Words said to be ‘U’ Words said to be ‘non-U’
luncheon
dinner
sick ill
writing-paper note-paper
table-napkin serviette
lavatory toilet
vegetables greens
pudding sweet
riding horse-riding
looking-glass mirror
Scotch Scottish
Some Victorian views about ‘woman’ and ‘lady’
Uncle Julius turned round, and in a voice of thunder, audible to every one on the road, exclaimed, ‘Ignorant and presumptuousyoung woman!’ He had never seen her till that day. As she said to me years after, when she was a wife and mother, ‘That the Archdeacon should call me ignorant and presumptuous was trying, but I could bear that very well; but that he should call me a young woman was not to be endured!’
Augustus Hare, The Story of My Life
‘I’m sure she’s clever’. ‘Yes, I think she’s clever.’ ‘And, and – womanly in her feelings.’ Mrs Gresham felt that she could not say ladylike, though she would fain have done so, had she dared.
Anthony Trollope, Framley Parsonage
How often he had spoken scornfully of that word ‘lady’! Were not all of the sex women? What need for that hateful distinction?
George Gissing, Demos
[Mrs Brattle] was a modest, pure, high-minded woman – whom we will not call a lady, because of her position in life, and because she darned stockings in a kitchen.
Anthony Trollope, The Vicar of Bullhampton
Some of the U/non-U distinctions have been a source of debate for decades. The question of whether we should call females ladies or women, and males men or gentlemen, is still raised today – just as it was over a century ago. Here is an extract from a Victorian book of etiquette, Society Small Talk, or What to Say and When to Say it (1879):
In common parlance a man is always a man to a man and never a gentleman; to a woman he is occasionally a man and occasionally a gentleman; but a man would far oftener term a woman ‘a woman’ than he would term her ‘a lady’. When a man makes use of an adjective in speaking of a lady, he almost invariably calls her a woman: thus he would say, ‘I met a rather agreeable woman at dinner last night’; but he would not say, ‘I met an agreeable lady’… but he might say, ‘A lady, a friend of mine, told me’, when he would not say ‘A woman, a friend of mine, told me’ Again, a man would say, ‘Which of the ladies did you take in to dinner?’ He would certainly not say, ‘Which of the women…?’
Why not? The author does not go into the matter. And even today, the factors governing our preferences in this area of usage are little understood, as debates over cleaning lady/woman, ladies’/women’s final, young lady/woman, and so on continue to show.
13
English Around the World
Historical approaches to the English language inevitably begin with ‘Englalond’, and largely restrict their story to what took place in educated standard English in southern Britain (Chapters 10–12). But, from the late Old English period, it is necessary to broaden the perspective. Other things happened to English, apart from what went on in London and the south-east of England. In due course, there developed other standard
‘Not the full translation, just the gist of what they’re saying.’
Punch, 17 March 1982
varieties of English as a mother tongue, each with its own complex social history.
Scotland
The first developments occurred in Scotland. After the fifth-century invasions, what is now the north-east of England and the south-east of Scotland came to be occupied by the Angles, whose way of speech gradually led to a distinctive variety of English – the Northumbrian dialect (see p. 174). During the Old English period, most of Scotland was Celtic-speaking (primarily the variety known as Gaelic), but the number of English speakers in the southern part of the country was much increased in the eleventh century, following the French invasion of 1066. Many English noblemen became refugees, and fled north, where they were welcomed by the Scots King Malcolm III (most widely known as the slayer of Macbeth, as recounted by Shakespeare).
During the twelfth century, the move north continued, with many southern families being invited to settle in the area by King David I – notably in the new chartered royal estates known as burhs (such as Aberdeen and Edinburgh). These places were largely English-speaking, and gradually English spread through the whole lowlands area, with Gaelic remaining beyond the Highland line.
This Scots English became increasingly different from that used in England, especially in pronunciation and vocabulary, and many of these differences are still heard today. In pronunciation, for example, there was the use of the ch sound in the middle of such words as nicht (‘night’). The vowel in such words as guid (‘good’) was often made longer, and produced further forward in the mouth than it was in southern English. A distinction is made between the first sound of which and witch. A common spelling difference is that, where southern English writes wh-, older Scots used quh-. There were also some distinctive grammatical endings, such as the use of -it for the past tense (trublit for troubled). Many Gaelic words were assimilated, such as bog, cairn, corrie, glen, loch, pibroch and whisky. And there were a number of words from other languages which did not enter the standard English of England, such as bonny (beautiful, handsome), from French bon, and ashet (a serving dish) from assiette.
In the thirteenth century, these and other differences amounted to a considerable divergence between the English of Scotland and that of England, and this was increased by the split between the nations which followed Edward I of England’s attempt at annexation, and the subsequent long period of conflict. By the late Middle Ages, Middle Scots had evolved as far from Old English as had the Middle English of England, and in a different direction. It has been suggested that the two varieties were as far apart then as, say, Danish and Swedish are now. And, as a result, some writers on the period refer to the two varieties as distinct ‘languages’ – and continue to do so, when discussing modern Scots. The point is controversial, as the question of whether two kinds of speech are one language or two depends as much on social and political considerations as on linguistic ones.
Verses from William Dunbar’s Lament for the Makaris (Elegy for the Poets), written about 1505. The Latin line is taken from the Office of the Dead, and translates ‘The fear of death troubles me’.
The stait of man dois [does] change and vary,
Now sound, now seik [sick], now blith, now sary [sorry],
Now dansand [dancing] mery, now like to dee [die];
Timor mortis conturbat me.
No stait in erd [earth] heir standis sickir [secure]
As with the wynd wavis [waves] the wickir [willow],
Wavis this warldis [world’s] vanité;
Timor mortis conturbat me.
From the end of the fourteenth century to the beginning of the seventeenth, there was a flowering of literature in Scots, a period which reached its peak in the poetry of the fifteenth-century authors Robert Henryson and William Dunbar. But during the seventeenth century, the Scots literary language began to decay, as it fell increasingly under the influence of the southern standard. The main factor was the uniting of the crowns of Scotland and England in 1603, and the move to London of James VI and the Scottish Court – a move which led in due course to the adoption among the upper classes of southern English norms of speech. As James I of England, the new King ordered that the Authorized Version of the Bible (see p. 216) be used in Scotland, thus spreading further the influence of the southern standard as a prestige form.
Lowland Scots (or ‘Lallans’, as it is often called) was kept alive in literature, notably in the poetry of Robert Burns (1759–96), and the tales of Walter Scott (1771–1832), and there is today a considerable reawakening of interest in it, in literature, scholarship, and to some extent the media. But in the educated spoken language, it was largely replaced by standard s
outhern English, spoken with any of a wide range of Scots accents, and containing a few grammatical differences and varying amounts of regional vocabulary and idiomatic phrasing. It is this variety which is these days referred to as standard Scottish English.
The gap between Scots and southern English is well illustrated by this story, written probably by Andrew Boorde about 1540, about a Scot who went to live in the south, and who wanted to have a carpenter make him a boar’s head sign. The author spells some of the words to represent the Scots pronunciation.
And he wente to London to haue a Bores head made. He dyd come to a Caruer (or a Joyner) saying in his mother tongue, I saye spek, kens thou meke me a Bare heade? Ye said the Caruer. Then sayd the skotyshman, mek me a bare head anenst Yowle [before Yule], an thowse bus [you shall] haue xx pence for thy hyre. I wyll doe it sayde the Caruer. On S. And rewes daye before Chrystmas (the which is named Yowle in Scotland, and in England in the north) the skottish man did com to London for his Bores heade to set at a dore for a signe. I say speke said the skotish man, haste thou made me a Bare head? Yea, said the Caruer. Then thowse a gewd fellow. The Caruer went and did brying a mans head of wod that was bare and sayd, syr here is youre bare head. I say sayde the skotyshman, the mokyl deuill [great devil], is this a bare head? Ye said the caruer. I say sayd the skotyshman, I will have a bare head, syk [such] an head as doth follow a Sew [sow] that hath Gryces [piglets]. Syr said the caruer, I can not tel what is a Sew, nor what is a Gryce. Whet herson [whoreson], kenst thou not a sew that wil greet and grone, and her gryces wil run after her and cry a weke. O said the Caruer, it is a pigge. Yea said the skotish man, let me haue his fathers head made in timber…
Here a man maye see that euerye man doth delight in his owne sences…
Some words and phrases from everyday Scottish English
aye
yes
brae
slope, hillside
burn
stream
dram
drink (usually of whisky)
dreich
dull
janitor
caretaker
loch
lake
outwith
outside
pinkie
little finger
provost
mayor
rone (pipe)
drainpipe
wee
small
Away to your… Go to your…
Do you mind when…? Do you remember when…?
I doubt she’s not in I expect she’s not in
I’m finished it I’m finished
the back of 3 o’clock soon after 3 o’clock
Ireland
The history of English involvement in Gaelic-speaking Ireland dates from the twelfth century, with the invasion of the country by Anglo-Norman knights, and the subsequent rule of King Henry II. English law was introduced almost immediately. The new settlers, however, were to adopt Irish ways of living, and despite attempts to halt this trend, the area of English control (known as the ‘Pale’) was still relatively small by the end of the sixteenth century.
But during the sixteenth century, renewed efforts were made by the Tudor monarchs to establish English control throughout the country. Plantation schemes were set up to encourage English settlers in the south, and support was given to promote the spirit of the Reformation. The Irish chiefs were defeated in a series of wars during the reign of Elizabeth I, and this was followed by a renewed influx of Protestant settlers, mainly from the Scottish Lowlands. James I made available large tracts of land in the north of Ireland, and over 100,000 came to develop plantations there. Further campaigns to quell Irish rebellion took place in the
The areas of differing linguistic influence in Scotland and Ireland
seventeenth century – notably the one led by Oliver Cromwell in 1649-50. Then in 1803 the Act of Union made Ireland part of the United Kingdom – a situation which remained until the 1920s, when there was partition between north (Northern Ireland, often referred to as Ulster) and south.
The linguistic consequence of these events was a steady development in the use of English, and a corresponding decline in the use of Gaelic, except among the poorer sections of the population. Today, English is used everywhere, with Gaelic found only in certain rural parts of the west – notwithstanding its status as an official language in the Irish Republic alongside English. Since the nineteenth century, there have been several attempts to encourage the spread of Gaelic, but these have not affected the dominance of English. Even in the north, where the conflict was originally identified with the two languages, nowadays both sides use English (though the different linguistic backgrounds of the Protestant and Catholic communities – Ulster Scots and Gaelic respectively – are to some extent reflected in distinct styles of pronunciation, grammar, and vocabulary).
Some Irish English words
afeared
afraid
airy
light-hearted
blather
talk nonsense
bold
naughty
cog
(to) cheat
delph
crockery
garda
police
mannerly
well-mannered
shore
drain
yoke
thingummy
Some grammatical features of Southern Irish
The use of let in commands: Let you have a try (You have a try).
The use of after to express recent past time: I’m after going to town (I’ve just gone to town).
The use of the -ing ending in certain verbs: It’s belonging to me (It belongs to me).
The use of Gaelic-influenced word orders: Is it ready you are? (Are you ready?)
A few Northern Ireland usages
The use of but, meaning ‘though’: I never went there, but.
The use of from, meaning ‘since’: He’s been here from he left the navy.
The use of whenever, meaning ‘when’: I bought it whenever I was living in Belfast.
And a fragment of Dublin speech, according to James Joyce
‘But still and all he kept on saying that before the summer was over he’d go out for a drive one fine day just to see the old house again where we were all born down in Irishtown, and take me and Nannie with him. If we could only get one of them new-fangled carriages that makes no noise that Father O’Rourke told him about, them with the rheumatic wheels, for the day cheap – he said, at Johnny Rush’s over the way there and drive out the three of us together of a Sunday evening. He had his mind set on that… Poor James!’
‘The Lord have mercy on his soul!’ said my aunt.
‘The Sisters’, Dubliners, 1914
There is as yet little sign of a regionally distinctive educated standard in Ireland; but there are many cases of words, idioms, and grammatical patterns in informal, non-standard speech which are characteristic of the area, some of which have been influenced by Gaelic. Much that is special about Irish English has been given literary expression in the poetry of W. B. Yeats (1865–1939), the plays of J. M. Synge (1871–1909) and the novels of James Joyce (1882–1941), and the interest these authors generated in this variety continues to be found in the work of contemporary authors.
America
The most significant step in the progress of English towards its status as a world language took place in the last decades of the sixteenth century, with the arrival of the expeditions commissioned by Walter Raleigh to the ‘New World’. The first venture was a failure. In 1584 the first group of explorers landed near Roanoke Island, in what is today called North Carolina, and established a small settlement. But conflict with the Indians followed, and it proved necessary for a ship to return to England for help and supplies. By the time those arrived, in 1590, none of the original group of settlers could be found. The mystery of their disappearance has never been solved.
The first permanent English settle
ment dates from 1607, when an expedition arrived in Chesapeake Bay, and called the settlement Jamestown, after James I. Further settlements quickly followed along the coast, and also on the nearby islands – Bermuda, and later the Bahamas. Then, in 1620, the first group of Puritan settlers arrived on the Mayflower – the ‘Pilgrim Fathers’ – searching for a land where they could found a new religious kingdom ‘purified’ from the practices which they found unacceptable in the English Church of the time. They landed at Cape Cod, in Plymouth, Massachusetts, and established a settlement there (a way of life which has in recent times been lovingly recreated by a group of ‘living history’ enthusiasts). By 1640 around 25,000 people had settled in the area.
It’s important to appreciate that these two patterns of settlement resulted in different linguistic consequences. The southern explorers came mainly from the West Country, and brought with them the characteristic west-country accent, with its ‘Zummerzet’ voicing of s sounds, and the r pronounced after vowels. Strong hints of this accent can still be heard in the speech of communities living in some of the isolated valleys and islands in the area, such as Tangier Island in Chesapeake Bay. These ‘Tidewater’ accents, as they are called, will have changed somewhat over the past 300 years, but not as rapidly (because of the relative isolation of the speakers) as elsewhere in the country. They are sometimes said to be the closest we will ever get to the sound of Shakespearean English.
The English Language: A Guided Tour of the Language Page 24