The Lady of Harrow

Submitted into Contest #221 in response to: Write a story about someone trying to raise the dead.... view prompt

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Horror Historical Fiction Fantasy

14 November 1902


Dear Thaddius

I thank you so kindly for your last letter, as well as the wreath you so thoughtfully sent. The staff and I were sorry to not have the pleasure of your presence during these solemn times. Of course it would be unforgivable to have asked you to make the journey back from America, even under such grave circumstances. 

The memorial was as pleasant as such things can be. It was an unusually bright and clear day here in London, and we were fortunate enough for the Harrow council to suspend the church service for All Souls Day at Saint Mary’s. The Harrow residents were of course equally as grieved to have lost her Ladyship, and there was a large turnout of residents along the procession across the hill. The Harrow School even paused their schedule for the day out of respect, an almost unheard of turn of events. Such a tragic irony that her ladyship should be put to rest on November 1st of all days. But alas, if any soul were in need to be remembered, I’m certain God would see fit to save the day for hers.

Lord Wentworth, I’m sure, also missed you dearly. He has, of course, been much preoccupied these last two weeks since the passing of Lady Wentworth. His mourning is ongoing and I have instructed the house staff to allow him his respite and dignity. He has taken to spending his days away in the east wing in solitude. I can only imagine the heartbreak he endures, losing such a caring, young and beloved wife.

To answer your concerns, I have had all members of the house thoroughly inspected by the Harrow physician for any signs of tuberculosis, and so far we all seem to have been spared the cursed disease. All inquiries are ongoing, of course, as to the origin of her Ladyship's malady. But due to her tireless work in the community it could be almost impossible to tell where she ultimately became infected. But I know, Thaddius, ever the Doctor yourself, that I should do my best to put your mind to ease that we are taking such precautions so seriously.

I do worry for Lord Wentworth however. His solitude shows no signs of abating. I did manage to coax him out of the house only yesterday to accompany me for a walk upon the hill. I fear these are the last days of any clear weather we shall be seeing until spring arrives. At first he seemed somewhat invigorated by the fresh air. The view from Harrow Hill was splendid as always on such a clear day. You can actually see the progress being made on the London city docklands with the help of a good lens. Of course such heavy industry is indeed changing the shape of our beloved city. I’m sure you shall find it a different world upon your eventual return. You must tell me more of your experiences in Boston, And I’m certain it will do his Lordship wonders to put his mind to other, grander preoccupations. In the meantime I shall do my best to keep Lord Wentworth in better spirits.

Please find enclosed a sealed letter of regards from his Lordship.

Your friend, always. 

Jeffry Makesmith





21 November 1902


Dear Jeffry

It was a pleasure to hear from you. As I write to you now I am surrounded by the approaching festivities of Thanksgiving here in Massachusetts. It’s a splendid American tradition that I will be delighted to regale you with upon my return next year. My work, however, allows for no such rest, and I have been busy all week attending the physicians lecturing hall at Harvard. A remarkable institution indeed, although it does instill in me a sense of nostalgia for the old halls of Harrow School.

I dearly wish it were under better circumstances that I write to you old friend, I was so deeply moved by the passing of Lady Wentworth. Unfortunately my schedule here could not afford my time to make the journey home. I know that there are little words of comfort that can dispel such tragedy, but I give my word that upon my return I shall make it my priority to visit Harrow and speak with his Lordship and yourself. These are sorrowful times indeed, and there is no better remedy than the company of old friends. And I shall stake my professional merit as a doctor on that claim.

I would go into further detail for you as to the daily routine here in Boston, it is a marvelous city and so full of potential. However I must be brief in my correspondence. In truth, Jeffry, I find this a difficult letter to write. I have always been certain of your loyalty to his Lordship, and am therefore positive that you did not read his letter that you sent to me along with your own. And I shall not breach such trust any further by discussing its contents with you. I only ask, however, that you keep a watchful eye on his Lordship for the time being. I sense his grief is deeper than you know. Be a friend to him, Jeffry, as you have always been to him, and I as well.

Sincerely

Thaddius Birchcroft





21 November 1902


Dear Miles

Words cannot begin to express the sorrow and regret I have for the passing of your lovely wife Emelia. She was a treasure and a wonderful woman of such kindness. To be taken from you, and from all of those she dedicated her time to helping at such a young age is nothing short of cruel. I am also deeply sorry that I could not be there in person to give you comfort in such times. My work here in Boston is taxing. A poor excuse for old friends such as you, I know, but please believe me that it was with great heartache that I was not able to make the journey back to London.

Miles, I have read your request. I must begin by stating that I find such morbid fascinations, especially in times as these, somewhat disturbing. While I understand that you are grieving, I am certain that there are far healthier interests that you should be pursuing right now. If I were there, as your dear and old friend, and also as a doctor, I would be compelled to request that you desist in such interests, and focus your attention to your staff, and to the community work that must have been left adrift by the loss of Emelia. In short, I simply do not approve. 

But, as you so pointedly, and I shall say, curtly, made apparent to me in your letter, I am still your friend. And I do owe you a great many things. So I will indulge your requests. But please, Miles, I ask you to speak with your physician. Or at the very least, to confide these interests with Jeffry. He is a dear friend also, and I know he is very concerned for you. I fear your grieving must be ever so encompassing to have taken your mind to these dark fascinations. 

I have made details of the records you asked for, and of those I thought pertinent also, from the Massachusetts state house. I must admit, my status here in the city did allow me access as you had predicted it would. But I was uncomfortable with the thought that I should be witnessed accessing the materials that you requested. Someone in my profession cannot be seen to be taking an interest in these matters, even if they were to be purely historical in nature. The events of this area of America around those times are, even now, a subject of some taboo. The hysteria and un-before-seen rejection of science and reason that accompanied these tragedies is not to be taken lightly by those in my community who seek to put such affairs behind us, and into the annals of history where they belong.

As per your request, I have also tracked down several medical journals that may have been relevant to the time from the university's archives. Although I doubt that they will be of much use to you. Whatever was done to those poor women had absolutely no relevance to the field of medicine, and I find it distasteful to entertain such notions.

I will not ask for any further detail as to the nature of your sudden interest in these matters, but I will once more request that you seek some assistance with your grief. I do wish I was there to give you the comfort that I fear you so deeply need right now. In the meantime, please send word to me of lighter things, including your Christmas preparations, and the Harrow itinerary for the festivities. I miss this time of the year in London, especially on the hill. 


Your Dearest Friend

Thaddius Birchcroft





12 December 1902


Dear Thaddius

It is in an earnest plea that I write to you, even now I suspect that this attempt may be too late for your intervention, but I find myself at a loss as to who to reach out to for help in these matters. My old contact Chief Constable Higson in the North London constabulary has been simply overwhelmed since the riots in Watford earlier this year, and the house staff have all but left now, quite frankly out of fear or shame of his Lordships recent actions.

Lord Watford has, and I cannot find any more permissive way of speaking of his manner, gone quite mad. I understand that his grief has been overwhelming. But these things he speaks of, these procedures he seems to be preparing for… Thaddius, it is nothing short of insanity and blasphemy. When he is not locked away pouring over tattered journals from the history museums archives, he speaks about such monstrosities as witchcraft, and the burning of women of power. He seems to have dedicated himself to the ideas of some puritanical cult. Thaddius, I believe he thinks that there are actual historical records of people, particularly young women, being raised from the dead by means of rites and ungodly acts. I fear he has truly lost all rational sense, and even worse, that he plans to desecrate the burial site of Emelia. 

I reach out to you in the hope that you may be able to force him to see some sense, or at least to contact some of your peers here at the London medical society. I do not wish to see him dragged off to Holloway Sanitarium. But I simply have no ideas about what course of action I can take. Please Thaddius, I beg you, do all you can to help him and put an end to this madness. I think there may still be some time before he intends to carry out… whatever it may be that he is planning. I heard him speak of affronting God on a holy day. I can only assume he means to do something unspeakable on Christmas.

I desperately want to pass word along to the parish at St Marys up on the hill, but I fear that they would report such heresy to the wrong people and his Lordship would find himself in chains. Until I hear from you, or your colleagues in London, I shall do all I can to keep his behavior out of sight from the public.


Jeffry Makesmith





Excerpt from page three of the London Times - December 27th 1902


MURDER AT WENTWORTH MANOR


The borough of Harrow was in shock over Christmas following the discovery of the body of Jeffry Makesmith, private valet and keeper of the estate to Lord Wentworth. No persons have yet been identified as the suspect in his killing, and the whereabouts of Lord Miles Wentworth are as of yet unknown.

This death follows the tragic passing of Lord Wentworths bride Lady Emelia Wentworth earlier this year. Her death was seen as a tragic loss for the community and affected associations of the Harrow area, in which Lady Wentworth was a regular benefactor. So far we have had no comment from the Harrow constabulary as to whether these deaths are related, or to the safety of his Lordship.

The Times also reports of rumours of a disturbance at the church of St Marys In The Fields at Harrow Hill. The churchyard has been sealed off by the police for the time being under unknown circumstances. A local physician, who reached out to The Times for comment, speculated that there were concerns of an outbreak of Tuberculosis among the parishioners over the Christmas service, and that many have since fallen ill.


October 25, 2023 09:55

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1 comment

Austin Baker
22:14 Nov 02, 2023

I love the epistolary style you used for this short story! It was really engaging.

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