THE hunt for a whale, a bullock with a wooden leg and a flash mob to support an abandoned wife are just a few of the strange occurrences which enlivened Victorian everyday life in Ulverston.

A whale is a pretty rare sight in Morecambe Bay - and you can understand why after reading how a 17ft visitor was treated 160 years ago.

Its fate was reported on October 1 in 1856 when fishermen spotted an "enormous" beast floundering in a sand hole as the tide retreated.

Today this would result in a social media appeal and hundreds of people on the beach to help the whale get back out to sea. Not in Victorian times.

The article said: "How to secure his prize was the first consideration and the man with a strong oaken net stake commenced battering the creature upon the head to kill it, but as might be expected without effect.

"Having a strong line in his possession, about the thickness of a cart rope, he rove it round the animal's tail, drove his stake into the sand to a considerable depth and tethered the creature to it.

"He hoped, when the tide rose, he should find all safe and have no difficulty in towing it in his boat to land."

However, when the tide returned, the whale broke free.

It was recorded: "There was a most exciting hunt and endeavour to capture by a reinforcement of three more persons."

Among the hunters was Tweedel, the guide over the sands and White, the landlord of the New Inn.

They caught up with the whale at a pool near Hammerside Hill.

It was recorded: "Then came the final struggle - boat hooks and other weapons likely to dispatch it were desperately wielded for a long time, without the desired and deadly effect.

"As a whale killing in Morecambe was not an everyday occurrence, the circumstance, as may be imagined, was one of great attraction and crowds hastened to the spot to view the prize.

"It was taken to Ulverston and exhibited in barn in the Gill, at the admission price of 3d and to continue as long as the carcass did not become offensive, when it would be boiled down for the oil."

Local expert opinion believed the whale to be a bottle-nosed or beaked variety but Ulverston surgeon, Mr Beardsley, claimed it was a rorqual - which could grow to 100ft in length.

A bullock with a wooden leg is a rare sight but there was one wandering the fields of Ulverston in 1848.

The Lancaster Gazette, for Saturday, November 11, noted: "Mr Warhurst, of Ulverston, slaughtered a bullock belonging to Mr Ormandy, of Old Hall Farm, near Ulverston, which had its leg broken about six months ago.

"It was amputated soon after, and replaced with a wodden one, which was attached to the stump by means of leather strapping.

"The beast was a short time after turned out to pasture amongst the other cattle, and walked on Monday to the slaughter house, a distance of nearly a mile."

If sentimetal feelings were in short supply for farm animals they were no better for men who helped to produce babies but didn't want to pay for them.

The same edition of the paper noted a case before the Ulverston magistrates.

It reported: "Thomas Collins, chimney-sweep, was brought up under a warrant of arrears of payment due to Mary Shepherd, for her illegitimate child.

"In default of payment committed to Preston House of Correction for two calendar months."

When marriages go wrong it is natural for people to pick sides but an errant husband doesn't usually expect to face an angry mob of women.

The Westmorland Gazette, on Saturday, July 20 in 1867, recorded the bizarre events at a cottage described as being near a small lake at the north-west end of Ulverston.

Living there was a railway contractor and a "robust and well-dressed" woman who caimed to be his wife.

The real wife, living in the Cambridgeshire Fens, was spun various lies to keep her away from Ulverston but eventually made the trip to North Lancashire to find out what was going on.

It was noted: "News of the wife's arrival at the station reached her husband's ears and by the time the wife arrived there, the doors, back and front, were securely fastened and the weary woman knocked for a long time in vain.

"Meanwhile, the real state of the case began to be suspected , suspicion induced inquiries, and the answers given brought all the married women in the street from their houses.

"It was a miscellaneous congregation of persons of all ages and both sexes - all excited, indignant and noisy - sympathising with the deserted wife and denouncing the cruel husband.

"After being in front of the house for two hours without being able to get the door open, the agitated crowd threatened to make forcible entry if the wife were not admitted.

"Upon some signs of this threat being carried into execution, the door was opened and the wife entered the house, but accompanied by a strong bodyguard of wives determined to permit no violence."

The "other woman" was sent packing: "Her departure was facilitated by an unceremonious turning out into the street."

Drinking and gambling were popular leisure activities in Ulverston - the first was usually legal but the second could send you to court.

The Derby Daily Telegraph, on Friday, October 6 in 1893 recorded a £5 fine for Tom Ray, the former champion pole leaper and then landlord of the Railway Hotel at Ulverston, for allowing gambling.

Three police constables looked through the pub window to see five men playing a game called penny nap from 2am to 2.45am.

One of the players, brought to the Ulverston court as a witness from Pontefract in Yorkshire, admitted playing but could remember little about it after drinking 16 small whiskies.