As soon as the Puritans became at all powerful, their iconoclastic
zeal naturally attacked Christmas, and the Scotchmen, such as Baillie,
Rutherford, Gillespie, and Henderson, in the Westminster Assembly of
Divines, tried in 1643 to get the English observance of Christmas
abolished--but they only succeeded so far as coming to a resolution
that whilst preaching on that day, withal to cry down the
superstition of that day. Next year they were happier in their
efforts, as is shortly told in Parliamentary History, December 19,
1644. The lords and commons having long since appointed a day for a
Fast and Humiliation, which was to be on the last Wednesday in every
Month, it happening to fall on Christmas day this month, the Assembly
of Divine sent to acquaint the lords with it: and, to avoid any
inconveniences that might be by some people keeping it as a Feast, and
others as a Fast, they desired that the Parliament would publish a
Declaration the next Lord's day in the Churches of London and
Westminster; that that day might be kept as it ought to be, that the
whole kingdom might have comfort thereby. The houses agreed to this
proposal, and directed the following Ordinance to be published; which
bore this title--

AN ORDINANCE FOR THE BETTER OBSERVATION OF THE FEAST OF THE NATIVITY
OF CHRIST.

Whereas some doubts have been raised whether the next Fast shall be
celebrated, because it falleth on the day which, heretofore, was
usually called the Feast of the Nativity of our Saviour; the lords and
commons do order and ordain that public notice be given, that the Fast
appointed to be kept on the last Wednesday in every month, ought to be
observed until it be otherwise ordered by both houses; and that this
day particularly is to be kept with the more solemn humiliation,
because it may call to remembrance our sins and the sins of our
forefathers, who have turned this Feast, pretending the memory of
Christ, into an extreme forgetfulness of him, by giving liberty to
carnal and sensual delights; being contrary to the life which Christ
himself led here upon earth, and to the spiritual life of Christ in
our souls; for the sanctifying and saving whereof Christ was pleased
both to take a human life, and to lay it down again.

The lords ordered That the Lord Mayor of London take care that this
Ordinance should be dispersed to all churches and chapels, within the
line of communication and the bills of mortality. Afterwards it was
made general through the kingdom; in consequence of which Christmas
day was no longer observed as a Festival, by law, till the
Restoration.

But the popular love of Christmas could not be done away with by
restrictive legislation, as the movers therein very well knew, teste
Lightfoot, who, in his Journal, says Some of our members were sent to
the houses to desire them to give an order that the next Fast day
might be solemnly kept, because the people will be ready to neglect
it, being Christmas day.

Nor was anything neglected to repress this Christ-tide, because its
keeping was inbred in the people, and they hated this sour puritanical
feeling, and the doing away with their accustomed festivities. Richard
Kentish told the House of Commons so in very plain language. Said he:
The people of England do hate to be reformed; so now, a prelatical
priest, with a superstitious service book, is more desired, and would
be better welcome to the generality of England, than the most learned,
laborious, conscientious preacher, whether Presbyterian or
Independent. These poor simple creatures are mad after superstitious
festivals, after unholy holidays.

The houses of Parliament baked their pie for themselves, and
deservedly had to eat it; for two red hot gospellers, Calamy and
Sedgewick, preached on the iniquity of keeping Christ-tide to the
Lords in Westminster Abbey; whilst in the contiguous Church of S.
Margaret, Thorowgood and Langl
Unknown "The Man" Tired - 17 years, 1 month, 19 days ago

The old storage sheds along the tracks were abandoned shortly after the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad was built, and it wasn't long before the poor folk of the area moved in. The sheds provided shelter - of a sort - although the winter wind still pierced through every crevice, and the small fireplaces that the poor constructed did little to keep the cold at bay.

A gentle, kindly woman named Jenny lived alone in one of the smaller sheds. She had fallen on hard times, and with no family to protect her, she was forced to find work where she could and take whatever shelter was available to someone with little money. Jenny never had enough to eat and in winter her tiny fire barely kept her alive during the cold months. Still, she kept her spirits up and tried to help other folks when they took sick or needed food, sometimes going without herself so that another could eat.

One cold evening in late autumn, Jenny sat shivering over her fire, drinking broth out of a wooden bowl, when a spark flew from the fire and lit her skirts on fire. Intent on filling her aching stomach, Jenny did not notice her flaming clothes until the fire had burnt through the heavy wool of her skirt and began to scorch her skin. Leaping up in terror, Jenny threw her broth over the licking flames but the fluid did nothing to douse the fire. In terror, Jenny fled from the shack and ran along the tracks, screaming for help as the flames engulfed her body.

The station was not far away, and instinctively Jenny made for it, hoping to find someone to aid her. Within moments, her body was a glowing inferno and Jenny was overwhelmed by pain. Her screams grew more horrible as her steps slowed. She staggered blindly onto the tracks just west of the station, a ball of fire that barely looked human. In her agony, she did not see the glowing headlight of the train rounding the curve, or hear the screech of the breaks as the engineer spotted her fire-eaten figure and tried to stop. A moment later, her terrible screams broke off as the train mowed her down.

Alerted by the whistle, the crew from the station came running as the engineer halted the train and ran back down the tracks toward poor dead Jenny, who was still burning. The men doused the fire and carried her body back to the station. She was given a pauper's funeral and buried in an unmarked grave in the local churchyard. Within a few days, another poverty-stricken family had moved into her shack, and Jenny was forgotten.

Forgotten that is, until a month later when a train rounding the bend west of the station was confronted by a screaming ball of fire. Too late to stop, the engineer plowed over the glowing figure before he could bring the train to a screeching halt. Leaping from the engine, he ran back down the tracks to search for a mangled, burning body, but there was nothing there. Shaken, he brought his train into the station and reported the incident to the stationmaster. After hearing his tale, the stationmaster remembered poor, dead Jenny and realized that her ghost had returned to haunt the tracks where she had died.

To this day, the phantom of Screaming Jenny still appears on the tracks on the anniversary of the day she died. Many an engineer has rounded the curve just west of the station and found himself face to face with the burning ghost of Screaming Jenny, as once more she makes her deadly run towards the Harpers Ferry station, seeking in vain for someone to save her.
Unknown "The Man" Tired - 17 years, 2 months, 2 days ago