Bury /ˈbɛrɪ/ is a town in Greater Manchester, England. It lies on the River Irwell, 5.5 miles (8.9 km) east of Bolton, 5.9 miles (9.5 km) west-southwest of Rochdale, and 7.9 miles (12.7 km) north-northwest of the city of Manchester. Bury is surrounded by several smaller settlements, which together form the Metropolitan Borough of Bury, with Bury as the largest settlement and administrative centre.
Historically a part of Lancashire, Bury emerged during the Industrial Revolution as a mill town centred on textile manufacture.
Bury is regionally notable for its open-air market - Bury Market - and its popularity has been increased since the introduction of the Manchester Metrolink tram system, which terminates in the town. The market is known for its supply of a local traditional dish - black pudding, served hot or cold and can be eaten either as a takeaway snack, or more commonly as an accompaniment or main ingredient of a meal starter or main course.
One of Bury's most notable residents was Sir Robert Peel, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and founder of the Metropolitan Police Service. A monument to Peel is outside Bury parish church and another, the austere Peel Monument, stands on a hill overlooking the locality.
Read more about Bury: Governance, Geography, Demography, Landmarks, Transport, Education, Sport, Notable People, Twin Towns
Famous quotes containing the word bury:
“Illustrious examples engross, prejudice, and intimidate. They engross our attention, and so prevent a due inspection of ourselves; they prejudice our judgment in favour of their abilities, and so lessen the sense of our own; and they intimidate us with the splendour of their renown, and thus under diffidence bury our strength.”
—Edward Young (1683–1765)
“It is comforting when one has a sorrow to lie in the warmth of one’s bed and there, abandoning all effort and all resistance, to bury even one’s head under the cover, giving one’s self up to it completely, moaning like branches in the autumn wind. But there is still a better bed, full of divine odors. It is our sweet, our profound, our impenetrable friendship.”
—Marcel Proust (1871–1922)
““Now bury your bird,” the wind it bawled,
“And bury him down and down
Who had to put his trust in one
So light-eyed and so brown....””
—Gwendolyn Brooks (b. 1917)