An Unexpected Side to Haworth

As part of my ongoing, occasional project to visit places in London and the UK that, if I were a tourist, I would have seen a long time ago, this weekend I visited Haworth in Yorkshire.

The trip was intended as a sort of literary pilgrimage to see the Parsonage which was home to the Bronte sisters, but we happened on the village at the beginning of its ‘1940s weekend’ where all things from that era are celebrated.  Bunting, sand bags, taped up windows, ‘traditional meals’ as well as splendidly dressed visitors.

These lovely ladies kindly allowed me to take their photo as they strolled up the main street.  They told me they collected the clothing so that they would have a special outfit for each day of the weekend and had been up early that morning styling their hair.

Given the level of preparations evident in the village, the 1940s festival is a big deal in these parts, and the all the tickets for the dance are already sold out.

I’ll write about the Bronte Haworth for tomorrow, and in the meantime will ponder the wartime nostalgia.

Leave a comment


  1. I’ve never been to Haworth, it looks beautiful. I would guess that most of the 1940s fun lies in the dressing up “a bit glam” compared to today’s jeans and sweatshirts, but Peter Ackroyd commented on the immense sense of community spirit and “we’re all in this together”ness of those times. Nostalgia for that, I’m sure.

    • Yes, I think it is the dressing up as well as that ‘Dunkirk spirit’ that is the mythology of the time.


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