P.
Pad.—The highway, or a robber thereon; also a bed. Footpads, foot robbers. To go out upon the pad, to go out in order to commit a robbery. To pad the hoof, to walk. Padding-ken, a tramp’s lodging-house.
Paddington Fair Day.—An execution day; Tyburn being in the parish or neighbourhood of Paddington. To dance the Paddington frisk, to be hanged.
Pal.—A companion, one who generally accompanies another, or who commit robberies together.
Parker.—To part or pay money.
Patter.—To speak. Patterer, a noisy talkative street hawker of songs, last dying speeches, &c.
Patter-Flash.—To talk flash, or the language of thieves.
Paulo, Signor.—Comedian and Clown—the original Billy Waters in the Adelphi Version of “Tom and Jerry,” died July 27, 1835, aged 48.
Pavé.—The town. A nymph of the pavé, a prostitute.
Pea-Green Hayne—Mr.—He was nicknamed “Pea-green” from his folly in reference to Miss Maria Foote, afterwards the Countess of Harrington. It will be remembered that that beautiful and accomplished lady brought an action against Hayne for breach of promise of marriage, and recovered 3000l. damages; but Hayne was not green upon that account; it was an affair which the shrewdest man of fashion might have fallen into. If greenness existed at all in Hayne on that question, it laid in not marrying her. Fate, however, designed for the lady a better match. The eccentric Lord Harrington, though a wild, sporting, boxing spirit, as Lord Petersham, was, as the Earl, one of the most refined gentlemen that ever added grace to a coronet; and it might be fairly said that his Lordship did so. Mr Hayne was a man with a mind well stored; he had experience to aid him. In his association with Ned Baldwin, alias White-headed Bob, the pugilist, whom he trained and backed, and other fast celebrities of the day, he learnt much, though he paid dearly for it.
Peck.—To eat. Peck and Booze, victuals and drink. Peckish, hungry. Peck-alley, the throat.
Peel.—To strip, to undress; allusion to the taking off of the coat or rind of an orange.
Peepers.—Eyes. Single peeper, a one eyed man.
Pewter.—Money, from the close alliance of much of our so-called silver. To stump the pewter, to pay money.
Pierce Egan.—Author of “Tom and Jerry,” died August 3, 1849, aged 77.
Pig and Tinder-box.—A jocular term for the sign of the Elephant and Castle.
Pigs.—Thief-takers, formerly applied to a Bow Street Officer.
Pigeons.—Young beginners, or novices, persons very necessary to be plucked. Also companions of the right sort—birds of a feather.
Pilot.—A watchman.
Pimple.—The head.
Pinks.—Dashing fellows. Pinks of the fashion.
Pipkin.—The head. To crack a pipkin, to break a head.
Pippen.—A good fellow.
Plum.—He is worth a plum—is said of a man possessed of £100,000, and of him who has only realized £50,000, he’s got but “half-a-plum.”
Pockets to Let.—When there’s no money in them—such are best let alone.
Point Nonplus.—Neither money nor credit.
Police.—The London police grew out of the London watch, instituted about 1253; the whole system was remodelled by Mr., afterwards Sir Robert Peel, by 10 Geo. IV., 19th June, and the New Police commenced duty 29th September, 1829. Sir Richard Mayne was appointed Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan District. The new system was not popular with the people, nor with those who deemed they had “vested rights,” and the constables were considered as a target that every one might fire off their chaff and witticism at with impunity. The terms “Bobby and Peeler”—after Robert Peel, immediately became the cant words, together with “Blue Bottles,” “Blue Devils,” the “Royal Blues; or, the Cook’s Own,” and other opprobious terms. Within a month of the establishing of the New Police—viz., on the 14th of October, 1829, one of the members, named John Jones, was charged, at the Hatton Garden Police-station, with stealing a scrag of mutton, from the stall-board of a butcher, named Samuel, in Skinner Street, Somer’s Town. The circumstance having been witnessed by a neighbour, he pursued the policeman, and took him into custody. He had fifteen shillings and sixpence in his pocket. In his defence, he said he was going to take the mutton to show his wife. This was a circumstance that could not be lost sight of by the Seven Dials printers, and several street-papers and ballads were immediately issued on the subject, and continued to find a ready sale for some months; while “Who stole the mutton?” became the by-word. Following is one of the many ballads that appeared:—
The New Policeman,
And the Somers Town Butcher.
Air—“Bob and Joan.”
Hollo! New Police,
Who in blue coats, strut on,
Your fame you wont increase
By stealing joints of mutton,
Who would e’er suppose,
In such handsome rigging,
Spick and span new clothes,
Men would go a prigging?
Hollo! New Police, &c., &c.
At very little cost
Jones wished to have a luncheon;
But now the blade has lost
His uniform and truncheon.
Alas! the worthy soul,
While the victuals bagging,
Tho’ a scrag he stole
Never dreamt of scragging. Hollo! &c., &c.
Off he made a move,
And muttered in retreating,
“D——, this will prove
Very good eating!”
With this bit of meat,
Doubtless quite enraptur’d;
But joy is very fleet,
And Mr. Jones was captur’d. Hollo! &c., &c.
“Oh!” cried Mr. Jones,
“This is inconvenient!
Curse the mutton bones—
Gentlemen, be lenient.
This joint you will remark
(The truth I won’t conceal it),
I borrowed for a lark—
I never meant to steal it.” Hollo! &c., &c.
Here’s a pretty prig,
Thus went Somer’s Sam on,
First my meat to prig,
And then to pitch his gammon.
Borrow’d! blow me tight,
Seeing is believing;
I loves the thing vot’s right,
And always hated thieving. Hollo! &c., &c.
Peel’s new plan, I say,
Ought to be rejected,
If this here’s the way
We’re to be protected.
These coves parade the street
In dashing dark blue habit;
But when they eye our meat,
’Tis ten to one they grab it. Hollo! &c., &c.
’Twas droll to hear the chaff
When they were embodied;
Now it makes me laugh
To see so many quodded.
Thieves may feel secure,
Whate’er the hour or weather,
For Sam is very sure
They are all rogues together. Hollo! &c., &c.
The City of London successfully rejected the introduction of the New Police within their territories. “They worn’t a going to hav’ no new French Police Spy system in their ancient and honourable City,” said Alderman Cute-Grub-Bub-Turtle-and-Soup, “not if ve knows it.” Therefore, no one will be surprised at frequently reading in the newspapers of the period paragraphs like the following:—
THE EFFECTS OF THE NEW POLICE.
At the Guildhall, on Monday, October 12th, 1829, after Sir Peter Laurie had admonished and discharged a disorderly woman, who had been accused of being noisy in the street, he asked her accuser, a watchman, named Livingstone, where his beat was? The watchman said it was from St. Dunstan’s Church to Temple Bar. Do you find any increase of bad characters on your beat? Watchman (smilingly): Yes, I believe I do; the New Policemen drives ’em into the City. Sir Peter: Then you should drive them back again; it would be better than taking them up. Watchman: When there was a quarrel among them the other night, a policeman came up and drove them through the Bar, saying, “Ye shan’t stand here; go into the City with your rows.” Sir Peter Laurie said that he had heard that a police magistrate had directed the policemen to drive all bad characters into the City. If there was any truth in this, it was an imprudent—an improper observation. He desired the watchman present to drive all the bad characters out of the City. The thing must be put down. Subsequently, some vagrants were brought up, and Sir Peter told them to drive them out of the City instead of apprehending them in future. “We can play at tennis-ball,” said the Alderman, in an under tone.
“Who stole the Mutton?” together with many other words and phrases in reference to the supposed partiality of the police to The Cook! The Kitchen!! and The Cold Mutton!!! have clung to the service from the day of its formation to the present time, while comic writers of all degrees, in farces, burlesques, songs, and pantomimes, have never failed to make capital out of the New Police, Peel’s Raw-Lobsters, Peeler’s, Blue Bottles, &c., &c.
Polito’s Beasts.—Polito, the Italian successor to Pidcock’s Zoological Collection, and very famous in his day. Attracted many thousands of spectators every year at Bartholomew Fair.
Pony.—Money. To post the pony, to pay down the money, also the sum of twenty-five pounds.
Poundage Cove.—A fellow who receives poundage for procuring a customer for damaged goods—also a puffer at auction sales.
Prads.—Horses. The swell flashes a fine pair of horses.
Press-Gang.—Reporters, better known, perhaps, as gentlemen connected with the Press!
Prigs.—Pickpockets, and snappers-up of unconsidered trifles in general—from a needle to an anchor!
Prime Twig.—In high condition.
Pudding Sleeves.—A parson.
Pull Out.—To come it strong.
Punch.—From the Indian word punj (five); so called from its five ingredients, viz., spirit, water, lemon, sugar and spice. It was introduced into England from Spain, where it is called ponche. It is said to be a great “contradiction,” because it is composed of spirits to make it strong, and water to make it weak, of lemon juice to make it sour, and sugar to make it sweet.
Pupil’s-straits.—School tuition.