The Dialect of the West of England

In Short

A dedicated philological record, this work serves as both a linguistic dictionary and a cultural anthology of the Somersetshire dialect. By blending a comprehensive glossary of regional terms with illustrative poems, personal anecdotes, and scholarly dissertations, it seeks to elevate a rural, "unlettered" language to its rightful status as a legitimate descendant of classical Anglo-Saxon. It remains a vital document for those interested in the evolution of the English language, capturing the cadence, idiomatic wit, and agricultural life of a district that remained stubbornly resistant to the linguistic homogenization of the nineteenth century.

The Story

The book begins as a personal act of devotion, with a poem addressed to the dwellers of the West. The author, having relocated to London, reaches back to his native Somersetshire to reclaim the language he first drew breath in. He introduces his work not as a dry academic exercise, but as a "fruit of longvul labour," intended to preserve the memory of specific local characters—Tommy Gool, Tommy Came, and Fanny Fear—whose lives were lived against the backdrop of the moor and the parish church.

The narrative of the book moves from this personal prologue into a rigorous, yet warm, defense of the dialect. The author confronts the condescension of "polite" society and past literary figures, such as Alexander Pope, who attempted to mimic West Country speech but failed due to a lack of genuine connection to the land. By providing a detailed glossary, the author demonstrates that what outsiders dismiss as "vulgarisms" or "corruptions" are, in fact, disciplined, consistent, and ancient linguistic forms. He argues that the distance from the Metropolis allowed the West of England to preserve a "pure" Anglo-Saxon heritage that had been largely lost elsewhere in the country.

As the book progresses, the focus shifts to the practical life of the region. Through the lens of the glossary, we see the world of the Somersetshire farmer: the tools of the trade, like the "zull" (plough) and the "seed-lip" (sowing vessel); the natural world of the "dirsh" (thrush) and the "bee-but" (hive); and the superstitions and pastimes that define community life, such as the practice of "dawzin" with a hazel rod to find water.

The middle section is given over to stories and poems that bring these words into action. We follow characters like the cheerful Jerry Nutty, who sets out to visit the holy thorn of Glastonbury, and the young churchwarden who finds himself at odds with the "girt vawk" of the parish because he insists on cleaning the neglected, dusty church. These stories are punctuated by the moralizing letters of local correspondents like Teddy Band, who chides the "gennelmen" of the country for the cruelty of hunting.

The work concludes with a series of scholarly dissertations and letters, including contributions from his nephew, who revised the text for later editions. These final sections move from the anecdotal to the analytical, tracing the origins of pronouns like "ic," "ich," and "ise," and drawing direct comparisons to the contractions used in modern "polished" English. The book ends by affirming that the language of the moor and the cottage is not a sign of ignorance, but a living, energetic repository of history, one that deserves to be studied with the same seriousness as any other branch of the English tongue.

How It Unfolds

The call to the home soil The text opens with a heartfelt poetic dedication, establishing the author’s deep emotional tether to his birthplace. He invites his fellow West Countrymen to recognize their own speech and stories within these pages.

The critique of the outsiders The author mounts a firm defense against historical literary figures who mocked the dialect without understanding it. He meticulously deconstructs these past errors to show how regional speech requires local knowledge to be accurately rendered.

The dictionary of the land A vast, alphabetized glossary serves as the book's backbone, defining the words that govern daily existence. Each entry provides not just a definition, but a glimpse into the agricultural and social rhythms of Somerset life.

The poems of the people Through character-driven verse, the dialect is put into the mouths of school children, churchwardens, and travelers. These pieces demonstrate how the language functions in conversation, gossip, and moral debate.

The scholarly validation The final movement turns to philology, linking the provincial contractions to ancient Anglo-Saxon roots. By comparing these "vulgar" forms to accepted English contractions, the author secures the dialect's place in history.

The People

James Jennings, the author, acts as the primary guide. He is a man caught between two worlds—the urban sophistication of London, where he serves the Metropolitan Literary Institution, and the rustic, rooted world of his Somerset childhood. He is an observer who wants to prove that his home dialect is not a "corrupted" version of English, but a primary, authentic source.

Thomas Came and Maester Jimmy represent the idealized, harmonious relationship between the landowner and the local worker. Their dialogue illustrates the dialect in its most natural state, showing how their shared language binds them to the land and to the rhythms of the seasons.

Fanny Fear is a tragic, spectral figure whose story becomes a point of contention and moral reflection for the community. Her plight, and the reaction to it, serves as a bridge between the author’s creative work and the real-world concerns of the villagers who comment on her fate.

Teddy Band appears as the moral conscience of the district. Through his correspondence, he challenges the social hierarchy, questioning the "sport" of the gentry and insisting that a true understanding of the community requires empathy for the vulnerable, whether they be people or animals.

Finally, the nephew, James Knight Jennings, provides the editorial rigor that secures the work's legacy. As a vicar and Cambridge scholar, he bridges the gap between his uncle’s oral, "unlettered" subjects and the academic world, ensuring that the dialect is preserved with both accuracy and scholarly weight.

In Its Own Voice

"Vor thaw I now in Lunnan dwell, I mine ye still--I love ye well; And niver, niver sholl vorget I vust drâw'd breath in Zummerzet;"

The author reflects on his displacement from his home county while writing his opening address to the dwellers of the West.

"The elms look'd up like giants tâll Ther branchy yarms aspread; An green plumes wavin wi' tha wine, Made gâ each lofty head."

He describes the landscape of his father’s cottage, using local dialect to animate the trees that sheltered his childhood home.

What It's Really About

The book is an argument for the legitimacy of regional identity. Beneath the glossary and the poetry lies a profound question about the nature of "proper" language: who gets to decide what is correct, and what is lost when we sacrifice the particular for the universal? The author posits that regional dialects are not mere mistakes made by the uneducated, but are instead sophisticated, rule-bound systems that carry the weight of history. By tracing the dialect back to the Anglo-Saxon period, he argues that the rural folk of Somerset are the true guardians of a national heritage, and that their speech is a vital, living bridge to the origins of the English language itself.

Why Read It Today

Read this if you have a love for the "deep" history of language, or if you are drawn to the rugged, specific beauty of regional speech. It is a dense, rewarding book that rewards a slow, rhythmic reading; the glossary is not just a list of words, but a miniature encyclopedia of a pre-industrial life that has mostly vanished.

You will find it an honest, if occasionally challenging, experience. The author makes no attempt to hide the "difficult" aspects of his study—the heavy use of phonetic spelling, the archaic grammar, and the period-specific attitudes toward class and social hierarchy are all presented plainly, as they were in 1869. If you are easily frustrated by dialect, the sheer length of the glossary might feel like an obstacle, but for the patient reader, the reward is a unique sense of immersion. It feels like stepping into a room where the air is thick with the smell of hay and the sound of a voice that has been ignored for too long. What stays with you is the author's warmth and his quiet, stubborn insistence that the way a person speaks is a fundamental part of who they are. It is a book that encourages you to listen more closely to the world around you, and to appreciate the history that exists in the most common of words.