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Traveller in the Glens: 'Our Antrim Dialect' (pt 3)Where there are many people of the same surname and Christian name in a district, which is a legacy from the clan times, they were identified by special labels, such as ‘Red Jamie’, ‘White Jamie’, ‘Long Willie’, ‘Souple Barney’, ‘Jimmie’ or ‘Jamie Ban’ (white, note the Gaelic term). ‘Dan Roe’ (ruadh – red) or some territorial designation such as ‘Dan o’ the Hill’, ‘Wullie o’ the Black Burn’, and even ‘Wullie’s Dan’s Jamie’ is likely to occur, though the most complicated name I have heard went something like this:‘Wullie Tam o’ the Midgey Corner’s son’s woman’s brother’s wean. ’Sort that out! In ordinary conversation a Glensman will refer to his wife as ‘my woman' and his children are the ‘weans’ though matriarchy is not unknown.To the ‘weans’ their father is ‘our oul' fella’ and their mother is ‘the oul' lady’ – but do not imagine that any want of respect for their parents is to be inferred from this! Nowhere do mother and father get more real love and obedience from their children than in the homes of the Glens, and to few places did the ‘Americay money’ flow back in greater profusion during the days of unrestricted emigration. Even today in Green Point, Brooklyn, the accents of the Glens can be clearly distinguished, and in parts of California Glensfolk have formed little colonies of their own, while Montreal, Quebec and Ottawa have all large numbers of Antrim Coast emigrants or their descendants. Have you ever heard of the ‘beverage' of a hat (pronounced ‘beeverage’)? This is what happens when a Glens girl enters a room wearing a new hat for the first time:the young man who spots her is entitled to ‘gie her the beverage omit’, i. e. kiss her, and the chance is seldom let slip! Sometimes two of them may each imagine he saw it first but a diplomatic young lady can easily settle that argument and please both of them! Dr William Grant, editor of the Scottish National Dictionary, wrote to a Belfast newspaper in which an article of mine appeared, pointing out that the word ‘beverage' was in use in some parts of Scotland, with meaning something the same as ours, yet the expression (and custom) are as unknown in any other part of Ulster as growing mistletoe! I once heard a middle-aged farmer describing one of his infrequent visits to a cinema. ‘Thon puke! ’said he, ‘with the mouth like a Christie minstrel, an' the swinged (singed) eyebrows, she give me a scunner, she did! ’To ‘take a scunner' at anything means to develop a deep repugnance to it, a dislike that would almost make you ‘boke’ (retch). ‘It was that dark I couldn’t see a stime’ (ray of light) is another common saying, and it is quite on the cards that on a night like that the traveller suddenly heard a ‘wild skreighing’ coming from the side of the road, followed by a ‘fisslin’ (rustling)in the hedge, then out of the darkness, enveloped in a glow of light, came a banshee and perched on her ‘hunkers’ (haunches) on a nearby wall! If you are ever in the Nine Glens at mushroom time, you may be warned not to pull ‘puddockstools’, which warning may not be needed as you knew toadstools long ago, but you may be excused for not knowing the difference between a ‘puddockstool’ and a ‘puddocksteel’ (mushroom). The person who digs up a large potato in his garden and may be ‘tovey’ (i. e. inclined to boast) about it is likely to be reminded that over-large spuds are mostly ‘bose’ (hollow). ‘A ‘brave’ sort of a boy,’ a ‘brave’ wean, a ‘brave’ hizzy have nothing to do with the courage of the young man, child or girl thus referred to. Brave, one of the words of French derivation, in our country means a fine young man or a good sort of girl or a well-developed child. There is, of course, a ‘brave’ day which is not altogether a good day but fair to middling. Perhaps Mary Ellen and her chum Maggie Kate are out for a walk and meet two boys. If Mary Ellen – either innocently or of malice aforethought – shoves her arm through that of Davie and walks him off leaving her with Willie (for whom she has ‘no gra’) it is possible that the upshot may be – as described by Willie: Maggie Kate ‘strunted’ an’ hardly opened her mouth, till at last I could thole it no longer. ‘Maggie Kate,’ sez I, ‘are you like that doll m’sister’s wean hez?’ ‘What d’ye mane, ’sez she. ‘I mane this,’ sez I, puttin’ my arm roun’ her. ‘D’ye only talk when ye’re squeezed?’ She landed me a ‘sotherer’ of a ‘dunner’ on the ‘lug’ made it ‘bizz’ for half an hour after but she laughed all the same, an’ I’m to see her the morra night.’ A ‘scradyin’ is a small, undersized person, a ‘grogach' is a leprechaun or Puck-ish type of fairy, reputed to spend most of his time sitting over a crock of gold and mending small shoes (or brogues) as a blind. A ‘brose' is a big, fat person, an uncomplimentary reference except when applied to a baby. On the other hand, it’s a ‘carried-away lookin’ crathur' is used to refer to a baby that looks unlovely and underfed like one that the fairies had left – a changeling, in fact. ‘Sonsy' is a woman who is built on generous lines, or ‘curves’. ‘Crabb-ed' is cross and ‘carnaptious’ conveys almost the same meaning. ‘Cassey’ is the (usually) paved yard in front of a farmhouse. ‘In spales’ – in fragments. A group of houses up to about half-a-dozen is called a ‘clachan’ – a name commonly used in the Scottish Highlands – but in the northern Glens such as Glenaan or Glendun the name for any small collection of dwellings is ‘a town of houses’. Here, too, we have ‘ing’ pronounced ‘een’ as walkeen, talkeen, courteen, etc., and another notable point about Glenaan or Glendun English is its resemblance to the English of the Hebrides. This, of course, is due to the fact that until less than a century ago the language of both the Hebrides and the Northern Glens was mainly Gaelic and both people speak English with a copy-book correctness that sounds pedantic to others who have a more slipshod enunciation. About Glenarm and Carnlough the Lowland Scottish infiltration is obvious. A native of either village says ‘cannae’ or ‘dinnae’ for cannot or don’t, uses ‘no’ for not – A’m no gonna gie him ony mair’ (I’m not going to give him any more). The funny part about it is that Glenarm is divided into two classes of speakers, the users of Elizabethan and fairly grammatical modern English and the lowland ‘Burns’ dialect users. From the Appletree Press title: Traveller in the Glens (pb), click here for more information.
Part 1 of this 'Traveller in the Glens' Antrim Dialect article |
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