“Alchemy: the science of turning lead into gold. Or more often, the art of talking a lot of nonsense and charging handsomely for it.” — An old undertaker’s proverb (probably) I’ve always had a fascination with alchemists. Maybe it’s the funeral director in me - the sense of cloaks, secrets, crucibles, and the unspoken transformation of … Continue reading Three Alchemists Walk into a Bar: A Philosopher, a Fraudster, and a Gothic Madman
Tag: horror
The Tudors Break a Sweat: My Encounter With the Most Pointless Plague in History
Is there anything more British than politely dying of a mysterious illness while sweating profusely and refusing to make a fuss about it. Enter: The Sweating Sickness of 1485 - or as I like to call it, the Tudor’s very own bout of medieval man-flu, except it killed you quicker than a court summons from … Continue reading The Tudors Break a Sweat: My Encounter With the Most Pointless Plague in History
Mastro Titta: Pope’s Little Helper with a Big Sword
Giovanni Battista Bugatti - what a name, eh? It sounds like the kind of bloke you’d expect to sell you a fine bottle of chianti or offer unsolicited advice about your olive oil. But no - our man Bugatti wasn’t swirling wine or chasing goats in the hills. He was the official executioner for the … Continue reading Mastro Titta: Pope’s Little Helper with a Big Sword
Auntie Christ: Evil in a Lace Collar – Seaton’s Aunt
Most of us have at some point been fed cake by a relative we didn’t entirely trust – the sort of woman who keeps porcelain dolls in glass cabinets and refers to you exclusively as “it.” But Walter de la Mare, that poetic custodian of the uncanny, raises the stakes considerably in this morbid little … Continue reading Auntie Christ: Evil in a Lace Collar – Seaton’s Aunt
The Phantom in the Linen: On the Ubiquity of White Ladies, Grey Ladies, and Other Draped Nonsense
A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in Blanchland, Northumberland - a village so theatrically atmospheric it looks like it was designed by a heritage-obsessed monk with a fondness for mist. I was holed up in The Lord Crewe Arms, one of the North’s most famously haunted pubs - though frankly, the prices gave me … Continue reading The Phantom in the Linen: On the Ubiquity of White Ladies, Grey Ladies, and Other Draped Nonsense
Wording 