A Short Film about Kirkham Church

The famous travel writer and admirer of church architecture, Pevsner, called the tower and spire of St. Michael’s church in Kirkham: "Perhaps the finest work of Edmund Sharpe", which just about sums up this article because, unless you live in Kirkham, you’ve probably never heard of either of them.
We haven’t had a Sunday video for a while. Not that it matters, because virtually nobody watches these things anyhow. If they did, we wouldn’t have had the debate about the pronunciation of Fylde and Wyre recently, seeing as the Stalmine salt mines film must have mentioned both locations quite audibly several times. Regardless of that, I thought I’d bung another video up anyhow, just to make it look as though I’ve been busy, even though all I did was type in the words ‘Kirkham’ and ‘Church’ over at Google Video.
So, how about a bit of history to go with tonight’s main feature then (also obtained by typing in the words ‘Kirkham’, ‘Church’ and ‘History’ at Google)?
St. Michael’s in Kirkham (according to the website I’ve just half inched this lot from) dates all the way back to 684AD. Not that there’s anything left of the original building to see nowadays, of course, the present edifice being rebuilt in 1822. The nave, apparently, was put together by the Preston architect, Robert Roper (presumably he had some help) on the foundations of the older building, in 1844 the west tower and spire were added by the Lancaster architect, Edmund Sharpe...again, obviously either an incredibly well-built bloke or one whose friends don’t warrant a mention, and the chancel was chucked into the whole ensemble in 1853.
Inside the church, or so my sources tell me, the roof is supported by ‘industrial’ looking beams, pierced by quatrefoil and dagger openings that wouldn’t look out of place under a railway bridge. (Whoever wrote that was obviously impressed.) The font is Victorian, the stained glass likewise albeit mimicking a medieval renaissance style and a ‘cased reredos’ behind the altar (whatever one of them is) originates from Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford.
But enough of this informative preamble. We know that you’re dying to click that play button and put your expensively obtained broadband to good use. Filmed on what is obviously a typical British summer afternoon, we proudly present ‘Kirkham Parish Church Spire Undergoing Repair’. Stephen Spielberg is trembling in his mansion tonight:

Gas, Salt and Some Place in Kansas

This one's interesting. (Well, it's interesting if you're running on Broadband at any rate. If you're still on Dial-Up with its dodgy pilot-lights and its little men in peaked caps waving red flags in front of it, it's going to be exteremely boring. In fact the chances are you'll still be waiting for it load in tomorrow morning.) It's a video that was made to raise concerns over the American company Canatxx's proposals to re-use the Stalmine Saltmines (try saying that quickly after four pints) for gas storage.
The proposal (in case you're not familiar with the story, in which case you're either not a local or you've been locked in a cellar by a mustachioed German for the last fifteen years) was thrown out of Parliament some time ago (following God knows how much wastage of public and private expenditure) so this is an historic video in its own right.
More than that, though, it also provides us with a potted history of Salt Manufacturin in the Over Wyre district (and, of course, the subsequent disasters), so it's got two Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian veins running through it for the price of one.
Anyhow, here it is, roughly ten minutes in length if you ignore the two or three minutes right at the end dedicated to some town in Kansas exploding dramatically ("There's no place like home...There's no place like home..."). So crank up the volume, sit back with a brew and enjoy:

More Midweek Clippings

Not sure why I call these intermediate postings 'midweek'ers when they appear on Sunday night, which is effectively the weekend and about as far away from the mid-week as it's possible to get, but, whatever the case, in a desperate attempt to keep our reader amused until the next exciting instalment of the Tale of Cockle Hall (after that they're on their own) I've been searching far and wide across the internet for some video clips associated with matters Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian.
First up then, a short (and some might say 'pointless' - and they wouldn't be wrong) movie shot from the spire of Pilling Church on an obviously windy day. You'll be pleased to know that the video itself only lasts 20 seconds, after which, no doubt, the cameraman gave up his will to live and leapt to his death:

Next up, just under two minutes (and that's about one minute thirty seconds longer than you'd want to spend in the company of these people) of somebody driving their big, macho car up and down the Roman ford at Garstang. Presumably they had no idea the ford was Roman at the time...or possibly even what a Roman was. Still, it's great to see our local heritage coming in useful for something:

After that, I reckon we could all do with a bit of what we enjoy the most. We couldn't leave this posting without a midget or two, so how's this for a bit of sauce? A midget wedding in Blackpool. It just doesn't get any better really, does it?

The Midweek Midget

We haven't had any midgets cluttering up the Fylde and Wyre Antiquarian for a while, which is probably why we've been losing viewers faster than Dr. Who when Bonnie Langford was in it. So, hold on to your hats devotees of diminutive Victorian oddities, it's time to rectify the situation with this mid-week bonus offering. And for those of you who don't have access to broadband, don't worry, it's only short (joke copyrighted to Bob Monkhouse circa 1876):

Highly Recommended…for the good of your health

Before anybody starts, yes that it is my ugly mush, and no I can’t help the way I look (I’m descended from the first Earls of Derby who thoughtfully left me an inheritance of inbred features, arthritis and gallbladder problems but absolutely sod all in the way of their ill-gotten wealth…mind you, I’m at an advantage, because I’m on in the inside looking out and, besides, it’s a ‘trustworthy’ sort of face because, well…nobody has to worry about their girlfriends running off with me). However, you shouldn’t be looking at my unsightly mug. You ought to be looking at the book I’m holding.

It’s called ‘Archaeology: What it is, where it is, and how to do it’ by ‘Paul Wilkinson’. And no, it isn’t one of mine and Michelle’s…and Paul Wilkinson isn’t even a mate of ours. So you might be wondering why we’re going to such lengths to promote it. Well, the truth is, not all the members of Wyre Archaeology are fully conversant with excavation and recording techniques…and that’s putting it mildly. When it comes to identifying the composite values of stratigraphic layers, using the universally accepted symbols for subversive undercuts or filling in context sheets correctly, quick frankly, most of you are completely useless. And, let’s face it, that sort of ignorance makes us archaeological geniuses that are saddled with the rest of you look less than the expert and professional people what we are.
Therefore, the committee have decided in their infinite wisdom (and quite rightly too) that it’s about time you lot found out how to conduct yourselves in the field. And because the techniques vary slightly from society to society, we thought it was also time to standardise the approach…at least within our own immediate circle.
There are currently three copies of the above book (which basically gives you as much information as you need to get started and hold your own with those in the know) available from the Wyre Archaeology library. And most of the committee have bought copies of it as well. But, as you’ve probably gathered, this is nowhere near enough to deal with our ever-growing membership…and besides, books like this take time to thoroughly digest and cogitate upon. So we’re recommending that everyone who’s already a member of, or intends to join, Wyre Archaeology buys, studies and absorbs their own copy of this relatively slim volume, in an attempt to avoid digging through important sediments, misdiagnosing small finds and generally incurring the wrath of Ken Emery and Gary Thornton.
Does that sound fair enough? Right…here’s the address where you can pick up a copy online:
Follow this link now!
It’s less that a tenner to buy, and it could save you from a severe beating later on. On the other hand, if you don’t have a Pay Pal or Credit Card account you could always have a word with Gary Thornton at the next Wyre Archaeology meeting and he’ll gladly order a copy for you. But make sure you do, because it’s in your own interests to swat up in advance of the digging season.
’Nuff said. However, before I sign off until Friday, I just wanted to add the following addendum to the posting below, sent to us, as always by the ever-resourceful Phil. This is actual stock-footage of John Lester’s midgets; a rare insight into exactly what it was that drove the Victorians and Edwardians mad with desire for the mischievous little buggers. (To be honest, I’ve watched the footage myself, and now I’m even more perplexed as to what the obsession was…but we’ll let the rest of you make up your own minds.)

The Pleasure Beach: The Early Years

This week we thought we’d take a look at Blackpool Pleasure Beach in its infancy…or to put it another way, when it was actually still a beach and not a huge slab of tarmac coated with candyfloss, toffee apple cores and grockle puke. By the late nineteenth century the gypsies who’d originally lived near Uncle Tom’s Cabin and had attracted early visitors to the town with their ‘romantic lifestyle’ (ahem…we’re saying nothing…we pushed our luck with what we said about the Ellis’s a few weeks ago) had moved to a new site close to the Star Inn. Here Gypsy Sarah Boswell would, apparently, sit in front of her tent smoking a pipe, whilst Mother Herring made apocalyptic predictions (sounds like the residents of Chatsworth Avenue today if you ask me). Amongst the other attractions at the gypsy camp was a skittle alley, the inevitable fortune telling booths, a black-and-white minstrel show (although the actual name it ran under was considerably less politically correct than we’re willing to record on this website) and even a switchback railway; all precursors to the Pleasure Beach itself. And, because we know you’re curious, here’s the whole ensemble complete with the‘aerial flying’ device (otherwise known as ‘stupidly hanging from a washing line’).

Eventually the land was bought up, the gypsies turfed off and the Pleasure Beach proper came into being, the only ride available in those early days being Sir Hiram Maxim’s Flying Machines. Believe it or not, the Flying Machines are still working today, and they aren’t clapped out or dangerous at all, we’ve been informed.
The photograph below shows the aforementioned ride without any of the white-knuckle erections of steel and concrete surrounding it at present.

All of which really is just a preamble to the main event. In truth, we’ve come across an excellent bit of film footage tucked away on the net that we want to post here, but it would have looked a bit lost on its own, hence the stuff above. Some of our readers might remember a television programme recently presented by Dan Crookshank (or however his surname’s spelt) in which he retraced the journey taken by Claude Friese-Greene the Edwardian filmmaker. En route, Friese-Greene filmed Lancashire. Albert Clayton was even interviewed on the telly about some footage of Garstang that nobody recognised. If we ever manage to track that bit down we’ll post it here and see if you can do any better.
Anyhow…here’s the footage of Blackpool Pleasure Beach in 1924…mostly…there’s quite a lengthy bit at the start showing North Pier at sunset because Friese-Greene wanted to make full use of his patented colour technique. He probably shouldn’t have bothered. There’s no sound to the film, but it’s certainly worth a gander in our opinion:

Playground Spectacular (Part Two)

Did everybody enjoy Playground Spectacular Part One? (Don't all shout at once.) Well, we're sure you did...which is why, by way of a mid-week posting, we're putting a link up to Part Two, featuring the Miss Blackpool competition held annually at the open air baths in South Shore (now both long since gone), Charlie Cairoli (also now long since gone) and various other jolly old sights and attractions from the Fylde Coast's most beloved resort. (Keep a look out for the 'Windmill Land Dairies' logo on the side of the delivery van...Allan Clarke had a lot to be responsible for:

As always, just click on the image above and you should be directed to the relevant page at You Tube.

Playground Spectacular (Part One)

Time for a midweek posting. We haven't had one of these for a while...at least, not one just for the sake of it that isn't full of doom and gloom. Anyhow, we've been trawling the net recently for interesting videos related, in some small measure, to the Fylde and Wyre's history, more of which, no doubt, we'll be posting over the next few months. But let's kick off with this little gem; a promotional film for Blackpool in the 1950s. (We've no idea how to embed this clip into our website...but it's about ten minutes long and if you click on the image below it should, with a bit of luck, take you to the relevant page at You Tube.)

Before you click however, a few words from our sponsor. There are a couple of matters worth looking out for. Firstly, the number of people on the beach. Nowadays you'd be lucky to find a solitary seagull stalking the sands, but times and tourists were obviously a great deal simpler back then, and raw sewerage was probably considered healthy. Secondly, there's the elephants. Not something you're going to run across on the promenade nowadays, although some of the grockles might well be mistaken for them. Thirdly, the line "The history of this Lancashire resort only goes back 300 years." (Yes...there's sound with this one, so crank up the volume.) We'd like to take issue with that, but the announcer's probably long since dead so, suffice it to say, we're currently working on a book that's going to add 5,000 years to that misguided figure.

Anyway...all that aside, here's 'Playground Spectacular (Part One)'. It's clean and homely and pleasant and even the meat rack's come out a treat.

Oh yes...while we're here...don't forget to sign our 'Visitor's Book' via the link at the top of the right hand column. It only takes a minute and it makes us feel that we're not banging our heads in vain.

Most Haunted at Mains (Part Four)

It's midweek posting time again, which can only mean the last thrilling instalment of 'Most Haunted at Mains Hall'. (I can hear the cheers going up around the Fylde as I type.) The last few minutes (i.e. the summing up bit...although it's probably best for the viewers to sum it up for themselves) are missing; current whereabouts unknown (so count yourselves lucky).

Regular viewers to this board might be interested to know that we've recently tracked down 'Most Haunted at Pendle Hill', featuring the legendary Derek Acorah and his classic 'Mother Demdyke' impression/possession. Let us know if you want us to post it here and we'll do our best to accomodate. In the meantime, let the ghosties and ghoulies ensue...

Most Haunted at Mains (Part Three)

Time for another midweek posting, which basically means the third part of 'Most Haunted at Mains Hall'. (Don't worry...there's only one more segment to go. After that we'll need to track down the missing five minutes at the end of the programme...although, to be honest, we probably won't bother.)

Incidentally, as regular viewers of Most Haunted (working on the assumption that such people exist) will be aware, the programme doesn't usually censor itself for swear words. (After all, that's part of the fun, watching Yvette Fielding spewing forth a torrent of expletives in panic.) And, to be honest, as historians who realise the importance of 'warts and all history', neither do we. However, I can only assume that You Tube (those great moral guardians of the Internet) have different ideas, so please don't blame us for all the inappropriate bleeps.

Anyhow, here's part three...murdered monks and all. (To be honest we'd read somewhere that they'd died of the plague, but who are we to argue with the psychics?)

Most Haunted at Mains (Part Two)

Time for a mid-week posting…not something we do very often but we didn’t want to keep everyone on tenterhooks waiting for the second part of ‘Most Haunted at Mains Hall’. Richard Felix’s claims in part one, incidentally, that the lands around Mains were first settled in the eleventh century, might have been a bit on the stingy side, especially considering that, at the gymkhana field next to Old Mains Lane, evidences for a Bronze Age settlement have been unearthed in the form of flint tools, red deer bones and Bronze Age pottery, and that a Romano/British road is known to have crossed ‘Aldwath’ at Point Shard, the cuttings of which are clearly Roman. It seems inconceivable given these facts that Mains itself wasn’t occupied during prehistoric times and throughout the Norse/Saxon period etc. Not that we’re complaining. Richard Felix has apparently been sacked from the ‘Most Haunted’ team now anyway, although probably on personal grounds rather than for his research.
By the way, we’ll be posting as normal on Friday. This is just a ‘bonus’ (if you can call it that)…

Most Haunted at Mains (Part One)

There are two postings this week, because we're feeling generous. Besides, we thought that the one below this (concerning Poulton's market place) might be a bit negative, so we wanted to lighten the board up a touch.

We always like to have a go at something different, so, with that in mind, below (hopefully) you'll see a video player containing the first part (there's actually four in total, the rest of which, providing we don't receive too many objections, we'll post at irregular intervals over the new few weeks) of 'Most Haunted at Mains Hall'.

You can blame Adele Yeomans for requesting the Bowen map a few weeks ago for this. She appears in the video, by the way, so keep an eye open for her.

Unfortunately Derek 'the Legend' Acorah doesn't. But as soon as we can track down the footage of him being possessed at the Winter Gardens we'll post that here as well.

Ghosts and local history...what could be better? (Well, correctly explaining to their audience that Mains Hall is actually in the Wyre and not in Blackpool might be an improvement, but nonetheless...)
Anyhow, turn your speakers on, make sure you've got broadband, click on the 'play' arrow and enjoy...providing it's working, of course, and you're not too frightened to actually watch it. It ends rather abruptly, but like we say, we'll post the rest soon.

By way of a disclaimer, we have no control over 'You Tube' products, and can't be held responsible for any sleepless nights that might follow.