pendelton

Moor From the North: Bronte Country

There is a small place in the heart of every 19th-century British literature devotee that longs to walk across a moor. What is a moor? we ask. No one really knows, but we have a vague idea— it’s how Elizabeth won Darcy. If you walk around one for long enough, you might find Heathcliff, or if you’re particularly unlucky, the dread Count Fosco looming around Blackwater. They seem to be common places, but are rumored to have particularly bad weather and a lot of fog through which people trek for miles somewhere between early breakfast and tea time.

I had expressed my long curiosity of these mysterious places to my friend Olivia, who I met during my time at Oxford. It was then that I found out she lived in northern England, near the Lake District. Being a fellow enthusiast of English literature, she graciously invited me to visit, on what was to be rather a pilgrimage to the towns of Great British authors (Wordsworth! The Brontes! Beatrix Potter!). To get ready for our adventure, Liv packed me a care package full of Northern food. I was converted by Rhubarb and Clotted Cream Swirls.

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Yorkshire Tea and Lancashire Cheese!

Our first stop was Bronte Country, or the village of Haworth in Yorkshire to see the Haworth parsonage (where all three sisters lived and in which Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre were written). However, along the way we made a small detour into Rose & Co., and old school apothecary (and the background in the pictures), and a few vintage shops where I procured the navy velvet turban I’m wearing.

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Rose & Co.

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Downtown Haworth

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Pasture behind the Bronte’s House

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Bronte’s Creepy Parson-side Graveyard (which most likely poisoned their water source, and served as the fountain of Gothic writing)

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What I’m Wearing:
Hat: Vintage
Dress: Le Cremieux (available at Dillards)
Blazer: Pendelton Wool
Bonjour Bag: Zara
Tights: Wolford
Boots: Hunter

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I had a wonderful trip, and I can’t thank Olivia enough for the wonderful experience. Further, a warm shout-out to Simon (I didn’t forget you) for driving us all around the Lake District (and everywhere else) for a glimpse of Wordsworth’s house.

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Worth it.