WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Belcher

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Belcher

This week’s word brought to you by the “no, it doesn’t mean that” police.

Belcher

A red silk handkerchief, intermixed with yellow and a little black. “The kiddey flashes his belcher:” the young fellow wears a silk handkerchief round his neck.

Whither my Love! ..Ah.. Whither are thou gone by Isaac Cruikshank after G.M. Woodward, 1798, public domain.

The kerchief’s namesake, James Belcher, was born in Bristol on 15 April 1781. He was the son of a butcher and raised to be such, but a talent for pugilism was in his blood: his mother was the daughter of Jack Slack, a famous fighter known as the “Norfolk Butcher.” James was much more successful than his grandfather, earning his own nickname, the “Napoleon of the Ring.” He was a natural fighter, with a form described as elegant; he himself was known to be “good-humoured, finely proportioned, and well-looking.” Pierce Egan, journalist, sportswriter, and general popular culture “man in the know,” wrote in 1812 in Boxiana, “Belcher’s style was original.…His antagonists were terrified by his gaiety and decision…and fightingmen in general were confounded with his sangfroid and intrepidity.”

Can you imagine Sports Illustrated writing of a boxer’s “sangfroid and intrepidity” in 2018, and anyone knowing what was meant? Sigh.

The New Coinage -or- John Bulls Visit to Mat of the Mint by James Gillray, published February 1817, public domain.

Belcher had a relatively short career because he had such a short life, dying at age 30 in 1811. He lost an eye by accident in 1803, and his fighting prowess began to decline as a result of the diminished vision and loss of depth perception. His last fight took place on 1 February 1809, and it was a punishing loss after thirty-one rounds. This battle robbed him of his former good humor, and he slipped into a foul disposition and depression.  He remains known as “one of the gamest fighters ever seen in the prize-ring,” and his name was as well known as Prime Minister Pitt and the Duke of Wellington.

The Sailor and the Quack Doctor by Isaac Cruikshank after G.M. Woodward, 1807, public domain.

And like Wellington and his boots, Belcher was also remembered by an article of namesake clothing: the belcher is a handkerchief that first began as blue and white spotted but now loosely applies to any variegated kerchief tied around the neck.

James Belcher, Bare-Knuckle Champion of England, by Benjamin Marshal (1768-1835), Tate Museum.

 

  • Slang term taken from the 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.
  • Wikisource has a nice-sized biography of James Belcher, which includes accounts of his more notable fights.
  • Learn the fascinating story of Norfolk Butcher, Jack Slack, at All Things Georgian.
  • If you want to know Boxing back in the day, you must work your way through Boxiana by Pierce Egan. Or just follow him on Twitter.
  • Tom Dick & Harry gives a brief history of the English Bandanna and its founding father, James Belcher.
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WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Billingsgate Language

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Billingsgate Language

We’ve just wrapped up another presidential election cycle here in the good ol’ USA, but I don’t think we’re going to be lucky enough to wrap up the ill will, hurt feelings, and fears that our continued march into the 21st Century is bringing. This is a politics-free zone here, but I’d be lying if I said that the verbal diarrhea of bleating clodpoles, both red and blue, didn’t inspire this week’s word.

Billingsgate Language (noun)

Foul language, or abuse. Billingsgate is the market where the fishwomen assemble to purchase fish; and where, in their dealings and disputes, they are somewhat apt to leave decency and good manners a little on the left hand.

Billingsgate is one of the twenty-five wards of London whose location was on the northern bank of the Thames, just west of the Tower of London. It was the city’s original water gate and the busiest harbor in the city, where corn, coal, iron, wine, salt, pottery, miscellaneous goods – and most importantly, fish – were bought and sold.

But Billingsgate was also known for another commodity – rough language. The hawking cries of the fish vendors were loud and crude. The women, in particular, took no prisoners with their tart tongues.

A New Catamaran Expedition!!! by Isaac Cruikshank, published by William Holland 1805, Library of Congress.

A New Catamaran Expedition!!! by Isaac Cruikshank, published by William Holland 1805, Library of Congress.

In the above drawing, catamarans loaded with fishwives are dispatched to France to terrorize the enemy. The wives’ speech balloons read “We’ll pepper you scoundrels”, “Give it ’em well, my hearties.”, “Yea ye dirty Blackguards we’ll soon be with you.”, and “Look at our ammunition, you poltroons.”

Hans Turbot Quarrelling With a Fishwoman. at Southampton in Presence of Count Cork Screw by William Austin, 1773, British Museum.

Hans Turbot Quarrelling With a Fishwoman. at Southampton in Presence of Count Cork Screw by William Austin, 1773, British Museum.

Considering the gentlemen characters have closed mouths, I’m not sure how much arguing is going on. The fishwoman is pretty rough-looking, tattooed, and giving a right scolding to all present.

Title and author unknown.

Title and author unknown, from Georgian Gentleman Mike Rendell.

We don’t even need a title to figure out the story to this little gem. The fishwoman – evidently so angry and agitated that her chemise fell down – is putting some hurt on the Frenchie, much to the shock of his compatriot and delight of hers. Another fishwoman is also in danger of losing her top, but will not be deterred from her patriotic duty of putting a lobster on the bare buttocks of the enemy. As you do.

I’ll close with the lyrics of The Bloody Battle of Billingsgate, sung to the tune of The Orange, from the English Broadside Ballad Archive. Brace yourselves: this is Billingsgate.

Beginning with a Scolding bout between two young Fish-women, Doll and Kate.

One morning of late, hard by Billingsgate,
There Dolly she happen’d to meet with young Kate,
They Quarrel’d and Fought, and made a sad Rout,
And if you wou’d know, Sirs, what it was about,
I will tell ye.

Last Wednesday night, young Kate did invite
The Husband of Dolly, her Joy and Delight,
And merrily they, did Frolick and Play,
A whole Winter’s night, till the morning next day;
was it fitting?

Doll.
You’re Impudent grown, shall I lye alone,
And you have delight, while his poor Wife has none;
You saivry young Sow, I will not allow
Such doings, but here I will pummel ye now,
ye bold Strumpet.

Kate.
Marry gap, Mistress Gill, my mind to fulfill,
I’de have you to know he shall come when he will,
And yet not by stealth, ye impudent Elf,
I have as much right to the Man as your self,
he’s no Husband.

Doll.
I’de have ye know before I do go,
That I can a Lawful Certificate show;
Thus I am his Wife, the joy of his life,
But you have between us created much strife,
ye bold Strumpet.

Kate.
A Twelvemonth ye Whor’d, then he did afford
A Marriage, by leaping twice over a Sword,
Your Shams I degrade, for Robin he said,
That under a Hedge-Row that Writing he made;
hopeful Marriage.

Ye pittiful Trull, I never did gull
Like you, the poor Drummer, last Summer, at H[ul]l
An impudent Stock, went breaking his Lock,
And stole the man’s Shirt, for to make ye a Smock.
ye bold Strumpet.

Kate.
Slut this is a Lye, she then did reply
But here is one truth, which you cannot deny,
Ye pittiful Punk, last week ye were Drunk,
Four men had ye home, and they told me ye stunk
like a Pole-Cat.

Kate.
Are you not a shame, to all of your name?
All honest good people against you exclaim:
You left your poor Brats, and went to the t[?] [?]ats
There lay with a Man for a bushel of Sp[yri]ts,
out upon ye.

Doll.
I’ll make ye to smoak, for what ye have spoke
Since you do so often my patience provoke,
What flesh can forbear? besides I declare,
Your Neighbors knows all well enough what you are
Mistress Trinkets.

Kate.
She gave her a thrust, and said, do your worst,
If you have much Money that does lye and rust,
W[h]y then go to Law, I won’t stand in awe;
With that down her Face she her Tallents did claw,
with a vengeance.

The other she flew, and gave her her due,
First tore off her Hood, Quoif, and Filleting too:
They fight and did Scold, and both kept their hold,
At length in the Kennel together they roll’d,
like two fat Sows.

The Women and Men, soon parted ‘um then,
And bid them be Friendly and quiet agen:
Their words did prevail, together they Sail,
And drank up two quarts of hot Brandy and Ale,
in good Friendship.

FINIS.

Based on the pictures of riots and bleeping of soundbites on the streets of America, Billingsgate Language and behavior is neither relegated to history nor confined to the fish market.

 

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Blocked at Both Ends

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Blocked at Both Ends

Just like last week, we’re once again in the realm of gaming; specifically, cards. This post is a bit longer than my usual WOWs, but that’s because it will need to tide you over until 2017. The next two weeks will find me tucked away with my family making all things merry! I wish you warm cocoa, warm fires, and warm hearts this holiday season!

Blocked at Both Ends

Finished. The game is blocked at both ends; the game is ended.

There is an aphorism that I consider half-right: it is how you play the game . . . but it’s also fine to say winning is usually the hoped-for outcome. To wit: if you want to win at Regency parlor games, you’ve got to know how to play.

I first read about Regency card games in Georgette Heyer’s Faro’s Daughter. I knew nothing about the game, yet Heyer’s deft and focused touch kept the details interesting and understandable. I was never lost by the maneuvers and machinations.

So in case you need a new game to play whilst stuck indoors with too much food (and perhaps too much family) this holiday season, let’s learn the basics of play for some Regency parlor games.

Cassino (also, Casino; there is actually controversy about the spelling, according to Pagat)

Cassino made its first documented appearance in London at the end of the eighteenth century. The main objective of the game is to capture cards from a layout of face up cards on the table. A card is captured by playing a matching card from the player’s hand. It is also possible to capture several cards at once if their values add up to the value of the card played. Captured cards are held by the winner and scored at the end of the play. Two to four players make up each game.

Italian deck of cards for Cassino.

Italian deck of cards for Cassino.

Commerce (also, Thirty-One, Whisky Poker, and Bastard Brag)

I grew up playing this game (we played for M&Ms and Skittles and thought we were So. Cool.) so I’ll simply explain it like I play it. A game can have three to ten players; one deck of cards is used and Aces are high. Players contribute equal stakes to the pool, then receive three cards from the dealer. Three cards are then dealt face up on the table to form the “widow.” The dealer can swap out 1-2 of his cards with the widow to “make his hand.” Once the dealer is satisfied with his hand, players may look at their cards. There are usually as many rounds as there are players, and a fresh card is added to the “widow” at the beginning of each round. Once a player is satisfied with his cards, he knocks on the table; play stops once two players have knocked. Players then show their cards and the holder of the best combination receives the stakes deposited in the pool; the player with the worst hand puts in one counter called “Going Up.”

  • Tricon – three of a kind
  • Sequence – three cards of the same suit, in order
  • Flush – three cards of the same suit (the highest wins)
  • Pair – two similar cards (highest pair wins)
    Point – cards added up by their face value (Ace 11, Kings 10, etc.)

They all spent the evening together at Thorpe’s. Catherine was disturbed and out of spirits; but Isabella seemed to find a pool of commerce, in the fate of which she shared, by private partnership with Morland, a very good equivalent for the quiet and country air of an inn at Clifton.
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, Chapter 11

Obstinate Headstrong Girl author Renée Reynolds ¦ WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Blocked at Both Ends. Pictured, "Doings In A Hell."

Faro

This is the game your mother warned you about. It ruined smarter, better, and wealthier people than you. What began as the politest of card games in Italy and France under the name Basset became quite different when its ancestor was outlawed. Faro was the overwhelmingly tempting open secret of gaming halls and private card parties alike. A suit of cards was glued face-up, Ace to King, on an oval of green baize known as the board. The dealer was called theBbanker, and players were known as Punters. Punters laid stakes on one of the 13 cards on the board. Just to complicate the issue, Punters could also place side bets on multiple cards by laying their wagers between or on card edges. Bets ranged from one to one hundred guineas (or more) upon a single card. There are myriad rules on payout and further play that I will explain via the Seinfeld example: yada-yada-yada, the bank wins big and the gamblers lose.

Fun fact: after migrating to the United States in the mid-1800s, it swept that country with the speed of western expansion and the zeal of the gold rush. Criminal cases concerning faro were even argued all the way to the Supreme Court (United States v. Simms, 1803 and Ex parte Milburn, 1835). Mark Twain declared:

A dollar picked up in the road is more satisfaction to us than the 99 which we had to work for, and the money won at Faro or in the stock market snuggles into our hearts in the same way.

Faro's Daughters, or the Kenyonian blow up to Gamblers by Isaac Cruikshank, 16 May 1796, Digital Collections, Yale University Library.

Faro’s Daughters, or the Kenyonian blow up to Gamblers by Isaac Cruikshank, 16 May 1796, Digital Collections, Yale University Library. Ha! I see what you did their, Georgette Heyer.

Loo (also, Lanterloo)

A minimum of five players use all 52 cards. Each is dealt 3-5 cards (gamers choice) and after looking at their hand, they can drop out without charge or elect to stay in, paying to play. Committing to play requires the player to win at least one trick (thereby winning one-third or one-fifth of the total pool). Fail this, and pay a penalty amount equal to the whole pot – you’ve been “looed.” The pot carries forward and increases with each hand: great for the winner, potentially ruinous for the loser.

Loo in the Kitchin or High Life below Stairs by Isaac Cruikshank, published by Rudolph Ackermann 25 June 1799, Digital Collections, Yale University Library.

Loo in the Kitchin or High Life below Stairs by Isaac Cruikshank, published by Rudolph Ackermann 25 June 1799, Digital Collections, Yale University Library.

Piquet

Here’s the card game I’m determined to play this holiday. It seems so terribly refined yet cutthroat at the same time. I love that the English pronounce it “Picket” rather than the French “P.K.” Two players, 36 cards (Aces to Sixes), with each hand divided into five parts:

  • Blanks and Discards
  • Ruffs
  • Sequences
  • Sets
  • Tricks

The dealer is called the Younger while the player is called the Elder. Each player is dealt twelve cards, in groups of 2-4, depending on the part, with the remaining twelve cards lying in a stack between the opponents. The first player to score 100 is the winner. The rules on scoring for each part are lengthy but actually seem relatively straightforward. You can find a thorough explanation of them, with illustrations, at Historic Card Games.

Pope Joan

Something about the name of this game makes me feel like I’d be getting away with something sacrilegious if I were to play it. Or that I’m making light of something that could lead to my eternal damnation. Hmm.

Pope Joan is considered a Victorian card game because of its widespread popularity during that time, but we know it was played as early as 1732, courtesy the Oxford English Dictionary. Dickens even referred to it as an “old fashioned card party” in Chaper 6 of The Pickwick Papers.

Up to eight players may play, using a standard 52-card deck, but also a circular playing board resembling that of Roly-Poly or E-O. The board is divided into eight compartments: Ace, King, Queen, Jack, Pope 9, Game, Intrigue (trump Queen + Jack), and Matrimony (trump King + Queen). Each player “dresses” each compartment with two counters, which could be anything from farthings to guineas. The object is to win counters by playing out cards corresponding to the labelled compartments on the board, and to be the first to run out of cards. The rules are again lengthy but manageable, and expertly explained by Dave Parlett at Historic Card Games.

Pope Joan board, courtesy Ruby Lane Antiques of River Oaks, Houston, TX.

Pope Joan board, courtesy Ruby Lane Antiques of River Oaks, Houston, TX.

Pope Joan board detail, courtesy Ruby Lane Antiques of River Oaks, Houston, TX

Pope Joan board detail, courtesy Ruby Lane Antiques of River Oaks, Houston, TX

Speculation

All of the card game rule sites state “several” may play Speculation, so that could possibly mean as many as your table will seat. Honestly, play for this game is the simplest of all I’ve study so far. Each player begins the game with the same number of markers – fish – from which to ante at the beginning of each hand.

Fish markers for the game of Speculation. They are also called chips. I swear this is not my attempt at a bad pun.

Fish markers for the game of Speculation. They are also called chips. I swear this is not my attempt at a bad pun.

Players are each dealt three cards, face down; after all have cards, the dealer turns the next one face up to determine the trump suit. This card belongs to the dealer (if he turns over an Ace, he’s won, and play ends before it began). If it is a high enough trump, players may offer to buy it. Players then turn over their cards, one at a time in progression around the table from the dealer’s left. If a higher trump card is revealed, the possessor may sell or keep it, and any player may make him an offer. Players may also offer to buy or trade for any face-down cards, sight unseen, at any time.

All trading and auctioning is done in pursuit of acquiring the highest trump card. Cards rank from Ace high to 2 low. The game ends when all cards have been revealed or when somebody turns the Ace; the owner of the highest trump wins the pot.

Jane Austen wrote of Speculation in Mansfield Park:

In the evening it was found, according to the predetermination of Mrs. Grant and her sister, that after making up the whist-table there would remain sufficient for a round game, and everybody being as perfectly complying and without a choice as on such occasions they always are, speculation was decided on almost as soon as whist; and Lady Bertram soon found herself in the critical situation of being applied to for her own choice between the games, and being required either to draw a card for whist or not. She hesitated.
Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, Chapter 25

Speculation card deck.

Speculation card deck.

Vingt-et-un (also, Vingt-un, Twenty-One, or Pontoon)

Obstinate Headstrong Girl author Renée Reynolds ¦ WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Blocked at Both Ends. Pictured, Georgian gamblers.

Any number of people may play; a standard 52-card deck is used, although with six or more players, two decks would be combined. Money or markers are used for wagering. The value of the cards is the same as their pip, with face cards worth ten; the Ace can be worth one or eleven, player’s choice. The dealer gives each player two cards, and the player may hold with these or add as many as he wishes. The object of the game is to form a hand whose total value is at or near twenty-one, without going over.

Whist

Whist arose from the game Ruff and Honours – how great a name is that?! – as reported by Charles Cotton in The Compleat Gamester, 1674. It is a plain-trick game without bidding, with four players in fixed partnerships of two and seated across the table from each other; it is strictly forbidden for partners to “talk across the table” or remark on their cards or play in any way. Cards rank from Ace highest to Two lowest, with trumps determined by the final card laid down by the dealer after having dispensed the rest of the cards. He placed the trump card in the middle of the table and play then began to the dealer’s left. The first player may lead any card in his hand, with play proceeding clockwise order, following suit of the card led. A player with no card of that suit may discard (play a card of another suit) or play a trump. The trick is won by the highest card of the lead suit or by trump. The winner of the trick leads the next round, and play continues until all thirteen tricks are played. When finished, the score is recorded. Think Spades or Pinochle today.

Two-Penny Whist by James Gillray, published by Hannah Humphrey 11 January 1796, National Portrait Gallery.

Two-Penny Whist by James Gillray, published by Hannah Humphrey 11 January 1796, National Portrait Gallery.

In conclusion, for your further reading pleasure – and to get a glimpse into contemporaneous gambling – trek over to Susanna Ives‘s internet home to read a Sad Tale of Gambling Woe from 1804.

 

Obstinate Headstrong Girl author Renée Reynolds ¦ WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Blocked at Both Ends

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Frigate

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Frigate

Fashion is amazing.

I admit to being a blue jeans and t-shirt connoiseur myself, but I do pay attention to Fashion Week each  year, and gawk at what celebrities are wearing on award show red carpets. I understand nothing of the inspiration, vision, or sheer artistry behind the creativity of the designers of each new trend. I cannot fathom how an artist goes from making a-line skirts and coats one season, to sheer bandeaus and capris the next.

So while it makes no sense to me, it’s however no surprise that the gravity-defying pompadours and wider-than-doorway panniers of the late 18th Century gave rise to simple and straight empire gowns and natural hair – fashion evolves in mysterious and myriad ways. Since the styles of mothers from the era of George III dressed vastly different from their Regency-reared daughters, I thought it might be interesting to compare and contrast two styles. And since caricatures and fashion plates are vastly more entertaining than mere portraits ….

Frigate (noun)

A well-dressed wench; a well rigged-frigate.

Fashion Plate #43 in Galerie des Modes for 1778. Caption reads "Jeune Dame de Qualité en grande Robe coëffée avec un Bonnet ou Pouf élégant dit la Victoire Dessiné par Desrai." Translated means Young Lady in high quality cofeée dress with a hat or stylish pouf designed by Desrai.

Fashion Plate #43 in Galerie des Modes for 1778. Caption reads “Jeune Dame de Qualité en grande Robe coëffée avec un Bonnet ou Pouf élégant dit la Victoire Dessiné par Desrai.” Translated means Young Lady in high quality cofeée dress with a hat or stylish pouf designed by Desrai.

Mlle Des Victoire coiffure à la Grenade, 1779 (Miss Victory Hair Style à la Grenada). French propaganda print satirizing the big hair.

Mlle Des Victoire coiffure à la Grenade, 1779 (Miss Victory Hair Style à la Grenada). French propaganda print satirizing the big hair.

Launching a Frigate, 1790s, James Gillray

Launching a Frigate, 1790s, James Gillray

The Finishing Touch, James Gillray

The Finishing Touch, James Gillray

Tight Lacing, or Fashion before Ease, by Bowles and Carver after John Collet, London, ca. 1770–1775. From the collections of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation.

Tight Lacing, or Fashion before Ease, by Bowles and Carver after John Collet, London, ca. 1770–1775. From the collections of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation.

The Fashions of the Day -or- Time Past and Present. Respectfully dedicated to the Fashionable Editors of La Belle Assemblé Le Beau Monde &c., &c. 1807, Charles Williams.

The Fashions of the Day -or- Time Past and Present. Respectfully dedicated to the Fashionable Editors of La Belle Assemblé Le Beau Monde &c., &c. 1807, Charles Williams.

Parisian Ladies in their Winter Dress for 1800, Isaac Cruikshank, 1799

Parisian Ladies in their Winter Dress for 1800, Isaac Cruikshank, 1799

The Rage or Shepherds I have lost My Waist, 1790s, Isaac Cruikshank

The Rage or Shepherds I have lost My Waist, 1790s, Isaac Cruikshank

High-change in Bond Street -ou- la Politesse du Grande Monde, James Gillray, 1796

High-change in Bond Street -ou- la Politesse du Grande Monde, James Gillray, 1796

Fashion Plate: A Lady of Hindoostan, 1809, Los Angeles County Museum of Art

Fashion Plate: A Lady of Hindoostan, 1809, Los Angeles County Museum of Art

 

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Canting

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Canting

Canting (verb)

Preaching with a whining, affected tone. Perhaps a corruption of chaunting. Some derive it from Andrew Cant, a famous Scotch preacher, who used that whining manner of expression. Also a kind of gibberish used by thieves and gypsies, called likewise pedlar’s [sic] French, the slang, etc., etc.

William Markham ("The church militant"), James Gillray, 1779.

William Markham (“The church militant”), James Gillray, 1779.

There’s a post crying out to be written that investigates Mr. Andrew Cant but, alas, that post waits to live another week. Instead, I’ve grabbed a few caricatures of “canting clerics” from Rowlandson, Gillray, and Cruikshank.

Caricature of Edward Irving Preaching by (Isaac) Robert Cruikshank, 1824

Caricature of Edward Irving Preaching by (Isaac) Robert Cruikshank, 1824

Syntax Preaching, Thomas Rowlandson, 1813, British Library

Syntax Preaching, Thomas Rowlandson, 1813, British Library

The Vicar of Wakefield - The Vicar Preaching to the Prisoners, Thomas Rowlandson, 1817

The Vicar of Wakefield – The Vicar Preaching to the Prisoners, Thomas Rowlandson, 1817

 

Slang term taken from 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue. Why this book isn’t on everyone’s coffee table …

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Grinagog or The Cat’s Uncle

WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Grinagog or The Cat’s Uncle

Finishing up our month of fools, we come to the slang term I’ve easily incorporated into my everyday speech. A child up to no good will smile madly in effort to distract you from discovering the new worm habitat in his bedroom.

Grinagog

Also known as The Cat’s Uncle. A foolish grinning fellow, one who grins without reason.

Three people drinking punch as a cure for (from right to left) gout, colic, and phthisis. Coloured etching by James Gillray, 1799, Wellcome Library collections.

Three people drinking punch as a cure for (from right to left) gout, colic, and phthisis. Coloured etching by James Gillray, 1799, Wellcome Library collections.

To use more cant, a Grinagog will use his or her grinders (teeth) to full effect.

A French Dentist Shewing a Specimen of His Artificial Teeth and False Palates. Thomas Rowland, 1811, Tate Museum.

A French Dentist Shewing a Specimen of His Artificial Teeth and False Palates. Thomas Rowland, 1811, Tate Museum.

And there’s nothing like the grin of silly fools in full flirt.

A Long Headed Minuet. 1810, Isaac Cruikshank, GJ Savile Caricatures

A Long Headed Minuet. 1810, Isaac Cruikshank, GJ Savile Caricatures

 

Slang term taken from 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue.