Location in the North East
Location in the U.K.
TeesSpeak:An Urban Dialect
words: alley to bleb
words : bogie to butterloggy
words:-cack-handed to clammin
words:-Clarry to dut
words:-eariewig to get
words:-Geordie to knackin'
words: lace- -mozz
words: mell- -mozz
words:nab to parmo
words: parkin to rully
words:sackless to Stee-as
words: steelie to tungie
words:village to youse
Gravel Voiced Gadgies
Nowt by Gob
East Cleveland Dialect
East Cleveland Dialect 2
Northern Dialect Societies
From both ends of the Tees
Local History Sources
On Not Being a Geordie
Then and Now
Familiar Places with Strange Sounding Names
BBC VOICES PROJECT Listen to Teessiders
On Being Canny
Middlesbrough's Language & Identity
The Iron Miners
Not Proper Words ???
Links for Lower Tees Dialect Group
From the middle of the nineteenth century, a Teesside speech has evolved which obviously has close links with the North Yorkshire dialects to its south and Durham dialects to its north but has a distinctiveness from both. There is little doubt that the rapid industrialisation and urbanisation of the area from 1850 onwards has radically altered the dialect. Before this the dialect seems to have been more akin to the Cleveland Dialect we can still hear to our south and east.
Until the 1960s Ormesby was a village on the south east boundary of Middlesbrough. It is now a Middlesbrough suburb. The original village pub was the Red Lion which was renamed the Fountainsome time in the 1960s I think. Listen in the bar of the Fountain today and the predominant speech is strongly Teesside. A mere four or five generations ago it would have sounded quite different. This a story told about an incident circa 1880 as written down by Maurice Wilson in a booklet ‘Rambling on about Eston and Normanby’ in which he recalls the villages on the southern edge of Teesside as they were in the first quarter of the 20c. The speaker is a man remembering an incident in the Ormesby area c. 1870.
Poaching at Berwick Hills
T'owd Red Lion were a little thatched pub. We used to sit theer suppin' till nigh on midnight, and, when it were all quiet, we'd away and look at oor sniggles. There was me, Ted Sample and Taffy Richardson. We'd a canny few set aboot Barrick 'Ills. Well we'd gotten a few rabbits and a hodd 'are or two ,t'moon were blotted oot an' we were sneakin' along t'edge bottom. Owd Ted were in front an' 'e gans through t'edge at back of stack. Suddenly Ted 'ollered oot like a stuck pig an' Aa see'd 'im rollin' on't ground wrastling wi' some yan.
Aa grabbed at summat and lugged away. T'moon cam fra back o't' clouds an' Aa ketched sight of owd Ted. Wiv a shriek an' a leap 'e cleared t'edge like a grey 'und an' then afore Aa could move Aa were 'ugged like 'ell by a 'airy hanimal, Aa kicked oot an' got mysen clear, an' shot efther Ted. Taffy 'ad slithered back underneath 't'edge and we baith ran like 'ell, but Sample..Sample nowt could 'ave copped 'im. We fund 'im rattlin' an shakin' ootside t'Red Lion, an' we nipped in. Shakin' an' sweatin' we dooned some whiskey an' then we split up.
Seems as theer was yan o' them Roosians what gans aroond wi' a dancin' bear, an e'd bin kippin' oot
at back o't'stack, an' t'big 'airy bear 'ad grabbed owd Ted an' nigh on squeezed t'life oot of 'im. Bah gum! It were a queer do. Aa reckon Aa copped it in t'belly ..way it grunted. We nivvor went back for oor rabbits!
Urbanisation Changes the Dialect
For a brief, but glorious time, an Evening Gazette Reporter wrote a weekly humorous column in the paper under the pen-name Teesside Tommy. Teesside's first, and, it would seem so far, only dialect writer. Teesside Tommy was cagey about his true identity but gave some clue as to the area in which he grew up in this piece. Namely the Berwick Hills/Park End area of Middlesbrough the very territory where once, Rob,Ted Sample and Taffy Richardson poached rabbits and wrestled with dancing bears. Note the difference in the modern dialect from this area.
Granddad of the Year?
Ayazz! That knacks that ! What it is, right,is Aa’ve gorra massive keggy an’ me poor cracked ribs are sore as! Aa can’t laff no way. An’ looka, don’t youse lot laff neither jus coz Aa look like Our Lass ‘as brayed us with the poker. Aa mean, looka, Aa’m injured big style. Aa’ll probably never werk agen. An’ all coz Aa spent a bit of quality time with me grand kids! An’ before yer say owt, naw, Aa never done it when Aa was kaiolied, yer cheeky nowt! It was last Satder
Me daughter sez . Owee look after the bairns Dad while Aa take our Mam shoppin down the Liddl. So Aa sez o.k like..better than goin shoppin eh?
And ere’ Aa am lookin after them again..Well you can’t go anywhere sez Our lass. Tekkin a right lend of me thee are. Ayazz yer doyle! Aa’ll ploat you Our Kyle if Aa get me ands on yer..well me one good and eh. ‘E keeps gettin a sly bat in every time ‘e goes past. Ow! Once more an’ Aa’ll shot that flamin’ Play Station in the wheelie bin! That’ll learn yer! That’s the only thing that werks these days,eh? Sayin’ yer’ll take the scart lead out. Far less tew than brayin’ em, eh? Yer’ll probably still get done by the soash for it though, eh?
Aa mean, kids these days eh? All vidyos an’ DDT’s an’ the interweb an’ that, an’ ther still bored. So last Satder when Aa got landed with’em, Aa took ‘em out ter play some real games, y’know, like kerby, kickycanspyo, alleys, tip-tap & beck-jumpin
So Aa showed them tip tap fest ..yer know when yer put a stick over a brick or sommat then it with another stick so it jumps in the air like and then yer’ve got ter smack it before it its the ground. Ther couldn’t get it no how. Sackless ther was. Fair enough Aa couldn’t it meself but the owld eyes aren’t as good as ther were . Aa mean when Aa was their age, Aa useter smack it fer miles!
But then it appened. Only fell off a Tarzy, didna. eh? Eh? What a doyle.! Looka ,Aa know Aa should know better at my age , but well, we was down by the beck and Aa saw it ,an’ well, Aa was the Berwick Hills an’ Park End Tarzy King 1956 me, so Aa was strite over. Aa made our Kyle go fuggy an’ Our Charlie ‘ad a little go an’ then Aa showed ‘em, shot meself onto it big style like, givin’ it Geronimo an’that but some nowt musta sawed the branch through or sommat coz it just went like. Brickin it Aa was, me. Ten foot Aa musta flew , arms an’ legs flappin’ like a cartoon, smacked inter an owld Asda trolley. Dother elp me? Dother nowt.” Yer’ve been framed “ther was saying. Aa’m only pullin meself outa the beck when our Charlie gets the ang of tip tap and really gives it some welly. The stick wud of really flew like if sommat adn’t been in the way like my ead. The stick only smacks me strite in the gob and Aa’m back in the beck again. Mind you this time Aa missed the Asda barra. Only landed on a pile of ouseys some fly tippin gadge had hoyed there ,eh? Dother care? Dother nowt! There thought it funny as. Aa’m limping ome, still spitting teeth an’ pickin bits o’ wall brick outa me bum and there sayin, “That was mint granddad. We’re not bored now Grandad. That’s the best Satder we’ve ever ad. Can we do it again next Satder,” ther sez. “ Nick off.” Aa sez.
Aa mean. Looka us! A martyr me, Aa should get GrandDad o’ the year, me , instead Aa get me eye keggied , crack me ribs, loss me front teeth .Aa ave to sit on a rubber ring thingy , an west of all Aa’ve knacked me drinkin arm!
Amazed to find my great grandfather Edward Lancaster Sample featured in this story. ' His family were Saddlers and Grocers in Ormesby Village, Ted Sample's family arrived in Ormesby via his father from Great Smeaton N. Yorks where there is still a traditional saddle-making business bearing the Sample name on the main street, to this day.
At one stage they also lived in the original Linthorpe Village around 1835-1841. By a quirky, almost 'spooky' coincidence that is where I now live, almost upon the exact same location! (By the way the original Linthorpe village was along Burlam Rd not the south end of Linthorpe Rd which is known as 'The Village' today. This area was built in the late 19c and was known as 'New Linthorpe')
Back in the 1950's, as a young lad, my mother and I, used to stroll from our house in Berwick Hills to Ormesby village, up the 'quiet' hedgerow'd lane that is now Ormesby Rd, to see our relatives. The dialect they spoke was quite fascinating, and hardly recognisable, to my young ears, especially as they lived less than 2-miles away!
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