Stealing the Stone of Destiny Transcript (Scotland: A Scottish History Podcast)
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Scotland - A Scottish History Podcast
Episode 49 - Stealing the Stone of Destiny
MICHAEL PARK: It is 1301. You take a step back and watch your gaffer, Walter of Durham, as he admires his work. After all, he’s done a lot of what you can see in Westminster Abbey - the gilding, decoration and the like. He’s a master craftsman alright.
He was responsible for most of the decoration of Westminster Palace too and even made a spectacular barge for the queen at one point. That was before your time though.
There’s something about this chair though. Beautifully carved and gilded with gold, festooned incredible coloured glass and with a relief of Edward the Confessor in its back. You feel like there’s a pride in him that you haven’t seen before.
Maybe it just looks so good next to that unassuming lump of stone that a few of the boys are now lifting carefully into the cavity that your master left in the chair.
So that’s the Stone of Scone, you think to yourself. Those Scots don’t have much imagination.
Edward I had brought the stone back with him from Scone abbey after smashing the Scots to bits. Everyone in England had rejoiced. Not so much because of the big lump of stone but whatever.
They say it was the throne that Scottish monarchs sat on when they were crowned.
You shrug. The Scots couldn’t hope to create something beautiful as this Coronation Chair. So why bother.
The stone rests and the boys stand back, allowing Walter to take another look at it in situ. He doesn’t dare sit on it, but he checks carefully that the stone aligns with the wood where one would usually sit.
He says it’s perfect. It had better be - Edward I isn’t known for being an easy-going patron. He’s also about half a foot taller than you - they don’t call him Longshanks for nothing.
The future kings of England will be the kings of Scots too. After all, there’s an inscription on the stone, rumoured to have been carved by King Kenneth McAlpin himself, which reads:
KING KENNETH MCALPIN: If Fates go right, where'er this stone is found, The Scots shall monarchs of that realm be crowned
MICHAEL PARK: Edward fancied the idea that if it was built into a chair in London then there would never be a Scottish King again.
This is Scotland, a podcast about history and where we made it. I’m Michael Park.
It is 1950. Not quite Christmas Eve. You are hidden in Westminster Abbey, freezing and questioning your life choices when suddenly a nightwatchman finds you.
He assumes you’re drunk and have stayed long past your welcome in the relative safety of the ancient abbey. He does his due diligence and asks you a couple of questions, but he’s way more interested in getting back to his three bar fire and a book to read too much into your motives.
Not exactly the most salubrious place to find Ian Hamilton, tailor’s son, law student… Scottish Nationalist.... But there you are, being shown out of the side door of an Abbey in London.
The side door that is not made of heavy oak wood as you’d thought when you started researching the abbey in your bedroom in Glasgow. It’s a side door made of flimsy pine.
Handy, you think. Since you’re not a drunk stayed too long in the relative safety of an ancient abbey.
You’re a burglar… and you’ve been casing the joint.
You’re not in it for the money though. Money never even crossed your mind on the long drive down from Glasgow. For you this is all about national pride.
The way you see it, the English took something that rightfully belongs to you.
Well… it belongs to all Scots.
You’re going to give the country a christmas present that will go down in history as ‘possibly the hottest Christmas gift of the century’.
That’s hot in the sense of the number of police officers looking for it, rather than its popularity.
You’re part of the Scottish Covenant Association, a group who advocate for Scottish devolution. The Scottish National Party decided to change to a policy of pursuing all out independence in 1942 and the the founders of the Association believed that pushing for the more moderate step of devolution first was the way to go.
You and the other three people you travelled to London with in a wee convoy of two Ford Anglias believe firmly in independence for Scotland.
Otherwise, you wouldn’t be doing what you’re planning to do.
In your mind Scotland is on the verge of becoming an also-ran. The country seems to be on its last legs and if no-one else is going to restore its national pride then you suppose it’s going to have to be you.
You’re going to steal the stone of destiny.
Or to put it another way - you’re going to liberate it.
Two of your accomplices are going back first thing in the morning to learn everything they can about the night watchmen’s shift patterns.
You have an advantage. After all, this is Westminster Abbey, the most venerated seat of English christianity. Nobody’s going to expect a robbery because stealing from a church - any church - is pretty base behaviour.
Look at Lés Miserables - just a few candlesticks can work out badly for everyone.
So when you slip through the construction yard and in through the door you were chucked out of, you find yourself in Poet’s Corner. Surrounded by the great and the good - Chaucer, Dickens, Kipling… all that lot - you sneak through to the Chapel containing the tomb of Edward I.
You pass the giant marble tomb, inscribed with the words:
Edwardus Primus Scotorum Malleus. Pactum Serva
Edward the First, Hammer of the Scots. Keep Troth
You consider leaving a token of your disrespect for the notion on the tomb but you don’t have much time. Just past the tomb lies a pretty dilapidated looking chair. If you’re honest you’d expected it to be a bit more… grand.
The gilding you’d heard so much about is stripped away to the wood and it looks like people have been carving their names and messages in it. There are some gaudy looking gold lions at the feet which weren’t part of the original design - just like they inscribed that rubbish about showing loyalty onto the tomb in the 1500s, they’d stuck these feet on sometime in the 18th Century.
You’re a student at the end of the day… you’ve done the reading.
Anyway - this is no time to get sidetracked. In the torchlight you can see the stone hiding away under the wooden seat of the big chair. Apparently when they first made the chair they used to just sit directly on the stone.
Just like the Scottish kings of old did.
The thought makes your blood boil as you start to jemmy apart the bar which runs in front of the stone. It begins to splinter and snap. It’s the first time you’ve felt even a little bit guilty - the chair itself doesn’t belong to you.
Now comes the big problem. The stone weighs 152 kilograms - that’s 23 stone in old money which you very much work in.
How are you, three scrawny students, supposed to force it out from its confined prison in the seat of the Coronation Chair?
Brute force isn’t going to do it - you realise that after trying for a few minutes. The stone wouldn’t budge.
So with one of you holding the torch, another using the crowbar to shift the stone and you pushing from behind, the Stone of Scone begins to move.
A plaque on the chair which reads Coronation Chair and Stone falls off. You catch it in midair and stuff it into your coat pocket - they’re not going to be needing it anymore after all.
Then with one final effort the stone breaks free of its confines. Gavin and Alan stagger back with the giant stone dragging their arms ground-ward.
Jesus, this thing was heavy.
Alan suggests that someone puts their coat down and you squirm out of yours and lay it on the ground. This will let you pull the stone by its iron rings and the coat will allow it slide along the ground.
That’s the theory anyway. You pull on one of the giant iron rings and instead of a giant stone moving along the flagstones of the chapel… the stone lifts up and away.
It’s much lighter than it was a second ago and Gavin, who is holding the other ring seems much lower down than you are.
That’s not good. That’s really, really bad.
The torchlight catches the section of the stone that you’re holding. It’s about the size of a football and is - without a doubt - no longer attached to the stone.
ALAN: We’ve broken Scotland’s luck!
MICHAEL PARK: You point out to Alan that the stone was already cracked. Your torch picks out discolouration that proves it. Some careless Englishman - you assume - has cracked it in antiquity.
Then Gavin politely reminds you both that you’re in the middle of a daring heist and the debate portion of the evening might be better left for later.
Gavin and Alan take the big piece and you sprint off, toting the hundred pound piece of stone like it’s a rugby ball. Kay - Kay’s the getaway driver - sees you coming and opens the door, letting you shove the broken piece of stone into the back.
You head back inside to where Alan and Gavin are dragging the stone toward you. Helping them, you accidentally crush the little plaque that you’d stowed in your coat pocket.
It’s a miracle that the nightwatchman doesn’t hear anything. Hopefully he’s still more interested in his three bar fire than in roving gangs of Scottish nationalists.
As you drag the stone through the door and into the cold night air, Kay appears from cover in the car. You jog over to tell her you need a few more minutes - this thing is heavy after all, this isn’t really any time to be macho.
There’s a policeman coming this way, she tells you, he’s seen me.
You both grab each other and start kissing. Your hands exploring nothing but the back seat for a coat to throw over the broken chunk of stone.
The policeman is a bit suspicious but your cock and bull story about being on tour and turning up too late to find a room seems to work for him. He even suggests a darkened car park down the road where you can… uhh… rest for the night.
It’s a pretty weird exchange to be quite honest but you know the car park just fine - it’s where the other car is parked.
It is now 5am on Christmas morning and the policeman seems content to while away the remainder of his shift chatting with you.
You drive off with Kay, leaving Alan and Gavin behind. You’ll go back but the performance has to be good.
She drops you off and you hurry back to the Abbey, only to find neither of them there. The stone is still there, hidden from view behind the hoarding but they must have panicked and done a runner.
Eventually they turn back up, having wandered off to look nonchalant in case they ran into an officer of the constabulary. You all get the stone loaded into the back of one of the Ford Anglias and the car sags at the back.
Gavin starts to get a bit itchy - what if the alarm gets raised and someone sees a heavily laden Ford Anglia driving North on Christmas Day. Not exactly subtle, is it?
You all agree to split up and head North separately.
With Kay having stowed her piece of the stone in the Midlands, and Gavin heading home by train, you and Alan drive back to Scotland, through roadblocks and checkpoints.
Word’s got out and the government has closed the border to stop anyone carrying the stone North. Luckily you’ve stashed the larger part of the stone in a field in Kent.
A field is a great place to hide a big dod of stone by the way - no-one’s going to be looking for a stone in a field.
A fortnight later and the Stone of Destiny is back in Glasgow. In a classic example of ‘waiting until the heat dies down’ you return to England after the police search has died down and recover both pieces of the stone.
You take it to a sympathetic stonemason who just happens to be Robert Gray, the founder of the Scottish National Party, and he puts the stone back together using a brass rod which contains a message, rolled up on a little piece of paper.
The only person who ever knew what the note said was Gray’s wife Marion. Its contents were in his will.
In years to come they’ll say that this is where the rumours come from. That the stone of destiny that you leave on the high altar of Arbroath Abbey, where the declaration of Arbroath was signed, might not be the real stone.
Of course that rumour has persisted for 700-odd years. They say that the real stone was hidden from Longshanks in the 1200s, now they claim that the stone taken from Westminster Abbey isn’t the one which turns up in Arbroath.
Only Robert Gray knows the answer - he claims to have put the message inside the ‘true’ stone of destiny.
Either way the authorities are pleased that the stone… a stone, whatever, has been returned and it makes its way back to Westminster Abbey in February 1952.
The police keep investigating and interview all of you. Kay, Gavin and Alan stay quiet, but eventually you confess to the whole thing. You’re not prosecuted - you knew you wouldn’t be.
After all, the removal of the stone had suddenly thrown the prospect of Scottish self-governance into stark light. The government wouldn’t risk sparking a political incident by prosecuting nationalists.
The Stone of Scone is in place as Queen Elizabeth is crowned in 1953. It remains there until 1996 when it is moved to Edinburgh Castle on the proviso it be provided to Westminster for the coronation of future monarchs.
You can still see it there today, although there are consultations about moving it to a new permanent exhibition in Perth, near Scone abbey.
After all, it’s not called the Stone of Edinburgh, is it?
CREDITS
You’ve been listening to Scotland, it was written and produced by me, Michael Park and is a production of Be Quiet Media.
Many of the little details about the removal of the stone itself come from Ian Hamilton’s book, No Stone Unturned.
The music for every episode of Scotland is by the true king of scots, Mitch Bain, you can check out more of his work at mitchbain.bequiet.media.
Jamie Mowat does stunning illustrations for us which you can see in our episode art. See more and buy prints at tidlin.com.
Scotland is supported by Chris Lingwood and listeners like you on Patreon. You can get loads more from us for as little as two dollars at: patreon.com/scotlandhistorypodcast
You can find out more about the show and read transcripts on our website, scotlandpodcast.net and on twitter, facebook and instagram by searching Scotland - Scottish History Podcast.
Thanks for listening, we’ll see you next time.