan Patrick McManus combined Elvis Presley's first name with his great grandmother's last name Costello, which his father also performed under as Day Costello.
CRACKOUT
named after 'Brian Krakow', a character in American TV teen drama, "My So-Called Life"
CRASS
A reference to the David Bowie song "Ziggy Stardust"... the line "The kids was just crass".
CREEDANCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL
It is reported the band took their name from Norvel Credence, a friend of band leader John Fogerty, plus John's favorite beer was called Clearwater, which, after it disappeared from the market for a time, was revived by another brewery and the four members' renewed commitment to their band.
CRINGER
Hawaiin band named after a talking cat from the cartoon He-Man.
CHRISMA
the name is made up from the duo's christian names Maurizio Arcieri and his wife Christina Moser. They later changed their name to Krisma.
CROSS-EYED MARY
taken from track 2, "Cross-Eyed Mary" on Jethro Tull's 1971 album Aqualung.
CROWDED HOUSE
This Australian / New Zealand trio chose the name from their cramped living conditions at North Sycamore Street in Los Angeles while working on their debut album.
CRYSTAL FIGHTERS
The group took their name Crystal Fighters from an unfinished opera which Laure Stockley's grandfather had penned during his final months of insanity. She came across the manuscript while clearing out the reclusive old man's remote home in the Basque countryside. She quickly became obsessed by the intriguing scrawls within it and shared it with the others. Captivated by its seemingly prophetic contents, the band took on the name and formed in an attempt to expand upon the wild and deranged spirit of Laure's grandfather's writings.
CURE (The)
The band's original name was Easy Cure, taken from the name of one of the group's early songs. The name was later shortened to The Cure because frontman Robert Smith felt the name was too American and "too hippyish".
CURVED AIR
named after Terry Riley's "A Rainbow in Curved Air"
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D
D. BOON
As a teenager, singer, guitarist Dennes Dale Boon began painting and signed his works "D. Boon", partly because "D" was his slang for cannabis, partly after the American pioneer and hunter Daniel Boone, but mostly because it was similar to E. Bloom, Blue Öyster Cult's vocalist and guitarist.
DALI'S CAR
They took their name from a Captain Beefheart song from his album, Trout Mask Replica.
DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL
Derived from the line in the band's song "The Sharp Hint of New Tears" which is "on the way home, this car hears my confessions/I think tonight I'll take the long way home...".
DAVID & JONATHAN
The duo named themselves after the Biblical characters
DAVID BOWIE
He took his last name from the Bowie knife, which he had a love of, as a child. He first used his given name 'David Jones' but changed it so as not to be confused with Davy Jones of the Monkees
DAYS OF THE NEW
Dead Reckoning changed it's name to Days of the New, but their true name is Days of the New World Order because Travis Meeks, the architect behind the band, intended his music to be both a warning and theme to the days of the new world order.
dB's [the]
As they told us with their debut album in 1981, dB's stands for 'decibels'.
DEACON BLUE
named after Steely Dan's "Deacon Blues" on their album Aja
DEAD CAN DANCE
Brendan Perry was allegedly inspired by the idea of making "animacy out of inanimacy" .. such as making lively music out of the dead wood of instruments.
DEAD KENNEDYS
The name was not meant to insult the assassinated Kennedy brothers, but to quote vocalist Jello Biafra, "to bring attention to the end of the American Dream".
DEAD OR AMERICAN
They took their name, supposedly, based on a dream of Greg Heuer's in which he found himself playing in band of the same name. Shortly after his departure from the band in 2003, the remaining members corrected that story, citing a quote about globalisation in which it was apparently claimed that in 20 years, most cultures will be Dead or American.
DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE
Took its name from a satirical song of the same name, performed by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band on their 1967 album Gorilla and in The Beatles experimental movie, Magical Mystery Tour.
DECEMBERISTS (The)
With reference to the Russian Decembrist Revolt (Explaining their use of the National Anthem of the Soviet Union as an introduction at each concert) and to the atmosphere associated with the month of December
DEEP PURPLE
Taken from the Bing Crosby song "Deep Purple", a favourite song of Ritchie Blackmore's grandmother. (The song was more notably performed by Nino Tempo & April Stevens)
DEF LEPPARD
Supposedly inspired by a drawing Joe Elliot made of a leopard with no ears.
DEFTONES
The name "Deftones" was created by Stephen Carpenter, who wanted to pick "something that would just stand out but you know, not be all cheese-ball at the same time". He combined the hip hop slang term "def," which was used by artists such as LL Cool J and Public Enemy, with the suffix "-tones," which was a popular suffix among 1950s bands such as Dick Dale and the Del-Tones, The Quin-Tones, The Monotones, The Cleftones and The Harptones. Carpenter said the name is intentionally vague to reflect the band's tendency to not focus on just one style of music.
DEL AMITRI
Scottish alternative rock band (19832002, 2013pres) The band has repeatedly stated the story on their official website that Del Amitri "Started at school in 1980, originally called Del Amitri Rialzo in order to confuse the public". The name was invented for its meaninglessness; they say all other stories are fabrications.
DEL-SATINS
They chose the name Del-Satins as a tribute to the groups, The Dells and The Five Satins.
DEMONS AND WIZARDS
The original goal of the band was to forge the different musical styles of both Iced Earth's dark melodies and Blind Guardian's powerful vocals into one sound. In fact, according to the musicians, the band name is meant to describe the two styles: the self-proclaimed demon-like themes and sounds of Iced Earth and wizard-like themes and sounds of Blind Guardian. The moniker "Demons & Wizards" was inspired by Schaffer's wife always referring to him and Hansi as "Demons and Angels". Hansi always corrected her, since he claims to "not be at all angelic", and that it is more properly stated "Demons and Wizards", in reference to Uriah Heep's album of the same name.
DENVER, JOHN
A tribute to the Rocky Mountain area, an area John Henry Deutschendorf cherished.
DEPECHE MODE
The name was taken from a French fashion magazine, "Dépêche mode", which translates to "Fashion Update" or "Fashion News Dispatch" (dépêche = dispatch) though it has commonly been mistranslated as "Fast Fashion", due to the confusion with the French verb "se dépêcher" ("to hurry up").
DEREK AND THE DOMINOS
The name "Derek and the Dominos" was a fluke. It occurred when the band's provisional name of "Del and the Dynamos" was misread as Derek and the Dominos. Eric Clapton's biography also states that Tony Ashton told Eric to call the band "Del and the Dominos", since "Del" was his nickname for Eric Clapton. Del and Eric were combined and the final name became "Derek and the Dominos"
DESTINY'S CHILD
Started as Destiny, that name was taken. Beyonce's mother found a picture of the four girls in a family bible. The picture had "Child" written on it.
DEVIL'S BLOOD (The)
The group's name is taken after the song "Devil's Blood" by the Swedish black-metal band Watain
DEVO
The name comes "from their concept of 'de-evolution' the idea that instead of continuing to evolve, mankind has actually begun to regress, as evidenced by the dysfunction and herd mentality of American society". In the late 1960s, this idea was developed as a joke by Kent State University art students Gerald Casale and Bob Lewis, who created a number of satirical art pieces in a devolution vein.
DEXIE'S MIDNIGHT RUNNERS
A drug the band was reputedly fond of ... Dexedrim.
DIAMOND HEAD
The name "Diamond Head" came from a Phil Manzanera album, that Brian Tatler had a poster of in his room.
DIDO
Florian Armstrong's name derives from that of the mythical Queen of Carthage, or by ancient Greek and Roman sources, the founder and first Queen of Carthage.
DIRE STRAITS
It describes the financial situation of the band in the early days.
DIRTY MONEY
Diddy explained in an interview with Spin magazine: "... I came up with Dirty Money back in 2005 when we were in a strip club in Jacksonville, Florida, during the Superbowl. People heard I was there, and all of a sudden so many people came in that I had to rush outside to my truck. I was sitting there with a bunch of money and I was like, 'Damn, this is some dirty money'. A light bulb went off that day".
DISTURBED
When asked in an interview why he suggested to name the band "Disturbed," lead singer David Draiman said, "It had been a name I have been contemplating for a band for years. It just seems to symbolize everything we were feeling at the time. The level of conformity that people are forced into was disturbing to us and we were just trying to push the envelope and the name just sorta made sense".
DIZZY MIZZ LIZZY
named after Larry Williams' "Dizzy Miss Lizzy"
DOBIE GRAY
In the early 1960s, Stripe Records in L.A. suggested to Lawrence Brown he should record under the name "Dobie Gray", an allusion to the then-popular sitcom The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis
DOOBIE BROTHERS
Original band name was Pud, changing it to Doobie which is slang for a marijuana joint.
DOORS [The]
Originally called the Psychedelic Rangers, the Doors took its name from the title of Aldous Huxley's book The Doors of Perception, which itself was a reference to a William Blake quote: "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite"
DOVETAIL JOINT
named after a line in The Beatles' "Glass Onion"... the line 'Trying to make a dovetail joint, yeah'
DREAM THEATRE
Named after a movie house in Monterey, California. The name was suggested by drummer Mike Portnoy's father, who lived in Monterey
DUCK HUNT
The band named themselves after the NES game, Duck Hunt, before changing their name to Failsafe.
DUMDUM BOYS
named themselves after Iggy Pop's "Dum Dum Boys"
DUM DUM GIRLS
after Iggy Pop's "Dum Dum Boys" as well as The Vaselines album "Dum Dum"
DURAN DURAN
A villan in the 1967 Jane Fonda movie 'Barbarella'.
DUST BROTHERS [The]
Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons called themselves The Dust Brothers, paying homage to the American production duo famous for their work with the Beastie Boys.
DYLAN, BOB
Robert Zimmerman changed his surname to Dylan in honor of Dylan Thomas ________________________________________
E
E NOMINE
Christian Weller and Friedrich "Fritz" Graner named their project from the Latin In Nomine, "In The Name Of".
E STREET BAND
Bruce Springsteen's band was named after E Street (not East) in Belmar, New Jersey, because the band used to practice at the E Street home of pianist David Sancious' mother
EAGLES
The band was hugely influences by the Byrds, they all wanted an American sounding name, Henley wanted something Native American, Eagles was born fitting all 3 needs.
EARTH, WIND & FIRE
The band's name reflects the elements in Maurice White's astrological chart.
ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN
Widely thought Echo was the name of the drum machine used in their early demos. They must have made this story up or used it as a nickname for the DM, as there is no such drum machine.
EDSELS
The name of the group was originally The Essos, after the oil company, but was changed to match the then-new Ford automobile, the Edsel.
ELBOW
They changed their name from Soft, to Elbow, inspired by a line in the BBC TV drama The Singing Detective in which the character Philip Marlow describes the word "elbow" as the loveliest word in the English language.
ELLA GURU
named after Captain Beefheart's "Ella Guru"
ELTON HERCULES JOHN
Reginald Dwight took his stage name from two other British musicians, saxophone player Elton Dean and Long John Baldry. His middle name is from the horse out of the British TV series "Steptoe & Son" which he enjoyed.
ELVIS COSTELLO
Declan Patrick McManus combined Elvis Presley's first name with his great grandmother's last name Costello, which his father also performed under as Day Costello.
EMERSON DRIVE
Originally 12-Gauge, renamed itself Emerson Drive, after the Emerson Trail, which crosses western Alberta and joins the Alaskan Highway.
EMF
The initials officially stood for "Epsom Mad Funkers", but it is widely speculated that the initials instead represented "Ecstasy Mind Fuckers", some say "Ecstasy Mother Fuckers", "English Mother Fuckers," and even "Every Mother's Favourite"!
EMINEM
His real name is Marshall Bruce Mathers III, he took the "M-and-M" and rewrote it as Eminem.
ENGELBERT HUMPERDINCK
Manager, Gordon Mills, convinced Gerry Dorsey that an audience would never forget the name "Englebert Humperdinck", the name of the Austrian composer who wrote "Hansel and Gretel".
EPSILON MINUS
The name "Epsilon Minus" is a reference to Aldous Huxley's novel, Brave New World.
ERIC'S TRIP
named after Sonic Youth's "Eric's Trip"
EURYTHMICS
a method of music instruction from the 1890's which emphasizes physical response to the music.
EVANESCENCE
When asked where they got their name, they responded, "The dictionary". They apparently disliked their previous names Childish Intentions and Stricken, and wanted something better. They also wanted to do some artwork, with whatever name they chose, and decided to look under E. They liked the word and definition of Evanescence, likening it to the temporal nature of life.
EVERYTHING BUT THE GIRL
an advert slogan for a British bedroom furniture store that could sell you "Everything but the Girl"
EXTREME
Originally Dream, but this name was taken. They thought of ex-Dream, then settled for Extreme.
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F
FAIR TO MIDLAND
According to the band's official website, their name comes from "...an old Texan play on the term 'fair to middling'."
FAIRPORT CONVENTION
As young musicians in the mid 60s, they used to 'convene' for rehearsals at a house named Fairport, the family home of rhythm guitarist Simon Nicol, in Muswell Hill; thus, was born the name of the band.
FAITH NO MORE
The band was originally called Sharp Young Men, but changed to Faith No Man when their front man was Mike 'The Man' Morris. After he left, 'The Man' was no more, so they switched to Faith No More. (Some have said the name came from a horse or dog on a betting slip).
FALL (The)
English post-punk band formed in Prestwich, Greater Manchester (1976-pres) bassist Tony Friel came up with the name "The Fall" after a 1956 novel by Albert Camus.
FALL OUT BOY
The band was nameless for their first two shows. At the end of their second show, they asked the audience to yell out their ideas for a name. One audience member suggested "Fallout Boy", a reference to the sidekick of the Simpsons cartoon character Radioactive Man. For copyright reasons, to avoid being sued, they separated Fall and Out to make it Fall Out Boy.
FAMILY
Record producer Kim Fowley suggested they call themselves "The Family" as they regularly wore double-breasted suits in performances, giving themselves a mafia appearance, a look they soon abandoned in favour a more casual dress code.
FASTBALL
Originally called "Magneto" until learning of a Mexican Boy Band of the same name, they first attempted to use the name "Magneto USA," but were ultimately advised against it. The band eventually settled on "Fastball" in reference to a "baseball-themed porn movie".
FEEDBACK
Later to become known as U2. As very young teenagers they called their band "Feedback" as that was the only technical term they knew back in those days (and maybe there was plenty of it at that young age when learning their skills!!)
FEELIES [The]
The name is taken from Aldous Huxleys novel Brave New World, in which the feelies were the equivalent of the movies.
FLEETWOOD MAC
Taken from Mick Fleetwood's surname, with the 'Mac' coming from John McVie.
FLOWERPOT MEN [The]
Psychedelic-era puns on flower power and "pot" (cannabis).
FLYING BURRITO BROTHERS [the]
The group borrowed their name from an East Coast-based group of the same name who had been colleagues of Gram Parsons' previous band, the International Submarine Band.
FINE YOUNG CANNIBALS
Inspired by the movie "All The Fine Young Cannibals"
FIREBALLS [The]
Sometimes billed as Jimmy Gilmer and the Fireballs, they took their name from Jerry Lee Lewis's "Great Balls of Fire".
FIREHOUSE
named after Kiss's "Firehouse"
FIVE IRON FRENZY
According to bassist Keith Hoerig: "We got the name from a roommate of ours. He was kind of paranoid, and afraid that if he went outside on this particular night he was going to get jumped by some people. He had a golf club to defend himself and he said something to the effect of it being like "putter mayhem". Scott looked at the golf club he was holding, and noting that it was a five iron said, "No, more like a Five Iron Frenzy" The name stuck."
FLESH OF LULU
They took their name from an American cult movie.
FLORENCE & THE MACHINE
The name of Florence and the Machine is attributed to front-woman Florence Welch's teenage collaboration with keyboardist and co-writer Isabella "Machine" Summers. Welch and Summers performed together for a time under the name Florence Robot/Isa Machine. Later, this was shortened to Florence and the Machine as it was felt to be too cumbersome.
FOGHAT
Singer Dave Peverett and his brother invented the word in a game of Scrabble.
FOO FIGHTERS
David Grohl was fascinated by sci-fi and the Roswell incident. He named his new project after a slang expression used in World War II by US pilots to describe the alien-looking fireballs they sometimes saw over Germany. Foo is a mutation of the French word for fire, "fue".
FOREIGNER
British guitarist Mick Jones started the band in New York, US. Being a foreigner over there, that became the band name.
FOSTER THE PEOPLE
Originally called "Foster & the People" by frontman Mark Foster, but changed when many of his friends misunderstood the name as "Foster the People". In a 2011 interview, Foster also recalled, "'Foster the People' that's like 'Take Care of the People'.
FOTHERINGAY
The band drew its name from x-Fairport Convention Sandy Denny's 1968 composition "Fotheringay" about Fotheringhay Castle, in which Mary, Queen of Scots had been imprisoned. The song originally appeared on the 1969 Fairport Convention album, What We Did on Our Holidays, Denny's first album with her x-band.
FOUNDATIONS
Taken from the surroundings where the band first started practicing, down in the basement of a large business building.
FOUR SEASONS [the]
Originally the Varietones, when they got turned at an auditioned to appear at a local bowling alley, they adopted the name of the place "The Four Seasons"
FRANKIE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD
On the B-side to the group's first single, Holly Johnson explained that the group's name derived from a page from The New Yorker magazine, featuring the headline "Frankie Goes Hollywood" and a picture of Frank Sinatra, although the magazine page Holly referred to was actually a pop art poster by Guy Peellaert.
FRANK ALAMO
Executive Eddie Barclay signed Jean-François Grandin to his label and persuaded him to take the stage name Frank Alamo, the surname being in tribute to John Wayne's film The Alamo.
FRANZ FERDINAND
A rock band from Glasgow named after the Archduke of Austria whose assassination in Sarajevo in 1914 sparked off the First World War.
FREE
"The Founding Father of British Blues", Alexis Korner, gave the band their name; maybe named after his early blues band " Free At Last".
FRIENDLY FIRES
The name Friendly Fires originates from the opening track of the Section 25 LP Always Now.
FRUMIOUS BANDERSNATCH
The band was named after a character from the Lewis Carroll poem "Jabberwocky".
FUCK THE FACTS
named after Naked City's "Fuck the Facts" track on their 1999 'Naked City' album
FUGEES
Three band members' parents were refugees / evacuees; also their label is called Refugee Camp.
FULL DEVIL JACKET
There are two stories on how the band got its name. One is that the band was named after a song written by lead singer Josh Brown, called Full Devil Jacket, and the other story is that the band simply pulled the name from a magazine article.
FUNERAL FOR A FRIEND
named after Planes Mistaken for Stars's "Funeral for a Friend", although some believe it's after Elton John's "Love Lies Bleeding (Funeral for a Friend).
FURTHER
Rock band founded in 2009 by former Grateful Dead members Bob Weir and Phil Lesh, who named their band after the famous touring bus used by Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters in the 1960s.
FUTUREHEADS (the)
Their name comes from the title of The Flaming Lips 5th album, 'Hit to Death in the Future Head'.
FUZZBOX / WE'VE GOT A FUZZBOX AND WE'RE GONNA USE IT
The band's name was shortened to Fuzzbox for the U.S. release of their first album. Their name was chosen after they bought a distortion pedal for their guitars and Maggie Dunne stated "We've got a fuzzbox and we're gonna use it!".
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G
GANG OR FOUR
"Gang of Four" refers to the "big four" Structuralist theorists: Claude Lévi-Strauss, Roland Barthes, Michel Foucault, and Jacques Lacan, not to be confused with the Maoist Gang of Four in China.
GARBAGE
Lead singer Shirley Manson's father yelled down to the band at one of their basement practice sessions, "Play more quietly - you sound like garbage." and a friend of drummer Butch Vig, said "This stuff sounds like garbage!"
GARY U.S. BONDS
For his first hit, "New Orleans", attention was brought to the record by having promotional copies sent to radio stations in sleeves inscribed "Buy U.S. Bonds" - hence at age 19, Gary Anderson became Gary U.S. Bonds.
GENE VINCENT & THE BLUE CAPS
The Blue Caps were named after the hat President Eisenhower wore to play golf.
GENESIS
From the first book in the Bible, their first album's title was "From Genesis to Revelation"
GEORGIA WONDER
This was the stage name of Lulu Hurst, a 'magnetic phenomenon' whose vaudeville act toured America in the late 19th Century. Stephanie Grant and Julian Moore from the band chose the name after trying to duplicate these powers from an exposé they discovered in a book about the period.
GET UP KIDS [The]
name came from the lyric "Suburban Get Up Kids" by The Cure. Singer Matt Pryor's previous bands all had names that began with S, so they dropped the 'Suburban.' More important, they thought they'd sell more albums in the "G" section of the record store than the overcrowded "S"'s.
GIGOLO AUNTS
named after Syd Barrett's "Gigolo Aunt" from his 1970 album, Barrett.
GILBERT O'SULLIVAN
Manager Gordon Mills found a clever name for his newfound talent. Playing off Ray O'Sullivan's last name and the playwriting team of Gilbert and Sullivan, the name Gilbert O'Sullivan seemed a natural choice.
GIN BLOSSOMS
The band got the idea from the famous old photograph of Fields and his big ol gin-blossomed nose that appears in Kenneth Angers book, "Hollywood Babylon II," with a caption describing Fields "terminal case of gin blossoms".
GINGER FISH
Drummer Kenneth Wilson, like Marilyn Manson, he combined the names of an iconic beauty with a serial killer, his name combines those of Ginger Rogers and Albert Fish.
GLASS ONION
The band Travis originally named themselves Glass Onions after a Beatles song, before naming themselves after the main character in the film "Paris, Texas"
GO KART MOZART
Took their name from a line in Bruce Springsteen's 'Blinded by the Light'.
GODSMACK
With Alice in Chains being a primary influence upon Godsmack, it is speculated that the band got their name from Alice in Chains 1992 song of the same name. Lead singer Sully Erna, stated "Where we picked the name from, I was making fun of somebody who had a cold sore on his lip, the next day I had one myself and somebody said, 'It's a godsmack.' and the name stuck". However, bassist Robbie Merril, in the home video DVD 'Smack This' stated "we stole it from Alice in Chains".
GODSPEED YOU! BLACK EMPEROR (aka "Godspeed", or abbreviated to GYBE or GY!BE)
The band took its name from God Speed You! Black Emperor, a 1976 Japanese black-and-white documentary by director Mitsuo Yanagimachi, which follows the exploits of a Japanese biker gang, the Black Emperors.
GOLDTRIX
The duo's name, Goldtrix, is a play on their names... Daniel Goldstein and Matrix.
GOLDEN EARRING
The Golden Earrings was taken from a song called Golden Earrings performed by the British group The Hunters, for whom they served as an opening and closing act.
GOLDFINGER
naturally after the James Bond movie.
GOO GOO DOLLS
When they were told that local newspapers wouldn't print their original name, Sex Maggots, it is said Jonny Rzeznik picked up a magazine from the early 60's with an ad for a doll that cried Goo Goo when you turned it upside down. Others have said a radio station held contest asking listeners to pick a name for them. When nothing but goo goo was received, so they just decided Goo Goo Dolls would be their name.
GOOD CHARLOTTE
They took their name from a children's book, which the identical twin brothers Joel (lead vocals and guitar) and Benji Madden (lead guitar and backing vocals) used to read when little, called "Good Charlotte: The Girls of Good Day Orphanage" by Carol Beach York.
GORMERS [the]
Their name was taken from a television character in The Andy Griffith Show, Gomer Pyle .
GORKY'S ZYGOTIC MYNCI
After struggling to come up with a name, they decided "we might as well stick with the most ridiculous crap name we could think of... Gorky's came from the word "gawky"; John Lawrence says that "gork" was school slang for a dimwit, Zygotic was "hijacked from GCSE biology"; it's derived from the word zygote, meaning a fertilized egg cell and Mynci is a spelling of the word "monkey" using Welsh spelling rules, rather than a direct Welsh translation, and is pronounced like "monkey".
GRAMERCY FIVE
Artie Shaw fashioned a small group from within his big band and named it the Gramercy Five after his home telephone exchange
GRATEFUL DEAD
Refers to a variety of themed Old English folk tales; eg. a traveler enters a village and finds the villagers refusing to bury the body of a dead man because he died owing creditors money. The traveler pays the dead man's debts and sees to a decent burial. Later in his travels, the man is saved by a mysterious event, which is credited to the dead man's grateful spirit.
GREASE BAND (The)
The Grease Band was named after Joe Cocker read an interview with jazz keyboardist Jimmy Smith, where Smith positively described another musician as "having a lot of grease".
GREEN DAY
A few of probabilities: 1) When the band members dropped out of school to work on the band, their principal said "it'll be a green day in hell before you make anything of yourselves". 2) When you smoked pot and chilled all day, that is a "Green Day". The lads used to skip school and do this. 3) A there was a sign in the movie "Soilent Green" stating Green Day.
GREEN JELLY
They were originally called Green Jello, but were sued by makers of Jello gelatine for using their brand name.
GROUNDHOGS (The)
The Groundhogs was originally formed as The Dollar Bills, Tony McPhee steered them towards the blues and renamed them after a John Lee Hooker song, "Groundhog's Blues".
GUESS WHO?
When the musician's producer hear their rendition of "Shakin' All Over", he feared that it would be lost in the flood of British records and came up with a plan .. A number of promotional copies were pressed with just a plain white label, the song title and the words 'Guess Who?', implying that the disc may have been cut
someone famous.
GUNDER HAGG
They named their progg-band after the legendary Swedish runner, but after name conflicts occurred they changed name to Blå Tåget, which was a ride at the amusement park Gröna Lund.
GUNNAR JÖKULL HAKONARSON
The name came from a book that drummer Ken Pustelnik had read about fighting monks.
GUNNER'S DAUGHTER
Named after the punishment of Royal Navy boys, the caning administered to boys on the bare posterior, usually while "kissing the gunner's daughter" (bending over a gun barrel).
GUNS 'N' ROSES
Combination of Axl Rose and Tracii Guns' names, also it's a combination of LA Guns and Hollywood Roses when they merged.
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H
H-TOWN
They took the name of the group, "H-Town," from the local nickname for the city of Houston, Texas.
HANSON BROTHERS
named after the goofy and rough hockey playing brothers in the Paul Newman movie "Slapshot"
HARD-FI
"Hard-Fi" is the name given to the sound produced by Lee "Scratch" Perry, a Grammy award-winning reggae and dub artist, at his Black Ark recording studio. Being admirers of Perry's work, the band decided to name themselves after his distinctive sound.
HAWKWIND
Nik Turner looked like a hawk and farted a lot
HEAD LIKE A HOLE
named after Nine Inch Nails' "Head Like A Hole", a 1990 hit single from the group's debut album Pretty Hate Machine in 1989.
HEAVEN 17
Took their name from a fictional pop group mentioned in Anthony Burgess's novel A Clockwork Orange, where 'The Heaven Seventeen' are at number 4 in the charts with "Inside".
HEAVY METAL KIDS
They took their name from a gang of street kids, featured in the novel Nova Express by William S. Burroughs.
HEDGEHOPPERS ANONYMOUS
Apart from Alan Laud, the band members were Royal Air Force personnel based at RAF Wittering, near Peterborough, England; Hedgehoppers is RAF slang for low-flying planes.
HELLO GOODBYE
named after The Beatles' 1967's ' "Hello, Goodbye"
HEPTONES [The]
The name was chosen by group member Earl Morgan after seeing a Heptones Tonic bottle lying in a pile of refuse.
HERMAN'S HERMITS
Peter Noone resemblance to the character Sherman in the TV cartoon 'The Bullwinkle Show', but he misheard the name as Herman. Soon after, the band changed their name to Herman and The Hermits, very soon became abbreviated to Herman's Hermits.
HIGH INERGY
Fashioned after Martha and the Vandellas and The Supremes, Berry Gordy named them after the 1976 Supremes High Energy album with just the 'e' changed to an 'i' in "energy".
HILLTOPPERS [The]
They took their name from the nickname of the Western Kentucky athletic teams.
HIT THE LIGHTS
named after Metallica's "Hit the Lights" from their 1983 the debut studio album Kill 'Em All.
HOLE
Courtneys mother, who in a phone conversation with her daughter apparently said: 'Courtney, you can't go through life with a big hole inside you, just because you had a bad childhood.'
HOLLIES [The]
Not in homage to Buddy Holly, as rumored. They chose the name from some Christmas holly decorating Graham Nash's house.
HOLLOWAYS [The]
Named after the road where three of the band members met at the live music venue Nambucca on Holloway Road in North London. They would meet later to jam together, playing in future drummer Dave Danger's room, situated above the club on Holloway Road.
HOLLYWOOD VAMPIRES
The band name derives from The Hollywood Vampires, a celebrity drinking club formed by Alice Cooper in the 1970s
HONEY CONE
Eddie Holland of Holland-Dozier-Holland, named the act "Honey Cone" for a favorite flavor of ice cream.
HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH
Chosen from school friends' nicknames; Hootie had owl like eyes. The other had puffed up cheeks that they called Blowfish.
HUES CORPORATION [The]
Inspired by Howard Hughes and his empire, but when their manager Wally Holmes went to a lawyer, he said 'you can't spell it that way'. So Holmes came up with "Hues".
HUNTERS & COLLECTORS
named after German band Can's "Hunters and Collectors" from their 1975 Landed album
HUSKER DU
Inspired by 'Husker Du?', a Scandinavian young children's memory game. The name of the game is spelled with macrons (- over the U's). The Minneapolis punk rock band Hüsker Dü, replaced the macrons with umlauts (maybe inspired by heavy metal umlauts).
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I
I AGAINST I
comes from the American hardcore punk band, Bad Brains' album, I Against I, released in November 1986
ICE NINE KILLS
Taken from the Kurt Vonnegut book Cat's Cradle (1963), in which the author describes how a quantity of water immediately freezes when one drop of ice-nine is added.
IDLEWILD
Scottish indie rock band from Edinburgh (19952010, 2013pres) named themselves after the quiet meeting place in Anne of Green Gables, a best-selling novel by Lucy Maud Montgomery.
IGGY POP & THE STOOGES
Iguana and Iggy were nicknames since childhood. Pop was inspired by Jim Popp, a local junkie. The Stooges were originally the PSYCHEDELIC STOOGES.. which combined their love of drugs with "The Three Stooges".
INSANE CLOWN POSSE
Joe Bruce and Joey Utsler aka Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope originally part of "Inner City Posse" despite being from Oak Part, MI. a wannabe gang and rap group. The official story is that Violent J had a dream where the Dark Carnival visited him and thus the 2 became clowns and changed their name. Rumor has it that they were targets for their tagging from other real gangs and they changed it to avoid getting beaten up or killed.
IN FEAR AND FAITH
named after Circa Survive's "In Fear And Faith" released in 2006.
INTERPOL
There is confusion about origin of the name Interpol. An article in SPIN magazine said one of Paul Banks' classmates was fond of teasing him by saying "Paul, Paul, Interpol." Yet guitarist Kessler has said the band "...had played shows with no name, and then I got to the point where I was like, 'Guys, we're getting decent crowds, but like... we don't have a name so no one knows who to go see again.'" They considered Las Armas and The French Letters as names before adopting Interpol. They also famously performed a little publicized show at the Luna Lounge in New York under the pseudonym Cuddleworthy. (Interpol is an acronym for International Police Force, the world police organization)
INXS
The 3 Farriss brothers hoped their music would be "In Excess", and spelt it INXS
IRON MAIDEN
Steve Harris got the band name from a film of The Man in the Iron Mask. The "Iron Maiden" was a metal coffin with spikes running outside it that could be inserted inside. The occupant was than impaled and presumably killed..
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The initials "J.B." had no specific meaning, his given name was simply "JB"
J. BLACKFOOT
John Colbert was generally known as "J" or "Jay", he acquired the nickname "Blackfoot" as a child, for his habit of walking barefoot on the tarred sidewalks of Memphis.
JACK OFF JILL
Originally Jack & Jill, Marilyn Manson inspired the name change to Jack off Jill.
THE JAGGERZ
While on location for a photo shoot in the woods, the band noticed that little briars were sticking to their clothing. They found out these briars were locally, in the Pittsburgh area, known as "jaggerz".
JEFFERSON AIRPLANE
Inspired by the blues player Blind Lemon Jefferson and the name of a friend's dog. A jefferson airplane is a split matchstick end or other device to hold your splif in to get that last drag.
JESUS AND MARY CHAIN (The)
Scottish alternative rock band formed in East Kilbride (19831999, 2007pres) Originally called The Poppy Seeds and then Death of Joey, they initially told journalists that they had taken their eventual name from a line in a Bing Crosby film, but six months later they admitted that this wasn't true. Other accounts suggest that the name derived from an offer on a breakfast cereal packet, where customers could send off for a gold Jesus & Mary chain.
JET
named after the Paul McCartney & Wings number "Jet" on their 1974 album Band on the Run.
JETHRO TULL
Jethro Tull was a 1800's British farmer in the who invented a type of plough. The band used to change their name frequently, found Jethro Tull luckier than the rest.
JIMMY EAT WORLD
The band's name came from a crayon drawing made after an incident between Linton's younger brothers, Jim and Ed, who fought frequently. Jim usually won, but Ed sought revenge by drawing a picture of Jim shoving the Earth into his mouth; the picture bore the caption "Jimmy eat world".
JJ CALE
Elmer Valentine, co-owner of the Sunset Strip nightclub Whisky a Go Go, who employed John Weldon Cale in the mid-1960s, was the one that came up with the "JJ" moniker to avoid confusion with the Velvet Underground's John Cale.
JOHN DENVER
A tribute to the Rocky Mountain area, an area John Henry Deutschendorf cherished.
JOHN, ELTON HERCULES
Reginald Dwight took his stage name from two other British musicians, Elton Dean and Long John Baldry. His middle name is from the horse out of the TV series "Steptoe & Son" which he enjoyed.
JOHNNY CHRIST
Jonathan Lewis Seward used to write only Johnny on his autographs until Zacky came up with the name 'Johnny Christ', and in All Excess he said 'It sounded kind of ballsy and it would piss some people off....so everyone's going to hate that'.
JOHNNY ROTTEN
Named after his rotten teeth
JOHNNY SEVEN
The band is named the Johnny Seven O.M.A./One Man Army, a multi-function toy weapon the best selling boys' toy of 1964
JOY DIVISION
From a sado-masochistic novel 'The House of Dolls' by Karol Cetinsky. Joy Divisions were lines of huts in which women were kept as sex slaves and forced to prostitute themselves to Nazi officers and German troops..
JUAN GABRIEL
Alberto Valadez started to use the pseudonym... Juan, in honor of volleyball player Juan Contreras; and Gabriel, in honor of his own father.
JUDAS PRIEST
named after Bob Dylan's "The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest", also this was originally a mild curse said to avoid saying "Jesus Christ"!
JUDGE DREAD
Guitarist/vocalist James Dean Bradfield was inspired by a manic street-preaching tramp.
MARCELS [The]
named after a popular hair style of the era, the marcel wave, by Fred Johnson's younger sister Priscilla.
MARKED [The]
named for the conspicuous birthmarks of both frontman Billy Corgan and drummer Ron Roesing.
MARILLION
Inspired by J.R.R. Tolkein's book 'Silmarillion' but modified it to avoid copyright problems.
MARILYN MANSON
Brian Warner combined the names of two opposing American pop cultural icons; actress Marilyn Monroe and cult leader Charles Manson.
MARINA & the DIAMONDS
Diamonds comes from Marinas surname Diamandis. She describes it: Im Marina. You are the diamonds.
MARRS
is an acronym derived from the forenames of the five 4AD artists involved in the project: Martyn Young (from Colourbox), Alex Ayuli and Rudy Tambala (from A.R. Kane), Russell Smith (an associate A.R. Kane member and founder of Terminal Cheesecake), and Steve Young (from Colourbox).
MARS VOLTA [The]
Cedric Bixler-Zavala stated in an interview ... The Volta is taken from a Federico Fellini book about his films, what he characterizes as a changing of scene, or a turnaround; a new scene to him is called Volta. Y'know, changing of time and the changeover. And Mars, we're just fascinated by science fiction.....
MARTELLS [The]
Named after Canadian teen pop idol Bobby Curtola's manager, Maria Martell.
MASSIVE ATTACK
Del Naja explained that Massive Attack was the name of a gigantic party organized by their favourite place of entertainment, The Warehouse, a party he and Andy Lee Isaac Vowles, retain good memories of.
MATCHBOX TWENTY
originally titled "Matchbox 20," the band took its name from a softball jersey with a "20" on it and a patch that had "Matchbox" written on it. The band altered its name to "Matchbox Twenty" after the release of its debut album Yourself or Someone Like You
MATT BIANCO
the name suggests that Matt Bianco is a person, often assumed to be an alias for the main constant member and frontman, Mark Reilly, but Matt is in fact, a made up spy, a secret agent; the band loved spy TV themes and film scores.
MAX FROST & the TROOPERS
The band name "Troopers" is based on the term "troops," the designation Max Frost used in the film to refer to his friends and followers.
MAYHEM
inspired by English heavy metal band Venom's instrumental track "Mayhem with Mercy" from their 1981 debut studio album Welcome to Hell
MC5
An acronym 'Motor City Five' honouring Detriot.
MCFLY
Tom Fletcher proposed the idea, based on his love for the American science-fiction comedy Back to the Future and Michael J. Fox's character Marty McFly. At first, Danny Jones didn't agree with the name, but after watching the movie, he changed his mind, especially after he saw that the side of the manure truck says "D. Jones" on it.
MILLIONS OF DEAD COPS
Originally known as the Stains, the hardcore group played a 1981 gig with Black Flag, where they saw policemen brutalizing teenagers who were simply trying to cross the street. We started saying, These guys dont care. Theyre here to kill you,' frontman Dave Dictor recalls. Then a friend of ours, the bass player of a band called the Dicks, said, How about calling yourselves Millions of Dead Cops?' The band did just that.
MIKE DIRNT
During grade school, Green Day bassist Michael Pritchard would constantly play "air-bass", and while pretending to pluck the strings, he made the noise, "dirnt, dirnt, dirnt". As a result, his schoolmates began to call him "Mike Dirnt".
THE MIND BENDERS
The name of the group was inspired by the title of a 1963 UK feature film, starring the British actor Sir Dirk Bogarde, called The Mind Benders.
MIND GARAGE
The Reverend Michael Paine's wife Tori Paine, thought up this name and suggested to this psychedelic rock band to put Christian words with rock music and play in church. In 1967 The Mind Garage invented the concept of Electric Liturgy, the forerunner of todays popular Christian Rock.
MEATLOAF
Marvin Lee Aday stepped on the foot of his high school football coach, who shouted 'Meat Loaf' instead of swearing
MEGADETH
Dave Mustane was inspired by a government pamphlet (A Megadeath is a military term for one million dead people, so World War II was responsible for 80 Megadeaths) after getting kicked out of Metallica. Megadeth is a phonetical spelling for Megadeath.
MEKONS
Inspired the sci-fi alien villan in the 'Dan Dare' cartoon strip in the 'Eagle' comic. The Mekon was Dan Dare's arch enemy.
MERCILESS DEATH
Some have guessed that the name "Merciless Death" comes from the song Merciless Death by Dark Angel. However, in an interview with Andy Torres in 2007, Andy said the band's name originated from a conversation with Dan Holder in which Dan came up with a possible name for the band Merciless Onslaught and Andy asked him about replacing the word 'Onslaught' with 'Death'. From that point on they called themselves Merciless Death.
METALLICA
Lars Ulrich was helping a friend think of a name for a metal fanzine. The magazine went with 'Metal Mania' and Lars kept Metallica, which was one of the suggestions.
MGMT
The band first started with the name The Management, releasing various demo albums, but since this name was already being used by another band, they later changed it to MGMT. This abbreviation stands for Management.
MIDNIGHT RAMLERS
Inspired by the Rolling Stones title, Jon Huang christened his creation Midnight Ramblers, a track from The Rolling Stones 1969 album, Let It Bleed.
MINDBENDERS
Named after a 1962 British horror movie. (appeared as themselves in the film "To Sir, With Love")
MISFITS
Taken from the 1961 movie starring Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe.
MO-DO
The name Mo-Do is claimed to originate from the two first letters of Fabio Frittelli's birth-town, Monfalcone, and the day of his birth, Domenica (which is Sunday in Italian).
MOANS [The]
They named themselves after an Art Blakey number.
MOB [The]
They named themselves after UK rock band Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules" from their 1981 album, Mob Rules. They went on to become Queensrÿche.
MOB RULES
named after UK rock band Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules" from their 1981 album, Mob Rules.
MODEST MOUSE
Named after line from a speech exercise that lead singer (a lisper) Isaac Brock learned in grade school.
MOGWAI
Named after the cute creatures from Gremlins, that turn into the evil Gremlin creatures when fed after midnight or when they get wet. Stuart Braithwaite commented that "it has no significant meaning, and we always intended on getting a better one, but like a lot of other things we never got 'round to it."
MOLLY HATCHET
The band, founded by Dave Hlubek, Steve Holland and Duane Roland in 1975, took its name from a prostitute who allegedly mutilated and decapitated her clients.
MOODY BLUES [The]
They were originally called "M & B 5" because they wanted to perform in a Birmingham brewery called 'Mitchell's and Butlers.' The building had a big 'MB' on it. Wanting to keep the MB, their final name had a subtle reference to the Duke Ellington song, "Mood Indigo".
MOOKIE BLAYLOCK
The name taken from the former All-Star basketball player for the Atlanta Hawks, the band later became Pearl Jam.
MOTHERS OF INVENTION
Their label asked them to add 'of Invention' to their original The Mothers which was an abbriviation for 'Motherfuckers'.
MOTLEY CRUE
When seeing the band, a friend of theirs commented "What a Motley looking Crue." Motley meaning "of great variety"
MOTORHEAD
When forming his new band, Lemmy concurred and decided to call the band 'Motörhead', inspired by the final song he had written for Hawkwind. The name of the song "Motorhead" is an American slang term for a speed freak.. A Motorhead in American slang is more commonly someone who loves to work on cars or motorcycles.
MOTT THE HOOPLE
A Willard Manus novel of the same name. The book is about an eccentric that works in a circus freak show.
MOUNTAIN GOATS [The]
The name is taken from the Screamin' Jay Hawkins song "Yellow Coat", which contains the line "50 million bulldogs, 20 mountain goats, all gathered 'round at sundown to see my yellow coat"
MR. BIG
named after UK rock band Free's, "Mr. Big", a track on their third studio album Fire and Water, released June 1970.
MR. CROWE'S GARDEN
Named after Leonard Leslie Brookes children's book Johnny Crow's Garden.
MR. MISTER
The name came from an inside joke about a Weather Report song "Mr. Gone" on the '78 album of the same name, where they referred to each other as "Mister This" or "Mister That", eventually they selected "Mr. Mister.
MUDHONEY
They settled on the title of a mid-60s exploitation flick (which they hadnt seen), directed by boobmeister Russ Meyer. As Mark Arm put it, Theres at least something to like about all of his movies.
MUGWUMPS
One source says thier name was taken from the William S. Burroughs novel The Naked Lunch. The liner notes for the 2007 re-release of The Mugwumps reports that Jim Hendricks claimed that the name came from music producer Erik Jacobsen, but Denny Doherty claimed that the name came from his Newfoundland grandmother.
MUSICAL BOX [The]
named after the Genesis song "The Musical Box" on their 1971 album Nursery Cryme, their 3rd studio album.
MSI
This is an abbreviation of Mindless Self Indulgence
MUDDY WATERS
His grandmother started calling him that after watching him play in a creek as a child.
MUSLIMGAUZE
The name Muslimgauze is a play on the word muslin [a type of gauze], combined with Muslim, referring to Bryn Jones' preoccupation with conflicts throughout the Muslim world.
MUTO
When guitarist George M, bassist Joe and drummer Lee decided to form an instrumental guitar driven metal trio they chose the italian/latin word Muto, an adjective meaning 'without words', 'unspoken', mute, unable to speak.
MY BLOODY VALENTINE
The band named themselves after the same name horror film, but known of them had ever actually seen the film.
________________________________________
N
N.W.A.
The Compton supergroup were practicing in Eazy-Es garage, trying to come up with a name more evocative than Dr.Dre and DJ Yellas former act, World Class Wreckin Cru. Ice Cube tells the story in the movie Straight Outta L.A.: Then Eazy said, How about N.W.A? We were like, Whats that mean? He said, Niggaz Wit Attitude. We were like, Hell yeah'.
N.R.B.Q.
Stands for New Rhythm and Blues Quartet (originally Quintet), although a 1982 article in "Creem" magazine suggested a different meaning: "Nothing Really Beats Quality".
'N SYNC
From the last letter of each band member's name: justiN, chriS, joeY, lanstoN and jC.
NAKED AND FAMOUS [The]
named after The Presidents of the United States of America's "Naked and Famous" hit single of 1994.
NANCY WHISKY
Anne Alexandra Young Wilson took her stage name from a Scottish folk song, "Nancy Whisky".
NAZARETH
The group took their name from the first line of The Band's 1968 song "The Weight" .. "I pulled into Nazareth / Was feelin' 'bout half past dead"
NECROPHOBIC
It is believed that they named themselves after a Slayer song from the 1986 seminal album Reign in Blood.
NED'S ATOMIC DUSTBIN
title of an episode of The Goon Show that the mother of vocalist Jonn Penney would read to him.
NEGATIVLAND
They took their name from a Neu! track off Neu!'s self titled debut album, while their record label, Seeland Records, is named after another Neu! track.
NEW FOUND GLORY
Singer Jordan and guitarist Steve thought up "A New Found Glory" while working at Red Lobster, but dropped the "A" after confusion from fans on where to find their CD's at record stores.
NEW MODEL ARMY
The band was named after the English revolutionary army of Oliver Cromwell.
NEW ORDER
The band's original name was Joy Division until Ian Curtis, the lead singer, lyricist killed himself. The remaining members reformed the band, thus it was the New Order. "New Order" was also a famous expression used by Hitler.
NEW YORK DOLLS
Sylvain had a job at "A Different Drummer", a men's boutique that was across the street from the New York Doll Hospital, a doll repair shop. Sylvain claimed that the shop inspired the name for their future band.
NICKEL CREEK
named after one of fiddle virtuoso Byron Berline's songs "Nickel Creek". Byron Berline was Nickel Creek band member Sara Watkins' fiddle instructor.
NICKELBACK
Some say it derived from the American Football term, but according to most sources the name is derived from the nickel (money), which Mike Kroeger frequently had to give customers back in change when he was working at a Starbucks coffee shop and would frequently say "Here's your nickel back".
NICE [The]
The band name was inspired by the Small Faces' hit song about drugs "Here Comes the Nice"
NINE BELOW ZERO
named after the Sonny Boy Williamson II penned song "Nine Below Zero"
NINE INCH NAILS
Trent Reznor said in 1994 that he coined the name "Nine Inch Nails" because it "abbreviated easily", rather than for "any literal meaning". Other rumored explanations have circulated, alleging that Reznor chose to reference Jesus' crucifixion with nine-inch spikes, or Freddy Krueger's nine-inch fingernails.
NIRVANA
In Buddhism it means the state of perfect blessedness attained through the annihilation of the self.
NO DOUBT
original singer John Spence formed an Orange County-based 2 Tone ska group and it was named after Spence's favorite vocal expression "no doubt" with keyboardist Eric Stefani. After Spence's death, the name stuck.
NOAH & the WHALE
Their name is a combination of the title of the movie "Squid and the Whale" and the name of the film's director, "Noah Baumbach".
NOFX
guitarist Eric Melvin says that he came up with the name, inspired by the broken up punk band "Negative FX". The name is also meant to symbolize the band's rejection of gimmickry that the band was seeing in music at the time.
NUNATAK
The band's name is the Greenlandic word for a mountain top protruding from an ice sheet.
________________________________________
O
O'JAYS [The]
Originally called the Mascots, they named themselves after the Cleveland disc jockey Eddie O'Jay, who helped the band out in their early days.
O'SULLIVAN, GILBERT
Manager Gordon Mills found a clever name for his newfound talent. Playing off Ray O'Sullivan's last name and the playwriting team of Gilbert and Sullivan, the name Gilbert O'Sullivan seemed a natural choice.
OASIS
Oasis is the name of a Sports Centre in Swindon, England. Noel Gallacher was the roadie for a band that played there once, and a place where The Beatles played.
OCEANSIZE
The band named themselves after Jane's Addiction song, "Ocean Size". According to guitarist Gambler, the band's then-bassist Jon Ellis came up with the name: "I think, at the time, he was thinking what we would sound like. Janes Nothing's Shocking album, which has the track "Ocean Size" on it, was definitely a big influence."
ORDINARY BOYS (The)
named themselves after the song "The Ordinary Boys" performed by Morrissey on his 1988 album Viva Hate.
OF MICE & MEN
The Band is named after the novel by John Steinbeck. Steinbeck himself took the name from a line in the poem "To A Mouse" by Robert Burns, which reads "the best-laid schemes of mice and men/Go often awry."
OFFSPRING [The]
Its members Dexter Holland and Greg K decided to form a band after attending a Social Distortion concert. The band was called Manic Subsidal, who suddenly changed their name to The Offspring in 1986.
OLD 97's
| Albert Camus |
In which year did Alcock and Brown make the first non-stop trans- Atlantic flight? | SparkNotes: The Stranger: Context
The Stranger
Table of Contents
Plot Overview
Albert Camus was born on November 7, 1913, in French colonial Algeria. In 1914, his father was killed in World War I, at the Battle of the Marne. Albert, his mother, and his brother shared a two-bedroom apartment with the family’s maternal grandmother and a paralyzed uncle. Despite his family’s extreme poverty, Camus attended the University of Algiers, supporting his education by working a series of odd jobs. However, one of several severe attacks of tuberculosis forced him to drop out of school. The poverty and illness Camus experienced as a youth greatly influenced his writing.
After dropping out of the university, Camus eventually entered the world of political journalism. While working for an anti-colonialist newspaper, he wrote extensively about poverty in Algeria. From 1935 to 1938, Camus ran the Théâtre de l’Equipe, an organization that attempted to attract working-class audiences to performances of great dramatic works. During World War II, Camus went to Paris and became a leading writer for the anti-German resistance movement. He was also the editor of Combat, an important underground newspaper.
While in wartime Paris, Camus developed his philosophy of the absurd. A major component of this philosophy was Camus’s assertion that life has no rational or redeeming meaning. The experience of World War II led many other intellectuals to similar conclusions. Faced with the horrors of Hitler’s Nazi regime and the unprecedented slaughter of the War, many could no longer accept that human existence had any purpose or discernible meaning. Existence seemed simply, to use Camus’s term, absurd.
The Stranger, Camus’s first novel, is both a brilliantly crafted story and an illustration of Camus’s absurdist world view. Published in 1942, the novel tells the story of an emotionally detached, amoral young man named Meursault. He does not cry at his mother’s funeral, does not believe in God, and kills a man he barely knows without any discernible motive. For his crime, Meursault is deemed a threat to society and sentenced to death. When he comes to accept the “gentle indifference of the world,” he finds peace with himself and with the society that persecutes him.
Camus’s absurdist philosophy implies that moral orders have no rational or natural basis. Yet Camus did not approach the world with moral indifference, and he believed that life’s lack of a “higher” meaning should not necessarily lead one to despair. On the contrary, Camus was a persistent humanist. He is noted for his faith in man’s dignity in the face of what he saw as a cold, indifferent universe.
In 1942, the same year that The Stranger was published, Camus also published The Myth of Sisyphus, his famous philosophical essay on the absurd. These two works helped establish Camus’s reputation as an important and brilliant literary figure. Over the course of his career he produced numerous novels, plays, and essays that further developed his philosophy. Among his most notable novels are The Plague, published in 1947, and The Fall, published in 1956. Along with The Myth of Sisyphus, The Rebel stands as his best-known philosophical essay. In recognition of his contribution to French and world literature, Camus was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1957. Tragically, he died in an automobile accident just three years later.
In the midst of the widespread intellectual and moral bewilderment that followed World War II, Camus’s was a voice advocating the values of justice and human dignity. Though his career was cut short, he remains one of the most influential authors of the twentieth century, regarded both for the quality of his fiction and for the depth and insightfulness of his philosophy.
Camus, Existentialism & The Stranger
The Stranger is often referred to as an “existential” novel, but this description is not necessarily accurate. The term “existentialism” is a broad and far-reaching classification that means many different things to many different people, and is often misapplied or overapplied. As it is most commonly used, existentialism refers to the idea that there is no “higher” meaning to the universe or to man’s existence, and no rational order to the events of the world. According to this common definition of existentialism, human life is not invested with a redemptive or affirming purpose—there is nothing beyond man’s physical existence.
Some ideas in The Stranger clearly resemble this working definition of existentialism, but the broader philosophy of existentialism includes aspects far beyond this definition that are not present in The Stranger. Moreover, Camus himself rejected the application of the “existential” label to The Stranger. Hence, this SparkNote approaches The Stranger from the philosophical perspective of the absurd. “The absurd” is a term Camus himself coined, and a philosophy that he himself developed. Reading The Stranger with Camus’s philosophy of the absurd in mind sheds a good deal of light on the text.
Although Camus’s philosophical ideas resonate strongly within the text, it is important to keep in mind that The Stranger is a novel, not a philosophical essay. When reading the novel, character development, plot, and prose style demand just as much attention as the specifics of the absurd. This SparkNote only discusses the absurd when such discussion provides insight on the text. Otherwise, the focus of this SparkNote remains on the text itself, as with any great work of literature.
| i don't know |
Who played the title role in the 1939 film ‘Young Mr Lincoln’? | Young Mr. Lincoln (1939) - IMDb
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A fictionalized account of the early life of the American president as a young lawyer facing his greatest court case.
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Title: Young Mr. Lincoln (1939)
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Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 2 wins & 1 nomination. See more awards »
Photos
Newlyweds Gil and Lana Martin try to establish a farm in the Mohawk Valley but are menaced by Indians and Tories as the Revolutinary War begins.
Director: John Ford
A Western retelling the tale of the Shoot-out at the OK Corral.
Director: John Ford
Aboard the freighter Glencairn, the lives of the crew are lived out in fear, loneliness, suspicion and cameraderie. The men smuggle drink and women aboard, fight with each other, spy on ... See full summary »
Director: John Ford
In 1922, an Irish rebel informs on his friend, then feels doom closing in.
Director: John Ford
The story of Dr. Samuel Mudd, who was imprisoned after innocently treating President Lincoln's assassin in 1865.
Director: John Ford
Two young drifters guide a Mormon wagon train to the San Juan Valley and encounter cutthroats, Indians, geography, and moral challenges on the journey.
Director: John Ford
A group of people traveling on a stagecoach find their journey complicated by the threat of Geronimo and learn something about each other in the process.
Director: John Ford
At Fort Apache, an honorable and veteran war captain finds conflict when his regime is placed under the command of a young, glory hungry lieutenant colonel with no respect for the local Indian tribe.
Director: John Ford
A dramatized account of the role of the American PT Boats in the defense of the Philippines in World War II.
Directors: John Ford, Robert Montgomery
Stars: Robert Montgomery, John Wayne, Donna Reed
Captain Nathan Brittles, on the eve of retirement, takes out a last patrol to stop an impending massive Indian attack. Encumbered by women who must be evacuated, Brittles finds his mission imperiled.
Director: John Ford
Hillbilly family life in 1941 rural Georgia.
Director: John Ford
Anti-Catholic and anti-cleric policies in the Mexican state of Tabasco lead the revolutionary government to persecute the state's last remaining priest.
Directors: John Ford, Emilio Fernández
Stars: Henry Fonda, Dolores del Rio, Pedro Armendáriz
Edit
Storyline
Ten years in the life of Abraham Lincoln, before he became known to his nation and the world. He moves from a Kentucky cabin to Springfield, Illinois, to begin his law practice. He defends two men accused of murder in a political brawl, suffers the death of his girlfriend Ann, courts his future wife Mary Todd, and agrees to go into politics. Written by Ed Stephan <[email protected]>
The story of Abraham Lincoln that has NEVER been told!
Genres:
9 June 1939 (USA) See more »
Also Known As:
El joven Lincoln See more »
Filming Locations:
Mono (Western Electric Mirrophonic Recording)
Color:
Did You Know?
Trivia
John Ford and producer Darryl F. Zanuck fought an extended battle over control of the film. Ford even had unused takes of the film destroyed so the studio could not insert them into the movie. One scene that Ford insisted on cutting was a scene where Lincoln met his future assassin, a very young John Wilkes Booth. See more »
Goofs
When comparing a farmer's dog to Scrub White, Abe's hand leaves the bench between shots. See more »
Quotes
(Naxxar, Malta) – See all my reviews
This film was not only one of John Ford's own personal favorites but also numbered directors Sergei M. Eisenstein and Bertrand Tavernier among its high-profile admirers. Ironically, I've just caught up with it myself via Criterion's recent 2-Disc Set after missing out on a couple of original language screenings of it on Italian TV many years ago and again a few times on TV while in Hollywood!
The film marked Ford's first of nine collaborations with Henry Fonda and is also a quintessential example of Ford's folksy Americana vein. A beautifully made and pictorially quite poetic piece of work, the courtroom sequences (and eventual revelation) in its second half still pack quite a wallop, apart from giving stalwart character actor Donald Meek a memorably meaty role as the prosecuting attorney.
Fonda is, of course, perfectly cast as a bashful, inexperienced but rigorous and humanistic lawyer who was destined to become President; Fonda would go on to portray other fictitious politicians on film - most notably in Franklin J. Schaffner's THE BEST MAN (1964) and Sidney Lumet's FAIL-SAFE (1964) - and it's surprising now to learn that he was reluctant at the time about accepting the role of Lincoln since, in his view, that was "like playing God"!
It is interesting to note here that Ford had previously tackled Abraham Lincoln (tangentially) in THE PRISONER OF SHARK ISLAND (1936), a superb but perhaps little-known gem which has, luckily, just been released as a Special Edition DVD by the UK's veritable Criterion stand-in, Eureka's "Masters Of Cinema" label. Besides, I also have two more Abraham Lincoln films in my DVD collection which I've yet to watch and, incidentally, both were directed by D. W. Griffith - THE BIRTH OF A NATION (1915) and ABRAHAM LINCOLN (1930) - and, had I not just received a bunch of films I've never watched before just now, I would have gladly given them a spin based on my highly-satisfying viewing experience with YOUNG MR. LINCOLN.
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| Henry Fonda |
The Rembrandt Tower is a 135 metre tall building in which Dutch city? | Westerns Films
Westerns Films
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Examples
John Ford's Westerns in the Late 30s and 40s:
Ford also offered up other films in 1939 with emphasis on action and character: Young Mr. Lincoln (1939) with Henry Fonda in the title role, and Drums Along the Mohawk (1939), a film about upstate New York settlers (Henry Fonda and Claudette Colbert) facing the trials of living on the frontier during the Revolutionary War period.
After World War II, John Ford returned to the western icons of his beloved Monument Valley and filmed his dark version of the OK Corral shootout (between the Earps and Clantons) in the stunning legendary classic
My Darling Clementine (1946) again with Henry Fonda (as Wyatt Earp) and with Victor Mature (as Doc Holliday). The film adaptation, written by Samuel G. Engel, Sam Hellman and Winston Miller, was based on the book Wyatt Earp, Frontier Marshal by Stuart N. Lake, and proved to be another western film milestone. (There were at least five other sound films with the same subject matter, Wyatt Earp in Tombstone, before Ford canonized the tale.)
Ford's Cavalry Films - Trilogy:
In the late 1940s, John Ford also explored other possibilities for westerns and created a famous 'so-called' trilogy of western 'cavalry' films, noted for their glorious landscapes of Arizona's Monument Valley and their affectionate and militaristic perspective on the winning of the West by overtaking the Indians:
Fort Apache (1948), with Henry Fonda as an arrogant, Indian-hating lieutenant
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949), an autumnal western in which John Wayne played a retirement-age cavalry captain named Nathan Brittles, who prevents a large-scale Indian uprising following the Battle of the Little Big Horn; noted for Winton C. Hoch's beautiful Oscar-winning cinematography (the film's sole nomination and win); this was Ford's personal favorite of the trilogy
Rio Grande (1950)
By the end of his career, John Ford had made fifteen sound Westerns, and numerous silent westerns. The prolific Henry Fonda would eventually star in 8 John Ford films, and 21 westerns in total.
Other Well-Received Westerns:
There were many other westerns in 1939 and the 40s, some of which were grade A-westerns with strong character emphasis and greater maturity, including:
Zanuck's fictionalized, glamourized, big budget film Jesse James (1939), directed by Henry King, with Henry Fonda as Frank James
William Wyler's entertaining saga The Westerner (1940) with Walter Brennan (who won a record-setting third Academy Award for his role) and Gary Cooper
the somber, thought-provoking indictment of mob rule in William A. Wellman's noirish The Ox-Bow Incident (1943) - starring Henry Fonda and Harry Morgan as drifters who attempted to prevent the lynching of three innocent men
Sex-Westerns:
Two 40s westerns were infamous sex-westerns, both salaciously marketed to full effect. Obsessed millionaire director/producer Howard Hughes' B-grade, much-censored The Outlaw (1943) was notorious for leering camera views of Jane Russell's ample cleavage (in her breakthrough debut film). The storyline, the pursuit of Billy the Kid by Sheriff Pat Garrett (Thomas Mitchell), with Russell as Doc Holliday's (Walter Huston) sexy, half-breed mistress Rio (with an oft-unbuttoned, low-cut peasant blouse), was considered too racy for contemporary audiences in 1941 and postponed until 1943 for limited release. After a one-week run, Hughes shelved the film for three years after which it was finally placed in general release in 1946 (in a cut version), and again in 1947
And the ambitious scandalous production Duel in the Sun (1946) from producer and credited scriptwriter David O. Selznick was a "Gone With The Wind"- type western. This lurid Technicolor western, directed by King Vidor (who quit and was one of eight directors and cinematographers), was a sprawling melodramatic saga of sexual longing that was forced to cut nine minutes of its content before widespread release. It was critically renamed "Lust in the Dust" by its detractors. Jennifer Jones starred as 'half-breed' Pearl caught in a destructive love triangle between the two sons of a cattle baron family (Lionel Barrymore and Lillian Gish) - moderate Joseph Cotten and hot-tempered Gregory Peck. It still remains one of the top box-office westerns - in inflation-adjusted dollars.
John Wayne and Howard Hawks:
Director/producer Howard Hawks worked with John Wayne in four films, the best of which was the realistic cattle drive epic in the genre - the beautifully-photographed black and white
Red River (1948) . It dramatically told about an historic cattle drive on the Chisholm Trail (the film was the Western equivalent of Mutiny on the Bounty (1935) ) from Texas to Abilene, in which Wayne played an obsessive, authoritarian, tough and irrational cattle baron battling his foster son Montgomery Clift. [This was Hawks' first Western, although he had earlier worked - uncredited - on Viva Villa! (1934) and The Outlaw (1943).] Red River had all the elements of classic westerns: Indian attacks, scenic grandeur, stampedes, romance, and a generational battle of wills between father and son with John Wayne in an unsympathetic role.
The other magnificent westerns Hawks and Wayne made together included the humorous, action-filled western Rio Bravo (1959) with John Wayne as a tough-guy sheriff (and deliberately filmed as a reaction to High Noon), El Dorado (1967), and Rio Lobo (1970). Rio Bravo (1959) teamed Wayne with a drunken sheriff (Dean Martin) and teenaged sharpshooter (Ricky Nelson - and was remade as John Carpenter's action-thriller Assault on Precinct 13 (1976).
Film-Noirish Westerns: Mann, Boetticher, and Daves
Through the lens of film noir and psychology, Westerns during the post-war period of the late 1940s and 1950s took on brooding, dark, and intense themes. Hollywood infused them with cynicism, character complexities, flawed outlaw heroes, and dark pessimism. Two genuine noir westerns, both starring noir actor Robert Mitchum, were:
Raoul Walsh's bleak, Freudian-tinged, stylish and intriguing western psychodrama Pursued (1947); it was similar in theme to Ford's
The Searchers (1956) , with superbly-brooding cinematography by James Wong Howe and from a script by novelist and screenwriter Niven Busch (known for writing Duel in the Sun in 1944 that was later made into a film by David O. Selznick as Duel in the Sun (1946) , and married to the film's female lead Teresa Wright)
director Robert Wise's claustrophobic Blood on the Moon (1948)
Anthony Mann
The most prominent examples of 50s noir Westerns were the series of five films that teamed actor James Stewart with director Anthony Mann in some of the darkest, adult "psychological westerns" ever made. [Note: In the late 1940s, Mann had two stunning noirish films: the pseudo-documentary T-Men (1947), and the crime drama Raw Deal (1948).] In Mann's films, the director focused on chilling tales of revenge, obsession, and the paranoia of a lone, confused, tortured, vengeful western figure played by a darker James Stewart:
Winchester '73 (1950), the first in the series of classic westerns in the 50s - a tale of the relentless pursuit of a one-of-a-kind Winchester '73 gun and revenge sought by Stewart on his brother (who killed their father)
Bend of the River (1952), the stark and compelling story of the Oregon Trail journey across the country, with Stewart as an ex-outlaw going straight and having to confront his former partner on the opposite side of the law
the sophisticated and excellent The Naked Spur (1953), a study of compulsive greed for reward money by a self-loathing bounty hunter (Stewart) inspired by the goal of re-purchasing farm land lost during the Civil War, and up against Robert Ryan
The Far Country (1954), another story of deceit and revenge
The Man From Laramie (1955), with suspenseful, savage rough action in a murderous feud between two 'sons' of a patriarchal rancher named Alec Waggoman (Donald Crisp) - Dave (Alex Nicol) and ranch foreman Vic Hansbro (Arthur Kennedy), while Will Lockhart (Stewart) avenged his brother's death (caused by Dave illegally and secretly selling guns to Apaches)
[Footnote: Studio control of stars significantly eroded when James Stewart signed a precedent-setting independent (or free-lance) contract to share in the box-office profits of the Anthony Mann western Winchester '73 (1950), and for the comedy Harvey (1950). In fact, for all his Universal Studios films (including Bend of the River (1952), and The Far Country (1954)), Stewart took no salary in exchange for a large cut of the profits -- a very lucrative deal. As a result, he earned increasingly high salaries, became a pioneer of the percentage deal (a performer accepted a reduced salary in exchange for a percentage of the box office profits), and was the industry's top box-office star by mid-decade.]
Budd Boetticher
Budd Boetticher, an often-neglected director of westerns, is best known for his seven B-grade, low-budget westerns filmed between 1956 and 1960. Seven were made in collaboration with western actor Randolph Scott (screenwriter Burt Kennedy's scripts are marked with * below). These gritty, cult classic westerns with lean and simple plots and with small casts were mostly shot in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and included:
the psychological western Seven Men From Now (1956)* with Randolph Scott as vengeful former sheriff Ben Stride tracking down the seven killers of his wife during a Wells Fargo holdup; also starred Lee Marvin as the central villain
Decision at Sundown (1957) with Randolph Scott as Texan Bart Allison, ending his three-year vengeful search for Tate Kimbrough (John Carroll) in the town of Sundown; Tate had seduced his wife and then caused her suicide in his hometown of Saving Pass
The Tall T (1957)*, the story of stagecoach passengers (including Scott and other captives) held by outlaws (led by Richard Boone) - a quintessential "battle of good and evil"
Buchanan Rides Alone (1958), with Scott as West Texan Tom Buchanan, involved with a feuding family in the California/Mexico border town of Agry
Westbound (1958), with Scott as Union Army Captain John Hayes; with the tagline: "Hellbound for Vengeance for the Flaming Redhead Who Betrayed Him!"
the excellent "B" western Ride Lonesome (1959)*, with Scott as lawman/bounty hunter Ben Brigade competing with others searching for an outlaw/killer; also featured James Coburn in his first film, and Lee Van Cleef
Comanche Station (1960)* - the last of seven films, with Scott as stoic Jefferson Cody - a lone cowboy whose wife was kidnapped by Indians; also with Claude Akins
Delmer Daves
Director Delmer Daves directed the adult western drama 3:10 to Yuma (1957) from an early Elmore Leonard story - a variation of High Noon and Shane about a suspenseful wait for the arrival of a train bound for Yuma prison, by a poor rancher (Van Heflin) who holds a notorious gunman (Glenn Ford in a casting role-reversal).
The Comic Western:
James Stewart had appeared in only one other western before this time as Thomas Jefferson Destry, Jr., a peace-loving, milk-drinking sheriff in the town of Bottleneck battling crooked Last Chance Saloon owner Brian Donlevy - it was a light, appreciative, humorous spoof of B-grade westerns titled Destry Rides Again (1939) . and featured a comeback role for the earthy Marlene Dietrich (in a marathon wrestling match against Una Merkel).
Cult Westerns:
Other directors incorporated noirish or cultish elements into their 1950s 'non-Western' westerns. German director Fritz Lang made three exceptional westerns from 1940-1952, all of which were in Technicolor. The first film, made in the early 40s, still suffered from the restrictions of the Hays Code requiring that a bad man couldn't be a hero, so Fonda's character was made to be more saintly and less brutal than the film required:
The Return of Frank James (1940), a superior sequel to Henry King's and Fox's popular Jesse James (1939), with Henry Fonda reprising his role as Jesse's brother Frank and featuring the film debut of Gene Tierney as a reporter; this was Lang's first color film, and his first Western
the big-budget feature for Fox, Western Union (1941), with Robert Young and Randolph Scott - Lang's second Technicolor film and second western, a fictional story against the backdrop of the achievement of installing WU telegraph wires between Omaha and Salt Lake City at the start of the Civil War
Rancho Notorious (1952), the last of Lang's three westerns, featuring Marlene Dietrich and Mel Ferrer in a quirky, dream-like revenge western
Nicholas Ray's astonishing one-of-a-kind camp cult classic Johnny Guitar (1954) starred Joan Crawford and Mercedes McCambridge who shoot it out in the film's bloody finale. Similarly, maverick director Samuel Fuller's female-centric cult-western Forty Guns (1957) (originally titled The Woman with the Whip) featured Barbara Stanwyck as the whip-wielding matriarch of Tombstone, sexual innuendo, and imaginative, visceral camerawork. And Joseph Lewis' final feature film, the off-beat, low-budget, black and white cult film Terror in a Texas Town (1958) starred the rugged Sterling Hayden as a Scandinavian whaler who was armed with a harpoon in a showdown against a black-clad gunman. And sci-fi writer/director Michael Crichton's Westworld (1973), his first theatrical feature (and a precursor to Spielberg's Jurassic Park), told a futuristic story of a remote 'Disneyland Western Theme Park for Adults' where the mechanical cyborgs (one of which was a gunslinging Yul Brynner) developed serious malfunctions. The film inspired the cheap sequel Futureworld (1976) with Peter Fonda and Blythe Danner, and a TV series Beyond Westworld.
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Which Bristol born, Oxford educated poet was appointed Poet Laureate by George III in 1813 on the refusal by Walter Scott? | Robert Southey (1774 - 1843) - Genealogy
Robert Southey
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Poet Laureat of England, Poet Laureate 1813-1843, English poet of the Romantic school
Managed by:
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine St, Bristol, Gloucestershire
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall Keswick, Cumberland London
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Brother:
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine Street, Bristol, Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Aug 12 1774 - Bristol, Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England / Grasmere
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Siblings:
John Cannon Southey, Eliza Southey, Thomas Southey, Louisa Southey, John Southey, Henry Herbert Southey, Margaretta Southey
Wife:
Caroline Ann Southey (born Bowles)
Wife:
Edith Southey (born Fricker)
Children:
...Henry Herbert Southey, Emma Southey, Bertha Southey, Katharine Southey, Isabel Southey, Rev Charles Cuthbert Southey, Margaret Edith Southey
Aug 12 1774 - Wine Street, Bristol, Gls, Eng
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cul, Eng
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Aug 12 1774 - Wine Street, Bristol, Gloucester, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Caroline Anne Southey (born Bowles)
Son:
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine Street, Bristol, Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Brother:
Caroline Anne Southey (born Bowles)
Partner:
Edith Southey (born Fricker)
Children:
... May Water (born Southey), Herbert Castle Southey, Emma Southey, Bertha Southey, Katherine Southey, Isabel Southey, Charles Cuthbert Southey
Aug 12 1774 - Wine Street, Bristol, Gls, Eng
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cul, Eng
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Aug 12 1774 - Bristol, Gloucester, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine Street, Bristol, Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Siblings:
...uthey, Elizabeth Southey, Captain Thomas Southey, Dr Henry Herbert Southey, Edward Southey, Margaretta Southey, Louisa Southey, John Southey
Partner:
Caroline Ann Southey (born Bowles)
Children:
...(born Southey), Herbert Castle Southey, Emma Southey, Bertha Hill (born Southey), Katherine (Kate) Southey, Isabel Southey, Rev Charles C...
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine Street, Bristol (Avon), Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Caroline Anne Southey (born Bowles)
Wife:
Edith Southey (born Fricker)
Children:
... May Water (born Southey), Herbert Castle Southey, Emma Southey, Bertha Southey, Katherine Southey, Isabel Southey, Charles Cuthbert Southey
Aug 12 1774 - 9 Wine Street, Bristol, Gloucestershire, England
Death:
Mar 21 1843 - Greta Hall, Keswick, Cumberland, England
Parents:
Robert Southey, Margaret Southey (born Hill)
Wife:
Caroline Anne Southey (born Bowles)
Wife:
Edith Southey (born Fricker)
Children:
... May Water (born Southey), Herbert Castle Southey, Emma Southey, Bertha Southey, Katherine Southey, Isabel Southey, Charles Cuthbert Southey
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Robert Southey, English poet
Robert Southey (August 12, 1774 – March 21, 1843) was an English poet of the Romantic school, one of the so-called "Lake Poets", and Poet Laureate. Although his fame tends to be eclipsed by that of his contemporaries and friends William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Southey's verse enjoys enduring popularity. Moreover, he was a prolific letter writer and literary scholar, writing a number of biographical studies of historical interest, notably on the life and works of John Bunyan, John Wesley, William Cowper and Oliver Cromwell and a biography of Horatio Nelson which has rarely been out of print since its publication in 1813. He was also a renowned Portuguese and Spanish scholar, translating a number of works of those two countries into English and writing both a History of Brazil (part of his planned History of Portugal which was never completed) and a History of the Peninsular War.
Life
He was born in Bristol to Thomas Southey and Margaret Hill and educated at Westminster School (from which he was expelled for writing a magazine article condemning flogging) and Balliol College, Oxford (of his time at Oxford Southey was later to say "All I learnt was a little swimming ... and a little boating."). After experimenting with a writing partnership with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, he published his first collection of poems in 1794. The same year, he, Coleridge and a few others discussed setting up an idealistic community in America ("pantisocracy").
Their wants would be simple and natural; their toil need not be such as the slaves of luxury endure; where possessions were held in common, each would work for all; in their cottages the best books would have a place; literature and science, bathed anew in the invigorating stream of life and nature, could not but rise reanimated and purified. Each young man should take to himself a mild and lovely woman for his wife; it would be her part to prepare their innocent food, and tend their hardy and beautiful race.
Later iterations of the plan moved the commune to Wales, but Southey was later the first of the group to reject the idea as unworkable.
Southey's wife, Edith, was the sister of Coleridge's wife. The Southeys set up home at Greta Hall, Keswick, in the Lake District, living on a tiny income. From 1809, he contributed to the Quarterly Review, and had become so well-known by 1813 that he was appointed Poet Laureate.
In 1819, through a mutual friend (John Rickman), Southey met leading civil engineer Thomas Telford and struck up a strong friendship. From mid-August to 1 October 1819, Southey accompanied Telford on an extensive tour of his engineering projects in the Scottish Highlands, keeping a diary of his observations. This was published posthumously in 1929 as Journal of a tour in Scotland in 1819.
In 1838, Edith died and Southey married Caroline Anne Bowles, also a poet. Many of his poems are still read by British schoolchildren, the best-known being The Inchcape Rock,After Blenheim (possibly one of the earliest anti-war poems) and The Cataract of Lodore.
Major works
* Amadis de Gaula ( 1803 ). Translation
* Madoc ( 1805 )
* Letters from England ( 1807 ) ISBN 0-86299-130-7, (Alan Sutton, Paperback).
* Palmerin of England ( 1807 ). Translation.
* The Cid ( 1808 ). Translation
* The Curse of Kehama ( 1810 )
* History of Brazil Volume I ( 1810 )
* The Life of Nelson ( 1813 )
* Roderick, the Last of the Goths ( 1814 )
* Wat Tyler: A Dramatic Poem ( 1817 )
* Journal of a Tour in Scotland in 1819 ( 1929, posthumous )
* The Life of Wesley, and the rise and progress of Methodism (c.1820)
* A Vision of Judgment ( 1821 )
* Life of Cromwell ( 1821 )
* The Pilgrim's Progress with a Life of John Bunyan (1830)
* Cowper ( 1833 )
* The Doctors ( 1834 ). Includes the first published version of the fairy tale-like The Three Bears.
* Select Lives of Cromwell and Bunyan (1846)
* The Inchcape Rock
* After Blenheim
Further reading
Curry, Kenneth (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (Columbia UP: New York and London, 1965)
Dowden, Edward (ed.), The Correspondence of Robert Southey with Caroline Bowles (Dublin and London, 1881)
Low, Dennis, The Literary Protégées of the Lake Poets (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006)
Madden, John Lionel, Robert Southey: the critical heritage (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1972)
Pratt, Lynda, ed. Robert Southey, Poetical Works, 1793-1810, 5 vols. (London: Pickering and Chatto, 2004)
Southey, Charles Cuthbert (ed.), The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey (New York, 1855).
Speck, W. A. Robert Southey: Entire Man of Letters, (Yale University Press, 2006)
http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/26056?docPos=4
Southey, Robert (1774–1843), poet and reviewer, was born in Wine Street, Bristol, on 12 August 1774. He was the second son of Robert Southey (1745–1792), a linen draper descended from a family of Somerset woollen manufacturers and farmers. Robert the elder was not successful in business, and in 1792 became bankrupt. The poet's mother, Margaret (1752–1802), daughter of Edward and Margaret Hill, belonged to a higher social class: minor gentry from Herefordshire and Somerset. Her brother, Herbert Hill, was chaplain to the British factory in Oporto, Portugal, and was an important influence on Robert during his adolescence and young manhood. But it was Margaret's half-sister Elizabeth Tyler who took responsibility for Robert in his childhood: he lived with her almost exclusively until the age of seven, and even after that she exerted a dominating authority. She lived in Bath, thus distancing herself from her socially inferior relatives in Bristol, and took pains to keep the boy away from playmates and the usual activities of childhood. In compensation she had a passion for the theatre which she allowed Robert to share: he saw his first play at the age of four, and was early seized with the ambition to write plays himself.
Education and early writings
The informal autobiography that Southey wrote in letters to a friend between 1820 and 1825 vividly conjures up his varied experiences of repression and bullying. The picture he gives of the schools he attended (a dame-school, two grammar schools in Bristol, and a boarding-school at Corston) is one of incompetence and brutality, though he felt that the years at his second grammar school, while unprofitable, were not unhappy. He early took to the writing of poetry, his first effort, at the age of nine or ten, being a sequel to the Orlando Furioso. Subsequent projects included historical epics, heroic epistles, a satire, some translations, and a play about the Trojan war. At the outset he thus displayed the versatility which was to mark the whole of his literary career. His reading, too, was immense. He particularly admired the great romantic epics of Ariosto, Tasso, and Spenser.
In 1788 Southey's uncle Herbert Hill had him entered at Westminster School, with a view to gaining admission to Oxford University and so to a career in the church. Here again he had to suffer the bullying and brutality of the kind experienced at his earlier schools, but he also made lasting friendships, recorded in a mass of carefully preserved correspondence. One of these friends was Charles Watkin Williams Wynn, who came from a prominent whig family in Wales. In due course he was sufficiently affluent to help Southey with a modest annuity, and in 1808 sufficiently influential to replace this with a government pension. Southey's other close friend, Grosvenor Charles Bedford, lived near London, and his family's collection of modern books was available to Southey when he visited. Voltaire, Rousseau, Gibbon, and Goethe's Sorrows of Young Werther combined to unsettle his religious beliefs, and to produce the subversive state of mind that led to his expulsion from the school. He and his friends produced a periodical after the manner of The Spectator and The Rambler, entitled The Flagellant, and at the end of March 1792 Southey contributed an attack on corporal punishment as an invention of the devil. This was too much for Dr Vincent, the headmaster, who not only expelled Southey forthwith but also warned Christ Church, the Oxford college where he expected to be enrolled, that he was an undesirable character.
Although Dr Vincent had done his best to protect Oxford from Southey's malign influence, Balliol College took a more relaxed view, and he matriculated there in November 1792, coming into residence in the following January. In the months after his expulsion from Westminster his state of mind fluctuated between near despair and exhilaration. He was encouraged by the way in which the ideas of Paine and the power of the French Revolution seemed to be triumphing over the corrupt old order, but the political atmosphere changed abruptly at the end of the year with the prospect of war between France and Britain. Southey remained faithful to his radicalism, but it was an anxious fidelity. His insecurity was heightened by his father's bankruptcy and death in the autumn of 1792.
At Balliol College, Southey found little to stimulate him, apart from some congenial new friends, notably another prospective ordinand, Edmund Seward, whose austere Christian stoicism was to be a lifelong influence. But Southey's own rejection of orthodoxy made him increasingly resistant to the idea of becoming a clergyman, and he evidently put a good deal more energy into his literary projects than into his studies. It was in 1793 that he wrote the first version of Joan of Arc, a democratic epic that celebrated a woman who was also an enemy of England. Still, he could not make a living by such outrageous challenges to convention, and by the end of 1793 he decided that he would have to make a career for himself in medicine. (His younger brother Henry Herbert Southey became a physician.) But sessions in the dissecting-room disgusted and disenchanted him, and he then wondered if he might follow Grosvenor Bedford into government service in the exchequer. He soon discovered that his reputation as a republican put this out of the question.
Pantisocracy
In despair Southey's thoughts turned to emigration, an idea which was the more attractive since he found himself in love with a Bristol seamstress, Edith Fricker (1774–1837), and wanted to marry her. And then in June 1794 Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834) visited Oxford and was introduced to Southey. They took to each other at once, gave each other confidence in their speculations, and by the following month had devised the scheme of pantisocracy—the establishment of an egalitarian settlement in North America. Southey was mainly responsible for persuading people to join the enterprise. He recruited members of his family and a number of his friends, including Edith Fricker and her sisters. Coleridge provided most of the theory underpinning the project, and confirmed his commitment by marrying Edith's younger sister Sara.
Southey had been reading William Godwin's recently published treatise Political Justice. Its faith in the inevitable triumph of a society based on reason attracted him, as did the role which Godwin saw literature playing in this desirable process. Pantisocracy would provide a foretaste of this triumph, and it gave him ‘new life, new hope, new energy’. All the faculties of his mind, he said, were dilated (letter of 12 Oct 1794, New Letters, 1.81–2). He left Oxford and spent the next year and a quarter in the west of England, much of it in the animating company of Coleridge. While planning emigration the two men gave ingeniously subversive public lectures. Their conversation, too, seems to have been downright audacious. They collaborated in writing a verse play on the death of Robespierre, and Southey composed a similar piece on Wat Tyler, who he supposed (thinking of his aunt) might be one of his forebears. It was at this time that he wrote his ‘Botany Bay Eclogues’, exposing the injustices of the English legal system, and the experiments in classical metres (‘The Soldier's Wife’, ‘The Widow’) so mercilessly parodied by George Canning in The Anti-Jacobin.
But the exhilaration of this period could not be sustained. Pantisocracy failed because Southey and Coleridge lacked the money even to travel to Pennsylvania, let alone establish their settlement. Southey himself was in increased financial difficulties because Miss Tyler had cast him off when she learned of the emigration plan and the engagement to a seamstress. As time went on, too, Coleridge's flamboyant radicalism, coupled with his less stable temperament, created tensions which led to an estrangement. Southey's uncle in Portugal helpfully invited his nephew to spend some months in that country, and he left Bristol for Lisbon on 19 November 1795, having secretly married Edith Fricker on the 14th. She took up residence in the family of Joseph Cottle, the bookseller who had agreed to publish Joan of Arc and who later proved to be exceedingly generous in his assistance to both Southey and Coleridge.
Portugal and beginnings of literary career
Southey's stay in Spain and Portugal lasted from mid-December to early May in the year following. He visited Madrid, but spent most of his time in and around Lisbon. He obtained a good grounding in both Spanish and Portuguese, but was repelled by his encounter with the Roman Catholic church, a repulsion that proved permanent. In spite of this, and his disgust at the lack of cleanliness that he encountered, Southey enjoyed himself on this visit, an enjoyment manifest in Letters Written during a Short Residence in Spain and Portugal (1797), a miscellany of verse and prose which proved quite popular and soon went into a second edition.
On his return to England, Southey and Edith began their married life in lodgings, and he embarked on his career as a professional writer. He worked on his Spanish and Portuguese Letters, wrote poetry for the Monthly Magazine, enjoyed the favourable reception that Joan of Arc received in the reviews, and, thus encouraged, went on with his next epic projects, Madoc and (somewhat later, though published first, in 1801) the Arabian tale Thalaba the Destroyer. Joan of Arc, though it had been innovative in subject, was traditional in its blank verse form. But Thalaba was written in an irregular metre that Southey had learned from Frank Sayers's Dramatic Sketches of Northern Mythology. It illustrated some aspects of Islam as Southey understood it, commending the virtues of endurance and faithfulness. The poem at its best suggests an irrepressible buoyancy, as in the hero's journey in the little boat downstream, where:
The flowing current furrow'd round
The water-lily's floating leaf
(11.34, Poems, 107)
Southey at this time needed all the resilience he could command, as his circumstances remained disquietingly unsettled. The annuity from Wynn had been offered on the understanding that Southey would study law, so when the first instalment was paid early in 1797 he moved to London and was admitted a member of Gray's Inn. But London suited neither Southey nor Edith, and after some intermediate moves they settled for a few months in Burton in Hampshire, where he made another new friend who became important to him in later years. This was John Rickman, soon to become secretary to the speaker of the House of Commons, and organizer of Britain's first census in 1801. In the next two and a half years Southey was often on the move, staying sometimes in London but more often in various parts of the south and west of England, finding indeed some sense of permanence in Martin Hall, the house he rented in Westbury-on-Trym, near Bristol, from mid-1798 to mid-1799. Throughout this time he was studying law, but devoting more and more time to literature. He had a contract to send poetry to the Morning Post, which led to his writing some of his most characteristic short lyrics. Here he showed, like Wordsworth, how far the language of the middle and lower classes was adapted to poetry. His work has less vitality, and is more conventional, than that of his rivals, which may account for his notoriously depreciatory assessment of Lyrical Ballads in the Critical Review.
Although this was a productive period, its unsettled restlessness weakened Southey's health, and made a visit to a warmer climate desirable. Once again help came from his uncle in Portugal, and he and Edith spent over a year there. By now he had conceived an ambitious project to write a history of Portugal, and he took every opportunity to collect materials, forming the nucleus of his remarkable collection of books in Spanish and Portuguese. This became a lifelong preoccupation, though the only part published was his History of Brazil (1810–19). His health much improved, he returned to England in July 1801.
Southey's friend Rickman now put him in the way of a post in the government of Ireland, recently reorganized under the Act of Union. He accepted the position of secretary to Isaac Corry, the chancellor of the exchequer there, and spent a fortnight in Dublin in October 1801. But there was no work to be done, and no prospect of any apart from serving as a tutor to Corry's son. So he resigned, the more confidently because he could already feel that his literary reputation, even notoriety, was well established. Thus, when the newly founded and instantly influential Edinburgh Review wanted to attack poetic innovation, it was by way of reviewing Thalaba (1801). Then, too, he had some unusual qualifications: in particular, his knowledge of Spanish and Portuguese, which enabled him to undertake moderately well-paid translation work, notably of Amadis of Gaul (1803), after the original by Vasco Lobeira. He was recruited by Arthur Aikin to deal with a wide range of topics for his Annual Review, and for several years this periodical was an important source of income for him.
The move to Keswick
Southey passed the winter of 1801–2 in London. It was an unhappy time, as his mother died at the beginning of January, and Edith's health was poor. In May he and Edith returned to Bristol, where in August their first child, Margaret, was born. It now became more pressing for them to find a settled residence, and Coleridge, already occupying Greta Hall in Keswick in the Lake District, urged the couple to join him and Sara there. Southey was at first unwilling because he mistrusted the climate, but when Margaret died in her first year he thought it best for Edith to be with her sister, and they moved to Keswick. It was to be the Southey home for forty years.
Coleridge's marriage had long been under severe strain, and a few months after the Southeys' arrival he left for Malta in quest of a place in the government there. Southey thus had the responsibility of looking after Coleridge's wife and three children as well as his own. In 1803 Southey, with Joseph Cottle, brought out an edition of Chatterton's poems for the benefit of the poet's family. He later performed the same service for Henry Kirke White in 1807. A second daughter, Edith May, was born to the Southeys in 1804, a son, Herbert, in 1806, then four more daughters, Emma, Bertha, Katharine, and Isabel, and, last of all, a second son, Charles Cuthbert. Southey took great pleasure in his family. As he put it in one of his last books, the rambling miscellany published as The Doctor, ‘a house is never perfectly furnished for enjoyment, unless there is a child in it rising three years old, and a kitten rising six weeks’ (chap. 130, 4.328). Few things distressed him more than the mistreatment of children, and in the same work he deplores the wanton, wicked suffering too often inflicted on them out of obduracy, caprice, stupidity, malignity, cupidity, and cruelty. He made sure that Greta Hall was a good place for young people, and the boisterous good humour that is one of the most attractive features of his work was evidently fostered by his home life. It enabled him to compose the one work of his which has proved unquestionably enduring (admittedly now in a range of corrupted texts), his magnificent version of the story of the Three Bears. Perhaps one might also add the flamboyant evocation of the cataract of Lodore:
curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing.
(Poems, 349)
Settled in Keswick, Southey came to know the Wordsworths well, at first because of their association with Coleridge, but soon, living as they did not far away in Grasmere, out of neighbourly sympathy. Through the Wordsworths he was introduced to the young Thomas De Quincey, whose vivid memories of the lake poets were later to cause great resentment. In 1805 he met Walter Scott and liked him very much, finding his conservative political outlook increasingly congenial. From the time of Southey's withdrawal from the pantisocracy scheme, his radical enthusiasm had weakened, but there were considerable fluctuations in his political sentiments. Until perhaps 1808 or 1809 he liked to think of himself as a Jacobin. Certainly many of the poems he wrote for the Morning Post in 1798 are emphatically subversive. He always insisted on free and fearless thinking in religious matters. He never modified his disparagement of William Pitt, whose war policy he abominated. In 1807 he and Wordsworth shocked De Quincey with their cheerfully irreverent republican views (De Quincey, 204–5). With the breakdown in 1803 of the brief peace of Amiens, however, he adopted the traditional British hostility to the French with enthusiasm. The hostility reached a climax in 1808 when the French invaded his beloved Spain and Portugal. From then onwards he saw the war as a crusade, and those who opposed it as little better than traitors. His most ambitious publication during this period was Madoc (1805), a long narrative celebrating the civilizing mission of virtuous Europeans in overcoming an inhumane culture in Mexico. He attached particular importance to this poem, regarding his previous work as exercises to prepare him for its composition. ‘I looked to this’, he wrote in a draft preface (prudently discarded) ‘as the monument to perpetuate my memory’ (Keswick Museum and Art Gallery, MS 221.1). The indifference of the reading public on this occasion disappointed him.
Southey's state of mind in his first years at Greta Hall emerges clearly from Letters from England (1807), the supposed work of an imaginary Spanish traveller, Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella. The temper is generally relaxed, but he finds some aspects of English life alarming, particularly in its industrial and commercial expansion. He compares commerce to a witch who has cast a baleful spell on the entire population, tainting every aspect of society. There is too much wealth and too much poverty. Only a taxation policy aimed at breaking down great properties might serve to break the enchantment. The theme of sinister magic is one to which Southey recurs in his poetry, and in this respect he may have spoken to a rather pervasive anxiety at the time. Meanwhile his work as a translator of Portuguese and Spanish came to fruition in Palmerin of England (1807) and Chronicle of the Cid (1808), a skilful fusion of several sources.
Southey would have given up writing his own poetry altogether had it not been for Walter Savage Landor, whom he met in 1808. Landor offered to subsidize the publication of any future epics, an encouragement which prompted Southey to continue writing his next major poem, The Curse of Kehama (1810). This was a romance, like Thalaba in irregular verse, taking Hinduism as a background to a story of resilient endurance. The invulnerability of the hero, Ladurlad, profoundly gratifies Southey's imagination, as does the eternal punishment inflicted on the aspiring Kehama:
And while within the burning anguish flows,
His outward body glows
Like molten ore, beneath the avenging Eye,
Doom'd thus to live and burn eternally.
(24.18, Poems, 206)
The Quarterly Review and Conservative politics
Kehama was published some two years after the outbreak of the Peninsular War, and by that time the euphoria attending its first phase was beginning to give way to an anxiety deepening to panic when he contemplated the political scene in Britain. His earlier Jacobinism ceased to appeal once he was forced to recognize that it was allied with opposition to the war. He was eager to take part in producing a new periodical, the Quarterly Review, dedicated to countering the influence of the widely read Edinburgh Review, which was proving lukewarm in its support of the Spanish patriots. While he had grave suspicions of the new journal's links with government ministers, the war issue took precedence over everything else. Besides, he was glad to strengthen the opposition to the Edinburgh politically since it had been hostile to his poetry. The pay, too, was excellent.
At the outset the tory management of the Quarterly did not trust Southey with political subjects. His first contribution was a defence of the Baptist Missionary Society, in effect a reply to a scornful article in the Edinburgh. Even here the editor excised any indication of indifference to theological orthodoxy, and Southey was furious when he saw how cruelly his article had been mutilated. He hoped for better things when, in 1811, he reviewed Charles W. Pasley's Essay on the Military Policy and Institutions of the British Empire. Pasley argued for a more aggressive war policy, with fewer scruples about conquest. Southey called in Rickman to help him with economic arguments to support Pasley's views, and although the resulting article contradicts Southey's enduring hostility to the industrial revolution, he was still gratified at the idea that he was establishing a new and less inhibited habit of thinking about the war. But once again the editor intervened: he called in J. W. Croker to tone down the more offensive passages. Southey refused to acknowledge the review as his when he saw the published version.
Southey had more freedom of expression in another publishing enterprise. This was the ‘history of the year’ that he contributed to the Edinburgh Annual Register, beginning with 1808. What he wrote in the first volume, which occupied him through the winter of 1809–10, illustrates the final phase of his radical commitment. He strongly supported the Spanish patriots, showed goodwill to the British radical reformers, censured government patronage, and admired (with some reservations) Cobbett's vigorous and fearless journalism. While he was, of course, scornful of Samuel Whitbread and the peace campaigners, and disturbed when radicals like Sir Francis Burdett supported them, the continuity with his former views is still unmistakable. But when he came to write the history of the following year, during the winter of 1810–11, he adopted an altogether different tone. He had to record the exposure of the duke of York's corrupt disposal of army commissions through his mistress, and the resulting ‘political Saturnalia’ which gave the mob an unwelcome taste of power (Edinburgh Annual Register for 1809, 1.230). As he was writing, the renewed mental illness of George III opened up the prospect of a regency and hence of a change of government, a change which might mean some weakening in the conduct of the war. By the time he had finished he was convinced that what the country needed was above all a strong leader. A regular opposition was absurd, and reform an invitation to anarchy.
This was Southey's political creed for the next two decades. It gave him little comfort, as increasingly he felt that events were moving inexorably towards a destructive revolution. His fears were reinforced in May 1812 when a failed businessman assassinated the prime minister, Spencer Perceval, and crowds rejoiced in the streets. In a succession of articles in the Quarterly he called for stern measures against agitators coupled with an attempt to reverse the fatal dependence on manufacturing industry. There were now extremes of inequality which undermined social cohesion and were intolerable. It was this revulsion against the commercial spirit that led him to endorse the egalitarian plans of Robert Owen, and to listen sympathetically to the young and fiercely radical poet Shelley when he visited Keswick in 1812.
Poet laureate
In 1813, partly through the efforts of Walter Scott, Southey was offered and accepted the post of poet laureate. His immediate predecessor, Henry James Pye, was extremely undistinguished, but Southey saw the appointment as an opportunity to offer much needed leadership to a nation threatened by catastrophic disruption. Though some of his odes dealt with traditional laureate subjects like a royal marriage, he lost no opportunity of making a (lofty) political point. He denounced the idea of negotiating with Bonaparte, celebrated the victory over France in 1814, commended programmes of emigration, and warned the nation of the dangers of faction and sedition. His last major narrative poem, Roderick, the Last of the Goths (1814), reinforced this martial message, evoking warlike passions strangely at variance with the pacifism implicit in poems like ‘The Battle of Blenheim’ of some fifteen years earlier. Admittedly the mood is very different in his Poet's Pilgrimage to Waterloo (1816), where a sad visit to the battlefield is followed by an inspiring vision of the future, of a world transformed by beneficent British rule. The Life of Nelson (1813) belongs to this period, a book which continued to find readers long after most of Southey's work was forgotten. This is understandable, for Nelson was congenial to both sides of Southey's character, the kindly and the aggressive, being a war hero who was both indomitable and affectionate.
Southey was a poet laureate who took his duties as a bulwark of good order very seriously—duties which inevitably exposed him to ridicule by those who were in opposition to the tory government. Critics accused him of absurd self-importance, and were quick to point out the contrast between his former radicalism and his present role as a courtier. The contrast was underlined in 1817 when a mischievous publisher obtained a copy of Southey's youthful play Wat Tyler and printed it. The publication was enormously successful, and was acutely embarrassing to a poet laureate, although he defended himself forcefully. In his Letter to William Smith (1817) he argued that his basic convictions had never changed. His concern had always been to remove obstacles to human progress.
The sympathy that Southey felt for Nelson does not inform the more ambitious Life of Wesley (1820), impressive though this is as a conscientious account of the rise and progress of an important religious movement. Southey is stern about Methodism's enthusiasm and extravagance, and hopes that it will see its way to becoming an auxiliary of the established church.
On one occasion, at least, Southey's standing as a champion of established institutions gained him recognition that gave him unmixed pleasure. In June 1820 his old university awarded him the degree of LLD, and at the ceremony he told his daughters, ‘there was a great clapping of hands and huzzaing at my name’ (Southey, Life and Correspondence, 5.41). But there were few cheers a year later when his laureate career reached an unhappy climax with A Vision of Judgement. This was an elaborate poem in hexameters describing the king's triumphant entry into heaven. His manifest innocence put to shame those who had so troubled him during his lifetime. Rather rashly, Southey identified political opposition with discipleship of Satan, and in the preface further attacked what he called the satanic school of poetry. Lord Byron took this personally, and in his own hugely entertaining Vision of Judgment interpreted the events imagined by Southey in a way far less flattering to the dead king. Southey's reputation has never recovered from Byron's ridicule.
Southey was unfortunate in coming to the laureate's office at a time of acute social disruption, when political conflicts were savage and apocalyptic hopes and fears all too plausible. The harsh tone of his political writing after 1812, though ugly, was a natural enough reaction to a pervasive sense of insecurity. The insecurity was intensified by distresses nearer home. His much loved son Herbert died in 1816 when only nine years old, and with his death Southey lost something of his hopes for the future.
In Southey's view the threats to order and good government continued to multiply through the 1820s. The main focus of his concern was the so-called Catholic question. Until 1829 Roman Catholics in Britain and Ireland were excluded from many public offices and were forbidden to sit in parliament. Southey strongly defended these exclusions, mainly on the ground that Ireland, where most of the Catholics lived, was a barbarous country, and Catholicism a characteristic element in the barbarity: inherently, incurably, and restlessly intolerant. Unchecked, it would threaten the whole fabric of the British constitution, and attempts at conciliation served only to whet destructive appetites. Southey's contribution to the defence was to publish The Book of the Church (1824), a history of Christianity in England. It celebrated the emergence of an established church which had shown itself the guardian of religious and political liberty. The book became the focus of fierce controversy, to which Southey responded in Vindiciae ecclesiae Anglicanae (1826), making its political significance explicit. The Catholic claims were, he said, supported by every faction, ‘every demagogue, every irreligious and every seditious journalist, every open and every insidious enemy to Monarchy and to Christianity’ (p. xvi). One of the most active opponents of concessions, the earl of Radnor, thought so well of Southey's exertions that in 1826 he had him returned as MP for Downton in Wiltshire, a borough he controlled. This happened without Southey's knowledge, and as he had no wish to embark on a career in parliament he declined the honour. Certainly he would have found it painful to witness at close quarters the spectacle, some three years later, of a tory ministry under the duke of Wellington conceding Catholic emancipation.
Man of letters and last years, 1829–1843
None the less, as the pressure towards a major reform of parliament became irresistible, Southey's alarm seems to have decreased. His Colloquies of Society (1829) is a calm exposition of his mature social and political convictions: rejection of the Catholic claims and of constitutional reform, support for high taxation to redistribute wealth, and so on. The conversations are conducted with the ghost of Sir Thomas More, whose Utopia was a remote ancestor of pantisocracy. They are set in the neighbourhood of Keswick, and the beauty of the countryside tempers the generally gloomy tone of the conversation, as does the quiet of his splendid library. ‘When I go to the window there is the lake, and the circle of the mountains, and the illimitable sky’ (Colloquies, 2.343).
This quieter mood is typical of the last phase of Southey's life. It can already be detected in his last published narrative poem, A Tale of Paraguay (1825), which shows him exploring, in greater depth than elsewhere in his work, the insecurity of the human condition, the prolonged suffering to which so many are condemned. But he could still take pleasure in the vigorous ballad mode which he had always found congenial, in such poems as ‘All for Love’ and ‘The Young Dragon’ (1829). His edition of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress appeared in 1830, and in 1831 he published the poems of an ‘old servant’, John Jones, with an essay on ‘uneducated poets’. His substantial edition of Cowper's works (1835–7) includes a sympathetic biography.
Byron said that Southey
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From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Robert Southey
21 March 1843 (aged 68)
London, England
Ebenezer Elliott , Yeats , Hart Crane , Charlotte Brontë
Robert Southey (12 August 1774 – 21 March 1843) was an English poet of the Romantic school, one of the so-called " Lake Poets ", and Poet Laureate for 30 years from 1813 to his death in 1843. Although his fame tends to be eclipsed by that of his contemporaries and friends William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge , Southey's verse enjoys enduring popularity.
Moreover, Southey was a prolific letter writer, literary scholar, essay writer, historian and biographer. His biographies include the life and works of John Bunyan , John Wesley , William Cowper , Oliver Cromwell and Horatio Nelson . The latter has rarely been out of print since its publication in 1813 and was adapted for the screen in the 1926 British film, Nelson. He was also a renowned Portuguese and Spanish scholar, translating a number of works of those two countries into English and writing both a History of Brazil (part of his planned History of Portugal which was never completed) and a History of the Peninsular War. Perhaps his most enduring contribution to literary history is the immortal children's classic, The Story of the Three Bears, the original Goldilocks story, which first saw print in 1834 in Southey's novel, The Doctor.
For the name "Southey" in the famous Domesday Book of William the Conqueror,authorised in 1086,please see "Sotebi" in Wikipedia.
Contents
7 External links
Life
Robert Southey was born in Wine Street, Bristol , England, to Thomas Southey and Margaret Hill and educated at Westminster School , London, (from which he was expelled for writing a magazine article in The Flagellant condemning flogging ) and Balliol College , Oxford (of his time at Oxford – before the era of Benjamin Jowett and the dramatic raising of standards that over the previous century had become somewhat lax – Southey was later to say "All I learnt was a little swimming ... and a little boating."). After experimenting with a writing partnership with Samuel Taylor Coleridge , most notably with the joint composition of The Fall of Robespierre, he published his first collection of poems in 1794.
The same year, he, Coleridge and a few others discussed setting up an idealistic community in America ("pantisocracy"):
Their wants would be simple and natural; their toil need not be such as the slaves of luxury endure; where possessions were held in common, each would work for all; in their cottages the best books would have a place; literature and science, bathed anew in the invigorating stream of life and nature, could not but rise reanimated and purified. Each young man should take to himself a mild and lovely woman for his wife; it would be her part to prepare their innocent food, and tend their hardy and beautiful race.
Later iterations of the plan moved the commune to Wales , but Southey was later the first of the group to reject the idea as unworkable.
In 1799, both Southey and Coleridge were involved with early experiments with nitrous oxide (laughing gas). Experiments were performed by Cornishman Humphry Davy . [1]
Southey's wife, Edith Fricker, whom he married at St. Mary Redcliffe , Bristol, on 14 November 1795, was the sister of Coleridge's wife, Sara Fricker. The Southeys set up home at Greta Hall, Keswick (pronounced Kesick), in the Lake District , living on a tiny income. Also living at Greta Hall with Southey and supported by him were Sara Coleridge and her three children following their abandonment by Coleridge and the widow of fellow poet Robert Lovell and her son.
In 1808 he became acquainted with Walter Savage Landor whose early work he had admired, and the two developed mutual admiration of each other's work and became close friends.
In 1808, Southey used the pseudonym Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella to write Letters From England, an account of a tour of the country supposedly from a foreigner's perspective. The book is said to contain a more accurate picture of English ways at the beginning of the nineteenth century than exists anywhere else. [2]
From 1809, Southey contributed to the Quarterly Review , and had become so well-known by 1813 that he was appointed Poet Laureate after Sir Walter Scott refused the post.
In 1819, through a mutual friend ( John Rickman ), Southey met leading civil engineer Thomas Telford and struck up a strong friendship. From mid-August to 1 October 1819, Southey accompanied Telford on an extensive tour of his engineering projects in the Scottish Highlands , keeping a diary of his observations. This was published posthumously in 1929 as Journal of a tour in Scotland in 1819. He was also a friend of the Dutch poet Willem Bilderdijk whom he met twice, in 1824 and 1826 at Bilderdijk's home in Leiden.
In 1837, Southey received a letter from Charlotte Bronte seeking his advice on some of her poems. He wrote back praising her talents but also discouraging her from writing professionally. He said "Literature cannot be the business of a woman's life...". Years later, Bronte remarked to a friend that the letter was "kind and admirable; a little stringent, but it did me good".
In 1838, Edith died and Southey married Caroline Anne Bowles , also a poet. Southey's mind was giving way when he wrote a last letter to his friend Landor in 1839, but he continued to mention Landor's name when generally incapable of mentioning any one. He died on 23 March 1843 and is buried in the churchyard of Crosthwaite Church, Keswick, where he worshipped for forty years. There is a memorial to him inside the church with an epitaph written by his friend, William Wordsworth.
Many of his poems are still read by British schoolchildren, the best-known being The Inchcape Rock , God's Judgement on a Wicked Bishop, After Blenheim (possibly one of the earliest anti-war poems) and Cataract of Lodore .
As a prolific writer and commentator, Southey introduced or popularised a number of words into the English language. The term 'autobiography', for example, was first used by Southey in 1809 in the Quarterly Review in which he predicted an 'epidemical rage for autobiography', which indeed has continued to the present day. Southey is also credited with penning the popular children's nursery rhyme What are Little Boys Made of? around 1820.
Major works
The Pilgrim's Progress with a Life of John Bunyan (1830)
Essays, Moral and Political (1832)
Cowper (1833)
Lives of the British Admirals (1833)
The Doctor (1834). Includes the first published version of the fairy tale -like The Three Bears .
Select Lives of Cromwell and Bunyan (1846)
Politics
A 1797 caricature of Southey's early radical poetry.
Although originally a radical supporter of the French Revolution, Southey followed the trajectory of fellow Romantic poets, Wordsworth and Coleridge , towards conservatism. Embraced by the Tory Establishment as Poet Laureate, and from 1807 in receipt of a yearly stipend from them, he vigorously supported the repressive Liverpool government. He argued against parliamentary reform ("the railroad to ruin with the Devil for driver"), blamed the Peterloo Massacre on the allegedly revolutionary "rabble" killed and injured by government troops, and opposed Catholic emancipation. In 1817 he privately proposed penal transportation for those guilty of "libel" or "sedition". He had in mind figures like Thomas Jonathan Wooler and William Hone , whose prosecution he urged. Such writers were guilty, he wrote in the Quarterly Review, of "inflaming the turbulent temper of the manufacturer and disturbing the quiet attachment of the peasant to those institutions under which he and his fathers have dwelt in peace." (Wooler and Hone were acquitted, but the threats caused another target, William Cobbett , to emigrate to the United States.)
Southey’s articles were not however merely pleas for repression and in many respects he was ahead of his time in his views on social reform. He was for example an early critic of the evils which the new factory system brought to early nineteenth-century Britain. He was appalled by the conditions of life in towns like Birmingham and Manchester and especially by the employment of children in factories and was outspoken in his criticism of these things. He sympathised with the pioneering socialist plans of Robert Owen, advocated that the state promote public works in order to maintain high employment and called for universal education [2] .
Given his departure from radicalism, and his attempts to have former fellow travellers prosecuted, it is unsurprising that contemporaries who kept the faith attacked Southey. They saw him as a selling out for money and respectability.
In 1817 Southey was confronted with the surreptitious publication of a radical play, Wat Tyler , that he had written in 1794 at the height of his radical period. This was instigated by his enemies in an attempt to embarrass the Poet Laureate and highlight his ‘apostacy’ from radical poet to supporter of the Tory establishment. One of his most savage critics was William Hazlitt . In his portrait of Southey in The Spirit of the Age wrote: "He wooed Liberty as a youthful lover, but it was perhaps more as a mistress than a bride; and he has since wedded with an elderly and not very reputable lady, called Legitimacy." Southey largely ignored his critics but was forced to defend himself when William Smith, a member of Parliament, rose in the House of Commons on 14 March to attack him. In a spirited response Southey wrote an open letter to the MP, in which he explained that he had always aimed at lessening human misery and bettering the condition of all the lower classes and that he had only changed in respect of “the means by which that amelioration was to be effected” [3] . As he put it, “that as he learnt to understand the institutions of his country, he learnt to appreciate them rightly, to love, and to revere, and to defend them.” [3]
He was often mocked for what were seen as sycophantic odes to the king, most notably in Byron 's long ironic dedication of Don Juan to Southey. In the poem Southey is dismissed as insolent, narrow and shabby. This was based both on Byron's disrespect for Southey's literary talent, and his disdain for Southey's conservative politics.
The source of much of the animosity between the two men can be traced back to Byron’s belief that Southey had spread rumours about himself and Percy Shelley being in a "League of Incest" during their time on Lake Geneva in 1816, a claim that Southey strenuously denied.
In response, Southey attacked what he called the ‘Satanic School’ among modern poets in the preface to his poem, A Vision of Judgement, written following the death of George III . While not referring to Byron by name, this was clearly directed at Byron. Byron retaliated with The Vision of Judgment , a brilliant parody of Southey's poem.
See also
^ a b Speck (2006) page 172
Further reading
Carnall, Geoffrey, Writers and Their Works: Robert Southey, (Longman Group Ltd: London 1971)
Curry, Kenneth (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 2 vols (Columbia UP: New York and London, 1965)
Dowden, Edward (ed.), The Correspondence of Robert Southey with Caroline Bowles (Dublin and London, 1881)
Low, Dennis, The Literary Protégées of the Lake Poets (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006)
Madden, John Lionel, Robert Southey: the critical heritage (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1972)
Pratt, Lynda, ed. Robert Southey, Poetical Works, 1793-1810, 5 vols. (London: Pickering and Chatto, 2004)
Simmons, Jack, Southey, (Kennikat: Washington, 1945)
Southey, Charles Cuthbert (ed.), The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey (New York, 1855).
Speck, W. A. Robert Southey: Entire Man of Letters, (Yale University Press, 2006)
External links
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Which British athlete won the Bronze medal in the 400 metre hurdles at the 1972 Munich Olympics? | UKHC ... UKHURDLESCLUB.COM ... UKHC
9.5
1968 Olympic Champion 400H champion with a new World Record, a year he set five British records at 440yrds Hurdles and five British records at 400m Hurdles, as well as winning AAA and NCAA titles.
Also set six British records at 120yrds/110m hurdles, winning two Commonwealth Games titles at the Sprint Hurdles in 1966 and again in 1970, as well as a 110H silver meal in the 1969 European Championships and the World Universiade title at the same event in 1970.
Hemery only competed at the longer event in four seasons and only one year after his Olympic triumph, returning to finish 3rd in the 1972 Munich Olympics and later set a World best in the rarely run 300m hurdles 34.6
David Hemery
Sally Gunnell
1992 Olympic and 1993 World Champion at 400H, setting in the latter a World Record 52.74. Gunnell went on to complete the full set of 400H titles winning the European in 1994 and the same year retaining the Commonwealth title she had won previously won in Auckland in 1990.
Gunnell also won the Europa Cup 400H four times having come 5th in the Seoul Olympics in her first major year at the event
A Commonwealth Games Gold medallist at 100H in 1986, Gunnell also held the British record at 100M hurdles with 12.82 in 1988., in addition to eight British records at 400H. She won seven AAA 100m hurdles [as well as two at 400H]
Won consecutive 110H medals at the European Championships in 1969 and 1971, before finally striking European Gold at 400H in 1974 - the year he also won that event in the Commonwealth Games.
Having equaled the manual British 110 record [13.9] in 1967, Pascoe set a electronic British record in the heats of the Mexico Olympics 14.01, before reaching the 1976 400H final in Montreal though hampered by injury.
Victor of three AAA Sprint hurdles titles and three 400H titles, Pascoe also won the 1973 and 1975 European Cup and a further Commonwealth Bronze in 1978 all at 400H.
Alan Pasoce
Keri Maddox
A very successful junior Sprint Hurdler, Maddox was World Junior silver medallist in 1990 and a year later was crowned European Junior champion as well as gaining a Bronze medal in the 1991 World Universiade.
Maddox went on to win the AAA senior Sprint hurdles title in 1998 and 1999, straddled by AAA 400H titles in 1997 and 2000. Represented England at both 100H & 400H in the 1998 Commonwealth Games coming 6th and 4th respectively. Again gained two event selection in the 1999 Seville World Championships, running below 13 seconds in the former, whilst making the semi finals of the latter.
Set a European Junior 110H record 13.46 in taking the Continental u20 title in 1985, the year he also claimed silver in the Senior World Indoor 60H. After a World Junior silver in 1986 [behind Colin Jackson] Ridgeon set three British 110H records [culminating with 13.29], took the World Universiade title and a silver in the 1997 Rome World Championships.
Olympic finalist in 1988 despite illness, achillies injuries blighted Ridgeon's next few years and in 1992 he switched mid season to 400H and improved tp 48.72 to come second in the World Cup. Battled back from further achillies problems and again run below 49 in 1996 and made the Atlanta Olympic 400H semi final. 1996 AAA 400H champion and 1987 AAA 110H champion.
Jon Ridgeon
Tasha Danvers
Another very successful sprint hurdler as a junior, Danvers was the 1995 European Junior Silver medallist before coming sixth in the World Juniors in Sydney the following year.
Switched to the 400H whilst studying in the USA, Danvers won three important 400H titles between 1999 and 2001; The European u23 in 1999, the NCAA's in 2000 and then the World Universiade in 2001 running 54.94 a fraction quicker than her first sub 55 second clocking achieved in qualifying for the 2000 Olympic final.
AAA 400H champion in 1998 and 2002, Danvers has also improved her Sprint hurdles performances to 12.8W and 13.20
European Junior Silver Medallist at 110H in 1977, Holtom set three of the four British 110h records set in 1982, culminating in his 13.43 for Silver in that year's Commonwealth Games. Also won the 1981 European Cup at the sprint hurdles.
Moving up to the 400H Holtom was 3rd at the 1985 European Cup, ran 49.49 in winning in Oslo and was ranked 8th in the World Merit Rankings. Fifth the following year in the 1986 Commonwealth Games.
Mark Holtom
Yvette Wray
Ran 13.50A during the Pentathlon in the 1979 World Universiade and went onto win three AAA Indoor 60H titles in 1882-84 all in identical times 8.33.
Medalled in the 1982 Commonwealth 400m Hurdles and also won three AAA 400H titles in 1983, 1985 and again in 1986, the year she again reached the Commonwealth Games final, coming 5th.
.
1924 Olympian at 110H, Cecil went on to win the Olympic 400H title in 1928 and claimed 4th place in the 1932 Games in his fastest ever time [52.01].
Won both 120 yrds and 440yrds Hurdles titles in the 1930 Empire Games. Was British record holder at 120, 220 and 440 yrds hurdles, winning five AAA titles at 440 and three at 120 yrds hurdles events.
Lord Burleigh
Louise Fraser
4th in the 100H European Junior Championships in 1989, Fraser represented England in the 1990 Commonwealth Games and claimed the 1991 UK Championship silver medallist also at the Sprint Hurdles.
At the one lap event she competed in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics and picked up two National 400H medals, a silver in the 1992 UK Championships and Bronze at the 1996 AAA Championships.
European u20 Bronze Medallist in the Sprint hurdles in 1987, Grey gained Commonwealth Bronze in that event in 1994.
His second foray at 400H saw him take the AAA title in 1998 and reach the European semi final with 49.16, then a Welsh record. Later that season just missed a medal at the 110H Commonwealth Games. Also made the World Championship team for Seville at the one lap hurdles the following year.
Paul Grey
Sharon Colyear
Set two electronic British records in a day at the 100H, running 13.21 in the heat followed by 13.11 in the final in Bydgoszcz, Poland in June 1976.
Won Commonwealth Sprint Hurdles Bronze for England in 1978, as well as Gold in the 4x100m
| David Hemery |
The author of the 1942 report ‘Social Insurance and Allied Services’, who was the first Director of the London School of Economics, in office from 1919 to 1937? | UKHC ... UKHURDLESCLUB.COM ... UKHC
9.5
1968 Olympic Champion 400H champion with a new World Record, a year he set five British records at 440yrds Hurdles and five British records at 400m Hurdles, as well as winning AAA and NCAA titles.
Also set six British records at 120yrds/110m hurdles, winning two Commonwealth Games titles at the Sprint Hurdles in 1966 and again in 1970, as well as a 110H silver meal in the 1969 European Championships and the World Universiade title at the same event in 1970.
Hemery only competed at the longer event in four seasons and only one year after his Olympic triumph, returning to finish 3rd in the 1972 Munich Olympics and later set a World best in the rarely run 300m hurdles 34.6
David Hemery
Sally Gunnell
1992 Olympic and 1993 World Champion at 400H, setting in the latter a World Record 52.74. Gunnell went on to complete the full set of 400H titles winning the European in 1994 and the same year retaining the Commonwealth title she had won previously won in Auckland in 1990.
Gunnell also won the Europa Cup 400H four times having come 5th in the Seoul Olympics in her first major year at the event
A Commonwealth Games Gold medallist at 100H in 1986, Gunnell also held the British record at 100M hurdles with 12.82 in 1988., in addition to eight British records at 400H. She won seven AAA 100m hurdles [as well as two at 400H]
Won consecutive 110H medals at the European Championships in 1969 and 1971, before finally striking European Gold at 400H in 1974 - the year he also won that event in the Commonwealth Games.
Having equaled the manual British 110 record [13.9] in 1967, Pascoe set a electronic British record in the heats of the Mexico Olympics 14.01, before reaching the 1976 400H final in Montreal though hampered by injury.
Victor of three AAA Sprint hurdles titles and three 400H titles, Pascoe also won the 1973 and 1975 European Cup and a further Commonwealth Bronze in 1978 all at 400H.
Alan Pasoce
Keri Maddox
A very successful junior Sprint Hurdler, Maddox was World Junior silver medallist in 1990 and a year later was crowned European Junior champion as well as gaining a Bronze medal in the 1991 World Universiade.
Maddox went on to win the AAA senior Sprint hurdles title in 1998 and 1999, straddled by AAA 400H titles in 1997 and 2000. Represented England at both 100H & 400H in the 1998 Commonwealth Games coming 6th and 4th respectively. Again gained two event selection in the 1999 Seville World Championships, running below 13 seconds in the former, whilst making the semi finals of the latter.
Set a European Junior 110H record 13.46 in taking the Continental u20 title in 1985, the year he also claimed silver in the Senior World Indoor 60H. After a World Junior silver in 1986 [behind Colin Jackson] Ridgeon set three British 110H records [culminating with 13.29], took the World Universiade title and a silver in the 1997 Rome World Championships.
Olympic finalist in 1988 despite illness, achillies injuries blighted Ridgeon's next few years and in 1992 he switched mid season to 400H and improved tp 48.72 to come second in the World Cup. Battled back from further achillies problems and again run below 49 in 1996 and made the Atlanta Olympic 400H semi final. 1996 AAA 400H champion and 1987 AAA 110H champion.
Jon Ridgeon
Tasha Danvers
Another very successful sprint hurdler as a junior, Danvers was the 1995 European Junior Silver medallist before coming sixth in the World Juniors in Sydney the following year.
Switched to the 400H whilst studying in the USA, Danvers won three important 400H titles between 1999 and 2001; The European u23 in 1999, the NCAA's in 2000 and then the World Universiade in 2001 running 54.94 a fraction quicker than her first sub 55 second clocking achieved in qualifying for the 2000 Olympic final.
AAA 400H champion in 1998 and 2002, Danvers has also improved her Sprint hurdles performances to 12.8W and 13.20
European Junior Silver Medallist at 110H in 1977, Holtom set three of the four British 110h records set in 1982, culminating in his 13.43 for Silver in that year's Commonwealth Games. Also won the 1981 European Cup at the sprint hurdles.
Moving up to the 400H Holtom was 3rd at the 1985 European Cup, ran 49.49 in winning in Oslo and was ranked 8th in the World Merit Rankings. Fifth the following year in the 1986 Commonwealth Games.
Mark Holtom
Yvette Wray
Ran 13.50A during the Pentathlon in the 1979 World Universiade and went onto win three AAA Indoor 60H titles in 1882-84 all in identical times 8.33.
Medalled in the 1982 Commonwealth 400m Hurdles and also won three AAA 400H titles in 1983, 1985 and again in 1986, the year she again reached the Commonwealth Games final, coming 5th.
.
1924 Olympian at 110H, Cecil went on to win the Olympic 400H title in 1928 and claimed 4th place in the 1932 Games in his fastest ever time [52.01].
Won both 120 yrds and 440yrds Hurdles titles in the 1930 Empire Games. Was British record holder at 120, 220 and 440 yrds hurdles, winning five AAA titles at 440 and three at 120 yrds hurdles events.
Lord Burleigh
Louise Fraser
4th in the 100H European Junior Championships in 1989, Fraser represented England in the 1990 Commonwealth Games and claimed the 1991 UK Championship silver medallist also at the Sprint Hurdles.
At the one lap event she competed in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics and picked up two National 400H medals, a silver in the 1992 UK Championships and Bronze at the 1996 AAA Championships.
European u20 Bronze Medallist in the Sprint hurdles in 1987, Grey gained Commonwealth Bronze in that event in 1994.
His second foray at 400H saw him take the AAA title in 1998 and reach the European semi final with 49.16, then a Welsh record. Later that season just missed a medal at the 110H Commonwealth Games. Also made the World Championship team for Seville at the one lap hurdles the following year.
Paul Grey
Sharon Colyear
Set two electronic British records in a day at the 100H, running 13.21 in the heat followed by 13.11 in the final in Bydgoszcz, Poland in June 1976.
Won Commonwealth Sprint Hurdles Bronze for England in 1978, as well as Gold in the 4x100m
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What is the current name of the area in the BBC Shipping Forecast known from 1949 to 1956 as Heligoland? | German Bight : Map (The Full Wiki)
The Full Wiki
Map showing all locations mentioned on Wikipedia article:
German Bight ( ; ; ; ) is the south-eastern bight of the North Sea
bounded by the Netherlands
and Germany
to the south, and Denmark
and Germany to the east (the Jutland peninsula ). To the north and west it is limited by the Dogger Bank
. The bight contains the Frisian and Danish Islands . The Frisian islands and the nearby coastal areas are collectively known as Frisia . The southern portion of the bight is also known as the Heligoland Bight
. Between 1949 and 1956 the BBC Sea Area Forecast used " Heligoland
" as the designation for the area known as the German Bight.
Popular culture
In the book A Kestrel for a Knave and its film version, Kes , the shipping forecast is featured in the classroom register roll call when lead character Billy Casper calls out "German Bight" after the teacher reads out the name of a pupil called Fisher. (Author Barry Hines erroneously has Billy then say that Cromarty follows German Bight.)
Further reading
| German Bight |
The music and lyrics for the National Anthem of India were written by the first non-European winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. Who was he? | Random radio jottings: A Brief History of the Shipping Forecast
A Brief History of the Shipping Forecast
There now follows a brief history of the shipping forecast:
Daventry. 5XX. 1925. Later Droitwich increasing in strength nationally.
Wartime. Sea strength rough. Visibiity poor.
Postwar. Home then Light. 1500 metres. Veering Radio 2 at 1967 later.
Station Change. Radio 4. 1978. Sailing By imminent. Continuity announcer calm.
In this post I unpick the history of the broadcasting of the shipping forecast, come to a few conclusions, correct some misconceptions and raise a few questions.
Question: When exactly was the shipping forecast first broadcast?
The answer to that one is either 89, 90 or 91 years ago.
In Charlie Connelly’s hugely enjoyable Attention All Shipping (in which he attempts to visit all the sea areas) he tells us that “the shipping forecast first appeared in something approximating its current format on January 1, 1924” with the waters round Britain divided into thirteen regions.
The Met Office elaborates on this further: “On 1 January 1924, in appreciation of the valuable help given to the meteorological service of this country by the radio weather reports from ships, a weather bulletin called Weather Shipping was started, broadcast twice daily at 0900 and 2000 GMT, from the powerful Air Ministry station G.F.A. in London, on a wavelength of 4,100 metres using CW (continuous wave) transmission which was capable of being received at a distance of up to 2,400 miles to the west and some 2,000 miles to the south”.
There are no clues as to who read these bulletins but it’s clear that the BBC didn’t get involved with them until the following year when, from October 1925, the forecast was “was broadcast by telephony from the BBC station 5XX at Daventry twice daily on 1,600 metres”. The long wave transmitter at Daventry had been in operation since July of that year and provided excellent coverage to most of the UK.
The BBC Handbook from 1928 tells us more about the ‘Daventry shipping forecasts’: “This forecast briefly covers the various coastal areas, giving probable weather and winds. When it is given for the first time, at 10.30 a.m., it is read twice – once at normal speed and again at long-hand dictation speed so that ships’ captains may have it taken down for reference”.
Meanwhile, a quick check of the BBC Genome website reveals that the first listing of a shipping forecast in the Radio Times is at 21.10 on 14 February 1926 on the 5XX station. So the shipping forecast started in either 1924, 1925 or 1926, take your pick.
What we do know is that the shipping forecasts continued on 5XX from Daventry until 6 September 1934 when the National Programme switched to the new Droitwich transmitter on the now familiar 1500 metres long wave. Those forecasts stopped for the duration of the war, the last being 2 September 1939, and resumed on the cessation of hostilities on 3 June 1945.
Question: Has the shipping forecast always being carried on long wave?
That’s a clear and definite no. When the bulletins returned after the Second World War it was on the Home Service, at that time on a number of medium wave frequencies, and not the Light Programme. It continued on the Home Service for the next eleven years.
There had already been a re-drawing of the shipping areas in 1949 but further tweaks were discussed in 1955 and implemented the following year. They included Heligoland becoming German Bight, Iceland renamed South East Iceland and the dividing of Dogger and Forties to create the new areas of Fisher and Viking. To coincide with the changes the BBC moved the shipping forecast from the Home Service to the Light Programme on 1500 metres from Sunday 22 April 1956. To mark the occasion there was even a one-off 10 minute programme on long wave just before Two-Way Family Favourites titled Ships at Sea. Presented by announcer Sandy Grandison for the “benefit of landlubbers” seamen gave their points of view on the importance of the new shipping areas.
At this juncture it’s also worth mentioning the other shipping forecast, that for coastal waters, later referred to as the Inshore Forecast. This was first heard nationally on the Home Service on 6 March 1965. That week’s Radio Times explained: “Additional informal shipping forecasts for coastal waters will be broadcast as from tonight, just before close-down on most Home Service wavelengths – normally at about 11.45. These forecasts are being issued by the Meteorological Office at the request of the BBC”. It went on to say that listeners in Northern Ireland would get their own bulletin whilst the Scottish Home Service, which already enjoyed this service, would have the forecast at a fixed time.
Meanwhile the shipping forecast over on the Light Programme made the transition to Radio 2 in September 1967. Here’s the bulletin read by Douglas Smith on the morning of 2 January 1970.
Question: When was the final shipping forecast on Radio 2?
Well if your answer is November 1978 then you’re kinda right but also technically wrong.
The shake-up of the wavelengths in 1978 meant that 1500 metres long wave would become the new home for “Radio 4 UK”. On the evening of Wednesday 22 November 1978 Jimmy Kingsbury, the then Presentation Editor for Radio 2, read the final Radio 2 long wave only shipping forecast during the John Dunn show.
And here at midnight-fifteen on 23 November is part of the first Radio 4 forecast with David Symonds.
Although Jimmy Kingsbury had been a continuity announcer for many years, by 1978 he rarely appeared on air but managed to add his name to the rota for that final long wave forecast and the following morning to open up Radio 2 on VHF and the new medium wave frequencies. But in fact it wasn’t Jimmy’s final shipping forecast nor was it the last forecast on Radio 2. That happened just over a year later. Here’s why.
On Monday 17 December 1979, 90 mph winds battered the country and one casualty was the long wave transmitter. The following day The Times reported that “More than a million Radio 4 listeners were left without sound when the transmitter at Droitwich, which serves England and Wales, collapsed”.
As a consequence Radio 4 couldn’t broadcast the 17.50 shipping forecast on long wave and it fell to Radio 2 to air it on the medium wave. My notes from the time read: “Mon 1750-55 Jimmy Kinsgbury. Shipping forecast, R4 LW aerial blown down.” The Droitwich transmitter was out of action for a few days and Jimmy’s name appears again for the 17.50 forecasts on Wednesday and Thursday (I have no record for Tuesday). I can only assume that the other forecasts went out on Radio 4 VHF/FM only. Does anyone remember?
Question: Has Sailing By always preceded the late shipping forecast on Radio 4?
Ronald Binge’s soothing waltz is firmly associated in the public consciousness with the end of the day on Radio 4 but for a while in 1993 it was dropped from weekday schedules, seemingly to save money.
Writing for the Radio Waves column of The Sunday Times on 29 August 1993, Roland White (who was not a fan of the tune, likening it to the Grim Reaper’s theme song) observed that Sailing By had sailed into the sunset: “Not so that Radio 4 listeners could fall into cheerful sleep, but to save money. Each time Sailing By was played, Radio 4 paid a royalty to Mrs Vera Binge, widow of composer Ronald Binge, who wrote the tune to celebrate his love of the sea. Michael Green, controller of Radio 4, dropped Sailing By as a cost-cutting measure, but he will allow it to be played on weekends and bank holidays, when the news is normally shorter. Fans can stay up specially”.
Needless to say there was a public outcry from the ever vociferous Radio 4 listeners and Sailing By was re-instated some months later, though I’ve seen one online source that puts the length of this ‘no-play’ period as two years.
Simon Elmes’s book And Now on Radio 4 also recalls the storm in a teacup about Sailing By, though seems to get his wires crossed: “Three years before (James) Boyle took his hot seat in the controller’s office, a storm force 10 had broken out over a plan to axe the tune. Marion Greenwood was the press office in the firing line: ‘I don’t think we had quite expected the huge great onslaught that there was, because it was just this bit of music!’ The move wasn’t just a whim on the part of the controller, Michael Green. He need to make some space (and save some cash - £30,000 in royalties no less) to schedule his Late Book, and the fixed timing of the forecast (in those days fifteen minutes earlier at midnight-thirty) made it all just too tight to have Sailing By as well”.
There’s a small flaw in this description. The Late Book didn’t appear in Radio 4’s schedules until October 1995, some two years later. And indeed there was an outcry about that at the time, but that was because the new programme delayed the shipping forecast by a further 15 minutes. The Radio Times reported that the time shift “has upset some mariners, not to mention listeners’ group, Radio 4 Watch”.
Question: When was Sailing By first used as a prelude to the late-night shipping forecast?
The recognised date for the first appearance of Sailing By before the shipping forecast is 23 November 1978 (listen to my recording of it above). Even then, printed sources seem confused about this.
Peter Jefferson, a continuity voice long associated with reading the forecast, wrote And Now the Shipping Forecast in 2011. On the use of Sailing By Jefferson states that “in 1967 Jim Black, the Presentation Editor of Radio 4, chose it as a piece to precede the shipping forecast. It proved to be a remarkably enduring choice…” Unfortunately this is misleading, perhaps it’s just a typo. The shipping forecast wasn’t on Radio 4 in 1967 and neither was Jim Black the Presentation Editor in that year. Separate network Presentation Editor posts were not created until 1972 and Black joined Radio 4 from Staff Training, prior to that he’d worked as a studio manager in London and then a producer at the newly established Radio Merseyside.
And Now on Radio 4 has this to say on the matter: “It sailed on to Radio 4’s airwaves as a timing buffer for the shipping forecast (which must start on the dot at midnight-forty-eight) when Radio 4 acquired the BBC’s long wave frequency in 1978.” Indeed the November 1978 schedules list “followed by an interlude” between the midnight news and weather and, as it was then timed, the midnight-fifteen forecast. But before the change from medium wave to long wave Radio 4 had carried the Inshore Forecast at the end of its broadcasting day, following the 23.30 News and Weather – no late nights for the network back then – and there was an interlude until the Inshore Forecast at 00.20. Did that interlude include Sailing By? Perhaps those of you with longer memories or recordings of Radio 4 output could enlighten.
Just to confuse the issue Paul Donovan’s The Radio Companion tells us that Sailing By is a “soothing instrumental lullaby … which has been used to close down Radio 4 since 1973”. Pedants will note that Sailing By has never closed the network, that’s the National Anthem of course.
The mention of 1973 is apposite. Firstly from 1 October that year there was a Radio 4 schedule change that saw the Closedown and Inshore Forecast swapped round. Previously the programmes ran, with some very precise timings, as: 23.15 News preceded by Weather, 23.31 Market Trends, 23.36 Closedown and 23.45-23.48 Inshore Forecast. From October this changed to: 23.30 News preceded by Weather, 23.46 Inshore forecast, 23.49 Closedown.
In addition in October 1973 BBC Records issued a single version of Sailing By played by the John Fox Orchestra. Coincidence?
Interestingly it seems that Sailing By was not unknown to radio audiences prior to its use on Radio 4. As I’ve previously mentioned the tune cropped up on Tony Brandon’s midday show on Radio 2 in 1972 and 1973 when he used it as background music to a daily gardening spot with a character called Ebeneezer Growmore.
So there you have it: a few questions answered and a few unanswered ones too. One final question: how well do you know your shipping areas? The colour map at the top of this post comes from a 1995 edition of the Radio Times, but one area was inadvertently missed. Can you spot the missing one?
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What is the name of the TV detective played by Idris Elba? | Idris Elba, star of The Wire, to play detective for BBC - Telegraph
Celebrity news
Idris Elba, star of The Wire, to play detective for BBC
Idris Elba, star of The Wire, will play the lead role in the first BBC One crime series based on a black detective.
Fans of The Wire will know Idris Elba as Russell 'Stringer' Bell
7:00AM BST 04 Sep 2009
He has been cast in Luther, a gritty police series set in London and created by Neil Cross, the writer of Spooks.
Fans of The Wire will know Elba as Russell 'Stringer' Bell, a drug lord from the mean streets of Baltimore. His American accent was so convincing that many US viewers were unaware that the actor is British and hails from Hackney, east London.
His new BBC One character, John Luther, is a "near-genius" murder squad detective who may have more in common with Bell than Inspector Morse and other traditional TV sleuths.
Elba said: "I'm really excited about playing Luther. He's a challenging and exciting character because he's so complex. While he's capable of great kindness and loyalty, sometimes he steps over the edge of madness - simmering with anger and rage."
The series is set in modern-day London and each episode will see Luther tracking down a killer.
Related Articles
| List of Luther characters |
‘h = 6.62 × 10–27 erg.sec’ is engraved on whose tomb in Göttingen, Germany? | BBC One - Luther - DCI John Luther
Read more about sharing.
DCI John Luther
Having left the Met behind him, Luther is living in a remote coastal cottage trying to forget about his old life and look to a different sort of future.
But can a man like Luther ever escape his past?
Soon enough, Luther is propelled back to the streets of London, drawn into a horrifying case that both baffles and revolts him. While he hunts the bloody trail of a brutal serial killer, his past just won’t let him go.
Idris Elba
Golden Globe-winning and Emmy nominated actor Idris Elba showcases his creative versatility both on-screen in television and film as well as behind the camera as a producer and director. He continues to captivate audiences and secure his position as the one to watch in Hollywood, with a string of well-received performances in high-profile films as well as and multiple critically acclaimed television series.
In 2013, Elba received critical acclaim as Nelson Mandela in The Weinstein Company’s biopic Mandela: The Long Walk to Freedom. His performance earned him a Golden Globe nomination and an NAACP Image Award nomination. In September 2014, he starred in and executive produced No Good Deed, a thriller also starring Taraji P. Henson. In 2015 Elba and his production company Green Door Pictures released the documentary Mandela, My Dad and Me, which follows Elba during the making of his album “mi Mandela.” Elba will next be seen in Beasts of No Nation, directed by Cary Fukunaga, James Watkin’s Bastille Day and Jon Favreau’s The Jungle Book. Elba is currently in production on Star Trek Beyond.
Elba’s performance as DCI Luther has earned him two NAACP Image Awards, a BET Award, a Golden Globe, as well as three Emmy nominations.
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In the painting ‘Mr and Mrs Andrews’ by Thomas Gainsborough, what is the man carrying? | Thomas Gainsborough: a modern genius | Global | The Guardian
Picture gallery: have your own private view of the exhibition
Perdita - "the lost one" - sits in a mossy bower, on an earth ledge, alone except for her loyal Pomeranian dog. In her hand she holds a locket, opened to reveal the blurred face of George, Prince of Wales, who commissioned Thomas Gainsborough's portrait of his lover in 1781.
Mary Robinson - nicknamed Perdita after her performance in The Winter's Tale at Drury Lane Theatre - was one of those self-invented individuals who made 18th-century Britain such an effervescent, commercial, cynical, corrupt, celebrity-conscious, shallow, competitive, socially mobile, dangerous place - a mirror of ourselves. Raised in seedy circumstances, she married one Thomas Robinson when she was 15. Within months, Thomas was imprisoned for debt and Mary had to fend for herself with three talents - for poetry, acting and sex.
Her first book of poems was published in 1775. Her performing skills were noticed by the actor and theatre manager David Garrick. But it was her beauty, her way of carrying herself - she always had "a sort of dignified air", she said - that got her a string of male friends eager to help, libertines such as the politician Charles James Fox and playwright and manager of the Drury Lane Theatre, Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
When the love affair between Perdita and the Prince of Wales became public in 1780, she was the talk of the town - satirised in prints, gossiped about in Vauxhall Gardens and St James's Park; she quit the stage, threw away a promising career for her new role as royal mistress. And yet by the time George commissioned Gainsborough to paint her portrait, the affair was over - he had a new fling, and Perdita had lost everything: her acting career was wrecked, she was massively in debt and soon to be bounced between a string of high-profile lovers.
Thomas Gainsborough, the artist who loved women, was the man to paint Perdita. Uninhibited about the eroticism of his culture, and at the same time someone with a heart, he was her perfect myth-maker. Not that he didn't have competition; she posed for all three of the leading portrait artists of the day - the slightly cheaper George Romney, then Gainsborough, then the most prestigious of all, Sir Joshua Reynolds, president of the Royal Academy. All three portraits hang today in the Wallace Collection in London, but Gainsborough's is in a class of its own. He communicates what her story was about - desire, glamour and loss.
It's a strange, heady painting. She looks drugged, ecstatic, disengaged from the real, transported into a realm of fantasy. You have to look for only a few seconds to realise that this is not a realistic painting of a woman in a landscape; the trees and grass do not even attempt to imitate appearances. They are dream images - the trees have a deliciously light blue, sketchy quality, as if painted on silk, and the canopy of foliage around Perdita forms itself, as if by magic, into a natural enclosure. Nature has moulded itself to the shape of her feeling. It enfolds and decorates her, amplifies her thoughts. This is a modern painting, if the definition of modern art is that it acknowledges the subjective emotions of the artist rather than claiming to present eternal facts. Gainsborough's rival, Sir Joshua Reynolds, was a champion of permanent, classical values. Gainsborough was the opposite. He painted contingent, ephemeral pleasures - the shimmering stuff of Perdita's skirts, the blue ribbon over her creamy chest.
Gainsborough longs for Perdita and in doing so, does something chivalrous - he paints on behalf of Mary Robinson rather than fulfilling the requirements of her ex-lover. George wanted the picture as a souvenir of his grand amour; a trophy to hang on the wall. But instead of giving him Mrs Robinson stuffed and mounted, Gainsborough dramatises her beauty, sensitivity, sexuality, expressing his own feelings about her and offering the prince visual evidence that he has made a mistake in casting her off. You idiot, Your Highness, is the painting's message.
In 1818, now Prince Regent and with many more scandals under his belt, George gave the portrait away. Perdita lived until 1800 and became a well-known writer, keeping to the liberal politics of her one-time lover, Charles James Fox, moving in circles sympathetic to the French Revolution; in 1799 she published A Letter To The Women Of England On The Injustice Of Mental Subordination. She died poor, remembered by just a handful of friends, including the radical philosopher William Godwin and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who said, "I never knew a human being with so full a mind." Gainsborough's portrait of Perdita is about her mind, her imagination, and her sexuality as mental rather than just physical, an audacious painting that contemporaries found too close to the bone - a rare failure, they said. Today it is the kind of work that lifts Gainsborough far above his contemporaries.
There are only a handful of British artists you can put in the pantheon of geniuses, in the same category as Rembrandt, Titian, Goya, Picasso. Turner and Constable have a safe claim; Hogarth is there, too. But I believe the most brilliant British painter to be Thomas Gainsborough. Born the son of a failed cloth merchant in the Suffolk market town of Sudbury in 1727, Gainsborough was trained in London by the French artist Hubert Gravelot and spent years patiently building up his portrait business, first in Suffolk, then from 1759 in fashionable Bath, before finally arriving as one of London's star painters in the 1770s. He was a steady, modest, self-consciously professional man, yet for all his lack of pretension, he is the most sophisticated of the great British artists.
He is also the most modern, the one who is our contemporary, like Goya is our contemporary. Both were precociously individual artists, whose paintings - even commissioned portraits at which they both excelled - insist in every brushstroke on a personal vision, a silent inspection of the world by a mind that does not have to put its ideas into words.
The intimacy of Gainsborough's portraits is provocative, still, long after the painter and his subjects have gone. The way Mary Linley looks at you, at Gainsborough, in the portrait of her and her sister Elizabeth, which he did in about 1772, is too much. It's embarrassing, such frank eye contact with a ghost. The Linley sisters were singers, members of a famous musical family Gainsborough befriended. You can't help feeling that he was getting a little too cordial with the sisters. He turns them into gorgeous nymphs in a shining, satin, fantasy pastoral. The flirtation he sees in Mary's eyes turns what might have been a sedate double portrait into a speculation, a daydream on his part - what if?
Bath, where Gainsborough and the Linleys lived in the early 1770s, was shortly to find out what if. But Gainsborough was wrong about which sister was flighty. It was the elder Elizabeth who scandalised Bath when she eloped with Sheridan. Her father was outraged. Only when Sheridan made a fortune with The Rivals - based on his own courtship, in which he defeated his sleazy rival, Captain Mathews, in a duel - did Thomas Linley make up. He became Sheridan's partner, running the Drury Lane Theatre. Gainsborough reports the scandal in one of his gossipy, whimsical letters, written in a style that communicates his impulsive, passionate, slightly breathless personality. "Miss Linley is walk'd off sure enough with young Sheridan," he eagerly relates, "but He is not at the bottom of the mischief. Mathews is the scoundrel supposed (and with much reason) to have undone the poor Girl - it vexes me much. I could fight about it, because I was just finishing her picture for the [Royal Academy] Exhibition."
By the time Gainsborough did paint a great, solitary portrait of Elizabeth in 1785/6, she was older, sadder - and Gainsborough's painting feels for her. Sheridan became famous as an MP as well as a theatre grandee, but he suppressed Elizabeth's singing career and was serially unfaithful; their private life was dominated by debt. In Gainsborough's painting, Elizabeth sits in a windswept landscape, looking at us wistfully - her hands fiddle at her diaphanous shawl, her expression that of someone on the point of unburdening herself to us.
This was Gainsborough's world. These were the people he knew. Sometimes Gainsborough's account of his world seems so naked, so acute, that you can't quite believe he painted the way he did and got away with it. Some people won't believe it and refuse to accept that there is anything odd, anything satirical, about Gainsborough's early portrait Mr And Mrs Andrews, of a landed couple on their estate just outside his home town, Sudbury. Gainsborough's early style - crisply precise, coolly informative - has a pop art immediacy; he pulls no punches. Mr Robert Andrews, a landed gentleman, is a blunt, aggressive figure; he holds a menacing shotgun. He's been hunting, but looks as if he'd shoot a poacher as happily as a rabbit. His young wife, Frances Mary Carter, is dressed inappropriately for the East Anglian outdoors; her skirt billows comically against the cold, fresh, wet sky. The landscape is perfect in its British toughness and cloudy beauty - and is explicitly a farmed, enclosed estate.
It was the Marxist art critic John Berger who established this painting as a contemporary icon in his 1970s TV series Ways Of Seeing. Mr and Mrs Andrews, he noticed, "are not a couple in nature as Rousseau imagined nature. They are landowners and their proprietary attitude towards what surrounds them is visible in their stance and expressions."
Some scholars can't reconcile this hard political language with the extreme loveliness of Gainsborough's little blue and green treasure of a painting; such a tender, loving landscape, a deeply personal record of the countryside in which he grew up. But Gainsborough's painting is edgy, composed so as to question the relationship of figure and landscape. He shoves his subjects to the side; they are at odds with, rather than part of, the land and sky sweeping away from them. In their posh clothes, they look artificial, unconvincing.
Gainsborough hated rich clients. His letters are full of loathing for the "gentlemen" who came to his studio expecting him to pay court, to flatter, to play the servant. "They think (and so may you for a while) that they reward your merit by their company and notice," he advised a friend, "but I know that they have only one part worth looking at, and that is their purse." He gave his servant orders to ask any gentlemen who came to his house what they desired of Mr Gainsborough; if they wanted to commission a portrait, they were to be let in, but if they just wanted to talk to the celebrity artist and boast about their Grand Tour and whatnot, the servant was to send them packing. "Now if a Lady a handsome Lady comes 'tis as much as his Life is worth to send them away so."
His greatest portraits are the ones in which he celebrates something different from the run-of-the-mill gentleman. They are paintings of the flotsam and jetsam of 18th-century society, ladies of dubious reputation, musicians and artists who made an insecure living, the crazy inventors and people he admired for private reasons, such as the doctors who helped him with his lifelong ailments and illnesses which he picked up (or thought he picked up) when meeting "venuses" in London brothels.
He delights in turning expectations upside down, revealing the serious in the trivial and the trivial in the serious, mixing the real and the fantastic; the very texture of his paintings is playful, paradoxical, and warns us not to take the eye's information for granted. Close up, his pictures make no sense. His mature paintings are constructed with painterly, flamboyant, abstract marks that touch animals, trees, dresses into existence in a complicated, tricksy way - when you go up close to The Watering Place (c.1774-7) in the National Gallery, a cow turns out to be an outrageous smear on the surface of the picture, leaves are light, bouncy flourishes. Brushstrokes sit cockily proud of the painting, creating an irregular texture so that close to, the light hits the picture unevenly and breaks it to pieces - only details, notably faces, are recognisable in the abstract play of light and shade. These later paintings are grand, physically; they impose themselves on space and create a vertiginous sense of height, when you look up at the tall hairdos and flouncy hats and silver clouds, almost like the ceiling paintings of Tiepolo.
The aesthetic game going on here, in paintings made at the dawn of the Romantic period, has its origins earlier in the 18th century. If Gainsborough influenced Goya, the painter who inspired his own visual world was the delicately poetic French genius Jean-Antoine Watteau. Watteau died in 1721, in his mid-30s, leaving a troubled, alienated view of the world contained in fantastic, suggestive scenes of lovers in parks, commedia dell'arte players, melancholy companies. Watteau's painted landscape is perfumed, unreal, with fancy costumes, erotic themes. Watteau is the definition of the decorative, self-mocking style known as rococo.
Gainsborough is a rococo painter. He learned the style from his French teacher; but he saw the potential radicalism beneath the flouncy surface, that Watteau's world is full of ironies and unexpected interventions by the real. Images of sexuality, class and poverty haunt Watteau's reveries - as they haunt Gainsborough's.
Rococo was the last style of traditional courtly art, but more and more, as you look at it, it was the first modern art. Rococo's imaginary parkland is socially ambiguous: the people parading in fine dresses might be ladies or prostitutes, the harlequins courting them might be lords or servants. In London, masked balls, the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall and Ranelagh, or St James's Park, were rococo social spaces where money could wash away class identity, where the aristocracy mingled with the scum.
But it was Gainsborough who played the game of disguised social commentary with an exquisite touch. In his early painting Cornard Wood ("Gainsborough's Forest", c.1746-7), he creates a tangled, knotted vision of a woodland just outside Sudbury. It was a place used as common land - the land on which, traditionally, the poor had rights to chop wood, hunt, gather food; "customs in common" as the radical historian EP Thompson called the communal practices of the British countryside which were being eroded by enclosures and capitalist farming.
It is striking, and has to mean something, that Gainsborough populates Cornard Wood with the rural poor, doing all the things they had the right to do on common land. The painting looks today like the flipside of Mr And Mrs Andrews - both depict Gainsborough's native countryside, yet the landed couple dominate their world while the common people are part of Cornard Wood, at one with it. Gainsborough painted this community in the woods again and again. His later landscapes are less realistic, more openly fantasist images of a soft woody world in which, as in The Market Cart (1786) in the National Gallery, countryfolk travel a shady road nuzzled, protected, by an oaky British forest.
Nature - the woozy, leafily stylised nature that decorates almost all his portraits - is for Gainsborough a kind of screen on which all manner of desires and fears can be projected, like the peepshow he made, showing paintings on glass, backlit. Some of his most revealingly emotional uses of nature are in paintings of his own family. In 1746 Thomas Gainsborough married Margaret Burr, the illegitimate daughter of an aristocrat. They soon had a baby, Mary, but she died in 1748. Gainsborough's Portrait Of The Artist With His Wife And Daughter, done probably in the same year, appears to be a posthumous picture of Mary with her grief-stricken parents - at least that would explain their depressed, distracted looks, and their distance from one another, as if the dead baby has come between them. Their expressions are dismal. Thomas looks past us sadly, pointlessly, his red jacket not properly buttoned, his hat raked disconsolately, while Margaret looks nowhere. The dead child is the only human who looks at us - the dog also looks at us, cheekily, ignorant of what afflicts his mistress and master. The landscape in which they sit is a devastating reflection of their feelings; the tree half-bare, the pool dreary, the sky unhealthy, suicidal. It's a dreadful painting to see from the hand of the rococo celebrant of dresses, powders, silks and smiles.
Gainsborough and his wife had two more, surviving daughters, the first also named Mary, and then Margaret. His paintings of them are unnerving in their uninhibited love and clear-eyed recognition of fragility. In his most glorious portrait of his children, The Painter's Daughters Chasing A Butterfly (c. 1756), they pursue a winged image of ephemerality through a darkened garden; they are lit magically and entrancingly, yet all around them are deep, impenetrable shadows. They are moving forward, into life, out of the protection of their parents, into a future as breakable as a butterfly's wing.
He was right to be anxious. There wasn't much place for the talented daughters of an artist in a society full of brutal class and gender distinctions. As he recognised and tried to tell his class-addled friends, gentlemen and artists did not belong to the same world; he tried to train his daughters for professional careers as artists, and dreamt that they could make a living as landscape painters. Instead they got caught up in high society without being part of it; they were treated at Bath and at court as performing freaks, and ended up living together, regarded as lonely eccentrics.
In 1788, Gainsborough died of a cancer that his doctors - who weren't as good as he thought - insisted wasn't serious. One of his last letters, written when his "poor Crazy Frame" was racked with pain, captures his irrepressible fantasy and lightness of spirit. "I am so childish," he says, "that I could make a Kite, catch Gold Finches, or build little Ships."
Sir Joshua Reynolds, whom you suspect never flew a kite in his life, delivered a generous but patronising oration after Gainsborough's death, praising a man he saw as his nearest rival, yet without any doubt that history would regard Gainsborough as in the top of the second rank - a bit of an eccentric. All those odd scratchy marks and wayward brushstrokes. Today it is as hard to love Reynolds as it is to resist Gainsborough.
British art, from Hogarth to Hirst, often seems to be characterised by a grainy harshness; an anger, a moral fury that is there in Constable's scrawled late paintings such as Hadleigh Castle, in Turner's storms, in Bacon, in Rachel Whiteread's House. But it's not in Gainsborough at all. He's a glorious contradiction of clichéd notions of national identity, with none of that Protestant iconoclasm; he never hints at moral condemnation, never sees anyone in an intolerant, prudish way.
He rarely got the big public commissioned portraits that went to Reynolds. The president of the Royal Academy argued that art should record great moments of history, and in the National Gallery you can see his noble image of one of Perdita's most feckless lovers, Banastre Tarleton, as war hero; sword, uniform, the insignia of history. Gainsborough recorded other faces, another history - Perdita sitting in her woodland bower, for ever young - and it is his account we believe
· Gainsborough, sponsored by the British Land Company plc, opens at Tate Britain, Millbank, London SW1, on October 24. Advance booking: Ticketmaster, 0870 166 8283.
| Shotgun |
Part of the East Coast Main Line, which river is crossed by the Royal Border Bridge? | Thomas Gainsborough: a modern genius | Global | The Guardian
Picture gallery: have your own private view of the exhibition
Perdita - "the lost one" - sits in a mossy bower, on an earth ledge, alone except for her loyal Pomeranian dog. In her hand she holds a locket, opened to reveal the blurred face of George, Prince of Wales, who commissioned Thomas Gainsborough's portrait of his lover in 1781.
Mary Robinson - nicknamed Perdita after her performance in The Winter's Tale at Drury Lane Theatre - was one of those self-invented individuals who made 18th-century Britain such an effervescent, commercial, cynical, corrupt, celebrity-conscious, shallow, competitive, socially mobile, dangerous place - a mirror of ourselves. Raised in seedy circumstances, she married one Thomas Robinson when she was 15. Within months, Thomas was imprisoned for debt and Mary had to fend for herself with three talents - for poetry, acting and sex.
Her first book of poems was published in 1775. Her performing skills were noticed by the actor and theatre manager David Garrick. But it was her beauty, her way of carrying herself - she always had "a sort of dignified air", she said - that got her a string of male friends eager to help, libertines such as the politician Charles James Fox and playwright and manager of the Drury Lane Theatre, Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
When the love affair between Perdita and the Prince of Wales became public in 1780, she was the talk of the town - satirised in prints, gossiped about in Vauxhall Gardens and St James's Park; she quit the stage, threw away a promising career for her new role as royal mistress. And yet by the time George commissioned Gainsborough to paint her portrait, the affair was over - he had a new fling, and Perdita had lost everything: her acting career was wrecked, she was massively in debt and soon to be bounced between a string of high-profile lovers.
Thomas Gainsborough, the artist who loved women, was the man to paint Perdita. Uninhibited about the eroticism of his culture, and at the same time someone with a heart, he was her perfect myth-maker. Not that he didn't have competition; she posed for all three of the leading portrait artists of the day - the slightly cheaper George Romney, then Gainsborough, then the most prestigious of all, Sir Joshua Reynolds, president of the Royal Academy. All three portraits hang today in the Wallace Collection in London, but Gainsborough's is in a class of its own. He communicates what her story was about - desire, glamour and loss.
It's a strange, heady painting. She looks drugged, ecstatic, disengaged from the real, transported into a realm of fantasy. You have to look for only a few seconds to realise that this is not a realistic painting of a woman in a landscape; the trees and grass do not even attempt to imitate appearances. They are dream images - the trees have a deliciously light blue, sketchy quality, as if painted on silk, and the canopy of foliage around Perdita forms itself, as if by magic, into a natural enclosure. Nature has moulded itself to the shape of her feeling. It enfolds and decorates her, amplifies her thoughts. This is a modern painting, if the definition of modern art is that it acknowledges the subjective emotions of the artist rather than claiming to present eternal facts. Gainsborough's rival, Sir Joshua Reynolds, was a champion of permanent, classical values. Gainsborough was the opposite. He painted contingent, ephemeral pleasures - the shimmering stuff of Perdita's skirts, the blue ribbon over her creamy chest.
Gainsborough longs for Perdita and in doing so, does something chivalrous - he paints on behalf of Mary Robinson rather than fulfilling the requirements of her ex-lover. George wanted the picture as a souvenir of his grand amour; a trophy to hang on the wall. But instead of giving him Mrs Robinson stuffed and mounted, Gainsborough dramatises her beauty, sensitivity, sexuality, expressing his own feelings about her and offering the prince visual evidence that he has made a mistake in casting her off. You idiot, Your Highness, is the painting's message.
In 1818, now Prince Regent and with many more scandals under his belt, George gave the portrait away. Perdita lived until 1800 and became a well-known writer, keeping to the liberal politics of her one-time lover, Charles James Fox, moving in circles sympathetic to the French Revolution; in 1799 she published A Letter To The Women Of England On The Injustice Of Mental Subordination. She died poor, remembered by just a handful of friends, including the radical philosopher William Godwin and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who said, "I never knew a human being with so full a mind." Gainsborough's portrait of Perdita is about her mind, her imagination, and her sexuality as mental rather than just physical, an audacious painting that contemporaries found too close to the bone - a rare failure, they said. Today it is the kind of work that lifts Gainsborough far above his contemporaries.
There are only a handful of British artists you can put in the pantheon of geniuses, in the same category as Rembrandt, Titian, Goya, Picasso. Turner and Constable have a safe claim; Hogarth is there, too. But I believe the most brilliant British painter to be Thomas Gainsborough. Born the son of a failed cloth merchant in the Suffolk market town of Sudbury in 1727, Gainsborough was trained in London by the French artist Hubert Gravelot and spent years patiently building up his portrait business, first in Suffolk, then from 1759 in fashionable Bath, before finally arriving as one of London's star painters in the 1770s. He was a steady, modest, self-consciously professional man, yet for all his lack of pretension, he is the most sophisticated of the great British artists.
He is also the most modern, the one who is our contemporary, like Goya is our contemporary. Both were precociously individual artists, whose paintings - even commissioned portraits at which they both excelled - insist in every brushstroke on a personal vision, a silent inspection of the world by a mind that does not have to put its ideas into words.
The intimacy of Gainsborough's portraits is provocative, still, long after the painter and his subjects have gone. The way Mary Linley looks at you, at Gainsborough, in the portrait of her and her sister Elizabeth, which he did in about 1772, is too much. It's embarrassing, such frank eye contact with a ghost. The Linley sisters were singers, members of a famous musical family Gainsborough befriended. You can't help feeling that he was getting a little too cordial with the sisters. He turns them into gorgeous nymphs in a shining, satin, fantasy pastoral. The flirtation he sees in Mary's eyes turns what might have been a sedate double portrait into a speculation, a daydream on his part - what if?
Bath, where Gainsborough and the Linleys lived in the early 1770s, was shortly to find out what if. But Gainsborough was wrong about which sister was flighty. It was the elder Elizabeth who scandalised Bath when she eloped with Sheridan. Her father was outraged. Only when Sheridan made a fortune with The Rivals - based on his own courtship, in which he defeated his sleazy rival, Captain Mathews, in a duel - did Thomas Linley make up. He became Sheridan's partner, running the Drury Lane Theatre. Gainsborough reports the scandal in one of his gossipy, whimsical letters, written in a style that communicates his impulsive, passionate, slightly breathless personality. "Miss Linley is walk'd off sure enough with young Sheridan," he eagerly relates, "but He is not at the bottom of the mischief. Mathews is the scoundrel supposed (and with much reason) to have undone the poor Girl - it vexes me much. I could fight about it, because I was just finishing her picture for the [Royal Academy] Exhibition."
By the time Gainsborough did paint a great, solitary portrait of Elizabeth in 1785/6, she was older, sadder - and Gainsborough's painting feels for her. Sheridan became famous as an MP as well as a theatre grandee, but he suppressed Elizabeth's singing career and was serially unfaithful; their private life was dominated by debt. In Gainsborough's painting, Elizabeth sits in a windswept landscape, looking at us wistfully - her hands fiddle at her diaphanous shawl, her expression that of someone on the point of unburdening herself to us.
This was Gainsborough's world. These were the people he knew. Sometimes Gainsborough's account of his world seems so naked, so acute, that you can't quite believe he painted the way he did and got away with it. Some people won't believe it and refuse to accept that there is anything odd, anything satirical, about Gainsborough's early portrait Mr And Mrs Andrews, of a landed couple on their estate just outside his home town, Sudbury. Gainsborough's early style - crisply precise, coolly informative - has a pop art immediacy; he pulls no punches. Mr Robert Andrews, a landed gentleman, is a blunt, aggressive figure; he holds a menacing shotgun. He's been hunting, but looks as if he'd shoot a poacher as happily as a rabbit. His young wife, Frances Mary Carter, is dressed inappropriately for the East Anglian outdoors; her skirt billows comically against the cold, fresh, wet sky. The landscape is perfect in its British toughness and cloudy beauty - and is explicitly a farmed, enclosed estate.
It was the Marxist art critic John Berger who established this painting as a contemporary icon in his 1970s TV series Ways Of Seeing. Mr and Mrs Andrews, he noticed, "are not a couple in nature as Rousseau imagined nature. They are landowners and their proprietary attitude towards what surrounds them is visible in their stance and expressions."
Some scholars can't reconcile this hard political language with the extreme loveliness of Gainsborough's little blue and green treasure of a painting; such a tender, loving landscape, a deeply personal record of the countryside in which he grew up. But Gainsborough's painting is edgy, composed so as to question the relationship of figure and landscape. He shoves his subjects to the side; they are at odds with, rather than part of, the land and sky sweeping away from them. In their posh clothes, they look artificial, unconvincing.
Gainsborough hated rich clients. His letters are full of loathing for the "gentlemen" who came to his studio expecting him to pay court, to flatter, to play the servant. "They think (and so may you for a while) that they reward your merit by their company and notice," he advised a friend, "but I know that they have only one part worth looking at, and that is their purse." He gave his servant orders to ask any gentlemen who came to his house what they desired of Mr Gainsborough; if they wanted to commission a portrait, they were to be let in, but if they just wanted to talk to the celebrity artist and boast about their Grand Tour and whatnot, the servant was to send them packing. "Now if a Lady a handsome Lady comes 'tis as much as his Life is worth to send them away so."
His greatest portraits are the ones in which he celebrates something different from the run-of-the-mill gentleman. They are paintings of the flotsam and jetsam of 18th-century society, ladies of dubious reputation, musicians and artists who made an insecure living, the crazy inventors and people he admired for private reasons, such as the doctors who helped him with his lifelong ailments and illnesses which he picked up (or thought he picked up) when meeting "venuses" in London brothels.
He delights in turning expectations upside down, revealing the serious in the trivial and the trivial in the serious, mixing the real and the fantastic; the very texture of his paintings is playful, paradoxical, and warns us not to take the eye's information for granted. Close up, his pictures make no sense. His mature paintings are constructed with painterly, flamboyant, abstract marks that touch animals, trees, dresses into existence in a complicated, tricksy way - when you go up close to The Watering Place (c.1774-7) in the National Gallery, a cow turns out to be an outrageous smear on the surface of the picture, leaves are light, bouncy flourishes. Brushstrokes sit cockily proud of the painting, creating an irregular texture so that close to, the light hits the picture unevenly and breaks it to pieces - only details, notably faces, are recognisable in the abstract play of light and shade. These later paintings are grand, physically; they impose themselves on space and create a vertiginous sense of height, when you look up at the tall hairdos and flouncy hats and silver clouds, almost like the ceiling paintings of Tiepolo.
The aesthetic game going on here, in paintings made at the dawn of the Romantic period, has its origins earlier in the 18th century. If Gainsborough influenced Goya, the painter who inspired his own visual world was the delicately poetic French genius Jean-Antoine Watteau. Watteau died in 1721, in his mid-30s, leaving a troubled, alienated view of the world contained in fantastic, suggestive scenes of lovers in parks, commedia dell'arte players, melancholy companies. Watteau's painted landscape is perfumed, unreal, with fancy costumes, erotic themes. Watteau is the definition of the decorative, self-mocking style known as rococo.
Gainsborough is a rococo painter. He learned the style from his French teacher; but he saw the potential radicalism beneath the flouncy surface, that Watteau's world is full of ironies and unexpected interventions by the real. Images of sexuality, class and poverty haunt Watteau's reveries - as they haunt Gainsborough's.
Rococo was the last style of traditional courtly art, but more and more, as you look at it, it was the first modern art. Rococo's imaginary parkland is socially ambiguous: the people parading in fine dresses might be ladies or prostitutes, the harlequins courting them might be lords or servants. In London, masked balls, the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall and Ranelagh, or St James's Park, were rococo social spaces where money could wash away class identity, where the aristocracy mingled with the scum.
But it was Gainsborough who played the game of disguised social commentary with an exquisite touch. In his early painting Cornard Wood ("Gainsborough's Forest", c.1746-7), he creates a tangled, knotted vision of a woodland just outside Sudbury. It was a place used as common land - the land on which, traditionally, the poor had rights to chop wood, hunt, gather food; "customs in common" as the radical historian EP Thompson called the communal practices of the British countryside which were being eroded by enclosures and capitalist farming.
It is striking, and has to mean something, that Gainsborough populates Cornard Wood with the rural poor, doing all the things they had the right to do on common land. The painting looks today like the flipside of Mr And Mrs Andrews - both depict Gainsborough's native countryside, yet the landed couple dominate their world while the common people are part of Cornard Wood, at one with it. Gainsborough painted this community in the woods again and again. His later landscapes are less realistic, more openly fantasist images of a soft woody world in which, as in The Market Cart (1786) in the National Gallery, countryfolk travel a shady road nuzzled, protected, by an oaky British forest.
Nature - the woozy, leafily stylised nature that decorates almost all his portraits - is for Gainsborough a kind of screen on which all manner of desires and fears can be projected, like the peepshow he made, showing paintings on glass, backlit. Some of his most revealingly emotional uses of nature are in paintings of his own family. In 1746 Thomas Gainsborough married Margaret Burr, the illegitimate daughter of an aristocrat. They soon had a baby, Mary, but she died in 1748. Gainsborough's Portrait Of The Artist With His Wife And Daughter, done probably in the same year, appears to be a posthumous picture of Mary with her grief-stricken parents - at least that would explain their depressed, distracted looks, and their distance from one another, as if the dead baby has come between them. Their expressions are dismal. Thomas looks past us sadly, pointlessly, his red jacket not properly buttoned, his hat raked disconsolately, while Margaret looks nowhere. The dead child is the only human who looks at us - the dog also looks at us, cheekily, ignorant of what afflicts his mistress and master. The landscape in which they sit is a devastating reflection of their feelings; the tree half-bare, the pool dreary, the sky unhealthy, suicidal. It's a dreadful painting to see from the hand of the rococo celebrant of dresses, powders, silks and smiles.
Gainsborough and his wife had two more, surviving daughters, the first also named Mary, and then Margaret. His paintings of them are unnerving in their uninhibited love and clear-eyed recognition of fragility. In his most glorious portrait of his children, The Painter's Daughters Chasing A Butterfly (c. 1756), they pursue a winged image of ephemerality through a darkened garden; they are lit magically and entrancingly, yet all around them are deep, impenetrable shadows. They are moving forward, into life, out of the protection of their parents, into a future as breakable as a butterfly's wing.
He was right to be anxious. There wasn't much place for the talented daughters of an artist in a society full of brutal class and gender distinctions. As he recognised and tried to tell his class-addled friends, gentlemen and artists did not belong to the same world; he tried to train his daughters for professional careers as artists, and dreamt that they could make a living as landscape painters. Instead they got caught up in high society without being part of it; they were treated at Bath and at court as performing freaks, and ended up living together, regarded as lonely eccentrics.
In 1788, Gainsborough died of a cancer that his doctors - who weren't as good as he thought - insisted wasn't serious. One of his last letters, written when his "poor Crazy Frame" was racked with pain, captures his irrepressible fantasy and lightness of spirit. "I am so childish," he says, "that I could make a Kite, catch Gold Finches, or build little Ships."
Sir Joshua Reynolds, whom you suspect never flew a kite in his life, delivered a generous but patronising oration after Gainsborough's death, praising a man he saw as his nearest rival, yet without any doubt that history would regard Gainsborough as in the top of the second rank - a bit of an eccentric. All those odd scratchy marks and wayward brushstrokes. Today it is as hard to love Reynolds as it is to resist Gainsborough.
British art, from Hogarth to Hirst, often seems to be characterised by a grainy harshness; an anger, a moral fury that is there in Constable's scrawled late paintings such as Hadleigh Castle, in Turner's storms, in Bacon, in Rachel Whiteread's House. But it's not in Gainsborough at all. He's a glorious contradiction of clichéd notions of national identity, with none of that Protestant iconoclasm; he never hints at moral condemnation, never sees anyone in an intolerant, prudish way.
He rarely got the big public commissioned portraits that went to Reynolds. The president of the Royal Academy argued that art should record great moments of history, and in the National Gallery you can see his noble image of one of Perdita's most feckless lovers, Banastre Tarleton, as war hero; sword, uniform, the insignia of history. Gainsborough recorded other faces, another history - Perdita sitting in her woodland bower, for ever young - and it is his account we believe
· Gainsborough, sponsored by the British Land Company plc, opens at Tate Britain, Millbank, London SW1, on October 24. Advance booking: Ticketmaster, 0870 166 8283.
| i don't know |
After singing at La Fenice in 1960, which soprano was known as ‘La Stupenda’? | Dame Joan Sutherland: Soprano known as 'La Stupenda' | The Independent
Dame Joan Sutherland: Soprano known as 'La Stupenda'
Monday 11 October 2010 23:00 BST
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The Independent Online
Joan Sutherland's career was so solid and durable – and those are miserable words for a thing of such brilliance – that it might seem perverse to fix on one night of it. But 17 February 1959 was the date, and the occasion, a performance of Lucia di Lammermoor at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, the stuff that legends are made of. "Yes, yes," people say as if to wave away the subject, quieten the old opera-bore, soothe a child who tells of improbable adventures which you know the real world lacks resources to supply, But no: that night was one of the great events of a lifetime, and the voice of wonder is not so easily silenced.
Besides, this scepticism about Sutherland was familiar from the start. Outside the theatre I had arranged to meet a friend who had not been to the show and whom I found talking with some critics and other important people who had. A lustreless, unimpressed little group stood there: mouths were set like those of mothers who observe the delinquency of next door's horrible little Dennis, eyelids droops and unseeing gazes fixed upon some indifferent object in the middle distance. "Didn't she look awful with that red hair!" said someone. And all the while within myself there struggled for coherent expression the sensations of one who has seen (and heard) miracles. Then, eventually, the important ones sighed their "Ah wells" and drifted back to Highgate or St John's Wood, and the lid could begin to bob up and down on the kettle, and something of the wonder steaming away inside managed to find release.
It would be much more satisfactory if one could say that what had so impressed had been the newly revealed dramatic impact of the work, that the producer's insight had shown it to be an opera about the subcutaneous disorders of a gain-motivated society. And certainly the opera had proved its power over the emotions and the production had gladdened eye as well as ears. Moreover, it had been well acted. Everybody who was there remembers Lucy's first appearance on the spiral staircase in the Mad Scene, and the way horrified and fascinated onlookers flinched as she turned towards them. Sutherland herself acted with complete conviction and moved with touching beauty and grace. But the great thing, the quality that set this as a night apart, was something else. It was the triumph of voice.
Sutherland's voice was then completely steady. It was also (and so remained till very near the time of her retirement) entirely free from surface-scratch, those layers of extraneous sound which the majority of professional voices acquire, often in a very short time: hers remained pure. It was also quite exceptionally ample in volume. There are problems about comparing the "size" of voices, but my strong recollection is that Sutherland's was a more house-filling tone than Callas's even in her prime; it was certainly much fuller than others we heard at that time in the same or comparable roles. The middle range was not its glory, yet there was warmth and substance in it. She also had a chest voice which, though sparingly used, helped to colour and give dramatic force: Lucy's cry of "il fantasma" remained vivid in the memory because of it.
But the thrills came from on high. It is ridiculous to talk about high notes as though they don't matter or are some kind of stunt irrelevant to the real art of music. When music is written with high notes, the music itself is spoiled if the high notes are shrill or thin or strained in tone; conversely, when the notes are beautiful the music can begin to glow. It was so with Lucia.
There was one breathtakingly beautiful phrase in the cadenza of the Mad Scene at which, if one is to pinpoint a certain moment in the performance, a thrill passed through the whole house. This was the reminiscence of the melody from Act I, "Verranno a te", sung now without words. The phrase is usually broken off before the melody spans its highest, to spoil the suggestion of a fitful, fragmented memory, but to draw us closer to the character through the sheer loveliness of sound. It was pure and natural, and its fullness of tone seemed to come from a full heart: I have never heard anything quite like it. When she took the final high E flat – again with such fullness and assurance – it brought the singer's triumph and the audience's joy in sound to their fitting culmination. But it was in that earlier moment, and in the surrounding phrases, that the house had held its breath and silently acknowledged that here was what in Italy they were soon to know as "La Stupenda".
For her fluency in scale-passages one had to go back to the most accomplished work of earlier singers to find anything comparable: Marcella Sembrich, Nellie Melba, Margarethe Siems. Her staccatos were as finely pointed as Tetrazzini's though the tone had not that brightness and sparkle. Her trill was precise and capable of being sustained long enough to be (as it never was in practice) a delicious menace, a show-stopper à la Selma Kurz (who would walk round the stage holding a single trilled note till on one occasion an exasperated conductor brought down his baton and the orchestra cut her off with a final chord).
There was also something of the limpid, unaggressive style of Galli-Curci in her coloratura: she never used the brilliance of her florid technique to impose awareness of herself as prima donna, or if she caught herself doing something of that kind it was at once despatched with a deprecatory flash of humour. That (the element of "send-up") was to come later, with La Fille du Regiment.
In this first Lucia one of the most refreshing features of the performance was its unself-consciousness. The most brilliant things were done in the most unostentatious way. The Fountain Scene in Act I introduced a Lucia who went about her business with such apparent ease that the audience could have been excused had they failed to recognise the extent of her technical achievement. As I remember it, the applause, even at this early stage, suggested that we had from the start a fairly sure appreciation of the marvel we were witnessing.
The critics whom I met afterwards in their huddle of real or assumed boredom may not, after all, have been typical, for the papers next day were full of praise. Andrew Porter, for instance, found Sutherland's singing "exquisite" and explained exactly why; moreover "there was a meaning in everything she did". The few openly dissenting voices included that of Victor Gollancz, who was heard to remark, "By God, she's as dull as Melba". And, more seriously, there were several good judges who had misgivings which concerned a feature of the singer's art not yet mentioned: that of "legato".
There is a phrase in Tom Stoppard's Jumpers about the futility of trying to construct a gothic arch out of junket. Later on in Sutherland's career and particularly when listening to her records, there were times when the image would come to mind. No doubt it all depends on what you mean by "legato", literally the art of "binding" the notes or, to change the metaphor, making them flow. Every singer "binds" and makes the voice "flow" in some degree, but the degree relates to evenness, which may be a question of voice-production or of style or both.
Also related is the concept of "line". Sutherland, with her conductor husband Richard Bonynge, came to specialise in operas from the first half of the 19th century, which of all periods was the one that most assiduously cultivated the voice as an instrument for melody. The melodic line may have its points of special emphasis and it may be shaped with a rise and fall of volume, but essentially the notes must be "bound" and the line must preserve a certain integrity: it is a unit in the sequence of phrases which constitute the melody. Sutherland, it was felt, either lacked something in the technique of binding evenly or, perhaps encouraged by Bonynge and other influences (such as the example of Callas) which urged her to be "expressive", developed a style that fussed and fidgeted too much.
This, as a source of dissatisfaction, was exacerbated by three other features of her singing. One was the particular character of her tone, which had about it a quality that was more of a liability on records than in the flesh. Hers was a round voice rather than sharp-edged, warm rather than shiny. So if one compared Sutherland in (say) "Ah, non credea mirarti" from La sonnambula with the recording by Toti Dal Monte, Sutherland's lack of a firm line was felt as much in the contrast of tones as in the treatment of the melody (whether technical or stylistic).
Then there was the question, much more clearly stylistic, of the Sutherland "droop". Portamento, the carrying-over of one note into the next by a gentle curve of sound rather than a clean-cut interval, is a feature of the legato style, and that is not what is in question here. It is more a device which I think Sutherland learnt to use when seeking pathos; it then became a mannerism and grew tiresome. In his book on Sutherland in the short-lived Record Masters series (1972), Edward Greenfield sees the early 1960s as the worst time for this, and it is true that later years brought some tightening-up in this respect. Yet it is part of the "sound-picture" one retains: try to listen to Sutherland inwardly, and this is part of what you hear.
The third feature that contributed to this perceived want of definition in Sutherland's singing was the somewhat amorphous nature of her diction. Consonants lacked sharpness, but that would have mattered less had the full range of vowel sounds been available. Just as Walter Pater thought that "all arts aspire towards the condition of music", so it seems all vowels aspired towards the condition of "ah". Degrees of difference were preserved, but you certainly could not say of Sutherland that she (as David Hamilton wrote of Martinelli) "quickened the language". With the verbal life of it so drained, her music needed still more urgently sharpness of tone and cleanness of interval in order to preserve its vitality.
Misgivings about such matters increased during the early years of her stardom. But the post-Lucia years were not the whole of Sutherland's career, and some of her best work was done before that great night in 1959. Sutherland had already demonstrated her star-quality the previous year, singing "Let the bright Seraphim" at the end of Handel's Samson. Samson may have brought down the temple but it was Sutherland who brought down the house. In those years I remember two moments of bewilderment. One was in Tippett's Midsummer Marriage, in which bewilderments were manifold, but my own special problem was this: everyone had told me, and I had believed, that no florid singing was to be heard in the present that could be remotely compared with that of the past, yet here was this not so very celebrated girl singing with such assured virtuosity that it was hard to imagine Tetrazzini herself doing better.
The other occasion was in 1952, in Norma. Norma held the stage, but in her shadow came the nearly anonymous confidante, Clotilde, who was occasionally allowed a phrase or two. I, whom gramophone records had taught to regard the "great" singer as virtuiially a separate species from the non-entities who played roles such as the confidante, was disconcerted to find the two voices, side by side, not such worlds apart after all. A reviewer in Opera magazine referred to the "weak, fluttering sounds" emitted by Clotilde, but this was not so in the performance I attended. Her voice was clear and firm. The name Joan Sutherland meant nothing; the name Maria Callas (who sang Norma) already meant a great deal. The apparent levelling threat to my view of the singers' hierarchy turned out to be no such thing, for the confidante was soon to join the ranks of the great ones; but it is a testimony to the quality of Sutherland's voice even then, and in such a tiny role, that it should have called a whole system of judgement into question.
What happened immediately following the great triumph at the Royal Opera House was also impressive. The diva went down the road to sing in the Handel Opera Society's Rodelinda at Sadlers Wells. It was a fine cast, with the young Janet Baker as Eduige and, as a feast of singing, was in no way inferior to the Lucia. The following year a glittering production by Zeffirelli of Alcina was created for her at La Fenice in Venice, with repetitions in Dallas and in 1962 at Covent Garden: famous occasions all of these, adding lustre to the annals of the houses.
But then again she did the same honourable thing, and, under Charles Farncombe, sang in Giulio Cesare back in Sadlers Wells. As a Handel singer she met with some criticism, especially from Handelians who would have preferred a more moderate style of embellishment and a cleaner treatment of the melodic line. There were nevertheless things that she could do in Handel which no one else could rival, and for many her participation in them was the means of their introduction to a field of opera still largely unknown to the general public.
Composers, titles, theatres, dates: through all of these a singer has a private life to maintain. After the Lucia, as Sutherland's biographer, Norma Major, remarks, nothing was ever to be the same. She became a world-citizen. With a home in Switzerland, a loyalty to London, an annual season in New York, and from 1965 onwards a renewed and ever-stronger association with her native Australia, these were still other great calls upon her: Milan, Paris, Vienna, San Francisco, Chicago, Vancouver, Madrid, Amsterdam, Stockholm, these and many more were the scenes of tumultuous receptions which were only proportionate to the special place she had acquired in the musical world.
She was also a mother as well as a wife. She appeared to the public to be in radiant health, but had serious and often gruelling afflictions to contend with. Equally, everyone who knew her has their story of her cheerfulness, generosity and sheer good nature.
Sutherland was born in Sydney in 1926 to Scots parents, She studied first with her mother, a mezzo-soprano, and then with John and Aida Dickens in Sydney, where she made her concert debut as Dido in Purcell's Dido and Aeneas in 1947. Four years later she made her stage debut in Eugene Goossens' Judith, then moved to London to study at the Opera School of the Royal College of Music with Clive Carey. She joined the Royal Opera House as a utility soprano, and made her debut there in 1952, as the First Lady in The Magic Flute. She remained resident soprano there for seven years, culminating in her triumphant Lucia in 1959.
Her retirement on New Year's Eve at Covent Garden in 1990 was unforgettable as an event in which all this great warmth of feeling was concentrated. Her singing of "Home, Sweet Home" showed that the time had come, though the scales and roulades of the Semiramide duet with Marylin Horne had much of the old brilliance. I prefer to think of her final Lucia at Covent Garden, in 1985, as the last time I heard her, and even then, impressive and moving as the occasion was, it was not the Sutherland we had known, nor was it anything approaching.
Further back than that, records had exposed (and exaggerated) a beat on sustained notes. A whole generation must have come into being that thought it had heard the great Sutherland when truths to tell it had not. Increasingly now, we shall have to go back to theearlier records, perhaps up to 1970;and even then they need supplementing by reference to the world press and to the accounts of those who heard her in her prime.
There was an amplitude, a potent glow of sound, which records hardly capture, just as there was something in her own presence and her relationship with an audience which photographs capture not at all. She simply, at her best, gave to opera-goers of this century, singing of a kind which they thought belonged to another age. She may not have "quickened the language"but she quickened a love of the singing voice and of the operas that best preserve it.
Joan Sutherland, soprano: born Sydney, Australia 7 November 1926; CBE 1961, DBE 1979, OM 1991; married 1954 Richard Bonynge (one son); died near Geneva, Switzerland 11 October 2010.
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Dame Joan Alston Sutherland, OM, DBE, AC was an Australian dramatic coloratura soprano noted for her contribution to the renaissance of the bel canto repertoire from the late 1950s through to the 1980s. One of the most remarkable female opera singers of the 20th century, she was dubbed La Stupenda by a La Fenice audience in 1960 after a performance of the title role in Handel's Alcina. She possessed...
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The second tallest building in the EU after The Shard, the Commerzbank Tower, is in which German city? | Spain unveils plans to build the tallest skyscraper in the EU | The Independent
Spain unveils plans to build the tallest skyscraper in the EU
Madrid unveiled plans to build Europe's tallest skyscraper potentially topping current title holder, The Shard
Sunday 17 April 2016 13:03 BST
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The Independent Online
The Shard is Europe's tallest inhabitable building The View from The Shard
The Shard could lose its title as Europe’s tallest building after developers in Spain unveiled plans for an even bigger skyscraper.
Since 2011, the triangle shaped tower has dominated the London skyline, earning it the prestige of being Europe’s tallest inhabitable structure.
Standing at 310 metres tall, 72 of the 95 floors are in use, with the upper floors accounting for the spire.
But new plans for a six tower development in Madrid could knock it off the top spot with one tower included in the complex planned to be 70 floors, also topping 300 metres
London's new skyscrapers 'inflict serious harm' on capital's landscape
Antonio Béjar, CEO of the company behind the project, Distrito Castellana Norte (DCN), announced the lavish plans.
He said the skyscrapers would: "Transform the city’s skyline and put Madrid among the main European capital cities.
"The project is closer than ever to starting,"
The entire development forms part of a wider regeneration scheme for the northern part of the city, which has been progressing over the years.
DCN is currently applying for all the necessary permits to begin construction.
In pictures: Nik Wallenda completes two tightrope walks between Chicago skyscrapers without safety net
In pictures: Nik Wallenda completes two tightrope walks between Chicago skyscrapers without safety net
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Nik Wallenda walks across the Chicago skyline blindfolded for Discovery Channel's Skyscraper Live with Nik Wallenda
2/10 Nik Wallenda
Daredevil Nik Wallenda, left center in red, makes his tightrope walk uphill at a 19-degree angle, from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
3/10 Nik Wallenda
A large crowd waits to watch daredevil Nik Wallenda begin his walk on a tightrope uphill at a 19-degree angle from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
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Nik Wallenda begins his tightrope walk uphill at a 19-degree angle from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
5/10 Nik Wallenda
The shadow of daredevil Nik Wallenda is cast against the West Marina Tower as he begins his tightrope walk uphill at a 19-degree angle, from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
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Daredevil Nik Wallenda makes his tightrope walk uphill at a 19-degree angle, from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building, past the Aqua Building, background, in Chicago
7/10 Nik Wallenda
A large crowd watches Daredevil Nik Wallenda walk a tightrope uphill at a 19-degree angle from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
8/10 Nik Wallenda
Nik Wallenda walks on a tightrope uphill at a 19-degree angle from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
9/10 Nik Wallenda
Daredevil Nik Wallenda reacts after completing his first walk along a tightrope between two skyscrapers suspended 500 feet (152.4 meters) above the Chicago River in Chicago
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Nik Wallenda walks on a tightrope uphill at a 19-degree angle from the Marina City west tower across the Chicago River to the top of the Leo Burnett Building in Chicago
Currently, the tallest inhabitable building in the EU, after The Shard, is the Commerzbank Tower at 259 metres, followed by the Messeturm, 257 metres, both in Frankfurt.
In fourth and fifth place is the Torre de Cristal at 249 metres, then the Torre Cepsa, 248.3 metres, both in Madrid.
The new development will sit close to the existing skyscrapers in the city.
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Rachel Weisz, who plays Dr Marta Shearing in ‘The Bourne Legacy’, is married to which actor? | 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction - CNN.com
25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
By CNN Staff
Updated 9:01 AM ET, Tue August 20, 2013
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Empire State Building, New York – Height: 437 meters.
Cost to build: $41 million.
Completion date: May 1, 1931.
Fast fact: The Empire State Building took only one year and 45 days to build, or 7 million man hours -- a record to this day for a skyscraper of its height. Its glory days are numbered though -- developers in China just broke ground on the world's tallest building, Sky City, with plans to whip it up in just 10 months.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
China Central Television Headquarters, Beijing – Height: 234 meters.
Cost to build: $600 million.
Completion date: 2012.
Fast fact: A building in the CCTV complex was badly damaged during a fire ignited by fireworks.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Commerzbank Headquarters, Frankfurt, Germany – Height: 300.1 meters.
Cost to build: $414 million.
Completion date: 1997.
Fast fact: There's no observatory or open area on top. The public can only get as far as the plaza level.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
The Shard, London – Height: 310 meters.
Cost to build: $666 million.
Completion date: November 2012.
Fast fact: Architect Renzo Piano made the first rough sketch of The Shard on the back of a restaurant menu in Berlin in 2000.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Elephant Tower, Bangkok – Height: 102 meters.
Cost to build: N/A.
Completion date: 1997.
Fast fact: The elephant is Thailand's national animal; it appeared on the national flag when the country was known as Siam.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Chrysler Building, New York – Height: 320 meters.
Cost to build: $15-20 million.
Completion date: May 1930.
Fast fact: The building became the tallest in the world when architect William van Alen added a surprise 186-foot spire to the top, beating the Eiffel Tower and another skyscraper being built at the same time on Wall Street.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Bitexco Financial Tower, Ho Chi Minh City – Height: 262 meters.
Cost to build: $220 million.
Completion date: October 31, 2010.
Fast fact: Bitexco Financial Tower's helipad on the 52nd floor juts out 22 meters.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Ryugyong Hotel, Pyongyang, North Korea – Height: 330 meters.
Cost to build: $750 million.
Completion date: N/A.
Fast fact: The hotel has held the Guinness World Record for world's tallest unoccupied building for an unenviable 21 years.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Transamerica Pyramid, San Francisco – Height: 260 meters.
Cost to build: $32 million.
Completion date: 1972.
Fast fact: When the Transamerica Pyramid's three years of construction began in 1969, signs around the site proclaimed it "a San Francisco landmark since 1972."
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Bank of China Tower, Hong Kong – Height: 367.4 meters.
Cost to build: N/A.
Completion date: May 1990.
Fast fact: The building was criticized by feng shui masters for its sharp corners, which, they claimed, would bring bad luck to its neighbors (notably the HSBC main building).
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Kingdom Centre, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia – Height: 302 meters.
Cost to build: $1 billion.
Completion date: 2002.
Fast fact: Riyadh's building code forbids any building to have more than 30 usable floors, but doesn't impose height restrictions.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Petronas Twin Towers, Kuala Lumpur – Height: 452 meters.
Cost to build: $1.6 billion.
Completion date: June 1996.
Fast fact: National poet laureate A. Samad Said was commissioned to write a poem for Malaysia's tallest towers.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Tokyo Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower, Tokyo – Height: 204 meters.
Cost to build: N/A.
Completion date: October 2008.
Fast fact: As the name suggests, the Tokyo Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower resembles the silky home of various larvae. Students are said to be educated inside the 50-level tower and metaphorically transformed into something bigger and more beautiful.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Shanghai World Financial Center, Shanghai – Height: 492 meters.
Cost to build: $1.2 billion.
Completion date: August 2008.
Fast fact: The square "bottle opener" opening at the top is designed to reduce stress of wind pressure, and was originally circular. However, Shanghainese citizens and the city's mayor protested, claiming it was too similar to the rising sun design of the Japanese flag.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Hotel & Casino Grand Lisboa, Macau – Height: 261 meters.
Cost to build: $385 million.
Completion date: 2008.
Fast Fact: Designed by Hong Kong architects Dennis Lau and Ng Chun Man, the golden structure combines the visual effects of crystals, fireworks and the long plumes of a Brazilian headdress -- all symbols of prosperity to guide the money home.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Bahrain World Trade Center, Manama, Bahrain – Height: 240 meters.
Cost to build: $150 million.
Completion date: 2008.
Fast fact: Upon completion, this was the world's first wind-powered mega-structure.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Two International Finance Center, Hong Kong – Height: 415 meters.
Cost to build: $2.5 billion.
Completion date: August 2008.
Fast facts: Two International Financial Center is the definitive point of Hong Kong's skyline and a symbol of its wealth. In "Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life," Lara Croft leaped off the building.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Burj al Arab, Dubai, U.A.E. – Height: 321 meters.
Cost to build: $650 million.
Completion date: December 1999.
Fast fact: The hotel is not, nor does it claim to be, a seven-star hotel. That famed designation was dreamed up by a creative journalist when touring the property.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Taipei 101, Taipei, Taiwan – Height: 508 meters.
Cost to build: $1.8 billion.
Completion date: 2004.
Fast fact: The building is designed to resemble a growing bamboo stalk, a symbol of everlasting strength in Chinese culture.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Torre Agbar, Barcelona, Spain – Height: 142 meters.
Cost to build: $130 million.
Completion date: 2004.
Fast fact: The design is inspired by a geyser, shooting up to touch the sky above Barcelona.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Burj Khalifa, Dubai, U.A.E. – Height: 828 meters.
Cost to build: $1.5 billion.
Completion date: January 2009.
Fast fact: Not only is this currently the world's tallest building, it's home to the world's highest mosque, on the 158th floor. The tower is more than twice the height of the Empire State Building in New York.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
30 St. Mary Axe, London – Height: 180 meters.
Cost to build: $212 million.
Completion date: 2003.
Fast fact: Despite its curvaceous body, the entire building only has one piece of curved glass in its construction -- the lens at the top of the building.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Turning Torso, Malmo, Sweden – Height: 190 meters.
Cost to build: $80 million.
Completion date: 2005.
Fast fact: In line with Sweden's low-emission promise, the tallest residential building in the country is supplied with 100% locally produced renewable energy.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
One World Trade Center, New York – Height: 541 meters.
Cost to build: $3.9 billion.
Completion date: May 2013.
Fast fact: The height of 1,776 feet is a symbolic reference to the year in which the United States' Declaration of Independence was signed.
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Photos: 25 great skyscrapers: icons of construction
Marina Bay Sands, Singapore – Height: 194 meters.
Cost to build: $6.3 billion.
Opening date: April 2010.
Fast fact: Marina Bay Sands is one of the world's most expensive standalone casino properties, with total construction costs estimated at more than $6 billion.
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Empire State Building is still the fastest built skyscraper of its height
Ryugyong Hotel in North Korea has held record for tallest unoccupied building for 21 years
London's 310-meter The Shard is highest building in the European Union
China may have just topped out on its new tallest building -- the 632-meter Shanghai Tower -- but if plans underway in Changsha come to fruition, that building will hold the title until only April 2014 when the country's 838-meter Sky City is completed.
When that happens, Sky City will become the world's tallest building, beating the Burj Khalifa in Dubai by 10 meters.
While people debate the merits of building so high so quickly -- there's evidence that tall buildings often presage an economic collapse -- we wanted to take a look at other buildings that deserve browser time.
These aren't the tallest buildings in the world, they aren't the prettiest buildings in the world, they aren't even the most successful -- the inclusion of North Korea's disastrous Ryugyong Hotel attests to that.
But they are among the most iconic, representing their designers and their cities as memorably as anything else.
To put together the list we collaborated with A. Eugene Kohn, founder and chairman of Kohn Pedersen Fox Associates (KPF), one of the world's largest architectural firms, and Michael Greene, KPF principal.
Let us know what you think of our choices and tell us about your own favorite iconic buildings in the comments section below.
Empire State Building, New York
Height: 437 meters
Cost to build: $41 million
Completion date: May 1, 1931
Fast fact: The Empire State Building took only one year and 45 days to build, or 7 million man hours -- a record to this day for a skyscraper of its height.
Its glory days are numbered though -- developers in China just broke ground on the world's tallest building, Sky City, with plans to whip it up in just 10 months.
"With the passing of the World Trade Center, it became even more entrenched in the hearts and souls of New Yorkers and the rest of the world." -- Michael Greene.
The 443-meter Empire State Building is the icon of New York, where Jay Z's "dreams are made" and King Kong went berserk.
The Empire State Building was designed by William Lamb of architecture firm Shreve, Lamb & Harmon.
Built during the Great Depression, this gigantic building has been an American symbol for 70 years, providing a solid anchor through the ebbs and flows of its economy.
It's also the longest holder of the "World's Tallest Building" title, from 1931 to 1972.
Its exterior lighting changes regularly to promote charitable causes and mark significant events and it's one of the few skyscrapers to offer wedding packages at its observatory.
Empire State Building , 350 Fifth Ave., New York; +1 212 736 3100; Observatory open daily, 8 a.m-2 a.m., tickets from $27/adult, $21/child (6-12)
China Central Television Headquarters, Beijing
Height: 234 meters
Cost to build: $600 million
Completion date: 2012
Fast fact: A building in the CCTV complex was badly damaged during a fire ignited by fireworks.
Reportedly nicknamed "big boxer shorts" by a Beijing taxi driver, the CCTV headquarters looks like no other building on earth.
Designed by architects Rem Koolhaas and Ole Scheeren of Rotterdam architecture firm OMA , it's comprised of a continuous loop of six horizontal and vertical sections.
The design represents a running stream of "qi" in the building.
Given China's monumental economic ambitions, the 234-meter-high structure is considered on the short side for a skyscraper.
But its light gray curtain of glass does blend in with the notoriously smoggy skyline of Beijing, earning this one of a kind skyscraper awards from the Cityscape World Architecture Congress in Dubai.
"Instead of competing in the race for ultimate height and style within a traditional two-dimensional tower 'soaring' skyward, CCTV's loop poses a truly three-dimensional experience, culminating in a 75-meter cantilever," says the firm behind it.
Cost to build: $414 million
Completion date: 1997
Fast fact: There's no observatory or open area on top. The public can only get as far as the plaza level.
With the aid of a 50-meter mast, the Commerzbank Headquarters in Frankfurt soars past the 300-meter mark by a whopping 10 centimeters.
Designed by London-headquartered architecture firm Foster + Partners, the building is the tallest in Germany.
It was the tallest of all buildings in the European Union until London's The Shard bumped it to second in 2012.
The Commerzbank Headquarters was the world's first so-called ecological skyscraper, making use of natural systems of lighting and ventilation and reducing energy consumption as early as 1997.
In contrast to Europe's conspicuous lack of grand skyscrapers, this building celebrates its rise above low-rise offices, making it not just a symbol of Frankfurt's economy, but of Germany's attempts to pioneer eco-architectural design.
Commerzbank Headquarters , Kaiserplatz 1, Frankfurt, Germany
The Shard, London
Cost to build: $666 million
Completion date: November 2012
Fast fact: Architect Renzo Piano made the first rough sketch of The Shard on the back of a restaurant menu in Berlin in 2000.
In a city as architecturally mature as London, it takes something special to get eyeballs away from Westminster Palace, St. Paul's Cathedral and the Tower of London.
The Shard did it, slicing up the skyline and the record books with its 310-meter height overtaking the Commerzbank Headquarters in Frankfurt by nine meters, to become the highest building in the European Union.
Its viewing floors, called The View from The Shard, offer views twice as high as any other viewing platform in London.
The Shard , Joiner Street; open 9 a.m.-10 p.m. daily (closed December 25); £24.95 ($38) for adult (£29.95 purchase on the day); £18.95 for child between 4-15 (£23.95 purchase on the day), free for infants younger than 4; +44 (0) 0844 499 7111
Elephant Tower, Bangkok
Cost to build: NA
Completion date: 1997
Fast fact: The elephant is Thailand's national animal, having appeared on the national flag when the country was known as Siam.
It's no big shock then that someone would erect a pachyderm-inspired building in the big beast's honor.
Hanging out in northern Bangkok's Lad Phrao district, this 102-meter-high jumbo building, with eyes and tusks, towers above a busy junction.
As well as highlighting the importance of elephants in Thai culture and history, the Elephant Tower also nods toward Thailand's coming-of-age.
The creation of Thai engineer Arun Chaiseri, at the time of its completion it was cutting edge, offering high-tech offices, a shopping plaza and a floor of luxury residential suites.
This one would never make a list of the most beautiful skyscrapers, but there's no denying the Elephant Building's place in local hearts.
Elephant Tower , 369/38 Phaholyothin 26 Chatuchak, Bangkok
Chrysler Building, New York
Cost to build: $15-20 million
Completion date: May 1930
Fast fact: The building became the tallest in the world when architect William van Alen added a surprise 186-foot spire to the top, beating the Eiffel Tower and another skyscraper being built at the same time on Wall Street.
It kept its title of world's tallest building for just 11 months (being beaten by the Empire State Building), but the Chrysler Building's enduring legacy comes from its design.
William van Alen's design for the art deco tower is often acclaimed as the most beautiful in New York, winning plaudits from experts and the public as a favorite building.
That it came about due to auto mogul Walter P. Chrysler's ego -- he financed the build himself and requested that his toilet be the highest in Manhattan, so, according to one observer, he could "s**t on Henry Ford and the rest of the world" -- only adds to the legend.
The building pays more than a cursory nod to the Chrysler cars of the day, with gargoyles and other features on the building inspired by the hood ornaments and radiator caps on the automobiles.
Chrysler Building , 405 Lexington Ave., New York
Bitexco Financial Tower, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
Height: 262 meters
Cost to build: $220 million
Completion date: October 31, 2010
Fast fact: Designed to represent Vietnam's national flower, the lotus, this 262-meter skyscraper is meant to characterize the beauty and growth of the city below.
It has a helipad on the 52nd floor that juts out 22 meters.
The Bitexco Financial Tower may no longer be the tallest building in Vietnam -- that honor goes to Hanoi's Keangnam Landmark -- but it's still a standout on Ho Chi Minh City's skyline.
It's ambitious and in your face, much like its host city. No surprise, given it was designed by award-winning Ecuadorian architect Carlos Zapata.
There's an observation deck on the 47th floor, the Saigon Skydeck, where visitors get a 360-degree view of HCMC.
Saigon Skydeck , 36 Ho Tung Mau St., District 1, HCMC, Vietnam; +84 (0)8 39 156 156; tickets from 200,000 VND/adult ($9.50), 130,000/child
Ryugyong Hotel, Pyongyang, North Korea
Height: 330 meters
Cost to build: $750 million
Completion date: N/A
Fast fact: The hotel has held the Guinness World Record for world's tallest unoccupied building for an unenviable 21 years.
The world's tallest unoccupied building is undoubtedly an icon -- though probably not one you'd wish to be associated with.
Symbolizing decades of mismanagement and incongruous ostentation, what was originally started in 1987 in preparation for a festival was abandoned due to construction problems and funding issues.
Construction re-commenced in 2008 when Egyptian telecommunications company Orascom shelled out $180 million to complete the building's glass façade.
Kempinski Hotels group got on board to manage the property, then distanced itself again earlier this year when Pyongyang threatened the possibility of nuclear attacks against the United States and South Korea.
The last reports on the hotel's progress came from a Hong Kong journalist who escaped his chaperone in December 2012.
"When I stepped through scaffolding into the lobby and looked inside, there were no completed surfaces, just bare concrete and one electric light hanging down," Simon Parry told CNN.
We can expect the spacecraft-like shell to remain grounded for the foreseeable future, with the European Chamber of Commerce concluding, after an inspection in the 1990s, that poor construction materials and technique rendered the building a write-off.
Ryugyong Hotel, Pyongyang, North Korea; website (not official)
Transamerica Pyramid, San Francisco
Cost to build: $32 million
Completion date: 1972
Fast fact: When the Transamerica Pyramid's three years of construction began in 1969, signs around the site proclaimed it "a San Francisco landmark since 1972."
"The Transamerica Pyramid put San Francisco's downtown on the map." -- Michael Greene.
A stark contrast to San Franciso's picturesque wooden Victorian houses, this quartz-covered skyscraper juts into the sky like a rocket.
Though not comparable to today's futuristic skyscrapers, the 260-meter pyramid was the city's most recognizable building for decades.
Designed by architect William Pereira , the structure has an unconventional tapered design -- imitating a tree trunk -- that allows natural light and fresh air to trickle down to adjacent streets.
Without obstructing much of the tranquil neighborhood, this slender style, together with an earthquake-safe design, allowed the building to get around strict building laws in the city, reaching a height once unheard of in San Francisco.
The Transamerica Pyramid isn't open to the public, though there's a decent website with images and facts on the building.
Transamerica Pyramid , 505 Sansome St., San Francisco
Bank of China Tower, Hong Kong
Height: 367.4 meters
Bank of China Building, Hong Kong.
Cost to build: N/A
Completion date: May 1990
Fast fact: The building was criticized by feng shui masters for its sharp corners, which reportedly bring bad luck to its neighbors (notably the HSBC main building).
The Bank of China Tower was the first skyscraper outside of the United States to surpass the 305-meter mark and was once the tallest building in Hong Kong.
The unusual crystalline-like structure is inspired by the bamboo plant, mimicking its strength, vitality and growth.
Chinese-American architect I.M. Pei had to modify the design before construction began.
It has for years been one of the most distinctive buildings in Hong Kong, out-shining taller neighbors.
Together with Two IFC, the tower is part of the city's Symphony of Light show, which illuminates Hong Kong's harbor every night at 8 p.m.
The observation deck on the 43rd floor offers stunning views of Central, one of Hong Kong's busiest districts.
Bank of China Tower , 1 Garden Road, Central, Hong Kong Island
Kingdom Centre, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
Height: 302 meters
Cost to build: $1 billion
Completion date: 2002
Fast fact: Riyadh's building code forbids any building to have more than 30 usable floors, but doesn't impose height restrictions. The big void near the top of the Kingdom Centre means the building uses only 30 floors.
The second floor of Kingdom Centre is dedicated to a Ladies' Kingdom, a private shopping mall for women that's said to have "almost everything a female would need" -- including a ladies' bank and ladies' mosque.
Men are strictly not allowed, and women can shop freely without needing to be covered.
Designed by Minnesota-based firm Ellerbe Becket, the tower also houses the Four Seasons hotel and "the world's tallest mosque" on the 77th floor in addition to offices and shopping malls.
The observation deck at the top of the tower has incredible views of the city on clear days.
Kingdom Centre , King Fahad Road, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
Petronas Twin Towers, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Height: 452 meters
Petronas Twin Towers, Kuala Lumpur.
Cost to build: $1.6 billion
Completion date: June 1996
Fast fact: National poet laureate A. Samad Said was commissioned to write a poem for the towers.
"These towers changed the skyline of Kuala Lumpur, and jumped the existing scale there dramatically. Petronas was also an attempt to relate a tall building to a country's culture and history, and to make a statement about its power and desire to replace Hong Kong as a financial capital." -- A. Eugene Kohn.
Employing the repetitive geometric principle of Muslim architecture and Islamic arabesques, architect César Pelli wanted the Petronas Twin Towers to exude Malaysian culture and heritage.
The world's tallest twin towers stand out in the capital's otherwise unassuming cityscape. Visitors can see the views from the Skybridge, which connects the two structures and is the world's highest two-story bridge at Level 41 and 42, as well as from the observation deck at Level 86.
Completed in 1996, the sky bridge that connects the two towers symbolizes "a gateway to the future" and Malaysia's sky-high ambition entering the millennium.
Petronas Twin Towers , Jalan Ampang, Kualala Lumpur, Malaysia
Tokyo Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower, Tokyo
Height: 204 meters
Cost to build: N/A
Completion date: October 2008
Fast fact: It's the second-tallest educational building in the world, next to the M.V. Lomonosov State University building in Moscow.
As the name suggests, the Tokyo Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower resembles the silky home of various larvae.
Students are educated inside the 50-level tower and metaphorically transformed into something bigger and more beautiful, culminating in generations of Tokyoites prepared to give this sprawling city, and country, focus.
According to the architects, Tange Associates, the design of the 50-level tower is meant to symbolize the nurturing of the students and transform them in order to compete in the Japanese workplace.
Tokyo Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower, 1-7-3 Nishi-Shinjuku Shinjuku, Tokyo
Shanghai World Financial Center, Shanghai
Height: 492 meters
Shanghai World Financial Center, Shanghai.
Cost to build: $1.2 billion
Completion date: August 2008
Fast fact: The square "bottle opener" opening at the top is designed to reduce stress of wind pressure, and was originally circular.
However, Shanghainese citizens and the city's mayor protested, claiming it was too similar to the rising sun design of the Japanese flag.
Just eight meters shy of the half-kilometer mark, this giant bottle opener overtook Gin Mou Tower in 2008 as the tallest building in China, formally marking the city's emergence as a global financial hub.
The building, however, recently lost its title to the neighboring Shanghai Tower, which topped out on August 3, 2012, at 632 meters.
Like many magnificent buildings in China, the Shanghai World Financial Center has a subtle connection to Chinese beliefs: the opening atop represents earth reaching up to the sky, symbolizing an interaction between the two realms.
Shanghai World Financial Center , No.100, Century Avenue, Pudong New Area, Shanghai China
Hotel & Casino Grand Lisboa, Macau
Height: 261 meters
Cost to build: $385 million
Completion date: 2008
Fast fact: Designed by Hong Kong architects Dennis Lau and Ng Chun Man, the golden structure combines the visual effects of crystals, fireworks and the long plumes of a Brazilian headdress -- all symbols of prosperity to guide the money home.
In Macau, the Hotel & Casino Grand Lisboa is the eminent icon of gaudy profits.
It isn't particularly beautiful, but who needs beauty when what you're really after is piles of gamblers' cash?
Everything linked with money can somehow be intertwined with superstitions in Macau. This, the tallest skyscraper in Macau (261 meters) was built to resemble a bottleneck to avoid the leaking of cash --- a suggestion reportedly offered by a feng shui master.
Hotel & Casino Grand Lisboa , Avenida de Lisboa, Macau
Bahrain World Trade Center, Manama, Bahrain
Height: 240 meters
Bahrain World Trade Center, Bahrain.
Cost to build: $150 million
Completion date: 2008
Fast fact: It was the world's first wind-powered, mega-structure.
Atkins, the architectural firm behind the futuristic Bahrain World Trade Center, may have wanted to give the island's skyline a big, bright slap in the chops.
But the maritime connection doesn't stop at its stunning silhouette.
The two sail-inspired towers that reach vertically more than 240 meters are joined by three giant wind turbines in the middle to generate approximately 13% of the towers' total energy needs.
In addition to showing its deep pockets, this emphatically sci-fi building speaks volumes about Bahrain's environmental consciousness.
Bahrain World Trade Center , Manama, Bahrain; +973 1713 3666
Two International Finance Center (2IFC), Hong Kong
Height: 415 meters
Cost to build: $2.5 billion
Completion date: August 2008
Fast fact: In "Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life," Lara Croft leaps off the building. In "The Dark Knight," Batman leaps from 2IFC to IFC.
Two International Financial Center is the definitive point of Hong Kong's skyline and a symbol of its wealth.
Located in the center of Hong Kong's financial district, the shimmering 415-meter obelisk fits every criterion of a financial powerhouse.
The IFC was designed by César Pelli, the Argentine-American architect responsible for the Petronas Twin Towers and the World Financial Centre, among others.
It houses some of the world's largest financial institutes -- it's located on 8 Finance Street and has 88 floors -- the number eight is an auspicious digit in Hong Kong.
The building is topped with a crown that some liken to a beard trimmer.
IFC Hong Kong , 8 Finance St., Hong Kong
Burj al Arab, Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Height: 321 meters
Cost to build: $650 million
Completion date: December 1999
Fast fact: The hotel isn't, nor does it claim to be, a seven-star hotel.
That was a famous designation dreamed up by a creative journalist when touring the property.
Influenced by the shape of the dhow, the Burj al Arab isn't just a popular computer monitor wallpaper; it has also established itself as the distinctive icon of extravagance in Dubai.
Sitting on a man-made island, the "sailboat" has a private beach and a private curving bridge that connects it to the rest of the city.
On the 24-meter-wide helipad, 300 meters above ground, Tiger Woods has teed off and Roger Federer and Andre Agassi once played a tennis match.
Burj al Arab , Jumeirah, Dubai, United Arab Emirates; +971 4 301 7777
Taipei 101, Taipei, Taiwan
Cost to build: $1.8 billion
Completion date: 2004
Fast fact: The building is designed to resemble a growing bamboo stalk, a symbol of everlasting strength in Chinese culture.
Taiwan doesn't have many ostentatious records in its history, but Taipei 101, designed by local architect C.Y. Lee, brings one.
It was the first skyscraper to go past the half-kilometer mark and it sat at the pinnacle of the skyscraper world from 2004 to 2009.
Taipei 101 can also claim to have the world's fastest passenger elevator.
At an ear-popping 1,010 meters per minute, it takes 37 seconds to catapult passengers from the fifth floor to the highest point in Taiwan.
Taipei 101 , No. 45, Shìfǔ Rd, Xinyi District, Taipei City, Taiwan; open 9 a.m.-10 p.m. daily; tickets to the observatory NT$500 ($16.50) per person, children under 12 pay NT$450
Torre Agbar, Barcelona, Spain
Cost to build: $130 million
Completion date: 2004
Fast fact: Torre Agbar's design is inspired by a geyser shooting up, touching the sky above Barcelona.
"It has become not only a cultural symbol for Barcelona, but also a magnet for groups looking to bring attention to political issues." -- A. Eugene Kohn.
The 144-meter-high building was designed by French architect Jean Nouvel and has two cylindrical layers. One topped by polished aluminum and the second clear and translucent glass with 40 different colors.
With a total of 4,500 yellow, blue, pink and red lights placed over the facade, the building helps illuminate the city with floodlights at night, making it the most discernible figure for miles.
Torre Agbar , Avinguda Diagonal, 211, 08018 Barcelona, Spain
Burj Khalifa, Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Height: 828 meters
Cost to build: $1.5 billion
Completion date: January 2009
Fast fact: Not only is this currently the world's tallest building, it's home to the world's highest mosque, on the 158th floor.
The tower is more than twice the height of the Empire State Building in New York.
Standing 828 meters high and weighing half a million tons, Burj Khalifa towers above its city like a giant redwood in a field of daisies.
Gigantic doesn't begin to describe it.
This "desert flower" stands out comfortably among other skyscrapers and has become the symbol of Dubai's wealth.
It's been the world's tallest building since 2010, however this record may be broken soon by China's Sky City, which is expected to be 838 meters tall once completed.
Burj Kahlifa , Emaar Blvd, Dubai, United Arab Emirates; open daily from 10 a.m.-1 a.m.; tickets to the observatory deck cost AED125 ($34) with advanced booking and AED400 for immediate entry
30 St. Mary Axe, London
Height: 180 meters
30 St. Mary Axe, London.
Cost to build: $212 million
Completion date: 2003
Fast fact: Despite its curvaceous body, the entire building has only one piece of curved glass in its construction -- the lens at the top of the building.
"It's extremely creative, and has had an enormous impact on the London skyline, particularly concerning its sculptural shape." -- A. Eugene Kohn.
Some say it's in an egg shape; others call it the London Bullet Building or the Cucumber Building.
Officially named 30 St. Mary Axe, the harlequin-patterned building bulges out slightly from its base to reach a maximum height of 180 meters.
It stands at the center of London's financial district.
Together with its energy-efficient designs, its aerodynamic shape also minimizes wind loads and doesn't deflect wind to the ground, improving wind conditions in the vicinity, winning London pedestrians' hearts.
Cost to build: $80 million
Completion date: 2005
Fast fact: Tourists aren't allowed in the building because it houses apartments and offices.
Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava wanted to recreate the natural movements of animals and humans in this building.
By crossing the boundaries of strict geometry and modern technologies in architecture, he came up with a masterpiece that has more than a twist in its tail.
The spine-like skyscraper turns a full 90 degrees from top to bottom. In order to follow the rotation, windows lean either inward or outward up to seven degrees.
In line with Sweden's low-emission promise, the tallest residential building in the country is supplied with 100% locally produced renewable energy -- a true symbol of modern Sweden.
Turning Torso , Lilla Varvsgatan 14, 211 15 Malmö, Sweden
One World Trade Center, New York
Height: 541 meters
One World Trade Center, New York.
Cost to build: $3.9 billion
Completion date: May 2013
Fast fact: The height of 1,776 feet is a symbolic reference to the year in which the United States' Declaration of Independence was signed.
Part memorial, part statement, part billion-dollar office complex, One World Trade Center is one of the more controversial buildings of the new century.
Designed by David Childs (Skidmore Owings & Merrill), the skyscraper sits on the spot of the former 6 World Trade Center building, destroyed in the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.
It's meant to be functional, as well as beautiful.
"We fully understand the iconic importance of the tower, but it also has to be a highly efficient building," Childs has said. "If this building doesn't function well, if people don't want to work and visit there, then we will have failed as architects."
Security features such as biological and chemical filters in the ventilation system, reinforced walls and pressurized stairwells, as well as a stairwell exclusively for firefighters, have been included in the event of a future emergency.
One World Trade Center , West Street/Vesey Street, New York
Marina Bay Sands, Singapore
Cost to build: $6.3 billion
Opening date: April 2010
Fast fact: Marina Bay Sands is one of the world's most expensive standalone casino properties, with total costs estimated at more than $6 billion.
It's a little lopsided, with one end of the surfboard-like "SkyPark" overhanging one of the three towers by nearly 70 meters, but what Marina Bay Sands lacks in symmetry it makes up for in big numbers.
The hotel has 2,561 rooms.
There's a 150-meter infinity swimming pool within the 340-meter SkyPark.
More than $6 billion went into the property's development, including nearly $1 billion for the land.
But Las Vegas Sands chairman Sheldon Adelson expects to draw even by 2015 at the latest, with the casino alone generating annual profits of $1 billion.
Architect Moshe Safdie says the hotel's design was inspired by a deck of cards. Feng Shui consultants were also involved in the design approval process, though the feng shui aspects of the build are controversial.
Some claim the swimming pool on top of the towers appears to drown the financial district of the city, while others say the water will bring opportunities.
Marina Bay Sands , 10 Bayfront Ave., Singapore; +65 6688 8868
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The Millennium Footbridge across the River Thames lies between Blackfriars Railway Bridge and which road bridge? | London Visitor's Guide - The Millennium Bridge
The Millennium Bridge
The Millennium Bridge - Description:
The Millennium Bridge is a steel suspension footbridge over the River Thames between Bankside and the City of London. It lies between Southwark Bridge to the east and Blackfriars Railway Bridge to the west and is a useful crossing point for those wishing to walk between Shakespeare's Globe Theatre or Tate Modern on the south bank of the river and St Paul's Cathedral to the north.
The bridge is an elegant low-slung structure designed by Norman Foster and Antony Caro. The official title of the bridge is the London Millennium Footbridge but it was nicknamed the Wobbly Bridge because when it was opened in June 2000 people using it noticed a strange swaying motion from side to side - it became quite a sensation with local people who made special trips to try it out. After two days the bridge was closed and was not reopened until 2002 during which time modifications were made to damp down the effect. Today the bridge is a lovely route to take across the Thames although sadly it is now quite stable.
The Millennium Bridge - Getting There:
Nearest Underground Stations: Blackfriars (4 minute walk), Cannon Street (8 minute walk), St Paul's (8 minute walk)
(click on a station to find other places to visit nearby)
| Southwark |
Soprano Helen Porter Mitchell was born in Richmond, a suburb of which Australian city, from which she took her stage name? | Millennium bridge - River Thames in London - St Paul's Cathedral - Lundúnarferð - London - YouTube
Millennium bridge - River Thames in London - St Paul's Cathedral - Lundúnarferð - London
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Published on Nov 22, 2015
River Thames - The Millennium Bridge, officially known as the London Millennium Footbridge, is a steel suspension bridge for pedestrians crossing the River Thames in London, linking Bankside with the City of London. It is located between Southwark Bridge and Blackfriars Railway Bridge. It is owned and maintained by Bridge House Estates, a charitable trust overseen by the City of London Corporation. Construction began in 1998 and it initially opened in June 2000. Londoners nicknamed the bridge the "Wobbly Bridge" after pedestrians felt unexpected swaying motion. The bridge was closed later on opening day and, after two days of limited access, it was closed for almost two years while modifications were made to eliminate the motion. It reopened in 2002. The southern end of the bridge is near the Globe theatre, the Bankside Gallery, and Tate Modern, the north end next to the City of London School below St Paul's Cathedral. The bridge alignment is such that a clear view of St Paul's south façade is presented from across the river, framed by the bridge supports. See more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millenn...
The Hungerford Bridge crosses the River Thames in London, and lies between Waterloo Bridge and Westminster Bridge. It is a steel truss railway bridge – sometimes known as the Charing Cross Bridge – flanked by two more recent, cable-stayed, pedestrian bridges that share the railway bridge's foundation piers, and which are named the Golden Jubilee Bridges. See more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hungerf...
The River Thames is a river that flows through southern England. It is the longest river entirely in England and the second longest in the United Kingdom, after the River Severn. While it is best known for flowing through London, the river also flows alongside other towns and cities, including Oxford, Reading, Henley-on-Thames and Windsor. The river gives its name to three informal areas: the Thames Valley, a region of England around the river between Oxford and west London; the Thames Gateway; and the greatly overlapping Thames Estuary around the tidal Thames to the east of London and including the waterway itself. See more: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/River_T...
The Thames Path is a wonderful 184 mile walking path that runs from the source of the Thames at Thames Head in Gloucestershire following the iconic river through beautiful countryside and historic towns and villages to the city of London. Several sections of the path are also open to cyclists making for an attractive, safe and easy ride - See more: http://www.the-river-thames.org.uk/#s...
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In 1948 which South African became the first person from outside the UK to hold the post of Chancellor of Cambridge University, a post he held until his death in 1950? | England, A History of
A History of England
This article was contributed by Ian M. Matley, Professor of Geography, Michigan State University, East Lansing.
Long ages ago the British Isles formed a peninsula of continental Europe, and the English Channel was a broad plain. People and animals from southern Europe traveled across this plain and made their home in the dense forests that then covered Britain. The people belonged to the earliest stage of civilization, the Old Stone Age. They moved over the damp green woodland, stone ax in hand, hunting mammoths, horses, and reindeer. They lived in caves, had no domestic animals, and took no care of their dead.
Over an immense stretch of time the land subsided, and Ireland was separated from Britain. Later the sea flowed into the narrow Strait of Dover and made Britain also an island. New waves of colonists crossed over from the east. The people advanced slowly to the New Stone Age. In this period they mined flints for their weapons and polished them to give a sharp cutting edge. They laid away their dead in long or round chambers called barrows and heaped over them mounds of earth and stone. The remains found in these barrows reveal that these people tamed horses, sheep, goats, cattle, dogs, and pigs and grew wheat and barley and, later, flax to make linen.
Later, sea merchants from countries bordering the Mediterranean discovered the islands in the northern seas. The Phoenicians, who traded with people in many lands, came again and again to buy tin, which lay close to the surface in Cornwall. The native people learned how to smelt tin with copper to make bronze tools and weapons. With this knowledge the long Stone Age ended and the Bronze Age began. The people of Britain erected avenues and circles of huge granite slabs, like those at Stonehenge. These were probably temples.
Celtic Domination
Some five or six centuries before the birth of Christ, a tall fair people called Celts came across the channel in small boats. The Goidels, or Gaels (who are still found in Ireland and in the Highlands of Scotland), formed the first great migration. Then came the Brythons, or Britons (still found in Wales and Cornwall), who gave their name to the island of Britain. The Celts knew how to smelt iron and were skilled in arts and crafts. They became the ruling class, and the native folk adopted the Celtic language and the Celts' Druid religion.
Roman Rule
Julius Caesar raided Britain in 55 BC and again in 54 BC. Nearly 90 years later Rome undertook the conquest of the island in earnest. In AD 43 Emperor Claudius gathered a force of about 40,000 to invade the island. All the area that is now England was soon subdued and added to the Roman Empire as the province Britannia.
A widowed Icenian queen, golden-haired Boudicca, led a great uprising against the Romans in AD 60, but her barbarian horde was no match for the Roman soldiers. The people of Scotland were harder to subdue. Emperor Hadrian decided conquering them was not worth the trouble, so he had a wall built 73 1/2 miles (118 kilometers) long across the narrow neck of the island to keep them out. South of this wall the Romans built more than 50 cities and connected them with military roads. Some of these roads, such as the famous Watling Street, serve as the foundations for modern highways.
The cities contained Roman baths and open-air theaters; temples to Jupiter, Mars, and Minerva; and houses with colonnaded terraces, mosaic floors, and hot-air furnaces. Upper-class Britons in the towns spoke Latin and wore the Roman toga. Commerce and industry prospered, protected by Roman law. Later, when Rome became Christian, Roman missionaries spread Christian teachings in Britain.
In
AD 410 the Goths swept down on Rome, and no more Roman legions came to protect Britannia. The Britons, left to themselves, were unable to form a government. Local chieftains warred with one another. Barbarians from Scotland and pirates from Ireland ravaged the land. In vain a Briton wrote for aid to a Roman consul, saying: "The barbarians drive us to the sea; the sea throws us back on the barbarians."
Anglo-Saxon Invasions
Soon a more dangerous enemy appeared. Across the North Sea came bands of pirates in long black ships. They were the Teutonic peoples--Angles, Saxons, and Jutes--from the region of modern Denmark. They found the island easy to invade. In the south and west a low coast thrusts out toward the continent. From the coast navigable rivers lead inland across a rolling plain. The land itself, covered with green the year round, seemed miraculous. Centuries later people learned that the British Isles, so far north, owe their mild climate to the warm Gulf Stream.
The invaders plundered city after city and drove the Britons ever farther westward. Farmers and herdsmen followed in the wake of the warriors. The newcomers were pagans, worshipers of Odin and Thor, and had no use for Roman cities or Roman law. They cleared the forests for farmland and built longhouses grouped around the large log hall of their chief, which was decorated with carving and paint and hung with shining armor.
By
AD 600 the ruin of Rome's Britannia was complete. The original Celtic stock survived only in the mountains of Wales and in Cornwall. Except in these areas Christianity and the Celtic language died. Britain came to be called Angle-land (later England) after the Angles, and the people spoke Anglo-Saxon
The small Anglo-Saxon tribes gradually merged into seven or eight little kingdoms. The Jutes, a small tribe, held the Isle of Wight and land to the north. The Saxons established themselves in Wessex on the south coast. The Angles ruled Mercia in the Midlands, East Anglia on the east coast, and Northumbria in the northeast. When a king died an assembly called the witenagemot, meaning "meeting of the wise," chose a new king.
Mission of Augustine
In the year 597 Augustine, an Italian monk, landed with 40 followers on the coast of Kent. He had been sent by Pope Gregory I to win the Angles over to the Christian faith. He baptized Ethelbert, king of Kent, repaired the old Roman church at Canterbury, and founded a Benedictine abbey there. The pope made him archbishop for his services. Hence from that time on, the archbishop of Canterbury has been primate of the church in England
Christianity spread rapidly. Learned monks brought to England a knowledge of architecture, law, philosophy, and Latin. A new civilization began to take shape, but it was checked by another invasion.
Danes Invade England
The new invaders were Scandinavians from Norway and Denmark. The English called them Danes. Summer after summer these bold pirates rowed up the rivers in their longboats, plundered the rich monasteries, and went home with the gold and gems. Soon after 850 a great force remained in England, bent on conquest. Then permanent settlers poured in. The Danes were farmers and traders as well as warriors. When they founded a town--usually a port--they fortified it and opened a market. All of eastern England north of the Thames passed under the rule of the Danish jarls, or earls, and came to be known as the Danelaw, the part under Danish law.
The Danes would probably have wiped out Christianity in England if it had not been for Alfred the Great, king of Wessex. Alfred defeated the Danes' great army at Chippenham in 878 and forced the Danish leader to sign a treaty agreeing to leave Wessex free. The Danes promised also to be baptized, and many did become Christians. Alfred began English prose literature by translating Latin books into Anglo-Saxon. He also built schools and ordered the 'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle', the first historical record of England, to be begun.
A century after Alfred's time the Danes started once more to raid England's shores. In 991 the incompetent Ethelred the Unready tried to buy them off by paying them yearly a large sum in silver, called the Danegeld, or Dane tax, which was raised by a heavy tax on the people. Nevertheless the Danes came again, and in 1016 Canute, the king of Norway and Denmark, made himself king of England also. He proved to be a wise and strong ruler, but after his death his empire fell apart, and in 1042 the Danish dynasty in England ended.
The English line then returned to the throne with Edward, son of Ethelred. He had been reared by French monks and was called The Confessor.
Norman Conquest (1066)
While the Danes were invading England, other Norsemen raided the coast of France. On the southern shore of the English Channel they established the Duchy of Normandy. These Norsemen, or Normans, became French in language and culture. In the 11th century the Duchy of Normandy was rich, populous, and powerful.
When Edward the Confessor died childless, William, duke of Normandy, claimed the English crown. He was a second cousin of Edward, and he had exacted an oath from Harold, earl of Wessex, to support his claim. The English Witan nevertheless elected Harold king. William appealed to the pope. The pope supported William and declared Harold guilty of perjury.
William gathered together a "host of horsemen, slingers, and archers" and set sail for England. Harold met him with foot soldiers armed with battle-axes. The two armies clashed in the famous battle of Hastings on Oct. 14, 1066.
Harold was killed on the battlefield. The victorious William went up to London and was crowned king of England in Westminster Abbey on Christmas Day.
Feudal System Under William I
For five years William I was busy putting down revolts in his new kingdom. He seized the land of all Saxons who fought against him and distributed it among his Norman followers--except for vast tracts that he kept for himself as crown lands. On his own estates and on those of favored barons he ordered strong fortified castles built.
In return for the grant of land--called a fief--each lord had to swear loyalty to the king, furnish knights for the king's army, attend the king's court, and aid the king with money on certain occasions. Farmers were reduced to the class of serfs, or villeins, as the Normans called them. A villein could not leave the manor on which he was born. This system of land tenure was the basis of feudalism, which held sway all over Europe in the Middle Ages.
The efficiency of William's rule is shown by the survey he had made of all the property in England. His agents visited every manor, found out who owned it, how many people lived there, and reported what the feudal lord ought to pay the king in taxes and feudal service. The findings were recorded in the famous Domesday Book. It was called Domesday (day of doom) because no one could escape its judgment.
The date of the Norman Conquest--1066--is one of the most important dates in English history. The Conquest cut England's ties with Scandinavia and connected England with France. French, the language of the Norman rulers, became blended with the Anglo-Saxon speech of the common people, enriching the native language with many new words and ideas. Wooden churches and abbeys were replaced with beautiful stone buildings in the Norman style. Foreign monks and bishops, brought in by the Normans, made the monasteries centers of learning. Anyone who wanted to study went into the church as a matter of course. The king's secretaries, judges, and most of his civil servants were churchmen, because only churchmen had the necessary education.
When he was crowned, William I, the Conqueror, promised to govern according to the laws of Edward the Confessor. The Witan survived in his great council of advisers, the curia regis, which was attended by earls, barons, bishops, and abbots; but the council no longer had the power to choose the king. As feudal overlord of the whole country, William bequeathed England to his second son, William II. He left Normandy to his eldest son, Robert.
William II, Henry I, and Stephen
William II (called William Rufus, the "Red King") came to the throne in 1087. He was a harsh ruler and few mourned him when he was killed by an arrow--shot by an unknown hand--while he was hunting (see William, Kings of England). Robert had gone off on the First Crusade, to recover the Holy Land from the Turks. A third son, Henry I, was therefore able to become king without a struggle, in 1100. When Robert returned, Henry crossed the Channel, defeated him, and gained Normandy also. He gave both England and western France a peaceful, orderly rule.
Henry I exacted a promise from the barons to recognize his daughter Matilda as their ruler. However, when he died, some of the barons broke their promise and instead chose Stephen, a grandson of William the Conqueror. Stephen was a gallant knight but a weak king. Throughout his reign lawless barons fought private wars, each seeking to increase his power. Twice he was challenged by Matilda and her supporters, who nearly defeated him in 1141. When Stephen died (1154), the people were ready to welcome a strong ruler who would restore order.
Henry II Restores the Royal Power
The strong ruler was found in Henry Plantagenet, count of Anjou. His mother was Matilda (or Maud), daughter of Henry I of England; his father was Geoffrey of Anjou. He came to the throne of England as Henry II, first of the Plantagenet line of kings, who were to rule England for 245 years. By marriage and inheritance, he came into possession of all western France. He spent most of his long reign, 1154-89, in his French possessions; yet he became one of England's great rulers.
Henry II sent out trained justices (judges) on circuit to different towns in England to sit in the county courts. The judges kept records of their cases. When one judge had decided a case, other judges trying the same kind of case were likely to adopt the decision that had been recorded. In the course of years, legal principles came to be based on these decisions. Because this case law applied to all Englishmen equally, it came to be called the common law. The circuit justices also made more extensive use of juries and started the grand jury system in criminal law.
Henry carried on a long and bitter struggle with Thomas Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, who asserted the independence of the church courts against the king's authority. The church triumphed when Becket was murdered. After making peace with the pope, Henry did penance at Becket's tomb. Becket became a sainted martyr, and for centuries people made pilgrimages to his shrine at Canterbury.
Richard the Lion-Hearted, the brave and reckless son of Henry II, succeeded his father in 1189. After a few months he left England and went off on his long crusade. The country suffered little in his absence because Hubert Walter governed it better than Richard himself would have.
King John and Magna Carta
In 1199 Richard I was succeeded by his brother John, the most despicable of English kings. By a series of blunders John lost almost all his French possessions except the southwest corner. The English barons refused to help him regain his territory. Angered by his tyrannical rule, they drew up a list of things that even a king might not do. On June 15, 1215, they forced him to set his seal to this Great Charter (in Latin, Magna Carta) of English liberties.
Magna Carta is regarded as one of the most notable documents in history. The rights it listed were, in the main, feudal rights of justice and property that had been recognized by previous kings; but now for the first time these rights were insisted upon against the king's will. Thus an important principle was established--that the king himself must govern according to law. In later years, whenever a king over-extended his powers, the people could remind him of Magna Carta.
The Rise of Parliament
Henry III, John's eldest son, was crowned at the age of nine and ruled 56 years, 1216-72. He was pious and well meaning but incompetent and extravagant. The barons took a strong stand against him in Parliament. (The term parliament was gradually coming into use for the Great Council.) In 1264 the barons, led by Simon de Montfort, rose against the king and brought on the Barons' Wars. These wars ended when Earl Simon was killed in battle.
Henry III's son, Edward I, who ruled England from 1272 to 1307, wisely accepted the limitations on the king's authority. His parliament of 1295 is called the Model Parliament because it included representatives of both shires and towns as well as the Great Council. Many of the laws passed in Edward's reign exist in modified form today.
Edward I conquered and annexed Wales but failed in his effort to subdue Scotland. He died on his way north to put down an uprising led by the Scottish hero Robert Bruce. His incompetent son, Edward II, then took up the task and was decisively defeated by Bruce at Bannockburn. In 1327 Parliament used its new power to depose Edward II and place his son, Edward III, on the throne.
Flowering of English Medieval Life
The 13th century was a time of great enthusiasm for art and learning. In architecture the low, square towers and rounded arches of the Norman period gave place to the delicate spires and pointed arches of the early English, or Gothic, style. New learning was brought into England by friars and other scholars from the Continent. Oxford University won renown all over Europe. One of its teachers, Roger Bacon, a friar, urged the study of nature and the experimental method in seeking knowledge. The Crusades opened commerce with the Orient and brought in new ideas.
Towns became noted for particular manufactures. Craft guilds held a monopoly of manufacture, and merchant guilds controlled local markets. Foreign merchants were allowed to sell their wares only at certain annual fairs.
The Hundred Years' War and the Black Death
Knighthood was still in flower while Edward III was on the English throne from 1327 to 1377. The king himself excelled in "beautiful feats of arms." He soon had a chance to prove his skill. During his reign began the long struggle with France called the Hundred Years' War. In 1346 Edward's army won a brilliant victory at Crecy with a new English weapon, the longbow. The next year Edward took Calais, a French seaport. In 1356 his son Edward, the Black Prince, won the famous battle of Poitiers.
The war had come to a temporary halt when the Black Death swept over Western Europe in 1348-49, recurring repeatedly over the next century. More than a fourth of England's population perished. Whole villages were wiped out, and great areas of farmland went to weeds. The serfs who survived demanded high money wages. If their lord refused, they moved to another manor. The government tried to halt the rise in wages and bind the laborers to their manors once more, but it could not enforce its Statute of Labourers. The landlords sought labor at any price, and the laborers formed alliances to resist the law. John Wycliffe's "poor priests" (Lollards) and other traveling preachers increased the discontent by denouncing the landlords.
Richard II, grandson of Edward III, was 14 years old when a great band of peasants, headed by Wat Tyler and John Ball, marched on London (1381) from Kent. The boy king went out boldly to meet them. "We will that you make us free forever," the peasants asked. Richard promised to help them, and they returned peaceably to their homes. The king did not keep his promise. Within a week the judges hanged 1,500 ringleaders of the revolt. The feudal system of villenage, however, could not be revived. The serfs were gradually giving place to a new class of farmers--free yeomen.
Richard II thirsted for absolute rule and came into conflict with the powerful barons. His cousin Henry, duke of Lancaster, led a revolt against him in 1399, imprisoned him in the Tower of London, and compelled him to abdicate. Parliament then placed Henry on the throne of England as Henry IV.
The House of Lancaster ruled England only 62 years, 1399-1461. During this period three Henrys--father, son, and grandson--wore the crown. Their reigns were filled with plots and rebellions, murders and executions. Parliament had made them kings, and they needed its support to keep the throne. They therefore consulted it on all affairs.
The End of the Middle Ages in England
In 1455, two years after the Hundred Years' War ended, the House of York and the House of Lancaster plunged into a long and bloody struggle for the crown called the Wars of the Roses. Henry VI, of the House of Lancaster, was captured and murdered. Edward IV, of the House of York, spent most of his reign fighting to keep his crown. The last Yorkist king, Richard III, gained the throne when Edward's sons were declared not to be the rightful heirs. Peace came with Richard's death in the battle of Bosworth Field. The date of Richard's death--1485--may well be used to mark the close of the Middle Ages in English history.
The Wars of the Roses were the death throes of the feudal system. Battles and executions thinned the ranks of the nobles, and their fortified castles were no longer impregnable after the invention of gunpowder. A new aristocracy was pushing up through the broken crust of feudal society. In the towns a rich capitalist class appeared. Country squires--the landed gentry--also grew wealthy. The new aristocracy began to seek political power.
England was now the chief cloth-exporting country in the world. Enterprising employers, tired of the restrictions of the guild system, supplied wool to farmers and villagers to be spun and made up into cloth. This method of manufacture was called the domestic system, or the putting-out system. It grew steadily and caused the breakup of the guild system's monopoly. Serfdom also gradually died out. The gentry leased their land to yeomen who paid money wages to their free laborers.
French, the speech of the governing classes, had become blended with Anglo-Saxon into an English speech somewhat similar to the language used today. The great poet Geoffrey Chaucer wrote in this English and the Bible was translated into it. These works were among the first printed by William Caxton, who brought a printing press to England from Belgium in 1476. Printing made it possible for many more people to have books and helped spread the New Learning of the Renaissance. Before the 15th century ended, Spanish and Portuguese explorers had opened up new continents across the Atlantic Ocean.
Henry VII, First of the Tudors
After a century of wars, England enjoyed a century of almost unbroken peace under the Tudors. When this strong dynasty ended, England was a modern nation.
Henry VII, first of the Tudor line, became king by defeating and slaying Richard III in the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). He crushed the barons and made Parliament once more obedient to the king's will. Only the medieval church, still wealthy and powerful, remained an obstacle to his authority. He was popular with the commons--the middle classes in town and country--because he built up an orderly government, aided commerce and industry, and kept the country at peace and out of debt. With his encouragement, John Cabot in 1497 piloted an English ship across the Atlantic Ocean to Newfoundland, five years after Columbus discovered the New World.
The English Reformation
Henry VIII, ruled 1509-47, is famous as the king who had six wives in succession. When he put aside his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, the pope excommunicated him. Henry, enraged, had Parliament cut the ties that bound the English church to the papacy (1534) and forced the English clergy to acknowledge the king rather than the pope as the "only supreme head of the Church of England."
Henry's quarrel with the pope was made easier by the Protestant Reformation. Yet Henry claimed to be a devout Roman Catholic. He burned Protestants at the stake almost as readily as he hanged and beheaded the "traitors" who upheld the pope. His attack on the papacy was prompted in part by greed. By dissolving the monasteries he was able to seize their lands and buildings and the costly ornaments of the shrines. He used some of his new riches to fortify the coasts and build England's first real navy. At his death the royal fleet numbered 71 vessels, some of which were fitted out with cannon.
Henry VIII's only son, Edward VI, was ten years old when he came to the throne (1547), and he died at the age of 16. The Lord Protectors who ruled in his stead favored the Protestant cause. They forbade the Catholics to hold Mass and required Thomas Cranmer's English Prayer Book to be read instead of the Latin Mass.
These laws were speedily repealed when Mary, daughter of Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, ascended the throne. Mary had been brought up in the Catholic faith and she held resolutely to it.
Elizabeth I and England's Golden Age
Elizabeth I, Mary's half sister, in turn repealed Mary's laws. In her reign the Church of England took the form it has today. It kept the Catholic governmental organization of archbishops, bishops, and deans, but it rejected the headship of the pope. It permitted the clergy to marry, and it again ordered the reading of the English Prayer Book. Many people accepted this "middle way." But it was bitterly opposed by the Roman Catholics (Papists), and also by the extreme Protestants (Puritans), who insisted on a simpler, "purer" form of service with no "Popish rites."
The long reign of Elizabeth I, 1558-1603, was England's Golden Age. The Renaissance, which began in Italy in the 14th century, at last reached the northern island. "Merry England," in love with life, expressed itself in music and literature, in architecture, and in adventurous seafaring. William Shakespeare, poet and dramatist, mirrored the age in verse that lifted the English language to its fullest beauty.
Throughout the land could be heard the sound of hammers and saws of builders--a sure sign of prosperity. Elizabethan manor houses, usually built around an open court, blended the English style with the new Italian. English glassworks supplied small clear panes for lattice windows. The increasing use of brick made it easier to build chimneys and fireplaces even for common houses.
Exploration; Defeat of the Spanish Armada
English seamanship and shipbuilding reached the highest point they had yet attained. Francis Drake sailed around the world. Walter Raleigh made the first attempt to found an English colony in America. These and other courageous privateers reaped rich rewards--chiefly at the expense of Spain--from plundering, piracy, smuggling, and the slave trade. Elizabeth encouraged them on the ground that they protected Protestant England against Catholic Spain.
The defeat of the Spanish Armada (1588) established the superiority of English ships and sailors and made the English conscious of their ocean destiny. English merchants began to seek distant markets for their goods. In 1600 the now old queen chartered the famous East India Company, giving it a monopoly of trade with the Far East. From this small start Britain's Indian Empire was to grow.
Unemployment and Poor Relief
Not all classes shared in the increasing prosperity. The population had doubled since the Black Death and now numbered about 4 million. There was land hunger again. The growth of the cloth industry increased the demand for wool and made it profitable for the landowners to turn farmlands into pasture. They fenced in (enclosed) the pastures with hedgerows. "Where 40 persons had their livings," the laborers complained, "now one man and his shepherd hath all." Men thrown out of work by the enclosures became vagabonds and terrorized the townfolk. Whipping the "sturdy beggars" failed to solve the problem.
Throughout the Middle Ages the monasteries had given alms to the poor. Now that the monasteries were no more, the government took over the task. Elizabeth's famous statute of 1601, an Act for the Relief of the Poor, required every parish to levy rates (local taxes) for poor relief.
Children were to be put out as apprentices if their parents could not support them. Wages of artisans and farm laborers were fixed by law. All able-bodied men were compelled to work. They could no longer move freely from place to place. They were practically serfs again, except that they had no rights in the land. The Poor Laws enacted during Elizabeth's reign remained on the books, although with amendments, until after World War II.
Birth of the British Empire
The Tudor dynasty came to an end when Elizabeth I died in 1603. The crown of England then passed to the Stuart line of Scotland. The new king was called James VI in Scotland and James I in England. The two countries, having the same ruler, were now bound together in a personal union, but for another century they had separate parliaments.
James boldly announced that he would rule as an absolute monarch, responsible to God alone. This view of monarchy was called the divine right of kings. It was generally accepted on the continent of Europe, but it ran counter to the nature of the English people. Parliament resisted James at every point. By insisting that all people conform to the Church of England, he won the enmity of the Puritans and the Catholics. A small band of Catholic extremists, including Guy Fawkes, formed the Gunpowder Plot to blow up king and parliament together.
James allowed the navy to decay and suppressed privateering. Yet it was in his reign that colonial expansion began and the British Empire was born. The colony of Jamestown, Virginia, was started in 1607. In 1620 the Pilgrims landed on the rocky shore of New England. Other colonists swiftly followed. Some went to escape religious persecution and some to find free land. They spread English civilization into the wilderness.
Under Charles I, who ruled 1625-49, active colonization continued. Charles was glad to have the troublesome Puritans leave England. Great wealth flowed into London from American tobacco, the African slave traffic, and the silks and spices of India.
England's Civil War
Charles was as obstinate a despot as his father. In 1629 he dissolved Parliament, determined to rule by himself alone. Eleven years later he became involved in a war with Scotland and was obliged to summon Parliament to raise money for his armies. When Parliament refused to vote the money, Charles dissolved it. Before the year ended he summoned it again. This time Parliament forced the king to agree not to dissolve it without its consent. It lasted, with some interruptions, from 1640 to 1659 and is known as the Long Parliament.
Puritans dominated the House of Commons. Instead of aiding the king, they passed laws to curb his power. The king went in person to the House, determined to arrest five of its leaders, but "the birds had flown." Parliament issued a call to arms, a revolutionary act. The powerful new middle class put its great resources behind the Puritans. The king rallied the royalist aristocracy, High Church Anglicans, and the Catholics to his standard.
The Parliamentary army went into battle singing psalms. In 1644 the Puritans defeated Charles's Cavaliers at Marston Moor. In this battle Oliver Cromwell, the Puritan leader, won the name Ironsides. The next year he gained a decisive victory at Naseby.
In 1648 Colonel Pride, a Puritan, stood at the entrance to the Commons with a force of soldiers and allowed only Roundheads to enter. (The Puritans were called Roundheads because they cut their hair short. The Cavaliers wore long flowing locks.) The group that remained after Pride's Purge was called the Rump Parliament.
The Rump sentenced Charles to execution, and he was beheaded on Jan. 30, 1649. The Rump then declared England a Commonwealth (that is, a republic), without a king or a house of lords.
The Commonwealth and the Protectorate
The Rump Parliament governed England while Cromwell put down revolts in Ireland and Scotland with great cruelty. In 1653 he came back from the wars, dismissed Parliament, and "nominated" a Parliament of his own (called Barebone's Parliament after one of its members, Praisegod Barebone). The Commonwealth then took the name of Protectorate, with Cromwell as Lord Protector
The Puritans closed the theaters, suppressed horse racing, cockfighting, and bearbaiting, and made Sunday strictly a day of worship. Cromwell's rule was more despotic than the king's. Yet the revolution accomplished its purpose. When the monarchy was revived it became a limited monarchy. The Church of England never again tried to include all Englishmen.
When Cromwell died in 1658 his eldest son, Richard Cromwell, became Lord Protector. Too weak to control the army, Tumbledown Dick resigned the next year. In 1660 George Monk, one of Cromwell's generals, brought an army from Scotland and had the Rump of the Long Parliament recalled to dissolve itself. A new Parliament was elected and at once offered the crown to the exiled son of Charles I.
England Under the Restoration
The people of London joyously welcomed Charles II when he arrived from France with the gay court of Cavaliers that had been exiled with him. The bleak Puritan age was suddenly ended. Theaters opened again. Footlights, curtains, and painted scenery were introduced. For the first time women appeared on the stage. In spite of renewed censorship, Restoration dramatists delighted Londoners with sparkling comedies that laughed at Puritan virtues. John Dryden best represented the Restoration period. Its greatest poet, however, was still the Puritan John Milton, who had faithfully served Cromwell. Now blind, he retired from public life to write the greatest epic in the English language, 'Paradise Lost'.
England's greatest architect, Sir Christopher Wren, rebuilt St. Paul's Cathedral, following London's Great Fire of 1666. Science flourished along with the arts. Isaac Newton formulated laws of the universe. An observatory was established at Greenwich.
Catholics fared somewhat better than Puritans under Charles II. His "Cavalier Parliament" in 1662 passed an Act of Uniformity depriving of their offices all clergymen who did not accept everything in the Anglican Prayer Book. This act tended to throw all nonconformists (Independents, Presbyterians, Baptists, and the new Quaker sect) into a single class, called dissenters. To make things easier for Catholics, Charles issued a Declaration of Indulgence in 1672. Parliament forced him to retract this and passed a Test Act (1673), which made it impossible for Catholics to hold public office.
The Birth of Political Parties
Charles II leaned toward Catholicism. His brother James, heir to the throne, was an avowed Catholic. In 1679 an "Exclusion Bill" was presented in Parliament to bar James from the kingship. Charles prevented its passage by dissolving Parliament. The governing classes at once split into bitter factions-- the Tories, who opposed the bill, and the Whigs, who favored it. Thus were born the first great political parties in history.
The names Whig and Tory were both terms of derision. Tory was Irish slang for a "popish" outlaw. Whig was a term of contempt in Scotland for a fanatic Presbyterian. The Tories, descended from the Cavaliers, represented the landed aristocracy. They upheld the divine right of kings and the Anglican church. The Whigs, descended from the Roundheads, represented the commercial classes of the cities. They championed Parliament against the king and urged toleration for nonconformists.
Following the decline of Spanish and Portuguese sea power, the Dutch Netherlands became a serious rival of England in the Far East, in Africa, and in America. In the 17th century England fought three commercial wars against the Dutch (1652-54, 1665-67, and 1672-74). The Netherlands then dropped out of the race for world commerce and American dominions. In the third war the English joined forces with the French--not yet aware that France was to be the next rival England had to face.
The Glorious Revolution of 1688
Charles II died in 1685, and his brother, James II, stepped quietly to the throne. However, when a male heir to James was born, in 1688, Tory and Whig leaders joined together and decided to set aside the Catholic line of kings. They invited Mary, a daughter of James, and her Dutch husband, William of Orange, to occupy the throne as joint sovereigns. When William arrived from Holland, James fled to the continent.
Parliament was careful to lay down conditions for the new sovereigns. William and Mary accepted its Declaration of Rights, and Parliament speedily enacted it into law as the famous Bill of Rights. The act made the king responsible to Parliament and subject to the laws and provided that henceforth no Roman Catholic could wear England's crown. Parliament, and not inheritance or divine right, would determine the succession to the throne. This was the fruit of the so-called Glorious Revolution--a revolution without bloodshed. John Locke published a defense of the Revolution in which he proclaimed the supremacy of the legislative assembly as the voice of the people.
The Struggle with France
While England was in the throes of revolution, France, under Louis XIV, was achieving a dominant position in Europe. With internal conflict ended, England turned its attention abroad. In 1689 it joined with Holland and several German states in the War of the Grand Alliance against France. The war spread to America, where it was called King William's War. It marked the beginning of a long struggle to decide whether France or England was to control India and North America
When William died, in 1702, Louis XIV proclaimed James Stuart, son of James II, king of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Parliament, however, had provided that if William and Mary had no children, the crown should pass to Anne, a Protestant, daughter of James II by his first wife. James Stuart kept up his claim to the throne for 65 years and became known as the Old Pretender. His son, Bonnie Prince Charlie, known as the Young Pretender, made an unsuccessful attempt to obtain the throne in 1745
Queen Anne's Reign
As soon as Anne came to the throne in 1702, England entered upon another war with France to break up a threatened combination of France and Spain. This was called in Europe the War of the Spanish Succession. In America it was known as Queen Anne's War. The Duke of Marlborough led the English, Dutch, and Germans to brilliant victories, and the Treaty of Utrecht (1713) gave England important territories (all Nova Scotia and Newfoundland) in the New World.
Birth of the Kingdom of Great Britain
The most notable event in Anne's reign was the union of England with Scotland. Since 1603 the two nations had been loosely associated under the same king. The Act of Union (1707) united them in a single kingdom, called Great Britain, and joined their parliaments. Thereafter the government and parliament in London were called British rather than English.
Walpole, Britain's First Prime Minister
The Stuart line came to an end when Anne died, since none of her 17 children survived her. She was succeeded in 1714 by the nearest Protestant heir, George I, a prince of the House of Hanover, a small state in Germany
George did not speak English, and he was so wrapped up in his beloved Hanover that he took little interest in British affairs. He soon began to stay away from meetings of his inner council, or cabinet, and left the government in the hands of Sir Robert Walpole, the able Whig leader. George II, who ruled 1727-60, also stayed away from meetings of his ministers. Walpole made himself supreme in the government, selected his colleagues, and insisted they work with him or leave the cabinet. He thus became the first prime minister.
Walpole promoted trade and commerce and strove to avoid war. But in 1739 the British people became aroused over the story of Robert Jenkins, a sea captain, who claimed the Spaniards had boarded his ship and cut off his ear. Walpole was persuaded to declare war against Spain in 1739--the War of Jenkins' Ear. He resigned when this war merged into another continental war, the War of the Austrian Succession, in America called King George's War. When peace was made, in 1748, the real issue--whether France or Britain was to prevail in India and North America--was still unsettled.
Britain Wins French Territory
The struggle with France was renewed in the Seven Years' War, which broke out in 1756. This war brought to the fore a leader of genius, William Pitt, earl of Chatham. He carried on the struggle against France in America, Africa, and India, as well as in Europe and on the sea. The war cost France almost all its territory in North America and India and vastly extended Britain's empire. Horace Walpole wrote to Sir Horace Mann, in Italy: "You would not know your country again. You left it a private little island living upon its means. You will find it the capital of the world."
The American Revolution
Before the Seven Years' War ended, George III began his 60-year reign, 1760-1820. Determined to "be a king" and quite unfit to be one, he got rid of Pitt and put his own Tory friends in power.
The Tory government imposed new taxes on the American Colonies. The colonists insisted the British Parliament had no right to tax them without their consent. Pitt and Edmund Burke counseled compromise, but George III and his ministers obstinately insisted on their course. Troops were sent to enforce the decrees, and the colonists met force with force. On July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress adopted a Declaration of Independence. Two years later France entered the war on the side of the colonists. The Americans finally won their independence, and Britain lost the most valuable part of its colonial empire.
George III's attempt at personal rule was now completely discredited. Parliament regained its leadership. William Pitt, second son of the earl of Chatham, became prime minister in 1783 and held the position for 17 years.
Britain's Classical Age
The numerous wars of the 18th century were fought with small professional armies and hardly disturbed the even tenor of life in the "fortunate isle." Even the loss of the American Colonies was little felt. Britain was still mistress of the seas, and its mariners and traders soon built a second empire greater than the old. Before the century ended, the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution were to produce tremendous upheavals. Until the storm broke, Britain was quiet and settled.
The years 1740-80 were Britain's classical age--an age of art and elegance, of enlightenment and religious tolerance. Wealth and leisure became more widely diffused. In town and country the middle class put up comfortable, dignified homes in the Queen Anne and Georgian styles. Into them went furniture designed by Thomas Chippendale, Thomas Sheraton, and the Adam brothers, and beautiful china, glass, and silver plate made by skilled English handicraftsmen. The dress of the age was extravagant. Men wore bright-colored silk coats, waistcoats, and breeches; women appeared in hoopskirts and elaborate headdresses or high pompadours. The three great portrait painters of the age--Joshua Reynolds, Thomas Gainsborough, and George Romney--pictured the fashionable aristocrats, while William Hogarth caricatured both the fashionable and the common people.
Alexander Pope, a bitter satirist, was the leading poet of the age; but the most characteristic literary figure was Samuel Johnson, who gathered with other writers in London's coffeehouses to discuss and debate
The government was little concerned with reform. Individuals, however, were showing a growing sensitivity to the wretched condition of the poor. Hundreds of charity schools, Sunday schools, and hospitals were founded, all at private expense. John Howard made prison reform his life's work
William Wilberforce set in motion a campaign that was to free the slaves in all the British colonies by 1833. The new humanitarian spirit was quickened by the Methodist movement, a tremendous religious revival led by John Wesley
The Industrial Revolution
Britain now entered upon the greatest revolution in all history. It began with inventions in the textile industry--John Kay's flying shuttle, to speed up weaving, and James Hargreave's spinning jenny, for making yarn. These inventions transformed the textile industry, which had seen almost no change for thousands of years. By 1781 James Watt had developed a steam engine to run these and other machines. During the next 15 years cotton manufactures trebled. The great Industrial Revolution was under way.
The revolution in agriculture also began in the 18th century. In the time of Queen Anne, British landowners began to devote their wealth and personal attention to improving methods of cultivation. On their enclosed fields they practiced scientific rotation of crops and pasture and new methods of draining, drilling, sowing, and fertilizing. They began to grow root crops (turnips and potatoes) in fields instead of in small gardens. By selective breeding and proper winter feeding of stock they doubled the average weight of cattle and sheep.
Improved Nutrition and Transportation
Fresh beef and mutton replaced salt meat in the winter diet. Scurvy and other skin diseases, prevalent in earlier centuries, grew rare even among the poor. The increasing knowledge of medicine combined with better nutrition to bring about a sharp drop in the death rate--from 33 in a thousand in 1830 to 23 at the end of the century. As a consequence population increased enormously.
Great improvements in inland transport accompanied the revolutions in industry and agriculture. In Queen Anne's reign coal was still carried on packhorses. Roads were so poor that wheels stuck in the mud or broke on hard, dry ruts and huge stones. The government still took little interest in road building. Private initiative supplied the need. Turnpike companies laced the land with roads and made their profit by collecting fees at tollgates. Heavy wagons lumbered over the new turnpikes, and light stagecoaches sped along them at ten miles an hour, stopping at coaching inns for new relays of fast horses. In 1750 a great era of canal building began. Before the end of the century the land was interlaced with a network of waterways. Like the roads, the canals were built for profit by private companies.
Britain's threefold revolution was accomplished by private initiative. Individualism, the spirit of the age, freed men's minds and energies. Yet many government restrictions still shackled industry and commerce. Adam Smith, creator of the science of political economy, called attention to their harmful effect. Complete freedom of industry and trade, he said, would unleash even greater productive energy. His ideas, published in 'Wealth of Nations' (1776), gave direction to the new industrial age.
Challenge of Napoleon
The outbreak of the French Revolution ended the harmony of 18th-century Britain. Class faced class in bitter controversy. Thomas Paine upheld the revolutionists in a stirring appeal to the masses, 'The Rights of Man'. Edmund Burke eloquently voiced the attitude of conservative Englishmen: "The French," he declared, "have shown themselves the ablest architects of ruin who have hitherto existed in the world."
People were horrified when France set up a republic and executed Louis XVI. George III went into mourning and expelled the French envoy. France declared war, and Britain promptly joined the coalition of European monarchs against the new French republic. The war dragged on without much result until the young general Napoleon Bonaparte began to win amazing victories. By 1797 Britain was left to carry on the war alone. Britain, weak on land, was supreme on the sea. Admiral Horatio Nelson's victory of the Nile (1798) gave the British navy control of the Mediterranean and secured the route to India. At Trafalgar (1805) Nelson annihilated the French fleet. Napoleon, victorious on the Continent, was unable to invade the island kingdom; so he sought to ruin the "race of shopkeepers" by forbidding Europe to trade with Britain. Britain countered by blockading all European ports controlled by Napoleon. The United States, exasperated by Britain's interference with its commerce, declared war on Britain in 1812
Britain meanwhile had built up an army, led by the duke of Wellington. Wellington first drove the French out of Spain. In 1815 he commanded the British forces at the battle of Waterloo, which destroyed Napoleon's army. Before the year ended, a British ship carried off Napoleon to an island prison.
Effects of the War with France
Triumph over France brought Great Britain national glory and financial profit. The empire expanded and British control over sea routes was made secure. The increased demand for British goods stimulated commerce and quickened the pace of the Industrial Revolution. British blast furnaces and textile mills supplied munitions and clothes not only for the armies of Great Britain but for its allies as well.
English poetry reached the highest point it had touched since the age of Shakespeare. The ideas of the French Revolution ended the Classical Age on the continent as well as in Britain and gave birth to a new back-to-nature movement in art and literature called the Romantic Movement. The Romanticists extolled emotion as the Classicists had reason. They sought the beautiful in nature or in medieval art rather than in classical models.
Changes appeared also in dress and morals. Women ceased to powder their hair. Men discarded wigs and cut their hair short. Wool and cotton began to replace silks, satins, and velvets for both men and women. The reformers of the age sent missionaries into foreign lands, but they took little interest in the increasing wretchedness of Britain's poor.
The war swelled the fortunes of landlords, merchants, and manufacturers. To the poor it brought misery. Men and women toiled 12 to 18 hours a day in mines and factories. Wages were at starvation levels. Child labor was widespread. Laissez-faire (from a French term, meaning "let it alone"), the rough beginning of a free market economy, was becoming the order of the day in industry. The new freedom, unfortunately, did not extend to the working classes. They were forbidden to hold meetings, to organize unions, even to publish pamphlets. When workers rioted and smashed the new machines, the government made machine breaking a capital crime. Fourteen Luddites (so called after a feebleminded youth who destroyed two stocking frames) were put to death in Yorkshire in 1811.
Inspired by the revolt of the French peasants, the Irish rose against English rule in 1798. In 1800 Pitt succeeded in bringing Ireland into a union with Great Britain similar to that between England and Scotland. The Act of Union went into force Jan. 1, 1801, creating the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. The mass of the Irish, however, being Catholics, were still excluded from the government. George III allowed only Church-of-England Irish to sit in Parliament.
The Coming of Democracy
The factory system made tremendous changes in the social structure. Two new classes had appeared--the capitalists, or entrepreneurs, who owned the factories and machines, and the mass of the workers, who were dependent upon the capitalists for employment. Large manufacturing cities had risen in the north, close to the coalfields. Many of these cities had no representation in Parliament because no new boroughs had been created to send up members since the time of Charles II. In the south of England Tory proprietors of boroughs with few or no inhabitants (called pocket boroughs or rotten boroughs) continued to send representatives. Cornwall sent as many members to the House of Commons as all Scotland.
The spirit of reform was gradually making itself felt. Jeremy Bentham, called the utilitarian, made utility the test of law and said government should promote "the greatest happiness of the greatest number" by scientific legislation. Philosophic radicals such as James Mill advocated a laissez-faire individualism. Robert Owen showed in his New Lanark mills in Scotland that good hours, good wages, and healthy factory conditions could be made to pay.
William Cobbett, a radical journalist, led a campaign for universal suffrage because he believed workmen could improve their condition only by achieving the right to vote. The great industrial city of Manchester had no parliamentary representation. In 1819 a crowd of 60,000 assembled on St. Peter's Field to choose a "legislative representative." Mounted soldiers charged into the crowd, killed 11 persons, and wounded many. This Peterloo Massacre aroused great indignation and gave the deathblow to the old Toryism.
George III became insane in his later years and blind as well. For nine years before his death his incompetent eldest son governed as prince regent. (This period, 1811-20, is therefore known as the Regency.) On his father's death, the prince regent became King George IV
The more progressive Tories now began a series of reforms that opened a new era. Trade unions were partially legalized in 1825. Catholics were admitted to Parliament--after a struggle of many years--by the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829. Harsh criminal laws were reformed, reducing capital offenses to about a dozen. (In 1800, 200 offenses had been punishable by death.) In 1829 Robert Peel set up, for the first time in history, a civilian police force. Started in London, it spread quickly to other cities. The people called the police by either of Peel's names--bobbies or peelers
William IV, brother of George IV, began his short reign in 1830. The reform of Parliament had by now become the burning issue. Extreme Tories, led by the duke of Wellington, stood fast against it. Reform groups in Parliament, including the moderate Tories, drew together and supported Earl Grey, the Whig leader. Wellington's government fell and the Whigs came into power. Lord John Russell introduced a strong reform bill. In the face of tremendous opposition in the House of Lords, the Great Reform Act was passed in 1832.
Parliamentary Reform
The Reform Act created 43 new boroughs and deprived the rotten boroughs of their representatives in Parliament. The battle for universal suffrage, however, was still to be fought. The Reform Act slightly increased the number of voters by lowering the property qualifications; but the mass of the working people were still too poor to vote.
During the 1830s the Tories dropped their somewhat discredited name and became known as the Conservative party. The free-trade Conservatives (Peelites) gradually merged with the Whigs, who were to become the new Liberal party. Liberalism in the 19th century meant individualism. The true Liberal of that day championed freedom of thought and religion, freedom of trade, freedom of contract between the individual employer and the individual workman, and unrestricted competition. The party was made up chiefly of the industrial middle class.
The Victorian Age
William IV died in 1837, in the seventh year of his reign, and Victoria, his 18-year-old niece, became queen of Great Britain. Three years later she married her cousin Albert, a German prince. As prince consort, Albert gave valuable aid to the queen until his death in 1861
The young girl entered eagerly upon her new duties. Her long reign, 1837-1901, was to be immensely creative in literature and science, and before its close Britain reached the first place among nations in wealth and power. In the first years of her rule, however, the country seemed to be almost on the verge of revolution.
A series of bad harvests, beginning in 1837, continued into the Hungry Forties. England suffered a wheat famine, Ireland a potato famine. A high tariff on grain (called corn in England) kept out foreign wheat. The price of bread soared. A new Poor Law (1834) had ended the outdoor relief for paupers that had been begun in the time of Queen Elizabeth I. The workhouses that took its place (described in Dickens' novel 'Oliver Twist') were more dreaded than jails. Wages were miserably low. A tremendous migration began from the British Isles to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the United States.
A group of reformers called Chartists drafted in 1838 a bill called the People's Charter, calling for universal manhood suffrage. Meanwhile an Anti-Corn Law League had been formed in 1836, to campaign for the free entry of foreign wheat to feed the hungry poor. Sir Robert Peel, the Conservative prime minister, was finally converted to their view; and in 1846 he put through Parliament the famous bill repealing the Corn Laws. Wheat at once poured in from overseas. Prosperity returned, even for the farmers. The working people now began to turn their attention to the new trade unions and to the cooperative movement, started in 1844 by the Rochdale Pioneers.
Free Trade and Prosperity
The success of the Corn Law repeal encouraged the government to remove the tariff on other foods and on the raw materials needed by manufacturers. With free trade, Britain entered upon its period of greatest prosperity. Iron and steel output expanded greatly. Steam and machinery came to be used increasingly in every kind of manufacturing process. A tremendous boom in railway building caused many old posting inns to fall into disuse. By 1848 a large part of the new trackage was paralleled by telegraph wires. "Penny postage," introduced throughout the British Isles in 1840, provided a cheap and uniform postage rate prepaid with an adhesive stamp. Commerce was set free in 1849 by the repeal of the old Navigation Laws, which had permitted only British ships to carry goods between different parts of the empire. The application of steam power to oceangoing vessels stimulated the growth of the merchant marine and the navy. Commerce expanded enormously. In 1851 the country celebrated its industrial progress in the first great international fair, called the Great Exhibition. The government began to take more interest in the empire, which provided the manufacturers with both markets and raw materials. The Crimean War (1854-56) was fought to protect British and French imperial interests against Russia's threatened advance toward the Mediterranean and India. After helping the British East India Company put down the Sepoy Rebellion in India (1857), Parliament deprived the company of its political powers and transferred the government of India to the British crown
Wider Suffrage and Imperialism
The Reform Act of 1832 had benefited only the middle class. In 1867 Parliament took another long step in the direction of democracy by putting through the second Reform Act. This gave the vote to almost all adult males in the towns. The bill had been introduced by Benjamin Disraeli, a Conservative. Nevertheless the new voters, many of them workingmen, supported William Gladstone, Liberal leader. With Gladstone's first and greatest ministry, 1868-74, an era of reform set in.
The Education Act of 1870 set up elementary schools financed in part by the government. In the same year competitive examinations were introduced for employment in the civil service. The Trade Union Act of 1871 gave full legal recognition to trade unions. In 1872 the secret ballot was introduced in parliamentary elections.
Imperialism came into the ascendancy in 1874 with Benjamin Disraeli's Conservative ministry. Disraeli obtained for Britain financial control of the Suez Canal, key to Britain's eastern empire. In 1876 he had Queen Victoria declared empress of India. When Russia defeated Turkey and advanced close to Constantinople, he called the Congress of Berlin (1878), which checked Russian ambitions
During Gladstone's second ministry, 1880-85, a third Reform Bill was enacted, in 1884. This gave rural voters the same voting privileges as the townspeople. The "Grand Old Man" went down to defeat because he championed Home Rule for Ireland. The Irish question split the Liberal party into Home Rulers and Unionists. The Liberal Unionists, led by Joseph Chamberlain, gave their support to the Conservative party because they wanted no separate parliament for Ireland. A coalition of Conservatives and Liberal Unionists took office.
During the three ministries of Robert Salisbury, the government brought the navy to a high state of efficiency and secured for Britain the lion's share in the partition of Africa. To stimulate interest in the empire, it celebrated the 50th and 60th years of Victoria's rule (1887 and 1897) with magnificent "jubilees" attended by Indian princes and representatives of all the far-flung dominions and colonies. Before the century ended, the British were engaged in the Boer War (1899-1902) against the Dutch farmers (Boers) in South Africa. After some humiliating defeats, Britain won the war and annexed the two Boer republics, the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. Following annexation, Britain granted self-government to South Africa under the leadership of Jan Smuts, a Boer. Before the war was over, Queen Victoria died (1901), ending the longest reign in British history. Edward VII, her son, succeeded her.
An Age of Peace and Progress
The Victorians called their age "modern" and thought it superior to all past centuries. It was an age that envisioned an indefinite future of progress with peace and plenty. Wages and working conditions steadily improved. Dividends from British industry and from foreign investments supported a leisure class. The population of the United Kingdom increased in the last half of the century from 28 million to nearly 42 million people. The age was extraordinarily creative in literature and science. The poets Alfred Tennyson and Robert Browning expressed the Victorians' optimism and religious feeling. But it was chiefly an age of the novel, represented by William Thackeray and Charles Dickens, and the essay. In pure science, Charles Darwin's theory of evolution had worldwide influence
The Victorians did not excel in music or in painting. Architecture actually deteriorated, owing in part to the progress in technology that caused a breakdown of craftsmanship and tradition. Cheap manufactured knickknacks cluttered Victorian parlors.
The Labour Party and the New Liberalism
When Edward VII came to the throne, in 1901, Britain was no longer the only "workshop of the world." The Industrial Revolution was now in full swing in other countries. Germany, the United States, and Japan competed strongly with Britain in foreign markets. Unemployment soon became chronic. Serious unrest stirred the working classes.
Germany not only competed with British industry but had become the greatest military power on the Continent; and in 1900 it began to expand its navy, challenging British control of the seas. To meet this threat, Britain abandoned its "splendid isolation" and entered into an alliance with Japan in 1902. In 1904 it concluded the Entente Cordiale with France, and in 1907 it reached a similar agreement with Russia.
In 1900 the British Trades Union Congress held a conference to form a new political party. Delegates were invited from various socialist organizations. Chief among these was the Fabian Society. The Fabians were middle-class intellectuals who had been advocating national ownership of land and industry since 1883. The new party became known at once as the Labour party.
Fabian teachings had been spreading also in the Liberal party. The "new" Liberals of the 20th century no longer advocated a policy of laissez-faire in government. They had turned against individualism and classical economics and favored extending the powers of the state to abolish poverty. They still held to the 19th-century Liberal doctrine of free trade. On this issue they won the election of 1906. Labour party representatives supported the Liberal program of social legislation.
Lloyd George's Social Legislation
The driving power of the new government was David Lloyd George, chancellor of the exchequer under Herbert Asquith from 1908 to 1916. In 1908 he put through Parliament an Old Age Pensions Act granting pensions to all old people with a small income. On Jan. 1, 1909, over half a million men and women drew their first pensions.
Pensions and the constantly expanding navy vastly increased the expenses of the British government. In 1909 Lloyd George proposed heavy taxes on the wealthy and a new tax on land. The House of Lords rejected his budget.
A constitutional struggle took place that ended in the Parliament Act of 1911, which stripped the House of Lords of much of its power. The way was now open for the passage of a National Insurance Act (1912) to pay wage earners unemployment and sickness benefits.
In the midst of the parliamentary struggle Edward VII died (1910). He was succeeded by his only surviving son, George V.
World War I and Its Aftermath
On the eve of World War I the people of Great Britain were concerned with militant suffragettes, workingmen's strikes, and an Irish crisis. War broke out with startling suddenness on Aug. 1, 1914. Britain declared war three days later, and the British dominions and colonies were automatically drawn in. British and empire troops fought in France and Belgium, at Gallipoli, and in Palestine, while the navy held the seas and prevented food and supplies from reaching Germany.
Lloyd George became the war leader in 1916 when he succeeded Asquith as head of the Nationalist government, a coalition of Liberal and Conservative parties. The peace treaties, which he negotiated, added more territory to the vast British Empire in Asia, Africa, and the Pacific. The United Kingdom itself, however, was made smaller by an act of Parliament granting self-government to southern Ireland as a dominion of the British Commonwealth.
In 1918 Lloyd George's government passed an Education Act abolishing all fees in state-supported elementary schools. The same year it extended manhood suffrage and granted the right to vote to single women over 30 and married women over 35 who met certain property qualifications. In 1919 women became eligible for Parliament. Universal adult suffrage was not achieved until 1928.
The war had vastly increased the national debt. By imposing heavy income taxes, the government managed to balance the budget while increasing payments to the unemployed. Industrial peace, however, did not return. After a few years of prosperity, exports declined and unemployment rose. A wave of strikes engulfed the country.
The Conservatives deserted the Nationalist coalition and defeated the Liberals in 1922. The Labour party (which had come out openly for socialism in 1918) voted with the Liberals to turn out the Conservatives, and in 1924 Ramsay MacDonald was chosen to head Britain's first Labour government. He remained in office only nine months, going down to defeat partly because he advocated closer relations with Russia.
Under Stanley Baldwin as prime minister, the Conservatives returned to power for almost five years (1924-29). Again unemployment relief was increased. The cause of unemployment was the shrinking world market for British coal, textiles, and steel. The Labour party believed full employment could be attained by government ownership of basic industries. The unions called a general strike in 1926 to force through their demands. The strike was quickly ended except for the coal miners, the most distressed of the workers.
The regular election of 1929 favored the Labour party, and MacDonald formed a cabinet. The world depression dislocated international trade and currencies and plunged Britain into a financial crisis. The number of unemployed mounted to nearly 3 million. The leaders of the three parties then formed a coalition cabinet called the National government. MacDonald retained the premiership, but he now owed his support chiefly to the Conservatives. The Labour party had expelled him when his government introduced drastic economies. He resigned in 1935 and Baldwin again became prime minister.
Three Kings in One Year
George V died in January 1936, and his eldest son, Edward, the popular prince of Wales, came to the throne as Edward VIII. Before his coronation, the king announced his intention of marrying an American, Mrs. Wallis Warfield Simpson, as soon as her second divorce became absolute. Parliament and the dominions' governments disapproved. Edward abdicated on Dec. 11, 1936, and his brother, the duke of York, was proclaimed king as George VI.
Britain Abandons Free Trade
Since the repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846, Britain had been practically a free-trade country. Almost all other nations had put up tariffs that handicapped British exporters. When the world depression caused a slump in trade, the dominions asked Britain to import more raw materials from them. In return, they would favor British manufactures. In 1932 Parliament passed the Import Duties Act. The act imposed a basic tariff of 10 percent on all goods not specifically exempted. This paved the way for the Ottawa imperial conference in the same year, which worked out "preferential" tariffs within the empire.
The Statute of Westminster (1931) had recognized the complete control by the dominions of their foreign as well as domestic affairs. The Ottawa conference strengthened the ties of the Commonwealth by binding the members into a closer economic union. This, however, did not check the growing nationalism in India and other Asian dependencies.
Outbreak of World War II
In 1933 Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany and soon began to rearm the country. Britain, absorbed in domestic troubles, was unprepared for war. Hitler seized Austria in March 1938, then made demands on Czechoslovakia. Britain, along with France, adopted a policy of appeasement, hoping Hitler's demands could be satisfied short of war. Neville Chamberlain, who had become prime minister in 1937, believed he had achieved "peace in our time" when Hitler pledged at Munich (Sept. 30, 1938) that he had "no further territorial claims in Europe." Six months later Hitler broke the pact and took over most of Czechoslovakia.
Britain joined with France in guaranteeing Poland's independence. Hitler took no action until after the Soviet Union signed a peace pact with Germany (Aug. 24, 1939). Eight days later (September 1) his army marched into Poland. Britain and France declared war two days later.
The Battle of Britain
On May 10, 1940, Germany invaded Belgium and The Netherlands. On the same day Winston Churchill succeeded Chamberlain as prime minister. Britain lost most of its armament in the famed retreat from the Dunkirk beaches. When France fell in June the British began their "year alone" and suffered the furious onslaught of German bombers. "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duty," said Churchill, "and so bear ourselves that if the British Commonwealth and Empire last for a thousand years, men will say, 'This was their finest hour.' "
The battle of Britain was a victory that ranked in importance with the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Britain was saved from invasion by its navy and its air force. British and Commonwealth troops fought on the far-flung battlefields of this war, and British leaders played a strong role in the formation of the United Nations.
Six years of war cost the United Kingdom 397,762 in dead and missing and thousands of civilian casualties. Millions of properties were damaged or destroyed. Britain received extensive United States Lend-Lease aid but met most of the huge war expenditures by selling overseas investments, by large overseas borrowing, by domestic loans, and by a tremendous increase in taxation.
Britain's Socialist Revolution
In 1945 Britain held its first general election in ten years. The Labour party received an overwhelming majority. Clement Attlee, its leader, succeeded Churchill as prime minister. The party was elected on a socialist platform and at once embarked on a nationalization program. The state bought out shareholders in the Bank of England, the coal mines, all inland transport, aviation, gas, and electricity. It subsidized housing and food. It put through the "cradle-to-grave" social insurance plan drawn up under Churchill's ministry. It also set up a National Health Service to provide free medical care.
The postwar government faced grave financial difficulties. It cut imports to bare necessities and ruled that almost the entire output of Britain's factories must be sold abroad instead of in the home market. It fixed prices, rationed scarce goods, limited wages, and called on people to practice austerity.
To offset the loss of income from foreign investments, Britain needed to double its exports above the prewar level. In 1949 the postwar sellers' market ended, and the high prices of British products caused a swift drop in exports. The government scaled down the value of the British pound from $4.03 to $2.80. This made it possible for British manufacturers to sell their goods in dollar markets but increased the price of necessary imports from dollar countries. Foreign loans and credits, especially Marshall Plan aid from the United States, helped in financial crises and in the task of rehabilitating overage and war-damaged industrial plants.
Decline in World Power
The British Empire suffered severe losses in territory and world influence in the years 1947-49. India, Pakistan, and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) became self-governing nations within the Commonwealth, and Burma (now Myanmar) gained complete independence. Eire (southern Ireland) cut all ties with Britain and took the name of the Republic of Ireland.
On the continent of Europe, Britain no longer held its historic balance of power. For centuries it had helped prevent a strong nation from dominating the continent by throwing its weight toward that nation's rivals. Now the Soviet Union controlled all Eastern Europe. The only other world power was the United States. It used its influence to organize the nations of Western Europe for cooperation in defense and economic progress. Britain was not ready to share in a united Europe. It joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), formed in 1949 to meet the threat of Soviet aggression, and expanded its armament production. British land, sea, and air forces shared in the United Nations action in South Korea in 1950-53. Later, Britain joined the Central Treaty Organization (CENTO) of the Middle East and the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO).
In the 1950s many of Britain's postwar problems remained unsolved, but its economy rode on a wave of prosperity. Manufacturing output exceeded prewar production early in the decade. In 1959 the output of steel had risen 55 percent above that of 1938. Between 1949 and 1959 domestic production increased and exports rose by 40 percent. Most Britons in the early 1960s were earning twice as much as they had been in 1949. In 1951 the Conservatives returned to power. Winston Churchill, then 76, again became premier. On Feb. 6, 1952, George VI died. His elder daughter succeeded him as Elizabeth II.
The Conservatives lifted certain controls set by the Socialist government. In 1953 they denationalized iron and steel and trucking. Food rationing ended in 1954. Churchill resigned as premier in 1955 and was succeeded by Sir Anthony Eden.
Great Britain withdrew its last troops from the Suez Canal zone in June 1956, according to an earlier agreement. In July Egypt nationalized the Suez Canal. Britain and France protested vigorously. In October Israeli forces invaded Egypt. After demanding a cease-fire between them, Britain and France sent forces into the canal zone. They were branded as aggressors in the United Nations. The Anglo-French troops withdrew as a United Nations task force moved in. In January 1957 Eden resigned as prime minister and was succeeded by Harold Macmillan.
The death knell of colonialism sounded in the 1950s and 1960s as most of the foreign territories of the European powers won independence. The British had trained their colonies for self-government, so they usually parted with Britain as friends and the new nations remained in the Commonwealth. A notable exception was South Africa, which became a republic and left the Commonwealth in 1961. Throughout the 1960s independence was achieved by more than 20 British colonies and trusteeships in Africa, Asia, South America, and the West Indies. By the mid-1980s almost all of the Pacific and West Indies island units had also become independent. The secessionist state of Rhodesia, which had unilaterally declared itself independent (a status not recognized by Britain) in 1965 and a republic in 1970, reverted to colonial status in 1979 before finally achieving independence as Zimbabwe in 1980. In 1997 Hong Kong returned to complete Chinese control for the first time since the middle of the 19th century.
Post-1950s Leadership
In October 1963 Macmillan resigned. He was succeeded by another Conservative, Sir Alexander Frederick Douglas-Home. In 1964 Labourite Harold Wilson became prime minister. After a Conservative victory in 1970, Edward Heath took office. A pay strike by coal miners, in the midst of a worldwide energy crisis, led Heath to call a new election in February 1974, and Wilson returned as prime minister.
Wilson resigned in March 1976 and was succeeded by another Labourite, James Callaghan. In 1979 Callaghan, who had headed a minority government for two years, became the first British prime minister since 1924 to lose office after a no-confidence motion. Margaret Thatcher, who had been the Conservative party leader since 1975, became Britain's first woman prime minister.
War with Argentina.
In 1982 Britain went to war with Argentina over a faraway dependency in the South Atlantic. Known as the Islas Malvinas in Argentina and the Falkland Islands in Britain, the land had been the subject of debate between the two countries ever since Britain reclaimed the islands as a crown colony in 1833. The issue of their sovereignty was shifted to the United Nations in 1964, and diplomatic discussions began the next year. Argentina's invasion of the Falklands 17 years later, while these negotiations continued, came as a complete surprise. Britain's recapture of the islands ten weeks later restored Conservative popularity and encouraged Thatcher to call a general election in 1983, a year earlier than required. Her Conservative party won an overwhelming victory.
Coal miners' strike.
A bitter coal miners' strike dominated 1984. The government was determined to close 20 or more uneconomical mines and to exercise its constitutional and political authority. Although the year was marked by violence and much political wrangling, the striking miners went back to work almost exactly a year later. The government's victory tilted the balance of power against the trade union movement.
Soccer tragedies.
Increased fear of inner-city rioting, as well as terrorism, caused English police to break with tradition and carry guns openly. During the 1985 European soccer finals in Brussels, unruly supporters of the team from Liverpool were held responsible for 39 deaths in the collapse of a stadium wall. In a rush on the overcrowded terraces (standing area) of a Sheffield stadium in 1989, 94 spectators died.
End of Thatcherism. In 1987 Thatcher became the first British prime minister in more than 150 years to win a third consecutive election. By 1990 she had become the longest-serving British leader of the century, but her 15-year tenure as head of the Conservative party ended in that year. The reasons for discontent with Thatcherism ranged from her domineering personal style to the abolition of the local property tax in favor of a flat-rate community charge, or poll tax. With loss of power, Thatcher resigned in November 1990. Her successor as prime minister was John Major, a top minister in her cabinet
In 1992 elections Major led the Conservatives to victory again, extending their winning streak to four elections since 1979. During his second term, however, Major came under severe scrutiny from opponents inside and outside the Conservative party. In particular, the question of British integration in the EU split the party. In late 1996 the Conservatives lost their majority in Parliament for the first time since they wrested control of the government from the Labour party in 1979.
Rise of New Labour.
As the Conservatives splintered, they faced a serious threat from popular Labour party leader Tony Blair. Labour had suffered repeated Parliamentary losses, and many suspected that the party had lost touch with the British voters when Blair took over its leadership in 1994. Blair refashioned the Labour party as "New" Labour, dumping controversial party platforms that hinted of the Labour party's past affiliation with socialist causes, such as the nationalization of industries. On May 1, 1997, Blair became the youngest person elected prime minister of Britain in the 20th century as he led the Labour party to a landslide victory over the Conservatives. Labour won 43 percent of the popular vote and captured 418 out of a total of 659 seats in the British Parliament. The Conservative party, en route to its worst finish since 1832, won only 30 percent of the vote and secured only 165 seats in Parliament, down from a pre-election total of 323 seats.
European Union. In 1959 Great Britain helped found the European Free Trade Association (EFTA). The more tightly knit European Economic Community (EEC) made greater economic gains, however, and the Macmillan government sought EEC entry to stimulate Britain's trade. Since the tariff agreements between Commonwealth countries conflicted with EEC regulations, long negotiations and compromises were necessary. France vetoed Britain's bid for EEC membership in 1963 and again in 1967. On Jan. 1, 1973, Britain finally joined the group, by then renamed the European Communities (EC) and later the European Union (EU). In 1988 Thatcher attacked a plan to establish a European federal economic and political state with a central bank and a common community currency. Her continued hard line against greater EC integration led to the division within her Conservative party that contributed to her downfall in 1990.
Major was chosen as head of the Conservative party in 1990 after staking his bid to power on the idea of British integration in the EU. Many British Conservatives, however, began to lose confidence in the proposed creation of a single economic currency, known as the euro, on the grounds that the single currency system was a threat to national sovereignty. Some members of the party, known as euroskeptics, suggested that Major abandon plans to integrate British currency into the single-currency system. Divisions within the Conservative ranks concerning the question of integration contributed to the party's defeat in 1997. Following his election, Blair, who had described his stance on the EU as a "wait and see" policy during his 1997 campaign, emerged as a strong proponent for the strict continuance of the EU budgetary guidelines.
Northern Ireland. A general strike in Northern Ireland in May 1974 led to the collapse of its five-month-old coalition government and forced Britain to resume direct rule over the province. British attempts to help stabilize the long-standing dispute between the Protestant majority and the Roman Catholic minority continued over the next decade. In a move strongly opposed by the Protestants, a 1985 accord with the Republic of Ireland gave it a consultant role in the governing of Northern Ireland. Incidents of terrorism persisted--for example, a bombing in Northern Ireland that killed 11 people in 1987, the shooting deaths of three Irish Republican Army (IRA) terrorists in 1988, and the bombing deaths of ten British military band students in 1989. In 1991 the IRA fired three mortar rounds at 10 Downing Street, the prime minister's official residence.
In August 1994 the IRA declared a cease-fire. Disappointed by the slow progress of peace efforts, however, the IRA shattered the cease-fire with a series of bombings in February 1996. In June of that year negotiations aimed at reaching a settlement to the conflict began in Belfast. The talks were attended by the British and Irish governments and all the major political parties in Northern Ireland except Sinn Fein, the political wing of the IRA, which was excluded by Major and Prime Minister John Bruton of Ireland until the IRA reinstituted its cease-fire. In July 1997 the IRA resumed the cease-fire, clearing the way for the participation of Sinn Fein in multiparty discussions that began in September of that year. At the start of the talks Sinn Fein agreed to renounce the use of violence and terror as means of settling the territorial dispute. In December 1997 Gerry Adams, the leader of Sinn Fein, made a historic visit to 10 Downing Street to meet with Prime Minister Blair to discuss the peace process. The negotiations in Belfast yielded a landmark accord in April 1998 designed to end direct British rule over Northern Ireland and bring about a lasting peace.
This article was contributed by Ian M. Matley, Professor of Geography, Michigan State University, East Lansing.
| Jan Smuts |
Deadheads are fans of which American band? | England, A History of
A History of England
This article was contributed by Ian M. Matley, Professor of Geography, Michigan State University, East Lansing.
Long ages ago the British Isles formed a peninsula of continental Europe, and the English Channel was a broad plain. People and animals from southern Europe traveled across this plain and made their home in the dense forests that then covered Britain. The people belonged to the earliest stage of civilization, the Old Stone Age. They moved over the damp green woodland, stone ax in hand, hunting mammoths, horses, and reindeer. They lived in caves, had no domestic animals, and took no care of their dead.
Over an immense stretch of time the land subsided, and Ireland was separated from Britain. Later the sea flowed into the narrow Strait of Dover and made Britain also an island. New waves of colonists crossed over from the east. The people advanced slowly to the New Stone Age. In this period they mined flints for their weapons and polished them to give a sharp cutting edge. They laid away their dead in long or round chambers called barrows and heaped over them mounds of earth and stone. The remains found in these barrows reveal that these people tamed horses, sheep, goats, cattle, dogs, and pigs and grew wheat and barley and, later, flax to make linen.
Later, sea merchants from countries bordering the Mediterranean discovered the islands in the northern seas. The Phoenicians, who traded with people in many lands, came again and again to buy tin, which lay close to the surface in Cornwall. The native people learned how to smelt tin with copper to make bronze tools and weapons. With this knowledge the long Stone Age ended and the Bronze Age began. The people of Britain erected avenues and circles of huge granite slabs, like those at Stonehenge. These were probably temples.
Celtic Domination
Some five or six centuries before the birth of Christ, a tall fair people called Celts came across the channel in small boats. The Goidels, or Gaels (who are still found in Ireland and in the Highlands of Scotland), formed the first great migration. Then came the Brythons, or Britons (still found in Wales and Cornwall), who gave their name to the island of Britain. The Celts knew how to smelt iron and were skilled in arts and crafts. They became the ruling class, and the native folk adopted the Celtic language and the Celts' Druid religion.
Roman Rule
Julius Caesar raided Britain in 55 BC and again in 54 BC. Nearly 90 years later Rome undertook the conquest of the island in earnest. In AD 43 Emperor Claudius gathered a force of about 40,000 to invade the island. All the area that is now England was soon subdued and added to the Roman Empire as the province Britannia.
A widowed Icenian queen, golden-haired Boudicca, led a great uprising against the Romans in AD 60, but her barbarian horde was no match for the Roman soldiers. The people of Scotland were harder to subdue. Emperor Hadrian decided conquering them was not worth the trouble, so he had a wall built 73 1/2 miles (118 kilometers) long across the narrow neck of the island to keep them out. South of this wall the Romans built more than 50 cities and connected them with military roads. Some of these roads, such as the famous Watling Street, serve as the foundations for modern highways.
The cities contained Roman baths and open-air theaters; temples to Jupiter, Mars, and Minerva; and houses with colonnaded terraces, mosaic floors, and hot-air furnaces. Upper-class Britons in the towns spoke Latin and wore the Roman toga. Commerce and industry prospered, protected by Roman law. Later, when Rome became Christian, Roman missionaries spread Christian teachings in Britain.
In
AD 410 the Goths swept down on Rome, and no more Roman legions came to protect Britannia. The Britons, left to themselves, were unable to form a government. Local chieftains warred with one another. Barbarians from Scotland and pirates from Ireland ravaged the land. In vain a Briton wrote for aid to a Roman consul, saying: "The barbarians drive us to the sea; the sea throws us back on the barbarians."
Anglo-Saxon Invasions
Soon a more dangerous enemy appeared. Across the North Sea came bands of pirates in long black ships. They were the Teutonic peoples--Angles, Saxons, and Jutes--from the region of modern Denmark. They found the island easy to invade. In the south and west a low coast thrusts out toward the continent. From the coast navigable rivers lead inland across a rolling plain. The land itself, covered with green the year round, seemed miraculous. Centuries later people learned that the British Isles, so far north, owe their mild climate to the warm Gulf Stream.
The invaders plundered city after city and drove the Britons ever farther westward. Farmers and herdsmen followed in the wake of the warriors. The newcomers were pagans, worshipers of Odin and Thor, and had no use for Roman cities or Roman law. They cleared the forests for farmland and built longhouses grouped around the large log hall of their chief, which was decorated with carving and paint and hung with shining armor.
By
AD 600 the ruin of Rome's Britannia was complete. The original Celtic stock survived only in the mountains of Wales and in Cornwall. Except in these areas Christianity and the Celtic language died. Britain came to be called Angle-land (later England) after the Angles, and the people spoke Anglo-Saxon
The small Anglo-Saxon tribes gradually merged into seven or eight little kingdoms. The Jutes, a small tribe, held the Isle of Wight and land to the north. The Saxons established themselves in Wessex on the south coast. The Angles ruled Mercia in the Midlands, East Anglia on the east coast, and Northumbria in the northeast. When a king died an assembly called the witenagemot, meaning "meeting of the wise," chose a new king.
Mission of Augustine
In the year 597 Augustine, an Italian monk, landed with 40 followers on the coast of Kent. He had been sent by Pope Gregory I to win the Angles over to the Christian faith. He baptized Ethelbert, king of Kent, repaired the old Roman church at Canterbury, and founded a Benedictine abbey there. The pope made him archbishop for his services. Hence from that time on, the archbishop of Canterbury has been primate of the church in England
Christianity spread rapidly. Learned monks brought to England a knowledge of architecture, law, philosophy, and Latin. A new civilization began to take shape, but it was checked by another invasion.
Danes Invade England
The new invaders were Scandinavians from Norway and Denmark. The English called them Danes. Summer after summer these bold pirates rowed up the rivers in their longboats, plundered the rich monasteries, and went home with the gold and gems. Soon after 850 a great force remained in England, bent on conquest. Then permanent settlers poured in. The Danes were farmers and traders as well as warriors. When they founded a town--usually a port--they fortified it and opened a market. All of eastern England north of the Thames passed under the rule of the Danish jarls, or earls, and came to be known as the Danelaw, the part under Danish law.
The Danes would probably have wiped out Christianity in England if it had not been for Alfred the Great, king of Wessex. Alfred defeated the Danes' great army at Chippenham in 878 and forced the Danish leader to sign a treaty agreeing to leave Wessex free. The Danes promised also to be baptized, and many did become Christians. Alfred began English prose literature by translating Latin books into Anglo-Saxon. He also built schools and ordered the 'Anglo-Saxon Chronicle', the first historical record of England, to be begun.
A century after Alfred's time the Danes started once more to raid England's shores. In 991 the incompetent Ethelred the Unready tried to buy them off by paying them yearly a large sum in silver, called the Danegeld, or Dane tax, which was raised by a heavy tax on the people. Nevertheless the Danes came again, and in 1016 Canute, the king of Norway and Denmark, made himself king of England also. He proved to be a wise and strong ruler, but after his death his empire fell apart, and in 1042 the Danish dynasty in England ended.
The English line then returned to the throne with Edward, son of Ethelred. He had been reared by French monks and was called The Confessor.
Norman Conquest (1066)
While the Danes were invading England, other Norsemen raided the coast of France. On the southern shore of the English Channel they established the Duchy of Normandy. These Norsemen, or Normans, became French in language and culture. In the 11th century the Duchy of Normandy was rich, populous, and powerful.
When Edward the Confessor died childless, William, duke of Normandy, claimed the English crown. He was a second cousin of Edward, and he had exacted an oath from Harold, earl of Wessex, to support his claim. The English Witan nevertheless elected Harold king. William appealed to the pope. The pope supported William and declared Harold guilty of perjury.
William gathered together a "host of horsemen, slingers, and archers" and set sail for England. Harold met him with foot soldiers armed with battle-axes. The two armies clashed in the famous battle of Hastings on Oct. 14, 1066.
Harold was killed on the battlefield. The victorious William went up to London and was crowned king of England in Westminster Abbey on Christmas Day.
Feudal System Under William I
For five years William I was busy putting down revolts in his new kingdom. He seized the land of all Saxons who fought against him and distributed it among his Norman followers--except for vast tracts that he kept for himself as crown lands. On his own estates and on those of favored barons he ordered strong fortified castles built.
In return for the grant of land--called a fief--each lord had to swear loyalty to the king, furnish knights for the king's army, attend the king's court, and aid the king with money on certain occasions. Farmers were reduced to the class of serfs, or villeins, as the Normans called them. A villein could not leave the manor on which he was born. This system of land tenure was the basis of feudalism, which held sway all over Europe in the Middle Ages.
The efficiency of William's rule is shown by the survey he had made of all the property in England. His agents visited every manor, found out who owned it, how many people lived there, and reported what the feudal lord ought to pay the king in taxes and feudal service. The findings were recorded in the famous Domesday Book. It was called Domesday (day of doom) because no one could escape its judgment.
The date of the Norman Conquest--1066--is one of the most important dates in English history. The Conquest cut England's ties with Scandinavia and connected England with France. French, the language of the Norman rulers, became blended with the Anglo-Saxon speech of the common people, enriching the native language with many new words and ideas. Wooden churches and abbeys were replaced with beautiful stone buildings in the Norman style. Foreign monks and bishops, brought in by the Normans, made the monasteries centers of learning. Anyone who wanted to study went into the church as a matter of course. The king's secretaries, judges, and most of his civil servants were churchmen, because only churchmen had the necessary education.
When he was crowned, William I, the Conqueror, promised to govern according to the laws of Edward the Confessor. The Witan survived in his great council of advisers, the curia regis, which was attended by earls, barons, bishops, and abbots; but the council no longer had the power to choose the king. As feudal overlord of the whole country, William bequeathed England to his second son, William II. He left Normandy to his eldest son, Robert.
William II, Henry I, and Stephen
William II (called William Rufus, the "Red King") came to the throne in 1087. He was a harsh ruler and few mourned him when he was killed by an arrow--shot by an unknown hand--while he was hunting (see William, Kings of England). Robert had gone off on the First Crusade, to recover the Holy Land from the Turks. A third son, Henry I, was therefore able to become king without a struggle, in 1100. When Robert returned, Henry crossed the Channel, defeated him, and gained Normandy also. He gave both England and western France a peaceful, orderly rule.
Henry I exacted a promise from the barons to recognize his daughter Matilda as their ruler. However, when he died, some of the barons broke their promise and instead chose Stephen, a grandson of William the Conqueror. Stephen was a gallant knight but a weak king. Throughout his reign lawless barons fought private wars, each seeking to increase his power. Twice he was challenged by Matilda and her supporters, who nearly defeated him in 1141. When Stephen died (1154), the people were ready to welcome a strong ruler who would restore order.
Henry II Restores the Royal Power
The strong ruler was found in Henry Plantagenet, count of Anjou. His mother was Matilda (or Maud), daughter of Henry I of England; his father was Geoffrey of Anjou. He came to the throne of England as Henry II, first of the Plantagenet line of kings, who were to rule England for 245 years. By marriage and inheritance, he came into possession of all western France. He spent most of his long reign, 1154-89, in his French possessions; yet he became one of England's great rulers.
Henry II sent out trained justices (judges) on circuit to different towns in England to sit in the county courts. The judges kept records of their cases. When one judge had decided a case, other judges trying the same kind of case were likely to adopt the decision that had been recorded. In the course of years, legal principles came to be based on these decisions. Because this case law applied to all Englishmen equally, it came to be called the common law. The circuit justices also made more extensive use of juries and started the grand jury system in criminal law.
Henry carried on a long and bitter struggle with Thomas Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, who asserted the independence of the church courts against the king's authority. The church triumphed when Becket was murdered. After making peace with the pope, Henry did penance at Becket's tomb. Becket became a sainted martyr, and for centuries people made pilgrimages to his shrine at Canterbury.
Richard the Lion-Hearted, the brave and reckless son of Henry II, succeeded his father in 1189. After a few months he left England and went off on his long crusade. The country suffered little in his absence because Hubert Walter governed it better than Richard himself would have.
King John and Magna Carta
In 1199 Richard I was succeeded by his brother John, the most despicable of English kings. By a series of blunders John lost almost all his French possessions except the southwest corner. The English barons refused to help him regain his territory. Angered by his tyrannical rule, they drew up a list of things that even a king might not do. On June 15, 1215, they forced him to set his seal to this Great Charter (in Latin, Magna Carta) of English liberties.
Magna Carta is regarded as one of the most notable documents in history. The rights it listed were, in the main, feudal rights of justice and property that had been recognized by previous kings; but now for the first time these rights were insisted upon against the king's will. Thus an important principle was established--that the king himself must govern according to law. In later years, whenever a king over-extended his powers, the people could remind him of Magna Carta.
The Rise of Parliament
Henry III, John's eldest son, was crowned at the age of nine and ruled 56 years, 1216-72. He was pious and well meaning but incompetent and extravagant. The barons took a strong stand against him in Parliament. (The term parliament was gradually coming into use for the Great Council.) In 1264 the barons, led by Simon de Montfort, rose against the king and brought on the Barons' Wars. These wars ended when Earl Simon was killed in battle.
Henry III's son, Edward I, who ruled England from 1272 to 1307, wisely accepted the limitations on the king's authority. His parliament of 1295 is called the Model Parliament because it included representatives of both shires and towns as well as the Great Council. Many of the laws passed in Edward's reign exist in modified form today.
Edward I conquered and annexed Wales but failed in his effort to subdue Scotland. He died on his way north to put down an uprising led by the Scottish hero Robert Bruce. His incompetent son, Edward II, then took up the task and was decisively defeated by Bruce at Bannockburn. In 1327 Parliament used its new power to depose Edward II and place his son, Edward III, on the throne.
Flowering of English Medieval Life
The 13th century was a time of great enthusiasm for art and learning. In architecture the low, square towers and rounded arches of the Norman period gave place to the delicate spires and pointed arches of the early English, or Gothic, style. New learning was brought into England by friars and other scholars from the Continent. Oxford University won renown all over Europe. One of its teachers, Roger Bacon, a friar, urged the study of nature and the experimental method in seeking knowledge. The Crusades opened commerce with the Orient and brought in new ideas.
Towns became noted for particular manufactures. Craft guilds held a monopoly of manufacture, and merchant guilds controlled local markets. Foreign merchants were allowed to sell their wares only at certain annual fairs.
The Hundred Years' War and the Black Death
Knighthood was still in flower while Edward III was on the English throne from 1327 to 1377. The king himself excelled in "beautiful feats of arms." He soon had a chance to prove his skill. During his reign began the long struggle with France called the Hundred Years' War. In 1346 Edward's army won a brilliant victory at Crecy with a new English weapon, the longbow. The next year Edward took Calais, a French seaport. In 1356 his son Edward, the Black Prince, won the famous battle of Poitiers.
The war had come to a temporary halt when the Black Death swept over Western Europe in 1348-49, recurring repeatedly over the next century. More than a fourth of England's population perished. Whole villages were wiped out, and great areas of farmland went to weeds. The serfs who survived demanded high money wages. If their lord refused, they moved to another manor. The government tried to halt the rise in wages and bind the laborers to their manors once more, but it could not enforce its Statute of Labourers. The landlords sought labor at any price, and the laborers formed alliances to resist the law. John Wycliffe's "poor priests" (Lollards) and other traveling preachers increased the discontent by denouncing the landlords.
Richard II, grandson of Edward III, was 14 years old when a great band of peasants, headed by Wat Tyler and John Ball, marched on London (1381) from Kent. The boy king went out boldly to meet them. "We will that you make us free forever," the peasants asked. Richard promised to help them, and they returned peaceably to their homes. The king did not keep his promise. Within a week the judges hanged 1,500 ringleaders of the revolt. The feudal system of villenage, however, could not be revived. The serfs were gradually giving place to a new class of farmers--free yeomen.
Richard II thirsted for absolute rule and came into conflict with the powerful barons. His cousin Henry, duke of Lancaster, led a revolt against him in 1399, imprisoned him in the Tower of London, and compelled him to abdicate. Parliament then placed Henry on the throne of England as Henry IV.
The House of Lancaster ruled England only 62 years, 1399-1461. During this period three Henrys--father, son, and grandson--wore the crown. Their reigns were filled with plots and rebellions, murders and executions. Parliament had made them kings, and they needed its support to keep the throne. They therefore consulted it on all affairs.
The End of the Middle Ages in England
In 1455, two years after the Hundred Years' War ended, the House of York and the House of Lancaster plunged into a long and bloody struggle for the crown called the Wars of the Roses. Henry VI, of the House of Lancaster, was captured and murdered. Edward IV, of the House of York, spent most of his reign fighting to keep his crown. The last Yorkist king, Richard III, gained the throne when Edward's sons were declared not to be the rightful heirs. Peace came with Richard's death in the battle of Bosworth Field. The date of Richard's death--1485--may well be used to mark the close of the Middle Ages in English history.
The Wars of the Roses were the death throes of the feudal system. Battles and executions thinned the ranks of the nobles, and their fortified castles were no longer impregnable after the invention of gunpowder. A new aristocracy was pushing up through the broken crust of feudal society. In the towns a rich capitalist class appeared. Country squires--the landed gentry--also grew wealthy. The new aristocracy began to seek political power.
England was now the chief cloth-exporting country in the world. Enterprising employers, tired of the restrictions of the guild system, supplied wool to farmers and villagers to be spun and made up into cloth. This method of manufacture was called the domestic system, or the putting-out system. It grew steadily and caused the breakup of the guild system's monopoly. Serfdom also gradually died out. The gentry leased their land to yeomen who paid money wages to their free laborers.
French, the speech of the governing classes, had become blended with Anglo-Saxon into an English speech somewhat similar to the language used today. The great poet Geoffrey Chaucer wrote in this English and the Bible was translated into it. These works were among the first printed by William Caxton, who brought a printing press to England from Belgium in 1476. Printing made it possible for many more people to have books and helped spread the New Learning of the Renaissance. Before the 15th century ended, Spanish and Portuguese explorers had opened up new continents across the Atlantic Ocean.
Henry VII, First of the Tudors
After a century of wars, England enjoyed a century of almost unbroken peace under the Tudors. When this strong dynasty ended, England was a modern nation.
Henry VII, first of the Tudor line, became king by defeating and slaying Richard III in the battle of Bosworth Field (1485). He crushed the barons and made Parliament once more obedient to the king's will. Only the medieval church, still wealthy and powerful, remained an obstacle to his authority. He was popular with the commons--the middle classes in town and country--because he built up an orderly government, aided commerce and industry, and kept the country at peace and out of debt. With his encouragement, John Cabot in 1497 piloted an English ship across the Atlantic Ocean to Newfoundland, five years after Columbus discovered the New World.
The English Reformation
Henry VIII, ruled 1509-47, is famous as the king who had six wives in succession. When he put aside his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, the pope excommunicated him. Henry, enraged, had Parliament cut the ties that bound the English church to the papacy (1534) and forced the English clergy to acknowledge the king rather than the pope as the "only supreme head of the Church of England."
Henry's quarrel with the pope was made easier by the Protestant Reformation. Yet Henry claimed to be a devout Roman Catholic. He burned Protestants at the stake almost as readily as he hanged and beheaded the "traitors" who upheld the pope. His attack on the papacy was prompted in part by greed. By dissolving the monasteries he was able to seize their lands and buildings and the costly ornaments of the shrines. He used some of his new riches to fortify the coasts and build England's first real navy. At his death the royal fleet numbered 71 vessels, some of which were fitted out with cannon.
Henry VIII's only son, Edward VI, was ten years old when he came to the throne (1547), and he died at the age of 16. The Lord Protectors who ruled in his stead favored the Protestant cause. They forbade the Catholics to hold Mass and required Thomas Cranmer's English Prayer Book to be read instead of the Latin Mass.
These laws were speedily repealed when Mary, daughter of Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon, ascended the throne. Mary had been brought up in the Catholic faith and she held resolutely to it.
Elizabeth I and England's Golden Age
Elizabeth I, Mary's half sister, in turn repealed Mary's laws. In her reign the Church of England took the form it has today. It kept the Catholic governmental organization of archbishops, bishops, and deans, but it rejected the headship of the pope. It permitted the clergy to marry, and it again ordered the reading of the English Prayer Book. Many people accepted this "middle way." But it was bitterly opposed by the Roman Catholics (Papists), and also by the extreme Protestants (Puritans), who insisted on a simpler, "purer" form of service with no "Popish rites."
The long reign of Elizabeth I, 1558-1603, was England's Golden Age. The Renaissance, which began in Italy in the 14th century, at last reached the northern island. "Merry England," in love with life, expressed itself in music and literature, in architecture, and in adventurous seafaring. William Shakespeare, poet and dramatist, mirrored the age in verse that lifted the English language to its fullest beauty.
Throughout the land could be heard the sound of hammers and saws of builders--a sure sign of prosperity. Elizabethan manor houses, usually built around an open court, blended the English style with the new Italian. English glassworks supplied small clear panes for lattice windows. The increasing use of brick made it easier to build chimneys and fireplaces even for common houses.
Exploration; Defeat of the Spanish Armada
English seamanship and shipbuilding reached the highest point they had yet attained. Francis Drake sailed around the world. Walter Raleigh made the first attempt to found an English colony in America. These and other courageous privateers reaped rich rewards--chiefly at the expense of Spain--from plundering, piracy, smuggling, and the slave trade. Elizabeth encouraged them on the ground that they protected Protestant England against Catholic Spain.
The defeat of the Spanish Armada (1588) established the superiority of English ships and sailors and made the English conscious of their ocean destiny. English merchants began to seek distant markets for their goods. In 1600 the now old queen chartered the famous East India Company, giving it a monopoly of trade with the Far East. From this small start Britain's Indian Empire was to grow.
Unemployment and Poor Relief
Not all classes shared in the increasing prosperity. The population had doubled since the Black Death and now numbered about 4 million. There was land hunger again. The growth of the cloth industry increased the demand for wool and made it profitable for the landowners to turn farmlands into pasture. They fenced in (enclosed) the pastures with hedgerows. "Where 40 persons had their livings," the laborers complained, "now one man and his shepherd hath all." Men thrown out of work by the enclosures became vagabonds and terrorized the townfolk. Whipping the "sturdy beggars" failed to solve the problem.
Throughout the Middle Ages the monasteries had given alms to the poor. Now that the monasteries were no more, the government took over the task. Elizabeth's famous statute of 1601, an Act for the Relief of the Poor, required every parish to levy rates (local taxes) for poor relief.
Children were to be put out as apprentices if their parents could not support them. Wages of artisans and farm laborers were fixed by law. All able-bodied men were compelled to work. They could no longer move freely from place to place. They were practically serfs again, except that they had no rights in the land. The Poor Laws enacted during Elizabeth's reign remained on the books, although with amendments, until after World War II.
Birth of the British Empire
The Tudor dynasty came to an end when Elizabeth I died in 1603. The crown of England then passed to the Stuart line of Scotland. The new king was called James VI in Scotland and James I in England. The two countries, having the same ruler, were now bound together in a personal union, but for another century they had separate parliaments.
James boldly announced that he would rule as an absolute monarch, responsible to God alone. This view of monarchy was called the divine right of kings. It was generally accepted on the continent of Europe, but it ran counter to the nature of the English people. Parliament resisted James at every point. By insisting that all people conform to the Church of England, he won the enmity of the Puritans and the Catholics. A small band of Catholic extremists, including Guy Fawkes, formed the Gunpowder Plot to blow up king and parliament together.
James allowed the navy to decay and suppressed privateering. Yet it was in his reign that colonial expansion began and the British Empire was born. The colony of Jamestown, Virginia, was started in 1607. In 1620 the Pilgrims landed on the rocky shore of New England. Other colonists swiftly followed. Some went to escape religious persecution and some to find free land. They spread English civilization into the wilderness.
Under Charles I, who ruled 1625-49, active colonization continued. Charles was glad to have the troublesome Puritans leave England. Great wealth flowed into London from American tobacco, the African slave traffic, and the silks and spices of India.
England's Civil War
Charles was as obstinate a despot as his father. In 1629 he dissolved Parliament, determined to rule by himself alone. Eleven years later he became involved in a war with Scotland and was obliged to summon Parliament to raise money for his armies. When Parliament refused to vote the money, Charles dissolved it. Before the year ended he summoned it again. This time Parliament forced the king to agree not to dissolve it without its consent. It lasted, with some interruptions, from 1640 to 1659 and is known as the Long Parliament.
Puritans dominated the House of Commons. Instead of aiding the king, they passed laws to curb his power. The king went in person to the House, determined to arrest five of its leaders, but "the birds had flown." Parliament issued a call to arms, a revolutionary act. The powerful new middle class put its great resources behind the Puritans. The king rallied the royalist aristocracy, High Church Anglicans, and the Catholics to his standard.
The Parliamentary army went into battle singing psalms. In 1644 the Puritans defeated Charles's Cavaliers at Marston Moor. In this battle Oliver Cromwell, the Puritan leader, won the name Ironsides. The next year he gained a decisive victory at Naseby.
In 1648 Colonel Pride, a Puritan, stood at the entrance to the Commons with a force of soldiers and allowed only Roundheads to enter. (The Puritans were called Roundheads because they cut their hair short. The Cavaliers wore long flowing locks.) The group that remained after Pride's Purge was called the Rump Parliament.
The Rump sentenced Charles to execution, and he was beheaded on Jan. 30, 1649. The Rump then declared England a Commonwealth (that is, a republic), without a king or a house of lords.
The Commonwealth and the Protectorate
The Rump Parliament governed England while Cromwell put down revolts in Ireland and Scotland with great cruelty. In 1653 he came back from the wars, dismissed Parliament, and "nominated" a Parliament of his own (called Barebone's Parliament after one of its members, Praisegod Barebone). The Commonwealth then took the name of Protectorate, with Cromwell as Lord Protector
The Puritans closed the theaters, suppressed horse racing, cockfighting, and bearbaiting, and made Sunday strictly a day of worship. Cromwell's rule was more despotic than the king's. Yet the revolution accomplished its purpose. When the monarchy was revived it became a limited monarchy. The Church of England never again tried to include all Englishmen.
When Cromwell died in 1658 his eldest son, Richard Cromwell, became Lord Protector. Too weak to control the army, Tumbledown Dick resigned the next year. In 1660 George Monk, one of Cromwell's generals, brought an army from Scotland and had the Rump of the Long Parliament recalled to dissolve itself. A new Parliament was elected and at once offered the crown to the exiled son of Charles I.
England Under the Restoration
The people of London joyously welcomed Charles II when he arrived from France with the gay court of Cavaliers that had been exiled with him. The bleak Puritan age was suddenly ended. Theaters opened again. Footlights, curtains, and painted scenery were introduced. For the first time women appeared on the stage. In spite of renewed censorship, Restoration dramatists delighted Londoners with sparkling comedies that laughed at Puritan virtues. John Dryden best represented the Restoration period. Its greatest poet, however, was still the Puritan John Milton, who had faithfully served Cromwell. Now blind, he retired from public life to write the greatest epic in the English language, 'Paradise Lost'.
England's greatest architect, Sir Christopher Wren, rebuilt St. Paul's Cathedral, following London's Great Fire of 1666. Science flourished along with the arts. Isaac Newton formulated laws of the universe. An observatory was established at Greenwich.
Catholics fared somewhat better than Puritans under Charles II. His "Cavalier Parliament" in 1662 passed an Act of Uniformity depriving of their offices all clergymen who did not accept everything in the Anglican Prayer Book. This act tended to throw all nonconformists (Independents, Presbyterians, Baptists, and the new Quaker sect) into a single class, called dissenters. To make things easier for Catholics, Charles issued a Declaration of Indulgence in 1672. Parliament forced him to retract this and passed a Test Act (1673), which made it impossible for Catholics to hold public office.
The Birth of Political Parties
Charles II leaned toward Catholicism. His brother James, heir to the throne, was an avowed Catholic. In 1679 an "Exclusion Bill" was presented in Parliament to bar James from the kingship. Charles prevented its passage by dissolving Parliament. The governing classes at once split into bitter factions-- the Tories, who opposed the bill, and the Whigs, who favored it. Thus were born the first great political parties in history.
The names Whig and Tory were both terms of derision. Tory was Irish slang for a "popish" outlaw. Whig was a term of contempt in Scotland for a fanatic Presbyterian. The Tories, descended from the Cavaliers, represented the landed aristocracy. They upheld the divine right of kings and the Anglican church. The Whigs, descended from the Roundheads, represented the commercial classes of the cities. They championed Parliament against the king and urged toleration for nonconformists.
Following the decline of Spanish and Portuguese sea power, the Dutch Netherlands became a serious rival of England in the Far East, in Africa, and in America. In the 17th century England fought three commercial wars against the Dutch (1652-54, 1665-67, and 1672-74). The Netherlands then dropped out of the race for world commerce and American dominions. In the third war the English joined forces with the French--not yet aware that France was to be the next rival England had to face.
The Glorious Revolution of 1688
Charles II died in 1685, and his brother, James II, stepped quietly to the throne. However, when a male heir to James was born, in 1688, Tory and Whig leaders joined together and decided to set aside the Catholic line of kings. They invited Mary, a daughter of James, and her Dutch husband, William of Orange, to occupy the throne as joint sovereigns. When William arrived from Holland, James fled to the continent.
Parliament was careful to lay down conditions for the new sovereigns. William and Mary accepted its Declaration of Rights, and Parliament speedily enacted it into law as the famous Bill of Rights. The act made the king responsible to Parliament and subject to the laws and provided that henceforth no Roman Catholic could wear England's crown. Parliament, and not inheritance or divine right, would determine the succession to the throne. This was the fruit of the so-called Glorious Revolution--a revolution without bloodshed. John Locke published a defense of the Revolution in which he proclaimed the supremacy of the legislative assembly as the voice of the people.
The Struggle with France
While England was in the throes of revolution, France, under Louis XIV, was achieving a dominant position in Europe. With internal conflict ended, England turned its attention abroad. In 1689 it joined with Holland and several German states in the War of the Grand Alliance against France. The war spread to America, where it was called King William's War. It marked the beginning of a long struggle to decide whether France or England was to control India and North America
When William died, in 1702, Louis XIV proclaimed James Stuart, son of James II, king of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Parliament, however, had provided that if William and Mary had no children, the crown should pass to Anne, a Protestant, daughter of James II by his first wife. James Stuart kept up his claim to the throne for 65 years and became known as the Old Pretender. His son, Bonnie Prince Charlie, known as the Young Pretender, made an unsuccessful attempt to obtain the throne in 1745
Queen Anne's Reign
As soon as Anne came to the throne in 1702, England entered upon another war with France to break up a threatened combination of France and Spain. This was called in Europe the War of the Spanish Succession. In America it was known as Queen Anne's War. The Duke of Marlborough led the English, Dutch, and Germans to brilliant victories, and the Treaty of Utrecht (1713) gave England important territories (all Nova Scotia and Newfoundland) in the New World.
Birth of the Kingdom of Great Britain
The most notable event in Anne's reign was the union of England with Scotland. Since 1603 the two nations had been loosely associated under the same king. The Act of Union (1707) united them in a single kingdom, called Great Britain, and joined their parliaments. Thereafter the government and parliament in London were called British rather than English.
Walpole, Britain's First Prime Minister
The Stuart line came to an end when Anne died, since none of her 17 children survived her. She was succeeded in 1714 by the nearest Protestant heir, George I, a prince of the House of Hanover, a small state in Germany
George did not speak English, and he was so wrapped up in his beloved Hanover that he took little interest in British affairs. He soon began to stay away from meetings of his inner council, or cabinet, and left the government in the hands of Sir Robert Walpole, the able Whig leader. George II, who ruled 1727-60, also stayed away from meetings of his ministers. Walpole made himself supreme in the government, selected his colleagues, and insisted they work with him or leave the cabinet. He thus became the first prime minister.
Walpole promoted trade and commerce and strove to avoid war. But in 1739 the British people became aroused over the story of Robert Jenkins, a sea captain, who claimed the Spaniards had boarded his ship and cut off his ear. Walpole was persuaded to declare war against Spain in 1739--the War of Jenkins' Ear. He resigned when this war merged into another continental war, the War of the Austrian Succession, in America called King George's War. When peace was made, in 1748, the real issue--whether France or Britain was to prevail in India and North America--was still unsettled.
Britain Wins French Territory
The struggle with France was renewed in the Seven Years' War, which broke out in 1756. This war brought to the fore a leader of genius, William Pitt, earl of Chatham. He carried on the struggle against France in America, Africa, and India, as well as in Europe and on the sea. The war cost France almost all its territory in North America and India and vastly extended Britain's empire. Horace Walpole wrote to Sir Horace Mann, in Italy: "You would not know your country again. You left it a private little island living upon its means. You will find it the capital of the world."
The American Revolution
Before the Seven Years' War ended, George III began his 60-year reign, 1760-1820. Determined to "be a king" and quite unfit to be one, he got rid of Pitt and put his own Tory friends in power.
The Tory government imposed new taxes on the American Colonies. The colonists insisted the British Parliament had no right to tax them without their consent. Pitt and Edmund Burke counseled compromise, but George III and his ministers obstinately insisted on their course. Troops were sent to enforce the decrees, and the colonists met force with force. On July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress adopted a Declaration of Independence. Two years later France entered the war on the side of the colonists. The Americans finally won their independence, and Britain lost the most valuable part of its colonial empire.
George III's attempt at personal rule was now completely discredited. Parliament regained its leadership. William Pitt, second son of the earl of Chatham, became prime minister in 1783 and held the position for 17 years.
Britain's Classical Age
The numerous wars of the 18th century were fought with small professional armies and hardly disturbed the even tenor of life in the "fortunate isle." Even the loss of the American Colonies was little felt. Britain was still mistress of the seas, and its mariners and traders soon built a second empire greater than the old. Before the century ended, the French Revolution and the Industrial Revolution were to produce tremendous upheavals. Until the storm broke, Britain was quiet and settled.
The years 1740-80 were Britain's classical age--an age of art and elegance, of enlightenment and religious tolerance. Wealth and leisure became more widely diffused. In town and country the middle class put up comfortable, dignified homes in the Queen Anne and Georgian styles. Into them went furniture designed by Thomas Chippendale, Thomas Sheraton, and the Adam brothers, and beautiful china, glass, and silver plate made by skilled English handicraftsmen. The dress of the age was extravagant. Men wore bright-colored silk coats, waistcoats, and breeches; women appeared in hoopskirts and elaborate headdresses or high pompadours. The three great portrait painters of the age--Joshua Reynolds, Thomas Gainsborough, and George Romney--pictured the fashionable aristocrats, while William Hogarth caricatured both the fashionable and the common people.
Alexander Pope, a bitter satirist, was the leading poet of the age; but the most characteristic literary figure was Samuel Johnson, who gathered with other writers in London's coffeehouses to discuss and debate
The government was little concerned with reform. Individuals, however, were showing a growing sensitivity to the wretched condition of the poor. Hundreds of charity schools, Sunday schools, and hospitals were founded, all at private expense. John Howard made prison reform his life's work
William Wilberforce set in motion a campaign that was to free the slaves in all the British colonies by 1833. The new humanitarian spirit was quickened by the Methodist movement, a tremendous religious revival led by John Wesley
The Industrial Revolution
Britain now entered upon the greatest revolution in all history. It began with inventions in the textile industry--John Kay's flying shuttle, to speed up weaving, and James Hargreave's spinning jenny, for making yarn. These inventions transformed the textile industry, which had seen almost no change for thousands of years. By 1781 James Watt had developed a steam engine to run these and other machines. During the next 15 years cotton manufactures trebled. The great Industrial Revolution was under way.
The revolution in agriculture also began in the 18th century. In the time of Queen Anne, British landowners began to devote their wealth and personal attention to improving methods of cultivation. On their enclosed fields they practiced scientific rotation of crops and pasture and new methods of draining, drilling, sowing, and fertilizing. They began to grow root crops (turnips and potatoes) in fields instead of in small gardens. By selective breeding and proper winter feeding of stock they doubled the average weight of cattle and sheep.
Improved Nutrition and Transportation
Fresh beef and mutton replaced salt meat in the winter diet. Scurvy and other skin diseases, prevalent in earlier centuries, grew rare even among the poor. The increasing knowledge of medicine combined with better nutrition to bring about a sharp drop in the death rate--from 33 in a thousand in 1830 to 23 at the end of the century. As a consequence population increased enormously.
Great improvements in inland transport accompanied the revolutions in industry and agriculture. In Queen Anne's reign coal was still carried on packhorses. Roads were so poor that wheels stuck in the mud or broke on hard, dry ruts and huge stones. The government still took little interest in road building. Private initiative supplied the need. Turnpike companies laced the land with roads and made their profit by collecting fees at tollgates. Heavy wagons lumbered over the new turnpikes, and light stagecoaches sped along them at ten miles an hour, stopping at coaching inns for new relays of fast horses. In 1750 a great era of canal building began. Before the end of the century the land was interlaced with a network of waterways. Like the roads, the canals were built for profit by private companies.
Britain's threefold revolution was accomplished by private initiative. Individualism, the spirit of the age, freed men's minds and energies. Yet many government restrictions still shackled industry and commerce. Adam Smith, creator of the science of political economy, called attention to their harmful effect. Complete freedom of industry and trade, he said, would unleash even greater productive energy. His ideas, published in 'Wealth of Nations' (1776), gave direction to the new industrial age.
Challenge of Napoleon
The outbreak of the French Revolution ended the harmony of 18th-century Britain. Class faced class in bitter controversy. Thomas Paine upheld the revolutionists in a stirring appeal to the masses, 'The Rights of Man'. Edmund Burke eloquently voiced the attitude of conservative Englishmen: "The French," he declared, "have shown themselves the ablest architects of ruin who have hitherto existed in the world."
People were horrified when France set up a republic and executed Louis XVI. George III went into mourning and expelled the French envoy. France declared war, and Britain promptly joined the coalition of European monarchs against the new French republic. The war dragged on without much result until the young general Napoleon Bonaparte began to win amazing victories. By 1797 Britain was left to carry on the war alone. Britain, weak on land, was supreme on the sea. Admiral Horatio Nelson's victory of the Nile (1798) gave the British navy control of the Mediterranean and secured the route to India. At Trafalgar (1805) Nelson annihilated the French fleet. Napoleon, victorious on the Continent, was unable to invade the island kingdom; so he sought to ruin the "race of shopkeepers" by forbidding Europe to trade with Britain. Britain countered by blockading all European ports controlled by Napoleon. The United States, exasperated by Britain's interference with its commerce, declared war on Britain in 1812
Britain meanwhile had built up an army, led by the duke of Wellington. Wellington first drove the French out of Spain. In 1815 he commanded the British forces at the battle of Waterloo, which destroyed Napoleon's army. Before the year ended, a British ship carried off Napoleon to an island prison.
Effects of the War with France
Triumph over France brought Great Britain national glory and financial profit. The empire expanded and British control over sea routes was made secure. The increased demand for British goods stimulated commerce and quickened the pace of the Industrial Revolution. British blast furnaces and textile mills supplied munitions and clothes not only for the armies of Great Britain but for its allies as well.
English poetry reached the highest point it had touched since the age of Shakespeare. The ideas of the French Revolution ended the Classical Age on the continent as well as in Britain and gave birth to a new back-to-nature movement in art and literature called the Romantic Movement. The Romanticists extolled emotion as the Classicists had reason. They sought the beautiful in nature or in medieval art rather than in classical models.
Changes appeared also in dress and morals. Women ceased to powder their hair. Men discarded wigs and cut their hair short. Wool and cotton began to replace silks, satins, and velvets for both men and women. The reformers of the age sent missionaries into foreign lands, but they took little interest in the increasing wretchedness of Britain's poor.
The war swelled the fortunes of landlords, merchants, and manufacturers. To the poor it brought misery. Men and women toiled 12 to 18 hours a day in mines and factories. Wages were at starvation levels. Child labor was widespread. Laissez-faire (from a French term, meaning "let it alone"), the rough beginning of a free market economy, was becoming the order of the day in industry. The new freedom, unfortunately, did not extend to the working classes. They were forbidden to hold meetings, to organize unions, even to publish pamphlets. When workers rioted and smashed the new machines, the government made machine breaking a capital crime. Fourteen Luddites (so called after a feebleminded youth who destroyed two stocking frames) were put to death in Yorkshire in 1811.
Inspired by the revolt of the French peasants, the Irish rose against English rule in 1798. In 1800 Pitt succeeded in bringing Ireland into a union with Great Britain similar to that between England and Scotland. The Act of Union went into force Jan. 1, 1801, creating the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. The mass of the Irish, however, being Catholics, were still excluded from the government. George III allowed only Church-of-England Irish to sit in Parliament.
The Coming of Democracy
The factory system made tremendous changes in the social structure. Two new classes had appeared--the capitalists, or entrepreneurs, who owned the factories and machines, and the mass of the workers, who were dependent upon the capitalists for employment. Large manufacturing cities had risen in the north, close to the coalfields. Many of these cities had no representation in Parliament because no new boroughs had been created to send up members since the time of Charles II. In the south of England Tory proprietors of boroughs with few or no inhabitants (called pocket boroughs or rotten boroughs) continued to send representatives. Cornwall sent as many members to the House of Commons as all Scotland.
The spirit of reform was gradually making itself felt. Jeremy Bentham, called the utilitarian, made utility the test of law and said government should promote "the greatest happiness of the greatest number" by scientific legislation. Philosophic radicals such as James Mill advocated a laissez-faire individualism. Robert Owen showed in his New Lanark mills in Scotland that good hours, good wages, and healthy factory conditions could be made to pay.
William Cobbett, a radical journalist, led a campaign for universal suffrage because he believed workmen could improve their condition only by achieving the right to vote. The great industrial city of Manchester had no parliamentary representation. In 1819 a crowd of 60,000 assembled on St. Peter's Field to choose a "legislative representative." Mounted soldiers charged into the crowd, killed 11 persons, and wounded many. This Peterloo Massacre aroused great indignation and gave the deathblow to the old Toryism.
George III became insane in his later years and blind as well. For nine years before his death his incompetent eldest son governed as prince regent. (This period, 1811-20, is therefore known as the Regency.) On his father's death, the prince regent became King George IV
The more progressive Tories now began a series of reforms that opened a new era. Trade unions were partially legalized in 1825. Catholics were admitted to Parliament--after a struggle of many years--by the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829. Harsh criminal laws were reformed, reducing capital offenses to about a dozen. (In 1800, 200 offenses had been punishable by death.) In 1829 Robert Peel set up, for the first time in history, a civilian police force. Started in London, it spread quickly to other cities. The people called the police by either of Peel's names--bobbies or peelers
William IV, brother of George IV, began his short reign in 1830. The reform of Parliament had by now become the burning issue. Extreme Tories, led by the duke of Wellington, stood fast against it. Reform groups in Parliament, including the moderate Tories, drew together and supported Earl Grey, the Whig leader. Wellington's government fell and the Whigs came into power. Lord John Russell introduced a strong reform bill. In the face of tremendous opposition in the House of Lords, the Great Reform Act was passed in 1832.
Parliamentary Reform
The Reform Act created 43 new boroughs and deprived the rotten boroughs of their representatives in Parliament. The battle for universal suffrage, however, was still to be fought. The Reform Act slightly increased the number of voters by lowering the property qualifications; but the mass of the working people were still too poor to vote.
During the 1830s the Tories dropped their somewhat discredited name and became known as the Conservative party. The free-trade Conservatives (Peelites) gradually merged with the Whigs, who were to become the new Liberal party. Liberalism in the 19th century meant individualism. The true Liberal of that day championed freedom of thought and religion, freedom of trade, freedom of contract between the individual employer and the individual workman, and unrestricted competition. The party was made up chiefly of the industrial middle class.
The Victorian Age
William IV died in 1837, in the seventh year of his reign, and Victoria, his 18-year-old niece, became queen of Great Britain. Three years later she married her cousin Albert, a German prince. As prince consort, Albert gave valuable aid to the queen until his death in 1861
The young girl entered eagerly upon her new duties. Her long reign, 1837-1901, was to be immensely creative in literature and science, and before its close Britain reached the first place among nations in wealth and power. In the first years of her rule, however, the country seemed to be almost on the verge of revolution.
A series of bad harvests, beginning in 1837, continued into the Hungry Forties. England suffered a wheat famine, Ireland a potato famine. A high tariff on grain (called corn in England) kept out foreign wheat. The price of bread soared. A new Poor Law (1834) had ended the outdoor relief for paupers that had been begun in the time of Queen Elizabeth I. The workhouses that took its place (described in Dickens' novel 'Oliver Twist') were more dreaded than jails. Wages were miserably low. A tremendous migration began from the British Isles to Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and the United States.
A group of reformers called Chartists drafted in 1838 a bill called the People's Charter, calling for universal manhood suffrage. Meanwhile an Anti-Corn Law League had been formed in 1836, to campaign for the free entry of foreign wheat to feed the hungry poor. Sir Robert Peel, the Conservative prime minister, was finally converted to their view; and in 1846 he put through Parliament the famous bill repealing the Corn Laws. Wheat at once poured in from overseas. Prosperity returned, even for the farmers. The working people now began to turn their attention to the new trade unions and to the cooperative movement, started in 1844 by the Rochdale Pioneers.
Free Trade and Prosperity
The success of the Corn Law repeal encouraged the government to remove the tariff on other foods and on the raw materials needed by manufacturers. With free trade, Britain entered upon its period of greatest prosperity. Iron and steel output expanded greatly. Steam and machinery came to be used increasingly in every kind of manufacturing process. A tremendous boom in railway building caused many old posting inns to fall into disuse. By 1848 a large part of the new trackage was paralleled by telegraph wires. "Penny postage," introduced throughout the British Isles in 1840, provided a cheap and uniform postage rate prepaid with an adhesive stamp. Commerce was set free in 1849 by the repeal of the old Navigation Laws, which had permitted only British ships to carry goods between different parts of the empire. The application of steam power to oceangoing vessels stimulated the growth of the merchant marine and the navy. Commerce expanded enormously. In 1851 the country celebrated its industrial progress in the first great international fair, called the Great Exhibition. The government began to take more interest in the empire, which provided the manufacturers with both markets and raw materials. The Crimean War (1854-56) was fought to protect British and French imperial interests against Russia's threatened advance toward the Mediterranean and India. After helping the British East India Company put down the Sepoy Rebellion in India (1857), Parliament deprived the company of its political powers and transferred the government of India to the British crown
Wider Suffrage and Imperialism
The Reform Act of 1832 had benefited only the middle class. In 1867 Parliament took another long step in the direction of democracy by putting through the second Reform Act. This gave the vote to almost all adult males in the towns. The bill had been introduced by Benjamin Disraeli, a Conservative. Nevertheless the new voters, many of them workingmen, supported William Gladstone, Liberal leader. With Gladstone's first and greatest ministry, 1868-74, an era of reform set in.
The Education Act of 1870 set up elementary schools financed in part by the government. In the same year competitive examinations were introduced for employment in the civil service. The Trade Union Act of 1871 gave full legal recognition to trade unions. In 1872 the secret ballot was introduced in parliamentary elections.
Imperialism came into the ascendancy in 1874 with Benjamin Disraeli's Conservative ministry. Disraeli obtained for Britain financial control of the Suez Canal, key to Britain's eastern empire. In 1876 he had Queen Victoria declared empress of India. When Russia defeated Turkey and advanced close to Constantinople, he called the Congress of Berlin (1878), which checked Russian ambitions
During Gladstone's second ministry, 1880-85, a third Reform Bill was enacted, in 1884. This gave rural voters the same voting privileges as the townspeople. The "Grand Old Man" went down to defeat because he championed Home Rule for Ireland. The Irish question split the Liberal party into Home Rulers and Unionists. The Liberal Unionists, led by Joseph Chamberlain, gave their support to the Conservative party because they wanted no separate parliament for Ireland. A coalition of Conservatives and Liberal Unionists took office.
During the three ministries of Robert Salisbury, the government brought the navy to a high state of efficiency and secured for Britain the lion's share in the partition of Africa. To stimulate interest in the empire, it celebrated the 50th and 60th years of Victoria's rule (1887 and 1897) with magnificent "jubilees" attended by Indian princes and representatives of all the far-flung dominions and colonies. Before the century ended, the British were engaged in the Boer War (1899-1902) against the Dutch farmers (Boers) in South Africa. After some humiliating defeats, Britain won the war and annexed the two Boer republics, the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. Following annexation, Britain granted self-government to South Africa under the leadership of Jan Smuts, a Boer. Before the war was over, Queen Victoria died (1901), ending the longest reign in British history. Edward VII, her son, succeeded her.
An Age of Peace and Progress
The Victorians called their age "modern" and thought it superior to all past centuries. It was an age that envisioned an indefinite future of progress with peace and plenty. Wages and working conditions steadily improved. Dividends from British industry and from foreign investments supported a leisure class. The population of the United Kingdom increased in the last half of the century from 28 million to nearly 42 million people. The age was extraordinarily creative in literature and science. The poets Alfred Tennyson and Robert Browning expressed the Victorians' optimism and religious feeling. But it was chiefly an age of the novel, represented by William Thackeray and Charles Dickens, and the essay. In pure science, Charles Darwin's theory of evolution had worldwide influence
The Victorians did not excel in music or in painting. Architecture actually deteriorated, owing in part to the progress in technology that caused a breakdown of craftsmanship and tradition. Cheap manufactured knickknacks cluttered Victorian parlors.
The Labour Party and the New Liberalism
When Edward VII came to the throne, in 1901, Britain was no longer the only "workshop of the world." The Industrial Revolution was now in full swing in other countries. Germany, the United States, and Japan competed strongly with Britain in foreign markets. Unemployment soon became chronic. Serious unrest stirred the working classes.
Germany not only competed with British industry but had become the greatest military power on the Continent; and in 1900 it began to expand its navy, challenging British control of the seas. To meet this threat, Britain abandoned its "splendid isolation" and entered into an alliance with Japan in 1902. In 1904 it concluded the Entente Cordiale with France, and in 1907 it reached a similar agreement with Russia.
In 1900 the British Trades Union Congress held a conference to form a new political party. Delegates were invited from various socialist organizations. Chief among these was the Fabian Society. The Fabians were middle-class intellectuals who had been advocating national ownership of land and industry since 1883. The new party became known at once as the Labour party.
Fabian teachings had been spreading also in the Liberal party. The "new" Liberals of the 20th century no longer advocated a policy of laissez-faire in government. They had turned against individualism and classical economics and favored extending the powers of the state to abolish poverty. They still held to the 19th-century Liberal doctrine of free trade. On this issue they won the election of 1906. Labour party representatives supported the Liberal program of social legislation.
Lloyd George's Social Legislation
The driving power of the new government was David Lloyd George, chancellor of the exchequer under Herbert Asquith from 1908 to 1916. In 1908 he put through Parliament an Old Age Pensions Act granting pensions to all old people with a small income. On Jan. 1, 1909, over half a million men and women drew their first pensions.
Pensions and the constantly expanding navy vastly increased the expenses of the British government. In 1909 Lloyd George proposed heavy taxes on the wealthy and a new tax on land. The House of Lords rejected his budget.
A constitutional struggle took place that ended in the Parliament Act of 1911, which stripped the House of Lords of much of its power. The way was now open for the passage of a National Insurance Act (1912) to pay wage earners unemployment and sickness benefits.
In the midst of the parliamentary struggle Edward VII died (1910). He was succeeded by his only surviving son, George V.
World War I and Its Aftermath
On the eve of World War I the people of Great Britain were concerned with militant suffragettes, workingmen's strikes, and an Irish crisis. War broke out with startling suddenness on Aug. 1, 1914. Britain declared war three days later, and the British dominions and colonies were automatically drawn in. British and empire troops fought in France and Belgium, at Gallipoli, and in Palestine, while the navy held the seas and prevented food and supplies from reaching Germany.
Lloyd George became the war leader in 1916 when he succeeded Asquith as head of the Nationalist government, a coalition of Liberal and Conservative parties. The peace treaties, which he negotiated, added more territory to the vast British Empire in Asia, Africa, and the Pacific. The United Kingdom itself, however, was made smaller by an act of Parliament granting self-government to southern Ireland as a dominion of the British Commonwealth.
In 1918 Lloyd George's government passed an Education Act abolishing all fees in state-supported elementary schools. The same year it extended manhood suffrage and granted the right to vote to single women over 30 and married women over 35 who met certain property qualifications. In 1919 women became eligible for Parliament. Universal adult suffrage was not achieved until 1928.
The war had vastly increased the national debt. By imposing heavy income taxes, the government managed to balance the budget while increasing payments to the unemployed. Industrial peace, however, did not return. After a few years of prosperity, exports declined and unemployment rose. A wave of strikes engulfed the country.
The Conservatives deserted the Nationalist coalition and defeated the Liberals in 1922. The Labour party (which had come out openly for socialism in 1918) voted with the Liberals to turn out the Conservatives, and in 1924 Ramsay MacDonald was chosen to head Britain's first Labour government. He remained in office only nine months, going down to defeat partly because he advocated closer relations with Russia.
Under Stanley Baldwin as prime minister, the Conservatives returned to power for almost five years (1924-29). Again unemployment relief was increased. The cause of unemployment was the shrinking world market for British coal, textiles, and steel. The Labour party believed full employment could be attained by government ownership of basic industries. The unions called a general strike in 1926 to force through their demands. The strike was quickly ended except for the coal miners, the most distressed of the workers.
The regular election of 1929 favored the Labour party, and MacDonald formed a cabinet. The world depression dislocated international trade and currencies and plunged Britain into a financial crisis. The number of unemployed mounted to nearly 3 million. The leaders of the three parties then formed a coalition cabinet called the National government. MacDonald retained the premiership, but he now owed his support chiefly to the Conservatives. The Labour party had expelled him when his government introduced drastic economies. He resigned in 1935 and Baldwin again became prime minister.
Three Kings in One Year
George V died in January 1936, and his eldest son, Edward, the popular prince of Wales, came to the throne as Edward VIII. Before his coronation, the king announced his intention of marrying an American, Mrs. Wallis Warfield Simpson, as soon as her second divorce became absolute. Parliament and the dominions' governments disapproved. Edward abdicated on Dec. 11, 1936, and his brother, the duke of York, was proclaimed king as George VI.
Britain Abandons Free Trade
Since the repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846, Britain had been practically a free-trade country. Almost all other nations had put up tariffs that handicapped British exporters. When the world depression caused a slump in trade, the dominions asked Britain to import more raw materials from them. In return, they would favor British manufactures. In 1932 Parliament passed the Import Duties Act. The act imposed a basic tariff of 10 percent on all goods not specifically exempted. This paved the way for the Ottawa imperial conference in the same year, which worked out "preferential" tariffs within the empire.
The Statute of Westminster (1931) had recognized the complete control by the dominions of their foreign as well as domestic affairs. The Ottawa conference strengthened the ties of the Commonwealth by binding the members into a closer economic union. This, however, did not check the growing nationalism in India and other Asian dependencies.
Outbreak of World War II
In 1933 Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany and soon began to rearm the country. Britain, absorbed in domestic troubles, was unprepared for war. Hitler seized Austria in March 1938, then made demands on Czechoslovakia. Britain, along with France, adopted a policy of appeasement, hoping Hitler's demands could be satisfied short of war. Neville Chamberlain, who had become prime minister in 1937, believed he had achieved "peace in our time" when Hitler pledged at Munich (Sept. 30, 1938) that he had "no further territorial claims in Europe." Six months later Hitler broke the pact and took over most of Czechoslovakia.
Britain joined with France in guaranteeing Poland's independence. Hitler took no action until after the Soviet Union signed a peace pact with Germany (Aug. 24, 1939). Eight days later (September 1) his army marched into Poland. Britain and France declared war two days later.
The Battle of Britain
On May 10, 1940, Germany invaded Belgium and The Netherlands. On the same day Winston Churchill succeeded Chamberlain as prime minister. Britain lost most of its armament in the famed retreat from the Dunkirk beaches. When France fell in June the British began their "year alone" and suffered the furious onslaught of German bombers. "Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duty," said Churchill, "and so bear ourselves that if the British Commonwealth and Empire last for a thousand years, men will say, 'This was their finest hour.' "
The battle of Britain was a victory that ranked in importance with the defeat of the Spanish Armada. Britain was saved from invasion by its navy and its air force. British and Commonwealth troops fought on the far-flung battlefields of this war, and British leaders played a strong role in the formation of the United Nations.
Six years of war cost the United Kingdom 397,762 in dead and missing and thousands of civilian casualties. Millions of properties were damaged or destroyed. Britain received extensive United States Lend-Lease aid but met most of the huge war expenditures by selling overseas investments, by large overseas borrowing, by domestic loans, and by a tremendous increase in taxation.
Britain's Socialist Revolution
In 1945 Britain held its first general election in ten years. The Labour party received an overwhelming majority. Clement Attlee, its leader, succeeded Churchill as prime minister. The party was elected on a socialist platform and at once embarked on a nationalization program. The state bought out shareholders in the Bank of England, the coal mines, all inland transport, aviation, gas, and electricity. It subsidized housing and food. It put through the "cradle-to-grave" social insurance plan drawn up under Churchill's ministry. It also set up a National Health Service to provide free medical care.
The postwar government faced grave financial difficulties. It cut imports to bare necessities and ruled that almost the entire output of Britain's factories must be sold abroad instead of in the home market. It fixed prices, rationed scarce goods, limited wages, and called on people to practice austerity.
To offset the loss of income from foreign investments, Britain needed to double its exports above the prewar level. In 1949 the postwar sellers' market ended, and the high prices of British products caused a swift drop in exports. The government scaled down the value of the British pound from $4.03 to $2.80. This made it possible for British manufacturers to sell their goods in dollar markets but increased the price of necessary imports from dollar countries. Foreign loans and credits, especially Marshall Plan aid from the United States, helped in financial crises and in the task of rehabilitating overage and war-damaged industrial plants.
Decline in World Power
The British Empire suffered severe losses in territory and world influence in the years 1947-49. India, Pakistan, and Ceylon (now Sri Lanka) became self-governing nations within the Commonwealth, and Burma (now Myanmar) gained complete independence. Eire (southern Ireland) cut all ties with Britain and took the name of the Republic of Ireland.
On the continent of Europe, Britain no longer held its historic balance of power. For centuries it had helped prevent a strong nation from dominating the continent by throwing its weight toward that nation's rivals. Now the Soviet Union controlled all Eastern Europe. The only other world power was the United States. It used its influence to organize the nations of Western Europe for cooperation in defense and economic progress. Britain was not ready to share in a united Europe. It joined the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), formed in 1949 to meet the threat of Soviet aggression, and expanded its armament production. British land, sea, and air forces shared in the United Nations action in South Korea in 1950-53. Later, Britain joined the Central Treaty Organization (CENTO) of the Middle East and the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO).
In the 1950s many of Britain's postwar problems remained unsolved, but its economy rode on a wave of prosperity. Manufacturing output exceeded prewar production early in the decade. In 1959 the output of steel had risen 55 percent above that of 1938. Between 1949 and 1959 domestic production increased and exports rose by 40 percent. Most Britons in the early 1960s were earning twice as much as they had been in 1949. In 1951 the Conservatives returned to power. Winston Churchill, then 76, again became premier. On Feb. 6, 1952, George VI died. His elder daughter succeeded him as Elizabeth II.
The Conservatives lifted certain controls set by the Socialist government. In 1953 they denationalized iron and steel and trucking. Food rationing ended in 1954. Churchill resigned as premier in 1955 and was succeeded by Sir Anthony Eden.
Great Britain withdrew its last troops from the Suez Canal zone in June 1956, according to an earlier agreement. In July Egypt nationalized the Suez Canal. Britain and France protested vigorously. In October Israeli forces invaded Egypt. After demanding a cease-fire between them, Britain and France sent forces into the canal zone. They were branded as aggressors in the United Nations. The Anglo-French troops withdrew as a United Nations task force moved in. In January 1957 Eden resigned as prime minister and was succeeded by Harold Macmillan.
The death knell of colonialism sounded in the 1950s and 1960s as most of the foreign territories of the European powers won independence. The British had trained their colonies for self-government, so they usually parted with Britain as friends and the new nations remained in the Commonwealth. A notable exception was South Africa, which became a republic and left the Commonwealth in 1961. Throughout the 1960s independence was achieved by more than 20 British colonies and trusteeships in Africa, Asia, South America, and the West Indies. By the mid-1980s almost all of the Pacific and West Indies island units had also become independent. The secessionist state of Rhodesia, which had unilaterally declared itself independent (a status not recognized by Britain) in 1965 and a republic in 1970, reverted to colonial status in 1979 before finally achieving independence as Zimbabwe in 1980. In 1997 Hong Kong returned to complete Chinese control for the first time since the middle of the 19th century.
Post-1950s Leadership
In October 1963 Macmillan resigned. He was succeeded by another Conservative, Sir Alexander Frederick Douglas-Home. In 1964 Labourite Harold Wilson became prime minister. After a Conservative victory in 1970, Edward Heath took office. A pay strike by coal miners, in the midst of a worldwide energy crisis, led Heath to call a new election in February 1974, and Wilson returned as prime minister.
Wilson resigned in March 1976 and was succeeded by another Labourite, James Callaghan. In 1979 Callaghan, who had headed a minority government for two years, became the first British prime minister since 1924 to lose office after a no-confidence motion. Margaret Thatcher, who had been the Conservative party leader since 1975, became Britain's first woman prime minister.
War with Argentina.
In 1982 Britain went to war with Argentina over a faraway dependency in the South Atlantic. Known as the Islas Malvinas in Argentina and the Falkland Islands in Britain, the land had been the subject of debate between the two countries ever since Britain reclaimed the islands as a crown colony in 1833. The issue of their sovereignty was shifted to the United Nations in 1964, and diplomatic discussions began the next year. Argentina's invasion of the Falklands 17 years later, while these negotiations continued, came as a complete surprise. Britain's recapture of the islands ten weeks later restored Conservative popularity and encouraged Thatcher to call a general election in 1983, a year earlier than required. Her Conservative party won an overwhelming victory.
Coal miners' strike.
A bitter coal miners' strike dominated 1984. The government was determined to close 20 or more uneconomical mines and to exercise its constitutional and political authority. Although the year was marked by violence and much political wrangling, the striking miners went back to work almost exactly a year later. The government's victory tilted the balance of power against the trade union movement.
Soccer tragedies.
Increased fear of inner-city rioting, as well as terrorism, caused English police to break with tradition and carry guns openly. During the 1985 European soccer finals in Brussels, unruly supporters of the team from Liverpool were held responsible for 39 deaths in the collapse of a stadium wall. In a rush on the overcrowded terraces (standing area) of a Sheffield stadium in 1989, 94 spectators died.
End of Thatcherism. In 1987 Thatcher became the first British prime minister in more than 150 years to win a third consecutive election. By 1990 she had become the longest-serving British leader of the century, but her 15-year tenure as head of the Conservative party ended in that year. The reasons for discontent with Thatcherism ranged from her domineering personal style to the abolition of the local property tax in favor of a flat-rate community charge, or poll tax. With loss of power, Thatcher resigned in November 1990. Her successor as prime minister was John Major, a top minister in her cabinet
In 1992 elections Major led the Conservatives to victory again, extending their winning streak to four elections since 1979. During his second term, however, Major came under severe scrutiny from opponents inside and outside the Conservative party. In particular, the question of British integration in the EU split the party. In late 1996 the Conservatives lost their majority in Parliament for the first time since they wrested control of the government from the Labour party in 1979.
Rise of New Labour.
As the Conservatives splintered, they faced a serious threat from popular Labour party leader Tony Blair. Labour had suffered repeated Parliamentary losses, and many suspected that the party had lost touch with the British voters when Blair took over its leadership in 1994. Blair refashioned the Labour party as "New" Labour, dumping controversial party platforms that hinted of the Labour party's past affiliation with socialist causes, such as the nationalization of industries. On May 1, 1997, Blair became the youngest person elected prime minister of Britain in the 20th century as he led the Labour party to a landslide victory over the Conservatives. Labour won 43 percent of the popular vote and captured 418 out of a total of 659 seats in the British Parliament. The Conservative party, en route to its worst finish since 1832, won only 30 percent of the vote and secured only 165 seats in Parliament, down from a pre-election total of 323 seats.
European Union. In 1959 Great Britain helped found the European Free Trade Association (EFTA). The more tightly knit European Economic Community (EEC) made greater economic gains, however, and the Macmillan government sought EEC entry to stimulate Britain's trade. Since the tariff agreements between Commonwealth countries conflicted with EEC regulations, long negotiations and compromises were necessary. France vetoed Britain's bid for EEC membership in 1963 and again in 1967. On Jan. 1, 1973, Britain finally joined the group, by then renamed the European Communities (EC) and later the European Union (EU). In 1988 Thatcher attacked a plan to establish a European federal economic and political state with a central bank and a common community currency. Her continued hard line against greater EC integration led to the division within her Conservative party that contributed to her downfall in 1990.
Major was chosen as head of the Conservative party in 1990 after staking his bid to power on the idea of British integration in the EU. Many British Conservatives, however, began to lose confidence in the proposed creation of a single economic currency, known as the euro, on the grounds that the single currency system was a threat to national sovereignty. Some members of the party, known as euroskeptics, suggested that Major abandon plans to integrate British currency into the single-currency system. Divisions within the Conservative ranks concerning the question of integration contributed to the party's defeat in 1997. Following his election, Blair, who had described his stance on the EU as a "wait and see" policy during his 1997 campaign, emerged as a strong proponent for the strict continuance of the EU budgetary guidelines.
Northern Ireland. A general strike in Northern Ireland in May 1974 led to the collapse of its five-month-old coalition government and forced Britain to resume direct rule over the province. British attempts to help stabilize the long-standing dispute between the Protestant majority and the Roman Catholic minority continued over the next decade. In a move strongly opposed by the Protestants, a 1985 accord with the Republic of Ireland gave it a consultant role in the governing of Northern Ireland. Incidents of terrorism persisted--for example, a bombing in Northern Ireland that killed 11 people in 1987, the shooting deaths of three Irish Republican Army (IRA) terrorists in 1988, and the bombing deaths of ten British military band students in 1989. In 1991 the IRA fired three mortar rounds at 10 Downing Street, the prime minister's official residence.
In August 1994 the IRA declared a cease-fire. Disappointed by the slow progress of peace efforts, however, the IRA shattered the cease-fire with a series of bombings in February 1996. In June of that year negotiations aimed at reaching a settlement to the conflict began in Belfast. The talks were attended by the British and Irish governments and all the major political parties in Northern Ireland except Sinn Fein, the political wing of the IRA, which was excluded by Major and Prime Minister John Bruton of Ireland until the IRA reinstituted its cease-fire. In July 1997 the IRA resumed the cease-fire, clearing the way for the participation of Sinn Fein in multiparty discussions that began in September of that year. At the start of the talks Sinn Fein agreed to renounce the use of violence and terror as means of settling the territorial dispute. In December 1997 Gerry Adams, the leader of Sinn Fein, made a historic visit to 10 Downing Street to meet with Prime Minister Blair to discuss the peace process. The negotiations in Belfast yielded a landmark accord in April 1998 designed to end direct British rule over Northern Ireland and bring about a lasting peace.
This article was contributed by Ian M. Matley, Professor of Geography, Michigan State University, East Lansing.
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