Chapter 6

Law and order

The police force takes its name from Latin politia ‘government’, a word which goes back to Greek polis ‘city’—from which we also get policy. Among many nicknames for the police is the term Old Bill. This name originates in a cartoon character of a complaining Cockney soldier created by Bruce Bairnsfather (1888–1959) during the First World War. The character was later adopted by the Metropolitan Police, dressed in police uniform, on recruitment posters, leading to the employment of the term as a name for the force. The nineteenth-century detectives replaced the peelers, the first London constables, who drew their name from the British politician Sir Robert Peel, who was responsible for their introduction in 1829 when he was Home Secretary. Although the term peeler has not survived, we still use bobby (coined in allusion to Peel’s Christian name) to refer to the humble policeman on the beat—a term for the route walked while on duty. Before the peelers, the London streets were patrolled by the Bow Street Runners (1749–1839).

The lowest-ranking police officer is the constable; borrowed from French, this term represents the Latin comes stabuli, meaning ‘count of the stable’—referring to the head officer tasked with the upkeep of the horses. The shift from chief groom to a principal officer in a household, and subsequently to a military commander, is paralleled by marshal, discussed below. Names for other police ranks are fairly self-explanatory: inspector is from Latin inspicere ‘to look into’; superintendent is from Latin superintendere ‘to supervise’; commander from Latin commandare ‘to command’; and commissioner from Latin committere ‘entrust’ (also the source of commit). Officers who are members of the CID (Criminal Investigation Department) have the word detective added before their rank.

Detective, originally detective policeman (from Latin detegere ‘to uncover’), was first used to refer to someone whose job it was to solve a crime using methods of surveillance and close investigation in the nineteenth century. This was the period in which the detective novel was born, memorably labelled the age of ‘detective fever’ by Wilkie Collins, author of The Moonstone (1868), one of the earliest and finest whodunnits. The novel features Sergeant Cuff, a template for many of the most famous fictional detectives; Cuff was inspired by the real-life Inspector Jonathan Whicher, best known today for his investigation of the Road Hill murder, memorably recounted by Kate Summerscale in The Suspicions of Mr Whicher (2008).

The introduction of the plainclothes detective in England slightly postdates a parallel development in France, where the Brigade de la Sûreté was founded in 1811 by Eugène Vidocq. Despite having got there first, the French language has subsequently adopted the English word as détective. In English, detective is shortened to the slang terms tec and dick (or private dick), which may in turn be lengthened as Richard, or private Richard. In mid-nineteenth-century America investigating officers were known as Pinkertons, or Pinkerton detectives, after Scotsman Allan Pinkerton, who set up an investigating bureau in Chicago in 1850. American detectives are also known as gumshoes, hinting at the way detectives operated by stealth. To act by stealth originally referred to a secret act of appropriation without permission—it is etymologically linked to steal; the word’s modern use has preserved the association with clandestine or secretive behaviour, but lost its connections with pilfering. The US detective is also known as a private eye; while the image of an eye secretly observing is very apt for a detective, the term originated as a pun on the initial letter of investigator. Investigator is itself from Latin vestigium ‘footprint’ (also the root of vestige ‘trace’) referencing one method of tracking a potential criminal. The word sleuth, another nineteenth-century development in the lexicon of detection, was originally sleuth-hound, the term for a bloodhound with an acute sense of smell used for pursuing a sleuth—from the Old Norse word sloð, meaning ‘track, trail’. The parallel between hunting villains and foxes lies behind Sherlock Holmes’s famous exclamation The game’s afoot!, as he rallies Watson to prepare for action. This phrase is a reduced form of on foot, and refers to the hunted animal being on its feet and prepared to run.

Also of hunting origin is the term red herring, a misleading clue, which originally described the way a cured herring takes on a red hue as a result of the smoking process. Smoked herring were employed to set a false hunting trail, tricking the hounds into following the scent, and thereby exercising the horses which pursued them. In the nineteenth century it was incorrectly assumed that the laying of red herring was a deliberate attempt to distract the hounds from the pursuit of the hunted animal, or quarry—originally the term for the parts of the butchered deer that were given to the hounds as a reward (from Anglo Norman cuir ‘skin’, because it was placed on the hide). This idea of a deliberate deception lies behind the use of the term in detective fiction as a false clue intentionally designed to mislead.

Nowadays detectives draw upon the latest advances in forensic sciences; this term derives from Latin forum—the name for the assembly place in Rome where public business, including judicial matters, was handled. But others rely on more traditional methods, such as an intuition or hunch—from a verb meaning to nudge someone in order to direct their attention. The great fictional detective Hercule Poirot was rather disdainful of such methods, preferring instead to rely on the workings of his little grey cells.

The methods of surveillance used by police detectives have much in common with those involved in the spy trade. Surveillance comes from the French sur ‘over’ and veiller ‘to watch’, itself from Latin vigilare ‘to keep awake’. Espionage, the practice of governments using spies to obtain political or military secrets from their rivals, derives from Old French espier ‘to spy’, which is also the root of spy (modern French espion). The clandestine (from Latin clam ‘secretly’) nature of the job means that a number of vaguer euphemisms are commonly employed, such as operative, agent, asset, intelligence officer—even the term secretary has its origins in the spy trade, since it was originally used of a confidential agent, as its etymology implies (from Latin secretum ‘secret’). Slang terms, however, can be more descriptive, such as spook, referencing the agent’s shadowy existence, or sleeper, used of an undercover spy who has been inactive for a time. A mole is an operative who spends long periods working undercover—just as a mole burrows deep underground—achieving the trust and confidence of a state or organization, and passing on confidential information. In the seventeenth century, spies were also known as flies—a reference to their ability to gain access to private areas, preserved in the expression fly on the wall. Since the 1930s, the job of listening to private conversations has been carried out by a concealed recording device known as a bug. A less high-tech method of overhearing a private conversation is to engage in eavesdropping. The origins of this term lie in the eavesdrop—originally eaves drip—an Old English word for the part of the ground surrounding a building where the rainwater that drips off the side of the building falls.

Unsurprisingly, a number of terms associated with espionage are of Russian extraction. An agent who runs a network of spies in a foreign country is known as a resident—a rendering of the Russian rezident, used in the same sense but originally referring to a member of the diplomatic service. Disinformation, the practice of deliberately spreading false information—also known as black propaganda and more recently fake news—is from Russian dezinformacija. Also of Russian origin is Smersh, the popular name of the Russian counter-espionage organization set up during the Second World War with responsibility for ensuring security within the Soviet intelligence service. Despite its rather comic-sounding name, its origins are rather more sinister—it is an abbreviation of Russian smert’ shpionam, which means ‘death to spies’. Its earliest appearance in English was in the first of Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels, Casino Royale (1953).

Members of the British army are divided into various ranks indicative of their status. Within the officer category, these include general (originally captain general, from French capitaine général ‘commander-in-chief’); brigadier (properly brigadier general—a general in charge of a brigade, from Italian brigata ‘company’); colonel, going back to Latin columna ‘column’, referring to a commander in charge of a column of soldiers, while a corporal oversaw a body of soldiers (Latin corpus). A lieutenant is one who takes the place of another, or who acts on behalf of a superior, from French lieu ‘place’ and tenant ‘holding’, such as a captain (from Latin caput ‘head’). An adjutant, the army term for an assisting officer, was originally used of a helper—it is from Latin adjutans ‘being of service to’. Sergeant, a rank used by several of the forces, is from Latin servire ‘to serve’, originally used of an attendant or common soldier. The word soldier goes back to the Latin solidus, the name for a gold coin with which Roman soldiers were paid for their service.

The RAF ranks make use of the terms commander, ‘one who commands’, and marshal, originally the term for someone whose job was to look after horses, from Old English mearh ‘horse’ (as in mare) and scealc ‘servant’. Since horses occupied a prominent role in medieval warfare, the term came to be used to refer to important positions in the royal household and the army. In the navy the chief rank is that of admiral, from Arabic amir ‘commander’; the ‘al’ ending is a form of the definite article equivalent to the—in full the title was amir-al-umara ‘ruler of rulers’. Also unique to the navy is the rank of ensign—from Latin insignia ‘signs of office’; this was originally used of a badge of office or a banner, and then of the flag-bearer or soldier responsible for carrying the ensign. The origins of the rank of midshipman are rather more self-explanatory; it is quite simply a reference to the location on the ship where the officer was stationed.

The law

The word law is drawn from the Old Norse word lagu, the plural of lag ‘something laid down or fixed’, as in a market price, or the terms of a partnership. Surprisingly, this word is not thought to be related to Latin lex ‘law’, which is the source of legal and, via Old French loial, loyal. The Latin lex derives from the same root as legere ‘to read, collect, gather’, also the source of legend and lecture. Another Latin word for the law, jus, is the root of just and justice. Judge is also of Latin origin; it derives from Latin judex, the title for the person who decided a case in a court of law, which comprises jus ‘law, right’ and dicus ‘speaking’. The Old English word for a law or judgement was dom—the root of modern English doom, which is etymologically related to the verb to do. Today doom is associated with condemning someone to death and destruction; it is also preserved in Doomsday—the Old English name for the Christian concept of the Last Judgement. A judgement that is particularly severe may be described as draconian. This is a reference to a Greek lawmaker of the seventh century bc named Draco, whose laws were famous for their harshness.

A barrister was originally known as a barrister-at-law; the name is a reference to the bar at which they stand (from Latin barra), and modelled on nouns like chorister and minister. The same root (via Italian barista) gives us barista, originally a bartender, but more commonly now someone who works in a coffee shop. In Scotland, the equivalent title for a person who supports another in a legal case is advocate, from Latin advocatus (itself from advocare ‘to summon’). A devil’s advocate, originally someone pleading an evil cause, now refers to a person deliberately adopting a contentious viewpoint in order to provoke discussion or to test a particular theory. Although its origins lie in the Nahuatl (a language spoken by the Aztecs in Mexico) word ahuacatl, the word avocado has been influenced by the Spanish word for an advocate, following confusion concerning the two words in the seventeenth century. Although Spanish now uses aguacate for the avocado pear, in French avocat refers to both the fruit and the lawyer. Uncertainty over this newfangled term in seventeenth-century England prompted the reinterpretation of avocado as alligator pear. Other terms for legal representatives are attorney (from Old French atorner ‘to assign’), and solicitor (from Latin sollicitus ‘anxious’). A notary, or notary public, who is licensed to draw up contracts, was originally a clerk or secretary, from Latin notarius—derived from nota ‘mark’.

In the courtroom, the accused is made to stand in the dock. Originally designed to hold all the various criminals who were due to stand trial on a particular day, the word probably derives from the Flemish dok, designating a ‘chicken coop’. The jury takes its name from Latin jurare ‘to swear’; someone who swears an oath in court that they know to be untrue has committed perjury, from Latin perjurium ‘false oath’. Both testify and testimony go back to Latin testis ‘witness’—the same word may lie behind testicles, which get their name from the idea that they testify to a man’s virility. A meeting convened for judicial purposes in Anglo-Saxon England was known as a moot. This word survives today as the name given to a mock trial at which university law students learn the skills of debating and trying invented cases. Because issues discussed at a moot were frequently open to debate and difficult to resolve, this gave rise to the phrase moot point—referring to any issue that is similarly open to discussion. The association of the moot today with debating hypothetical cases for purely academic purposes has led to the additional sense of ‘abstract, irrelevant’—now the main sense in the US. If a hearing is adjourned, it is stopped in order to be resumed at a later date. Its original sense, however, was a summons to appear in court on a particular day; this meaning is reflected in its etymology—it is from Old French ajorner, literally ‘to a day’. The Greek word for an eyewitness, autoptes, literally ‘seen by self’, is the origin of autopsy—an investigation into the cause of a person’s death.

It’s clear from this discussion that the language of the law is heavily indebted to Latin; indeed, many legal phrases used today remain entirely in Latin. A lawyer who works on a case pro bono has waived the right to charge a fee; this phrase is a contracted form of the Latin pro bono publico ‘for the public good’. A writ that requires attendance in court to answer a charge is known as a subpoena; failure to appear will incur a penalty. Meaning ‘under penalty’, the subpoena takes its name from the opening words of a Latin writ issued by the Court of Chancery in the fifteenth century, requiring a defendant to appear in court to answer a charge; non-attendance would incur a penalty. Affidavit, a written statement confirmed by oath that is used as evidence in a court, is the third person singular past tense form of the Latin verb affidare; the word literally means ‘he has stated on oath’.

Some legal terms have lost their technical sense and entered the language more generally. An apology was initially a legal term for a speech given in defence of a person in response to a specific charge (from Greek apo ‘away’ and logia ‘speaking’). In subsequent developments it was used non-technically to describe an explanation, and then one that was accompanied by an expression of regret for any offence caused. Also originating in legal parlance is ignoramus; from a Latin word meaning ‘we do not know’, this word was initially a verdict made by a jury when confronted with insufficient evidence. Today an innuendo is a sly remark or hint, but its origins lie in the glossing of legal documents. Its original Latin meaning is ‘by nodding at’, from in ‘towards’ and nuere ‘to nod’; it was added to legal documents in the sense ‘that is to say’, as an introduction to an explanation or gloss. A similar development may be seen in the verb insinuate. This word is now used to refer to an oblique hint or suggestion, but originally referred to the process of entering a record into a legal register. Paraphernalia is now used of a collection of miscellaneous objects; its origins, however, lie in a legal term referring to the property owned by a woman that was not transferred to her husband on marriage—it derives from the Greek term parapherna, meaning ‘property apart from a dowry’.

Other examples are words that have preserved their legal sense, but have developed a looser, non-technical meaning. For example, in court a defendant may offer an alibi—evidence showing that, at the time an offence was committed, the person concerned was somewhere else and so could not have been the perpetrator. This is a borrowing of the Latin alibi ‘elsewhere’, a form of alius ‘another’ (also the root of alien); the word has been used in this legal sense since the eighteenth century, but more recently it has developed the looser sense of ‘excuse’ or ‘pretext’.

Crime

The words crime and criminal go back to Latin crimen ‘charge, accusation’, ultimately deriving from a base related to cernere ‘to separate, decide’, or more technically in legal usage ‘to make known a determination’—also found in discern. Felony was originally the term used for a more serious crime; it originates in an Old French word meaning ‘wicked’, which is the source of the word fell ‘cruel’, preserved in the phrase one fell swoop—originally a quotation from Macbeth—often mistakenly reinterpreted today as one foul swoop. More minor crimes were known as misdemeanours, which literally means ‘bad behaviour’. Although it is now used of a criminal attack on a person, the term assault originates in a Latin word meaning ‘leap upon’, from ad ‘towards’ and salire ‘to leap’. In legal parlance assault can be used to refer to the threat of such an attack, while the word battery (from French battre ‘to beat’) is added when the physical threat has been carried out. Affray, a legal term describing a disturbance of the peace, originally referred to the state of being alarmed or frightened, and is from the same root as afraid.

Blackmail, the practice of demanding money in exchange for silence, goes back to a sixteenth-century tribute demanded by Scottish chiefs from farmers in return for protection. The term itself derives from the obsolete mail, ‘rent, tribute’, borrowed from Old Norse. The idea of black mail may have been influenced by the existence of white rent, a duty that was paid by a freeholder in lieu of services; here the use of the colour term is probably the result of confusion over the term quit-rent. Arson—deliberately setting fire to someone else’s property—goes back to the Latin ardere ‘to burn’—also the source of ardent, literally ‘burning’, but now used metaphorically to mean ‘extremely keen’. Embezzlement, the term used in corporate fraud for misappropriating money that belongs to an organization, is from the Anglo-Norman enbesiler ‘to make off with’, which is related to Old French besillier ‘ravage’. Forgery derives from the use of the verb to forge, meaning ‘fashion, construct’—itself descended from the Latin fabricare, the origin of fabricate ‘to make something with skill’, now more commonly used to mean ‘to invent something in order to deceive’. Libel and slander are both terms that refer to making false statements that damage the reputation of another person. The key difference being that, whereas slander (a variant form of scandal—from Latin scandalum ‘cause of offence’) is a spoken statement, libel is used to refer to a claim that has been published—reflecting its origins in Latin libellus, the diminutive form of liber ‘book’.