The Lady Brigante loves nothing more than shocking unsuspecting folk with the tale that she was abandoned at birth by gypsies and raised en famille with kindly mice in the crypt of an old church.
Alas! The truth is altogether more unremarkable for although blessed with an illustrious and extensive lineage – Lady B was in truth raised in genteel affluence in the shadow of the ceremonial stone gatehouse of Micklegate in the ancient City of York.
A dreamer from birth with a taste for history and the irresistible urge to create – by the light of day, she is usually to be found huddled creating away within the stone walls of a cluttered atelier with shelves of weird creatures, baskets of sumptuous silks and old lace perched upon an antique dresser; tubs of delightfully named paints, the odd pot of glue, stacks of parchment paper, exotic woods and other strange looking implements.
However, as the sun falls on another day and with her messy apron discarded – Lady B continues in her quest to wake the dead.
For if she’s not musing upon the discovery of a mysterious bundle of long-forgotten ephemera, poring over the details of a tatty burial record or recording her exciting discovery of an elusive ancestor in an old notebook – she will be leading the unsuspecting through the snickelways and secret passageways of York while sharing the tales of the illustrious, miscreants, artists, misfits and those ordinary folk who have ALL been lost to history – until now!
Therefore, the Lady Brigante most cordially invites curious minds and those of a discerning spirit to cross the threshold and step inside a twilight world rife with mysterious happenstance and feats of every egregious kind.
And, although it has long been rumoured that the very name of Brigante is of notorious origin signifying rascals and bandits and that our Lady B herself shares the blood-line of a famous outlaw – it is also a truth universally acknowledged that this familial connection has offended the more delicate sensibilities of the Brigante clan in the years following and as such we must speak of it no more.