Pell

Pell (pronounced pel)

(1) An animal skin, fur or hide.

(2) A lined cloak or its lining.

(3) A roll of parchment; a record kept on parchment.

(4) As a Sussex dialectical form, a body of water somewhere between a pond and a lake in size.

(5) An upright post, often padded and covered in hide, used to practice strikes with bladed weapons such as swords or glaives.

(6) As Pell Office, a department of the English Exchequer (abolished in 1834).

Mid 1300s: From the Middle English pel (skin, hide), a roll of parchment, from the Anglo-French pell and the Old French pel (skin, hide (which by the thirteenth century it had evolved into peau which endures in Modern French)), from the Latin pellem & pellis (skin, leather, parchment, hide), from the Proto-Italic pelnis, from the primitive Indo-European pel- (skin, hide (also to cover, wrap; skin, hide; cloth)), the source of the modern pelt and distantly related to fell and film.  It was cognate with the Welsh pell (far), from the primitive Indo-European kwel and in Welsh, the plural was pell, the equative pelled, the comparative pellach and the superlative pellaf.  In the modern age, a frequently used derivation is rheolydd pell (remote control).  Pell is a noun or proper noun, a verb and an adjective; the noun plural is pells.  The present participle is pelling, the past participle pelled.

Pell-mell (confusedly; in an impetuous rush; with indiscriminate violence, energy, or eagerness) dates from the 1570s and was from the French pêle-mêle, from the twelfth century Old French pesle mesle, thought to be a jingling rhyme on the second element, which is from the stem of the verb mesler (to mix, to mingle".  The earliest known form in English was the phonetic borrowing from the French as “pelly melly”.  The primitive Indo-European root pel- (skin, hide) was a significant and productive pre-modern word, reflecting the importance of hides and skins in the economies of all societies, being related to fell (skin or hide of an animal), the Old English filmen (membrane, thin skin, foreskin),  pellagra (a disease characterised by skin lesions and mental confusion), pellicle (a thin skin or surface film), film (a thin layer of some substance; a pellicle; a membranous covering, causing opacity), pelt (skin of a fur-bearing animal), pillion (a pad behind the saddle of a horse for a second rider) & surplice (a thin, liturgical vestment of the Christian Church).

Cardinal George Pell in ecclesiastical regalia.  This was an exhibit introduced by the cardinal counsel to support the defence that the allegations against him were (as described) technically impossible (in the place and within the time alleged) because of the cut of the garments. 

The origin of the surname Pell was metonymic occupational name for a dealer in furs, from the Middle English & Old French pel (skin, hide), a similar use to the Germanic forms Pelle & Pfell, the South German spellings from the Middle High German phellee & phelle (purple silk cloth).  In parallel, in England and Flanders, the surname Pell emerged as a pet form of Peter, a biblical name much admired by twelfth century Christian Crusaders and associated with the claim of St Peter, the founder of the Christian church, the name from the Ancient Greek word petrus (rock).  Because there was much commercial and population exchange between Flanders and England, Pell was also adopted as a surname in the former.  Even more so than in England, Flemish surnames were characterized by many variations in spelling and one reason for this was there were no real spelling rules in Medieval English.  Spellings were influenced by official court languages (Latin & French) and there was little consistency, changes happening between the efforts of one scribe and the next.  Names were recorded as they sounded so even the differences in pronunciation between one official or priest and another could induce differences and it wasn’t uncommon for people to have had their names registered in several different forms throughout their lives, something which makes difficult the work of genealogical researchers in the modern era.  Even within English, the variations were legion but there was a linguistic uniqueness among Flemish settlers in England, who spoke a language closely related to Dutch, meaning the pronunciation passed through another unfamiliar filter and anglicization was common, whole syllables sometimes deleted.  Pell has been spelled Pell, Pelle, Pel, Pels, Pells, Pelles & Pelf.

Cardinal Pell with Pope Benedict XVI and former Australian prime-minister Kevin Rudd.

In England, dating from the mid-fourteenth century, the Exchequer’s Pell Office was a department in which the receipts and payments were entered upon two rolls of parchment, the one called the introitta, which was the record of monies received, and the other the exitus, or the record of monies issued (ie credit & debit).  The office gained its name from the ledger entries being made in ink upon rolls called pells, from the Latin pellis (skin, leather, parchment, hide) which, while not exactly the blockchain of their day, represented a considerable advance in accuracy and reliability than the distributed and haphazard methods of the past and functionally similar institutions were established in Scotland and Ireland.  In the sixteenth century the pells (the parchment rolls) were replaced by books but the office retained its name until its abolition in 1834.  The lists of the name of holders of the office of Clerks of the Pells in the Exchequer read like something of a tale of English political corruption and nepotism.

Cardinal Pell makes a point.

The death at 81 of Australian Cardinal George Pell (1941-2023) was announced by the Holy See on Tuesday 10 January; he died after complications following “routine hip surgery”.  Created a cardinal in 2003, he was appointed the Vatican’s inaugural Prefect of the Secretariat for the Economy (2014-2019 (effectively the treasurer or finance minister)), having earlier served as Archbishop of Melbourne and later Sydney.  Although a player of real significance in the culture wars and later among the factions of the Vatican’s labyrinthine bureaucracy, the cardinal came to international attention when in 2018 he was convicted in the Supreme Court of Victoria on five charges of child sexual abuse, perpetrated against two boys of thirteen in a Cathedral a quarter-century earlier.  Sentenced to prison, the cardinal was the most senior Church figure ever jailed for such offences.  The conviction was upheld in a majority judgement (2-1) of the Victorian court of appeal but was in 2020 quashed in a unanimous (7-0) ruling by the High Court of Australia.  The cardinal served 13 months in prison.

Cardinal Pell accompanying to court defrocked Catholic priest and convicted child sex offender Gerald Ridsdale (b 1934), now serving a 36 year sentence.

As a general principle, actions in law against a person die with them but still afoot is a civil lawsuit, launched by the father of a choirboy who prosecutors alleged Cardinal Pell abused.  The action is proceeding because it was lodged against both the late cardinal and the Catholic Archdiocese of Melbourne, something now possible because the old arrangement, under which the Catholic Church could not be sued because at law it had no more status than the local bridge club, has been reformed.  It’s of great interest because while the High Court quashed Pell’s criminal conviction because the Crown had not proven he was guilty (of that with which he was charged on the in the place and at the time alleged) “beyond reasonable doubt”, in civil proceedings, the standard to establish guilt is the less onerous “on the balance of probabilities”.  It’s thus a matter analogous with the civil trial of OJ Simpson (b 1947) which followed his acquittal on murder charges; in the civil trial, the court found against Simpson and awarded the plaintiffs US$33.5 million for his victims' wrongful deaths.  The plaintiff is seeking as yet unspecified damages for mental injury he alleges he suffered after learning of the allegations against Pell, specifically compensation for "nervous shock" he endured as a result of losing his son and learning about the allegations a year later.  The term “nervous shock” is a creature of law with its own history of precedents and tests and describes a recognised mental disorder, injury or illness caused by the actions or omissions of another party and is not entirely aligned with the term which might be used in medicine or psychiatry.  Because it’s now possible to sue the Catholic Church as an entity, in his statement of claim, the plaintiff argues the church is liable as it breached its duty of care.

Cardinal Pell with former Archbishop of Melbourne Sir Frank Little (1925–2008), found by the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse to have led a culture of secrecy in the Melbourne archdiocese designed to hide complaints against priests and protect the church's reputation from scandal and financial liability.

Given the extraordinary volume of child abuse cases involving Roman Catholic clergy, the case is being watched with interest, not least because of the findings of the earlier Royal Commission into Institutional Child Abuse which ran for several years, interviewed thousands and found Pell had known of child sexual abuse by priests in Australia as early as the 1970s but failed to take action.  Pell rejected the commission’s findings, insisting they were "not supported by evidence".  That interplay of findings and other histories mean the case has assumed greater significance because of the argument the church will be liable for the wrongdoings of its priests and bishops under the doctrine of vicarious liability.  There are defences to that but none seem obviously applicable and it’ll be interesting to see if a (presumably confidential) settlement is agreed or the matter proceeds to trial.

Cardinal Pell and Tony Abbott, in church.

Still, in death the late cardinal has his defenders.  Former Prime Minister Tony Abbott (b 1957; Australian prime-minister 2013-2015), a lay-Catholic who in his youth trained for several years for the priesthood (a background which would later, among his parliamentary colleagues on both sides of the aisle, gain for him the moniker “the mad monk”) eulogized Pell as a “saint for our times” and “an inspiration for the ages”, damning the charges he’d faced as “a modern form of crucifixion”.  Time will tell if some pope might take up Mr Abbott’s hint and begin the process to create another Saint George (all would probably agree just now might be “too soon”) but the flourish “modern form of crucifixion” displayed a flair with words Mr Abbott but seldom displayed during his years in office.