SLANG, CANT, AND FLASH.
As Slang is a species of parody of our mother tongue, and as many songs are written in it, it must be alluded to in this Collection, however briefly.
A few examples will be quoted, followed by a bibliography, including mention also of Dictionaries devoted to Satirical and Political slang.
Thieves slang, or “cant,” is of multifold origin, but is mainly derived from Romany or gipsy talk, with an admixture of Anglo-Saxon, Latin, and French words.
Rhyming and back-slang are two other forms of purely native manufacture, both arbitrary, and artificial in their construction.
By the former any word that rhymes with the one that is intended is substituted for it, and gradually becomes accepted. This method is somewhat complicated, and is, of course, almost unintelligible to the uninitiated, which is precisely why it is adopted by thieves and their associates.
Back-slang is largely patronised by costermongers. It consists in spelling backwards the principal words in a sentence, with more or less accuracy. Thus, “Hi, yob! kool that enif elrig with the nael ekom. Ssap her a top o’ reeb and a tib of occabot,” simply means “Hi boy! look at that fine girl with the lean moke. Pass her a pot of beer and a bit of tobacco.”
Although slang is principally indulged in by the lower orders and criminal classes, it must not be forgotten that many slang words have been adopted and incorporated into our general language, to say nothing of Americanisms, which are also constantly being absorbed. Every profession, too, has its slang, or technical language, which is mainly unintelligible to the outside world. Thus Soldiers, Sailors, Engineers, Doctors, and Lawyers, have their own phraseology, but what is most objectionable is the Clerical slang. This imparts a fine full flavoured tone of hypocrisy to any ordinary conversation by dragging in “D.V.” references to the Deity, and the quotation of scraps of Holy writ in the most unnecessary profusion, and in the most unseemly contrast with trivial statements of every day life.
The House Breaker’s Song.
I ne’er was a nose[57] for the reg’lars[58] came
Whenever a pannie[59] was done:—
Oh! who would chirp[60] to dishonour his name,
And betray his pals[61] in a nibsome[62] game
To the traps?[63]—Not I for one!
Let nobs in the fur trade[64] hold their jaw,
And let the jug[65] be free;—
Let Davy’s dust[66] and a well-faked claw[67]
For Fancy coves be the only law,
And a double tongued squib[68] to keep in awe
The chaps that flout at me!
From morn to night we’ll booze a ken[69],
And we’ll pass the bingo[70] round;
At dusk we’ll make our lucky[71], and then,
With our nags so flash, and our merry men,
We’ll scour the lonely ground.
And if the swells resist our “Stand!”
We’ll squib[72] without a joke;
For I’m snigger’d if we will be trepanned
By the blarneying jaw of a knowing hand,
And thus be lagged[73] to a foreign land,
Or die by an artichoke[74].
But should the traps be on the sly,
For a change we’ll have a crack[75];
The richest cribs[76] shall our wants supply—
Or we’ll knap[77] a fogle[78] with fingers fly[79],
When the swell one turns his back.
The flimsies we can smash[80] as well,
Or a ticker[81] deftly prig;—
But if ever a pal in limbo fell,
He’d sooner be scragg’d[82] at once than tell;
Though the hum-box patterer[83] talked of hell,
And the beak[84] wore his nattiest wig[85]!
From “Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France.” by G. W. M. Reynolds. (Chapter 26.)
Nix my Dolly, Pals, Fake Away!
In a box of the stone Jug I was born,
Of a hempen widow the kid forlorn,—
Fake away!
My noble father, as I’ve heard say,
Was a famous merchant of capers gay;
Nix my dolly, pals,—fake away!
Nix my dolly, &c.
The knucks in quod did my shoolmen play,
And put me up to the time of day;—
Fake away!
No dummy-hunter had forks so fly,
No knuckler so deftly could take a cly;
Nix my dolly, &c.
But my nuttiest lady, one fine day,
To the beaks did her gentleman betray,—
Fake away!
Thus was I bowl’d out at last,
And into the Jug for a lag was cast;
Nix my dolly, &c.
But I slipp’d my darbies one morn in May,
And gave to the dubsman a holiday,—
Fake away!
And here I am, pals, merry and free,
A regular rollicking Romany;
Nix my dolly, &c.
W. Harrison Ainsworth.
“Dear Bill, This Stone-Jug.”
(Being an Epistle from Toby Cracksman, in Newgate, to Bill Sykes.)
Dear Bill, this stone-jug,[86] at which flats dare to rail,
(From which till the next Central sittings I hail)
Is still the same snug, free-and-easy old hole,
Where Macheath met his blowens,[87] and Wylde floor’d his bowl.
In a ward with one’s pals,[88] not locked up in a cell,
To an old hand like me it’s a fam-ly[89]-hotel.
In the day-rooms the cuffins[90] we queer at our ease,
And at Darkman’s[91] we run the rig just as we please;
There’s your peck[92] and your lush, hot and reg’lar, each day.
All the same if you work, all the same if you play.
But the lark’s when a goney[93] up with us they shut,
As ain’t up to our lurks,[94] our flash-patter,[95] and smut;
But soon in his eye nothing green would remain,
He knows what’s o’clock when he comes out again.
And the next time he’s quodded[96] so downy and snug,
He may thank us for making him fly to the jug.[97]
But here comes a cuffin—which cuts short my tale,
It’s agin rules is screevin’[98] to pals out o’ gaol.
(The following postscript seems to have been added when the Warder had passed.)
For them coves in Guildhall and that blessed Lord Mayor,
Prigs on their four bones should chop whiners,[99] I swear:
That long over Newgit their Worships may rule,
As the High-toby, mob, crack and screeve[100] model school;
For if Guv’ment was here, not the Alderman’s Bench,
Newgit soon ’ud be bad as “the Pent” or “the Tench.”[101]
Note.—We subjoin a Glossary of Mr. Cracksman’s lingo:—
[Transcriber's Note: See footnotes [86]-[101].]
Punch. January 31, 1857.
The Chick-a-Leary Cove.
I’m a “Chickaleary bloke”[102] with my one, two, three,
Whitechapel was the village, I was born in,
For to get me on the hop, or on my “tibby”[103] drop,
You must wake up very early in the morning.
I have a “rorty”[104] gal, also a knowing pal,
And merrily together we jog on,
I doesn’t care a “flatch”[105] as long as I’ve a “tach,”[106]
Some “pan-num”[107] for my chest, and a “tog”[108] on.
I’m a Chickaleary bloke with my one, two, three,
Whitechapel is the village I was born in,
For to get me on the hop, or on my “tibby” drop,
You must wake up very early in the morning.
Now “kool”[109] my downy “kicksies”[110] the style for me,
Built upon a plan werry naughty,
The stock around my “squeeze”[111] a “guiver”[112] colour see,
And the “vestat”[113] with the “bins”[114] so “rorty.”
My tailor serves you well, from a “perger”[115] to a swell,
At Groves’ you’re safe to make a sure pitch,[116]
For ready “yenom”[117] down, there aint a shop in town
Can “lick” Groves’ in the “Cut” as well as Shoreditch.
I’m a Chickaleary bloke, &c.
Off to Paris I shall go, to show a thing or two,
To the “dipping blokes”[118] what hangs about the caffes,
How to do a “cross-fan”[119] for a “super”[120] or a slang,[121]
And to “bustle”[122] them “grand’armes”[123] I’d give the office.
Now my pals I’m going to slope, see you soon again, I hope,
My young woman is avaiting, so be quick,
Now join in a “chyike”[124] the “jolly”[125] we all like;
I’m off with a party to the “Vic.”
I’m a Chickaleary bloke, &c.
The Thieves’ Chaunt.
There is a nook in the boozing ken,[126]
Where many a mud I fog,[127]
And the smoke curls gently, while cousin Ben
Keeps filling the pots again and again,
If the coves have stump’d their hog.[128]
The liquors around are diamond bright,
And the diddle[129] is best of all;
But I never in liquors took delight,
For liquors I think is all a bite,[130]
So for heavy wet I call.
The heavy wet in a pewter quart,
As brown as a badger’s hue,
More than Bristol milk[131] or gin,
Brandy or rum, I tipple in,
With my darling blowen[132] Sue.
Oh! grunting peck[133] in its eating
Is a richly soft and a savoury thing;
A Norfolk capon[134] is jolly grub
When you wash it down with strength of bub[135]
But dearer to me Sue’s kisses far,
Than grunting peck or other grub are,
And I never funks the lambskin men,[136]
When I sits with her in the boozing ken.
Her duds[137] are bob[138]—she’s a kinchin crack[139]
And I hopes as how she’ll never back;[140]
For she never lushes dog’s soup or lap,[141]
But she loves my cousin the bluffer’s[142] tap.
She’s wide awake, and her prating cheat[143]
For humming a cove was never beat;
But because she lately nimm’d[144] some tin,
They have sent her to lodge at the King’s Head Inn.[145]
From The Individual. November 15, 1836. Cambridge. W. H. Smith.
Generalizations have been made from which it appears that certain localities have peculiar productive qualities in the manufacture of criminals, thus London for sharpers, Brummagem for thieves, Paris for fly men (window thieves) Sheffield for pilchers of snyde (coiners and utterers.)
As to the ultimate destinations of these gentlemen one of themselves has put the various establishments in verse, thus recounting their merits:—
“Dartmoor is a tidy place,
Chatham is the terror of our race,
Portland is not quite so bad,
Broadmoor is for those stark mad,
Pentonville is the hill of London,
Borstal if you’re there you’re undone,
Portsmouth is a noted shop,
Brixton is a regular cop.”
Another equally good authority thus describes them:—
“Millbank for thick shins and graft at the pump,
Broadmoor for all laggs as go off their chump,
Brixton for good toke and cocoa with fat,
Dartmoor for bad grub but plenty of chat,
Portsmouth a blooming bad place for hard work.
Chatham on Sunday gives four ounces of pork,
Portland is the worst of the lot for to joke in,
For fetching a lagging there is no place like Woking.”
“Joe quickly his sand had sold, sir,
And Bess got a basket of rags;
Then up to St. Giles’s they rolled sir;
To every bunter Bess brags,
Then unto the gin shop they pike it,[146]
And Bess was admitted we hear;
For none of the crew dare but like it,
As Joey, her kiddy was there.”
* * * * *
The Sandman’s Wedding, a Cantata.
The Beggar’s Curse.
(By Thomas Decker, 1609.)
The Ruffin cly[147] the Nab of the Harmanbeck,[148]
If we maund Pannam,[149] Lap, or Ruff-Peck,
Of Poplars of Yarum,[150] he cuts bing to the Ruffmans,
Or else he with cruelty swears by the Lightmans,[151]
He’ll seize us, and put our stamps fast in the Harmans,[152]
The Ruffin cly the Ghost of the Harmanbeck
If we heave a Booth[153] we straight cly the Jerk[154]
If we niggle or mill but a poor Boozing-Ken,[155]
Or nip a poor Bung[156] with one single Win,
Or dup but the Gigger[157] of a Country-cove’s Ken,
Straight we’re to the Cuffin Queer[158] forced to bing;
And ’cause we are poor made to scour the Cramp-ring,[159]
From thence at the Chats we trine in the Lightmans,[160]
Plague take the Harmanbeck: Ruffin the Harmans.
Clear out—Look Sharp!
Song commonly sung by tramps and thieves at a general Rendezvous before they divide into parties, to stroll about the country.
Bing[161] out, bien[162] Morts,[163] and toure[164] and toure,
Bing out, bien Morts, and toure;
For all your Duds[165] are bing’d awast[166]
The bien Cove[167] hath the loure[168].
I met a Dell,[169] I viewed her well,
She was benship[170] to my watch;
So she and I did stall[171] and cloy,[172]
Whatever we could catch.
This Doxie Dell can cut bien whids,[173]
And drill well for a win;[174]
And prig and cloy so benshiply,
All the Deusea-Vile[175] within.
The Booth being raised,[176] we stept aside,
Thro’ mire, and frost and snow;
When they did seek then did we creep,
And plant in Ruffman’s Row.[177]
To strowling ken[178] the mort bings then,
To fetch loure for her cheats;
Duds and ruffpeck,[179] maugre Harmanbeck,[180]
We won by Maunder’s feats.
You maunders all, stow what you stall,[181]
To Rum Coves what so quire;[182]
And Bucksom Dell, that snilches well,[183]
And takes loure for her hire.
A Jybe well jerked, tick Rome-confeck,[184]
For back by Glimmer to maund,[185]
To mill each ken,[186] let Cove bing then,[187]
Thro’ Ruffmans, Jague or Laund[188].
Till Cramprings quire, tip Cove his Hire,[189]
And Quire-ken[190] do them catch;
Old Ruffler Mill[191] the Quire-cuffin,[192]
So quire to bien Cove’s watch.
Booze, Mort, and Ken, been Darkman’s then.[193]
The poor Cove’s bing’d awast;
On Chats to trine,[194] by Rum-Coves Dine,[195]
For his long Lib at last.[196]
Bing out bien morts, and toure and toure,
Bing out of the Romevile fine;[197]
Now toure the cove that cly’d your duds,
Upon the chats to trine.
As this song is so old some of the expressions are obsolete, and their explanations are somewhat conjectural. The first verse translated reads as follows:—
Go out, good girls, and look and see,
Go out, good girls, and see;
For all your clothes are carried away,
And the good man has the money.
This was first printed in “The English Rogue: Described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a Witty Extravagant. Being a Compleat History of the most Eminent Cheats of both sexes. London, Printed for Henry Marsh, at the Princes Arms in Chancery Lane, 1665.”
This curious work was reprinted by Chatto and Windus in 1874.
Frisky Moll’s Song.
From Priggs that snabble the Prancers strong,[198]
To you of the Peter Lay,[199]
I pray now listen awhile to my song,
How my Bowman[200] he kick’d away.
He broke through all the Rubbs[201] in the whit,
And chiv’d his Darbies[202] in twain;
But filing of a Rumbo-Ken,
My Bowman is snabbled again.
I, Frisky Moll, with my Rum Cull,[203]
Would suck in a Boozing Ken;
But e’er for the Scran[204] he had tipt the Cole,
The Harman he came in.
A Famble, a Tattle, and two Pops,[205]
Had my Bowman when he was ta’en;
But had we not booz’d in the Diddle shops,[206]
He’d still been in Drury Lane.
From “Harlequin Sheppard.” Acted at Drury Lane Theatre, 1724.
The Canter’s Serenade.
(Sung early in the morning, at the Barn doors where their Doxies have reposed during the night.)
Ye Morts and ye Dells[207]
Come out of your Cells,
And charm all the Palliards[208] about ye;
Here birds of all feathers,
Through deep roads and all weathers,
Are gathered together to toute[209] ye.
With faces of Wallnut,
And Bladder and Smallgut,
We’re come scraping and singing to rouse ye;
Rise, shake off your straw,
And prepare you each maw
To kiss, eat, and drink till you’re bouzy.
Ode to the King of the Mendicants.
Cast your nabs[210] and cares away,
This is Maunders holiday:[211]
In the world look out and see,
Where so blest a King as he!
At the crowning of our King,
Thus we ever dance and sing;
Where’s the nation lives so free,
And so merrily as we?
Be it peace, or be it war,
Here at liberty we are:
Hang all Harmenbecks[212] we cry,
We the Cuffin Queres[213] defy.
We enjoy our ease and rest,
To the fields we are not pressed
And when taxes are increased
We are not a penny ’sessed.
Nor will any go to law,
With a Maunder for a straw,
All which happiness, he brags,
Is only owing to his rags.
From The History of Bampfylde-Moore Carew, King of the Mendicants. London, 1749.
Oath of the Canting Crew.
I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be
True to this fraternity;
That I will in all obey
Rule and order of the lay.
Never blow the gab, or squeak;
Never snitch to bum or beak;
But religiously maintain
Authority of those who reign
Over Stop Hole Abbey Green,
Be their tawny king, or queen.
In their cause alone will fight;
Think what they think, wrong or right;
Serve them truly, and no other,
And be faithful to my brother;
Suffer none, from far or near,
With their rights to interfere;
No strange Abram, ruffler crack,
Hooker of another pack,
Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer,[214]
Irish toyle, or other wanderer;
No dimber damber,[215] angler, dancer,
Prig of cackler,[216] prig of prancer;[217]
No swigman, swaddler, clapper-dudgeon;
Cadge-gloak,[218] curtal, or curmudgeon;
No whip-jack, palliard, patrico;
No jarkman, be he high or low;
No dummerar, or romany;
No member of “the Family;”
No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer,
Nor any other, will I suffer;
But stall-off[219] now and for ever,
All outliers whatsoever;
And as I keep to the fore-gone,
So may help me Salamon!
From The Life of Bampfylde-Moore Carew.
The Life and Death of the Darkman’s Budge,[220].
The Budge it is a delicate trade,
And a delicate trade of fame,
For when that we have bit the blow,
We carry away the game.
But if the cully naps us,
And the lurries from us takes;
O, then he rubbs us to the whit,[221]
Tho’ we’re hardly worth two makes.[222]
And when that we come to the whit,
Our darbies to behold;
We’re forced to do penance there,
And booze the water cold.
But when we come out again,
And the merry cull we meet,
We’ll surely file him of his cole,[223]
As he pikes along the street.
And when that we have filed him,
Tho’t be but half a job;
Then ev’ry man to the boozing ken,
To fence his merry hog;[224]
But if the cully naps us,
For want of care or wit,
Tho’ he cannot take away our cole,
He rubbs us to the whit.
And when we come unto the whit,
For garnish[225] they do cry;
We promise our lusty comrogues
They shall have it by and bye;
Then ev’ry man, with his Mort[226] in his hand,
Is forc’d to kiss and part;
And after, is divorced away,
To the nubbing-cheat[227] in a cart.
And we come to the Nubbing-cheat,
For running on the budge;
There stands Jack Ketch, that sneaking wretch,
Who owes us all a grudge:
For when that he hath nubbed us,
And our friends tip him no cole,
He takes his chive,[228] and cuts us down,
And tips us into the hole.
But if we have a friend stand by,
Six and eightpence for to pay,
Then they may have our bodies back,
And carry us quite away:
For at St. Giles’s or St. Martin’s,
A burying place is still;
And there’s an end of a Darkman’s Budge,
And the whoreson hath his will.
The Game of High Toby.
Now Oliver[229] puts his black nightcap on,
And every star its glim[230] is hiding,
And forth to the heath is the scampsman[231] gone,
His matchless cherry-black[232] prancer riding;
Merrily over the common he flies,
Fast and free as the rush of rocket,
His crape-covered vizard drawn over his eyes,
His tol[233] by his side, and his pops[234] in his pocket.
Chorus.
Then who can name
So merry a game,
As the game of all games—high toby?[235]
The traveller hears him, away! away!
Over the wide wide heath he scurries;
He heeds not the thunderbolt summons to stay,
But ever the faster and faster he hurries.
But what daisy-cutter can match that black tit?
He is caught—he must “stand and deliver;”
Then out with the dummy,[236] and off with the bit,[237]
Oh! the game of high toby for ever!
Chorus.
Then who can name
So merry a game,
As the game of all games—high toby?
Believe me, there is not a game, my brave boys,
To compare with the game of high toby;
No rapture can equal the tobyman’s joys,
To blue devils, blue plumbs[238] give the go by;
And what if, at length, boys, he come to the crap![239]
Even rack punch has some bitter in it,
For the mare-with-three-legs,[240] boys, I care not a rap,
’Twill be over in less than a minute!
Grand Chorus.
Then hip, hurrah!
Fling care away!
Hurrah for the game of high toby.
From Rookwood, by W. Harrison Ainsworth. London.
The Double Cross.
Though all of us have heard of crost fights,
And certain gains, by certain lost fights;
I rather fancies that it’s news,
How in a mill, both men should lose;
For vere the odds are thus made even,
It plays the dickens with the steven;[241]
Besides, against all rule they’re sinning,
Vere neither has no chance of vinning.
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
Two milling coves, each vide avake,
Vere backed to fight for heavy stake;
But in the mean time, so it vos,
Both kids agreed to play a cross;
Bold came each buffer[242] to the scratch,
To make it look a tightish match;
They peeled[243] in style, and bets were making,
’Tvos six to four, but few were taking.
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
Quite cautiously the mill began,
For neither knew the other’s plan;
Each cull[244] completely in the dark,
Of vot might be his neighbour’s mark;
Resolved his fibbing[245] not to mind,
Nor yet to pay him back in kind;
So on each other kept they tout,[246]
And sparred a bit, and dodged about.
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
Vith mawleys[247] raised, Tom bent his back,
As if to plant a heavy thwack;
Vile Jem, with neat left-handed stopper,
Straight threatened Tommy with a topper;
’Tis all my eye! no claret flows,
No facers sound—no smashing blows,
Five minutes pass, yet not a hit,
How can it end, pals?—vait a bit.
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
Each cove vos teazed with double duty,
To please his backers, yet play booty,[248]
Ven, luckily for Jem, a teller
Vos planted right upon his smeller;
Down dropped he, stunned; ven time was called,
Seconds in vain the seconds bawled;
The mill is o’er, the crosser crost,
The loser’s won, the vinner’s lost!
Ri, tol, lol, &c.
From Rookwood, by W. Harrison Ainsworth, London.
A Flash Anecdote.
I buzzed a bloak and a shakester of a reader and a skin. My jomer stalled. A cross cove, who had his regulars, called out “cop bung,” so as a pig was marking, I speeled to the crib, where I found Jim had been pulling down sawney for grub. He cracked a case last night and fenced the swag. He told me as Bill had flimped a yack and pinched a swell of a fawney, he sent the yack to church and got three finnups and a cooter for the fawney.
Translation.
I picked the pockets of a gentleman and lady of a pocket book and a purse. My fancy girl screened me from observation. A fellow thief, who shared my plunder, called out to me to hand over the stolen property, so as someone was observing my actions, I ran off to the house, where Jim had some bacon he had stolen from a shop door. He broke into a house last night, and had sold the stolen property. He told me that Bill had hustled a man and stolen his watch, and had also robbed a gentleman of a ring. He had sent the watch to have its works removed, and had got three five pound notes and a sovereign for the ring.
From Poverty, Mendicity and Crime, 1839.
The Leary Man.
Of ups and downs I’ve felt the shocks
Since days of bats and shuttlecocks,
And alicumpaine and Albert-rocks,
When I the world began;
And for these games I often sigh
Both marmoney and spanish-fly,
And flying kites too, in the sky,
For which I’ve often ran.
But by what I’ve seen, and where I’ve been,
I’ve always found it so.
That if you wish to learn to live,
Too much you cannot know.
For you must now be wide-awake,
If a living you would make,
So I’ll advise what course to take
To be a Leary Man.
Go first to costermongery
To every fakement get a-fly
And pick up all their slangery,
But let this be your plan;
Put up with no Kieboshery
But look well after poshery,
And cut teetotal sloshery.
And get drunk when you can.
And when you go to spree about,
Let it always be your pride
To have a white tile on your nob,
And bulldog by your side.
Your fogle you must flashly tie
Each word must patter flashery,
And hit cove’s head to smashery,
To be a Leary Man.
To Covent Garden or Billingsgate
You of a morn must not be late,
But your donkey drive at a slashing rate,
And first be if you can.
From short pipe you must your bacca blow,
And if your donkey will not go,
To lick him you must not be slow,
But well his hide must tan.
The fakement conn’d by knowing rooks
Must be well known to you,
And if you come to fibbery,
You must mug one or two.
Then go to St. Giles’s rookery,
And live up some strange nookery,
Of no use domestic cookery,
To be a Leary Man.
Then go to pigeon fancery
And know each breed by quiz of eye,
Bald-heads from skin ’ems by their fly,
Go wrong you never can.
All fighting coves too you must know,
Ben Caunt as well as Bendigo,
And to each mill be sure to go,
And be one of the van.
Things that are found before they’re lost,
Be always first to find.
Restore dogs for a pound or two
You’ll do a thing that’s kind.
And you must sport a blue billy,
Or a yellow wipe tied loosily
Round your scrag for bloaks to see
That you’re a Leary Man.
At knock’emsdown and tiddlywink,
To be a sharp you must not shrink,
But be a brick and sport your chink
To win must be your plan.
And set-toos and cock-fighting
Are things you must take delight in,
And always try to be right in,
And every kidment scan.
And bullying and chaffing too,
To you should be well known,
Your nob be used to bruisery,
And hard as any stone.
Put the kiebosh on the dibbery,
Know a Joey from a tibbery,
And now and then have a black eye,
To be a Leary Man.
To fairs and races go must you,
And get in rows and fights a few,
And stopping out all night its’ true,
Must often be your plan.
And as through the world you budgery,
Get well awake to fudgery,
And rub off every grudgery,
And do the best you can.
But mummery and slummery
You must keep in your mind,
For every day, mind what I say,
Fresh fakements you will find.
But stick to this while you can crawl,
To stand ’till you’re obliged to fall,
And when you’re wide awake to all
You’ll be a Leary Man.
From The Vulgar Tongue, by Ducange Anglicus. London, Bernard Quaritch, 1857.
The Song of the Young Prig.
My Mother she dwelt in Dyot’s Isle,[249]
One of the Canting Crew,[250] sirs;
And if you’d know my father’s style,
He was the Lord Knows-who, sirs!
I first held horses in the street,
But being found defaulter,
Turned rumbler’s flunky[251] for my meat,
So was brought up to the halter.
Frisk the cly[252], and fork the rag[253],
Draw the fogles plummy[254],
Speak to the tattler[255], bag the swag[256],
And finely hunt the dummy[257].
My name they say is Young Birdlime,
My fingers are fish-hooks sirs;
And I my reading learnt-betime,
From studying pocket-books[258], sirs.
I have a sweet eye for a plant[259],
And graceful as I amble,
Finedraw a coat-tail sure I can’t,
So kiddy is my famble[260].
Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.,
A night bird,[261] oft I’m in the cage[262],
But my rum chants ne’er fail, sirs,
The dubsman’s[263] senses to engage,
While I tip him leg-bail[264], sirs.
There’s not, for picking, to be had,
A lad so light and larky[265],
The cleanest angler on the pad[266],
In daylight or the darkey[267].
Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.,
And though I don’t work capital[268],
And do not weigh my weight[269], sirs,
Who knows but that in time I shall,
For there’s no queering fate, sirs.
If I’m not lagged to Virgin-nee[270],
I may a Tyburn show be[271],
Perhaps a tip-top cracksman[272] be
Or go on the high toby[273].
Chorus. Frisk the cly, etc.,
From The Life and Times of James Catnach, by Charles Hindley. London, Reeves and Turner. 1878.
The Death of Socrates.
By the Rev. Robt. Burrowes, Dean of St. Finbar’s Cathedral, Cork.
The night before Larry was stretch’d,
The boys they all paid him a visit;
A bit in their sacks, too, they fetch’d—
They sweated their duds[274] till they riz it;
For Larry was always the lad,
When a friend was condemn’d to the squeezer[275],
But he’d pawn all the togs that he had,
Just to help the poor boy to a sneezer[276],
And moisten his gob ’fore he died.
“’Pon my conscience, dear Larry,” says I,
“I’m sorry to see you in trouble,
And your life’s cheerful noggin run dry,
And yourself going off like its bubble!”
“Hould your tongue in that matter,” says he;
“For the neckcloth I don’t care a button,
And by this time to-morrow you’ll see
Your Larry will be dead as mutton:
All for what? ’kase his courage was good!”
The boys they came crowding in fast;
They drew their stools close round about him,
Six glims[277] round his coffin they placed—
He couldn’t be well waked without ’em.
I ax’d if he was fit to die,
Without having duly repented?
Says Larry, “That’s all in my eye,
And all by the clargy invented,
To make a fat bit for themselves.”
Then the cards being call’d for, they play’d,
Till Larry found one of them cheated;
Quick he made a hard rap at his head—
The lad being easily heated,
“So ye chates me bekase I’m in grief!
O! is that, by the Holy, the rason?
Soon I’ll give you to know, you d—d thief!
That you’re cracking your jokes out of sason,
And scuttle your nob[278] with my fist.”
Then in came the priest with his book,
He spoke him so smooth and so civil;
Larry tipp’d him a Kilmainham look,
And pitch’d his big wig to the divil.
Then raising a little his head,
To get a sweet drop of the bottle,
And pitiful sighing he said,
“O! the hemp will be soon round my throttle[279],
And choke my poor windpipe to death!”
So mournful these last words he spoke,
We all vented our tears in a shower;
For my part, I thought my heart broke
To see him cut down like a flower!
On his travels we watch’d him next day,
O, the hangman I thought I could kill him!
Not one word did our poor Larry say,
Nor changed till he came to “King William:”
Och, my dear! then his colour turn’d white.
When he came to the nubbing cheat,
He was tuck’d up so neat and so pretty;
The rumbler jugg’d off from his feet,
And he died with his face to the city.
He kick’d too, but that was all pride,
For soon you might see ’twas all over;
And as soon as the noose was untied,
Then at darkey we waked him in clover,
And sent him to take a ground-sweat.
A French translation of this poem was written by the Rev. Francis Mahony, see “The Works of Father Prout.” London, George Routledge & Sons, 1881.
’Arry at a Political Pic-nic.
Dear Charlie,
’Ow are yer, my ribstone? Seems scrumptious to write the old name.
I ’ave quite lost the run of you lately. Bin playing some dark little game?
I’m keeping mine hup as per usual, fust in the pick of the fun,
For wherever there’s larks on the tappy[280] there’s ’Arry as sure as a gun.
The latest new lay’s Demonstrations. You’ve heard on ’em, Charlie, no doubt,
For they’re at ’em all over the shop. I’ave ’ad a rare bustle about.
All my Saturday arfs are devoted to Politics. Fancy, old chump,
Me doing the sawdusty reglar,[281] and follering swells on the stump!
But, bless yer, my bloater, it isn’t all chin-music[282] votes, and “’Ear! ’ear!”
Or they wouldn’t catch me on the ready, or nail me for ninepence. No fear!
Percessions I’ve got a bit tired of, hoof-padding,[283] and scrouging’s dry rot,
But Political Picnics mean sugar to them as is fly to wot’s wot.
Went to one on ’em yesterday, Charlie; a reglar old up and down lark.
The Pallis free gratis, mixed up with a old country fair in a park,
And Rosherville Gardens chucked in, with a dash of the Bean Feast will do,
To give you some little idear of our day with Sir Jinks Bottleblue.
Make much of us, Charlie? Lor bless you, we might ha’ bin blooming Chinese
A-doing the rounds at the ’Ealthries. ’Twas regular go as you please.
Lawn-tennis, quoits, cricket, and dancing for them as must be on the shove,
But I preferred pecking[284] and prowling, and spotting the mugs making love.
Don’t ketch me a-slinging my legs about arter a beast of a ball
At ninety degrees in the shade or so, Charlie, old chap, not at all.
Athletics ’aint ’ardly my form, and a cutaway coat and tight bags
Are the species of togs for yours truly, and lick your loose “flannels” to rags.
So I let them as liked do a swelter; I sorntered about on the snap.
Rum game this yer Politics, Charlie, seems arf talkee-talkee and trap.
Jest fancy old Bluebottle letting “the multitood” pic-nic and lark,
And make Battersea Park of his pleasure-grounds, Bathelmy Fair of his park!
“To show his true love for the People!” sez one vote-of-thanking tall-talker,
And wosn’t it rude of a bloke as wos munching a bun to cry “Walker!”?
I’m Tory right down to my boots, at a price, and I bellered “’Ear, ’ear!”
But they don’t cop yours truly with chaff none the more, my dear Charlie, no fear!
Old Bottleblue tipped me his flipper, and ’oped I’d “refreshed,” and all that.
“Wy rather,” sez I, “wot do you think?” at which he stared nto his ’at,
And went a bit red in the gills. Must ha’ thought me a muggins, old man,
To ask sech a question of ’Arry—as though grubbing short was his plan.
I went the rounds proper, I tell yer; ’twas like the free run of a Bar,
And Politics wants lots o’ wetting. Don’t ketch me perched up on a car,
Or ’olding a flag-pole no more. No, percessions, dear boy, ain’t my fad,
But Political Pic-nics with fireworks, and plenty of swiz ain’t ’arf bad.
The palaver was sawdust and treacle. Old Bottleblue buzzed for a bit,
And a sniffy young Wiscount in barnacles landed wot ’e thought a ’it;
Said old Gladstone wos like Simpson’s weapon, a bit of a hass and all jor,
When a noisy young Rad in a wideawake wanted to give him wot for!
“Yah! boo! Turn ’im hout!” sings yours truly, a-thinkin’ the fun was at ’and,
But, bless yer! ’twas only a sputter. I can’t say the meeting looked grand.
Five thousand they reckoned us, Charlie, but if so I guess the odd three
Were a-spooning about in the halleys, or lappin’ up buns and Bohea.
The band and the ’opping wos prime though, and ’Arry in course wos all there.
I ’ad several turns with a snappy young party with stror coloured ’air.
Her name she hinformed me wos Polly, and wen, in my ’appiest style,
I sez, “Polly is nicer than Politics!” didn’t she colour and smile?
We got back jest in time for the Fireworks, a proper flare-up, and no kid,
Which finished that day’s Demonstration, an’ must ’ave cost many a quid.[285]
Wot fireworks and park-feeds do Demonstrate, Charlie, I’m blest if I see,
And I’m blowed if I care a brass button, so long as I get a cheap spree.
The patter’s all bow-wow, of course, but it goes with the buns and the beer.
If it pleases the Big-wigs to spout, wy it don’t cost hus nothink to cheer.
Though they ain’t got the ’ang of it, Charlie, the toffs ain’t,—no go and no spice!
Wy, I’d back Barney Crump at our Sing-song to lick ’em two times out o’ twice!
Still I’m all for the Lords and their lot, Charlie. Rads are my ’orror, you know.
Change R into C and you’ve got ’em, and ’Arry ’ates anythink low.
So if Demonstrations means skylarks, and lotion as much as you’ll carry,
These “busts of spontanyous opinion” may reckon all round upon ’Arry.
Punch. October 11, 1884.
Life in Gaol.
Till seven we walk around the yard,
There is a man all you to guard,
If you put your hand out so,
Untoe the guv’nor you must go;
Eight o’clock is our breakfast hour,
Those wittles they do soon devour;
Oh! dear me, how they eat and stuff,
Lave off with less than half enough.
Nine o’clock you mount the mill,
That you mayn’t cramp from settin’ still,
If that be ever so against your will,
You must mount on the traädin’ mill.
There is a turnkey that you’ll find,
He is a raskill most unkind.
To rob poor prisoners he is that man,
To chaäte poor prisoners where he can,
At eleven o’clock we march upstairs
To hear the parson read the prayers.
Then we are locked into a pen—
It’s almost like a lion’s den.
There’s iron bars big round as your thigh
To make you of a prison shy.
At twelve o’clock the turnkey come;
The locks and bolts sound like a drum,
If you be ever so full of game,
The traädin’ mill it will you tame.
At one you mount the mill again,
That is labour all in vain.
If that be ever so wrong or right,
You must traäde till six at night.
Thursdays we have a jubal fraä
Wi’ bread and cheese for all the day.
I’ll tell you raälly, without consate,
For a hungry pig ’tis a charmin’ bait.
At six you’re locked into your cell,
There until the mornin’ dwell;
There is a bed o’ straw all to lay on,
There’s Hobson’s choice, there’s that or none.
From The Chequers, by James Runciman.
The Twenty Craftsmen.
Described by the notorious thief-taker Jonathan Wild.
Good people, give ear, whilst a story I tell,
Of twenty black tradesmen who were brought up in hell,
On purpose poor people to rob of their due;
There’s none shall be nooz’d, if you find but one true.
The first was a Coiner, that stampt in a mould;
The second a Voucher to put off his gold.
Tour you well; hark you well[286], see where they’re rubb’d,
Up to the nubbing cheat[287], where they are nubb’d.
The third was a Padder[288], that fell to decay,
Who used for to plunder upon the Highway;
The fourth was a Mill-Ken[289], to crack up a door,
He’d venture to rob both the rich and the poor,
The fifth was a Glazier[290], who when he creeps in,
To pinch all the lurry[291] he thinks it no sin,
Tour you well, etc.
The sixth is a File-cly[292], that not one cully[293] spares,
The seventh a Budge[294] to track softly up stairs;
The eighth is a Bulk[295], that can bulk any hick[296],
If the master be nabbed, then the Bulk he is sick,
The ninth is an Angler[297], to lift up a grate,
If he sees but the lurry his hooks he will bait.
Tour you well, etc.
The tenth is a Shoplift, that carries a Bob,
When he ranges the city, the shops for to rob.
The eleventh a Bubber[298], much used of late;
Who goes to the ale house, and steals all their plate.
The twelfth is a Beautrap[299], if a Cull[300] he does meet,
He nips all his Cole[301], and turns him into the street.
Tour you well, etc.,
The thirteenth a Famble, false rings for to sell,
When a Mob[302] he has bit his Cole he will tell;
The fourteenth a Gamester, if he sees the Cull sweet[303],
He presently drops down a Cog[304] in the street;
The fifteenth, a Prancer, whose courage is small,
If they catch him Horse-coursing he’s noozed once for all.
Tour you well, etc.
The sixteenth, a Sheep-napper, whose trade is so deep,
If he’s caught in the corn he’s marked for a sheep[305];
The seventeenth a Dunaker[306], that stoutly makes vows,
To go in the country and steal all the cows;
The eighteenth a Kid-napper[307], who spirits young men,
Tho’ he tips them the pike, they oft nap him again.
Tour you well, etc.
The nineteenth’s a Priggar of Cacklers[308], who harms,
The poor Country Higlers, and plunders the Farms;
He steals all their poultry and thinks it no sin,
When into the Henroost, in the night, he gets in,
The twentieth’s a Thief-catcher, so we him call,
Who if he be nabb’d will be made pay for all.
Tour you well, etc.
There’s many more Craftsmen[309] whom here I could name,
Who use such like Trades, abandon’d of shame;
To the number of more than threescore on the whole,
Who endanger their body, and hazard their soul;
And yet, tho’ good workmen, are seldom made free,
Till they ride in a cart, and be noozed on a tree.
Tour you well, hark you well, see where they’re rubb’d,
Up to the nubbing-cheat, where they are nubb’d.
This is taken from A Pedlar’s Pack of Ballads and Songs collected by W. H. Logan, (Edinburgh: William Paterson, 1869) which work contains some dozen cant songs, of which the best have been quoted. The others are so “Flash” in language that they could only be clearly interpreted by a regular Patter Cove.
Retoure my dear Dell.
Each Darkmans[310] I pass in an old shady grove,
And live not the Lightmans[311], I toute[312] not my love,
I surtoute every walk, which we used to pass,
And couch me down weeping and kiss the cold grass:
I cry out on my Mort[313] to pity my pain,
And all our vagaries remember again.
Didst thou know, my dear Doxy, but half of the smart
Which has seized on my panter since thou didst depart;
Didst thou hear but my sighs, my complaining and groans,
Thou’dst surely retoure[314] and pity my moans;
Thou’dst give me new pleasure for all my past pain,
And I should rejoice in thy glaziers[315] again.
But, alas! ’tis my fear that the false Patri-coe[316]
Is reaping those transports are only my due:
Retoure my dear Doxy, oh, once more retoure,
And I’ll do all to please thee that lies in my pow’r;
Then be kind, my dear Dell, and pity my pain,
And let me once more toute thy glaziers again.
On Redshanks and Tibs[317] thou shalt every day dine,
And if it should e’er be my hard fate to trine[318]
I never will whiddle, I never will squeek[319],
Nor to save my Colquarron[320] endanger thy neck.
Then once more, my Doxy, be kind and retoure,
And thou shalt want nothing that lies in my pow’r.
The vein of sentiment that pervades this lament is almost too fine to be genuine in such a production.
The Pickpockets’ Chaunt.
Translated from an “Argot” Song of Maitre Vidocq,
by Dr. William Maginn.
As from ken to ken I was going,
Doing a bit on the prigging lay[321],
Who should I meet but a jolly blowen[322],
Tol lol, lol lol, tol dirol lay;
Who should I meet but a jolly blowen,
Who was fly to the time of day.
Who should I meet but a jolly blowen,
Who was fly to the time of day.
I pattered in flash[323], like a covey knowing,
Tol lol, &c.
“Ay, bub or grubby[324], I say?”
I pattered in flash like a covey knowing,
“Ay, bub or grubby, I say?”
“Lots of gatter”[325] says she, is flowing,
Tol lol, &c.
Lend me a lift in the family way[326].
Lots of gatter, says she, is flowing,
Lend me a lift in the family way.
You may have a crib[327] to stow in,
Tol lol, &c.
Welcome, my pal, as the flowers in May.
You may have a crib to stow in,
Welcome, my pal, as the flowers in May.
To her ken at once I go in,
Tol lol, &c.
Where in a corner out of the way,
To her ken at once I go in,
Where in a corner out of the way,
With his smeller[328] a trumpet blowing,
Tol lol, &c.
A regular swell cove lushy lay,
With his smeller a trumpet blowing,
A regular swell cove lushy lay,
To his dies[329] my hooks[330] I throw in,
Tol lol, &c.
And collar his dragons[331] clear away.
To his dies my hooks I throw in,
And collar his dragons clear away.
Then his ticker I set a going,
Tol lol, &c.
And his onions,[332] chain and key,
Then his ticker I set a going,
With his onions, chain and key;
Next slipt off his bottom clo’ing,
Tol lol, &c.
And his ginger head topper gay.
Next slipt off his bottom clo’ing,
And his ginger head topper gay.
Then his other toggery stowing,
Tol lol, &c.
All with the swag I sneak away,
Then his other-toggery stowing,
All with the swag I sneak away.
Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen,
Tol lol, &c.
Or be grabbed by the beaks we may,
Tramp it, tramp it, my jolly blowen,
Or be grabbed by the beaks we may.
And we shall caper a-heel and toeing,
Tol lol, &c.
A Newgate hornpipe some fine day.
And we shall caper a-heel and toeing,
A Newgate hornpipe some fine day,
With the mots their ogles throwing,
Tol lol, &c.
And Old Cotton[333] humming his pray[334],
With the mots their ogles throwing,
And Old Cotton humming his pray,
And the fogle hunters[335] doing,
Tol lol, &c.
Their morning fake in the prigging lay[336].
Many of the other words are also flash, but are so generally understood that it is quite unnecessary to translate them.
Oh, Kittens! in our hours of ease
Uncertain toys, and full of fleas;
When pain and anguish hang o’er men,
We turn you into sausage then.
The following handbill is worthy of a place in this collection; the Slang Dictionary will explain its meaning. Its words are, however, fully understood by many “downy” customers;
Once Try You’ll Come Again
TO
Harris, The Slap-Up-Tog
and out and out
Kicksies Builder.
Well known throughout all England.
Mr. H. nabs the chance of putting his customers awake that he has just made his escape from India, not forgetting to clap his mawleys upon some of the right sort of stuff, when on his return home he was stunned to find one of the top Manufacturers of Manchester had cut his lucky, and stepped off to the Swan Stream, leaving behind him a valuable stock of Moleskins, Cords, Velveteens, Box Cloths, Plushes, Doe Skins, Pilots, &c., and having some ready in his kick—grabbed the chance—stepped home with the swag—and is now safely landed at his crib. He can turn out Toggery very slap at the following low prices for
Ready Gilt—Tick being No Go.
Upper Benjamins, built on a downy plan, a monarch to half a finnuff. Fishing or Shooting Togs, or Slap up Velveteen Togs, lined with the same, cut slap, 1 pound, 1 quarter and a peg. A Fancy Sleeve Blue Plush or Pilot ditto, made very saucy, a couter. Pair of Kerseymere or Doeskin Kicksies, built very slap with the artful dodge, a canary. Pair of Bath or Worsted Cords, cut to drop down on the trotters, a quid. Pair of out and out cords, built very serious, 9 bob and a kick. Pair of stout Broad Cords, built in the Melton Mowbray style, half a sov. Pair of Moleskins, built hanky spanky, with double fakement down the sides and artful buttons at the bottom, half a monarch.
Mud Pipes, Knee Caps & Trotter Cases built very low.
A decent allowance made to Seedy Swells, Tea Kettle
Purgers, Head Robbers, and Flunkeys out of Collar.
N.B.—Gentlemen finding their own Broady can be accommodated.
——:o:——
The distinctions between Slang and Cant are well defined by Hotten. “Cant,” he says, “is old, whilst Slang is always modern and changing. To illustrate the difference: a thief in Cant language would term a horse a Prancer or Prad; while in Slang a man of fashion would speak of it as a Bit of Blood, a Spanker, or a neat tit.”
Cant was formed for the purpose of secrecy in roguery, Slang is commonly indulged in from a desire to appear familiar with the life, gaiety, town humour, and street jokes of the day. Cant and Slang are often used as synonyms, which is erroneous, they are distinct terms, and should be kept so.
Then there is what is commonly known as “Daily Telegraphese,” or the “high falutin” style. This arose from the invincible objection an inferior class of journalists had to writing of a spade as a spade, it must be called an “agricultural implement.” Examples of this may be found any day in the leaders of the Daily Telegraph, (London) a journal which whilst owned by Jews is especially conspicuous for its cant about Christianity and the Established Church. The parade of irrelevant learning, the mythological allusions dug up from the almost inaccessible depths of Lemprière, and the Latin verses cheaply filched from Dictionaries of Quotations, can only impose on imperfectly educated readers, to persons of any literary culture they are simply nauseating.
On [page 251] Jerry Juniper’s Chaunt (“Nix my dolly pals”) was given, it is the somewhat abbreviated version which is commonly sung, the full text, with a glossary, will be found in Ainsworth’s entertaining novel Rookwood.
This work contains other cant songs, and in his Preface Mr. Ainsworth makes the following remarks upon them:—
“As I have casually alluded to the flash song of Jerry Juniper, I may be allowed to make a few observations upon this branch of versification. It is somewhat curious with a dialect so racy, idiomatic, and plastic as our own cant, that its metrical capabilities should have been so little essayed. The French have numerous chansons d’argot, ranging from the time of Charles Bourdigné and Villon down to that of Vidocq and Victor Hugo, the last of whom has enlivened the horrors of his “Dernier Jour d’un Condamné” by a festive song of this class. The Spaniards possess a large collection of Romances de Germania, by various authors, amongst whom Quevedo holds a distinguished place. We on the contrary, have scarcely any slang songs of merit. This barreness is not attributable to the poverty of the soil, but to the want of due cultivation. Materials are at hand in abundance, but there have been few operators. Dekker, Beaumont and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson, have all dealt largely in this jargon, but not lyrically; and one of the earliest and best specimens of a canting-song occurs in Brome’s ‘Jovial Crew;’ and in the ‘Adventures of Bamfylde Moore Carew’ there is a solitary ode addressed by the mendicant fraternity to their newly-elected monarch; but it has little humour, and can scarcely be called a genuine canting-song. This ode brings us down to our own time; to the effusions of the illustrious Pierce Egan; to Tom Moore’s Flights of ‘Fancy;’ to John Jackson’s famous chant, ‘On the High Toby Spice flash the Muzzle,’ cited by Lord Byron in a note to ‘Don Juan;’ and to the glorious Irish ballad, worth them all put together, entitled ‘The Night before Larry was stretched.’ This is attributed to the late Dean Burrowes, of Cork. It is worthy of note, that almost all modern aspirants to the graces of the Musa Pedestris are Irishmen. Of all rhymesters of the ‘Road,’ however, Dean Burrowes is, as yet, most fully entitled to the laurel. Larry is quite ‘the potato!’
“I venture to affirm that I have done something more than has been accomplished by my predecessors, or contemporaries, with the significant language under consideration. I have written a purely flash song; of which the great and peculiar merit consists in its being utterly incomprehensible to the uninformed understanding, while its meaning must be perfectly clear and perspicuous to the practised patterer of Romany, or Pedler’s French. I have, moreover, been the first to introduce and naturalize amongst us a measure which, though common enough in the Argotic minstrelsy of France, has been hitherto utterly unknown to our pedestrian poetry. Some years after the song alluded to, better known under the title of ‘Nix my dolly, pals,—fake away!’ sprang into extraordinary popularity, being set to music by Rodwell, and chanted by glorious Paul Bedford and clever little Mrs. Keeley.”
Of course Mr. Ainsworth is in error in his claim to have written the first purely flash song, if indeed that is what he claims in his somewhat ambiguous sentence on the subject.
Detached Slang phrases may be found in the writings of most of our principal novelists—in Swift, Addison, Henry Fielding, Lord Lytton, Harrison Ainsworth, and Charles Dickens they abound. Professor Wilson and Dr. Maginn were also authorities on Slang.
Our older dramatists introduced Slang largely into their plays, notably Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Richard Brome, Thomas Middleton, Thomas Decker, the Duke of Buckingham, and more recently R. B. Sheridan and Moncrieff.
Our dear little friend Notes and Queries (London) contains many hundreds of references, explanations, and etymologies of Cant, Slang, and Flash, to which access can be readily obtained by reference to the indices of that ably conducted journal.
As a general remark on the songs which have been quoted, it should be borne in mind that prior to 1829 the punishment of death was inflicted for many offences which are now considered trivial, hence the frequent references they contain to hanging, and the gallows.
The Printer’s Epitaph.
- No more shall copy bad perplex my brain;
- No more shall type’s small face my eyeballs strain;
- No more the proof’s foul page[337] create me troubles,
- By errors, transpositions, outs, and doubles;[338]
- No more to overrun shall I begin;
- No more be driving out or taking in;
- The stubborn pressman’s frown I now may scoff;
- Raised, and corrected, finally worked off!
From Songs of the Press, and other Poems relative to the Art of Printing. Collected by C. H. Timperley. London: Fisher, Son & Co., 1845.
This work contains a large number of Poems and Parodies in Printer’s Slang, and has a good glossary of the technical terms and Slang used in printing offices.
——:o:——
Dictionaries and other Books
of Reference, on Cant and Slang.
Chronologically Arranged.
“A Caveat or Warening for Common Cursetors, vulgarly called Vagabones, set forth by Thomas Harman, Esquier, for the utilitie and proffyt of hys naturall Countrey, newly augumented and imprynted Anno Domini, 1567. Viewed, examined and allowed according unto the Queene Majesteyes injunctions. Imprinted at London, in Fletestret, at the signe of the Faulcon, by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be solde at his shoppe in Saynt Dunstones Churche Yard in the West.”—This is generally acknowledged to have been the first work of its kind, namely, an attempt to form a Cant Dictionary. It was first printed in black letter, there have been several later editions, and Hotten in his Slang Dictionary reprints from it what he terms the “Rogues’ Dictionary.” This vocabulary contains about 150 entries.
A reprint of Harman’s Caveat, with illustrations and interesting notes, was published by Reeves and Turner in 1871, in Mr. Charles Hindley’s Old Book Collector’s Miscellany.
The Fraternatye of Vacabondes, etc. Imprinted at London by John Awdeley, 1575.—Supposed to have been either written by Harman, or taken from his works.
The Bellman of London, by Thomas Decker.—Contains an account of the Canting Language. Black letter. London, 1608.
Lanthorne and Candle-light, or the Bellman’s Second Night’s Walke.—By Thomas Decker. London. 1608-9 This is a continuation of Decker’s former work, and contains the Canter’s Dictionary. There were numerous editions of Decker’s works on this subject.
“Villanies discovered by Lanthorne and Candle-light, and the helpe of a new crier called O Per se O. Being an addition to the Bel-man’s second night-walke; and laying open to the world of those abuses, which the Bel-man (because he went i’th darke) could not see. With Canting Songs, and other new conceits never before Printed.” By Thomas Decker. Newly corrected and enlarged. Small quarto. London, Aug Mathewes, 1620. Very rare, and curious as containing a complete description of the thieving and swindling population of London at that time, with a Cant Vocabulary and Slang songs. There were several Editions of this work.
The English Rogue, described in the Life of Meriton Latroon, a witty Extravagant. By Richard Head, 1671-80. This contains a list of Cant words, partly taken from Decker’s works.
Canting Academy; or, Villanies Discovered, wherein are shown the Mysterious and Villanous Practices of that Wicked Crew—Hectors, Trapanners, Gilts, etc., Also a Compleat Canting Dictionary. Compiled by Richard Head. 1674.
Ladies’ Dictionary, by Dunton, London, 1694.
Dictionary of the Canting Crew (Ancient and Modern), of Gypsies, Beggars, Thieves, &c. About 1700.
New Dictionary of the Terms (Ancient and Modern), of the Canting Crew in its several Tribes. By B. E. Gent. About 1710.—This work was the foundation of Bacchus and Venus, 1737, and of The Scoundrel’s Dictionary, 1754.
Regulator; or, a Discovery of the Thieves, Thief-takers, and Jocks, in and about London. With an account of all the Flash Words now in vogue amongst the thieves. By Charles Hitching, formerly City Marshall. London, 1718.
Complete History of the Lives and Robberies of the most notorious Highwaymen, Footpads, Shop-lifters, and Cheats in and about London and Westminster. By Captain A. Smith. London, 1719.—This contains “The Thieves New Canting Dictionary of the Words, Proverbs, &c., used by Thieves.”
The Thieves’ Grammar. By Captain Alexander Smith. About 1720.
The Thieves’ Dictionary, by the same author. 1724.
Canting Dictionary; comprehending all the Terms used by Gipsies, Beggars, Shoplifters, Highwaymen, Footpads, etc., with a collection of Songs in the Canting Dialect. A rechauffé of earlier works, 1725.
The Golden Cabinet of Secrets, with a Canting Dictionary, by Dr. Surman. In seven parts. London, about 1730.
The Triumph of Wit, or Ingenuity displayed, with the mystery and art of Canting, and Poems in the Canting Language, J. Clarke, 1735.
Etymological English Dictionary. By Nathaniel Bailey, 2 Vols., 1737. A collection of ancient and modern Cant words appears as an appendix to this edition.
Bacchus and Venus; or a select Collection of Songs in the Canting Dialect, etc., with a Dictionary explaining the Canting Terms. 1731. Founded on B. E. Gent’s New Dictionary.
The Life of an English Rogue. By Jeremy Sharp, 1740.—This contains a vocabulary of Gypsies’ Cant.
The History and Curious Adventures of Bampfylde-Moore Carew, King of the Mendicants. The first edition was published by R. Goodby, London, 1749.—This is a very common book, it should contain “A vocabulary of words used by the Scottish Gipsies,” “A few sentences in the Gipsy Language,” and “A Dictionary of the Cant Language generally used by mendicants.” These are incomplete and unsatisfactory.
History of the Lives and Actions of Jonathan Wild, Blueskin, and John Sheppard; together with a Canting Dictionary, by Jonathan Wild, 1750.
The Sportsman’s Dictionary. No date. Contains low sporting and pugilistic terms.
Scoundrel’s Dictionary, or an Explanation of the Cant words used by Thieves, House Breakers, Street Robbers, and Pickpockets about Town, 1754. A reprint of Bacchus and Venus, 1737.
The Triumph of Wit, or the Canting Dictionary. Dublin, about 1760.
The Discoveries of John Poulter. About 1770.—With an explanation of the “Language of Thieves, commonly called Cant.”
Dictionary of the English Language, by Dr. John Ash, 1775.—Containing low, vulgar, slang, and cant terms.
New and Complete Dictionary of the English Language. By John Ash, L.L.D., 1775.—Contains Cant words and phrases.
A View of Society in High and Low Life. By George Parker, 1781.
The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. By Francis Grose.—The first edition was published in 1785. This is the foundation of most of the Slang Dictionaries which have since been compiled. Although it is one of the most indecent books ever printed in the English language it must be admitted that it was, at the time it appeared, the most complete and important Dictionary of street language, based on personal enquiry, and acquaintance with the habits of those who used “Cant.”
The Whole Art of Thieving and Defrauding Discovered; to which is added an Explanation of most of the Cant terms in the Thieving Language. 1786.
Life’s Painter of Variegated Characters, with a Dictionary of Cant Language and Flash Songs. By George Parker, 1789.
New Dictionary of all the Cant and Flash Languages, both ancient and modern, used by Gipsies, Beggars, Swindlers, Footpads, Highwaymen, etc. By H. T. Potter, of Clay, Worcestershire. 1790.
Dictionary of all the Cant and Flash Languages, both ancient and modern. By Bailey. 1790.
New Dictionary of all the Cant and Flash Languages used by every class of Offenders, from a Lully Prigger to a High Tober Gloak. 179—
A Political Dictionary: Explaining the True Meaning of Words. By the late Charles Pigott, Esq. London: D. I. Eaton, 1795.—A satirical work directed against the Monarchy, the Aristocracy, and the Government of the day, in the form of a dictionary.
Blackguardiana; or, Dictionary of Rogues, Bawds, etc. By James Caulfield. 1795.
A coarse work, mainly founded on Grose’s “Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.”
Dictionary of all the Cant and Flash Languages. London. 1797.
Anecdotes of the English Language, chiefly regarding the Local dialect of London and Environs. By Samuel Pegge. 1803.
Dictionary of the Slang and Cant Languages, Ancient and Modern. By George Andrews. A sixpenny pamphlet. London, 1809.
A Dictionary of Buckish Slang, University Wit, and Pickpocket Eloquence. 1811.
Lexicon Balatronicum. A Dictionary of Buckish Slang, University Wit, and Pickpocket Eloquence, compiled originally by Captain Grose, and now considerably altered and enlarged by a member of the Whip Club, assisted by Hell-Fire Dick, etc. London: C. Chappel, Pall Mall, 1811. With a folding plate by G. Cruikshank, entitled “Bang up Dinner; or, Love and Lingo.” This is a very comprehensive slang dictionary, containing extracts from flash songs and dialogues. It is exceedingly coarse and indelicate, and is consequently very scarce.
Bang-up Dictionary; or, the Lounger and Sportsman’s Vade Mecum. A Glossary of the Language of the Whips. 1812.
London Guide and Stranger’s Safeguard, against Cheats, Swindlers, and Pickpockets, By William Perry. 1818. Contains a Dictionary of Slang Words.
Life of the Count de Vaux, written by Himself, to which is added a Canting Dictionary. 1819.
These memoirs were suppressed.
Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress: With a Preface, Notes, and Appendix. By One of the Fancy. London, Longmans & Co., 1819. There were several Editions. This has been ascribed to Thomas Moore, it contains a parody of one of his poems, most of the other pieces contained in this little volume are descriptive of prize fights, and abound in slang; the burlesque preface and footnotes, are interesting, learned, and explanatory.
There is also a translation from the Fifth Book of Virgil’s Æneid in Slang, entitled “Account of the Milling-match between Entellus and Dares.”
“With daddles high uprais’d, and nob held back,
In awful prescience of th’ impending thwack,
Both Kiddies stood—and with prelusive spar,
And light manœuvering, kindled up the war.!”
* * * * *
Boxiana; or, Sketches of Modern Pugilism, by Pierce Egan. London, 1820.
This is more particularly devoted to the Prize-ring, and its technicalities.
The Fancy: A selection from the Poetical Remains of the late Peter Corcoran, of Gray’s Inn, Student at Lawe London, Taylor & Hessey. 1820. This is written in imitation of Tom Crib’s Memorial to Congress, and is generally ascribed to James Smith, one of the authors of The Rejected Addresses. It abounds in cant, slang, and terms of the prize ring, and has a short glossary of terms.
The True History of Tom and Jerry; or, The Day and Night scenes of Life in London, with a Glossary of Slang. By Pierce Egan. About 1820.
Flash Dictionary of the Cant Words, Queer Sayings, and Crack Terms now in use in Flash Cribb Society. By Mr. Duncombe. 1820.
Jack Randall’s Diary of Proceedings at the Souse of Call for Genius. This is supposed to have been written by Thomas Moore, it contains numerous Slang parodies, relating to pugilism and fast life in London. 1820. Jack Randall was an ex-pugilist, who kept a public-house called the Hole-in-the-Wall, Chancery Lane, frequented by the “fancy.” He died in 1828.
Alas! poor Jack lies on his back,
As flat as any flounder:
Although he died of a bad inside,
No heart was ever sounder.
The Hole-in-the-Wall was once his stall,
His crib the Fancy name it:
A Hole-in-the-Ground he now has found,
And no one else will claim it.
* * * * *
Essayes and Characters of a Prison and Prisoners. (Mynshull) Edinburgh, 1821. Contains an account of the Cant used in the prison.
Life of David Haggart, written by himself while under sentence of Death. With a glossary of the Slang and Cant Words of the Day. 1821.
Life in St. George’s Fields; or, the Rambles and Adventures of Disconsolate William, Esq., and his Surrey Friend, Flash Dick, with Songs and a Flash Dictionary. 1821.
A Political Dictionary; or, Pocket Companion:—Chiefly designed for the use of Members of Parliament, Whigs, Tories, Loyalists, Magistrates, Clergymen, Half-pay Officers, Worshipful Aldermen and Reviewers; being an Illustration and Commentary on all Words, Phrases, and Proper Names in the Vocabulary of Corruption. With biographical illustrations from the lives of the most celebrated Corruptionists in Church and State. By the Editor of the “Black Book.” London: T. Dolby. 1821.
This work, which has a strong Radical bias, is satirically dedicated to the odious Lord Castlereagh, and is very outspoken in its denunciations of Bribery, Corruption, Pensioners, and Placemen, as witness the definition it gives of “Laureate (Poet),” “A fellow who barters his principles for a hundred pounds a year and a butt of sack.” This gibe was directed at the renegade republican Robert Southey, then Poet Laureate.
The Man of the World’s Dictionary. Anonymous. London: J. Appleyard. 1822.
Translated from the Dictionnaire des Gens du Monde, a satirical work in the form of a dictionary.
Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, by Francis Grose, revised and corrected, with the addition of numerous Slang Phrases, collected from tried authorities, by Pierce Egan. London. 1823.—This is the best edition of Grose’s work.
Dictionary of the Turf, the Ring, the Chase, the Pit, the Bon Ton, and the Varieties of Life, by John Bee, (i.e., John Badcock). 1823.
Gradus ad Cantabrigiam; or New University Guide to the Academical Customs, and Colloquial or Cant terms peculiar to The University of Cambridge. By a Brace of Cantabs. London. J. Hearne. 1824.—This is written in the form of a Dictionary, and contains some excellent parodies.
The Modern Flash Dictionary, containing all the Cant Words, Slang Terms, and Flash Phrases now in vogue. By E. Kent. 1825.
Modern Flash Dictionary, 48mo. 1825.—The smallest Slang Dictionary ever printed.
Sportsman’s Slang; A new Dictionary of Terms used in the affairs of the Turf, the Ring, the Chase, and the Cockpit. By John Bee (J. Badcock). 1825.
My Thought Book, by J. Thomas, 1825.—Contains a chapter on Slang.
Living Picture of London for 1828, and Strangers’ Guide through the streets of the Metropolis; showing the Frauds, the Arts, Snares and Wiles of all descriptions of Rogues, &c., 1828.—Giving an insight into the language of the streets.
Mornings at Bow Street. By T. Wright, London, 1838. Contains Etymologies of a few Slang Words.
Poverty, Mendicity, and Crime; or the Facts, Examinations, &c. upon which the Report was founded, Presented to the House of Lords by W. A. Miles, Esq., to which is added a Dictionary of the Flash or Cant Language, known to every Thief and Beggar. Edited by H. Brandon, Esq., London; Shaw & Sons, 1839.—The Flash Dictionary only extends to six pages, followed by two examples of “flash” conversation, the first of which has already been quoted.
Sinks of London laid open, a Pocket Companion for the uninitiated, to which is added a Modern Flash Dictionary, with a List of the 60 orders of Prime Coves, the whole forming a True Picture of London Life, Cadging made Easy, the He-She Man, Smoking Kens, Lessons to Lovers, &c. With illustrations, by George Cruikshank, London, 1848.
London Labour and London Poor, 4 vols. By Henry Mayhew. London, 1851.
In the Great World of London, written by the same gentleman, there is also some information about Cant and Slang Words.
Magistrates’ Assistant and Constables’ Guide. By Snowden, 1852.—Contains a “Glossary of the Flash Language.”
Archaic Dictionary, by J. O. Halliwell, 2 vols. 1855.
The Vulgar Tongue: comprising two glossaries of Slang, Cant and Flash words and phrases, principally used in London at the present day. By Ducange Anglicus. London: Bernard Quaritch, 1857. Only 250 copies were printed of this edition. The first Glossary was original, the second was merely a reprint from the report entitled Poverty, Mendicity, and Crime, which see. It also contains The Leary Man, a Flash Song, and a Tailor’s Handbill in Slang, both of which have already been quoted.
Essay on Church Parties. By Dean Conybeare, containing examples of clerical, or pulpit Slang. 1858.
The Slang Dictionary; or, the Vulgar words, Street Phrases and “Fast” expressions of High and Low Society. This was first published in London by John Camden Hotten in 1859 as The Dictionary of Modern Slang, Cant, and Vulgar words, a second edition appeared in 1860; the above named which appeared in 1864, contained much more matter than its predecessors. There have been several editions published more recently. Speaking in a general sense this appears to be by far the most interesting, as it is also the most useful work on Slang for modern readers. Naturally it contains a few coarse and vulgar expressions, but none of an obscene or indelicate description. It has a bibliography of Slang and Cant, which is, however, incomplete.
The History of a Manchester Cadger; narrated in his own language. Price, one penny.—This was an impudent theft from Hotten’s Slang Dictionary.
Miss Polly-Glott’s Dictionary of the Future.—This was a satirical Dictionary which appeared in several parts of The Girl of the Period Miscellany. London. 1869.
A Pedlar’s Pack of Ballads and Songs. By W. H. Logan. Edinburgh; William Paterson. 1869.—This contains about a dozen slang songs, the best of which have been already quoted.
The Shotover Papers, or Echoes from Oxford. Oxford. J. Vincent. 1874-75.—This contains numerous specimens of the slang in use in the Oxford Colleges.
The Life and Times of James Catnach, (late of Seven Dials) Ballad Monger. By Charles Hindley. London. Reeves and Turner. 1878.—Contains old Cant Ballads, and notes on Thieves and their haunts.
Macmillan’s Magazine, October, 1879. Autobiography of a Thief, by Rev. J. W. Horsley.—See also Jottings from Jail. 1887.
Flights of Fancy by E. L. Blanchard. London: E. W. Allen, 1882. This has a more explanatory sub-title; “The Comic Encyclopædia, a Dictionary of Definitions for the use of Punsters,” this in reality is a humorous and satirical dictionary. This work originally appeared in parts in the early numbers of Fun. London.
Jottings from Jail; Notes and Papers on Prison matters. By the Rev. J. W. Horsley M.A., London. T. Fisher Unwin, 1887.
This contains “An Autobiography of a Thief, in Cant or Thieves’ language,” which had previously appeared in Macmillan’s Magazine for October, 1879. This was also reprinted, with a French translation, in Mr. A. Barrère’s splendid work Argot and Slang.
The A. B. C. of a New Dictionary of Flash, Cant, Slang and Vulgar Words, Proverbs and Provincialisms, their Explication and Illustration. On the basis of Bailey and Grose. London, no date, but probably printed about 1866. This exceedingly scarce and rather coarse little book (110 pages) has no author’s or publisher’s name. It only deals with the first three letters of the alphabet, and was evidently intended as the first instalment of a very complete dictionary, an intention which was not carried into effect. Only a few copies were printed.
New Canting Dictionary. N.D.
A new Dictionary of the Jaunting Crew. N.D.
The Gipsy Vocabulary, Edited by W. Pinkerton.
Every Day Life in our Public Schools. By C. E. Pascoe. London.
The Seven Curses of London. By James Greenwood.
A Supplementary English Glossary. By T. L. O. Davies. London, 1881.
“The True History of Tom and Jerry; or The Day and Night Scenes of Life in London from the Start to the Finish! With a key to the Persons and Places, together with a Vocabulary and Glossary of the Flash and Slang terms occurring in the course of the work.” By Charles Hindley. London, Reeves & Turner, 1889.
This is a reprint of Pierce Egan’s Tom and Jerry and The Finish to the Adventures of Tom, Jerry, and Logic, with an interesting and profusely illustrated introduction, by Mr. Hindley. The Glossary has been revised and brought down to date, and altogether the book is as curious and as amusing a record of “Life in London” seventy years ago as can be desired. Only two hundred and fifty copies have been printed.
A Dictionary of Slang, Jargon, and Cant, embracing English, American, and Anglo-Indian Slang, Pidgin English, Tinkers’ Jargon, and other irregular Phraseology, compiled and edited by Albert Barrère and Charles G. Leland. Printed, for subscribers only, at the Ballantyne Press. 1889. Only the first volume (A to K) of this work has as yet been issued.
AMERICAN AND COLONIAL SLANG.
Essays on Americanisms, Perversions of Language in the United States, Cant Phrases, &c.—By Dr. Witherspoon, Philadelphia, 1801.
Probably the earliest work on Americanisms.
Vocabulary, or Collection of Words and Phrases which have been supposed to be peculiar to the United States of America. By F. Pickering, Boston, 1816.
Letter to the Hon. John Pickering, on the subject of his Vocabulary, or Collection of Words and Phrases supposed to be peculiar to the United States. By Noah Webster, Boston, 1817.
Collection of College Words and Customs. By B. H. Hall. Cambridge (U.S.) 1856.
Dictionary of Americanisms; a Glossary of Words and Phrases colloquially used in the United States. By John Russell Bartlett. New York, 1859.
Glossary of supposed Americanisms; Vulgar and Slang words used in the United States, by Alfred L. Elwyn. 1859.
Gazetteer of Georgia, U.S. By Sherwood. This contains a glossary of the Slang and Vulgar words peculiar to the Southern States of the U.S.A.
A Handbook of Sayings and Phrases. By J. A. Mair. London, George Routledge and Sons. About 1880. This useful little work contains not only many English Slang Words, but also a collection of American Words and Phrases.
Americanisms, Old and New, being a collection of words, phrases, and colloquialisms peculiar to the United States British America, the West Indies, etc. By John S. Farmer. Privately printed 1889. This contains a good many words pertaining to transatlantic cant, or thieves’ slang. An amusing article on this book appeared in The Daily News, January 31, 1889.
School Life at Winchester College, giving an account of the Language of Ziph. By Professor Mansfield.
——:o:——
CONTINENTAL BOOKS OF REFERENCE ON “ARGOT” OR SLANG.
La Comédie des Proverbes. Par Adrien de Montluc. 1633.
Dictionnaire des Halles. Bruxelles, 1696. A scarce and very curious slang dictionary.
Dictionnaire Comique, Satyrique, Critique, Burlesque, Libre et Proverbial. Avec une explication très-fidèle de toutes les manières de parler Burlesques, Comiques, Libres, Satyriques, Critiques et Proverbiales, qui peuvent se rencontrer dans les meilleurs Auteurs, tant anciens que modernes. Par Philibert Joseph Le Roux. Lyons, 1735. Other editions 1752 and 1786.
(The editor’s copy of this curious work was published by Michel Charles le Cene, at Amsterdam, 1718, and was purchased in July 1889, at Sotheby’s sale of the Library of the Right Hon. and Reverend the Earl of Buckinghamshire.)
Le Poissardiana. 1756.
Amusements à la Grecque, ou les Soirées de la Halle. Par un Ami de feu Vadé. Paris, 1764.
Amusements rapsodi-poétiques. 1773.
Nouveau Dictionnaire Proverbial, Satirique et Burlesque. Plus complet que ceux qui ont paru jusqu’à ce jour, à l’usage de tout le monde. Par A. Caillot. Paris. Dauvin, 1826.
Illustrated by many interesting quotations from the old French classical writers.
Dictionnaire d’Argot, ou la Langue des Voleurs devoilée, contenant les moyens de se mettre en garde contre les Ruses des Filous. Paris. 1830 (?)
Histoire de Collet et de plusieurs autres Voleurs anciens et modernes, suivie d’un Dictionnaire Argot-Francais. Paris, 1849.
Macaroneana, ou Mélange de Littérature Macaronique des différents Peuples de l’Europe. Par Octave Delepierre. 1852.
Etudes de Philologie comparée sur l’Argot. Par Francisque Michel. Paris. 1856.
Dictionnaire d’Argot, ou Etudes de Philologie comparée sur l’Argot. Par Francisque Michel. Paris. 1856.
Le Dictionnaire des Précieuses. Par A. B. de Somaize. Nouvelle edition par Ch. L. Livet. 1856.
Récréations Philologiques. Par F. Génin. Paris. 1858.
Liber Vagatorum. Der Betler Orden. The Book of Vagabonds and Beggars, with a vocabulary of their Language. Now first translated into English, with Notes, by John Camden Hotten. 4to. London. 1859.—For an account of this work see Hotten’s Slang Dictionary.
Glossaire Erotique de la Langue Française. Par Louis de Landes. Bruxelles, 1861.
Curiosités de l’Etymologie française. Par Charles Nisard. Paris, 1863.
Vocabulaire des Houilleurs Liégois. Par S. Bormans. 1864.
Dictionnaire de la Langue Verte, par Alfred Delvau. Paris. Second edition, 1867.
Almanach de la Langue Verte pour l’année 1868, à l’usage des Bons Zigues.
Almanach Chantant. 1869.
Dictionnaire Historique, Etymologique, et Anecdotique de l’Argot Parisien. Par L. Larchey. Paris, 1872. (There have been several editions of this work).
De quelques Parisianismes populaires et autres Locutions. Par Charles Nisard. Paris, 1876.
Dictionnaire Historique l’Argot. Par Lorédan Larchey. Paris, 1880.
Dictionnaire d’Argot Moderne. Par Lucien Rigaud. Paris, 1881.
Dictionnaire de l’Argot des Typographes. Par Eugène Boutmy. Paris, 1883.
Dictionnaire de l’Argot Moderne. Par L. Rigaud. Paris, 1883.
Dictionnaire de la Langue Verte, par Delvau et Fustier.
The last and best edition, with a supplement, was published in Paris in 1883.
L’Argot des Nomades en Basse-Brétagne. Par N. Quellien. Paris, 1885.
L’Argot des Nomades de la Basse-Brétagne. Par N. Quellien. Paris, 1886.
La Langue Verte du Troupier. Par Léon Merlin. Paris, 1886.
Le Jargon, ou Langage de l’Argot reformé. Epinal. N.D.
Paris Voleur. Par Pierre Delcourt. Paris, 1887.
Dictionnaire Erotique Moderne. Par un Professeur de la langue Verte. (Alfred Delvau.)
Les Formules du Docteur Grégoire, Dictionnaire du Figaro. Par A. Decourcelle. Paris: J. Hetzel. No date.
An amusing satirical work, in which many humourous definitions are arranged in the form of a dictionary.
Histoire de la Prostitution, par Léo Taxil. Paris. N.D.
Argot and Slang; a new French and English Dictionary of the Cant Words, Quaint Expressions, Slang Terms and Flash Phrases used in old and new Paris. By A. Barrère. London. Privately printed at the Chiswick Press, by C. Whittingham and Co. 1887.
This splendid work contains historical notices of the various canting languages, a number of songs both in French and English slang, and a French translation of the Rev. J. W. Horsley’s Autobiography of a Thief in Thieves’ Language.
M. Barrère gives a long list of the works he has consulted, and in the body of his book brief extracts are given to show the application and contexts of the examples.
Books on foreign slang are very numerous. Besides those already mentioned the following are well known:—“Le Jargon, ou Langage de l’Argot reformé,” &c. (à Troyés), par Yves Girardin, 1660; another by Antoine Dubois, 1680; “Le Jargon ou Langage de l’Argot reformé, pour l’instruction des bons Grivois,” &c., à Lavergne, chex Mezière, Babillandier du Grand Coëre, 1848; “Le Jargon de l’Argot,” par Techener (several editions).
Alfred Delvau published his “Dictionnaire de la Langue Verte, Argots Parisiens comparés,” in 1866, and a second edition in 1867. A third “augmentée d’un supplément par G. Fustier” appeared in 1883. The same author published the “Dictionnaire Erotique Moderne” in 1864. Other editions followed in 1874 and 1875.
Lorédan Larchey wrote “Les Excentricités de la Langue Française” in 1860; the fourth edition appeared in 1862. In 1872 the title was changed to “Dictionnaire Historique Etymologique et Anecdotique de l’Argot Parisien. Sixième Edition des Excentricités du Langage mise à la hauteur des Revolutions du Jour.” In 1880 the eighth edition was called “Dictionnaire Historique d’Argot”; and a supplement appeared in 1883.
It has not been attempted here to give more than a brief bibliography of the principal French works treating of Argot in an explanatory, or historical manner.
Those who wish to pursue the subject further, and to study examples, must consult the old poems of Maitre Francois Villon and Molière, and the writings of Rabelais, Beaumarchais, Eugene Sue, Victor Hugo, Emile Zola, Champfleury, Honoré de Balzac, Pierre de Brantôme, Alphonse Daudet, Emile Gaboriau, Charles Nodier, Jean Richepin, and the classical Memoires de Monsieur Vidocq.
