.


 
 THE 
 
 VOCABULARY 
 
 OF 
 
 EAST ANGLIA; 
 
 AN ATTEMPT TO RECORD 
 THE VULGAR TONGUE OF THE TWIN SISTER COUNTIES, 
 
 NORFOLK AND SUFFOLK, 
 
 AS IT EXISTED 
 
 3In flje Ia0t 3Ctoentg 2?ears of tfye (ZEigljtecntf) Century, 
 
 W!TH PROOF OF ITS ANTIQUITY FROM ETYMOLOGY AND AUTHORITY. 
 Antiquam exquirite matreni. VIRGIL. 
 
 BY THE LATE REV. ROBERT FORBY, 
 
 RECTOR OF FINCHAM, NORFOLK. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY AND FOR 
 
 J. B. NICHOLS AND SON, 25, PARLIAMENT STREET. 
 
 AND SOLD BY MATCHETT AND STEVENSON, AND WILKIN, NORWICH ; 
 
 RAW, IPSWICH; SLOMAN, YARMOUTH; DECK, BURY ; 
 
 LODER, WOODBBIDGE ; SW1NBORNE, WALTER, AND TAYLOR, 
 
 COLCHESTER; GUY, CHELMSFORD ; AND DEIGHTON, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 1830.
 

 
 iii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Preface v 
 
 Names of Subscribers viii 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, by Dawson Turner, 
 
 Esq. F.R.S. F.S.A xiii 
 
 INTRODUCTION 1 
 
 ESSAY I. On the Origin and Progress of Po- 
 pular Language, with a particular view to 
 
 that of East Anglia 11 
 
 ESSAY II. On the principal characteristics of 
 
 East Anglian Pronunciation 76 
 
 ESSAY III. On some peculiarities of East An- 
 glian Grammar 120 
 
 VOCABULARY 1 
 
 Abbreviations explained 2 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 On the Popular Superstitions of East Anglia 585 
 Popular Sayings respecting the Weather . . 416 
 
 Saints' Days, Seasons, &c .418 
 
 Old Customs, Old Stories, &c 419 
 
 Proverbial, or Common Sayings, &c. . . . 427 
 
 a2
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IT may be expected from the Editor, that he 
 should give some account of the book which he 
 now offers to the public ; but the extracts from Mr. 
 Forby's Correspondence in the following Memoir 
 are so full and explicit upon this subject, as to ren- 
 der any observations on the design and nature of 
 the work unnecessary. Some explanation, however, 
 may be required of one passage in the correspond- 
 ence referred to ; in which (after detailing the plan 
 of the work) it is stated, that it would " conclude 
 with an Essay on the remarkable prevalence of 
 Anglo-Saxon nomenclature in the Topography of 
 East Anglia." It might be supposed from this 
 passage, that some part of Mr. Forby's materials 
 had been suppressed, or that the book had been 
 abridged of one of its members in the present pub- 
 lication. But this is assuredly not the case. What- 
 ever might have been the Author's original inten- 
 tion, it is probable that he soon changed his views, 
 and abandoned his design : at any rate, it is quite 
 certain, that neither in his letters to the Editor, nor 
 in several conversations which they had on the sub- 
 ject of his bock a few months before his death, did 
 he ever mention this Essay. Indeed there appears 
 a3
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 to have been no provision made for it in any of the 
 papers which came into the Editor's possession, 
 except a collection of the names of a few parishes ; 
 but without any notice of the purpose for which 
 they were brought together, or the slightest sketch 
 from which the plan of the proposed Essay could be 
 conjectured. It may not be improper perhaps, in 
 this place, to mention in what degree of forward- 
 ness the work was left by Mr. Forby. 
 
 The Introduction and the two first Essays were 
 entirely finished, and copied out fairly for the press. 
 The Vocabulary had been for some time in an 
 equally forward state of preparation, and had been 
 repeatedly revised. These parts may therefore be 
 said to have received the Author's final correction. 
 The " Essay on the Grammar of the East-Anglian 
 Dialect" was composed subsequently, and was 
 copied out fairly for more than three parts of its 
 length. The remainder was supplied by the Editor 
 from a rough copy, which, however, he was not 
 always able exactly to decipher ; and he suspects it 
 was not quite finished by the Author. For the 
 Appendix there were some materials, of which the 
 Editor has availed himself. 
 
 Such was the state of the work, when the 
 Author was, by the will of Providence, suddenly 
 snatched away, and his book left incomplete. It 
 was still, however, the opinion of his friends (of 
 whom the Editor avows himself to have been one)
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 that, incomplete as it was, it ought not to be lost 
 to the world : and, as the Executors declined the 
 printing, it was finally agreed that the work should 
 be published by subscription. It is certainly not im- 
 probable that the judgment of Mr. Forby's friends 
 may have been biassed by their affection for him: and 
 most undoubtedly the work would have appeared 
 to much greater advantage, if the Author had been 
 spared to put the finishing hand to his composi- 
 tion, and to superintend its publication. But the 
 Editor still entertains a hope that the opinion of 
 himself and his friends may be confirmed by the 
 Public ; and that the Book, with all its disadvan- 
 tages, may not be found unworthy of the patronage 
 it has received. But, however this may be, he 
 trusts that it will meet with the indulgence usually 
 shown to posthumous publications, and that he may 
 be allowed to bespeak it in the language of the 
 poet : 
 
 Orba parente suo quicunque volumlna cernis, 
 
 His saltern vestia detur in urbe locus. 
 Qu&que raagis faveas, non heec sunt edila ab Ulo, 
 
 Sed quasi de doraini funere rapta sui. 
 Quicquid in his igitur vitii rude carmen habebit, 
 
 Emendaturus, si licuisset, erat. OVID, Trist. Eleg. 6. 
 
 GEORGE TURNER. 
 Kettleburgh, Nov. 16, 1829.
 
 NAMES OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 
 
 HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. 
 
 THE RT. HON. WILLIAM HENRY EARL OF ROCHFORD. 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE EARL OF ASHBURNHAM. 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. GEORGE JOHN EARL SPENCER, K. G. 
 
 THE RIGHT HONORABLE JOHN EARL OF STRADBROKE. 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. ARCHIBALD EARL OF GOSFORD. 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. LORD VISCbUNT ACHESON. 
 
 THE RIGHT HON. DOWAGER LADY SUFFIELD. 
 
 THE RIGHT HONORABLE AND REV. LORD BAYNING. 
 
 THE RIGHT HONORABLE LORD WODEHOUSE. 
 
 THE HONORABLE JOHN WODEHOUSE, 
 Lieutenant, Vice Admiral, and Custos Rot. of the Co. of Norfolk. 
 
 THE RIGHT HONORABLE LORD HENNIKER. 
 
 THE RIGHT REVEREND THE LORD BISHOP OF ELY. 
 
 THE RIGHT REV. THE LORD BISHOP OF NORWICH. 
 
 THE VERY REVEREND THE DEAN OF NORWICH. 
 
 THE VERY REVEREND THE DEAN OF ELY. 
 
 THE REVEREND THE DEAN AND CHAPTER OF ELY. 
 
 SIR THOMAS GERY CULLUM, BART. 
 
 SIR WILLIAM PARKER, BART. 
 
 SIR CHARLES BLOIS, BART. 
 
 SIR THOMAS SHERLOCK GOOCH, BART., M. P. 
 SIR SAMUEL FLUDYER, BART. 
 
 SIR W. H. B. FOLKES, BART. 
 SIR W. F. MIDDLETON, BART. 
 SIR EDMUND K. LACON, BART.
 
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 Henry Alexander, Esq. CorkStreet. 
 
 John Alexander, Esq. 8, Knights- 
 bridge Terrace. 
 
 Miss Alexander, Ely. 
 
 Rev. Wm. Allen, Narburgh. 
 
 Thomas Amyot, Esq. F.R.S.Treas. 
 S.A. James-st. Buckingham-gt. 
 
 John Angerstein, Esq. 2 copies. 
 
 Rev. Geo. Anguish, Gisleham.Suff. 
 
 Andrew Arcedeckue, Esq. M. P. 
 Glevering Hall. 
 
 Walter Arcedeckne, Esq. 
 
 J. T. Brockett, Esq. F.S.A. New- 
 
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 Rev. Charles Brooke, Ufford Place. 
 MM. J. Brooke, East Bergholt, 
 
 Dedham. 
 
 Miss Brooke, Hemel Hempstead. 
 Rev. James Brown, Norwich. 
 Rev. Thomas Brown, Hemingston. 
 Mrs. Brown, ditto. 
 Rev. Lancelot R. Browne, Kelsale. 
 Rev. Wm. Browne, Marlesford. 
 Mrs. Browne, Elsing. 
 
 ADDITIONAL SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 THE MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS OF BRISTOL. 
 SIR HENRY EDWARD BUNBURY, BART. K.C.B. 
 
 S. S. Beare, Esq. Norwich. 
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 T. Holmes, Esq. Bury St. Edmund's. 
 Rev. H. Hasted, Bury St. Edmund's. 
 John Moseley, Esq. Glemham House. 
 
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 College, Cambridge. 
 
 Rev. T. C. Blofeld, Hoveton. 
 
 Giles Borrett, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Mrs. Borthwick, tipper Park Cot- 
 tage, Dedham. 
 
 Rev. J. D. Borton, Blofield. 
 
 Rev. Joseph Bosworth, Vicarage, 
 Little Horwood 
 
 John Brightwen, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Rev. Tho. Broadhurst, Brandeston. 
 
 Rev. S. Cobbo'ld, Woolpit. 
 
 T. W. Coke, Esq. M. P. Holkham. 
 
 H. Colby, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Colby, Ellingham. 
 
 Rev. William Colby. 
 
 Rev. A. Collett, Heveningham. 
 
 Rev. N. Colville, Livermere. 
 
 James Colvin, Esq. Grove, Little 
 
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 R. Crawshay, Esq. Honingham. 
 Francis Cresswell, Esq. Lynn.
 
 NAMES OF SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 
 HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE. 
 
 SIR WILLIAM PARKER, BART. 
 
 SIR CHARLES BLOIS, BART. 
 
 SIR THOMAS SHERLOCK GOOCH, BART., M. P. 
 SIR SAMUEL FLUDYER, BART. 
 
 SIR W. H. B. FOLKES, BART. 
 SIR W. F. MIDDLETON, BART. 
 SIR EDMUND K. LACON, BART.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 IX 
 
 Henry Alexander, Esq. CorkStreet. 
 
 John Alexander, Esq. 8, Knights- 
 bridge Terrace. 
 
 Miss Alexander, Ely. 
 
 Rev. Win. Allen, Narburgh. 
 
 Thomas Amyot, Esq. F.R.S.Treas. 
 S.A. James-st. Buckingham-gt. 
 
 John Angerstein, Esq. 2 copies. 
 
 Rev. Geo. Anguish, Gisleham.Suff. 
 
 Andrew Arcedeckne, Esq. M. P. 
 Glevering Hall. 
 
 Walter Arcedeckne, Esq. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Bacon, Fring Parsonage. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Badely. 
 
 Rev. Edward Bartee. 
 
 Rev. William Barlee. 
 
 George Barlee, Esq. 
 
 C. F. Barnwell, Esq. British Mus. 
 
 Nathaniel Barthropp, Esq. Ha- 
 cheston. 
 
 Rev. Rob. Bathurst, Norwich. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Beauchamp. 
 
 Rev. Edward John Bell, Wickham 
 Market. 
 
 Rev. Philip Bayles, Rector of St. 
 Mary at the Walls, Colchester. 
 
 Rev. Philip Bell, Stow. 
 
 Rev. J. W. Bellamy, Head Master 
 of Merchant-taylors' School. 
 
 H. B. Bence, Esq. 
 
 Mr. H. Bennington. 
 
 Mrs. Berney, Morton. 
 
 David Bevan, Esq. 5 copies. 
 
 Robert Bevan, Esq Rougharu. 
 
 John Bidwell, Esq. London. 
 
 L. S. Bidwell, Esq. Thetford. 
 
 Rev. George Bidwell, Standon. 
 
 J. Blackburne, Esq. St. John's 
 College, Cambridge. 
 
 Rev. T. C. Blofeld, Hoveton. 
 
 Giles Borrett, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Mrs. Borthwick, Upper Park Cot- 
 tage, Dedham. 
 
 Rev. J. D. Borton, Blofield. 
 
 Rev Joseph Bosworth, Vicarage, 
 Little Horwood 
 
 John Brightwen, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Rev. Tho. Broadhurst, Brandeston. 
 
 J. T. Brockett, Esq. F.S.A. New- 
 castle. 
 
 Rev. Charles Brooke, Ufford Place. 
 
 Mrs. J. Brooke, East Bergholt, 
 Dedham. 
 
 Miss Brooke, Hemel Hempstead. 
 
 Rev. James Brown, Norwich. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Brown, Hemingston. 
 
 Mrs. Brown, ditto. 
 
 Rev. Lancelot R. Browne, Kelsale. 
 
 Rev. Wm. Browne, Marlesford. 
 
 Mrs. Browne, Elsing. 
 
 Rev. Chas. Cambell, Weasenham. 
 
 The Yen. G. O. Cambridge, Arch- 
 deacon of Middlesex and Pre- 
 bendary of Ely. 
 
 Mrs. George Cambridge, Twick- 
 enham Meadows. 
 
 Rev. George Capper, Wherstead. 
 
 Miss Cappers, Beacon Hill, Mart- 
 lesham. 
 
 J. S. Cardale, Esq. Leicester. 
 
 Rev.Wm. Carr, B.D. BoltonAbbey. 
 
 Rev. Joseph Carter. 
 
 Rev. Thos. Carthew, Woodbridge. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Catton, St. John's 
 College, Cambridge. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Chafey, Master of Sidney 
 Sussex College, Cambridge. 
 
 Rev. Edw Chaplin, Camden Town. 
 
 Rev. Dr. Chevallier, Aspall Hall. 
 
 Charles Chevallier, Esq. ditto, ditto. 
 
 Rev. C. Chevallier, Badingham. 
 
 Rev. John Clarke, Woodbridge. 
 
 Miss Clough, Feltwell. 
 
 Rev. Edward Cobbold, Watlington. 
 
 John Cobbold, Esq. Ipswich. 
 
 Rev. S. Cobbold, Woolpit. 
 
 T. W. Coke, Esq. M. P. Holkham. 
 
 H. Colby, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Colby, Ellingham. 
 
 Rev. William Colby. 
 
 Rev. A. Collett, Heveningham. 
 
 Rev. N. ColvilIe,Livermere. 
 
 James Colvin, Esq. Grove, Little 
 Bealings, near Woodbridge. 
 
 R. Crawshay, Esq. Honingham. 
 
 Francis Cresswell, Esq. Lynn.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Crnmpton. 
 Charles Crowe, Esq. Coddenham. 
 Rev. Henry Crowe, Bath. 
 Philip Crowe, 45, Montagu-squ. 
 W. H. Crowfoot, Esq. Beccles. 
 Rev. B. Cubitt, Sloley. 
 Rev. W. Dalton, Swaffham. 
 William Dawes, Esq. Bank of 
 
 England. 
 Capt. Davy, R. N. Mount Amelia, 
 
 Ingoldisthorpe. 
 Rev. Charles Davy, Barking. 
 Mrs. Davy, Barking. 
 Miss Davy, Barking. 
 Miss C. Davy, Barking. 
 Miss M.D.Davy, Burking. 
 D. E.Davy, Esq. Ufford. 
 Rev. F. Daubenny, Bexwell. 
 Rev. J. Day, Hethersett. 
 Mr. Deck, bookseller, Bury. 
 Charles Devon, Esq. Loudham 
 
 Hall, nearWoodbridge, 2 copies. 
 Rev. W. F. Drake, Norwich. 
 Rev. Philip Durham, Ely. 
 M.Edgar, Esq. Ipswich. 
 Rev. A. Edwards, Great Cressing- 
 
 ham. 
 
 Rev. Edward Edwards, Lynn. 
 Edmund Elsden, Esq. Lynn. 
 Mr. Etheridge, Stoke. 
 H. R. Evans, Esq. Ely. 
 W. Everard, Esq. Lynn. 
 Mrs.Everard, Dedham. 
 Rev. Henry Fardell, Prebendary of 
 
 Ely. 
 Rev. Dr. Fawssett, Minister of 
 
 Brunswick Chapel, St. Mary- le- 
 
 bone. 
 
 T. Fisher, Esq. Cambridge. 
 Mr. W.S. Fitch, Ipswich. 
 John Fitz-Gerald, Esq. M. P. 
 
 Wherstead Lodge. 
 Andrew Fountaine, Esq. Narford 
 
 Hall. 
 
 Henry Francis, Esq. Norwich. 
 Mrs. Francis, Norwich. 
 Rev. Dr. French, Master of Jesus 
 
 College, Cambridge. 
 
 Rev. French, Bedingham. 
 
 John Gage, Esq. Director S.A. 
 Lincoln's Inn. 
 
 J. Garden, Esq Redisham Hall. 
 
 Mr. Garner Gill. 
 
 S. H. L. N. Oilman, Esq. Hing- 
 ham. 
 
 Rev. Theophilus Girdlestone, Ba- 
 consthorpe. 
 
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 Mrs. Girdlestone, Kelling Hall. 
 
 Rev. W. Girling, Seaming. 
 
 Mr. John Andrew Girling, jun. 
 45, West Smithfield, L'jLdon. 
 
 Rev. John Glasse, Burnhaui West- 
 gate. 
 
 Robert Gooding, Esq. Southwold. 
 
 Rev. John Griffith, Ely. 
 
 E. H. Grigson,Esq. Sahara. 
 
 Rev. Wm. Grigson, Sahara. 
 
 Rev. John Hindes Groome, Earl 
 Soham. 
 
 John Gunn, Esq. Lincoln's-Inn. 
 
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 Daniel Gurney, Esq. North Rune- 
 ton. 
 
 Mrs. Henrietta Gurney, Norwich. 
 
 Hudson Gurney, Esq. M. P. 2 
 copies. 
 
 Rev. Robert Hamond, Swaffham. 
 
 Miss Hamond. 
 
 Rev. R. Hankinson, Bilney. 
 
 Rev. W. Hardwicke, Outwell. 
 
 Thomas Harvey, Esq. Northwold. 
 
 Mrs. Harvey, Watton. 
 
 Miss Harwood, Ely. 
 
 Rev. B. G. Heath, Creeling All- 
 Saints. 
 
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 Rev. Cuthbert Henley, Rectory, 
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 Rev. Edward Hibgame, Jesus Col- 
 lege, Cambridge. 
 
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 Rev. Gervas Holmes, Copford. 
 
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 Rev. James Hoste, Lltcham.
 
 SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Hon. and Rev Frederick Hotham, 
 
 Dennington. 
 
 Rev. Edward J. Howman, Hock- 
 ering. 
 
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 Rev John Huiufrey, Wroxham. 
 
 J. B. Huntington/Esq. Hethel. 
 
 W. Hustler, Esq. Registrar of the 
 University of Cambridge. 
 
 Mr. Ingle, Lynn. 
 
 Hugh Jackson, Esq. Wisbech. 
 
 Rev. S. Jackson, Blakenham. 
 
 W. Rhodes James, Esq. Barking. 
 
 H.N. Jarratt, Esq. Great Bromley. 
 
 Edmund Jenney, Esq. Hasketou. 
 
 Rev. George Jenvns, Prebendary 
 of Ely. 
 
 Rev. Richard Johnson, Statham. 
 
 Rev. T. Kerrich, Principal Libra- 
 rian, Cambridge University. 
 
 Rev. W. Kil!ett,'Kcnninhall. 
 
 Rev. Geo. King, Prebendary of Ely. 
 
 Tho. W. King, Esq. Heralds Col- 
 Re?^. KIrby, F. L. S. &c. Rec- 
 tor of Barbara. 
 
 John Kitson, Esq. Norwich. 
 
 F. Lane, Esq. Lynn. 
 
 James Lawson, Esq. London. 
 
 Rev. James Layton, Catfield. 
 
 Rev. William La\ton, Ipswich. 
 
 Rev. W. C. Leach, Ely. 
 
 J. F Loathes, Esq. Herringfleet 
 Hall. 
 
 Rev. J. Lewis, Gillingham. 
 
 Mr. J. Loder, bookseller, Woodb. 
 
 Rev. John Longe, Coddenham. 
 
 John Longe, Esq. Coddenham. 
 
 Rev. Robert Longe, Coddenham. 
 
 Rev. R. Lucas, Oxburgh. 
 
 Lynn Subscription Library. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Mack, Tunstead. 
 
 Rear- Admiral Manby, Northwold. 
 
 Matthew Manby, Esq. Kettlestone. 
 
 Miss H. L. Marcon. Swaffham. 
 
 JonathanMatchett.Esq.Lakenham. 
 
 Rev. John Metcalfe, Canterbury. 
 
 Rev. Wm. Metcalfe, Foulmire. 
 
 Rev. Thomas Methold, Prebend- 
 ary of Norwich. 
 
 Rev. George Millers, Ely. 
 
 Rev. W. Millers, Rector of Aber- 
 daron, 2 copies. 
 
 Major Edw. Moor, Bealings Hall. 
 
 J. Morse, Esq. Swaffham. 
 
 Mr. E. Muggridge, bookseller, 
 Lynn, 2 copies. 
 
 Rev. T. C. Munnings, Gorgate. 
 
 Rev. W. NewcotHf, HockwoIdHall. 
 
 Rev. T. Newman, Little Bromley. 
 
 Norfolk and Norwich Literary In- 
 stitution. 
 
 Rev. Henry North, Ringstead. 
 
 Mr John Notcutt, Ipswich. 
 
 Rev. James Oakes, Tostock. 
 
 The Venerable J. Oldershaw,Arch- 
 deacon of Norfolk. 
 
 W. W. Page, Esq. Woodbridge. 
 
 Francis Palgrave, Esq. F.S.A. 26, 
 Duke street, Westminster. 
 
 Rev. Benj.Paike, Prebend, of Ely. 
 
 Rev. John Partridge, Cranwich. 
 
 Rev. George Peacock, Fellow of 
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 Wm. Pearce, Esq.WeasenhamHall. 
 
 Rev. Charles Penrice, Plumstead, 
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 George Penrice, M.D Yarmouth. 
 
 John' Penrice, Esq. Hobland Hall. 
 
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 Henry Petrie, Esq.. Keeper of the 
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 ton Martin, co. Somerset. 
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 Edward Smirke, Esq. Temple. 
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 Chancellor of theDiocese of Ely, 
 
 and Prebendary of Ely. 
 H.P.Standly.Esq. Paxton.St.Neots. j 
 Rev. John Standly, Diddington, 2 
 
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 Mr. Steele, Stoke. 
 S. W. Stevenson, Esq. Norwich. 
 William Steward, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 Francis Steward, Esq. Yarmouth. 
 Rev. Mr. Stratton, Boughton. 
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 George Swaine, Esq. Broxbourn, 
 
 Herts. 
 
 Robert Swallow, Esq. Watton. 
 Swinborne and Co. booksellers, 
 
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 Orator of the University of Cam- 
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 Rev. Geo. Frederick Tavel, Camp- 
 sey Ash. 
 
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 Mr. P. Thomson, Bookseller, New 
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 Rev. E. Thurlow, M.A. Prebendary 
 of Norwich. 
 
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 Dawson Turner, Esq. 5 copies. 
 
 Rev. G. T. Turner, Kettleburgh. 
 
 Rev. Richard Turner, B. D. Yar- 
 mouth, 2 copies. 
 
 Thomas .). Turner, Esq. Colchester. 
 
 C.Tyrell,Esq. 
 
 Samuel Tyssen, Esq. Narburgh. 
 
 Rev. Edward Valpy, Norwich. 
 
 Sir C. B. Vere, K C.B. Brooke 
 Hall, near Ipswich 
 
 H. Villebois, Marham House. 
 
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 Mr. Robert Wales, Flncham. 
 
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 William Watson, Esq. Wisbech. 
 
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 cellor of the Diocese of Nor- 
 wich. 
 
 Rev. T. Young, Necton.
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 REV. ROBERT FORBY. 
 
 THE very first letter which I chanced to open 
 upon my return from Italy, at the close of the year 
 1825, announced to me the death of the subject 
 of these Memoirs. Four months only had elapsed 
 since I had left him in the enjoyment of perfect 
 health ; and it had been fixed that he should pay me 
 a visit immediately on my coming home, in order 
 that whilst the impression was still fresh upon my 
 mind, I might detail to him the principal treasures 
 of nature, of art, and of learning, which I had seen 
 in the magic regions beyond the Alps, and might 
 thus at once gratify a man eminently qualified to 
 receive pleasure from the recital, while I corrected 
 any hasty or erroneous opinion of my own by the 
 extensive knowledge, the sound judgment, and the 
 good sense which I well knew that he possessed. 
 But the grave had already closed upon one of 
 
 VOL. i. b
 
 XIV MEMOIRS OF 
 
 the earliest, the kindest, and the best of my 
 friends. 
 
 The letter which communicated to me this intel- 
 ligence was from his brother in law, the Rev. 
 George Millers, a Minor Canon of the Cathedral 
 at Ely, under date of December 21 ; and it ran in 
 the following terms : 
 
 "It becomes my melancholy and painful duty 
 to acquaint you with the sad event which has 
 thrown us all into the greatest distress and afflic- 
 tion. Yesterday morning, Mr. Waddington called 
 upon our good friend, Mr. Forby, about one 
 o'clock, while he was taking his bath, as usual. 
 After waiting a considerable period, the family be- 
 came alarmed; and, upon opening the door, they 
 found that he had fainted in the water, and had 
 been suffocated, and had evidently been dead some 
 time. The news was immediately communicated 
 to me at Ely ; and, without losing a moment, I set 
 out, and arrived at Fincham this morning. I need 
 not say that it is a most bitter affliction and irre- 
 parable loss to us all. It will, however, be a source 
 of much consolation, when the mind becomes com- 
 posed, that, though his death has been awfully sud- 
 den, yet his religious and exemplary life leaves us 
 every hope that he was fully prepared for the 
 change, and will not fail to receive the reward of 
 his proved service."
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. .XV; 
 
 - It were easy to dilate in panegyric upon the de-* 
 ceased, or in expression of the regret of numerous 
 surviving friends : more difficult by far is the task 
 of giving interest to the biography of an indivi- 
 dual, whose days were passed in the quiet retire- 
 ment of a village, most usefully indeed to society, 
 and most honourably to himself, in the educa- 
 tion of youth, the exercise of domestic duties, and 
 the occupations of a parish priest; but unmarked 
 by any of those occurrences which may claim to 
 be recorded. The life of a literary man is sel- 
 dom more than the catalogue of his publications : 
 they indeed may remain, and may delight or in- 
 struct posterity; but it commonly happens that 
 the " fallentis semita vitae," trodden by the indivi- 
 dual who composed them, presents an insuperable 
 obstacle to our obtaining any intimate acquaintance 
 with the author. The very time devoted to com- 
 position intimates seclusion; and seclusion is in 
 every respect the contrary of notoriety. A portrait 
 may make known " quae membra, quis illi vultug 
 erat," and a fac-simile of an autograph may ac- 
 quaint us with the character of his hand-writing ; 
 and, from either the one or the other of these, 
 ingenious persons may speculate upon the supposed 
 talents or moral properties of the man; but the 
 transactions and the occurrences of his life will re- 
 main unknown; or, if known, will only be matter
 
 Xvi MEMOIRS OF 
 
 of interest to those, who, from knowledge of the 
 individual while living, love to dwell with affection 
 upon his memory. I speak, of course, of literary 
 men in the mass : in this, as in every other case, 
 there are of necessity exceptions which prove the 
 rule ; when minds, cast in the highest mould, while 
 they distinguish themselves by their writings, have 
 still sufficient energy to take part in the more active 
 scenes of life ; or when writings are impressed with 
 such a stamp of genius as to render the every-day 
 table-talk of the author, his opinions upon miscel- 
 laneous subjects and upon the events of the passing 
 hour, objects of general inquiry and interest. 
 
 To neither of these classes did Mr. Forby be- 
 long; and, excepting for the following publication, 
 he is scarcely even entitled to be ranked among 
 the number of authors. Nearly the whole that had 
 previously appeared from his pen, consisted only 
 of a letter to the Bishop of Norwich,* a single 
 sermon,f an antiquarian dissertation, printed with 
 his name, and a few election squibs without 
 it; but equally known to have originated from 
 
 * " Letter to the Bishop of Norwich, on some passages in the Re- 
 ports of two Speeches, said to have been addressed by his Lordship 
 to the Church Missionary Association and Bible Society," 1815, 8vo. 
 
 f " A Sermon preached in the parish church of St. Peter at Man- 
 croft in the city of Norwich, on Good Friday, April 14, 1797, for the 
 benefit of the Charity Schools in that city." 4to.
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XVU 
 
 him. The latter are designated by that playful 
 humour which strongly characterized the conversa- 
 tion and habits of the man. It will be sufficient 
 here to introduce, by way of specimen, the follow- 
 ing epigram, which appeared at the time when the 
 late Mr. Windham came forward, in conjunction 
 with Mr. Coke, as candidate for the representation 
 of the county of Norfolk, and when his adversaries 
 strove to excite the popular feeling against him, by 
 charging him with the numerous changes in his 
 public career. It was entitled, 
 
 THE POLITICAL WEATHERCOCK, 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE WHITE COCKADE. 
 
 " When opticians a sunbeam dissect, 
 
 Pure and white as it comes from the sun, 
 What plain folks would never suspect, 
 
 They can shew seven tints mixed in one : 
 There's red, yellow, green, orange, and blue, 
 
 For Tories or Whigs, both or neither, 
 Each to choose his appropriate hue, 
 
 And then change, if they please, like the weather. 
 But such emblems, so stale and deceiving, 
 
 Philosophical Windham derides, 
 And by white, which includes all the seven, 
 
 Demonstrates that he's on all sides." 
 
 I could adduce many others of a similar descrip- 
 tion ; but, meritorious as they may appear in the 
 b 3
 
 Xvill MEMOIRS OF 
 
 eyes of one party, and harmless in those of both, I 
 cannot consent to exhibit my departed friend in 
 the light of a busy meddler in county elections. 
 The minister of the religion of the Blessed Jesus 
 has a different and a far more exalted character 
 to maintain. The very magisterial office, how- 
 ever important their services may be in it, is 
 barely compatible with the real interests of a 
 clergyman. If it does not, as too often happens, 
 excite angry feelings between himself and his flock, 
 it causes them to regard him in a new light, as ex- 
 alted above them, and thus in a manner estranged 
 from them. Such a man, I speak generally, for I 
 know many most honourable exceptions, can rarely 
 become one of those, to whom the poet alludes, 
 when he says that, 
 
 " The service past, around the pious man, 
 With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran ; 
 E'en children followed with endearing wile, 
 And plucked his gown, to share the good roan's smile. 
 His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed, 
 Their welfare pleased him, and their care distressed : 
 To them his heart, his love, his grief were given ; 
 But all his serious thoughts had root in Heaven." 
 
 I dwell with the more earnestness upon the sub- 
 ject, as the circumstance of his having been placed 
 in the Commission of the Peace was a source of 
 the bitterest anxiety and sorrow to my friend. 
 Warm, generous, open hearted, and unsuspicious,
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XIX 
 
 and, to use the words of Horace, " uni aequus vir- 
 tuti atque ejus amicis," he acted from the impulse 
 of a heart that he knew to be right ; but he did not 
 always give time to his judgment to temper his 
 conduct ; nor did he always allow himself to weigh 
 the importance of self-controul and deliberate 
 judgment. 
 
 Hence he was led into errors, which, venial in 
 themselves, exposed him to the venomed shafts of 
 others, who exulted and triumphed over foibles, 
 which the good man would have viewed with regret 
 and pardoned, and the generous man would have 
 respected and defended. 
 
 More than five and thirty years have now elapsed 
 since I quitted Mr. Forby's parsonage at Barton, 
 to enter upon the busy scenes of active life; and it 
 is no less a subject of pride than of the most heart- 
 felt gratification to me to be able to say, that, 
 during all that time, nothing ever occurred to in- 
 terrupt the friendly feeling between us. The vir- 
 tues and the abilities, which, as a boy, I admired in 
 my tutor, I no less respected and loved, as a man, 
 in my friend ; and the sentiments which I here 
 express, I am persuaded, are shared by the great 
 majority of those, who, like me, were indebted to 
 him for their education, as I am sure they are by a 
 large circle of surviving parishioners and friends : 
 
 Ei/ceis" d\\' ou veto AeXaoyieyoi kyuev, eratpe, 
 Ou iev &r) sjwovros tt/cjees owe QO.VOVTOS,
 
 XX MEMOIRS OF 
 
 Mr. Forby was born of respectable, but far from 
 opulent parents, at Stoke Ferry, in the county of 
 Norfolk, and was educated at the free school at 
 Lynn, under the care of the Rev. Dr. Lloyd, of 
 whom he always spoke with esteem and gratitude, 
 as an excellent master and an accomplished scholar. 
 He had here the good fortune to have among his 
 companions some men of distinguished ability, the 
 Rev. Henry Lloyd, the son, of his master, Pro- 
 fessor of Hebrew at Cambridge ; the Rev. Thomas 
 Catton, Senior Fellow of St. John's College, in the 
 same University; the Rev. Thomas Carpendale, 
 Master of the college at Armagh ; and, though last, 
 not least, the friend and preserver of shipwrecked 
 sailors, Captain G. W. Manby, the man who above 
 all others of our times has distinguished himself 
 by his exertions in the cause of humanity. With 
 all these he maintained more or less of intimacy 
 throughout life. By Dr. Lloyd himself he was 
 particularly esteemed and regarded, as a scholar of 
 whom he had reason to be proud. I remember, 
 while I was his pupil at Barton, an application to 
 him on the part of his old master, to furnish an 
 inscription for a drinking cup, made from the stem 
 of a mulberry-tree, which had grown in the school 
 play-ground at the time he lived there, but had 
 then recently fallen from age. The following is a 
 copy of what he sent ; and it is the only one I now
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXI 
 
 remember of many similar productions which were 
 once in my possession. I regret that I have not 
 preserved more ; for, trifles as they are, I feel that 
 they were particularly qualified to convey a cor- 
 rect idea of that neatness of taste and feeling 
 which in an eminent degree marked his classical 
 acquirements. 
 
 " Me quondam viridi com& decoram 
 Noras, tu virides vigens per minus : 
 Mori sis, utinam, memor vetustic ; 
 Lapsae relliquias tones ; senectus 
 Oppressit, cecidi ; cades et ipse. 
 Dum tempus sinit invidum bibendum est." 
 
 I may, I hope, be allowed to quote another 
 trifle of the same character, which the late Dr. 
 Sayers has preserved in the last edition of his 
 " Dissertations." The ancient font belonging to 
 the church of Burnham Depedale had been re- 
 moved from its place ; and its stones would have 
 been dispersed and lost, had not Mr. For by col- 
 lected them, and rebuilt in his garden that very 
 curious monument "antique laudis et artis." This 
 done, he added to it the following inscription : 
 
 " NE PEREAT IND1GNUM PERIRE, 
 HE QUO TURPI CONTAM1NETUR USU, 
 
 HOC BAPTISTER1UM, 
 
 ARTIS ANGLO-SAXONICJE OPUS, 
 
 A STUDIOSIS NOV1TATIS
 
 XX11 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 IOCO PROPRIO DETURBATUM, 
 
 HIC POS1TUM, A. D. M.DCCCVII. 
 
 ID SALTEM ANTISUI JURIS OBTINET, 
 
 UT NON NISI COXESTEM AgUAM CAPIAT." 
 
 From Lynn Mr. Forby was removed to Caius 
 College, Cambridge, where he graduated in 1781, 
 and soon after became a Fellow; and where he 
 would have continued to reside, but that the late 
 Sir John Berney, in an evil hour, induced him to 
 resign his fellowship and abandon his prospects in 
 College, for the sake of retiring into the country 
 and undertaking the education of his sons. He 
 received from Sir John the small living of Horn- 
 ingtoft, in Norfolk ; but all other expectations from 
 that quarter were frustrated by misfortunes on the 
 part of the Baronet. Mr. Forby, who, in the full 
 confidence that he had now found his harbour, and 
 bidden farewell to hope and fortune, had fixed him- 
 self at Barton Bendish, in the immediate vicinity of 
 his intended patron, and had taken his mother and 
 sisters to reside there with him, was obliged to have 
 recourse to pupils for his sustenance. Shortly 
 after this time, my connection with him commenced 
 in the year 1790 : he begun with the intention of 
 receiving two scholars, and before I left him in 
 1793 the number had increased to six. The dif- 
 fusion of his well-merited celebrity caused even this 
 number in a few years to be nearly doubled, till in
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. Xxiii 
 
 1*797 he found it necessary to engage a larger resi- 
 dence, and removed from his confined parsonage 
 at Barton to Wereham. Two years subsequently, 
 the death of his uncle, the Rev. Joseph Forby, 
 wholly altered his situation and his views. He 
 came into possession of the valuable living of 
 Fincham, an adjoining parish, the presentation to 
 which belonged alternately to his family and to the 
 Crown ; and he fixed himself there, never again to 
 move, in 1801. Pupils he still continued to take, 
 but they were no longer necessary to furnish him 
 with daily bread ; and every one who has been con- 
 versant, in however slight a degree, with education, 
 knows that the daily and hourly annoyances neces- 
 sarily attendant upon it are such, that no motive 
 can ever thoroughly reconcile the mind to the irk- 
 some task, except the spur of more irksome ne- 
 cessity. 
 
 Hence vexations arose, of which, in a letter, 
 written to me about this time, he thus feelingly 
 complained : " The father of one of my pupils 
 lately took upon himself to address to me a sort of 
 language which I was not disposed to brook ; for I 
 am proud, you know ; a mighty good sort of a 
 man, but of no great amplitude or elevation of 
 mind, he thought fit to descant much on my 
 pecuniary obligations to him. I found myself 
 obliged to tell him that I did not desire any man
 
 XXIV MEMOIRS OF 
 
 to send his son to me who did not think the obli- 
 gation perfectly mutual ; and this unexpected and 
 incomprehensible remark producing language more 
 affronting still, I added, that I should feel uneasy 
 in having the care of a pupil whose father did not 
 feel entire confidence and satisfaction ; and, as that 
 did not seem to be the case with him, I wished him 
 to remove his son. The lad and I parted on the 
 best and most friendly terms ; he did all he could 
 to induce his father to relent, but in vain : he will 
 speak kindly and gratefully of me. I have also 
 lost another pupil. I have neither room nor dis- 
 position to enlarge on the very unhandsome man- 
 ner in which I have been treated in this case. The 
 fact is this ; my having an usher gives offence. It 
 is to no purpose to observe, that if I be fit to be 
 trusted at all, I am fit to be trusted with the choice 
 of an assistant, and that I know best whether my 
 assistant answers my purpose or not. Education 
 being one of those subjects which every body un- 
 derstands intuitively, my experience and skill go 
 for nothing in this matter; and, except I will do 
 every thing myself, I am not to be confided in. I 
 expect more attacks of this sort, and have no doubt, 
 entre nous, that my numbers will dwindle, perhaps 
 rapidly : so let them ; I will have an assistant as 
 long as I am persuaded in conscience I want one ; 
 and when I have no more boys than I can abso-
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXV > 
 
 lutely attend to in every point myself, I will dis- 
 miss him." I have indulged myself in this long 
 extract, not so much to show the situation, as the 
 feelings, of the man ; but he nevertheless continued 
 to take pupils for above ten years more, and at 
 last relinquished them with regret, so thoroughly 
 does use grow into a second nature. At the time 
 the complaints just alluded to were made, Mr. 
 Forby had added to his very important duties at 
 home more than one of a public nature, which, 
 however they might contribute to his importance 
 in the scale of society, were but little calculated to 
 extend the sphere of his real usefulness; and he 
 soon felt the burthen oppressive. In writing to 
 me upon 'the subject in 1 803, he says, " Indeed, 
 till you have experienced the heavy drudgery of an 
 acting Justice, Deputy Lieutenant, and Commis- 
 sioner of the Land Tax, one of two on whom the 
 burthen of a large district lies, you will not readily 
 conceive the fatigue they cause to the mind. Of 
 the fatigue of my daily domestic occupations you 
 are a competent judge : this is to be added to the 
 other; and, when I have left home soon after 
 breakfast, and return at 5 o'clock to a solitary din- 
 ner, which I abhor, with my head full of parish 
 rates, surveyor's accounts, vagrants, rnn-away- 
 husbands, assaults, petty larcenies, militia lists and 
 VOL. i. c
 
 XXVI MEMOIRS OF 
 
 substitutes, tax duplicates and distress warrants, 
 some or all of these jumbled together in a horrid 
 confusion ; and, my dinner dispatched, sit down to 
 have my aching head split by prosaic verses, bald 
 themes, or abominable lessons, tell me is it wonder- 
 ful if I take up any slight amusement that lies in 
 my way, kick off my shoes, and lounge by the fireside, 
 or try to win sixpence of my mother at cribbage ? " 
 I have already spoken cursorily of Mr. Forby as 
 a scholar, and upon this point it were of course as 
 easy as it were agreeable for me to dilate. Whe- 
 ther he was what would in the present day be re- 
 garded as a profound and critical Grecian, I can- 
 not presume to consider myself competent to de- 
 cide. I have heard Dr. Parr say that he was not ; 
 but every one who knew that most learned and 
 extraordinary man, knows that his judgment was so 
 affected by strong and unchecked feeling, that im- 
 plicit reliance was by no means to be placed upon 
 his opinions, when the object of them was an indi- 
 vidual who might by any accident be brought into 
 collision with himself, or who was opposed to 
 his favourite doctrines. That Mr. Forby was far 
 from a contemptible scholar may, I flatter myself, 
 fairly be inferred from a " Dissertation upon the 
 different uses of the middle Verb in Greek," writ- 
 ten when he had scarcely attained to the age of
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXV11 
 
 twenty. This Dissertation, addressed to his friend 
 the Rev. Charles Davy, the present rector of Bark- 
 ing, in Suffolk, displays extensive reading and great 
 ingenuity; and, if it is not entirely satisfactory, I 
 will venture to say that its not being so is in no 
 small degree attributable to the subject itself. It 
 was printed by Mr. Davy's father, himself a Suffolk 
 clergyman and of the same name, in two volumes 
 of " Letters upon Subjects of Literature," a work 
 full of erudition, strong sense, good feeling, and 
 genuine piety, but by no means known as it de- 
 serves, being principally devoted to one of those 
 topics the most difficult to be explained and under- 
 stood, the Music of the Greeks. For the same gen- 
 tleman Mr. Forby afterwards composed the follow- 
 ing epitaph, which, in speaking of his classical at- 
 tainments, cannot be considered out of place, as 
 serving to display them in another point of view. 
 It has never, I believe, appeared in print,* and in 
 sending it to me he observed, that nobody would 
 know whence it came, indeed that he was very diffi- 
 dent of his skill in these matters : 
 CAROLUS DAVY, A. M. 
 Rector hujus ecclesiae, 
 et ecclesiae de Topcroft in com. Norf. 
 
 * I do not even know if it was ever used for the purpose for which 
 it was designed 5 for Mr. Forby at the same time sent another, which 
 it is probable, was preferred, as being much shorter ; or probably his 
 advice was adopted, to take one in English, in preference to either.
 
 XXV111 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 vir bonus, plus, ingetiiosus, eruditus, 
 verae Religionis et studiis et moribus cultor, 
 
 artium elegantiorum subtilis judex, 
 doctrinarum quoque severiorum non mediocriter peritus, 
 
 Paralysi correptus, 
 vita; aerumnosae tsedium, 
 aegro et debilitate corpore, 
 
 sed mente inconcussa, 
 
 sex annos fortiter et pie perpessus est j 
 
 altero tainen et saeviore ictu 
 
 afflictus necdum oppressus, 
 
 egregiis animi dotibus per alterum sexennium superstes, 
 
 tandem occubuit 
 
 octavo die Apr. An. Dom. M.DCC.XCVII, 
 
 septuagesimum et quintum annum agens. 
 
 Talem virum dum ademptum flemus, 
 
 tantis ercptum malis kutamur. 
 
 Even those who have read Mr. Davy's Letters 
 may be ignorant that the Dissertation just men- 
 tioned was written by Mr. Forby; for it is only 
 signed with his initials, and his name is not once 
 mentioned in the work. Nothing more of his 
 classic compositions was ever printed. I wish they 
 had been; for I am sure they would have done 
 him credit. Of my own knowledge I can venture 
 fearlessly to affirm that it would be difficult to find 
 any man who was more sensibly alive to the beau- 
 ties of style, especially in poetry, and that few were 
 more conversant with the most esteemed authors of 
 Greece and Rome. His memory was stored, his
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. 
 
 mind was tinctured, and his conversation was en- 
 riched with them : he studied them himself with 
 intense delight, and he equally delighted in des- 
 canting upon the varied excellencies of each to his 
 pupils. Nor were the seeds always scattered upon 
 ungrateful soil; for, of the comparatively small 
 number of those educated under his care, the names 
 of three are to be found upon the rolls of fame at 
 Cambridge, as distinguished in their academical 
 career by the highest of classical honours, the hav- 
 ing obtained the Chancellor's medal. He was no 
 less conversant with the classical writers of our own 
 country, among whom, as Theocritus, Horace, and 
 Virgil, among the ancients, he had studied Chau- 
 cer, Shakspeare, and Pope, with particular atten-r 
 tion, and had often amused himself with annotating 
 upon them. But every memorandum of this de<- 
 scription appears to have perished with him, as did 
 his correspondence, whence I might otherwise have 
 drawn curious and copious materials for this Me- 
 moir, for the present scantiness of which I cannot 
 too much apologize. 
 
 The favourite amusement of Mr. Forby's leisure 
 hours was the study of Botany and Architectural 
 Antiquities, the one naturally congenial to a mind 
 accustomed no less by taste than by duty to " look 
 through nature up to Nature's God," nor like the 
 c3
 
 XXX MEMOIRS OF 
 
 brutes that perish, content " pinguescere glandibus, 
 neque arborem aspicere unde ceciderit fructus;" 
 the other scarcely less naturally springing from the 
 habit of conversing with the authors of days long 
 past. To botany he was more particularly attached 
 during the time which I spent with him; and it was 
 no less my pleasure and my pride to accompany 
 him in his botanical rambles, than it is at present 
 to acknowledge that I am indebted to his precepts 
 and example for any proficiency which I may have 
 myself made in this delightful pursuit. The follow- 
 ing extract will tend to give some idea of the ar- 
 dour with which he cultivated it : " Be it known 
 that I feel myself more eager and alert about 
 botany now than I have ever done. Almost every 
 day since my return home I have done something. 
 Do not, however, suppose that I have done much, 
 and am speedily coming forth to immortalize my- 
 self by new discoveries. Remember how miserably 
 low my collection is, even in common plants, and 
 in what confusion. I have stumped into that ex- 
 quisite spot, Shouldham Common, and made dis- 
 coveries: none, indeed, extremely rare: among 
 them Teucrium Scorodonia on the edge of a fen- 
 ditch, very luxuriant and shrubby; Hypericum 
 humifasum and Galium procumbens. Apropos : not 
 the Galium spurium ; where does it grow ? I have
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXXl 
 
 for you a specimen of Orobus tuberosus and Lathy- 
 rus dphaca. Oenanthe crocata I have found for 
 you ; but it dries most intractably. I wish you 
 would gather me two or three dozen seeds of Ononis 
 repens : I have two reasous ; I should like to sow 
 it in my garden, to try how it will keep its charac- 
 ter ; and I wish to compare its seeds with those of 
 the other two species, if such they be, which I find 
 abundantly here. I am in some hopes of detecting 
 a specific difference between arvensis and spinosa 
 in the seeds. If this occult difference be ascer- 
 tained, then are the thorns a sufficient prima facie 
 character, and the business is done at once." 
 
 The letter just quoted was written prior to the 
 year 1798, at which time Mr. Forby was elected a 
 Fellow of the Linnaean Society, the only literary 
 or scientific distinction which he ever obtained. 
 His decided taste for antiquities commenced subse- 
 quently to that period, and had its origin in the 
 comparative failure of his eye-sight, which to a 
 great degree disqualified him for botany. " You 
 have heard, it seems," he says to me in 1805, " of 
 my lately acquired taste for antiquities. It is im- 
 possible to say how much I am amused by it. 
 Never did I examine a new plant found at length, 
 at the expence of much fatigue, with more delight. 
 The plain fact is this ; my eyes are by no means
 
 XXX11 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 good enough to be trusted with the examination of 
 microscopic objects ; and it is a very foolish thing to 
 play tricks with eyes. I am therefore come to a sort 
 of stand still in botany. Architectural antiquity fell 
 in my way accidentally, and I much delight in it." 
 Nearly at the same time an application was 
 made to Mr. Forby to assist Mr. Miller, then 
 engaged in reprinting Blomefield's History of 
 Norfolk, with an additional volume, supplying 
 those points in which our county historian is noto- 
 riously deficient, and bringing down the succession 
 of property, &c. to the date of the publication. 
 The proposal was so much to his taste that he 
 would readily have joined any other in the task, 
 though he himself shrank from the responsibility of 
 general editor. On the same ground he resisted a 
 similar application to write an introductory Essay 
 to " Cotman's Architectural Antiquities of the 
 County." " I am very willing," said he, " to com- 
 municate to Mr. Miller any thing I know upon the 
 subject, and I should be truly glad to assist Mr. 
 Cotman, who was lately for a day or two in my 
 house, and to whom I pointed out several things in 
 the neighbourhood, with which he will enrich his 
 collection. I am much pleased with what he has 
 done : so far as I have been able to follow him, he 
 is very accurate, a main point with all who design
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXXlll 
 
 for your antiquaries, who are humdrum matter-of- 
 fact folks, very fond of accurately discriminating, 
 and very much afraid of being led astray by the 
 picturesque. As to Mr. Miller, to tell you the 
 truth, I have occasionally amused myself with an 
 indistinct intention of doing something to serve as 
 .a sort of supplement to the History of Norfolk in 
 that particular in which it is most deficient. Nei- 
 ther Blomefield nor his continuator seems to have 
 had discriminative taste or judgment in architec- 
 tural antiquity. Indeed, how should they? it is in 
 a manner new ground, opened since their time, 
 and indefatigably beaten. Our remains of ancient 
 art (and among them, I believe, an unusual pro- 
 portion of very ancient ones) are yearly dwindling 
 away, by stupid disregard, by perverse innovation, 
 by wanton mischief, and even by dishonest depre- 
 dation. It seems therefore that a man would not 
 waste his time in recording the actual state of 
 things, not with minute descriptions, which would 
 spread into immeasurable length, but as compre- 
 hensively and distinctly as possible. Such a survey 
 would, in a very short time, cease to be a view of 
 the present, and become a history of the past, and 
 would therefore progressively increase in interest 
 and value. I had thought of throwing our 
 Churches into their several classes of round-arched
 
 XXXIV MEMOIRS OF 
 
 style, and three separate orders of pointed-arched, 
 leaving (perhaps a greater number) those unclassed, 
 which bear no certain mark of their age ; under 
 them to mention towers, fonts, crosses, stalls, mo- 
 numents, and other subordinate points: such I 
 mean as are distinct ; to notice briefly the present 
 state and quantum of remains of monastic edifices, 
 and to pay attention to castles, such as Rising; cas- 
 tellated mansions, as Caistor ; and manor houses, as 
 Arminghall. Now, it is plain, that, with a series 
 of engravings to refer to, the two things, conju- 
 rando amicd, would make an interesting publica- 
 tion. But my life is so far advanced that in all 
 probability the idea will end where it has begun. 
 The friendly solicitude you express for my literary 
 character only causes me to smile. You are asked, 
 you tell me, " what has he done ? " And does 
 such a question gall you ? indeed it makes me 
 laugh ; and, let me tell you, a strong spice of con- 
 tempt is mixed with my merriment. The next 
 time the question is proposed, tell the querist (I 
 do not desire to know who it is) he has laboured 
 honestly and, in some cases, successfully, to make 
 others better men and better scholars than himself. 
 But I suppose to do means print : to be sure it is a 
 word of very extensive import, and I think this 
 meaning of it is almost as ludicrous as any of those
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXXV 
 
 which my poor old friend, Dr. Smith, of Caius 
 College, attached to it, who used it on all occasions. 
 Let me tell you that most of the very best teachers, 
 public and private, to whom I am as nothing, have 
 done nothing, because they have had something else 
 to do. I tell you again that I think I could do 
 such a book as I have just mentioned, and it is not 
 impossible but I may. But I also tell you again, 
 as I have told you before, that if I were to do any 
 thing which will really tend to raising my literary 
 character in public, it will be professional. In the 
 mean while, whatever is in private, such let it re- 
 main ; I am satisfied, and read my books, and con- 
 verse with my friends, and write to them now and 
 then, and take my snuff at perfect ease, and ut- 
 terly regardless of the foolish questions which are 
 asked about me by prating puppies, who do not 
 know me, and whom I do not desire to know." 
 
 With this extract I would conclude my remarks 
 upon Mr. Forby's literary pursuits, did I not feel 
 it necessary to say a few words with more parti- 
 cular reference to the volume which this memoir is 
 intended to precede. Deprived as that work has 
 been of its preface, and even of a portion of its in- 
 tended contents, by the sudden death of the author, 
 it is only by his letters, and perhaps only by those 
 addressed to myself, that the full scope of his de-
 
 XXXvl MEMOIRS OF 
 
 sign can be made known. I well remember, when 
 I was his pupil in 1792, the interest he took in col- 
 lecting specimens of what he called the Doric dia- 
 lect of his parishioners. The first allusion which 
 I find to the subject in our correspondence, is in 
 1809, on the occasion of my sending him Jamie- 
 son's Scottish Dictionary. " Thank you," says he, 
 " again and again for this book. I have really never 
 met with so agreeable a Scotchman. It would have 
 answered to have hired a cart to bring him. What- 
 ever becomes of his hypothesis that English and 
 Scottish are distinct from each other, and co-de- 
 scendants of Anglo-Saxon and other Gothic 
 tongues, to which I think objections may be taken, 
 it is certain there is a much stronger family like- 
 ness than I could have expected between the Cale- 
 donian and the Icenian languages. Of about 1300 
 or 1400 words, which I have from time to time col- 
 lected, I find above 250 in Jamieson. If ever I 
 were to methodize and discuss and print my collec- 
 tion, this comparison would form a valuable part 
 of it, and would strongly illustrate what I have al- 
 ways thought." 
 
 The idea of methodizing, discussing, and print- 
 ing, here casually mentioned, appears from this 
 time forward to have continually occupied a place 
 in Mr. Forby's mind, and gradually to have ac-
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXXV11 
 
 quired " decided form and feature." Reference is 
 made to it in the greater number of the letters 
 which I received from him. In June 18&1 he en- 
 tered upon the subject more at large. " In the 
 long evenings and some of the foul days in winter," 
 he says, " I may probably prepare myself to talk to 
 you to some purpose on my collection of Icenisms. 
 It is certainly very copious, but in a state of such 
 confusion and illegibility that it would be to no 
 purpose whatsoever to give you the perusal of it, 
 which you seem to wish. I agree with you that 
 such collections are not only curious but useful, and 
 might be made of public and general interest ; are, 
 in fact, worth reading ; and too good to be left for 
 an executor or administrator to throw into the fire 
 among other waste papers. And certainly that is 
 likely to be their fate, if they be not arranged by the 
 collector himself; for nobody else would be able, 
 if he were both willing and qualified. On looking 
 into my farrago, I find myself in possession of not 
 fewer than 2000 words and phrases. Some of them, 
 no doubt (say 500, but I think it is saying too much,) 
 might be classed as instances under general observ- 
 ations on pronunciation, perversion of authentic 
 words, &c. ; but the rest would be fair provincial- 
 isms, to be arranged in alphabetical order, ex- 
 plained, derived, &c. Now, if I were ever to get 
 VOL. i. d
 
 * .Xviii MEMOIRS OF 
 
 them into order, it would be my main object to ex- 
 plain and derive as much as possible : to prove 
 them to have been legitimate parts of the English 
 language, in a now obsolete state of it. I have a 
 very considerable number of etymologies, chiefly 
 from Somner, Junius, Skinner, and Jamieson. I 
 find a prodigious deal of Saxon and the connected 
 Northern languages. I am most to seek in French 
 derivations, of which I suspect many that I cannot 
 ascertain. Cotgrave indeed furnishes me some 
 good ones, and the Norman Dictionary a few more; 
 but this Dictionary was compiled for the especial 
 use of lawyers, to enable them to understand old 
 statutes, pleadings, deeds, &c., while all legisla- 
 tive, forensic, and what we now call diplomatic bu- 
 siness, was conducted in that language ; so that it 
 only incidentally contains the name of common 
 things, and general vernacular or vulgar phraseo- 
 logy. Our great strength certainly lies in Saxon : 
 I have a notion our Icenian ancestors got no im- 
 portant share of those " integra verborum plaustra," 
 which Chaucer is absurdly said to have introduced, 
 writing, forsooth, his popular poems in a language 
 fresh imported, and which consequently nobody 
 could understand. When I cannot get deriva- 
 tions, I put down authorities ; some from Chaucer, 
 Shakspeare, and the writers of former times who
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. XXXIX 
 
 have been raked out of their ashes. This at least 
 proves antient usage. Indeed this tracing back 
 seems the only way to turn such collections to use. 
 Those who have previously made them, Grose for 
 instance, seem to be satisfied with merely giving a 
 catalogue of the words they have picked up, as 
 they picked them up, without caring what they 
 were." 
 
 With only one more extract I will close what 
 remains to be said respecting the Icenian Glossary. 
 The extract in question contains internal evidence 
 of having been written* shortly before Mr. Forby's 
 death. He had been telling me that he had sent a 
 sample of his vocabulary to our mutual excellent 
 friend the Rev. George Turner, of Kettleburgh, 
 and he proceeds to say, " To him and to you I am 
 under different sorts of obligation ; to you for black- 
 letter, 8cc. and to him for large and valuable con- 
 tributions of materials. He and I agree exactly in 
 our conception of what ought to be done ; and we 
 have exchanged many letters, in which he has sent 
 me his approbation of this small part of my task in 
 terms much stronger than I looked for. And yet, 
 in reading what he writes over and over again, I 
 am obliged to believe that he means what he says, 
 and that our coincidence of opinion upon this sub- 
 ject produces his approbation. I had better, I
 
 Xl MEMOIRS OF 
 
 think, give you the outline of what is intended. 
 The title will be this, or something to the same 
 effect, written out not in form but so as to econo- 
 mize room, " A General View of the popular East 
 Anglian Dialect of the English Language, as it ex- 
 isted in the last twenty years of the Eighteenth 
 Century, and still exists in what has hitherto passed 
 of the Nineteenth Century, consisting of, first, an 
 Introduction and three preliminary Essays, on the 
 origin and progress, on the principal characteristics 
 of pronunciation, and on the chief peculiarities of 
 grammar in that dialect : secondly, a Vocabulary, 
 with etymologies, ancient authorities, modern coin- 
 cidences, occasional explanations, and examples of 
 usage : thirdly, an Appendix containing such mat- 
 ters as could not be conveniently arranged under 
 any leading words, as proverbial phrases, anoma- 
 lous sayings, memorial reliques, quaint similes, su- 
 perstitious notions, or customs, still existing or 
 scarcely extinct, as far as they are connected with 
 language. With a concluding Essay on the re- 
 markable and almost universal prevalence of An- 
 glo-Saxon Nomenclature in the Topography of 
 East Anglia. By a Native East Anglian. ' Anti- 
 quam exquirite matrem.' This, I think, gives you 
 a farther insight than you have had before; and the 
 extent is greater than you suppose, certainly
 
 THE REV. K. FOIIBY. . xli 
 
 greater than I originally contemplated. No such 
 view, as far as I know, has yet been taken of pro- 
 vincial or popular English ; and, as many of the 
 materials are undeniably curious, if they be tole- 
 rably put together, it must be an accession to 
 English Literature in one particular part of it. 
 Whatever may be thought of its importance, it 
 cannot fail to illustrate the history of the language. 
 Now let me tell you generally what has been done. 
 The introduction and preliminary matter, as far as 
 the mode of pronunciation ; grammar, not put to- 
 gether yet, but plenty of materials, though at pre- 
 sent, " rudis indigestaque moles." In the vocabu- 
 lary, I have come to the end of R. For the appen- 
 dix I have very considerable materials, but have 
 begun no arrangement ; indeed for every part there 
 will be need of much revision, correction, omission, 
 and in some respects new disposition ; but I have 
 the great comfort that what I have done is to a cer- 
 tain degree a <xou <rr ; and my hope is to have all 
 my prefatory matter and all my vocabulary ready 
 in three months time, when I purpose visiting you." 
 The three months passed, the visit was paid, and 
 the incompletion of the work afforded but another 
 proof of the " vanity of human wishes and human 
 expectations !" 
 
 Having thus spoken of Mr. Forby generally, and 
 d3
 
 Xlli MEMOIRS OF 
 
 as a man of letters, and more particularly in refer- 
 ence to this work, a short but most pleasing por- 
 tion of my task remains, and one which I might 
 aptly preface with the Virgilian " paullo majora 
 canamus." I allude to the moral character of the 
 man. On this subject I feel I cannot do better than 
 adopt, with a few alterations, the eulogium pro- 
 nounced by one of the most accomplished scholars 
 of the age upon another friend of mine, deceased 
 just twenty years ago; and I appeal with the full- 
 est confidence to every one who knew Mr. Forby, 
 whether what was said by Mr. Mathias of Mr. 
 Nicholls, may not with the strictest truth be ap- 
 plied to him. 
 
 " Of his high and important professional duties 
 he was neither unmindful nor neglectful. He was 
 regular in the discharge of his sacred offices as a 
 clergyman in his parish in which he constantly re- 
 sided. There was a peculiar propriety and deco- 
 rum in his manner of reading ; and in his sermons 
 he was eloquent, impressive, affecting, and always 
 perspicuous. To the poor his house was ever 
 open ; and not only were they benefited by his pre- 
 cepts and example, but they were sure to find a 
 friend in their need, a comforter in their sorrows, 
 and a benefactor and physician in the hour of ill- 
 ness. He loved his country, he loved her laws, her
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. xliii 
 
 ordinances, her institutions, her religion, and her 
 government; for he knew that they have made and 
 still make England to be what it is. He abhorred 
 the troubler of the state, the spurious reformer, the 
 obstreperous tyrannic demagogue, and the disor- 
 ganizing sophist. He dreaded also the influence 
 and the principles of the Romish Church; and, 
 however they may be softened or explained away 
 by modern sophists, he deprecated their encourage- 
 ment or their revival amongst us; but he loved tha t 
 toleration and freedom, which the Church and 
 Constitution of England, steering between opposite 
 extremes, grant with evangelical discretion to every 
 sect of Christians : in a few words, ' nullius obscu- 
 ravit gloriam, nullius obstitit commodis, nullius 
 obstrepuit studiis, dignitates non ambivit, qugestuni 
 non venatus est.' " 
 
 The same resemblance which thus prevailed in 
 general traits of character was very strikingly 
 marked in a particular one, filial piety to their mo- 
 thers. In that sacred and bounden duty which is 
 owing from a son to a parent they were alike emi- 
 nently exemplary. Both lost their fathers at a 
 very early period of life ; and both were not only 
 singularly affectionate, unremitting and unvaried 
 in their attention and reverential attachment to 
 their widowed mothers, but devoted themselves to
 
 xliv MEMOIRS OF 
 
 celibacy, that they might the more entirely perform 
 that duty. Both too had the satisfaction of seeing 
 their mothers live under their roof to a very ad- 
 vanced age. Mr. Forby lost his but one year be- 
 fore his own death at the age of ninety-three, 
 favoured beyond the common lot of humanity, not 
 so much in prolonged existence, as in having been 
 allowed to preserve the entire possession of her 
 faculties to a period so far exceeding the ordinary 
 life appointed to man. I make no apology for sub- 
 joining a portion of his letter to me upon the sub- 
 ject of her death ; for, as I am sure that the sen- 
 timents there expressed, will at once be felt to be 
 highly honourable to the writer, and to be the ge- 
 nuine effusions of an unsophisticated heart, so I am 
 persuaded that the greater part of my readers will 
 regard them with a peculiar pleasure, at the respon- 
 sive glow in their own bosoms, which recognizes 
 the existence of similar feelings in themselves. 
 11 You touch me sensibly," says he, " in the exact 
 conception and recollection you have of the nature 
 of my domestic protection of my venerable mother, 
 and of her gentle and beneficent character. But 
 of the origin and extent of that more than usually 
 close and lasting connection of parent and child 
 you can know nothing ; and there are circumstances 
 which strengthen the case very much. Almost
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. xlv 
 
 from my earliest childhood I was sensible of her 
 sorrows and sufferings, and of the patience and 
 calmness with which she endured them. Reduced, I 
 may say, to poverty by the misconduct of my unfor- 
 tunate father, she and her family were indeed relieved 
 and supported by near connections on either side ; 
 but on both sides she had to deal with harsh and 
 ungentle spirits, who knew not, or would not know, 
 how to treat a mind so mild and benign as hers ; 
 and who, in the very acts of their kindness, made 
 her feel much bitterness of spirit. Among my very 
 earliest recollections is a resolution to take charge 
 of my mother ; perhaps at as early an age as I was 
 capable of entertaining such a thought. I availed 
 myself of the very first opportunity, stopping short 
 in my probably more promising career in College, 
 and accepting a small benefice, with the curacy 
 and little parsonage-house at Barton. There be- 
 gan your knowledge of us ; from that time we en- 
 joyed together the moderate comforts and conve- 
 niences of life, certainly not unmixed with its cares 
 and sorrows; but tempering and alleviating them 
 to each other. I am persuaded that I both cheered 
 and lengthened her life ; and I am sure that she 
 soothed and calmed many vexations and anxieties 
 to me. We lived together in that mutual and 
 tender attachment, of which you are so sensible,
 
 Xlvi MEMOIRS OF 
 
 more years than could have been calculated ; and 
 at length we are separated by a sickness and death 
 borne in a manner most consonant to the whole 
 tenor of her life ; that euQavcuria, about which proud 
 philosophy prates, but which only humble simple 
 Christianity effects. And now, besides the high 
 and holy hope of meeting again, which cannot and 
 must not be indulged without trembling, does not 
 all I have said tend to suggest much consolation ? 
 And there is another consideration which also yields 
 much of it, that my earnest wish (though I never 
 dared to make it my prayer) that I might not leave 
 her behind me in the world, has been accomplished. 
 Yet, after all, I severely feel my loss : even were it 
 not of one so reverenced and beloved, the loss of 
 one's constant companion for thirty-six years, and 
 the consequent total subversion of daily domestic 
 habits during so very large a portion of life, cannot 
 but be painful. This, however, must be overcome, 
 and a new set of habits formed ; but it must be by 
 a very gradual process, and the result of effort." 
 
 With this, I close my memoir : it cannot but be 
 doubted that he who wrote the above, appealing 
 for the truth of what he said to one so well ac- 
 quainted with the circumstances, was a good son ; 
 and to be a good son involves in itself the being 
 a good man ; for, independently of the command
 
 THE REV. R. FORBY. xlvii 
 
 from Heaven, that we should "honour our pa- 
 rents," what Cicero so beautifully said of our coun- 
 try is hardly less applicable to filial love, that 
 " omnes omnium charitates mater amplectitur." 
 Though many examples therefore of the virtue of 
 the man occur to me, to multiply them were but to 
 weaken what has been already adduced. 
 
 Again, then, to borrow the words of Mr. Mathias, 
 " while I am conscious that my pen has been 
 guided by a pious and disinterested affection, I 
 trust that those friends into whose hands these few 
 pages may fall, will either approve or excuse this 
 little memorial of a most valuable man, whom I 
 loved and esteemed while living, and whose depar- 
 ture I most seriously and most deeply regret." 
 
 D. T.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 FROM a writer who offers to the public a volume on 
 a Provincial Dialect, and ventures to announce his in- 
 tention of confirming, by authority and etymology, the 
 strange words and phrases he is about to produce, some 
 introductory explanation of his design may reasonably 
 be required. The very mention of such an under- 
 taking is likely to be received with ridicule, contempt, 
 or even disgust ; as if little or nothing more could be 
 expected, than from analysing the rude jargon of some 
 semi-barbarous tribe ; as if, being merely oral, and ex- 
 isting only among the unlettered rustic vulgar of a 
 particular district, Provincial Language were of little 
 concern to general readers, of still less to persons of 
 refined education, and much below the notice of phi- 
 lologists. 
 
 However justly this censure may be pronounced on 
 a fabricated farrago of cant, slang, or what has more 
 recently been denominated flash language^ spoken by 
 vagabonds, mendicants, and outcasts; by sharpers, 
 swindlers, and felons ; for the better concealment of 
 their illegal practices, and for their more effectual se- 
 paration from the " good men and true " of regular and 
 decent society; it certainly is by no means applicable to 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 any form whatsoever of a National Language, consti- 
 tuting the vernacular tongue of any province of that 
 nation. Such forms, be they as many and as various 
 as they may, are all, in substance, remnants and deri- 
 vatives of the language of past ages, which were, at 
 some time or other, in common use, though in long 
 process of time they have become only locally used and 
 understood. 
 
 Such is the general character of Provincial Language t 
 and to prove it on behalf of a very considerable district 
 of this country is the object of the present undertaking t 
 Whatever may be the value of the following collection 
 of provincialisms (which is for the public to determine) ? 
 it is undeniably far more copious than has ever yet been 
 made by any of the few writers who have given their 
 attention to the subject, and the discussion of it is also 
 much more particular. It is desirable that the reader 
 should conceive as clear a notion as can be previously 
 conveyed to him of the contents of this Vocabulary. 
 The best way of communicating it will be in a short 
 account of the origin and progress of the present col- 
 lection, and of the determination, at length formed, of 
 submitting it to the public. The first hint was sug- 
 gested to the author by observing, in his occasional 
 perusal of some of the old poets, and especially Shak- 
 speare, many words and phrases in current use among 
 his rustic neighbours, and therefore readily intelligible 
 to him, though they seemed very much to puzzle the 
 annotators. Indeed, after much prolix and elaborate 
 criticism, a difficulty often remained as it was found, 
 which an East Anglian clown would have solved at 
 first sight or hearing. The commentaries themselves
 
 INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 afford more opportunities of the same sort, in the mul- 
 titude of quotations from old plays, poems, and pam- 
 phlets, not likely to be otherwise brought within the 
 reach of general readers. 
 
 These archaisms, found to be still alive, though sup- 
 posed utterly extinct, were thought worthy to be 
 noted ; at first in the margin of the book, but that be- 
 ing found inconvenient, a sort of common- place book 
 was soon provided, and kept always at hand, to receive 
 such additions as might offer themselves, lest matter so 
 easily evaporable should escape. The collection in- 
 creased ; and, together with that increase, the wish to 
 enlarge it still farther. An additional inducement was 
 felt to dip into old books or pamphlets, in verse or 
 prose, as opportunity presented. Living words and 
 phrases were also noted with more vigilance and atten- 
 tion. This spirit of collecting was not, indeed, always 
 and equally active through so many years, but it was 
 never entirely dormant. Upon the whole the accu- 
 mulation became considerable. And not inconsi- 
 derable were the opportunities and facilities of en- 
 larging it. The author has announced himself a na- 
 tive East Angle. In fact, he has passed all his days, 
 now not a few, within the boundaries of this an- 
 cient kingdom. He was not sent out of it for his 
 school education. He was for some few years on the 
 foundation of a college in our East Anglian Univer- 
 sity. He passed a few of his earlier years in Suffolk, 
 and during the large remainder he has resided in Nor- 
 folk ; always an inhabitant of villages, and by natural 
 disposition, as well as by his profession, led into habits 
 of familiar conversation with persons of different ranks 
 in village society. Some months ago, a few literary
 
 4 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 friends, acquainted with the existence and the nature 
 of his philological stores, repeated, with more earnest- 
 ness, representations often made before, that by a little 
 necessary preparation and arrangement they might 
 be made no unacceptable offering to the public ; at 
 least to that proportion of it which is likely to feel 
 an interest in any light thrown upon the history of our 
 language. One of those friends who had long amused 
 himself by forming a similar collection, principally in 
 the county of Suffolk, powerfully supported his repre- 
 sentation by frankly communicating it. It will readily 
 be conceived that the two collections in great measure 
 coincided. The additions, however, thus made to the 
 original stock, were very considerable. If it should 
 not be thought necessarily to result from this state- 
 ment, the author thinks proper explicitly to declare, 
 that every individual word and phrase inserted in the 
 following Vocabulary has been in actual use within the 
 time mentioned in the title-page. For the great majo- 
 rity of them he is himself responsible. To the accuracy 
 of his principal contributor, or rather coadjutor, he 
 implicitly trusts. And, with respect to those other 
 contributions, which at different times have been inci- 
 dentally received from many other quarters, he has 
 been very minute and particular in his inquiry. No- 
 thing has been admitted on vague rumour, or helped 
 out by fancy. 
 
 But this summary account of the origin, progress, 
 and completion of the East Anglian Vocabulary, does 
 not seem to be all that is required as introductory to 
 it, and explanatory of the true design and purport of 
 the work. The author hopes he shall not be thought
 
 INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 to overwhelm it with introduction. He will be on his 
 guard lest he do so ; but he is well aware that he is 
 about to incur some risk of that sort. It is the duty, 
 however, of every advocate to make out the best case 
 he can for his client, though he be obliged sometimes 
 to run into considerable length. The plaintiffs in this 
 case, claim to be legitimately descended from various 
 branches of a very ancient and honourable family. 
 Like many other members of good families, by the 
 changes and chances of a long course of years, they 
 have fallen in the world, and are now excluded from 
 that society in which they had a right to appear, and 
 utterly hopeless of being restored to it. But they are 
 still laudably tenacious of the honour of their high de- 
 scent, and are anxious the world should know, that, 
 though degraded, they do not feel themselves dis- 
 graced ; and still retain so much decent pride, as for- 
 bids them to associate and level themselves with a vul- 
 gar rabble of blackguards and raggamuffins, of spuri- 
 ous, ignoble, or unknown extraction. If their advocate 
 repeat what has been said before, and perhaps better 
 said, he ventures to hope that, he shall at least exhibit 
 some things in a new light ; that nothing will be found po- 
 sitively "stale and unprofitable," or which has not a pro- 
 per and sufficient bearing on the subject. If, on the con- 
 trary, he should say, what does not, in some particular 
 points, coincide with what has been said by writers of 
 the highest authority, he trusts that he shall never ap- 
 pear to violate the respect due to them from him ; and 
 is ready most frankly to acknowledge, that it was the 
 strong light thrown upon the subject by them, which 
 may have led him, in some instances, to somewhat
 
 6 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 different conclusions. And he persuades himself it 
 will not be unobserved, that though he is in private 
 duty bound only to vindicate his native dialect from 
 the opprobrious charge of barbarous fabrication, he 
 will at the same time, be virtually offering a like de- 
 fence of Provincial English in general. With a view 
 to making our introductory matter, as orderly and 
 as distinctly intelligible as may be, and to confining it 
 within due bounds, it is proposed to arrange it in the 
 form of three Preliminary Essays. But before we 
 enter upon them, it is proper, if not necessary, to con- 
 vey some general notion of what is meant by the ety- 
 mologies and authorities which have been mentioned. 
 The first of these words may possibly be thought of 
 ominous import, as intimating the danger of bewilder- 
 ing a reader in those intricate mazes of meaning, in 
 which etymologists delight to expatiate. The author 
 hastens to give assurance that no such danger is to be 
 apprehended. Mr. Whiter may trace through half 
 the languages of mankind, the " primordia vocum," 
 till he finds them at length on the very threshold 
 of Babel. While it is impossible not to admire the 
 boldness and magnitude of his plan ; the copiousness 
 and variety of erudition, which, with perfect facility, 
 he brings to bear upon it ; the acuteness of his reason- 
 ings, and the aptness of his illustrations ; we must con- 
 sider it as far beyond our limited scope, and entirely 
 beside our humble and modest purpose. Mr. Home 
 Tooke may, with consummate skill, dissect particles till 
 he lays open their very component fibres. We may be 
 delighted with the " Diversions of Purley," and grate- 
 fully acknowledge the utility of that work, to those
 
 INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 who are desirous of becoming acquainted with the mi- 
 nutest niceties in the structure of their mother tongue. 
 Yet still we must consider it as of very little concern 
 to us in our plain straight forward inquiry. All we 
 have to do is, simply, to refer certain words in a mo- 
 dern language, to what we conceive to be their arche- 
 types in an ancient one. This easy and direct process 
 is no more than to take some East Anglian word, in 
 actual modern use, and to trace its identity or near con- 
 nexion with some word in the Anglo-Saxon language, 
 as that language is embodied in the great works of 
 Somner and Lye. In case of failure in this attempt, 
 to seek it in some one of the kindred Gothic tongues, 
 or dialects; the Teutonic, Belgic, Islandic, Suio-Gothic, 
 or Danish, * as they are to be found in the works of 
 our old etymologists, Minshevv, Skinner, Junius, &c. 
 or in a great modern etymological work, Dr. Jamie- 
 son's Dictionary of the Scottish Language ; which has 
 very numerous points of coincidence or near connex- 
 ion with our East Anglian. If no direct proof can be 
 found on behalf of a modern word, that it descends 
 from some branch of the Gothic stock ; yet some trace 
 of family likeness may still exist ; some particular 
 combination of letters, perhaps, or other characteristic 
 feature, which may pretty satisfactorily point out its 
 remote ancestry, though the actual pedigree be not 
 
 * It may be proper to observe, that to all the words cited from 
 the old etymologists are invariably affixed the Latin interpretations 
 found with them. This may be taketi as a pledge, that ancient words 
 are not adjusted to our modern ones, merely by sound, or in any other 
 fanciful manuer.
 
 8 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGL1A. 
 
 producible.* If neither positive proof, nor reasonable 
 presumption, can be adduced of such exalted extrac- 
 tion, a word may still be shewn to come of a very an- 
 
 * A particular account of these characteristic marks would be too 
 digressive, if inserted in the text, and too cumbrous in a note. Many 
 of the most important may be found in Wallis's Gram. Ling. Angl. 
 Edit. Bowyer, 1765, pp. 164, c. The learned author says that, of 
 all the languages with which he was acquainted, the Anglo-Saxon 
 abounds most in congruences of sound and sense ; and that in one 
 monosyllable more is often expressed than in other languages by 
 compound or decompound words, or by periphrases. He shews this 
 by comparing certain initial and final combinations of letters, with 
 the ideas generally conveyed by words in which they occur ; and 
 adds examples. The initial combinations are cl. cr. gr. scr. shr. sk. 
 si. sm. sp. sq. at. sir. sw. thr. wr. The final combinations are ash. 
 amll. angl. imll. ing. ingl. ink. inkl. umll. ush. Certainly more might 
 have been given. And these are rather to be considered as a sample, 
 than as an enumeration. On the same principle, an instance or two 
 of these connexions of sound and sense may suffice here, and the 
 reader, who wishes to examine more particularly, may follow the re- 
 ference, given above, to Wallis's Grammar. Words beginning with 
 cL are said to have in general a signification of close contact, adher- 
 ence, or tenacity ; and that those terminating in ash, imply some 
 mode of harshness, or sharpness. An instance of the former may 
 be clammy, of the latter dash, of both jointly clash. To all these 
 words Wallis's observation is applicable. In some, it is not so dis- 
 tinct, or perhaps fails. It is general, not universal. It may be fur- 
 ther observed, that these combinations of letters, whether initial or 
 final, but especially the latter, are peculiar to the northern lan- 
 guages ; and if some of the former be found also in those of southern 
 Europe, it is by no means improbable that they were left there by 
 the Goths in their inroads. So that our words in which they occur, 
 may, in default of proof positive, be reasonably presumed to have de- 
 scended, either directly from our own Anglo-Saxon, or else, more or 
 less indirectly, from some kindred Gothic dialect.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 9 
 
 cient family, long settled in this country, and longer 
 still in some other, from which it came to contribute 
 to the riches of our multifarious tongue. In such cases, 
 also, weight may sometimes be allowed to family like- 
 ness. A word may be thought to have a strikingly 
 French air, yet none of its kindred be found in the old 
 French dictionaries. 
 
 After all, words may sometimes, perhaps very rarely, 
 be found, of which such an etymologist as the author 
 may feel reluctantly constrained to say, that they are 
 " nullis majoribus orta." Still he may be able to 
 shew " vixisse proba, " nay, even " honoribus aucta," 
 and that they were to be seen in the best company, at 
 different times, from five hundred to one hundred 
 years ago.* It seems necessary to fix the lowest limit 
 of antiquity somewhere ; and upon that principle, what 
 the Roman critic says of a writer is here transferred 
 to a word. 
 
 Est vetus atque probum centum quod perficit annos. 
 
 This is all the author means by etymology and autho- 
 
 * The mode of referring to these authorities seems to require 
 some apology. It is as general as possible ; for the most part ouly 
 by initial letters of which a table is prefixed. Very few actual cita- 
 tions are given, excepting those from Shakspeare. The references to 
 Dictionaries must of course be exact, the word itself being a sufficient 
 guide. In all other instances the insufficiency arises necessarily from 
 the mode in which the collection has been made. It was enough for 
 the collector, having satisfied himself, to put down the initial letter or 
 letters of an old author's name, or even o. E. for old English. Now 
 he comes before the public, he has only to express his hope, that his 
 accuracy, under such circumstance* may be trusted. Were it even 
 possible, it would be very tedious and laborious, to go over the 
 ground again, in order to be more precise.
 
 10 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 rity. When he has proved any one of these points, he 
 has done all that can be fairly required of him, as it is 
 all that he has undertaken to perform. He has shewn 
 that his native dialect is genuine English, and was not 
 manufactured at home for private use. And he can- 
 not forbear figuring to himself some plain, unpretend- 
 ing, old fashioned East Anglian yeoman, unmercifully 
 rallied upon his Norfolk or Suffolk talk, by some one 
 very little qualified to correct him, lighting by chance 
 upon this book, and discovering that he speaks a great 
 deal more good English, than either he or his " cor- 
 rector Bestius," was aware of. No doubt he would 
 very naturally express his satisfaction at the discovery; 
 ludicrously enough, perhaps, but more rationally than 
 the Bourgeois, in Moliere, \vho was so astonished and 
 delighted to find that he had been talking prose all his 
 life long.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 On the Origin and Progress of Popular Language, with 
 a particular view to that of East Anglia. 
 
 Quinctilian says that " Consuetude sermonis est con- 
 sensus eruditorum." Many passages to the same pur- 
 port might be cited from many authors, ancient and 
 modern ; but we may rest satisfied with the authority 
 of the great Rhetorician, and take his words as our 
 fundamental proposition. On that foundation stands all 
 Language, provincial as well as national ; popular not 
 less than philosophical or poetical. If a popular Pro- 
 vincial Dialect be avowedly the peculiar subject of 
 discussion, it cannot be considered separately on its 
 own merits, for how shall it be disentangled from the 
 National Language of which it is a part. The most 
 that can be done for it is to have it always in view, and 
 never to lose sight of its peculiar claims to attention. 
 This is what is intended here. 
 
 To imagine that the vulgar fabricate language for 
 their own ordinary use is an absurdity. The}' neither 
 do, nor can think of any such process. They take and 
 use whatsoever is provided for them ; and that provi- 
 sion is made, varied, and improved by the learned of 
 successive ages. From them it goes downward, 
 stamped with authority, which may very properly be
 
 12 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 called classical. A satirical poet, indeed, speaks con- 
 temptuously of 
 
 "The classics of an age which heard of none." 
 
 POPE, Dune. 
 
 It is certainly true that many ages of mankind have 
 passed away without hearing of any classics. Yet all 
 had them. They were unacknowledged because their 
 influence was unperceived, though always efficiently 
 operating. We commonly give the distinctive appel- 
 lation of classic to the great writers of Greece and 
 Rome. It is too confined a term, and does not appear 
 to be of much longer standing in our language than 
 a century. Before that time, the word was used in a 
 much wider sense, comprehending all those who fixed 
 the standard, or set the fashion of language, in any 
 age or country, rude or refined, learned or illiterate. 
 On this point, respect is certainly due to the opinion 
 of Roger Ascham. He says of Chaucer, that he 
 " valued his authority of as high estimation, as he did 
 that of Sophocles or Euripides, in Greek." Chaucer 
 died about 100 years before the birth of Ascham. 
 Within that period, no writer appeared who could pre- 
 tend to any share of the high authority attributed by 
 the great Scholemaster " to the father of English 
 poetry, whose age was certainly a brilliant aera in the 
 history of the English language. Improvement was, 
 however, tacitly progressive during that period, though 
 it be impossible to trace* it stepby step. Contemporary 
 
 " In order to trace with exactness the progress of any language, 
 it seems necessary first, that we should have before us, a continued 
 aeries of authors ; secondly, that those authors should have been 
 approved, as having written at least with purity ; and thirdly, that>
 
 INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 with Ascham, there were writers of indisputably clas- 
 sic authority. On comparing passages of Chaucer's 
 Persone's Tale, or Tale of Melibeus, or of Wickliffe's 
 contemporary Translation of the New Testament, with 
 passages from the writings of Sir Thomas More, Arch, 
 bishop Cranmer, Ascham himself, or even with the 
 homely style of " Maistre Hugh Latymer," it must 
 appear that much improvement had taken place in the 
 construction of English prose. And with respect to 
 poetical composition, we certainly find in the poems 
 of Surry, Wyatt, and Spenser, "versiculos magis fac- 
 tos, et euntes mollius." From that time to this, under 
 a succession of eminent writers, the farther progress 
 of improvement has been uninterrupted ; but it is not 
 necessary here to go into particulars of it. 
 
 It will be more to our purpose, to go back for a 
 while to the age of Chaucer, and from that point of 
 eminence and elevation, take a retrospective* view, 
 
 their writings shonld have been correctly copied. In the English 
 language we have scarce any authors within the first century after 
 the conquest ; of those who wrote before Chaucer, and whose writ- 
 ings have been preserved, we have no testimony of approbation from 
 their contemporaries or successors ; and lastly, the copies of their 
 works, which we have received, are in general so full of inaccuracies, 
 as to make it often very difficult for us to be assured that we are in 
 possession of the genuine words of the author." Tyrwhitt's "Essay 
 on the Language and Versification of Chaucer," London, 1775. The 
 same observations may be extended, in nearly equal force, a century 
 after Chaucer, till the art of printing had not only been discovered, 
 but improved. 
 
 * In this retrospect, the observations quoted from Tyrwhitt in the 
 preceding note, acquire additional force at every step beyond their 
 limit, the Conquest ; till all traces whatsoever are lost in darkness 
 palpable. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 14 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 however indistinct and unsatisfactory it may be, in 
 order to dispatch at once, all that is intended to be 
 said on the present topic of discussion the influence 
 exercised, more or less in all ages, by the learned and 
 refined, on the popular language of their respective 
 times. Our intended retrospect is covered with mists 
 and fogs which soon become quite impenetrable. The 
 writers of those dark ages were all monks ; their sub- 
 jects were almost entirely History, Theology, and 
 Legendary Biography ; and they wrote in barbarous 
 Latin. Those who wrote in their native language, 
 such as it then was, were too few and too far asunder, 
 to constitute any thing like a series of native classics. 
 The only two, perhaps, who can be discerned with 
 tolerable distinctness, are Piers Plowman, and Robert of 
 Gloucester.* If we contrive to look above the mists and 
 clouds which there obstruct our view, we shall find it 
 much brightened in the distance ; a very great distance 
 unquestionably ; for it is only at that of five or six cen- 
 turies that we get sight of Caedmon, andAldhelm,Bede, 
 Alcuin, and Alfred. All these, indeed, were still 
 monks, or educated by monks; but they wrote in their 
 native tongue; and, in the rude ages in which they lived, 
 were exactly what Chaucer and Wicklifte were, when 
 the Saxon language had become English ; and what 
 the illustrious Greek and Roman writers were, in their 
 respective times and countries of greater civility and 
 refinement the arbiters of the language then living. 
 Neither are these great Anglo-Saxon luminaries to be 
 
 * The very few names which might be added, are principally, if 
 not entirely, those of Metrical Chroniclers, as the monk of Gloucester 
 was.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 viewed as having burst forth from chaotic darkness, as 
 having had no predecessors, and as having left at their 
 death, so vast a chasm unoccupied by successors ; but 
 as being the earliest known writers, whose works are 
 in part come down to us, in that language to which we 
 must trace back our own. 
 
 They had a language to work upon, and an ancient 
 one ; though what it was before they had wrought up- 
 on it, we have extremely scanty means, if any at all, 
 of judging. There can be no doubt that they greatly 
 improved what they found, and largely contributed in 
 their days to make their native language the copious 
 and expressive one which it is allowed to have been. 
 The period in which they lived extended, from first to 
 last, nearly through the eighth and ninth centuries. 
 The improvements they effected were therefore suc- 
 cessive. They were all students in monasteries, in 
 which some of them passed all their days; others went 
 forth into public and active life. Few of those reli- 
 gious establishments at that time had libraries and 
 professors. Those which had them were thronged 
 with youth from all quarters. It is not to be supposed, 
 that in those days more than in others, any great pro- 
 portion of students reached considerable eminence in 
 literature ; but they all carried away with them, and 
 diffused among society, some portion of such acquisi- 
 tions as they had made. And it was thus that the 
 learned, in that as in all other ages, without coming in 
 immediate contact with the vulgar, exercised their 
 proper influence in providing language for them. Simi- 
 lar influence, which it is not possible to investigate, 
 had been exercised before, and was exercised after, the
 
 16 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 times of those great men, by inferior agents, in darker 
 times ; though whatever might have been their literary 
 productions, they have either perished, as though they 
 had never been, or, what comes to the same thing, lie 
 yet unknown and unexplored, the prey of moths and 
 mice. In short, whensoever there were any writers, 
 they provided words and phrases to be conveyed di- 
 rectly or indirectly to the talkers. When it happened 
 that there were no writers, the most intelligent talkers 
 might afford some little help to those who were less 
 so. In default of both, if ever that happened, as the 
 mere vulgar would never conceive the idea that their 
 diction needed any mending, nor if they did, would 
 know how to set about mending it, it must even remain 
 stationary till some other classical authority might arise 
 to give it farther improvement. 
 
 On the general fact, hitherto taken for granted, that 
 modern English is the lineal descendant, through many 
 generations, from ancient Anglo-Saxon, few words 
 are necessary, as it is universally admitted. We will 
 only refer to the last chapter of Turner's excellent 
 " History of the Anglo-Saxons," the subject of which 
 is their language. He has adopted a very simple and 
 striking mode of exhibiting the prodigious prevalence 
 of Saxon words in present use, by printing them in a 
 different character from those otherwise derived. Ne- 
 ver were the words of a poet more happily exemplified 
 and illustrated : 
 
 Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem 
 Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus. 
 
 They exhibit the clearest demonstration. He has se- 
 lected passages from the best authors of different ages,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 beginning with Shakspeare, and ending with Samuel 
 Johnson. We will borrow one of those quotations ; 
 which has the double recommendation of being at 
 once the shortest and the strongest. 
 
 " Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and 
 saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, 
 Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died. 
 When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews 
 also weeping which came with her, he groaned in spirit 
 and was troubled, and said, where have ye laid him ? 
 They said unto him, Lord come and see. Jesus wept. 
 Then said the Jews, behold how he loved him." John 
 x. 3236. 
 
 With the exception of proper names (which either 
 retain the same form in all languages, or are varied 
 only by some slight modification) this passage con- 
 tains seventy-two words, nouns, pronouns, verbs, and 
 particles. Of these, all are Saxon, but the two printed 
 in italics, one of which is of Latin, the other of French 
 origin. This is, indeed, the English of the early part 
 of the century before the last. It is above two hun- 
 dred years old. But it is also the English of the pre- 
 sent day. Not one of the words, as they stand in this 
 passage of our New Testament, is either obsolete, or 
 in any degree unusual. If the passages had been trans- 
 lated in our time we should, indeed, very probably 
 have found it less purely Saxon. The passages quoted 
 by Mr. Turner from Robertson, Hume, Gibbon, and 
 Johnson, contain a much greater proportion of words 
 derived from other languages. But, as the author 
 well observes, " we must not conclude that the words 
 which -e not Saxon could not be supplied by Saxon 
 c3
 
 18 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 words. On the contrary, Saxon terms might be sub- 
 stituted for almost all of them." The force of the de- 
 monstration therefore remains unimpaired. 
 
 But, however certain be the proof that such is the 
 origin of a vast majority of the words and phrases in 
 the formed and polished diction of our most eminent 
 writers in different ages, understood and approved 
 wheresoever our language, in those different ages, has 
 been in use, will it be contended that the coarse talk 
 of our common people, the vulgar and colloquial 
 tongue of secluded or almost insulated districts, never 
 heard beyond their respective boundaries, or if they 
 should perchance stray abroad, perfectly unintelligi- 
 ble, and received with ridicule and contempt will it 
 be contended, that this is, to the same extent, de- 
 rivable from the same source ? It is the main object 
 of the following pages, not only to contend, but to 
 prove that it is so. To prove it, as far at least as one 
 of the great branches of the common Saxon stock is 
 concerned. 
 
 It has already been laid down as a principle, that 
 the vulgar are in all ages provided with words and 
 phrases by their betters. And, on due consideration 
 of probabilities, it may farther be asserted, that the 
 populace are likely to keep old ones safe and sound 
 long after they have been forgotten by the followers 
 of new fashions. There are several good reasons to 
 expect this ; first, because they make few migrations ; 
 secondly, because they receive few visits from stran- 
 gers ; very few from those who are likely to have in- 
 fluence on their language by sufficiently intimate con- 
 nexion; thirdly, because new usages are very scantily
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 imported among them in books. For all these reasons, 
 the progress of change will be very slow among the 
 stationary and unlettered vulgar ; among whom many 
 very ancient remnants of genuine old English, or ra- 
 ther of Anglo-Saxon, have remained hitherto un- 
 moved, apparently still immoveable ; some in one dis- 
 trict, some in another, or in more than one, even per- 
 haps, in many. No where, indeed, is the " well of 
 English* undefiled" to be found; but every where 
 some streamlets flow down from the fountain head, re- 
 taining their original purity and flavour, though not 
 relished perhaps by .fastidious palates. None can 
 boast that they retain the language of their early fore- 
 fathers unimpaired, but all may prove that they possess 
 strong traces of it, and even scattered members in 
 their proper forms. It would be absurd, for instance, 
 to say that an East Anglian clown is actually speaking 
 good English, when, to a fine lady, or a well-bred gen- 
 tleman, he seems to be uttering a barbarous jargon. 
 But it may be safely and justly alleged on his behalf, 
 that he has much better authority for a great deal of 
 what he says, ( if he knew where to look for it, and if 
 he could pronounce somewhat better than he does,) 
 than is at all suspected by those who laugh at him, be- 
 cause they have never considered the matter in its 
 proper light. 
 
 * Indeed, what is to be understood by " English undefiled ! " 
 Chaucer, to whom this compliment was paid, wrote a language much 
 mixed and compounded. That of Spenser, who paid it, was still 
 more so, and from the same sources. But what defilements did he 
 suppose it had contracted ? It seems to be no more than a poetical 
 flourish; of which an etymologist can certainly make no use.
 
 20 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 But it is not enough, thus generally and indefinitely, 
 to acknowledge the Anglo-Saxon as the common mo- 
 ther of all the English that has ever been spoken, in 
 every age of our history, in every part of our country, 
 and in every rank of our countrymen. It is farther con- 
 ducive to our purpose, limited as it is, to take as clear and 
 as comprehensive a view as may be gained, without 
 spreading into undue prolixity, of the whole posterity of 
 our " Antiqua Mater," and of the foreign alliances and 
 affinities contracted in different generations of it. 
 
 The Saxons brought their language into this coun- 
 try exactly in the middle of the fifth century. With 
 the particular state and character of it at that time, it 
 it is impossible that any researches can make us ac- 
 quainted. No documents of it are now to be found. 
 This we know, that not many years had elapsed, be- 
 fore those fierce invaders, to whom it belonged, throw- 
 ing off the insidious character of allies, under which 
 they came, had not only occupied the greater part of 
 the country, but had driven out its ancient inhabitants, 
 and replaced them by successive hordes of barbarous 
 invaders from the north-western coasts of Germany.* 
 The whole history of mankind does not afford a 
 stronger, perhaps not so strong, an instance, of the 
 entire conquest and extermination of a whole people 
 by an invading enemy. Of all the proofs of such a 
 conquest, the most cogent and demonstrative is that 
 of language. In our case, the language of the inva- 
 ders so totally f superseded that of the original inha- 
 
 * In little more than a century the country was parcelled out 
 under the Heptarchy, 
 f This has, however, been denied ; and some antiquaries of great
 
 INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 bitant?, as to have soon become, in body and substance, 
 the language of the nation, retaining no more than a 
 very scanty sprinkling of the old British, and even that, 
 in a great proportion of the instances, fairly disputable. 
 The language, thus introduced and extensively esta- 
 blished, is called, by the learned and laborious Dr. 
 Hickes, in his " Thesaurus Veterum Linguarum Sep- 
 tentrionalium," pure Saxon.* He proceeds to consider 
 it in a second stage, as intermixed with Danish words, 
 introduced by the inroads of the Danes ; and in a 
 
 eminence, though (with much deference be it said) not of the high- 
 est authority in the particular department of etymology, have con- 
 tended for the Celtic origin of our language. Mr. Whitaker, the 
 learned historian of Manchester, may be mentioned as an instance. 
 But surely, the chapter of Turner's History of the Anglo-Saxons, 
 may alone be accepted as an ample and all-sufficient refutation of 
 that opinion. 
 
 * Though these nicely defined distinctions be not generally 
 adopted, they are not without their use in disquisitions on ancient 
 languages, or on ancient acts. In the eager pursuit of a favourite 
 object in the dark, it is quite natural, that those who are most earn- 
 estly desirous of discovering it, should persuade themselves that they 
 have caught a light, which others, less sanguine and more cautious, 
 dare not trust. Still they may lead on farther through the gloom 
 than any have gone before. The celebrated author of " Muuimenta 
 Antiqua," who (without a quibble on his name) may justly be de- 
 nominated the Prince of English Antiquaries in an age in which the 
 study of antiquity has been pursued with so much zeal and success, 
 has ventured to discriminate Saxon architecture, as Hickes has divided 
 the language, into three oeras, assigning distinctive characteristics to 
 each. It is to be presumed that very few have embraced his whole 
 system. It is certain that a very great number of judicious antiqua- 
 ries are still of opinion that no certain criteria have yet been esta- 
 blished even between Saxon and Norman architecture. Yet how 
 much light has King in his great work thrown 011 both.
 
 22 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 third, as farther compounded with Norman. Now, 
 without any disposition to question the differences, 
 alleged to be observable at different times, which we 
 have fully admitted to be always probable ; allowing 
 that those differences are fully proved by the several 
 charters cited by Hickes ; not presuming to question 
 the decision of so profound a Saxonist on any philolo- 
 gical point ; we may still venture, on the fair open 
 ground of historical fact or probability, to doubt the 
 accuracy of these formal divisions ; and, however use- 
 ful they may be in some views of the subject, to deny 
 their utility in that which we propose to take. 
 
 And first, of the term pure Saxon. It is not to be 
 conceived that the Anglo-Saxon on its arrival in this 
 country, had any claim to the character, given by the 
 Roman historian to the hardy natives of that country, 
 from a skirt of which it came ; that it was " propria, et 
 sincera, et tantum sui similis." There are reasons very 
 strong at least, if not positively demonstrative, that it 
 was not so. There must always have been great affi- 
 nity among the different languages or dialects (and 
 they seem to have been scarcely more) of common 
 Gothic origin. Our best etymologists, in case of their 
 not* finding an Anglo-Saxon etymon of a modem 
 word, assign one from some other, and perhaps from 
 more than one, of the kindred Gothic tongues already 
 
 * And sometimes, and even not unfrequently, when they can find 
 one. It is by no means uncommon to meet with a choice of deriva- 
 tions, from words hi two or three of the old Northern languages, in 
 addition to the Anglo-Saxon ; words differing from each other, only 
 in a few letters or a single letter perhaps easily commutable, and 
 therefore having all the appearance of mere dialectical varieties.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 enumerated. Who can pretend to account for the 
 introduction into this country of words from those lan- 
 guages ? What events are recorded in the history of 
 the Saxons in this country, which can reasonably ac- 
 count for the adoption of words from more than one 
 of those sources, the Danish } And how far even that 
 may be allowed as an exception, will presently come 
 under consideration. And yet these nominally aliens 
 must have got among us, at some time, or in some 
 manner or other. Otherwise their posterity could not 
 have existed here, as it assuredly does, and is allowed 
 to do, at this day. The inference is unavoidable ; that 
 they were mingled with the Saxon (so far as we are 
 concerned with it) originally. Our Saxon Dictiona- 
 ries, like all other dictionaries of dead languages, have 
 been compiled from the written documents remaining 
 of it, in its different stages, whatsoever they may have 
 been. Those documents are very abundant. Some 
 have been printed, but many more are still in manu- 
 script, and for the most part, likely so to remain. The 
 second volume of Hickes's Thesaurus, less bulky, in- 
 deed, than the first, but still a ponderous tome, con- 
 sists entirely of a catalogue of Anglo-Saxon manu- 
 scripts, preserved in the libraries of the two Univer- 
 sities, in those of private Colleges, of Cathedral 
 Churches, and other repositories. Multitudes of these 
 have been laboriously explored by the great * Saxon 
 
 * Members of the University of Oxford, in which Saxon literature 
 has always been most diligently and successfully cultivated, and is so 
 still. Our acknowledgment of obligation is not to be confined to 
 writers of a former age. In particular it would be unjust, not to 
 comprehend in it, the late translation of the Saxon Chronicle, from
 
 24 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 scholars of a former age, and the result of their la- 
 bours has been a proof that the language was most 
 copious and various. There can be no doubt that much 
 additional proof of the same sort would be found, in 
 the still greater number of manuscripts yet unexa- 
 inined, and by the discovery * of others (and such no 
 doubt there are) not yet inserted in catalogues. The 
 general result of all would probably be, that for those 
 words which we now derive from the kindred f Gothic 
 
 a text amended by collation of manuscripts, enriched with learned 
 notes. And in this work, it would not be less unjust to pass unno- 
 ticed, the literal translation from the printed copies of those curious 
 annals, by an East Anglian lady ; whose work was printed but not 
 published, about four or five years ago. Whatever additional value 
 may be conferred by collation and annotation, the Oxford Professor 
 could find no room to improve on the characteristic simplicity and 
 purity of our fair countrywoman's style. 
 
 * In like manner, the present bulk of Latin and Greek lexico- 
 graphy might be enlarged and enlightened, by the discovery of those 
 numerous ancient works, of the best ages, which are known to have 
 once existed, but are now unknown; many of them, probably, lost in 
 the. dark recesses of vast libraries, yet unexplored. This may be particu- 
 larly the case with those libraries which have been emphatically and 
 very aptly called the grave of manuscripts, the Vatican and Ambro- 
 siiui. The late edition of the supposed lost treatise of Cicero de Re- 
 publica from a manuscript imperfectly discharged, and with some 
 monkish theology written over it, found by the Abbate Mai in the 
 Vatican, is a highly curious specimen of the mode in which some of 
 those treasures have been lost and may be recovered. 
 
 f- Of the strong traits of family likeness among the various lan- 
 guages or dialects descended from the great Gothic stock, a most 
 ingenious and convincing illustration is to be found in the fifth volume 
 of the Archaeologia, in Mr. Drake's valuable Paper on the Origin of 
 the English Language. It is written in refutation of Mr. Whitaker's 
 notion of a Celtic origin. The learned and sagacious etymologist
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 tongues, we should find etyma in our own native 
 stores ; in other words, the intermixture would be 
 proved to be original. 
 
 But, before we consider the probability of farther in- 
 termixture by the Danish inroads, it is necessary to 
 observe in this place, that Hickes's pure Saxon was not 
 only compounded with other Northern languages, but 
 even with those of Greece and Rome. The admixture 
 of Greek and Latin with English, in much later times, 
 is a matter of separate consideration, to which we shall 
 come in the course of our argument. What is now 
 before us is their connexion with Saxon. We have 
 no concern with the truth or error of the opinion of 
 many great etymologists, that whatsoever in the Latin 
 language is not Greek, Etruscan, or of some other very 
 ancient dialect of Italy, is Gothic; deduced, in the 
 course of ages and of intercourse, from some of the 
 Northern tongues, left in some period of indefinite an- 
 tiquity by Northern barbarians on their inroads into 
 the regions of the South. We are neither concerned 
 to assent nor to deny. We have nothing to do with 
 the formation of the Latin language, or with its early 
 
 particularly compares two of the Gothic tongues ; the Moeso- Gothic 
 and the Anglo-Saxon. He has selected one chapter from the Gospel 
 of Saint John, in the version of Ulphilas, and compared it, verse by 
 verse, and word by word, with the Saxon version ; and through that, 
 has rendered it, still verbatim, into English ; finding throughout, 
 with very few exceptions, words which have been, or 'now- are, in 
 current use, or at least have a clear and undeniable connexion with 
 such words. This surely is even demonstrative. The demonstratioa 
 might in all probability be strengthened by a collation of the same 
 chapter in the Islandic version. The three ancient Gothic dialects 
 might be brought as near to each other as the two have been. 
 VOL. I. D
 
 26 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 stages. It is enough for us to account, and we are 
 abundantly able to account, for its having travelled far 
 North in its improved and matured state. Whereso- 
 ever the Romans extended their conquests, there they 
 left permanent and indelible traces of their language. 
 Their arts every where followed their arms. Where- 
 soever they established provinces, and planted colo- 
 nies, they communicated the blessings of civilization 
 to the vanquished barbarians. That was the aera of the 
 commencement of civil, social, and moral improvement 
 among them. This must amply account for the incor- 
 poration of much Latin with Anglo-Saxon before its 
 introduction into this country. In the region from 
 which they came, the Roman power and predomi- 
 nance had been quite sufficiently felt to produce this 
 effect. But farther ; when the Saxons had been long 
 established in this country ; when they had become 
 considerably humanized ; when Christianity had been 
 partially introduced among them by Augustine in the 
 very end of the fifth century ; and still more, when an 
 incipient disposition to learning had been encouraged 
 and improved among them by Theodore and Adrian 
 in an advanced period of the seventh ; direct inter- 
 course with Rome became frequent. By this, indeed, 
 we may more particularly account for the introduction 
 of theological and ecclesiastical terms ; but, upon the 
 whole, through these several inlets a great deal of La- 
 tin must have been admitted, before the termination of 
 Hickes's aera of pure Saxon, It is easy for any one to 
 convince himself how great the proportion was, by 
 merely running his eye down half a page of Somner 
 or Lye.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 And, with respect to Greek, still forbearing to be- 
 wilder ourselves in the mists of remote antiquity, (not 
 presuming to entertain the disputable and disputed 
 point, whether the Pelasgi, being a Scythian tribe, in- 
 troduced into Greece, in a very early age, elements of 
 the same original and radical languagewhich spread 
 itself in other directions into the Northern regions,) we 
 may rest abundantly persuaded, that in much later 
 times, a great deal of Greek came to us "North 
 about." Dr. Wallis well observes, that polysyllabic 
 words from Greek or Latin would become in a 
 Northern language monosyllables, according to the 
 genius of those languages ; and by such a change, be- 
 come much disguised, and as far as possible from at- 
 testing their origin by their form. It is impossible to 
 forbear an occasional smile at the grave attempts of 
 Junius or Casaubon, to prove that some reputed na- 
 tive of a hyperborean region, of most barbarous and 
 rugged aspect, is in fact, 
 
 nee Sarmata nee Thrax 
 Mediis sed natus Athenis ! 
 
 And one may sometimes be tempted to laugh outright 
 at the endless genealogies of our East Anglian lexico- 
 grapher, Mr. Lemon, in his most amusing of all dic- 
 tionaries. We cannot, however, help conceding to 
 those recondite etymologists, that they produce many 
 striking, and even convincing resemblances, though 
 we are unable to assent to all they advance as proof. 
 But, be this as it may, no doubt can exist, that from 
 the many Grecian colonies on the coasts of Samo- 
 thrace, the Hellespont, and the Propontis, their lan- 
 guage travelled along the banks of the Danube, and
 
 28 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 intermingled itself with the Teutonic, and through 
 that with other Gothic dialects. This intermix- 
 ture happened, indeed, in a much later age, but 
 quite early enough for our purpose. It appears that 
 the Moeso-Goths, who had their settlements in that 
 tract of country north of Thrace, and not far from the 
 mouths of the Danube, in the middle of the fourth 
 century, used letters nearly, or even exactly, resem- 
 bling in form, in organic power, or in both, those of 
 the Greek alphabet. These letters are to be found 
 (and many words also) in the celebrated translation 
 of the Scriptures by Ulphilas the Gothic bishop, of 
 which the inestimable, though scanty, remains exist in 
 the famous Codex Argenteus at Upsal ; and of which 
 ample specimens are given in the works of Junius, 
 Skinner, Hickes, &c. Now, whether the Gothic alpha- 
 bet was borrowed from the Greek, when the Goths 
 first began to use alphabetic writing, or whether both 
 were deduced from Cadmean or other common origin, 
 we have no interest in inquiring. It would be going a 
 great deal too far back, and out of our way. 
 
 The introduction of Latin and Greek words into the 
 Anglo-Saxon, before it came into this country, de- 
 priving it, as far as they go, of the character of native 
 purity, having been thus, as it seems, reasonably ex- 
 plained; our next point of inquiry must be, the proba- 
 ble effect of the Danish inroads on the language so 
 compounded, in addition to that general intercom- 
 munity of the Northern dialects, which has already 
 been remarked. Perhaps too much weight has been 
 attributed to this. An attentive consideration of dates 
 may throw light upon the question. There is certainly 
 no little force in the historical fact that those very
 
 INTRODUCTION. 29 
 
 Danes were themselves no other than Saxons. They 
 were the posterity of those who, after the successive 
 emigrations of their countrymen into this island, con- 
 tinued to occupy their own country, in the lower part 
 of the Cimbric Chersonese, on the sea-coast, stretch- 
 ing in general direction south-westward, thence to the 
 mouth of the river Elbe, and to a very considerable 
 extent inland. At an advanced period of the eighth 
 century they were expelled by the victorious arms of 
 Charlemagne, and sought new settlements in the higher 
 parts of the Chersonese ; in the neighbouring islands 
 of the Baltic, now constituting the kingdom of Den- 
 mark ; and in the southern parts of Scandinavia. But, 
 not long satisfied with the change, they began their 
 predatory adventures by sea; some came into this 
 island under the name of Danes ; others went, under 
 that of Normans, into different provinces of France 
 long before their actual and permanent occupation of 
 Ncustria. Jn point of language then, they could have 
 nothing more to contribute to the Saxon, which they 
 found here, than what they might have acquired either 
 at home, since their ancestors had migrated hither 
 about four hundred years before, or during their own 
 short migration, or that of their immediate ancestors, 
 northward. That so barbarous a people should have 
 had enough of the necessary intercourse with others, 
 to acquire much, is not very probable. Whether, of 
 what they had so gained, they were likely to commu- 
 nicate enough to make any characteristic change in 
 the Saxon, to effect a sort of new aera in it, is the pre- 
 cise subject of present inquiry. The Danes made their 
 first descent on our coasts in A. D. 787, and were very
 
 30 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 soon repelled. During the following 230 years, they 
 made many successive invasions, at different intervals 
 of time. While they staid, their ravages were most 
 ferocious and desolating. " Their hand was against 
 every man, and every man's hand against them." In 
 every instance, the Saxons got rid of them as soon as 
 possible, either by force of arms, or by large contribu- 
 tions of money. Whether the time were long or short, 
 they were objects of too much terror and abhorrence, 
 to allow the possibility of such coalescence with their 
 enemies as to produce any considerable intermixture 
 of language. Time and peaceful intercourse must 
 have been necessary to effect that. Where colonies 
 were established, they must have been strong enough 
 to defend themselves, and have taken care to keep 
 aloof from the exasperated and desperate natives. At 
 the end of those 230 years of warfare and mortal 
 hatred, a Danish dynasty, indeed, mounted the throne 
 in A. D. 1017 ; but it became extinct in 1041, and a 
 Saxon prince succeeded. These twenty-four years 
 were too few to produce any great effect upon lan- 
 guage, even if the two nations, no longer at deadly 
 feud, lived together in tolerable concord, as subjects 
 of the same sovereign. It was, moreover, very near 
 the end of Dr. Hickes's second stage of the Anglo- 
 Saxon language, and the commencement of the third. 
 But though it be, for these reasons improbable that 
 the whole mass and body of the national language 
 should have been affected by the Danish inroads, yet 
 there can be no doubt that stray words would be drop- 
 ped here and there, particularly in th;r,e parts of the 
 island which were most completely overrun and longest
 
 INTRODUCTION. 81 
 
 occupied by those fierce barbarians. None were longer 
 or more completely so than our kingdom of East An- 
 glia. The conclusion is that there must be much 
 doubt and difficulty in ascertaining the importation of 
 such a number of Danish words as to give any thing of 
 new colour and character to the Saxon language ; that 
 such a distinction is not worth making : certainly not 
 in our view of the subject. 
 
 Nor does it seem easier or more important to ac- 
 count for the accession of a sufficient number of words 
 from Normandy, and for the incorporation of them 
 with the language of this country, while it bore the 
 denomination of Saxon, to effect a change in the gene- 
 ral character of it. About the same time, at which 
 the Danes invaded this country, their brethren the 
 Normans made equally destructive inroads into differ- 
 ent provinces of France, and were either repelled or 
 bought off in much the same manner as they were here. 
 At length, at the very end of the ninth century, the 
 illustrious chieftain Hollo obtained, from the imbecility 
 of Charles the Simple, quiet possession of the rich pro- 
 vince of Neustria, thenceforth denominated from its 
 new masters, Normandy. The genius of Rollo appears 
 to have been as great in peace as in war. He was soon 
 firmly established in his new dominion ; and wisely 
 availed himself of all the advantages it afforded. His 
 followers, not so numerous as to overpower and sup- 
 plant the old inhabitants, as the Saxons did here, be- 
 came amicably incorporated with them. The language, 
 which the Normans carried with them, must have been 
 very nearly the same which the Danes brought hither. 
 But in their case, it was uninterruptedly blended with
 
 32 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 that of their new country ; and that mixture was what 
 may properly and definitely be called Norman French. 
 This term appears to have been used with too much 
 latitude. It is commonly said there is in the English 
 a great deal of Norman-French. The fact is, that 
 there is very little of what ought to be called so. It 
 is plainly and incontestably true, that no inconsider- 
 able part of our language is French, and due attention 
 will be paid to it in its place. But it was not Norman- 
 French. Whatsoever could with propriety bear that 
 name must have been contributed during the Saxon 
 aera, which is limited in respect of language by 
 Hickes, and of history by the Saxon Chronicle, to the 
 accession of Henry II. in 1154. Sufficiently occupied 
 at home in consolidating and perfecting their new in- 
 stitutions, and securing them against their continental 
 neighbours, by whom they must have been regarded 
 with a jealous eye, the Normans, during the greater 
 part at least of the tenth century, appear to have had 
 very little intercourse with the Saxons in this country, 
 to whom they were neither enemies nor allies in their 
 almost constant harrassing struggles with the Danes. 
 To the Danish dynasty, which commenced in an early 
 part of the following century, they were even posi- 
 tively hostile ; and afforded protection and support to 
 the exiled Saxon princes. Here was an opening, in- 
 deed, but it was late in the time assigned to the last 
 stage of the Saxon language ; and it must have been 
 confined to persons of high rank, and their immediate 
 attendants. When the Confessor returned and mounted 
 the throne of his ancestors, it is well known that the 
 intercourse between the two countries became more
 
 INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 open, enlarged, and diversified, and more likely to 
 have effect upon language. But this state of things 
 continued but a very short time ; only twenty-five 
 years. When the Norman Conqueror came over, to- 
 gether with the civil and military institutions of his 
 country, he brought also its language entire ; that lan- 
 guage, which, during more than two centuries, had 
 been gradually compounded by an intermixture of 
 French with the Dano-Saxon, or Saxo-Norman, or by 
 whatsoever other name it may be more distinctively 
 called, which had been introduced by Rollo and his 
 followers. This language (Norman-French) must of 
 course have contained much which the Saxon of this 
 country had not. But it is to be questioned much, 
 whether it were communicated or communicable to 
 any considerable extent. It was spoken and written 
 by all the higher orders in society ; the court, the 
 great landholders, the superior clergy, regular and 
 secular. For the most part, indeed, it was their native 
 language. Those to whom it was not so, the very few 
 of the Saxon nobility and clergy who were allowed to 
 retain their possessions, had a direct interest in making 
 themselves masters of it. That acquisition was a 
 fashionable accomplishment. The people at large ; 
 the inferior landholders, who in successive degrees, 
 held of those who held of the crown ; the immediate 
 cultivators of the soil ; the villans, the bordars, the 
 traders and artisans in cities and towns, and other 
 wretched praedial slaves to their new feudal lords, 
 knew enough of their language if they understood 
 their commands, frequently canveyedj no doubt, by
 
 34 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 intimations more significant, than words in an unknown 
 longue. At any rate they had no inducement to in- 
 corporate it with their own, which was treated with 
 insult, contempt, and abhorrence, likely enough to be 
 amply requited. It has been said, indeed, that the 
 Saxon language was intended to have been utterly 
 abolished, as the British had been by the Saxon many 
 centuries before. If such an intention were ever ac- 
 tually entertained, which is much to be doubted, it has 
 been very far indeed from having the same success ! 
 
 The probable paucity of really Norman-French 
 words, is justified by actual appearances. Etymolo- 
 gists rarely assign such a derivation, in the language 
 at large ; and certainly, in our dialect in particular, 
 there are very few. Perhaps, more may be found in 
 the provincial language of the southern counties ; but 
 in proportion to the whole they must, at any rate, be 
 inconsiderable. Kelham's Norman dictionary, the 
 most generally acknowledged authority of its kind on 
 this subject, is by no means an ample collection ; yet 
 we must suppose the author to have collected all he 
 could find. But they fill only an octavo volume of 
 very moderate bulk, and loosely printed ; very differ- 
 ent indeed, in that respect from our Saxon tomes 
 " grandes, Jupiter, atque ponderosos ! " The object 
 of the author was to collect the language of the law, 
 while the proceedings of our courts were recorded in 
 the Norman-French language. As there are very few 
 things, indeed, which have not at one time or other 
 been subjects of litigation, it might be reasonably ex- 
 pected that such a compilation would incidentally con-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 tain many words of common life. The fact is, how- 
 ever, that the number of these is very small, and still 
 smaller, that of such as are not also to be found in 
 Saxon dictionaries ; which were therefore not French 
 acquisitions, but of the old Gothic stock,* common to 
 Saxons, Danes, and Normans. 
 
 Far more copious was the influx of French 
 words into our language, which soon after began, 
 and which may be said to have never ceased, and 
 scarcely to have been intermitted, from that time 
 to this. During the reigns of our first three Nor- 
 man Princes, the Conqueror and his two sons, con- 
 tinual intercourse, in any degree of intimacy, was 
 confined to their Duchy of Normandy. The turbu- 
 lent reign of the usurper Stephen is scarcely worth 
 mentioning, but that the end of it has been fixed as the 
 termination of our Saxon aera. Here then, the terms 
 Saxon and Norman-French are to cease. The lan- 
 guage of our country assumes the denomination of 
 English. Fcr the French, which from that time was 
 imported, we may be thought to want an appropriate 
 epithet instead of Norman. Old French may perhaps 
 be allowed to serve tolerably well for lack of a better. 
 And, if it be not sufficiently definite to express what the 
 
 * A philological friend of the Author, who, a few summers ago, 
 passed some months in the province of Normandy, caught among the 
 peasantry several sounds quite familiar to his ear in Norfolk. Unfor- 
 tunately, in this instance, he put too much confidence in a memory of 
 extraordinary powers, and made no memoranda. He has lost all hut 
 one, which of course he offered as a Norman-French etymon. It is, 
 however, of this old common stock, and occurs in our Saxon diction- 
 aries. V. UPADAY.
 
 36 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 language was, it may be enough to intimate what it 
 was not. On the accession of Henry the Second, 
 communication with the continent was very much en- 
 larged and diversified. That Prince had lived many 
 years on the continent, and made large acquisitions of 
 territory. By his mother and his wife, he received 
 the accession of the rich provinces of Maine, Anjou, 
 Touraine, and Poitou. Farther additions were made 
 by the marriages of succeeding Princes ; until, within 
 200 years, Edward the Third laid formal claim to the 
 sovereignty of France. During all this time, and be- 
 yond it, those contributions from France were per- 
 petually pouring in, which confessedly constitute so 
 large a part of our compound tongue. This was the 
 French of which our great poet, Chaucer, was absurdly 
 accused, by Skinner, of importing " integra vocum 
 plaustra." The accusation was absurd, because Chau- 
 cer was certainly, among his contemporaries, a very 
 popular writer, as well as a great favourite at court. 
 And he certainly could not have been so, had he used 
 a multitude of words, which had been used by no pre- 
 ceding writer ; which, to a great proportion of his 
 readers, would be quite unintelligible ; and, to those 
 who understood them, would most probably savour of 
 affectation. We may be quite sure, that neither he 
 nor any other writer ever brought home new words by 
 the " cart-load," though many before, and many since 
 his time, have taken up such as happened to come in 
 their way, and seemed worth taking ; under a general 
 caution, however, to write nothing but what their 
 readers would be likely to understand. It seems 
 strange that Skinner, who has so very ably investi-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 87 
 
 gated the etymology of his native language, should 
 have attended so little to the history of it, as to have 
 been unaware that Chaucer used no more French 
 words than his contemporaries. Among these, Sir 
 John Maundevile might, indeed, have been suspected 
 of being, like some other travellers, fond of larding 
 his mother tongue with out-landish words, phrases, 
 and idioms. But. this cannot possibly be suspected in 
 Wickliffe, who assuredly intended his translation for 
 popular use and instruction. Going a little farther back 
 we come to the two monks of Gloucester and of 
 Bourn. The former, indeed, carries us back about 30 
 years into the thirteenth century ; terminating his 
 chronicle in A. D. 1270, in all probability but a short 
 time before his death. He must certainly have been 
 writing within a century from the accession of Henry 
 the Second, the date already assigned for the free and 
 copious admission of French. Robert of Gloucester 
 is the earliest English writer cited by Dr. Johnson, 
 in the History of the English Language prefixed to 
 his Dictionary. He observes upon him, that he " uses 
 a diction neither Saxon nor English." What is alone 
 important to our present purpose, is to remark, that, 
 in this ambiguous diction, be it what it may, there is 
 a very visible interspersion of French words. His 
 immediate successor, and in part contemporary, 
 Robert de Brunne, or Bourn, has more ; but, in his 
 turn, has fewer than Chaucer, and other writers of the 
 next age. The historian of English Poetry gives 
 specimens from writers earlier than Robert de Glou- 
 cester. He gives as many, probably, as he could find ; 
 at least, as were sufficient to his purpose. And if the 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 38 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 series be not absolutely unbroken, till all that can be 
 called English is lost in mere Saxon, the proof is sa- 
 tisfactory, that from the first few scattered Norman- 
 isms in the latest Saxon, French became progressively 
 more and more discernible, particularly after the 
 opener and more enlarged communication with France. 
 Not, indeed, that the effect was immediately discern- 
 ible. It could not be so. For a century at least after 
 the accession of Henry of Anjou, although it was 
 working its way by oral communication through many 
 channels into popular use, but little would appear in 
 books. When authors submit their works to the pub- 
 lic, they mean, of course, the reading public ; a very 
 confined description of persons in those days. There 
 were no such persons in existence as the general 
 readers, of whom we have now such multitudes. Those 
 of them who wrote for scholars used the Latin lan- 
 guage. Those who purveyed for the taste of men of 
 the world wrote in French. At length, when the 
 great and the learned condescended to encourage, 
 cultivate, and improve, their mother-tongue, what had 
 been long privately accumulating appeared publicly. 
 Geoffry Chaucer was the first writer of great celebrity 
 in whom it is to be found ; for the plain reason, that 
 he found it in general use, and knew that it would be 
 generally understood. 
 
 From other European languages we have received 
 much scantier contributions. It might seem probable 
 from some circumstances, that we might have a gocd 
 deal of Italian. The fact is, that we have very little ; 
 for there were strong counteracting causes. From a 
 very early age to that of the Reformation religion af-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 39 
 
 forded an open and frequent intercourse with Italy. 
 Ecclesiastical persons were very often resorting to the 
 Papal Court. From time to time, Nuncios with nu- 
 merous trains were sent into this country. The Pope 
 thrust multitudes of Italians into our Bishoprics, Abba- 
 cies, and principal parochial benefices. But the Papal 
 yoke had been so intolerable to our ancestors, long be- 
 fore it was shaken off, that the Pope's emissaries, of 
 whatsoever rank, were very unlikely to be allowed to 
 coalesce much with them, or to find them very docile 
 in the adoption of foreign terms. Not to mention, that 
 a great many of them had no opportunity of making 
 the attempt, being entirely non-resident, and having all 
 their revenues sent to Rome or Avignon. Commerce 
 also might seem likely to have considerable influence 
 of the same sort. The Lombards had much of it in 
 their hands, and consequently much of the wealth of 
 the nation, from the days of our early Henries and Ed- 
 wards for a very considerable series of years. They 
 were, indeed, principally resident in London, and even, 
 in one quarter of it, which bears their name to this 
 day, or were scattered in some few other trading 
 towns. But, however occasionally useful they might 
 be, they seem to have been generally looked upon with 
 jealousy and suspicion. 
 
 Still fewer Spanish terms are likely to have been in- 
 corporated with our language. There was never any 
 open and permanent channel for their admission. 
 Three events in our history may seem to have afforded 
 some opening ; the marriage of Edward I. with Elea- 
 nor of Castile ; that of Henry VIII. with Catharine of 
 Arragon, and that of their daughter Mary with Philip
 
 40 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 II. of Spain. All these royal personages were, no 
 doubt, attended by numerous trains, speaking their na- 
 tive language. The Castilian Princess lived about 35 
 years in this country, but it was at a time when her 
 language, whatever effect it might otherwise have had, 
 was overborne by the tide of French, at that time set- 
 ting strongly in. The ill-fated and injured Catharine 
 remained here much about the same number of years, 
 at an interval of three hundred from Eleanor. Very 
 soon after came the gloomy and ferocious tyrant Philip, 
 who staid among us but four years, and, during that 
 time was held in utter abhorrence. In fact, in none of 
 these instances was it probable that the foreign lan- 
 guage should descend freely from the court among the 
 people. In the last instance, indeed, some stray words 
 seem to have been left, and to have continued for a 
 time. In the comedies of Shakspeare and his contem- 
 poraries there are Spanish words and phrases, not so 
 numerous, as frequently occurring. They seem to have 
 been used with a sort of fashionable affectation, and 
 like all other fopperies of that kind, were transient. 
 They are all gone out of use long ago, or if one or two 
 remain it is under some disguise. 
 
 Of other modern European languages, the admix- 
 ture, if there be any, is much less easily detected. 
 Should we have received any small fragments of the 
 ancient languages or dialects of those countries which 
 are now provinces of France, the Provencal, the 
 Langue d'Oc, or the Breton, they are covered and 
 concealed under the general name of French, through 
 which we must have had them. A few scraps of Por- 
 tugese, if such there be, would easily be taken for
 
 INTRODUCTION. 41 
 
 Spanish. Our immediate contact with Portugal, has 
 been comparatively recent, and only maritime and 
 commercial. As for the more northern languages 
 having so very intimate an ancient connexion, their 
 modern derivations are likely to approach so nearly to 
 our own as not to be worth taking, or not to afford any 
 proof that they have been taken. 
 
 But the two ancient languages of Greece and Rome 
 must be mentioned again here. Besides the remote 
 and obscure connexion, already noticed, we have nu- 
 merous derivatives from them, in much later times. 
 In very great measure, they have come to us through 
 the French. This is most observable of Latin words, 
 by far the more numerous of the two. Very little 
 Greek has come to us through that channel. The 
 French scholars (with a very few exceptions) have 
 never had any to share. Some little may have come 
 to us through the Italian. Of these transmissions 
 proof is exhibited in those variations which are made, 
 more or less, when words migrate from the language 
 to which they belong, into another. The strangers 
 must wear the costume of the country. This is espe- 
 cially observable in words taken into the French from 
 other languages. The French, like the Greeks of old, 
 take nothing as they find it, but shape every thing to 
 their own liking. Even proper names must undergo 
 this transformation, and lose a great deal of their Ro- 
 man air. If we take the same liberty, it is in a few 
 instances, and we are to blame for following a bad ex- 
 ample. Latin words which have come to us through 
 French are instantly discernible. But there are many 
 other words, both Latin and Greek, which have come 
 E 3
 
 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 to us immediately, without passing through any medi- 
 um. These are principally terms of science (Greek 
 words in particular) which have been introduced since 
 the revival of arts and letters ; the number of which 
 has increased, and is still increasing with the advances 
 and improvement of arts and sciences.* 
 
 * The coinage of Greek or Greek-like words has been prodigiously 
 abundant in our days. Some very few of them may be allowed to get 
 into general and permanent currency. But the greatest part of them 
 are struck off on adulterated metal and a coarse die ; such as cannot 
 possibly pass longer than they can be made to serve the purposes of 
 their fantastical fabricators, or perhaps patent proprietors. It is 
 scarcely possible to take up a newspaper without finding some puffing 
 advertisement, headed with a hard word, meant to be for Greek, but 
 for the most part put together with perfect ignorance, or disregard 
 of the manner in which the Greeks formed their compound words. 
 Should any of these have been admitted, through inadvertence, into a 
 dictionary, it is to be hoped, that on the next revision, what may have 
 privily crept in, will be authoritatively turned out. Fifty years hence, 
 when the shews, or quackeries, or fooleries, which they are now em- 
 ployed to designate, are forgotten, it will be impossible to conjecture 
 what the names ever meant. It would be trifling, as well as tedious, 
 to give instances ; and, moreover, might be thought invidious, for 
 one might probably hit upon something very ingenious in itself, and 
 with nothing ridiculous about it, but its nickname. Upon the whole 
 it is seriously to be wished that none of these scaramouch Hellenisms 
 may be allowed to become settled as English denizens. And it seems 
 worthy of observation in this place, that the mighty steam-engine, the 
 most powerful of moving forces constructed by human art, worthy 
 to have been invented and used by Archimedes himself, as the nearest 
 approach ever made to his grand conception of the possibility of mov- 
 iag the earth, does not bear a Greek name. There was no need of it. 
 An apt and adequate denomination was easily found in our own lan- 
 guage, by compounding, according to the known usage of it, two 
 plain words, one of them genuine Anglo-Saxon, the other, though 
 remotely Latin, certainly coming from the Norman-French, and na- 
 turalized among us many ages ago.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 43 
 
 The enumeration may be closed by mentioning col- 
 lectively, certain sources of communication which 
 might seem likely to be copious, but in fact, have been 
 very scanty. In different and distinct parts of our own 
 island, two languages now exist ; and a third existed 
 not very long since, distinct from each other, and from 
 the English. The Cambro-British in the principality 
 of Wales, and the Gaelic in the Highlands of Scotland, 
 are spoken and written at this day by great multi- 
 tudes unacquainted with any other language. Scarcely 
 more than fifty years are said to have elapsed since 
 the final extinction of the Cornish. Of every one of 
 these, many derivations may, and probably do, exist 
 in the provincial dialects of neighbouring districts. 
 Very few indeed have found their way into the gene- 
 ral body of our language. Johnson gives but few ; 
 but more than can be unanimously admitted by ety- 
 mologists, more competent to form a correct judg- 
 ment, in such cases, than the great lexicographer him- 
 self appears to have been. Jamieson, for the reason 
 above suggested, has a larger proportion. What may 
 have caused our ancestors, who made such large im- 
 portations from beyond sea, to be so inattentive to the 
 produce or the manufacture of their own country ? For 
 a considerable time, and to a great degree, it may be 
 accounted for, by supposing that both in the north and 
 in the west, the race, expelled from its own settle- 
 ments, and that which occupied them, were effectu- 
 ally kept asunder by the joint causes assigned by the 
 Roman historian for a like separation ; " montibus et 
 mutuo metu." When fear was removed, it was cer- 
 tainly succeeded, and perhaps in equal force, by mu-
 
 44 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 tual hatred. And may we not, in addition to these 
 visibly operating causes, imagine, that, as in the ani- 
 mal and vegetable kingdoms of nature, certain phy- 
 sical sympathies and antipathies, serve to perpetuate 
 the distinctions, and to prevent the utter confusion of 
 genera and species ; so, by some analogous principle, 
 languages, from different original stocks, are withheld 
 from intimate intermixture ; and that a hybrid lan- 
 guage, between Gothic and Celtic, would be as much 
 a monster, as the rose blossoming on the crab-tree, or 
 the progeny of the panther and the camel. 
 
 Having now finished the proposed general view of 
 the composition of our multifarious language (which 
 has run into greater length than was apprehended) we 
 may consider it summarily under a similitude suffici- 
 ently expressive, "fluminis cum pace delabeutis." Of 
 the fountain head of the noble stream, we may be 
 contented to remain as perfectly ignorant, as of that 
 of the Nile. If we cannot be said positively to know, 
 we are obliged to believe, that it made its first ap- 
 pearance in this country, nearly fourteen hundred 
 years ago. What it might be before that time, we are 
 still less able, and not at all concerned to know. We 
 may, if we will, conceive it to have burst forth, 
 like Eridanus in the .Eneid, from the lower re- 
 gions. At first, and perhaps for no inconsiderable 
 length of time, it may be supposed to have been stag- 
 nant and marshy; but to have settled itself at length, 
 in a safe and certain channel, flowing, if not with uni- 
 form velocity, yet never again with sluggish and im- 
 perceptible motion ; in different parts of its progress, 
 augmented by tributary streams. If the exact point
 
 INTRODUCTION. 45 
 
 of influx cannot in every, or even in any such instance 
 be discerned, the effect of the intermixture is soon and 
 certainly perceived ; first, perhaps, as it were by a dif- 
 ference of colour and flavour, which is said to be per- 
 ceptible in some natural streams ; afterwards by the 
 visibly increasing mass of the mingled waters, which 
 are copiously poured along without locks or weirs to 
 intercept their majestic course, ever increasing in 
 force, expansion, beauty, and utility, till it hath at- 
 tained the amplitude in which we now view it.* But 
 let us not suppose that it has reached a point of per- 
 fection, beyond which it will not and cannot proceed. 
 However enriched, enlarged, and embellished, it is 
 still, whatever some may appear f to think, progres- 
 
 * Dr. Johnson's opinion strongly confirms this idea of a continu- 
 ous current. He observes that " it cannot be expected in the nature 
 of things gradually changing, that any time can be assigned, when 
 the Saxon may be said to cease, and the English to commence." 
 Hist, of the Eng. Lang. The observation is applicable, in still greater 
 force, to any subdivisions of the one language or of the other, either 
 local or chronological. 
 
 f That Mr. Pegge should be one of those who appear to think so, 
 is somewhat strange. His words are, " our language now seems to be 
 at its height of purity and energy." Anec. of the Eng. Lan. 1814. 
 p. 79. It would have been enough to say that it is now purer and 
 more energetic than it ever was before. But he may be understood 
 to me&n final purity and energy. The expression may have been in- 
 advertently used. So good a philologist would surely not deny the 
 possibility of further improvement in both respects. As to purity, 
 this highly entertaining and instructive writer fully accords with Bp. 
 Lowth in censuring the multitude of gross anomalies which have be- 
 come inveterate in our language, and may wtll be called impurities. 
 Some of them may have been corrected since the learned prelate
 
 46 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 sive in all those respects. Additions are neither so 
 likely, so necessary, nor so desirable as they have 
 been. The stream is neither so rapid, nor so much 
 swelled by contribution from other sources, as it was 
 in some parts of its course; yet still it is as much as 
 ever a stream, and shews no sign of present or proba- 
 ble stagnation. " Labitur et labetur." 
 
 Every dictionary may be considered as a view of 
 some portion of this stream, taken at a certain point 
 in its course ; or, rather, as a particular representation 
 of whatsoever may, from that point, be seen floating 
 on its surface. The general expectation of those who 
 use dictionaries, either for the purpose of acquiring or 
 improving a knowledge of a living language, is to find 
 in them a faithful account of its present current and 
 authentic form, as settled by the best authorities. At 
 most, there are comparatively very few who care what 
 degree of attention, or whether any at all, is paid to 
 those words and phrases which are gone out of use, or 
 are only locally or partially known, and the compilers 
 of dictionaries, on their part, have been willing to ac- 
 commodate their works to those expectations ; and 
 have, from time to time, given as much as they have 
 thought useful and interesting. Such has been their 
 general character from the Promptuarium Parvulorum, 
 our first printed dictionary by Wynkyn de Worde, 
 A. D. 1516, to an advanced period of the last century. 
 
 called the public attention to them in his Grammar. Many, how- 
 ever, certainly have not hitherto been, nor is there any present pro- 
 bability that they will be ; yet in process of time, they may be cor- 
 rected.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 47 
 
 During that interval many dictionaries have been 
 published of very various merit, some English and 
 Latin some English only ; some with the names of 
 their authors, others anonymous. To characterise, or 
 even to enumerate, these would be foreign to the pre- 
 sent purpose, if the author felt himself competent to 
 the task. But it would, even in that case, be unneces- 
 sary, as sufficient information on the subject may be 
 found, by those who desire it, in Sir John Hawkins's 
 Life of Dr. Johnson. So much was it the general 
 object of all these to " catch the living language as 
 it rose " in common life, that dictionaries of Hard 
 Words, as they were called, were from time to time 
 published, as books of science multiplied, and new 
 terms were introduced; which, without such sup- 
 plementary interpretation, must have been unintel- 
 ligible to those who were not sufficiently acquainted 
 with the languages from which such terms are 
 derived. Not indeed, that those auxiliary compi- 
 lations consist entirely of such words. There are 
 many which can scarcely be imagined to have been 
 at any time considered as hard words, or not to have 
 been in common use. Others there are, certainly, 
 very hard, fantastical, or extravagant, " super sesqui- 
 pedalia," which, if they have ever been used any 
 where else, are only to be found in some forgotten 
 books in which they will never again be sought. 
 These two sorts of dictionary combined, exhibited 
 nothing like a standard of the English Language in any 
 stage of it. The want of it was felt and complained 
 of long before it was supplied. Two great authori- 
 ties of different ages may be mentioned as having con-
 
 48 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 curred in that complaint. Dryden, in his dedication 
 of Troilus and Cressida to Lord Sunderland, says, 
 " How barbarously we yet write and speak, your 
 lordship knows, and I am sufficiently sensible, in my 
 own English ; for I am often put to a stand in consi- 
 dering whether what I write is the idiom of the tongue, 
 or false grammar and nonsense couched under the 
 specious name of Anglicism.'' Not stooping to so 
 humiliating an avowal, Warburton, towards the end of 
 the preface to his edition of Shakspeare, expresses 
 much the same sense with equal force. " The Eng- 
 lish tongue is yet destitute of a test or standard to ap- 
 ply to in cases of doubt and difficulty. We have nei- 
 ther Grammar nor Dictionary, neither chart nor com- 
 pass to guide us through the wide sea of words. Both 
 are to be composed and finished on the authority of 
 our best established writers, their texts being cor- 
 rectly settled, and their phraseology critically exa- 
 mined ; and by these aids they may be planned on the 
 best rules of logic and philosophy." These two great 
 men certainly spoke the general sense of scholars in 
 their respective times. The latter of them saw the 
 grievance redressed within eight years after he had 
 complained of it. Johnson's Dictionary of the Eng- 
 lish Language was published in 1755. Within that 
 short period, one mighty mind atchieved for our na- 
 tive tongue, what had been before accomplished for 
 those of France and Italy by the combined effort of 
 their respective national academies, continued through 
 five or or six times as many years ! 
 
 It is obvious that such a dictionary as this cannot 
 be figured under the same image and similitude with
 
 INTRODUCTION. 40 
 
 any which preceded it in this country. It is not a par- 
 tial delineation of any district or department, but a 
 general chart of the great stream of language through 
 its whole course. To expect that such a work should 
 be at once exhibited in perfection would be absurd. 
 A multitude of lines must remain to be added from 
 time to time to bring it nearer and nearer to correct 
 delineation. Some little of this kind was done by the 
 master hand in subsequent editions. A professed 
 Supplement has been published by Mason not with 
 all that respect which English scholars in general 
 would think due to Johnson, even should they happen 
 to differ from him. A more copious dictionary has 
 also been published (not surely in a spirit of rivalry) 
 by Ashe. Neither the one nor the other has been ad- 
 mitted to share, with the great work, the honour of 
 being considered as the standard. That character 
 must be continued entire from Johnson's own editions 
 to the enlarged and improved one published a few 
 years ago by Mr. Todd. His valuable and successful 
 labours have been conducted most judiciously in scru- 
 pulous conformity with Johnson's plan. He has added 
 a multitude of words and authorities. He has made 
 much addition, improvement, and correction in ety- 
 mology, in which point the great lexicographer him- 
 self seems to have been most deficient. And, if he has 
 done comparatively little in definition, it is because 
 that part of the original work was executed with such 
 consummate skill, that little was left for him to do. 
 Yet, after all, Mr. Todd himself would surely be one 
 of the last to deny, that there is still ample room, not 
 only for more addition, but for farther improvement. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 50 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Considering the present bulk of that work, and the 
 indefinite enlargement of which it is still capable, and 
 may hereafter receive, indeed must receive before it 
 can be said to give a complete view of the English 
 language ; it is obvious that an inquirer, wishing to 
 consult some particular part of the huge chart, may 
 feel bewildered and encumbered, and wish it were di- 
 vided, in order to be more conveniently consulted. 
 Mr. Archdeacon Nares, in the Preface to his Glossary, 
 published in 1822, aware of this inconvenience, pro- 
 poses to make the division by " throwing out of John- 
 son's Dictionary all the words not actually classical, 
 at that time, so as to make it a standard of correct 
 phraseology;" then to make three more dictionaries, 
 corresponding with three different stages of the lan- 
 guage, one or other of which is of course to receive all 
 that is to be " thrown out" of Johnson. Such an ar- 
 rangement, however, is expressly considered as a thing 
 more specious in theory than likely to be realised in 
 practice. Certainly no such likelihood is conceivable. 
 And with all the deference unquestionably due to the 
 opinion of such a veteran in philology as the Arch- 
 deacon of Stafford, it may not be too presumptuous to 
 doubt, whether he has hit upon the happiest princi- 
 ple of division. One prima facie objection, pervading 
 the whole system, would be this. A word or phrase 
 occurs of which a reader wants explanation. In 
 which of the dictionaries in the series is he to seek it? 
 He must either already know the age of his word or 
 phrase, that is, the history of it (which it is the pro- 
 fessed design of the arrangement to teach), or he must 
 work his way through them all, if he happens to have
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 51 
 
 them, till he finds what he wants. This utterly does 
 away the benefit of division. Again, is it possible to 
 keep the different aeras distinct? Must they not of ne- 
 cessity run one into another. Is it not so in the learned 
 author's own practice. Of the Elizabethan age, or the 
 age of Shakspeare, which he calls his own " link of the 
 philological chain," he has given a very copious (not 
 to say superabundant in point of cited authorities), 
 and certainly a very interesting and entertaining ac- 
 count. But does he keep it distinct ? He even ex- 
 pressly apologises for not doing so ; and his apology 
 is Spenser's well-known affectation of Chaucer's words. 
 He draws no line, then, on that side. Two of his ages 
 intermix their words. From Shakspeare downwards 
 no line of separation is proposed. If it were, some in- 
 stance, like that of Spenser, or more than one, would 
 interfere with that also. In fact, in both those inter- 
 vals, between Chaucer's time and Shakspeare's, and 
 between Shakspeare's and our's, indeed in all times 
 whatsoever, the state of change has been perpetual. 
 These " winged words " scorn to be confined to any 
 one district, and some there are among them, which 
 extend their bold flight over all. But farther, if three 
 aeras be fixed upon, why not more, especially on this 
 side of Shakspeare's age ? Why not the age of Dry- 
 den ? It might very properly be denominated from so 
 very distinguished an author in prose as well as in, 
 poetry. It was certainly an age of great improvement, 
 though that great ornament of it has been cited to 
 prove, that in his own opinion, enough had not been 
 done. The language of it was assuredly very different 
 from that of Shakspeare's time, or of our's. If, then,
 
 52 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 a chronological division involves difficulties, apparently 
 insuperable, we may be allowed to inquire farther, 
 whether it may be effected on some other principle ; 
 on some property of the words themselves, and not 
 merely on their dates, that the desired improvement in 
 our lexicography may become, if not more likely to 
 be realised in practice, yet more practicable in case it 
 should ever be undertaken, and, if ably executed, 
 more comprehensive. ' 
 
 The words in Todd's edition of Johnson, below the 
 modern " standard of correct phraseology," amount- 
 ing to a very great multitude, but, according to Mr. 
 Nares's proposal, all to be " thrown out," are, in differ- 
 ent degrees, antiquated or obsolete. All such words 
 may be divided into three classes: 
 
 1. Words, now no longer in use, but occurring in 
 works of past ages, never likely to be forgotten, or to 
 be held in less estimation than at present. Surely the 
 language of these is genuine English, abounding in 
 nervous, expressive, energetic words, " actually clas- 
 sical " at any time, and at all times, 
 
 " Et raaribus Curiis, et decantata Camillis." 
 
 A dictionary of " correct phraseology," excluding all 
 these words, would be full as much limited in utility 
 as in bulk. That man's reading must be very narrowly 
 confined, indeed, who did not soon complain of the 
 want of more assistance and information than such a 
 dictionary would afford. All such words being re- 
 tained, it would be perfectly easy, by affixing to them 
 a cautionary mark, to secure very effectually correct- 
 ness of phraseology. There would still be many 
 which might be got rid of. All those which are cha-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 53 
 
 racterised as low, coarse, burlesque, obscure, obsolete, 
 &c. All known provincialisms ; all which are no bet- 
 ter authorised than by writers of inferior note,* of 
 which not a few have been admitted by Johnson, and 
 retained by Todd; all those, which though vouched 
 by first-rate names, occur only in those species of com* 
 position in which homely language must be used, for 
 instance in low comedy, of which we have a great 
 abundance under high names. 
 
 2. Words, which, if not totally and irrecover- 
 ably lost, are to be found only where they are not 
 at all likely to be sought; in books, which still, indeed, 
 continue to lumber the shelves of old libraries, but by 
 a sort of tacit common consent, are allowed to lie un- 
 disturbed; which nobody now opens, or only perhaps 
 now and then, a dry and determined antiquary, for 
 some particular purpose, about which nobody else 
 cares a straw. Such words might be "thrown out" 
 of every dictionary. There are, or rather have been, 
 many such in our language. For a very large sample 
 of them, recourse may be had to Skinner, who has 
 subjoined to his Etymologicon, under a separate al- 
 phabet, between 2,000 and 3,000 of them, which he 
 considers as having actually perished between the 
 reign of William the Conqueror and his own time 
 about the middle of the seventeenth century. No 
 doubt the number would now be found much increased, 
 if any body thought it worth while to inquire. To 
 
 * L'Estrange and Tusser may be mentioned as instances. Both 
 are often quoted ; both were East-Anglians, and understood, and 
 used their dialect ; which their authority, unsupported, cannot pos- 
 ibly convert into standard English. 
 
 F3
 
 54 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 revert once more to our similitude of the stream, these 
 were all once freely afloat on the surface, but have 
 sunk to the bottom, and are not worth the pains of 
 fishing up again. 
 
 3. Words, which, though they may be supposed 
 obsolete, are in fact still in use, and likely long 
 to continue so. These have also all been buoyant, 
 and have not sunk to the bottom ; but, at many different 
 times and places, have been cast on shore ; and the in- 
 habitants of the bank, fortunate in finding so valuable 
 a sort of wreck, have dul} estimated and retained the 
 use of them. This is the great body of Provincial Lan- 
 guage, which, when it shall have received the deserved 
 attention not hitherto bestowed upon it, will yield so 
 ample a contribution of sound old English, as to form 
 more than is yet imagined, of the bulk of even a large 
 dictionary. Many of these words have lurked in such 
 profound obscurity, as never to have found their way 
 into a dictionary, or, indeed, into any other book. 
 Yet not a few can produce vouchers for their legiti- 
 macy, not less strong than those which have procured 
 for their more favoured contemporaries in times past 
 admission into the standard dictionary. From this, 
 however, they must be positively excluded ; and the 
 few of them which have been introduced, must be 
 turned out again. They are totally unqualified for 
 such a station, having no pretension to be considered 
 as correct phraseology, in the present state of the lan- 
 guage, and not being now '' actually classical," what- 
 ever they may have been reckoned in the days of their 
 prosperity. To these must be added the many words 
 under the first of these three classes, which are to be
 
 INTRODUCTION. 55 
 
 dislodged from the stations they at present improperly 
 occupy ; those of the second class which are recover- 
 able, and worth recovering, if peradventure some few 
 there be; and \vhatsoeverofhumblepretension, may 
 still have a valid claim to admission somewhere. All 
 these collectively would form ample materials for a 
 supplementary dictionary. 
 
 On this principle, two dictionaries might be con- 
 structed, perfectly separate, but of concurrent autho- 
 rity and utility. One would contain all that is neces- 
 sary for the various purposes of Science and Litera- 
 ture. The other a complete digest of the vulgar and 
 colloquial tongue. In one or the other, fit reception 
 would be provided for every known word, properly 
 English, with the total exclusion of all cant, slang, and 
 flash ; for which the proper place is one, of which the 
 author has often heard, but never saw the Scoundrel's 
 Dictionary. Some difficulty might occur in drawing 
 the line of separation with accuracy. Doubts might 
 arise, and errors be committed, in determining where 
 to place some, which seem to hover on the border, and 
 in deciding for or against others, which may seem not 
 to belong to either. The necessary care and vigilance, 
 might, however, obviate any important intermixture 
 or omission. The two jointly would give a continuous 
 and consistent history of the English Language from 
 the time at which it could be pronounced to be no 
 longer Saxon. They must be distinguished by two 
 sufficiently characteristic names. They have already 
 insensibly, and for convenience of speaking separately 
 of them, been called Standard and Supplementary. 
 Those two names may perhaps serve as well as any.
 
 56 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Ancient and Modern they certainly must not be called ; 
 for each would contain as much archaism as the other. 
 But it will be time enough to think of names, if the 
 scheme be adopted. However that may be, it is sub- 
 mitted with unaffected deference to superior judgment 
 and correction. 
 
 Before we proceed to consider more particularly 
 what may hereafter be done in this way for our Pro- 
 vincial English, it will be right to bestow a little at- 
 tention on what already has been done. The very 
 existence of it seems scarcely to have been recognised 
 till within the last 200 years. Not that such varieties 
 had no earlier existence, but that they had been dis- 
 regarded. General and local, old and new, coarse and 
 refined, language was mixed together with little or no 
 distinction in our old dictionaries ; and certainly our 
 old authors in general were by no means nice in their 
 choice of words. The first recorded instance of any 
 notice vouchsafed to Provincialisms, and that a very 
 slight one, seems to have proceeded from the pen of 
 the learned Sir Thomas Browne. We may be allowed, 
 perhaps, to indulge a little venial vanity on this point. 
 It was our own dialect, which was honoured with this 
 first particular attention. Sir Thomas, who was a na- 
 tive of London, came to settle as a physician at Nor- 
 wich in the year 1637. No doubt his ear was soon 
 Struck with many unwonted sounds. It was, however, 
 some years after that time, that, in one of his miscella- 
 neous Tracts (the eighth, on Languages), he gives a 
 small sample of Norfolk words, twenty-six in number, 
 to illustrate his subject, the Saxon origin of the Eng- 
 lish language. He does not, however, give either the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 57 
 
 derivation or the meaning of any one, but simply cites 
 them, without order or connexion, as they occurred to 
 his recollection, and suited his purpose. Many of 
 them are still in use ; some have become extinct ; two 
 or three were surely never properly to be called pro- 
 vincial, being used by good authors contemporary with 
 Sir Thomas himself; and it seems strange he should 
 not have heard them till he came into Norfolk. From 
 the manner in which he must be conceived to have 
 picked up his words, by occasional and infrequent, not 
 by common and habitual, conversation with those who 
 used them, he may perhaps have been led into some 
 other mistakes. However that may be, every one of 
 them is, with due respect, inserted in its proper place 
 in the Vocabulary. 
 
 Not many years after, the illustrious Ray stooped 
 from his elevation in science, to make a pretty consi- 
 derable collection of these poor despised outcasts, as 
 they were then to be found in the North, the South, 
 and the East Country. So far as we are concerned 
 with them, these also, for the most part, are still in ex- 
 istence. He has adopted all Sir Thomas Browne's 
 words, not in his alphabetical arrangement, but by way 
 of honorary distinction in his Preface : of most of them 
 he has given etymologies. So he has of some of his 
 own ; but by no means of so many as might be wished. 
 And it is farther to be wished, that he had found 
 leisure, inclination, and opportunity, to give something 
 from other districts of the kingdom. Indeed, his cor- 
 respondent * Lloyd has contributed some little, which 
 
 * Ray's correspondences were of course with the most eminent
 
 58 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 might be useful, from the counties bordering upon 
 Wales. Ray was the first writer who condescended 
 to treat on this subject directly. Sir Thomas Browne's 
 small fasciculus was only incidentally introduced. " It 
 lay in his way and he found it." 
 
 Next in point of time to Ray,* are to be mentioned 
 the collections of provincialisms given in some of the 
 County Histories. But these are very inferior parts 
 of those laborious and voluminous compilations ; 
 scarcely, if at all, more than mere appendages, which 
 it was thought fit or necessary to affix ; much like the 
 catalogues of rare plants, &c. accepted and inserted 
 as they were offered, and not deemed to require any 
 industry of research. In some of the later works of 
 that sort, these collections may be somewhat more 
 ample, but no where approaching to complete enume- 
 ration. However that may be, they can scarcely be 
 said to be given to the public, being pretty safely 
 locked up from readers in general in those rare and 
 
 literary, and scientific men of his time. By such men large con- 
 tributions were made to his collections of words. Truly, this seems 
 very consolatory and encouraging to scholars, though of far inferior 
 note, who, in these days, may seek amusement to themselves, and 
 attempt to communicate it to others, by investigations of the like 
 kind. 
 
 * Here is evidently an omission. The Author makes no mention 
 of Major Moor's Suffolk Words. But that it was his intention to 
 have done so appears clearly from a memorandum in pencil on the 
 blank page of his copy. He even refers to the book in more than 
 one place ; and would certainly have noticed it with becoming re- 
 spect, if his life had been spared to revise his book. EDIT.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 59 
 
 costly works. In our East-Anglian Topography we 
 have nothing of the kind.* 
 
 The Society of Antiquaries has, from time to time, 
 bestowed its attention on this particular branch of 
 antiquity. There are some papers in the Archaeolo- 
 gia, more considerable in value than in number. Mr. 
 Drake's convincing comparison of the Mreso-Gothic, 
 the Anglo-Saxon, and the modern English languages, 
 in the seventh volume, has already been mentioned. 
 There is a second paper, from the same able pen, in 
 which the subject is continued. We must add Dr. 
 William's words from the West Riding of Yorkshire 
 in the sixteenth, and Mr. Wilbraham's Cheshire words 
 in the nineteenth. Perhaps, no other names need be 
 mentioned, f 
 
 In all the works hitherto enumerated, their respec- 
 tive authors appear to suppose that they are commu- 
 nicating information worthy of some serious attention. 
 A different class is now to be mentioned, in which it 
 seems to have been the object to raise a laugh at the 
 expence of the poor rustics, who express themselves 
 in so ridiculous and barbarous a manner. These 
 works are more accessible, indeed, or rather were so 
 
 * In making this assertion, the Author's memory must evidently 
 have failed him. In the last edition of Sir John Cullum's History of 
 Hawstecl, there is a list of Suffolk words, certainly not a large one, 
 but filling two or three quarto pages ; and the Author must have 
 been aware of this, because he quotes it in another part of the 
 work. EDIT. 
 
 } Here is again an omission of Mr. Brockett's book on the Dis- 
 lect of Northumberland, to which the same observation will apply, 
 as to Moor's Suffolk words in a preceding note. EDIT.
 
 60 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 at the times of their publication, mostly pretty late in 
 the last century, being printed in separate forms, and 
 at low prices. There was one Timothy Bobbin, as 
 he called himself, a Lancashire man, who certainly 
 had no other intention but to make fun. He was a 
 shrewd vulgar wag, whose waggery is more useful 
 than he was aware of. He gives some few Saxon de- 
 rivations, wherever he got them. 
 
 The dialects of Exmoor and Sedgmoor in the West, 
 were also printed in separate forms, and much in the 
 same ludicrous manner. The Author remembers to 
 have met with them many years ago, but has not been 
 able to get them, since he has been led to think of 
 putting his materials together. One, if not both, has 
 been printed in the Gentleman's Magazine ; but 
 neither is that within reach. It is no matter ; for there 
 is sufficient reason to believe, that all in either, which 
 was worth taking, has been taken by Grose. There 
 may have been some other local collections, of like 
 character, but of less note. 
 
 Grose's Provincial Glossary was first published in 
 our own memory, and has passed through several 
 editions. It is avowedly taken from the collections 
 above mentioned. He seems to have used all he 
 could find in Ray, a great deal from Exmoor, Sedg- 
 moor, and Tim Bobbin, probably, all he thought 
 worth having. To these, he is indebted for consider- 
 ably more than one half. He speaks also in his pre- 
 face of some topographical works, to which he ac- 
 knowledges obligation. The remainder he professes to 
 have collected while he was in country quarters, in 
 different parts of the kingdom, in the course of his mi-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 61 
 
 litary service. What was so collected, could surely 
 not be very considerable, and would be liable to the 
 same danger of mistakes, already noticed in the case 
 of Sir Thomas Browne. He picked up occasionally, 
 and accidentally, what he did not at all understand. 
 Upon the whole, his claim to originality can be but 
 very slender indeed. But he has done very useful 
 and acceptable service, by putting whatever he got, 
 and whencesoever got, into a popular and accessi- 
 ble form. He allows the Saxon or Danish origin of 
 a large part of his words, whatsoever may be the 
 value of his opinion, but gives the particular deriva- 
 tions of a few only, and for those is principally in- 
 debted to Ray. His whole number of words is about 
 2500. 
 
 The only name which now remains to be added is 
 entitled to peculiar respect. It is that of the late 
 Samuel Pegge, F. S. A. His valuable collection of 
 Provincialisms he has thought fit to entitle a Sup- 
 plement to Grose's Provincial Glossary ; and he has 
 annexed it to his Anecdotes of the English Language 
 without a word of introduction or explanation. 
 Whence he collected his materials, therefore, we 
 know not. In part, perhaps, from local collections 
 which had not fallen in Grose's way. But from the 
 number of words from Derbyshire (his native county), 
 and from some contiguous districts, it is safely to be 
 presumed that his matter is, in very great measure, 
 original. However that may be, in the highly en- 
 tertaining little work to which his Provincialisms are 
 annexed, this most ingenious philologist has con- 
 trived, by a peculiar vein of playful pleasantry, so to 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 62 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 relieve and enliven the inherent dulness and dryness 
 of his subject, without once losing sight of its real 
 importance, that though he totally discourages and 
 defies rivalry, he strongly intimates to all who may 
 succeed him in the same sort of composition, to do 
 all they can to prevent their readers from throwing 
 aside the book in disgust, or dropping it in a fit of 
 drowsiness ; either of which they might be very likely 
 to do, if the subject were treated with grave and di- 
 dactic formality. This addition to Grose, contains 
 above 1000 words. The aggregate is, therefore, at 
 least 3500. 
 
 This, then, is to be considered as the present pub- 
 lic stock of Provincialisms. Mr. Todd has largely 
 availed himself of it, in the very considerable addi- 
 tion of such matter, which he has made to Johnson's 
 Dictionary. In this point, it was certainly very defec- 
 tive; and no wonder. The same sources were not 
 open to the author. He had himself little knowledge 
 of that local and obscure part of the language ; and 
 he might be very well excused, if he were not anxious 
 to collect and insert, unless it were directly brought 
 to his hand, what he might reasonably suppose that 
 only a small proportion of his readers would value. 
 But whatever be the paucity or abundance of such 
 words, in the view we are now taking, they, with 
 many others, must be dislodged and turned over to 
 the Supplemental Dictionary. To the present stock 
 very great additions may be made. And it could not 
 be insuperably difficult to collect them. Contribu- 
 tions might doubtless be raised from many, or from 
 all quarters. The habit with which the Author began
 
 INTRODUCTION. 63 
 
 to amuse himself so many years ago, is neither a sin- 
 gular, nor probably a very uncommon one. There must 
 be in every county, philologists with sufficient leisure 
 and curiosity to have made such collections for their 
 own amusement ; and with as little thought as the 
 Author entertained till very lately, of laying them be- 
 fore the public ; but which would be forth-coming if 
 they were properly solicited, and to be deposited in 
 proper hands. Even if not habitually and progressively 
 collected, a great deal mignt be got together in a 
 short time. Every man who passes his life in retire- 
 ment, and intermixes with his home-bred neighbours, 
 must become a good deal acquainted with their dialect. 
 Nay, he must even be constrained in some degree, 
 occasionally at least, to adopt it himself, or he would 
 very often speak unintelligibly. Among contributions 
 thus made, it is indeed likely that many superfluities 
 would be found, if rigid caution were not used to 
 avoid every thing that might come under the denomi- 
 nation of mere slang, manifest corruption, or slight 
 deviation from authentic words. But all such things 
 might be thrown out once for all, on general revision 
 and arrangement. The more copious and miscella- 
 neous the immediate communication, the better. 
 What ample materials might thus be brought to light 
 for the Supplemental Dictionary may be made the 
 subject of a little calculation. The joint stock of 
 Grose and Pegge has been stated at 3500. The 
 following collection contains at least 2500, alphabeti- 
 cally arranged, besides what are comprehended un- 
 der general observations on pronunciation and gram- 
 mar. Of the 2500 about 600 are to be found among
 
 64 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 the 3500, either in the very same form, or with some 
 slight variation, but certainly the same words. Con- 
 sequently about 1900 East-Anglian terms are pro- 
 duced, which have not before been recorded. If, 
 as we are in pursuit of Saxon antiquity, we follow the 
 Saxon division of the country, and suppose a return 
 made from each of the other ancient kingdoms with 
 nearly the same numerical results, the whole number 
 of words so brought to light would exceed 13,000; 
 a pretty plentiful accession of materials for an addi- 
 tional Dictionary ; and no weak proof of the neces- 
 sity of a division. However, not venturing in such a 
 matter to trust implicitly to an arithmetical calcula- 
 tion, into which many particulars must be taken, which 
 it would be tedious to specify here, and which might 
 materially affect the result ; and supposing the grand 
 total to fall considerably short of this last number, we 
 may feel fully confident that we should thus obtain, 
 from every corner of the country, enlarged and diver- 
 sified proof of the prodigious fecundity of our Antiqua 
 Mater. And the Author feels himself warranted to 
 exhort, in the terms of his motto, all who may be fitly 
 circumstanced and disposed, to contribute their en- 
 deavours to "search her out" to as much perfection 
 as possible. With respect to his own contribution to 
 that effect, he is not vain enough to fancy that he is 
 giving an example and mode of what ought to be done, 
 but merely an indication of what may be done ; and 
 no one would rejoice more sincerely, to see much more 
 effected, by abler hands in other districts, than he 
 has accomplished on behalf of the East-Angles,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 65 
 
 In speaking of this service to the East Angles at 
 large, he may be thought to assume too much. It may 
 be said that this title is too large for his subject. It 
 may be so; but some explanation may be allowed, 
 perhaps some indulgence. The Saxon Kingdom of 
 East Anglia is reckoned to have comprehended the 
 three modern counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cam- 
 bridge. Now this collection has been almost exclu- 
 sively made from Norfolk and Suffolk. It is not, in- 
 deed, without a slight sprinkling of words from the 
 third county ; but they are no more than what the 
 Author might glean during his residence in the Uni- 
 versity of Cambridge, from College GIPS (ex. grj or 
 the few other natives with whom he might occasionally 
 converse. Such gleanings would be likely to be even 
 more scanty than those of Captain Grose in his coun- 
 try quarters. For this partial application of a general 
 name, a precedent may be found in the venerable ex- 
 ample of the greatest of all East Anglian antiquaries, 
 Sir Henry Spelman ; whose tract entitled " Icenia ' 
 contains no more than short accounts of some of the 
 towns and villages of Norfolk only ; though, according 
 to Camden and others, the Iceni were the ancient 
 British inhabitants of the three counties above men- 
 tioned, with the addition of Huntingdonshire. If the 
 apology be not satisfactory, all that can be farther said 
 is, that the objection is easily enough removable. The 
 paucity of Cambridgeshire words might be done away, 
 and the deficiencies of words from the other two coun- 
 ties (which no doubt are many, copious as the collec- 
 tion may seem) might be supplied, by communications 
 from various quarters. The Author, indeed, is not so 
 G3
 
 66 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 absurdly sanguine as to expect to be called upon for 
 an enlarged and improved edition. He means no more 
 than to hint that, if his work be thought of any value 
 at all, a Supplement to it, some time hence, might not 
 be unacceptable ; and to give assurance that if any 
 corrections of what may be found here, or any addi- 
 tion of what is wanting, were transmitted through his 
 Publisher, they would be received thankfully, and con- 
 sidered attentively ; and, when they seem sufficient in 
 quantity and importance, be printed, with any expla- 
 nation which may seem necessary, and as much ety- 
 mology as possible.* 
 
 But another objection ought perhaps to be obviated. 
 The East Anglian dialect is spoken of as one. And it 
 may be asked, are not the dialects of the counties dis- 
 tinguishable from each other? That no shades of dif- 
 ference exist, would, indeed, be too much to assert. 
 But, if every thing of that sort were collected and 
 placed in the strongest light, it would not amount to 
 what is called in Natural History a different specific 
 character. No more could be made of them all, than 
 that, in Norfolk and Suffolk at least, (to say nothing, 
 for the present, of Cambridgeshire,) they are mere 
 varieties, and even slight ones, of the same species, 
 and are therefore properly called by the same name. 
 If the points in which they certainly agree, and those 
 
 * The Editor has not thought himself at liberty to omit this in- 
 vitation to other collectors, as it shews so clearly the zeal of the 
 Author on the subject of his inquiry. But his untimely death has 
 cut off the hope of any future communications being laid before the 
 public.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 67 
 
 in which they may be said to differ, some of which 
 will incidentally occur, were minutely discussed, the 
 discussion would be insufferably tedious and trifling ; 
 but the former would be found so predominant as to 
 leave no doubt of their constituting what may very 
 fairly be called one dialectic character. If they ever 
 were two dialects, they have been long ago completely 
 blended and identified by contiguity and perpetual in- 
 tercourse. Some persons, indeed, either for the cre- 
 dit of their county, or for the joke's sake, seem to 
 shew a nonsensical sort of jealousy in claiming certain 
 words or phrases as peculiarly their own. If there be 
 any such they are certainly not worth contending for. 
 Any one who, on the ground of his own individual ex- 
 perience, is disposed to pronounce this and that Nor- 
 folk words, and to assign another and another to Suf- 
 folk, is liable to be contradicted by the very next per- 
 son with whom he may happen to converse on the sub- 
 ject. For this reason, no marks of discrimination have 
 been affixed to the words of the Vocabulary, though 
 the Author very well knew in which county almost 
 every one of them was collected. His valuable co- 
 operating correspondent in Suffolk furnished him with 
 near 1200 words. With about 800 of them he was 
 well acquainted before. The 400, or thereabouts, were 
 new to him. But, on shewing them to another friend 
 (a Norfolk man), well acquainted with his mother 
 tongue, and who had heard and used it in parts of the 
 county least familiarly known to the Author himself, a 
 very considerable reduction was made. And the same 
 intelligent critic made the same remark on Moor's 
 " Suffolk Words." Many of the remainder, or most,
 
 68 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 or even all, might be claimed in like manner should fit 
 opportunities occur. In short, it seems as if certain 
 of our words and phrases were comparatively rare or 
 frequent in different parts of the two counties, as some 
 of our indigenous plants are known to be. Let us 
 suppose a meeting of two East Anglian clowns, one 
 from the Northern coast, the other from the banks of 
 the Stour or the Orwell, there can be no doubt that, 
 on entering into conversation, each would recognise a 
 countryman in the other. Their language would be 
 mutually intelligible, with the exception, perhaps, of 
 some few appellations, if any should unluckily come in 
 the way, expressive of merely local objects, or of some 
 figurative terms taken from those objects ; which 
 words there had been neither need nor means of 
 transmitting. Now, suppose two other clowns by some 
 chance to join the party, one from Cumberland, the 
 other from Somersetshire. Before three sentences 
 had been uttered, there would be the most complete 
 confusion. The strangers from the North and from 
 the West would be as foreigners to each other, and 
 both equally to the East Angles. The commonest 
 things with which all four were familiarly acquainted, 
 would be called by such strange names that it would 
 be impossible to understand what was meant, and they 
 must soon have recourse to signs, or talk by things, 
 like the philosophers of Laputa. But, after all, what- 
 ever may be the local and relative frequency or rarity, 
 or even peculiarity, of some words and phrases in our 
 own two counties, we shall soon come to stronger 
 points in which there is perfect concurrence, which 
 must establish the East Anglian dialect " one and in-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 69 
 
 divisible." These will occur in the following Essay; 
 but, before we conclude this, we must attend to an- 
 other topic, properly connected with the subject of it, 
 and which may by no means be omitted. An appre- 
 hension exists, it seems, of present and pressing danger 
 to the permanence, and the very existence, of ours, and 
 of all our popular dialects. They are imagined to be 
 in a state of rapid decline, and to be actually giving 
 way to a more correct diction. This great change is 
 expected from the general disposition to acquire know- 
 ledge, and the increased facilities of diffusing it among 
 those who formerly rested humbly content in their 
 ignorance. These alarming indications have really 
 been urged to the Author by some of his literary 
 friends, as inducements to arrange and publish his col- 
 lection without delay, lest the peculiarities of our mo- 
 ther tongue, if not recorded in time, be irrecoverably 
 lost. Let those judge who are properly circumstanced 
 and most able, how far this mighty change may have 
 proceeded, and be likely still farther to proceed, in 
 country towns; where there are many and various 
 schools, circulating or subscription libraries, book- 
 clubs, reading-rooms, and other appliances and means 
 of literary proficiency, adapted to the different ranks 
 of a numerous population. In villages, the strong 
 holds of provincial language, we are affrighted with no 
 such portentous signs of change. The Author can 
 only say for himself, that he has opportunity almost 
 every day of conversing with the children or grand- 
 children of those with whom he was wont to talk forty 
 years ago, and that he perceives very little change in- 
 deed, and certainly none that can be attributed to
 
 70 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 such a cause. It is true that, during what were called 
 the good times, which opened many sources of expence 
 never thought of before, many more of our rustic 
 youth, of both sexes, were sent from the farm-yard or 
 the dairy to the boarding-school ; some of whom, but 
 a few years before, it would have been thought very 
 absurd so to take out of their proper places. It is no 
 less true, that, though the number is now considerably 
 diminished, it still continues greater than it formerly 
 was. But, in the seminaries to which they are for the 
 most part sent, their rough tongues are not likely to 
 be much filed and polished. Even admitting that some 
 of them bring home from school what is called a love 
 of learning, and a taste for reading, it is likely to have 
 very little influence on their talking. Among us rus- 
 tics, there is, and ever will be, a wide difference be- 
 tween book-learning and common talk. In the comedy 
 of the " Two Gentlemen of Verona," the servant, who 
 has been charged with a verbal message of more than 
 ordinary importance, talks of " speaking it in printy* 
 that is, in choice terms, such as are used in books, not 
 in his own every day familiar style. The vulgar are 
 much alike in all ages. Shakspeare drew the charac- 
 ter of Speed from nature ; and just so would a tolera- 
 bly shrewd country servant speak at this day, on the 
 like occasion. He would, in all probability, use the 
 very same phrase, for we have it. And who has not 
 observed that a rustic, who fancies himself a great 
 scholar, and talks "in print," (suppose the village 
 schoolmaster, the exciseman, or some fortunate adven- 
 turer, who, having left his native cottage in early life, 
 has prospered in the world, and returns late to enjoy
 
 INTRODUCTION. 71 
 
 his othim cum dignitate,} excites so much gaping won- 
 der in his fellows, that they marvel 
 
 " That one small head can carry all he knows ? " 
 
 But still they will laugh in their own sleeves, if not in 
 his face, that he does not use common words on com- 
 mon occasions. 
 
 But this is not all the danger. Should our popular 
 dialects withstand these partial attacks, will they not 
 be overwhelmed and borne down by the general onset 
 of the various plans and unwearied exertions for the 
 education of all ? The zealous promoters of new 
 schemes are in all cases disposed to anticipate the 
 most prosperous issues. In plans of unquestionable 
 beneficence, the world will ever applaud their zeal, 
 and cordially bid them God speed ! But should any 
 thing be included in the expected result neither essen- 
 tial nor subservient to the intended good, of question- 
 able utility, and moreover, not likely to come to pass ; 
 the most sincere well-wisher may be allowed to depre- 
 cate it, and to do what he can to allay the apprehen- 
 sion of it. Supposing, then, all the strong, and some 
 apparently insuperable obstacles overcome, to the uni- 
 versal adoption of one or other of the rival systems of 
 popular instruction ; supposing that, after a competent 
 time, there be a reading population ; the question is, 
 whether we may reckon also on a population of cor- 
 rect speakers ? Does any thing in the nature of for- 
 mer example warrant the expectation ? There is one 
 precedent, indeed, very strongly in point, from which 
 certainly that conclusion is not to be drawn. In Scot- 
 land, from the very time of the Reformation, there 
 has been parochial provision for the simple schooling
 
 72 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 of the poor. And this facility and universality of ele- 
 mentary instruction has assuredly had no fatal, or 
 even mischievous, effect on the popular language. On 
 the contrary, were an instance required of remarkable 
 exemption from the operation of those causes which 
 are perpetually working change in living languages, 
 it must be that of the Lowland Scotch. How little 
 its purity and integrity have been affected is proved in 
 the Scotch Novels and Romances, which have been so 
 popular of late years; which we must suppose to give 
 the language in its actual state ; and of which, fortu- 
 nately for this proof, as well as for the pleasure of 
 reading them, so large a proportion is dramatic and 
 colloquial. With this example before us, what have 
 we to fear for the safety of our Eastern English ? Of 
 the little change which actually has taken place with- 
 in the reach of living memory, can we impute any 
 thing to the puny operation of a cause which has been 
 partially working during a few years only of that con- 
 siderable period ? or can we apprehend more, when it is 
 proved that the same cause, in full force, extent, and 
 activity, has been so inefficient in this respect in the 
 course of many ages ? It may be alledged that a com- 
 parison is not fairly made between a national language, 
 in which a multitude of books have been written, con- 
 stantly in the hands of those who use the language, 
 and a provincial dialect altogether oral, which neither 
 is nor ever was so exemplified and embodied, but lies 
 thinly scattered in works not at all likely to be read 
 by the vulgar. It may seem that this gives to the one 
 a great advantage over the other, in the probability of 
 permanence or perpetuity. But it is to be remarked,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 73 
 
 that there is, on the same side, a power strongly, and 
 perhaps equally, counteracting. It is a fact, too well 
 known to be denied, that the Northern multitudes 
 who migrate Southward, and the still greater multi- 
 tudes who must stay where they are, take great pains, 
 if not to get rid of their native tongue, at least to 
 polish and Anglicise it as much as they can. On the 
 other side, the unwritten dialect rests humbly content 
 in its obscurity, equally unaided and unendangered by 
 any such circumstances. This may be thought to 
 bring the two sufficiently to a level, in the one point 
 in which we want to consider them. And the fact 
 seems to be, that both the men of the North and the 
 men of the East, who stay quietly at home, mind their 
 own business, talk as well as they can what their 
 fathers talked before them, and what all their neigh- 
 bours understand, will preserve it, if not absolutely 
 unvaried, yet certainly from running rapidly to ruin. 
 
 And what has been the change among us within our 
 assumed limits? Why, some few words and phrases 
 have become less frequent ; some nearly forgotten ; 
 some very few, indeed, have perhaps actually disap- 
 peared just as might have happened, nay, actually 
 has happened, in any other equal period. On the 
 other hand, new ones have been introduced. Not, in- 
 deed, such as to compensate the loss of good old 
 English. The stock of vulgarisms is, upon the whole, 
 not at all diminished, but by no means improved. 
 Some of our newly introduced terms are expressive of 
 new ideas, bringing their foreign names with them, 
 which are accepted, though with a little attention we 
 might find names full as good in our own language. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 74 
 
 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 A much greater number is adopted without any pre- 
 tence of necessity at all, througli mere wantonness 
 and affectation, superseding even better native words. 
 There is no limit to this apery of what is supposed to 
 be fine and fashionable. It is to be found in the 
 deepest retirement, and in language no less 'than in 
 dress and manners, in which it may, indeed, be more 
 seriously mischievous. But to whichsoever of those 
 classes such novelties may belong, they are quite sure, 
 when they come among us, to be grossly or ridi- 
 culously misapplied, mispronounced, or both. Hap- 
 pily, however, they are held in very different estima- 
 tion from our old sound native phraseology by those 
 among us who occasionally make awkward attempts to 
 use them. Though they may seem to be sported off 
 very glibly, and with no little self-complacency or 
 vanity, the fancied necessity or propriety of using 
 them is always, while it lasts, a state of uneasy con- 
 straint, from which the embarrassed bumkin is glad of 
 an opportunity of escaping 
 
 " Vaga prosiliet froenls natura remotis." 
 
 Upon the whole, we may rest satisfied that the pro- 
 vincial dialects are in very safe* keeping, and very 
 likely so to remain. 
 
 The subject may be summed up and illustrated, 
 perhaps somewhat enlivened, by an anecdote. On 
 one of the many hazy days of the ungenial summer of 
 1823, the Author was attending an ingenious young 
 lady while she took a sketch of some picturesque ob- 
 ject in a retired village. A girl came from a cottage 
 with an umbrella in her hand, which she presented, 
 with an air of modest and simple civility, which be-
 
 INTRODUCTION. T5f 
 
 came her well, but with an address not quite so ex- 
 pressive of rustic simplicity : " Will you allow me, 
 ma'am, to offer you the use of my numlarel?" The 
 mixture of rusticity and affected refinement sounded 
 very comically. But it would be very hasty to infer 
 from it that the girl was unlearning her native phrase- 
 ology. Forty years ago, indeed, a village maiden 
 would not have offered a numbarel at all for the best 
 reason possible, that at that time no such thing had 
 been ever seen or heard of in a cottage, though now 
 there are few without them. But, whatever her civi- 
 lity might have been, she would not have expressed 
 it in such "holiday and lady terms." The fact is, that 
 the girl had, some how or other, picked up this as a 
 polite phrase used by gentlefolks, and proper to be 
 addressed to them. Perhaps it came from some lady's 
 chambermaid who had lately made a visit to her coun- 
 try cousins. Had she been overheard in familiar talk 
 with the other inmates of the cottage, she would 
 doubtless have used such language as her grand- 
 mother did. And even had she at the moment been 
 questioned why she offered the umbrella, it is not 
 likely that she was provided with any more specimens 
 of such dainty diction to carry on a dialogue, but that 
 her answer would have been, " Because ta smur of a 
 rain, and ta fare 'lection to rain pouring." Pure East 
 Anglian, such as was spoken not only by this mauther's 
 grandmother, but by that grandmother's great grand- 
 mother, and is likely to be spoken by the equally re- 
 mote posterity of the mouther herself.
 
 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 On the principal characteristics of East Anglian 
 Pronunciation. 
 
 Should any reader expect to find under this title, 
 rules by which he may learn to speak East Anglian, 
 he will be disappointed. No such attempt was in- 
 tended. If the coarse cacophonies of unlettered boors 
 were of any interest to philologists, the attempt to 
 convey them would be nugatory. As all ideas must 
 enter the mind by their proper inlets, those of sounds 
 (whatever some may have seemed to think) cannot be 
 admitted by the eye. Experiments of the kind have 
 indeed been made. The compilers of some Gram- 
 mars of modern languages have professed to prescribe 
 rules for correct pronunciation. Certainly a learner, 
 destitute of an oral teacher, may get on tolerably well, 
 to some extent, by comparing familiar sounds in his 
 mother tongue, with those at which he is taught to 
 aim, in the language he is endeavouring to acquire, 
 He will at least feel so well satisfied as not to disgust 
 himself, while he has his books before him. But the 
 moment he shuts them, and opens his mouth, he will be 
 likely to disgust those who are natural and competent 
 judges of his success. He may even puzzle them to 
 conceive what words he means to attempt. At any
 
 INTRODUCTION. 77 
 
 rate he must very soon come to certain shibboleths, 
 which exist in any language. For instance, whoever 
 acquired, by the help of printed directions, and com- 
 parative sounds, the exact pronunciation of the French 
 diphthong eu, the Italian uo, or the Spanish initial II ; 
 as exemplified in the substantive Jleur, the adjective 
 buono, and the verb llamar? All these are words cf 
 very common occurrence in those languages ; but how 
 few foreigners are able to pronounce them so as not to 
 give offence to a Parisian, a Roman, or a Castiliaa 
 ear? Still greater would be the difficulty of managing 
 the formidable clusters of consonants which abound 
 in the German, and other northern nations, our own 
 not excepted. These, however, are very successfully 
 smoothed down, and uttered " trippingly on the 
 tongue," by organs properly disciplined and habitu- 
 ated ; so that the sound seems widely different from 
 the appearance, and would never have been conveyed 
 by written rules, to one before unacquainted with it. 
 But it may be said that the instances produced, are 
 from the polished enunciation of highly refined lan- 
 guages, and are therefore nothing to us, who are not 
 concerned about euphonic niceties. On the contrary, 
 they strengthen our case. If so much difficulty exists 
 where great pains have been taken, there must be 
 much more, where none at all have been bestowed. 
 The writer, whose own ear is familiar with certain 
 sounds, may suppose that by putting letters together 
 into combinations which never actually co-existed in 
 any word, of any language, he is exhibiting such a strict 
 graphic delineation, as cannnot be mistaken. Where- 
 as, in point of fact, those only who know what he 
 
 H3
 
 78 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 means, can at all understand him, and even they may 
 sometimes be totally unable to conceive what he is 
 aiming at. After all, supposing the intended informa- 
 tion were effectually conveyed, who would care for it ? 
 None but those who already have it. Or if, by any 
 strange and inconceivable chance, any stranger should 
 wish to obtain a correct notion of East Anglian ortho- 
 epy, he must e'en come among us, and hear us talk ! 
 And it is fully to be expected that having heard our in- 
 describably odd splay-mouthed utterance, in which 
 all the organs of speech, tongue, teeth, and palate, 
 seem to be running foul of one another in full play, he 
 would acknowledge, that an idea of such " villainous 
 compounds " of ill sounds could not have been con- 
 veyed by any possible artifice ; and that we might as 
 well attempt to write down in legible and utterable 
 characters, the cawing of our rooks, or the croaking 
 of our frogs, if we supposed there were any difference 
 between their tones, and those of the same animals in 
 other districts. 
 
 But there is another, and a very different view in 
 which the subject of pronunciation may be considered, 
 and in which only it will be considered in this work. 
 Not for the gratification of a curiosity which, in fact, 
 nobody entertains, but in order to draw from it, cer- 
 tain dialectical characteristics, and to use it as a se- 
 condary, or rather concurrent proof of antiquity. Any 
 attempt, indeed, to investigate and ascertain accu- 
 rately the pronunciation of a language, dead many 
 centuries since, must be vague and unsatisfactory. 
 But at least some general principles or outlines of pro- 
 nunciation may reasonably be conceived to have
 
 INTRODUCTION. 79 
 
 passed traditionally into a modern derived language, 
 of which an ancient and defunct tongue forms the 
 main substance. And the less change that has been 
 made in the forms of words, the more similarity is 
 likely to remain of their original sounds. Thus, it is 
 generally and probably supposed that more of the ge- 
 nuine pronunciation of Latin exists in the modern 
 Italian, than in any other of the languages of Europe. 
 Into every one of them, indeed, a multitude of Latin 
 words has been transferred, but adapted both in form 
 and sound, to the peculiar structure of each, and by 
 no means constituting the main substance and bulk of 
 it It may, indeed, be contended, and with much 
 probability, that on the Spanish, almost as fundamen- 
 tally and substantially Latin as the Italian, the gra- 
 vity and dignity of the classic language is more likely 
 to be adequately represented than in the exquisitely 
 smoothed and polished tones of the present language 
 of Italy. However that may be, on a perfectly simi- 
 lar principle, the English must be believed to retain a 
 greater number of original Saxon sounds as well as 
 form. Indeed, modern English seems to be even 
 more substantially Saxon, than either Italian or Span- 
 ish is Latin. It certainly does not become the Editor 
 to play the critic in either of those languages. With 
 much diffidence he submits his opinion to those who 
 are competent to judge, together with the reasons on 
 which he founds it. We have at least as many nouns 
 and verbs from the Saxon, as either of those languages 
 from the Latin. We have also retained, without bor- 
 rowing from other languages, the " whole body of 
 numerals, auxiliary verbs, articles, pronouns, adverbs,
 
 80 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGL1A. 
 
 conjunctions, and prepositions," which, as Sir Thomas 
 Browne well observes, " are the distinguishing and 
 lasting parts of a language." Whereas, on the other 
 hand, many of these have been borrowed by the 
 southern from the northern languages. In particular, 
 they have assumed articles, definite and indefinite, of 
 which there is neither in their parent tongue. They 
 have abolished inflexions of case, in substantives and 
 adjectives, supplying their places by prepositions, and 
 retaining no other differences of terminations, than 
 seemed necessary to distinguish gender and number. 
 They have made much alteration in the structure of 
 the verb ; adopting a new auxiliary in the active voice, 
 and introducing compound tenses, which in the Latin 
 exist in the passive only ; and increasing the number 
 of those tenses in both. It might have been observed 
 before, but better now than not at all, that we retain, 
 with little variation, the Saxon modes of declension 
 and conjugation. 
 
 Allowing to the English Language at large, this 
 ample claim for Saxonism, we have farther to observe, 
 that in its provincial dialects, that claim may have 
 been more or less varied or superseded by local 
 causes ; principally by a partial commixture of words 
 from other sources, introduced by vicinity, and pro- 
 bably accompanied by their native pronunciation, -or 
 something like it. Any one of those dialects which 
 can refer to the Saxon, the greatest number of its 
 words now actually in use, must be allowed to ad- 
 vance the best proof of antiquity and originality. 
 And that proof must be allowed to acquire additional 
 confirmation, if, on comparison of its modes of pro-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 81 
 
 nunciation with the powers of vowels and diphthongs, 
 a fair presumption can be established of identity, or 
 near similarity to the Saxon pronunciation. Of those 
 powers, as they actually existed while the Saxon was 
 a living language, it would be absurd to pronounce 
 confidently. We must make our approaches to them 
 cautiously. We cannot be in much danger if we do 
 not venture farther than the mere consideration of 
 greater or less breadth. Of this, perhaps, a pretty 
 safe criterion may be established thus : It has been 
 laid down as a principle by etymologists, that in the 
 derivation of words, and in tracing them from one lan- 
 guage into another, all the vowels may be considered 
 as one letter. A synoptical view of their gradations 
 and changes may be exhibited by taking them out of 
 alphabetical order, and ranging them according to 
 their organic powers. Taking z and y as homotonous 
 (and they are sufficiently so in Anglo-Saxon and in 
 modern English, for our present purpose) and placing 
 them in the middle, the sound will pass one way 
 through e to a, and in the opposite way through u to 
 o ; in either case, the vowel becoming broader at each 
 step. Thus, a e i=y u o. 
 
 But the two extreme vowels, being themselves also 
 commutable, the changes might be rather conceived 
 circular than rectilinear, bringing the extreme points 
 of the line into contact. If the interchanges of diph- 
 thongs cannot be so simply exhibited, neither is there 
 so much need of it. Their bearings on the vowels, 
 and on each other, may, without difficulty, be deter- 
 mined by the vowels of which they are respectively 
 compounded.
 
 82 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Now, it is observable, that in a great multitude of 
 modern English words derived from Anglo-Saxon, 
 the principal vowels or diphthongs have acquired 
 breadth in the course of their descent. Such are CM, 
 a cow ; kus, a house; brun, brown, &c. 
 
 A very long list might easily be made, in which other 
 vowels or diphthongs, even all of them, are concerned. 
 But to our present argument, these few, in which one 
 of them only is included, may suffice. If it be urged, 
 that we have no means of being sure that these words 
 were pronounced, either with the long or the short 
 sound of the modern English u, this cannot be denied. 
 Suppose it then to have had something like the power 
 of the Italian u, still it has grown broader by its con- 
 version into our broadest diphthong. But this ten- 
 dency to greater breadtli, observable in the English 
 language in general, in its Saxon derivatives, is by us 
 East Angles absolutely inverted. We are perpetually 
 endeavouring to go back again into the original Saxon 
 narrowness. 
 
 The most general and pervading characteristic of 
 our pronunciation, which may, indeed, be called its 
 essential character, is a narrowness and tenuity, pre- 
 cisely the reverse of the round, sonorous, " mouth- 
 filling" tones of Northern English. The broad and 
 open sounds of vowels, the rich and full tones of diph- 
 thongs, are generally thus reduced. Generally not 
 universally. Some few words become broader in our 
 mouths; not that we so make them fuller and more 
 flowing, but for the most part harsher and coarser. 
 Instances will occur in their proper places. From this 
 prevalent principle of narrowing, it results that, if it
 
 INTRODUCTION. 83 
 
 be asserted, as doubtless it will, that we speak the 
 worse English, what we do speak must undeniably be 
 more like Saxon in sound as well as in form. 
 
 This narrowness of utterance is, in some parts of 
 our country, rendered still more offensive to ears not 
 accustomed to it, by being delivered in a sort of shrill 
 whining recitativo, which may very possibly bring us 
 to a nearer and more correct resemblance to our pa- 
 rent tongue. This may, perhaps, be one of those dis- 
 tinctions without essential difference, already alluded 
 to. It prevails principally, not exclusively, in the 
 county of Suffolk. So far, however, as to be com- 
 monly called in Norfolk, the " Suffolk whine." The 
 voice of the speaker (or singer) is perpetually running 
 up and down, through half an octave, or perhaps a 
 whole one, of sharp notes; with now and then a most 
 querulous cadence. This squeaking tune is very dis- 
 agreeable to sensitive organs ; and often becomes very 
 ludicrous, when something, even of merry import, is 
 uttered with this " dying fall." 
 
 It is time to have done with generalising, and to 
 
 Irregular Sounds of Vowels and Diphthongs. 
 
 There is a great multitude of English words, even 
 in the mouths of the most correct speakers, in which 
 every one of the voAvels and diphthongs stands as a 
 representative of the power of some other. Such ano- 
 malies are to be found, more or less, in every lan- 
 guage. In our own they are said particularly to 
 abound, to the great annoyance and perplexity of 
 foreigners, in their attempts to acquire it. An ample,
 
 84 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 if not a complete, enumeration of these disorderly 
 words is to be found in the valuable work by which the 
 present Archdeacon of Stafford announced himself to 
 the public as a philologist above forty years ago.* As 
 there are many particular points on which practice is 
 not uniform, should a reader not feel himself disposed 
 to acquiese in every determination of she learned wri- 
 ter, he Avill be sure to find a great deal of useful and 
 amusing information. The same method is adopted 
 here ; only that complete enumeration is not attempt- 
 ed ; but a select and competent number of examples 
 given under the different heads. It may well be con- 
 ceived that such deviations from strict regularity will 
 become more licentious still, in provincial dialects. 
 Those only which are peculiar to us, or which we use 
 in uncommon and unwarranted latitude will be noted 
 here. 
 
 The Vouel A 
 
 has regularly four different sounds in English words, 
 which are commonly thus distinguished : 
 fl, long, as in ale ; 
 short, as in hat ; 
 open, as in balm ; 
 broad, as in call. 
 
 1. Ex. Have, and its inflexions has, hast, &c. 
 Catch thank sack wax. 
 Gather radish, &c. 
 
 It is not asserted that this pronunciation is peculiar 
 to us, or that it is in toto provincial. No doubt, some 
 such words, though not many, are so pronounced very 
 
 * Nares' Elements of Orthoepy, Svo. Payne 1784.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 85 
 
 generally ; whether ever properly, is no question for 
 us. Be they many or few, and be the usage right or 
 wrong, it is certain that, on our principle of narrowing, 
 we greatly increase the number, and therefore the ob- 
 servation is properly made here. The usage prevails 
 more in some places than in others. In and about the 
 town of Lynn, for instance, it seems as if the short a 
 were in all cases to be rejected, and short e accepted 
 in its stead. A bad man, is there, a bed men, &c. 
 Whatever may be said of such extreme and ridiculous 
 frittering, the pronunciation is by no means destitute 
 of ancient authority. In Spenser we find ivex for tuax. 
 In many of Percy's Ancient Ballads, the inflexions of 
 the verb have, are printed hes, hest, &c. from heve. Isl. 
 hef, habeo. In Wicklitfe's New Testament is geder, 
 for gather ; in Chaucer ketch for catch, aad lest for 
 last. And if this be not enough, esh (our name of the 
 ash-tree) is the very Anglo-Saxon esc* itself; grass 
 is from gres, as indeed we very commonly pronounce 
 it ; black is from blec, trap from treppe, and mantle from 
 mentl. In which last instance also, we retain the iden- 
 tical Saxon word. 
 
 2. There are some few instances in which the short 
 a is even pared down to short i. We say January for 
 January, and kin for can, the auxiliary verb. In these 
 instances it is plain that a has passed through e to i ; 
 for the intermediate form is often used. 
 
 3. The long a is in some words reduced to long e. 
 Ex. Credle for cradle. This is among Ray's North 
 Country words ; doubtless ancient, though no precise 
 
 * In the Anglo-Saxon it is plain that sc was pronounced as it is in 
 the modern Italian, like our sh. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 86 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Authority is given there, or at present occurs else- 
 where. 
 
 4. In words, in which a has commonly its open 
 sound, we make it intermediate between that and the 
 long one ; rather broader than the latter but narrower 
 than the former. Here is a difficulty. Certainly no 
 English word contains such a sound. Perhaps the 
 nearest approach to it is the bleat of a very young 
 lamb. 
 
 Ex. Calf dance staff glass. 
 Cask glance raft grasp. 
 
 On the true pronunciation of these and similar 
 words there does not seem to be perfect agreement. 
 We, however, have no opinion to give (V. Nares) whe- 
 ther they are to have the open, or something nearly 
 approaching the short, sound of the vowel, or whether 
 some are to follow one rule, some the other ; it is very 
 certain that none of them ought to have the narrow, 
 and somewhat lengthened or drawled sound which we 
 give them. 
 
 5. When the a would be short, if it were not length- 
 ened by the e final mute. We are determined to have 
 it short at all events. 
 
 Ex. Bare stare dare flare, &c. 
 
 Now bar and dar both occur in old ballads. Besides 
 one of them is positively Danish, bar, nudus. 
 
 Learners, however, must be cautious here. All 
 words of this form are not to be indiscriminately so 
 docked. For instance, care, snare, spare, and many 
 others. Every body knows how bitterly foreigners 
 complain of the anomalies in English pronunciation, 
 and into what scrapes they often get themselves, by
 
 INTRODUCTION. 87 
 
 following too implicitly what they suppose to be rules. 
 To a like danger would they be exposed, who at- 
 tempted to speak East Anglian, without a familiar ac- 
 quaintance with it. It is an undertaking of much 
 nicety. 
 
 6. In a few words, short or open a is made long. 
 Ex. Nasty natural past barn. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxon bcern, horreum, will go some way, 
 if not far enough, to justify us. 
 
 7. In a few others, open a, either by itself or com- 
 bined with r, has the sound of short u. 
 
 Ex. Rather farther. 
 
 The latter word, having become futther, receives aa 
 additional improvement (by the very legitimate change 
 of the cognate mutes d and ), and becomes Judder. 
 In like manner, though in inverted order, a ladder be- 
 comes first a latther, and then a luttker. 
 
 8. In some words, in which a has commonly the 
 sound of short o, the short a is used instead of it. 
 
 Ex. Squab waddle wash wander. 
 Swamp want wasp swan. 
 
 Certainly many words of like form are regularly 
 pronounced with the short a ; as stab, saddle, cash, 
 sand, &c. These have their proper pronunciation 
 among us ; but, as was observed on a former occasion, 
 we extend it unwarrantably. Our countryman Tusser 
 rhymes want to plant ; but though he may be strongly 
 suspected of having pronounced both the words alike, 
 a rhyme in itself will not prove this point. Our poets 
 too frequently rhyme to the eye instead of the ear ; 
 even the most correct of them occasionally. Pope 
 for instance, rhymes vice to caprice; yet surely no one
 
 VOCABULARY OF EASTTANGLIA. 
 
 will believe that he pronounced the two syllables alike. 
 Perhaps, however, this license was not known to the 
 simplicity of Tusser's muse. Wickliffe spells the word 
 wash, ivaisch. It must be inferred, that he at least 
 pronounced the word narrower than the modern usage. 
 And when we can go fairly back as far as Wickliffe, 
 we are at next door to Saxonism. 
 
 9. In some words, in which a is followed by n, it 
 takes the sound of o, as sand, sond ; land, lond. This 
 mode of pronunciation is perhaps more generally used 
 in Suffolk. 
 
 10. In some words, in which a is followed by r, the 
 r is dropped. 
 
 Ex. Harsh marsh scarce, &c. 
 
 And to warrant us, there is Anglo-Saxon hasc, asper, 
 of which word, as has been before observed, the an- 
 cient pronunciation was hash, as it is with us. 
 
 The Vowel E 
 
 has only two sounds regularly, 
 
 Long, as in equal; 
 short, as in bed. 
 
 1. The short e is in many words sounded as short a. 
 Ex. Merchant sermon settle when. 
 
 Errand vermin temper then. 
 In some such words (but not in all our instances) 
 this is neither modern nor provincial ; but surely never 
 correct. Ben Jonson has marchant. This, by the 
 way, may be right, as it is certainly the French mar- 
 chand. Piers Plowman gives sahile for settle. Tusser, 
 Wickliffe, and Chaucer have than; and the very first 
 word of the Canterbury Tales is tvhanne.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 89 
 
 2. The short e sometimes becomes short i. 
 Ex. Yet men ever kettle. 
 
 Yes hen seldom tremble. 
 
 Neither is this usage our own, but only a great fa- 
 vourite. There is a great abundance of venerably old 
 authority for it. Holinshed and Tusser have sildom. 
 Wickliffe has togidre, and Tusser togither. He also 
 rhymes bless with miss and kiss. Wickliffe has yit and 
 yhis. Moreover, yet is in Anglo-Saxon git, kettle is 
 cyttty hen is keen, and end is cende. 
 
 3. Short e is in some words pronounced like short u. 
 Ex. Fellow mellow elder wether. 
 
 Yellow elbow better letter. 
 In these cases it seems to have passed through i into 
 n. It may be observed (though this is perhaps not 
 exactly the right place) that the same liberty is taken 
 with words in which a diphthong has the sound of 
 short e, as in heifer, pheasant, andfeather. 
 
 4. E long is sometimes changed into i. 
 Ex. Glebe glibe. 
 
 The Vowl I 
 has two regular sounds ; 
 
 Long, as in abide ; 
 short, as in bid. 
 
 The short i has among us sometimes the power of 
 short e. 
 
 Ex. Pit kiln silver stint. 
 Bid mill cistern sit. 
 
 This usage is not very general ; more perhaps in 
 Suffolk than in Norfolk. However that may be, it is 
 venerably antique. Tusser uses kel for kiln. Hed, 
 3
 
 90 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 hefs, and melle, are used by Chaucer. Selver occurs in 
 the Percy Ballads ; and melk, bed, and pet, are actually 
 Anglo-Saxon. In !&]. print is prants. 
 
 The fowl 
 has also two regular sounds ; 
 
 Long, as in mode ; 
 
 short, as in modern. 
 
 1. We substitute the short sound for the long in 
 Droll scroll roll mole. 
 
 2. Short o has sometimes the sound of short a. 
 Ex. From slop drop soft. 
 
 Hornet morning Norfolk. 
 
 And we are at no loss for authority. The Anglo- 
 Saxon form of the prepositions/Tom isfram ; and our 
 word morning is from the Anglo-Saxon margene, Au- 
 rora. 
 
 3. The long o has often a peculiar sound explained 
 hereafter under the diphthong ou ; the most conveni- 
 ent place for that explanation, which is extended to two 
 other sounds ; this being the first of the three. The 
 words droll, &c. under Observation 1, are sometimes 
 thus pronounced, and so are 
 
 Old told sold scold, &c. 
 
 4. It has also in some words, the common short 
 sound of the diphthong oo (in foot}, or that of the 
 vowel u in pull. 
 
 Ex. Bone stone whole. 
 
 5. It has the sound of short M, in the imperfect 
 tenses of some verbs ending in ive, as strove, drove, 
 (pron. struv, druv,) but not in the substantive drove, 
 nor perhaps in any other substantive. It has however 
 the same sound in hither and wither.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 91 
 
 6. The same change is made in words in which o has 
 commonly the long sound of oo. 
 
 Ex. Prove move. 
 
 Both which words are rhymed by Tusser to love. 
 It is very fairly to be presumed that he pronounced 
 them as we do, pruv and muv. 
 
 7. The short o becomes short u, in 
 Ex. Not font front bomb. 
 
 In Blomfield's History of Norfolk, vol. x. p. 11, 8vo 
 edit, is an extract from a churchwarden's account at 
 East Dereham in 14-68, for the expenses of the new 
 Funte. That beautiful baptistery is still the Funte. 
 
 8. has sometimes the sound of long e, as move 
 meve. 
 
 The Votoel U 
 
 has likewise a short sound, as in tub, and a long one, 
 as in tube. 
 
 1. One of its irregular sounds, very frequent and 
 general, is that of short oo, as it occurs in the word 
 bull. This irregularity is corrected by some of our best 
 speakers, to the legitimate short sound of the vowel 
 itself. 
 
 Ex. Pull puss pulley pudding. 
 Full bush bushel bully. 
 
 2. We sometimes meet with the very reverse of 
 this usage. The sound of short oo is given where it 
 ought not to be. 
 
 Ex. Punch bunch bundle. 
 
 3. The short u, forming with n a negative particle 
 at the beginning of compound words, is invariably 
 pronounced on. And so it ought to be, in words of 
 Saxon origin at least, for it is the Saxon particle. 
 We are apt, indeed, to carry it beyond its proper limit;
 
 92 VOCABULARY OP EAST ANGLIA, 
 
 and where a word of Latin derivation has assumed the 
 equivalent Latin particle in, however neatly it may 
 have been fitted and jointed to its word, we tear them 
 asunder, and substitute our own. Thus the words 
 impossible and irregular are with us, onpossible and 
 onregular. Unpossible is certainly Old English. 
 
 4. To the syllable ur (and consequently to ir and 
 or, which have often the same sound) we give a pro- 
 nunciation certainly our own. 
 
 Ex. Third word burn curse. 
 Bird curd dirt worse. 
 
 It is one which can be neither intelligibly described, 
 nor represented by other letters. It must be heard. 
 Of all legitimate English sounds, it seems to come 
 nearest to open a ; or rather to the rapid utterance of 
 the a in the word arrow, supposing it be caught be- 
 fore it light on the r. Tusser may be suspected, 
 from a rhyme, to have thus pronounced the word 
 worse; shert (pronounced shart), for shirt is Old Eng- 
 lish, but in pronouncing it in our manner, great 
 care must be taken, not to touch the r.* As to 
 Gothic authority, the only instance that has been 
 found, exactly in point, is one which cannot be offered 
 without some scruple and hesitation. It is Islandic, 
 tdd, stercus. 
 
 5. In words of some of these forms, we merely leave 
 out the r, and pronounce the u short. 
 
 * Bahd has been used to convey our sound of bird. Certainly 
 this gets rid of the danger of r , but the h must as certainly be un- 
 derstood to lengthen the sound of a , which is quite inconsistent 
 with our snap-short utterance of the syllable. In short it must be 
 heard from the mouth of a correct speaker.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 93 
 
 Ex. Worse purse curse nurse wus pus, &c. 
 May we venture to defend ourselves by Anglo- 
 Saxon pusa, marsupium ? 
 
 6. The u is sometimes merely turned to open a, and 
 the r retained. 
 
 Ex. Burst curse nurse. 
 
 We are in some degree kept in countenance by 
 Anglo-Saxon bcerst, ruptus. 
 
 7. The short u is sometimes changed into short e, 
 as shut, shet, shutter, shelter, which is the universal pro- 
 nunciation in Suffolk, and in the eastern part of Nor- 
 folk. Chaucer has shet. Wickliffe narrows it still 
 more. And lastly, it is the true Anglo-Saxon scyttan, 
 claudere, whence we have, 
 
 8. The short u, convertible into short i. 
 Ex. Shut. 
 
 In Lowland Scotch, the common form of the verb 
 put is pit. 
 
 Irregular Sounds of Diphthongs. 
 
 Ai 
 
 1. Followed by r is sounded as if there were no i. 
 Ex. Chair fair pair stair. 
 
 In Islandic pair is par ; no doubt the Latin word 
 adopted. 
 
 2. It is sometimes pronounced broad, as it com- 
 monly is in Greek ; or as it is in the modern Italian, 
 so as to make the proper sound of each vowel in a 
 diphthong, perceptible to the ear, if, indeed, it be not 
 thought a profanation of the Bella Lingua Toscana, to 
 use any of its fine tones to illustrate those of our tra- 
 montane Gothic linguaggia ! To the Greek we can- 
 not be sure that any such affront is offered.
 
 94 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Ex. Plain gain pain fail. 
 
 Nail twain maid. 
 
 Nay, in some few words it is made a broad, as 
 oi. We do not take a bait but a boit. 
 
 3. Sometimes it is like open a, or a followed by h. 
 Ex. May play pray stay. 
 
 Mayor* (pronounced as monosyllable). Islandic, 
 mah, may. 
 
 4. In one instance, at least, at is sounded like ee. 
 A chain is a cheen ; and so it was in Old English. 
 
 Au 
 
 has very generally the sound attributed to the vowel a, 
 in observation A 4. 
 
 Ex. Aunt paunch laugh. 
 Draught saunter. 
 
 An 
 
 is in many words scarcely to be considered as a diph- 
 thong. The vowel a is pronounced open, without any 
 help from iv, and u holding itself ready to begin 
 another syllable, as if another vowel were coming 
 after it, thus, supposing the word drawer, divided and 
 pronounced dra-iuer. In order to pronounce dratv alone, 
 er only is to be cut off, and w left with something of 
 its own power. To those who are not used to it, this 
 may be somewhat difficult, if there be no following 
 vowel. It is easy enough to say " stra-w is dear," 
 
 * Forty years ago, the Chief Magistrate of the City of Norwich 
 was called the Mahr ; and probably some elderly and old-fashioned 
 people call him so still. But in the progress of refinement, the 
 pronunciation is in general smoothed and polished ; and that ancient 
 city is now ( as the borough of Lynn has been time immemorial ) 
 governed by a worshipful personage called The Mare.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 95 
 
 la-w is expensive. But to pronounce straw and law- 
 alone, in this manner, nice aim must be taken.* 
 Ea 
 
 1. Is sometimes like short i. 
 Ex. Head heaven teat each. 
 
 Breast ready thread bleach. 
 In Percy's Ballads ych and stydfast occur. Thrid 
 is Old English. And there is even Saxon authority 
 in Anglo-Saxon title, mamma. 
 
 2. It is like short u in 
 
 Ex. Feather leather weather. 
 Pleasant measure pleasure. 
 
 In pronouncing the last two words great care must 
 be taken to admit no power of the letter h. They 
 must be muzzer and pluzzer. 
 
 3. It is sometimes like short a 
 Ex. Earnest leather breakfast. 
 
 Learn early weather.f 
 
 Here we have on our side Anglo-Saxon arlice, ma- 
 tutine. 
 
 4. Sometimes it is like long a. 
 
 Ex. Deal beard spread early.f 
 
 Earth hear bean search. 
 
 This is a well-known Hibernian pronunciation. 
 How Pat came by it, is not for us to inquire or care. 
 
 * The pronunciation of the word straw varies very much. It Is 
 sometimes spoken as if it was written stra, without the w, and ha* 
 the long sound of a, as in ale. At other times, as if it were written 
 strar, and pronounced like star ; as are also saw and law. EDIT. 
 
 f If the same words be found as examples under different obser- 
 vations, it is not to be taken as an oversight. They are pronounced 
 variously.
 
 96 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 We have carefully handed it down from our own fore- 
 fathers. Anglo-Saxon ivac, infirmus, Iqf, reliquiae, &c. 
 
 5. It has the sound of long e in some cases in which 
 it ought not to have it. 
 
 Ex. Deaf tread endeavour. 
 
 Spread dead instead . 
 
 Wickliffe has both defe and dede ; and the latter is 
 in Percy's Ballads. 
 
 6. Frequently (and particularly in Suffolk) it has 
 the sound of short . 
 
 Ex. Leather weather, &c. 
 Ee 
 
 1. Is sometimes sounded like long a. 
 Ex. Geer cheer beer. 
 
 Sneer fleer peer. 
 
 Whether we might be able to defend all these re- 
 puted mispronunciations would only be known by 
 taking more trouble than the most favourable issue 
 would requite, and finding more opportunities than 
 are likely to occur. Two of them, however, may be 
 easily explained if not vindicated. When we call a 
 Peer of the realm a Pair, as if we thought him equal 
 to two ordinary men, we use the word exactly as we 
 received it with its proper French sound. For a 
 reason exactly similar we call beer, bear. It is from 
 the Norman French, bere ; and there can be no rea- 
 son to suppose that the vowel e in the middle of a 
 word had in that ancient language any other sound 
 than that of e masculine, as it is called, in modern 
 French ; and that sound is exactly the long a in Eng- 
 lish. 
 
 2. It has sometimes the sound of long z. 
 Ex. Freeze frize.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 97 
 
 Ei and Ey 
 
 1. Have sometimes the sound of open a. 
 Ex. Either neither their. 
 
 They grey neighbour. 
 
 This pronunciation is unquestionably ancient. Ei- 
 ther and neither are, in Old English, other and nather ; 
 sometimes other and nother and norther. Wickliffe 
 has even nouther. Ather is in Lowland Scotch. So, 
 probably, by easy analogy is nather, though Jamieson 
 has not inserted it. Their is in Old English written 
 ther, which is but a step to our word thar. 
 
 2. They have sometimes the sound of the diphthong 
 ai, in observation ai 2. 
 
 Ex. Deign either leisure conceive. 
 Vein weigh neighbour receipt. 
 Grey convey obey weigh. 
 We may place some reliance here on Anglo-Saxon 
 tzyther, uter. 
 
 le 
 
 Has the sound of short i. 
 Ex. Friend field yield. 
 
 Frinde is frequent in Old English ; and Chaucer 
 has felde, a step to jild, our word. 
 
 Oi. and Oy 
 
 Are very commonly narrowed to long i. 
 Ex. Boil join poison destroy. 
 
 Point soil foil spoil. 
 
 Ancient authority is good and abundant. In Percy's 
 Ballads we \\avefile for/of/, and spylt for spoiled. Tus- 
 ser also has the latter. Wickliffe has destrie for de- 
 stroy ; and we find Anglo-Saxon besylan, maculare. 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 98 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Oo 
 
 1. Is in some words narrowed to long u. 
 
 Ex. Fool spoon noose goose moor. 
 Moon soon boot noon. 
 
 We despise the ridicule we have incurred by this 
 paltry sound, which, after all, is by no means peculiar 
 to us. Should these things be ever thoroughly in- 
 vestigated, as they deserve to be, it will be found in 
 other and distant districts ; in the County of Devon 
 certainly, and no less certain in Lowland Scotch. It 
 is ancient. Culeandsune are both in Percy's Ballads; 
 and we find in Somner Anglo-Saxon stupian, se in- 
 clinare, and Brid-guma, sponsus. 
 
 2. It is sometimes docked into short u. 
 Ex. Hood wood wool foot. 
 
 Spoon roof proof broom. 
 
 This mode of pronouncing the word spoon is much 
 rarer than the former, but a spoonful is invariably a 
 spunful. A brume also is a much commoner domestic 
 utensil than a brum ; but if it happened to be made of 
 hair, it ought by all means to be called a karren brum. 
 As to ancient authority, Tusser uses both Jut and tvul. 
 Ruff is Old English. And there are Anglo-Saxon 
 tvul, lana, and ivuman, faemina. 
 
 3. It has the sound of long o in many more words 
 than are commonly so pronounced, whether properly 
 or improperly. 
 
 Ex. Moor poor took. 
 
 In fact words of this form are, and ever have been, 
 readily commutable by the help of e final, mute. 
 Toke, none, and rome are, in Old English, very com- 
 mon modes of spelling took, noon, and room.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 99 
 
 On and Ow. 
 
 In these last of our diphthong sounds we have the 
 greatest difficulty to encounter, whether in vindicating 
 our practice, or in conveying an idea of it to those 
 who never heard it. In truth, we make very strange 
 havoc with them. They have, with us, three different 
 sounds, all equally departing in different ways from 
 euphony, and from approved usage; sounds which 
 cannot be represented, and to which it is not tb be 
 conceived that any natural organs can give easy and 
 habitual utterance, if any utterance at all, but those 
 of a native East-Angle, or of an old he-cat. 
 
 1. The first is a broad twanging sound somewhat, 
 but not exactly, as if it were written au-iv. These 
 three letters are not to be considered as a triphthong; 
 the tc standing independent, and ready, either to ap- 
 ply its force to an initial vowel following, or to rest in 
 itself, if nothing follows, as in observation aw 1. 
 
 Ex. Ought low owe moult. 
 
 Dough mow glow soul, &c. 
 
 2. The second is considerably narrower, and may 
 be attempted by endeavouring to sound the open a 
 with to after it, as above described. 
 
 Ex. Power sour devour. 
 Shower scour our. 
 
 3. The third is narrower still ; and may be de- 
 scribed as about midway between the legitimate sound 
 of ou and that of long u. Or it may be easier to at- 
 tempt the pronunciation (should any one think of 
 attemping it at all) by lengthening out long M, in- 
 stead of open u, as in the former case. 
 
 Ex. Cow sow plow. 
 Now crowd proud.
 
 100 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 For narrowing this diphthong, some how or other, 
 if not precisely that, we may at least have taken a 
 hint from the Anglo-Saxon, in which cu is a cow, hits 
 a house, pundls a pound, andbrun is brown. 
 
 4. Ou is sometimes reduced to short u. 
 Ex. Could would should. 
 
 5. Where it has generally that sound before gh. 
 Ex. Tough rough enough, 
 
 We give it our third sound of that diphthong. Tow 
 for tough is very common. And Chaucer has written 
 row for rough. 
 
 6. W'ords in which ou is commonly sounded like an. 
 Ex. Bought sought nought thought, 
 
 are pronounced without the Jirst sound of ou. In a 
 Churchwarden's account for the year 1468, the word 
 bought is written boivt. No doubt they pronounced it 
 as they pronounced bow. The two diphthongs an and 
 ou seem to be pretty easily commutable. Sir Thomas 
 More and the poet Skelton both spell the word naughty, 
 as we pronounce (and most likely so did they) noughty. 
 
 7. It is notorious that the diphthongs ew and ow are 
 very apt to be confounded. The verb sew, for instance, 
 is generally pronounced sow. Many like instances 
 might be given. The most common if not the only 
 liberties we take are, 
 
 Yow (with our first sound) for ewe. 
 Douce for deuce. 
 
 Fow (with our third sound) for Jew. 
 Enew for enow, pi. n. of enough.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 101 
 
 Irregular uses of Consonants. 
 
 Ffor V 
 
 Ex. Vane vetch vagary vat. 
 For the substitution in every one of these words, we 
 have the authority of Chaucer, or of some other an- 
 cient writer. We even find Anglo-Saxon^a^, torcular. 
 
 G Jinal, hard. 
 
 If g final be followed by an initial vowel or diph- 
 thong, or if it terminates a syllable in the body of a 
 word, and the next syllable begins with a vowel or 
 diphthong, the g is pronounced as if it belonged to 
 the following word or syllable. This is more general 
 and constant in Suffolk ; variably, partially, or locally, 
 used in Norfolk. If any one be curious to form an 
 exact idea of this harsh and offensive twang, let him 
 endeavour to pronounce, with strict attention to it, 
 the phrase, " bringing in, and flinging out." 
 
 L mute. 
 
 It is often dropped in words of the following form, 
 and the o is pronounced as in observation ou f 1. 
 
 Ex. Old cold told sold hold. 
 The same usage is also Northern English and Low- 
 land Scotch, and is, indeed, analogous to the general 
 pronunciation of such words as could, would, &c. In 
 fact it is Old English. 
 
 R adscitiiious. 
 
 It is added to words ending in certain vowels and 
 diphthongs, as au>, OIK, and the open a final, in the 
 K 3
 
 102 
 
 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 names of women. " Set the window-r open." " Law-r 
 and justice." ' Anna-r is at home." It is not meant 
 that this is peculiar to our, or any Provincial Dialect. 
 But we constantly use it. It is even sometimes heard 
 from the mouths of persons of education and refine- 
 ment, whose delicate ears, forsooth, cannot endure a 
 hiatu?, but who thus produce a much worse sound, 
 in this offensive and absurd use of the canine letter ; 
 indeed, adopt a positive vulgarism. If the hiatus 
 must, at all risks, be filled up, it is pity some softer 
 mode of accomplishing it cannot be devised. 
 
 The aspirated Mutes. 
 
 We seem to have a general disposition to smooth 
 them ; which is particularly observable when th is fol- 
 lowed by r, the h is invariably dropped. 
 
 Ex. Throat thread threaten through. 
 
 W and V commutable. 
 
 These two letters, by perfectly correct speakers, 
 are uniformly substituted for each other, with as much 
 nicety as, in some parts of England, the initial as- 
 piration is used wheresoever it ought not to be, and 
 sunk where it is actually necessary. Of this barbarous 
 violation of euphony, we seem to be quite clear. Nor 
 is it at all common to be scrupulously exact in the 
 misapplication of the two cognate letters, now before 
 us. In general, tu for v is used by rude rustics, and v 
 for tv, by those whose diction has been polished by a 
 town breeding. For the liberties we take with these 
 kindred letters, some excuse may be derived from 
 eomparision of Anglo-Saxon with Islandic words.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 103 
 
 Many, which in the former begin with w, have in the 
 latter, an initial v. Vide Somner and Hickes. 
 
 To these might be added some very perverse uses of 
 single consonants ; but occurring only in particular in- 
 stances, and reducible to general rules, besides being 
 undeniably exposed to the charge of positive corrup- 
 tion, they will be better enumerated under that name 
 at the end of this essay, as in their proper intermediate 
 place. Tao intractable to be brought under these ge- 
 neral remarks on pronunciation, they have still less 
 claim to be formally inserted hi the vocabulary. In 
 the mean time, then, we will pass on to some observa- 
 tions on 
 
 Syllables. 
 
 The system of English accentuation has a direct 
 tendency to produce indistinctness in pronouncing 
 final syllables. Very few indeed, if any, genuine 
 English words are accented there ; and we generally 
 take the liberty of adjusting, as much as possible, to 
 our own practice, the accentuation of those which we 
 adopt from other languages. Even in such words, an 
 accent on the last syllable is almost invariably a mere 
 mark of necessary distinction of one word from ano- 
 ther, with which it is liable to be confounded. * This 
 general care to avoid touching final syllables may 
 easily be conceived to produce a more particular neg- 
 lect of them in the illiterate, with whom the language 
 is merely oral, who never think of such a thing as or- 
 thography ; still more in those who use some provin- 
 
 * The substantive decent, and the verb accent may, theniselrei 
 serve as well as any for instances.
 
 104 VOCABULARY OF EAST ~ANGLIA. 
 
 cial form of it. Whether we excel particularly in this 
 respect is not our concern to determine. We are to 
 contribute what we have, at least what has been noted, 
 and leave it to comparison with what others may pro- 
 duce. Certain it is that we utter final syllables in 
 such a clumsy, careless, and slurring manner, as often 
 to defy all guess at the letters of which they may con- 
 sist. And if at the same time, a little disguise be be- 
 stowed on preceding syllables, it becomes very effec- 
 tual indeed. Who, for instance, quite unskilled in our 
 dialect, could construe the words in the first column 
 below, if he laid his hand over the second ? Still less 
 would he be likely to interpret, if he heard them pro- 
 perly pronounced. 
 
 Ashup, eshup, or ushup, an ash-heap. 
 
 Muckup, . a muck-heap. 
 
 Nettus or nuttus, a neat-house. 
 
 Duffus or dowus, a dove-house. 
 
 Allus, ellus, or ullus, an ale-house. 
 
 Wuddus,* a wood-house. 
 
 Sid us, sideways. 
 
 Bridle, bridewell, 
 
 Ollus or allost, always, 
 
 Wammle-cheese, one meal cheese. 
 
 If in these specimens of pronunciation, to which 
 
 * Of the exactness with which the " unlettered rouse " spells by 
 the ear, a curious proof was exhibited during the ever-memorable con- 
 tested election for Norfolk in the year 1817. It was thus the name 
 of the popular and successful candidate was inscribed on barn-doors, 
 throughout the county, and on all the dead walls in the city. " Mag- 
 num et venerabile nomen ! " though it was thus incidentally made 
 ridiculous, at the very time when it was receiving additional lustre.
 
 INTItODUCflOtf. 105 
 
 more might be added, we be thought too slovenly, 
 there are others in which we are very elaborately dis- 
 tinct. The termination ive, of adjectives, for instance, 
 which, in the English language commonly glides 
 faintly off the tongue, is drawn out to its full length. 
 
 Ex. Expensive positive abusive native. 
 Here we are quite ready with our defence. These 
 words are French ; or rather Latin originally, coming 
 to us through French, and therefore accented on the 
 last syllable. So we found, and so we use them. 
 
 Nor are words of this form the only ones which we 
 thus use (contrary to the general rule) neat as im- 
 ported. Enemy' and envy' are instances. And we 
 follow the analogy of the latter word in its adjective 
 envious. 
 
 Adjectives in able, which have commonly the accent 
 on the antepenultimate of polysyllables, or even farther 
 back, are accented by us on the penultimate, especially 
 when it is intended to give them emphatic force. 
 
 Ex. Lamentable abominable, &c. 
 Here we may plead the same defence. 
 
 Adverbs in /y, particularly when the sense of them 
 is meant to be emphatical, have the accent on the 
 last syllable, as continually', certainly', &c. This ter- 
 mination is Saxon, and is in fact, a word, lick, synony- 
 mous with like. So those adverbs in strictness are a 
 sort of compound words, and the last syllable is likely 
 to have been pronounced more distinctly than it com- 
 monly is in its present form. 
 
 Words of exclamation, of whatsoever grammatical 
 rank, are used in the same manner. Mr. Pegge no-
 
 106 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 tices this use of Goodness ! And we have " Lord ha' 
 mercy ! " and others, seemingly ad libitum. 
 
 To that very meagre and insignificant syllable le 
 final, which a Frenchman bites off at once, and an 
 Englishman scarcely deigns to touch with the tip of 
 his tongue, we are apt to give very undue prominence, 
 by pronouncing it ul, as possibul, &c. For this pro- 
 nunciation, coarse and awkward as it may seem, we 
 appeal to Spencer, who writes Iqfful for baffle. In- 
 deed, he is himself under authority; for the le is no 
 other than the Saxon termination ol, of which very 
 many instances may be given. 
 
 So much then for final syllables. But we are not 
 satisfied with slurring them over in the manner, of 
 which a sufficiency of examples has been given. We 
 clutter and huddle together, the syllable of two or 
 more words, into a combination of which no consti- 
 tuent part can bo recognised. Many instances of this 
 sort are afforded by connecting together the negative 
 particle and a verb. Such forms are pretty numerous 
 in all dialects, and in colloquial use. We have only 
 to enumerate our own, or a competent number of 
 them, to which additions might be made. 
 
 Shant, (a. 4.) " Shall not. 
 
 Cant, (a. 4.) Can not. 
 
 Ont, wont Will (wull) not. 
 
 Dint -N 
 
 Dent > Did not. 
 
 Dant J 
 
 Shunt Should (shuld) not. 
 
 Wunt Would (wuld) not.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 107 
 
 Mant, (a. 4.) May not. 
 
 Warnt Were not. 
 
 Eent Is not. 
 
 Aint Am not. 
 
 Heent Has (hes) not. 
 
 Hant Had not. 
 
 Of like sort are several combinations of the pronoun 
 it, represented by an initial or final t. 
 Tut To it. 
 
 Dut Do it. 
 
 Wut With (wuth) it. 
 
 Het Have it. 
 
 Tebbin * It has been. 
 
 Some are combinations of verbs, with other words : 
 Cup Come up. 
 
 Gup Go up. 
 
 Gout Go out. 
 
 Gin Go in. 
 
 Giz Give us. 
 
 Shakspeare uses dup for do ope. Doff and don for 
 do o^and do on, are very well known, and certainly 
 Old English. 
 
 Perhaps the four following are our own : 
 K'ye here, or k'ere. 
 K'ye there. 
 
 K'ye hinder, or k'inder. 
 K'ye thinder. 
 
 * The pronouns possessive hisn, ourn, yourn, theirn, so very com- 
 mon among cocknies, are little used by us ; only, perhaps, by some 
 affected persons who seem to consider them as more than common 
 elegancies. They are certainly condensations of his own, &c.
 
 108 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 respectively signifying, " Look ye here, there, or 
 yonder." 
 
 But all these are tight compact condensations of 
 two, or, at most, three short words. Some are on a 
 larger scale. An example or two had been preserved, 
 but have unluckily escaped. This loss is the less to 
 be lamented, as Major Moor's Collection of Suffolk 
 Words, supplies a very queer one. A girl was em- 
 ployed to keep coM'S, a task commonly allotted to boys. 
 She called herself a galcobaw ; a word which might 
 puzzle the most learned East Anglian philologist. It 
 was found, however, to mean a girl-cow-boy. Whe- 
 ther the strange word be in any degree of currency, 
 or whether it was merely hit off by chance, does not 
 appear. It may serve to exemplify the habit of jum- 
 bling words together, which is, indeed, pretty much 
 ad libitum. The following may be thought a neat 
 cluster of small samples : " M'aunt bod me g'into 
 th'archard, and call m'uncle into house." 
 
 If Ray's interpretation of one of Sir Thos. Browne's 
 words be correct (as it probably is) our ancestors in 
 his time possessed more skill and bestowed more pains 
 on these ingenious fabrications, than we do. The 
 word alluded to is now, indeed, and probably has very 
 long been, totally out of use. But the celebrity of the 
 name (on which alone it rests) must rescue it from 
 oblivion. The same consideration must also save it 
 from being thus swept into a corner among rubbish. 
 It must be inserted and interpreted in its place in the 
 Vocabulary. Therefore, V. Samodothee. 
 
 We seem now to be naturally and easily led to the 
 subject of
 
 INTRODUCTION. 109 
 
 Corruptions, 
 
 A title under which we must be content to class 
 many perversions and distortions of legitimate words, 
 not reducible to the foregoing, or to any rules ; not 
 mere peculiarities of pronunciation, changes of the 
 organic powers of letters, or of the form of syllables ; 
 but, more or less, of the very structure of words. 
 Such aberrations are to be found in abundance in 
 every provincial dialect ; the same in more than one ; 
 in many ; in most ; or even in all ; so as rather to de- 
 serve the name of general vulgarisms. They seem to 
 have been too freely admitted into some recent Glos- 
 saries. In this a few choice specimens only will be 
 inserted for special reasons. From this opprobrious 
 character it would be trifling to attempt'?, general vin- 
 dication of them. Yet, for some may be pleaded, in 
 different degrees of exculpation, their high antiquity, 
 their analogical formation, their occurring in the works 
 of grave authors, -or their possible derivation from such 
 sources as make them not less, perhaps even more ex- 
 pressive, than the words of which they seem to be 
 awkward or fantastical representatives. 
 
 The following catalogue coincides * in a great mea- 
 sure with that given by Mr. Pegge in his Anecdotes 
 of the English Language. He keeps these words se- 
 
 * This coincidence may serve to prove, as far as such words can 
 prove, and as far as they are of competent antiquity, the good sym- 
 pathy and sisterly likeness between the popular language of the East 
 Angles, and that of their near neighbours the East Saxons; for with 
 that ancient nation must Mr.JPegge's favourites and protege's, the 
 cockneys, be numbered, . , 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 110 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 parate as they are kept here, that they may not en- 
 cumber those which he means more particularly to 
 discuss. The whole of his collection is not inserted 
 here, only as much of it as we can claim. Yet this is 
 much ampler than his ; and it might have been consi- 
 derably enlarged, had not the rule been rigidly ob- 
 served, to admit no word which could not be fairly 
 said to be in current use among us. There would 
 be no end of noticing every missed aim at a hard 
 word, which one may have happened once to hear. 
 Besides, it might be thought uncourteous, as well as 
 tedious to call Mrs. Malaprop, or Mrs. Slipslop, to 
 a very strict account for their diction. There is 
 scarcely a trisyllable in the English language (to go 
 no farther) of which a travestie might not be ex- 
 hibited off-hand every day and every where, by those 
 who are fond of using what they reckon fine words, 
 without knowing the form or the meaning of them. 
 
 There is, indeed, another class of anomalous words, 
 of more value than these, connected with, but not to 
 be identified with them. Words so slippery and fuga- 
 cious as to elude any attempt to form a collection of 
 them, but which ought to be noticed somewhere, and, 
 perhaps, no where more opportunely than at this 
 point. It is observable, most likely in all cases, cer- 
 tainly in ours, that in popular and oral language, 
 where there is no recorded and acknowledged standard 
 to which speakers feel themselves obliged to conform, 
 there exists a strong propensity to what is called the 
 coinage of words. Words are struck off on the spur 
 of the occasion, on the principle of the figure onoma- 
 opoeia, but sometimes strongly and happily expressive,
 
 INTRODUCTION. Ill 
 
 such as to remind one of the courteous reply of a po- 
 lite Frenchman to an Englishman who had apologised 
 for his bad French : <- Ce que vous dites, Monsieur, 
 n'est pas Francois, mais il merite bien 1'etre ;" words 
 suggested to the speaker by anger, grief, disappoint- 
 ment, surprise, or some other vehement and sudden 
 emotion ; random and extemporaneous words, never 
 thought of before, never likely to be used again *. 
 These airat, eipjjjueva can have no pretension to appear 
 among words of " good admission." If a single one 
 has found its way into these pages, it is an estray, 
 which was allowed to creep in through inadvertence., 
 and not detected on revision. 
 
 To almost every one of Mr. Pegge's words is an- 
 nexed a short note, explanatory, illustrative, or in 
 some sort exculpatory, and all expressed with his cha- 
 racteristic peasantry. With not one of these annota- 
 tions has the Author ventured to make free. Nothing 
 is more dangerous to borrow than a jest ; and no mode 
 of borrowing more clearly betrays poverty, or rather 
 beggary. Any East Angle who wishes to claim a 
 share in these apologies, as far as they concern him, 
 will do well to have recourse to the book, and may de- 
 pend on finding much amusement and information. 
 And, in return, if in any case it should happen, that 
 
 * In other words, on the principle of making the " sound seem 
 an echo to the sense," or rather a comment on the sense. This ex- 
 planation may, perchance, enable some reader, well acquainted with 
 his mother-tongue, but not familiar with the names or powers of the 
 figures of rhetoric, to bear witness to the correctness of this obser - 
 vation.
 
 112 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 more light is thrown here on any word than Mr. Pegge 
 has afforded, the Cockney is heartily welcome to the 
 benefit of it. It is intended to give Ii3re, as nearly as 
 possible, a simple nomenclature, and to leave the 
 words in general to shift for themselves, as best they 
 may. Entirely to avoid encumbering the List with 
 notes, should some lucky formation, some quaint ana- 
 logy, perhaps some weighty authority, seem to entitle 
 any word to particular notice, it will be marked with 
 an asterisk here, and repeated in the Vocabulary, as 
 the properer place to say whatever can be said on its 
 behalf. Some little improvement has been attempted 
 in arrangement, by throwing the words under different 
 heads, in order to give a clearer view of them. Whe- 
 ther this may have been worth the trouble, let the 
 reader judge. It will of course be understood, that, 
 in our use of them, they are subject to the rules of 
 pronunciation, if they can be so called, which have- 
 been above laid down. 
 
 1. To some words is added the letter d or t, by the 
 figure called paragoge: 
 
 Attact for Attack. 
 
 Close-t Close. 
 
 Drownd Drown. 
 
 Epitapht Epitaph. 
 
 Gallont Gallon. 
 
 Gownd Gown. 
 
 *Margent Margin. 
 
 Nice-t Nice. 
 
 Paragraph! Paragraph. 
 
 *Regiment Regimen. 
 
 Scholard Scholar. 
 
 Sermont Sermon,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 113. 
 
 *Simont for Simon. 
 
 Sould Soul 
 
 Surgeont Surgeon. 
 
 Talont Talon. 
 
 Verment Vermin. 
 
 Wind Wine. 
 
 2. To some a whole syllable is added: 
 
 Masoner for Mason. 
 
 Musicianer Musician. 
 
 Physicianer Physician. 
 
 Teamer Team. 
 
 3. Some assume an initial s: 
 
 Snoose for Noose. 
 
 Snotch Notch. 
 
 Squench Quench. 
 
 Squink Wink. 
 
 Squit Quit. 
 
 4. In some the first syllable is changed: 
 
 Bagonet for Bayonet, 
 
 Compacity Capacity. 
 
 Court of Arms Coat of Arms. 
 
 Discommode Incommode. 
 
 Disgest Digest. 
 
 Dismolish Demolish. 
 
 Eminent. Imminent. 
 
 Mislest Molest. 
 
 Perdigious Prodigious. 
 
 Preverse Perverse. 
 
 Star-naked Stark-naked. 
 
 Vocation Vacation. 
 . In some the last syllable : 
 
 Agash for Aghast. 
 
 L3
 
 114 
 
 VOCABULARY 
 
 OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Ballat 
 
 for Ballad. 
 
 Becase 
 
 Because. 
 
 Bedisle 
 
 Bedizen. 
 
 Chaply 
 
 Chapel. 
 
 Chimbly 
 Chimly J 
 
 Chimney. 
 
 Clash 
 
 Class. 
 
 Conquest. 
 
 Concourse. 
 
 Delightsome 
 
 Delightful. 
 
 *Disburst 
 
 Disburse. 
 
 Drugster 
 
 Druggist. 
 
 Effidge 
 
 Effigy. 
 
 Fancical 
 
 Fanciful. 
 
 Flustrate 
 
 Fluster. 
 
 Furnitude 
 
 Furniture. 
 
 Jaunders 
 
 Jaundice. 
 
 Luxurious 
 
 Luxuriant. 
 
 Moral 
 
 Model. 
 
 Notage 
 
 Notice. 
 
 Otherguess 
 
 Otherguise. 
 
 Portmantle 
 
 Portmanteau. 
 
 Quite 
 
 Quiet. 
 
 Refuge 
 
 Refuse. 
 
 Rheumatics, s. pi. 
 
 Rheumatism. 
 
 Rheumaty pains 
 
 Rheumatic pains. 
 
 Rinch 
 
 Rinse. 
 
 Roment 
 
 Romance. 
 
 *Rubbage 
 
 Rubbish. 
 
 *Skirmage 
 
 Skirmish. 
 
 Successfully 
 
 Successively. 
 
 Timorsome - 
 Timborsome J 
 
 Timorous.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 115 
 
 for Topsy-turvy. 
 
 Topsy-tivy 
 Undenting 
 Undermine! 
 
 6. Some are deformed by insertion of superfluous 
 letters : 
 
 for Bachelor. 
 
 Bin. 
 
 Cavalry. 
 
 Commonalty. 
 
 Confiscate. 
 
 Desolate. 
 
 Dilatory. 
 
 Disposal. 
 
 Dubious. 
 
 Enormous. 
 
 Flagitious 
 
 Fairy. 
 
 Furlough. 
 
 Industrious. 
 
 Manner. 
 
 Partner. 
 
 Proprietor. 
 
 Ruin. 
 
 Solitary. 
 
 Speckled. 
 
 Stupendous. 
 
 Stupify. 
 
 Bacheldor 
 Bing 
 Cavaltry 
 Commonality 
 Confisticate 
 Destolate 
 Dilantory 
 Disposial 
 Duberous 
 Enormerous 
 Flagititious 
 Frairy 
 Furbelow 
 Industerous 
 Mander 
 Partender 
 Properietor 
 Ruinate 
 Solentary 
 *Spreckled 
 Stupenduous 
 Stuprify 
 Sudges 
 Tremenduous 
 
 Suds. 
 
 Tremendous. 
 Some by omittting necessary letters : 
 Bacca for Tobacco. 
 
 Chai Chaise.
 
 116 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 *Christan for Christian. 
 
 Curosity Curiosity. 
 
 Curous Curious. 
 
 Debiliate Debilitate. 
 
 Fictious Fictitious. 
 
 Ingenous Ingenious. 
 
 Necessiate Necessitate. 
 
 Ruffin Ruffian. 
 
 Tedous Tedious. 
 
 Vement Vehement. 
 
 Versal Universal. 
 
 Volumous Voluminous. 
 
 8. It is easy enough to conceive that Latin words, 
 retained in their own form, as in terms of Law, &c. 
 are very open to corruption : 
 
 Arcy-farsy for Vice-versa. 
 
 Cavy Peccavi. 
 
 Cessarary Certiorari. 
 
 Crissy Crisis. 
 
 Davy Affidavit. 
 
 Diddimous Dedimus. 
 
 Hizy-prizy Nisi prius. 
 
 Hoxy-croxy Oxycroceum. 
 
 Hoizon Horizon. 
 
 Nolus-bolus Nolens volens. 
 Non-plush i 
 
 *Non-plunge / Non P lus * 
 
 Primmery -i 
 
 T, . . > rremumre. 
 
 Pnmmmery J 
 
 9. There remains no inconsiderable number in 
 which the distortion or dislocation is too great or too
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 117 
 
 general to allow them to 
 
 be otherwise arranged than 
 
 in alphabetical order : 
 
 
 Acquese 
 
 for Acquiesce. 
 
 *Artiflexy 
 
 Apoplexy. 
 
 Bewiddle 
 
 Bewilder. 
 
 Blather 
 
 Bladder. 
 
 Brefkas 
 
 Breakfast. 
 
 Cartrach 
 
 Cateract. 
 
 Coalese (diss.) 
 
 Coalesce. 
 
 Crowner - 
 Cronnier / 
 
 Coroner. 
 
 Cutriments, 
 
 Accoutrements. 
 
 Farisee 
 
 Fairy. 
 
 Farrage 
 
 Fairing. 
 
 Fidgy 
 
 Effigy. 
 
 Fisherate 
 
 Officiate. 
 
 Gash-full -) 
 Gashly / 
 
 Ghastly. 
 
 Hobble 
 
 Hovel. 
 
 Howsomedever 
 
 Howsoever. 
 
 *Hume 
 
 Hymn. 
 
 Inquiration 
 
 Inquiry. 
 
 Intossicate ~i 
 
 
 Intosticate J 
 
 Intoxicate. 
 
 *Intrust 
 
 Interest. 
 
 Jocotious 
 
 Jocose. 
 
 Juggler's vein 
 
 The jugular vein. 
 
 Liceness 
 
 License. 
 
 *Miscomfortune 
 
 Misfortune. 
 
 *Miscomhap 
 
 Mishap. 
 
 *Narrow-wriggle 
 
 Earwig. 
 
 Nechthorn 
 
 Nectarine.
 
 118 
 
 VOCABULARY 
 
 OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Newelty ^ 
 Neweltry J 
 
 for Novelty 
 
 Nottomy 
 
 Anatomy. 
 
 *Numpost 
 
 Imposthume. 
 
 Obligate 
 
 Oblige. 
 
 Odious 
 
 Odorous. 
 
 Obstropulous 
 
 Obstreperous. 
 
 Oudacious 
 
 Audacious. 
 
 Palaratoch 
 
 Paralytic. 
 
 Permiscous 
 
 Promiscuous. 
 
 *Plumpendicular 
 
 Perpendicular. 
 
 Porpus 
 
 Pauper. 
 
 Portingal 
 
 Portugal. 
 
 Pumgenet 
 
 Pomegranate. 
 
 Quivy 
 
 Equivocate. 
 
 Rale 
 
 Real. 
 
 Semblitude 
 
 Similitude. 
 
 Sinnable 
 
 Syllable. 
 
 Singafy-fize ,. 
 
 
 Sinnify-fize s. 
 
 Signify. 
 
 Singnafy-fize J 
 
 
 Scrummage 
 
 Skirmish. 
 
 Speciously 
 
 Especially. 
 
 *Spettacle 
 
 Spectacle. 
 
 Surficate - 
 Snufficate J 
 
 Suffocate. 
 
 Tater ~\ 
 
 Potato. 
 
 Tate J 
 
 
 Timinate 
 
 Intimidate. 
 
 Trinkle -> 
 Trittle / 
 
 Trickle. 
 
 Turpentine walk 
 
 Serpentine walk.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 119 
 
 Vamment 
 
 for Vomit. 
 
 * Viper's dance 
 Unbombinable 
 
 Saint Vitus's dance. 
 Abominable. 
 
 *Upperhand 
 *Upperlet 
 Wagabone 
 *Whosomedever 
 
 Apprehend. 
 Epaulet. 
 Vagabond. 
 Whosoever. 
 
 Whatsomedever 
 
 Whatsoever. 
 
 Whensomedever 
 
 Whensoever. 
 
 If any words have been improperly inserted or 
 omitted in this catalogue, placed under wrong heads, 
 repeated in the Vocabulary, or inserted there with less 
 propriety than here ; and if any apology be necessary, 
 for errors or oversights so very likely to happen, it is 
 now offered.
 
 120 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 ESSAY III. 
 
 On some peculiarities of East Anglian Grammar. 
 
 The Anglo-Saxon Grammars, of which we now ac- 
 knowledge the authority, are entirely retrospective. 
 They were not compiled till the language had gone 
 through all its stages; nor, indeed, till it had been 
 many centuries extinct. The English language, in its 
 turn, passed through the greatest part of its progress, 
 without a Grammar. None of any general practical 
 utility has been in existence much above half a cen- 
 tury. Dr. Johnson, in discussing the question of 
 Shakspeare's learning, says, he " had only Latin 
 enough to grammaticise his English." In fact, in the 
 Poet's time, it was the only possible way of gramma- 
 ticising it. His great contemporary and rival, Ben 
 Jonson, indeed, wrote a grammar, but he could not 
 avail himself of it; and it is not easy to conceive who 
 could. The numerous schools founded in the latter 
 half of the sixteenth, and the earlier part of the seven- 
 teenth centuries, in which the elements of Latin and 
 Greek were to be taught, were called Grammar Schools, 
 and still retain that name. To learn those elements, 
 was to learn Grammar, and it could no otherwise be 
 learned. 
 
 Our great etymological grammarian Dr. Wallis,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 121 
 
 when he enters on his discussion of the Parts of 
 Speech, excuses himself from giving a formal detail of 
 them, in confidence that none of his readers can need 
 such an elementary statement, by their ignorance of 
 Latin grammar, in which language he wrote. The 
 same excuse may be made here for a similar reason. 
 Every reader must be presumed to be competently ac- 
 quainted with English grammar. Our Provincial for- 
 mations and constructions agree with it in the main. 
 We have not wherewithal to construct a particular 
 East Anglian Grammar, or even an Accidence. No- 
 thing more is intended than to give some account of 
 certain deviations from general and established usage. 
 Fastidious critics, who can endure their mother tongue 
 in that form only which they consider as the most im- 
 proved and refined, may choose to look upon these as 
 mere grammatical anomalies. Be it so, if so it seem 
 good to them. We will not cavil about a term. Thus 
 much, however, may undeniably be said on behalf of 
 such local usages. Their regular and unvaried recur- 
 rence strongly implies the existence of some rule, 
 which, though it be no where written, is uniformly 
 obeyed ; and, like some other causes of infinitely more 
 moment, operates unseen, to produce constant and vi- 
 sible effects ; while those who contribute habitually to 
 the production of those effects, are perfectly unconsci- 
 ous of the cause. In the course of our inquiry, some 
 of them may, peradventure, be found in the darkness 
 of remote antiquity, and may add, not inconsiderably, 
 to the proof afforded by the derivations of our words. 
 They are said to be characteristic of our dialect. It is 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 122 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGL1A. 
 
 not meant that they are exclusively so. Some of them 
 may also characterise other dialects. So much the 
 better. Our proofs of antiquity will be strengthened 
 by that of common origin. To give them the only sort 
 of order to which they can be reduced, they will be 
 placed under the heads of the several parts of speech 
 in which they are observable. 
 
 The Definite Article. 
 
 This little word was of no inconsiderable importance 
 in our parent language. Besides its necessary pre- 
 sence to point out any particular object or objects 
 among many, it was even sometimes prefixed to pro- 
 per names and abstract nouns, as in Greek, 6 AXefrtv- 
 pos and ft ApeZrj. It is not our present concern to 
 ascertain by what rules, and under what circumstances, 
 it was so used in either of those languages. Our con- 
 cern is with the omission, not the seeming redundance 
 of it. Hickes says, that in his Dano-Saxon dialect, 
 the article " ut plurimum omittitur." Now, as it is 
 not easy to conceive limits to our oral tradition when 
 it is once in motion, there can be no violent improba- 
 bility in supposing that the omissions of this sort, pre- 
 sently to be produced, have been transmitted to us 
 from the Lord-Danes, who so long domineered in East 
 Anglia. Such traditional modes of speech may well 
 be conceived to grow fainter, to waver and vary, yet 
 still to manifest sufficient traces of their continued ex- 
 istence, though not in full force, even among very re- 
 mote posterity. 
 
 The omission of the article in some instances, in
 
 INTRODUCTION. 123 
 
 which it might be used, is very general. Every body 
 talks of going to town, or to church. The sportsman 
 pursues his game to covert, or to earth, and finds it 
 above ground or under water; but these several sub- 
 stantives are used in a general and indefinite sense. 
 The omission of the article to be observed here, is 
 when it properly bears its character of definite ; when 
 it should precede substantives in a particular and indi- 
 vidual signification ; and that only in the case of nouns 
 of a certain description, and under certain circum- 
 stances. The nouns are names of familiar, and for the 
 most part domestic objects ; as, house, barn, stable ; 
 parlour, kitchen, chamber ; chair, table, basket ; yard, 
 garden, field ; pond, ditch, river. And farther, the 
 omission is observable only after prepositions signify- 
 ing motion to or from them. Ex. Walk into house ; 
 go up chamber ; put the apples into basket ; turn the 
 dog into yard ; come out of barn, &c. It is never said 
 that the horse is in stable, that a crow flew over barn, 
 that there are flowers in garden, fish in pond, &c. 
 
 It may be farther observed, that when the preposi- 
 tion ends, and its noun begins, with a vowel, some con- 
 trivance seems necessary to save our sensitive ears 
 from the pain of a hiatus. To effect this the article is 
 used with an elision of its vowel. Ex. Send him into 
 th' orchard. He is going on to th' ice. Put the bread 
 into th' oven. Though some times the article is omit- 
 ted even in these embarrassing cases, but not without 
 a similar guard against the hiatus ; as, on t' ice, int* 
 oven. If it be not positively proved, it does not seem 
 safe to deny, that this idiomatical peculiarity is a rem-
 
 124 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 nant, vague and obscure as it may be thought, yet still 
 in existence, of an " ut pluriraum " characteristic of 
 the Dano-Saxon dialect. 
 
 Nouns. 
 
 i In a very considerable variety of instances we use 
 the same form to express both the numbers. This is, 
 indeed, by no means a peculiarity of ours, or of any 
 other Provincial dialect. There certainly are some 
 substantives in the English language distinguished by 
 this formation, or rather non-formation of their plurals. 
 But, as it is a subject which does not seem to have 
 been sufficiently considered by any of our gramma- 
 rians, and is rather a curious one, we may perhaps be 
 allowed to endeavour to throw some light upon it here, 
 without incurring blame for going too far beyond our 
 tether. 
 
 Of this identity of the two numbers Dr. Lowth gives 
 only two instances, sheep and deer. He might have 
 given more from the animal kingdom ; as plover and 
 grouse among birds ; salmon and mackarel among fish. 
 Indeed, the word fish itself is an instance, and several 
 other species of it might be mentioned. He might also 
 have added horse in the military use of it. We could 
 furnish him with another beast, meaning animals of 
 the beeve kind in a fattening state, or designed for it. 
 Swine too, is pretty generally so used, but very impro- 
 perly no doubt, as it is essentially a plural word, of 
 which sow is the singular. But whatsoever additional 
 instances might be produced, they could not constitute 
 a rule. The names of animals, wild or tame, terres,-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 125 
 
 trial, aerial, aquatic, or amphibious, neither are, nor 
 ever were, in any stage of our language, nor in the 
 Anglo-Saxon, generally used in the plural number 
 without variation. Dr. Johnson has not even men- 
 tioned this class of plurals. 
 
 Lowth, in treating afterwards on the construction of 
 sentences, lays it down as a rule of English Grammar, 
 that "nouns of measure, number, and weight, (dura- 
 tion might have been added,) are sometimes found in 
 a singular form, with numeral adjectives denoting 
 plurality, as fifty foot, six score," &c. Surely it 
 is strange that the grammarian should give his ex- 
 press sanction to a violation of that essential principle 
 of grammar, concord. As this is said only to happen 
 sometimes, and as the instances which will soon be 
 produced prove that it happens irregularly or licen- 
 tiously, it seems safer to refer such instances to the 
 class of unchanged plurals. And, though it should 
 be undeniable that plural forms exist of the very same 
 words in which this identity is sometimes observed, by 
 going a little farther into the subject, it may be shewn 
 that the difficulty is less of taking the singular form 
 for the plural, pro hdc vice, than of conceiving the bar- 
 barous incongruity of singular substantives with plural 
 adjectives. 
 
 In the primitive simplicity of language, it is easy to 
 suppose that, when a name had been given to any 
 thing, and it became necessary to speak of more than 
 one such thing, the idea of plurality was conveyed by 
 connecting with the name some particle, or other 
 word of numerical signification ; and that, in process 
 of time and improvement, inflected plurals were intro- 
 M 3
 
 126 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 duced by the permanent connection of them. No 
 actual proof of this, with examples, can reasonably be 
 demanded. In its nature it can rest on grounds of 
 probability only. No specimens are producible of 
 what any language was in its very infancy. That this 
 observation is applicable to the Anglo Saxon language 
 is in the very highest degree probable. It is actually 
 certain that all nouns in it were not so changed. Some 
 continued, even in its highest state of improvement, to 
 express under the same form both singularity and plu- 
 rality, and must therefore have been explained by 
 some other word or words standing in occasional con- 
 struction with them. The learned Dr. Hickes makes 
 six declensions of Anglo-Saxon substantives. They 
 have been since reduced to three, which seem quite 
 sufficiently comprehensive. His fourth is one of those 
 which have been abolished, and thrown in among the 
 others. It contained the nouns which were the same 
 in both numbers ; and he says the neuter nouns in 
 general belonged to it. In his Islandic Grammar, he 
 says that all neuter nouns in that language were the 
 same in both numbers. Here, then, in two of the 
 main branches of the great Gothic stock from which 
 our language springs, we find a general authority for our 
 economy, in sometimes making one word serve a dou- 
 ble purpose. We must rest content that it is general. 
 It would be waste of time and pains to endeavour to 
 ascertain whether all the words which we use in this 
 manner were derived from one or the other of those 
 ancient tongues ; and whether they were of the fourth 
 declension in the Saxon, or of the neuter gender in 
 the Islandic. But, if it convey no very valuable in-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 127 
 
 formation, it may at least afford some amusement, and 
 perhaps illustration, if we consider somewhat particu- 
 larly our variable and undefinable copies of our ancient 
 models. We will take the several classes of those 
 nouns as Lowth has arranged them, nouns of measure, 
 number, and weight, taking the liberty to add nouns 
 of duration, which he has not mentioned. 
 
 In nouns of measure of length, we have mile in the 
 plural, and not furlong or yard; foot and span, but 
 not inch or line. Neither do we so use the superior 
 denominations, league or degree. Perhaps, indeed, it 
 may be safe to assert, in general, that the usage pre- 
 vails in those words only which have come to us from 
 or through the Gothic. 
 
 In measures of capacity, dry or fluid, we have chal- 
 dron, last, coom, strike, as plurals; but not bushel 
 or peck. Tun, but not hogshead, barrel, gallon, or 
 quart. 
 
 In square or superficial measure, it is usual with us 
 to speak of two rood or twenty perch ; but not of ten 
 acre. 
 
 In solid measure, we fell so many load of timber, 
 and dig so many floor of earth. 
 
 Of nouns of number, million, thousand, hundred, 
 score, dozen, couple, pair, brace, leash, serve both 
 purposes, and seem to constitute the only description 
 of nouns which have been thus used without variation 
 or exception, in old and in modern English, general 
 as well as provincial, and in Anglo-Saxon, so far as it 
 has been traced. And for the practice in this class of 
 nouns, a reason, at least very plausible, may be as- 
 signed. The idea of plurality is so necessarily in-
 
 128 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 volved in every one of them, that it might not be 
 thought requisite to invest them with a plural form. 
 It is not, however, to be understood that these words 
 have absolutely never distinct plurals. The identity 
 of the two numbers goes through them all, indeed, but 
 only when they are preceded by a numeral adjective 
 strictly so called, a cardinal number ; not by a sort of 
 quasi numeral, as many, several, few. Everybody 
 says three million, five thousand, &c. but many hun- 
 dreds, several scores, &c. Indeed, in the former case, 
 the noun of number coalesces, as it were, with the an- 
 nexed cardinal, and they become jointly one adjec- 
 tive ; in the second, it has its proper character of a 
 substantive, attended by its adjective. It is like mille 
 and millia in Latin. The numeral is also properly a 
 substantive after a preposition, and assumes the plural 
 termination ; as, "lay them in dozens," " count them 
 by scores," &c. This suggests the mention of a prac- 
 tice among us, totally the reverse of this parsimony of 
 plurality in nouns of number. We sometimes make 
 them even a double allowance of it. If we are count- 
 ing a considerable number of things, by two, three, 
 &c. we say we count by tivoses, threeses, &c. The 
 number of such combinations being large, we express 
 that idea absurdly, and, to confess the truth, barbar- 
 ously. But I am not aware of any other instance of 
 this profuse plurality. We certainly never run against 
 postesses, as the cocknies do. 
 
 Of nouns of weight, the pound, and all denomina- 
 tions above it, pass unchanged into the plural. Pound, 
 stone, quarter, todd, wey, hundred weight, and ton, 
 are equally expressive of one and of many. But not 
 so are ounce, dram, &c.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 129 
 
 On the intermediate word, pound) it may be worth 
 while to be somewhat more particular. It is used as a 
 denomination of money, as well as of actual weight. 
 Originally, the two senses were coincident. A pound 
 weight of gold and a money-pound were synonymous. 
 In Saxon times, the pound of gold was divided into 
 sixty shillings, which progressively decreased both in 
 number and value. The shilling was divided into 
 pence, always the same in number, but of course de- 
 creasing in value. Neither of these inferior denomina- 
 tions ever followed the example of their principal in 
 the plural number. They have at all times been shil- 
 lings and pence. Or, if there be any exception, it 
 must be some obscure provincial usage, not yet brought 
 to light. Another inferior denomination was the mark, 
 two-thirds of the pound. This did follow the analogy 
 of its superior, while money accounts were kept in 
 marks, as they now are in pounds. Shakspeare speaks 
 of a " ring worth forty mark." Just so do we say 
 "twenty pound." Pope has repeatedly written "ten 
 pound;" and, to guard against all mistake, has 
 rhymed it. For this word, thus used, we claim not 
 only Anglo-Saxon and continued English, but even 
 Latin authority. Twenty pound is exactly viginti 
 pondo. In Anglo-Saxon, from which we must have 
 had it immediately, it is pund. Whether it came to 
 the Saxons from the Romans during their inroads, or 
 to the Romans from the Goths, in a much earlier age, 
 or to both from some other source, is neither ascer- 
 tainable nor worth ascertaining. 
 
 Of nouns of duration, we have positive Anglo-Saxon 
 proof of year in the plural number. In the Saxon
 
 130 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Chronicle we read "twentig geare," which is precisely 
 our twenty year. And we use here the compound 
 words a seven-year (septennium), and a hundred-year 
 (centuria), both unchanged in the plural number. 
 But we never talk of six month, three week, four 
 day, or five hour. 
 
 Upon the whole, then, on our own behalf or that of 
 others (to which assistance they are heartily wel- 
 come), we seem to have obtained satisfactory general 
 proof of Saxonism in this point. The great irregula- 
 rity and variableness of the usage, and the impossibi- 
 lity of confining it by anything like a strict rule, we 
 must reverently submit to the unquestionable autho- 
 rity of that "arbitrium loquendi," which gradually 
 erects itself into "jus et norma." Whether, in the 
 present state of our language, any one, who aims at 
 perfect correctness of expression, be justifiable in 
 using any of these archaisms, is a question of criticism 
 in which we have no concern. 
 
 We retain the Anglo-Saxon plural termination in 
 n or en, in such words as housen, closen, cheesen. But 
 this ancient formation is not so current and familiar in 
 our dialect as it is in some others, and in old English. 
 
 The final syllable er of many words, signifying the 
 offices or occupations of men, and nearly resembling 
 the or masculine in Latin, and the rjp and wp in Greek, 
 is in the Anglo-Saxon not merely a syllable, but, in 
 fact, an entire word. It is tver, a man ; the very same 
 as the Latin vir. So that a baker is a bakeman, a 
 painter a paint-man, &c. So firmly established is this an- 
 cient traditional termination, that words derived from 
 other tongues, and already complete in their forma-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 131 
 
 tion, are wont to be lengthened out with this Saxon 
 adjunct, as if it were essential to the conveyance of 
 the full sense of the word ; as a masoner, a musicianer, 
 &c. The synonymous word man, which is also Saxon, 
 is sometimes employed in the same service, and even 
 in addition to the er. But the word thus fabricated is 
 by no means intended as a respectful appellation. I 
 have often heard of a soldier-man, a lawyer-man, a 
 doctor man, and even (salva sit reverential) a parson- 
 man. 
 
 The same terminal syllable, er, sometimes makes 
 words equivalent to those which are formed in Latin 
 in anus or ensis, signifying the inhabitants of places. 
 The word Londoner is nearly, if not absolutely, the 
 only one which has obtained general currency. The 
 names of very few places admit the termination so 
 easily and fluently. We have no scruples of that sort. 
 Not only are the inhabitants of Norwich called Nnr- 
 tvichers, and those of the neighbouring villages Cat- 
 toners, Eatoners, Earlhamers, &c. none of which words 
 is very offensively harsh, but we form similar words at 
 all risks, ad libitum. For instance, an old farmer in 
 West-Norfolk went to Thetford, and took lodgings 
 there to drink the mineral water, with the same hope 
 with which "Dean Spavin, Dean Mangy, and Dr. de 
 Squirt," were sent some years ago from Cambridge to 
 Bath. Returning to see how his household and his 
 cattle fared, he told a neighbour that he must go back 
 again in three days, for he was become quite a Thet- 
 forder. The formation is still Anglo-Saxon, however 
 offensively to the ear it may sometimes be exemplified 
 by modern East Angles.
 
 132 VOCABULARV OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Adjectives. 
 
 Dr. Wallis has given a small list in en, which he 
 calls material, such as golden, wooden, earthen, &c. 
 The whole number amounts to but ten ; and h adds, 
 "raro alia." He might have added some which assume 
 only the letter n, if the substantive ends in a vowel 
 or diphthong, as stratvn is used by Bishop Hall ; or if 
 it ends in r } * as leathern. Some might have been no- 
 ticed with the same termination which cannot be 
 called material, as northern, &c. The alia, not enu- 
 merated by the learned grammarian, probably lie 
 scattered in provincial dialects. We can contribute 
 specimens. We make use of hornen spoons, tinnen 
 pots, and glassen bottles. We make wine of eldern 
 berries; and have not quite left off the ancient cus- 
 tom of regaling on tansy pudding on Eastern Sunday. 
 
 Adjectives are often used for the adverbs formed 
 from them ; as " to behave rude," " to speak plain." 
 This is readily recognised, however it came to us, as a 
 Greek idiom. Lowth says it is "not according to 
 the genius of the English language." Why not ? 
 
 The syllable ful is added to some adjectives for the 
 purpose of increasing or strengthening their meaning. 
 Ex. "It is a longjul while since I have seen you" a 
 very long while is meant, longer than if it had been 
 simply called " a long while." It is, in fact, the old 
 English phrase " full long." But by turning this 
 phrase " end for end," as we say, and by making one 
 compound word, we seem to ourselves to express the 
 idea with more neatness and force. 
 
 Chaucer, however, has silveren.
 
 INTRODUCTION^ 133 
 
 Of the duplications, and reduplications, and accu- 
 mulations of comparatives and superlatives, we have' 
 our full-share. We come behind none in this 'expres- 
 sive phraseology. There seems to have been in. all 
 language, more or less, a propensity to hyperbolize in 
 this matter beyond the strict limits of idiomatical pro- 
 priety. In our own it is certainly very conspicuous. 
 Our principal grammarians seem to have paid little 
 attention to the subject. As it was their office to lay 
 down rules and laws, they may have thought it none 
 of their concern to enumerate violations of them. 
 They may have been passed over as vulgarisms and 
 provincialisms. Then they come properly within this 
 our humbler sphere. Ben Jonson, indeed, offers grave 
 reasons for some of these. Of what may be called the 
 super-superlative, for instance, he says that it is an 
 English Atticism; and very happily illustrates his po- 
 sition, by adding that it is after the mot>t nntiente&t of 
 the Greek writers; who, as the learned Ben might 
 have recollected, were not Attics. Dr. Johnson ob- 
 serves, that, " in a language subjected so little and so 
 late'ly to grammar," such anomalies, even in good 
 writers, "must frequently occur." The instances, 
 which he proceeds to give from some old authors, are 
 only of adjectives regularly compared by er and est, 
 instead of the signs more and most, which are now 
 thought more correct in those cases. This is by no 
 means viewing the whole of the subject. Dr. Lowth 
 mentions "double comparatives and superlatives" in a 
 note, and passes a general censure on them, with a 
 single exception, but says nothing explanatory. Mr. 
 Pegge, in his Anecdotes of the English Language, is
 
 134< VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 led by the nature of his subject to do what is much 
 more to the purpose. He gives many instances of 
 these irregularities, with very amusing apologies for 
 the cocknies who use them, in quotations from many 
 eminent writers in prose and verse, and of different 
 ages. Not that he means to vindicate these erroneous 
 practices, but to account for them, and to refer them 
 to their Anglo-Saxon model, not individually, but col- 
 lectively and analogically. Yet still, much ai has 
 been said by that entertaining and instructive writer, 
 it seems as if something farther might be said on the 
 subject, as far at least as double, or more than double, 
 comparatives are concerned ; not, indeed, with a view 
 to the vindication of any one of them, but of suggest- 
 ing some not improbable reason for their origin and 
 formation. 
 
 The positive degree is fixed and unchanged. We 
 must take it as we find it. Indeed some grammarians 
 have doubted whether it ought properly to be called 
 a degree at all. This, however, is only uselessly dis- 
 puting about a term. We proceed to the compara- 
 tive. There we find more, and perhaps progressively 
 more and more, of the quality signified by the posi- 
 tive. There are successive shades of meaning. To 
 express these, the word degree would be very objec- 
 tionable, as it must produce confusion. Suppose, 
 then, they be called sub- degrees. For example, here 
 is something, no matter what, positively bad. On 
 looking farther, we find other things of the same kind, 
 comparatively and progressively worse, much worse, very 
 much worse. Why not apply the Saxon comparative 
 termination er, and say they are worse, worser, worserer?
 
 INTRODUCTION. 135 
 
 It is only suggested that these words might thus have 
 arisen. It is not likely they would always be used 
 with exact discriminating precision. But this might 
 be the origin of them, and that is all we want to 
 come at. Supposing them used with due regard to the 
 import of each, we should be able to give in one word, 
 what must otherwise cost two ; what has, indeed, been 
 actually expressed in two by many of our best writers. 
 Shakspeare says " more better," " more happier," 
 " more sharper." We might thus get at least an in- 
 telligible interpretation of our phrase, " worser and 
 worserer." Sometimes, from inattention to propriety 
 of expression, " worserer and worserer," it would ex- 
 press such a deterioration of what is already bad, as 
 almost to have reached the very extreme point; to have 
 become only not so bad, as that which is absolutely the 
 very worst of all. 
 
 From this same progress of comparative meaning, 
 we might get a more plausible account of such words 
 as better-most, upper-most) inner-most, &c. All the first 
 parts of these words are of comparative import, whe- 
 ther they be strictly comparative degrees from positive 
 adjectives or not. What have been called the sub- 
 degrees might stand thus : 
 
 Better, betterer, more better ; 
 
 better-most, most better. 
 
 The meaning would be so much improved, as to have 
 closely approached, or even actually attained, the ex- 
 treme point of the good quality. 
 
 That point once reached, there can be no farther 
 progress. In the superlative degree, the sub-degrees, 
 which have been mentioned, can have no existence. If
 
 136 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 any one be dissatisfied with its full force, as not 
 amounting to what he wishes to express, no farther in- 
 tention can be effected, than by doubling the superla- 
 tive upon itself, as it cannot go backward into the com- 
 parative. It cannot be denied that the effect of this 
 doubling may sometimes be very striking; in some 
 very few instances, even sublime. But it will warrant 
 no such low expressions as, " the most wickedest ac- 
 tion," the " most worthlessest character," the " most 
 rascalliest trick," &c. Though truly, should one inad- 
 vertently blunder into the use of these, or any such 
 like expressions, he might endeavour to draw some 
 consolation from knowing that the great Sir Thomas 
 More has gone as low as " most basest." 
 
 If we have a peculiar claim to any of these seemingly 
 disorderly words, it may be to lessest and ivorsest ; so 
 far at least as may be inferred from their not occurring 
 in the glossaries of other provincial dialects. Dr. Wal- 
 lis, indeed, contends that lessest is the proper Anglo- 
 Saxon superlative ; that least is a syncopated form of 
 it, and ought therefore to be written lest . Pennant 
 has actually adopted this emendation. We use also 
 littlest ; which is but an instance of that affectation of 
 regularity, of which several are given in verbs. Worsest 
 is very properly inserted by Major Moor among his 
 Suffolk words. This may be accounted for in like 
 manner as lessest. We retain the ancient form, which 
 by syncope has become tvorst. Our countryman Tus- 
 ser has ixorsest. 
 
 It may deserve to be remarked, that we have a 
 strong manner of expressing the superlative degree, 
 by the simple expedient of comparing the positive with
 
 INTRODUCTION. 137 
 
 itself. Thus, if any thing be extremely white, we say 
 it is " as white as white ;" meaning that it is inexpres- 
 sibly, or inconceivably white ; white as whiteness itself 
 in the abstract. " As old as old," meaning that any 
 attempt to ascertain its age would be fruitless. 
 
 Before we quit the consideration of adjectives, some 
 notice must be taken of our great fondness for com- 
 pound epithets. Though they be generally under- 
 stood to be the proper ornaments of poetical or highly 
 rhetorical composition, we use them in our most fami- 
 liar colloquy. It will be readily conceived that the 
 formation of them is somewhat licentious. In fact, 
 they are "graces snatched beyond the reach of art." 
 It is not therefore easy to prescribe rules for the use of 
 them. Some little may, however, be done in this way. 
 For instance, familiar similes are easily convertible, 
 and often converted, into them. If any body, or any 
 thing, be as white as snow, or as black as a coal, it is 
 more poetical to call it snow-white, or coal-black. But 
 we are fond of decorating our plain prose with the 
 same elegance. When we meet with something as dry 
 as a bone bleached in the air j as bitter as gall ; as cold 
 as a frog ; as slow as a slug ; as tired as a dog with his 
 day's hunting ; instead of formally detailing our mean- 
 ing in set terms, we give it, with a more graceful concin- 
 nity, in the compound form, bone-dry, gall-bitter, 
 slug-slow, frog-cold, dog-tired. We follow an ancient 
 model. Shakspeare has dog-weary, snail-slow, and 
 key-cold, where he certainly does not mean to make 
 his characters express themselves poetically. One 
 other mode of fabricating these compound terms may 
 be mentioned. It consists in tacking together, off-hand, 
 
 N3
 
 138 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 two or more words, no matter what parts of speech, 
 into one adjective, by means of the terminal syllable 
 ly. These bold figures are of course prompted by 
 some vehement emotion. A certain widow Go,* in 
 venting her just wrath on a profligate fellow who had 
 run away and left several illegitimate children to be 
 maintained by the parish, called him, with perfect 
 fluency, "a. toss-pot-ly, stuff-gut-ly, smoke-bacco-ly, 
 whore-monger-ly, starve-bastard-ly vagabond. 1 ' A 
 strong, and certainly an ingenious compression of vitu- 
 peration. It would not be easy to condense more of 
 it into the same number of words. 
 
 Pronouns. 
 
 It is very common to impute to us provincials in 
 general, the use of the letter a, as a substitute for the 
 personal pronoun he. Shakspeare has put it into the 
 mouth of Mrs. Quickly, and of others of his low cha- 
 racters. But it is not so. It would, indeed, be a very 
 improper and unaccountable representative. An at- 
 tentive listener, properly qualified with ears, would not 
 catch the power of a, or of any modification of it. It 
 is in fact he, without the aspirate, and the e left alone, 
 pronounced exactly like the French monosyllables, le, 
 de, &c. Thus it is with us at least, whatever it may 
 be elsewhere. r>?* --,< 
 
 What is very often used for the relatives tWzo or 
 which. Ex. " The woman ivhat came yesterday." 
 " The pigs what I bought last Tuesday." What is, in- 
 deed, very generally used as a sort of relative, but 
 
 *See Cralibe's Parish Register.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 139 
 
 with an antecedent implied, or involved, in it. Ex. 
 " That is what I meant." i. e. " the thing which." But 
 the simple substitution of it for the proper relatives is 
 certainly provincial, if it be not peculiar to us. 
 
 Every body occasionally uses the pronoun personal 
 they as an indefinite, in such phrases as, " they say,'' 
 &c. meaning no particular individuals, but that any 
 body, or every body, says so. In short it is equiva- 
 lent to the French " On dit" But we go farther than 
 this, and speak as if we thought the importation of the 
 foreign on, and the conversion of it into the pronoun 
 or pronominal adjective one, were quite unnecessary, 
 for that our own Saxon word they would have served 
 all purposes quite as well. Instances are very nume- 
 rous. What Lowth has given may serve as well as 
 any : " One is apt to think," " one sees," " one sup- 
 poses." In every one of these, and in all like in- 
 stances, we substitute they. And we are not without 
 ancient and venerable authority. In 2 Kings, xix. 35, 
 we read, " When they rose early in the morning, be- 
 hold they were all dead corpses.'' The expression is 
 by no means perspicuous. It has even somewhat of an 
 Irish aspect. The word they has two different mean- 
 ings. In the first instance it is indefinite, and in French 
 would be, "quand on se levait de grand matin.'' In the 
 second it is definitely applied to those who had been 
 smitten by the destroying angel. 
 
 As we sink all distinction between the nominative 
 and accusative plural of the pronoun of the second 
 person, ye and you, there seems to be a sort of parity 
 in doing the same thing in that of the first person, and 
 saying both, " Let us go," and " shall us go?" Shak-
 
 140 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 speare has used the latter phrase twice at least. If it 
 be in familiar and low dialogue, it is more to our pur- 
 pose. It was in existence at that time. We even use 
 me as a nominative case, and are certainly not singular 
 in so doing. Ex. " My wife and me are (perhaps is) 
 going to London to-morrow." This is, no doubt, a 
 Gallicism. Moi is so used, and when je would be 
 thought positively improper, which is more than can 
 be said for our practice. 
 
 We entertain so high an opinion of the essential ser- 
 vices of the personal pronouns (especially of those of 
 the third person) as agents or nominative cases of 
 verbs, that we very commonly obtrude them, even after 
 the verb is sufficiently provided with one. Ex. " Mr. 
 Smith he came to my house yesterday." " His family 
 they are all gone out." These may be understood as 
 elliptical expressions ; the words omitted being " as 
 to " or " with respect to " Mr. Smith and his family. 
 However this may be, we are not answerable for it. 
 Shakspeare has it. Ex. " The Count he is my hus- 
 band." All's Well, &c. The nobles they are fled." 
 Richard II. In fact it is an Anglo-Saxon idiom. 
 " The Bishop he wrote," is literally taken from a Saxon 
 document in Hickes ; who seems to consider the usage 
 as intended to be emphatical. Certainly it is so, in 
 many passages of our translation of the Bible, and of 
 other writings of that age. But, in the passage quoted 
 above from Hickes, it seems to be plain narrative. 
 Certainly we mean no more by it than simple assertion. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the verb is repeated with the pro- 
 nominal agent. Ex. " Says Mr. Smith, says he." This
 
 INTRODUCTION. 14 
 
 may be emphatical, as far as mere awkward repetition 
 can make it so. 
 
 The demonstrative them is very commonly used for 
 those, and in all cases. Ex. " Them are the women I 
 meant." " I saw them boys yesterday." There is often 
 annexed, which certainly makes the phrase more 
 pointedly demonstrative, and perhaps emphatical. Ex. 
 " Give me them-there books. 
 
 Verbs and Participles* 
 
 This subject may be most properly begun with the 
 few remarks we have to make on the verb substantive. 
 
 The antiquated form be of the present tense indica- 
 tive, so very common in Old English, and not less so 
 now, in many dialects, is almost extinct in our's. It 
 is heard but very rarely indeed, perhaps never, but in 
 such an exclamation as " Here he be !" On the con- 
 trary, it is in very frequent and correct use, as the sub- 
 junctive present, after the signs if or though. This cor- 
 rectness is not a little remarkable in those who use it 
 habitually, and, being untaught, are unable to give any 
 reason for their practice. 
 
 Our constant use of tear for ivas, is merely using the 
 plural form for singular also, and pronouncing it with a 
 broader vowel. Indeed, war appears to have been the 
 Danish form of iuere or uaer ; and has therefore been 
 a very long time in our uninterrupted possession. 
 Having nothing farther to observe here we may pro- 
 ceed to consider verbs in general. 
 
 In the Anglo-Saxon, and in the English, which ex- 
 actly follows it in this respect, the structure of the 
 verb is simpler than in any other language. Still, as
 
 142 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 no grammar was ever constructed before the language 
 to which it belongs had reached a state of improve- 
 ment and refinement, it is not impossible that traces 
 may occasionally be found of earlier stages, in which 
 this characteristic simplicity may have been even 
 greater still. Something like this has already been 
 observed with reference to our use of certain plural 
 numbers. On this observation it is intended to found 
 a conjecture, by no means an assertion, that a particu- 
 lar usage in all verbs, appearing to be grossly ungram- 
 matical, but to which we are inveterately addicted, is 
 in fact a stray remnant of very ancient simplicity ; 
 nay, almost of primitive simplicity j if we admit the 
 literal identity of the original nouns and their verbs 
 (whichsoever of them might be of prior invention), and 
 that the only way to distinguish the one from the other 
 was by position or context. 
 
 The indicative mood, present tense, singular num- 
 ber of the English verb, stands thus ; 
 
 I love thou lovest he loveth, or loves. 
 Now, we so stubbornly maintain that the first and third 
 persons are of the very same form, " I love, he love," 
 that it is not very uncommon to meet with persons of 
 even rather more than decent education, who are oc- 
 casionally caught tripping in this point. Of the second 
 person it is not necessary for us to speak, for we never 
 use it ; though it seems in the Northern dialects to be 
 no less expressive of easy familiarity than the tu-toi of 
 the French. The proposed conjecture is, that the 
 sameness of the first and third person is no solecism, 
 as it may seem to be, but in fact an archaism. Some- 
 thing, it is hoped, may be said in support of this notion.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 143 
 
 In the first place, the learned Hickes, in four of the 
 five conjugations in his Islandic Grammar, makes the 
 second and third persons singular alike. In the fifth 
 conjugation, all the three persons singular are so. The 
 example he gives is 
 
 1. her. 2. her. 3. her (porto). 
 
 Considering the intimate connexion of the several Go- 
 thic languages with each other, this seems to be much 
 to our purpose. 
 
 But we may perhaps come nearer still to our point 
 by observing, that in the Anglo-Saxon itself, and in the 
 English after it, the three plural persons are the same in 
 all tenses. What improbability is there, that the same 
 rule prevailed in the singular number, in some early 
 and simpler stage ? It is easily conceivable that some 
 light might be thrown on this point in what is re- 
 corded to have been written on the subject of Gram- 
 mar by Ven. Bede and other Saxon writers. But 
 wherever those ancient tracts are to be found, they 
 are far beyond our reach. Indeed, Wanley's Cata- 
 logue, in the second volume of Hickes's Thesaurus, may 
 serve as a guide to them, and, should opportunity oc- 
 cur, they might be consulted. But, in truth, this 
 seems scarcely a " dignus vindice nodus." We may 
 rest well content with probable conjecture. 
 
 That conjecture is very considerably strengthened 
 by the certainty that in almost all our many auxilia- 
 ries, the first and third persons singular of the present 
 tense are the same. And this suffices us, as we take 
 no cognizance of the second. These auxiliaries are 
 can may shall.
 
 144 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Ex. I can thou canst he can. 
 I may thou mayest he may. 
 I shall thou shalt he shall. 
 
 Let us next endeavour to account for the introduc- 
 tion of the syllable " etti' into the third person. 
 
 The three persons of the plural number had all an- 
 ciently that termination. 
 
 Ex. We loveth ye loveth they loveth. 
 
 In process of time this " ith"was changed into " en." 
 
 Ex. We loven ye loven they loven ; 
 as in the imperfect tense it had always been 
 
 We loveden ye loveden they loveden ; 
 and of both these formations instances are to be found 
 in very early English. Long after the language had 
 become English "en" was dropped in its turn. Now 
 it is not at all easy to conceive that, whilst " eth" was 
 used in the whole plural number, it was also used to 
 distinguish the third from the other persons in the sin- 
 gular. It was more likely to have been transferred to 
 it when a new plural termination came into use. As 
 for the final "s" in the third person singular, it is al- 
 most a modern innovation ; certainly of no consider- 
 able standing. If this be no proof, it at least affords 
 some probability, that our very remote ancestors said, 
 as we say, " He love." But, however that might be, 
 some of our nearer forefathers most assuredly did. We 
 find many traces of it in different periods of o. E. 
 Chaucer, in the Wife of Bath's Tale, uses " chese" 
 (choose) for " cheseth." In the proclamation for ap- 
 prehending Sir John Oldcastle, in the reign of Henry 
 the Fifth, it is said, "that he refuse." Tusser complains 
 that the corn " shed as it stand." The last authority
 
 INTRODUCTION. 145 
 
 perhaps, which can be found in point, is that ofPepys, 
 in his Diary. He often writes " He do," &c. Upon 
 the whole, our use of these third persons is not with- 
 out very respectable countenance and support. 
 
 The simple structure of the English verb, exactly 
 following the Saxon, admits of three varieties of in- 
 flexion only ; viz. the present and imperfect tenses of 
 the indicative mood and the participle passive. All 
 other modifications of time or action, expressed by in- 
 flected tenses in languages more artificially constructed, 
 being conveyed in our's by means of our great abund- 
 ance of auxiliaries. It has been thought by some that 
 the participle active should be added as a fourth in- 
 flexion. But this seems to be a distinction without 
 actual difference, as it is in every instance formed by 
 the addition of "end" in Saxon, and of "ing" in 
 English, to the present tense. This is indeed what 
 every body knows ; and it might be impertinent to 
 mention these, and one or two other particulars much 
 of the same kind, did it not seem necessary to intro- 
 duce them as foundations of what is to follow, and is 
 much more proper to our purpose. 
 
 By these three principal parts our grammarians have 
 arranged all our verbs under the two heads of regular 
 and irregular; an arrangement more comprehensive, 
 as well as more simple, than that of conjugations. We 
 could not have so arranged them, as they are in the 
 Latin and its derivative modern languages, by the pe" 
 nultim. of the infinitive mode, for with us it is invaria- 
 ble ; all infinitives having the adjunct " an" in Saxon, 
 and the prefix " to" in English. Neither could con- 
 jugations be discriminated, as they are in Greek, by 
 VOL. i. o
 
 146 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 characteristic letters ; with us, indeed, the character- 
 istics must have been syllables, not letters. And, in the 
 original monosyllabic brevity of our simple verbs, the 
 whole word must have been characteristic, excepting 
 an initial consonant, or consonants, when there hap- 
 pened to be any. These different forms of our verbs 
 must have produced a most unreasonable and unma- 
 nageable multitude of conjugations. But suppose 
 them made : scarcely in one of those many forms, if in 
 one, is the change of the present tense into the imper- 
 fect and participle effected by any uniform analogy. 
 Under every one of them exceptions must be made, 
 and the number of irregulars must still be great. The 
 difficulty is well cut short by ranging them all at once 
 as regulars and irregulars. 
 
 The character of regularity is allowed by gram- 
 marians to those verbs only which form the imperfect 
 and participle passive by simply adding the syllable 
 " ed," or, if the present have an " e' final, the letter 
 "e?" only. As 
 
 Mend mended mended. 
 Love loved loved. 
 
 It is not to be understood that all of the same form are 
 also regular. In the first instance, change but the 
 initial m into s, and we steal immediately into irregu- 
 larity. As 
 
 Send sent sent 
 
 The whole multitude of irregulars has been divided by 
 Lowth into three classes. It is not necessary for us, 
 indeed, if it would be possible, to follow him through 
 this division. Our unconnected remarks upon some of 
 them, to which we are now coming, may be taken as
 
 INTRODUCTION. 147 
 
 they occur with little regard to order : and they may 
 perhaps be best introduced by a general observation, 
 that we manifest a laudable anxiety to bring many of 
 these vagrants into a more orderly state, which, if it be 
 not what the grammarians call regularity, seems to us 
 to be so. Not, indeed, that we attempt it on any con- 
 sistent and uniform plan. There is one instance in 
 which we perfectly succeed in bringing to order all 
 verbs of one particular form, and that one only. In 
 other instances, either our endeavours or our success 
 are partial. But this only serves to prove the stubborn 
 and inveterate propensity to anomaly, which charac- 
 terizes the English language: and which cannot be 
 overcome even in those parts of it, in which most pains 
 are taken to that effect. Our first instance shall be an 
 imperfect attempt at perfect regularity. We always say 
 
 Sell selled selled. 
 
 Tell telled telled. 
 
 Catch catched catched. 
 
 Teach teached teached. 
 
 Seek seeked seeked. 
 
 Work worked worked. 
 
 Some few occasional attempts of a like sort might per- 
 haps be quoted ; but these are well established. 
 
 Of verbs in " ot," or " otoe," some very few are re- 
 gular, as Flow flowed flowed, 
 but the greater number follow the analogy of 
 
 Know knew known. 
 
 To facilitate correctness and uniformity of diction, 
 we contend that all without exceptions should follow 
 it; as Snow snew snown. 
 
 Mow mew mown.
 
 148 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Row rew rown. 
 Sow sew sown. 
 
 Here is surely enough of specimens. Of these, the 
 first is o. E. Hollingshed says, " It snetv during the 
 whole battle." The third is genuine Saxon. King 
 Canute, in the elegant little impromptu * so properly 
 preserved by Bentham and other authors, expresses 
 the pleasure he felt in hearing the monks of Ely sing 
 as he " re'w therby " in his boat on the river. By the 
 way, the monks, though they were pretty numerous, 
 must have had powerful voices. With respect to the 
 last instance, it coincides in the pronunciation of all 
 the three parts with those of 
 
 Sew sew sewn. 
 
 Ex. " Tom Smith sew a furrow, while his wife sew a 
 seam." 
 
 To the same rule we subject the verb " hoe," which 
 we pronounce (according to our rule, q. v.) as if it were 
 written "Aotw." 
 
 Hoe hew hown. 
 
 * But not given correctly even by Bentham in the History of Ely, 
 though he had the authentic record of it before him. In the ve- 
 nerable " Liber Eliensis," written considerably within a century after 
 the time of King Cnut, in the year 1 107, it stands thus : 
 " Merie sungen the munecb.es binnen Ely, 
 Tha Cnut Ching reu ther by 
 Roweth Cnites noer the lant 
 And here we these muneches sseng." 
 
 It is finished with an " etc'a," and the monkish scribe adds that in 
 his time the whole of it continued to be sung " in choris." Pity he 
 did not give the whole ! This one stanza however affords almost a 
 contemporary authority for our imperfect tense, end for the plural 
 termination in " elk,"
 
 INTRODUCTION. 149 
 
 Ex. " When Tom had finished sowing his barley, he 
 hew his banes." 
 
 We are not much less assiduous and successful in 
 bringing into order verbs which have a long i, in the 
 present. Some of them assume a short one in the im- 
 perfect ; others change it into a broader vowel, a, o, 
 or M. To the first we give a decided preference, and 
 are desirous of reducing those of the second form 
 to it : as Rise ris ride rid. 
 
 Rive ri v stride strid . 
 Smite smit drive driv. 
 
 never drove, but sometimes druv, which is merely a step 
 from driv. Shakspeare has requit in Tempest, and 
 betid in Richard II. and Chaucer has the same. 
 
 On the contrary, if the i in the present is short, we 
 prefer the broad vowel to the narrow in the imperfect, 
 as bid bod give gov sit sot. If it be said that 
 we are somewhat capricious, we despise the censure, 
 for we can prove it Anglo-Saxon. We also use stvum 
 for sfvam ; and Shakspeare has swum in Two Gentle- 
 men of Verona. 
 
 Among so many well-meant endeavours to regulate 
 and methodize, it is really mortifying to be obliged to 
 cite even one instance of a contrary description ; but 
 candour compels us to acknowledge that in the word 
 give, mentioned above, we are far from consistent. In 
 fact, we make sad confusion in its imperfect and par- 
 ticiple, using indiscriminately for the one or the other 
 giv, gav, gov, gin, gan, gon, syncopated from given, 
 gaven, orgoven; or even those words themselves are 
 used in their proper length and barbarism. 
 o 3
 
 150 
 
 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Almost all the words in ing take u in the imperfect, 
 as sing sung. 
 
 We wish to bring the few stragglers under the same 
 rule ; as Ming mung. 
 
 Ding dung. 
 Bring brung. 
 
 We use trough*, indeed, for the most part as the 
 participle (with our own pronunciation, of course), 
 but we say just as often / have brung, as I have 
 brought. 
 
 Verbs involving the syllable eave, or ave, follow 
 very generally the analogy of leave left. 
 
 We manifest here the same love of uniformity ; we 
 say Weave weft. 
 
 Save seft. 
 Wave weft. 
 
 Dr. Lowth gives a list of verbs ending in d or t, 
 which have the present, imperfect, and participle all 
 alike ; as Cast cast cast 
 
 Shut shut shut. 
 
 He accounts for this uniformity by supposing the 
 second and third to be contractions, to avoid the harsh 
 forms " casted" and shutted." We use some few others, 
 without being at all scrupulous about their termina- 
 tions, for which we have not the same excuse to make, 
 but full as good a one correct usage. 
 Come come come. Ex. She come this morning. 
 Bid bid bid. I was bid to do so. 
 
 See see see I see her yesterday. 
 
 Run run run. He run for a wager last 
 
 week. 
 
 If we are called upon to account for our diction, we
 
 INTRODUCTION. 151 
 
 may shew some cause. In the first instance, the im- 
 perfect should probably be written cum, as it fre- 
 quently is in Old English, and by illiterate modern 
 scribes. For the second, we have the authority of 
 Shakspeare, in Romeo and Juliet. For the third, that 
 of Chaucer, who makes sey,* or seie, the imperfect of 
 see, which could only be faintly distinguished in pro- 
 nunciation from the present, and we make no distinc- 
 tion at all. The fourth must even take its chance. 
 
 Some few detached instances of departure from mo- 
 dern formation might have been added, but are not 
 worth formal mention here, as not constituting a rule 
 or analogy ; such as steal staul, shriek shruk. 
 
 It may seem as if some of our verbs had, in process 
 of time, grown up out of the imperfect tenses of 
 others; or rather as if they were those imperfects 
 themselves in some sort emancipated, and, if not be- 
 come absolutely independent of their principals, at 
 least clearly distinguishable from them in sense. As 
 the vowel of the derived verb is broader or narrower 
 than that of the original, it becomes in one case an in- 
 tensive or augmentative, and in the other a diminutive. 
 Under those heads, indeed, it will be better to range 
 examples. 
 
 The subjunctive form of a verb, without its sign 
 that, is as anciently and idiomatically used in East 
 Anglian as in Latin, instead of the infinitive. Ex. 
 " This was what made me I would not act as con. 
 stable." In precisely the same form is Mrs. Quickly's 
 
 * By very clear analogy, Chaucer also uses jleefleye, in which 
 we do not follow him.
 
 152 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 consolatory advice to Falstaff, when she "bade him 
 he should not think about God." 
 
 The omission of the sign to before an infinitive, 
 though certainly not peculiar to us, seems to be much 
 more familiarly in use than is common. Ex. " Come 
 and help me dress, reap, or mow." 
 
 The sign to is omitted also after other verbs than 
 those enumerated by grammarians, bid, dare, need, &c. 
 Ex. " You ought not walk so late a' nights." " Why 
 need you do it?" 
 
 Participles. 
 
 A little remains to be said on participles in parti- 
 cular. 
 
 It is observable that in our participles active the 
 final g is always mute; for instance, taking is never dis- 
 tinguishable from taken. Indeed, by those who do not 
 pique themselves on grammatical accuracy, and spell 
 by the ear, they are very commonly written in the same 
 form. It is not difficult to account for this. We seem 
 to retain the Saxon termination of the participle, 
 which was and or end, not ing : and it is certain that 
 the letter d is more easily lost in such a place than g. 
 
 In participles passive ending in d we are extremely 
 apt to substituted for it: as kilt for killed; spilt, with 
 the short i, from spill, and with the long i from spoil. 
 It may be allowed to be very easy in many cases to 
 confound these two final mutes; and that, in some such 
 combinations with other letters, it is even difficult to 
 give the dhs distinct and proper sound in the rapidity 
 of utterance. There must have been an original dis- 
 position to this substitution oft ford. The Low Scotch
 
 INTRODUCTION. 153 
 
 always has it for ed. So have we in some instances, as 
 raggit for ragged. If this will not serve us a defence, 
 I know not what we can do further than appeal to Irish 
 authority for the first word. 
 
 Of our disposition to confound imperfect tenses with 
 passive participles a passing notice has already been 
 taken. But this seems the proper place for our de- 
 fence. We not only often make one word serve both 
 purposes, when it appears that two have been provided 
 for us ; but we sometimes form a participle from the im- 
 perfect, as tooken,forsooken, &c. uncouth words enough, 
 but justifiable by ancient authorities. Our ancestors 
 had formations of the same kind, scarcely less awk- 
 ward. Chaucer has clomben, from climb, clomb ; and 
 cropen, from creep, crope. Gotten, from get, got, is 
 very common in modern English ; but getten, very 
 common in the north, is at least a more orderly for- 
 mation from the present tense. 
 
 Prepositions. 
 
 We are accustomed to make the preposition in serve 
 in our dialect, as it does in the Latin language, to ex- 
 press both motion and rest. In the one language, the 
 difference is marked by the case of the noun which 
 follows ; but we can effect it only by a preceding verb. 
 We say indifferently to " go " and to " stay in the 
 house." Certainly the substitution of in for into ap- 
 pears at this time very incorrect; but we have old au- 
 thority for it in abundance. In Shakspeare we find 
 " Bring in grace," (i.e. into favour). All's well, &c- 
 " Go in the vault." Rom. and Jul. " Turn this fellow 
 in his grace," (\. e. into it). Rich. III.
 
 154 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 The preposition by, signifying continuance of time, 
 " by the space of many years," is common enough in 
 old authors, as far back as Chaucer at least ; but John- 
 son says it is out of use. It is not so with us. Ex. 
 " He took care to do it by his life-time." 
 
 There is another sense of the same preposition, 
 which Johnson does notice at all, but which is perfectly 
 familiar to us. It is expressive of relation to some 
 person or thing. Ex. " I never heard no harm by the 
 man." Here again Shakspeare supports us: "By him, 
 Or by this woman, what know you ?" All 's well, &c. 
 This may indeed come under the comprehensive figure 
 ellipsis, the participle " done," or " committed," being 
 understood. 
 
 On is used for of. Ex. " I heard on it yesterday." 
 Shakspeare has " out on " for " out of," in Troilus and 
 Cressida. Whether misled by the ear, or in what 
 other way, may not be worth enquiry, but we carry it 
 a step farther ; in which it is pretty certain that we can 
 derive no countenance from Shakspeare, or any one 
 else. We change the on into in, and always say, " Go 
 out in the house." " He is out in health;" " out in 
 temper;" "out in spirits," &c. 
 
 Of, in its turn, is also substituted for on. Ex. " He 
 got up of his horse." But there is ample authority for 
 confounding on and of. If we say, (< I told him on it," 
 or " I bestowed it of him ;" the former is very frequent 
 in old English, and Shakspeare must answer for the 
 other. 
 
 The preposition o^is always followed by his humble 
 and kindred attendant of. Ex. " He fell off" of his 
 horse." But here, by the unlucky intimacy of con-
 
 INTRODUCTION. 155 
 
 nection between o/'and on, we are apt to say off on, a 
 combination which may be thought no less whimsically 
 contradictory in terms than out in, though neither the 
 one nor the other strikes us with any impropriety. 
 
 For the preposition upon, when it signifies motion to, 
 we use onto (why not as good as into?} Ex. " Throw- 
 some coals onto the fire." In use, this seems distinct 
 from unto. Yet it is certainly the same word, and with 
 a better, i. e. the true Anglo-Saxon, pronunciation. 
 
 The prepositions on and upon seem to coincide ex- 
 actly with super in Latin, expressive either of motion 
 or rest; those significations being discriminated in each 
 language respectively, as was just now observed of the 
 preposition in. We say in English, " the book stands 
 on the shelf," or " set it on the shelf." In Latin, "su- 
 per pluteo," or " pluteum." Johnson has not exempli- 
 fied the latter use of the preposition, though he has 
 given many senses, or rather applications, of both on 
 and upon. Into is now generally, and probably has 
 always in great measure, been used, with respect to in, 
 as denoting motion. We use (as has been before ob- 
 served) onto, with the like relation to on. So, proba- 
 bly, do other provincials, and on the same warrant of 
 antiquity. The analogy is certainly good. 
 
 For on and upon, as betokening rest, we are much 
 in the habit of using a whimsical sort of compound pre- 
 position, a-top-of, or a-top-on. No doubt it is common 
 enough to say, that a man "is a-top-of a. tower," or 
 " of a. tree." But we use it in such phrases as " 1 see 
 Mr. Smith yesterday a-top-of his new horse;" and, 
 " the dog is asleep under (or rather, undernean) the 
 table, and the cat she is playing a-top-on f t."
 
 156 VOCABULARY OF EAST ANGLIA. 
 
 Negatives and Affirmatives. 
 
 We do not accord with the rule, that " two nega- 
 tives make an affirmative, by destroying each other ;" 
 nor yet ; as we learn in our Greek Grammar, that they 
 make the negation more vehement. In using two, or 
 more, we mean to express simple negation. A cot- 
 tager, complaining of the failure of his orchard in a 
 bad season, said, " I have no apples to year, no pears, 
 no plums, no cherries, no nuts, no nothing at all." The 
 vindication of my poor neighbour is easy and ample. 
 The double, or more than double, negative was in use 
 in the Saxon language, from which Chaucer had it, as 
 Dr. Hickes expressly says. This usage was continued 
 down to Shakspeare's time undoubtedly, for he abounds 
 in it. In fact, the single negative has only been used 
 since the modern improvement of our language, within 
 less than two hundred years. Bentley uses the double 
 one in the letter on Phalaris, though he would most 
 likely have "slashed " it, had he found it in Boyle.
 
 THE 
 
 VOCABULARY 
 
 EAST ANGL.IA. 
 
 VOL.
 
 ABBREVIATIONS. 
 
 A. s. Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 B. A. Barrett's Alvearie. 
 B. o. Barn's Glossary. 
 B. JON. Ben. Jonson. 
 
 B. TR. Bible Translation. 
 
 BR. Brockett's Glossary. 
 
 CH. Chaucer. 
 
 CR. Craven Glossary. 
 
 DICTT. Dictionaries in general. 
 
 E. A. East Anglian. 
 
 GR. Grose's Provincial Diet. 
 
 JAM. Dr. Jamieson. 
 
 JEN. Jennings's Glossary. 
 
 JUN. Junius Etymologium. 
 
 L. sc. Lowland Scotch. 
 
 Mix. Minshew's Diet. 
 
 M.S. Moor's Suffolk Words. 
 
 N. E. Northern English. 
 
 N. G. Nares's Glossary. 
 
 o. E. Old English. 
 
 o. V. Ortus Vocabulorum. 
 
 p. B. Percy's Ballads. 
 
 PE. Pegge's Supplement to Grose. 
 
 p. G. Percy's Glossary. 
 
 p. L. Paston Letters. 
 
 P. PL. Piers Plowman. 
 
 PR. PA. Promptuarium Parvulonim. 
 
 q. v. quod vide. 
 
 a. N. c. Ray's North Country Words. 
 
 H. s. E. C. South and East Country Words. 
 
 sc. N. Scotch Novels. 
 
 SH. Shakspeare. 
 
 SK. Skinner's Etymol. 
 
 SP. Spenser. 
 
 SOM. Somner. 
 
 T. Tusser. 
 
 T. B. Tim Bobbin. 
 
 T. J. Todd's Johnson. 
 
 v. D. Various Dialects. 
 
 w. c. Wilbraham's Chesh. Gloss. 
 
 w. W. R. Willan's West Riding Words. Archaeol. 
 
 w. Wickliffe's Translation of the Gospels.
 
 VOCABULARY. 
 
 A. This letter has been used to serve many irregular 
 purposes ; as an awkward contraction of the verb 
 have ; as a still more awkward representative of the 
 pronoun he ; as a substitute for the several prepo- 
 sitions at, to, in, into, on, and of; as an useless ini- 
 tial augment of a word ; and as a ridiculous ap- 
 pendage to a verse. Of all these anomalies, an ac- 
 count sufficiently particular is given in Todd's Edi- 
 tion of Johnson's Dictionary. For the origin of 
 some of them it seems easy to account from careless 
 and confused pronunciation ; for that of the others, 
 in great measure, if not entirely, from analogy 
 with the French preposition a. At any rate, we 
 are not particularly interested about them here 
 We use them, indeed ; but they are by no means 
 peculiarly our own, nor used more by us than by 
 others. If any one of them seem worth notice, it 
 will be found in its place. 
 
 ABOUT, prep, near to. This sense is, of course, in the 
 DICTT. ; but there is a particular East Anglian mode 
 of using the word in conjunction with a pronoun, 
 which is not common. Ex. " Is the horse worth
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 forty pounds? Nothing about it." " Is he a mile 
 off? No, nor about it." " About forty pounds," and 
 " about a mile," are phrases common enough ; but 
 in those now quoted, the prep, near would certainly 
 be used. 
 
 A-DAYS, prep, a shorter form of the general phrase 
 " now-a-days." Ex. " Corn sells cheap a-days." 
 " I seldom see Mr. Smith a-days." o. E. 
 
 ADDLE, AIDLE, u. 
 
 1. To grow, to thrive. Ex. " That crop addles" 
 
 2. To earn, to profit gradually. Ex. "I have at last 
 addled up a little money." 
 
 A. s. eadlian, prsemium. R. S.E. c. T. w. c. 
 AFEARD, adj. afraid. In Chaucer's time there was 
 certainly some difference between the significations 
 of these two words, though with us they are per- 
 fectly synonymous. They occur in the same verse: 
 
 " This wif was not aferde ne affraide." Cant. Tales. 
 
 The difference seems to result, naturally enough, 
 from their different derivations. Afeard is clearly 
 of Saxon origin, (from A. s. jferght, timor, ) and 
 means, affected by fear, or in a fright. Afraid is 
 French, from effrayer, to startle or scare ; and 
 therefore signifies put into a fright by some recent 
 cause. BR. JEN. 
 
 AFORE, prep, before, o. E. JEN. 
 
 AGAIN, prep. 
 
 1. Against. Ex. " I am not for it, but again it." 
 
 2. Near to. Ex. " She stood again the door." If she 
 stood, very near the door, it would be more correct 
 to say " close again," or " right again ;" if facing 
 it, at some little distance, " over again."
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 5 
 
 AGE, v. to grow old, to assume the appearance of old 
 age. The very common word aged is the regular 
 part, pass, of this verb. It is strictly Saxon, though 
 in that language a compound word is used, and by 
 us the simple A. s. aldagian, veterascere. 
 
 AGGRAVATE, v. to irritate, v. D. 
 
 AGONE, adv. ago. Our word is the better of the two. 
 It involves the part. pass, and therefore expresses 
 more distinctly time actually past : indeed it is 
 precisely and identically A. s. agan, praeteritus. 
 
 AGREEABLE, adj. compliant. Taking this word in 
 its ordinary sense, a man announcing himself to be 
 so, would certainly oe thought vain, and perhaps 
 mistaken. In our sense of it there is neither va- 
 nity nor possibility of mistake : " I am agreeable," 
 means simply " I agree to your proposal." w.c. 
 
 AGUE, s. swelling and inflammation from taking cold. 
 An "ague in the face" is a very common con- 
 sequence of facing a Norfolk North-easter. 
 
 AGUE-OINTMENT, s. an unguent made with the 
 leaves of elder, held to be of sovereign efficacy in 
 curing agues in the face. 
 
 AHUH, adv. awry, aslant. A. s. aivoh, torte. 
 
 ALE-STOOL, ALE-STALL, s. the stool or stand on 
 which casks of ale or beer are placed in the cellar. 
 A. s. eale, cerevisium, and steal, subsellium. 
 
 ALLEN, s. grass-land lately broken up. Aid-land. It 
 is synon. with OLLAND, q. v. Aid is the A. s. form 
 of old. This word is most familiarly used in Suf- 
 folk, the other in Norfolk. 
 
 ALLEY, s. a choice taw, not made of baked clay, as 
 u3
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 vulgar marbles are, but of alabaster, or what is 
 supposed to be so ; and thence its name. BR. 
 
 AMPEH, s. a sort of inflamed swelling. A. s. ampre, 
 varix. SK. JEN. " a small red pimple." 
 
 AMPERSAND, 5. the character fy, representing the 
 conjunction and. V. N. G. A 'per se A. This is 
 and per se and ; by a little smoothing and elision 
 in pronunciation, becoming Ampersand. "The ex- 
 pression," says the learned author referred to, " is 
 not yet forgotten in the nursery." No ; nor far 
 beyond the nursery. It is remembered and used 
 in the village-school, in the cottage, the shop, and 
 the farm-house. This formula of spelling and 
 putting together was applied to every syllable 
 consisting of one letter only ; as we all may re- 
 member who learned our first elements on the 
 principles of the old school. Only, indeed, the 
 dame was wont to express per se in her own Eng- 
 lish, and teach us to say "A by the self A."' The 
 character $ is, however, in fact, originally and 
 properly Latin, and is a combination of the two 
 letters e and t, which constitute the common con- 
 junction copulative in that language. It has been 
 adopted and transferred into other languages, for 
 the same use, with or without the same propriety. 
 It must be allowed to exhibit stronger traces of its 
 two constituent letters than the majority of those 
 Greek abbreviations, tables of which, more or less 
 copious, are inserted in almost all grammars, and 
 which are so very embarrassing in ancient MSS. 
 and early printed editions. A curious and irrefra- 
 gable proof of the Latinity of this character exists
 
 EAST ANGLIA. T 
 
 in the rich library at Holkham, Norfolk. In a 
 Latin MS. of the Four Gospels, supposed to be of 
 the tenth century, it is used as a part of many 
 words, at the end, and even in the body of them. 
 Instances are, posset and sciretis ; written thus, 
 possSf and scirfyis. There is a multitude of others. 
 AN, conj. 
 
 1. If. Ex. Anldo," &c. 
 
 2. Than. Ex. Little more an a half." Both o. E. 
 In this sense it seems a corruption, or licentious 
 abbreviation. 
 
 ANAN ! interj. How ! what say you ? It is often con- 
 tracted to A'an, or N'an. It may be, as Mr. Brockett 
 conjectures, the Fr. interrogation ain, said by Le 
 Roux to be " commune aux petites gens, et fort 
 incivile parmi des personnes polies;" which is pre- 
 cisely the case with our own word. Or perhaps 
 we may make it more our own by considering it 
 as an invitation to come near, in order to be better 
 heard, and deriving it from A. s. nean, prope. BR. 
 w.c. JEN. 
 
 ANBERRY, s. 
 
 1. A small swelling, or pustule, to which horses are 
 are subject on the softest parts of their bodies. In 
 books of Farriery, and in the DICTT. the word is 
 Anbury, which may possibly be right ; and so, per- 
 ad venture, may Skinner's elaborate derivation of it. 
 Still I beg leave to submit a very different one. 
 
 2. A small knob, or excrescence, on turnips and other 
 roots. In both cases, these are very well known 
 to be caused by the punctures of insects to deposit 
 their eggs. If, therefore, it be not attributing to 
 our rude and remote ancestors more accurate ob-
 
 8 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 servation of nature than they may be thought 
 likely to have made, our word may be a derivative 
 of A. s. anbryrdan, compungere. 
 
 ANCHOR, s. the part of a buckle commonly called 
 the chape, put into a slit in the strap ; so called 
 from some resemblance in shape to an anchor. BR. 
 
 ANCHOR, v. to hold like an anchor. The strong 
 tenacious spreading roots of trees or vigorous 
 plants are said to "anchor out." 
 
 AN-END, adv. onward, towards the end. The letter 
 a (becoming an before a vowel) is prefixed to the 
 word end, as it is to many others, along, aside, &c. 
 When Protheus, in the " Two Gentlemen of Ve- 
 rona," calls his man Launce "a slave, who still 
 an-end puts him to shame," though he puzzles the 
 learned commentators, he is familiarly intelligible 
 to an East Anglian clown, who calls to his com- 
 panion to "go an end," when he wants him to go 
 forward. It also signifies upright, rearing, w. c. 
 
 ANGRY, adj. painfully inflamed. Ex. " My corn, or 
 my kibe, is very angry to-night." In the PR. PA. 
 anger is given as a synonym of anguish, and ren- 
 dered into Latin by angor. 
 
 ANPASTY, s. another name for Ampersand. It means 
 and past y. To be sure it is also on the horn- 
 book past Z. But that crabbed and impracticable 
 double letter could not be brought into an euphon- 
 ous, or even an utterable syllable, to close the word 
 So the fabricator of it went back, and found the 
 very next letter suitable to his purpose. In JEN. it is 
 Anpassy, and the author supposes passy a corrup- 
 tion of per se. No doubt it is very probable ; but 
 we must find a derivation for our own word.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 9 
 
 APPLE-JACK, s. a homely sort of pastry, made by 
 folding sliced apples with sugar in a coarse crust, 
 and baking them without a pan. It is otherwise 
 called ajlap-jach, an apple-hoglin, a crab-lanthorn, 
 and a turn-over, q. v. 
 
 APPLE-JOHN, JOHN-APPLE, s. We retain the 
 name, but whether we mean the same variety of 
 fruit which was so called in Shakspeare's time, it is 
 not possible to ascertain. Probably we do not. In 
 2d pt. Hen. IV. Prince Hal certainly meant a large 
 round apple, apt to shrivel and wither by long 
 keeping, like his fat companion. This is not parti- 
 cularly characteristic of our John-apple. 
 
 APIION, s. the cawl or omentum of a hog. Its size, 
 position, and the fine vascular and adipose ramifi- 
 cations, which overspread it like lace-work, make 
 the name much more applicable to it, than to the 
 fat skinny covering of the belly of a goose or duck, 
 to which it is commonly applied. 
 
 ARGUFY, v. to import, to have weight as argument. 
 Ex. " What does that argufy ?" JEX. 
 
 ARSLE, v. 
 
 1. To move backwards. This is the primary signifi- 
 cation of the word, which is L. sc. JAM. 
 
 2. To be unquiet, to fidget, to move frequently in any 
 direction, particularly on a seat. In this secondary 
 sense the adverb about is usually annexed. Belg. 
 arselem, retrocedere. 
 
 ARSELING POLE, s. the pole with which bakers 
 spread the hot embers to all parts of the oven. It 
 is otherwise called a ivrastling-pole, which seems 
 somewhat better descriptive of its use ; for ivrastle 
 is certainly of kin to wrest. The words are the
 
 10 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 same, varied by a sort of metathesis. The first can 
 only mean, " to throw backwards." 
 
 ARSELINS, adv. backwards. L. sc. JAM. 
 
 ARTICLE, s. a poor creature ! a wretched animal ! 
 Probably the first introducer of this term of ex- 
 treme contempt meant, that the person to whom it 
 is applicable is as completely insignificant in him- 
 self as an article in grammar. 
 
 AS, pron. rel. who, which. Ex. Those as sleep. SH. 
 
 AS, partic. redund. Ex. " He will come as to-morrow." 
 
 O. E. P. L. 
 
 ASOSH, ASHOSH, ad. awry, aslant; differently 
 
 formed from the same etymon as AHUH, q. v. 
 
 But ahuh seems to come nearer to the Saxon ori 
 
 ginal. 
 ATOP OF, prep. upon. Ex. "I saw Mr. Brown 
 
 a'top of his new horse yesterday." 
 ATTER, s. pus, morbid matter. A. s. attre, venenum. 
 
 L. sc. JAM. GR. 
 
 ATTERY, adj. purulent. L. sc. JAM. 
 ATTONCE, ATTONES, adv. at once. SP. Ex. 
 
 '* Do it attonce." 
 
 ATWEEN, prep, between, o. E. 
 AVEL, s. the awn or beard of barley. A. s. aivel, sub- 
 
 ula. M. s. 
 AUGHT, v. imperf. and part, of atve ; another form of 
 
 oive. Ex. ' He aught me ten pounds." 
 AVISED, part, aware, informed. " Are you avised of 
 
 that?" quoth Dame Quickly to Master Slender's 
 
 man in the " Merry Wives of Windsor." Just so 
 
 would a modern East Anglian Dame Quickly say. 
 
 Fr. s'aviser. 
 AUSIER, s. the osier. This word seems to point at
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 11 
 
 the proper origin of the name. The genus of 
 plants in question grows for the most part in or 
 near water. But in all the French Dictionaries 
 which have come within reach, it occurs only 
 under the letter O. Surely it must once have been 
 eausier* 
 
 AWK, adj. inverted, or confused. Bells are " rung 
 awk" to give alarm of fire. This is the only connec- 
 tion in which the word is used among us, without 
 its adjunct ware?. L'Estrange (who was a Norfolk 
 man) uses it, In PR. PA. auk is rendered into La- 
 tin by perversi. Ray says, that awkward is opposed 
 to toward. R. s. E. c. 
 
 AX, v. to ask. v. D. Used by many old authors, and 
 in fact, original Saxon, A. s. acsian, interrogare. 
 
 B. 
 
 BAB, v. to fish in a simple and inartificial manner, by 
 throwing into the water a bait on a line, with a 
 small piece of lead to sink it, lifting it up from time 
 to time, and dropping it again. Eels are thus 
 taken in the fens, and crabs on the sea-coast. It 
 is the same as bob, which in T. j. is defined " a term 
 in angling." Our bobbing differs from angling. 
 Neither floats, pole, nor hook are necessary to it, 
 though one or more of them are occasionally used. 
 
 BAB, s. the bait used for fishing in this manner, which 
 usually is made of large worms, strung together, 
 and tied in a bunch. 
 
 BABS, s. p. small prints to amuse children. Qu.
 
 12 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 babes ? Skinner has baberies in the same sense. 
 
 Our word seems to be contracted. " A penn'orth 
 
 of babs" contains considerable variety of birds, 
 
 beasts, &c. 
 
 BADGET, 5. a badger. 
 BADLY, adv. in ill health. Sometimes sadly-badly. 
 
 PR. and sometimes sad-bad. BAD, adv. JUN. BR. 
 BAFFLE, v . 
 
 1. To gull, to cheat, or make a fool of. In SH. it is ap- 
 plied to the tricks played on Malvolio in " Twelfth 
 Night." 
 
 2. To manage capriciously or wantonly, as in the case 
 of children or cattle. Ex. " He was sadly baffled 
 in his bringing up." 
 
 3. To beat and twist irregularly together, as " grow- 
 ing corn or grass is baffled by wind and rain." 
 
 The derivation offered in x. j. for the word in the 
 
 senses there given, seems to suit ours also. 
 Fr. en bas fouler. 
 
 BAG, s. the dug of a cow. 
 
 BAIL, s. the handle of a pail, bucket, or kettle. 
 Hence the sailor's term, "to bale out." Also the 
 bow of a scythe. Fr. battler. 
 
 BAIN, adj. pliant, limber. In R. N. c. " willing, for- 
 ward," which are connected meanings. In w. c. 
 "near, convenient," which brings it to our GAIN, 
 q. v. Isl. beina, expedire. BR. w. w. R. w. c. 
 
 BALDER, v. to use coarse language. A. s. bald, 
 audax, comp. deg. baldor. 
 
 BALDERDASH, s. not "frothy and confused" as 
 the DICTT. have it, but filthy or obscene talk. 
 
 BALK, s. There is some difficulty in determining
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 13 
 
 on the admission of this word ; some of its senses 
 being recognized by the DJCTT. and in general use, 
 others either peculiar to us, or common to ours 
 with some other provincial dialects. As there are, 
 however, connecting links between all the senses, 
 it seems best to state them all. 
 
 1. A ridge of land left unploughed, to serve as a 
 boundary, either between two contiguous occupa- 
 tions, or two divisions of the same farm, in an 
 uninclosed cornfield. V. MEREBALK. E. s. E. c. x. 
 
 2. A ridge so left in the body of the land, at certain 
 intervals, in a particular mode of ploughing called 
 balk-ploughing. The ridge, J UN. observes, is " tigni 
 instar." 
 
 3. A beam in a building, supporting an upper floor 
 or roof; or, indeed, it may be applied in general 
 to any piece of timber, squared, and made ready 
 for that, or any other purpose in building. A. s. 
 bale, lignum. CH. B. G, 
 
 4-. The failure of an expectation. Metaph. from the 
 slipping of the plough over the parts which it 
 seemed to be approaching, but leaves untouched. 
 
 5. A simple piece of machinery used in the dairy- 
 districts of the county of Suffolk, into which the 
 cow's head is put while she is milked. It allows 
 her to move her head freely up and down, but 
 when she attempts to withdraw it, she finds her- 
 self balked, and that she must stand still till the 
 dairy- maid dismisses her. M, s. 
 
 6. Straight young trees after they are felled ; but 
 before they are hewn, it should seem, for then they 
 they would become balks in the third sense. M. s. 
 
 VOL. i. C
 
 14 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 BALKER, 5. a great beam. An augm. of Balk. SK. 
 
 has bulkar, which he assigns to Lincolnshire, and 
 
 derives, perhaps rightly, from Dan. pi. n. ofbielke, 
 
 trabs. 
 BAMBLE, v. to shamble, to walk unsteadily and 
 
 weakly. Is it possible to trace it through the 
 
 feeble and unsteady gait of young children to Ital. 
 
 bambino ? 
 BAN, v. to curse. SH. " fell banning hag ! " Ex. 
 
 " Oh ! how she did ban and blast ! " 
 BANDY, s. 
 
 1. The curved stick with which the ball is struck at 
 sundry games. 
 
 2. Any game so played is called by the general name. 
 Some are distinguished by appropriate additions. 
 
 3. A hare, from the curvature of her hind legs. 
 BANDY-HOSHOE, s. a game at ball played with a 
 
 bandy either made of some very tough wood, or 
 shod with metal, or with the point of the horn or 
 the hoof of some animal. The ball is a knob or 
 gnarl from the trunk of a tree, carefully formed 
 into a globular shape. The adverse parties strive 
 to beat it with their bandies, through one or other 
 of the goals placed at proper distances. It is 
 probably named from the supposed resemblance 
 of the lower end of the bandy, in strength or cur- 
 vature, to a horse-shoe ; or it may be so called 
 from being shod, as it were, with horn or hoof. 
 In particular, the empty hoof of a sheep or calf, 
 which is frequently used, may be well assimilated 
 to a shoe. 
 
 BANDY- WICKET, s. the game of cricket. Of the 
 several games at ball played with a bandy, that
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 15 
 
 in which a ball is aimed by one player at a wicket, 
 defended by the adversary with his bandy, must 
 be allowed to be very appropriately called bandy- 
 ixicket. 
 
 BANG, s. cheese made, in Suffolk, of milk, several 
 times skimmed ; therefore very hard and tough, 
 and with which a hard knock or bang might be 
 given. For the same reason it is otherwise called 
 Suffolk Thump. Or it may have obtained both 
 those names from another circumstance, that when 
 it is dry, knock as hard as you will, you can make 
 no impression on it. 
 
 BANGING, adj. huge; beating or excelling in size 
 other things of the same kind. BR. 
 
 DANGLED, part, when cocked hats were worn, one 
 of the sides was sometimes let down to protect the 
 face of the wearer. The hat was said to be bangled. 
 It is even now said of a round hat with a broad and 
 loose brim, such as is worn by Quakers, or of late 
 by dandies. The same name is also applied to 
 the young shoots, or more particularly the broad 
 leaves of plants, when they droop under heavy 
 rain or strong sun-shine. Teut. abbangen, depen- 
 dere. SK. 
 
 BARGAIN, s. an indefinite number or quantity of 
 any thing ; not necessarily conveying the idea of 
 purchase and sale. Ex. " Two good tidy bargains 
 of hay from an acre," meaning something less 
 than waggon loads. " A poor bargain of wool 
 from three score hoggets." "A sad bargain of 
 lazy chaps." 
 
 BARGOOD, s. yeast; the good of the beer; the
 
 16 
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 flower or cream of it. It is sometimes corrupted 
 into burgood, and even bulgood. But may not 
 bar good be from c. BR. bragod or bragot, a sort 
 of country drink in Wales, mentioned by Lloyd in 
 Ray ? It was composed of wort and honey. 
 
 BARK, s. the tartar deposited by bottled wine or 
 other liquor, encrusting the bottle. 
 
 BARLEY-BIRD, s. the nightingale, which comes 
 to us in the season of sowing barley. To lovers 
 of natural history, it is highly interesting and 
 amusing to mark the coincidences of the arrival 
 or departure of migratory birds with the germina- 
 tion, foliation, inflorescence, or maturation of vege- 
 tables. It may even be made useful to some pur- 
 poses of husbandry. This name of the " sweet 
 bird " of night could have originated only in such a 
 habit of observation. And among whom ? Even 
 simple rustics ! For neither gentlefolks nor per- 
 sons of science were ever known to call the night- 
 ingale the Barley-bird. 
 
 BARLEY-MUNG, s. barley meal mixed with water or 
 milk, to fatten fowls or pigs. 
 
 BARN, v. to lay up in a barn. Ex. " I shall stack 
 some of that wheat, and barn the rest." 
 
 BARNACLES, s. pi. spectacles; which, before the 
 invention of springs, were made to keep their pro- 
 per position before the eyes by simply pinching the 
 nose, like the instrument used by farriers to make a 
 horse stand still, and commonly called barnacles. 
 The word was certainly in use 200 years ago. 
 
 BARROW-PIG, s. the least pig of the litter. The 
 pitman has the same meaning, and perhaps is more
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 17 
 
 general. In JEN. a barrotv-pig is a gelded pig. In 
 x. j. barrow is made synonymous with hog, and a 
 passage from one of Milton's controversial tracts is 
 quoted as authority. But this affords no proof that 
 Milton thought the two words exactly equivalent. 
 It might have been quite enough to call his adver- 
 sary hog; but the great poet's virulence and acri- 
 mony on such occasions are sufficiently notorious ; 
 and he might mean to apply the most insulting and 
 degrading term, applicable only to the lowest of 
 the whole swinish race. However this may be, it 
 is certainly from A. s. berg, porcus. 
 
 BARSELE, BARKSELE, s. the season of stripping 
 bark. 
 
 BARLEY-SELE, s. the season of sowing barley. A. s. 
 seel, opportunitas. 
 
 EARTH. 5. a shelter for cattle, &c. Seamen give the 
 name of berth to a snug place for themselves, their 
 vessel, or their cargo. Between the sound of the 
 two words there is little or nothing to choose in the 
 mouth of an East- Angle. Barth, however, is the 
 right word ; it is from bar, implying separation, or 
 inclosure. 
 
 BARTON, s. Spelman's account of this word is short 
 and perfectly clear. It was the demesne land of the 
 lord of a manor j not let out on lease, either of 
 years or lives, but held by the lord, in his own 
 hands, for the sustenance of his household. The 
 signification of the word has been reduced from a 
 part of a manor to a part of a farm ; to a farm-yard, 
 a rick-yard, or even a poultry -yard. In this sense 
 it occurs in some DICTT. and is said to be still in use 
 c3
 
 18 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 in the Northern and Western counties. On the 
 other hand, it has been extended from being the 
 appellative of the Lord's own occupation to be the 
 proper name of a whole manor, or even of a parish, 
 containing more than one manor. There are pa- 
 rishes of this name in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cam- 
 bridgeshire. It cannot be improper to record here 
 one East- Anglian instance (and there may be more) 
 of the modern existence of the word, nearly, if not 
 precisely, in its original and peculiar sense. Be- 
 hind the episcopal palace and gardens at Ely, and 
 separated from them only by a public highway, is 
 a farm called Barton, which has been so called as 
 far back as can be traced by records. There is no 
 village, hamlet, or messuage upon it, nor any re- 
 cord or tradition of them, but the lands only, and 
 the buildings necessary to the cultivation of them. 
 From this proximity, there is full reason to con- 
 clude that this was the demesne land, on the pro- 
 duce of which the households of the ancient Bi- 
 shops were maintained, while that system prevailed. 
 Since it ceased, the land has been held, and is still 
 held, of the See, under its original name, by a se- 
 ries of leases for four lives. 
 BASKING, *. 
 
 1. A drenching in a heavy shower. 
 
 2. A sound drubbing. 
 
 In the first sense, it is commonly said that a man 
 gets a wet jacket ; in the second, that his jacket 
 has been well laced, or trimmed. Our word may 
 therefore be very well derived from O. Fr. basque, 
 a shirt, or flap of a doublet. 
 BATCH, s. a bout ; as of drinking, card-playing, & c.
 
 EAST-ANGLIA. 1 
 
 Properly it means a quantity of bread, or other 
 things, baked at the same time. This is a dictionary 
 sense. Our large metaphorical sense is probably 
 not peculiar to us. 
 
 BATTEN, s. a rail from three to six inches in breadth, 
 one or more in thickness, and of indefinite length. 
 Dr. Johnson says it is a word used only by work- 
 men. With us it is used by anybody. 
 
 BATTEN-FENCE, s. a fence made by two or three 
 battens, one above another, nailed to posts at pro- 
 per distances. 
 
 BATTLINGS, s. pi. toppings and loppings of trees. 
 An unhewn rail is also called a battling. This and 
 the foregoing are from A. s. bat, fustis. 
 
 BAUBERY, BOBBERY, s. a squabble, a brawl. Fr. 
 baube. 
 
 BAVIN, s. a light, loose faggot. SH. speaks of 
 
 " Rash, bavin wits, 
 
 Soon kindled, and soon burnt." HEN. IV. 
 
 Neither Johnson nor his last Editor makes any 
 thing of the derivation. V. GAVIN and GAVEL. 
 
 BAVISH, v. to drive away. Corruption of banish. 
 
 BAWND, part, swollen. Not in present use ; at least, 
 not known to be so. Isl. bon, tumidus. Sir Thomas 
 Browne. R. N c. 
 
 BAY, s. 
 
 1. The space in a building between two main 
 beams. We speak of a barn, or a cartlodge, of so 
 many bays. Sometimes, but not so correctly, the 
 whole space between the threshing-floor and the 
 end of the barn is so called. SH. applies the word 
 to a house. In " Measure for Measure" the clown 
 talks of houses being let at so much a bay.
 
 SO VOCABULARY Of 
 
 2. The nest of a squirrel. 
 
 BAY-DUCK, s. the shell-duck ; from its bright colour, 
 like that of a lay horse. 
 
 BEAKER, s. a drinking-glass. The definition of 
 this word in T. j. is at least vague : " a vessel for 
 drink, a flaggon." That given by Dr. Johnson 
 himself seems purely fanciful : " a cup with a spout 
 in the form of a bird's beak" In our use it is 
 simply and solely a glass for the table. The bicker 
 of Scotland, and of the Northern Borders, accord- 
 ing to JAM. and BE* is a wooden dish, or bowl, of 
 greater capacity, and used for other purposes. 
 The latter, indeed, gives beaker also, very indefi- 
 nitely, as " a tumbler, or any thing large." Ours 
 is a definite and invariable sense, and likely to be 
 the true one. Our homely ancestors quaffed their 
 ale from wooden cups, which retain their name, 
 now they have outgrown it by the general substi- 
 tution of glass for wood. The word would be bet- 
 ter spelled becher, or beker, from A. s. bece, fagus. 
 
 BEAR, v. Phr. " to bear a bob ;" to make one among 
 many ; to lend a helping hand, at the risque, as it 
 should seem, of receiving a bob, or blow. Origi- 
 nally, perhaps, it meant joining a party in some 
 sport ; the antient quintaine, for instance, in which 
 the players were very likely to have a bob to bear, 
 and a pretty severe one too. Or it might originate 
 in the steeple. Among their terms of art, ringers 
 have several sorts of bob, all of course, involving 
 the idea of a blow. 
 
 BEARN, s. a barn. In this instance we retain the 
 exact A, s. bcern, horreum.
 
 EAST-ANGLIA. 21 
 
 BEAST, s. an animal of the beeve kind in a fatting 
 state. This word, like sheep, is the same in the 
 plural as in the singular number. A farmer has 
 so many sheep, so many beast, steers, buds, wennels, 
 &c. 
 
 BEASTLINGS, s. pi. the first milk drawn after the 
 cow has calved. GR. v. D. Proper food for the 
 little beast. A beastling pudding is thought superior 
 to one made of common milk. BR. 
 
 BEAT, v. to repair, to supply the gradual waste of 
 any thing. We seem to apply it only to mending 
 the broken meshes of a net. To " beet the fire" 
 means in the North to supply it with fuel. This 
 may be the better speaking. A. s. betan, restau- 
 rare. BR. w. c. 
 
 BECK, s. a brook or rivulet. A. s. bece, rivulus. GR. 
 v. D. o. E. 
 
 BED, s. 
 
 1. the uterus of an animal. 
 
 2. A fleshy piece of beef cut from the upper part 
 of the leg and bottom of the belly. 
 
 The first sense is illustrated at least by A. s. name 
 for the womb cylde-hama, q. d. the child's home. 
 
 BED- FAGGOT, s. a contemptuous name for a bed- 
 fellow, as it were, a wretched substitute, no better 
 than a faggot in the muster of a regiment. 
 
 BEE-BREAD, s. a brownish opake substance, with 
 which some of the cells in a honey-comb are filled, 
 for the food of the insect in its larva state. Jamie- 
 son says it goes to the formation of bees. That 
 eminent lexicographer may be excused for being 
 no entomologist. A. s. beo-bread, favus. 
 
 BEE-DROVE, s. a great confluence of men, or of any
 
 *2 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 other creatures ; as it were, a swarm of them. But 
 drove is a strangely absurd synonym for swarm. It 
 may be remarked, however, that Cowley uses the 
 word drove for a flight of birds. 
 
 BEGGAR'S VELVET, s. the lightest particles of 
 down shaken from a feather-bed, and left by a 
 sluttish housemaid to collect under the bed till it 
 covers the floor for want of due sweeping, and she 
 gets a scolding from her dame. 
 
 BEGGARY, s. the copious and various growth of 
 weeds in the " field of the slothful ;" the " urenda 
 filix" of neglected lands ; the very best are apt to 
 be overrun with beggary for lack of sufficient 
 ploughing, hoeing, and hand-weeding. 
 
 BEGONE, part, decayed, worn out. GR. Norf. & 
 SufF. Sufficiently recognized in the o. E. word 
 tuoe-begonC) q. d. wasted with misery. 
 
 BEING, s. an abode, particularly a lodging. A. s. 
 byan, habitare. 
 
 BEING, part. We have a particular use of this word, 
 much like the construction of the ablative absolute 
 in Latin, when the substantive is represented by a 
 clause of the sentence. Ex. "I could not meet 
 you yesterday, being I was ill a-bed. " 
 
 BELIKE, adv. 
 
 1. Likely; L. sc. 
 
 2. As it is said. 
 
 To speak accurately, this word, in the first sense, must 
 lead in the sentence, and be followed by the poten- 
 tial form of a verb. Ex. " Belike we may have snow 
 to-night." In the second sense it must follow, and 
 the verb must be indicative. Ex. " I hear Mr. A. 
 is to be married to Miss B." " Aye, so belike.' 1
 
 EAST AXGLIA. 23 
 
 BELLIBORION, s. a variety of apple. It is certainly 
 a fine sonorous corruption of Fr. belle et bonne. 
 
 BELSIZE, adj. bulky, of goodly size. 
 
 BELL-SOLLER, s. the loft on which ringers stand. 
 Chaucer has solere, apparently in a like sense. 
 
 BEN-JOLTRAM, s. brown bread soaked in skimmed 
 milk ; the plough-boy's usual breakfast, served in 
 a capacious wooden bowl. It may, perhaps, be 
 mere farm-house slang. Yet, as there must be 
 some ground even for the most licentious and ar- 
 bitrary fabrications, we may be allowed to imagine 
 one in this case ; and it might not be altogether 
 absurd to conjecture, that in the first part of this 
 strange word an obscure allusion is intended to 
 Benjamin s seven-fold mess ; and that the latter 
 part was meant to express thejoltering (q. d.jolt- 
 ing) of the flatulent mixture in the stomach of the 
 young rustic, when he resumes his labour in the 
 field, after swallowing it. 
 
 BENTS, s. pi. dry stalks of grass remaining in pas- 
 tures after summer feeding. BENNET. .TUN. Teut. 
 bintz, juncus. SK. 
 
 BESS O' BEDLAM, s. a sort of vagrant very com- 
 mon in this country thirty or forty years ago ; but 
 now very nearly, if not quite, extinct ; either from 
 the greater efficiency of the Vagrant Laws, the 
 stricter administration of them, or the diminished 
 credulity of the public. They were wont to an- 
 nounce themselves as inmates of Bedlam, allowed 
 in some lucid interval to range the country, and 
 return at a stated time to their confinement. They 
 talked in a wild incoherent manner, were great
 
 24 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 annoyances to every body, objects of great terror 
 to many, and, from the general wish to be rid of 
 them as soon as possible, were likely to collect 
 considerable contributions. They were in exis- 
 tence in Shakspeare's time, who speaks of" Bedlam 
 beggars with their roaring voices." The name is 
 not yet obsolete. Any female maniac, or any 
 whose dress, manners, and language, are wild, dis- 
 orderly, and incoherent, is still called a Bess o' 
 Bedlam. V. TOM o' BEDLAM. 
 BESTOW, . 
 
 1. To deliver a woman. To " put her to bed" has the 
 same import. 
 
 2. To lay up, to put out of the way. It is equivalent 
 to the seaman's phrase, "to &toia away." o. E. B. TR. 
 " to bestow my goods." 
 
 BETWIXT and BETWEEN, adv. exactly in the 
 middle point. 
 
 BEVIL, s. a slope, or declivity. Ex. "The road is 
 laid on a bevil, i. e. highest in the middle." The 
 word occurs in DICTT. as only used in architecture. 
 
 BEVILING, adj. having such a declivity. 
 
 BEZZLE, v. when the edge of a tool is blunted or 
 turned in the process of whetting or grinding, it is 
 said to be bezzled. 
 
 BIBBLE, v. to eat like a duck, gathering its food from 
 water, and taking up both together. A dim of bib, 
 and that doubtless from Lat. bibo. It means, also, 
 to tipple. JEN. Bib is o. E. " a wine-bibber." 
 
 BIDE-OWE, w. interpreted by Ray (Pr. to N. c.) 
 "pcenas dare" It may be so. It is impossible to 
 assent or gainsay, as it is totally extinct. It is one 
 of Sir Thomas Browne's words.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 25 
 
 BIGG, s. a species of barley ; called also barley-big. 
 It is hordeum hexastichon, Lin. It is a good deal 
 cultivated in the fenny districts of Norfolk, and the 
 Isle of Ely. It yields and grinds well, but will not 
 malt. The Scotch big, according to JAM. is hord. 
 tetrastichon, Lin. Isl. bigg, hordeum. 
 
 BIGHES, s. pi. jewels, female ornaments, o. E. We 
 use it in a figurative sense. Ex. " She is all in her 
 bighes to-day," q. d. best humour, best graces, &c. 
 
 BILLY-WIX, s. an owl. 
 
 BING, s. a bin for corn, flour, wine, &c. The proper 
 word. Dan. bing, cumulus. 
 
 BIRD OF THE EYE, s. the pupil, or rather, perhaps, 
 the little refracted image on the retina, or that of 
 a very near spectator reflected from the cornea. 
 In many languages there seems to be some delicate 
 or endearing term of this kind. The Greeks call it 
 Kopa, or Trapflevos, the girl or virgin ; and our an- 
 cestors talked of the " baby in the eye." In Latin 
 it is pupilla. R. s. E. c. 
 
 BIRTLE, adj. brittle. These metathetical changes 
 are, perhaps, scarcely worth notice. 
 
 BISHOP, v. to confirm. Chiefly used in the part. pass, 
 and so it was in the Saxon. A. s. biscopod, confir- 
 matus. 
 
 BISHOP-BARNABEE, s. the pretty insect more 
 generally called the Lady-bird, or May-bug, Coc- 
 cinella septem punctata, Lin. It is one of those few 
 highly favoured among God's harmless creatures, 
 which superstition protects from wanton injury. 
 Some obscurity seems to hang over this popular 
 name of it. It has certainly no more relation to the 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 26 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 companion of St. Paul than to drunken Barnaby ; 
 though some seem to have supposed it has. It is 
 sometimes called Bishop Benebee, which may pos- 
 sibly have been intended to mean the blessed bee ; 
 sometimes Bishop Benetree, of which it seems not 
 possible to make any thing. The name has most 
 probably been derived from the Barn-Bishop; 
 whether in scorn of that silly and profane mockery, 
 or in pious commemoration of it, must depend on 
 the time of its adoption, before or since the Refor- 
 mation ; and it is not worth inquiring. The two 
 words are transposed, and bee annexed, as being 
 perhaps thought more seemly in such a connexion 
 than fly, bug, or beetle. The dignified ecclesias- 
 tics in ancient times wore brilliant mixtures of 
 colours in their habits. Bishops had scarlet and 
 black, as this insect has on its wing-covers. Some 
 remains of the finery of the gravest personages still 
 exist in our academical robes of ceremony. There 
 is something inconsistent with the popish episco- 
 pal character in the childish rhyme with which 
 Bishop Barnabee is thrown up and dismissed when 
 he happens to light on any one's hand. Un- 
 luckily the words are not recollected, nor at pre- 
 sent recoverable. But the purport of them is to 
 admonish him to fly home, and take care of his 
 wife and children, for that his house is on fire. 
 Perhaps, indeed, the rhyme has been fabricated 
 long since the name, by some one who did not think 
 of such niceties. 
 
 BITCH, s. a trull ; the female companion of a vagrant. 
 Kay has a "tinker's bitch." Our tinkers do not
 
 EAST ANGLIA, 27 
 
 keep bitches but trulls. The fiddling vagabond, 
 with us, is the only one who has such an establish- 
 ment ; and we found upon it an extremely coarse 
 and offensive comparison, '' as drunk as a fiddler's 
 bitch:' 
 
 BLACK-SAP, s. the jaundice in a very advanced 
 state. 
 
 BLAME, u. a very decent and commendable evasion 
 of the horrible word damn. Ex. " Blame me," or 
 " 1 will be blamed, if," &c. It is to be observed, 
 however, that the use of it is altogether selfish ; 
 cpnfined to the first person singular. Nobody 
 ever heard so mild an imprecation as "blame you 
 for a rascal," or, "John Smith be blamed for a fool." 
 
 BLAR, BLARE, v. It may seem an unnecessary ex- 
 actness to point out any difference in the appli- 
 cation of these words. Correct speakers, how- 
 ever, with very nice ears, will apply them differ- 
 ently, according to the sharpness or flatness of the 
 tone. It is enough to say that calves, sheep, asses, 
 and children, all blar, or blare in their several natu- 
 ral modes. BR. Belg. blaren, mugire. 
 
 BLAUNCH, s. a blain. 
 
 BLAUTHY, adj. bloated. From blow came blowth, 
 a word used in o. E. for bloom. From blaw, another 
 form of the same verb (still used in L. sc.) would 
 come blawtk, and thence our adjective. 
 
 BLEE, s. general resemblance, not " colour and 
 complexion/' as the DICTT. give it ; and as might 
 seem to result from its derivation. Mr. Nares 
 asserts that it was obsolete in the reign of Queen 
 Elizabeth. If so, we have a very extraordinary
 
 28 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 instance of the renascence of a word ; for it is in 
 use among us every day in the sense here given to 
 it. Ex. That boy has a strong blee of his father." 
 BR. in the sense of complexion. CH. p. G. 
 BLEEK, adj. 
 
 1. Pale, sickly. 
 
 2. Sheepish. A. s. blcece, pallor. 
 
 BLIND, adj. abortive. When blossoms fade away 
 without forming the fruit, we say they are blind. 
 It seems to be particularly said of strawberries, and 
 other small summer fruits. The process of vege- 
 tation is stopped. It should rather be considered 
 as a participle from the Saxon verb blinan ; an 
 English verb bline would come quite regularly ; 
 the part. pass, of which would be blined. A. s. 
 blinan, cessare. 
 
 BLIND-SIM, BLIND-HOB, s. the game of blind- 
 man's buff. The unfortunate wight whose lot it is 
 to be hood-winked, and who is thumped and 
 punched by the other players, bears the contemp- 
 tuous name of a coarse clown j to make fun for the 
 company, as in a pantomime. 
 
 BLINKED-BEER, s. Skinner, and after him others, 
 say that sour beer is so called. It may be so, but 
 not by us. The beer which we called blinked, has 
 no acidity, but an ill flavour peculiar to itself; said 
 to be occasioned by too long delay of fermentation, 
 until the wort is too cool to ferment with proper 
 activity. Others account for it from insufficient 
 stirring of the mash, so as not to wet all the malt. In 
 either case carelessness or laziness is implied. 
 Either reason, therefore, agrees better with Skin- 
 ner's etymology than our own, according to which
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 29 
 
 the liquor is intended to be sour. Blinked-beer 
 will of course have a great tendency to turn sour ; 
 but certainly in our usage is blinked before it is 
 sour. A. s. blinan, cessare. In L. sc. beer is said 
 to be blinked when it is turned become subacid. 
 
 BLOB, s. a small lump of any thing thick, viscid, or 
 dirty, as of tallow, dregs of ink, &c. JAM. says, 
 it is "anything tumid, and circular." An aug- 
 mentative, or intensive of bleb, by means of the 
 broader vowel. It affords some expressive com- 
 pounds. An ugly fellow has blob-lips or a blob" 
 nose ; and if what ought to be pointed is blunt and 
 round at the end, as a pen, a pencil, an awl, or a 
 nail, it is said to be blob-ended. 
 
 BLOCK-HORSE, s. a strong wooden frame with four 
 handles, commonly called a hand-barrow, for the 
 purpose of carrying blocks. 
 
 BLOOD-FALLEN, part, chill-blained. 
 
 BLGOD-OLPH. s. the bull-finch. The first part of 
 the name is from the colour of its breast and belly. 
 We have neither alp nor nope; but our name is 
 probably a variation of the former. We call the 
 Green-finch the Green-olph. q. v. 
 
 BLORE, v. to bellow like a bull. Intens. of blare. 
 
 BLOUZE, *. 
 
 1. A woman with hair or head-dress loose and dis- 
 ordered, or decorated with vulgar finery. Whe- 
 ther she be " ruddy and fat-faced," or at all "like 
 a blossom," is nothing to us, though she is so re- 
 presented in T. J. 
 
 2. A woman's bonnet; most properly that sort which 
 is otherwise called a slouch. But it seems to be 
 
 D 3
 
 30 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 applied to bonnets of all shapes, fashions, and di- 
 mensions, from the bee-hive to the crow's nest. 
 Ex. ft I will just slip on my blouze, and go with 
 you directly." 
 
 BLOUZY, adj. tricked out in flaring finery, loosely 
 and carelessly disposed. It is not at all necessary 
 that the fair one should be " sun-burnt and high- 
 coloured," the only characteristics mentioned in 
 T. J. Our senses both of subst. and adj. suffi- 
 ciently illustrate the passages cited. 
 
 BLOW, s. blossoms. The DICTT. give the verb, but 
 not the subst. We use the word collectively. Ex. 
 " There is a fine blotv of apples this year." BR. 
 
 BLOWN-HERRING, s. a herring slightly cured for 
 speedy use, and home consumption. Those which 
 are intended for exportation, or long keeping, 
 undergo the operation of three successive fires, 
 each kept up for about twenty-four hours. In- 
 tervals of two or three days are allowed between 
 the smokings, in which the fat of the fish is drained 
 away. The blown fish are smoked but once. 
 That process has the effect of plumping them, 
 without discharging the fatj somewhat like the 
 baking or roasting of apples. In this state of su- 
 perior richness and flavour, they will not bear 
 long keeping. On some parts of our coasts a 
 blown-herring is called atotv-botven. Why ? They 
 are also called bloaters, but we do not acknow- 
 ledge the word. 
 
 BLUBBER, 5. a bubble, from blob. L. sc. 
 
 BLUBBER-GRASS, s. different species of bromus, 
 from their soft inflated glumes ; in particular 
 mollis, which infests barren pastures.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 31 
 
 BLUTHER, s. 
 
 1. To blot in writing. 
 
 2. To disfigure the face with weeping. 
 
 Sui. G. plattra, incuriose scribere. L. sc. JAM. 
 BOAR-THISTLE, s. the Carduus lanceolatus, Lin. 
 BOARD-CLOTH, s. a table-cloth. In o. E. the table 
 
 was called the board, not only poetically, as it still 
 
 is, but in common use. So it was in Saxon. A. s. 
 
 bord, mensa. L. sc. 
 BOB, v. to cheat, o. E. " the gold and jewels that I 
 
 bobb'd him of." 
 
 BOBBISH, adj. pretty good, somewhat clever. JEN. 
 BOBBISHLY, adv. pretty well, rather cleverly. These 
 
 words doubtless belong to the verb bob, of which 
 
 several ludicrous senses are to be found in DICTT. 
 
 o. FR. bobe, a joke or trick. 
 BODE, v. to board. Ex. " He bodes and lodges there." 
 
 A. s. bead, mensa. 
 BODE-CLOTH, s. a table-cloth. 
 BODGE, v. 
 
 1. To patch clumsily ; the same as botch. 
 
 2. To boggle, to fail. SH. 
 
 BODILY, adv. entirely ; in the whole mass ; all at 
 once. A wind-mill, a hay-barn, or other edifice 
 constructed in frame-work, without foundation, 
 may be removed bodily. 
 
 BOGG, adj. sturdy, self-sufficient, petulant. R. s. E. c. 
 Two etyma may be proposed. A. s. boga, ar- 
 cus. " Qui semper arcum tendit," is always ready 
 for attack or defence. Skinner spells it bug, which 
 he makes syn. with big, and derives from A. s. 
 luc, or Dan. bug, veuter, as it were confidently 
 strutting, "protenso sesquipede."
 
 32 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 BOIST, s. a swelling. The adjective Loistous, regu- 
 larly formed from this word, is used both by Wick- 
 liffe and Chaucer, in the modern sense of boisterous. 
 This seems to be one of the very few words of the 
 ancient British language, which are be found in 
 our's, at least in the eastern dialects of it. 
 
 BOKE, s. bulk. Ex. " there is more loke than corn 
 in that goaf." It is in R. N. c. Pegge spells it booke, 
 and assigns it to us. Bulk, bolk, boke, booke run easily 
 enough into each other. BR. CR. It is surely bolk. 
 
 BOKE, i). to nauseate, to be ready to vomit. L. sc. 
 bolk. A. s. bealcan, ructare. It is, in fact, intens. 
 of belch, w. w. R. BR. 
 
 BOKE-OUT, v. to swell out, to gain bulk and promi- 
 nence, w. c. " to thrust or poke out." 
 
 BOLT, v. to swallow food without chewing. A sense 
 not given in DIGIT, but connected with others by 
 the idea of haste. 
 
 BOMBAZE, v. to confound, bewilder, perplex ; as 
 if a veil were thrown before the eyes, to hinder one 
 from seeing what he is about. Ex. if I am right 
 on bombazed," i. e. by the communication of some 
 unexpected news, or the proposal of some puzzling 
 question. It is certainly connected with the word 
 bombazine, but not in its modern sense. Anciently 
 it meant a fine web of cotton. This may be enough 
 to prove our word o. E. 
 
 BONE-DRY, adj. perfectly dry ; as dry as a bone 
 long bleached in the weather. 
 
 BONE-LAZY, BONE-SORE, BONE-TIRED, adj. 
 so lazy, sore, or tired, that the laziness, the sore- 
 ness, or the fatigue, seem to have penetrated the 
 very bones. These compound epithets are cer-
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 33 
 
 tainly very expressive. The only objection to 
 which they can be liable, seems to be, that they 
 " may be thought by some too poetical for com- 
 mon familiar language. 
 
 BONNY, adj. brisk, cheerful, in good health, and spi- 
 rits. So the word is not, as Dr. Johnson supposes, 
 confined to the L. sc. We do not indeed include 
 in it the idea of " comeliness." 
 
 BOOBY-HUTCH,5. a clumsy and ill-contrived covered 
 carriage, or seat. 
 
 BOP, v. to dip, or duck suddenly. There are several 
 other words of like formation, in more or less 
 general use, for sudden, quick, and short motion, 
 and formed to be expressive of it ; such are bob) 
 pop, dop, dob. The dob-chick must have been so 
 called from its instantaneous disappearance. 
 
 BORH, BOR, s. a term of very familiar address, ge- 
 nerally understood to be a coarse pronunciation of 
 the word boy. A different account of it is proposed 
 with some confidence. If boy is actually sometimes 
 pronounced as if it were spelled baw, it is the sole 
 instance of our so perverting the power of the 
 diphthong oy ; we either pronounce it as others 
 do, or we narrow it to long i ; we never call joy 
 jaw, nor a toy a taw ; we do not talk of emplawlng 
 or destraw'mg, but of emptying or destrt/'mg. This 
 one seeming instance of such perversion is there- 
 fore likely to have arisen from our not under- 
 standing the term we use; besides, it may be 
 remarked, that this word is applied indiscriminately 
 to persons of both sexes and of all ages ; and though 
 it may be common for elderly people to address as
 
 34 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 boys those who are much their juniors, or if they 
 have been long intimate, to call each other in 
 jocular familiarity old boys ; or if old men, affect- 
 ing juvenile airs, be so called, yet it would surely 
 be too absurd for old women to give to each other 
 the appellation of boy. Now among so many traces 
 as we have of Saxon antiquity, so many instances 
 of Saxon words traditionally retained in their 
 original form and use, it cannot be extravagant to 
 conjecture that the word is, in fact, bor, and di- 
 rectly refers to the well-known frame of Saxon 
 society, in which those who constituted every little 
 community, or township (borg), were mutually 
 and formally bound by law to and for each other, 
 under a petty local magistrate, or conservator of 
 the peace, called the borsholder, i. e. the bors older, 
 or elder. This official title still exists in some dis- 
 tricts. The word under our consideration would 
 thus signify townsman, neighbour, sworn friend, 
 &c., much in the same way as our seamen call 
 each other messmate, and our soldiers comrade. 
 It is to be observed that it is actually a part of the 
 word neighbour (A. s. neah, prope, andiorA) ; and 
 why may it not exist in the simple as well as in a 
 compound form ? If this explanation be admitted, 
 one old woman may, without absurdity, say to an- 
 other (as often happens), " Co' lor, let's go a 
 sticking in the 'Squire's plantations." And the 
 other may answer, " Aye, bor, so we will." 
 BOSH, s. To " cut a bosh," is something stronger than 
 the more usual expression to " cut a dash ; " some- 
 thing more shewy and expansive. " Bosen out,"
 
 EAST-ANGLIA. 35 
 
 is rendered by the Latin tumidus in PR. PA. Fr. 
 bosse. 
 
 BOSS, s. a hod for mortar, carried on the shoulders 
 like a hump. 
 
 BOSSOCH, v. to toss and tumble clumsily, as it were, 
 to throw all the limbs together into one heap. 
 
 BOTTLE, s. 
 
 1. " A quantity of hay or grass bundled up." JOHNS. 
 This is very indistinct. " A truss of hay." NARES. 
 This is positively wrong. By a " bottle of 
 hay" is now understood such a moderate bundle 
 as may serve for one feed, twisted somewhat into 
 the shape of a bottle. It had probably always 
 the same meaning. In Shakspeare's time it cer- 
 tainly had. When Bottom, in Mids. Night's Dr. (the 
 passage cited both in T. j. and N. G.), expresses 
 his anxious craving for a " bottle of hay," he 
 plainly means enough to make a meal on. To 
 wish for a whole truss would be as extravagant and 
 unnatural, as for a hungry man to wish for a 
 quarter of mutton for his dinner. Mr. N. is again 
 mistaken in supposing this phrase to be no longer 
 in use but in the proverbial saying of " looking for 
 a needle in a bottle of hay," which he conceives 
 that few people understand. East-Angles all un- 
 derstand it perfectly, and use the word bottle. 
 currently. 
 
 2. We have also, or had within living memory, 
 barley-bottles. These were little bundles of barley 
 in the straw, given to farm-horses. This wasteful 
 mode of giving feeds of corn, is probably now quite 
 disused. Oats are now produced where formerly 
 no spring-corn but barley was cultivated, and are
 
 36 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 the universal food of horses. In some years of 
 very high price barley has been substituted, be- 
 cause a less quantity is thought to suffice. But 
 then it was cut in the straw, given in that form, 
 and eaten up clean. After all it is possible that 
 barley-bottles may still be given by some very old 
 fashioned farmers, who so much venerate the wis- 
 dom of their great-grandfathers, as to abhor and 
 abjure all innovations upon their practice, good or 
 bad. 
 
 3. The dug of a cow is called her bottle, as well as 
 her bag. 
 
 BOTTLE-BIRD, s. an apple rolled up and baked in 
 a crust, so called from its fancied resemblance to 
 birds nestling in those bottle-shaped receptacles, 
 placed for that purpose under the eaves of some 
 old buildings. 
 
 BOTTLE-BUMP, s. the bittern, anciently called 
 bittour, or buttour. Of this the first part of our 
 word is manifestly a corruption ; the last syllable 
 was formed from the dull hollow sound uttered by 
 the bird. SK. has butter-bump; so have we by 
 way of variety. In poetry this bird has been called 
 "booming bittern." Sump is much more expres- 
 sive of its sound. 
 
 BOTTLE-NOSE, s. the common porpoise. It is so 
 called by the sailors and fishermen at Cromer, and 
 probably every where else on our coasts. 
 
 BOUDS, s. pL weovils in malt. T. R. s. E. c. 
 
 BOUDY, adj. applied to malt infested with those in- 
 sects which give a nauseous taste to the beer 
 brewed from it. 
 
 . *
 
 EAST-ANGLIA. 37' 
 
 BOUGE, s. Phr. " To make a bouge ;" to commit a 
 gross blunder; to get a heavy fall by taking an 
 awkward false step. 
 
 BOUGE, v. to bulge or swell out. Fr. bouge. SK. 
 
 BOUT-HAMMER, s. the heavy two-handed hammer 
 used by blacksmiths. This word is not in the 
 DICTT. however common here and perhaps else- 
 where. 
 
 BOWRY, s. a bower or arbour. The word was an- 
 ciently written boivre, and signified a room, parti- 
 cularly a woman's apartment; and being liable to 
 become a diphthong in poetry (as shoivre does -in 
 the very first verse of the Canterbury Tales), has 
 been made permanently so with us in plain prose 
 and common talk. It is from A. s. bure, conclave. 
 
 BR ACKLY, adj. brittle. Particularly applied to stand- 
 ing corn, some ears of which are so quickly ripened 
 as to snap off short. M. s. 
 
 BRAID, v. A culinary term ; to beat and blend soft 
 substances or mixtures; particularly to press them 
 with a spoon through a colander or sieve. It may 
 possibly be another form of bray, to pound in a 
 mortar, but as it means no more than the gentle 
 pressure of what gives little or no resistance, it 
 seems better connected with BRED. q. v. 
 
 BRAKES, s.pl. fern. We use it in this sense only, 
 which Dr. Johns, says is the original sense ; giving 
 no etymon to prove it is so. Perhaps, what is 
 hinted, not formally offered, by SK. may serve our 
 purpose, " quia fragilis est." The ptesis aquilina, 
 Lin. which covers many acres of our sterile sandy 
 districts, and which we almost exclusively call 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 38 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 brakes (only occasionally including some other 
 ferns), is not very remarkable for its fragility; but 
 it may certainly be called fragile in comparison 
 with the " thorns and briars," placed in the DICTT. 
 among other senses of the word brake. Those 
 senses are numerous, and not a little confused. 
 Archdeacon Nares has reckoned up no fewer than 
 eight. We are concerned only with our own, 
 Bracken is exactly equivalent to brakes, being the 
 A. s. plural of brake or brak. 
 
 BRAIN-PAN, 5. the scull. It may seem intended 
 for a ludicrous figurative expression ; but is the 
 very word used by our Saxon ancestors to express 
 the cranium. A. s. panne, cranium. 
 
 BEAMISH, v. to flourish, gesticulate, and assume af- 
 fected airs. 
 
 BRAND, 5. the smut in wheat, making it look as if a 
 hot iron had passed over it. 
 
 BRAND-NEW, adj. new worked off, newly branded. 
 There is fire-new in CH. ; and, to increase the force 
 of the expression, we sometimes combine the two 
 phrases, and call a thing brand-Jire-ne'vo. 
 
 BRANDY, adj. affected with smut. A. s. bren, urere. 
 
 BRANK, s. buck-wheat ; polygonum fagopyrum, Lin . 
 
 T. R. S.E. C. 
 
 BRASH, 5. an acid and watery rising from the sto- 
 mach into the mouth. BR. 
 
 BRASHY, adj. applied to land, overgrown with faint 
 grass, rushes, or twigs. Teut. braasch, fragilis. 
 
 BRATTLE, v. to lop the branches of trees after they 
 are felled. 
 
 BRATTLINGS, s. pi. loppings from felled trees.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 39 
 
 BRAVELY, adv. very much recovered from sickness. 
 
 BRAWN, s. a boar. To call the living animal by the 
 name of his flesh when cut up and cured, was an. 
 ancient usage. We read of beefs, muttons, and 
 veals, in the accounts of ancient feasts in the 
 Northumberland Household-book, and other such 
 documents. Prince Hal. calls Falstaff " that old 
 Brawn." BR. 
 
 BRECK, s. a large division of an open corn-field, q. d. 
 break. Ray calls it land ploughed the first year 
 after it has lain fallow. It is certainly not so re- 
 stricted by us. R. s. E. c. 
 
 BRED, s. a board to press curd for cheese, somewhat 
 less in circumference than the vat. A. s. bredan, 
 stringere. The same name seems to have been 
 applied in o. E. to small boards used for other pur- 
 poses; the pax-bred for instance. The pax was 
 a representation of the crucifixion, presented in the 
 ceremony of the mass to be kissed by the faithful. 
 A silver plate was probably used, when it could be 
 afforded, and in default of it, aboard. Elisha Coles 
 calls it the pax-bread, and expresses it in Latin by 
 panis osculatorius, unfortunately confounding the 
 wood with the consecrated wafer. V. c. HAW. and 
 N. G. 
 
 BRED-SORE, BREEDER, s. a whitlow, or any sore 
 coming without wound, or other visible cause. 
 
 BRIEF, s. a general name for any written or printed 
 petition, or begging paper, of whatsoever descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 BRIG, s. a bridge ; pure Saxon. A. s. brigge, pons. BR.
 
 40 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 BRIM, *. 
 
 1. Commonly, but erroneously, supposed to be ano- 
 ther name for a boar. We say, indeed, the " sow 
 goes to brim;" but we never call the boar a brim. In 
 Cheshire, the sow is said to be brimming) which 
 is exactly the A. s. bremend, fervens. w. c. 
 1. A strumpet ; abbreviation of brimstone. 
 The same etymon may serve both. A. s. brymende, 
 fervens, or brync, ardor. 
 
 BRINK-WARE, s. small faggots to repair the banks 
 of rivers. They are generally made of white thorn 
 for its strength and durability. 
 
 BROACHES, BRAUCHES, s. pi. rods of sallow, 
 hazle, or other tough and pliant wood split, sharp- 
 ened at each end, and bent in the middle like an 
 old fashioned hair pin ; used by thatchers to pierce 
 and fix their work. A fell of such wood is divided 
 into hurdle-wood and broach-wood ; the stouter and 
 the slenderer. Fr. broche. 
 
 BROAD, s. a lake formed by the expansion of a river 
 in a flat country j as Braydon Broad, between Nor- 
 wich and Yarmouth, and several others in that part 
 of the county of Norfolk ; Oulton Broad, &c. in the 
 hundred of Lothingland, in Suffolk. 
 
 BROAD-BEST, s. the best suit of apparel. Perhaps 
 because understood to be made of broad cloth. 
 
 BROAK, BROCK, v. to belch. A. s.broccetan, rue- 
 tare. 
 
 BROCK, s. a badger ; but only used in a dirty com- 
 parison. " He stinks like a brock." The animal is 
 generally called badger, or else by his proper name. 
 Sui.-G. brokug, versicolor.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 41 
 
 BRUCKLED, BRUCKET, adj. grimy, speckled and 
 ingrained with dirt. Ex. " that child's hands are 
 all over bruckled" Sometimes it is used in a figura- 
 tive sense ; not meaning that the thing to which it 
 is applied actually wants washing, but that it looks 
 as if it did. " A brucket complexion," cannot be bet- 
 ter described. Archdeacon Nares having read 1 
 a " bruckled child," but never heard the word in 
 use, supposes it to mean breeched-, laughably 
 enough to us, who often see bruckled children, with 
 or without breeches. 
 
 BRUFF, adj. hearty, jolly, healthy, in good case. 
 Should it be spc 
 " Pretty bruff'." 
 
 BRUMP, v. to lop trees in the night. 
 
 BRUMP, s. as large a portion of such plunder as can 
 be carried away at once. 
 
 BRUN, s. bran ; but that is assuredly the corrupt 
 word, and ours is the pure one. It designates the 
 brown part of the grist, from which the white flour 
 has been separated. A. s. brun, fuscus. 
 
 BRUSTLE, 5. a bristle. A very easy change ; but 
 there is Teut. burstael, seta. 
 
 BUCK, s. that part of a cart or waggon, which may 
 very properly be called its belly. A. s. bucc, ven- 
 ter. R. s. E. c. 
 
 BUCK, v. to spring or bound with agility, like a buck. 
 
 BUCKER, s. 
 
 1. A horse's hind leg. 
 
 2. A bent piece of wood somewhat like it in shape; 
 particularly that on which a slaughtered animal is 
 hung up, more generally called a gambrel > which, 
 
 E 3
 
 42 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 it may be observed, has a very similar connexion 
 with Ital. gamba, a leg. 
 
 In both senses it is sometimes pronounced Bucket ; 
 a change exactly like that of BADGER to BADGET. 
 q.v. 
 
 BUCKER-HAM, s. the hock joint of a horse. Teut. 
 buchen, flectere. 
 
 BUCK-HEAD, BUCK-STALL, v. to cut down a 
 quickset hedge to the height of two or three feet, 
 with a view of renovating its growth. The two 
 words are used indiscriminately. Buck-stall may 
 have been retained from some supposed resem- 
 blance the hedge so reduced bore to a sort of net 
 so called, with which deer were anciently inter- 
 cepted and caught in a forest. But what con- 
 nexion can this mischievous practice in husbandry 
 have with a buck's-head. Perhaps from the jagged 
 and forky ends which may be thought to resemble 
 the branches of antlers. Old trees, having their 
 " high tops dry with bald antiquity," are also said 
 to be buck-headed ; seemingly from the same re- 
 semblance. 
 
 BUD, s. a calf of which the horns are beginning to 
 shoot. But the name is equally applied to those of 
 the same age, of the polled breed. R. s. E. c. 
 
 BUDDLE, s. a noxious weed among corn. Chrysan- 
 themum segetum, Lin. T. Boddle. 
 
 BUFFER, s. a fool, a buffoon. Fr. bouffard. L. sc. 
 
 BUFFET-STOOL, s. a four-legged stool set on a 
 frame like a table. It is the poor man's side-board, 
 table, or stool, as occasion requires. PR. PA. biiffet- 
 stole.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 43 
 
 BUFFLE, v. 
 
 1 . To handle clumsily, as if the fingers were stuffed 
 or blown up. 
 
 2. To speak thick and inarticulately, as if the mouth 
 were stuffed. 
 
 Fr. boujfu. 
 
 BUFFLE-HEADED, adj. stupid and confused. 
 
 BULK, . to throb. 
 
 BULKING, s. a throbbing in the flesh. 
 
 BULL-FEIST, s. the common puff-ball ; Lycoperdon 
 bovista, Lin. It is called crepitus lupi, by Parkin- 
 son, and bofist by Bauhin, whence came the words 
 lycoperdon and bovista. Our provincial name is 
 certainly from bull, and A. s. foist or Jist, flatus 
 ventris. In some counties it is called puck-fist, 
 which attributes the same flatulence to the jolly 
 goblin Robin Goodfellow. 
 
 BULLOCK, v. 
 
 1. To bully. 
 
 2. To bellow or lament vociferously. Ex. " sobbing 
 and bullocking." Here the termination ock has 
 certainly the force of an intensive or frequentative. 
 
 BULL'S-NOON, s. midnight. The inhabitants of 
 dairy counties can feelingly vouch for the propriety 
 of this term. Their repose is often broken in the 
 dead of night by the loud bellowing of the lord of 
 the herd, who, rising vigorous from his evening ru- 
 mination, rushes forth on his adventures, as if it 
 were broad noon-day, and blares with increased 
 rage and disappointment when he comes to a fence 
 which he cannot break through. 
 
 BULLY-MUNG, s. According to T. a mixture of 
 the meal of oats, pease, and vetches. SK. makes
 
 44 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 buck-wheat the main ingredient. With us, it means 
 any coarse thick mixture for homely food. The 
 derivation doubtfully proposed by SK. is probably 
 right. A. s. bilig, ater, and mengean, miscere. 
 
 BULLY-RAG, BULARAG, v. to revile in vulgar 
 and opprobrious terms. V. Rag- BR. w. w. R. 
 JEN. Isl. bol, divas, and ragian, deferre. LYE. 
 
 BULVER, v. to increase in bulk by being rolled over 
 and over, like snow. The word is often applied to 
 hay or corn collecting into increasing heaps. Fr. 
 bouleverser. 
 
 BUMBASTE, v. to beat or baste severely, particu- 
 larly to inflict school discipline. 
 
 BUMBLE, v. to muffle. Ex. " The bells were bum- 
 bled at his burial." 
 
 BUMBLES, s. pi. Coverings for the eyes of a horse, 
 obstructing his vision more effectually than com- 
 mon blinkers. 
 
 BUMBLE-BEE, s. a better name than the common 
 one, humlle-bee, and more delicate than the L. sc. 
 bum-bee. It is to be wished it were fairly derivable 
 from the/3o/t/3evo-ajueX<ff<ra of Theocritus. Remotely 
 and circuitously it may. Teut. bommen, sonare. 
 
 BUMBLE-FOOTED, adj. having a thick lumpish foot 
 which moves, as if it were made whole, without ar- 
 ticulations. 
 
 BUMBY, 5. any collection of stagnant filth, into 
 which the drain from some dirty place runs. It 
 may suffice to hint a probable derivation, by ob- 
 serving that there is commonly a burnty behind the 
 little concealed retreat at the corner of the garden. 
 R. s. B.C.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 45 
 
 BUMP, s. a small round swelling from a blow. Isl. 
 
 bomps, ictus. SH. Romeo and Juliet. 
 BUMP, v.' 
 
 1. To administer summary justice, or injustice, in 
 some cases of youthful delinquency, not by the 
 birch, which is the master's exclusive right, but 
 by bringing the same part to which it is usually 
 applied, in rude contact with a post or a tree. This 
 process, if incautiously, or too severely conducted, 
 is likely enough to produce bumps, in the sense 
 above given. Sometimes, if there be accomplices 
 in the offence, and neither tree nor post be conve- 
 niently at hand, both hammer and block, as they are 
 called, are human. In perambulating the bounds 
 of parishes, it is customary to bump the junior 
 members of the procession against a boundary post 
 or tree, to fix the place more firmly in the memory. 
 BR. 
 
 2. To ride, without rising in the stirrups, on a rough 
 trotting horse. 
 
 BUMPTIOUS, adj. apt to take unintended affronts, 
 and resenting them petulantly and arrogantly. Ap- 
 parently it is from bump in its derivative sense, 
 swollen. 
 
 BUND-WEED, BUNDS, s. different species of wild 
 centaureae, particularly nigra, Lin. which much 
 infests grass land j and some species of scabiosa 
 (succisa, Lin. for instance). It is quasi bum weed, 
 from the roundness and plumpness of the parts of 
 fructification in the plants above-mentioned, cer- 
 tainly more applicable to them than to senecio 
 jacolaa, or polygonum convoholus, to which it is
 
 46 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 applied by Dr. Jamieson. Dan. bund, pars ima. 
 L. sc. 
 
 BUNDLE, s. an opprobrious term applied to females, 
 equivalent to baggage, which perhaps means strictly, 
 a follower of the camp. Bunch is used in the same 
 sense. 
 
 BUNGA Y-PL AY, s. A simple straight forward way 
 of playing the game at whist, by leading all winning 
 cards in succession, without any plan to make the 
 best of the hand. Perhaps it was applied before 
 the invention of whist, to an unskilful manner of 
 playing old games, as primero, gleek, &c. At any 
 rate we are not to understand, that, in this name, 
 an indiscriminate, and therefore an unjust, censure 
 is cast upon all the good people of Bungay for their 
 unskilfulness. In o. E. bungar was synonymous 
 with bungler. So this injurious term was, in fact, 
 bungar-play or bunglar's play, and should now be 
 called bungle-play or bungler's play. After all, let 
 East Anglian lovers of the old rubber console them- 
 selves for being out of fashion, and confirm their 
 antiquated preference by the certainty that what 
 they call bungay-play is the very essence of the 
 new-fangled Shorts . It is not Whist. 
 BUNG-TAIL, s. the tail of a draught-horse, docked 
 and pared down to the shape and size of a bung. 
 This cruel mutilation was practised not many years 
 ago, in particular on horses of the justly-celebrated 
 Suffolk breed. It is even at present rather to be 
 hoped, than positively asserted, that those noble 
 and valuable animals are never tortured into that 
 frightful state of deformity.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 47 
 
 BUNKS, s.pl. the wild succory, cichoreum inlybus. Lin. 
 One of the many fancied improvements in hus- 
 bandry, brought into culture some years ago by 
 certain distinguished agriculturists, but now found 
 nowhere but where it ought to be, by the highway 
 side, and of Nature's planting. 
 
 BUNNY, s. a small swelling caused by a fall or blow. 
 Perhaps a diminutive of bump. The Nurse in Ro- 
 meo and Juliet tells of her child getting a bump 
 in her forehead by falling down. From her account 
 of the size of it, a modern East Anglian nurse 
 would certainly call it a bunny. One would be glad 
 to derive it from the Greek fiovvos, a hillock. It 
 may be so, through the Gothic. Sir T. Browne. 
 
 BUNTING, BUNTY, adj. miserably mean and shabby. 
 Obviously connected with BUNTER, a coarse word 
 expressing the lowest point of degradation of the 
 fair sex. 
 
 BURBLES, s. pi. small vesicular tingling pimples ; 
 such as are caused by the stinging of nettles, or of 
 some minute insects. Minsh. calls them barbies. 
 Qu. because they have been produced by punctur- 
 ing the skin with little barbed points ? 
 
 BURN, t-. Phr. "To burn daylight." 
 
 1. Literally, to light candles before they are wanted. 
 
 2. Metaph. to waste time and neglect business. It 
 occurs twice in SH. in this sense, in Romeo and 
 Juliet, and Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 BURR, s. a mistiness over and around the moon, 
 which dims her light, as if she were passing 
 through a slightly-intercepting medium.
 
 48 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 BURTHEN, v. to charge closely and pressingly. 
 Ex. " I burthened him with it as strong as I could, 
 but he would not confess." Certainly very expres- 
 sive. " I left that load upon his conscience, to 
 bear it as he ca !" It is o. E. used by Bp. Latimer. 
 
 BUSK, v. particularly applied to domestic fowls ex- 
 posing themselves to the sun on a hot day, lying 
 in the most dusty place they can find, and scratch- 
 ing up the dust among their feathers, to rid them- 
 selves, as it is said, of the" vermin with which they 
 are infested. This seems to have some connexion, 
 though not very near, with the sense of busk in 
 northern English and Lowland Scotch, which is to 
 dress. This refreshing exercise is, however, not 
 confined to tame fowls. Perhaps all the feathered 
 tribes practise it. Spots are often found where a 
 covey of partridges has been busking. After all, it 
 may be only a somewhat corrupt form of bask. 
 
 BUSK, s. a piece of wood, whalebone, or other mate- 
 rial placed in front of women's stays. Nares sup- 
 poses the name obsolete. Johnson goes as far back 
 as Donne for it. Much as our rustic lasses have 
 departed from their former simplicity of costume, 
 they still wear busks, and call them by that ancient 
 name. Fr. busque. 
 
 BUTTER-FINGERED, adj. apt to let things fall," 
 says PE. ; rather to let them slip through the fingers 
 as if they were greasy ; also unable to handle hot 
 substances ; as if the surface of the fingers were 
 melted, and so lost the power of retention. 
 
 BUTTER-TEETH, s. pi. broad and yellow teeth.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 49 
 
 BUTTLE, s. another name for the bottle-bump, butter- 
 bump, or bittern. 
 
 BUTTON, s. a very small cake. A gingerbread but- 
 ton." 
 
 C. 
 
 C ADDOW, s. a jackdaw. It has been supposed to be 
 so called as being a catv-da'w ; but its voice can 
 scarcely be called a caw. It is a harsh sound be- 
 tween screaming and chattering. Another conjec- 
 ture is cade-da'w. This seems more likely, for it is 
 sometimes kept in a tame state, and plays many 
 amusing tricks ; but its saucy, thievish, and mis- 
 chievous disposition must make it a very trouble- 
 same fondling. Ka is the L. sc. word which seems 
 rather to lead to Teut. Jcae, or A. s. ceo, comix. 
 
 CAIL, v. 
 
 1. To throw weakly and wide of the mark. A boy 
 throws a stone, a mauther calls it. 
 
 2. To move with a wavering and irregular gait. 
 
 3. To gambol and throw out the heels like a skittish 
 colt, " kicking and calling." 
 
 In its primary sense it may be derived from a very 
 
 common missile ; Fr. calllou. 
 
 CALIMANCO-CAT, s. that variety which is com- 
 monly called the tortoise-shell or Spanish cat, re- 
 markable for its fine and shining fur. Pussy is 
 likely to have first obtained this name at Norwich. 
 The glossiness of her skin was supposed to resem- 
 ble one of the principal ancient manufactures of 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 50 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 that industrious city. The surface of calimanco 
 shines somewhat like satin. 
 
 CALL, v. to use abusive language; to call names, 
 not particularizing any. Ex. " How she did call 
 me!" JEN. becall. BR. call. 
 
 CALL, s. need, occasion. Ex. " There was no call 
 for your doing so;" i. c. you were not called upon. 
 
 CALLOW, s. the stratum of vegetable earth lying 
 above gravel, sand, limestone, &c. which must be 
 removed in order to reach them. The process is 
 called uncallowing. There may seem to be a con- 
 fusion or inversion of terms and senses, but still it 
 may have come from A. s. calu, calvus. 
 
 CALM, s. the concreted scum of bottled liquors. 
 
 CALMY, adj. mothery. 
 
 CAMBUCK, s. the dry stalk of dead plants, as of 
 hemlock, or other umbelliferae ; Ex. " As dry as a 
 cambuck." A. s. cammoc, peucedanum. 
 
 CAMP, v. 
 
 1. To play at the game so called. 
 
 2. To kick in general. 
 
 CAMP, s. an ancient athletic game at ball, now al- 
 most superseded by cricket, a less hardy and dan- 
 gerous sport. Yet camping, though not so gene- 
 ral, is still a favourite exercise in some districts of 
 both our counties. The late Right honourable 
 William Wyndham, scarcely more celebrated as a 
 statesman and a philosopher, than as a patron of the 
 " Sports and Pastimes of the English People," on 
 a principle truly patriotic, though it might some- 
 times incur ridicule, gave great encouragement to 
 this sport during his residences in the country, and
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 51 
 
 had many matches in the neighbourhood of his ve- 
 nerable seat at Felbrigg. He was wont to say, 
 that it combined all athletic excellence ; that to 
 excel in it, a man must be a good boxer, runner, 
 and wrestler; in short, a sort of pancratiast. Cer- 
 tainly, no kind of manly exercise can display to so 
 much advantage the powers, proportions, and atti- 
 tudes of a fine muscular frame. The late Lord 
 Rochford was also a great patron of this sport in 
 the neighbourhood of his seat at Easton in Suffolk. 
 Perhaps some varieties in the mode of playing it 
 always existed ; and certainly it is now degenerated, 
 and some meaner exercises unworthily usurp its 
 name. Of the sport itself, however, two varieties 
 are at present expressly recognized ; rough-play, 
 and civil-play. In the latter, there is no boxing. 
 But the following is a general description of it as it 
 was of old, and in some places still continues. Two 
 goals are pitched at the distance of 120 yards from 
 each other. In a line with each are ranged the 
 combatants ; for such they truly are. The num- 
 ber on each side is equal ; not always the same, 
 but very commonly twelve. They ought to be uni- 
 formly dressed in light flannel jackets, distinguished 
 by colours. The ball is deposited exactly in the 
 mid-way. The sign or word is given by an um- 
 pire. The two sides, as they are called, rush for- 
 ward. The sturdiest and most active of each en- 
 counter those of the other. The contest for the 
 ball begins, and never ends without black eyes and 
 bloody noses, broken heads or shins, and some se- 
 rious mischiefs. If the ball can be carried, kicked,
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 or thrown to one of the goals, in spite of all the re- 
 sistance of the other party, it is reckoned for one 
 towards the game ; which has sometimes been 
 known to last two or three hours. But the exertion 
 and fatigue of this is excessive. So the victory is 
 not always decided by number of points, but the 
 game is placed against time, as the phrase is. It is 
 common to limit it to half an hour; and most cam- 
 pers, now-a-days, oioi vov fiporoi eiaiv, have in that 
 time got enough of so hardy a contest. The spirit 
 of emulation prevails, not only between the adverse 
 sides, but among individuals on the same side, who 
 shall excel his fellows. The prizes are commonly 
 hats, gloves, shoes, or small sums of money. And 
 the rustic pancratiast who bears off the first, is not 
 less conspicuous in the little circle in which he is 
 known, than the Grecian victor decorated with his 
 chaplet of olive or of pine. This ancient game de- 
 serves the more attention from us, because, if it 
 was not peculiar to the East Angles and East Sax- 
 ons, it has probably been always a particular fa- 
 vourite with them. Ray says that in his time, it 
 prevailed most in Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex. To 
 Sir Thomas Browne, who came among us from 
 another kingdom of the Octarchy, it was new; and 
 he puts the word camp (or as he spells it kamp) 
 into his small collection of Norfolk words. Strutt 
 gives no account of it in his " Sports and Pastimes 
 of the English People." All this may serve as some 
 sort of apology for the length of this article. Ray 
 is certainly right in deriving the word, not from 
 Latin but from Saxon. Undoubtedly we had it
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 53 
 
 from the Saxons, whencesoever they might get it. 
 A. s. campion, praeliari. 
 
 CAMPING-LAND, s. a piece of ground set apart for 
 the exercise of camping. Land was given for this 
 purpose with all legal formalities. There is a field, 
 abutting on the church.yard at Swaffham, in Nor- 
 folk, which, according to the Continuator of Blom- 
 field's History, was given by will by a Rector, in 
 the year 14-72. From that time to this, it has been 
 called by this name, and the youth of that popu- 
 lous parish have enjoyed the right of performing 
 their exercises in it. Cricket is now the game. 
 In the little parish of East Bilney is a small strip of 
 land, or as we call it a spong, near the church, 
 which is called the camping-land. And, though 
 that use of it has long ago ceased, the old inha- 
 bitants well remember the time when the lads 
 of the village regularly repaired thither, after even- 
 ing service on Sundays, to play foot-ball and other 
 games. In the late Sir John Cullum's " History 
 of Hawstead, in Suffolk," the camping-pightle is 
 mentioned under the date 1466. A large piece of 
 pasture land at Stowmarket is still called the camp- 
 ing-land. Other instances might be mentioned in 
 other parishes in both counties. Tusser, who was 
 a farmer in both, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
 speaks of camping with much commendation, as 
 very beneficial to the turf. 
 
 CAMPING-BALL, s. a ball particularly adapted to 
 
 the sport of camping. It is to be feared that the 
 
 same name is sometimes most abusively misapplied 
 
 to the common light foot-ball, and that kicking 
 
 F 3
 
 54 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 that ball, and occasionally the shins or breech of 
 an adversary, is called camping a great insult and 
 indignity to that ancient and noble exercise. 
 CANCH, s. 
 
 1. A small quantity of corn in the straw put into a 
 corner of the barn or an out-house. 
 
 2. A short turn or spell at a job of hoeing, ditch- 
 ing, &c, 
 
 3. A trench, cut sloping to a very narrow bottom, or 
 an angle. 
 
 Teut. kante, angulus. 
 
 CANKERFRETT, s. verdegrise. The rust of copper 
 or brass. When the tinning is worn off from kitchen 
 utensils, they are said to be canker-fretted. It is 
 not used for the rust of any other metals. 
 
 CANKER-ROSE, s. the common red field poppy, 
 otherwise called copper-rose and head-ache. 
 
 CANKER-WEED, s. the senecio jacobcea, Lin. toge- 
 ther with some neighbouring species, as tenuifolius 
 and sylvaticus ; which were some years ago so 
 abundant in some parts of Suffolk, on commons and 
 waste lands, as to be collected and burned for pot- 
 ash. 
 
 CANT, v. 
 
 1. To set up on edge. 
 
 2. To throw upwards with a jerk. 
 
 As the course of a missile so thrown may be consi- 
 dered as rather angular than parabolical, it may 
 belong to Teut. kante, angulus. BR. " to up-set." 
 CANT, s. a jerk. Ex. " He gave it a cant," into the 
 window, or over the wall.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 55 
 
 CANT-RAIL, s. a triangular rail ; of which two are 
 cut from a square piece of timber sawn diagonally. 
 
 CAP, s. a challenge to competition ; victory over a 
 competitor. The latter is the strictly proper sense, 
 for it must be deduced from A. s. cop, apex. Or 
 perhaps Isl. kappe, athleta. 
 
 CAP, v. to challenge ; to overcome. Something is 
 proposed or done by somebody, which another is 
 to imitate or excel if he can. Cap is properly to 
 cover. . School-boys cap verses, i. e. quote them in 
 succession by a certain rule, and lay them, as it 
 were, one over another. The boy who can go no 
 higher is cap'd by his competitor. In puritanical 
 times of old capping of texts was a favourite, and 
 doubtless very edifying, sort of pious pastime. 
 With us at large, the word is used on a great va- 
 riety of profane occasions. An idle boy leaps a 
 ditch, or climbs a tree, and if his play-fellow can- 
 not equal or out-do him, it is a cap ; he has cap'd 
 him. BII. 
 
 CAPER-PLANT, s. a very common garden weed ; 
 the euphorbia lathyris, Lin. It is thus called, 
 from a fancied resemblance, surely a very imper- 
 fect one, of its capsules to capers, the flower-buds 
 of a very different plant. The substitution is 
 known to have been once at least tried by a re- 
 markably frugal housewife. Fortunately, the first 
 acrimonious taste warned the family to reject the 
 noxious sauce, and they escaped with a little ex- 
 coriation of lips and tongue. 
 
 CAPS, *. pi. all sorts of fungi. V. TOAD'S CAP. 
 CAPPERED, part, usually applied to cream, wrink-
 
 56 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 led on the surface by standing in a brisk current 
 of air ; sometimes to the surface of land suddenly 
 dried after rain. It is rather a curious word. It 
 is almost impossible not to derive it from Lat. cape- 
 ro. Yet a word, in such a case, is very unlikely to 
 have been taken immediately from Latin, and 
 there appears to be no Saxon word through which 
 it might have been transmitted. There may have 
 been one, however, though none appears by which 
 this may have come orally down to us ; for it is not 
 likely that it has ever been written, much less 
 printed. 
 
 CAR, s. a wood or grove on a moist soil, generally of 
 alders. 
 
 CASE, s. cause. We whimsically transpose these 
 two words : Ex. " He did it without any case 
 whatsomever." " Oh, if that be the cause, indeed !" 
 we say becase for because. 
 
 C ASE-worm, s. the caddis. 
 
 CAST, part, warped ; thrown on one side as it were, 
 from a straight form. 
 
 CASUALTY, s. the flesh of an animal that dies by 
 chance. Ex. " Gipsies feed on casualties." " This 
 mutton is so pale and flabby, it looks like a casu- 
 alty" " He gave a bullock to the poor at Christ- 
 mas, little better than a casualty." But to be cor- 
 rect, pronounce it cazzlety. 
 
 CAST, i\ yield, produce. Ex. "How did your wheat 
 cast?" In Suffolk, the question would be, "How 
 did it rise?" 
 
 CAT, s. a mass of coarse meal, clay, and some other 
 ingredients, with a large proportion of salt, placed
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 57 
 
 in dove-cotes to prevent the pigeons from leaving 
 them, and to allure others to come. Called also a 
 salt-cat ; meaning, no doubt, a salt-cote. 
 
 CATCH-LAND, *. border-land, of which the tithe 
 was disputable, and taken by the first of the claim- 
 ants who could catch it. These matters are now 
 put on a surer footing, in this country at least, if 
 not every where. Tithe so taken, was called 
 catch-tithe. 
 
 CATCH-ROGUE, s. one whose office it is to appre- 
 hend offenders. A constable or bailiff. Is it pos- 
 sible that what has so very much the air of a mere 
 cant word, should be a corruption, handed down 
 through so many ages, of N. Fr. cacherau, a bailiff? 
 
 CAT'S-TAIL, s. Hippuris vulgaris, Lin. Here we 
 correct the great naturalist. This plant is surely 
 much more like the tail of a cat than of a horse. 
 
 CAVE, v. to fall into a hollow below. If a stratum 
 of gravel, limestone, sand, &c. have been incau- 
 tiously excavated, or even a grave or a ditch in a 
 loose soil, it caves in. 
 
 CAVING, s. the chaff and broken ears of corn, swept 
 from the threshing floor. 
 
 CAUK, s. calcareous earth in general ; any sort of 
 limestone. It ought to be spelled calc. Johnson 
 calls it a " coarse talky spar," and quotes Wood- 
 ward. Talc and spar, according to the present 
 mineralogical nomenclature, do not seem to be of 
 frequent occurrence in East Anglia ; but of cauk, 
 calc (at least what we call so), we have a very great 
 abundance. Indeed, it is the substratum of a very 
 wide extent of our country, as geologists tell us.
 
 58 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 In very many parts are quarries of it : some of 
 great size, and have been worked many centuries. 
 It is of various qualities, from a loose friable marie, 
 to a close grained building stone. It has been 
 proved to be very firm and durable in many mo- 
 dern buildings, where due care has been taken to 
 lay it as it was in its native bed. Otherwise, it soon 
 scales off in laminae, or even splits thrpugh its 
 whole substance. But the great proof of its dura- 
 bility is afforded in the ruined walls of some of our 
 monastic buildings (of which it forms a considera- 
 ble part), where it has been exposed near three cen- 
 turies to the action of the elements; and whence 
 much of it has been taken in a sound state to be 
 used in new erections. 
 
 CAUNSEY, s. a causey, a raised and paved way. The 
 letter n may be supposed to have been corruptly 
 intruded. Yet merely the substitution of one li- 
 quid letter for another, will bring it to N. Fr. cal- 
 sey. 
 
 CAUSE, s.'case, q. v. 
 
 CESS, s. a layer or stratum ; when successive quanti- 
 ties of things of the same kind are regularly placed 
 one over another. SH. 2 Hen. IV. " out of all cess." 
 On that authority the word is given here ; but it 
 certainly ought to be spelled sess, as no more pro- 
 bable derivation can be assigned than, Fr. assesser, 
 to regulate. 
 
 CHADS, s. pi. dry husky fragments among food. In 
 
 JL. sc. " gravelly stones in rivers." 
 Teut. schadde, gleba. 
 
 CHADDY, adj. full of chads. Ex. The bread is
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 59 
 
 chaddy" It has been made of meal not properly- 
 sifted to get out husks, fragments of straw, or 
 gritty particles of the mill-stone. 
 CHAITS, s. pi. fragments or leavings on plates or 
 trenchers, or of the food of animals, as turnip- 
 chaits. The same word, no doubt, with chits, crumbs 
 of bread. L. sc. or scraps of offal (whence chitter- 
 lings v dim.) To which maybe added chats, as ash- 
 chats, sycamore-chats, maple-chats (what are other- 
 wise called the kegs of those several trees) ; black- 
 thorn-chats are the young shoots or suckers of the 
 black-thorn on rough borders, where they are oc- 
 casionally cut and faggotted, but the roots left in 
 the ground. All different forms of the same word, 
 and of connected meaning. 
 
 CHALDER, v. to crumble and fall away, as the sur- 
 face of cawk, gravel, &c. by the action of moist air. 
 Otherwise cholder and cholter. 
 
 CHALM, v. to chew or nibble into small pieces. 
 Books and papers are too often chalmed by mice, if 
 they can get at them. The letter I is dropped in 
 pronunciation. It seems connected with champ. 
 CHAMBLE, v. to chew minutely. Dim. of champ. 
 CH AMBLINGS, s. pi. husks of corn, or other very 
 
 small scraps of what has been gnawed by vermin. 
 CHAP, s. a fellow, with whom one does not care to 
 have dealings. An abbreviation of chapman. It 
 is not wonderful that allusions to dealing or trading 
 should abound in the vulgar tongue of " la nation 
 boutiquiere," as we have been called by our envi- 
 ous neighbours and rivals; but if such terms are 
 expressive of contempt, we may be pretty sure
 
 60 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 they had their origin when our ancestors were a 
 proud military nation. In Romeo and Juliet, the 
 nurse calls Mercutio " a saucy merchant." This 
 sounds very oddly in our ears ; now, merchant is 
 a term of respect. A modern nurse would have 
 called the gay banterer " a saucy chap." There is, 
 however, the same allusion to trading. It is from 
 Sui.-G. kaeps, homo servilis conditionis. L. LC. v. D. 
 
 CHATTER- PIE, 5. a mag-pie, q. v. 
 
 CHECK, v. to taunt, to reproach. Ex. " He checked 
 him by the favours he had done him." " She 
 check'd him by his cousin Tom," who, perhaps, 
 had the ill fortune to be pilloried, or transported, 
 or was a fellow of infamous character, p. B. 
 
 CHEESE-RACK, s. a rack to dry cheese on. L. sc. 
 
 CHICK, s. a flaw, as in earthernware. Fr. chiche. 
 
 CHICK, v. 
 
 1. To begin to germinate ; as seeds in the earth, 
 leaves from their buds, or barley on the couch in 
 the malt-house. PR. PA. " Chip," BR. 
 
 2. To crack, chap, chop, as the skin in frosty wea- 
 ther. At least as good, some may perhaps think 
 a better, word. 
 
 CHICKEN'S-MEAT, 5. 
 
 1. The herb chick-weed. Alsine media, Lin. 
 
 2. Also dross corn, only fit to feed fowls. 
 A. s. cicene-mete, alsine. 
 
 CHILD-AGE, s. childhood. Intended as a term of 
 contradistinction to old age. 
 
 CHILDERMAS-DAY, s. That day of the week in 
 every year, on which the anniversary of the Holy 
 Innocents falls. Any of which days is most inau-
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 61 
 
 spicious for the commencement of any undertaking. 
 In the Spectator, No. 7, we learn that the same 
 notion of the weekly recurrence of this unlucky 
 day was entertained at that time. The word itself 
 is genuine Saxon. BR. A. s. childe-masse-dcEg. 
 
 CHILL, v. to take off extreme coldness from any sort 
 of beverage by placing it near the fire in frosty 
 weather. Ex. " Do you like your beer chilled?" 
 It has certainly the appearance of conveying a 
 sense directly the reverse of that which the word 
 usually bears ; but possibly in strictness it may 
 not. What was before cold, may be understood 
 to be thus made only chill. 
 
 CHIMDY, CHIMBLY, CHIMLEY, s. a chimney. 
 The third form, which is also L. sc. and Lane, is 
 merely a substitution of one liquid for another. BR. 
 
 CHINE, s. the part of a cask into which the head is 
 fixed. CH. Chimb, JEN. Belg. kime. ID. 
 
 CHINE-HOOP, s. the extreme hoop which keeps the 
 ends of the staves together, and is commonly of 
 iron. 
 
 CHINGLE, s. loose gravel, small stones, &c. L. sc. 
 
 CHINGLY, adj. abounding in small stones, &c. com- 
 monly applied to a newly repaired road. The 
 loose pebbly beach is called the chingle, or shingle. 
 
 CHINK, s. a sprain on the back or loins, seeming to 
 imply a slight separation of the vertebrae. 
 
 CHINK, v. 
 
 1. To cause such an injury. Ex. " The fall chinked 
 his back." 
 
 2. To cut into minute pieces. 
 VOL. i. ' G
 
 62 VOCABULARY OP 
 
 The word in all these senses is often corruptly pro- 
 nounced jink. And so it is in the sense of sound 
 from collision. Thus, we talk of the jinking of 
 money. 
 
 CHIP UP, v. to recover gradually from a state of 
 weakness. In L. sc. it means to germinate ; a 
 connected sense. JAM. derives it from Belg. kip- 
 pen, ova excludere. 
 
 CHIPPER, v. to chirp. Ours is a metathesis of that 
 word, or rather of chirrup. 
 
 CHITTY, CHITTY-FACED, adj. baby-faced; from 
 chit, and that from O. Fr. chicke. 
 
 CHIVY, v. to chace, to run and career gaily, like boys 
 in their sports. An obvious allusion to the old na- 
 tional ballad. 
 
 CHIZZLY, adj. harsh and dry under the teeth. Teut. 
 kiesele, gluma. 
 
 CHOBBINS, s. pi. unripened grains, not coming out 
 of the husks under the flail, but beaten off by it, 
 quasi choppings. 
 
 CHOBBY, adj. abounding in chobbins. 
 
 CHOLICKY, adj. choleric. It is generally supposed 
 to be a corruption ; but it is not so ; we have 
 ancient authority. In SH. Troilus and Cressida, 
 Ajax tells the trumpeter, to " outswell the cholic 
 of puffed Aquilo." Though the speech is meant 
 to be bombastic, it would be too extravagantly so, 
 to compare the roaring of Aquilo to a violent fit 
 of the gripes. His rage is certainly meant. Cholic 
 is synonymous with choler, and better derived from 
 Greek than French. Besides, the intestinal colic 
 must be spelled without h.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 63 
 
 CHOMP, v. to chew loudly and greedily. Intens. of 
 champ. 
 
 CHOO! interj.used. to drive away pigs, or to set dogs 
 upon them. Cotgr. says " chow is a voice where- 
 with we drive away pullein." And why not pigs ? 
 O. Fr. chou. 
 
 CHOP-LOGGER-HEAD, s. an intense blockhead. 
 One who has a head, to all appearance thick and 
 stout enough to bear a blow of a hatchet. 
 
 CHOUT, s. a jolly frolic ; a rustic merry-making. 
 
 CHOVY, 5. a small coleopterous insect, which invades 
 gardens and orchards in hot summers, in our sandy 
 districts, and the immediate neighbourhoods of 
 them, in such swarms as to be nearly equal to a 
 plague of locusts; devouring every green thing 
 before them. It is common to drive ducks into a 
 garden, or swine into an orchard, and shake the 
 insects from the trees to be devoured. But their 
 numbers, constantly renewed, are often found in- 
 superable. PE. 
 
 CHRISTIAN, s. a term of distinction, not from Deist, 
 or Atheist, Jew, Turk, or Infidel ; but from brute 
 beast. Of a very docile horse, sagacious dog, or 
 even learned pig, it is common to express admira- 
 tion, by exclaiming, " He act just for all the 
 world like a Christian ! " and we have ancient au- 
 thority for it. In SH. 2 Hen. IV. the word is used 
 in the same meaning by a prince, " He had him 
 from me Christian, and see if the fat villain hath 
 not transformed him ape." 
 
 CHRISTMAS, s. the evergreens with which our
 
 64 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 churches and houses are still decorated at the sea- 
 son of Christmas. 
 
 CHUBBY, adj. surly. 
 
 CHUFFY, adj. in our usage, has no reference to 
 " clownishness or surliness," which is given to it 
 in all the DICTT. It merely means fat and fleshy, 
 particularly in the cheeks. It seems to agree suf- 
 ficiently with Shakspeare's use of the substantive 
 chiiff", which we have not. But our own word, 
 though certainly an adjective, is sometimes used 
 substantively, as a familiar and ludicrous name of 
 the musculi giatcei. Fr. jouffii. 
 
 CHUMP, s. a small thick log of wood. 
 
 CHURCHING, s. the church service. To one of the 
 offices in particular, this name is given in the Book 
 of Common Prayer. But we say in general, " We 
 have churching twice on a Sunday." 
 
 CHURCH-MAN, s. an officiating minister. He is a 
 good, bad, or indifferent church-man, as he acquits 
 himself in the desk and pulpit. 
 
 CHURCH-CLERK, s. the parish-clerk. Long in use. 
 
 CLACK-BOX, s. the mouth which contains a nimble 
 tongue. 
 
 CLAGGY, adj. clogged with moisture, as roads and 
 foot-paths are after moderate rain. BR. A. s. clceg, 
 terra samia. 
 
 CLAG-LOCKS, 5. pi. locks of wool matted together 
 by the natural moisture of the animal, or wet and 
 dirt. 
 
 CLAM, s. 
 
 1. Clamminess. Ex. '' The meat has been kept too 
 Jong, and has got a clam," begins to decay.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 65 
 
 2. A slut, so excessively dirty that her skin looks 
 
 clammy. 
 CLAM, v. 
 
 1. To stick together by some viscid matter. 
 
 2. To emaciate, to starve with hunger. The juices 
 of the body being supposed to be thickened and 
 gradually dried up. 
 
 A. s. clcemian, oblimare. 
 CLAMP, s. 
 
 1. An extempore and imperfect sort of brick-kiln, 
 in which bricks are burned when there is not earth 
 enough near the spot to answer the expense of 
 erecting a regular kiln. 
 
 2. A mound of earth lined with straw to keep pota- 
 toes through the winter. 
 
 In both these senses, the idea of confinement or close 
 covering is so necessarily implied, as to point out 
 the derivation from A. s. clam, plasma. 
 
 CLAMPER, v. to make a noisy trampling in walking, 
 as men do whose shoe soles are guarded with iron, 
 women in iron pattens, &c. Teut. klampern, me- 
 tallum tundere. L. sc. 
 
 CLAP-DISH, s. an ancient utensil mentioned in many 
 passages of old plays, quoted by Steevens in his 
 commentary on SH. Measure for Measure, where 
 in the text, it is called a clack-dish. It was a 
 dish, or rather box, with a moveable lid, carried by 
 the beggars at that time, to attract notice by the 
 noise it made, and to bring people to their doors. 
 The thing has been many years out of use, and its 
 name survives only in a ludicrous comparison. Of 
 03
 
 66 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 a great prater it is said, that " his tongue moves 
 like a beggar's clap-dish" 
 
 CLARET, s. any sort of foreign red wine. It is pos- 
 sible that this name, now become ridiculous, may 
 have continued in provincial use from the time 
 when Gascon wines only were imported into this 
 country. There seems to be no other way of ac- 
 counting for its present existence. 
 
 CLART, v. to dawb with syrup, juice of fruit, or the 
 like. L. sc. BR. 
 
 CLARTY, adj. dawbed with syrup, &c. sticking to 
 the fingers. Teut. kladde, sordes. L. sc. BR. 
 
 CLAUMB, CLOMB, v. to clamber in a heavy and 
 awkward manner. Intens. of climb. 
 
 CLAUNCH, v. to walk in a lounging manner, as if 
 the feet were dragged along in the dirt, to save the 
 trouble of lifting them up. Ex. " Yinder go black 
 Betty, claunching along in her creepers." 
 
 CLAY-SALVE, s. common cerate j from its colour. 
 
 CLEAD, v. to clothe. Dan. Mede, parinus. 
 
 CLEADING, 5. clothing, o. E. 
 
 CLEAS, CLEYES, s. claws ; as of a lobster or crab. 
 Ex. " Crack the deas in the hinge of the door." 
 A. s. clea, ungula. Cleyes, o. E. 
 
 CLEAT, v. to strengthen with thin plates of metal. 
 Shoe-heels are often cleated with iron ; and kitchen 
 utensils worn thin, with copper. 
 
 CLEAT, s. a thin metallic plate. Jockies and horse- 
 dealers call the light shoe of a running-horse, a 
 date. BR. A. s. deot, lamina. 
 
 CLEPE, v. to call. The word is used by our boys at 
 play, who depe (or, as they commonly pronounce
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 67 
 
 it, clip] sides, or opposite parties at ball, &c A. s. 
 cleopan, vocare. o. E. 
 
 CLEVER, adj. dextrous, adroit. Ray says, " neat, 
 elegant." In either sense it is so very common 
 and general, and appears so to have been for many 
 years, that it seems difficult to conceive how Sir 
 Thomas Browne should have been struck with it 
 as a provincialism ; and still more, how Ray, long 
 afterwards, should have let it pass as such, without 
 any remark. If not when Sir Thomas wrote his 
 tract, certainly long before the second edition of 
 R. s. E. c. published by the author, it had been 
 used by Butler, L'Estrange, and South. In 
 L'Estrange, indeed, it might be positively provin- 
 cial; in Butler, low, ludicrous, or even burlesque; 
 in South, too familiar and undignified for the pul- 
 pit; but in neither, provincial. But what shall we 
 say of Addison, who had also used it ? In x. j. 
 it is said to be low, and scarcely ever used but in 
 burlesque, and in conversation. A colloquial and 
 familiar term it certainly is ; but assuredly not 
 provincial, nor even low. Sir Thomas Browne is 
 the only guarantee of its insertion here. And if it 
 must be ours, let it by all means be taken with our 
 own rustic pronunciation, clover. 
 
 CLICKET, v. to chatter. Dim. of clack. T. 
 
 CLICKET, adj. voluble. Fr. cliqueler. 
 
 CLIM, s. a sort of imp which inhabits the chimneys of 
 nurseries, and is sometimes called down to take 
 away naughty children. He may perhaps have 
 taken the name of " Clym of the Clough," the com- 
 panion of Robin Hood, as the great Duke of Marl-
 
 68 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 borough was for many years, and perhaps still is, 
 the scarebabe in Flanders, under the name of Mal- 
 brouk. 
 CLIMP, v. 
 
 1. To touch a polished surface with dirty or greasy 
 fingers, and leave marks upon it. A bald head 
 kept very smooth and glossy, may serve as an in- 
 stance of such a surface; and in a compound 
 Saxon word we find our verb in immediate con- 
 nexion with it at least, if its sense is not strictly 
 proved by that connexion. 
 
 2. It is a sort of cant term for steal. 
 Isl. dim, unguis. 
 
 CLINK, s. a smart slap ; from the sound. Teut. 
 klinche, colaphus. L. sc. 
 
 CLINKS, 5. pi. long nails used for fixing irons on 
 gates, &c. where they are wanted to take strong 
 hold. Perhaps so called because strong blows are 
 required to drive them, and they clink under the 
 hammer. 
 
 CLINKERS, s.pl. bricks of a smaller size than usual, 
 burned very hard, and set up on edge to pave sta- 
 bles, or other places where there is trampling of 
 heavy cattle. When thrown together they do not 
 rattle like common bricks, but make a clinking, like 
 the collision of metallic substances ; whence their 
 name. JEN. 
 
 CLIP, v. to shear wool. BR. 
 
 CLIP, CLIPPING, s. 
 
 1. The act of shearing. 
 
 2. The produce of it. " Farmer A. had but a very 
 moderate clip this year." BE.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 69 
 
 CLIPPER, s. a shearer of sheep. The word clip, and 
 all words connected with it, are thus appropriated 
 by us. The great annual meeting at Holkham 
 was more fluently and familiarly called, the Holk- 
 ham clip or clipping, than the sheep-shearing. The 
 word shear is peculiarly applied to the reaping of 
 wheat, or other grain severed with the sickle. The 
 DICTT. do not give our sense of clip. 
 
 CLIVER, s. a chopping- knife ; better than cleaver. 
 A. s. clifan, findere. 
 
 CLOD, v. to clothe. Clothe, clode, clod, which verb 
 certainly existed in the Saxon ; for we find A. s. 
 cloded, vestitus. 
 
 CLODDING, s. clothing. A pauper solicits clodding 
 for her children ; the overseer tells her they were 
 clodden but a little while ago. Affording us ano- 
 ther good participle of the verb clod. 
 
 C LODGER, s. the cover of a book. As from the 
 Fr. cosier (a cobler) comes codger, so will dodger, 
 by a very good analogy, come from Fr. closier. 
 
 CLOD-HOPPER, 5. a working farmer, or labourer in 
 husbandry. In T. j. we are told that this is the 
 modern vulgarism for clod-pole. Vulgarisms both, 
 undoubtedly ; but they can never be synonymous 
 and commutable till head and heels meet. Indeed, 
 none but a very accomplished tumbler can be at 
 the same time a clod-pole and a clod-hopper. The 
 meaning of each word is quite obvious, and per- 
 fectly distinct. 
 
 CLOGSOME, adj. heavy, dull, tiresome. 
 
 CLOG-WHEAT, s. a bearded species, or variety of 
 wheat, which in Mark-lane is called rivets.
 
 70 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 CLOTCH, v. to tread heavily, and move awkwardly. 
 
 CLOUGH, s. (pron. clou).* This is an original An- 
 glo-Saxon word, not in use as an appellative noun, 
 or in its simple form, but as a compound proper 
 name ; and that only in one instance. But on that 
 very account it deserves notice. It is interpreted 
 by Sumner " fissura ad clivum mentis." In the 
 instance about to be produced, there is certainly 
 no mountain, the declivity is very gentle, but the 
 fissure distinct enough. In the ancient town of 
 Lynn, there is a certain narrow lane, happily too 
 obscure and insignificant to have suffered by that 
 mischievous spirit of innovation which has abo- 
 lished so many ancient, descriptive, and even his- 
 torical names, in old towns improved under Paving 
 Acts. The lane in question bears at this day an 
 appellation which might have been given to it be- 
 fore the Norman Conquest, on the supposition that 
 it was in existence as a lane at that time. Whe- 
 ther it was so or not, the Clough, from which it is 
 called, certainly existed then, or it could not be so 
 denominated now. This venerable name is now 
 affixed in due form on a painted board, to a corner 
 house. At the farther end of the lane is a narrow 
 water-course, with its grassy and weedy sides 
 sloping down to a considerable depth, and giving 
 the idea of a fissure rather than a drain. This 
 small current flows, before it leaves its lane, into a 
 wider channel, called by another Saxon name, 
 Fleet (A. s. FleotJ, which empties itself into the 
 Ouse on the other side of the town, after passing 
 under three bridges. From Mr. Brockett's copious
 
 EAST ANGL1A. 71 
 
 and curious Glossary of North Country Words, 
 1825, it appears that this word is still in use in its 
 simple and appellative form, and is defined, " a 
 ravine between two precipitous banks, having a 
 run of water at bottom." The coincidence is exact 
 with our single instance. 
 CLOUT, s. 
 
 1. A heavy cuff. Ex. " I gave him a good clout on 
 the scull." 
 
 2. An iron plate on a shoe. V. CLEAT. 
 Teut. klotsen, pulsare. L. sc. 
 
 CLOW, s. the clove pink. Fr. cloux de girofle. 
 
 CLUE, s. three skeins of hempen thread. 
 
 CLUMPERS, s. pi. very thick and heavy shoes. 
 Wooden shoes are called by the same name in Hol- 
 land. Belg. Uomper. 
 
 CLUNCH, s. close-grained hard limestone, fit to be 
 used in building, but soft when first taken from the 
 quarry. 
 
 CLUNCHY, adj. short, thick, and clumsy. 
 
 CLUNG, part, tough, juiceless. SH. Macbeth, has the 
 verb cling, " till famine cling thee," i. e. dry up all 
 thy juices. It is also applied to land which is tough 
 to work. A. s. clingan, marcescere. 
 
 CLUTCH, s. a brood of chickens, &c. R. N. c. clotch ; 
 but ours seems better. As it is applied to the little 
 animals only in their tenderest state, when first 
 hatched, it may express the possibility of grasping 
 or clutching many or all of them in the broad hand 
 of the stout wench who generally takes care of 
 them. 
 
 CLUTTER, s. confusion, disorder. In our use of the 
 word, there is no idea of " noise, clamour or bustle,"
 
 72 VOCABULARY OP 
 
 which the DICTT. give, and which seem to con- 
 found it with clatter. Ex. " The room is in a clut- 
 ter," if the tables and chairs stand in disorder. The 
 box, drawer, or shelf is " in a clutter," when the 
 papers, linen, or whatever else it contains, are con- 
 fusedly intermingled. 
 
 CLUTTER-UP, v. to throw into confusion and dis- 
 order. Possibly it may have some connexion with 
 litter. Certainly it has in sense. 
 
 COAL-HOD, s. an utensil of metal or wood, to hold 
 the coals to be thrown on the fire ; otherwise called 
 the coal-scuttle, shoot, or shoe ; all which names are 
 more or less allusive to its form. T. j. has only 
 coal-box in this sense, which has no such allusion. 
 Indeed the shape of a box would be a very incon- 
 venient one, and must always require the help of a 
 shovel. V. HOD. 
 
 COARSE, adj. opposed to fine, as applied to weather. 
 Ex. " It is a coarse morning." 
 
 COB, s. 
 
 1. A sea-gull. 
 
 2. The stony kernel of fruit. 
 
 COBLE, s. a fishing-boat; as Mr. Brockett well de- 
 scribes it, sharp in the bow, with square stern and 
 flat bottom. By Mr. Todd's leave, a cobble and a 
 coble are two very different things. Of the latter 
 his derivation is certainly right. A. s. cuople, na- 
 vicula. 
 
 COBBLE,.?. 
 
 1. The round stones with which most country towns 
 are paved. 
 
 2. The stone of fruit. 
 
 3. Any small, hard, pebbly substance.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 73 
 
 COB-IRONS, s. pi. 
 
 1. The andirons on which wood is burned on the 
 hearth. R. s. E. c. p. L. 
 
 2. The irons hung upon the bars of the kitchen-range 
 on which the spit is supported. 
 
 COCK-BRUMBLE, s. the hawk's bill bramble, as it is 
 
 otherwise called, from its curved spines. Rubus 
 
 fruticosus, Lin. 
 COCK-EYE, s. a squinting eye; which must be set 
 
 or cocked, like the lock of a gun, before aim can be 
 
 taken at an object. 
 COCK-FARTHING, s. a term of endearment used to 
 
 a little boy. 
 COCK'S-EGG, s. an abortive egg, without a yolk. 
 
 This must be like " lucus a non lucendo." 
 COCK'S-TREAD, s. the filmy rudiments of the em- 
 bryo chick, floating in the albumen of an egg not 
 
 quite new-laid. 
 COFIN, s. a coffin. B. A. cophin, as if from Latin 
 
 cophinus. A. s. cqfa, fovea. 
 
 COFRE, s. a chest to keep clothes. Fr. cofre. CH. 
 COIT, v. to toss up the head. Of a proud and affected 
 
 minx, it is said she "coits up her head above her 
 
 betters." BR. gives coit to toss, in general. 
 COIT, s. a toss of the head. Fr. coite, a canopy. 
 COLD-CHILL, s. a ridiculous pleonasm, meaning an 
 
 ague-fit, or the first access of a fever. 
 COLDER, s. broken ears of corn mixed with short 
 
 fragments of straw, beaten off by the flail. 
 COLLAR, v. to sully with soot or coal-dust, w. c. 
 
 colly. . 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 74 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 COLLAR, COLLAR-COAL, 5. black smut from the 
 chimney or bars. We distinctly pronounce it thus. 
 SH. has it colly, in the phrase, " collied night ;" but 
 there is some authority in o. E. (not duly noted) 
 for collar. At any rate it is from A. s. col, carbo. 
 
 COLLAR-BALL, s. a light ball with which children 
 play. There is some allusion, perhaps, to its usual 
 dirtiness. 
 
 COLLAR-BEAM, s. the highest and shortest beam 
 in a building, which is thought perhaps to hold to- 
 gether and secure the roof, as the garments are 
 held by the collar. It seems a better word than its 
 synonym WIND-BEAM, q. v. 
 
 COLLOGUE, v. to confer together for some mis- 
 chievous purpose. It has nothing to do with " flat- 
 tering and cajoling," as in T. j. It has been called 
 a corruption of colleague ; but it is not. It has a 
 proper meaning of its own ; and a derivation too, 
 coming directly or indirectly from Lat. colloquor. 
 
 BR. JEN. 
 
 COLT, s. any person in a parochial, or other office, 
 who attends a public meeting for the first time, is 
 called a " colt," and must be " shod ;" that is, must 
 pay a forfjit n liquor for the benefit of the com- 
 Ar pany. Ex " We shall have a good frolic to day ; 
 
 ; we have four colts to shoe." 
 COME, v. 
 
 1. To become. Ex. " What is come of her ? " It is 
 the original and simple, and why not the proper 
 form? It is o. E cf 400 years standing, occurring 
 an p. L. The j:re.ix be is so vaguely and variably
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 75 
 
 used in a multitude of words, that grammarians are 
 unable to give a satisfactory account of it. 
 
 2. Imperf. t. of come. Ex. " He come yesterday." 
 It is o. E. in p. G. and CH. Perhaps it should be 
 spelled, as it is by some illiterate scribes, cum. 
 
 3. Intruded into several words, awkwardly and vul- 
 garly, perhaps, but not without meaning, Etf 
 " To-morrow-come-se'nnight." " Tuesday-come- 
 fortnight." Meaning, no doubt, when to-morrow 
 se'nnight, or Tuesday fortnight shall come ; or, 
 let them come, and then the thing will happen. A 
 more facetious phrase is, " to-morrow-come-never." 
 Ad Graecas calendas. To this may also be referred, 
 miscomfortune and miscomhap ; words very injuri- 
 ously reputed corruptions. 
 
 COME-BACK, s. a guinea-fowl. Its harsh cry is 
 supposed to resemble the pronunciation of those 
 two words. 
 
 COME OUT! A word of command to a dog, when 
 he barks and seems disposed to bite. " Come in " 
 is of course very often what is actually meant. It 
 is, therefore, as Mr. Wilbraham observes, " an odd 
 expression." It may perhaps be interpreted, "come 
 out of the mischief you are in." w. c. 
 
 COMMANDEMENT, s. commonly reputed a corrup- 
 tion, but certainly not so. It is exactly as we re- 
 ceived it from the French. 
 
 COMPANY-KEEPER, s. a lover. 
 
 COMPASS, s. an outline ; as of carpenters' work, of 
 laying out ground, &c. with a sweep, approach- 
 ing to a circular form. In St. Paul's voyage, Acts, 
 ch. xxviii. the pilot " fetched a compass." A bow-
 
 76 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 window was anciently called a compass-tvindoia. 
 SH. Troilus and Cressida. 
 
 COMPASSING, adj. in a roundish or circular form. 
 
 CONDITION, 5. temper. Ex. "An ill-conditioned 
 fellow!" It is a very old sense. SH. Hen. V. "My 
 condition is not smooth " 
 
 CONEY-LAND, s. land so light and sandy as to be fit 
 for nothing but the breeding and feeding of rab- 
 bits. A common jest is, that it may be ploughed 
 with two rabbits and a knife. 
 
 COOK-EEL, s. a sort of cross bun, made and eaten in 
 Norfolk during Lent. They are sold cheap, and 
 may be from Fr. coquille. 
 
 COOMS, s. pi. the high ridges in ill-kept roads, be- 
 tween the ruts and the horse-path. 
 
 COP, v. to throw something upwards, in order to 
 reach a mark at some moderate distance. CH. 
 uses coppe for top. w. c. cob. A.s. copa, apex. 
 
 COOP! inter j. a common word of invitation to domestic 
 poultry, not to come into the coop to be fatted, but 
 to peck up the food thrown down for them. It is, 
 perhaps, an abbreviation of the words come up. Cup 
 is often so used. Coop in the same sense is in JEN. 
 
 COPE, s. a large quantity or great number. There 
 certainly must have been such a substantive as 
 cope in the Anglo-Saxon language, though it does 
 not appear in the DICTT. in its simple form. But, 
 from its compounds or derivatives, it seems rather 
 to have signified value than abundance. Those 
 two ideas, however, are commonly so associated as 
 to warrant the Saxon derivation of our word; 
 though its remote origin must, no doubt, have been 
 Lat. copia.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 77 
 
 COPE, u. to fasten up. The use of this word is con- 
 fined to warreners, who are said to " cope" their fer- 
 rets, when they sew or tie up their mouths, to pre- 
 vent them from biting rabbits, when they are used 
 to drive them from their holes. 
 
 COP- HALFPENNY, s. the game more generally 
 called chuck-farthing. 
 
 COPPER-ROSE, s. the wild red poppy. Fr. couperose. 
 
 COPPLE-CROWN, s. a tuft of feathers on the head 
 of a fowl, not such as can be depressed at pleasure, 
 like the crests of many birds, but permanently 
 erect. It is sometimes called a t apple-crown, which 
 is strictly synonymous. Cop is top. 
 
 COPPLING, adv. unsteady, in danger of falling. Ex. 
 " It stands coppling, as if it stood upon its head." 
 B. JONS. Alchemist, says, "it stands a-cop.'' 
 
 COP- WEB, s . a cob-web. Nearer to Saxon. A.S. at- 
 ter-coppa, aranea j q. d. poison-top. 
 
 COP-WEB-WEATHER, s. misty weather. 
 
 CORF, s. a floating cage or basket to keep lobsters ; 
 used on the Suffolk coast. In M. s. it is cawf. In 
 the Northern Coal Counties the stout basket used 
 in the mines is called and written corf. BR. derives 
 it from Lat. corbis. Perhaps, however pronounced, 
 it should be written coph or coff, from Lat. cophmus. 
 
 CORN, s. a particle, a very minute portion, as it were 
 a grain ; B. JONS, has, " a corn of salt." A pepper- 
 corn is very commonly used, but certainly not with 
 propriety. We also apply it to salt, and to many 
 other things. A smoker is pressed by his com- 
 panions, at the "heel of the evening," to lengthen 
 their placid enjoyment of the pipe, with " Come ! 
 
 H3
 
 78 
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 put in nine corns more." A barley-corn is our 
 least measure of length j the third part of an inch. 
 In L. sc. the word is curn. 
 
 CORNER, s. a point in a rubber at whist. We say, 
 we play sixpences or a shilling a corner, not six- 
 penny or shilling points. 
 
 CORNY, adj. 
 
 1. Abounding in corn. Ex. " These sheaves are 
 heavy and corny." 
 
 2. Tasting well of malt. Ex. " The ale is corny!' CH. 
 
 3. Tipsey. BR. 
 
 COSH, ,9. the glume of corn, particularly wheat. 
 
 " White wheat in a red cosh," is a favorite variety. 
 
 Fr. cacher. 
 
 COSSET, v. to fondle. Fr. corset. 
 COSSET, s. a pet, something fondly caressed. 
 COSSET-LAMB, s. a lamb reared without the ewe. 
 
 R. S. E. C. 
 
 COSTLY, adj. costive. This may be thought to have 
 deserved a place among obvious corruptions, if it 
 deserved any at all. But let us look a little closer. 
 The DICTT. derive their word from Fr. const ipe. 
 Perhaps justly ; it has the Fr. adjective termination 
 if or ive. But our word, by its Saxon termination 
 ly, seems to claim descent from another etymon, at 
 least equally significant. A. s. costian, tentare. V. 
 FRUGAL. 
 
 COTHE, v. to faint. 
 
 COTHISH, COTHY, adj. faint, sickly, ailing. There 
 can surely be no doubt of the identity of these words : 
 the former is Sir Thomas Browne's, the latter the 
 modern form. Yet in the Pref. to R. N. c. it ia in-
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 79 
 
 terpreted morose, without a word of explanation or 
 proof. It never could have been used in that sense: 
 Its derivation is so very obvious, that it is wonderful 
 it escaped Ray. It is amply justified by modern 
 and very frequent use. A dog is said to be cothy 
 when he is meek and delicate. A. s. cothe, morbus. 
 
 COTTERLIN, s. V. COSSET, o. FR. cadeler. 
 
 COUCH, COUCH-HANDED, adj. left-handed. Fr. 
 gauche. 
 
 COUNT, v. to guess, to suppose, to opine. Ex. " I 
 count you farm 300 acres." It is not to be under- 
 stood that any trouble has been taken to compute. 
 
 COUSIN, s. nephew or niece, o. E. In SH. Pandarus 
 calls Cressida his cousin, who was, however, his 
 niece. 
 
 COUSIN BETTY, COUSIN TOM, s. a bedlamite, or 
 rather an impudent vagrant pretending to be such. 
 V. BESS O'BEDLAM. They were wont to enter 
 the sitting room of a family, having first ascertained 
 that there was nobody in it but women and chil- 
 dren, with whom they claimed kindred. Whence 
 their names, which, like many others, have outlived 
 their meaning, and are now used like their syno- 
 nyms before noticed. 
 
 COWL, s. the top of a malt-kiln, moved by the wind ; 
 from some resemblance it may have to a monk's 
 hood. PR. says, that in the North it is absurdly 
 called a coto. Neither BR. nor w. c. notice it. 
 
 COWLICK, s. a twist or wreathing in the hair of the 
 forehead, which, in a calf, might be supposed to 
 have been licked by the cow out of its natural po- 
 sition, w. c. BR.
 
 80 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 COW-MUMBLE, s. a wild plant, more commonly 
 called coia-parsnip. Heracleum spliondyleum, Lin. 
 
 COWSLOP, s. a cowslip, o. E. PR. PA. 
 
 COW-TONGUED, adj. having a tongue, smooth one 
 way and rough the other, like that of a cow. Ex- 
 pressively applied to one who gives fair or foul lan- 
 guage, as may best suit his purpose. 
 
 COY, s. 
 
 1. A decoy for ducks. 
 
 2. A coop for lobsters. V. CORF ; certainly a better 
 word than this, which may be a corruption of it. 
 The poor animals are not decoyed into their fatal 
 prison. 
 
 COY-DUCK, s. a duck trained to entice others into 
 
 the tunnel in a decoy. 
 COXY-ROXY, adj. merrily and fantastically tipsy. 
 
 JAM. gives coxy, coxcombical. 
 CRA, s. a crow. o. E. A.S. craiue, corvus. 
 CRAB-LANTHORN, s. a sort of pastry. V. APPLE- 
 
 JACK. 
 
 CRACK, CRAKE, . to brag. L. sc. v. D. 
 CRACK, s. 
 
 1. Something to boast of. Ex. " She is the crack of 
 the village." 
 
 2. A very short time. Ex. " It was done in a crack." 
 CRACK, adj. boasted. Ex. " A crack team." Isl. 
 . krekia, jactare. 
 
 CRACKLING, CRACKLE, s. the outside fat and 
 skin of roasted pork, so called from its crackling 
 between the teeth. 
 
 CRAG, 5. the craw. Ex. "He has stuffed his crag 
 well." Teut. kraeghe, guttur. L. sc. the neck.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 81 
 
 CRAG, s. a deposit of fossil sea-shells, found in 
 large quantities in an extensive district of the 
 county of Suffolk, and used with much advantage 
 as manure on the neighbouring light lands. 
 
 CRAMPLE, v. to move with pain and stiffness, as if 
 affected by cramps. 
 
 CRAMPLE. HAM'D, adj. stiffened in the lower 
 joints. 
 
 CRAWLY-MA WLY, adv. in a weakly and ailing 
 state. In R. s. E. c. it is explained by " indiffer- 
 ently well." It does not mean well in any degree, 
 though it may imply some little amendment in 
 health. It seems to have been fabricated from the 
 words crawl and nuitul, and to mean sorely mauled, 
 and scarcely able to crawl. 
 
 CREEPERS, s. pi. 
 
 1 . Low pattens mounted on short iron stumps, instead 
 of rings. 
 
 2. Grapnels to bring up any thing from the bottom of 
 a well or pond. 
 
 CREEP-HEDGE, s. one who prowls and sneaks 
 about, like small wild animals, through hedges, 
 
 CREVET, s. a cruet. A mere variation. 
 
 CRIBLE, s. a finer sort of bran. When the broad 
 bran has been separated from the meal, a second 
 sifting through a finer sieve, brings off crible. Fr. 
 cribler. R. s. E. c. 
 
 CRICKLE, CHUCKLE, v. to bend under a weight, 
 to sink down through pain or weakness. Dimin. 
 of crouch, which Dr. Johnson derives from Fr. 
 crochu. His late editor prefers another, which is 
 certainly very suitable to the first of our two words.
 
 82 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 BR. gives crinkle in the same sense. Teut. kriechen, 
 reptare. 
 
 CRIMBLE, v. to creep about privily, to sneak, to 
 wind along unperceived. A. s. crymbig, tortilis. 
 
 CRINCH, v. to crush with the teeth some harsh and 
 brittle substance, as unripe fruit. In Suffolk more 
 frequently pronounced cranch. Fr.grincer. L. sc. 
 
 CRINCHLING, s. a small apple. 
 
 CRINKLE, CRUNKLE, v. to wrinkle, twist, plait, or 
 rumple irregularly. Dan. kronkelin, torquere. BR. 
 
 CRISH, CRUSH, s. cartilage, or soft bones of young 
 animals, easily crushed by the teeth. 
 
 CROCK, s. smut, dust of soot or coal. w. w. R. BR. 
 
 CROCK, v. to defile with smut. 
 
 CROCKY, adj. smutty. A. s. crocca, fuligo. 
 
 CROME, s. a crook ; a staff with a hook at the end 
 of it, to pull down the bo ughs of a tree, to draw 
 weeds out of ditches, and for a variety of other 
 useful purposes. T. had a dung-crome ; we have 
 nut-cromes and many others. Belg. crom, uncus. 
 
 CROME, v. to draw with a crome. 
 
 CROODLE, u. to lie close and snug, as pigs, or pup- 
 pies in their straw. A dimin. of croivd in our sense 
 of it, q. v. w. c. 
 
 CROP, s. 
 
 1. Annual produce, as well animal as vegetable. We 
 talk of crops of lambs, turkeys, geese, &c. 
 
 2. The craw of birds, metaphorically applied to other 
 animals. L. sc. crap. 
 
 3. A joint of pork, commonly called the spare-rib. 
 Teut. krop, stomach us.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 83 
 
 CROPE, v. to creep slowly and heavily. Augm. of 
 
 creep. 
 CROSS-EYE, s. that sort of squint, by which both the 
 
 eyes turn towards the nose, so that the rays in 
 
 passing to each eye, cross each other ; and distinct 
 
 vision is attainable only by much skill and habit 
 
 in the squinter. 
 CROSS-PATCH, s. an ill-tempered fellow. Patch is 
 
 a very old word of contempt in SH. &c. but used 
 
 by us only in this combination. 
 CROTCH, s. 
 
 1. The meeting of two arms of a treej or of an arm 
 with the trunk ; or of the limbs of the human 
 body, below the waist. 
 
 2. A staff under the arm to support the lame. 
 CROTCHED, adj. cross, peevish, perverse. Doubt- 
 less for crouched, q. d. crossed. 
 
 CROTCH-ROOM, s. length of the lower limbs. It is 
 said of one who has long legs, that he has plenty 
 of crotch-room. 
 
 CROTCH-STICK, s. a stick having a crotch at the 
 end. In all these words the general idea is cross, 
 the name of which, is much alike in all modern 
 languages from the Latin. The word crotch may 
 seem to have come from the Ital. croce, as it easily 
 might. From some derivations, however, the let- 
 ter c appears to have sometimes had in the Saxon 
 the soft sound of ch as it has in Italian. If so, the 
 word may be our own. A. s. cruce, crux. 
 
 CROTCH-TROLLING, s. a method of trolling or 
 angling for pike, used in the broads and rivers in 
 Norfolk. The fisherman has no rod, but has the
 
 84 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 usual reel, and, by the help of a crotch-stick, 
 throws his bait a considerable distance from him 
 into the water, and then draws it gently towards 
 him. It is much practised by poachers, as there is 
 no rod, or " pole," to betray their intention. 
 
 GROUSE, v. to catterwaul. Not a corruption of ca- 
 rouse, as may seem at first sight, but far more ex- 
 pressively deduced from Fr. courroucer. 
 
 CROWD, v. to push, shove, or press close. To the 
 word, in its common acceptation, number seems 
 necessary. With us, one individual can crowd 
 another. CH. 
 
 CROW-KEEPER, s. a boy employed to scare crows 
 from new- sown land. On this poor word, no fewer 
 than five sage commentators have wasted their 
 critical powers to a very idle purpose. Lear, in 
 his madness says, " That fellow handles his bow 
 like a crow-keeper." A knotty passage ! And the 
 critics make a mighty coil about " cow-keepers, 
 crow-keepers, and scare- crows /" But the boy him- 
 self would untie the knot at once. Besides lustily 
 whooping, he carries an old gun from which he 
 cracks a little powder, and sometimes puts in a few 
 small stones, but seldom hits, and still seldomer 
 kills a crow. In Shakspeare's time, it seems that 
 the crow-keeper carried a bow, and doubtless 
 ''handled" it with as much awkwardness and as 
 little success as the modern boy manages his gun. 
 Tusser, speaking of keeping the birds from newly- 
 sown lands, has these lines : 
 
 " Then stir about, Nicol, with arrow and bow, 
 Take penny for killing of every crow."
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 85 
 
 All is quite plain. Yet such puzzles as this have 
 been known to " keep gravity out of his bed at 
 midnight." 
 
 CROW-TIME, s. evening; when rooks fly back in 
 great flocks, from their food to their trees. 
 
 CRUD-BARROW, CRUDDEN-BARROW, s. a 
 common wheel-barrow, to be shoved forward. In 
 p. L. we find the phrase crowding a barrow. Crud is 
 the part. 
 
 CRUMBLES, s. pi. crumbs, dimin. The verb is com- 
 mon. 
 
 CRUMP, v. to eat any thing brittle or crimp j of 
 which this word is an intens. L. sc. 
 
 CRUMP, CRUMPY, adj. brittle; dry baked; easily 
 breaking under the teeth. Teut. krimpan, contra- 
 here. BR. 
 
 CRUMPLIN, s. 
 
 1. A diminutive and mis-shapen apple. 
 
 2. Met. a diminutive and deformed person. 
 A. s. crump, curvus. 
 
 CRUNKLE, v. to rumple. Teut. kronchelen, corru- 
 gare. 
 
 CRUSH, C RUSTLE, s. gristle. Another form of 
 the same word. 
 
 CRIMANY! interj. of sudden surprise. 
 
 CUCKOO-BALL, s. a light ball made of party-co- 
 loured rags, for young children. 
 
 CUCKOO-FLOWER, s. orchis mascula or morio. Lin. 
 
 CUCKOO-SPIT, s. the fine white froth on growing 
 plants, which covers the little delicate larva of the 
 cicada spumans. Lin. Otherwise frog-spit and 
 VOL. I. I
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 toad-spit. In L. sc. gowk-spit. The gowk is the 
 cuckoo. BR. 
 CUDDLE, v. to hug and fondle. Belg. cuddegl. L. sc. 
 
 BR. 
 
 CULCH, s. thick dregs or sediment. 
 
 CULP, s. a hard and heavy blow. O. Fr. coulp. 
 
 CULPIT, s. a large lump of any thing. 
 
 CULVER, v. to beat and throb in the flesh. As a 
 sore advances towards suppuration it " bulks and 
 culvers." In Suffolk it is pronounced gelver. 
 
 CULVER-HEADED, adj. In common acceptation 
 it seems to mean thick-headed, stupid. But this 
 must be an improper use. It should rather mean 
 soft-headed, harmless "an it were any sucking 
 dove ! " The difference might be little or nothing 
 in point of stupidity. 
 
 CUMBLED, part, oppressed, cramped, stiffened with 
 cold. " Accombred with cold." PR, PA. Fr. com- 
 bler. 
 
 CUMBLY-COLD,a$. stiff, and benumbed with cold. 
 Intensely cold, if applied to weather. 
 
 C'UP, v. Probably an abbreviation of " come up." 
 It is usually addressed to beasts. Ex. Come along, 
 c'up. 
 
 CUPBOARD-HEAD, s. A most expressive desig- 
 nation of a head both wooden and hollow. An ad- 
 jective is sometimes formed from it. Ex. "A stupid 
 cupboard-headed fellow ! " 
 
 CUSHION-MAN, s. the chairman at the Quarter 
 Sessions ; or at any other public meeting, where 
 there is the same distinguishing mark of presidency. 
 
 CUSTARD, s. the school-master's ferula, or a slap on
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 87 
 
 the flat hand with it. Mr. Pegge calls it a cvstis 
 But what can that mean ? Our word, which is 
 most distinctly pronounced, may at least have had 
 originally a ludicrous allusion " dant crustula 
 lilandi doctores ! 
 
 CUTE, adj. shrewd, quick in apprehension. " A cute 
 lad." Corruption of Lat. acutus, would etymolo- 
 gists be ready to say, with one voice. Yet it is not 
 so, but from A. s. cuth, expertus. JEN. w. c. BR. 
 
 CUTH'A, v. quoth he. It is an ancient form of expres- 
 sion, and was often spelt by old writers quoth' a, 
 and probably pronounced much like ours. It refers 
 to something that has been said by another person. 
 Thus in SH. Rom. and Jul. Romeo says, e< One that 
 God hath made himself to mar." The nurse an- 
 swers, " By my troth, it is well said: for himself to 
 mar, guoth'a." 
 
 D. 
 
 DABBY, adj. moist and somewhat adhesive; sticking 
 to the skin like wet linen. 
 
 DABS, s. pi. dibbles. JUN. connects dibble with dabble. 
 It seems, indeed, to be a sort of diminution or re- 
 finement of it. If so, our dabs come very appositely 
 from Belg. dabben, lutum subigere. 
 
 D ADDLE, v. to walk unsteadily as a child; following 
 his dad " sequiturquepatrem non passibus aequis." 
 Or, it may be a variation of waddle. Or even of 
 tottle, which may be understood as a dimin. of tot- 
 ter. Tottle, toddle, doddle, daddle, all are connected.
 
 83 
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 DAFTER, s. a daughter. Indeed, it is only the word 
 daughter following in pronunciation the analogy of 
 laughter. Why then insert it ? Because there is 
 recorded authority for it in this form, in the Re- 
 gister Book of a certain parish in Norfolk, which, 
 through the blameable negligence of the curate', 
 was kept many years by the parish clerk. All the 
 female children baptised in above twenty years 
 were dafters. The dates are, indeed, somewhat 
 farther back than the retrospect of this work. But 
 the pronunciation is still occasionally to be heard 
 from some very old people. 
 
 DAG, s. dew. 
 
 DAG, v. to bedew. R.S.E. c. w. \v. R. w. c. BR. 
 
 DAG OF RAIN, Phr. A slight misty shower. Isl. 
 daeg, imber. 
 
 DAGGY, adj. dewy ; slightly moistened with rain. 
 
 DALLOP, s. 
 
 1 . A patch of ground among growing corn where the 
 plough has missed. T. 
 
 2. Rank tufts of growing corn where heaps of ma- 
 nure have lain. 
 
 3. A parcel of smuggled tea, varying in quantity, 
 from six to sixteen pounds, and perhaps more or 
 less. 
 
 4f. A slattern, synonymous of trollop. 
 5. A clumsy and shapeless lump of any thing tum- 
 bled about in the hands. 
 
 DALLOP, v. to paw, toss, and tumble about care- 
 lessly. 
 
 DAME, s. Once an honourable designation of fe- 
 males of high rank / now applied only to those of
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 89 
 
 the lowest. It is almost obsolete even there. JEN. 
 says, that in the West it is applied to a farmer's 
 wife. In the East it would be very offensive. 
 
 DANGEROUS, adj. endangered. Ex. " Mr. Smith 
 is sadly-badly ; quite dangerous." 
 
 DARNOCKS, D ANNOCKS, s. pi. hedger's gloves ; 
 that for the left hand being made whole to grasp the 
 thorns, and for the right, with fingers to handle the 
 hedging-bill. It should rather be Dornecks, which 
 is the proper Flemish name of Tournai, a Frenchi- 
 fied name, long since universally substituted. Two 
 hundred years ago, it was celebrated for its coarse 
 woollen manufactures, principally of carpets and 
 hangings, mentioned in some of our old comedies. 
 Probably thick gloves were another article of im- 
 portation. Our modern dannocks, indeed, are of 
 thick leather, and made at home by our own 
 glovers. Dan. dorneck. 
 
 DARK-HOUR, 5. the evening twilight. The interval 
 between the time of sufficient light to work, or 
 read by, and the lighting of candles; a time of 
 social domestic chat. Ex. " We will talk over that 
 at the dark-hour." 
 
 DASH, v. to abash. Perhaps a better etymon than 
 any that has been offered for the word (in this 
 sense, at least, which is very common with us) is 
 A. s. dwces, stupidus prae timore. 
 
 DAUBER, s. a builder of walls with clay or mud, 
 
 mixed with stubble or short straw, well beaten and 
 
 incorporated, and so becoming pretty durable. It 
 
 is used, particularly in Suffolk, to make fences for 
 
 i3
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 farm-yards, &c. and even walls for mean cottages. 
 In Norfolk it is now difficult to find a good dauber. 
 w. c. BR. 
 
 DAUNT, v. to stun, to knock down. Exactly answer- 
 ing to its derivation, Fr. dompter. 
 
 DAUZY, DAUZY-HEADED, adj. dizzy; eithe* 
 literally or metaphorically, as if confused, bewil- 
 dered, thoughtless. PE. 
 
 DAZE, DAZLE, DAURE, v. 
 
 1 . To dazzle. 
 
 2. To stun. 
 
 All these words, together with dash, are closely con- 
 nected, and the same etymon may serve them all. 
 Daze. w. w. R. w. c. BR. 
 
 DAYMAN, s. a labourer hired by the day. " Jacque- 
 netta is allowed for the day-woman," SH. Love's 
 Labour Lost. In a statute of Edward III. he 
 is called a dayar ; and in one of the Canterbury 
 Tales, a day. c. HAW. 
 
 DEAL-TREE, s. a fir-tree. 
 
 DEAL-APPLES, s. the conical fruit of the fir-tree. 
 There is an air of antiquity in this word. A. s. 
 ceppel, seems to be a general name for all fruit, 
 eatable or not. 
 
 DEATHSMEAR, s. a disease fatal to children. This 
 word is imputed to us by all the collectors of Pro- 
 vincialisms ; but a pretty extensive inquiry among 
 midwives, nurses, and other rustic gossips of much 
 experience and sagacity, has not produced any 
 living authority for it in either county. It does 
 not seem very likely that it ever did signify any 
 disease in particular, but the fatal termination of
 
 EAST AttGLiA. 91 
 
 any one. The collector might have heard an old 
 nurse exclaim, " Ah ! poor babe, 'tis in the death- 
 smear!" i. e. in the smore or mist of death, on the 
 point of losing its breath. Not that it is used even 
 in that sense now. A. s. smorau, suffocare. 
 
 DEE, s. a die. PI. n. dees or dece. A certain East 
 Anglian sportsman, of no little celebrity in his 
 day, a man of much simplicity of character, 
 strangely combined with a great deal of shrewd- 
 ness, having got into a party of black-legs at New- 
 market, who meant to pigeon him, suddenly ex- 
 claimed : " Hye, hye, here's a dee with tew 
 douces ! " His more adroit companions immedi- 
 ately turned the charge upon him, and he was 
 roughly handled for his fortunate or unfortunate 
 discovery. 
 
 DEKE, DIKE, s. a ditch. A. s. dice, fossa. CH. 
 
 DEKE-HOLL, DIKE-ROLL, 5. a hollow or dry 
 ditch. Or holl may be used alone in the same 
 sense. 
 
 DELF, s. a deep ditch or drain. From v. delve. 
 
 DELK, s. a small cavity, in the soil, in the flesh of the 
 body, or in any surface which ought to be quite 
 level. From dell, somewhat in the nature of a dimin. 
 
 DENE, s. din. o. E. 
 
 DERE, adj. dire, sad. Sir Thomas Browne. But it 
 is o. E. CH. has it, and SH. Love's Labour Lost, 
 " Deaf'd with the clamour of their own dear 
 groans." Dr. Johnson observes that dear is for 
 dere. And yet the words " own dear," may seem 
 to come very nearly to the sense of the adjective 
 <J>t\os in Homer ; <j>i\ov J?rwp, ^i\ov o/jL/na, <f>t\a
 
 92 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 yovvara. It is a sense of close and particular en- 
 dearment, in which certainly we often use those 
 two words, in speaking of any thing we particu- 
 larly cherish, as our beloved kindred or friends, or, 
 as in Homer, the limbs or organs of our bodies. 
 
 DERELY, adv. direly, lamentably, extremely. Ex. 
 " I am derely ill ; " " derely tired, " &c. Com- 
 monly, perhaps, but very absurdly, understood to 
 be dearly. 
 
 DEVE, v. to dive. o. E. also, to dip. 
 
 DE VILIN, s. the species of swallow, commonly called 
 the swift ; hirundo apus, Lin. Named from its 
 imp-like ugliness and screaming. JEN. Sheer-devil. 
 
 DEVIL'S-MINT, s. an inexhaustable abundance and 
 succession of things hurtful or offensive, as if the 
 devil himself were at work coining them. 
 
 DEVILTRY, DEVILMENT, s. any thing unlucky, 
 offensive, hurtful, or hateful, in which the devil 
 may be suspected of having some concern. The 
 first word ought certainly to be devilry, for it would 
 be an exact English form of the word diablerie, 
 which has the same meaning. The second word 
 looks like the French adverb diablement, trans- 
 formed to an English noun. 
 
 DEVING-POND, s. a pond from which water is 
 drawn for domestic use, by dipping a pail. 
 
 DEUS AN, s. a hard sort of apple which keeps a long 
 time, but turns pale and shrivels. Hence the si- 
 mile, " pale as a deusan." Fr. deux ans. 
 
 DEW-BEATERS, s. pi. coarse and thick shoes whic 
 resist the dew.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 93 
 
 DEW-DRINK, s. the first allowance of beer to har- 
 vest men, before they begin their day's work. 
 
 DIBLES, s. pi. difficulties, embarrassments, scrapes. 
 It may be a contraction of the Fr. diableries, or 
 from N. Fr. dibilU, disabled. 
 
 DICK-A-DILVER, s. the herb periwinkle. Vinca 
 minor. Lin. Is it so called from its rooting (delv- 
 ing) at every joint, and spreading itself far and 
 wide. 
 
 DICKY, s. an ass, male or female. 
 
 DICKY-ASS, s. a male ass; the female being usually 
 called a Jenny ass, or a Betty ass. 
 
 DIDDER, v. to have a quivering of the chin through 
 cold. BR. Belg. sitteren, a sono, quern frigore 
 trementes edimus. SK. G. A. 
 
 DIDDLE, v. to waste time in the merest trifling. An 
 extreme dimin. of dawdle. BR. 
 
 DIDDLES, DIDDLING S, s. young ducks, or suck- 
 ing pigs. 
 
 DIDLE, v. to clean the bottom of a river. 
 
 DILLS, s. pi. the paps of a sow. A contraction, per- 
 haps, of the foregoing word. At any rate they are 
 connected. 
 
 DILVER, v. to weary with labour or exercise. It 
 may not improperly be connected with delving, 
 which is one effectual mode of producing fatigue. 
 
 DING, v. 
 
 1. To throw with a quick and hasty motion. Ex. " I 
 dung it at him." 
 
 2. To beat or knock repeatedly. Ex. " I could not 
 ding it into him." R. s. E. c.
 
 94 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 DING, s. a smart slap ; particularly with the back of 
 the hand. Sui.-G. dcenge, tundere. 
 
 DINGE, v. to rain mistily, to drizzle. 
 
 DIP, s. a sauce for dumplings, composed of melted 
 butter, vinegar, and brown sugar. PE, gives us 
 credit for this delicious hors d'oeuvre. 
 
 DIRT- WEED, s. chenopodium viride, Lin. An ex- 
 pressive name for what generally grows on dung- 
 hills or other heaps of dirt. BR. muck-weed. 
 
 DISBURST, v. to disburse. The idea of bursting 
 may naturally enough suggest itself to an illiterate 
 person, on any occasion of expenditure. In using 
 this word, then, he has a distinct meaning, which 
 he would not have if he said disburse, of the proper 
 signification of which he knows nothing. 
 
 DISCOMFRONTLE, v. seems to be a compound of 
 discomfit and affront, in sense as well as in sound ; 
 the additional syllable at the end being intended 
 to smooth and round it off with the liquid/, eu- 
 phonise gratia. 
 
 DISOBLIGE, v. to stain or sully. A young miss is 
 apt to disoblige her white frock by romping in the 
 dirt with the boys, or by not taking proper care 
 when she eats her tart. The cat may disoblige the 
 carpet if she is not turned out of the room in time. 
 DO, v. Phr. " to do for." To take care of, provide 
 for. Ex. " The children have lost their mother, 
 but their aunt will do for them." The more cor- 
 rect sense of this phrase is widely different from 
 ours. To " do for one," or to " do his business," 
 means very generally and familiarly to dispatch 
 him, to knock him on the head, or get rid of him
 
 EAST ANtiLIA. 95 
 
 in some other way. And so, indeed, it does with 
 us. So that we have two opposite senses of doing 
 for. To " do for," also sometimes means to ma- 
 nage the affairs of another as steward or agent. 
 
 DOATED, part, decayed, rotten ; chiefly applied to 
 old trees. 
 
 DOBBLE, v. to dawb ; of which it seems a frequent. 
 
 DOCK, s. the broad nether end of a felled tree; or of 
 the human body. 
 
 DOCKSY, s. a very gentle softening or dimin. of the 
 foregoing in its second acceptation. 
 
 DOCTOR, s. an apothecary, who is invariably ad- 
 dressed and mentioned under this title. 
 
 DOCTOR OF SKILL, s. a physician, who never re- 
 ceives his proper title, but is as invariably styled 
 Mister. It is fruitless to attempt to explain this 
 commutation. Perhaps it may be on an equitable 
 give-and-take principle ; that the apothecary ought 
 to be compensated for the implied denial of his 
 skill, and the physician to feel himself sufficiently 
 honoured by the express acknowledgment of it. 
 
 DODDY, adj. low in stature, diminutive in person. 
 Probably from the common vulgarism hoddy-doddy, 
 as we also shorten hodmandod to dodman. 
 
 DODGE, s. a small lump of something moist and thick, 
 as of mortar, clay, &c. 
 
 DODMAN, s. a snail. Hodmandod is pretty general. 
 We are content with a part of it. R.S. E. c. 
 
 DOER, *. an agent or manager for another. 
 
 DOGS, s. pi. andirons on the hearth where wood is the 
 fuel. Carpenters also use dogs to support some of 
 their heavy work. A word implying that the dog
 
 96 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 is a beast of burthen, is certainly very odd and un- 
 accountable in our language. It might do well 
 enough in that of Kamschatka or of the Esquimaux. 
 Horse would certainly suit us better. Indeed we 
 do use it in a similar sense, and even employ it in 
 some lighter labours. We make a horse bear our 
 shirts and stockings in the laundry, and our but- 
 tered toast by the parlour fire, and we load a poor 
 dog with logs and beams. It is vain to attempt 
 tracing the origin of such a strange expression. BR. 
 
 DOG'S-GRASS, s. the common cynosurus cristatus, 
 Lin. It is literally, "dog's-tail grass;" but we 
 have cut off the tail. 
 
 DOLK, DOKE, a larger and deeper delk, q. v. A. s. 
 dolg, vulnus. 
 
 DOME, DOOM, DUM, s. down ; as of a rabbit, a 
 young fowl, &c. Dan. dun, pluma. 
 
 DONE-GROWING, adj. stunted in growth ; short of 
 stature. 
 
 DOLE, s. a distribution of alms, in money, food, fuel, 
 or clothing. It is strange this word is not given at 
 all in T. J. nor definitely in Ash. A. s. dcelan, dis- 
 tribuere. 
 
 DOOL, DOLE, s. a boundary mark in an uninclosed 
 field. It is very often a low post ; thence called a 
 Dool-post. A. s. dcslan, dividere. BR. 
 
 DOOR-STALL, s. a door post. The very Saxon 
 word. A. s. dur-stodl, postis. 
 
 DOP, 5. a short quick curtsey. A. s. doppetan, mersare. 
 
 DOP-A-LOW, adj. very short in stature. Especially 
 spoken of females. 
 
 DOR, s. a cock-chaffer. The meloloutha solslitialis, Lin.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 97 
 
 the larva of which does so much mischief to our 
 meadows and pastures, and the perfect insect is so 
 great an annoyance in summer evenings. A. s. dora, 
 fucus. R. s. E. c. 
 
 DORE-APPLE, 5. a firm winter apple of a bright yel- 
 low colour ; supposed, I trow, pretty generally, to 
 be thus called because it is as hard as a door. It is, 
 however, a corruption or perversion, in part trans- 
 lation of Fr.pomme d'or. 
 
 DORMER, s. a large beam. It is observable that the 
 only authority given for it in T. j. is that of a Suf- 
 folk author, even the witty historian of Wheatfield ; 
 the nature of whose subject would of course lead 
 him often to prefer the words and phrases current 
 in his county. The word is fairly our's. 
 
 DOSS, v. to attack with the horns, as a bull, a ram, or 
 a he-goat. So it cannot be, as some suppose, the 
 same as toss ; because, though bulls can do so, the 
 other two horned animals can not. Has it any con- 
 nection with dowse ? When the learned translator 
 of the three Greek Tragic Poets first came into 
 Norfolk as a curate, the farmer with whom he 
 lodged, completely posed his erudition, by telling 
 him, in pointing out to his observation a remarkably 
 fine bull, that he must soon make away with him, as 
 he had already "dossed three mouthers." 
 
 DOSS, s. a hassock to kneel upon at Church. Being 
 made of rushes and flags, which are also common 
 materials of baskets, it may be a contraction of 
 dosser, which occurs in o. E. in that sense; and 
 being carried on the back came from Fr. dos. CH. 
 
 DOUGH-UP, v. to stick together, as if with paste. 
 K
 
 98 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 DOW, s. a dove. ~~w/ 
 
 DOW-HOUSE, s. a dove cote. Dowcot. sc. N. 
 
 DOW, v. to mend, in health. Of a sick man continuing 
 in the same state, it is said that he " neither dies 
 nor dovos." May dotu mean do well? " Doe or die," 
 is an ancient military maxim or motto. Ray says, 
 dotv or daiv is, in " common speech," to awaken. In 
 what common speech? Are we to understand that 
 in his time it was a general word? PR. has "die 
 nor do." Of the etyma offered by Ray, the best 
 seems A.S. dugan, valere. w.c. w. w. R. 
 
 DOWLER, s. a sort of coarse dumpling. It seems 
 connected with dough. 
 
 DOWN-BOUT, s. a hard set-to ; a tough battle. 
 
 DOWNFALL, s. a descent from the atmosphere. 
 Rain, hail, or snow. L. sc. onfall. 
 
 DOWN-LYING, s. a lying-in. 
 
 DOWN-LYING, adj. applied to a woman in her 
 travail. 
 
 DOWN-PINS, s. pi. those who in a jolly carousal 
 are dead-drunk. Metaphor from Nine-pins. 
 
 DOWNY, adj. low-spirited. 
 
 DRABBLE, v. to draggle. Ours is the better word. 
 A.S. drabbe, faeces. 
 
 DRABBLE-TAIL, 5. a slattern, who allows her gar- 
 ment to trail after her in the dirt. 
 
 DRAGGING-TIME, s. the evening of the fair-day, 
 when the young fellows pull the wenches about. 
 
 DRAINS, s. pi. grains from the mash-tub* through 
 which the wort has been drained of 
 
 DRANT, v. to drawl in speaking or reading ; more 
 properly, perhaps, spelled draunt (pronounced like 
 aunt). It may be connected with drone.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 99 
 
 DRANT, s. a droning or drawling tone. Ex. " He 
 reads with a drant.'' It may be from A.s. dran, 
 fucus. JEN. drean. 
 
 DRAPS, s.pl. fruit in an orchard dropping before it is 
 fit to be gathered. 
 
 DRAWK, 5. the common darnel-grass. Lolium per- 
 enne, Lin. 
 
 DRAWLATCH, u. to dawdle tediously, and spend 
 much time on little work. 
 
 DRAWLATCH, s. a tedious dawdling loiterer. Min- 
 shew explains drawlatchet a sort of nightly thief, 
 from his drawing the latchets, or latches, of doors. 
 He supposes the word to have been long obsolete 
 in his time. Yet, lo ! after two centuries more it 
 still lives, very nearly in the same form, and not 
 remote from the same meaning. For though we 
 do not impute to a dratvlatch any other dishonesty 
 than that of wasting the time for which his em- 
 ployer pays him wages, it is easy to conceive that 
 he uses a part of it in watching opportunities to 
 pilfer ; and, in so long a course of years, the word 
 may easily enough have assumed a sense certainly 
 not unconnected. 
 
 DREPE, v. to drip, or dribble. A. s. drypan, stil- 
 lare. BR. 
 
 DREPING-WET, adj. so thoroughly soaked that 
 water drips from the garments. 
 
 DRINDLE, s. a small channel to carry off water, a 
 very neat diminutive of drain. 
 
 DRINGLE, v. to waste time in a lazy lingering man- 
 ner. It has exactly the same sense as drumble, 
 which Mrs. Ford uses in the " Merry Wives of 
 Windsor," in rating her servants for not being
 
 100 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 more nimble in carrying off the buck-basket. Had 
 that merry gossip been an East Angle, she must 
 have said dringle. 
 
 DROLL, v. to put off; to amuse with excuses. Pron. 
 like doll. 
 
 DROPE, v. to run down like wax or tallow from the 
 candle, or perspiration down the face in violent 
 heat. Intensive of drepe; but original Saxon. 
 A. s. dropian, stillare. 
 
 DROVY, adj. itchy; scabby; lousy; or all three. A 
 word of supreme contempt, or rather loathing. It 
 is from the subst. drove, which we have not. It 
 is O.E. and in a quotation among the commentaries 
 on SH. Hen. VI. from some contemporary author? 
 a drove is coupled with a puzzel, q. v. A. s. drof, 
 crenosus. 
 
 DROZE, v. to beat very severely. 
 
 DROZINGS, 5. a hearty drubbing. 
 
 DRUG, s. a strong carriage with four wheels for con- 
 veying heavy loads of timber. It has nothing to 
 do with dragging. Drugge is o. E. synonymous 
 with drudge. B. A. 
 
 DRUGSTER, s. a druggist, sc. N. 
 
 DUFFY-DO WS, s. pi. young pigeons not fully fledged. 
 
 DUDDLE, v. commonly used with the addition of 
 " up." " To duddle up" is to cover up closely and 
 warmly, with an unnecessary quantity of cloaths. 
 Ex. " How he do duddle his self up." 
 
 DUGGLE, v. to lie snug and close together, like pigs 
 or puppies. A. s. dygle, occultus. 
 
 DULLOR, s. a dull and moaning noise, or the tune 
 of some doleful ditty. Certainly the same word as 
 dolour, by what rhetoricians call a metonymy of
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 101 
 
 cause for effect. Nothing more likely to produce 
 moaning than dolour. 
 
 DUMP, s. a clumsy medal of lead cast in moist sand. 
 
 DUNDY, adj. of a dull colour, as dundy-grey, or 
 whatsoever other colour is to be coupled with A. s. 
 dunne, fuscus. 
 
 DUNK-HORN, s. the short blunt horn of a beast. 
 
 DUNK-HORNED, adj. sneaking ; shabby. One of the 
 numberless and merciless jests on cuckoldom ; ap- 
 plied to the poor cornuto, with an insinuation that 
 he would be glad, if possible, that his horns should 
 escape observation and ridicule. 
 
 DUNT, adj. stupid ; or dizzy. A dizzy calf with wa- 
 ter in the head is said to be dunt. 
 
 DUNT, v. to stupify. Isl. dunt, ictus. 
 
 DUTFIN, s. the bridle in cart-harness. 
 
 DUZZY, adj. dizzy ; an easy change of letters. 
 
 DVVAIN, DWAINY, adj. faint; sickly. The verb 
 dwine (unde dwindle) occurs in CH. and in BR. 
 A. s. divinan, tabescere. 
 
 D WILE, s. 
 
 1. A refuse lock of wool. 
 
 2. A mop made of them. 
 
 3. Any coarse rubbing rug. 
 
 It is certainly an awkward and rustic perversion of 
 the word doily. Not, indeed, in its modern sense, 
 of a small light cotton napkin, used at a dessert. 
 But it may not be amiss to observe, that a young 
 rustic lately caught, and taken into a country cler- 
 gyman's family to be trained as a servant, called 
 them dwiles. About 150 years ago, and probably 
 long before, doily was a sort of woollen stuff, of 
 K 3
 
 102 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 which, it appears from Congreve, that clothes were 
 occasionally, but rarely made. And so, we know, 
 they also were of drugget. Among its other uses, 
 doily might have beeen employed in our third 
 sense. In x. j. it is said to be named from its first 
 maker. It is more likely to be, by a very easy 
 change, from, Fr. toile. 
 
 DWINGE, v. to shrivel and dwindle. Apples are 
 dwinged by over-keeping. V. DWAIN, with which 
 it is certainly connected. 
 
 DYMOX, 5. a sturdy combatant; a stout pugilist; a 
 champion. A good hearty constitutional English 
 word, probably a very ancient one, and not at all 
 likely to be peculiar to us. 
 
 E. 
 
 EA, s. water. A genuine Saxon word, unchanged. 
 It is to be found, with some variety of form, in the 
 proper names of places in all parts of East Anglia; 
 but in its own proper form, perhaps only in the 
 fen-country, at the south-eastern angle of the 
 county of Norfolk, and the adjoining part of the 
 Isle of Ely. Popham's ea, and St. John's ea, are 
 water-courses cut for the drainage of different 
 parts of the Bedford level into the Ouse above 
 Lynn. Ea brink is the beginning of a very sud- 
 den curvature of that river, from which point a 
 new cut was made at a prodigious expence, and 
 finished in the year 1820, to improve the outfall of 
 the fen waters into Lynn Harbour, by giving them
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 103 
 
 a straight direction. It is commonly written and 
 printed; and generally pronounced by strangers 
 eau, as if the word had been borrowed from the 
 French, which it certainly was not. The language 
 must have been strangely poor, which wanted to 
 borrow a name for one of the elements of nature ! 
 and strangely fantastical, if, having one of its own, 
 of common origin, and very nearly of the same 
 form, it had preferred a foreign form. In the 
 country it is invariably pronounced ea, and is most 
 strictly A. s. ea, aqua. 
 
 EACHON, adj. in speaking of two. individuals we 
 commonly say ecichon (each one) as in speaking of 
 more than two, every one. It is o. E. Indeed, in 
 common pronunciation it may sound like eachin, or 
 even itchin. Ex. " I gave eachon of them half a 
 crown." 
 
 EAGER, s. a peculiarly impetuous and dangerous ag- 
 gravation of the tide in some rivers ; caused as it 
 should seem, either by the vehement confluence 
 of two streams, or by the channel becoming nar- 
 rower, shallower, or both. Camden speaks of it, 
 at the meeting of the Avon and the Severn with 
 great fury, and calls it higre. In T. j. it is said 
 to be " a tide swelling above another tide," ob- 
 servable in the river Severn. The same thing has 
 been observed of other rivers, as of the Rhone and 
 Saone, but when once it is determined which shall 
 be uppermost in a channel sufficient for both, it 
 does not seem as if this would account satisfacto- 
 rily for the continued violence and agitation of the 
 waters. We have an eager in our river Ouse, many
 
 104 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 miles above Lynn, near Dovvnham-bridge, where 
 the waters seem to " stand on an heap " along each 
 bank, leaving a very dangerous sort of charybdis 
 in the mid-stream. Here can be no super-induced 
 tide, as there is no confluence, and we must endea- 
 vour to account for the phenomenon in the seve- 
 ral manners above-mentioned. Such a tide also 
 exists in the river Nene, between Wisbeach and 
 Peterborough, in the Trent, and in the Ouse near 
 York. A. s. egor, vehemens. 
 
 EASTERN-SUNDAY, s. We do not suppose this 
 festival to have any oriental connexion. It seems 
 to have been the heathen feast of the Saxon god- 
 dess .Easier, transferred, on the introduction of 
 Christianity, to a Christian solemnity. The adjec- 
 jective eastern means in Saxon formation, " of or 
 belonging to Easter." It is, however, often used 
 alone, substantively, subaud Sunday or season. It 
 may not be impertinent, though not exactly appo- 
 site, to remark here, that the female baptismal 
 name, Esther or Hester (by no means an uncom- 
 mon one) is always pronounced Easter ; no doubt 
 the name of the Saxon goddess, handed down 
 without interruption or change, and confounded 
 with that of the Persian queen. 
 
 EAVE-LONG, adj. oblique; side-long; along the 
 edges, skirts, or eaves, as we often call them, of in- 
 closed grounds, particularly when they deviate 
 from straight lines. Hence, " eave-long work," is 
 mowing or reaping those irregular parts in which 
 the corn or grass cannot be laid in exact parallel 
 lines, y. SCUTE. A. s. efese, margo.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 105 
 
 EBBLE, s. the asp tree. It is a variation, scarcely 
 amounting to corruption, of abele, the name given 
 by Evelyn, and all our botanists to the white pop- 
 lar, another species of the same genus. They are 
 populus tremula and alba, Lin. 
 
 ECCLES-TREE, s. an axle-tree. T. writes it exle- 
 tree, and it is so in PR. PA. The metathesis is 
 easy. 
 
 EDDISH, s. aftermath. Not in Johnson, but added 
 by Todd, in different senses. This is ours. It is 
 o. E. and v. D. Nay, indeed, the very Saxon 
 word, for it appears that the sc in that language 
 had the same power as in the modern [talian, that 
 of sh. A. s. edisc, gramen serotinum. SK. 
 
 EITHER OF BOTH, Phr. either of the two. It is 
 used by Bishop Saunderson, and is in PR PA. 
 " Neither of both," follows of course, which we 
 also have. SH. in Love's Labour's Lost, has " either 
 of neither," which is not by any means so gram- 
 matical a phrase. 
 
 ELDERN, s. an elder tree. Properly, indeed, it is 
 an adjective, with tree understood. It is as old as 
 Piers Ploughman. 
 
 ELVISH, adj. peevish ; wantonly mischievous. These 
 senses are not given in the DICTT. under the word 
 elfish or elvish. But certainly we have them in per- 
 fect consistency with the character of the elves. 
 Ex. " The bees are very elvish to-day. 
 
 END, s. 
 
 1. Part ; division. Ex. " Pie has the best end of the 
 staff." " It cost me the best end of an hundred 
 pounds."
 
 106 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 2. The stems of a growing crop. Ex. " Here is a 
 plenty of ends, however it may fill the bushel." 
 
 ENDLESS, s. intestinum caecum; blind gut. 
 
 ENEMIS, adv. Of very obscure and and doubtful 
 meaning, like most of Sir Thomas Browne's words. 
 Hickes says it means lest (ne forte"), and he de- 
 rives it from Isl. einema, an adv. of exclusion, as 
 he says. It may mean, notwithstanding, from N. 
 Fr. nemis. Or it may be an adjective, signifying 
 variable, as emmis is in L. sc. which JAM. derives 
 from Isl. ymiss, varius. But as the word is quite 
 extinct, in is impossible to decide upon its meaning, 
 when it was in use. 
 
 ERRI WIGGLE, s. an earwig. If it be determined, 
 after Dr. Wallis and some other etymologists, that 
 eariuig comes from eruca, in like manner as periwig 
 from perruque, our word is certainly a great im- 
 provement on that formation. For it is not only 
 deduced in like manner, but in the very same man- 
 ner, to a letter. As from perruque comes perri- 
 tvig, so from eruque (eruca) comes eriwig ; and 
 the additional syllable makes it, very expressively, 
 a diminutive. It must not, however, be dissembled, 
 that a word thus happily formed, and even ele- 
 gantly finished, is exposed to so gross a corruption 
 as arrow-wiggle on narrow-wriggle ; some persons 
 fancying, forsooth, that the little creature may be 
 so called because it is fond of wriggling itself into 
 narrow crevices. In PR. PA. it is erevoyggle. In 
 the West it is called an ear-ivig. JEN. 
 
 E'RY, adj. every. A very common elision. Ex. My 
 e'ry-day clothes." x. B.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 107 
 
 ESH, s. the ash-tree. Literally Saxon. A. s. esc, 
 fraxinus. PR. PA. BR. 
 
 ETERNAL, adj. infernal ; damned. By a pretty ob- 
 vious association of ideas. Ex. " Oh, he is an eter- 
 nal rogue !" o. E. In SH. Othello, Emilia says, " I 
 will be hanged if some eternal villain," &c. So 
 would an East Anglian vixen say ; though, per- 
 haps, not one of Emilia's condition. 
 
 ETHER, v. to wattle, or intertwine, in making a staked 
 hedge. Otherwise to " bond a hedge," meaning, 
 particularly, the finishing part at top, of stouter 
 materials, which is to confine all the rest. A. s. 
 ether, sepes. T. and BR. edder. 
 
 EVEN-FLAVOURED, adj. unmixed ; unvaried; uni- 
 form. The word might possibly have a meaning, 
 if it were properly applied ; but in the only appli- 
 cation I have happened to hear of it, it is perfectly 
 nonsensical. It was currently used above thirty 
 years ago in High Suffolk. " An even-flavoured 
 day of rain ;" meaning a day of incessant rain. 
 
 E VERY-EACH, adj. alternate; every other. Possibly 
 from the o. E, everich. That word, however, is 
 merely every) with the Saxon termination. 
 
 EXE, s. an axe. PR. PA. A. s. ex, securis. 
 
 F. 
 FADGE, v. 
 
 1. To suit or fit. Two persons, two things, or two 
 parts of the same thing fadge well or ill together. 
 
 2. To succeed ; to answer expectation, o. E. " We
 
 108 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 will have, an this fadge not, an antic." SH. Love's 
 Labour Lost. 
 
 A. s. gefeagan, accommodare- 
 
 FAGOT, s. a contemptuous appellation of a woman. 
 Ex. "A lazy fagot" BR. The French, always ex- 
 celling us in politeness, have a sort of proverbial 
 saying, " Qu'il y a bien de difference entre une 
 femme et un fagot" But then they explain it by 
 adding, " que la plus grande difference est qu'une 
 femme parle toujours, et c[u'unjhgot ne dit mot." 
 
 HOG. 
 
 FAIRY-BUTTER, s. a species oftremella, of yellow- 
 ish colour and gelatinous substance, not very rarely 
 found on furze and broom. BR. describes it as 
 growing about the roots of old trees. This must 
 be some other species ; probably what is called in 
 some places witch's-butter ; of coarser texture and 
 colour, by no means so suitable to those delicate 
 beings the fairies, as that which we name after 
 them. 
 
 FAIRY-RINGS, s. circles, or parts of circles in the 
 grass; distinguished, according to Mr. Brockett 
 and other writers, by darker colour and ranker 
 growth, in which, as many believed of old, and 
 some believe still, the fairies are wont to dance. 
 In our country, they are most observable where 
 the grass is short and fine ; and the circular parts 
 are most distinguishable by the abundant growth 
 of a small esculent and well-flavoured fungus, called 
 the fairy-ring mushroom, agaricus orcades, Lin. 
 
 FALL, v. to let fall ; to make to fall. o. E. ." Mine eyes 
 fall fellowly drops," says Prospero in the Tempest.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 109 
 
 " I shall fall that tree next spring," say we. In 
 this instance, it is synonymous with fell, to which it 
 is certainly of kin. 
 
 FALLALS, s. pi. flaunting and flaring ornaments. If 
 any thing like derivation of the first syllable can be 
 offered, it may suffice. The second follows as mere 
 jingle. Lat. phalerce? 
 
 FALSE-ROOF, s. the space between the cieling of 
 the garret and the roof of the building. Where 
 Grose picked up the vaunce-roof, which he imputes 
 to us, and interprets a garret, it is impossible to 
 conceive. No such word has been found by the 
 most diligent inquiry. Perhaps his ear deceived 
 him. But his imagination deceived him still more, 
 when he fabricated the order from a Suffolk farmer 
 to his mauther, which is almost as unintelligible 
 to any farmer or mouther in that county, as it can 
 be to any of his general readers, to whom he offers 
 it as a specimen of our dialect ! 
 
 FAMBLE-CROP, s. the first stomach in ruminating 
 animals. To J amble in o. E. signified to mumble 
 or speak imperfectly. It may have sufficient con- 
 nexion with chewing imperfectly, to afford some 
 explanation of our word. Dan.famler, haesitare. 
 
 FANG, s. a fin. From the fancied resemblance of 
 their pointed ends to long teeth, but improperly ; 
 for those teeth only are fangs by which an animal 
 catches and holds its prey ; an use which probably 
 no fish are able to make of their fins. 
 
 FANGAST, s. a marriageable maid. Sir Thomas 
 Browne. The word is not now known, and is there- 
 vot. i. L
 
 110 
 
 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 fore given with Ray's interpretation and etymon. 
 A. s.fangan, capere, and gast, anfor. 
 
 FAPES, s. pi. gooseberries. Variously called also 
 feaps,feabs,fabes, and thapes ; all abbreviations of 
 feaberries. But these names are with us applicable 
 in the immature state of the fruit only. Nobody 
 ever talks of a ripe Jape. It is observable that the 
 excellent market of our East Anglian metropolis 
 is well supplied with Japes till the Guild-day ; which 
 is the Tuesday before June 22. On that day a 
 f ape-tart is an indispensable regale at every table ; 
 and after it, only gooseberries are to be found, 
 whether ripe or unripe ; perhaps, in minute strict- 
 ness, when ripe they are goose-gogs. q. v. As it 
 is one of the welcome first fruits of the year, SK. 
 would derive it, not improperly from A. s.fean, 
 gaudere. R. S.E. c. P. B. 
 
 FARE, v. to seem. Ex. " She fared sick ; " "they 
 fare to be angry." PE. 
 
 FARE, s. a litter of pigs. Farrow is commonly used in 
 this sense, butfare is the better word. A. s.fearh, 
 porcellus. R. s. E. c 
 
 FARMER, s. a term of distinction commonly applied, 
 in Suffolk, to the eldest son of the occupier of a 
 farm. He is addressed and spoken of, by the la- 
 bourers, as " the farmer." The occupier himself is 
 called master. A labourer speaking to the son 
 would say, " Pray, farmer, do you know where my 
 master is ? " Or one labourer would ask another, 
 " Did my master set out that job ? " And would 
 be answered, " No, my master did'nt, but the far- 
 mer did."
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 11 X 
 
 FARROW, adj. barren. A cow not producing a 
 calf, is for that year called a farrow cow. Yield- 
 ing no profit, she may be said to lie fallow. In 
 Suffolk she would be called ghast. 
 
 FASGUNTIDE. s. shrove-tide ; which is interpreted 
 fasting, time. This is given by Blount, in his " Dic- 
 tionary of Hard Words," 1680, as a Norfolk word. 
 If it were so then, it is like many of Sir Thomas 
 Browne's words of nearly the same age, very little, 
 if at all, known now. Perhaps Blount was misin- 
 formed. The word, however, to do it justice, has 
 somewhat of a Saxon air ; and may have been in 
 use. Indeed may be so still ; though inquiry has 
 not detected it. 
 
 FAT-HEN, s. a wild pot-herb, very well worth cultiva- 
 tion. It is as good as spinach if its grittiness be 
 well washed off, and it be dressed in the same way. 
 Chenopodium album, Lin. 
 
 FEATHER-PIE, s. a hole in the ground, filled with 
 feathers fixed on strings, and kept in motion by 
 the wind. An excellent device to scare birds. 
 
 FEFT, v. to persuade, or endeavour to persuade, says 
 Ray in pref. to R. N. c. Yet he adds that in his 
 own county, Essex, it meant, to " put off wares ;" 
 but that he was to seek for an etymon. So are 
 we. But it is of no importance. It is one of Sir 
 Thomas Browne's words become obsolete. 
 
 FEGARY, s. a whim, a freak, a toy. The same as 
 vagary, o. E. 
 
 FEISTY, adj. fusty ; but fusty is the corruption. 
 Feisty is the original, and a most expressive word. 
 
 FEIST, FEISTINESS, s. fustiness. Ex. "This cask 
 has a feist in it. " P. B. has this word, or as he
 
 112 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 spells it Joist, in its primitive Saxon sense, A. s. 
 Jist, flatus ventris. 
 FELLOE, s. the felly of a wheel. A. s.felga, canthus. 
 
 O.E. B. TR. 
 
 FELT, s. a thick matted growth of weeds, spreading 
 by their roots, as couch grass. Ex. < This land 
 is all a felt" Felt is a sort of manufacture made 
 by compacting and condensing the materials toge- 
 ther without weaving, as that of which hats are 
 made. The metaphor is strong. Indeed, several 
 Saxon names of weeds have the prefix felt to their 
 names. A. s.felt, pannus coactilis. 
 
 FEN-NIGHTINGALE, s. a frog. Otherwise called 
 a March-bird. It is in that month that frogs are 
 vocal. 
 
 FEW, adj. little. It is a plural adjective, used with 
 a singular substantive in two instances only. We 
 talk of " a Jew broth " and " a Jew gruel." In 
 all other cases we use the word like other people. 
 But our usage is o. E. In a sermon at Paul's 
 Cross in 1550, a curious account is given of the 
 College commons at Cambridge in those days. <f At 
 ten of the clocke they go to dynner, whereas they 
 be content with a peny pyece of byefe amongst 
 nil, having a few potage made of the brothe of 
 the same byefe, with salt and otemele and nothing 
 els." Tempora mutantur ! as our young academics 
 know, and so do their parents, to their cost. In- 
 deed, in this instance, it is very reasonable they 
 should be changed. The usage is not only o. E. but 
 modern L. sc. They talk of " a Jew parritch." 
 And it is not unworthy of remark, that JAM. himself,
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 113 
 
 under the article " Bishop's-foot," says, " it is said 
 
 the Bishop's foot has been in the broth when they 
 
 are singed." It is moreover modern Northern 
 
 English. BR. 
 FIE, v. to cleanse out a ditch, a pond, or any other 
 
 receptacle of mud or filth. Otherwises/ay, or fey. 
 
 Isl. fcegia, purgare. 
 FIGHTING-COCKS, s.pl. the spikes of the different 
 
 species of plantain, with which boys play a game 
 
 so called, sn. 
 FIL ANDS, s. pi. field-lands, or rather filde-lands. O.E. 
 
 Tracts of uninclosed arable land. 
 FILE, v. 
 
 1. To foil. 
 
 2. To defile ; the simple for the compound, as in stry 
 for destroy, and some others, o. E. and L. so. 
 w. w. R. 
 
 A.s.fylan, polluere. 
 
 FILL-BELLS, s. pi. the chain-tugs to the collar of a 
 cart-horse, by which he draws. 
 
 FILL-HORSE, FILLER, s. the horse which goes in 
 the shafts. In a regular team, the order is, 
 the fore-horse, the lark-horse, the pin-horse, and 
 the Jill-horse. Perhaps more correctly the thill- 
 horse, or the thitter. Buty is very commonly sub- 
 stituted in pronunciation for th ; as we sometimes 
 call a thistle a fistle. SK. calls fill-horse " ultimus 
 ordinis equorum." In Suffolk, the horses in a 
 team are distinguished by the names of fore-horse, 
 fore-lash, hand-horse, 
 
 FILLER, v. 
 1. To go behind.
 
 114- VOCABULARY OF 
 
 2. To draw back. The figurative use is clear enough. 
 FIMBLE, v. 
 
 1. To touch lightly and frequently with the ends of 
 the fingers. A gentle diminutive of fumble. 
 
 2. To pass through without cutting. Ex. " my scythe 
 Jtmble the grass." 
 
 FIRE-NEW, adj. new from the fire ; newly forged. 
 
 o. E. SH. (passim.) 
 FIRE-PAN, s. a fire-shovel. The word is in Johnson, 
 
 but not in this sense, in which it seems provincial. 
 
 Be that as it may, it is literally Saxon. A. s.fyr- 
 
 panne, batillum. 
 
 FIT, adj. ready. Ex. " Come, stir, make yourself^." 
 FITTER, v. to shift from one foot to the other, w. c. 
 FIVE-FINGERS, s. pi. oxlips. Primula elatior. 
 FIZZ, v. to make a hissing sound like fermenting 
 
 liquors. Isi.Jisa, sibilare. 
 FIZMER, v. to fidget unquietly, and make a great 
 
 stir about some trifle, making little or no progress. 
 
 Formed, perhaps, from the slight rustling noise 
 
 produced by these petty agitations. 
 FLACK, v. to hang loose. Akin to flake. 
 FLACK, s. a blow, particularly with something loose 
 
 and pliant. 
 FLACKET. s. a tall, flaunting wench, whose apparel 
 
 seems to hang loose about her. 
 FLACKY, adj. hanging loose. 
 FLAG, s. 
 
 1. A portion of the surface of heathy land turned 
 up by the spade, and heaped to dry for fuel. The 
 more it abounds in roots of ericce, &c. the better 
 fuel it makes. 
 
 2. The surface of a clorer lay of the second year,
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 115 
 
 turned up by the plough. The wheat for the next 
 year's crop is dibbled into the flag. 
 
 FLAGELUTE, s. a very small rent or hole in a gar- 
 ment. Perhaps from resemblance to the small per- 
 forations in a flageolet. 
 
 FLAP, s. a slight stroke or touch, Ex. " I have got 
 a flap of cold." The cold has touched or struck 
 me. Be]g.flabbe, colaphus. 
 
 FLAP- JACK,*. 
 
 1. A broad flat piece of pastry. V. APPLE JACK. 
 
 2. A flat thin joint of meat, as the breast of a lean 
 sheep or calf. JEN. 
 
 FLAPPER, s. a young wild duck which has just taken 
 
 wing, but is unable to fly far. 
 FLAPS, s. pi. large broad mushrooms. 
 FLARNECKING, adj. flaunting with vulgar ostenta- 
 tion. Intensive of flare. 
 FLASH, v. To flash a hedge is to cut off the lowef 
 
 parts of the bushes which overhang the bank or 
 
 ditch. 
 FLAZZ ARD, s. a stout broad faced woman dressed in 
 
 a loose and flaring manner. It may be from flash ; 
 
 or perhaps a word of arbitrary fabrication. 
 FLEACHES, s.pl. the portions into which timber is 
 
 cut by the saw. Another form of flitch. 
 FLEAK, s. a flake. The same word as N. supposes. 
 
 We talk of "fleaks of snow." o. E. 
 FLECK, s.the down of hares or rabbits torn off by the 
 
 dogs. Dryden hasflix in the same sense. A. s.flex, 
 
 linum. 
 FLECKED, FLECKERED, adj. dappled ; speckled 
 
 with differences of colour. In SH. Romeo and
 
 116 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 Juliet) it is applied to the different shades of grey in 
 very early morning ; which accords exactly with 
 our use of the word. BR. Isl.Jlecha, discolor. 
 
 FLEET, v. to skim the cream from the milk. A. s. 
 Jtete, flos lactis. 
 
 FLEET, s. a channel filled by the tide, but left very 
 shallow and narrow at low water. This seems to be 
 the proper sense ; and the word is thus used at 
 Lynn. But there appear to be some fleets on the, 
 Suffolk coast which do not answer this description, 
 as Bawdsey Fleet. It seems, however, to be con- 
 firmed by the adjective ; and those fleets may not 
 now be what they were many centuries ago, when 
 they received the name. 
 
 FLEET, adj. shallow. A dish or a basin ; a ditch or a 
 pond ; or anything else of little depth, is said to be 
 Jleet. BR. 
 
 FLEETING- DISH, s. a skimming dish to take off" the 
 cream from the milk. 
 
 FLEGGED, FUGGED, part, fledged. N. hasfligge, 
 which he says is " apparently for fledge." We are 
 certain that it is. w. c. BR. Fligge (as of birds), 
 PR. PA. Sui.-G.^%gY7, volare. 
 
 FLET-CHEESE, s. cheese made of skimmed milk. 
 This is the name by which the celebrated Suffolk 
 cheese rs universally called in its native county. 
 
 FLETCHES, s. pi. green pods of pease ; from some 
 resemblance they are supposed to bear to an ar- 
 row. Fr.fleche. 
 
 FLET-MILK, 5. the skimmed milk. SK. has fatten 
 milk, and derives it from Belg. vlieten, cremorem 
 lactis adimere. w. c. BR. Fletofmilk. PR. PA.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 117 
 
 FLICK, S. 
 
 1. A smart stinging slap. 
 
 2. The outer fat of the hog, which is cured for bacon. 
 In Suffolk this is called < thejlick," and the rest of 
 the carcase " the bones." 
 
 3. A flitch, either of bacon, or of sawn plank ; and a 
 better form it. 
 
 A. s.Jlicce, succidia. O. J?r.Jligue de lard. BR. 
 
 FLIGGER, v. to quiver with convulsive motion. It 
 is in CH. and in SH. where it is spelled flicker, and 
 more properly, as it must come from A. s.jliccerian, 
 motare alas. Flicker w. w. R. BR. 
 
 FL1GGERS, s. pi. the common flag, Iris pseudacorus, 
 Lin. so called from the motion of its leaves by the 
 slightest impulse of the air. 
 
 FLIT, v. to remove from one house to another. Dan. 
 Jlytter, commigro. CH. R. N. c. T. B. BR. 
 
 FLIZZOMS, s.pl. flying particles, or very small flakes 
 in bottled liquors. The bees-wings, by which some 
 persons of fine taste prove the age of their port, 
 are nothing butjlizzoms. R. N. c. 
 
 FLOP, adv. souse ; plump ; flat. Ex. His foot slip- 
 ped, and down he camej#qp." 
 
 FLUE, adj. shallow. 
 
 FLUFF, s. any light, flying, downy, gossamer-like 
 stuff. A. s.Jloh, fragmen. 
 
 FLUSH, s. the stream from a mill-wheel. Teut.j&m, 
 fluxus. 
 
 FLUSH, adj. even; on a level. As a stream, uncon. 
 fined, will rise to the level of that from which it 
 was parted. 
 
 FLY-TIME, s. the season in which flies are trouble- 
 some or mischievous.
 
 118 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 FOG, s. long grass, growing in pastures, in late sum- 
 mer or autumn; not fed down, but allowed to 
 stand through the winter, and yielding early spring 
 feed. By its length and thickness, the outer part 
 forms a cover or sort of thatch for the lower, which 
 is kept fresh and juicy, at least through a mild 
 winter. This seems to entitle it to SK. derivation, 
 Ital. affbgare. R. N. c. PE. w. c. BR. 
 
 FOGGER, s. a huckster ; a petty chapman carrying 
 small wares from village to village. 
 
 FOISON, s. succulency ; natural nutritive moisture, as 
 in herbage. Ex. " There is nofoison in this hay." 
 We do not use it in its general sense of abundance. 
 It is sometimes most perversely mispronounced poi- 
 son ! Fr.foison. R. N. c. L. sc. 
 
 FOISONLESS, devoid of foison. sc. N. 
 
 FOKY, adj. bloated ; unsound ; soft and woolly. Ex. 
 " &foiky turnip," 
 
 FOLD-PRITCH, *. a heavy pointed iron, to make 
 holes in the ground to receive the toes of hurdles. 
 A. s. priccan, pungere. 
 
 FOLLOW, v. to practice for a livelihood. Ex. " He 
 follow jobbing, shoe-making, tailoring." If it be 
 said that a man follows farming, or any more re- 
 spectable occupation, it must be understood to be 
 on a narrow scale. And in general, indeed, it 
 seems implied that he is not very likely to overtake 
 what lie follows. 
 
 FOND, adj. luscious ; fulsome ; disagreeably sweet, in 
 taste or in smell. 
 
 FOOTING, s. sum paid down ; or sometimes an enter- 
 tainment given, on entering upon a new office or 
 situation.
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 119 
 
 FOOTING-TIME, s. the time of recovery from a 
 lying-in, of getting on foot again. R. s. E. c. 
 
 FORCE, v. A strange sort of neutro-passive. Ex. " I 
 forced to go." I was obliged, I could not help. 
 It is o. E. It occurs in the curious gossiping 
 Diary of Pepys. 
 
 FORECAST, s. forethought. PE. 
 
 FORECAST, v. to think before. It is an excellent 
 quality in a servant to "forecast his work ; " to 
 think what he is to do next. 
 
 FORE-SUMMERS, s. the forepart of a cart. This 
 kind of cart was some years ago much used in 
 Norfolk, but it is now wearing out. A sort of plat- 
 form projecting over the shafts was called " the 
 fore-summers." 
 
 FORFEITS, s. pi. SH. in Measure for Measure, men- 
 tions "forfeits in a barber's shop." They exist to 
 this day in some, perhaps in many village shops. 
 They are penalties for handling the razors, &c. ; 
 offences very likely to be committed by lounging 
 clowns, waiting for their turn to be scraped on a 
 Saturday night, or Sunday morning. They are 
 still, as of old, " more in mock than mark." Cer- 
 tainly more mischief might be done 200 years ago, 
 when the barber was also a surgeon. We have 
 also forfeits in every inn yard, payable in beer, by 
 those who dabble in the water cistern, carry candles 
 into the stables, &c. 
 
 FORGIVE, v. to begin to thaw. By no means an in- 
 expressive metaphor. 
 
 FORHINDER, v. to prevent. It is not synonymous 
 with hinder, awkwardly eked out with another syl-
 
 120 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 lable. The Saxon fore has the same effect in Saxon 
 words, as the Latin prce, or the Greek ?rpo, in words 
 derived from those languages. And, as the word 
 hinder is synonymous with let, why is not for -hinder 
 as good as forlet, which was formerly used by the 
 best authors, though now it has disappeared from 
 general use? 
 
 FORK, s. the lower half of the body. A long legged 
 person is said to be " long in the fork." 
 
 FORLORN, adj. worthless ; reprobate ; abandoned, 
 Ex. " a forlorn fellow," is one with whom nobody 
 would have any concern. " A forlorn tyke," is a 
 sad dog ! the DICTT. give simply the sense of 
 " destitute ; forsaken," without implying any moral 
 reason. Some of their authorities ( V. T.J and N. G.) 
 would very well bear ours, which is the true Saxon 
 sense. A. s.fore-loren, perditus. 
 
 FOUR-EYED, adj. Applied to dogs which have a dis- 
 tinct mark over each eye, of a different colour ; 
 for the most part tan upon black ; very common in 
 in the smooth terrier, and the spaniel of King 
 Charles's breed, as it is called. The late worthy pre- 
 sident of the Linnaean Society, finding at Monaco, 
 a dog so marked, and called from that circum- 
 stance, " quattr' occhi," notices it in his Continen- 
 tal Tour, as an ingenious aptness of nomenclature. 
 Had his ears been more accustomed to the vulgar 
 tongue of his native county, he would have found 
 the very same at home. Let us, therefore, claim 
 our share in our distinguished countryman's praise 
 for ingenuity. One who wears spectacles is also 
 said to be four-eyed.
 
 Hi 
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 121 
 
 FOURS, s. pi. the afternoon refreshment of labourers 
 in harvest. Generally made a double pluraljburses. 
 
 FOUTRY, adj. paltry ; trumpery ; despicable. The 
 DICTT. have fouty as synonymous with the Fr. 
 fouteux, and from a dirty Fr. derivation. Our's is 
 the better word. It is most likely thejbutra, often 
 occurring in sir. one of the many Spanish words 
 colloquially current in his time, but which have 
 almost entirely disappeared. A surviving instance 
 is worth preserving. " AJbutra for thine office," 
 says ancient Pistol to Justice Shallow, when he 
 comes to announce the accession of King Hal. 
 It was then become o.foutry office. 
 
 FOY, 5. a supper given by the owners of a fishing 
 vessel at Yarmouth, to the crew in the beginning 
 of the season. It is otherwise called a bending-foy, 
 from the bending of the sails or nets, as a ratifica- 
 tion of the bargain. It must be from Fr.foi. 
 
 FOZY, adj. very nearly, if not exactly the same, as 
 FOKY, q. v. A. s. tuoseg, succi plenus. 
 
 FRACK, v. to abound ; to swarm ; to be thronged, 
 or crowded together. Ex. " The church wasfrack- 
 ing full ;" " my apple-trees are as full as they can 
 frackr 
 
 FRAIL, v. to fret or wear out cloth- Fr.frayer. 
 
 FRAME, v. to speak or behave affectedly ; to shape 
 the language and demeanour to an occasion of ce- 
 remony. " Framed manners " is L. sc. 
 
 FRAME-PERSON, s. a visitor whom it is thought 
 necessary to receive ceremoniously. A. s. framd^ 
 extorris. The very word Jrem'd is in w. c. and BR. 
 
 FRAMPLED, adj, cross ; ill-humoured. Mrs. Quickly 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 122 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 in Merry Wives of Windsor, tells Falstaff that Mrs. 
 Ford led aframpold life with her jealous husband." 
 R. s. E. c. 
 
 FRAZLE, v. to unravel or rend cloth. In the north, 
 a.Jrize of paper is half a quarter of a sheet. PE. 
 
 FRAZLINGS, s.pl. threads of cloth, torn or unra- 
 velled. O. Fr.fraisle, fragil. 
 
 FRECKENS, s. pi. freckles. The ancient word. A. s. 
 fracn, turpitudo. 
 
 FREELI-FRAILIES, s. pi light, unsubstantial delica- 
 cies for the table j frothy compliments ; empty 
 prate ; frippery ornaments ; almost any sort of trum- 
 pery meant for finery. It may have come (with a 
 little license of decoration, well befitting it) from 
 two words in Le Roux Diet. Com.frehi, to which 
 he gives vaurien as a synonym, andfreluches, niaise- 
 ries. To both he affixes v. 1. for vieux langage. 
 
 FRENCH, adj. What the precise meaning may be 
 (if any such it have) cannot be ascertained. It 
 seems to mean, quite generally and indefinitely, 
 as bad as bad can be. Any extreme provocation, 
 severe disappointment, or keen distress, is enough 
 to make one French ! A word very comprehensi- 
 bly Anti-Gallican. 
 
 FRENCHMAN, s. any man, of any country, who can- 
 not speak English ; as any one who does not un- 
 derstand East Anglain, is a shireman. 
 
 FRESH, 5. home-brewed table beer, drawn from the 
 tap. 
 
 FRESH, adj. tipsey. BR. 
 
 FRESHER, s. a small frog. 
 
 FRESHES, s. pi. waters flowing down rivers after
 
 EAST ANGLIA. 123 
 
 heavy rains, to the general outfall, and overflow- 
 ing the neighbouring country in their passage. BR. 
 
 FRIGHTFUL, adj. apt to take fright. Certainly 
 more distinctly expressive than fearful, which 
 would be generally used, yet the effect of substi- 
 tution is very ludicrous. Ex. " Lauk ! Miss, how 
 frightful you are ! " says a homely wench, when 
 Miss screams at the sight of a toad or a spider. 
 CH. has dredeful in the same sense, which, to mo- 
 dern ears would sound more strangely still. 
 
 FRIMIC ATE, v. to play the fribble, to affect delicacy. 
 A word jocularly fabricated, perhaps, but not ar- 
 bitrarily, or without fair pretence to derivation. 
 From, frem, frim, is easy transition, v. frame ; or 
 it may be from the Yr.frimer, which Le Roux has 
 in much the same sense, and calls it " mot de pay- 
 san." A home-bred East Anglian rustic might 
 think strange and outlandish persons, whether 
 Frenchmen or Shiremen, particularly given tofri- 
 micate. 
 
 FRIZE, v. to freeze. It forms its imp. and part, re- 
 gularlyyHz. o. E. A. s.frysan, gelare. 
 
 FROG-SPIT, s. V. CUCKOO-SPIT. 
 
 FROISE, s. a pancake, o. E. Lidgate. "Fr.froisser. 
 
 FROUZY, adj. blouzy ; with disordered and uncombed 
 hair. In its more usual sense frouziness is offen- 
 sive to the nose ; not so with us, but to the eyes. 
 
 FROWY, adj. stale ; on the point of turning sour from 
 being over kept. It is most commonly applied to 
 milk, or compositions of it. In the second passage 
 quoted in N. o. from SP. it is applied to grass in 
 pasture, j and so it may be with us. This word.
 
 124 VOCABULARY OF 
 
 and the proceeding, are both connected with/rotv, 
 which, according to GR. signifies in the north, a 
 slut. 
 
 FRUGAL, adj. the reverse of COSTLY, q. v. This 
 word seems quite distinct from frugal in its current 
 sense. Instances may, indeed, be produced in dif- 
 ferent languages, of the same word bearing even 
 opposite senses, under different circumstances. 
 The word sacer, in Latin is a very familiar one, 
 sometimes meaning hallowed, sometimes accursed ; 
 which sense it bears in any particular passage, 
 must be determined by the context or the occa- 
 sion. But in each case its etymon is the same. 
 On the contrary, our word, now under considera- 
 tion, is likely to be of an origin very different from 
 that of the common word, with which it agrees in 
 every letter. " Good woman," quoth the village 
 doctress, " is your child costive ? " " Costly ! 
 Ma'am, no, quite the contrary, sadly frugal indeed!" 
 So much for modern use. But have we any thing 
 like authority for it in o. E. ? We will have re- 
 course to SH. In the Merry Wives of Windsor, 
 Mrs. Page, on receiving Falstaff's love letter, pon- 
 ders " What unweighed behaviour he could have 
 picked out of her conversation." She presently 
 concludes, "I was, then, too frugal of my mirth. 
 Heaven forgive me ! " She could not possibly mean 
 too sparing. It would be nonsense; she must mean 
 too free. The commentators are puzzled , and no 
 wonder. Dr. Johnson says, he once thought " not" 
 ought to be inserted before " too." But it seems 
 his second thoughts were better, for he has not in- 
 serted it in the text. The puzzling word frugal
 
 EAST ANGL1A. 125 
 
 stands alone in all the old editions. Now, without 
 presuming to unsettle the derivation of the common 
 word frugal, from the Latin frugi or fruges, or 
 whatever may best please Vossius, or whom else it 
 may concern, we may look at home for that of our 
 frugal and Shakspeare's ; and feel pretty confident 
 that we find it, with only a very common change 
 of one vowel. To adapt it to its Saxon origin, and 
 to distinguish from a word of meaning so different, 
 it might be spelled frugle. A. s.frig, liber. 
 
 FRUMP, s. a sour, ill-humoured person ; more par- 
 ticularly an old woman. 
 
 FRUMPLE, v. to rumple ; crease ; or wrinkle. 
 
 FRUMPY, adj. having a sour and ill-humoured look ; 
 we do not include the ideas of mockery and insult 
 as the DICTT. do. 
 
 FULL-DUE, s. final acquittance. Ex. " I shall soon 
 have done with Mr. A ; or I shall go away from 
 B. for & full-due? for good and all. 
 
 FULL-FLOPPER, s. a young bird sufficiently .fea- 
 thered to leave the nest. 
 
 FUNK. s. touch-wood. 
 
 FURLONG, s. a division of an uninclosed cornfield, 
 of which th; several subdivisions are numbered in 
 the map, and registered in the field book. 
 
 FURTHER, adj. comp. A word which can only be ex- 
 plained by examples of its use, which is very com- 
 mon. Ex. " If I do so I will be further ;" meaning 
 T will never do it. "I wish that fellow further;" 
 i. e. I would I were well rid of him." 
 
 FUZZY, adj. rough and shaggy. 
 
 M3
 
 
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