On this day 146 years ago…..

…. Magistrates heard a case brought against a resident of Muckley Corner near Lichfield. Mr Eglinton, also resident at Muckley Corner, had put his hand in his pocket and bought a few glasses of whisky for a neighbour down on his luck. When he was found in a drunken state he was charged and thus in court, where magistrates fined him and his previously clean record had been spoiled.

Once again Mr Eglinton came to his rescue and paid his fine. However, magistrates did not think much of his benevolence and urged the police officers in the court to charge him with aiding and abetting, which they did. Eglinton was fined ten shillings and charged the costs for both cases.

Now I have the perfect excuse for not buying anyone a drink ever again.

Criminal?

Esther Dyson was in court in York on 31st March 1831 for cutting off her child's head and throwing the body behind a dam to conceal the evidence. She had been deaf and dumb since birth and it was claimed she was insane. At the trial the judge asked the jury to consider one point, was her apparent inability to comprehend what was happening real or not? Was this a good act, or was this God's will? They decided it was the latter and she was acquitted, Yet later a Mrs Ann Briggs came forward and claimed she was more than capable of understanding, she had known her for eight or nine years, and should not have been acquitted. Esther was sent to West Riding Lunatic Asylum in Wakefield where she is reported to have performed tasks associated with a housemaid without trouble until her death on 2nd March 1869 at the age of 62.

Bloodbath

September 26th 1817 was a Friday. A Mr Owen went to visit his sister at her home in Gibraltar Row, Prospect Place, St George’s Fields, where she lived with her husband, Mr Jones. Here the maidservant Mary Berry let him in, whereupon Owen burst into the kitchen where the couple were eating and proceeded to attack Mr Jones with a large knife, resulting in large wounds to the head and neck. Mrs Jones and the maid attempted to pull Owen off, resulting in wounds to their hands and arms. With blood still dripping from her wounds, the maid ran into the street screaming for help.

A former sailor by the name of Hopkins heard her cries and rushed to her aid together they ran back into the building. Here they found Owen kneeling on his brother-in-law, the later now bleeding from several wounds including a deep cut to the abdomen. Hopkins managed to dislodge and disarm Hopkins and dragged the injured Jones into the street. Owen then produced a second knife and leapt upon his own sister, first plunging the blade between two ribs, then slashing open her forehead, and then shoving the knife into her mouth ripped the side of her face open to the ear and also split her tongue wide open. The maid rushed to the aid of her mistress but was also set upon and with cuts to Mary Berry’s arms.

Although both women were quite faint through loss of blood they somehow managed to drag themselves into the street and the protection of their neighbours, who took them into their own homes to await medical attention, albeit the likelihood of their successful recovery was, at best, slight. By now the large and powerfully-built Owen had barricaded himself inside the house loudly threatening anyone in earshot the, too, would be butchered should they attempt to gain access. This violent individual was now defending himself against at least two hundred individuals in the street.

When the police arrived they planned to storm the building. With volunteers aplenty armed with pokers, clothes-props and bludgeons, a vast number entered through the windows and doors both front and rear, even bringing ladders to crash through upstairs windows. Appearing at one of the upstairs windows, Owen was seen whetting one knife on the other until felled by (of all things) a clothes-prop and subsequently pounded by a multitude of fists and weaponry – although he continued to fight back ‘mightily’ until disarmed. With cuts to both hands, the now overpowered Owen was tethered at hands and feet with strong rope and carried bodily from the place, albeit still ranting and raging like a madman.

The injured were taken to St Thomas’s Hospital while, with his now wounds bandaged, Owen imprisoned. Later it was revealed this horrendous attack was started by Mr Jones when he sued Mr Owen for custody of Owen’s two young sons, believing they would be better off living with the Jones family. Owen had won the case and retained custody of his children, but the stress and worry had resulted in the death of his wife (just how this came about is not recorded). It had been earlier of the day of the attack that her funeral had taken place and, having been taken to the house of a friend where they had given him food and drink, the now drink-enraged Owen had gone into a frenzy as none had ever seen in the city of Lichfield.

Sudan Place Names Explained

Having blogged samples of my books on English place names and also examined the etymologies of the nations of the world and their respective capitals I thought it time I cast my net a little wider. As English place names share some links to other tongues it would be interesting to see if any of the elements contributing to our place names could be found elsewhere. Continuing an alphabetical tour of the world and a look at the largest Sudan cities.

Omdurman is from the Arabic Umm Durman and translates as 'mother of Durman', however we have no idea who she may have been and what role she played.

Khartoum's origins are uncertain, although most often given as from Arabic khutum meaning 'trunk' or 'hose' and thus referring to the strip of land between the Blue Nile and White Nile before they meet. Others cite the Dinka tongue, where khar-toum would refer to 'where the rivers meet' and thus the same geographical feature, albeit looked at from a different angle. Captain J. A. Grant thought the name came from the Arabic qurtum 'the safflower', known to science as Carthamus tinctorius, grown extensively here as it was used as a fuel. Some point to the Nubian word Agartum 'the abode of Atum', while others look to the Beja language and see hartoom 'meeting'.

Nyala comes from the Daju tongue and means 'the place of chatting'.

Port Sudan takes the name of the nation, itself coming from Arabic bilad as-sudan and meaning 'the land of the blacks'.

El-Obeid comes from the Arabic al-Abyad meaning 'white'.

El-Gadarif is derived from the Arabic Alli qada-Ye-rif meaning 'he who has finished selling or buying should leave'. This comes from the announcement at the end of market day, when Arab noamdic tribes would return to the plains.

Al-Fashir took its name from the word fashir, an itinerant court.

Ar-Rahad is from the Arabic and means 'the water shrine'.

Kosti was founded shortly after 1899 by the Greek merchant Konstantinos 'Kostas' Mourikis and named in his honour.

Suakin was known as U Suk which may be from the Arabic suq or 'market'.

Note the spellings of the places are English as the piece is written in English.

A Tale of Misery

John and Sarah-Ann Langley lived in Tamworth Street, Lichfield in 1904 when hauled before the authorities charged with the neglect of five-year-old John Langley. The case attracted a lot of interest from the people of Lichfield. Although it may seem quite extraordinary today, the court was crowded, with large numbers gathered outside, from the moment the session opened at 11am until the judge ended proceedings at 11:45pm. It should be noted they did hold for both lunch and tea for a total of 75 minutes (how very cricket!)

John senior had had four children from a former marriage, the youngest Arthur Langley was six years old. His latest wife, Sarah-Ann, had several children by a former marriage, three of which were still under her care at this time. Back in July 1903 John Langley had visited a Dr Rowland and said nothing could be done to stop John junior's odd habits, including going into the streets picking up refuse and eating it.

As a result the child was admitted to the workhouse. Notes show he was a good weight and exhibited no odd behaviour nor was he seen as troublesome, although below average size for his age and academically inferior to his peers. He stayed at the workhouse until the end of August 1903, mainly because of an unexplained weakness to one arm, during which time he seemed fine and none saw any reason for concern following his release.

On December 22nd 1903 Dr Rowland was again called to the Langley's home. Since his last examination in July the child had certainly lost weight, he noted abrasions to the neck, small of the back, the left knee and bruising to the right thigh. Again taken to stay in the workhouse, young John Langley's condition could easily be explained by normal childhood bumps and knocks. Furthermore, although he had lost weight there was no evidence of him overeating, as would be expected if he had been starved. Yet it was noted that, while no sure diagnosis could be given, in general the child seemed unwell.

The father protested at the possible return of the boy to their care - he complaining young John could not be controlled, he frequently wandered out into the street, and regularly found to be feeding on offal or horse dung (commonplace sights in town streets at the time) - the child thus remained under the supervision of the workhouse and at this time magistrates began to take an interest despite the five-year-old's weight having increased from an appalling low of just 29 pounds.

A baker employed by Langley was called to give evidence and, finally the truth began to emerge. He spoke of how he would see the boy tethered by way of a muffler tied to the chain supporting the swing from 9am until midday. This he saw from September onwards, the child wearing inadequate clothing for the cold weather. He also spoke of the boy being tied up there by his sister almost as soon as the household had awakened.

At mealtimes he could be seen peering in through the window, one sister may pass him a crust on occasions but was more often to be seen eating our of the swill bucket or picking crumbs from the floor of the back yard. Another employee, one John Millington, had taken pity on the boy and passed him food, sending him to the bottom of the yard to eat in secret. The boy's father was witnessed knocking him across the yard on a number of occasions, apparently for no reason, further torture imparted by tethering his left arm to his left leg. Unlike the other children of the house he wore no cap, not a single button sewn on his jacket, he wore no muffler nor scarf, leaving his neck exposed to the elements.

Fearing repercussions he only spoke to the father concerning his paralysed arm, warning both him and his wife to take him to a doctor. Langley told him it was pointless, the paralysis the result of an illness when he was just two years of age. He pitied the child, saying he was heard to cry a number of times, unable to climb down from the swing without help. Since that time both Millington and another employee by the name of Statham had left the employment of the Langleys and reported them to the NSPCC. Statham, when questioned, also spoke of him seeing Langley plunging the boy into a could water trough in all weathers, again seemingly for no reason. These reports were further endorsed by a neighbour, he adding the boy had an awful cough, would be seen walking continually to keep warm, and known to eat anything within his reach. The NSPCC backed up these claims, saying their investigations had also revealed this atrocious behaviour.

Others disagreed, the defence arguing, rather predictably, this was a bad child, born of a consumptive mother who died shortly after his birth. He had been offered plenty of food but it was his choice to eat from the gutter. Furthermore another of his siblings had died young, a clear indication of mental problems suffered by the mother, she the former Mrs Langley.

The defence called a witness, another baker and friend of the Langleys who swore nothing could be further from the truth. The boy had eaten well, from his father's dinner plate no less, supplemented by a diet of eggs, boiled milk and port wine (strange diet for a five-year-old). He also said the child had been allowed to warm himself in the boiler house where a fire burned constantly - this confirming the child was kept outdoors during the day. This witness accused the witnesses for the prosecution of having an axe to grind with the Langleys and in particular the new Mrs Langley. Even his eldest half-sister came forward to give evidence, saying he was treated no differently from the rest and his mental problems were her brother's own fault.

Quickly a verdict was reached. Cheers both inside and outside the court rang out as midnight approached and the Langleys were found guilty. This quickly turned to anger as the crowd threatened to riot, windows of the nearby bakery broken, as they heard the sentence. Given two weeks to pay, the Langleys were fined £25 each - a large sum in 1904 but surely inappropriate for such crimes. Even worse, when explaining the leniency of the sentence the court spoke of how a custodial sentence would have deprived the many other children of both parents.

Odd Parental Concern

February 1864. Man walks into Stafford police station, his attire showing him to work in engineering. Most worried as he found a letter with a summons addressed to his son. He simply did not understand what was being demanded. The clerk found it highly amusing as it read “Orders the person to appear on the 14th to answer the charge of stealing the heart of Amelia Smart. It was addressed to one J. Lovewell, who was to appear at the Court of Hymen, of which the father had never heard. “Of course not!” replied the clerk, “It’s a valentine!”.

Parliaments

Have not paid any attention to the news for years. Don't watch it, listen to it, or read about it - virtually every single item I found frustrating or it angered me. If something major happens, someone will tell me.

And this is just how I learned someone nobody likes had been invited to speak in Britain and then wasn't and now has .... I lost interest halfway through and already wondering why various terms had been coined for parliaments around the world. Thus rather than being political, which isn't me, I've opted for the etymological, which is not only me but also infinitely more interesting. There are many different terms for the body of government but will start with the English term.

Parliament is not recorded in English until the end of the twelfth century. From Old French parlement and parler 'to speak'.

Althing, the Icelandic version, is derived from the Germanic thingam 'assembly', also seen in Old English thing, Middle Dutch dinc, and Old High German ding among others. All these can be traced to Proto-Indo-European tenk, literally meaning 'stretch' but used in the sense of 'time' or 'session' put aside for a meeting. Note the modern 'hustings', only heard today to refer to politicians on the campaign trail, shares this origin and came to English from Old Norse husthing or 'house assembly'.

Bundestag and Bunderstat are the two houses of the German parliament, these translating to 'Federal Diet' and 'Federal Council' respectively. Here 'Diet' comes from the Latin dieta or 'parliamentary assembly' and, etymologically speaking, shares an origin with the idea of food intake.

Commons as in 'House of' simply means 'general' and came from the Latin communis.

Congress is first used in the late 14th century to refer to 'a body of attendants' or 'meeting of armed forces', not seen in the modern sense until the early 16th century. This is derived from the Latin congressus, which could be used to mean both a friendly or hostile encounter, depending on the context. Taking this back further we find Latin com 'together' and gradus 'a step'.

Cortes is Spain's version, from Latin cortem which shares an origin with 'court'. While used in the sense of 'assembly' and those present, it also refers to 'the enclosed yard' and where such could assemble.

Curia shares an origin with the above 'Cortes', as we should expect as this is the senate of Rome and where curia meant 'court' and could well come from co wiria 'community of men'.

Dail, the Irish parliament, simply means 'assembly'. Interestingly the root of this Irish term is also the root for the English 'deal', as in the sense 'share, quantity, amount' and both have a common root in Proto-Indo-European dail 'to divide'.

Diet was an assembly of the Roman Empire and is discussed under Bundestag above.

Duma is from the Russian verb meaning 'to think, consider'. First used for local councils from about 1870, it is not seen for the national assembly until 1905. Having a common root with both 'doom' and 'deem', these all originate in the Proto-Germanic doms 'judgement'.

Knesset, the Israeli parliament, takes its name from the Mishnaic Hebrew keneseth 'gathering, assembly'.

Majlis, the Persian version, is from the Arabic for 'assembly' although literally 'session' and derived from jalasa 'to be seated'.

Poliburo, another Russian term, dates from 1927 and the Russain politbyuro. It is a contraction of politicheskoe byuro meaning 'political bureau'.

Presidium is also Russian but dates from much earlier than the previous example. While the modern idea is not seen until 1924 as prezidium, this originates from Latin praesidium 'to preside over'.

Riksdag is a Swedish word and the general term for 'parliament' or 'assembly'. Along with Finland's Riksdag, the Estonian Riigikogu, historical German Reichstag and Danish Rigsdagen. All these are derived from rike 'royal power' and dag 'conference'.

Senate is from the Latin senex 'the elder' or even 'the old one'. Here suggesting with great age comes wisdom.

Tynwald is derived from the Old Norse 'the meeting place'. Famously this parliament of the Isle of Man is the oldest continuous parliamentary body in the world.

Witan, the Saxon political institution, is a contraction of Witenagemot and from the Proto-Germanic witan 'to know' and ultimately Proto-Indo-European weid 'to see'.

The Judicial System

I have recently returned to something approaching normality after a couple of weeks jury service. A lot of the time was spent sitting around, with some roaming about in the jurors waiting area. Innumerable notices adorned the walls (I proofread them all) but it was not until the second week I found a notice referring to the origins of the judicial system in this country (and thereafter in many parts of the world), saying it was largely unknown but had existed much as it does today for several centuries.

There will be many more qualified to write on the subject of the system and my thoughts, somewhat predictably, turned to the terminology. Indeed some indication of the etymology of these terms may even give some clues as to the origins of the system.

Court – from Old French cort, itself derived from Latin cohors hortis ‘the yard retinue’. Note this refers to the whole assembly and not the room which we should correctly refer to as a courtroom.

Judge – again came to English from Old French juge and ultimately from the Latin judex judicis where jus is ‘law’ and dicus ‘speaking’.

Jury (and thus juror) – from Old French juree and ultimately from Latin jurare meaning ‘oath, swear’.

Barrister – is correctly a barrister-at-law, a term used mainly in Britain for an advocate in the higher courts and ultimately derived from the use of ‘bar’ to refer to the enclosure where a prisoner is held in a court of law. The additional ‘-ister’ is understood to have been likened to ‘minister’. Obviously the ‘bar’ in the court is used much the same as any dividing line.

Solicitor – another chiefly British term, at least from the legal perspective, and referring to those dealing with conveyancing, wills, acting in lower courts, and advising barristers. It clearly comes from ‘solicit’, from Old French solliciter. Ultimately these are from Latin, where sollicitare ‘agitate’, sollicitus ‘anxious’, and derived from sollus ‘entire’ and citus ‘set in motion’.

Prosecution – again this came to English through Old French from Latin, in English derived from ‘prosecute’. Here the origin is prosequi and used in the same sense as ‘to pursue (as in an inquiry)’ coming from Latin pro sequi.

Clerk – both Old English cleric and Old French clerc and from Latin clericus and ultimately from Greek klerikos ‘lot, heritage’. This is easy to see how those recording events in the courtroom were likened to those reading and writing on behalf of the church.

Magistrate – a term which came to English from Latin magistratus ‘administrator’ and describing perfectly the role such officers play in the court system.

Usher – correctly usher-of-the-court, the term is used to refer to those showing people to their seats in a theatre and at a wedding. This came from Old French uissier and ultimately from Latin ostiarius and ostium ‘door’.

Prisoner – clearly derived from ‘prison’ and coming to English from Old French prisun and Latin prehensio ‘the lay hold of’.

Dock – the most recent of all the terms, which is unknown in English (in this context) before the sixteenth century. It seems its original use is as a slang term and derived from the Flemish word dok or ‘cage’.

Chambers – the term used for the private quarters for barristers and judges came to our language from Old French chambre, ultimately from Latin camera meaning ‘vault, arched chamber’.

Plea – from Old French plait ‘agreement’, from Latin placitum ‘a decree’ and ultimately from Latin placer ‘to please’.

Guilty – whilst we can trace this back to Old English gylt we have no idea of its origin.

Alibi – absolutely identical to the original Latin alibi meaning ‘elsewhere’.

Evidence – sharing an origin with ‘evident’ ultimately this is from Latin videre ‘see’.

It seems the etymological evidence suggests this was brought to our shores by the Normans. As these people were descended from the Vikings who invaded the French coast and assimilated as much of the French culture as they could, the judicial system in this country will have been based on the system used in Gaul.