Esther Dyson

The question of mental capacity comes into question in the case of Esther Dyson. Murder of a child in Victorian times was not regarded as any less despicable than today, but this 24-year-old woman may have been treated rather differently today.

In 1830 Esther was accused of murdering her illegitimate daughter. Bad enough? Maybe worse when you hear she attempted to sever her newborn child’s head with a knife before attempting to hide the body by throwing it in a dam. Appalled? Read on.

Esther was acquitted on the grounds of insanity – although the ‘insanity’ was probably due to her being deaf and dumb since birth. Feeling more lenient? There’s more.

Contemporary newspaper reports claimed her disabilities were rather exaggerated, describing her as ‘shrewd’ and ‘an intelligent woman’ who well ‘knew right from wrong’. In a crowded court at Leeds in March 1831 was asked how she pleaded but failed to respond – so the members of the jury were asked to determine whether the prisoner stood mute ‘by malice or by thr visitation of God’. The jury blamed the Almighty.

One called to give evidence, Mrs Ann Briggs, had known the prisoner of almost ten years and stated she doubted whether Esther had any idea of what was happening in the courts. But Mrs Briggs admitted Esther certainly knew the difference between right and wrong.

The judge, reluctant to try Esther, instructed the jury to decide whether she was insane, in which case she would be detained at His Majesty’s pleasure. This is what happened and the West Riding Pauper Lunatic Asylum in Wakefield became her home from 24 November 1831 until her death on 2 March 1869 at the age of 62.

It is recorded that she was regularly employed as a housemaid, and showed no symptoms of insanity during her more than three decades at Wakefield.

Was she insane? Should she hang? What do you think?

Jane Frearson

Jane Frearson had lived at the Bell Inn in Derby for some five months, employed as a kitchen maid by Mrs Wightman. She had returned to the area after spending time in Sheffield, again as a domestic servant, having previously lived with her parents at Normanton.

Tuesday 19th January 1830, and at the Bell Inn a most gruesome discovery was made. A newborn female infant had been discovered among the detritus in the privy at the public house. At the inquest, also held at the Bell Inn, medical opinion suggested the child had been alive at birth, there was no outward appearance of any injuries and nothing to suspect internal injuries. The child had probably died shortly after birth. The inquest decided Frearson should face charges and was given bail awaiting her appearance in court.

The case came to court on Wednesday 28th April 1830, where she faced a charge of concealing the birth of her infant bastard child. The court decided to acquit her, and Frearson walked free. It later transpired that Frearson had been seduced by a member of the family while working in Sheffield at the home of what was considered a respectable family. Finding herself with child, she returned to Derby, securing the job at the Bell Inn. Here she attempted to hide her pregnancy, but in the later stages it was clear to all and when the infant was discovered in the privy there was no doubting who the mother was. Frearson claimed the child had been alive at birth but died shortly after, medics could not determine whether the child would have lived had she sought medical help.

Whether Jane Frearson would have faced more serious charges today is uncertain. Contemporary reports do not touch on her mental state, nor go into any details as to how she became pregnant, the reaction of her employers in Sheffield, or why she left their employ.

Synonym Etymologies K

Continuing the look at synonyms through the eyes of the etymologist, this time it is the letter K and kid. Hardly any surprise to find this began as the young of the goat, its etymology is uncertain, and later applied to children, first recorded in 1590.

Child is first seen in Old English cild where it referred to the unborn infant or foetus. It came from Proto-Germanic kiltham, a word which also gave Gothic kilpei 'womb' and inkilpo 'pregnant'. Note the Old Swedish kulder was used to mean 'litter', while Old English cildhama may have been defined as 'womb' but actually was literally 'child home', and in the 15th and 17th centuries 'child' was nearly always referring to a girl.

Baby is a diminutive of 'babe', itself short for the 13th century word baban and likely imitative of baby talk (as is 'babble').

Toddler is derived from 'toddle', a word first seen in Scotland and northern England and of unknown origin.

Infant is an interesting word which is a combination of 'in' and 'fari'. Here 'in' is used as a prefix meaning 'not', while 'fari' is the verb 'to speak'. A pretty good description of a young infant.

Minor began as a Latin word meaning 'small', and is derived from the Proto-Indo-European root mei also meaning 'small'.

Juvenile is from the Latin iuvenilis meaning 'youthful'. It came from iuvensis 'young man, one in the flower of his age'. Note this did not refer to one who was just maturing, or approaching maturity, for the Romans this was a man aged between 21 and 40 - there's hope for us yet.

Youth is, unsurprisingly, from the same source as 'young' and yet 'youth was the earlier word. Another of Germanic origins, it was more often used to refer to young warriors and even the young of cattle in its earliest times.

Teenager is named from those in their teens (thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, etc.). Teenager has only ben used since 1922, prior to that it was 'teener', and earlier still simply 'teen'.Note the element 'teen' is from 'ten' - this fourteen is four-ten, sixteen is six-ten, and so on.

That was not what I meant. (I)

When working through the list of words it never fails to astonish me how often words have not only changed in meaning completely, but have even come to mean the opposite of the earlier sense. And who can we blame? Those who speak the language - or perhaps speak the language badly, would be a better way of describing it.

Idiom, a distinctive expression or turn of phrase, began in the sixteenth century as a reference to a specific language.

Improve must surely have always meant 'make better', surely? But no. For in the sixteenth century there are plenty of written used where the word is clearly used to mean 'make profit'.

Impudent or 'cheeky' today, but the word actually tells us its meaning of 'not pudent' and therefore was used to mean 'immodest. lacking decency' in the fourteenth century.

Inane comes from Latin, and instead of meaning 'mad, crazy' as used today, was first used in English to mean 'empty'.

Industry meant 'skill' or 'dexterity' in the fifteenth century, not seen in a manufacturing sense until the eighteenth century.

Infants today are young children, but for nearly the entire existence of the English language it simply referred to a child of any age.

Infest today suggests being subjected to an attack by hordes of undesirables, but originalyl described the 'swarm' of anything, be it undesirable of not.

Inmate today suggests someone who resides in an institution and who would not be there by choice. When the word was first used in English it was simply referred to one residing at another's premises, such as a lodger or tenant.

Inn, today a word which can only be a pub or perhaps a hotel. Yet in the fourteenth century we all lived in inns, for every dwelling was referred as such.

Insulate is to keep separate, detach, today. But when first used in English it described somewhere 'made into an island'.

Insult would be insulting to define in the modern sense, so we'll stick with the sixteenth century sense meaning 'to triumph over'.

Interfere originates from the Latin inter 'one another' and ferire 'to strike', and thus what is used today to mean 'meddle' began as being used to mean 'to strike each other'.

Invent or 'devise' today, was a fifteenth century word meaning 'to come'.

Investment has a financial meaning today, but began in the sixteenth century meaning 'to clothe'.

Involve is derived from the Latin onvolvere or 'to roll in', which is exactly what it meant in the fourteenth century.

Item is an individual object today, but in the fourteenth century meant 'also' which, if the list is itemised, and 'item' inserted before each then that makes perfect sense.