“He that undertakes to compile a dictionary, undertakes that which, if
it comprehends the full extent of his design, he knows himself unable
to perform. Yet his labours, though deficient, may be useful, and with
the hope of this inferior praise, he must incite his activity, and
solace his weariness.” So wrote the great lexicographer, Dr. Johnson,
in the “Advertisement” to the fourth edition of his Dictionary of the
English Language, published in 1773. In another place he had already
told, in words which have since become classical, of the difficulties
he had encountered, and of his own estimate of the shortcomings of his
work as compared with the original design. It is in very much the same
position that I find myself, now that I have completed the first
instalment of my own task, smaller and less important though it be. I
am fully conscious of manifold imperfections; yet I hope, and indeed
believe, that I have, in my presentation of what is generically known
as “slang,” advanced the enquiry in some measure. While cordially
acknowledging the aid I have derived from the labours of my
predecessors in the field, I cannot but recognise that, again and
again, having adopted a new mode of treatment, I have found myself
forced to “blaze” the way into what was practically a terra incognita.
The difficulties were manifold, and crowded upon one at every turn from
the very outset. First and foremost came the question of deciding
whether any given word, phrase, or turn of expression could with
justice be relegated to the limbo of unorthodox speech—in short to
decide, What is Slang? As a matter of fact, I have not yet discovered,
nor have I been able to formulate any definition which covers the whole
of the ground to be traversed. As Dr. Murray truly observes, “there is
absolutely no defining line in any direction: the circle of the English
language has a well-defined centre, but no discernible circumference.”
Authorities differ between themselves, and often with themselves when
asked to set down in plain scientific terms the marks which distinguish
the vagrant words of slang from correct and orthodox English. Nor is
the difficulty removed or lessened by an analysis of the genesis, or
the application of this vast and motley crowd of heterodox words: of a
verity the borderland between slang and the “Queen’s English” is an
ill-defined territory, the limits of which have never been clearly
mapped out. It is, therefore, not without hesitation, that I have
ventured to explore this “Dark Continent” of the World of Words. If I
cast a ray of light where before was darkness, or reduce to some sort
of order where much was confusion—well and good: if, on the other hand,
my steps at times chance to falter, others will, in such a case, be
able to profit by my experience as I have by that of my predecessors.
Hence—bearing in mind the ill-defined character of much of the
enquiry—my title, “Slang and its Analogues,” which I think fairly and
accurately describes the scope and intent of the present work, though
it may not satisfy those critics who, without examination, seek to
decry or put aside that which it has cost years of labour and research
to produce. For the rest, however, a conscientious worker may well be
content to abide the result of careful and honest criticism, whether
for praise or demerit.
Great as was the initial difficulty in regard to a dividing line
between the three great divisions of colloquial English—dialectical,
technical, and slang—it was clearly and obviously necessary to draw the
line somewhere. After careful consideration, I adopted, as a standard
between literary and non-literary English, Annandale’s edition of
Ogilvie’s Imperial English Dictionary. With but few exceptions, it will
be found that no word is here included which is there set down as
forming part of the orthodox inheritance of “the noble English tongue.”
The next great difficulty with which I found myself confronted was the
determination of the exact meanings of slang words and expressions.
Frequently I discovered I had to deal with a veritable Proteus—slang
used to-day in one sense shades off to-morrow into many modifications.
This fact I have had to keep steadily in mind. It will account, in some
instances, for what may, at first sight, appear to be an unnecessarily
extended list of illustrative quotations; in such cases it will
generally be found, on examination, that different shades of meaning
are exemplified.
As regards treatment, I have adopted, though not in its entirety, what
is commonly known as the “historical method,” supplementing this by an
attempt at the comparative study of slang, i.e., the presentation of
unorthodox English in juxtaposition with the argots of other European
nations, notably those of the French, German, Italian, and Spanish
peoples. The historical usage of slang is amply illustrated by the
quotations appended to each example. These comprise in their range the
whole period of English literature from the earliest down to the
present time, my plan having been to give the first ascertainable use
of any given word or phrase, tracing it down century by century,
winding up with an example “down to date.” These illustrative
quotations, roughly speaking, number upwards of 100,000 for the whole
work. I was fortunate enough shortly after commencing my final task of
revision to have about 12,000 quotations placed at my disposal by Mr.
G. L. Apperson, of Wimbledon, who for many years has had special
knowledge of the requirements of such work, having sub-edited certain
sections of the New English Dictionary. I am glad to be able to make
special mention of my indebtedness in this respect; as also to Mr. G.
A. King, of Croydon, an old Wykehamist, for invaluable aid in
connection with public school words and phrases.
Copious materials for a comparative study of English and foreign slang
will be found in the often-times lengthy lists of analogous and
synonymous terms appended to the more important and more commonly used
examples in the body of the work. This branch of my study I shall deal
with more fully in an article to follow the completion of the
vocabulary proper, and I purpose to enhance the usefulness of that
portion of the dictionary by a complete alphabetical list of all the
foreign slang words and phrases herein used, with full references to
page and column.
For the rest, my method will, I think, need little elucidation. I have
endeavoured to make each example, with its explanation, derivation,
synonyms, and illustrative quotations, as far as possible, complete in
itself. Over and above this, however, the cross-references will be
found of considerable value for the purpose of comparison, and will, I
hope, be acceptable. I may also add that, wherever possible, I have
given a reference indicating where synonymous or analogous words may be
found. The arrangement of these synonyms has been a matter of
considerable thought; first, as to the most fitting place for
inclusion; and second, so to distribute them throughout the dictionary
as to present a piece of work evenly balanced, and ready of reference.
There are certain sources of information of which I must make special
acknowledgment. Among books, first and foremost, comes that invaluable
store-house, Notes and Queries. I have freely drawn for information
upon this inestimable periodical from its very first issue, invariably
making a note of my indebtedness, and to whom, in the text. The New
English Dictionary has also been of service in supplying, at times,
earlier examples of the use of a slang word or phrase than those of
which I was already possessed. It is not, however, without a certain
amount of perhaps pardonable satisfaction that I, working
single-handed, am often able to give much earlier illustrations of the
slang side and usage of our mother tongue, than occurs elsewhere.
As regards French Argot, Francisque Michel, Lorédan Larchey, and A.
Barrère, respectively, are the chief authorities to whom I wish to
render due acknowledgment; Avé-Lallemant and Kahle have also been
specially useful in connection with the German Gaunersprache. The dates
of quotations have, wherever possible, been finally verified by
comparison with the comprehensive and useful appendix to Dr. Brewer’s
Reader’s Handbook.
It may not be out of place to give some indication of the complete
scheme (subject to slight modification) of Slang and its Analogues. The
work will comprise:—
I. A dictionary of ancient and modern English slang, treated
historically, including copious lists of English, French,
German, and Italian synonyms, etc.
II. A chapter on the comparative study of the subject; this
embraces English cant and slang, French Argot, German
Gaunersprache, Italian Fourbesque, Spanish Germania, and
Portuguese Calão.
III. A new and exhaustive Bibliography, with copious entries of
foreign books treating of the subject.
IV. A list of authorities and references to periodical
literature, with full titles and dates as mentioned
throughout the dictionary.
V. A complete vocabulary of all foreign slang words and
expressions occurring throughout the body of the work,
with detailed references to example, page, and column.
This will form in itself a comprehensive dictionary of
foreign slang.
Note.—A table of abbreviations used in this Volume will be found on
page 406.
A DICTIONARY OF
SLANG AND ITS ANALOGUES.
A
A (vulgar)—[“ă” as in bat].—A common vulgarism in speaking for (1)
“have,” (2) “I,” (3) “he,” (4) “at,” (5) “on,” etc. It occurs in these
connections for more than 300 years; all were used by Shakspeare, as
well as by Beaumont and Fletcher and other writers of the Elizabethan
period.
A1 or A1 Copper-Bottomed, adj. phr. (popular).—Applied to men or
things, A1 is synonymous with a high degree of praise. ‘He must be a
first-rater,’ said Sam. ‘A1,’ replied Mr. Roker. [1837, Pickwick
Papers.]
The derivation of this colloquialism from the symbols used in
registering ships at Lloyd’s is pretty well known. Letters—A.A. (in
black and red), Æ (in black), E, etc.—are employed to denote various
degrees of excellence in the hulls of vessels, figures being added to
show the quality of the equipments, such as masts and rigging in
sailing vessels, or boilers and engines in steamers. When hull and
fittings alike are of the best, a vessel is classed A1. Hence, in
mercantile circles, the expression has become popularly current, in a
figurative sense, to signify the highest commercial credit; and, by a
process of expansion, excellence of quality in general, i.e.,
first-class; first-rate. The form varies, being rendered by first-class
letter a; A1 copper-bottomed; and, in the U.S.A., A1 and no mistake.
The earliest reference given in the New English Dictionary for the
colloquially figurative usage bears date 1836, but it was employed at
least two years previously in a quarter which seems definitely to fix,
not only the period of its adoption, but the process of transition as
well. A1 was a perfectly natural colloquialism in the hands of Captain
Marryat, at once an experienced seaman and a practised writer.
1833. Marryat, Peter Simple, ch. xliii. ‘Broached molasses, cask
No. 1, letter A.’
1876. C. Hindley, Life and Adventures of a Cheap Jack, p. 229.
‘Here’s spoons for six, and tea and sugar for one. Sold again! and
this time to my old sweetheart of all. She’s a prime girl, she is;
she is a number one, copper-bottomed, and can sail as well in her
stays as out of her stays; she is full rigged, and carries a lot of
canvas. But I must not tell tales out of school.’
1882. Punch, lxxxii. 181, 1. In Vino (et cetera) Veritas. ‘What’s
up, old man? You seem to be out of sorts!’ ‘Snappe’s been here. I
begged him to give me his candid opinion about my pictures. He
did!’ ‘Ah! I see! It differs from yours! Now when I want a fellow’s
candid opinion about my pictures, I ask him to dinner, give him a
first-rate bottle of claret, a cup of A1 coffee, a glass of old
cognac, and the best cigar money can buy, and then I show him my
pictures, and I always find that his candid opinion coincides with
my own.’
Eng. Synonyms. All brandy; the pure quill; about East (American); about
right; at par; the cheese; all there; bang up; a corker; up to Dick;
downy; fizzing; that’s Bible; splash up; up to the nines; up to the
knocker; down to the ground; slap up, etc.
French Synonyms. Abracadabrant, adj. (from Abracadabra); aux petits
oignons (literally ‘like small onions.’ Cf., English, ‘like a thousand
of bricks,’ and ‘like winkey’); bath (adj.: also bate. In Argot and
Slang the origin of the term is thus stated:—Towards 1848 some Bath
notepaper of superior quality was hawked about in the streets of Paris,
and sold at a low price. Thus ‘papier bath’ became synonymous of (sic)
excellent paper. In a short time the qualifying term alone remained and
received a general application); arriver bon premier (literally ‘to
arrive a good first’).
(Fenian).—Sometimes erroneously No. 1. In the copy of Hotten’s Slang
Dictionary, annotated by H. J. Byron, the playwright, now in the
British Museum, this is given as ‘a title for the commander of 900
men.’
Aaron, subs. (thieves’).—‘The Aaron,’ says H. O. Manton in Slangiana,
‘is the chief or captain of a gang or school of thieves. The title is
invariably preceded by the prefix The—par excellence the first—similar
to the eldest representatives of certain Irish and Scotch clans or
families, such as The O’Connor Don, The Chisholm, etc. As Aaron was the
first high priest ... it is probably of Jewish origin in its slang
application. An Aaron was an old cant term for one of a class of
cadgers, who combined begging with acting as guide to the summits of
mountains, chiefly to evade the laws against vagabondage, no doubt a
play, in its slang sense, on its Hebrew equivalent, lofty.’ In this
last connection a closer relationship probably exists than that just
stated, inasmuch as Gesenius thinks that the Hebrew Aaron is a
derivative of Hāron, a mountaineer. It is to be remarked that leaders
of the church were also called Aarons.
A. B., or A. B. S. (commercial).—An able-bodied seaman.—See Bottle
sucker.
1875. Chambers’ Journal, No. 627. Of all the European sailors by
far the most reliable were five stalwart A.B’S.
Abaddon, subs. (old).—A thief who, to general nefarious practices, adds
perfidy to his companions. Rarely, and perhaps only locally used. It is
obviously derived from Abaddon, the destroyer or angel of the
bottomless pit (Revelation ix., 11).
Abandannad, Abandannaad, subs. (thieves’).—1. A nearly obsolete term to
designate primarily a pickpocket, whose chief quarry is pocket
handkerchiefs or bandannas; and, hence
2. A petty thief, i.e., one whose depredations are regarded by the
fraternity as not worth the risk incurred. Brewer writes down the word
as a contraction of ‘a bandanna lad.’ With this derivation is connected
the story of an incident said to have been a prime factor in the
movement resulting in the passing of Sir Samuel Romilly’s Act for the
abolition of capital punishment for highway robberies under 40s. value.
Briefly told, it is that a footpad robbed a woman of a bandanna shawl,
valued at 9d., an offence for which a notorious highwayman was hanged.
Subsequently, however, he was proved to have been innocent, whereupon
the fact of her mistaken accusation having done an innocent man to
death so preyed upon the woman’s mind that she became raving mad. The
incidents touched the public conscience, an agitation ensued, and the
law was amended as stated.
Abandoned Habits, subs. phr. (popular).—The riding costumes of the
ladies of the demi-monde in Hyde Park—(Slangiana). The punning and
sufficiently obvious innuendo involved in the appellation hardly calls
for further comment.—See Anonyma.
Abbess or Lady Abbess, subs. (old).—The keeper of a house of ill-fame;
also a procuress. It has been suggested that the origin of this term
for the mistress of a brothel, as also that of Abbot (q.v.), the name
given to the male associate of the mistress, may be traced to the
alleged illicit amours of Abelard and Héloïse. In this connection it is
significant that, according to Francisque Michel’s Etudes Comparées sur
l’Argot, a common woman was, in the old French cant, said to come from
l’abbaye des s’offre à tous. The keeper of such an establishment was
called l’abbesse, and her associate le sacristain. The analogy was
carried still further, by the inmates being termed ‘nuns’ and ‘sisters
of charity.’ This depravation in the meaning of words, usually applied
only to the holders of sacred offices, may possibly, without undue
license, be regarded as resulting from the mockery born of the
degradation, in the popular mind, of the priestly office; or, it may
naturally flow from the loose way in which the title of ‘abbot’ was
often applied to the holders of non-monastic offices. Thus, the first
step toward degeneration may have occurred in applying the term to the
principal of a body of clergy, as an episcopal rector; or, as amongst
the Genoese, to a chief magistrate. The second stage was reached when,
in the middle ages, ‘abbot’ was applied ironically to the heads of
various guilds and associations, and to the leaders in popular
assemblages and disorderly festivities, e.g., the Abbot of
Bell-ringers, the Abbot of Misrule, the Abbot of Unreason. Henceforward
deterioration was both easy and rapid to the point when ‘abbot’ and its
co-relative abbess, signified a steward and stewardess of the stews
(q.v.). The terms are now obsolete on both sides of the Channel. In
England the modern equivalent for abbess is mother (q.v.); and in
France la maca, mère maca, la maquecée, or l’institutrice, do similar
duty.
1782. Wolcot [P. Pindar], Odes to the Pope, Ode ii. in Works
(Dublin, 1795), vol. II., p. 492.
So an old abbess, for the rattling rakes,
A tempting dish of human nature makes,
And dresses up a luscious maid.
1840. W. Kidd, London and all Its Dangers. The infernal wretches
who traffic in the souls and bodies of their helpless victims are
called lady abbesses.