It’s evening, cold and dark but that should come as no surprise, it’s mid December. Turn the ignition, hope the car warms up quickly, half hour drive. 

But that’s when I stopped thinking about the cold for when I got to town and felt the buzz my heart was warmed and smiles lit as a mischievous coterie hit the cobbled streets of Chester.

For this is a city steeped in history, and quite rightly loves to remind its townsfolk and visitors of its tradition, sometimes with a light hearted twist. Founded as a walled city and garrison of the Romans, their occupation dating to 47/48 AD, it served also as fortified defence against the Viking raids and testament to the border feuds and battles between the English and Welsh. Suffice to say, it has a colourful past.

Colourful indeed, but back in the 1400s, the Winter Watch was more than just a pageant. The City Watch, equivalent to a police force, would patrol the streets of this walled city to safeguard its security. Only when complete could the keys of the various gates be handed over and people breathe easy. Well, actually at Christmas time, rather more was at stake. The ceremony would herald the start of the Christmas banquet and celebrations.

Today’s procession was recreated by the City Council in the 1990s as part of a fun build up to Christmas and whilst it is essentially pagan, a camel and it’s retinue offer a humorous nod to the Crusades and a delightfully portrayed head of John the Baptist adorns the serving plate of the chef who leads the Victorian feast.

The characters before and aft, however, are no less lively or colourful. The Lord of Misrule, released for the evening, dances and struts ahead of the fabulous drum beats of the Karamba Samba band, dressed as ghosts and ghouls.

Unlike the larger Midsummer March, held during daylight hours in more clement weathers, these paraders consist mostly of adults but a few children do make up the throng of Devilish characters, a bright orange glow added to the proceedings.

Darker in colour than the Devils, but perhaps less so in character, are the Ravens associated with Chester’s Cathedral. Some of which, along with other giants on display, engage playfully with the crowd. A few shrieks of delight could be heard as the kids were drawn into the revelry but one particular dog was not impressed with the giant skeletons, such that barking didn’t suffice, and a few howls were thrown out for good measure.

The rest of the participants comprised the Dragon, symbolic of bordering neighbours, the Tree of Life, Angels and Jack Frost, who strode big and bold behind the Ice Queens. Oh, but I mustn’t forget the small band of Dixie playing skeletons, adding a musical note to the tail end of the procession. So cool.

That was the cast on the first night’s feast for the eyes but the following Tuesday the Roman Deva Victrix 20th Legion gave a taste of the ancient Saturnalia, as they joined the parade, albeit briefly. Alas, we saw less of this torch bearing troop, for they parted ways with the rest of the ensemble and headed off down more distant streets, Emperor Domitian proclaiming, at end of their march, that their rule was not over and they had taken back the city, after, it must be said, a considerable number of centuries.

Oblivious to said military coup, the rest marched back up towards the city centre, back to the starting point of the Town Hall. Riotous and resplendent were the characters that offered me and others a witty and entertaining look at some of the more memorable aspects of Chester’s history. The cold banished for a time, these were nights to relish and remember in the build up to festivities.