The Rufford Rose
Page 9
Passing the Mere on his way Cuthbert stopped to watch some birds on the water, dipping their heads to feed on the weed and small fish which grew there. He had heard some of the men who lived nearby say that there was good fishing to be had and that eels were particularly plentiful. Flocks of ducks and geese were hunted and the occasional swan provided a good meal, whilst on shore there were hordes rabbits for the pot, provided the landowner didn’t catch you. Poaching was forbidden and the penalties, if caught, were harsh, but many of the men provided extra for their families with a bit of free food. If a big family was going to be living at the new hall there may be opportunities for some to legitimately provide food for the kitchens from the Mere and its surrounds. The land may be low lying and poorly drained in places but it could provide employment for many of the villagers when there was a big house to provide for. Cuthbert had always lived near a town and had never really thought about where people living in the country found food. He supposed there were village markets but there would not be shops and stalls every day as in Chester. It was a quieter yet harder way of life in the country.
As he turned towards the lodgings where he was staying he saw Will coming towards him with a girl beside him. She was giggling and looking at Will shyly. She looked young but Will was steering her towards a coppice by the water. Cuthbert thought his behaviour typical of the man he knew, nothing done openly, Will wouldn’t want a courtship and marriage, just a quick liaison, soon done, soon forgotten, move on. He felt sorry for the girl. How long before she realised Will was only after one thing. The girl’s giggles were smothered as the pair disappeared among the trees and Cuthbert hurried past. It was none of his business.
He was almost asleep when he heard someone come into the hut where several of the men slept. Whoever it was was trying to move about quietly but judging by the bumps and curses from the occupants of the beds the person was a little worse for wear and was stumbling his way to his bed in the far corner. It was Will, of course, who eventually reached his own bed and fell across it and within minutes was snoring. Whatever he had been doing in the copse, he was getting a good night’s sleep now.
Next morning, after breaking his fast with a bowl of thick porridge cooked by one of the men in a great pot over the fire Cuthbert made his way to the Hall, ready to begin his day’s work. There seemed to be more activity than usual as he drew nearer, men carrying wood and tools in and out of the place with purpose, but not actually doing much work yet.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked one of the lads as he hurried by carrying a ladder.
‘Abel’s all of a fuss,’ was the strange reply. ‘He’s had a message that the young Master is visiting today with his wife, wants to see how the building’s coming along so Abel’s in a foul mood.’
‘Why should that be? Surely he would welcome an interest in the progress of the work.’
‘Not Abel,’ said another of the builders who had overheard the conversation. ‘I’ve worked with Abel for over fifteen years and he likes to be left to get on with the job he’s good at. That way he knows what he’s doing, but this young Lord? He wants to be in on every stage, see what’s being done, but worst of all, he keeps asking for changes and alterations to the original plans. Abel hates that. You’ll have heard about the fuss over the fireplace? Well, if he’d had his way it would not have been built. Abel don’t like new ideas.’ He spat on the ground. ‘Leave Abel to get on with the job and it will be a good ‘un. Upset him and we’ll all suffer his tongue. You’ll see.’
It was just what Cuthbert had heard before and he wondered what would happen today if the young Lord started changing things again. He made his way over to the shelter where he had been cutting wood for the boards of the floors in the upper part of the west wing. Best to keep out of Abel’s way he decided but it wasn’t to be. He had only laid three boards when he heard someone coming up the ladder to the first floor. It was Abel and he was not pleased.
‘Who told you to do this room?’ he snapped.
‘You did, yesterday. You said you wanted this one completed so that Alfric could start on the wainscot.’
‘Well get on with it then and be quick about it.’ Abel would not admit his mistake under any circumstances. He watched Cuthbert nail another board in place. ‘Don’t go wasting nails either. You don’t need that many if you put them in properly.’
Cuthbert did not rise to this challenge. He knew Abel was trying to provoke him, make him argue back but Cuthbert ignored him. Abel turned to go then said,
‘You stay up here until I tell you to come down. I don’t want you wandering around the site today. Keep out of my way.’
With that he descended the ladder and left him. Cuthbert knew exactly what had been left unsaid. ‘Keep away from the master. I don’t want him to meet you.’ By keeping Cuthbert occupied up here Abel would prevent any questions about his work, especially his carving, which Cuthbert knew he was being kept from on purpose. He was prepared to wait though. Enough of the other workers knew about his reason for being brought to Rufford, someone was bound to mention it sometime and Abel would have some explaining to do if there was none of his work to be seen.
Not long afterwards Cuthbert heard the sounds of several horses outside. He went to the window space and looked down on a busy scene. Several horses had arrived carrying not just the young master, but quite a party with him. There was a lady he presumed was his wife, a small boy, probably his son, a lady companion, and several other men, including, to his surprise, Lord Derby who he recognised from the Abbey. Well, this was really going to upset Abel, he thought. One visitor was bad enough but a whole party of inquisitive people would be unbearable to the Master carpenter. Cuthbert couldn’t help smiling at what was probably going through Abel’s mind. If they all started making comments and criticising the work so far, or offering suggestions for changes, Abel would be unable to hold his temper. There was trouble brewing. Well, he would keep out of it and see what happened. He had enough wood in the room to complete the floor without having to go back to the wood store.
It was nearly an hour later when Cuthbert sensed there was someone standing behind him. He turned and looked straight into the face of the small boy he had seen arriving earlier.
‘What are you doing?’ asked the child.
‘I’m laying the floor,’ replied Cuthbert, sitting back on his heels.
‘Why?’
‘We have to put a floor down or we couldn’t walk about in the room, could we?’
‘Are you making all the floors for the whole house?’ asked the child.
Cuthbert laughed.
‘No, there are lots of carpenters working here.’
‘What’s a car … carden … too?’
‘Car … pen … ter.’ repeated Cuthbert, slowly.
‘Carpenter. What else does a car … pen … ter do?’
‘We help to build the house, we make all the wooden parts. See, over there, the wooden parts make the walls and the gaps are filled in with a sort of plaster. And look up at the ceiling, that’s lots of wood too, and the doors and the shutters on the windows. When the house is finished we will have to make all the furniture too, all the tables and chairs and stools and shelves and cupboards and beds and chests. They are all made of wood.’
The child looked at Cuthbert with his big eyes.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Cuthbert. What’s yours?’
‘I’m Thomas. My father is building this house so that we can come and live here. Will you live here too?’
‘No, Thomas. When the work is finished I will go somewhere else and build another house.’
The solemn little boy took all this in, then nodded.
‘What are you doing up here, anyway?’ asked Cuthbert. ‘Won’t your mother and father wonder where you are?’
‘They were too busy talking to the man. I wanted to know who was banging up here.’
‘I’d better take you down again before they miss you,’ sa
id Cuthbert. He ushered the child towards the doorway. ‘How old are you, Thomas?’
‘I’m five,’ was the reply. ‘How old are you?’
Cuthbert smiled at the candid question, typical of a child.
‘Oh, I’m a bit older than that. Now, careful on these steps. They’re not quite finished yet.’
To his surprise, Thomas put his hand in his as they went carefully down the steep stairway which was without a handrail on the side. At the bottom Thomas kept hold of his hand and they went through a doorway that led into the Great Hall.
‘Thomas! Where have you been?’ cried the lady standing by the young master. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere. I told you to stay with Martha. You naughty boy.’
‘I wanted to see who was banging,’ explained Thomas, perfectly reasonably. ‘This is Cuthbert. He’s a car … pen … ter. He has been telling me how he is building the house. He’s my friend.’ The child beamed up at Cuthbert, still holding his hand.
‘Well, you are back now and you must say thank you to Cuthbert for looking after you but you must stay with us now.’
‘He was perfectly safe, my lady, I brought him down the stairs to make sure he didn’t fall.’ Cuthbert released his hand, touched his forelock to the party and was turning to go.
‘Wait one moment,’ called a voice from the other end of the room. ‘Cuthbert, you say?’
The man Cuthbert had recognised as Lord Derby strode across the bare floor to join the group.
‘Robert, my friend, this is the man I mentioned to you, from Whalley Abbey.’
‘Whalley Abbey?’ Lord Hesketh wrinkled his brow, trying to place him. ‘You mean the woodcarver?’
‘Yes, I sent him to you. Have you not met him before?’
‘I don’t remember, I may have done, there are a lot of carpenters and stonemasons and such like working here. I can’t be expected to remember them all. Wasn’t there something special about him?’
‘Robert, really! He’s is the most marvellous worker of wood, made a box for their library and figures in their choir.’
‘Oh, him! Of course, yes, I do remember something about it. It had quite gone out of my head.’
‘I hope that he is doing some wonderful work for you here. Cuthbert, have you anything you can show us now.’
Cuthbert shifted his feet uncomfortably.
‘Well, I haven’t actually done any carving yet. I have been doing regular carpentry work in the construction of the house so far, beams and floors and doors and so on.’
‘What? A man of your talent is wasted on plain woodwork. Master Builder?’
He looked around for Abel who had been standing at the end of the Great Hall listening to the conversation and going redder and redder in the face, his fury barely under control. He stepped forward.
‘Yes, my Lord?’ he said.
‘Why isn’t Cuthbert employed in the decoration of this house? I sent him here expressly to use his considerable talent to the betterment of the property, not to waste it building walls and laying floors. He is far too good to be doing that. There are plenty of other excellent men to do the basic work. Cuthbert is different.’
‘I … I’m sorry, my lord, but we have to build the house before we can decorate it.’ Abel snapped and immediately regretted the tone of voice he used the moment the words were out of his mouth. He had not intended to sound churlish.
Lord Derby raised his eyebrows and stared at the man.
‘May I remind you that you are employed to build this house using the plans approved by Sir Robert here. You have worked on many houses in the north of England that I know of and everyone says you are the best but I do expect you to listen to those who pay you and if a person of my standing sends you workmen of great talent specifically to do certain work I expect that order to be obeyed. I understand from Robert, here, that you quibbled about the building of the great fireplace and chimney? Is that correct?’
‘Yes, sir, only, I don’t hold with these new-fangled ideas, not when I have no proof that they work. I have never built one, never seen one. If it didn’t work, and I doubt it will, then I would get the blame for it. Sir.’ He stumbled to silence, knowing he had gone too far now in his temper.
‘So, you do question your betters? I, also, have never seen such a fireplace but I have heard reports of them from among acquaintances and they assure me that they do work, and very well indeed. Are you telling me that you do not accept new ideas? Ideas which may be an improvement on the old?’
‘Yes, my Lord, I mean, no.’ Abel was letting his personal feelings cloud his judgement and was regretting having spoken so rashly. He did not want to be dismissed from the job but he wasn’t used to being questioned and criticised and was not sure how to handle it. He took a deep breath.
‘I am a master builder with thirty years behind me of building houses like this all over the north of England. Nobody has ever questioned my work or stated their dissatisfaction with it, and no one has ever told me to do things in any way different to what I’ve allus done. If a thing works I don’t hold wi’ change, never have. Young Master here keeps coming and telling me he wants this changed and that moved and the other done another way. It upsets my plans, upsets my workers, upsets me. If you ain’t satisfied wi’ my work, I’ll go and leave it to them what knows better.’ He looked defiantly at the two lords. He’d really burned his bridges now, and no mistake, he thought.
Lord Derby stared at him for a long moment, noting the abject look, the feet shuffling in the muddy floor, the dropped shoulders.
‘I am not suggesting that Lord Robert should dismiss you. There is no doubting your experience and ability but all of us have to recognise that new ideas are sometimes better. Good God, man, if we didn’t accept change we would all still be living in caves and hovels! All I am asking is that you follow your plans but learn to accept changes which are usually for the better. Robert is young, he has travelled a little and seen things you and I have not. If this fireplace,’ he turned and indicated the enormous arch at the side, ‘is as good as Robert believes it is you will be building them into all your future halls because everyone will want one, so accept what lord Robert says, he pays you after all. We are none of us too old to learn,’
Abel looked up at him. Was he telling him he was old? How dare he? It only served to stoke Abel’s fury but there was nothing else he could do now if he wished to keep the job. Later he would give Cuthbert a piece of his mind, oh yes, that young upstart would know the wrath of Abel. For now he must appear to accept what had been said.
‘Very well, sir,’ he replied through gritted teeth. ‘I will do as you say.’ And not enjoy doing it, he added to himself.
‘Very well. Next time I come I expect to see some of Cuthbert’s work, and by that I mean, his carving. Now Robert, you wanted to show me where you planned to build your stables.’
The group moved off, the difficulty settled, the peace restored as far as they were concerned. They went out through the big doorway at the far end of the Hall. Young Thomas turned and waved to Cuthbert as he went.
Abel glared round at all the workmen who had stopped to watch the drama, see their master being berated, humiliated.
‘What are you looking at? Get on with your work.’ He sought out Cuthbert who was still standing by the door to the west wing. ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he hissed and marched out into the sunshine, his fury boiling inside. He shouted at a young apprentice who had dropped his hammer as Abel passed. Another got a clip round the ear for tripping over a pile of wood shavings and a third was pushed aside for not moving quickly enough out of his way.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and immediately began talking about what had happened. It wasn’t everyday you saw your master builder spoken to like that. They all knew they must watch their step for the next few days.
‘It’s Cuthbert I feel sorry for,’ whispered one of the men to his neighbour as they continued measuring the doorway to the outside. ‘We all knew why he has bee
n sent here. Abel refuses to accept it but he’s going to have to now and he won’t like it.’
‘What can he do though? They’ll expect to see Cuthbert’s work now.’
‘Nothing, but he can make life very uncomfortable for the lad. Pity, I like him.’
Cuthbert returned to his floor. He had had no intention of causing any problem when he had taken young Thomas downstairs but the situation had been taken out of his hands. Now, he feared, Abel would have to accept him grudgingly and could no longer keep him occupied with mundane tasks. Cuthbert did not mind doing building work at all, but with Lord Derby’s words ringing in his ears the following weeks and months were not going to be easy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The storm broke within the hour, both within the house and in the countryside around. The day had been overcast, clouds rolling in from the west since dawn in great, grey sheets, obliterating the sun and dropping the temperature. Not long after the visitors had departed on their journey home it began to rain, gently at first but gradually coming heavier and heavier until the soft ground was churned to mud, people scurried for shelter and outside work on the house ceased. Cuthbert continued what he was doing, his part of the house being roofed and although few of the windows were in place, he did at least have a roof over his head and plenty of materials to hand to work with.
He could hear men shouting to each other across the site, asking whether they would be able to do any further work today. He heard a cart arrive, splashing through the water to come to a stop near the wood store. Ezekial must have got caught between the forest and Rufford with a fully laden cart and had little choice but to continue. Unloading in the rain would be a messy job even with extra hands helping but he would want to get it under cover before it got soaked. Cuthbert considered going to help but decided it would probably give Abel another excuse to shout at him and he had had enough from him for one day.