FABLE OF A CUMBRIAN LASS

Year 1864

The Lake District in the North Pennines Area abounds in natural beauty and exotic landscapes. The village, on the confluence of South Tyne, is remote and sparsely populated. It is surrounded by some of the highest fells in the Pennine Chain, those which water the great trio of northern rivers, the Tyne, Wear and Tees.

Alston, at an altitude of a thousand feet is said to be the highest market town inEngland. The rugged and diverse land of Alston Moor is rich in mineral wealth and, therefore, the richest lead mining areas have been set up there. A single line stretches from Alston Station in Cumbria to Kirkhaugh in Northumberland, carrying passengers who earn their bread from the flourishing mines.

In a small village near the Moor, lived Angela, a divine beauty, a wondrous art of nature, those angelic eyes, luscious lips, golden brown locks and saintly nature- a stark contrast to her impoverished household, having debilitated parents and languid siblings.

A despondent damsel, Angela, on her lonesome way to the fields for routine chores, used to spend some time sitting on the benches of Alston Station, waiting for the steam engine to arrive at sharp seven in the morning.

She observed the swarm of the boisterous mob who came from the neighbouring villages of Blagill and Ayle, to work in the mines.

The cacophony of wheels and unfettered discourses of that particular hour invigorated her dull spirits, illumined her bleak existence. She felt some capacity for hope which provided her with a sense of destination and the energy to get started for the day.

A mid-September morning, the rain had been coming in bits and starts, sometimes it sprinkled, sometimes it showered and at times it thrashed along so thick with a blast of wind. At quarter past seven, after the usual crowd almost vacated the station, Angela rose languorously from her seat to proceed, when suddenly, she collided with a violent rusher, her lunch pack scattering all its belongings. 

With annoyance, she looked at the stranger, her eyes meeting his, for the first time. One could hear the roar of thunder in the northern sky, followed by heavy downpour. A very shabby and dirty ruffian, staring at her, a heavenly beauty against scrofulous society. He stood in awe-struck wonder.

The first encounter was like the realization of an imagination that had always haunted her. She felt a kind of inner tranquillity from her succeeding passions. While he was helping her to collect the strewed items from the ground, she felt the touch of his coarse hands, the first ever virile stroke on her delicate soul.

As for him, his mind was set aflame. A winged fairy took him out of his ignominious domain and flew him to the moonlit orchards in an infinitesimal fairy land, to shower upon him amorous propositions to mark an entree into a delightful world of love, which, he was so far, unaware of.

“Hurry up Ellison”, a voice called from behind, “we’re getting late for work. The gate will be shut and we have to spend the day out in the cold, and there is no train down till evening”. It was Jennie, a fellow passenger.

Their reverie was fragmented into pieces. He jerked back to staunch reality, but couldn’t take his eyes off Angela, a look eloquent with compassion. In his twenty-two years, he had never encountered such a celestial beauty.

The rain beat on her head like silver liquid drops.

She, too, wished to hold him back for some time, wanting to speak, but he instantly rushed out of the station.

The mischievous Cupid’s arrow pierced through the hearts of Ellison and Angela. Their insignificant existence made them feel an innate need for redundant love.  Their impatience translated itself into an urge for mutual possession.                                                 

Arrival of the regular train marked the dawn of a new era. At the station, met daily, the lovable duo, welcoming the thunder and lightning with a sweet exchange of smile, a shy look of hesitance, a pre-meditated approach followed by a blithesome saunter to the workstation.

They passed through the lush green steeps, the cobbled streets, the hidden courtyards and the quaint old shops, with the accompaniment of the melodious note of the moorland birds. Even during his days of rest, he came just to meet her, to be united in the lonesome valleys, amidst the sweet essence of alpine flowers.

Her features were like a poet’s lyrical artistry, which filtered into his mind. The look in her eyes entrapped his desire to be devoured in totality. She could feel the pulse of his allurement and reciprocated with tantamount eagerness. The splendour of the intoxicated touch of lips, the holy fornication of virgin souls, each approach was a unique exploration of mind and body, the absolutely inseparable entities.

The valleys and shores reverberated with the convivial atmosphere at their union - the happiest couple ever, longing to be tied forever in matrimonial sermon. Seeking the blessings of the Almighty, he vowed to marry her in the succeeding year, after the Twelfth Night celebration of Christmas.

The third week of December, the festive fervour was obviously apparent among the villagers. The market place was over-crowded with vibrant multitude. He promised to meet her there, to offer her a Christmas gift, the first Christmas that she ever anticipated to celebrate after nineteen years of her birth. She was overjoyed with enthusiasm and was anxiously waiting for her beloved.

She waited all day, watching the frenzied crowd squandering with excitement. With the fall of evening, despair of the world grew in her again. She became weary with anxiety and fear. The concluding day brought to her mind the unconquerable premonition of an abominable weather.

Unfortunately, Ellison had not arrived. With a heavy heart, she marched homeward, expecting to see him the following day. Six days elapsed in utter disbelief and worriment. Amidst the jubilant masses, she sat alone at a corner, without the sight or sound of beauty, contemplating the mysterious absence of Ellison. There was still no trace of him, nor anyone at the station knew about his whereabouts. She was desperate. Her spirit grew numb with the fear of the unknown. She bitterly sobbed.

It was the seventh day of her consistent presence at the station during the morning rush hours. The usual crowd resumed work after the celebration. Ellison was not to be found anywhere.

 A pathetic figure she was, hovering around the platform every day, with the single hope that Ellison would certainly keep his promise. With the lapse of time, her faith in him gradually germinated a powerful resistance to impending jeopardy. As she rose from her seat, she felt two amicable hands firmly gripping her shoulders. She turned around to recognize a familiar face. It was Jennie, Ellison’s friend and co-passenger who worked in the mines. She drew closer to Angela.

With dolorous eyes she gazed at Angela’s intent countenance, stretched her arms to embrace the wretched woman. With a morose and stammering voice she mourned the stupefying tragedy of Ellison’s untimely demise by a fatal accident, just the day preceding their meeting at the marketplace.

The sky was overcast by dark, ‘noctilucent’ clouds. The archfiend seized her blissful world in an instant. Perhaps her meeting with Ellison was just a chimera. She stood still with eyes tumescent, lips parched and gaped. Jennie’s voice jerked her out of  trance.

She said that when his incapacitated body was brought to the village, he was breathing his last. He significantly uttered Angela’s name to convey that she must accomplish his last wish.

His death was not the end, but an entry to the empyrean world of immortality. His heavenly abode would be illuminated with her incessant smile. Though they were corporeally disunited, yet his spiritual self was embedded in her being. His everlasting love would be her protective shield forever.

Jennie then lifted a small packet out of a sooty bag. She unfolded the wrap, holding up a glittering metal of gold, a wedding ring, the Christmas gift for Angela.

Having placed the ring on her shivering palm, she kissed Angela’s frosted forehead and reluctantly proceeded towards the mines, leaving behind the crestfallen damsel in petrified quiescence.