Today was an eerie spooky day! After a quaint English breakfast, we left as a group to Keswick. Most of us slept well on the coach as we headed to Haworth. The windy country roads were stationed on hills looking down a beautiful country valley. Short stone walls lined the countryside replaced the normal hedge land barriers. The roads wandered past small blocked off pastors of sheep, who stared at us in bewilderment as our coach driver, Paul, wonderfully sneaked past incoming cars on the roads that were definitely made for only one car at a time.

On our way to Haworth, we passed through the bustling industrial town of Keighley. I immediately could understand the concerns Elizabeth Gaskell raised in her biography about the town industrializing, and in the process becoming a saddening dreary color. In fact, one could see all the 1900 stone houses were a dismal color and could make anyone depressed after a short time.

Matching the dreary landscape of Keighley was the cloudy grey sky that hovered above us since we first entered the coach. And although it was raining as we arrived in Haworth, we ventured out of the coach and headed to the graveyard where the Bronte’s were supposed to be buried. The pathway to the graveyard took us through a wooded area that because of the season (winter) made the atmosphere cold damp and a little creepy, the perfect tone before entering a graveyard. Once at the graveyard, my first thoughts were on how old fashioned and secluded it looked which only added to the eeriness of the adventure. I was disappointed to learn however, that the Bronte’s were in fact buried under the chapel and not the graveyard we were wandering through. It was still fun, nonetheless to wander through an old Victorian graveyard. After exploring the graveyard for not more than 10 minutes mother nature wanted to make herself heard once more and the ran came tumbling down. Adam and I hurriedly ventured down the stone walkway into town, immediately seeking shelter by entering the red bricked building ahead of us entitled, Emma’s Eating Parlor. We were soon joined by the remainder of the class and most ordered hot baked sandwiches and tea. As the rain slowed the class left a few at a time and made their way back to the coach. As I left, I realized the rain actually helped with the experience of creating a creepy graveyard experience.

Haworth-Cemetery

From Haworth we traveled by coach on the winding country roads the two and half hours to Rievaulx Abbey. As we approached the abbey, Katy broke us into groups of two and assigned each group a section of the abbey to explore pretending we were either a worker or a monk. We were told to be prepared to report on our experience and what life would have been like in that part of the Abbey. I learned as we took the self guided tour that the first part of the abbey was constructed in 1132 and was the first and largest Cistercian order church in England. Although, it was expanded several times over the centuries, the vast size and stunning gothic architecture seen by remaining arched columns was simply breathtaking. One had to wonder how on earth a small group of monks (around 100) managed to get the building supplies and food for all the workers needed to build this massive structure to such a secluded area.

Rievaulx Abbey

I was partnered with Colleen and assigned the Cloister, the courtyard that most of the major sections and rooms of the Abbey opened up into. It was very exhilarating to climb over some of the remaining ruins of the scriptorium, picturing the monks writing on parchments for long hours into the night. It became a little creepy as we walked through the graves in the ground of the main church. It was disturbing when thought of the fact that one was walking through a shrine to all those who died working to build and led a disciplined and dedicated life in the Abbey. The Abbey must have been quite a site in her day, but since it has been pillaged and seized during the reformation (because it was related to Catholicism) and deteriorated from lack of use of the centuries.

The class left the Abbey and began the long haul (or so it seemed, in reality it was only 30 minutes) to the medieval city of York. On the way to York, each group made the dangerous walk to the front of the coach as it went up and down the winding hills, to make their report. The presentations were very informative and many of them were in the form of a skit and quite humorous. One presentation in particular I thought was quite interesting, the infirmary. I found it odd that the sick were allowed to rest near one of the only existing fires and given herbs; similar to the old antage of rest and plenty of fluids we use today.

Once in York, we quickly checked in to the hotel and put our bags into our rooms, hurrying immediately afterwards downstairs to the dining room for dinner. We all received the same food for dinner, chunky vegetable soup and chicken with mushroom gravy, and at least in my opinion was very scrumptious. Once dinner had ended, 17 of us headed to the entrance of York Minster to go on the much acclaimed guided Ghost Tour of York. Our guide stood out against the back drop of the cathedral and definitely seemed to complete the Victorian imagery I was guessing he was going for with his turn of the century black trench coat, complete with the black top hat and cane (with a dragon on top), who he called Jessica. All in all, I’d say he had the Jack the Ripper mote look down. The mood was indeed as eerie as one would hope, as our guide took us down dark allies and the stories did have a dark theme to them (i.e. bishop refuting god and getting hit by lightning; a headless apparition of the executed lord Northumberland wandering the streets looking for his head). However, I was expecting the stories to be of a spooky nature and instead found them to be quite of a comical nature with his stories laced with puns and plays on words (example: He pointed to a house with red lights and proclaimed that that was all that was left of the red light district. Also During the story of the headless Northumberland he made jokes such as “he didn’t have his heard in it”). Although not the scariest, the intertwined humor and entertaining costume of our guide along with the dark allies created a most enjoyable experience. Following the conclusion of the tour our group was pretty exhausted and made our way back to our hotel, immediately going to bed upon arrival.

Ghost Tour of York

Stephen Walter

January 31,2006