Ban, to proclaim or denounce. The original meaning is connected with ‘banner,’ a flag, or standard; in feudal times, the rallying point to which retainers flocked to do battle for their seigneur. The word is supposed to be connected with ‘bend,’ in the sense of to make a sign. ‘Bandit,’ a proclaimed outlaw, is from the same source, as also ‘Banns,’ i.e. a proclamation of marriage.
Bankrupt. The following circumstances gave rise to this word. It was the custom in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries for the Lombard merchants to expose their wares for sale in the market-place, on benches. Whenever any one of their number failed in his business, or could not pay his debts, all the other merchants set upon him, drove him from the market, and broke his bench to pieces. ‘Banco rotto’ is the Italian for bench-broken. Hence came the word, which passed into French in the form ‘banqueroute;’ and into English as ‘bankrupt.’
Barley-sugar. Has nothing whatever to do with the grain ‘barley.’ The first part of the word is here an inversion—and at the same time a corruption of the French brûlé (burnt). The whole word was originally ‘sucre brûlé’ (burnt sugar), and it is still sometimes called ‘sugar-barley.’
Birmingham. The name of an Anglo-Saxon family was often formed by adding ing to that of its founder; ing meaning ‘son of,’ or ‘descended from.’ The estate or residence was called the ‘ham,’ or home; and the name was formed by adding this syllable ham, to the family name. Thus, the family of a Saxon leader named ‘Beorm’ possessed a residence in Mercia, to which they gave the name of ‘Beorm-ing-ham,’ or the home of the sons of Beorm; now corrupted into ‘Birmingham.’ Many places in England still retain the names originally given them by Anglo-Saxon families; as ‘Nottingham,’ ‘Walsingham,’ &c.
Blackguard was a name first given to the lowest menials engaged in the dirty work of a kitchen or household, as scullion, link-boy, coal-carrier, &c. It was afterwards applied to any loose, idle vagabonds.
Book. In the same way as the Latin liber (the bark of a tree), was afterwards used in the sense of a book, because it was a material used for writing on; so our word book comes from the Saxon ‘boc’ (a beech tree). In a rude, uncivilised age, it was the custom to form alphabetical letters with the pliable twigs of the beech. To this day, the German for ‘to spell’ is ‘buchstabiren’ (from ‘Buch’ (beech), and ‘stab’ (a staff or twig)); i.e. to put the beech-staves properly together.
Booty. The Anglo-Saxon ‘bet’ meant ‘better’; and ‘betan’ was to amend or make better. Thus a ‘booty’ would be that which betters us; ‘bootless’ is ‘without effect or improvement,’ and ‘so much to boot,’ is so much to our advantage.
Burglar. This is from the Low Latin ‘burgilatro,’ a house-robber; one who breaks into a house with a felonious intent. The old French ‘lerre’ is a contraction of the Latin ‘latro,’ a robber.
Cabal. The usually received etymology of this word is that it is formed of the initials of the names of the five ministers of Charles II. who succeeded to the government of this country after the banishment of Lord Clarendon—Clifford, Ashley, Buckingham, Arlington, and Lauderdale. But Mr. Wedgewood suggests that it comes from ‘Cabala,’ or the mysterious tradition delivered to Moses with the Law, on Mount Sinai, and handed down by the Jews from father to son. ‘Hence,’ he says, ‘Cabal came to signify a secret machination or plotting.’ Lord Macaulay favours the first explanation.