The Mysterious Death Of Abigail
I was setting out on a journey which was shrouded with sadness, it was the thirty first of October in the year nineteen fifty seven and I was going in search of some answers surrounding the death of my dear friend Abigail who had reportedly thrown herself to her death from the cliff tops high above Tate Hill sands from St Marys church Graveyard in the North Yorkshire Fishing port of Whitby.
I departed from the fine old Victorian Railway station in Huddersfield which is a bustling industrial town in West Yorkshire, The station has a very impressive facade which dominates St George's square, I bought my ticket and was informed that I would have to change trains in York I walked through the subway to platform eight where I waited for the outbound train, A whistle blew and a cloud of steam and smoke erupted out of the tunnel then there it was like some great mechanical dragon thundering up the platform it stopped with a screech of steel on steel and came to a halt, The guard got out of the guards van and chatted with the conductor who stood cradling his ticket machine all those stood on the platform boarded the train and walked down the corridor before entering the warmth of a compartment, While I was sitting on the train I looked out of the window and noticed the wheel tapper going about his job of tapping the wheels of the train with his hammer listening for that clear bell like sound which told him the wheel was fine and had no cracks, the whistle blew followed by a cloud of steam and smoke then the train began to move slowly at first then picking up speed as it left Huddersfield. The train passed through the old textile towns of Mirfield, Ravensthorpe, dewsbury, batley and Leeds from then on the there was a change in the countryside leaving behind the industrial towns with their hundreds of mill chimneys belching out smoke into the air to a rural view of fields and farming the train passed through the vale of York before pulling into York where I got off the train on platform four I asked the guard what time the next train to Whitby was he informed me it was fifteen minuets and would be departing from platform six.
My mind began to wander and I wondered what had really happened to dear Abigail on that terrible day when she had plunged to her death from the cliff top.
I boarded the train and again found a comfortable compartment and sat in a window seat soon there was a whistle blowing and the familiar cloud of steam and smoke as the train chugged out of York station and was soon thundering through the North Yorkshire countryside which was without doubt very beautiful indeed the train entered the North Yorkshire moors which were very stark and barren with the occasional covering of Purple heather we passed through Lealhom, Glaisdale, Grosmont, Sleights and Ruswarp all such stunning little villages before pulling in to the station in Whitby which was the end of the line.
I walked out of the station and immediately could smell the salt sea air I looked up and could see the outline of St Mary's church and Whitby Abbey which were High above the town, I crossed over the road and passed through a ginnel down the side of the station inn which led through to Haggersgate the main street of Whitby town's west side I went into the little tobacconist's and bough some Players weight cigarettes and a box of Bryant and May matches from there I walked through the town before crossing over the swing bridge over the river Esk to the east side of Whitby with it's old cobbled streets I walked along sandgate then up through the market square onto church street where I called into the Board Inn, the landlord was quite a jolly fellow and started chatting to me and asked me if I had come to Whitby to take part in the celebrations of Samhain or Halloween as some called it to be honest I had forgotten all about the date and it being Samhain I had much more pressing matters on my mind, I had a refreshing pint of ale before climbing the one hundred and ninety nine steps which led to St Mary's church the very steps that dear Abigail must have walked up on that fateful night.
I left the Board Inn and looked back down Church Street which appeared to be shrouded in mist as smoke from the cottage chimneys mingled with the street lights it looked quite eerie, I turned towards the steps and began the ascent I stopped on the first landing and looked out over the sea and Tate hill pier and noticed that a sea fret was rolling in over the North Sea I moved on upwards ever upwards it seemed until I reached the last the final step somewhat out of breath and with aching legs, I walked into St Mary's church and the graveyard and sat on a bench overlooking the twiN piers and the harbour it was beginning to come dark as the evening was drawing in, I lit a cigarette and just sat there day dreaming and blowing the smoke into the sky as time passed by the sea fret began to roll in over the graveyard and its centuries old weather beaten gravestones the mist between the stones at times appeared to be like that of a spirit rising from the ground before the breeze carried it away towards the Abbey in my daydream state my mind was open to suggestion from my surroundings and I swear I could hear the sound of Gregorian chant coming from within the ruins of the Abbey it was a beautiful sound and offered such a feeling of peace and a sense of reverence the monks had for their God my mind then drifted to St Marys church with its strange interior with stalls with doors on instead of pews The richer the family the closer they were to the alter as though their wealth and standing gave them privilidged access to the throne room of God where as in life the pauper was at the back of the queue but nevertheless just as worthy as those who are rich in the kingdom of Heaven and according to their bible it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the gates of heaven.
There is a golden lectern in the shape of an eagle with outstretched wings upon which sits a bible open at the page for the reading Romans 14:10
Why, then, do you judge your brother? Or why do you belittle your brother? For we will all stand before God's judgment seat.
There is also a three tiered pulpit which certainly puts the vicar closer to the heavens at such a height above the congregation from his lofty position he delivers his sermon to those gathered and his subject for the day is the ten commandments where he speaks of this list of ten commandments God delivered to Moses and should any one of these commandments be broken by anyone there present then they would be dispatched into eternal damnation by God on the day of judgement where they will be burned by flames, eaten by worms and be in torment and agony for ever and ever! then after filling the congregation with fear he stretches his arms apart and tells them that despite all that has been said God loves them and is a benevolent father to them providing that they do not break his commandments, I then hear the Organ coughing and wheezing into life and the congregation burst into an old hymn by Samuel Trevor Francis entitled " the deep, deep love of Jesus "
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, spread His praise from shore to shore!
How He loveth, ever loveth, changeth never, nevermore!
How He watches o'er His loved ones, died to call them all His own;
How for them He intercedeth, watcheth o'er them from the throne!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, love of every love the best!
'Tis an ocean vast of blessing, 'tis a haven sweet of rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, 'tis a heaven of heavens to me;
And it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee!
Quite a fitting hymn to be sung in a sea port, as I returned to my normal senses I looked out over Tate hill pier once again and the sea fret had passed and the sea looked flat calm all was quiet with the exception of some seagulls screeching overhead, It was then I heard another noise which seemed to be coming from behind me and as I turned to look my eyes could not believe what they were seeing my heart was beating faster than normal it was as though I could also hear my heart beating in my ears, In my daydream state I had forgotten that it was the festival of Samhain otherwise known as all hallows eve when the veil between our world and the spirit world was at its thinnest and the dead are supposed to be able to walk the Earth.
There she was stood before me wrapped in grave clothes with the distinct smell of death about her yet she was as beautiful as she had been in life and looked just as she had while laid in her coffin on the day of her funeral her lips were blood red and her skin was very pale she stared at me looking directly into my eyes as though she was searching out the very depths of my soul but how could this be?
With the exception of her clothing she looked just as she had the day we had shared a coffee and some cake in the lounge of the Royal hotel overlooking the sea the very same hotel where Bram Stoker had penned the novel Dracula, there was no mistaking that it was Abigail who was stood before me, I tried to speak but Abigail reached out and placed a finger on my lips as though she wanted me to remain silent, I admit that I felt a wave of fear come over me but also a feeling of happiness that my dear friend Abigail was stood there with me, the minuets passed by were just a mass of different emotions my brain telling me that this could not be as Abigail was dead I had seen her in her coffin and had watched as the grave diggers filled in her grave with soil, My heart on the other hand was filled with a feeling of love and happiness that my Dear Abigail was with me.
After what seemed like a lifetime we both sat together on the seat overlooking Tate Hill and the twin piers, I lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, up to this point there had been nbo dialogue between us I drew on my cigarette again blew the smoke up into the darkening sky and plucked up enough courage to speak, " my dear Abigail I have come looking for some answers as to why your lifeless body was found on the rocks beneath the cliffs where St Mary's church stood ", " Why on that night did you choose to take your own life in such a terrible way "? Abigail smiled at me then shook her head she then spoke and said," It is not what it seems my dear Edward for on that night I did not take my own life ", I begged her to carry on as I had always thought that someone so young and vibrant with so much to live for would take her own life and had thought that the reports of Abigail's death somehow did not ring true and as though like a jigsaw some important pieces were missing! Pieces which would make the whole picture clear.
Abigail spoke again and asked me if I remembered the day we had shared the coffee in the Royal hotel and how we had spoken of life and what our hopes and dreams were and that we had both spoken of the desire to at some point settle down and start families, there was never aby question about Abigail and Myself getting married as we had been very close friends since our school days and were more like brother and sister. I remember when Abigail had to move to Whitby because of her fathers work which left a hole in my life as we did spend a lot of time together, We continued to write letters to each other and I would often visit Whitby where we would spend time together times which were very precious indeed.
Abigail went on and spoke of meeting a gentleman and how they had started a relationship together and as Abigail put it The gentleman swept her off her feet and she fell totally in love with him his name was Jonathon Robson who was Born and bred in Whitby, Abigail said that although she was deeply in love with him there was something about him that worried her in as much as that he was quite secretive about where he lived and what he did for a living but despite this she was enamoured by his charm one thing led to another and Abigail became pregnant which of course was unplanned as they were not even engaged to be married, Abigail went on to say that on the night of her death Jonathon had asked her to meet him at St Mary's church she said she was quite excited about this as she felt that he was going to propose to her and perhaps even speak with the vicar about setting a date to get married and she was so excited at the thought of this as as she said he was the most wonderful man she had ever known, Abigail said that she was walking around in a dream that day just waiting for the time to pass so she could meet him.
Abigail said that she had arrived at the church ten minuets early in anticipation and that her heart had skipped a beat when she saw Jonathon appear at the top of the steps she ran to him and trew her arms around him and had kissed him passionatly. Jonathon asked her to walk around the graveyard with him as he had something he wanted to speak to her about, again her herat had skipped a beat thinking that it would be a marriage proposal followed by a chat with the vicar they held hands and walked among the gravestones she said she felt so very, very happy as they got to the corner of the graveyard overlooking Tatehill sands and the pier Jonathon had got hold of her and turned her to face him and as he looked into her eyes she sensed that something was not right! he was not his usual kind and smiling self he took a deep breath and said to her that there was no way that she could let the child inside her be born and demended that she had an abortion ! She told me she had asked him why and what he told her had sent a feeling of revulsion through her Jonathon who she though was so wondeful told her in a very cold manner that she was only a bit of fun to him and that he was already married to someone else, He warned her that if she did not get rid of the baby she would never see him again! Abigail told me that she had told him that she could never get rid of the baby and planned to go ahead and have it, Abigail also told me that she had also told Jonathon that she would find out who he was married to and would tell his wife about her pregnancy! Abigail then told me that is when Jonathon had pulled her to him and had tried to kiss her on the lips which she tried to stop by turning her head to the side it was then that Jonathon had pushed her away with such force that she had gone over the cliff to her death.
I now knew the horrible truth behind Abigail's death and knew that I needed to find Jonathon and needed to bring him to justice, I turned to Abigail and looked deep into her eyes and said I am so sorry that such a thing happened to you, Abigail smiled back at me and began to fade in front of my eyes I asked her to stay but she said that she could not! now she had given me the truth she must return to the place she called paradise then with that she was gone and my search for Jonathon had begun.
Perhaps I was lucky that I went to Whitby at the festival of Samhain where the veil between this world and the spirit world is at its thinnest when the dead can walk the Earth, I know one thing I shall find Jonathon whatever it takes as he had no right to treat my dear Abigail that way and I want to make certain he never treats any other poor lady that way again.
