The Remembered

Chapter Six

November 1437

Stamford, England



'Gud morning, me luv,' Richard whispered into Elizabeth's ear.

Elizabeth rolled over and smiled and took her husband into her arms. They had been married one month and she could not have been happier. She was saddened every day that she had to send him off to the Glazier's shoppe, and she looked forward to his return each evening. On market days he was able to come and see her in the market briefly for a midday meal and he was able to accompany her and her father home in the evenings.

Today was Richard's last day as an apprentice. He hoped to soon go to Bourne and secure work and lodging and then to return for Elizabeth. During the course of the last month since their marriage they lived in a room behind the cottage of Elizabeth's parents. It was a good life, but no place to raise a family. They needed a place of their own. They were hopeful that Elizabeth would conceive a child soon. Richard and Elizabeth wanted several children of their own and were saddened that Bromley and Margaret had not been able to conceive after a few years of marriage.

'Todee is me last dee at the Glazier's shoppe,' whispered Richard with an air of excitement.

'Aye, and that is wonderful,' whispered Elizabeth with a hint of sadness, 'boot, then you will leave me.'

'Only for a brief time, me luv, nuthing can separate us for long.'

''ow soon will you return then?'

'I will either find work in Bourne right away and will be back within a week to fetch you, or per'aps they will put me to work right away and then I will be back within the fortnight. Either way, I will comb back to you soon. Nuthing shall keep me away from you. I promise.'

'I believe you, still I do nay want to let you go,' Elizabeth whispered and held him closer and closed her eyes for a time.

Richard got out of bed and dressed for the day. He then loaded the wagon for Elizabeth's father. As he ate his morning meal, he mentioned to Elizabeth that he had not seen her father yet and that he was going to have to leave for the Glazier's shoppe. Elizabeth hugged him and sent him on his way then went to the cottage to check on her father. She met her mother coming outside.

'Your father is nay well todee. Your brothers will be going to the market with you,' explained her mother.

Elizabeth went inside and spoke with her father. He looked older than she had noticed before. He lay upon a course mattress filled with straw. He smiled as she approached, coughed a little and spoke her name.

'Be still, Father,' urged Elizabeth. 'You are nay well todee.'

'Nay, I am nay well. I will be fine on the morrow. The boys will go with you to the market todee.'

'That will be fine, Father.'

'Todee is Richard's last dee at the shoppe, aye?'

'Aye, Father, todee is 'is last dee.'

'I suppose that 'e will be wanting to move to you Bourne then.'

'Aye, Father, boot I will nay go until you are well.'

'Nay, your place is with your 'usband.'

'Aye, boot you will be well soon enuf.'

'The boys can 'elp me. You will go with your 'usband.'

'Aye, the boys will 'elp,' Elizabeth assured her father.

The boys entered the cottage then and announced to Elizabeth that it was time to leave for Stamford. Elizabeth kissed her father and hugged her mother and left the cottage. It seemed odd, she thought to see her father so weak. She couldn't remember a time when she had seen him ill. She had been with him everyday of her life and had always assumed that he would be healthy and strong. Her mother too looked weak and vulnerable this morning. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth considered what it must be like for a woman to peer into a future without a husband. She was sure that her father would be well soon enough, but the thought of facing a future without a husband suddenly seemed real and frightening to her. It must be especially frightening to a woman the age of her mother. At once, Elizabeth's concern with Richard leaving to go to Bourne had a new sense of dread.

Richard walked into the Master Glazier's shoppe and looked around at the surroundings that he had become so accustomed to. He could smell the smoke from the fire and hear the billows that stoked it hot. He could smell the sheep urine that was occasionally used as a cutting agent. Long tables filled the room, and windows in various stages of completion lay upon the tables. Finished windows awaiting delivery to their final destination lined two of the walls.

'So, this is your last dee,' said a voice from behind Richard. It was the Master Glazier. 'I suppose that you did nay think that this dee wuld ever comb.'

'Aye,' replied Richard with a little wistfulness in his voice.

'Well, comb it 'as,' stated the Master Glazier. 'You are a fine glazier, Richard. I will give you a let'er of reference stating that you are a journeyman now.'

'I am grateful to you, sir.'

'I wish that I culd keep you 'ere, boot we just do nay have enuf work for me to pay you a journeyman's wage and me new apprentice begins todee,' explained the Master Glazier.

'You 'ave been a gud teacher. That is all that I needed, sir.'

Richard finished the day and welcomed the new apprentice. He felt that he saw a reflection of himself in the lad. It seemed so long ago that he had walked into this shoppe for the first time. Now he was starting a new life. It struck him how much had changed in a month, with his marriage to Elizabeth and the completion of his apprenticeship. He felt good about the future.

Richard was not able to return from the market with Elizabeth and her brothers, but back at Burghley, Richard found Elizabeth and her mother caring for her father. Her father rallied when Richard came in because he didn't want his illness to stop Richard from seeking work in Bourne.

'I am proud of you, Richard,' said Elizabeth's father. 'So now you are a journeyman. When will you leave for Bourne?'

'I will nay leave until you are bet'er,' promised Richard.

'Nay, you will nay stay. We will be fine. I am feeling bet'er already. The boys will 'elp me. It is time for them to become men,' asserted Elizabeth's father.

Richard glanced at Elizabeth and her mother. They nodded that he should obey the will of her father.

'Aye, I will leave tomorrow, boot I will be back soon enuf,' replied Richard.

That night Richard sang a song to Elizabeth that he had written for her.

"Faire Maiden, "Flower of Youth", From whence forth springth thy charm?

Commanding attention. Over none thou doth loom, But, mighty ones are disarmed.

Thy voice, as sweet as all arias sung, Calms the most covetous clamor.

A pavilion of grace to which all may come, Thy presence a delicious nectar.

How canst thou forgive this gargoyle face? Loveliness escaped me at birth.

But, I can offer thee in its place A loyalty that is beyond worth."

Elizabeth smiled and her face beamed and she asked Richard to sign it again as she hummed along. Soon, they fell asleep in each others arms.

The next morning, Richard watched Elizabeth sleep for a moment and gently kissed her on the forehead. She was so sweet and lovely he thought. She seemed so tired that he didn't want to wake her. Before he quietly left the room, he left for her a note that he had written:

"Fair Maiden, I love you with all me heart. I will be back to you soon enough. Until then, I will sing the song and think of you every day. - Richard"

A heavy fog hung over the entire area when Richard left Burghley. It was so thick that as he passed through Stamford the buildings on the side of the road were barely visible. He felt as though he were traveling through a dream. There were few people in the streets at this early hour and Richard passed though Stamford quietly without seeing anyone that he recognized.

He expected that he could be at Bourne by midday. He was concerned about the fog though because of his unfamiliarity with the area, he had never been very far outside Stamford to the north. He left Stamford by way of the Ryhill Road. Outside the towne, the fog thickened still. He thought that it was so thick that he could almost taste it. A heavy fog such as this gently and slowly deposited moisture on him. Twice he was startled by the ghostly figures of travelers that seemed to suddenly appear out of the whiteness.

After walking for about three hours he sat down beneath a tree and had a few bites of bread. He would need to conserve his bread, because he didn't have much money with him. By this time, he felt the wet and cold though his clothing.

After walking another hour, Richard began to be concerned. He should have been in Bourne by then. With fog so thick as it was, he could not be sure that he was even still traveling in the right direction. He was cautious about engaging other travelers and so he hadn't asked about the directions to Bourne of the two travelers that he had encountered. He didn't see any other option but to keep walking. After another hour of walking he suddenly realized that there were buildings on the side of the road. Could it be possible that this was Bourne? A sense of relief washed over him despite his desperate condition. He saw the faint outline of a public house sign. When he was nearly beneath it he could read 'The Bull's Head.' He didn't want to spend any of his limited funds on food, but a warm bed for the night would be a welcomed relief.

There was a warm fire inside and Richard stood next to it to warm himself for several minutes. He saw that only two tables were occupied. The proprietor knew that Richard was not from around those parts and he was not going to have any vagrants in his public house.

'Do you 'ave muney for a room or food?' asked the proprietor. 'If you nay 'ave muney, you can keep moving.'

Richard asked the proprietor whether he was in Bourne.

'Bourne!?' the proprietor laughed. 'Nay, you are in Swinstead. Bourne is 9 miles east of 'ere.'

'Swinstead?' Richard was shocked. 'The fog was thick. I must 'ave missed me road.'

Those who were seated at the tables laughed at that thought of someone being so far off track.

''ow do I get to Bourne?' Richard asked. The proprietor gave him directions to Bourne and Richard left to the sound of laughter.

Leaving the warmth and safety of the public house was not made easier when Richard saw that it had started to rain. At least the fog had lifted a little thought Richard. Swinstead was a very small village, so it was easy for Richard to find the road toward Bishopshall Wood. The road outside Swinstead was muddy as Richard walked toward the Bishopshall Wood. Soon, it started raining harder and the road was getting difficult to negotiate. It seemed that the mud grabbed on to his shoes and hung tight with each step. It was as though the road itself did not want him to go to Bourne.

It was well after dark when he reached the Grimsthorpe castle. The rain had stopped, but his clothing was still wet through to the skin. Even though Bourne was only 3 miles further down the road, Richard was exhausted and decided to try and find a place to rest and to dry out a little. He found a public house in Grimsthorpe and went inside. Richard immediately felt the warmth of the fire from across the room and he was drawn to it. Standing in front of the fire, he warmed his hands. He could smell fresh bread and he also saw potatoes being served to other guests. He was so hungry, but would not be spending his meager savings on food tonight. He would dine again on the bread that he had carried from home.

'You luk like you 'ave been oot in the weather all dee,' said the proprietor.

'Aye, I 'ave comb from Stamford,' replied Richard.

'And where might you be 'eaded?' asked the proprietor.

'I am 'eaded to Bourne,' replied Richard somewhat quietly, hoping to not get the same reaction that he had received in Swinstead.

'You seem to 'ave missed Bourne, then.'

'Aye, I got off course due to the fog.'

'Aye, a heavy fog, that it was,' observed the proprietor. 'I assume that you will be needing a room. A person shuld nay spend the night as wet as you are.'

'Aye, do you 'ave a room for the night?' asked Richard.

'I do 'ave a room, boot you will 'ave to share it.'

'I do nay mind sharing a room.'

'You will nay 'ave a fire in the room, boot you may warm yourself 'ere for as long as you wuld like.'

'I am grateful, kind sir,' said Richard.

''ow aboot a meal?'

'Nay, I 'ave sume bread with me,' stated Richard as he gazed at the food being served to others.

They settled on a price for the room and Richard continued warming himself. When he was somewhat warm and dry, he went upstairs to the room. This reminded him of sharing a room with Bromley for so many years. The room had a wooden floor, one window that over looked the road and one bed. The bed was already occupied. Richard didn't like the idea of sharing a bed, especially with a stranger. He had never shared a bed with anyone other than Elizabeth. Although it was common for travelers to share a single room and bed, Richard didn't like it. Richard could tell that the person in the bed was of ample proportions, but there was still a small slice of bed on the edge that was available, so Richard laid his coat on the floor and crawled into bed quietly. Before doing so, he tied the string of his pouch to the middle finger of his left hand. This was the only money that he had and he didn't wish to 'lose' it. The bed had one thin blanket that was slightly larger than the person already beneath it, so Richard had removed his own woolen blanket out of his satchel to use also. His blanket was still damp, but being wool it would still keep him warm. The mattress of straw felt so good to Richard.

He would have fallen asleep right away, but his mind was on Elizabeth. He had thought of her most of the day. It was the thought of her and his duty to care for her that had kept his feet moving one in front of the other all day long. Now he wondered whether he had done the right thing in leaving her. He realized that he could not have brought her with him, walking in the sort of weather that he had been in all day was no place for a woman he thought. Besides that, he didn't have enough money to purchase food for both of them and also she was needed at home to help care for her father and see that the boys get the wagon and goods to market. Oh, how he missed her. His last thoughts for the evening were of her as he said a silent prayer asking the Lord God to watch over her.

Richard woke with a start the next morning. He was the only one in the bed now. He instinctively checked for the pouch tied to his finger. It was there. Next he checked for his woolen blanket. It too was there. He opened his eyes to check for his coat that he had left on the floor and saw a man of portly appearance standing near the bed putting on the robes of a monk.

'Greetings Traveler,' smiled the monk cheerfully. 'I trust that you slept well. Give thanks for the dee that God 'as given you.'

'Aye, if it is nay raining, it is a beaut'iful dee indeed,' replied Richard as he tried to focus his eyes and clear his head.

'And whot brings you to Grimsthorpe, Traveler?'

'I am on me way to Bourne.'

'Bourne is only two 'ours easy walking 'ence, why did you nay go there last night?' asked the monk.

'After walking in the fog and rain all dee, I culd nay continue,' replied Richard.

'Aye, I am on me way to Bourne meself and culd nay continue walking in the rain. Me knees are nay as strong as they once were,' said the monk as he sat down on the only chair in the room and began to rub his knees. 'So I stopped 'ere last night. God led me to this place,'

Richard was up now and had his coat on and had gathered his satchel.

'Will you be on your way then so airly?' asked the monk. 'Will you nay break your fast before you go?'

'I 'ave lit'le muney for food and whot I do 'ave must be saved. I will eat the remainder of the bread that I brought with me,' replied Richard.

Richard was a little surprised at how easily he spoke to the monk. It seemed that the monk was able to extract any information from him that he wanted and Richard willingly conveyed it. But Richard felt completely at ease with this stranger.

'Please, 'ave a meal with me,' offered the monk 'and I will pay the bill.'

''ow 'as a monk muney?' asked Richard, but then he felt that the question was impertinent. 'Please forgive me, I shuld nay 'ave asked.'

The monk laughed at the suggestion that the question was improper. 'God 'as been gud. Shall we 'ave food together?'

Richard realized that his stomach was demanding attention and he thought that a hot meal would be a wonderful start to the day. He would be in Bourne soon enuf. 'Aye, kind sir, I am grateful to you.'

Richard and the monk sat down at a table near the fire and a window. It was a beautiful day. Richard wondered why it was that yesterday could not have been so pleasant.

As they ate, the monk asked Richard why he was going to Bourne. When Richard replied that he was a journeyman glazier and that he had heard that glass work was being done at the Bourne Abbey, the monk replied, 'Nay me sone, that work is completed. You see, I am from the Bourne Abbey and have been on a trip for the Abbey to Grantham for a week. The work on the windows was completed the week before I left.'

This came as a shock to Richard. What was he to do now he wondered. There would be no point in going back to Stamford so soon, he needed to find work.

'Are you sure?' questioned Richard and immediately he felt that he had overstepped his bounds by appearing to not believe the word of a monk. 'Soory, I do nay mean to doubt you. It is just so disappointing to 'ear this news.'

'Aye, I am sure,' stated the monk. Then sensing Richard's plight, he suggested, 'Comb with me to the Abbey. You can see for yourself and maybe we can learn of work being dune elsewhere.'

'I am grateful. I am so close to Bourne now, that I may as well do as you say.'

'It is set'eld then,' exclaimed the monk. 'I will also see that you 'ave fresh provisions before you leave Bourne. We wuld nay send you away withoot provision.'

Richard was grateful and felt better about the situation.

The monk made a good companion for the short remainder of the trip to Bourne. He seemed to talk the entire way. Richard didn't remember much of what the monk said, but he would never forget about the glazier that the monk said had fallen from the abbey while placing a window. The glazier had died. Richard had never heard of such a thing and wondered about the danger associated with placing windows in high locations.

Richard had never been inside an abbey. The first thing that he noticed when they arrived was that everyone seemed to have a job to do and a place to be. They arrived just prior to the midday meal and all of the monks were gathering from about the abbey and coming in from the nearby fields. They gathered in a large hall filled with lines of tables and benches. The meal was to be bread and meat. The meat was a treat for Richard since he didn't often get the chance to eat such a wonderful meal. Before they ate, someone read a prayer in Latin that Richard did not understand. Following the prayer, they ate in silence.

Richard was introduced to the monk that had overseen the work on the windows. The monk showed him the windows in the west end of the chapel. Richard could observe from his position on the floor of the chapel that the work was exquisite. The scenes centered around the life of Christ and His parables. The light hadn't yet found full entrance through the window and yet the colors were brilliant. Richard felt that he could observe the window for hours.

According to the monk, the glaziers had moved on to Boston for work on St. Botolph's Church. Richard was disappointed indeed. Boston was another very long day walk at best or two days walk if the weather didn't hold up. He considered what this meant for the commitment that he had made Elizabeth to be gone no longer than necessary. Even if he found work there and didn't start right away, it was a day or two there, at least two days home; and added to the two days that he had already been gone, was about a week total that he would be away from Elizabeth (counting the Lord's day of no traveling). But what choice did he have? That night he prayed that Elizabeth would be cared for and that he might yet find work in Boston.

Richard was up early the next morning, anxious to get on his way to Boston. The monks were very kind and loaded him with as much food as he could carry and with an extra blanket. To further conserve his money, Richard planned to sleep in the woods rather than find other lodgings. He hoped and prayed that the weather would hold good.

Richard made a good distance that day. The weather was good and his strength held up due to the abundance of food that was given to him by the monks. He stayed in the woods a few miles outside Boston. He found an old log with a cut away bank beneath it. He was able to hollow the bank out a little more and found some dried leaves for a bed. It started raining shortly after he completed making his shelter. He gave thanks for the shelter and prayed for Elizabeth and her father.

Richard had planned to arise before the sun was up, but was discouraged from doing so by the continued rain and cold. The extra blanket had been a welcomed asset and even more so since it was dry. His own blanket was still damp from the rain the day before. He was not looking forward to another walk in the rain. Fortunately, it would be a short walk into Boston. He ate some food before leaving the shelter and set a brisk pace despite the mud.

It appeared that today was going to be a market day in Boston because already there were plenty of travelers on the road with Richard. Most were farmers or craftsman with wagon's loaded. Some were wealthy individual's on horseback. Each time a wagon approached from behind, Richard stepped to the side of the road to let it pass. The mud and water were even deeper on the side of the road. After several wagons passed, one driver asked Richard whether he would like a ride. Gratefully, Richard climbed into the wagon. As he rode along, he wondered whether today was a market day in Stamford and whether Elizabeth was going to the market. It seemed odd to him that he had to consider in his mind something that he should have instinctively known. After all, he had been in Stamford all of his life, he should intrinsically know whether it was a market day. He reasoned that the unusual nature of the last couple of days was a little disorienting.

Although a light rain was falling, it was easy to see St. Botolph's in the distance. The Fens' terrain was vast and flat, and the church was very large for a parish church. It rose from the landscape like a large, bare tree trunk in the distance.

Richard arrived in Boston about the time that the towne was waking up. Boston was a busy towne, more crowded and busy than Stamford. Being close to the North Sea and with a tidal river to provide easy docking and passage, Boston was a prime location for trade. Richard would have liked to have visited the market, but with limited funds and a pressing need for work, he headed straight to St. Botolph's.

Richard took courage when he neared the church because it was clear that glass work was being done. He could see a number of openings that were void of glass and other areas that had ample missing sections that would need to be replaced.

Soon, he found the Glazier's shoppe near the church and went inside. The heat of the fire was a most welcoming feeling. The smells and sights of the shoppe made him feel instantly at home.

'Oy, I am Richard Easton of Stamford,' he said to one of the workers who was giving orders to another worker. 'Where can I find the Master?'

'I am 'e, whot do you want,' said the Master Glazier without so much as looking over his shoulder.

'I am a journeyman glazier and need work,' replied Richard.

The master glazier finished stretching the came that he was working on, laid down his tools and turned slowly to face Richard. Richard was surprised at the seemingly ancient age of the master. He had assumed that the master was bent over the table to be closer to his work, but the master didn't straighten as he faced Richard. Richard felt a little uncomfortable towering over the master in such a way so he took a step backward.

'Are you any gud?'

'Aye, and I have a let'er from the master in Stamford,' replied Richard and produced the letter from his satchel.

The master glazier studied the letter closely, but Richard noticed that the letter was upside down.

'Take that table over there,' said the Master pointing to a table in the corner. 'The pat'ern is on that roll in the corner.'

'I am grateful to you, sir,' said Richard and went to the table and started work.

Richard was so glad to have the work and he was so thankful to have a trade that was indoors and out of the rain. The day passed quickly.

At the end of the day, Richard approached the master.

'Sir, I am grateful for the work.'

'Aye, you do gud work. We are be'ind schedule on this job. I am glad that you came when you did.'

'And I am grateful, sir. I do need to return to Stamford and fetch me wife. It wuld only take a few dees.'

'Nay, we are too far be'ind schedule I need you 'ere for at least a fortnight before I can let you go.'

Richard considered his options, which were limited. There was likely no other work in the townes nearby. A fortnight would not be too long. He had let Elizabeth know that he could possibly be gone a fortnight. Of course, this meant that he would likely be gone a week and a fortnight.

'Aye, it is agreed then,' Richard replied with a little hesitation.

Richard then asked whether he might spend a night or two in the shoppe, the master agreed.

The next several days passed slowly despite the fact that Richard was busy with his work. When he wasn't concentrating on the delicate cuts necessitated by the pattern that he was working, he was thinking of Elizabeth. Was she at the market? Was she preparing a meal? Was she washing clothes? Outside of sleeping, the only time that he was certain that he knew where she was and what she was doing was on the Lord's day. That Sunday in church he imagined that she was sitting next to him. He felt comforted.

At the end of the fortnight, Richard received his pay and bade leave of the master, promising to return within the week. The master was very pleased with his work and insisted that Richard make haste to return.