would appear, from the intercourse of the thieves with the Jew fences
(receivers of stolen goods); many of the Cant terms, again, are
Sanscrit, got from the Gipsies; many Latin, got by the beggars from the
Catholic prayers before the Reformation; and many again, Italian, got
from the wandering musicians and others; indeed, the showmen have but
lately introduced a number of Italian phrases into their Cant
language.”[22] The Hindostanee also contributes several words, and these
have been introduced by the Lascar sailors, who come over here in the
East Indiamen, and often lodge during their stay in the low tramps’
houses at the East-end of London. Speaking of the learned tongues, it
may be mentioned that, precarious and abandoned as the vagabonds’
existence is, many persons of classical or refined education have from
time to time joined the nomadic ranks,—occasionally from inclination,
as in the popular instance of Bamfylde Moore Carew, but generally
through indiscretions, which involve pecuniary difficulty and loss of
character.[23] This will in some measure account for numerous classical
and learned words figuring as Cant terms in the vulgar dictionary.
In the early part of the last century, when highwaymen and footpads were
plentiful, and when the dangerous classes were in larger proportion to
the bulk of the population than they are now, a great many new words
were added to the canting vocabulary, whilst several old terms fell into
disuse. “Cant,” for instance, as applied to thieves’ talk, was
supplanted by the word “flash.” In the North of England the Cant
employed by tramps and thieves is known as “Gammy.” It is mainly from
the old Gipsy corrupted. In the large towns of Ireland and Scotland this
secret language is also spoken, with of course additions peculiar to
each locality. All those words derived from “gammy” are inserted in the
dictionary as from the North country.
A singular feature, however, in vulgar language is the retention and the
revival of sterling old English words, long since laid up in ancient
manuscripts. Disraeli somewhere says, “The purest source of neology is
in the revival of old words”—
“Words that wise Bacon or brave Rawleigh spake;”
and Dr. Latham remarks that “the thieves of London are the conservators
of Anglo-Saxonisms.” A young gentleman from Belgravia, who had lost his
watch or his pocket-handkerchief, would scarcely remark to his mamma
that it had been “boned”—yet “bone,” in old times, meant, amongst high
and low, to steal. And a young lady living in the precincts of dingy but
aristocratic Mayfair, although enraptured with a Jenny Lind or a
Ristori, would hardly think of turning back in the box to inform papa
that she (Ristori or Lind) “made no ‘bones’ of it”—yet the phrase was
most respectable and well-to-do before it met with a change of
circumstances. Possibly fashion, in its journey from east to west, left
certain phrases and metaphors behind, which being annexed by the
newcomers, sank gradually in the social scale until they ultimately
passed out of the written language altogether, and became “flash” or
Slang. “A ‘crack’ article,” however first-rate, would have greatly
displeased Dr. Johnson and Mr. Walker—yet both crack, in the sense of
excellent, and crack up, to boast or praise, were not considered
vulgarisms in the time of Henry VIII. The former term is used frequently
nowadays, as a kind of polite and modified Slang—as a “crack” regiment,
a “crack” shot, &c. “Dodge,” a cunning trick, is from the Anglo-Saxon;
and ancient nobles used to “get each other’s ‘dander’ up” before
appealing to their swords,—quite “flabbergasting” (also a respectable
old word) the half-score of lookers-on with the thumps and cuts of their
heavy weapons. “Gallivanting,” waiting upon the ladies, was as polite in
expression as in action; whilst a clergyman at Paule’s Crosse thought
nothing of bidding a noisy hearer “hold his ‘gab,’” or “shut up his
‘gob.’” But then the essence of preaching was to indulge in idiomatic
phrases and colloquialisms—a practice now almost peculiar to itinerant
“ranters.” “Gadding,” roaming about in an idle and vacant manner, was
used in an old translation of the Bible; and “to do anything ‘gingerly’”
was to do it with great care. Persons of modern affected tastes will be
shocked to know that the great Lord Bacon spoke of the lower part of a
man’s face as his “gills,” though the expression is not more
objectionable than the generality of metaphor, and is considerably more
respectable than many words admitted to the genteel—we use the word
advisedly—vocabulary.
Shakspeare also used many words which are now counted dreadfully vulgar.
“‘Clean’ gone,” in the sense of out of sight, or entirely away; “you
took me all ‘a-mort,’” or confounded me; “it wont ‘fadge,’” or suit, are
phrases taken at random from the great dramatist’s works. These phrases
are the natural outcome of the poet’s truth to life in the characters he
portrayed. A London costermonger, or inhabitant of the streets, instead
of saying, “I’ll make him yield,” or “give in,” in a fight or contest,
would say, “I’ll make him ‘buckle’ under.” Shakspeare in his _Henry the
Fourth_ (part ii. act i. scene 1), has the word; and Mr. Halliwell, one
of the greatest and most industrious of living antiquaries, informs us
that “the commentators do not supply another example.” If Shakspeare was
not a pugilist, he certainly anticipated the terms of the prize-ring—or
they were respectable words before the prize-ring was thought of—for he
has “pay,” to beat or thrash, and “pepper,” with a similar meaning; also
“fancy,” in the sense of pets and favourites,—pugilists are often
termed “the ‘fancy.’” The origin of the term, as applied to them, has,
however, never been satisfactorily decided, though Pierce Egan and
others since his time have speculated ingeniously on the subject. The
Cant word “prig,” from the Saxon _priccan_, to filch, is also
Shakspearian; so, indeed, is “piece,” a contemptuous term for a young
woman. Shakspeare was not the only vulgar dramatist of his time. Ben
Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Brome, and other play-writers,
occasionally, and very naturally, put Cant words into the mouths of
their low characters, or employed old words which have since degenerated
into vulgarisms. “Crusty,” poor tempered; “two of a kidney,” two of a
sort; “lark,” a piece of fun; “lug,” to pull; “bung,” to give or pass;
“pickle,” a sad plight; “frump,” to mock, are a few specimens casually
picked from the works of the old histrionic writers.
One old English mode of canting, simple enough, but affected only by the
most miserable impostors, was the inserting a consonant betwixt each
syllable; thus, taking _g_, “How do you do?” would be “How_g_ do_g_
you_g_ do_g_?” The name very properly given to this disagreeable
nonsense, we are informed by Grose, was gibberish.
Another slang has been manufactured by transposing the initial letters
of words, so that a mutton chop becomes a _ch_utton _m_op, and a pint of
stout a _st_int of _p_out; but it is satisfactory to know that it has
gained no ground, as it is remarkable for nothing so much as poverty of
resource on the part of its inventors. This is called “Marrowskying,” or
“Medical Greek,” from its use by medical students at the hospitals.
Albert Smith termed it the “Gower Street Dialect,” and referred to it
occasionally in his best-known works.
The “Language of Ziph,” it may be noted, is another rude mode of
disguising English, in use among the students at Winchester College.
Some notices of this method of conveying secret information, with an
extensive Glossary of the Words, Phrases, Customs, &c., peculiar to the
College, may be found in Mr. Mansfield’s _School Life at Winchester
College_. It is certainly too puerile a specimen of work to find place
here.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] “Swarms of vagabonds, whose eyes were so sharp as Lynx.”—_Bullein’s
Simples and Surgery_, 1562.
[2] Probably from the Gipsies, who were supposed to come from Germany
into Spain.
[3] From _Roter_, beggar, vagabond, and _wälsch_, foreign. See
Dictionary of Gipsy language in Pott’s _Zigeuner in Europa und Asien_,
vol. ii., Halle, 1844. The Italian cant is called Fourbesque, and the
Portuguese Calao. See Francisque-Michel, _Dictionnaire d’Argot_, Paris,
1856.
[4] Richardson’s _Dictionary_.
[5] _Description of England_, prefixed to Holinshed’s _Chronicle_.
[6] The word Slang, as will be seen in the chapter upon that subject, is
purely a Gipsy term, although nowadays it refers to low or vulgar
language of any kind, other than cant. Slang and Gibberish in the Gipsy
language are synonymous; but, as English adoptions, have meanings very
different from that given to them in their original.
[7] “The vulgar tongue consists of two parts; the first is the Cant
language; the second, those burlesque phrases, quaint allusions,
and nicknames for persons, things, and places, which, from long
uninterrupted usage, are made classical by prescription.”—Grose’s
_Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue_, 1st edition, 1785.
[8] “Outlandish people calling themselves Egyptians.”—1530.
[9] Jabber may be, after all, only another form of GABBER, GAB, very
common in Old English, from the _Anglo-Saxon_, GÆBBAN.
[10] This very proverb was mentioned by a young Gipsy to Crabb, some
years ago.—_Gipsies’ Advocate_, p. 14.
[11] _Gipsies in Spain_, vol. i. p. 18.
[12] Shaks. _Henry IV._, part ii. act ii. scene 4.
[13] It is but fair to imagine that cheat ultimately became synonymous
with “fraud,” when we remember that it was one of the most common words
of the greatest class of impostors in the country.
[14] We are aware that more than one eminent philologist states that the
origin of “queer” is seen in the German _quer_, crooked,—hence strange
and abnormal. While agreeing with this etymology, we have reason to
believe that the word was first used in this country in a Cant sense.
[15] Booget properly signifies a leathern wallet, and is probably
derived from the _low Latin_, BULGA. A tinker’s budget is from the same
source.
[16] Which, freely translated into modern Slang, might read—especially
to those who know the manners and customs of the Dialites—thus:
“Good girls, go out, and look about,
Good girls, go out and see;
For every clout is up the spout,
The bloke’s gone on the spree.”
[17] Who wrote about the year 1610.
[18] _Gipsies in Spain_, vol. i. p. 18. Borrow further commits himself
by remarking that “Head’s Vocabulary has always been accepted as the
speech of the English Gipsies.” Nothing of the kind. Head professed to
have lived with the Gipsies, but in reality filched his words from
Decker and Brome.
[19] The modern meanings of a few of the old Cant words are given within
brackets.
[20] This is a curious volume, and is worth from one to two guineas. The
Canting Dictionary was afterwards reprinted, word for word, with the
title of _The Scoundrel’s Dictionary_, in 1751. It was originally
published, without date, about the year 1710, by B. E., under the title
of _A Dictionary of the Canting Crew_.
[21] _Bacchus and Venus._—1737.
[22] _London Labour and the London Poor._
[23] Mayhew (vol. i. p. 217) speaks of a low lodging-house “in which
there were at one time five university men, three surgeons, and several
sorts of broken-down clerks.” But old Harman’s saying, that “a wylde
Roge is he that is _borne_ a roge,” will perhaps explain this seeming
anomaly. There is, whatever may be the reason, no disputing the truth of
this latter statement, as there is not, we venture to say, a common
lodging-house in London without broken-down gentlemen, who have been
gentlemen very often far beyond the conventional application of the term
to any one with a good coat on his back and money in his pocket.
ACCOUNT
OF THE
HIEROGLYPHICS USED BY VAGABONDS.
One of the most singular chapters in a history of vagabondism would
certainly be “An Account of the Hieroglyphic Signs used by Tramps and
Thieves,” and it certainly would not be the least interesting. The
reader may be startled to know that, in addition to a secret language,
the wandering tribes of this country have private marks and symbols with
which to score their successes, failures, and advice to succeeding
beggars; in fact, there is no doubt that the country is really dotted
over with beggars’ finger-posts and guide-stones. The subject was not
long since brought under the attention of the Government by Mr.
Rawlinson.[24] “There is,” he says in his report, “a sort of
blackguards’ literature, and the initiated understand each other by
Slang [Cant] terms, by pantomimic signs, and by hieroglyphics. The
vagrant’s mark may be seen in Havant, on corners of streets, on
door-posts, on house-steps. Simple as these chalk-lines appear, they
inform the succeeding vagrants of all they require to know; and a few
white scratches may say, ‘Be importunate,’ or ‘Pass on.’”
Another very curious account was taken from a provincial newspaper,
published in 1849, and forwarded to _Notes and Queries_,[25] under the
head of Mendicant Freemasonry. “Persons,” remarks the writer,
“indiscreet enough to open their purses to the relief of the beggar
tribe, would do well to take a readily-learned lesson as to the folly of
that misguided benevolence which encourages and perpetuates vagabondism.
Every door or passage is pregnant with instruction as to the error
committed by the patron of beggars; as the beggar-marks show that a
system of freemasonry is followed, by which a beggar knows whether it
will be worth his while to call into a passage or knock at a door. Let
any one examine the entrances to the passages in any town, and there he
will find chalk marks, unintelligible to him, but significant enough to
beggars. If a thousand towns are examined, the same marks will be found
at every passage entrance. The passage mark is a cypher with a twisted
tail; in some cases the tail projects into the passage, in others
outwardly; thus seeming to indicate whether the houses down the passage
are worth calling at or not. Almost every door has its marks; these are
varied. In some cases there is a cross on the brickwork, in others a
cypher; the figures ~1, 2, 3~ are also used. Every person may for
himself test the accuracy of these statements by the examination of the
brickwork near his own doorway—thus demonstrating that mendicity is a
regular trade, carried out upon a system calculated to save time, and
realize the largest profits.” These remarks refer mainly to provincial
towns, London being looked upon as the tramps’ home, and therefore too
“fly” or experienced to be duped by such means. The title it obtains,
that of “the Start,” or first place in everything, is significant of
this.
Provincial residents, who are more likely to view the foregoing extract
with an eye of suspicion than are those who live in a position
to constantly watch for and profit by evidences of the secret
intercommunication indulged in by the dangerous classes, should note, in
favour of the extract given, how significant is the practice of tramps
and beggars calling in unfrequented localities, and how obvious it is
that they are directed by a code of signals at once complete and
imperious. It is bad for a tramp who is discovered disobeying secret
orders. He is marked out and subjected to all kinds of annoyance by
means of decoy hieroglyphs, until his life becomes a burden to him, and
he is compelled to starve or—most horrible of alternatives—go to work.
The only other notice of the hieroglyphs of vagabonds worth remarking is
in Mayhew’s _London Labour and the London Poor_.[26] Mayhew obtained his
information from two tramps, who stated that hawkers employ these signs
as well as beggars. One tramp thus described the method of “working”[27]
a small town. “Two hawkers (‘pals’[27]) go together, but separate when
they enter a village, one taking one side of the road, and selling
different things, and so as to inform each other as to the character of
the people at whose houses they call, they chalk certain marks on their
door-posts.” Another informant stated that “if a ‘patterer’[27] has been
‘crabbed’” (that is, offended by refusal or exposure) “at any of the
‘cribs’” (houses), “he mostly chalks a signal at or near the door.”
These hawkers were not of the ordinary, but of the tramp, class, who
carried goods more as a blind to their real designs than for the
purposes of sale. They, in fact, represented the worst kinds of the two
classes. The law has comparatively recently improved these nondescript
gentry off the face of the country, and the hawker of the present day is
generally a man more sinned against than sinning.
Another use is also made of hieroglyphs. Charts of successful begging
neighbourhoods are rudely drawn, and symbolical signs attached to each
house to show whether benevolent or adverse.[28] “In many cases there is
over the kitchen mantelpiece” of a tramps’ lodging-house “a map of the
district, dotted here and there with memorandums of failure or success.”
A correct facsimile of one of these singular maps is given in this book.
It was obtained from the patterers and tramps who supplied a great many
words for this work, and who were employed by the original publisher in
collecting Old Ballads, Christmas Carols, Dying Speeches, and Last
Lamentations, as materials for a _History of Popular Literature_. The
reader will, no doubt, be amused with the drawing. The locality depicted
is near Maidstone, in Kent; and it was probably sketched by a wandering
Screever[29] in payment for a night’s lodging. The English practice of
marking everything, and scratching names on public property, extends
itself to the tribe of vagabonds. On the map, as may be seen in the
left-hand corner, some Traveller[29] has drawn a favourite or noted
female, singularly nicknamed Three-quarter Sarah. What were the peculiar
accomplishments of this lady to demand so uncommon a name, the reader
will be at a loss to discover; but a patterer says it probably refers to
a shuffling dance of that name, common in tramps’ lodging-houses, and in
which “3/4 Sarah” may have been a proficient. Above her, three beggars
or hawkers have reckoned their day’s earnings, amounting to 13s., and on
the right a tolerably correct sketch of a low hawker, or cadger, is
drawn. “To Dover, the _nigh_ way,” is the exact phraseology; and “hup
here,” a fair specimen of the self-acquired education of the
draughtsman. No key or explanation to the hieroglyphs was given in the
original, because it would have been superfluous, when every inmate of
the lodging-house knew the marks from his cradle—or rather his mother’s
back.
Should there be no map, in most lodging-houses there is an old man who
is guide to every “walk” in the vicinity, and who can tell on every
round each house that is “good for a cold tatur.” The hieroglyphs that
are used are:—
☓ ~No good~; too poor, and know too much.
◠+ ~Stop~,—If you have what they want, they will buy. They are pretty
“fly” (knowing).
⊃— ~Go in this direction~, it is better than the other road. Nothing
that way.
◇ ~Bone~ (good). Safe for a “cold tatur,” if for nothing else. “Cheese
your patter” (don’t talk much) here.
▽ ~Cooper’d~ (spoilt), by too many tramps calling there.
□ ~Gammy~ (unfavourable), like to have you taken up. Mind the dog.
⦿ ~Flummuxed~ (dangerous), sure of a month in “quod” (prison).
⊕ ~Religious~, but tidy on the whole.
Where did these signs come from? and when were they first used? are
questions which have been asked again and again, and the answers have
been many and various. Knowing the character of the Gipsies, and
ascertaining from a tramp that they are well acquainted with the
hieroglyphs, “and have been as long ago as ever he could remember,”
there is little fear of being wrong in ascribing the invention to them.
How strange it would be if some modern Belzoni, or Champollion—say Mr.
George Smith, for instance—discovered in these beggars’ marks traces of
ancient Egyptian or Hindoo sign-writing!
That the Gipsies were in the habit of leaving memorials of the road they
had taken, and the successes that had befallen them, is upon record. In
an old book, _The Triumph of Wit_, 1724, there is a passage which
appears to have been copied from some older work, and it runs
thus:—“The Gipsies set out twice a year, and scatter all over England,
each parcel having their appointed stages, that they may not interfere,
nor hinder each other; and for that purpose, when they set forward in
the country, they stick up boughs in the way of divers kinds, according
as it is agreed among them, that one company may know which way another
is gone, and so take another road.” The works of Hoyland and Borrow
supply other instances.
It would be hardly fair to close this subject without drawing attention
to the extraordinary statement that, actually on the threshold of the
gibbet, the sign of the vagabond was to be met with! “The murderer’s
signal is even exhibited from the gallows; as a red handkerchief held in
the hand of the felon about to be executed is a token that he dies
without having betrayed any professional secrets.”[30] Private
executions have of course rendered this custom obsolete, even if it
ever existed.
* * * * *
Since the first editions of this work were published, the publishers
have received from various parts of England numerous evidences of the
still active use of beggars’ marks and mendicant hieroglyphs. One
gentleman writes from Great Yarmouth to say that, whilst residing in
Norwich, he used frequently to see them on the houses and street corners
in the suburbs. Another gentleman, a clergyman, states that he has so
far made himself acquainted with the meanings of the signs employed,
that by himself marking the characters ◻ (gammy) and ⦿ (flummuxed) on
the gate-posts of his parsonage, he enjoys a singular immunity from
alms-seekers and cadgers on the tramp. This hint may not be lost on many
other sufferers from importunate beggars, yet its publication may lead
to the introduction of a new code.
* * * * *
In a popular constable’s guide,[31] giving the practice of justices in
petty sessions, the following interesting paragraph is found,
corroborating what has just been said on the hieroglyphs used by
vagabonds:—
“Gipsies follow their brethren by numerous marks, such as strewing
handfuls of grass in the daytime at a four lane or cross roads; the
grass being strewn down the road the gang have taken; also, by a
cross being made on the ground with a stick or knife—the longest
end of the cross denotes the route taken. In the night-time a cleft
stick is placed in the fence at the cross roads, with an arm
pointing down the road their comrades have taken. The marks are
always placed on the left-hand side, so that the stragglers can
easily and readily find them.”
From the cleft stick here alluded to, we learn the origin and use of ⊃—,
the third hieroglyph in the vagabond’s private list. And the extract
also proves that the “rule of the road” is the same with tramps as with
that body which is morally less but physically more dangerous, the
London drivers.
FOOTNOTES:
[24] Mr. Rawlinson’s _Report to the General Board of Health, Parish of
Havant, Hampshire_.
[25] Vol. v. p. 210.
[26] Vol. i. pp. 218 and 247.
[27] See Dictionary.
[28] Sometimes, as appears from the following, the names of persons and
houses are written instead. “In almost every one of the padding-kens, or
low lodging-houses in the country, there is a list of walks pasted up
over the kitchen mantelpiece. Now at St. Albans, for instance, at the
----, and at other places, there is a paper stuck up in each of the
kitchens. This paper is headed, ‘Walks out of this town’ and underneath
it is set down the names of the villages in the neighbourhood at which a
beggar may call when out on his walk, and they are so arranged as to
allow the cadger to make a round of about six miles each day, and return
the same night. In many of these papers there are sometimes twenty walks
set down. No villages that are in any way ‘gammy’ [bad] are ever
mentioned in these papers, and the cadger, if he feels inclined to stop
for a few days in the town, will be told by the lodging-house keeper, or
the other cadgers that he may meet there, what gentlemen’s seats or
private houses are of any account on the walk that he means to take. The
names of the good houses are not set down in the paper, for fear of the
police.”—_Mayhew_, vol. i. p. 418. [This business is also much altered
in consequence of the increase in the surveillance of the kens, an
increase which, though nominally for sanitary purposes, has a strong
moral effect. Besides this, Mr. Mayhew’s informants seem to have
possessed a fair share of that romance which is inherent among
vagabonds.—ED.]
[29] See Dictionary.