Derelict House, Croxton Lane, Middlewich

There’s something particularly intriguing about this house. It has become somewhat of a local mystery and talking point amongst local people for years now as to why this house eerily stands amongst the surrounding empty fields. For those of you who do not know of this house can find it situated along Croxton Lane in Middlewich, Cheshire. Croxton Lane is the road that runs off the main Roman road next to Morrison’s warehouse near Northwich and runs right through to Middlewich.

Being a local I decided to go and see the building for myself and to collect some photographs as I’m sure one day it will be gone.
The house is the ideal setting for a spooky Halloween trip although I would not advise anyone to enter the house as it is clearly unsafe. You will see from the photographs that the walls have decayed considerably and now only a skeleton of what was once probably a warm and welcoming home remains.

Now I have to be honest. I didn’t really feel scared as I walked around the building. There were no feelings of dread nor the feeling of eyes watching me as one may expect in such a setting. If anything, it was a feeling of overall sadness. Sadness for such a lovely building that has now been forgotten and left to wallow in history.
I did in fact go into the building from the rear (only a few feet) to catch a few images from the inside but did not stay in there for too long for fear of having a loose brick or rafter to fall and land on my head. That would be unfortunate. The inside now resembles a shell of empty and open rooms very much what you would expect from a house in its condition.

After spending a few more moments I left the house to continue to stand its course against the elements, of which one day will inevitably bring an end to its life and of the stories and conversations of which its ghost will remain.

So the question most people ask is “why has this house been left to decay for such a long time?”

The reason is a fairly simple one and has nothing to do with the so-called spirits that haunt its decaying walls. Bit of a shame really, as there is nothing better than a spooky tale to share amongst friends.

However, there is a more gruesome side to this house’s history albeit a small one.

There had been two incidents of suicide that had taken place in the house’s history. The first incident took place back in the 1970’s when  a local police officer named Glynn had visited the property due to a report of suicide, and sure enough when he got there, found some poor sole hanging from the rafters.

Another report took place in the 1990’s of similar nature of which I have a little more insight.

I just happened to be showing a colleague some of the photos I had taken of the house (the ones I have included in this post) and that I was in the process of writing a blog article on the house’s history when coincidently, he informed me that he actually knew and was in-fact a close friend of the person in question. He concluded with the story of which to be honest, left me feeling really quite sad. This was an incident that should never have taken place. The details however, I shall not disclose here but I can assure remains a sad and somewhat haunting tale in itself.

Despite these tales of woe, the reason the house is still left standing is not down to the evil spirits that turn any daring individual away, but down to the fact of the legalities and loop holes of ownership.

I have included a report from the Middlewich Guardian printed in May 2009 by David Morgan which I am sure will answer your questions of the houses history.

Readers solve mystery of derelict Croxton Lane cottage in Middlewich

By David Morgan
Saturday 16th May 2009

GUARDIAN readers have helped unveil the mystery surrounding the derelict cottage on Croxton Lane in Middlewich.

Reporter David Morgan was inundated with phone calls and emails from budding historians, keen to share their memories from the last 40 years.

On April 22, the Guardian printed a photo of the cottage taken by Jonathan Beech and appealed to readers to get in touch if they knew its history.

Alan O’Brien, from Northwich, reckons the home was lived in by tenants until 1963 when it belonged to a Middlewich farmer.

He says a law came into force that the farmer had to pay the Government if the property was occupied, so the tenants were asked to leave.

Nevertheless, Maxine Wrench, treasurer of Middlewich Clean Team, told the Guardian that her partner Andrew’s parents, George and Rose, also lived in the cottage in the late 60s.

George, who has now passed away, worked as a farm hand for the Smith family and lived in the left hand cottage (the property consisted of two homes).

The cottage appears to have been empty ever since but it has certainly caught the eye of people in mid Cheshire.

Helen Scott’s parents were in the process of buying the cottage in the early 70s but the contract was withdrawn at the last minute.

ICI, which is thought to have owned the cottage at that time, was willing to sell. The farmer agreed at first but changed his mind as he wanted the building to be used by farm workers.

Helen, from Northwich, who was 18 at the time, said: “Every time we go past that house, we think: ‘It’s such a shame that no one’s done anything with it’.

“It was a beautiful house 40 years ago. Ok, it needed updating but it could have been lovely and my mum and dad had the money to spend on it at that time.

“After that it started to fall apart – the windows, the roof – and now it’s just a shell.

“I pass it often and wonder what it would now look like had my parents purchased it.”

Then the cottage went up for auction in 1973. Guardian reader Dee Ackerley would have loved to have bought the property but thought the price would be out of her reach.

She added: “I would drive past a couple of times a week. I really liked the distinctive house.

“I would have loved to buy it and if the property had been for sale rather than auction, I would have pursued the matter further.

“I assumed the auction had gone ahead and someone bought it but have never seen any signs of occupancy in all this time.”

Fred Langley, whose brother Alan lives in Lindisfarne Close in Middlewich, may have been the last to try and buy the house, about 35 years ago.

He wanted the cottage as his marital home and to run his heavy goods business.

But after he was told he couldn’t live there unless he worked at the farm, he moved to Crewe instead.

To view the original article click here - Middlewich Guardian, Croxton Lane Derelict House

The Blue Baby Urban Legend (or Baby Blue)

I suppose this has to be one of the most capturing of Urban Legends for me. Even now at the pleasant age of 29 summers old, it’s a story of which had a great effect on me to some degree due to personal experiences of ‘playing’ around with this particular subject, something I will explain a little later on.

However, before I continue to babble on (something of which I fear I do when writing) I would like to make the point of my individual position and opinions on the unknown and paranormal world.

I would say that I’m a sceptic when it comes to all things weird and wonderful. I like to attempt to find a logical explanation for any experience. That does not mean to say that I pass things off as hocus pocus as some sceptics may, but merely a case of ‘I have to see it to believe it!’ Which is fair enough isn’t it? The amount of hours I’ve spent watching mock ‘paranormal investigation’ programmes such as ‘Most Haunted’ have only left me with feelings of betrayal and deceit. As if I am a ten year old naive minded sole who will believe anything I am told. I blame Derek Acorah for this. What a prick!

And that’s the problem. It’s these people who are that devoted and one track minded that attempt to show us this supernatural world, the same people who don’t want to hear a sceptic’s opinion as it would bring their world crashing down on them. It’s their need to believe that makes it just so unbelievable to me. How many times have we seen Derek supposedly ‘possessed’ by some lost sole on the show? Pretty much every episode I think, to the point where I can no longer watch it, mainly because I’m so embarrassed for him. Each to Their own I suppose!

I seem to have babbled. My bad! Now back to the point...

So have you heard of the Urban Legend of Blue Baby? Or Baby Blue as some might know it. It pretty much runs along the same lines of Bloody Mary, Candy Man, The Lady in White and quite possibly many others too.

The legend of The Blue Baby starts with a basic ritual or invocation process of which by simply following a few simple steps, allows you to invoke the spirit of the said Blue Baby. The basic protocol goes something like this;

To execute this legend, you need to go into the bathroom, close the door and shut off the lights. (This could possibly be enough to start the creepy factor, depending on how small your bathroom is and whether you are claustrophobic or not) The next step is to pretend that you are rocking a baby, while you chant the phrase “Blue Baby” thirteen times. They say a baby will appear and scratch you. When this happens you must drop it and run, because if you don’t a women will appear and scream loud enough to break the glass, “Give me back my baby!” If you are still found to be holding the baby, she will kill you! Spooky shit eh?

Now you only have to type this into Google to find quite a bit of jargon related to this, plus in some threads a lot of people stating their first hand experiences or, quite often, a friend of a friend who tried it and then died horrifically as a result. Mmmmmh?

Well guess what? I too tried this. A long time ago I might add back in... (Allow me to count back) ...back in 1994, which made me the tender age of just eleven years old. Only in my case, the invocation process differed somewhat from what I have read on the internet. Our process went as followed;

Go into the bathroom, close the door and dim the lights. Position yourself in front of the mirror and try to blur your eyes. Then repeat the name ‘Blue Baby’ five times in the mirror. (Doesn’t seem as complex as the above procedure does it?) It was then said that at night, when your safely tucked up in bed that over a process of time the ghost of the Blue Baby will visit you. Firstly, you will begin to see flashes of blue light in the darkness of your room. Then you will hear crying that will become unbearable to the point of which its ghost will then show itself to you and will eventually start to scratch your face! The only way to lift the curse was to smash all the mirrors in the house as to break the gateway to this awful realm of beings. (Sorry Mum, I’m gonna’ have to smash all your mirrors to make sure the Blue Baby doesn’t get me!)

Scared yet? I have to admit that just on hearing this story as it travelled around my school (Hartford High School in Cheshire to be exact) really gave me the shivers. And I suppose in turn, was what probably led me to ‘experiment’ with such a suicidal act that most believers would probably prefer to avoid.

My story goes like this:

One evening I was staying at friend’s house of whom lived just across the street from me called Dan, there was also another friend staying too, also named Dan. Now all three of us had a similar interest in spooky stuff whilst sharing stories and hunting for ghosts at allegedly haunted places around our town. I think we even made up some dodgy business cards at one point and knocked on neighbour’s doors offering our services as Ghostbusters! Those were the days.

On this particular night I told them about the rumour of Blue Baby that coursed through my school (probably that day) and that we should try it. Of course, you can imagine the excitement and fear that this invoked in us and sure enough we carried out the ritual in his bathroom. Immediately after, things were fine and no flashes or Baby’s were witnessed and I guess we probably forgot about it soon after.

But the story did not end there. If anything the story probably just lay dormant in my subconscious for the time being whilst we spent our next hours doing really important things like chasing cats and poking cow shit with sticks and then slamming rocks in the freshly laid cow turds whilst one of us was close enough to get covered in it during the process.

In-fact, it was later that night when we were home and clean and we had decided it was time to retire to bed when things took an unexpected turn. Dan (who’s house it was) told us that his big Brother was out for the night and that we could stay in his room instead, which of course, was in the Attic! (Cue spooky music)

There’s something particularly scary about attics. There always has been. Maybe it’s that one place in the house that is often locked away from us as children, where only the murmur of ghostly drafts and winds prevail and allows the boards to shake as if powered by some other-worldly force. Dan’s Brother’s attic room was pretty much just that, unlike the modern re-fits that most attic conversions have become. It was simply an attic with floor boards and simple ladders that led you into a vast space of complete darkness above.

I seem to have drawn the short straw to go up first and turn on the light as this was only accessible by means of climbing up the ladder and then reaching over to the wall to turn it on once inside. It was at this point where I can honestly say, on my life, I saw something which completely terrified me and still plays on my mind to this day (more so whilst writing this down to be honest)

I was about halfway up the ladder and my head must have been a good few feet away from the opening that lead into a cold pitch black void of space above when suddenly, I witnessed a quick burst of bright blue light that pulsed for a few seconds in the darkness above. I just remember freezing, motionless whilst still holding on to the ladder staring straight up. That horrible chill you get when you’re telling ghost stories seemed amplified within me. I was completely frozen still. And then just to confirm my horror, it happened again! The same burst of bright blue flashes like lightening above me. I could well have done a little shit in my pants there and then and would not have known it.

The next few moments were pretty simple.
I climbed down the ladders, informed Dan and Dan that I would not be staying that night, left the house quickly and ran across the street screaming and crying my eyes out in-front of my Mum whilst blabbering on about a Blue Baby and some bright blue flashes that I had just seen in the attic!

The Burning Question

So I suppose the question I still ask myself is; What the f*ck did I witness back then? What was that flashing of light that haunted me and still brings up feelings of wonder to this very day?

I honestly don’t have a solid answer to explain it. All I can do is propose explanations that may have contributed to this coincidental yet terrifying experience of mine.

There’s a little part of me deep inside that believes that I did indeed experience something ethereal that night. But as I have grown and now that my understanding of the world around me has evolved, I have to take a more sceptic stance on this ordeal. So let’s look at the facts:

Even before I carried out the invocation, the seed was well and truly planted in my subconscious from the offset with the stories and banter that surrounded the initial school rumour. My mind already had an interest in the supernatural so it wouldn’t be difficult to assume that my brain was already moulded in to those particular beliefs (as referred to earlier with the Acorah type folk) in the first place. I carried out the act with a couple of friends who also had similar interests to mine, thus reinforcing my beliefs, as would a cult or religious group of sorts. And just too really set the scene, the three of us would be spending the night in a spooky attic setting.

So could there have been enough resources there alone to allow my mind to conjure up such ideations to the point where I physically saw what I saw that night? The brain is a very powerful tool, a tool of which humanity is still yet to uncover its true potential.

Facts aside, there could have easily been a simple electrical fault in the attic as back then, loft conversions were pretty much a DIY thing so it wouldn’t be a far cry to say that what I saw was in-fact the flickering of a dodgy connection on one of the fittings or switches, that if experienced without all the spooky foreplay could have easily been seen as something less supernatural and mundane.

So maybe it can be explained by one of the above, or even both? And it’s those possibilities that bring me to think that I did not experience something supernatural that night and that the urban legend is just solely that; an urban legend!

So I think at this point I will leave you guys to figure it out or at least share my wonder as time is now pressing on and I’m sure I have kept you all for long enough. Plus, it’s nearly time for tea and I’m getting a little peckish. So if you’re feeling a little daring this evening, why not try it for yourself and experience the urban legend of The Blue Baby? (Cue end credits and spooky theme)