ULSTER PROVINCIALISMS.
The people of Ulster may fairly claim a larger share of public attention than has usually been accorded to them: they have rendered their province prosperous in a country which is a stranger to prosperity; they have established and maintained great industries in a country of decayed trade and ruined commerce. In the colonies, they have risen in a remarkable degree to positions of affluence and authority; and in all the British dominions, Ulstermen are found in the van of commercial and professional life.
The Ulsterman comes of a very mixed descent. Just as the Englishman was originally a compound of Saxon, Norman, and Dane, so in the Ulsterman’s veins flows the blood of Irish, Scotch, and English progenitors. The relative proportion of each element varies much according to locality and religion. On the shores of Antrim and Down, the population is in many places almost as purely Scotch as in Ayrshire or Lanark. In Belfast, Scotch blood predominates; but there was originally a large English element. In Donegal and Fermanagh, the Celtic element is in excess. Everywhere, the Protestant derives more from Scotch and English sources; the Roman Catholic, from Irish.
From the earliest times, there has been a large emigration from Scotland to the opposite Irish shore. During the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. the chief settlements from England took place; and the settlers from both countries gradually pushed back the original Irish inhabitants to the mountains and into the interior. To this day, there is a secluded district in County Antrim, known as the Glens of Antrim, where the Irish language may still be heard, although it has long departed from other portions of the same county. As we travel westward, Irish more frequently meets the ear, and in many parts of Donegal it is the prevailing tongue.
It is not surprising that in a province of such varied lineage, provincialisms should be numerous and curious. To guard against misconception, let it be understood that the educated Ulsterman speaks like educated people elsewhere—namely, with perfect correctness and scarcely appreciable accent. The peculiar words and phrases about to be enumerated are heard almost exclusively among the poorer ranks, or, if employed at all by the educated classes, it is only in jest and with a recognition of their provincial character. The majority of them are of Scotch origin; some are found in colloquial and provincial English; while others are of Hibernian extraction.[1]
As might have been expected, proverbs and proverbial expressions form a large class of these provincialisms. ‘All to the one side, like Clogher,’ is an allusion to a town in County Tyrone where all the houses and shops are on one side of the thoroughfare, the opposite side being a private demesne. ‘That bangs (surpasses) Banagher’ is an allusion to the great fair held at that spot. When the Ulsterman wishes to imply that a certain event is extremely improbable, he says that it will happen at ‘Tibb’s Eve,’ adding the mysterious information that this is ‘neither before nor after Christmas.’ This expression is a curiously exact counterpart of the Latin phrase about the Greek kalends. ‘As blunt as a beetle’ refers to a species of heavy wooden mallet to which Shakspeare alludes. ‘As busy as a nailer,’ ‘As clean as a new pin,’ ‘As crooked as a ram’s horn,’ are common Ulster expressions, which do not call for any explanation. A more mysterious expression is the curious phrase, ‘As grave as a mustard-pot’—used to express preternatural solemnity. People of bilious complexion are often described with more force than elegance as being ‘As yellow as a duck’s foot.’
The Ulsterman has no special repute for gallantry, yet his simile for anything exceptionally simple is, ‘As easy as kiss.’ His favourite phrase when about to impart some very confidential information is, ‘Between you and me and the post.’ A person whose sanity is open to question is often described as ‘Wanting a square of being round’—a curiously inexact expression. A person who gapes with wide-mouthed wonder is said to look ‘like a duck in thunder.’ Similarity of political or religious opinion is expressed in Ulster by saying that two people ‘Dig with the same foot.’ ‘A dead man’s plunge’ is a peculiar Ulster expression; it is applied to the short, sudden, and rather hollow sound made by a smooth flat pebble when it is tossed into the air and falls into water upon its edge.
A large class of provincialisms are made up of asseverative expressions. The Ulsterman often prefaces his remarks by ‘Assay’ (I say) or ‘A’m sayin’’ (I’m saying). ‘May I never stir’ introduces some peculiarly solemn assertion. ‘A month of Sundays,’ and still more strongly, ‘All my born days,’ are emphatic expressions for long periods of time. ‘Dear help your wit’ expresses commiseration for the innocence and simplicity of the person addressed.
Ulster adjurations are a curious medley, ‘Heth’ and ‘Feth’ being frequently used. ‘By Jaiminie King’ is a curious expression often heard in County Fermanagh. ‘Holy Farmer’ is another obscure form of oath. ‘Hokey oh’ is a phrase implying astonishment and alarm. ‘Hoker’ is used by Chaucer to express frowardness, and ‘Hocer’ in Anglo-Saxon meant a reproach. These words probably contain the clue to the origin of this obscure Ulster provincialism.
Expressions conveying contempt or endearment are common. ‘Bad scran to you’ is a phrase of angry contempt. ‘Skran’ in Icelandic means ‘refuse.’ Milton used the word ‘scrannel’ (‘scrannel pipes’) to express poor or mean; and ‘scranny’ still survives in provincial English in this sense. ‘Bad cess to you’ is another Ulsterism of similar meaning, of which the origin is more doubtful; possibly ‘cess’ is a contraction for success. ‘Give me none of your back-talk’ is said by a superior to an inferior, meaning, ‘Don’t presume to argue the question with me.’ A ‘Tory rogue’ is still commonly used in Ulster in the sense of a scamp; but it is often applied to children in a playful sense. It is an interesting relic of the original meaning of the word Tory—an Irish outlaw or freebooter. A ‘tongue-thrashing’ is a vigorous phrase for a severe rebuke. ‘Carnaptious’ means quarrelsome and fault-finding.
Some salutations are characteristic of the northern province. ‘How do you get your health?’ often takes the place of the more vague, ‘How do you do?’ ‘The top of the morning to you’ is a cheery way of saying ‘Good-morrow.’
As might have been expected, there is a long array of peculiar botanical and zoological expressions characteristic of Ulster. Every district has its local names for flowers, plants, birds, and animals, and in these Ulster is peculiarly rich. Potatoes are known as ‘spuds;’ ‘biller’ means water-cress; ‘daffydowndillies’ is a lengthened form of daffodils; ‘mayflower’ is the marsh marigold or Caltha palustris. The heads of the common plantain are called ‘cocks’ or ‘fighting-cocks,’ because children make a game of striking them off in mimic warfare. The dock-plant is called the ‘dockan’ (Scotch), and its leaf is a popular remedy for nettle-sting; the wood-sorrel is known as ‘cuckoo-sorrel.’
A still longer list of zoological terms might be made out. The bottle-nosed whale is known as the ‘herring-hog;’ the pollack is called ‘lythe;’ the lobworm used by fishermen for bait is called the ‘lug;’ the stickleback has its name corrupted into ‘spricklybeg;’ the gadfly is known as the ‘cleg’ (which is also its Scotch name); ‘yilly-yorlin’ (also Scotch) is the yellow-hammer; the ‘felt’ is the redwing; the ‘peeweet’ (Scotch again) means the lapwing; the ‘mosscheeper’ is the titlark; the cormorant is known as the ‘scart.’
We now turn to some provincialisms which do not admit of a ready classification. ‘Bis’ is often said for ‘is,’ and ‘bissent’ for ‘is not.’ Here we have an instance of a very common phenomenon—an archaic form surviving as a colloquialism or provincialism. A vast number of our common vulgarisms which we are inclined to regard as breaches of grammar are simply good grammar out of date; in this case, the provincialism almost exactly preserves a very ancient form of the verb. The Anglo-Saxon verb ‘to be’ present tense indicative mood was ‘beom, bist, bith,’ whence no doubt come ‘bis’ and ‘bissent.’ ‘Braird,’ often used in Ulster, as in Scotland, of the young springing grain, is the Anglo-Saxon ‘brord,’ meaning the first blade. ‘Buffer’ in the sense of ‘boxer’ is from the old French word ‘buffe,’ meaning a blow.
‘Chew, sir,’ is a form of rebuke applied to a snarling dog. ‘Dwamish’ means faint and sick, from ‘dwam,’ a Scotch word signifying a swoon or a sudden attack of illness. ‘Dunt’ means a blow, and is old English and Scotch; Burns says, ‘I’ll tak dunts frae naebody.’ A ‘founder,’ according to our dictionaries, is a term in farriery to indicate lameness caused by inflammation within the hoof of a horse. In Ulster, the word is often used to express a chill or wetting followed by illness. A man after being exposed to the vicissitudes of weather becomes seriously ill without knowing what is the matter, and he expresses his condition by saying that he has got ‘a regular founder.’ ‘Head-beetler’ is used in the same vulgar sense as ‘Head-cook and bottle-washer’ in some localities. The beetle was a machine for producing figured fabrics by the pressure of a roller, and ‘head-beetler’ probably means the chief director of this class of work. A ‘heeler’ is a cock which strikes out well with his heels. In Ulster, the word is sometimes used for a bold forward woman.
When a child begins to nod and look sleepy, he is told that ‘Johnny Nod is coming up his back,’ which is understood as a signal for going to bed. ‘Potatoes and point’ is a curious phrase in which the poverty of the lower classes in Ireland finds unconscious expression. The idea is, that the potatoes before being eaten are ‘pointed’ at a herring, which is hung up to serve as an imaginary relish to the simple fare, but too precious to be freely consumed. ‘Dab at the stool’ is another expression referring to eating customs: salt is placed upon a stool, and each individual, as the potatoes are taken out of the pot, takes one and ‘dabs’ it at the stool, to get a portion of the salt. ‘Pouce’ and ‘poucey’ mean dust and dusty, but by a common perversion of language, ‘poucey’ comes to mean a person in a flax-mill who is exposed to the irritation of dusty particles, and becomes in consequence short-winded and bronchitic. ‘Roughness,’ as in Scotland, means plenty. ‘Ruction’ signifies a row, a disturbance; possibly it is a contraction of ructation, from the Latin verb ructare. ‘Skelly,’ to squint, is from the Scotch, and is found in Scott. The Danish is ‘skele.’ ‘Smittle,’ also used in Scotland, means infectious, and is connected with the verb to smite. ‘Think long’ means to be homesick.
We thus see how much curious information and how many relics of the past are found in the despised vulgarisms of a provincial patois. They are the fossils of language, and speak to us of vanished peoples and of ages long gone by.