Lancashire Dialect Poet 1826 - 1893
Samuel Laycock was born in Yorkshire at a small hill farm in
Marsden on 17th January 1826. His father was a hand loom
weaver. Samuel had little schooling, apart from at the local Sunday
School, because he started work in a woollen mill at the age of nine.
In 1837, when Samuel was eleven the family moved to Stalybridge and he
became a power loom weaver in a cotton mill. By the time of the
Cotton Famine he had risen to become a cloth-looker, but the depression of
the 1860's threw him and thousands of others, out of work.
The cotton famine changed Laycock's life - he published poems inspired
by the crisis and as a result he never worked in the mill again. In
1865 he became the librarian and porter at the Mechanics Institute.
He left this post six years later after which he seemed to drift for some
time. Various unsuccessful enterprises - a bookstall on Oldham
market, a photography business in Mossley, a short-term as Curator at the
Whitworth Institute in Fleetwood - belong to this period. In 1868,
he settled in Blackpool as it was thought the climate would be good for
his health. He worked as a photographer a this time and his poems
were published in book form, but it is probably safe to assume that his
income remained somewhat precarious. He died in Blackpool in
1893.
Laycock was in the first rank of Lancashire dialect poets of the mid
19th century. He began to be published just at a time when a
vigorous oral tradition was making its way into print. He knew the
life and experience of his fellow cotton operatives and was able to
capture the atmosphere of the times in verse. His poems were
written for a working class audience and were printed in broadsheet form,
so that cotton workers could afford to buy them. IN his later life
his poems lost much of their spontaneity - he became a respected figure
called on to contribute commemorative verses at format gatherings.
Dialect writing became a backwater, harking back nostalgically to earlier
times, not commenting on contemporary life, but at his height his poems
present a vivid impression of mid 19th century working class life.
The Cotton Famine was a major event in the lives of many people in
Stalybridge including Samuel Laycock. Contemporaries believed that
the Famine was caused by the American Civil War, which interrupted the
supply of raw cotton. It is now believed that is was the result of
years of over production which had caused a glut on the market.
Whatever the causes the result was massive unemployment which was
particularly severe in the Ashton, Stalybridge and Dukinfield areas.
All three towns were almost totally dependent on cotton. By November
1862, nearly 42% of the population of the Ashton Poor Law Union (which
included Stalybridge) was receiving relief.
Samuel Laycock was one of many cotton workers who were laid off.
Like other unemployed workers he used his skills to make extra cash and
found that there was a market for his poems which were published in
broadsheet form as "Lancashire Lyrics".
The popularity of his poems is evident from the fact that they were
sold to people who were struggling to find the means to live - 14,000
broadsheets were sold. In fact, following the oral tradition of
dialect poetry, they were set to tunes and sun in the street.
Laycock's poems provide a valuable record of the working class experience
of the times. They give expression to an attitude which was probably
prevalent among respectable working people, that men should find an
honourable way of standing up to the times and not be reduced to
complaining about personal sufferings. The poems make clear the
domestic problems and misery caused by hard times.
'Bowtons's Yard' and 'Bonny Bird' are Laycocks' best known and best
loved poems and both were written in Stalybridge. Laycock's poem gives some impression of the people who lived in these
conditions and the community life which grew up in the streets.
Click here to read Bolton's Yard in dialect with a written translation.
BONNY BRID
Bonny Brid was written on the birth of his daughter, Hannah, on
December 8th, 1864. It was written during the Cotton Famine and is a
touching comment on the problems of bringing up a child born during a
depression. Laycock was expecting a boy so the poem is addresses to
a 'lad'. Bonny Brid grew up to marry Sim Scholfield, another
Lancashire poet and many anniversaries in her life were commemorated by
poems written by her father, her husband and their friends. Bonny
Brid died on 13th July, 1939 in Torquay.
Bonny Brid
Th'art welcome, little bonny brid, But shouldn't ha'
come just when tha did; Toimes are bad. We're short o' pobbies for
eawr Joe, But that, of course, tha didn't know, Did ta, Lad?
Aw've often yeard mi feyther tell, 'At when aw coom i'
th; world misel' Trade wur slack; An' neaw it's hard wark pooin' throo -
But aw munno fear thee, iv aw do. Tha'll go back.
Cheer up! these toimes'll awter soon; Aw'm beawn
to beigh another spoon - One for thee; An', as tha's sich a pratty face,
Aw'll let thee have eawr Charley's place - On mi knee.
God bless thee, love, aw'm fain tha'rt come, Just try
an' mak' thisel awhoam; Here's thi nest; Tha'rt thoike this mohter to a
tee, But tha's thi fether's nose, aw see, Well, aw'm blest!
Come, come tha needn't look so shy, Aw am no' blamin'
thee, not I; Settle deawn, An tak' this haupney for thisel, There's lots
o' sugar sticks to sell Deawn i th' teawn.
Aw know when furst aw coom to th' leet, Aw're fond o' owt at tasted sweet; Tha'll be th' same. But come, tha's never towd
thi dad. What he's to co thee yet, mi lad - What's thi name?
Hush! hush! tha mustn't cry this way, But get this sope
o' cinder tay. While it's warm. Mi mother used to give it to
me, When aw wur sich a lad as thee, In her arm.
Hush-a-babby, hush-a-bee, - Oh, what a temper!
dear-a-me. Heaw tha skrikes! Here's a bit o' sugar, sithee; Howd thi
noise, an' then aw'll gie thee Owt tha likes.
We've nobbut getten coarsish fare, But, eawt o' this
tha'll get this share, Never fear. Aw hope tha'll never want a meal, But
allis fill thi bally weel, While tha'rt here.
This feyther's noan been wed so long, An; yet tha sees
he middlin' throng, Wi' yo' o. Besides thi little brother Ted, We've
one upsteers, asleep i' bed, Wi eawr Joe.
