hewer at the Osel shaft, of Kuttenberg
“Twenty years pulling silver from the Osel. I am a hewer, not a lowly hauler dragging carts.”
Things Hannes had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
That whoreson Markvart the Hare let a loaded barrow slip on the wet timber today. It came down right on my foot. Then the little bastard laughed and told me to go sort ore with the girls. If any man wants to knock him into the mud, I have a good lamp and tallow for his trouble.
Nota scribaeDictated while the man wrapped his crushed foot in dirty rags.
the feast of Saint George, at None
Benesh has been whining again about that iron pick. I told him he offered it until the gallery was fully cleared. Returning it means I drag carts on half pay, and dragging carts would kill me. I will not starve for him.
Easter is gone, Hannes. You promised it back by Easter. My late Martha would weep to see such theft between friends.
Stop blubbering about your wife, Benesh. The old man needs the pick more than you do.
the third day of Easter week, at Prime
Christ almighty, my knee aches like a rotten tooth this morning. I slept on the damp stone of the cellar and the chill is deep in the bone. Gilbert the Mouth kept talking half the night until Karl told him to shut his face.
I was only telling a good tale. It is not my fault you are deaf as well as lame.
We all work twelve hours a shift down there, Gilbert. Let a man sleep.
Nota scribaeThe dictation smelled strongly of stale ale and sweat.
the Friday before Laetare Sunday, at Sext
Bread is dearer this month with all these bloody soldiers on the roads. The King's brother brings nothing but misery to Bohemia. But down in the Osel shaft, the rock does not care who wears the crown. We just dig.
Ay, the bakers in the upper town are asking two pennies more for a loaf. It is a sin.
the eve of Saint Valentine, at Compline
Hans the foreman handed down his new rule. Every hewer must bring his own iron now. Saint Barbara preserve us, my old pick is worn to a nub. Benesh was good enough to lend me his spare. He is a soft-hearted fool, but he saved my wages.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You stepped right into the path, old man. You are as blind as a mole in the daylight.
I see well enough to swing a pick, you little shit.