Haworth Parsonage

Andrew, our guide, explained not only about the personalities and physical surroundings but about the appalling conditions in the village below—contaminated water, constant cholera. He said 45.000 people are estimated to have been buried in the church yard.

Last time we were at Haworth was cold, dark, and foggy—great for ghosts—but this time was breezy, sunny, lovely, not at all ghostly. The ravens were calling (or rooks or crows), through the tall old trees, above the mossy gravestones—but the atmosphere remained determinedly cheerful. Whereas in previous visits I thought of the Brontes as oppressed and poor, they had much better lives up on top at the parsonage, with access to the clean air of the moor, than did those down in the village. No wonder they turned away from the squalor to their own Gondal world and their own society. (2003)