In the 16th century it was discovered that not everyone who’d been buried had actually died. Scratch marks found on the inside of coffin lids suggested that gravediggers were not always too careful who they buried – a fact which elicited panic from the public at the horrific prospect of being buried alive. As modern autopsy didn’t start until the 17th century and gravediggers earned extra money from buying and selling graves, it seems that this panic was not without justification. The solution? People would insist that before they were buried a piece of string be tied to their wrists, passed through the coffin and the earth above it and hung over a nearby tree. To the end of the string would be attached a bell. Now if they did wake up, they could give a tug and the gravedigger (sitting next to the graves on the graveyard shift) would know they were still alive and dig ‘em up. Hence the origin of the phrase ‘dead ringer’ and, by association, of the ‘graveyard shift’.
Now if I tell you that I heard that story originally from Tom Waits in this interview
you might be thinking, “what a load of bull. Tom Waits is telling stories again”. Now he is famous for telling stories and he tells some very good ones (if you use Spotify, try this, this and this) but is this one true? And if it is, how did the phrase’s current meaning – someone or something that very closely resembles another, as in ‘he’s a dead ringer for Brad Pitt’, develop from the bell-ringing gravedigger?
All researchers use tools to verify claims and to make new observations. Those tools often depend on the question being asked and the discipline in which it’s asked. So, for example, biologists use incubators to grow microbes, geographers use simulation modelling, and sociologists use focus groups. Those interested in language (whether professional linguists or amateur sleuths of word and phrase origins) have, readily available, the tools needed for examining the stories and debunking the myths. Critical thinking skills plus a good dictionary can normally see off the most entrenched myth, and critical thinking can develop plausible arguments as to why the myth might have developed in the first place.
Lets look then at how we investigate the phrase ‘dead ringer’. The first place I go is to a good historical dictionary. These are normally large, heavy, multi-volume works that contain detailed information about the use of words and phrases over the centuries. The most famous is the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), the second edition of which has twenty volumes and covers the meanings, history and pronunciation of half a million words. It’s always been expensive (the current price is £678.70) and for years I trudged to libraries to consult it. Not any more! It’s digital, online and part of mmu’s electronic resources. If I’m on campus, it’s a click away and from home I can access it through the remote service by using my mmu id and password. So entering ‘dead ringer’ into the search box in the OED takes me immediately to the fifth entry under the noun ‘ringer’:
5. a. orig. U.S. A person or thing that looks very like another; a double. Chiefly with for. Freq. in dead ringer [1. notice how I cite that entry: "ringer, n.1" The Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. 1989. OED Online. Oxford University Press. 4 Apr. 2000 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50207028>]
Just below that I come across:
b. A horse, athlete, etc. fraudulently substituted for another in a competition, esp. a more skilled competitor brought in to provide an unfair advantage or more advantageous odds.
and
d. Brit. slang. A false registration plate attached to a stolen motor vehicle. Now rare.
This is the sense then in which ringer is used in the phrase. A ‘ringer’ is a fraudulent substitute for the real thing. Tom Waits’ story is moving towards the terrain of urban legend.
But why dead? What is ‘dead’ about a horse or athlete being substituted for another? What meaning of dead is being used here? I start to think about compounds with dead in them: dead short, dead right, dead centre, dead on target … and those uses of dead seem to suggest something really (short), completely (right), exactly (on target). Back to the OED and search for ‘dead’. Obviously there are lots of meanings here and most reference the idea of lifelessness, but I scroll down looking for something that can confirm my hunch:
31. a. Absolute, complete, entire, thorough, downright. Also dead-earnest in adjectival use.
b. Quite certain, sure, unerring. (Cf. dead certainty in prec. sense.) dead shot, one whose aim is certain death; so dead on the bird. dead-on: certain, unerring, exactly right (see quot. 1889).
c. Exact.
Now that would fit. The idea of a dead ringer being a fraudulent substitute who was certain to win or lose, plausibly marries the two words used in the phrase. As I scroll back up the entries for ‘dead’ I also come across this meaning.
b. slang. Of a race-horse: not intended to win; fraudulently run in such a way that it cannot win; chiefly in dead one, dead ‘un.
and the earliest known use:
1885 Atchison (Kansas) Daily Globe 2 Oct. 1/6 A few weeks since Corum Young and Ernst Young put up $100 each on a horse race, and Corum Young claims that Ernst Young ‘run in a ringer’ on him and won his money.
Through some persistent scrolling and reading in the OED the myth perpetuated by Tom Waits’ has been debunked. No reference was found in the dictionary to people being buried alive with bits of string attached to their wrists and/or gravediggers waiting to hear the clang of the bell. There is instead evidence to suggest that the phrase owes its origin to some fairly dubious, double-dealing at the racecourse.
But the other question now emerges. Why would Tom Waits perpetuate the myth? And more generally, why do we have some many urban, linguistic, legends? The idea that stories and facts about language are a sub-set of urban legends, has been suggested by David Wilton in his book Word Myths: Debunking linguistic urban legends. According to Wilton, the linguistic subset has a number of commonalities with the phenomenon of urban legends: they arise mysteriously and spread widely; they often contain elements of horror/humour with traditional story structures; though rarely true, each contains some elements that are plausible. These criteria certainly apply to ‘dead ringer’. We’ve managed to establish some approximate historical and cultural context in which it most probably originated – but we can’t pinpoint an exact origin. It’s classic morbid humour and at least when told by Tom Waits, makes for a good story.
We are all tellers of stories. Storytelling seems to be a basic way of expressing ourselves and our world to others. In constantly trying to provide our scattered and often confusing experiences with a sense of coherence we arrange our understandings into stories which emerge in the form of myths, legends, tales, Hollywood blockbuster films, TV programmes, and anecdotes about language. Because we’re drawn to stories, the story of ‘dead ringer’ is appealing – and like all stories there is a truth buried (forgive the pun!) in it – but it’s not the etymological truth.
If you are interested in stories about language and specifically the origins of the words and phrases we often (unthinkingly) use everyday, here are some resources you’ll find useful:
- Crystal, David. The Stories of English. New York: Overlook Press, 2004.
- Wilton, David. Word Myths: Debunking Linguistic Urban Legends. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.
- Quinion, Michael. “World Wide Words.” http://www.worldwidewords.org/.
- “Language Log.” University of Pennsylvania, http://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/.
- David Wilton. “Wordorigins.org”. http://www.wordorigins.org/index.php
- “DC Blog.” David Crystal’s blog, http://david-crystal.blogspot.com/.