AFTER a couple of weeks of the column veering towards the melancholy, I thought I would lighten the mood with one of my favourite subjects – amusing Dales place names.

But then disaster struck – literally, sort of. It started well. Crackpot is an old favourite. Whaw and nearby High Faggergill are unusual, if only slightly amusing.

Brackenbottom, Hubberholme and Yockenthwaite are three great names to say out loud. Likewise Swineside and nearby Arkleside. For me, Horsehouse conjures images of a horse doing the dishes. Ravenseat sounds like somewhere in Lord of the Rings. Satron sounds like someone in Lord of the Rings.

And then we come to Booze.

What a fabulous place name that made the nation chuckle a few years ago when the Royal Mail refused to deliver because of the condition of the steep road up to the tiny hamlet.

But where did the name come from? Surely nothing to do with alcohol. As usual, the Darlington & Stockton archives will have the answer.

Apparently, it comes from the Old English word “bowehouse” meaning “house by the curve”.

But what’s this just below the rather dull explanation?

Bloomin’ eck.

Apparently in the 18th century, 24 men and two pit ponies were killed when Arkengarthdale miners blasted into an underground lake and the mine flooded.

Known as the Waterblast Vein Incident, the disaster reportedly claimed the lives of 18 Booze residents.

In a village which then had around 40 houses, the misery of mothers, widows and children must have been unfathomable.

The account in the D&S was taken from a book called Swaledale: Portrait of a North Yorkshire Mining Community by John Hardy.

Mr Hardy wrote that Swaledale miners worked very hard, but also played hard and had a penchant for using dynamite recklessly, with stories of the porch at the Red Lion at Langthwaite being blown off several times.

The historian was told the story of the Booze mine tragedy by former miner Fremmie Hutchinson.

Interestingly, the late Mr Hutchinson was once the landlord of the Tan Hill Inn when a police raid during a lock-in outside licensing hours netted 64 drinkers.

I like this story for several reasons, not least because the specific number of illegal drinkers suggests someone, presumably the bobbie, had to get everyone standing still so he could count them.