#History – Northwest Nature and History

The Lord of Misrule and his Merry band of Mummers

“Here we stand before your door, As we stood the year before; Give us whiskey, give us gin, Open the door and let us in.”

Christmas Song, by Edwin Waugh

Bring in the green holly, the box, and the yew, the fir, and the laurel, all sparkling with rime; Hang up to the ceiling the mistletoe-bough, and let us be jolly another yule-time!

Blackpool Illuminations

Often dubbed the “greatest free light show on Earth,” Blackpool Illuminations have been dazzling visitors to the Lancashire seaside resort for nearly 150 years. The annual spectacle transforms the town’s promenade into an extravagant display of light, colour, and creativity, drawing millions of tourists each winter.

The Cotton Mill

Hum, whirl, click, click, clatter, Rolling, rambling, moving matter: Whizzing, hissing, hitting, missing, Pushing, pulling, turning, twisting.

Tommy Stroo’s Ghost by John Charles Twist

Th’ moon wur sheignin’ rare, an’ breet,

An’ stars wur twinklin’ o’er mi heyd,

When aw wur walkin’ deawn th’ owd street,

Wi’ Tommy Stroo’s ghost bi mi seyd.

Unnatural Histories; The Crier of Claife

For generations, ferrymen operating the historic crossing betwixt Ferry Nab and Sawrey knew better than to heed these unearthly cries after dark, for they knew that these were no ordinary pleas but rather the desperate howls of a damned soul.

Unnatural Histories; Burnley’s Boggarts

Lancashire’s misty moors and ancient lanes are inhabited by all sorts of weird and eldritch beings; witches, spectral dogs and highwaymen have haunted these parts for centuries. Yet few of these mythical entities evoke as much intrigue and trepidation as the boggart.

Unnatural Histories; The Tragic Tale of Private Patrick McCaffery

In the latest addition to my Unnatural Histories collection I return to a part of Lancashire I grew up in to look deeper into the background of a ghost story we heard many times as children.

It is a tale of murder, trial, execution and haunting, and was made even more chilling for us as our tall red-brick town-house directly faced the black gates of the barracks it occurred in.