The biography of an enigmatic Victorian pioneer. The first critical appraisal of this sporting legend and antiquary, using his own archives and writings. Important glimpses of everyday Victorian life. Suitable for those with interests in sport, local history, genealogy and record editing. Walter Rye was a London solicitor until he retired to Norwich, but it was three spare-time passions that earned him his place in the Dictionary of National Biography: physical exercise, record-searching, and a devotion to his ancestral county of Norfolk. His love of the outdoors was unbounded: athlete, cyclist, sailor and archer, keen amateur gardener and naturalist. Despite this, mortal illness seemed to stalk him, and yet he lived well into his eighties. In A Passion for Records, Rye’s prolific writings as author, columnist and correspondent, replete with witty put-downs, offer many laugh-out-loud moments. His antiquarian writings invite more serious attention, after cautionary tales about his editorial techniques.

Watch out for a ghostly ship and its spectral crew off the coast of Cornwall Listen for the unearthly tread and rustling silk dress of Darlington's Lady Jarratt Shiver at the malevolent apparition of 50 Berkeley Square that no-one survives seeing Beware the black dog of Shap Fell: a sighting warns of fatal accidents England's past echoes with stories of unquiet spirits and hauntings, of headless highwaymen and grey ladies, indelible bloodstains and ghastly premonitions. Here, county by county, are the nation's most fascinating supernatural tales and bone-chilling legends: from a ghostly army marching across Cumbria to the vanishing hitchhiker of Bluebell Hill, from the gruesome Man-Monkey of Shropshire to the phantom congregation who gather for a 'Sermon of the Dead' ...

This innovative history of popular magical mentalities in nineteenth-century England explores the dynamic ways in which the magical imagination helped people to adjust to urban life. Previous studies of modern popular magical practices and supernatural beliefs have largely neglected the urban experience. Karl Bell, however, shows that the magical imagination was a key cultural resource which granted an empowering sense of plebeian agency in the nineteenth-century urban environment. Rather than portraying magical beliefs and practices as a mere enclave of anachronistic 'tradition' and the fantastical as simply an escapist refuge from the real, he reveals magic's adaptive and transformative qualities and the ways in which it helped ordinary people navigate, adapt to and resist aspects of modern urbanization. Drawing on perspectives from cultural anthropology, sociology, folklore and urban studies, this is a major contribution to our understanding of modern popular magic and the lived experience of modernization and urbanization.