Traditional Blacksmithing: The Fine Art of Horseshoeing and Wagon Making

PREFACE

HAT prompted the author to prepare this book was the oft - repeated question, by blacksmiths and mechanics of all kinds, as well as farmers: Is there a book treating on this or that? etc., etc. To all these queries I was compelled to answer in the negative, for it is a fact that from the time of Cain, the first mechanic, there has never been a book written by a practical blacksmith on subjects belonging to his trade. If, therefore, there has ever been such a thing as filling a long-felt want, this must certainly be a case of that kind.

In medicine we find a wide difference of opinion, even amongst practitioners of the same school, in treating diseases. Now, if this is so where there is a system, and authority for the profession, how much more so must there be a difference of opinion in a trade where every practitioner is his own authority. I shall, therefore, ask the older members of the blacksmith fraternity to be lenient in their judgment if my ideas don’t coincide with theirs. To the apprentice and journeyman I would say: do as I do until you find a better way.

The author has been eminently successful in his practice, and his ideas have been sought by others wherever he has been, blacksmiths coming even from other States to learn his ways.

This little book is fresh from the anvil, the author taking notes during the day while at work, compiling the same into articles at night.

He is indebted to a number of writers for articles in this book treating on subjects belonging to their trades, in which they have been regarded as experts.

CHAPTER I

THE SMITH

OR centuries the blacksmith has been a prominent person, and it is natural he should have been, when we consider the variety of work he had to do. From the heavy axle and tire, down to the smallest rivet in the wagon, they were all made by the smith. Bells and bits as well as the ornamental parts of the harness, they were all made by the smith. From the crowbar and spade down to the butcher and pocket knife, they were all made by the smith. The carpenter’s tools, from the broadax and adz down to the divider and carving steel, they were all made by the smith. From the heavy irons in the fireplace down to the frying-pan and locks on the kitchen doors; knives and forks on the dining-table, they were all made by the smith. From the gun on the shoulder of the soldier and the saber in the hands of the officer, the spurs and pistol for the commander, they were all made by the smith. From the heavy anchor and its chain to the smallest pulley in the rigging of the ship, they were all made by the smith.

THE SMITH

From the weather vane on the church spire, and the clock in the tower down to the lock of the doors and the artistic iron cross over the graves in the church yard, they were all made by the smith. No wonder, then, that the smith was respected. Vulgar people swear by the devil, religious by the saints, but the Swedes (the makers of the best iron) prefer to swear by the smith. The smith was a well-liked person in society, respected and even admired for his skill, his gentlemanly behavior and good language. His stories and wit were the sole entertainment in many a social gathering. Things have changed in the last few decades. Most of the articles formerly made by the smith are now manufactured by machinery, and the respect for the smith is diminished in the same proportion. Not because there is not enough of the trade left to command respect—there is yet more left than any man can successfully learn in a short lifetime. But it has made it possible for men with less training and ability to enter the trade and consequently lower the standing of the smith. The result is, that there is a complaint that the smith is not esteemed as formerly, and I have been inclined to join in the lamentation. But instead of doing this I shall ask my brother smiths to unite with me in an effort to elevate the craft.

THERE ARE SMITHS AND SMITHS

I have had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with a great number of intelligent and respected smiths. People that did not know them would ask: What is he? and when informed that he is a blacksmith would say: He doesn’t look it; I thought he was a business man: another, He looks like a lawyer or a minister. From this you will understand how, in many cases, the blacksmith looks. A great preacher was announced to preach in a neighboring town, and I went to hear him. Just as I sat down in the pew one of the local smiths walked up to me and sat down by my side. He was a blacksmith and he looked it. Under his eyes was a half moon in black; on both sides of his nose was a black stripe that had been there since his first day in the shop. His ears, well, you have seen a clogged-up tuyer iron. His clothes were shabby and his breath a strong mixture of tobacco and whisky, which made wrinkles on the nose of the lady in front of us. I was somewhat embarrassed, but the sermon began. As the congregation arose, I opened the hymnbook and my brother smith joined, and with a hand that looked like the paw of a black bear, he took hold of the book.

After service I was invited by the smith to dinner. Between a number of empty beer kegs we managed to reach the door of the house and everything inside looked the color of his trade. I looked around for books and other articles of culture and found a hand organ and a pack of cards. The only book or reading matter to be found was a weekly of the kind that tells of prize fights, train robberies and murder. I had a fair dinner and told my host that I had to start for home. By this time I was sick of his language—profanity, mixed with a few other words—and I started to leave. On my way to the livery stable I passed my friend’s shop, and he said it would not be fair to leave before I had seen his shop. I have, said he, "a very good shop.’’ The shop was a building of rough boards 18×20—the average farmer has a better wood shed. A big wood block like the chopping block in a butcher shop, was placed so close to the forge that he could only get edgewise between. On this block was to be found, anvil and all his tools, the latter were few and primitive, and would have been an honor to our father Cain, the first mechanic and blacksmith. What thinkest thou, my brother smith? Having spent years to learn the trade you must submit to a comparison with smiths of this caliber. Their work being inferior they must work cheap, and in some, perhaps many, cases set the price on your work. Smiths of this kind cannot expect to be respected. There might be some show for them in Dawson City or among the natives in that vicinity, but not in civilized America.

INTEMPERANCE

NE of the chief reasons why the blacksmith is not so successful nor respected as before is his intemperance. The danger for the smith becoming a drunkard is greater than for any other mechanic. It is often the case that when a customer pays a bill the smith is requested to treat. This is a bad habit and quite a tax on the smith. Just think of it—fifteen cents a day spent for liquor, will, in twenty-five years, amount to $9,000. Then add to this fifteen cents a day for cigars, which will, in twenty-five years, amount to $9,000 at ten per cent compound interest. If these two items would be saved, it will give a man a farm worth $18,000 in twenty-five years. How many smiths are there who ever think of this? I would advise every one to put aside just as much as he spends for liquor and tobacco; that is, when you buy cigars or tobacco for twenty-five cents put aside as much. When you buy liquor for one dollar put aside one dollar. Try this for one year and it will stimulate to continual effort in that direction. The best thing to do is to swear off at once, and if you must have it, take it out of business hours. Politely inform your friends that you must stop, or it will ruin you. If you drink with one you must drink with another, and the opportunity comes too often. When you have finished some difficult work you are to be treated; when you trust you are to be treated; when you accommodate one before another you are to be treated; when you order the stock from the traveling man you are to be treated. Some smiths keep a bottle in a corner to draw customers by; others tap a keg of beer every Saturday for the same purpose. No smith will ever gain anything by this bad practice. He will only get undesirable customers, and strictly temperance people will shun him for it. What he gains on one side he will lose on another. Besides this he will in the long run ruin himself physically and financially. Let the old smith quit and the apprentice never begin this dangerous habit. A smith that is drunk or half drunk cannot do his duty to his customers, and they know it, and prefer to patronize a sober smith.

RELIGION

RUE religion is also an uplifting factor, and must, if accepted, elevate the man. I cannot too strongly emphasize this truth. Every smith should connect himself with some branch of the church and be punctual in attendance to the same. There is a great deal of difference between families that enjoy the Christianizing, civilizing and uplifting influence of the church and those outside of these influences. The smith outside of the church, or he who is not a member thereof will, in many cases, be found on Sundays in his shop or loafing about in his everyday clothes, his wife and children very much like him. The church member— his wife and children, are different. Sunday is a great day to them. The smith puts on his best clothes, wife and children the same. Everything in and about the house has a holiday appearance and the effect on them of good music and singing, eloquent preaching, and the meeting of friends is manifested in their language, in their lofty aims, and benevolent acts. Sunday is rest and strength to them.

Brother smiths, six days a week are enough for work. Keep the Sabbath and you will live longer and better.

INCOMPETENCY

Another reason the smith of to-day is not respected is his incompetency.

When a young man has worked a few months in a shop, he will succeed in welding a toe calk on a horseshoe that sometimes will stay, and at once he begins to think he knows it all. There will always be some fool ready to flatter him, and the young man believes that he is now competent to start on his own hook. The result is, he hangs out his shingle, begins to practice horse-shoeing and general blacksmithing, and he knows nothing about either. Let me state here that horse-shoeing is a trade by itself, and so is blacksmithing. In the large cities there are blacksmiths who know nothing about horse-shoeing, as well as horse-shoers who know nothing about blacksmithing, except welding on toe calks, and in many instances even that is very poorly done. In small places it is different. There the blacksmith is both blacksmith and horse-shoer. Sometimes you will find a blacksmith that is a good horse-shoer, but you will never find a horse-shoer that is a good blacksmith. This is not generally understood. To many blacksmithing seems to mean only horse-shoeing, and our trade journals are not much better posted. Whenever a blacksmith is alluded to, or pictured you will always find a horse-shoe in connection with it. Yet there are thousands of blacksmiths that never made a horse-shoe in all their lives. Horse-shoeing has developed to be quite a trade, and if a man can learn it in a few years he will do well. I would not advise any young man to start out for himself with less than three or four years’ experience. Every horse-shoer should make an effort to learn blacksmithing. He will