dragoon

I’m not sure what I thought ‘dragoon’ meant, but I think I’ve been conflating it with ‘platoon’ all my life. And maybe also ‘doubloon’.

It turns out that ‘dragoon’ isn’t even a noun (a person, place or thing) – it’s a verb (doing word). If you dragoon someone, it means you pressure or force them into doing something they don’t really want to do. It’s not always aggressive – it could just be heavy-handed persuasion – but it definitely suggests a lack of choice. Think of being ‘dragooned into organising the office Christmas party’ when all you want to do is go home and watch ‘Kirstie’s Handmade Christmas’ with an eggnog. (Every Christmas I thank god I no longer have to run the gauntlet of senior colleagues and free alcohol. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.)

Like many good words, ‘dragoon’ started out in uniform. In the 1600s and 1700s, a dragoon was a mounted European infantryman – someone who rode to battle but fought on foot. They were named after their weapon, a short musket so-called due to its resemblance to a fire-breathing dragon when fired.

Here’s where things get a bit darker. Under Louis XIV in 17th-century France, dragoons were sent to persecute French Protestants (Huguenots) – often moving in with them forcibly and staying until they converted to Catholicism. This coercion was so notorious that ‘dragoon’ eventually became a verb, meaning to force someone to do something, echoing that original, presumably very literal, form of arm-twisting.

So next time someone’s trying to make you do something you don’t want to, try telling them you refuse to be dragooned – it might not get you out of it, but at least your resistance will sound stylish.

slogan

If you hear the word ‘slogan’, you probably think of advertising and Don Draper (or, if you’re a little bit older, of Samantha’s husband Darren in ‘Bewitched’). And you’d be right – the OED defines a ‘slogan’ as ‘a short and striking or memorable phrase used in advertising’. That might make you assume that ‘slogan’ is a fairly modern word. But you would be wrong. Very wrong, in fact…

‘Slogan’ first appeared in writing in the 16th century, but it’s actually much older even than that. Let’s take a little trip to the beautiful Scottish Highlands. ‘Slogan’ comes from a Gaelic term, ‘sluagh-ghairm’, which means ‘battle-cry’ or ‘war-cry’. Scottish Highland clans cried these cries to rally their troops, signal that they were ready to start kicking some ass and to intimidate enemies during battles. Each clan would personalise their battle cries to reflect their identity, heritage and allegiance. I couldn’t find any specific examples of the exact words they used, but historians seem to agree they’d be something along the lines of ‘Die, you English bastards’.

‘Sluagh-ghairm’ was adopted into English as in the 18th century as ‘slogan’. And, as the need for rallying battle cries diminished, it came to represent a memorable phrase used to convey a message.

If all this talk of Scottish battle cries means you’re now thinking of Mel Gibson yelling ‘they’ll never take our freedom!’, then you’d be right. It’s very likely that Scottish warriors at the Battle of Stirling Bridge in 1297 (during the First War of Scottish Independence), led by Mel Gibson, sorry, William Wallace, used sluagh-ghairm battle cries to bolster their spirits and unsettle their English adversaries. They didn’t do it in kilts, however, as these weren’t widely worn until many centuries later. Oh, and there was a bridge at the Battle of Stirling Bridge, even though the creators of ‘Braveheart’ decided not to include it.

berserk

If you go berserk, you go absolutely flipping mental, which I’m currently trying not to do while dealing with a 2,790-page PDF which crashes every two seconds.

‘Berserk’ actually has very old roots – turns out people have been getting furiously angry with PDFs (or the equivalent) for a very long time. It comes from ‘berserker’, the name of a type of Norse warrior who fought with superhuman, savage strength while in a sort of frenzied trance. They dressed in animal skins, usually bear. And that’s where the name comes from – in Old Norse, ber- meant ‘bear’ and serkr- meant ‘shirt’ or ‘skin’. The excellently named Snorri Sturluson, a 13th-century historian, interpreted the meaning as ‘bare-shirt’, speculating that berserkers went into battle in the nuddy (or at least topless). But sadly this has been largely discredited. (Snorri obviously had the same problem as lots of other English speakers who ask others to ‘bare with me’ which has made me angry many, many times.)

The earliest surviving reference to the word ‘berserker’ is in Haraldskvæði, a skaldic poem (one of the two kinds of Old Norse poetry, the other being Eddic poetry) composed by another excellently named individual, Thórbiörn Hornklofi, in the late ninth century. Here’s a little snippet for you:

I'll ask of the berserks, you tasters of blood,
Those intrepid heroes, how are they treated,
Those who wade out into battle?
Wolf-skinned they are called. In battle
They bear bloody shields.
Red with blood are their spears when they come to fight.

No mention of them being topless, sorry Snorri.

When I googled ‘famous berserkers’, one of the ones who came up was Ivar the Boneless. Sadly no one’s completely sure where the name comes from. It’s been suggested that he might have had a condition like osteogenesis imperfecta (also known as brittle bone disease), which makes the fact that he invaded both England and Ireland extra impressive. Another source says it refers to the fact that he couldn’t get it up, which is less so.

Also, he had a brother called Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye who sounds super fun.

This one’s for you, Snorri