The Exeter Cathedral Ghost

In the twilight of Exeter, where the ancient cathedral’s spires claw at the heavens and the weight of centuries hums in its weathered stones, a restless spirit stirs each July. Long before the modern world encroached, when faith and fear wove the fabric of medieval lives, Sister Eleanor Whitstone bound her soul to this sacred ground through devotion and unspoken sorrow. Her ghostly silhouette, born of a life cut short, glides through the nave’s south wall at Vespers’ hour, a silent hymn echoing in her wake. This tale of spectral grace, whispered from cloister to Deanery, binds the living to a past that lingers, where the veil between worlds thins under the cathedral’s watchful gaze.