The publication of a dictionary of French cant and slang demands some
explanation from the author. During a long course of philological
studies, extending over many years, I have been in the habit of putting
on record, for my own edification, a large number of those cant and
slang terms and quaint expressions of which the English and French
tongues furnish an abundant harvest. Whatever of this nature I heard
from the lips of persons to whom they are familiar, or gleaned from the
perusal of modern works and newspapers, I carefully noted down, until
my note-book had assumed such dimensions that the idea of completing
a collection already considerable was suggested. It was pointed out
to me, as an inducement to venture on so arduous an undertaking, that
it must prove, from its very nature, not only an object of curiosity
and interest to the lover of philological studies and the public at
large, but also one of utility to the English reader of modern French
works of fiction. The fact is not to be ignored that the chief works
of the so-called Naturalistic School do certainly find their way to
this country, where they command a large number of readers. These
productions of modern French fiction dwell with complaisance on
the vices of society, dissect them patiently, often with power and
talent, and too often exaggerate them. It is not within my province
to pass a judgment upon their analytical study of all that is gross
in human nature. But, from a philological point of view, the men and
women whom they place as actors on the stage of their human comedy
are interesting, whatever they may be in other respects. Some of them
belong to the very dregs of society, possessing a language of their
own, forcible, picturesque, and graphic. This language sometimes
embodies in a single word a whole train of philosophical ideas, and
is dashed with a grim humour, with a species of wit which not often
misses the mark. Moreover, these labourers, roughs, street arabs,
thieves, and worse than thieves--these Coupeaus, Bec-Salés, Mes-Bottes,
Lantiers--are not the sole possessors of a vernacular which, to a
certain extent, is the exponent of their idiosyncrasies. Slang has
invaded all classes of society, and is often used for want of terms
sufficiently strong or pointed to convey the speaker’s real feelings.
It seems to be resorted to in order to make up for the shortcomings
of a well-balanced and polished tongue, which will not lend itself
to exaggeration and violence of utterance. Journalists, artists,
politicians, men of fashion, soldiers, even women talk _argot_,
sometimes unawares, and these as well as the lower classes are depicted
in the Naturalistic novel. Now, although the study of French is daily
acquiring more and more importance in England, the professors of that
language do not as a rule initiate their pupils--and very naturally
so--into the mysteries of the vernacular of the highest and lowest
strata of society, into the cynical but pithy and humorous jargon of
the _voyou_ from the heights of Montmartre or Ménilmontant, nor even
into the lisping twaddle of the languid _gommeux_ who lolls on the
Boulevard des Italiens. Hence English readers of _L’Assommoir_ and
other similar works find themselves puzzled at every line, and turn in
vain for assistance to their dictionaries. The present volume aims at
filling the vacant space on the shelves of all who read for something
besides the passing of an idle hour. An _English slang equivalent_ of
the _English rendering_ has been inserted whenever that was possible,
and because the meaning of a term is better conveyed by examples, as
many quotations as the limits of the _Dictionary_ would admit have been
reproduced from different authors.
A few words on the manner in which the work has been compiled are
due to the reader. In order to complete my own private information,
specially with reference to old cant, I have drawn as freely as seemed
to me legitimate on works of a similar character--Michel’s, Delvau’s,
Rigaud’s, Lorédan Larchey’s excellent _Dictionnaire Historique
d’Argot_, Vilatte’s _Parisismen_, a very complete work on French
_argot_ rendered into German. But by far the most important portion of
my collection has been gathered from Vidocq’s productions, Balzac’s
works, _The Memoirs of Monsieur Claude_, formerly superintendent of the
detective department in Paris, and from other works to be mentioned
hereafter. To an inspector of the detective force in Paris, Monsieur
Lagaillarde, I am indebted for many of the terms of the phraseology
used by the worthies with whom his functions have brought him in
contact.
Again, newspapers of both countries have also brought in their
contingent, but the most interesting sources of information, as being
the most original, have been workpeople, soldiers, pickpockets, and
other malefactors having done their “time,” or likely to be “wanted”
at a short notice. The members of the light-fingered gentry were
not easily to be got at, as their natural suspicions precluded their
realizing at once my object, and it required some diplomacy and pains
to succeed in enlisting their services. In one particular instance
I was deprived of my informants in a rather summary manner. Two
brothers, members of a family which strongly reminded one of E. Sue’s
Martials, inasmuch as the father had mounted the scaffold, the mother
was in prison, and other members had met with similar accidents, had
volunteered to become my collaborators, and were willing to furnish
information the more valuable, it seemed to me, as coming from such
distinguished individuals. Unfortunately for the _Dictionary_ the
brothers were apprehended when coming to my rendez-vous, and are now, I
believe, far on their way to the penal settlement of New Caledonia.
I have to thank numerous correspondents, French and English officers,
journalists, and artists, for coming to my assistance and furnishing me
with valuable information. My best thanks are due also to M. Godefroy
Durand for his admirable etching.
As regards the English part, I am considerably indebted to the _Slang
Dictionary_ published by Messrs. Chatto and Windus, to the _History and
Curious Adventures of Bampfylde-Moore Carew, King of the Mendicants_,
as well as to the various journals of the day, and to verbal inquiries
among all classes of people.
I have not attempted, except in a few cases, to trace the origin of
words, as an etymological history of cant would be the work of a
lifetime.
It is somewhat difficult to know exactly where to draw the line, and to
decide whether a word belongs to slang or should be rejected. I have
been guided on this point by Littré, and any terms mentioned by him as
having passed into the language I have discarded. I have introduced
a small number of what might be termed eccentricities of language,
which, though not strictly slang, deserve recording on account of
their quaintness. To the English reader I need not, I trust, apologize
for not having recoiled, in my desire for completeness, before
certain unsavoury terms, and for having thus acted upon Victor Hugo’s
recommendation, “Quand la chose est, dites le mot.”