Francis Grose; Grose by name and gross by nature.

Think of 18th Century dictionaries and we tend to think of Dr Johnson. I prefer the somewhat wittier, more bawdy compilation of slang which went under the title of 'The Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue'  (‘vulgar’ in the sense of ‘commonly used’ or vernacular language, rather than necessarily  something ‘uncouth’ or ‘smutty’). The compiler was Francis Grose, a man with a surname which barely did justice to his enormous girth. Indeed he was so rotund that reportedly his servant had to truss him up in bed in order to keep the bed clothes round his vast stomach.

He was born in Broad Street, St Peter-le-Poer in London and was baptised on 11 June 1731. He was to die of a stroke on a trip to Ireland on 12 June 1791. In between he filled in a life of riotous good living, was an inn-keeper, raconteur, soldier, an antiquarian, a lexicographer and a draughtsman. He was himself one of seven children born to a Swiss immigrant, and went on to have ten children of his own with his long suffering wife Catherine Jordan whom he married in 1750. Six of the children lived to adulthood, the eldest becoming the Lieutenant-Governor of New South Wales.

Grose published various tomes on antquities, under the name Antiquities of England and Wales (1773–1787) and A Treatise on Ancient Armour and Weapons (1785–1789). 

In 1785 Grose published his slang Dictionary. It went on to be re-published in 1788 and a third edition appeared in 1798. Whereas there had been many such books before, they tended to be based upon a very narrow section of the underworld – slang used by thieves and pick-pockets for example. Grose went to extremes to wander the streets picking up slang words from all walks of life, in drinking dens, or down at the docks, or in the slums of the city. He was aided and abetted by his side-kick Tom Cocking. His opus was supplemented by A Provincial Glossary, with a Collection of Local Proverbs, and Popular Superstitions (published in1787). Some 3,500 words were listed in the dictionary, many of them appearing for the very first time. It must be added that Dr Johnson in his 1755 Dictionary was typically dismissive of slang words, which he referred to as cant, claiming that they were “unworthy of preservation”

Maybe, but thanks to Grose they have been preserved. Some have stayed popular, others have evolved and changed their original meaning, and others remind us what a rich seam of humour abounds in the English language.

Some which I like, or recognize, or have never come across before but are worth repeating, are as follows (persons of a shy or delicate nature may prefer to look away now).

abbess , “a bawd, the mistress of a brothel”;

academy or pushing school , “a brothel”;

apple dumplin shop  (also Cupid’s Kettle drums) – “an ample cleavage”

bitch,  “a she dog or doggess; the most offensive appellation that can be given to an English woman, even more provoking than that of whore.”

bundletail, “a short fat woman”; 

covent garden nun , “a prostitute”;

dandyprat “a puny man” (also arsworm)

go-between ( a pimp or bawd)

gold finder (one who cleans toilets).

Gollumpus (a large clumsy fellow)

Grumbletonians  people who are constantly dissatisfied with life

hopper-arsed “a man with a protruding backside”

thingumbobs,  nutmegs, gingambobs, plug tails, lobcocks – all words for male genitalia

madge, doodle-sack, gigg,  notch – female equivalent

bumbo , “brandy, water and sugar; also the negro name for the private parts of a woman”;

scotch warming pan , “a wench, also a fart”;

scourers , “riotous bucks who amuse themselves with breaking windows, beating the watch and assaulting every person they meet”;

rum dubber, a thief who picks locks

rushers, “thieves who knock at the great houses in London, in summer time, when the families are gone out of town, and on the door being opened by a woman, rush in and rob the house”;

riding St. George , “the woman uppermost in the amorous congress, that is to say the dragon upon St. George”;

molly: A miss Molly , “an effeminate fellow, a sodomite.” Other words for silly or effeminate men: twiddle poop, fribble and tony;

Rude terms for an unattractive  woman or one with low morals  might be trugs, toad eaters, sosse brangles, queans, hedge whores, gilflurts or laced mutton; 

to blow the grounsils, “to lie with a woman on the floor”;

bunter, “a low dirty prostitute, half whore and half beggar”;

bum fodder, “soft paper for the necessary house” (i.e. toilet paper);

to roger, “to lie with a woman.”

billingsgate language: “Foul language, or abuse. Billingsgate is the market where the fishwomen assemble to purchase fish; and where, in their dealings and disputes, they are somewhat apt to leave decency and good manners a little on the left hand.”

polt (a punch in the face),

potato trap (a mouth),

poisoned (pregnant).

smack (to kiss, which developed into a ‘smacker’).

Smack the calves skin “to kiss the book” i.e. the Bible 

Smack smooth “level with the surface, everything cut away” 

Smart money “money allowed to soldiers or sailors for the loss of a limb or other hurt received in the service”

snap the glace (break the shop windows),

snabble (to riffle or plunder)

smush (to snatch)

blue ruin, cobblers punch, crank, diddle, frog's wine, heart's ease, lightening and drain – were all words used to describe gin.

and finally one which evokes a time gone by, when men were men, and never left the dining room for anything as trivial as a call of nature:

Vice-admiral of the narrow seas (one who urinates under the table into the shoes of a fellow diner).

Mr Grose, we remember you today, for the world would be a poorer place without you. Thanks to the Gutenburg Press copies of the 1811 version of the book are available in digitised form at http://www.gutenberg.org/files/5402/5402.txt.

 

                                               
                                            File:Captain Francisa Grose, FSA.jpg

Those difficult words, where the spelling differs from the pronunciation...

London, a magnet for immigrants from all over the country, must have been a real melting pot of accents in the Eighteenth Century. Then, as now, you would not want to be taken for a country bumpkin and would wish to ensure that you pronounced words correctly so as not to be shown up!

I am not saying all "polite society" pronounced words the same way, simply that my ancestor Richard Hall meticulously noted down words which "weren't as they appeared" and presumably this was because he wished to follow the speech patterns and pronunciation of those he admired.

 

  

 
 
 

With his 'Hartichokes', his 'twaylet', and his 'huzzif' he sounded a somewhat affected person to modern ears, but to him that was the correct way of speaking!

 

Dr Johnson's Miniature Dictionary

 
                         Dr Johnsons Miniature Dictionary 
Some time after 1799 my ancestor Richard Hall decided to buy a copy of Dr Johnson's Dictionary at a cost of three shillings and sixpence, bound, and noted the details in his diary. In fact many of these dictionaries shamelessly used the name Dr Johnson as part of their title and then simply listed the words which he had selected in his original two-volume set. They often missed off the full meanings of words and omitted examples of quotations which were the hall-mark of the original work.The 'miniatures' (the equivalent of a modern paperback or pocket sized edition), were intended particularly for school use.

Many added 'useful extras' such as this one:
shown courtesy of Abe Books (yours for a shade over £250 to include post and packing!).

Johnson had published his original Dictionary of the English Language on 15th April 1755. It marked the culmination of years of labour. Poor Johnson – he had originally been a teacher in Lichfield in Staffordshire but apparently his pupils did not appreciate his teaching skills. Indeed it is quite possible that he suffered from Tourette’s Syndrome, with complaints about his ‘oddities of manner and uncouth gesticulation’. Throughout his life he suffered from a tic, emphasised by him uttering strange noises 'as if clucking like a hen'' or exhaling air 'like a whale' These  oddities of manner forced him to move to London in 1737 and for the next decade he scraped a fairly miserable living writing for magazines and struggling to keep his creditors at bay. Fortunately he had been befriended by the actor David Garrick (indeed the latter had been a pupil of his) and Garrick knew his way around London and effected numerous introductions for him. Eventually he was asked by the bookseller Robert Dodsley to compile a definitive dictionary of the English Language. It was not the first attempt – there had been a score of earlier versions spread over the preceding 200 years, but Johnson took things to an entirely new level of erudition and scholarship. The Earl of Chesterfield agreed to act as patron to the project and to pay Johnson the huge fee of 1500 guineas.

Whereas the French had their forty ‘immortals’ (a committee of learned men who made up the Académie Française who would take upwards of fiftyfive years to compile their Dictionnaire) Johnson set-to with between four and six helpers and completed the whole task in a little over 8 years. He was determined  to ‘straighten out’ the language, aiming loftily "[O]ne great end of this undertaking is to fix the English language." In this aim he can be said to have failed miserably, since English refuses to stop growing and evolving.

 
Johnson ended his days gout-ridden and in great pain. He was buried in Westminster Abbey on Christmas Eve 1784.

A plethora of pocket editions appeared shortly after Johnson's death. They sold in their thousands, both in England and overseas, with editions being printed throughout the Nineteenth Century. And so it is a copy of the miniature dictionary which Thackeray has Becky Sharpe hurl out of the carriage window in Vanity Fair (1847).

  
Samuel Johnson c. 1772, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds

For a hundred and fifty years, until the Oxford English Dictionary appeared on the scene, Dr Johnson's Dictionary was the pre-eminent source of words, their meaning, pronunciation, and use.

Post script: I cannot end a post on dictionaries without including my own all-time favourite:
The definition reads "A small red fish which swims backwards" - and the word this is supposed to describe? A crab. But a crab is not necessarily small. Indeed it is not a fish. It is not always red. It does not swim - it crawls. Its movement is sideways not backwards.
So, a masterpiece of inaccuracy on the part of the lexicographer, with every single word being erroneous. And yet....most of us would immediately recognize the description. As Blackadder says to Dr Johnson in the penultimate (and finest) series of Blackadder, it is enough to throw you into a state of total discombobulation.

Punctuation - 18th Century style.

Richard was meticulous in writing down the rules for punctuation – setting them out  in at least two of his notebooks and giving correct examples as an aide memoire.

                                      scan0124.jpg general punctuation

 

He identified twelve different forms of punctuation ("marks used in reading") and set them down :

                                           scan0125.jpg punctuaipon pt 1

                                          scan0126.jpg punctuaton pt 2

There is a reference in his diairies to the fact that Richard had a book published (about his great friend and mentor the Baptist minister Dr John Gill) so presumably he may have learned the printers marks when proofing the book. I love the ornately drawn 'Index' finger - not a symbol on my 'qwerty' keyboard and one which would have taken several seconds to draw!

Pronunciation -18th Century style

London throughout the 18th Century was a magnet for migrants from

 

the countryside. At an early age Richard would have encountered accents from

 

all over the country – and no doubt would have realized that if you were not to

 

be dismissed as a yokel you had to learn to “speak properly”. Pronunciation of

 

the spoken word was as important as grammar, spelling and punctuation were

 

to the written word. And so he faithfully wrote down those “difficult” words –

 

the ones which were not always as they seemed:

 

 “Words written very different from their Pronounciation:

 

            Adieu              -                                   Adu

 

            Almond                      _                      Amun

 

            Apprentice                -                       Prentis

 

            Artichoke                   -                       Hartichoke

 

            Apron                          -                      Apurn

 

            Autumn                      -                      Awtum

 

            Ballad                        -                        Ballet

 

            Beau                           -                        Bo

 

            Beauty                       -                       Buty

 

            Bosom                        -                       Boozum

 

            Business                    -                       Biznus

 

            Chaise                          -                     Shaze

 

            Cucumber                  -                       Cowcumber

 

            Diamond                   -                       Dimun

 

            Dictionary                 -                       Dixnary

 

            Farthing                    -                       Fardun

 

            Hiccough                   -                       Hiccup

 

            Medicine                    -                       Meds’n

 

            Nurse                         -                       Nus

 

            Sheriff                        -                       Shreeve

 

            Stomach                    -                       Stummuk

 

            Toilet                         -                       Twaylet or twilit

 

            Yacht                          -                       Yot

 

            Birmingham             -                       Brummijum

 

            Cirencester                -                       Sissota

 

            Deptford                    -                       Dodfurd

 

            Guernsey                   -                       Garnzee”

 

So, while others around him were dropping their “haitches” Richard was

 

adding them to his artichokes! To modern ears he would have sounded

 

somewhat affected: “Nus, pass me my meds’n I am going to Sissota for a

 

cowcumber”.

 

Toilet (pronounced twaylet) had no connection whatsoever with its modern

 

meaning – it meant your make-up and presentation, and was an activity

 

carried on in the bedroom at the table which held your toilet i.e. holding your

 

hand-glass (that is to say, mirror), your powders, your lotions purchased from

 

the apothecary designed to make your skin more youthful, your wig

 

and so on.