Poem Th' Surat Weyver's Song

Th' Surat Weyver's Song

William Billington was the son of a hand-loom weaver, born at Samlesbury, between Blackburn and Preston. He acquired his learning at Sunday School and after moving to Blackburn when he was about 12 he worked in a factory during the day and studied at the Mechanics Institute in the evening. He later taught grammar while working his way through the occupations of doffer, stripper, grinder, weaver and tape-sizer. He also studied the poets of his day.

He published two books of poems, and wrote a column each week for the Blackburn Standard, which he found hard going. In the notes to ‘A Lancashire Garland’ from where most of these comments are taken he tried to explan why he wrote poetry:

Why do I rhyme? Ask the wind why it blows.
Why do I rhyme? Ask the stars why they shine.
Ask the rain why it falls and the stream why it flows,
Ask the rich why they’re proud and the poor why they pine!

This poem, from 1862 in the depths of the Cotton Famine, which was caused by the American Civil War, speaks of ‘Surat’, an inferior type of cotton from Surat in India. Surat was a substitute for American cotton, but it was a nightmare – well-nigh impossible – to weave as it kept breaking. The poem – almost a song – tells of the frustrations and poverty of the times.

For the full text of Billington's 'Lancashire Songs' click here.

Th’ Surat Weyver’s Song
by William Billington (1827 -1884)

We're warkin lads frae Lankysheer,
An' gradely daycent fooak;
We'n hunted weyvin far an' near,
An' couldn't ged a strook;
We'n sowd booath table, clock, an' cheer,
An' popt booath shoon an' hat,
An' borne wod mortal man could bear,
Affoor we'd weyve Surat!

It's neaw aboon a twelmon gone
Sin't "crisis" coom abeawt,
An' t' poor's tried hard to potter on
Tell t' rich ud potter eawt;
We'n left no stooan unturn'd, nod one,
Sin' t' trade becoom so flat,
Bud neaw they'n browt us too id, mon,
They'n med us weyve Surat!

Aw've yerd fooak talk o' t' treydin mill,
Un pickin oakum too;
Bud transpooartation's nod as ill
As weyvin rotten Su!
It's been too monny for eawr Bill,
Un aw'm as thin as a latt,
Bud iv wey wi' t' Yankees hed eawr will,
We'd hang 'em i' t' Surat!

It's just like rowlin stooans up t' broo,
Or twisting rooaps o' sand;
Yo piece yo'r twist, id comes i' two,
Like cobwebs i' yor hand;
Aw've wark'd an' woven like a foo!
Tell aw'm as weak as a cat,
Yet after o as aw could do,
Aw'm konkurd bi t' Surat!

Eawr Mally's i' t' twist fever yon—
Mi feyther's getten bagg'd;
Strange tacklers winnod teck him on,
Becose his cooat's so ragg'd!
Mi mother ses it's welly done—
Hoo'l petch id wi' her brat,
An' meck id fit for ony mon
Wod roots among t' Surat.

Aw wonst imagined Deeoth's a very
Dark un dismal face;
Bud neaw aw fancy t' cemetery
Is quite a pleasant place!
Bud sin' wey took eawr Bill to bury,
Aw've often wish'd Owd Scrat
Ud fetch o t' bag-o-tricks, an lorry
To hell wi o t' Surat!

Audio: You may need to allow ActiveX to listen.

For help with the words, go to Glossary

Some Explanations:

Sowd - sold

Popt - pawned

Shoon - shoes

Potter on - keep going, keep busy

Potter eawt - uncertain; sense of 'help' or perhaps 'pay out'

Treydin' mill - treadmill

Pickin oakum - unpicking old ship ropes, a menial activity of the workhouse

Too mony - too much

Latt - lath, thin piece of wood

Twist - weaver's warp

Twist fever - sense of sick because of trying to repair the 'twist'

Gettn bagg't - got sacked, lost his job

Tacklers - weaving superviors

Welly - really

Hoo - she

Petch - patch

Brat - weaver's apron

Owd Scrat - possibly 'the devil'

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