The Masons Tale

In 1818, stones bearing the inscription '1818WR' marked out plots of land on the Lomond Hills in Scotland - this is the stonemason's story! A glossary of the Scots words is given below.

             

The masons tale

 

 ‘Twenty six of them - I cannae believe it?’ I said quietly to myself.

 ‘Yon man’s ne’er done a guid days work in his life!  ‘Damn slaver!’

'What are you saying Mr Mclean?’ The object of my ire replied to my o’er loud rant.

‘Och - I’m jist haein a wee haver tae masel,’ Sir William.

I fingered the working on the sides of the stone and also checked the initials and date on the top one final time before pulling my hand away, WR 1818. They were to my satisfaction.  I straightened up and looked at the man standing a few feet away, his features lost in the glare of the low March sun - it was the very man himself - WR, Sir William Rae.  Standing a respectful distance to his side was Alexander Martin, the surveyor from Cupar and then a few more paces away was Jock Fleming from the village with his pack pony.

 

‘That’ll be the last ane the day Mr Rae?  That’s fower we’ve done.’

‘I know full well how many we’ve done Mr McLean,’ Sir William declared testily, ‘I’m mindful that I have to be back in Edinburgh by tomorrow evening and we still have twenty six of these damned stones to place by the end of the week. Anyway, well done to the pair of you. We’ll call it a day now and I’ll see you both opposite the palace at seven in the morning.’ Sir William paused and frowned. ‘How is your preparation of the stones going Mr Mclean?’

 

‘Very weel.’ I replied. ‘I have three stanes ready doon the hill an I can carve another fower the morrow. Jimmie Wilson is going tae drill some mair o’ the big boulders an he’ll blast them wi the black pooder. There’ll be nae shortage o suitable stanes. Dinae fash yersel man - ye’ll hae your twenty six by the end o' the week.’   

‘Excellent, I’ll bid you both a good evening then. A meal awaits me at my lodgings.’ The tall figure of Sir William turned and strode off down the hill towards the village with Mr Martin the surveyor struggling to keep up.

‘Damn the wine in that coach house - I’d be better drinking the dishwater!’ I could make out Sir William complaining.

 

Jock and I sat down on the grassy bank for a few minutes break before returning to our cottages.

 

‘A meal awaits me at my lodgings. Damn the wine!’ Jock mimicked in a passable educated accent. I laughed and replied in like vein.

‘I’m mindful that I have to be back in Edinburgh at the end of the morrow.’ We baith laughed heartily.

 

‘Dae ye fancy a pipe afore we gang doon Alasdair?’

‘I was thinking the very same masel Jock.’ We filled our clay pipes, lit them and sat in contented silence for five minutes puffing away.

‘That was a fine bit o bacce.’ I said to Jock when we had finished.

‘Ae, it certainly was!  Oor wives will no grudge us time for a puff.’ Jock had to watch his step - the puir man had a maister at work and a mistress at hame!

‘They’ll no ken man!’ I laughed.

 

Our village lay directly below us - the palace in a state of dilapidation, the auld kirk with its square tower, a few passable town houses and a huddle of mean thatched cottages where most of the villagers lived. Smoke drifted up from the chimneys.

 

‘I’ll hae tae be honest Jock - this work maks me boak. Tae think that a’ we’re doin is haundin oot the land tae a’ the fine folk that hae it onieway.’

‘I ken whit ye mean Alasdair but a’ this wid happen without us. In these hard times we have tae tak work whaur we can get it. Yon man Martin that’s awa doon the brae chasin Rae’s fancy coat-tails only gies me a shilling for slaving all day wi a hammer an chisel and I ken that he only gies you five bob for the six days.’

‘Aye Jock, there’s nae fancy living for us doon there - porridge, bread and broth and if we’re lucky a penny for a pint o ale.’

‘Did ye hear Rae asking me aboot me no being careful wi the chisel?’ Jock said, fingering the great livid scar across his forearm.  ‘I just aboot threw the bluidy thing at him. Still he had the grace to look embarrassed when I told him I had fought against Bony at Waterloo three years ago wi the Black Watch.’

‘Dinae repeat this tae onybody but thae radicals across in the west hae the right idea - we hae tae staund thegither against the factory owners.’

‘I agree full weel wi ye, Alasdair, but I heard that the government are bringing up troops to quell ony insurrection. Mark my word - there’ll be blood spilt afore long and it’ll nae be frae the dragoons.’

Glossary  yon: that   guid:good   haver:babble(talk)   masel:myself

ane:one   fower:four   weel:well   mair:more   pooder:gunpowder

fash:bother    baith:both   gang doon:go down   bacce:tobacco

puir:poor   ken:know  boak:be sick  haundin:handing  whaur:where

bob:shilling   thegither:together    nae:not    frae;from