The Brickmaker's Bride

by Judith Miller

  “You’re the only one who would look at our books and say we’re not making a profit, and that’s because it means more money in your pocket.” Never before had Ewan spoken to him in such a manner, but he was not going to let his uncle think such behavior was acceptable.

  Anger continued to knot in Ewan’s chest. He clenched the record book in his hand, stepped outside, took his position at the top of the hill, and systematically checked off the names of the men appearing in the yard. These were the men who always arrived early and tried to complete their work before any of the other groups. They prided themselves on being first to complete their jobs and leave the brickyard.

  Most days they’d make some heckling remark to the others as they swaggered out of the yard to go into town and enjoy themselves at the local tavern. In some ways, they reminded him of Uncle Hugh. Always wanting to be first to depart, they gave little care as to how they reached their goal. However, their shoddy work was beginning to affect the number of good bricks that could be shipped to Pittsburgh.

  On several occasions, Ewan had spoken with the men and asked them to slow down, but he’d met with little success. In their rush, they occasionally tipped over a barrow of bricks, ruining them, or the edgers in their group didn’t straighten and turn the bricks to make certain the surface was smoothed during those important first two days of drying.

  However, it was the men assigned to hack the bricks who were least careful. Once the bricks had dried for two days, the hackers stacked the bricks in herringbone fashion to dry further. They were instructed to leave a finger’s width between the bricks but often failed to do so. Such habits resulted in improperly dried bricks that didn’t burn sufficiently when fired in the kiln and were dubbed “pale bricks,” while bricks that burned too hot were dubbed “lammies.” The pale bricks and lammies couldn’t be used to fulfill their contracts and had to be sold for a much lower price. Though Ewan realized they would always have some unacceptable bricks, he wanted to see that number decrease significantly in the near future.

  Still holding the record book, he strode into the yard. He tipped his cap to one of the men. “Have you been taking care when you hack the bricks, Tom?” When the man hesitated, Ewan stopped short. “Be careful with your answer. I plan to go over there and take a look for myself before the setters and wheelers begin to set the arches.”

  Tom’s eyebrows pulled together, and his features creased in a frown. “I been working bricks all me life, Ewan. You do not need to be checking on me work.”

  Ewan stiffened at the retort that sounded much like what his uncle had said only a short time ago. He wheeled around to face the worker. “Last firing, we had more than an arch of pale bricks. That’s about thirty-five thousand bricks I had to sell for half the price we receive for good bricks. How would you feel if I cut your wages in half, Tom?”

  Several of the men who were listening shouted their disapproval. “Aye, well, that’s how I feel when we burn fifteen arches and a full arch isn’t worth the cost it took to make it. I expect better from you men. You say you’ve got years of experience. Prove it by doing better. There will be no pay raises so long as there’s no improvement in your work. Getting done before the other men isn’t what’s important. If you want an honest day’s wages, then give me an honest day’s work.”

  He gestured to Tom. “Come with me and let’s have a look. If the hacking is done well, you’ll have my apology.”

  “And a pay raise?”

  The conversation with Uncle Hugh had put Ewan in foul humor. Tom was asking for a pay raise for performing mediocre work, while Uncle Hugh had decreased Ewan’s wages. Truth be told, Ewan was now paid less than the burners working for him. Granted, he lived in a fine house he didn’t have to pay for and ate food he didn’t purchase, but he worked longer hours than any man he’d hired—and he was the boss—at least when Uncle Hugh wasn’t around.

  “I’ll need to see improved work more than one time for a pay raise.”

  The two of them had gone only a short distance when a din rang out that split the morning air. Ewan sucked in a breath and turned on his heel. The number one VerValen machine being used by the early morning crew had squealed to a grinding halt. Cupping his hands to his mouth and running toward the men, he shouted, “What happened?”

  “The VerValen!” one of the workers called out. “The mold pusher misjudged the empty molds and dumped his sander.”

  Ewan grimaced as he examined the machine. “I’m no mechanic, but from what I can see, we’ll need new parts before this machine can be repaired.” He looked at the man. “You work at this machine every day. How did this happen?”

  The man hiked a shoulder. “I was talking to Henry and didn’t check before I dumped the sander. We all make mistakes. It was an accident.”

  Ewan wasn’t an expert, but he understood the workings of the huge machine as well as did most of the men in the yard. Dumping a filled sander into the machine would cause enough damage to put the VerValen out of use until it could be completely cleaned and tested.

  Ewan shook his head. “For sure it was an accident, but one that could have been avoided if you’d been tending to your work instead of talking to Henry. You men think I am being hard on you, but there is a reason why you need to do good work. If we default on our contract, I cannot pay the bank. If I cannot pay the bank, the brickyard will close down, and there will be no jobs for any of you. So it matters if we have an arch of pale bricks in every kiln, and it matters if a machine is out of operation for a week or two. It is important to me, but it is just as important to all of you.”

  None of the men met his gaze, staring at the ground instead. He gestured to the mold setter. “Move to machine number two, and from now on, tend to your work. You can visit while you eat lunch.”

  He didn’t like being hard on the men, but their careless ways had to cease or this brickyard would fail. How he wished his uncle hadn’t purchased the extra equipment and pushed for so many contracts. How he wished they could have made a slow and steady gain in the business. But wishing wouldn’t change anything, so he and the men had to accept that they all needed to give their best effort, just as he’d had to accept that he wasn’t going to become a partner any time soon.

  Ewan trudged up the hill and found his uncle in the same spot where he’d left him. “Did you not hear the ruckus down in the yard, Uncle Hugh?”

  “Aye, but I figured you were down there and would take care of any problem that needed attention.” He took a long draw on his pipe. “What happened?”

  Ewan gave his uncle a quick explanation before stepping to the desk and withdrawing a file. “I don’t know how long it will take to get it cleaned and operating again, but for sure it will slow production.”

  “Guess that’s a bit of confirmation there’ll be no need to ask about a partnership for a while longer.” His uncle grinned and pushed up from his chair. “I trained a new burner while you were supervising over at the house. He’s a good man and learned fast—I got him scheduled for tonight.”

  Ewan massaged his forehead as his uncle departed. He hoped they’d complete setting the final arch in one of the kilns today and set the fires later today. It took an entire day for four truck men to wheel the bricks from the drying yard to the kiln while the two setters set an arch of thirty-five thousand bricks. Maybe he could assign a couple more men as wheelers. Ewan preferred to have enough men to set all fifteen arches in three days, but unless he had enough trusted setters on the job, burning had to wait. Firing without a full load was a poor use of resources that Ewan tried to avoid, but he’d rather burn a half-full kiln than one that wasn’t properly set.

  Ewan could only imagine how much training his uncle had given the new man he’d hired. If they completed setting the final arch this afternoon, Ewan would stay at the yard to watch and make certain the new hire understood how to start proper fires in the arches.

  For the remainder of the day, Ewan’s mind was in a whir. He spent more time than usual in
the yard, mostly overseeing the mechanic who was charged with taking apart the VerValen to see if it could be cleaned and put back together without a need for any new parts. From the man’s dour face, Ewan held out little hope the machine would be back in operation anytime soon. The one bright spot of the day occurred late in the afternoon when one of the setters ran across the yard and, with hair matted to his head and perspiration beaded on his forehead, panted news that the arches were ready to fire.

  “Signal me when the new burner gets here, and I’ll come over to watch him set the fires.”

  The man swiped the perspiration from his face and gestured toward the kiln. “He got here ’bout five minutes ago, but I told him not to do nothing till I let you know we was ready.”

  After instructing the mechanic to keep working, Ewan strode alongside the setter and into the kiln. He looked at the setter. “Did you make sure there’s no mistakes in the setup? We can’t afford any more problems.”

  “It’s good, Mr. McKay. We should get a good burn with all fifteen arches.” He nodded to the other side of the kiln. “That’s Rudy Banks over there, the new burner.”

  After thanking the setter, Ewan strode across the width of the kiln and introduced himself to the new employee. “I’m Ewan McKay. My uncle informed me this morning that he’d hired and trained you as a burner. Have you had any experience before coming to work for us?” Ewan hoped so, for his uncle’s experience as a burner was limited, and Ewan doubted his uncle had given the new man much training.

  “Rudy Banks.” The man extended his hand. “The foreman said the arches are ready, so I thought I’d go ahead and set the fires, unless you wanted to check ’em again.”

  Ewan shook his head. “Nay. I don’t plan to check them any further. Why don’t you show me how you plan to start your burn.”

  Ewan didn’t miss the fact that Rudy hadn’t answered his question about previous experience, and that bothered him a great deal.

  Rudy gestured toward one of the arches. “I’ll start with this arch first. Your uncle said to set a fire in the mouth of each arch.” He grinned as though that bit of knowledge alone should be enough to convince Ewan that he knew what he was doing.

  “Aye.” Ewan nodded. “You go ahead and I’ll watch.”

  The fellow had more confidence than experience, and Ewan had to stop him several times when he started to set the fire downwind rather than on the windward side of the kiln. “You need to always start the fire on the windward side so the smoke will blow through the arches.” Ewan pointed to the other side of the arch. “You need to start another fire there so the two fires build slowly and meet in the middle. Did my uncle tell you that?”

  “He did say I needed to set one on each side.”

  The man didn’t add that he remembered he was supposed to set another fire, and Ewan had his doubts the man remembered much of whatever Uncle Hugh had told him. Or maybe Uncle Hugh had gone through the steps so quickly the man couldn’t remember. But having an inexperienced burner begin without overseeing him for the first few times was asking for trouble.

  “It will take between forty and sixty hours for the fires to cross the arches and meet. The steam needs to escape evenly around the top.” Ewan continued alongside the man as he set each fire.

  “Ewan!” Martin O’Donnell, an experienced burner, ran toward the kiln. “Sorry I’m late, Ewan. My wife’s sick and with all the wee ones at home ’twas hard to get away.”

  “I’m glad you made it. This is Rudy Banks. My uncle hired him, but he doesn’t have much experience as a burner, so you’ll need to help him. He needs to learn how to watch the burn and how to increase or ease up the steam.” Ewan turned his attention back to Rudy. “Once the fires are increased enough that the steam becomes a bluish-black color, the kiln will be hot, but it takes a lot of hours before that will happen.”

  Martin rolled up his shirtsleeves. “We want to get the kiln hot, but it’s important to increase the heat gradually, so that means you need to watch the fires and the steam to make sure the kiln isn’t heating too fast. Elsewise, the bricks will stick together, run, or get twisted out of shape and cracked, and we’ll end up with lots of bricks that can’t be shipped to fill our contracts.”

  Ewan gave a firm nod. “And it also means you will have an unhappy boss.”

  Martin turned back toward Rudy. “Once the kiln is hot, the burning will take about six days, and then all the doors must remain sealed to prevent any air from getting in. The kiln has to cool for several days. After that, the bricks are approved and loaded onto the barges.”

  Ewan stayed with the men while Martin continued to explain the process to Rudy. If Uncle Hugh had trained Rudy, he’d done a poor job, for Rudy didn’t seem to know what would be expected of him.

  “I’m not so sure I like the amount of work that goes along with this job. Don’t you have something that doesn’t need so much attention?”

  “You can speak to my uncle. Since he hired you, he’s the one you need to talk with about a change. He should be back in the morning. In the meantime, you need to continue helping Martin set the fires.”

  Ewan strode away from the kiln and back to the office. He wouldn’t wait for Rudy to speak with his uncle. Once he got back home tonight, he’d tell Uncle Hugh the man wasn’t suited to be a burner. They could use additional setters, but Ewan doubted Rudy was a man who would be careful even with that task. Perhaps he could be a wheeler, but he’d best be ready for a cut in pay. A man pushing a barrow of bricks couldn’t expect the same wages as a burner, and Rudy should realize as much after witnessing the process.

  Chapter 20

  Since the Crotherses’ move to the area, Ewan’s aunt had met with little success of being accepted by the wealthy families of Bartlett. For more than a month, she’d been struggling to orchestrate a housewarming at Crothers Mansion. As the date for the party arrived, she’d made it clear they were all to be on their best behavior, for she expected the event would not only hail her as an excellent hostess, but gain her a foothold among the genteel members of society. Other than from the Woodfields, invitations to social events in the area hadn’t been forthcoming. A fact that increasingly distressed her.

  Although his aunt and uncle were still in the throes of moving to their new house, Uncle Hugh had been unable to convince his wife to wait another two weeks before hosting the party. Aunt Margaret had rebuffed his advice, but when she finally accepted the fact that she couldn’t accomplish both the party and moving, she’d called a halt to the move and proceeded with plans for the party at the new house.

  Ewan would be pleased when his aunt and uncle were finally into their new home. He’d tired of the grumbling that steadily increased with each passing day. He looked up from his breakfast as Uncle Hugh entered the dining room with a scowl on his face. “Half my clothes are in one house and half in the other. One day I may walk into this dining room wearing a shirt and no trousers.”

  “Hugh Crothers, that’s no way to talk. There are young ladies at the table.” Aunt Margaret’s brows knit into a frown that matched her husband’s scowl.

  “I see there are young ladies at the table, but that doesn’t change the fact that my clothes are spread between two houses and I can never find what I need. When are we finally going to be moved?”

  The couple continued their bickering throughout breakfast while Ewan, his sisters, and Kathleen remained silent, their focus upon their eggs, rashers, and boxty. Uncle Hugh and Aunt Margaret loved nothing more than to convince another family member to take their side during an argument. But Ewan, his sisters, and Kathleen had learned to avoid being drawn into the fracas.

  The couple was stopped short when someone pounded on the front door and Melva ran down the hallway to answer.

  “Who could be calling at this hour of the morning?” Aunt Margaret’s lips pursed into a knot of irritation. “With the party tonight, I have too much to accomplish today for any unexpected interruptions.”

  Melva scurried into th
e dining room. “One of the workers from the brickyard is on the porch, Mr. Ewan. He says you’re to come quick. There’s trouble at the yard.”

  Ewan jumped to his feet and his uncle followed close on his heels. Martin was wringing his cap between his hands and looked up as soon as Ewan arrived at the door.

  “We got two full kilns of ruined bricks.” Martin’s face was ashen. No doubt he’d not wanted to be the one to deliver the bad news.

  His uncle pushed in front of Ewan and grasped Martin by the front of his shirt. “How’s that possible? Are you the burner responsible?”

  Martin’s eyes shone with fear as he shook his head. “No, sir. It wasn’t me.”

  “Let loose of him, Uncle Hugh. He won’t be able to tell us anything if you scare him out of his wits.” Ewan nodded to Martin. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It was that Rudy fellow you hired, Mr. Hugh. I’ve been working to get him trained proper. He said he understood he had to keep a watch on the fires, and I stayed with him when we did three burns in other kilns, but he was alone last night after we set the fires. Guess he decided he could drink whiskey and still keep a watch on the fires. I don’t know how much he had to drink, but he was still sleeping it off when I got to work this morning, and the fires were burning way too hot.”

  Ewan dropped into one of the chairs on the front porch. “We won’t meet our quota for the row houses in Allegheny City, which means we won’t get our money on time to meet the bank payment.”

  “No need to be takin’ on the fear of doomsday. We’ll get down there and take a look about. It can’t be as bad as all that.”

  Anger swelled in Ewan’s chest as he jumped up and stood looking down into his uncle’s eyes. “What did I tell you the day you hired Rudy?” Ewan clenched his jaw until it ached.