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| The Lancashire Witch From ‘Lancashire Miscellany’, edited by James Benett. Published by Hirst, Kidd & Rennie Ltd., Oldham, 1960.
I have no information about John Scholes, but he seems to have been one of the earlier Lancashire dialect poets, and the language of this poem supports that. It describes the thoughts of an attractive (be-witching) young lady, apparently called Kate, who is supremely disinterested in the boys – until ‘Ned’ comes along dressed in a soldier’s uniform. Although too early for Scholes’ personal experience, the sentiments of the poem relate more to the period from about 1780 to 1806 when the army was recruiting in the Lancashire cotton districts for the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. It sounds as though it were set to be a song.
‘Cousin Dick’ is obviously a suitor – but is he a cousin? In transcribing marriage data from the Civil Registration Index for FreeBMD I have been surprised at how often people with the same surname marry each other, and I know of several examples of Dunkerley first-cousins marrying in the eighteenth century. It was probably perfectly acceptable to marry a cousin at the time of the poem.
The idea of a pretty girl being a ‘witch’ recurs in ‘The Pride of the Lancashire Witches’, and even Tam O’Shanter is ‘bewitched’ by ‘Cutty Sark’.
Words that might call difficulty (or you can consult the Glossary):
M’yen = mean
Dule = devil
Cap’t = astonished
Bargain like shoddy = do a deal – shoddy was poor-quality cotton of low value
Glass = mirror
Doff = undress – literally take off
Shute = suit
Fettle = fix up, renovate
Mind = take care
Frimble – the sense of the word is ‘fiddle’, or ‘loiter’
Yate = gate
Sper = asks for, enquires The Lancashire Witch
by John Scholes (1808 - 1863)
An owd maid aw shall be, for aw’m eighteen to-morn,
An’ aw m’yen to keep single an’ free;
But the dule’s i’ the lads, for a plague they were born,
An’ thi never con let one a-be, a-be,
They never con let one a-be.
Folk seyn aw’m to’ pratty to dee an owd maid,
An’ ‘at luv’ sits an’ laughs i’ my ee;
By-leddy! aw’m cap’t ‘at folk wantin’ to wed;
Thi’ mey o tarry single for me, for me,
Thi’ mey o tarry single for me.
There’s Robin a’ Mill, - he’s so fond of his brass, -
Thinks to bargain like shoddy for me;
He may see a foo’s face if he looks in his glass,
An aw’d thank him to let me a-be, a-be,
Aw’d thank him to let me a-be.
Coom a chap t’other day o i’ hallidi’ trim,
An’ he swoor he’d goo dreawn him for me;
“Hie thi whoam furst an’ doff thi,” aw sed, “bonny Jim!
Or thae’ll spuyl a good shute, does-ta see, does-ta see,
Thae’ll spuyl a good shute, does-ta see.”
Cousin Dick says aw’ve heawses, an’ land, an’ some gowd,
An’ he’s plann’d it so weel, dun yo’ see!
When we’re wed he’ll ha’ th’ heawses new-fettled an’ sowd,
But aw think he may let um a-be, a-be,
Sly Dicky may let um a’be.
Ned’s just volunteer’d into th’ “roifle recruits,”
An’ a dashin’ young sodjur is he;
If his gun’s like his een, it’ll kill where it shoots,
But aw’ll mind as they dunnot shoot me, shoot me,
Aw’ll mind as they dunnot shoot me.
He sidles i’ th’ lone, an’ he frimbles at th’ yate,
An’ he comes as he coom no’ for me;
He spers for eawr John, bo’ says nought abeawt Kate,
An’ just gi’es a glent wi’ his ee, his ee,
An’ just gi’es a glent wi’ his ee.
He’s tall an’ he’s straight, an’ his curls are like gowd,
An’ there’s summat so sweet in his ee,
‘At aw think i’ my heart, if he’d nobbut be bowd,
He needna’ quite let me a-be, a-be,
He needna’ quite let me a-be.
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