|
The time arrived when young
Telford must be put to some regular calling. Was he to be a shepherd like
his father and his uncle, or was he to be a farm-labourer, or put apprentice
to a trade? There was not much choice; but at length it was determined to
bind him to a stonemason. In Eskdale that trade was for the most part
confined to the building of drystone walls, and there was very little more
art employed in it than an ordinarily neat-handed labourer could manage. It
was eventually decided to send the youth--and he was now a strong lad of
about fifteen--to a mason at Lochmaben, a small town across the hills to the
westward, where a little more building and of a better sort--such as of
farm-houses, barns, and road-bridges--was carried on than in his own
immediate neighbourhood. There he remained only a few months; for his master
using him badly, the high-spirited youth would not brook it, and ran away,
taking refuge with his mother at The Crooks, very much to her dismay.
What was now to be done with
Tom? He was willing to do anything or go anywhere rather than back to his
Lochmaben master. In this emergency his cousin Thomas Jackson, the factor or
land-steward at Wester Hall, offered to do what he could to induce Andrew
Thomson, a small mason at Langholm, to take Telford for the remainder of his
apprenticeship; and to him he went accordingly. The business carried on by
his new master was of a very humble sort. Telford, in his autobiography,
states that most of the farmers' houses in the district then consisted of
"one storey of mud walls, or rubble stones bedded in clay, and thatched with
straw, rushes, or heather; the floors being of earth, and the fire in the
middle, having a plastered creel chimney for the escape of the smoke; while,
instead of windows, small openings in the thick mud walls admitted a scanty
light." The farm-buildings were of a similarly wretched description.
The principal owner of the
landed property in the neighbourhood was the Duke of Buccleugh. Shortly
after the young Duke Henry succeeded to the title and estates, in 1767, he
introduced considerable improvements in the farmers' houses and farm-steadings,
and the peasants' dwellings, as well as in the roads throughout Eskdale.
Thus a demand sprang up for masons' labour, and Telford's master had no want
of regular employment for his hands. Telford profited by the experience
which this increase in the building operations of the neighbourhood gave
him; being employed in raising rough walls and farm enclosures, as well as
in erecting bridges across rivers wherever regular roads for wheel carriages
were substituted for the horse-tracks formerly in use.
During the greater part of
his apprenticeship Telford lived in the little town of Langholm, taking
frequent opportunities of visiting his mother at The Crooks on Saturday
evenings, and accompanying her to the parish church of Westerkirk on
Sundays. Langholm was then a very poor place, being no better in that
respect than the district that surrounded it. It consisted chiefly of mud
hovels, covered with thatch--the principal building in it being the Tolbooth,
a stone and lime structure, the upper part of which was used as a
justice-hall and the lower part as a gaol. There were, however, a few good
houses in the little town, occupied by people of the better class, and in
one of these lived an elderly lady, Miss Pasley, one of the family of the
Pasleys of Craig. As the town was so small that everybody in it knew
everybody else, the ruddyy-cheeked, laughing mason's apprentice soon became
generally known to all the townspeople, and amongst others to Miss Pasley.
When she heard that he was the poor orphan boy from up the valley, the son
of the hard-working widow woman, Janet Jackson, so "eident" and so
industrious, her heart warmed to the mason's apprentice, and she sent for
him to her house. That was a proud day for Tom; and when he called upon her,
he was not more pleased with Miss Pasley's kindness than delighted at the
sight of her little library of books, which contained more volumes than he
had ever seen before.
Having by this time acquired
a strong taste for reading, and exhausted all the little book stores of his
friends, the joy of the young mason may be imagined when Miss Pasley
volunteered to lend him some books from her own library. Of course, he
eagerly and thankfully availed himself of the privilege; and thus, while
working as an apprentice and afterwards as a journeyman, Telford gathered
his first knowledge of British literature, in which he was accustomed to the
close of his life to take such pleasure. He almost always had some book with
him, which he would snatch a few minutes to read in the intervals of his
work; and on winter evenings he occupied his spare time in poring over such
volumes as came in his way, usually with no better light than the cottage
fire. On one occasion Miss Pasley lent him 'Paradise Lost,' and he took the
book with him to the hill-side to read. His delight was such that it fairly
taxed his powers of expression to describe it. He could only say; "I read,
and read, and glowred; then read, and read again." He was also a great
admirer of Burns, whose writings so inflamed his mind that at the age of
twenty-two, when barely out of his apprenticeship, we find the young mason
actually breaking out in verse.*[1] By diligently reading all the books that
he could borrow from friends and neighbours, Telford made considerable
progress in his learning; and, what with his scribbling of "poetry" and
various attempts at composition, he had become so good and legible a writer
that he was often called upon by his less-educated acquaintances to pen
letters for them to their distant friends. He was always willing to help
them in this way; and, the other working people of the town making use of
his services in the same manner, all the little domestic and family
histories of the place soon became familiar to him. One evening a Langholm
man asked Tom to write a letter for him to his son in England; and when the
young scribe read over what had been written to the old man's dictation, the
latter, at the end of almost every sentence, exclaimed, "Capital! capital!"
and at the close he said, "Well! I declare, Tom! Werricht himsel' couldna
ha' written a better!"--Wright being a well-known lawyer or "writer" in
Langholm.
His apprenticeship over,
Telford went on working as a journeyman at Langholm, his wages at the time
being only eighteen pence a day. What was called the New Town was then in
course of erection, and there are houses still pointed out in it, the walls
of which Telford helped to put together. In the town are three arched
door-heads of a more ornamental character than the rest, of Telford's
hewing; for he was already beginning to set up his pretensions as a
craftsman, and took pride in pointing to the superior handiwork which
proceeded from his chisel.
About the same time, the
bridge connecting the Old with the New Town was built across the Esk at
Langholm, and upon that structure he was also employed. Many of the stones
in it were hewn by his hand, and on several of the blocks forming the
land-breast his tool-mark is still to be seen.
Not long after the bridge was
finished, an unusually high flood or spate swept down the valley. The Esk
was "roaring red frae bank to brae," and it was generally feared that the
new brig would be carried away. Robin Hotson, the master mason, was from
home at the time, and his wife, Tibby, knowing that he was bound by his
contract to maintain the fabric for a period of seven years, was in a state
of great alarm. She ran from one person to another, wringing her hands and
sobbing, "Oh! we'll be ruined--we'll a' be ruined!" In her distress she
thought of Telford, in whom she had great confidence, and called out, "Oh!
where's Tammy Telfer-- where's Tammy?" He was immediately sent for. It was
evening, and he was soon found at the house of Miss Pasley. When he came
running up, Tibby exclaimed, "Oh, Tammy! they've been on the brig, and they
say its shakin'! It 'll be doon!" "Never you heed them, Tibby," said
Telford, clapping her on the shoulder, "there's nae fear o' the brig. I like
it a' the better that it shakes-- it proves its weel put thegither." Tibby's
fears, however, were not so easily allayed; and insisting that she heard the
brig "rumlin," she ran up--so the neighbours afterwards used to say of
her--and set her back against the parapet to hold it together. At this, it
is said, "Tam bodged and leuch;" and Tibby, observing how easily he took it,
at length grew more calm. It soon became clear enough that the bridge was
sufficiently strong; for the flood subsided without doing it any harm, and
it has stood the furious spates of nearly a century uninjured.
Telford acquired considerable
general experience about the same time as a house-builder, though the
structures on which he was engaged were of a humble order, being chiefly
small farm-houses on the Duke of Buccleugh's estate, with the usual
out-buildings. Perhaps the most important of the jobs on which he was
employed was the manse of Westerkirk, where he was comparatively at home.
The hamlet stands on a green hill-side, a little below the entrance to the
valley of the Meggat. It consists of the kirk, the minister's manse, the
parish-school, and a few cottages, every occupant of which was known to
Telford. It is backed by the purple moors, up which he loved to wander in
his leisure hours and read the poems of Fergusson and Burns. The river Esk
gurgles along its rocky bed in the bottom of the dale, separated from the
kirkyard by a steep bank, covered with natural wood; while near at hand,
behind the manse, stretch the fine woods of Wester Hall, where Telford was
often wont to roam.
Valley of Eskdale, Westerkirk in the distance.
We can scarcely therefore
wonder that, amidst such pastoral scenery, and reading such books as he did,
the poetic faculty of the country mason should have become so decidedly
developed. It was while working at Westerkirk manse that he sketched the
first draft of his descriptive poem entitled 'Eskdale,' which was published
in the 'Poetical Museum' in 1784.*[2] These early poetical efforts were at
least useful in stimulating his self-education. For the practice of poetical
composition, while it cultivates the sentiment of beauty in thought and
feeling, is probably the best of all exercises in the art of writing
correctly, grammatically, and expressively. By drawing a man out of his
ordinary calling, too, it often furnishes him with a power of happy thinking
which may in after life become a source of the purest pleasure; and this, we
believe, proved to be the case with Telford, even though he ceased in later
years to pursue the special cultivation of the art.
Shortly after, when work
became slack in the district, Telford undertook to do small jobs on his own
account such as the hewing of grave-stones and ornamental doorheads. He
prided himself especially upon his hewing, and from the specimens of his
workmanship which are still to be seen in the churchyards of Langholm and
Westerkirk, he had evidently attained considerable skill. On some of these
pieces of masonry the year is carved--1779, or 1780. One of the most
ornamental is that set into the wall of Westerkirk church, being a
monumental slab, with an inscription and moulding, surmounted by a coat of
arms, to the memory of James Pasley of Craig. He had now learnt all that his
native valley could teach him of the art of masonry; and, bent upon
self-improvement and gaining a larger experience of life, as well as
knowledge of his trade, he determined to seek employment elsewhere. He
accordingly left Eskdale for the first time, in 1780, and sought work in
Edinburgh, where the New Town was then in course of erection on the elevated
land, formerly green fields, extending along the north bank of the "Nor'
Loch." A bridge had been thrown across the Loch in 1769, the stagnant pond
or marsh in the hollow had been filled up, and Princes Street was rising as
if by magic. Skilled masons were in great demand for the purpose of carrying
out these and the numerous other architectural improvements which were in
progress, and Telford had no difficulty in obtaining employment.
Our stone-mason remained at
Edinburgh for about two years, during which he had the advantage of taking
part in first-rate work and maintaining himself comfortably, while he
devoted much of his spare time to drawing, in its application to
architecture. He took the opportunity of visiting and carefully studying the
fine specimens of ancient work at Holyrood House and Chapel, the Castle,
Heriot's Hospital, and the numerous curious illustrations of middle age
domestic architecture with which the Old Town abounds. He also made several
journeys to the beautiful old chapel of Rosslyn, situated some miles to the
south of Edinburgh, making careful drawings of the more important parts of
that building.
When he had thus improved
himself, "and studied all that was to be seen in Edinburgh, in returning to
the western border," he says, "I visited the justly celebrated Abbey of
Melrose." There he was charmed by the delicate and perfect workmanship still
visible even in the ruins of that fine old Abbey; and with his folio filled
with sketches and drawings, he made his way back to Eskdale and the humble
cottage at The Crooks. But not to remain there long. He merely wished to pay
a parting visit to his mother and other relatives before starting upon a
longer journey. "Having acquired," he says in his Autobiography, "the
rudiments of my profession, I considered that my native country afforded few
opportunities of exercising it to any extent, and therefore judged it
advisable (like many of my countrymen) to proceed southward, where industry
might find more employment and be better remunerated."
Before setting out, he called
upon all his old friends and acquaintances in the dale--the neighbouring
farmers, who had befriended him and his mother when struggling with
poverty--his schoolfellows, many of whom were preparing to migrate, like
himself, from their native valley--and the many friends and acquaintances he
had made while working as a mason in Langholm. Everybody knew that Tom was
going south, and all wished him God speed. At length the leave-taking was
over, and he set out for London in the year 1782, when twenty-five years
old. He had, like the little river Meggat, on the banks of which he was
born, floated gradually on towards the outer world: first from the nook in
the valley, to Westerkirk school; then to Langholm and its little circle;
and now, like the Meggat, which flows with the Esk into the ocean, he was
about to be borne away into the wide world. Telford, however, had confidence
in himself, and no one had fears for him. As the neighbours said, wisely
wagging their heads, "Ah, he's an auld-farran chap is Tam; he'll either mak
a spoon or spoil a horn; any how, he's gatten a good trade at his fingers'
ends."
Telford had made all his
previous journeys on foot; but this one he made on horseback. It happened
that Sir James Johnstone, the laird of Wester Hall, had occasion to send a
horse from Eskdale to a member of his family in London, and he had some
difficulty in finding a person to take charge of it. It occurred to Mr.
Jackson, the laird's factor, that this was a capital opportunity for his
cousin Tom, the mason; and it was accordingly arranged that he should ride
the horse to town. When a boy, he had learnt rough riding sufficiently well
for the purpose; and the better to fit him for the hardships of the road,
Mr. Jackson lent him his buckskin breeches. Thus Tom set out from his native
valley well mounted, with his little bundle of "traps" buckled behind him,
and, after a prosperous journey, duly reached London, and delivered up the
horse as he had been directed. Long after, Mr. Jackson used to tell the
story of his cousin's first ride to London with great glee, and he always
took care to wind up with--"but Tam forgot to send me back my breeks!"
Lower Valley of the Meggat, the Crooks in the distance.
Footnotes for Chapter II.
*[1] In his 'Epistle to Mr. Walter Ruddiman,' first published in 'Ruddiman's
Weekly Magazine,' in 1779, occur the following lines addressed to Burns, in
which Telford incidentally sketches himself at the time, and hints at his
own subsequent meritorious career;
"Nor pass the tentie curious
lad,
Who o'er the ingle hangs his head,
And begs of neighbours books to read;
For hence arise
Thy country's sons, who far are spread,
Baith bold and wise."
*[2] The 'Poetical Museum,'
Hawick, p.267. ' Eskdale' was afterwards reprinted by Telford when living at
Shrewsbury, when he added a few lines by way of conclusion. The poem
describes very pleasantly the fine pastoral scenery of the district:--
"Deep 'mid the green
sequester'd glens below,
Where murmuring streams among the alders flow,
Where flowery meadows down their margins spread,
And the brown hamlet lifts its humble head--
There, round his little fields, the peasant strays,
And sees his flock along the mountain graze;
And, while the gale breathes o'er his ripening grain,
And soft repeats his upland shepherd's strain,
And western suns with mellow radiance play.
And gild his straw-roof'd cottage with their ray,
Feels Nature's love his throbbing heart employ,
Nor envies towns their artificial joy."
The features of the valley
are very fairly described. Its early history is then rapidly sketched; next
its period of border strife, at length happily allayed by the union of the
kingdoms, under which the Johnstones, Pasleys, and others, men of Eskdale,
achieve honour and fame. Nor did he forget to mention Armstrong, the author
of the 'Art of Preserving Health,' son of the minister of Castleton, a few
miles east of Westerkirk; and Mickle, the translator of the 'Lusiad,' whose
father was minister of the parish of Langholm; both of whom Telford took a
natural pride in as native poets of Eskdale. |
