The Story of the Rufford Spud: Bonus Episode
Bonus Feature: Shipwrecks, Spuds & The Butter Bowl Derby
(A tale with some facts, some folklore, some celebration—and a fair bit of cheek)
In the world of West Lancashire potatoes, not everything is dug up from the ground…………….some things are rooted in memory, myth, and mischief. This bonus feature takes us beyond Rufford’s furrows to Churchtown, Crossens, and even that spud-slinging cricket pitch in Mawdesley. You’ll find truth here, certainly—but also tales, tradition, and a wink or two. Let’s peel it all back…
1565–1576: The Churchtown Shipwreck and the Foster-Fatherland of the Spud
c.1565
Local legend has it that a Spanish trading ship, loaded with sugar and potatoes, ran aground off Churchtown. Villagers gathered the strange knobbly roots and planted them in the rich black soil. A spot near the Sugar Houses still carries the echo of that tale.
1575
A guidebook from the Victorian era claims North Meols as:
“The foster-fatherland of the potato in England.”
1576
Some say Rufford and Crosby followed suit with their own early plantings. All unproven, but full of character.
Mid 1850’s: Two Henry’s might have been onto a winner
While legends drifted on the wind, one man turned spuds into a staple: Henry Ashcroft (Press Clipping from 1911). A Rufford farmer and innovator, his name appears in clippings and family records. No drama, no shipwreck—just good soil, smart methods, and a legacy of local pride. Then there was Henry Alty heading to Blackburn market with his new potatoes.
1970s–Present: From Crossens to Claridge’s
Meanwhile in Crossens, a young Marcus Wareing learned the potato trade from his dad, a local merchant. Now a Michelin-starred chef, Marcus credits West Lancashire soil—and the family business—with shaping his palate.
Today, from buttered Ruffords to truffle crisps, the spud’s journey is still being plated.
Modern-Day Mayhem: Two Heskeths, One Eyeful, and a Mystery Mash
Connections between the Churchtown and Rufford Potato stories; starting with the pubs:
Hesketh Arms, Churchtown
Lovely pub. Great pint. Vicious Parking Eye camera. Visitors to the nearby Botanic Gardens have been known to leave with horticultural joy… and a £60 fine.
Hesketh Arms, Rufford
A proud local landmark—oddly slow to serve Rufford New Potatoes. After years of neglect, they now feature on Wednesday night specials, though nobody will confirm their origin. One barmaid famously said:
“We just get what comes in, love.”
“The Rufforth Run & The Noble Order of the Top Prata” - a new development with some thoughts about a comic cricket match
More recently in the month of May villagers are encouraged to parade from the Red Lion, Mawdesley to Fiddler’s Farm, Rufford: in a rolling convoy of tractors, buggies, and bad suspension. The mission? Retrieve the first Ruffords of the season.
Back at the pub, amid May Queens and pork pies, a sacred text is read aloud:
The Ode to the Rufford
(Excerpt)
Oh noble tuber, plucked from peat,
With golden skin and earthy sweet…
[See full ode in ceremony book or on tea towels behind the bar]
Top Prata Challenge
He or she who consumes the most new potatoes is knighted Top Prata, name inscribed on the Rufforth Trophy beside last year’s fork.
It is a moment of pride. A bit buttery. Occasionally, live-streamed!
But surely there is village rivalry?
Let’s imagine the rivalry could be on the cricket pitch: here’s a comic sketch of what might be
The Butter Bowl Derby: Rufford vs Mawdesley (with a hint of scandal)
As if things weren’t lively enough, the cricket season opens with tension: Rufford vs Mawdesley in the annual Mash-Up Derby—a grudge match now elevated by rumours that:
Fiddler’s Crisps (of Rufford) are sponsoring a Mawdesley-based event,
Mawdesley are poaching players from Burscough, and
Rufford’s wicketkeeper may or may not be boycotting Mawdesley pubs
When asked about the sponsorship shift, one Rufford supporter said:
“They may have the pitch. But we’ve got the potatoes.”
So where does that leave us?
With some facts.
Some folklore.
A lot of butter.
And one village still arguing over whether a shipwreck or a Wednesday night menu gave us the perfect potato.
There are more facts and tales to come in Episode 2.
Long live the Rufford Spud.
Excellent read again Mark.