NEW AND REVISED EDITION
LONDON
WHITTAKER AND CO., WHITE HART STREET
PATERNOSTER SQUARE
1889
PREFACE.
The publication of a dictionary of French cant and slang demands some explanation from the author. During a long course of philological studies, extending over many years, I have been in the habit of putting on record, for my own edification, a large number of those cant and slang terms and quaint expressions of which the English and French tongues furnish an abundant harvest. Whatever of this nature I heard from the lips of persons to whom they are familiar, or gleaned from the perusal of modern works and newspapers, I carefully noted down, until my note-book had assumed such dimensions that the idea of completing a collection already considerable was suggested. It was pointed out to me, as an inducement to venture on so arduous an undertaking, that it must prove, from its very nature, not only an object of curiosity and interest to the lover of philological studies and the public at large, but also one of utility to the English reader of modern French works of fiction. The fact is not to be ignored that the chief works of the so-called Naturalistic School do certainly find their way to this country, where they command a large number of readers. These productions of modern French fiction dwell with complaisance on the vices of society, dissect them patiently, often with power and talent, and too often exaggerate them. It is not within my province to pass a judgment upon their analytical study of all that is gross in human nature. But, from a philological point of view, the men and women whom they place as actors on the stage of their human comedy are interesting, whatever they may be in other respects. Some of them belong to the very dregs of society, possessing a language of their own, forcible, picturesque, and graphic. This language sometimes embodies in a single word a whole train of philosophical ideas, and is dashed with a grim humour, with a species of wit which not often misses the mark. Moreover, these labourers, roughs, street arabs, thieves, and worse than thieves—these Coupeaus, Bec-Salés, Mes-Bottes, Lantiers—are not the sole possessors of a vernacular which, to a certain extent, is the exponent of their idiosyncrasies. Slang has invaded all classes of society, and is often used for want of terms sufficiently strong or pointed to convey the speaker’s real feelings. It seems to be resorted to in order to make up for the shortcomings of a well-balanced and polished tongue, which will not lend itself to exaggeration and violence of utterance. Journalists, artists, politicians, men of fashion, soldiers, even women talk argot, sometimes unawares, and these as well as the lower classes are depicted in the Naturalistic novel. Now, although the study of French is daily acquiring more and more importance in England, the professors of that language do not as a rule initiate their pupils—and very naturally so—into the mysteries of the vernacular of the highest and lowest strata of society, into the cynical but pithy and humorous jargon of the voyou from the heights of Montmartre or Ménilmontant, nor even into the lisping twaddle of the languid gommeux who lolls on the Boulevard des Italiens. Hence English readers of L’Assommoir and other similar works find themselves puzzled at every line, and turn in vain for assistance to their dictionaries. The present volume aims at filling the vacant space on the shelves of all who read for something besides the passing of an idle hour. An English slang equivalent of the English rendering has been inserted whenever that was possible, and because the meaning of a term is better conveyed by examples, as many quotations as the limits of the Dictionary would admit have been reproduced from different authors.
A few words on the manner in which the work has been compiled are due to the reader. In order to complete my own private information, specially with reference to old cant, I have drawn as freely as seemed to me legitimate on works of a similar character—Michel’s, Delvau’s, Rigaud’s, Lorédan Larchey’s excellent Dictionnaire Historique d’Argot, Vilatte’s Parisismen, a very complete work on French argot rendered into German. But by far the most important portion of my collection has been gathered from Vidocq’s productions, Balzac’s works, The Memoirs of Monsieur Claude, formerly superintendent of the detective department in Paris, and from other works to be mentioned hereafter. To an inspector of the detective force in Paris, Monsieur Lagaillarde, I am indebted for many of the terms of the phraseology used by the worthies with whom his functions have brought him in contact.