Our accents and dialects are very much part of our heritage and help shape our identity whichever part of the country from which we have originated. They also form a unique link with our forebears.

My grandfather, Harry Jones, had a very distinct Bolton accent and used much dialect when he spoke. Bolton is the next town to Bury and has always been noted for its strong dialect and it was here that my grandfather was raised. I remember that he would use phrases such as tha’ knows to say do you know and how at thee? to enquire how are you? .

Accents and dialects can help us identify with the ways that our ancestors not only spoke but also how they expressed themselves in terms of their hopes and fears – it can give clues to their personalities.

My own ancestors from Bury and Bolton were hard working, ordinary working-class people, many of whom worked in the local cotton mills in the 19th century. Much of their accent and dialect was shaped by their experiences in these mills. Phrases such as I am losing my thread are believed to have their origins in this context. Another phrase that I have come across is I have stopped for bobbins, meaning that you cannot complete a task because of a lack of materials, which no doubt dates back to running out of thread in the mills. Common sayings such as back to the grindstone may be seen as a legacy of our industrial past.

Therefore, it is important that writers of the past have recorded these local phrases and dialect use. Lancashire writers from the 19th century include Edwin Waugh from Rochdale, the son of a shoemaker, who penned a collection of Lancashire dialect songs entitled Poem and songs in 1859. These poems, such as I’ve worn my bits o’ shoon away, provide an insight into Lancashire life and record for posterity the phrases and songs of our ancestors:

“I’ve worn my bits o’ shoon away,
Wi’ rovin’ up an’ deawn,
To see yon moorlan’ valleys, an’
Yon little country teawn…”

The writer Samuel Laycock, a dialect poet who grew up in Stalybridge, Cheshire (near to Lancashire), wrote a very moving poem (Welcome, bonny brid!) which reveals the feelings of a father to a new arrival during the Cotton Famine of the 1860s during which many of the cotton mills temporarily shut down due to the impact of the American Civil War disrupting the supplies of cotton to the Lancashire mills:

“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…”

These lines reveal the strain that an extra mouth to feed placed on families during this bleak time when family incomes fell dramatically due to temporary unemployment and at a time when the relief available was minimal.

The word pobbies refers to a dish of bread, butter and milk that was often given as a meal to young children in poor working class households where resources were scarce.

Nonetheless, the poem ends with the firm resolution that but tho’ we’ve childer two or three, we’ll mak a bit o’ reawm for thee, which typifies the strong resolve and stoicism of 19th century Lancashire folk to their difficult circumstances, with despair being overridden by their strong love for their children.

However, although Cotton Famine poems tell of times of struggle and hardship, other recorded bits of dialect have shown testament to the strong sense of humour of Lancashire folk which more than likely stood them in good stead, especially in times of adversity. I was most amused when I came across a tale of a Lancashire man who – although seemingly on his death bed – was stirred by the appetising smell of his wife cooking a piece of ham. Apparently when the man requested some, his wife retorted how’d thi’ tongue, that’s fore thi funeral. Needless to say he received none!

Tales such as these serve to bring our ancestors to life and show how they coped pragmatically with whatever life threw at them.