SLANG, suggested spendthrift lexicographer Francis Grose in his Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue of 1785, ought to inspire pride in British hearts. Ribald, scatological, inventive, vigorous and witty, slang, he said, was the preserve of a nation without shackles, proof of British 'freedom of thought and speech, arising from... our constitution'. 'Vulgar' it undoubtedly was, 'suiting to the common people', as Dr Johnson defined vulgarity in 1755. Yet slang was more than throaty grossness.
By 1774 and his Dictionary's fourth edition, Johnson had qualified his definition: 'vulgar' also meant 'vernacular' and 'national'. Slang, acclaimed as a byproduct of British free speech, had come of age as a national tongue. For many Britons, it was-as Nathan Bailey had suggested in his popular Dictionarium Britannicum of 1730-the 'true ENGLISH'.
The 18th century can well lay claim to being a golden age of British slang. Pungent, pithy, frequently derogatory terms for every human encounter and bodily function abounded. In Hanoverian Britain, prissiness was restricted to the revivalist preachers, whom slang-merchants ridiculed as 'Amen curlers', or the elderly spinsters they termed 'ape leaders', as unmarried women's punishment after death would be to lead monkeys in hell.
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
Save our family farms
IT Tremains to be seen whether the Government will listen to the more than 20,000 farming people who thronged Whitehall in central London on November 19 to protest against changes to inheritance tax that could destroy countless family farms, but the impact of the good-hearted, sombre crowds was immediate and positive.
A very good dog
THE Spanish Pointer (1766–68) by Stubbs, a landmark painting in that it is the artist’s first depiction of a dog, has only been exhibited once in the 250 years since it was painted.
The great astral sneeze
Aurora Borealis, linked to celestial reindeer, firefoxes and assassinations, is one of Nature's most mesmerising, if fickle displays and has made headlines this year. Harry Pearson finds out why
'What a good boy am I'
We think of them as the stuff of childhood, but nursery rhymes such as Little Jack Horner tell tales of decidedly adult carryings-on, discovers Ian Morton
Forever a chorister
The music-and way of living-of the cabaret performer Kit Hesketh-Harvey was rooted in his upbringing as a cathedral chorister, as his sister, Sarah Sands, discovered after his death
Best of British
In this collection of short (5,000-6,000-word) pen portraits, writes the author, 'I wanted to present a number of \"Great British Commanders\" as individuals; not because I am a devotee of the \"great man, or woman, school of history\", but simply because the task is interesting.' It is, and so are Michael Clarke's choices.
Old habits die hard
Once an antique dealer, always an antique dealer, even well into retirement age, as a crop of interesting sales past and future proves
It takes the biscuit
Biscuit tins, with their whimsical shapes and delightful motifs, spark nostalgic memories of grandmother's sweet tea, but they are a remarkably recent invention. Matthew Dennison pays tribute to the ingenious Victorians who devised them
It's always darkest before the dawn
After witnessing a particularly lacklustre and insipid dawn on a leaden November day, John Lewis-Stempel takes solace in the fleeting appearance of a rare black fox and a kestrel in hot pursuit of a pipistrelle bat
Tarrying in the mulberry shade
On a visit to the Gainsborough Museum in Sudbury, Suffolk, in August, I lost my husband for half an hour and began to get nervous. Fortunately, an attendant had spotted him vanishing under the cloak of the old mulberry tree in the garden.
