If the sight of Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie romping around the Yorkshire moors has given you an itch for a dramatic mini break, then look no further: here’s your stylish guide to Brontë country (moody Heathcliff optional).
For those keen on accuracy, head to Holdsworth House, where Elordi, Robbie, and crew stayed during filming of Wuthering Heights, just outside Halifax. The hotel is a beautiful stone Grade II-listed 17th-century Jacobean Manor house (it even offers a “Brontë break,” with a breakfast included, tickets to the Brontë Parsonage and a hand-drawn walking guide to Haworth). When you’ve had your fill of beating-heart sightseeing, you can indulge in the kind of R and R that Cathy would have wept for. Its new Farmhouse treatment rooms use Irish luxury skincare brand Ground Wellbeing, formulations which are 100% vegan and plant-based. Then eat like the Earnshaws with its eight-course tasting menu (featuring foraged wild mushrooms and Yorkshire venison) under the cozy restaurant’s original beamed low ceilings next to the roaring fire.
Haworth is a 20-minute drive through the Pennines. At the top of its cobbled high street sits the Brontë Parsonage, the house where Charlotte, Anne, and Emily lived with their brother Branwell. Next door is St. Michael and All Angels Church (where their father Patrick was curate) and its deeply atmospheric graveyard. Charlotte and Emily are buried in the family vault in the church, and on show inside is Charlotte’s marriage certificate; she is listed with no profession, despite being renowned then as the author of Jane Eyre.
The house itself is hauntingly similar to how it was when the family were in residence. The front parlor room is laid out as if they’d just broken for tea, while the small dining room table they worked at scattered with a writing block and ink, newspapers, cups and saucers. But tragedy, too, isn’t far from sight; against the wall is the sofa where Emily died from tuberculosis, aged 30.
Upstairs there are everyday ephemera, letters, Emily’s christening mug and diary; Charlotte’s small writing desk, dress and bonnet; as well as a mock-up of Bramwell’s messy, unkempt bedroom, as if he’s just stumbled out to the Black Bull to drink himself into oblivion (the pub he frequented, which still stands in the town). The museum also features film posters and paraphernalia from every on-screen depiction of the sisters’ works—it’s riveting to see the gamut of interpretations taken in light of the debate over Emerald Fennell’s version.