Like Billio

Like Billy-O: It's not a phrase you hear very often these days, unless you watch Downton, where Rose says, "Oh but I do. I want to rush in like Billyo!" - floozie!

 It is a good phrase, though. It conjures up images of hellfire and damnation; something so fast and extreme that it can't possibly be good for you. It's perfect for Downton, as you can only imagine it being said with a plummy accent by someone in a tuxedo or flapper dress, "Oh, dahrling, I can't possibly go out in that: it's raining like billyo and my fascinator will look like a drowned ostrich."

It's a phrase we knew as children. I suspect it was on the National Curriculum, which means it will be back in use before too long, unless some of the non-words from the phonics tests start to catch on. (Quemp: small green mythical frog-like creature that lives in dark, damp holes. Some say the quemp is the ruler of all bog beings)

The Reverend Joseph Billio is a man I feel quite attached to. He may, or may not be the source of this phrase but for the last ten years our youth orchestra has been rehearsing in the Church that he built. This particular church is a beautiful Georgian building and we love rehearsing in it. There is a blue plaque on the front, which seems to be hiding, as if Billio would be a little shy of his fame. It was several years before I noticed it, even though the story of Billio had been told to me by our percussion director, who is shortly to become a Time Lord (or doctor of history) and I had seen his portrait in the church.

Blue Plaque

Seems to be hiding

Reverend Joseph Billio was born to the vicar of Wickham Bishops, Robert Billio in 1668.  Either Robert or Joseph was thrown out of the Parish for non-conformist sympathies (I can't work out who) and Joseph hired some land from William Coe in 1696 to build a meeting hall for 400 people. He then proceeded to give long and passionate sermons about how everyone was going to burn in hell, which were very popular and drew large crowds. 

These sermons are one of the possible derivations of the phrase, which could go on like Billio, spitting hellfire and damnation. Other people disagree, as the word didn't appear in print wasn't until 1882, where the Fort Wayne Gazette printed: "He lay on his side for about two hours, roaring like Billy-Hoo with the pain, as weak as a mouse"

That time-frame seems about right to me. 180 years to get across to America from Maldon, after all I know people from Maldon who took 40 years of their life to go as far as London. Maldonites are fitted with elastic at birth that brings them pinging back and most have very short elastic.

Yesterday, I took some infant children to visit the church. I used my key to let them in the back door. 

"Do you live here?" they asked, "Why do you have a key then?" 

They had been very interested in the graves and death in general, speculating about Mummies, vampires and the size of the people in the tombs. I showed them the portrait of Billio and told them the story about the phrase they had never heard of but all they wanted to know was whether he was dead. 

"What do you think?" I asked, "He was born in 1669, that would make him 347 years old."

"He's dead then," they all agreed.

"Did you know him?" another child asked.

"Errr, no!"

"Was he your Dad then?" he persisted.

"Well, let's see," I said standing next to the portrait, "do we look alike?"

Heads tilted to one side, giving the question considerable thought.

"Could be," the boy finally pronounced, "You have the same blond hair and big nose."

I suppose I asked for that.

The Rev Joseph Billio

This week's orchestra rehearsal  has seen me conducting like Billio, with my blond hair and big nose, as we only have three weeks before our concert. (Details here: //www.eventbrite.com/e/maldon-youth-orchestra-annual-summer-concert-tickets-17367696247). Please come and see us and have a look at the shy blue plaque while you are there.

Conducting like Billio.  Hands moving so fast they are a blur.