Last updated on September 5th, 2024 at 08:59 am
The great tempest broke rapidly and without warning in the darkness. The sea around Whitby convulsed, waves rising in growing fury, over-topping one another, beating white-topped on the sands, rushing up the cliffs and breaking with great spumes over the piers of the harbour. Adding to the difficulties and dangers of the night, a huge sea-fog drifted inland, ghost-like, its wet clouds so dank and cold it was as though the spirits of those lost at sea touched the living with the clammy hand of death. One by one, fishing-boats running madly for safety made the harbour, guided by a great searchlight mounted on the top of East Cliff. Finally, the searchlight picked out one last remaining vessel, a foreign schooner spotted earlier, all sails set, drifting, out of control. Somehow, miraculously, the strange vessel made its way between the piers, seeming to leap from wave to wave, apparently steered by a corpse, with drooping head, lashed to the helm. The schooner pitched up with considerable concussion on the beach below East Cliff, next to ancient Tate Hill Pier. But, strangest of all, the very instant the shore was touched an immense dog sprang up on deck from below and leapt from the bows onto the sand. It made straight for the steep cliff, where the churchyard hangs over the lane below such that some tombstones actually project over where the cliff has fallen away. And there the dog disappeared, into the darkness. 1] So Dracula arrived in the Yorkshire seaside town of Whitby; and the fact is, he’s never left.
Dracula, the novel, was published in 1897. It was the brain-child of actor Henry Irving’s business manager, Bram (Abraham) Stoker (1847-1912). Stoker had written short stories before and in July 1890 arrived in Whitby for a holiday, having been working on a story set in Styria, Austria, with a central character called Count Wampyr. Something inspired him during his stay in this little Yorkshire seaside town, for what emerged from his pen, told through fictional journals and fragments of letters, was one of the most powerful and enduring tales of terror ever conceived. Indeed, Dracula, one of the un-dead, ironically has a kind of immortality denied to his creator.
Visitors flock to Whitby; at times, it seems they almost outnumber the seagulls. Too many people have eaten too many chips. The town, in parts tacky and tired, in others tasty and terrific, is known for its fish ‘n’ chips, bracing seascapes, association with the 18th century explorer, Captain Cook, its world-famous jet industry (in this instance a gemstone, not a means of propulsion), as a terminus of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and, of course, the atmospheric ruins of its 11th century abbey.
“The little river, the Esk, runs through a deep valley, which broadens out as it comes near the harbour. A great viaduct runs across, with high piers, through which the view seems, somehow, farther away than it really is. The valley is beautifully green, and it is so steep that when you are on the high land on either side you look right across it, unless you are near enough to see down. The houses of the old town…are all red-roofed and seem piled up one over the other anyhow, like the pictures we see of Nuremberg. Right over the town is the ruin of Whitby Abbey, which was sacked by the Danes, and which is the scene of part of ‘Marmion’, where the girl was built up in the wall. It is a most noble ruin, of immense size, and full of beautiful and romantic bits; there is a legend that a white lady is seen in one of the windows. Between it and the town there is another church, the parish one, round which is a big graveyard, all full of tombstones. This is, to my mind, the nicest spot in Whitby…” 2]
You can’t escape Dracula in Whitby. Allow me to elaborate: for a start, there are little bits of him and the whole bloody vampire business in various emporia throughout the town. All of this is, mostly, light-hearted; so, even if you’re not a sucker for that kind of thing and it’s not love at first bite (etc), it normally fades into the background like a kind of wallpaper, or perhaps a bad dream. The playfully curious can partake of the ‘Dracula Experience’, a cautious walk through one of Whitby’s historic houses which has been specially kitted out to retell the dreadful story using dummies, special effects and actors. And, notwithstanding some natural scepticism and the Dracula Experience’s rather badly-written website, it is quite well done. I defy you not to feel a little edgy from the outset, and predict you will jump at least once; maybe twice. It’s a few quid amusingly spent, anyway. Whitby’s association with Dracula also resonates with the Goth subculture; fans of this darker world flock to Whitby for its biannual Goth festival, the Whitby Goth Weekend, founded in 1994.
But, beyond all that, there’s no doubt that Whitby suits Dracula; or is it the other way round? Even the polished, gleaming, black jet, displayed in shops along Church Street and beautifully mounted in gold, sometimes has a slightly funereal look about it. The medieval abbey, occupying the site of a much older, 7th century, monastery dominates the town and manages to be both graceful as well as strangely brooding. Next to it, the medieval parish church of St Mary’s perches on East Cliff, its crowded, untidy, old and obviously decaying churchyard occasionally exposing and shedding human bones onto the paths below as the ground erodes. St Mary’s is a slightly odd building; in some ways not very church-like. Apart from the squat, but reasonably traditional tower, outside it seems a curious hotch-potch of structures, with large, but almost domestic-looking, windows. Inside, it is enormous, with a seating capacity for two thousand and a cramped ground floor full of box pews, like a collection of massive open-topped coffins. Most people access church and abbey via the 199 worn stone steps that curve up from the town, occasionally lit by streetlamps straight from a Jack the Ripper film set. I once stood on West Cliff on a bright sunny evening, gazing across the harbour at St Mary’s and the old abbey. Out of nowhere, a sea-mist blew in and, in moments, the headline opposite, and then the harbour, were shrouded in darkness.
“For a moment or two I could see nothing, as the shadow of a cloud obscured St Mary’s Church and all around it. Then as the cloud passed I could see the ruins of the Abbey coming into view; and as the edge of a narrow band of light as sharp as a sword-cut moved along, the church and the churchyard became gradually visible. Whatever my expectation was, it was not disappointed, for there, on our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white. The coming of the cloud was too quick for me to see much, for shadow shut down on light almost immediately; but it seemed to me as though something dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell.” 3]
In 1885, just five years before Stoker’s holiday, a Russian brigantine from Narva (now in Estonia) ran aground in Whitby harbour, on Tate Hill Sands below East Cliff. She was called the Dmitry and she was carrying a ballast of silver sand.
“It turns out that the schooner is a Russian from Varna, and is called the Demeter. She is almost entirely in ballast of silver sand, with only a small amount of cargo – a number of great wooden boxes filled with mould.” 4]
Vampires can take the form of a black dog. Black dogs make frequent appearances in myth and legend. A mythical monstrous black dog with large teeth and claws occurs in Northern English folklore; it is called a Barghest or Barguest and seeing one is often an omen of death.
Dracula is much lampooned in these sceptical, digital, days – a caricature creature for juvenile horror movies and Halloween masks. But the novel is actually deeply disturbing, menacing, and plays on deep-rooted fears and fascinations. It is often claimed that Stoker got the inspiration for Count Dracula himself from a book he found in the library at Whitby, where he learned of a 15th century ruler of Wallachia (now in Romania), Vlad III, Vlad Tepes – or Vlad the Impaler. Vlad, as his nickname suggests, had a preferred method for dealing with people that irritated him; it is claimed he killed some 80,000 people, of which roughly 20,000 were impaled. Drac, or dracul, apparently means ‘the Devil’ in Romanian. Alternatively, I have also read that Dracula also means ‘son of dragon’ and is derived from a knightly order of the dragon bestowed upon Vlad III’s father. You’ll need a more scholarly approach than mine to get to the bottom of this one.
Some say that further inspiration for Dracula came from the Hungarian Countess Elizabeth Báthory, who got her kicks, and preserved her youthful beauty, by bathing in the fresh blood of virgins. The Count’s outwardly charming and aristocratic demeanour was apparently copied from Stoker’s employer, Henry Irving.
Of course, Stoker did not invent vampires. James Malcolm Rymer, writer of penny dreadfuls, or ‘penny bloods’, published Varney the Vampire; or the Feast of Blood in 1845-46, beating Bram by half a century. There were others – and I assume you’ve heard the rumours from long before that, seeping from the remoter parts of Transylvania and the Carpathian Mountains – home to wolf, lynx, bear, and more? Down through the centuries come horrifying tales of foul creatures, neither living nor dead, known by various names: vurculac, varcolac, wampyr – or vampire. Varcolac can also mean werewolf; there are, after all, similarities. The mythology of vampires is remarkably – and worryingly – detailed. Nor are they confined to Romania; they can be found in Russia, Bulgaria, Moravia (Czech Republic) and Albania. Beyond Eastern Europe, Whitby and Greater London, they have also been known in Brazil, China, Mexico and – it should surprise no one – the United States too.
“Within, stood a tall old man, clean-shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. The instant that I stepped over the threshold he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice – more like the hand of a dead than a living man.”
“His face was a strong – very strong – aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples, but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.”
“As the Count leaned over me and his hands (which, strange to say had hairs in the centre of the palms) touched me, I could not suppress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal. The Count, evidently noticing it, drew back; and with a grim sort of smile showed more than he had done yet of his protuberant teeth.”
“As I listened I heard, as if from down below in the valley, the howling of many wolves. The Count’s eyes gleamed, and he said: –
‘Listen to them – the children of the night. What music they make!’ “ 5]
Sleep well. Remember what tricks our dreams can play.
1] Paraphrased from Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, Chapter VII
2] Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, Chapter VI, Mina Murray’s journal
3] Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, Chapter VIII, Mina Murray’s journal
4] Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, Chapter VII
5] From Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’, Chapter VII, Jonathan Harker’s journal
I agree with you about the novel. I put off reading “Dracula” for a long time, expecting it to be a genre horror story. It was much deeper psychologically than I expected.
Wonderful shots and such a cool legend.
I should have read this on Halloween night!!!
Excellent read and photographs.
All the best Jan
A timely post. Excellent photos of Whitby.
I have visited Whitby a few times. Whilst I was there we checked out a few of the graveyards including the one at Whitby, not for any macabre reason. I visited them whilst researching my family history as many of my ancestors were from that area.
I love Whitby! I discovered it through the Bram Stoker connection, when I researched vampires in popular culture at university. When I did manage to visit, I stayed in a gorgeous Gothic B&B, and spent many an hour wandering the land around the abbey and church, taking in the scenery, and imagining it as Bram Stoker perceived it all those years ago. A beautiful place!
Never read Dracula, not my cup of tea that s aid I found this post interesting
Oooooo! Wonderfully spooky pictures. Did not know Bram’s full name was Abraham either.
Neither did I until I wrote this!
We haven’t been to Whitby in years! The last time was in 1997 when our scariest experience was travelling on a double-decker open-topped bus through all those winding steep streets while holding tightly onto our youngest daughter, then seven months old. Our older daughter had recently read Dracula and wished to experience Whitby.
Well researched, written and illustrated as always, Mike. As Helen Devries has mentioned, we in Suffolk have Black Shuck who has caused much damage through the centuries. My favourite Black Shuck however, is http://blackshuckltd.co.uk/
We will need to look that up when making the next official visit to East Anglia!
We are off there on holiday next year so it was very interesting to read. Hope we are in the better part! Sarah x
Enjoy! Lots to see and do. Take a trip on the railway if you have time.
I’d always thought that Whitby was a bit of a random choice, but it seems that isn’t the case. One day I will get round to reading Dracula.
A topically toothsome tale
I knew I could rely on you, Derrick…
Hi Mike – that was so interesting … great fun – yet one could imagine the terror of the times – and Vlad was horrendous. I have yet to visit Whitby – and now definitely on the list with your post to hand … loved it – cheers Hilary
Interestingly Bram Stoker’s brother – Surgeon Lt Colonel Richard Nugent Stoker lived just outside Duncan, British Columbia … he was born on 31st Oct … just shown the gravestone in my Halloween post … as I went to see his home and his burial place … there are relatives still around – cheers Hilary
Well – I didn’t know that; very interesting!
I can see how this place would have inspired Stoker. Both he and Irving turn up as characters in The Last American Vampire, a novel by Seth Graeme Smith.
Brilliant article Mike. I love the first photos, very atmospheric, especially number 5. I like the steps one too. I do like a good horror story. Despite countless visits to Yorkshire many years ago, to see my mother, I never managed to visit Whitby.
I had a real problem getting the ghost to sit still in photo No 5.
I think ‘love at first bite’ might be an apt description of our smallest dog. Nip first and ask questions later is her style.
That was a stunning post….where do you find the time for all that research?
We lived in North Norfolk for a while, where the devil dog which roamed at night was called Black Shuck…is it a Scandinavian thing, do you think, being ‘seen’ in areas of Danish settlements?
Thanks, Helen. Black dogs certainly get around: it’s interesting how variations of the same tale crop up in different places; makes you wonder whether there’s an element of truth in them…
I have fond memories of day trips to Whitby when I lived in East Yorkshire. The fish and chips are indeed “to die for” if that’s not too inappropriate in the context! I also liked Robin Hood’s Bay which, to the best of my knowledge, has nothing to do with the man from Sherwood Forest. It is, though, one end of the Lykes Wake Walk, a 40 mile trek I once did, beginning at the other end at 10pm, walking through the night and most of the following day. I still have, buried in a drawer somewhere, the black coffin shaped badge too prove it. Thanks for another beautifully written and illustrated slice of English history and geography.
Thanks, Frank; you could’ve said, “fangs for the memories” 🙂
legends of vampires are one of the most intriguing legends there are:) I’d love to visit Whitby, but not because of Bram’s Dracula.)
I have fond memories of visiting Whitby a few times during the years my late husband and I were on holiday in Scarborough. The visitor centre up at the abbey I remember as well done, with really interesting and fascinating information. I found the same to be true about the Captain Cook museum. And yes, the fish & chips were delicious! I hope to return some day.
I have read that Vlad the Impaler is a direct ancestor of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Fortunately our great Monarch does not engage in the same behaviour as her infamous ancestor. Thank you for another very interesting post. Gael Phillips.
Yes, I’d seen something about that too; I’m a sucker for that kind of thing.
Nod.. it seems that Stoker really _did_ get the inspiration for Count Dracula from the 15th century ruler of Wallachia, Vlad the Impaler. But I don’t do ghouls, ghosts, brooding, darkness, blood oozing or creepiness, so would definitely NOT go on a Dracula Experience.
Nonetheless some of Whitby’s architecture is amazing and I had forgotten about the connection with Captain Cook.
Whoa! What fun that would be to read by flashlight with a bunch of cousins gathered under the high-platform bed in a dark room. (The kind of thing my cousins and I (in our youth) regularly did when we got together, trying to scare ourselves to death!) Great post!! Read it aloud to Mr. C. He didn’t get scared, but then it’s still daylight.
Delightfully apt and spooky.
I wasn’t aware of the Whitby connection.
It is amazing that new slants on vampires keep occurring in literature. A series by a fellow author published by my publisher manages an entirely different view of them while retaining the horror aspect.
What a fantastic post for this season of the year! Fascinating information and great pictures, as always- it’s been a while since I read Dracula. It looks like Whitby has the right feel for the book! The stories of “Vlad” are always shiver-worthy as well.
If more recent books are to be believed, the American vampire is a bit less intimidating than sparkly, which is a good thing since their “secret” lair in Forks, WA isn’t THAT far away, as the supernatural black dog runs…
I’m having trouble with the idea of a ‘sparkly’ vampire… 🙂
Hee hee- then you’ve obviously never read the “Twilight” books. Set in Forks, WA, apparently the sparkling in sunlight is a big feature of the romance. (Or so I’m told, as I haven’t read ’em either…)
Loved this one..Whitby is mine and my partners favourite place! Fabulous history and very atmospheric..especially at night.
We will be visiting again for illuminated Abbey on Monday night.
Regards
Donna L
Hope it was good!
Great shiver-in-your-boots stuff, Mike.
I have been to Whitby many years ago and didn’t realize the connection to Dracula. Now I must go back!
Gracious me!! I didn’t quite realise all this about Whitby and Dracula. But it is a little town that I really like. We stayed in a delightful goth guesthouse which was as creepy as could be, except for the owner who was as jolly as could be. And I do hope they never change their museum which is a real piece of fascinating Victoriana, and one I hope I can return to and find that it has not been dumbed down and simplified like so many museums are.