Showing posts with label Stanford's Guide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stanford's Guide. Show all posts

Sunday 21 April 2019

Bolton: Hearing the Shadowy Horses

It's a week when British temperatures rise from near-freezing to idyllic. Just miles across the English Channel, the Notre Dame Cathedral burns, and I travel to the north west of England for a court case.

Bolton le Moors
Photo by Jennifer Pittam


I've never been to Bolton le Moors before and, as always, I look forward to my trip. For a writer, it's great to have somewhere new to see. Writing tutors tell you time and time again, 'write about what you know'; took me years to realise that also means 'write about what you come to know'.

Bolton turns out to be a town of immense age, with a proud history in the cotton trade. James Arkwright invented the Spinning Jenny here,  so my Stanford's Guide tells me, and the building is now a funky record shop. The Grammar school was founded in 1516.


James Arkwright invented the Spinning Jenny here...
Photo by Jennifer Pittam

I didn't find the school but I loved being so near the parish church, St Peter's of Bolton-le-Moors. Amazingly in this modern world, the church is open and active every day. I was bowled over by the atmosphere in this place - the brooding, shadowy secrets of the moor loom, even though you're sat in the pews for a quiet word with Our Lord.

The Parish Church of Bolton-le-Moors
Photo by Jennifer Pittam


Armed with my trusty guide-book, I head off to the local pub 'The Olde Man and Scythe'.  This tavern is a glorious, black-and-white timbered affair, and the landlord very content to tell me all about it (at length, but landlords, like cab drivers, have to be allowed their say).

The Old Man & Scythe has a lovely landlord...
Photo by Jennifer Pittam


Bolton was staunchly 'for Parliament' during the English Civil War (perhaps more properly known as the British Civil War since everyone was drawn into it). Unfortunately for the 17th century populace, the surrounding lands were all for the King. Consequently, the little town suffered invasion and besiege on many an occasion. At one point it was stormed by 3,000 hostile soldiers, led by Prince Rupert of the Rhine and some 1,500 people died. Strong stuff, and obviously, someone must be to blame, so the Earl of Derby lost his head.  'Spent his last night at this very bar,' concludes our host, and gulps his pint with unholy relish.


Photos by Jennifer Pittam



I hear the shadowy horses, their long manes a-shake
Their hooves heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white;
The north unfolds above them clinging, creeping night.

W. B. Yeats 1865-1939




Jennifer Pittam has been published in: Aquarist & Pondkeeper, Astrology Monthly, Cosmopolitan,  Ether Books, People's Friend, Prediction Magazine, Romany Routes, The Lady. 

Competitions won: Coast to Coast Short Story Competition, 2nd Prize; Writers' Village Flash Fiction Competition, 1st Prize.