Location: Yorkshire Street, Wall of History Garden
Bacup Museum, known locally as “The Nat”, is a volunteer-run natural history and heritage museum on Yorkshire Street in Bacup, Lancashire. It’s one of the town’s quiet cultural gems, offering an unpolished but deeply authentic insight into Bacup’s past.
The museum houses a fascinating mix of collections, including local industrial history, photographs, documents, and an impressive natural history archive with fossils and specimens, some of which are among the oldest recorded in Lancashire. It reflects Bacup’s role in the Industrial Revolution, its social history, and the landscape that shaped the town.
More than just a static museum, The Nat is a working community space. It hosts talks, exhibitions and research activity, and provides resources for people exploring local or family history. Run by passionate volunteers, it’s valued as much for the knowledge and stories of the people behind it as for the exhibits themselves.
In short, The Nat is a place to understand real Bacup — its people, its industry and its environment — rooted firmly in local pride and community spirit rather than polished tourism.
Yorkshire Street, Wall of History Garden
This mosaic celebrates Bacup’s long-standing community spirit and local identity. It reflects the everyday life, humour and resilience of the town and the people who have shaped it. Positioned at the Wall of History Garden, it acts as an informal gateway into Bacup’s wider story.
When I Get Home
Chris Elliott 2018
(Spoken) Dear Mum and dad and all at number twelve.
When I get home
The mayor and the corporation
Will be waiting there for me
Ill get a blooming medal
And they’ll ask me back for tea
Then present me with the keys
So we can live at Stubbylee
When I get home
When I get home
Mr Lord will send a message
Inviting me to call
He has a proposition
So I’ll listen up and all (but I’ll tell him)
Its seat on the board old lad
Or it’s nothing else at all
When I get home
When I get home the coop and the butcher
Will offer credit to me Ma
I’ll sell me old boneshaker
And I’ll drive a motorcar
No more ruddy woodbines
Just the very best cigar
When I get home
No more bully beef or ticklers jam
No more cooks who couldn’t give a damn
No more hard tack, mouldy cheese
Rats and mice and lice and fleas
And no more naughty French disease
When I get home
When I get home
All the pubs in Bacup
Will open their front door
I’ll sup ale in public houses
Where I’ve never supped before
And when I’ve supped me last pint
They’ll say ‘would you like one more?’
When I get home
When I get home
All the girls from Irwell Mill
Will want to take my arm
They know and east Lancashire
Will keep them safe from harm,
And perhaps later in the evening
Well take a stroll up Jeffry’s barn
When I get home
When I get home
I’ll sit down on the tippler when I want to take me ease
I’ll have use of proper paper
Not gun cotton or leaves
And I can read the Bacup Times
With it perched on me knees
When I get home
(Spoken) ‘Hold on a bit’
‘Oh heck it’s the head prefect’
‘Well you know what they say’
‘You can always tell a grammar school chap but you can’t tell him owt’
Little Mr grammar school
Sticks his pips around the door
And tells us it’s time to go
Where we’ve never been before
So we’ll take stroll from our boggart hole
And be back in time for tea
So I’ll finish off this letter
(Spoken) ‘ And send love to all of thee…
And I’ll see thee soon’
When I get home.
Up before the bench
Chris Elliott 2018
I first check out me belts and braces
So I’m not inconvenienced in any chases
I checks me whistle I checks me watch
I checks me truncheon I check the lot
Now I’m as smart as any bobby that you’ll ever see
If her majesty popped by she could rely on me
So I’m ready for me beat and ready for all of thee
I’ll be up before the bench in the morning.
With me notebook at and me pencil
I shall carefully take down
Details of the outrage that occurred at the crown
And when I get the name of home
That knocked the landlord down
He’ll be up before the bench in the morning
Whilst passing by the angel
It was drawn to my attention
That drinking after hours was taking place
As I entered the public house
It fell as quiet as a mouse
They’ll be up before the bench in the morning
At the rear of Fossets Mill
Wi’ a coffin in the back
Stood old Stansfields hearse
Had there been an accident
Had thee been a death
I opended up the coffin lid
And took a deep breath
It were full rolls cloth
There were no room left
He’ll be up before the bench in the morning
In the course of my duties
It was necessary to call, in at the Blacksmiths Arms
A complaint has been received
It were precise and it were clear
That the landlord of the Blacksmiths had watered down the beer
But after testing out the evidence….all became clear
No need for the bench in the morning
I spied Alderman Trickett crossing the road
Swaying from side to side
As it had just struck two
Id a little hunch
That Alderman Trickett
Had had a heavy lunch
Six pints of Grimshaws and a large rum punch
He’ll be up before his own bench….in the morning
Bits and Pieces
Chris Elliott 2018
My Alf lost some fingers
My Johnny lost an arm
My Wilf lost and ear
But it hasn’t done him any harm
My Albert lost an eye in the last great attack
Bugger the King and country
We want our lads back
Association football will now recommence
Chris Elliott 2018
I’ll not play centre forward
And I’ll not run down the wing
And a cripple for a goalie
Is a bloody useless thing
I could lean against the goal posts
But I couldn’t stop the ball
A one legged footballer
Is no damn use at all
Where
Chris Elliott 2018
Where’s my Bob?
I hope he’s safe
Where’s my Bob?
I hope he got the muffler and the socks
Where’s my Bob?
I hope he’s well
Where’s my Bob?
I hope he got my letter and the ciggies
Where’s my Bob, Jesus?
I want him home
Out dancing
Chris Elliott 2018
I want him to waltz
I want him to dance
I want him to be like he were before France
Foxtrot or quickstep
I don’t really care
But how can you dance, with a lad in a chair?
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When I Get Home
