Word Idioms

Several words have found themselves used in a number of phrases. We looked at 'hit' last time and this time it's 'word'

Have words with first appears in a 15th century document.

Word to the wise is a translation of a Latin phrase, where verbum sapienti satis est meant 'a word to the wise is enough'.

Word for word is another of some age, appearing in the 14th century.

Word of mouth, once again, has some longevity and appears in writing for the first time in the 1550s. It would be good to know if the first time this expression, it speaking of an oral communication, appeared in writing the irony was not lost on the writer.

Swear word is obviously a combination of two simple and early English words. However, we do not find them in combination until 1873, when it is used in an America.

Crossword is another combining two much older words, and does not appear until 1925 when it is given as a 'crossword puzzle'. The first crossword in New York World newspaper on 21 December 1913, but was described as a 'word-cross'.

Literary Assassination

November 2013 marked fifty years since the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, Texas. I am always interested in how such moments in history were covered by the media and spent some time viewing old reports. Later I looked back to April 1865 and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. Many parallels have been drawn between the two men and the number of coincidences surrounding both their lives and deaths.

One comparison which cannot be drawn between the two is in the media coverage. In 1963 instant communication methods meant the news was reported in the United Kingdom at almost the same time as it did in the USA. A century earlier it took days for the news to filter through and newspapers, at least in local terms, were produced weekly and reports of President Lincoln’s death appeared, in real time, after the ten-day search for John Wilkes Booth had ended in the killer’s death. This also tempered the mood of other reports: in 1963 even the sports pages lacked the usual exuberance, in 1865 columns went unchanged. Alongside the belated reports of the assassination and its aftermath I found the following stories.

No mention of Lincoln’s assassination was found in the first newspaper after the 14th April, news had yet to filter through. However the mood of optimism across the Atlantic was covered, with a mention of how American newspapers had seen the appearance of four eagles circling the Statue of Freedom atop the Capitol Dome in Washington DC. This could only mean a good time for all lay ahead under the new presidency. Note this was simply the local rag repeating what had been printed in US newspapers.

A rather odd story came from Prussian Poland, where but two passenger trains ran between Lissa and Posen each day. A similar number of livestock trains were seen daily but government legislation banned any human passengers save for the handlers of the livestock, for which a perfectly acceptable carriage was coupled up. There were no exceptions to this rule, even medical personnel had been turned away resulting in a number of deaths. It was not clear how many, if any, could have been saved had the doctor been allowed to travel. An enterprising German innkeeper saw a possible loophole and purchased advertising space at the station offering his goat for hire. For the equivalent of sixpence (equivalent of £2 today) for every station travelled in each direction this would allow any passenger to travel on the livestock train. The advert also pointed out the goat could be handled by anyone being “so tame it could be controlled by just a slender silk ribbon.”

Silly season sees all sorts of weird stories being covered. Yet surely we could never be so desperate as to include a conversation such as that following the announcement of an engagement. It seems the lady had been asked time and again just why she was contemplating becoming Mrs (name withheld), when he was clearly so different from other men? She responded the questioning with: “Well if he is very much unlike other men, he is more likely to make a good husband.”

A similarly odd subject was covered in the story of a letter written by a lady from Bristol. It seems Alice had written to a well-respected gentleman of the city, stating how she had tried time and again to be formally introduced to a man she had admired from afar adding, “If you are wondering why a mere girl such as I would wish to meet a man of your stature, meet me at the post box outside the chapel at 7:30 that Sunday evening.” No Victorian gent could ever entertain leaving a young lady standing around and so he turned up. He was not pleased to discover he was one of between thirty and forty gentlemen milling around the post box trying to appear nonchalant. For reasons I have yet to fathom they were still there at 8:00pm when the congregation emerged from the chapel. It was suspected Alice was among those emerging from the chapel as there seemed to be a lot of giggling and glances in their direction.

Another post-war story was covered, that of a US deserter. An Irishman by the name of James Devlin, having enlisted with the Union Army, deserted and was subsequently reported by his wife, who collected the reward money. However he could not be found and no wonder for he had re-enlisted under an alias. This alias was also being sought as a deserter, furthermore his wife had also given evidence against her husband and claimed the reward money. Yet again the deserter could not be found, for Devlin had enlisted a third time under yet another alias and had been turned in by HIS wife who, you guessed it, had again received the reward money. What was proving to be a lucrative ruse came to light when Mrs Devlin found her husband had deserted her and was enjoying the ill-gotten gains with another woman. This time she gave factual details as to his whereabouts and he is subsequently arrested. However she regretted her actions when she witnessed him being led out to face the firing squad within the confines of the army camp on the island. It was said her screams and sobbing could be heard across the water on the mainland.

How many of these would be considered world headlines today?

A Writer’s Research

As the majority of my writing recalls events which happened before anyone I’ve ever known was born, it takes a great deal of research to produce the finished work. Personally I find all research to be enjoyable, although that for my recent release of Bloody British History Stafford published by The History Press was particularly enjoyable and I’m very much looking forward to producing further volumes.

In preparing the Stafford volume I ploughed through every local newspaper released for the area from the early nineteenth century until the end of the Second World War. I lost count of the number of reels of microfilm I saw scrolling past but soon learned where to find the relevant columns. This would have saved some time had I not been distracted by some of the reporting of the day. Some of the news items would hardly be considered worthy of even a mention today. The reporting style, too, was most entertaining. One story, covered in Bloody British History Stafford, concerns the large fire destroying much of the town centre in 1887. Many volunteers pitched in to aid the firemen, some being interviewed by the local reporter. I found the quotes most amusing. Such eloquence from witnesses regularly given free supplies of thirst-quenching ale during their rest breaks, with not even a hint of a grammatical slip.

Not suitable for inclusion in the book were a number of stories which I made a note of simply because I found them so entertaining. For example can we imagine a modern headline proclaiming how wondrous it must be to live in a certain terraced house as recently the combined ages of the four residents surpassed three hundred years!

With modern transportation methods meat is brought into our towns and cities in easily handled sizes to be trimmed and cut for the customer. Once the slaughterhouses were situated within the town, the animals brought in alive. Several stories were related regarding the cattle and their attempts to avoid the butcher’s slab, always assuming they knew of their destination. It was common for butchers to bring the animal to their premises, the beast led by a halter to its final destination. One butcher could not understand where all his halters were disappearing to, so instigated a thorough search of his servants’ rooms. He found the remains of the halters, each minus the ends, within the skirts. It seems his employee desired a very full skirt in the style of the day, however could not afford the metal hoops to fill them out and found a suitable replacement in the halters.

Escaped animals, presumably those not tethered by a halter, were quite commonplace. One evening in May of 1858, Mr Bridgwood, a butcher in Eastgate Street, lost control of a bullock. It ran into the yard of the New Inn where a young lady was targeted. She fled and escaped when a young child wandered into the path of the now rather angry bullock. The child was knocked down and would have suffered worse than the minor bruising had it not been for the intervention by a man who “seizing a large stick laying conveniently at hand, applied it with vigour to the forehead of the enraged brute.” Others managed to tether its legs, making it topple over and enabling them to break its legs, thus preventing it escaping and allowing the butcher to kill it where it lay – in the middle of Stafford.

However one narrative of Victorian pomposity appeared in an edition from May 1864. The newspaper reported how, while it was mindful a Smithfield (meat market) was a necessity, it was appalled that these creatures were still allowed to roam the streets on the way to the abattoir. It seems on the day of the May Fair two animals were highlighted as to why this must be dealt a most severe and final blow. Firstly one rampaged through the crowded streets until apprehended. However it was the second, a cow which attracted the most attention when it decided “to venture into the District Bank, perhaps in order to pay a call on the mayor.” There is no explanation as to why the mayor was in the bank, nor why they thought the cow may be seeking the man out. However it seems likely the mayor had done something to irritate the newspaper in recent weeks, or maybe he was just extremely unpopular. Yet things deteriorated shortly afterwards when, as the newspaper reported, “in the presence of both sexes of all ages the screams and dismay was apparent to all as it did the unthinkable – it calved. An indecent disgrace and disgusting filth for any town to be forced to endure.” A letter the following week echoed the editor’s sentiments in saying “in 1864 and within 130 miles of the Metropolis (London) this should be allowed to happen!” I still wonder how far from the Metropolis a cow would need to be to give birth in public and for it to be considered acceptable?

Incidentally, I shall be signing copies of Bloody British History Stafford at Waterstones in Stafford from 10am on Saturday October 19th 2013. Look forward to meeting you there.

I would welcome any suggestions for themes or subjects, or even specific words to examine the origins, meanings and etymologies. I’d be delighted to hear from you.