Fitz

At the centre of the square, a rectangular building perches atop four sturdy masonry corner blocks and a series of more delicate stone columns, leaving the undercroft open on all sides to create a covered area for market traders. Or, as today, a gaggle of high-vis jacketed schoolchildren eating their sandwiches.

At the centre of the square, a rectangular building perches atop four sturdy masonry corner blocks and a series of more delicate stone columns, leaving the undercroft open on all sides to create a covered area for market traders. Or, as today, a gaggle of high-vis jacketed schoolchildren eating their sandwiches.

Above the undercroft, a pretty Venetian window is set into the warm yellow stone under a gable roof, and atop the roof sits a white clock turret, capped with a gilded dome and weathervane. It all looks very quaint in the daylight,

Above the undercroft, a pretty Venetian window is set into the warm yellow stone under a gable roof, and atop the roof sits a white clock turret, capped with a gilded dome and weathervane. It all looks very quaint in the daylight,

But I wonder what kind of atmosphere this place would have after dark, when footsteps would echo loudly on the cobblestones, and the town hall, crouched over its leg-like columns, would cast a heavy shadow across the square. I feel like it would be very easy to see dark figures flit between those columns from the corner of your eye.

But I wonder what kind of atmosphere this place would have after dark, when footsteps would echo loudly on the cobblestones, and the town hall, crouched over its leg-like columns, would cast a heavy shadow across the square. I feel like it would be very easy to see dark figures flit between those columns from the corner of your eye.

But in fact, the ghostly encounter one man had here in the 1950s was rather more tangible. The local gentleman involved was at that time employed in a job whose title is likely to elicit stifled giggles these days, namely that of knocker-upper. And no, it's probably not what you think.

But in fact, the ghostly encounter one man had here in the 1950s was rather more tangible. The local gentleman involved was at that time employed in a job whose title is likely to elicit stifled giggles these days, namely that of knocker-upper. And no, it's probably not what you think.

He was employed by the railway company, and his job was to walk the streets of Whitby with a long pole, tapping on the upstairs bedroom windows of employees to wake them up in time for work. A job that necessitated being out and about before everyone else, when the streets were still dark, empty and quiet.

He was employed by the railway company, and his job was to walk the streets of Whitby with a long pole, tapping on the upstairs bedroom windows of employees to wake them up in time for work. A job that necessitated being out and about before everyone else, when the streets were still dark, empty and quiet.

One morning he was going about his task, turning from the market square onto Church Street, when he noticed a man wearing a billowing black cape who seemed to be speeding towards him.

One morning he was going about his task, turning from the market square onto Church Street, when he noticed a man wearing a billowing black cape who seemed to be speeding towards him.

Before the railway employee even had time to think, the unexplained figure was nearly upon him in a swirl of black cloak, and the unfortunate local was knocked right off his feet by what felt like a tremendous blast of air.

Before the railway employee even had time to think, the unexplained figure was nearly upon him in a swirl of black cloak, and the unfortunate local was knocked right off his feet by what felt like a tremendous blast of air.

The impact, if that is indeed what it was, didn't alter the caped stranger's trajectory one jot, and the figure swept on towards Sandgate, where, to the witness's shock, he vanished into thin air.

The impact, if that is indeed what it was, didn't alter the caped stranger's trajectory one jot, and the figure swept on towards Sandgate, where, to the witness's shock, he vanished into thin air.

And this isn't the only resident ghost of the area either, as one local ghost tour guide was to discover, to his surprise, when he was unexpectedly given a brand new ghost story to add to his collection by several patrons of his tour.

And this isn't the only resident ghost of the area either, as one local ghost tour guide was to discover, to his surprise, when he was unexpectedly given a brand new ghost story to add to his collection by several patrons of his tour.

James J. Brown describes in his book The Original Ghost Walk of Whitby how he used to end his tours of an evening outside a blind alley known as Sounder's Yard, which was just off the market square, and a few paces from an 18th century pub called the Black Horse Inn.

James J. Brown describes in his book The Original Ghost Walk of Whitby how he used to end his tours of an evening outside a blind alley known as Sounder's Yard, which was just off the market square, and a few paces from an 18th century pub called the Black Horse Inn.