This lovely, peaceful place, they say, used to harbor monks who were slaughtered during Cromwell’s reign. They say that those monks rise when the moon is full. They walk the paths in silence. They say that no one has seen their faces.
Those who have seen the ghosts don’t speak of it. Something in their eyes forbids questions. But, they say, once a person has seen the ghosts, he is compelled to return. They watch in silence, waiting.
One of the watchers wrote in his diary that the paths were wet with tears as the monks passed.
So they say.