York Minster

Students first see the cathedral:

The Screen:

The heart window:

The choir rehearses:

We visited our seventh cathedral, York Minster, which was far enough north from the enthusiasts of the Dissolution and the Reformation that much of its stained glass survived. Original Gothic glass is geometric, non-representational, in mostly greens and grays--I can't figure out how the glass matches the high stone buildings themselves, and the meek, stilted poses of the statues. My favorite glass is probably the Victorian, which tells you how hopelessly uncool I am. Modern glass is usually very striking. There's quite a bit done since the German bombing, and as people are less religious in general there's less objection to "high church" stained glass in the Anglican buildings. Christopher [age four] liked York Minster because there was a spiral staircase in a tower (his main requirement for castles and cathedrals) and we could look off the top. (1997)

Fountains Abbey

We saw the ruins of Fountains Abbey, which didn't survive the Dissolution (of the monasteries). The wrecked churches are nearly as beautiful as the ones still flourishing, with grass instead of paving for the floor, doves' murmurs instead of organ music, and sky instead of vaulted roof. The Abbey lands were taken over by the Crown and turned into a deer park. We walked past the little red deer grazing beneath huge widely-spaced black-limbed trees, which were just coming into leaf. Fur hung like dun-colored moss from the deers’ new antlers. (1997)

Moor and Graveyard

These photos from 2001 seem more accurate to the atmosphere of the stories:

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)

Dale to Moor

Gargraves, Wet and Dry

Class:

Nap:

Another year, rainy and cold, hot chocolate at the Dalesman:
Architecture lesson at Gargrave Church:

Wycoller Manor (2005)

Sara had a bad knee today, so she rode with me in the luggage van to see Wycoller Manor, a ruined house which was supposedly the inspiration for Ferndean. If it was a ruin in her era, it must also have been the inspiration for the end of Thornfield Hall, Mr. Rochester’s original house, a burned and blackened shell. I thought I could imagine this hall burned and broken, but it was quite a stretch on a bright sunny morning.

The Pennine Way to Earby

Stretching after the walk:

And planning the walk to Haworth, across the moors:

The Yorkshire Dales

Malham is a pretty little village in the Dales where we stay only one night before our first long trek over the Pennine Way in Yorkshire. My own literary association to this area is the James Herriot veterinarian series beginning with "All Creatures Great and Small."

Malham Cove is just a mile up the path, a nice walk after supper. To see photos of the top of this large limestone formation, see the blog from 2007.

Janet's Foss was a pretty stopover for people who took the slightly longer route: