by Laura Locke
Richard sat bolt upright. Although he and his sisters were adults in age, they’d been well brought up to attend to the sound of their father’s voice. He, Johanna and Melody had all entered the world within minutes of one another; an oddity in of itself. That each was healthy and well-grounded in what made them individually happy, was the result of fate and the constant, guiding and patient hands of their parents, Ira and Sylvia Wellchester.
“Father, have you something for me to do? I’ve cleaned the slag, mucked and then swept the floor and sharpened the tools.”
Ira scratched his graying head. “Aye, I know you have,” he allowed. Perhaps it’s the heat that keeps customers away. I know I’ve no desire to spend a day such as this next to a devil’s forge,” he commented.
Richard took a deep breath. The time had come for the conversation he’d dreaded. “Father, join me for a cold drink beneath the tree?”
Ira nodded as Richard rose to get the drinks from the kitchen before joining his father, who even yet, was whittling to keep his hands busy. “What are you making, Father?”
Ira made a wry face and thrust his knife and project into the pocket of his heavy farrier’s apron. “’Tis nothing. I thought I would try my hand at making a trinket for Johanna’s babe, but I fear I do not have the eye for it. Mayhap I will never see young Ira, in any regard.”
Richard’s older sister by minutes and her husband, William were living in the Colonies. William, a ship’s captain, spent most of his time at sea, his cargo ship laden with goods bound for the next port. This caused Ira some concern as he knew the Colonies were an unsettled place, having not so very long before declared their independence from England and King George. That Johanna and their young babe, his namesake, were left to their own devices—even though William had provided a sound home, a servant and plenty of food—Ira feared the trouble the headstrong Johanna might get into unless properly supervised.
“You worry about Johanna, do you not, Father?”
Ira nodded. “Aye. You know your sister. She cannot confine her enthusiasm for life’s discoveries for long before she makes an unwise decision.”
“Oh, Father, I wouldn’t worry so. Johanna is bright and strong. Why, she found a good husband and is living in the new world, is she not? Surely, you can see the adventure in such?”
“That is precisely what worries me. So, now, Richard, what was it you wished to speak of?”
Richard hesitated, carefully choosing his words. “Father, it has always been a great source of pride to me to follow in your footsteps. There are few young men my age who have a trade, much less one they enjoy and that has become a family tradition. I believe the time has come, however, for me to go into the world on my own.”
Ira looked to the ground with a knowing pain that Richard was right. Neither man brought up the fact that there was barely enough work to keep one man occupied, let alone two. It did not reflect on Ira’s skills, but was more about the town and how it was dwindling in population. Many of the younger men had been taken into service by the King and their horses were shoed elsewhere. Tymington’s population had declined and those who remained had to watch their purse strings. Food for family came before shoes for horses.
Richard had finally voiced what had been on Ira’s mind for a very long time. Therefore, he raised no argument.
“Where will you go, son?”
“It’s too early to say, Father. I thought perhaps to take the extra forge and wagon—to travel from village to village. Perhaps the life of an itinerant farrier is my calling, who knows? If, however, there appears a good location to support me long-term, I can opt to stay there. Have no fear that I will compete with you, Father. I will travel far enough afield as to avoid that.”
“I had no fear of that, Richard. But I fear your mother will be upset.”
Richard shook his head, the sunlight glinting off his coppery hair. “She said the same of you.”
“You have already spoken to her on the subject?”
Richard nodded, gauging his father’s face for this sort of conversation was more appropriate between son and father, rather than son and mother. “It weighed heavily on my heart because I feared you would see it as abandonment. I went to Mother with my proposal. You know she always gives wise counsel.”
Ira nodded. “That she does. When do you propose to leave?”
“Unless you have need of me here, I thought to prepare for my journey immediately so that I might travel far enough before the weather turns to winter.”
“Very well. I am proud of you, Richard. I knew you would not choose to stay forever, but I confess, I thought my health would give out before this and you would inherit my own established business.”
“Then let us both thank the lord for your good health,” Richard put in hurriedly. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I have grown tired of the same faces and ceiling each morning.”
Ira laughed. He understood and was not offended. “Very well. Let me help you prepare. It may be that your decision is the better of the options.”
“Thank you for understanding, Father. And do not worry about Johanna. She is like a cat, always managing to land on her feet.”
Ira chuckled, missing his daughter, but totally in agreement. “You forget, while Johanna and you are choosing your futures, I still have Melody learning by your examples!”
Richard chuckled inwardly, knowing the comment was entirely appropriate if he knew his younger sister.
Chapter 2
The morning had opened beneath a shroud of fog. Ira was concerned, and begged Richard to stay until it lifted.
“Father, I respect what you are saying, but you know as well as I do that the parting must eventually come. There is no time like the present.”
Ira nodded and walked about the wagon, pulling at the wheels as he fought off the tears of parting. “You will be careful, my son, will you?”
“I will, Father. You still have Melody here to help Mother and I know the three of you will look after one another. I will drop you a card in the post from time to time to let you know how I am faring. Let me go now, Father, before I change my mind. We both know this is the right thing to do.”
Ira nodded and understood his son’s words were true. “Very well.”
“Did you think to leave before hugging your mother?” Sylvia asked, coming out of the house, Melody trailing behind her.
“And me? Can we not set aside our petty differences for a moment’s embrace before you leave?” she wanted to know.
Richard put a good face on it and held out his arms to embrace all three of them at once. “Be of good health.”
Richard climbed aboard the wagon before he could change his mind and with a quick look back at his family, clucked to the horses and snapped the reins. He rode slowly down the road to town, absorbing every detail as he passed by. It would be a very long time possibly before he might come back to visit. He was setting off on the rest of his life and his path must be a sure one.
He waved at the townspeople and they waved back, the women blowing him kisses while the men raised a defiant, approving fist into the air—a symbol urging him to be strong and prosperous. He would miss the townspeople almost as much as he missed his own family. They were very closely-knit group, coming to one another’s aid when there was trouble in supporting one another’s businesses so that they all may eat and live comfortably. They had endured much over the years; numerous attacks from the north, Scotland, and answering attacks from England’s King to their south. His own sister’s husband, William, was a soldier in the King’s Army and it was mere coincidence that he and Joanna had met. Richard hope that he would be as fortunate in finding a young woman with whom he could settle down and begin his own family elsewhere.
It wasn’t long before the town was left behind and Richard settled into the seat, forcing his shoulders to relax as he knew we had a long journey ahead. He’d taken the time to make a wooden sign which hung from the side of the wagon. It announced that he was a
traveling farrier, available to tend to horses using the setup which he carried with him. He’d also fashioned quite an ingenious ramp that allowed him to move the heavy forge from the wagon’s bed to the ground, and back up. He simply needed to make sure the coals had cooled.
There was no doubt that his journey would be a complicated one. On one hand, the smaller towns that could not support their own farrier would be ideal customers for his traveling business. On the other hand, his eventual hope was to find a town large enough to support a permanent arrangement. Thus, the two would not coincide. He decided to try the smaller towns at the outset. They would be more lucrative, and he could build himself a nest egg of funds with which he could eventually begin a permanent business elsewhere. It seemed to be a sound plan and was one with which he was confident.
Richard camped along the way, sleeping beneath his wagon and once the foodstuffs his mother had packed along with him were depleted, he set about finding other ways to procure food, including buying it from farmers along the way. He bartered his services for cured meats, vegetables and the occasional apple pie. Sometimes, the farmers were kind enough to allow him to hunt on their property. Richard had long practiced his shooting and was highly accurate. This paid off in the long run and he salted down the meats to tide him over. Winter was coming, and food would be harder to come by.
Richard felt sad to have left behind his family and friends, and yet the anticipation for the future provided the silver lining that helped him leave. He was up for an adventure, whatever it might be.
Chapter 3
Richard finally felt as though he were far enough afield so as not to interfere with his father’s customers. He hung the sign out onto the wagon now, and donned a bright red vest which would call attention to himself. It did, indeed, do just that.
The road had narrowed into a single path. The sides of the wagon scraped the trees as it slid beneath the canopy of leaves. Richard heard the footfalls of horses in the near distance and anticipating passing them, began looking for somewhere to pull off. The road was winding and therefore it was difficult to see very far into the distance. At the last moment, he spotted a clearing, illuminated by a beam of sunshine as though it had been waiting for him. He pulled the wagon off the roadway into it and sat waiting for the oncoming traffic to pass by.
To his dismay and surprise, it was a small group of the King’s soldiers headed his way. He bristled, knowing they would stop to inquire after his business. He and his family had long been caught in the path between English soldiers and the clans of Scotland. Would he to be allowed to pass? He prepared himself, taking care to look as nonchalant as possible.
At the head of the group rode a lieutenant, his carriage suggesting that he was a career soldier, perhaps the younger son of some titled nobleman.
“Good day to you sir,” the lieutenant initiated the conversation.
“Good day,” Richard responded, removing his hat and nodding in deference. He wanted no trouble.
The group came to a halt, their horses circling within the small group as when they prepared for battle. There was no doubt that these were professional soldiers.
“So, what have we here?” the lieutenant asked, gesturing to the wagon.
“I am a traveling farrier, sir. I come from the north where my father raised me in his footsteps. His business is, at the moment, somewhat limited and the time has come for me to set off on my own.”
The lieutenant muttered something to the men around him at which point they pulled up their bridles, dismounted and stood next to their steeds. “It just so happens that we have need of a farrier,” the lieutenant said pleasantly.
“Indeed?” Richard set his cap on the wagon seat next to himself and anchored the reins. He clambered down from the wagon and stood before the lieutenant. He was very surprised by the geniality the lieutenant displayed. “What seems to be the problem?”
“We have had a recent skirmish, and a couple of our horses sustained slashes to their hooves. Perhaps you could be so kind as to take a look and administer any needed help?”
Richard nodded. “Of course.” He knew better than to ask their politics or to offer his own. This was purely a business arrangement.
“Which…?” he began, gesturing to the group.
Two of the men held up their hands and stood back, looking at their horses’ legs. Richard took each of them aside where he could examine them in the sunlight without exciting the other animals. Although he was skilled in fashioning and applying horses’ shoes, it was often the case that he had to see to injuries the animal may have sustained, as well.
“Yes,” he nodded. “I may be of service. Let me get my box off the wagon.”
“Go ahead,” the lieutenant said and nodded his permission.
Richard retrieved a wooden box from inside the wagon. It held a number of unguents, suitable for healing animal wounds. These he applied to the injured horses and then gently wrapped their wounds with strips of cloth. He checked their other hooves and indeed, found a third horse who had thrown a shoe, causing it to limp badly.
“I see you need a shoe on this one,” he indicated to the lieutenant.
“Go ahead.”
He wheeled the forge from the wagon with the help of a couple soldiers. It was heavy, although it was the smaller of the two his father owned and considered to be more portable. Without the ramp he’d constructed, it would have been literally impossible to heft it in and out of the wagon’s bed. He loaded it with coals, as the group waited while the coals burned low, allowing the proper heat source for the forging of the iron. An hour later, Richard was done. He poured water from the barrel he’d lashed to the wagon’s side onto the coals to cool them. The soldiers were kind enough to wait around long enough to help him push it back into the wagon.
The lieutenant held out his hand. “For your trouble, young sir.”
“Thank you, sir.” Richard took the coins and saw that the lieutenant had been extremely generous. It was rewarding to think that indeed, he was able to conduct a form of commerce and that the king soldiers had become prime customers.
“Head to the south roughly five leagues and then turn eastward. You’ll come across an encampment of others in our troop. Tell them Lieutenant Barnard has sent you. I believe they will have enough work to keep you occupied for a fortnight.”
Richard nodded. “I thank you, sir. You’ve been most generous and helpful. I will do just as you say.”
The lieutenant nodded, tipped his cap to Richard as the group of them mounted and rode off down the narrow roadway. Richard looked at the coins in his hand and was particularly pleased. It had been good fortune to run across the lieutenant and his men. Now he had a reference for even more business. He decided to stay in the clearing for the remainder of the evening, camping there before setting off for the contingent Lieutenant Barnard had mentioned. He pulled the last loaf of his mother’s bread from the bag in which it had been wrapped. He broke off a chunk and sat on the ground, his back against a tree to enjoy the peace of nature as he ate. He had, indeed, had a stroke of good luck and the celebration seemed in order.
Chapter 4
At daybreak, Richard set off, following the directions the lieutenant given him. There was a harbinger of autumn in that the temperatures that morning were cool. Richard pulled the heavy quilted jacket his mother had made for him from the back of the wagon and was glad for its warmth. His mother was a talented seamstress, very popular among the locals in their town.
It was midafternoon when Richard came across the encampment of soldiers. Two sentries immediately approached, their weapons drawn. Richard stopped the wagon, put on the brake and sat quietly without moving. There was always the risk that he was some wily Scotsman, there to gather information or perhaps his wagon was filled with an onslaught of peasant soldiers, ready to attack.
“Hold up there. State your business.” The larger of the two sentries apparently took his job very seriously. He held his weapon in Richard’s direction whil
e the second sentry walked around to the back of the wagon, throwing open the flap to inspect the cargo.
“What have you here?” the second man inquired. Richard realized the man had possibly never seen a forge. Often, a horse was handed over to the farrier outside the barn and the customer never went inside.
“I am a farrier, the son of Ira Wellchester of Tymington. I’ve set off on my own as an itinerant farrier. I met with a Lieutenant Barnard along the way. I provided some services including shoeing and wound treatment. He seemed pleased and suggested that I seek the encampment here to likewise offer my services. If you will allow me to climb down, I will be happy to show you the contents of the wagon.”
The larger of the two sentries nodded, but the second seemed still confused. The larger man motioned toward him, “Let him down to show us what he has.”
Richard climbed down, tipping his cap to them as he rounded the wagon. He walked to the side, lifted and tied back those flaps as well. The sentries inspected the contents and Richard answered their questions.
“Very well. Proceed on to camp and inquire after Captain Cummings. He’s the man to see.”
Richard nodded his thanks and left the wagon open so no more suspicions were raised. He proceeded into the camp and inquired as to the whereabouts of Captain Cummings.
“You are looking for me?” A soldier in resplendent red, his chest covered with medals approached Richard. Richard went on to explain his mission and the captain nodded.
“It so happens, that we do, indeed, have a use for you. I’m obliged to Lieutenant Barnard for sending you our way.” The captain looked around briefly and then added, “Move your wagon to the north side of the encampment and set up your equipment. What is it you charge?”