Fred Tinsley, the General Manager of Morpeth Playhouse, placed an article in the Herald on 27 December 1918, probably to help to protect his financial interests: 

The Playhouse is quite safe. The house is thoroughly cleaned daily by special staff, disinfectants are used freely. The air is kept constantly moving by a system of powerful electrically driven fans. Every precaution is taken against the spread of the infection so you are quite safe in attending the cinema. 

Unlike today there was no blanket closure of cinemas and theatres during the 1918 pandemic. Local authorities could issue their own restrictions, but many cinemas (like Ashington Miners’ Theatre, shown below) could stay open. In practice, many were hard hit.

Dr Hudson, Medical Officer of Health for Bedlington Urban District Council reported in the Morpeth Herald on 20 December 1918: 

There was a high death rate due to influenza. There were 70 deaths in the district, 35 were from the flu and 9 from pneumonia. The most common age group for deaths was between 15 and 35 years of age due to them frequenting places of amusement. Infants and persons in adult life appeared to be less susceptible or suffered milder degrees of the flu. The closure of schools has accounted for the smaller death rate amongst children.

The opening up of the Nightingale Hospitals today recalls something similar in Hexham during the first bout of influenza. On 29 June 1918 the Morpeth Herald stated that Hexham had a few cases in the town, but the amount of victims was dramatically increased with the advent of the Durham Cadet Corps. So many of these youths were stricken that a temporary hospital had to be opened to cope with the numbers.  

“Well, men I’ve got some good news for you… Oh you mean our rifles have come? … No, but the ammunition has!”

On this day, 14 May 1940,  Anthony Eden, Secretary of State for War addressed the nation on the formation of the Local Defence Volunteers [LDV],  later called the Home Guard.  They wanted men aged between 17 and 65 who were not already engaged in military service to enlist. They were to assist in the defence of the county in case of an enemy invasion.

“You will not been paid, but you will get a uniform and will be armed. In order to volunteer you need to give your name and address to your local police station”.  As a big fan of ‘Dads Army’ I can visualise them all squashed in the police station and Mr Mainwaring taking control!

The Blyth News and Ashington Post wrote on 23 May 1940, that the local police stations had been busy and the latest figures of applications were:- 

Blyth – 1000

Ashington – 1350

Bedlington – 1080

Seaton Delaval – 500

Newbiggin – 400

Although, there was a good number of applicants under the age of 20, most were ex-servicemen and many were Boer War veterans like Corporal Jones from the show. Several men were over the age limit of 65, but were attesting they were 64! That reminds me of the episode when Jones, Frazer and Godfrey dye their hair and enrich their skin, Sergeant Wilson wears  a “gentleman’s abdominal support” even  Captain Mainwaring dons a toupee  to look young. At the end, it starts to rain and the hair dye and make up begin to run down their faces!

The Newcastle Journal reported on 16 May that the first recruit to sign up in Berwick was a 17-year-old wagon driver. On 24 May, an announcement of the Officers in charge of the Berwick Police District was released. Captain the Honourable Claude Lambton was the Group Commander, his second-in-command was Colonel The Honourable H.E. Joicey and there were 600 – 700 volunteers.

We also hold the diaries of Major R. Miller, Company Commander of Alnwick Home Guard [Ref NRO 1110] and these are like reading episodes of Dad’s Army. Mention is made of making Molotoff cocktails [improvised petrol bombs], setting up road blocks, bayonet fighting, Home Guard cars, training exercises and acting as German paratroopers. The only thing missing is the Novelty Rock Emporium! 

For generations the people occupying the area around Hedley on the Hill, near Stocksfield in Northumberland, reported being tormented by a mischievous “bogie”, or sprite. The Kow apparently took delight in frightening people by shapeshifting and creating chaos before laughing and retreating. 

In the fairy tale collected by Australian folklorist Joseph Jacobs, the Kow toys with an old woman who finds a pot of gold by the side of the road. Each time the woman looks into the pot its contents have changed, first from gold to silver, then to iron, and finally to a rock. The woman, of a positive persuasion, is not upset, reasoning that silver is less likely to be stolen, iron is easier to sell and a rock will make a good doorstop.  When the Kow reveals itself and trots away laughing the woman reflects on her luck at seeing such a spectacle.

Other recorded tales make the Kow seem less whimsical and more frightening. In a variation of the fairy tale the Kow disguises itself as a pile of kindling, becoming heavier and heavier once collected by the old woman Goody Blake. When Goody sets the bundle down it springs to life and shuffles along the road after her, laughing and dancing before vanishing. 

The Kow would impersonate lovers, beckoning men to secluded spots before giving chase or imitating boyfriends’ voices to lure ladies outdoors so that it could interfere with objects in the home or workplace while its sport was distracted.

While never playing with recently bereaved people the Kow was seemingly fond of attending births, mocking expectant mothers in labour pain and needing to be chased from the dwelling. One midwife’s messenger was a regular target, the Kow enjoying spooking his horse. 

The entity often appeared in animal form and this is presumably why it became known as the “Kow”. It would adopt the form of a milkmaid’s favourite cow and lead her on a chase around the fields, allow itself to be caught and then thrashing and kicking throughout milking before upsetting the bucket and running away.

The Kow is not the only such apparition in Northumberland. Various “Brags” have been written about although they were usually less considerate of mourners and their pranks sometimes bordered on the macabre.