OR, THE SECRET LANGUAGE OF VAGABONDS.

CANT and SLANG are universal and world-wide.

Nearly every nation on the face of the globe, polite and barbarous,

may be divided into two portions, the stationary and the wandering,

the civilised and the uncivilised, the respectable and the

scoundrel,—those who have fixed abodes and avail themselves of the

refinements of civilisation, and those who go from place to place

picking up a precarious livelihood by petty sales, begging, or theft.

This peculiarity is to be observed amongst the heathen tribes of the

southern hemisphere, as well as the oldest and most refined countries

of Europe. As Mayhew very pertinently remarks, “it would appear, that

not only are all races divisible into wanderers and settlers, but

that each civilised or settled tribe has generally some wandering

horde intermingled with, and in a measure preying upon it.” In South

Africa, the naked and miserable Hottentots are pestered by the still

more abject _Sonquas_; and it may be some satisfaction for us to know

that our old enemies at the Cape, the Kafirs, are troubled with a

tribe of rascals called _Fingoes_,—the former term, we are informed

by travellers, signifying beggars, and the latter wanderers and

outcasts. In South America, and among the islands of the Pacific,

matters are pretty much the same. Sleek and fat rascals, with not

much inclination towards honesty, fatten, or rather fasten, like body

insects, upon other rascals, who would be equally sleek and fat but for

their vagabond dependents. Luckily for respectable persons, however,

vagabonds, both at home and abroad, show certain outward peculiarities

which distinguish them from the great mass of lawful people off whom

they feed and fatten. Personal observation, and a little research into

books, enable me to mark these external traits. The wandering races

are remarkable for the development of the bones of the face, as the

jaws, cheek-bones, &c., high crowned, stubborn-shaped heads, quick

restless eyes,[1] and hands nervously itching to be doing;[2] for their

love of gambling,—staking their very existence upon a single cast; for

sensuality of all kinds; _and for their use of a CANT language with

which to conceal their designs and plunderings_.

The secret jargon, or rude speech, of the vagabonds who hang upon the

Hottentots is termed _cuze-cat_. In Finland, the fellows who steal

seal skins, pick the pockets of bear-skin overcoats, and talk Cant,

are termed Lappes. In France, the secret language of highwaymen,

housebreakers, and pickpockets is named _Argot_. The brigands and more

romantic rascals of Spain, term their private tongue _Germania_, or

Robbers’ Language. _Rothwalsch_, or Red Italian, is synonymous with

Cant and thieves’ talk in Germany. The vulgar dialect of Malta, and the

Scala towns of the Levant—imported into this country and incorporated

with English cant—is known as the _Lingua Franca_, or bastard Italian.

And the crowds of lazy beggars that infest the streets of Naples

and Rome, and the brigands that Albert Smith used to describe near

Pompeii—stopping a railway train, and deliberately rifling the pockets

and baggage of the passengers—their secret language is termed _Gergo_.

In England, as we all know, it is called _Cant_—often improperly

_Slang_.

Most nations, then, may boast, or rather lament, a vulgar tongue,

formed principally from the national language, the hereditary property

of thieves, tramps, and beggars,—the pests of civilised communities.

The formation of these secret tongues vary, of course, with the

circumstances surrounding the speakers. A writer in _Notes and

Queries_,[3] has well remarked, that “the investigation of the origin

and principles of Cant and Slang language opens a curious field of

enquiry, replete with considerable interest to the philologist and the

philosopher. It affords a remarkable instance of lingual contrivance,

which, without the introduction of much arbitrary matter, has developed

a system of communicating ideas, having all the advantages of a foreign

language.”

An inquiry into the etymology of foreign vulgar secret tongues, and

their analogy with that spoken in England, would be curious and

interesting in the extreme, but neither present space nor personal

acquirements permit of the task, and therefore the writer confines

himself to a short account of the origin of English Cant.

The terms CANT and CANTING were doubtless derived from _chaunt_ or

_chaunting_,—the “whining tone, or modulation of voice adopted by

beggars, with intent to coax, wheedle, or cajole by pretensions of

wretchedness.”[4] For the origin of the other application of the word

CANT, pulpit hypocrisy, we are indebted to a pleasant page in the

Spectator (No. 147):—“_Cant_ is by some people derived from one Andrew

Cant, who, they say, was a Presbyterian minister in some illiterate

part of Scotland, who by exercise and use had obtained the faculty,

alias gift, of talking in the pulpit in such a dialect that ’tis

said he was understood by none but his own congregation,—and not by

all of them. Since Master _Cant’s_ time it has been understood in a

larger sense, and signifies all exclamations, whinings, unusual tones,

and, in fine, all praying and preaching like the unlearned of the

Presbyterians.” This anecdote is curious, if it is not correct. It was

the custom in Addison’s time to have a fling at the blue Presbyterians,

and the mention made by _Whitelocke_ of Andrew Cant, a fanatical Scotch

preacher, and the squib upon the same worthy, in _Scotch Presbyterian

Eloquence Displayed_, may probably have started the whimsical

etymology. As far as we are concerned, however, in the present inquiry,

CANT was derived from _chaunt_, a beggar’s whine; CHAUNTING being the

recognised term amongst beggars to this day for begging orations and

street whinings; and CHAUNTER, a street talker and tramp, the very

term still used by strollers and patterers. The use of the word CANT,

amongst beggars, must certainly have commenced at a very early date,

for we find “TO CANTE, to speake,” in Harman’s list of Rogues’ Words

in the year 1566; and Harrison about the same time,[5] in speaking

of beggars and Gipseys, says, “they have devised a language among

themselves which they name CANTING, but others Pedlars’ Frenche.”

Now the word CANT in its old sense, and SLANG[6] in its modern

application, although used by good writers and persons of education

as synonymes, are in reality quite distinct and separate terms. CANT,

apart from religious hypocrisy, refers to the old secret language, by

allegory or distinct terms, of Gipseys, thieves, tramps, and beggars.

SLANG represents that evanescent, vulgar language, ever changing with

fashion and taste, which has principally come into vogue during the

last seventy or eighty years, spoken by persons in every grade of life,

rich and poor, honest and dishonest.[7] CANT is old; SLANG is always

modern and changing. To illustrate the difference: a thief in _Cant_

language would term a horse a PRANCER or a PRAD,—while in _slang_, a

man of fashion would speak of it as a BIT OF BLOOD, or a SPANKER, or

a NEAT TIT. A handkerchief, too, would be a BILLY, a FOGLE, or a KENT

RAG, in the secret language of low characters,—whilst amongst vulgar

persons, or those who aped their speech, it would be called a RAG,

a WIPE, or a CLOUT. CANT was formed for purposes of secrecy. SLANG

is indulged in from a desire to appear familiar with life, gaiety,

town-humour, and with the transient nick names and street jokes of the

day. Both Cant and Slang, I am aware, are often huddled together as

synonymes, but they are distinct terms, and as such should be used.

To the Gipseys, beggars and thieves are undoubtedly indebted for

their Cant language. The Gipseys landed in this country early in the

reign of Henry the Eighth. They were at first treated as conjurors

and magicians,—indeed they were hailed by the populace with as much

applause as a company of English theatricals usually receive on

arriving in a distant colony. They came here with all their old Eastern

arts of palmistry, fortune-telling, doubling money by incantation and

burial,—shreds of pagan idolatry; and they brought with them, also,

the dishonesty of the lower caste of Asiatics, and the vagabondism

they had acquired since leaving their ancient dwelling places in the

East, many centuries before. They possessed, also, a _language_ quite

distinct from anything that had been heard in England, and they claimed

the title of Egyptians, and as such, when their thievish wandering

propensities became a public nuisance, were cautioned and proscribed in

a royal proclamation by Henry VIII.[8] The Gipseys were not long in the

country before they found native imitators. Vagabondism is peculiarly

catching. The idle, the vagrant, and the criminal outcasts of society,

caught an idea from the so called Egyptians—soon corrupted to Gipseys.

They learned from them how to tramp, sleep under hedges and trees, to

tell fortunes, and find stolen property for a consideration—frequently,

as the saying runs, before it was lost. They also learned the value

and application of a _secret tongue_, indeed all the accompaniments of

maunding and imposture, except thieving and begging, which were well

known in this country long before the Gipseys paid it a visit,—perhaps

the only negative good that can be said in their favour.

_Harman_, in the year 1566, wrote a singular, not to say droll

book, entitled, _A Caveat for commen Cvrsetors, vulgarley called

Vagabones, newly augmented and inlarged_, wherein the history and

various descriptions of rogues and vagabonds are given, together with

their canting tongue. This book, the earliest of the kind, gives the

singular fact that within a dozen years after the landing of the

Gipseys, companies of English vagrants were formed, places of meeting

appointed, districts for plunder and begging operations marked out,

and rules agreed to for their common management. In some cases Gipseys

joined the English gangs, in others English vagrants joined the

Gipseys. The fellowship was found convenient and profitable, as both

parties were aliens to the laws and customs of the country, living in

a great measure in the open air, apart from the lawful public, and

often meeting each other on the same bye-path, or in the same retired

valley;—but seldom intermarrying, and entirely adopting each other’s

habits. The common people, too, soon began to consider them as of one

family,—all rogues, and from Egypt. The secret language spoken by the

Gipseys, principally Hindoo and extremely barbarous to English ears,

was found incomprehensible and very difficult to learn. The Gipseys,

also, found the same difficulty with the English language. A rude,

rough, and most singular compromise was made, and a mixture of Gipsey,

Old English, newly-coined words, and cribbings from any foreign, and

therefore secret language, mixed and jumbled together, formed what has

ever since been known as the CANTING LANGUAGE, or PEDLER’S FRENCH; or,

during the past century, ST. GILES’ GREEK.

Such was the origin of CANT; and in illustration of its blending

with the Gipsey or Cingari tongue, dusky and Oriental from the sunny

plains of Central Asia, I am enabled to give the accompanying list of

Gipsey, and often Hindoo words, with, in many instances, their English

adoptions.

_Gipsey._ _English._

BAMBOOZLE, to perplex or BAMBOOZLE, to delude, cheat,

mislead by hiding. _Mod Gip._ or make a fool of any one.

BOSH, rubbish, nonsense, BOSH, stupidity, foolishness.

offal. _Gipsey and Persian._

CHEESE, thing or article, CHEESE, or CHEESY, a

“that’s the CHEESE,” or first-rate or very good

thing. _Gipsey and Hindoo._ article.

CHIVE, the tongue. _Gipsey._ CHIVE, or CHIVEY, a shout,

or loud-tongued.

DADE, or DADI, a father. DADDY, nursery term for

_Gipsey._ father.[9]

DISTARABIN, a prison. _Gipsey._ STURABIN, a prison.

GAD, or GADSI, a wife. _Gipsey._ GAD, a female scold; a woman

who tramps over the country

with a beggar or hawker.

GIBBERISH, the language of GIBBERISH, rapid and

Gipseys, synonymous with unmeaning speech.

SLANG. _Gipsey._

ISCHUR, SCHUR, or CHUR, a CUR, a mean or dishonest man.

thief. _Gipsey and Hindoo._

LAB, a word. _Gipsey._ LOBS, words.

LOWE, or LOWR, money. LOWRE, money. _Ancient Cant._

_Gipsey and Wallachian._

MAMI, a grandmother. _Gipsey._ MAMMY, or MAMMA, a mother,

formerly sometimes used for

grandmother.

MANG, or MAUNG, to beg. MAUND, to beg.

_Gipsey and Hindoo._

MORT, a free woman,—one for MORT, or MOTT, a prostitute.

common use amongst the male

Gipseys, so appointed by

Gipsey custom. _Gipsey._

MU, the mouth. _Gipsey and MOO, or MUN, the mouth.

Hindoo._

MULL, to spoil or destroy. MULL, to spoil, or bungle.

_Gipsey._

PAL, a brother. _Gipsey._ PAL, a partner, or relation.

PANÉ, water. _Gipsey._ PARNEY, rain.

_Hindoo_, PAWNEE.

RIG, a performance. _Gipsey._ RIG, a frolic, or “spree.”

ROMANY, speech or language. ROMANY, the Gipsey language.

_Spanish Gipsey._

ROME, or ROMM, a man. RUM, a good man, or thing.

_Gipsey and Coptick._ In the Robbers’ language of

Spain (partly Gipsey) RUM

signifies a harlot.

ROMEE, a woman. _Gipsey._ RUMY, a good woman or girl.

SLANG, the language spoken SLANG, low, vulgar,

by Gipseys. _Gipsey._ unauthorised language.

TAWNO, little. _Gipsey._ TANNY, TEENY, little.

TSCHIB, or JIBB, the tongue. JIBB, the tongue;

_Gipsey and Hindoo._ JABBER,[10] quick-tongued,

or fast talk.

Here then we have the remarkable fact of several words of pure Gipsey

and Asiatic origin going the round of Europe, passing into this

country before the Reformation, and coming down to us through numerous

generations purely in the mouths of the people. They have seldom been

written or used in books, and simply as vulgarisms have they reached

our time. Only a few are now cant, and some are household words. The

word JOCKEY, as applied to a dealer or rider of horses, came from the

Gipsey, and means in that language a whip. Our standard dictionaries

give, of course, none but conjectural etymologies. Another word,

BAMBOOZLE, has been a sore difficulty with lexicographers. It is not in

the old dictionaries, although extensively used in familiar or popular

language for the last two centuries; in fact, the very word that Swift,

Butler, L’Estrange, and Arbuthnot would pick out at once as a telling

and most serviceable term. It is, as we have seen, from the Gipsey;

and here I must state that it was Boucher who first drew attention to

the fact, although in his remarks on the dusky tongue, he has made a

ridiculous mistake by concluding it to be identical with its offspring,

CANT. Other parallel instances, with but slight variations from the old

Gipsey meanings, could be mentioned, but sufficient examples have been

adduced to show that Marsden, the great Oriental scholar in the last

century, when he declared before the Society of Antiquaries that the

Cant of English thieves and beggars had nothing to do with the language

spoken by the despised Gipseys, was in error. Had the Gipsey tongue

been analysed and committed to writing three centuries ago, there is

every probability that many scores of words now in common use could be

at once traced to its source. Instances continually occur now-a-days

of street vulgarisms ascending to the drawing-rooms of respectable

society. Why, then, may not the Gipsey-vagabond alliance three

centuries ago have contributed its quota of common words to popular

speech?

I feel confident there is a Gipsey element in the English language

hitherto unrecognised; slender it may be, but not, therefore,

unimportant.

“Indeed,” says Moore the poet, in a humorous little book, _Tom Crib’s

Memorial to Congress_, 1819, “the Gipsey language, with the exception

of such terms as relate to their own peculiar customs, differs

but little from the regular Flash or Cant language.” But this was

magnifying the importance of the alliance. Moore knew nothing of the

Gipsey tongue other than the few Cant words put into the mouths of the

beggars, in _Beaumont and Fletcher’s Comedy of the Beggar’s Bush_,

and _Ben Jonson’s Masque of the Gipseys Metamorphosed_,—hence his

confounding Cant with Gipsey speech, and appealing to the Glossary of

Cant for so called “Gipsey” words at the end of the _Life of Bamfylde

Moore Carew_, to bear him out in his assertion. Still his remark bears

much truth, and proof would have been found long ago if any scholar had

taken the trouble to examine the “barbarous jargon of Cant,” and to

have compared it with Gipsey speech. As George Borrow, in his _Account

of the Gipseys in Spain_, eloquently concludes his second volume,

speaking of the connection of the Gipseys with Europeans:—“Yet from

this temporary association were produced two results: European fraud

became sharpened by coming into contact with Asiatic craft; whilst

European tongues, by imperceptible degrees, became recruited with

various words (some of them wonderfully expressive), many of which have

long been stumbling-blocks to the philologist, who, whilst stigmatising

them as words of mere vulgar invention, or of unknown origin, has been

far from dreaming that a little more research or reflection would have

proved their affinity to the Sclavonic, Persian, or Romaic, or perhaps

to the mysterious object of his veneration, the Sanscrit, the sacred

tongue of the palm-covered regions of Ind; words originally introduced

into Europe by objects too miserable to occupy for a moment his

lettered attention,—the despised denizens of the tents of Roma.”

But the Gipseys, their speech, their character—bad enough as all the

world testifies—their history and their religious belief, have been

totally disregarded, and their poor persons buffeted and jostled about

until it is a wonder that any trace of origin or national speech exists

in them. On the continent they received better attention at the hands

of learned men. Their language was taken down, their history traced,

and their extraordinary customs and practice of living in the open

air, and eating raw or putrid meat, explained. They ate reptiles and

told fortunes, because they had learnt it through their forefathers

centuries back in Hindostan, and they devoured carrion because the

Hindoo proverb—“_that which God kills is better than that killed by

man_,”[11]—was still in their remembrance. Grellman, a learned German,

was their principal historian, and to him we are almost entirely

indebted for the little we know of their language.[12]

GIPSEY then started, and partially merged into CANT, and the old story

told by Harrison and others, that the first inventor of canting was

hanged for his pains, would seem to be a fable, for jargon as it is,

it was, doubtless, of gradual formation, like all other languages or

systems of speech. The Gipseys at the present day all know the _old

cant_ words, as well as their own tongue,—or rather what remains of it.

As Borrow states, “the dialect of the English Gipseys is mixed with

English words.”[13] Those of the tribe who frequent fairs, and mix

with English tramps, readily learn the new words, as they are adopted

by what Harman calls, “the fraternity of vagabonds.” Indeed, the old

CANT is a common language to vagrants of all descriptions and origin

scattered over the British Isles.

Ancient English CANT has considerably altered since the first

dictionary was compiled by Harman, in 1566. A great many words are

unknown in the present tramps’ and thieves’ vernacular. Some of them,

however, bear still their old definitions, while others have adopted

fresh meanings,—to escape detection, I suppose. “ABRAHAM MAN” is yet

seen in our modern SHAM ABRAHAM, or PLAY THE OLD SOLDIER, _i.e._,

to feign sickness or distress. “AUTUM” is still a church or chapel

amongst Gipseys; and “BECK,” a constable, is our modern cant and slang

BEEK, a policeman or magistrate. “BENE,” or BONE, stands for _good_

in Seven Dials, and the back streets of Westminster; and “BOWSE” is

our modern BOOZE, to drink or fuddle. A “BOWSING KEN” was the old cant

term for a public house, and BOOZING KEN, in modern cant, has precisely

the same meaning. “BUFE” was then the term for a dog, now it is

BUFFER,—frequently applied to men. “CASSAN” is both old and modern cant

for cheese; the same may be said of “CHATTES” or CHATTS, the gallows.

“COFE,” or COVE, is still the vulgar synonyme for a man. “DRAWERS”

was hose, or “hosen,”—now applied to the lining for trousers. “DUDES”

was cant for clothes, we now say DUDDS. “FLAG” is still a fourpenny

piece; and “FYLCHE” means to rob. “KEN” is a house, and “LICK” means

to thrash; “PRANCER” is yet known amongst rogues as a horse; and “to

PRIG,” amongst high and low, is to steal. Three centuries ago, if

one beggar said anything disagreeable to another, the person annoyed

would say “STOW YOU,” or hold your peace; low people now say STOW IT,

equivalent to “be quiet.” “TRINE” is still to hang; “WYN” yet stands

for a penny. And many other words, as will be seen in the glossary,

still retain their ancient meaning.

As specimens of those words which have altered their original cant

signification, I may instance “CHETE,” now written CHEAT. CHETE was

in ancient cant what _chop_ is in the Canton-Chinese,—an almost

inseparable adjunct. Everything was termed a CHETE, and qualified by

a substantive-adjective, which showed what kind of a CHETE was meant;

for instance, “CRASHING CHETES” were teeth; a “MOFFLING CHETE,” a

napkin; a “GRUNTING CHETE,” a pig, &c. &c. CHEAT now-a-days means

to defraud or swindle, and lexicographers have tortured etymology

for an original—but without success. _Escheats_ and _escheatours_

have been named, but with great doubts; indeed, Stevens, the learned

commentator on Shakespere, acknowledged that he “did not recollect to

have met with the word _cheat_ in our ancient writers.”[14] CHEAT, to

defraud, then, is no other than an old Cant term, somewhat altered

in its meaning,[15] and as such it should be described in the next

Etymological Dictionary. Another instance of a change in the meaning of

the old Cant, but the retention of the word is seen in “CLY,” formerly

to take or steal, now a pocket;—remembering a certain class of low

characters, a curious connection between the two meanings will be

discovered. “MAKE” was a halfpenny, we now say MAG,—MAKE being modern

Cant for appropriating,—“convey the wise it call.” “MILLING” stood for

stealing, it is now a pugilistic term for fighting or beating. “NAB”

was a head,—low people now say NOB, the former meaning, in modern

Cant, to steal or seize. “PEK” was meat,—we still say PECKISH, when

hungry. “PRYGGES, _dronken Tinkers or beastly people_,” as old Harman

wrote, would scarcely be understood now; a PRIG, in the 19th century,

is a pickpocket or thief. “QUIER,” or QUEER, like _cheat_, was a very

common prefix, and meant bad or wicked,—it now means odd, curious, or

strange; but to the ancient cant we are indebted for the word, which

etymologists should remember.[16] “ROME,” or RUM, formerly meant good,

or of the first quality, and was extensively used like _cheat_ and

_queer_,—indeed as an adjective it was the opposite of the latter. RUM

now means curious, and is synonymous with queer, thus,—a “RUMMY old

fellow,” or a “QUEER old man.” Here again we see the origin of an every

day word, scouted by lexicographers and snubbed by respectable persons,

but still a word of frequent and popular use. “YANNAM” meant bread,

PANNUM is the word now. Other instances could be pointed out, but they

will be observed in the dictionary.

Several words are entirely obsolete. “ALYBBEG” no longer means a bed,

nor “ASKEW” a cup. “BOOGET,”[17] now-a-days, would not be understood

for a basket; neither would “GAN” pass current for mouth. “FULLAMS”

was the old cant term for false or loaded dice, and although used

by Shakespere in this sense, is now unknown and obsolete. Indeed,

as Tom Moore somewhere remarks, the present Greeks of St. Giles,

themselves, would be thoroughly puzzled by many of the ancient canting

songs,—taking for example, the first verse of an old favourite:

Bing out, bien Morts, and toure and toure,

Bing out, bien Morts, and toure;

For all your duds are bing’d awast;

The bien cove hath the loure.[18]

But I think I cannot do better than present to the reader at once an

entire copy of the first Canting Dictionary ever compiled. As before

mentioned, it was the work of one Thos. Harman, a gentleman who lived

in the days of Queen Elizabeth. Some writers have remarked that

Decker[19] was the first to compile a Dictionary of the vagabonds’

tongue; whilst Borrow,[20] and Moore, the poet, stated that Richard

Head performed that service in his _Life of an English Rogue_,

published in the year 1680. All these statements are equally incorrect,

for the first attempt was made more than a century before the latter

work was issued. The quaint spelling and old-fashioned phraseology are

preserved, and the reader will quickly detect many vulgar street words,

old acquaintances, dressed in antique garb.[21]

_ABRAHAM-MEN_, be those that fayn themselves to have beene mad, and

have bene kept either in Bethelem, or in some other pryson a good

time.

_ALYBBEG_, a bedde.

_ASKEW_, a cuppe.

_AUTEM_, a churche.

_AUTEM MORTES_, married wemen as chaste as a cowe.

_BAUDYE BASKETS_, bee women who goe with baskets and capcases on

their armes, wherein they have laces, pinnes, nedles, whyte inkel,

and round sylke gyrdels of all colours.

_BECK_ [Beek], a constable.

_BELLY-CHETE_, apron.

_BENE_, good. _Benar_, better.

_BENSHIP_, very good.

_BLETING CHETE_, a calfe or sheepe.

_BOOGET_, a travelling tinker’s baskete.

_BORDE_, a shilling.

_BOUNG_, a purse [_Friesic_, pong].

_BOWSE_, drink.

_BOWSING-KEN_, a alehouse.

_BUFE_ [buffer, a man], a dogge.

_BYNGE A WASTE_, go you hence.

_CACKLING-CHETE_, a coke [cock], or capon.

_CASSAN_ [cassam], cheese.

_CASTERS_, a cloake.

_CATETH_, “the vpright Cofe _cateth_ to the Roge” [probably a

shortening or misprint of _Canteth_].

_CHATTES_, the gallowes.

_CHETE_ [see what has been previously said about this word].

_CLY_ [a pocket], to take, receive, or have.

_COFE_ [cove], a person.

_COMMISSION_ [mish], a shirt.

_COUNTERFET CRANKE_, these that do counterfet the Cranke be yong

knaves and yonge harlots, that deeply dissemble the falling sicknes.

_CRANKE_ [cranky, foolish], falling evil [or wasting sickness].

_CRASHING-CHETES_, teeth.

_CUFFEN_, a manne [a _cuif_ in Northumberland and Scotland signifies

a lout or awkward fellow].

_DARKEMANS_, the night.

_DELL_, a yonge wench.

_DEWSE-A-VYLE_, the countrey.

_DOCK_, to deflower.

_DOXES_, harlots.

_DRAWERS_, hosen.

_DUDES_ [or dudds], clothes.

_FAMBLES_, handes.

_FAMBLING-CHETE_, a ring on one’s hand.

_FLAGG_, a groat.

_FRATER_, a beggar wyth a false paper.

_FRESHE-WATER-MARINERS_, these kind of caterpillers counterfet great

losses on the sea:—their shippes were drowned in the playne of

Salisbury.

_FYLCHE_, to robbe: _Fylch-man_ [a robber].

_GAGE_, a quart pot.

_GAN_, a mouth.

_GENTRY COFE_, a noble or gentle man.

_GENTRY-COFES-KEN_, a noble or gentle man’s house.

_GENTRY MORT_, a noble or gentle woman.

_GERRY_, excrement.

_GLASYERS_, eyes.

_GLYMMAR_, fyer.

_GRANNAM_, corne.

_GRUNTING-CHETE_, a pygge.

_GYB_, a writing.

_GYGER_ [jigger], a dore.

_HEARING-CHETES_, eares.

_JARKE_, a seale.

_JARKEMAN_, one who make writings and set seales for [counterfeit]

licences and pasports.

_KEN_, a house.

_KYNCHEN CO_ [or _cove_], a young boye trained up like a “_Kynching

Morte_.” [From the German diminutive _Kindschen_.]

_KYNCHING MORTE_, is a little gyrle, carried at their mothers’ backe

in a slate, or sheete, who brings them up sauagely.

_LAG_, water.

_LAG OF DUDES_, a bucke [or basket] of clothes.

_LAGE_, to washe.

_LAP_, butter, mylke, or whey.

_LIGHTMANS_, the day.

_LOWING-CHETE_, a cowe.

_LOWRE_, money.

_LUBBARES_,—“sturdy _Lubbares_,” country bumpkins, or men of a low

degree.

_LYB-BEG_, a bed.

_LYCKE_ [lick], to beate.

_LYP_, to lie down.

_LYPKEN_, a house to lye in.

_MAKE_ [mag], a halfpenny.

_MARGERI PRATER_, a hen.

_MILLING_, to steale [by sending a child in at the window].

_MOFLING-CHETE_, a napkin.

_MORTES_ [motts], harlots.

_MYLL_, to robbe.

_MYNT_, gold.

_NAB_ [nob], a heade.

_NABCHET_, a hat or cap.

_NASE_, dronken.

_NOSEGENT_, a nunne.

_PALLYARD_, a borne beggar [who counterfeits sickness, or incurable

sores. They are mostly Welshmen, Harman says].

_PARAM_, mylke.

_PATRICO_, a priest.

_PATRICOS KINCHEN_, a pygge [a satirical hit at the church, _Patrico_

meaning a parson or priest, and _Kinchen_ his little boy or girl].

_PEK_ [peckish], meat.

_POPPELARS_, porrage.

_PRAT_, a buttocke.

_PRATLING-CHETE_, a toung.

_PRAUNCER_, a horse.

_PRIGGER OF PRAUNCERS_, be horse stealers, for to prigge signifieth

in their language to steale, and a Prauncer is a horse, so being

put together, the matter was playn. [Thus writes old Thomas Harman,

who concludes his description of this order of “pryggers,” by very

quietly saying, “I had the best gelding stolen out of my pasture,

that I had amongst others, whyle this book was first a printing.”]

_PRYGGES_, dronken Tinkers, or beastly people.

_QUACKING-CHETE_, a drake or duck.

_QUAROMES_, a body.

_QUIER_ [queer], badde [see what has been previously said about this

word].

_QUYER CRAMP-RINGES_, boltes or fetters.

_QUIER CUFFIN_, the iustice of peace.

_QUYER-KYN_, a pryson house.

_RED SHANKE_, a drake or ducke.

_ROGER_, a goose.

_ROME_, goode [now curious, noted, or remarkable in any way. _Rum_ is

the modern orthography].

_ROME BOUSE_ [rum booze], wyne.

_ROME MORT_, the Queene [Elizabeth].

_ROME VYLE_ [or Rum-ville], London.

_RUFF PECK_, baken [short bread, common in old times at farm houses].

_RUFFMANS_, the woods or bushes.

_SALOMON_, a alter or masse.

_SKYPPER_, a barne.

_SLATE_, a sheete or shetes.

_SMELLING CHETE_, a nose.

_SMELLING CHETE_, a garden or orchard.

_SNOWT FAYRE_ [said of a woman who has a pretty face or is comely].

_STALL_ [to initiate a beggar or rogue into the rights and privileges

of the canting order. Harman relates, that when an upright-man, or

initiated, first-class rogue, “mete any beggar, whether he be sturdy

or impotent, he will demand of him whether ever he was ‘_stalled to

the roge_’ or no. If he say he was, he will know of whom, and his

name yt stalled him. And if he be not learnedly able to show him the

whole circumstance thereof, he will spoyle him of his money, either

of his best garment, if it be worth any money, and haue him to the

bowsing ken: which is, to some typpling house next adjoyninge, and

layth there to gage the best thing that he hath for twenty pence or

two shillings: this man obeyeth for feare of beatinge. Then dooth

this upright man call for a gage of bowse, which is a quarte potte of

drink, and powres the same vpon his peld pate, adding these words,—I,

_G. P._ do stalle the, _W. T._ to the Roge, and that from henceforth

it shall be lawfull for thee to cant, that is to aske or begge for

thi liuiug in al places.” Something like this treatment is the

popular idea of Freemasonry, and what schoolboys term “freeing.”]

_STAMPES_, legges.

_STAMPERS_, shoes.

_STAULING KEN_, a house that will receyue stollen wares.

_STAWLINGE-KENS_, tippling houses.

_STOW YOU_ [stow it], hold your peace.

_STRIKE_, to steale.

_STROMMELL_, strawe.

_SWADDER_, or _Pedler_ [a man who hawks goods].

_THE HIGH PAD_, the highway.

_THE RUFFIAN CLY THEE_, the devil take thee.

_TOGEMANS_ [togg], a cloake.

_TOGMAN_, a coate.

_TO BOWSE_, to drinke.

_TO CANTE_, to speake.

_TO CLY THE GERKE_, to be whipped.

_TO COUCH A HOGSHEAD_, to lie down and slepe.

_TO CUTTE_, to say [_cut it_ is modern slang for “be quiet”].

_TO CUT BENE WHYDDES_, to speake or give good words.

_TO CUTTE QUYER WHYDDES_, to giue euil words or euil language.

_TO CUT BENLE_, to speak gentle.

_TO DUP YE GYGER_ [jigger], to open the dore.

_TO FYLCHE_, to robbe.

_TO HEUE A BOUGH_, to robbe or rifle a boweth [booth].

_TO MAUNDE_, to aske or require.

_TO MILL A KEN_, to robbe a house.

_TO NYGLE_ [coition].

_TO NYP A BOUNG_ [nip, to steal], to cut a purse.

_TO SKOWER THE CRAMPRINGES_, to weare boltes or fetters.

_TO STALL_, to make or ordain.

_TO THE RUFFIAN_, to the Devil.

_TO TOWRE_, to see.

_TRYNING_ [trine], hanging.

_TYB OF THE BUTERY_, a goose.

_WALKING MORTE_, womene [who pass for widows].

_WAPPING_ [coition].

_WHYDDES_, wordes.

_WYN_, a penny.

_YANNAM_, bread.

Turning our attention more to the Cant of modern times, in connection

with the old, we find that words have been drawn into the thieves’

vocabulary from every conceivable source. Hard or infrequent words,

vulgarly termed _crack-jaw_, or _jaw-breakers_, were very often used

and considered as cant terms. And here it should be mentioned that

at the present day the most inconsistent and far-fetched terms are

often used for secret purposes, when they are known to be caviare

to the million. It is really laughable to know that such words as

_incongruous_, _insipid_, _interloper_, _intriguing_, _indecorum_,

_forestal_, _equip_, _hush_, _grapple_, &c. &c., were current Cant

words a century and a half ago; but such was the case, as any one may

see in the _Dictionary of Canting Words_, at the end of _Bacchus and

Venus_,[22] 1737. They are inserted not as jokes or squibs, but as

selections from the veritable pocket dictionaries of the Jack Sheppards

and Dick Turpins of the day. If they were safely used as unknown and

cabalistic terms amongst the commonalty, the fact would form a very

curious illustration of the ignorance of our poor ancestors. One

piece of information is conveyed to us, _i.e._, that the “Knights” or

“Gentlemen of the road,” using these polite words in those days of

highwaymen, were really well educated men,—which heretofore has always

been a hard point of belief, notwithstanding old novels and operas.

Amongst those Cant words which have either altered their meaning, or

have become extinct, I may cite LADY, formerly the Cant for “a very

crooked, deformed, and ill-shapen woman;”[23] and HARMAN, “a pair of

stocks, or a constable.” The former is a pleasant piece of satire,

whilst the latter indicates a singular method of revenge. HARMAN was

the first author who specially wrote against English vagabonds, and for

his trouble his name became synonymous with a pair of stocks, and a

policeman of the olden time.

Apart from the Gipsey element, we find that Cant abounds in terms from

foreign languages, and that it exhibits the growth of most recognised

and completely formed tongues,—the gathering of words from foreign

sources. In the reign of Elizabeth and of King James I., several

Dutch, Spanish, and Flemish words were introduced by soldiers who had

served in the Low Countries, and sailors who had returned from the

Spanish Main, who like “mine ancient Pistol” were fond of garnishing

their speech with outlandish phrases. Many of these were soon picked

up and adopted by vagabonds and tramps in their Cant language. The

Anglo-Norman and the Anglo-Saxon, the Scotch, the French, the Italian,

and even the classic languages of ancient Italy and Greece, have

contributed to its list of words,—besides the various provincial

dialects of England. Indeed, as Mayhew remarks, English Cant seems

to be formed on the same basis as the _Argot_ of the French, and the

_Roth-Spræc_ of the Germans,—partly metaphorical, and partly by the

introduction of such corrupted foreign terms as are likely to be

unknown to the society amid which the Cant speakers exist. ARGOT is the

London thieves’ word for their secret language,—it is, of course, from

the French, but that matters not so long as it is incomprehensible to

the police and the mob. BOOZE, or BOUSE, I am reminded by a friendly

correspondent, comes from the Dutch, BUYSEN. DOMINE, a parson, is

from the Latin; and DON, a clever fellow, has been filched from the

Spanish. DONNA AND FEELES, a woman and children, is from the Lingua

Franca, or bastard Italian, although it sounds like an odd mixture of

Spanish and French; whilst DUDDS, the vulgar term for clothes, may have

been pilfered either from the Gaelic or the Dutch. FEELE, a daughter,

from the French; and FROW, a girl or wife, from the German—are common

tramps’ terms. So are GENT, silver, from the French, _Argent_; and

VIAL, a country town, also from the French. HORRID-HORN, a fool, is

believed to be from the Erse; and GLOAK, a man, from the Scotch. As

stated before, the Dictionary will supply numerous other instances.

There is one source, however, of secret street terms, which, in

the first edition of this work, was entirely overlooked,—indeed,

it was unknown to the editor until pointed out by a friendly

correspondent,—the _Lingua Franca_, or bastard Italian, spoken at

Genoa, Trieste, Malta, Constantinople, Smyrna, Alexandria, and all

Mediterranean seaport towns. The ingredients of this imported Cant

are many. Its foundation is Italian, with a mixture of modern Greek,

German (from the Austrian ports), Spanish, Turkish, and French. It has

been introduced to the notice of the London wandering tribes by the

sailors, foreign and English, who trade to and from the Mediterranean

seaports, by the swarms of organ players from all parts of Italy, and

by the makers of images from Rome and Florence,—all of whom, in dense

thoroughfares, mingle with our lower orders. It would occupy too much

space here to give a list of these words. They are all noted in the

Dictionary.

“There are several Hebrew terms in our Cant language, obtained, it

would appear, from the intercourse of the thieves with the Jew _fences_

(receivers of stolen goods); many of the Cant terms, again, are

Sanscrit, got from the Gipseys; many Latin, got by the beggars from

the Catholic prayers before the Reformation; and many, again, Italian,

got from the wandering musicians and others; indeed the showmen have

but lately introduced a number of Italian phrases into their Cant

language.”[24] The Hindostanèe also contributes several words, and

these have been introduced by the Lascar sailors, who come over here

in the East Indiamen, and lodge during their stay in the low tramps’

lodging houses at the East end of London. Speaking of the learned

tongues, I may mention that, precarious and abandoned as the vagabond’s

existence is, many persons of classical or refined education have from

time to time joined the ranks,—occasionally from inclination, as in

the popular instance of Bamfylde Moore Carew, but generally through

indiscretion, and loss of character.[25] This will in some measure

account for numerous classical and learned words figuring as Cant terms

in the vulgar Dictionary.

In the early part of the last century, when highwaymen were by all

accounts so plentiful, a great many new words were added to the canting

vocabulary, whilst several old terms fell into disuse. CANT, for

instance, as applied to thieves’ talk, was supplanted by the word FLASH.

A singular feature, however, in vulgar language, is the retention

and the revival of sterling old English words, long since laid up

in ancient manuscripts, or the subject of dispute among learned

antiquaries. Disraeli somewhere says, “the purest source of _neology_

is in the revival of _old words_”—

“Words that wise Bacon or brave Rawleigh spake,”

and Dr. Latham honours our subject by remarking that “the thieves of

London are the conservators of Anglo-Saxonisms.” Mayhew, too, in his

interesting work, _London Labour and London Poor_, admits that many

Cant and Slang phrases are merely old English terms, which have

become obsolete through the caprices of fashion. And the reader who

looks into the Dictionary of the vagabonds’ lingo, will see at a

glance that these gentlemen were quite correct, and that we are

compelled to acknowledge the singular truth that a great many old

words, once respectable, and in the mouths of kings and fine ladies,

are now only so many signals for shrugs and shudders amongst

exceedingly polite people. A Belgravian gentleman who had lost his

watch or his pocket-handkerchief, would scarcely remark to his mamma

that it had been BONED—yet BONE, in old times, meant to steal

amongst high and low. And a young lady living in the precincts of

dingy, but aristocratic May-Fair, although enraptured with a Jenny

Lind or a Ristori, would hardly think of turning back in the box to

inform papa that she, Ristori or Lind, “made no BONES of it”—yet the

phrase was most respectable and well-to-do, before it met with a

change of circumstances. “A CRACK article,” however first-rate,

would, as far as speech is concerned, have greatly displeased Dr.

Johnson and Mr. Walker—yet both CRACK, in the sense of excellent,

and CRACK UP, to boast or praise, were not considered vulgarisms in

the time of Henry VIII. DODGE, a cunning trick, is from the

Anglo-Saxon; and ancient nobles used to “get each other’s DANDER UP”

before appealing to their swords,—quite FLABERGASTING (also a

respectable old word) the half score of lookers-on with the thumps

and cuts of their heavy weapons. GALLAVANTING, waiting upon the

ladies, was as polite in expression as in action; whilst a clergyman

at Paule’s Crosse, thought nothing of bidding a noisy hearer to

“hold his GAB,” or “shut up his GOB.” GADDING, roaming about in an

idle and trapesing manner, was used in an old translation of the

Bible; and “to do anything GINGERLY” was to do it with great care.

Persons of modern tastes will be shocked to know that the great Lord

Bacon spoke of the lower part of a man’s face as his GILLS.

Shakespere, or as the French say, “the divine William,” also used many

words which are now counted as dreadfully vulgar. “CLEAN gone,” in the

sense of out of sight, or entirely away; “you took me all A-MORT,” or

confounded me; “it won’t FADGE,” or suit, are phrases taken at random

from the great dramatist’s works. A London costermonger, or inhabitant

of the streets, instead of saying “I’ll make him yield,” or “give

in,” in a fight or contest, would say, “I’ll make him BUCKLE under.”

Shakespere, in his _Henry the Fourth_ (Part 2, Act i., Scene 1) has the

word, and Mr. Halliwell, one of the greatest and most industrious of

living antiquaries, informs us, that “the commentators do not supply

another example.” How strange, then, that the Bard of Avon, and the

Cockney costermongers, should be joint partners and sole proprietors

of the vulgarism. If Shakespere was not a pugilist, he certainly

anticipated the terms of the prize ring—or they were respectable words

before the prize ring was thought of—for he has PAY, to beat or thrash,

and PEPPER, with a similar meaning; also FANCY, in the sense of pets

and favourites,—pugilists are often termed _the_ FANCY. The cant word

PRIG, from the Saxon, _priccan_, to filch, is also Shakesperian; so

indeed is PIECE, a contemptuous term for a young woman. Shakespere was

not the only vulgar dramatist of his time. Ben Jonson, Beaumont and

Fletcher, Brome, and other play-writers, occasionally put cant words

into the mouths of their low characters, or employed old words which

have since degenerated into vulgarisms. CRUSTY, poor tempered; “two of

a KIDNEY,” two of a sort; LARK, a piece of fun; LUG, to pull; BUNG, to

give or pass; PICKLE, a sad plight; FRUMP, to mock, are a few specimens

casually picked from the works of the old histrionic writers.

One old English mode of canting, simple and effective when familiarised

by practice, was the inserting a consonant betwixt each syllable; thus,

taking _g_, “How do you do?” would be “Hou_g_ do_g_ you_g_ do_g_?” The

name very properly given to this disagreeable nonsense, we are informed

by Grose, was _Gibberish_.

Another Cant has recently been attempted by transposing the initial

letters of words, so that a mutton chop becomes a _c_utton _m_op, a

pint of stout a _s_tint of _p_out; but it is satisfactory to know that

it has gained no ground. This is called _Marrowskying_, or _Medical

Greek_, from its use by medical students at the hospitals. Albert Smith

terms it the _Gower-street Dialect_.

The _Language of Ziph_, I may add, is another rude mode of disguising

English, in use among the students at Winchester College.

A Dictionary of Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words Used at the Present Day in the Streets of London; the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge; the Houses of Parliament; the Dens of St. Giles; and the Palaces of St. James. · 第 27 / 332 题