What do you think?
Rate this book
Yorkshire Oddities, Incidents and Strange Events
Excerpt from Yorkshire Incidents and Strange EventsThis was the only Occasion of my visiting the church. I confess the impression left on my nerves was not pleasant, and I do not think I should like to risk the effect of a repetition of it. Apologising for thus troubling you with my experiences.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
- GenresHistory
304 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1987
About the author
Sabine Baring-Gould
901 books71 followersSabine Baring-Gould was born in the parish of St Sidwell, Exeter. The eldest son of Edward Baring-Gould and his first wife, Sophia Charlotte (née Bond), he was named after a great-uncle, the Arctic explorer Sir Edward Sabine. Because the family spent much of his childhood travelling round Europe, most of his education was by private tutors. He only spent about two years in formal schooling, first at King's College School in London (then located in Somerset House) and then, for a few months, at Warwick Grammar School (now Warwick School). Here his time was ended by a bronchial disease of the kind that was to plague him throughout his long life. His father considered his ill-health as a good reason for another European tour.
In 1852 he was admitted to Cambridge University, earning the degrees of Bachelor of Arts in 1857, then Master of Arts in 1860 from Clare College, Cambridge. During 1864, he became the curate at Horbury Bridge, West Riding of Yorkshire. It was while acting as a curate that he met Grace Taylor, the daughter of a mill hand, then aged fourteen. In the next few years they fell in love. His vicar, John Sharp, arranged for Grace to live for two years with relatives in York to learn middle class manners. Baring-Gould, meanwhile, relocated to become perpetual curate at Dalton, near Thirsk. He and Grace were married in 1868 at Wakefield. Their marriage lasted until her death 48 years later, and the couple had 15 children, all but one of whom lived to adulthood. When he buried his wife in 1916 he had carved on her tombstone the Latin motto Dimidium Animae Meae ("Half my Soul").
Baring-Gould became the rector of East Mersea in Essex in 1871 and spent ten years there. In 1872 his father died and he inherited the 3,000 acre (12 km²) family estates of Lew Trenchard in Devon, which included the gift of the living of Lew Trenchard parish. When the living became vacant in 1881, he was able to appoint himself to it, becoming parson as well as squire. He did a great deal of work restoring St Peter's Church, Lew Trenchard, and (from 1883 – 1914) thoroughly remodelled his home, Lew Trenchard Manor.
In 1852 he was admitted to Cambridge University, earning the degrees of Bachelor of Arts in 1857, then Master of Arts in 1860 from Clare College, Cambridge. During 1864, he became the curate at Horbury Bridge, West Riding of Yorkshire. It was while acting as a curate that he met Grace Taylor, the daughter of a mill hand, then aged fourteen. In the next few years they fell in love. His vicar, John Sharp, arranged for Grace to live for two years with relatives in York to learn middle class manners. Baring-Gould, meanwhile, relocated to become perpetual curate at Dalton, near Thirsk. He and Grace were married in 1868 at Wakefield. Their marriage lasted until her death 48 years later, and the couple had 15 children, all but one of whom lived to adulthood. When he buried his wife in 1916 he had carved on her tombstone the Latin motto Dimidium Animae Meae ("Half my Soul").
Baring-Gould became the rector of East Mersea in Essex in 1871 and spent ten years there. In 1872 his father died and he inherited the 3,000 acre (12 km²) family estates of Lew Trenchard in Devon, which included the gift of the living of Lew Trenchard parish. When the living became vacant in 1881, he was able to appoint himself to it, becoming parson as well as squire. He did a great deal of work restoring St Peter's Church, Lew Trenchard, and (from 1883 – 1914) thoroughly remodelled his home, Lew Trenchard Manor.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
October 26, 2012
I was sure I found this over at Google Books, but now I can't seem to find the link - so here it is at Internet Archive:
http://archive.org/details/yorkshireo...
also
http://archive.org/details/yorkshireo...
The book consists of all sorts of stories about people who were considered oddities (eccentrics) - the man who pretended to be a prophet but who wasn't, the man who was disappointed in love and spent 40+ years in bed, the man who trained a bull to accept a rider and rode it in fox hunts, etc. All of the tales have the "collected in the neighborhood" folklore feel, yet here and there they are less folklore and more really good storytelling. For example at the end of The White House:
And that's the part of the story that's come after the ghost. If you can't imagine those caps of snow, well, then your imagine isn't running amuck like mine is.
Having said that there are some that really drag on slowly with the amount of details, so don't expect this to be a book full of exciting stories. Some are only mildly interesting. But it's almost better that way, when you've been lulled into a false sense of security by the other more quiet tales of people and suddenly there you are - bodies hunt on the gibbet. (That's not where they were hung by the way - leaving a body up to rot was a very old concept of law enforcement - 'here rot those who did evil, thus you should listen to their lesson.')
I enjoyed this one particular footnote, and wished that Baring-Gould had added more such notes, as I like this sort of information. Plus it also gives you an idea of the kind of research he was doing:
This note came after a point in the chapter (The One Pound Note) where I'd had to turn back and reread to make sure that the Joan in the text - who kept being referred to as "he" - was indeed spelled Joan. (There are multiple John's in the story.) After reading the footnote it made a lot more sense. The footnote was probably placed where it was because that was the part of the story where legal names came in.
http://archive.org/details/yorkshireo...
also
http://archive.org/details/yorkshireo...
The book consists of all sorts of stories about people who were considered oddities (eccentrics) - the man who pretended to be a prophet but who wasn't, the man who was disappointed in love and spent 40+ years in bed, the man who trained a bull to accept a rider and rode it in fox hunts, etc. All of the tales have the "collected in the neighborhood" folklore feel, yet here and there they are less folklore and more really good storytelling. For example at the end of The White House:
p. 204 "...On this hill a gibbet had been erected, and there the three bodies were hung, with their faces towards the dismal flat and the gurgling stream where the murdered man had been drowned. There they hung, blown about by the autumn storms, screeched over by the ravens and magpies, baked by the summer sun, their bare scalps capped with cakes of snow in the cold winter, til they dropped upon the ground, and then the bones were buried and the gallows cut down."
And that's the part of the story that's come after the ghost. If you can't imagine those caps of snow, well, then your imagine isn't running amuck like mine is.
Having said that there are some that really drag on slowly with the amount of details, so don't expect this to be a book full of exciting stories. Some are only mildly interesting. But it's almost better that way, when you've been lulled into a false sense of security by the other more quiet tales of people and suddenly there you are - bodies hunt on the gibbet. (That's not where they were hung by the way - leaving a body up to rot was a very old concept of law enforcement - 'here rot those who did evil, thus you should listen to their lesson.')
I enjoyed this one particular footnote, and wished that Baring-Gould had added more such notes, as I like this sort of information. Plus it also gives you an idea of the kind of research he was doing:
p. 274, footnote: "Greenwood is probably the most prevalent name in the neighborhood. Out of 755 entries in a public register in the neighborhood, the name Greenwood occurs 48 times, Helliwell 34, Sutcliffe 33, Cockcroft 18, Smith 18, Akroyd 15, Crabtree 15, Mitchell 14, Stanisfield 13, Uttley 13,....
We may here remark on the prevalence of patronymic names, which sometimes are really useful, however inelegant, in a district where the same names recur so frequently. Thus "John o' Abbie's" and "Joan o' Jim's" were the ordinary names of two individuals who were each legally designated John Stansfield. By how many useful variations is the name John Sutcliffe represented! To strangers this practice is the more puzzling from the frequent use of abbreviations, such as Eam, Than, Lol, Abbie, Jooas, Kit (or Katie), Joan, Tim, and Tum; For Edmund, Nathaniel, Lawrence, Abraham, Joseph, Catherine, John, Timothy, Thomas. There was formerly a "Jimmie o' Jamie, o' James, o' the Jumps." "George o' my Gronny's" and "Will o' Nobody's" are bold specimens of what may be done by the principle in question carried out with a little licence. Not unfrequently, also, people are named for their residences, as "John up th' steps," and "Old Ann o' th' Hinging Royd." Bye-names also become sometimes attached as if they were real family surnames. If it were not personal, many singular instances might be given. Persons are frequently unable, without some consideration, to recognize the legal names of their neighbors. Upon the hillside at Jumps, near Todmorden, I once asked a little girl who was her father. "Will o' th' Jumps," she replied. "And who's Will o' th' Jumps?" I again inquired. "He's Ailse o' th' Jumps, fellie," replied the girl; and I doubt whether she had any idea whatever of her legal surname.
This note came after a point in the chapter (The One Pound Note) where I'd had to turn back and reread to make sure that the Joan in the text - who kept being referred to as "he" - was indeed spelled Joan. (There are multiple John's in the story.) After reading the footnote it made a lot more sense. The footnote was probably placed where it was because that was the part of the story where legal names came in.
August 8, 2025
I thoroughly enjoyed Yorkshire Oddities by Sabine Baring-Gould. As someone who loves regional history and strange-but-true tales, this book was a treat, although I found myself going into several deep dives on google to find out more. Baring-Gould brings together a memorable collection of Yorkshire eccentrics, from harmless oddballs, infamous criminals, to genuine local legends, with warmth, curiosity, and humour.
One of my favourite accounts was that of Blind Jack of Knaresborough, a blind man who became a renowned road-builder in the 18th century. I knew about him already as frequently visit Knaresborough, but found some lovely anecdotes about his life here. Baring-Gould clearly admires him not just for his oddity, but for his sheer determination, genius and ingenuity.
What sets this book apart from many other Victorian collections is its refusal to fall into the usual trappings of ghost stories and superstition. Baring-Gould doesn’t sensationalize. In fact, he often tries to give rational explanations for the stranger tales, which makes the book feel more thoughtful and credible than a lot of similar works from the era.
It's perfect for fans of folklore, local history, or just good old-fashioned storytelling.
One of my favourite accounts was that of Blind Jack of Knaresborough, a blind man who became a renowned road-builder in the 18th century. I knew about him already as frequently visit Knaresborough, but found some lovely anecdotes about his life here. Baring-Gould clearly admires him not just for his oddity, but for his sheer determination, genius and ingenuity.
What sets this book apart from many other Victorian collections is its refusal to fall into the usual trappings of ghost stories and superstition. Baring-Gould doesn’t sensationalize. In fact, he often tries to give rational explanations for the stranger tales, which makes the book feel more thoughtful and credible than a lot of similar works from the era.
It's perfect for fans of folklore, local history, or just good old-fashioned storytelling.
July 6, 2023
I would not want to belittle the archivist or the writings, all of which were collected from the 1600s-1800s. Baring-Gould was obviously fascinated by Yorkshire. And while some would find the collection of letters and personal accounts to be fascinating, I, sadly am not one of them. I had THOUGHT I would be a big fan as I enjoy culture and the United Kingdom for sure. Anyway, it was not time wasted at all. I was particularly intrigued by the fact that Sabine Baring- Gould was the composer of that great hymn "Onward Christian Soldiers"!
February 18, 2023
Chapters of unmitigated tedium interspersed with a few genuine delights (and the occasional murder). I'm glad to say that the youth who boiled a cat was charged.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews