The Angry Stone

 

Salisbury, 20^th October 2020

“You’re doing a good job there”, said Dave to Tommy. Tommy was not going to disagree, but it was clear from the expression on his face that something was bothering him.

Tommy was a master stonemason, doing restoration work at the Cathedral, and Dave was his supervisor. They were currently replacing a series of stones that formed a decorative parapet high above the ground. Each new stone was shaped and carved in the masons’ yard that was almost certainly where the original masons had done their work 700 years previously.

As each new stone was completed it was loaded aboard a hoist that that carried it up to its location, and that was how the old stones had been brought down to the yard so that they could be copied exactly, with the ravages of centuries of weathering made good.

“So what’s on your mind?” Dave asked.

“It’s this stone”, Tommy said, pointing to the weather-worn stone that he was currently working on replacing.

“What about it?”

“I get a strange feeling every time I go near it”, Tommy said. “It’s as though it’s trying to tell me something.”

“Stones can’t talk”, Dave said.

“This one can. It’s telling me to be very careful.”

“You always are, “said Dave, “there isn’t a mason in this yard who takes more care over their work than you do.”

“I don’t mean that that sort of care”, said Tommy. “I get a sense of fear when I go near it, as though something terrible is going to happen. And I know it sounds strange to say, but that stone is angry.”

“Angry?”

“That’s not all”, Tommy continued. “I’ve noticed something very odd about this stone, in a purely physical sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“As you know”, Tommy said, “the old masons used to put their mark on every stone as they finished them. That’s how they got paid – a certain amount for each stone they ‘signed’ on completion. Well, all the stones on the parapet, up to this point, were signed with a W mark. The mason was clearly assigned the job of working his way along, with each stone being identical.

“But this is the last stone with the W mark – all the ones further along have a different mark, and they were not worked anything like as well. Even with the weathering, you can see that the quality dropped off after the W stones ended.

“And there’s more. You see this spike here? There are three decorative spikes on top of each stone, and every one has weathered to just about the same degree – apart from here. This spike has broken clean off.”

Dave had to agree. Even after 700 years of wind and rain it was easy to see that something had happened to this stone that set it apart from all the others. All the work on the parapet up to that point had clearly been of excellent quality, apart from this one stone, the last one that bore the W mark. Why – if a spike had broken off - would the builders have put this stone on the parapet? “W” was clearly a man who took great pride in his work, so why would he have allowed an inferior piece to be used? It made no sense.

 

Salisbury, 20^th October 1320

“Another beautiful piece of work, William”, said Brother Geoffrey, as he surveyed the latest creations being completed in the masons’ yard.

“I thank you, Brother Geoffrey”, said William, who had been working at his trade for more than thirty years and was widely regarded as the most talented mason in the country. That was why he was entrusted with the most finely detailed work.

“I do my work for the glory of God and I put a piece of my soul into every piece I carve. Nothing short of perfection is good enough for this great cathedral.”

“Well said,” said Brother Geoffrey. “And is this stone ready to be lifted up to the parapet?”

“Indeed it is”, said William. The men are about to haul it into place. Stay with me awhile and watch as it rises to where it will stay for hundreds of years.”

So the two men watched as the newly finished stone was lifted onto a cradle that had thick ropes attached to it. The labourers hauled at the ropes , which wound round a block-and-tackle arrangement high above them, and the stone lifted off the ground. This was something that the well-muscled men had done many times before, and they had no reason to think that anything different would happen this time, but that was where they were wrong.

The stone had nearly reached the level of the parapet, where other workers were waiting to catch hold of it and swing it into place, when everyone heard a sharp crack and watched in horror as the timber that supported the block-and-tackle split in two and everything supported by it started to fall back towards the ground. The men who had been hauling the ropes gave a warning cry, but it was too late – the stone and the accompanying equipment landed straight on top of the mason and the monk, killing them instantly.

 

Salisbury, 4^th November 1320

Once everyone had recovered their senses after the terrible loss of William the mason and Brother Geoffrey, decisions had to be made as to what should happen next.

Simon, the clerk of works, was conscious that the work was taking much longer than it should have done, partly because there had been several other accidents in recent weeks including a number of fatalities. These were mainly due to men falling from high places, sometimes because the high wooden scaffolding had been poorly assembled or the timbers had not been strong enough for the weights they were then expected to bear. The latest tragedy had been just one more misfortune and there would surely be many more.

However, the work had to progress, and time could not be wasted.

That was why he was determined to get William’s final stone back on to the parapet as soon as possible. This had meant re-assembling the scaffolding that held the block-and-tackle and getting everything back into place. The preparatory work had now been done and it was time to get hauling.

However, there was a problem, as was pointed out to Simon by Bernard, the mason who had taken over William’s role in the masons’ yard.

“We can’t use William’s stone”, he said.

“Why on earth not?” Simon replied.

“Just look at it. When the stone fell it not only killed William but it was damaged – this spike broke off half way up. William would never have allowed a stone like this to be used – we need to a carve a new one from scratch.”

But Simon would not listen. As far as he was concerned, it was perfectionists like William who were a major cause of the delays that were so burdensome to him. Not only would William’s now less-than-perfect stone be used, but corners would be cut in future – the spikes would be as plain as possible with no hint of decoration of the kind that William had been so expert at.

 

Salisbury, 4^th November 2020

William had been right – there was a piece of his soul in that stone, and it was not at all happy with Simon’s decision.

During the intervening centuries, the narrow gap behind the parapet had become the home of peregrines which delighted in using the cathedral as a launch pad for swooping down on unsuspecting pigeons and other luckless prey. Nests were built every year and young birds raised to follow the tradition of their parents. However, it was noted by birdwatchers who trained their binoculars on to the parapet from below that there was one place where the peregrines never built a nest – there was one stone behind which no young birds were ever raised.

But today all that would change. Tommy’s perfect replacement stone was now in place and a piece of William’s soul could depart after 700 angry years.

© John Welford