Spofforth is a small village on the A661, situated midway between Wetherby and Harrogate. It is a pretty place with many attractive houses but most of the travellers that drive through Spofforth never think of stopping and having a closer look. If they did they might be pleasantly surprised. There is an interesting church and a charming pub, but of greatest interest to me is the ruined Manor house, better known as Spofforth Castle.
The ruins are approached by walking up the expansive green that affords an impressive view long before you reach your goal. I had decided to make my visit on a rainy Thursday probably because I knew I may have the place to myself and definitely because the atmosphere would be more charged. I wasn’t wrong.
The history of the house is interesting but not spectacular. William de Percy was granted 86 lordships in the north of England by his friend King William after the conquest in 1066. Spofforth became the home of the Percy’s until they moved their power base to Alnwick in the north east in the fourteenth century. The Percy’s lost the house and lands after backing the losing side in the Wars of the Roses but regained them again in 1559. The house was last inhabited in 1604 and was destroyed in the Civil War half a century later.
Today the ruins you see are mainly fifteenth century. One strange peculiarity of the building is the fact that the undercroft is built into the solid rock face. The hall which would have been above the undercroft was obviously impressive in its size and there is fashionable gothic tracery still to be seen above the large windows.
Of course it has a ghost, only one as far as I know. She is supposed to be a young maiden who took her own life by throwing herself off the tower to the ground beneath. The vision of her final action on this earth has been seen on several occasions. In 1969 some children and their teacher witnessed the fall and in 1973 two picnickers saw the same awful apparition. It is said that the spectre is bluish white in colour, and most srange of all, can only be seen from the waist up. There are also reports of her wandering around in the ruins themselves.
More important to me at the time though was the lack of shelter. I spent some time dodging the frequent and heavy showers that reminded me of the vagaries of the British summer. Certainly I had the place to myself and it was drab and gloomy in a rather satisfying way. There are tall trees that block out the light from one side and the built upon rock face on the other presenting a slight claustrophobic vibe. I took a number of pictures none with anything anomalous appearing on them unfortunately. Inevitably I kept looking up to the well preserved tower and imagined I might, with luck, witness the tragedy that presumably befell that young woman so many years ago.
After soaking up as much rain as the heavens could throw at me I reckoned it was time to get back to the protection of the car. Reason told me that on a hot bright day Spofforth Castle would be a cheery place to have a family picnic or spend a couple of hours sketching its romantic dilapidation but on this damp and dreary day it felt only sad and rather forlorn.
I will return to Spofforth because it is not far away and may well be haunted.I know that people have captured photo anomalies here so I am determined to persist with this promising location.
Toby