Caworth

Chapter 1. The Mausoleum

"I hate to say this Betty," Blanche shouted above the noise of the wind and rain, "I don't think we are going to make it to the B&B tonight."

"We've got to find some shelter from this wind though. We won't last the night out in the open in this weather. Maybe we can get to the Mausoleum at the Manor house ruins. I seem to remember there was quite an overhang to the roof," Betty replied speaking directly into her companion's ear.

Both women were experienced hikers but this time the early October weather had caught them out. The morning forecast was for quite reasonable weather and they started out in bright sunshine with high expectations of a good day's walking, but by midday the clouds thickened and rain coupled with a strong head wind followed shortly afterwards. Soon clouds blotted out the landscape and the pair were forced to proceed slowly and navigate by compass to keep their direction over the open moorland. Fortunately they had walked the route before and could pick out a number of landmarks when they were close enough to see them. Such was the case now as they rested for a few moments in the lee of an unusual shaped boulder.

"Yes, we sat and ate lunch there a couple of years back. It was a sun-trap then, not like now! Should be less than a mile but it is going to get dark early tonight so we best keep on. The track will be too tricky to get down in the dark. It's a spooky place but we should survive."

Caworth Manor was at one time the home of the Dickwood family but fire gutted it in 1928 and many of the family and staff lost their lives. The fire was an arson attack perpetrated by the husband of one of the maids in reprisal for Lord Dickwood's cuckolding of his wife. The incident was reported in the Yorkshire Echo for October 11th 1928.

'Fire last night totally destroyed Caworth Manor, the home of Lord Dickwood and his family. He, his wife and over thirty guests, including a number of other nobility, and staff lost their lives in the tragedy. It appears the fire was started deliberately by Henry Bottomly with the intention of destroying the place and causing the deaths of the Dickwood family. He is believed to have lost his life in the fire too. Only the cook, five maids and four men were able to escape by battering down the wooden door to the coal cellar. Ironically one of those who escaped was Mrs. Edna Bottomly who tearfully confided in our reporter. "When my husband found out that his Lordship and his friends were using me and the other maids in ways that only a husband should, he became very angry. At the best of times he was a very short-tempered man. He forbade me to work there any longer but I refused to give up the work because it was well paid and Henry couldn't do much work because of his gammy leg. He must have followed me to the house and got in the back way and locked the door. Most of the guests and a lot of the staff were in the upstairs gaming room. I had been for most of the time but had to go down to the cellar for more wine. When I came up one end of the hall was well alight and Henry was throwing lamp oil on any furnishings that would burn. I tried to get out of the side door but that was locked and I couldn't get near the main entrance or the back door because of the flames. Henry didn't see me because he was busy taking setting fire to the stairway. Mr. Jeffries, one of the butlers, said to go to the cellar, which I did along with some of the kitchen staff. The door to the coal chute was bolted from the outside but two of the men broke it open and we escaped."'

The report listed the dead and the findings of the investigating officers.

Since then, the house had been plundered for building stone but the mausoleum, a large ornate building containing the tombs of the Dickwood family from 1707, was still intact and the whole site was now maintained by the Caworth Preservation Trust.

"Here we are Betty," Blanche exclaimed as she dumped her pack on the ground alongside one of the pair of ionic columns that framed the entrance door. "And it is comparatively dry and sheltered under this arch. It won't be comfortable but in our sleeping bags it shouldn't be too bad."

Betty dumped her rucsac and agreed. "I could use my mobile and call for help if you think it is necessary."

"No," Blanche replied, "We've been in worse situations. The stone ledge will be hard and cold but with our sleeping bags inside the large outer plastic bag, we should be warm enough or at least we shouldn't freeze to death." She rummaged in her rucsac and found her LED headband torch and put it on. "You fill your billie with water and I'll get the stove going. We can at least make some hot chocolate and we've got our emergency rations and the left-overs from our packed lunch." Blanch set the little gas burner in the corner by the doorjamb and then on impulse tried to turn the iron ringed doorknob. To her amazement, the door opened. "I guess one of the trust people forgot to lock it," she told her friend.

"I don't know if we ought to go in, Blanche. I'm not sure I want to sleep in with those dead bodies." Betty had visions of a charnel house with the skulls of the long departed grinning hideously at her. Blanche was already inside.

"There's no sign of dead bodies Betty, just tombs like you see in churches. It's dry and clean so I guess the trust people did some cleaning in here. We could zip our bags together and lie on this double tomb." She read the inscription, "Here lyeth the remains of Lord Richard Dickwood and of his wife May who died in a tragic fire on the 10th day of October in the year of our Lord Nineteen hundred and twenty-eight. R.I.P." Blanche paused and remarked, "Today's the anniversary of the fire."

"And no doubt the warlocks and witches will be about," muttered Betty who had now entered the mausoleum too, "But you're right, we'll be better off in here than under the archway. I'll bring our things in."

For the next half an hour, they explored the room and made themselves a warm drink and ate some food. Feeling a little more relaxed, they sat by the flickering light of the emergency candle. It was shorter and thicker than the normal household candle and was reputed to burn for a longer time. This was its first time they needed to use it. "We'll have to shut the door to keep the draught down but I'll push a piece of the thick card from the chocolate box between the lock and the keep to prevent anyone locking us in." Blanche acted on her suggestion. "That will also keep the door from banging. Now let's nip out for a quick pee and then get our boots and outside clothes off and snuggle into our sleeping bags," she went on. "It will be much warmer in them."

The pair were no strangers to sleeping together. Betty moved in with Blanche ten years previously, when they were both 26 years old. She obtained a job at the firm where Blanche had worked for a year and put a card on the staff notice board asking if anyone could suggest an address for accommodation. Blanche answered the request, saying she had a spare room but in less than a month the two found themselves sleeping in the same bed and that arrangement had continued ever since.

Tonight though, there would be little love making. The cold air and the hardness of the marble top to the tomb necessitated leaving on as much of their under clothing as possible. Only their faces were uncovered. For a while they cuddled close and talked in hushed tones of their experiences and what little they knew of the people lying under them. Soon though exhaustion took over and they dosed off.

"Ah! You're here at last. No need for you to sleep in this place. We have been expecting you. Please come with me."

Blanche woke with a start and stared at the uniformed man holding an oil lantern. Betty gave a little scream. The lantern held close to the man's face produced shadows that gave him a ghoulish appearance and in this mausoleum she believed they could have come from a devilish source. Quickly she scrambled out of the sleeping bag and ran for the door. It was locked. The bolt appeared to have penetrated the card.