Simon Entwistle hosts a monthly one-hour show, GHOSTLY TALES OF THE UNEXPLAINED, where he tells abou
Simon Entwistle hosts a monthly one-hour show, GHOSTLY TALES OF THE UNEXPLAINED, where he tells about ghostly tales and legends around the UK. Simon is the owner and lead Tour Guide with Top Hat Tours, which explores several famous locations in London and elsewhere. The Ribble Valley has mystical legends and Simon Entwistle, dressed in his authentic Victorian costume, will be delighted to recount
some of his favourites as he accompanies you on his guided walks exploring the haunted ginnels, cobbled streets and burial grounds in Clitheroe, Whalley, Blackburn, Accrington, Colne, Skipton, York and Kendal. Simon conducts the tour in his own graphical style, complete with resident ghosts and sound effects whilst recounting the history of these fascinating towns. He also carries out guided heritage coach tours for groups for all the above towns and cities. In addition to this, he also provides tours in the Pendle Witch country and tours of the Ribble Valley. These originate from Oswaldtwistle Mills, Botany Bay, Chorley and Boundary Mills, Colne.
Well, its Halloween, and for the first time in 30 years I will not be on the streets conducting a ghostly walk. This is due to a knee replacement operation, so tonight at 7.30 on Facebook live I thought I would convey my five most favourite ghost stories fromthe comfort of my home. Hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy telling them.
I have a slot this afternoon on BBC regional radio for a short story,I personally can not think of a finer organisation than the BBC when it comes to storey telling. When you look at the Archers ,And book at bed time ,Absolutely ideal for creating a picture in your imagination. You can listen on Cumbria lancashire Manchester Merseyside .
When you look at planet Earth, there really is a sense of pure magic about the planet. Earth is basically a little marble spinning in space with its own fabulous life support system, Its home to billions of life forms and a variety of plants. Yet, since the dinosaurs left and man came on the scene it seems man is by far the most dangerous life form to exist on the planet. Very sadly mans treatment towards other human beings has over the centuries been barbaric and exceptionally cruel. Every century there has been wars and invasions of various countries and each country has invented weapons, From clubs’ spears arrows gas and the most horrific of them all nuclear biological chemical weapons. Since 1945 the world has lived with the threat of a nuclear or biological attack, we all hope and pray it will never happen for obvious reasons. However, the story you are going to read is totally fictitious and has come entirely from my imagination, sadly it is a story that could happen. It was a Saturday morning like any other Saturday, I opened my eyes to bright May sunshine entering my bedroom through a c***k in the curtains. I heard the morning paper arrive through the letter box downstairs ,this was the signal to get up rush downstairs put the kettle on ,grab the toaster ,get the butter and marmalade .I opened the conservatory door and with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other ,made my way to the garden table outside ,to enjoy the spring sunshine and read the news paper ,This was a typical Saturday morning ritual ,I reached for my reading glasses and opened the daily mail ,There on the front page in large letters was the heading ,Aircraft from HMS prince of Wales on full alert after escorting Russian bombers out of united kingdom airspace .I took very little interest in the column and went straight for the crossword . I was joined by my wife and Granddaughter, who sat next to me to enjoy the May sunshine, The conversation was about how nice the garden looked, with the delphiniums and lupins looking at their best, along with the neat lines on the mowed lawn. My wife asked me if I could go down to the chemist later to pick up her prescription, with a smile no problem I said, I got dressed, and then before leaving the house I said to my wife and granddaughter see you later, I had no idea at that time that I would never see them again. The walk from my home to Clitheroe town centre was roughly a ten-minute walk and a very pleasant walk in bright warm sunshine .I arrived at boots the chemists and joined a short que to get served , In the que I heard a elderly gentleman chatting to his wife in quite an alarming shocked voice , I heard him say she has gone with all hands , Whose gone said the women next to him , The prince of Wales gone with all hands ,he said again, The pride of the Royal Navy ,We are in real trouble he said in an agitated manner his voice lowered as he said we will be at war now. Part of me didn’t want to hear this, As I received the prescription from the pharmacist. I left the chemist and headed down the high street, And straight towards the White lion inn situated in the town centre, I just felt a compulsion to have a cold beer, On entering the pub I glanced to the left and looked up at the large sports screen on the wall. There you could clearly see the prime minister with a shocked and saddened face reporting that HMS prince of Wales after a very gallant act had been sunk in the North Sea with all hands, The picture then went straight to Washington There the president again with deep sadness on his face declared that NATO was at war with Russia and the Chinese. I felt this must be a dream, Claire the landlady served me with a pint of cold lager, She didn’t ask me for payment as her mind was obviously on different things. I heard someone shout look, everyone in the pub turned to look at the pubs bay windows. There was the unmistakable view of pendle hill in the distance. There was a large flash behind the hill that seemed to turn the sky a bright silver. Then materializing behind the hill the unmistakable shape of the mushroom cloud, No one was aware but the Town of Burnley had just been vapourised by a nuclear weapon. Someone shouted in a hysterical manner, we are next , There was a stampede for the door in the rush I was pushed to the floor as people ran over me . I can only explain what happened next as the sound of a Fluorescent light bulb exploding almost like a pop but with extreme heat ,I must have blacked out for a few minutes . I opened my eyes I was lying flat on my back, but was looking up at the sky ,I turned over and felt my left leg was stuck under bricks and pub furniture .i slowly took the debris of my leg and managed to stand up ,the scene that greeted me was straight from Hiroshima incredible scene the roofs and buildings around me had been hit by a nuclear wind and been practically levelled . It suddenly became clear that I had survived as I had been lying flat on the pub floor and been trampled, The only building still standing in the town centre was the library, its aerodynamic shape had saved it from destruction. My face felt very sore but also very hot, I glanced at my hands that also gave me pain, I noticed strips of skin had been badly burnt and came of in tiny ribbons. My thoughts immediately switched to my wife and family, Because the town had been devastated and the roads under debris it was hard to get a bearing to get to my home on Littlemoor road ,I used the library building and pendle hill as a bearing , I got to what I was sure had once been littlemoor road. I can not explain to you how I took in the fact on looking at the number plate that once belonged to my Nissan juke that I had actually got home except there was no home left ,I pulled at bricks and shattered furniture but could not find any evidence of my family ,The only item in the devastated remains of my home I could recognise was a Jethro tull album still in its cd case . I started to shake with a mixture of deep emotional pain but also shock, what had happened in the last couple of hours was incredibly hard for my brain to take in. A voice in the back of my head said you need alcohol, I looked at what had once been a busy area now a flattened landscape, In the distance I noticed the 800 year old Norman keep had somehow survived, But beneath it so had the emporium building. It took me roughly an hour to get to the building as the roads had all gone . The doors and windows had all been blown out But somehow the floors had all survived, Near the entrance I came across some badly charred bodies all grotesquely lying there . I sifted through the debris on the ground floor and to my delight came across what was left of the main bar, there on the floor was a row of bottles all optics some had miraculously survived the nuclear wind . I reached out for a bottle of whiskey the black label still visible. I greedily drank the burning liquid, After a few seconds the alcohol entered my blood stream, And for the first time since the nuclear attack I calmed down I noticed a mirror on the floor and gazed in to it although there was a crack across I could make out my face , And took in the fact that the skin on my face was very raw and had a red glow ,my fingers hurt badly also ,I had escaped the initial nuclear blast but not the radiation fallout . It was there and then that I took in the fact that I was definitely going to die. I took a huge swig of whiskey, I thought if I am going to die ,I don’t want to pass away here ,I had to get back to my childhood area of South Cumbria some 35 miles away . How could I get back there was no transport also all the roads will have gone and be impassable. I looked at my predicament and noticed a change outside it was getting dark ,What a horrific day , I made my way to the entrance of the building littered with the dead , As well as the need for alcohol ,I had a desire for a smoke ,I had not touched a cigarette for 38 years ,this day was definitely a day to start smoking again. I searched the pockets of the dead and to my delight came across a packet of lambert and butler and thank God a lighter, I placed the fag in between my lips lit it and filled my lungs with ni****ne. I found the remains of a large settee and also some cushions, I made a bed for myself and the effects of the whiskey took me to a deep alcohol fuelled sleep .On waking sometime later I felt wetness on my face and then took in the fact it was rain coming through the shattered roof .I stood up and felt immediate pain in my face and hands , Although I did not feel hungry I searched for food and managed to get to the second floor of the building as the staircase was still there ,I noticed a refrigerator on its side there was uncooked meat ,That I had no means of cooking , I then noticed tinned food ideal one being a tin of corned beef ,I consumed half the tin ,But sadly within minutes I had regurgitated my meal , My stomach just didn’t want to digest . Something caught my attention on the floor was a magazine, the Lancashire and lake district on the front page was a man driving a second world war half track a German vehicle. I opened the magazine and found the story relating to the front page .The man on the cover came from a village called chipping some eight miles from Clitheroe ,He was a collector of military vehicles focusing on ww2 vehicles ,He mentioned they were all stored in concrete casements on his farm some underground. I had a lightbulb moment, I said to myself these are probably the only vehicles still in working order in Lancashire ,due to being stored in such a way. I had to get to chipping my plan to take one of these vehicles to south Cumbria. My only problem was getting to the village of chipping, I was fully aware that within a few days the radiation sickness would claim me . I had to go now , I grabbed a large bottle of vodka to alleviate the pain I was suffering from. I made my way to what had been edisford road, greeted by burnt out buildings and charred human bodies littered everywhere. In the distance I could see the shape of Edisford bridge ,it had survived the blast ,I made my way down to the river to wash my burning face and hands ,I knelt at the waters edge and drank from the waters , Something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye , It was the body of a little girl probably no older than my own granddaughter she floated past me her eyes gazing up at the sky, My mind went back 24 hours saying goodbye to my loved ones. I felt a sense of real urgency I had to get to south lakes. I started to walk in the direction of Bashall barn or what was left of it. I worked out if I went as the crow flies across the fields this would half my journey on foot . As I made my way I came across many dead sheep and cattle, And was really struck by the silence, Absolutely no bird sound .After a few hours and in pain ,I could see what was left of st Bartholomew’s church in chipping ,The city of Preston must have been targeted destroying everything in the area . Including this beautiful village ,I made my way again across farmland and to my joy in the distance I could just make out the aerodynamic shapes of what looked like wartime concrete casements . I made my way to the first one, the doors were open but sadly everything inside had been damaged by fire including petrol containers that had ignited, I rushed to the next casement the doors closed and locked. Also the next casement locked, There was no way I could break those locks, a feeling of desperation filled me, I slowly walked back to the first casement and entered , I noticed on the back of the door what looked very like a set of keys .A sense of joy filled me as I rushed to the casements and tried each key .Wow the third key fitted and opened the huge brass lock ,I pulled at the heavy door and entered there I was greeted by the shape of a Sherman tank next to it a German tiger tank both in immaculate condition. However I was fully aware that I could never drive them or indeed fuel them . I made my way to the next casement, And yes the same key fitted I pulled at the doors and there in front of me was the same German halftrack I had seen on the front page of the magazine. A voice in my head said this is your passage home , To my absolute joy the keys were in the ignition ,I also noted that the half track tank was full of fuel but also there were four jerry tins full of fuel . I sat in the drivers seat and turned the ignition, to my delight the engine started first time. I selected first second and third gear and found myself driving across farmland with ease, I could not have picked a better vehicle she drove like a dream. My next problem was to navigate I had to get a direction, in the distance I could make out Clitheroes Norman keep ,this gave me a rough idea of my position I passed what was left of Clitheroe and headed straight towards the village of sawley and again to my delight the river ribble bridge was still intact . Over the bridge and towards what I hoped would be a clear road to rathmall . Much to my delight I only came across cars that had been blown of the road in to ditches leaving the road clear. I felt my luck was in as I noticed in the distance the unmistakable views of Ingleborough and penny Ghent. I joined the A65 towards the town of kirby Lonsdale ,this road was littered with trucks , I had to divert in to fields to get past burnt out articulated lorries there drivers dead at the wheel, some sections of the road were clear and I got some speed up , I glanced at my watch it was approaching 9.35 pm ,I also noticed the half track needed some more fuel ,I stopped out side the shattered building that had once been whoop hall on the outskirts of kirby Lonsdale . I walked in to the remains of this once great hotel, the roof blown of the walls flattened, I clambered over the rubble and to my delight found myself in what would have been the main bar, there were many bodies littered there I searched the pockets for ci******es. But to my delight there was a cigarette machine amongst the debris, I smashed the glass front of the machine and greedily helped myself, I glanced to my left and noticed a door with debris surrounding the base, I pulled the bricks and furniture away., The door opened to reveal a set of stairs obviously a cellar I made my way down the cellar stairs there was no light ,but I could make out cardboard boxes I opened one to find it full of rum ,the next one full of whiskey ,I immediately took the boxes upstairs and had a good drink and a fabulous smoke .It was getting dark ,But I realised time was not on my side ,I felt terrible and took in the sad truth that radiation sickness was taking its effect along with serious alcohol abuse , I filled the half tracks petrol tanks , And turned the headlamps on , My first thoughts was How did the german army have such good equipment this vehicle had to be 80 years old but she handled better than some of todays vehicles . I advanced in to kirby Lonsdale and wound my way past burnt out vehicles on the devils bridge and what was left of booths supermarket, Much to my delight the road was quite navigable, I only had to leave it twice to enter fields to by pass rubble and headed north towards the village of Crooklands I was nearly at my destination I could smell the air of south Lakeland . I glanced at my watch it was nearly 4.00am and a twinkle of light in the distance showed me the unmistakable shape of heversham head .I was practically home the place that if I had to die would be my final resting place . I drove past the little hamlet of greenside my childhood home no roof but two walls still standing, thoughts of my parents came to me happy Christmas mornings and also birthdays flashed through my brain. Now Heversham head is basically a huge limestone outcrop with a forest on top .A road ran through the middle of the forest ,I glanced down at the petrol gage on the half track it showed the petrol tank was nearly empty ,but that dident matter I was in the place I had to be.One half of the forest had been flattened but ,by some miracle some trees remained standing, I climbed out of the half track ,And almost felt like kissing the bonnet she had brought me home . I took the two boxes full of booze and stuffed my pockets with cigarette packets. I left the road and entered the forest near the remains of a farm house called mabbin hall. The place I really wanted to get to was a very old yew tree, that I had played in and around as a child . After a few mins I found that beautiful yew tree, In remarkable condition it had survived the nuclear wind, unlike the trees surrounding it that lay Brocken and smashed on the forest floor . Although I did feel very ill from radiation sickness and was fully aware that I was dying ,I felt absolutely elated ,I had no fear of death ,The fact that I had a choice to choose my resting place was a huge relief unlike the billions of people worldwide .I sat down using the yew tree trunk as a backrest , I opened a bottle of J***y walker and took two huge gulps I opened a packet of smokes and fumbled with the lighter . The view from the yew tree was as I expected I took in the kent estuary, And could see the railway viaduct at Arnside still proudly standing its Victorian engineers would be proud also the fabulous shape of whitbarrow scar and the Furness peninsula. I took my jacket of to use as a pillow and noticed something I had completely forgotten it was my mobile phone . I tried phoning friends and family, but knew there was no one out there, But I did have some music on the device in the form of albums , I clicked Emerson lake and palmer and the album tarkus . The opening track had a calming effect , I lit another fag ,thoughts of being caned at school for smoking and being lectured about the dangers of smoking came back to me . It’s a bit late now I thought, Two more gulps of whiskey and a glance at my watch it was 2,15 pm .It was so hard to take in that only three days ago I had been having breakfast with my wife and granddaughter .Yet here I was slowly dyeing in such a beautiful location ,And for all I knew I may be the only person alive in the uk . I looked towards the village of heversham the church tower of saint peter still standing yet surrounded by flattened buildings, And a short distance away my old primary school ,or should I say whats left of it . I felt a need to urinate and with some difficulty got to my feet the effects of the whiskey and the radiation were having a huge affect on me . As I emptied my bladder I was somewhat taken back to notice I was passing a lot of blood in the urine, I thought my organs are closing down , I slowly slid down the yew tree trunk to my previous position. Suddenly from the corner of my eye I noticed a figure a human figure ,It was a young man ,I would say late teens blond hair and a very sympathetic smile on his face ,He was wearing a military uniform ,but from the early part of the last century .He put his hand out to shake mine ,Good afternoon he said as he sat down beside me ,It’s a charming view isn’t it he said ,My favourite place in the world I replied as I gasped for breath , Mine to said the young soldier .I offered him a drink from the bottle by my side ,no thank you can’t do that he replied ,I also offered him a cigarette can’t do that ither he said ,but with a smile on his face . My names Brian he said in a typical south lakes accent I was born just down there in heversham,I went to the local primary school , I replied so did I, Yes I left in 1912 said the young soldier got called up and sent to France ,I got gassed on the Somme ,as I lay dying on the battlefield all I could think of was this yew tree and the view. I became very agitated, and turned to look at my young companion I said Brian are you telling me you died in the great war gassed, That’s right simon he said, How do you know my name ,I have been sent to collect you I know all about you ,But most importantly like you this is my favourite place to be. You passed away 10 minutes ago we both have a lot in common he said with a warm smile .
I think it’s fair to say Burnley has to be one of the most famous towns in East Lancashire, A town made famous for its huge connection to the Lancashire textile industry. At one time Burnley mill workers would boast, Lets clothe Great Britain before breakfast and the rest of the world afterwards. The queen street Mill is a reminder of those days and a fabulous visitor attraction open to the public today. Most visitors to Lancashire would probably look on the town as purely industrial, However the town boasts one of the most picturesque halls in the red rose county the fabulous Townley hall. Home to The Townley family they seem to have been involved in every aspect of British history, in the town they were described as local royalty. For are story, we are going to turn the clock back in time to 1745 probably one of the most famous dates in British history. Firstly, the Townley family like so many other Lancashire land owners were catholic and very proud of their faith. As we all now in the reign of king Henry V.lll he completely outlawed the catholic faith, in fact any one preaching Catholicism would be treated like we would treat a modern-day terrorist killed on the spot. Francis Townley found the military of great interest, sadly he was fully aware that as a catholic he could not gain a commission in the British army. So, he joined the French Army gaining a commission in 1728 and seeing action with the French army rising to Colonel. Apparently, his men loved him and his fellow officers remarked on his excellent command of the French language. In 1734 he returned to his native Burnley and his beloved ancestral home Townley hall. Francis like all fellow Catholics felt actions against his faith deeply concerning, but was delighted when he was made aware of bonny prince Charlie arriving in the Outer Hebrides on the isle of Erisckay on the 23rd of July 1745. This of course was the start of what history has described as the Jacobite rebellion. The intention of the prince was to put a Stuart a catholic on the thrown of England, on arriving in Scotland he had huge support from the many clans who took up the sword to support the young pretender as the prince was known. The battle plan was to invade England through Carlisle Penrith Shap Kendal Lancaster. In the market town of Kendal, the mayor john Firth proved to be an excellent negotiator, He met the advance party of Jacobite’s on his pure white horse. His words in the town centre take all the alcohol to***co s***f beef but please leave the girls and women alone. apparently, this was agreed, and this huge Scottish invasion party made its way towards the town of Lancaster. It was in the town that the prince found to his delight a handsome officer with Jacobite emblems on his uniform, none other than Colonel Francis Townley from Burnley, who had formed a regiment all English Catholics called the Manchester regiment. The Jacobite army must have been pleasantly surprised to find English foot soldiers on their side, of course fellow Catholics. News of this huge army was heard in London, causing huge panic, Banks were inundated with concerned customers taking all their money out, At the prospect of the Scottish invasion. The French army were gathering in the channel ports ready to invade, all they needed was the word. However, disaster was about to happen the Jacobite’s stopped in derby it could have been a fear of what lay ahead or supply problems, But they made the fatal decision to go back up north .Had the prince continued Brexit would never have happened .The Jacobite army made its way back up north with the English red coats hot on their tail under the command of the duke of Cumberland with his sword in their backs .The market town of Kendal prepared itself for another invasion of the Scots ,The mayor john firth evacuated all the towns females as he was fully aware that the retreating Scots would be a rabble and in no mood for negotiating .One family called the Carroduses they had eight children the youngest was seven and called Gracie, they had evacuated there house on the high street ,But had forgotten Grace as she was sleeping upstairs .As the Jacobite rabble arrived in Kendal looting took place .The noise woke Gracie up she got out of bed and made her way downstairs, She opened the front door and walked in to the street ,Her white nightdress flowing in the wind ,her golden hair also ,The Jacobite’s looked in shock at her ,Some started to run away some started to kneel in prayer ,they where convinced she was an angel ,And diverted from the town centre towards the village of Shap .For many years in Kendal town centre stood the Angel hotel sadly now long gone ,Young Gracie had unwittingly saved the town and became a legend .The Jacobite army what was left of them got to the city of Carlisle ,The young pretender ordered colonel Francis Townley to hold the city whilst he made his escape. The colonel and his English Manchester regiment put up a stiff defence but were no match for the dukes red coats. Colonel Francis Townley was captured he informed the duke that he had a commission in the French army and wished to be treated as a prisoner of war. The duke of Cumberland shouted you are no French officer but a traitor to your country. The Colonel was taken to Newgate prison London and then sentenced to death, In a most barbaric way hung drawn and quartered a cruel and painful death. His head was placed on a pike at temple bar London, However the Townley family had permission to bring the head home to Townley hall where it was placed in a wickerwork basket with a napkin over it. And every year the family would toast there brave ancestor, The Colonels skull was placed in the chapel behind an oak panel and left for many years. However, when Townley hall became the property of Burnley borough council the head was discovered in the chapel and immediately sent to saint peters church in the family tomb. that’s when rumours of the colonel’s ghost was seen in the long gallery a lonely figure with a head under his arm. He has certainly scared staff and the odd police officer over the years it seems he loved the old building so much he couldn’t bear to leave it . Townley hall is well worth a visit, I have over the years had the pleasure of conducting tours there every room has a different story as you have just heard, Burnley borough council are responsible for these magnificent buildings upkeep and what a marvellous job they have done, The hall is also home to the art gallery and some fabulous artifacts including local Victoria cross winners, my advice is pay a visit you will be very pleasantly surprised. Simon Entwistle There is a video on you tube to accompany this story under Townley hall tales from the grave [email protected]https://youtu.be/YGBSU5VhqXw?si=9mumpx7ROfAkiGR-
According to the national press we are losing public houses at a frightening rate Across the United Kingdom, the great British public house had become a national institution. A place to meet, A place to have fun, A place full of memories for all of us. However, It seems the 21st century has a problem with these gorgeous old ancient inns that had survived the great recessions and the horrors of world wars. Some feel this is the cost of Alcohol the smoking ban and of course driving under the influence. The names of are inns have always fascinated me, and most importantly pub signs, there are some fabulous names out there, Like Kendal’s C**k and Dolphin now sadly gone, And the golden rule Ambleside to name a few. What I love about these fabulous inns are the stories that they all have to tell, heroes villains’ ghosts and the odd Murder. In 2012 I had an idea that really did catch on in the world of tourism, I live in the beautiful Ribble valley, An area I can only describe as the Lake district meets the Yorkshire Dales. There are some spectacular villages out there that all have their own pubs some dating back to the 18th centuries. All these inns have fascinating stories behind them. I researched a variety of stories relating to the history and characters that frequented them that, I felt would make a very good guided tour in the form of a mini bus tour visiting five ancient inns, And yes having a drink in all of them. The tour starts in Clitheroe by the railway station and we make are way by mini bus straight to the village of Waddington and a fabulous old inn called the lower buck in ,I understand the Buck dates back to 1729.Are story starts on a beautiful may day in 1833 the Bucks landlord is Mr William Southworth by all accounts he was exceptionally good at his job ,He had a wife and eight children that lived with him .This may day was going to prove a very sad one for his family .William made his way across the village to the local butcher to buy meat .The butcher was a Mr Thomas Crowther ,On entering the shop William was somewhat shocked to see Crowther actually hitting Mrs Crowther, He could not just stand there so he intervened ,but in doing so he immediately became engaged in a fight with Crowther. William was quite a powerfully built man, and soon overpowered his opponent Crowther, leaving him on the floor groaning from a punch to the chin. That night Crowther in an alcohol fuelled temper made his way in to the lower buck, Shouting, You have been telling people about me hitting my wife. William protested all I did was rescue your wife from a nasty hiding replied Southworth, Crowther shouted I will have you for this and for the second time inside 24 hours both men came to blows. William was getting the upper hand again when Crowther reached in to his jacket and produced a butcher’s knife, He plunged the knife deep in to William’s chest and pierced his heart, mortally wounded Southworth made his way to the door and collapsed on the cobble stones outside the door. He died shortly after in the arms of his weeping wife and children lamenting at his untimely death. Crowther started to run away, But was arrested in the next village west Bradford by police constable Pinder. Before 1974 this area came under the west riding of Yorkshire so Crowther was sent to the York assises and put on trial, there he was found not guilty of murder but manslaughter and deported to Tasmania where he was worked to death soon after arriving. However, to this day you can see his graffiti on the outside wall of the York mews museum the old prison. We then after a swift ale make are way back on the mini bus and set of for the village of Slaidburn and the magnificent Hark to bounty Inn again dating back to the early 18th century, The inn owes its name to one of the foxhounds belonging to that famous huntsman John peel, who said those famous words Hark to bounty whilst enjoying a drink inside ,Bounty of course was barking in a restless manner waiting for the hunt to begin. Because Slaidburn is so isolated the inn was used as a court for offenders to be brought to justice. To this very day upstairs you will find the old law courts, Decommissioned after 1974. The courts did cover quite a horrific murder in .1855 the sad story of a little boy called Thomas gardener ,his only crime in life was to be unloved .His mother grace Isherwood came from Dalton in Furness, She had two sons the youngest being poor Thomas . Grace heard about a job as a housekeeper to a farmer in the Newton area she took her eldest son with her after being successful in her application as house keeper .The farmer took a shine to grace and offered to marry her ,Although she was a lot younger that the farmer she accepted the proposal of marriage .He accepted her son, However grace never told him about the second son Thomas ,She had left him in care at Dalton ,But apparently not sent any money to pay for his keep. Grace received a letter from her sister Isabella wrote to grace informing her that as a result of no money for Thomas’s keep, she was going to bring him to Clitheroe, And told her sister to meet her at the railway station. In those days of course no telephones just communication by letter, So grace had no option but to meet her sister three days after receiving this letter. The train pulled in to Clitheroe station ,Grace met her sister Isabella and little Thomas .Grace shouted at her sister I cannot take Thomas back to the farm my husband will throw me out ,he doesn’t now I have another son .Both sisters thought about the predicament ,And came up with an answer let’s take Thomas to the workhouse and leave him there .It seemed there problems were over and the problem solved .The took the little boy to the workhouse and met the manager ,He said yes we will take the little boy ,But one of you will have to stay as well due to his age .Grace and Isabella decided this was not an option, And politely told the manager no thank you. They then set of on the long walk over the fells towards the village of slaidburn it was at an area known as Langcliffe bridge and the stream there. This was going to be Thomas’s last day on planet earth , The following day a couple Mr and Mrs Bargh came across the boys body in his watery grave lying face down in 18 inches of water .Both women are arrested and an enquiry takes place ,Grace and Isabella told the court that the little boy had died due to being wrapped in rugs to keep him warm .However a post mortem made it clear that he had died due to drowning .It seemed that the evidence against both women seemed very strong .What has amazed historians over the years that both women are found not guilty .So how did Thomas find himself dead in the stream ,Well I will leave the verdict to you .We now climb back in are mini bus and make are way down the hodder valley and on to land owned by his majesty king Charles the third ,And visit the fabulous inn at Whitewell ,A truly gorgeous hotel , With some fabulous tales behind its walls .Are story starts at Townley hall Burnley 1854 and a marvellous gentleman called peregrine Townley , He heard about some land coming up for sale in the village of Dunsop bridge .The land auction would take place at the inns sale room. Peregrine was also fully aware that if he went to the sale people would recognise him as being a very wealthy man and put plants in the auction room to deliberately put the price up .So he concocted a fabulous plan ,He had six weeks to prepare ,in that period of time he didn’t shave ,he grew his hair and on the day of the auction, He got an old suit and ripped the sleeves off and also tore the trousers ,giving the distinct impression that he was indeed a tramp. On the day of the land auction he walked from Burnley to the inn at Whitewell looking very like a gentleman of the road . There was sleet in the air and a howling wind by the time he got to the inn, he was not only soaking wet but also shattered by the journey. However, he looked the part an old tramp. He knocked on the door the inn keeper opened the door to be met by the sight of an old man dressed in rags, Can I help you said the inn keeper. Have you got some soup for an old man replied peregrine, of course said the inn keeper feeling compassion for the tramp. He ushered peregrine inside and placed a steaming bowl of vegetable soup in front of him. A large group arrived outside the tramp asked the innkeeper what are those people doing outside he enquired. Oh, there here for the land auction at 1.00pm the Auctioneer is expecting a very wealthy man from Burnley called Peregrine Townley, they expect him to put the biggest bid in for the land at Dunsop bridge. A wry smile came across peregrines face, Could I please watch the auction he asked, the innkeeper started to laugh you’re a tramp man you have no money what use is an auction to a man with no money. Please can I just watch said peregrine, well it won’t do any harm said the innkeeper on the understanding that the old tramp stands at the back of the action room and doesn’t say a word. At 1.00pm exactly the Auctioneer arrived from the city of London, On entering the room he surveyed all inside, And mentioned have we a Mr Peregrine Townley with us today, We have been informed he will be making the highest bid today, But as he is not here I can only presume he is not interested in today’s sale. The Auctioneer then shouted right gentlemen lets have your bids for the land at Dunsop bridge. From the back of the room the old tramp shouted, I will bid five pounds, The room erupted in laughter as five pounds would not by the land, And secondly an old tramp wouldn’t even have five pennies in his pocket. The room again resounded to laughter as the Auctioneer with tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks, Brought the gavel down, Shouting sold to the old geezer at the back of the room howling with laughter. However, a huge smile came across peregrines face as he made his way to the front of the room to the podium where the auctioneer stood, The Auctioneers tears turned from joy to pure horror as the tramp produced a five-pound note. The room turned to silence as the auctioneer shouted who are you, the tramp replied, Peregrine Townley Townley hall Burnley. That day he purchased land worth hundreds of pounds. The auctioneer ordered a very stiff drink and on returning to London was sacked, his employers had to sell all their assets to pay the land owners a fair price, it seems peregrines plan had worked perfectly. We now make are way back on the mini bus and make are way to the beautiful village of Chipping and a fabulous 1758 inn called the sun inn. The village was awarded the Britain in bloom gold star from the RHS in 2010 something the locals are very proud of .The sun inn is reputed to be the most haunted inn in Lancashire regarding the sad story of lizzie dean. There are many versions of Lizzie’s story this is the one I tend to use .Lizzie was 19 years old when she left the city of London to escape the smog and smoke of the city in 1834, She heard about the textile revolution in Lancashire and obtained work in a factory in longridge however she did need accommodation and made her way to chipping and the sun inn .There she met the landlord and asked him about a room to rent , the landlord replied , A lass as bonny as you would do well working behind my bar, You will bring a lot of custom in. Lizzie thought that’s better than working in the factory, And she accepted a job as a scullery maid. She apparently really enjoyed the job and got on very well with the other staff member Elisia they became good friends. Lizzie thought this is better than living in London fresh air to breath delightful surroundings and a job she really liked. One day a handsome young lad called David arrived on the scene, he took one look at Lizzie and apparently became besotted, within three days he had proposed to her, now lizzie didn’t really no him and David likewise but the moment really struck her Yes she said I will marry you. They couple made there way across the village centre to saint Bartholomew’s church situated directly in front of the sun inn. There they met the reverend and planned there happy day. Lizzie went back to work with a spring in her step, She had never been as happy, A handsome young husband to spend the rest of her life with, A job she liked, her future seemed perfect, Sadly this was going to turn very sour, two days before the wedding David got cold feet and went to see Lizzie. Ime sorry love I don’t want to marry you he said, But I would like to marry your friend Alisia. Poor lizzies’ heart was snapped in two, what a painful cruel thing to say, she was deeply wounded, and as you can imagine her relationship with Alisia became very frosty. On the day of David and Alisia’s wedding, Poor Lizzy absolutely heartbroken made her way to the attic and opened the window, She could see right down the Lenth of the church path to the church door from her vantage point .She tearfully watched the groom arrive then the bride .She shuffled her way in to the window frame , She tearfully made a noose. for herself and attached the end to the bed, She waited for the wedding march, As she watched the church door open ,With David and Elisia arm in arm start to walk down the path she jumped ,breaking her neck. David and Elisia and the wedding party looked up at the window in horror. The landlord quickly got a ladder and cut the poor girls body down. In her clenched fist was a letter saying I wish to be buried at the entrance to the church so David and Elisia will feel remorse for what they have done to me and when they go to church will have to walk past my grave. Well today in the 21st century lizzies grave has dare I say it become a tourist attraction; they say her ghost is a frequent visitor to the Sun inn. We now get back on the mini bus after an excellent pint of real ale and make are way to the most popular tourism village in the ribble valley the village of whalley and the fabulous swan hotel. The swan hotel was built in 1780 ,And to this very day dominates the village centre ,We are now going to turn the clock back to 1842 and a young lady who worked there of the name of Mary lane .Now through no fault of her own she suffered from learning difficulties , But by all accounts’ she was a good worker ,She sadly became pregnant to an unknown guest ,The landlord James Charnley felt she would be incapable of being a mother and told her when she gives birth the baby will be taken away and fostered outside the area . Poor Mary gave birth to a perfectly heathy baby girl, Charnley had the baby taken away immediately. And she was fostered, outside the area Mary may have suffered from learning difficulties but the one thing she did have like any mother was a deep love for her baby daughter, The pain in her heart became so intolerable that she sadly took her life on the upstairs landing. Well it seems she is still in the building as she has been seen on many occasions these past centuries. In 1968 a family from Ipswich Suffolk were making there way up to the lake district and decided to brake the journey, by stopping in whalley . They drove in to the car park a mum dad two daughters. On entering the swan hotel, the father and the two daughters went to the bar to order refreshments and an evening meal. The mother went upstairs, she was a very talented women to describe her would be a spirit medium, She could see things that you and I cannot. On entering the bedroom of the landing, she became aware of a spiritual presence and made contact through her mediumship skills, Marys ghost told her about the events of 1842, The medium listened and took in the story, She then went downstairs to join her husband and daughters, She went to the bar and informed the landlord about her experience upstairs with Mary lane The landlord who was drying a beer glass at the time, the glass slipped through his fingers and smashed on the floor . His eyes widened in shock to take in the fact this woman from Suffolk who had only been inside the swan for a matter of minutes was fully aware of the story of Mary Lane. The last confirmed sighting of this poor girl’s spirit was on a pickwick night, When the village celebrates Christmas with street entertainment and indeed a truly excellent Christmas spirit. So, if you would like to book a ribble valley haunted inns tour then please do contact me. [email protected]
37 Littlemoor Road
Clitheroe
BB71ES
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