Category Archives: On Blacksmithing

Four days of thesis immersion research at Old West Forge

Blacksmiths and mythology

I just spent four days in a kind of crucible, an excellent “Story Masters” writing workshop with Donald Maass, James Scott Bell, and Christopher Vogler. Vogler, author of the well-known The Writer’s Journey, led off the sessions by talking about myth, how myths are metaphors for universal mysteries.

Which got me thinking again about blacksmiths in mythology, a subject I had not visited since first launching this project. Back in the beginning, when trying to figure out the psyche of a blacksmith, I had looked into the Greek myth of the lame smith Hephaestus (Vulcan), who on Zeus’ orders created the beautiful, yet fateful, goddess Pandora. Zeus, his father, made him do it. In The Illustrated Book of Myths (Philip) I made a note about this additional story:

Zeus and Hephaestus: to cure Zeus of a terrible headache, his son, Hephaestus, struck him with an ax; Athena sprang, in full armor, from the cut in his head.

Ouch. Reminds me of the god Thor with his hefty hammer, how in one of the Norse myths Thor kept pounding it in the head of a sleeping giant. Today, I did some more exploring, which led me to this website: PANTHEON: ARCHETYPAL GODFORMS IN DAILY LIFE. Wow, a thesis and a half. I give you two excerpts:

Hephaistos, God of the Forge, is the personification of subterranean and terrestrial fire, including human lustiness. … His dominion over primal fire ranges from the wild force of volcanic activity to the harnessed fire of metallurgy. He is the archetypal mechanic or engineer. Technological man has inherited his legacy, and his woundedness, and in this regard Hephaestos shares something in common with Prometheus who stole “fire” from the Gods. The boon carries a bane inherent within its nature — for one thing, he is preoccupied, even obsessed, with details. We see this today in the obsessive loner techno-geek type.

I love how Miller concludes with the loner techno-geek. Below a whole lot of Tarot, Qabala, astrology, and Jungian thought, she lists additional 21st century professions that contain archetypal blacksmith characteristics.

I also happened upon a wealth of good blacksmith storytelling (for instance, The Blacksmith and the Devil) at Anvilfire! Enjoy.

Wrought iron curiosity

Before signing up for a four-day, beginning blacksmithing class at Old West Forge, I called first with some questions.

“I need to learn about 19th century blacksmithing methods–I understand blacksmiths back then used to work with iron, and use a coal-burning forge?”

“We don’t use a power hammer here or anything like that,” Tim Middaugh said. “You’ll learn to forge by hand. But if you’re looking for iron, you’re not gonna find it here. We use steel stock, and propane forges.”

I went ahead and took the class, and got a lot out of it. And later I was able to see a coal forge in action when I visited Freidelsheim, Germany, so I didn’t feel as if I had lost out.

Still, I’ve always been a bit confused by the idea that wrought iron is no longer available. I ran across the same situation when I talked to Roger Shell at the Camlann Medieval Village about the “living history” blacksmith shop there.

“We’re thinking about forging an anvil,” Roger told me, “the way they were once made in medieval times. Trouble is, we have to wait until we collect enough iron. It’s not available anymore, so we have to get it off old junk, farm tools, that kind of thing.”

When my great-great-grandfather began his apprenticeship in 1857, I’m sure they were working with iron. Up until the end of the 19th century, it was the lifeblood of the blacksmith. Recently, I came across a terrific book called The Blacksmith: Ironworker and Farrier (Aldren A. Watson), about 19th century blacksmithing methods. The first chapter is about wrought iron, with simple and helpful definitions of various types of metal.

“Pure iron as such does not exist in a natural state. Rather, the constituents of iron are trapped in [iron] ore; in order to combine and release them, a smelting process is required. The smelting of iron ore yields a metal which always contains some carbon, the exact amount of which variously influences the characteristics of the finished iron. The more carbon it contains, the harder, more brittle, and more easily fractured it will be. Thus, cast iron is a variant of the metal which has a fairly high carbon content; iron with a moderate amount of carbon is a steel; and an iron with very little carbon in its final composition is wrought iron. … The smelting process used by New England ironmakers was an ancient one. Their wrought iron was still being made in individual, small batches by the direct process–a one-run-at-a-time method that produced blacksmith iron that could not be matched for forging qualities by any other method. This smelting process did not undergo any real change until nearly the end of the nineteenth century.”

A footnote is added, stating that the manufacturing of steel alloys has made wrought iron obsolete ” almost to the point of being a curiosity.”

Reviving what was (almost) lost

The shift from the 19th to the 20th century was dramatic for its increased reliance on machines, which rang the death knell for the ancient art of blacksmithing.

“At the beginning of the 19th century, with the industrial revolution, the blacksmith craft had passed its peak. The increasing precision in dimensions of the milled iron stock fundamentally changed the appearance of finished works. Chamfering and texturing was supposed to recreate the old familiar look.

“The development of cast iron has to be considered as an additional factor contributing to the descent of blacksmithing, and the invention of new welding techniques (gas and arc welding) was the final major step towards the decline of the art of traditional blacksmithing.” (From The ABCs of Blacksmithing by Fridolin Wolf, Blue Moon Press, 2006.)

I keep an eye out for signs of the “old methods.” Here is a photo I took during a visit to Roosevelt University’s Auditorium Theater in Chicago. The building, constructed in 1887, is replete with hand-crafted balustrades.

The art of blacksmithing might have evaporated entirely, except for a few people like Francis Whitaker. Here is a Youtube of Francis Whitaker instructing others on how to make a wrought iron gate. There are important levels of initiation into the art — apprentice, journeyman, master. The way Francis Whitaker kept the craft alive was by visiting the old masters in the U.S. and Europe, and subsequently, passing his knowledge down to those eager to learn.

In 1966, just as the popularity of TV dinners were threatening yet another corrosion of people doing for themselves, the Foxfire magazine was born, a publication that began to revive ancient knowledge via interviews with residents in the Appalachian Mountains of Northeast Georgia. Numerous books and how-to publications have sprung from this initial effort.

But it appears a revival of this ancient art is underway. My niece who is currently attending CSU in Fort Collins tells me in her backyard, her roommate has cobbled together a blacksmithing forge. I hear the membership of the Northwest Blacksmith Association continues to rise. Such reports give me hope that all is not lost.

Blacksmith axes and the tomahawk

Because I’m researching and writing about early American blacksmithing methods, people are always telling me: “You must go to Colonial Williamsburg.” And they’re right–it is an amazing place. But not the only one.

Here’s another place I must go: Prickett’s Fort in West Virginia. Housed in a fort built in 1774, “Prickett’s Fort State Park uses a living history style of interpretation to preserve, document and exhibit the past.”

I happened upon it while searching around for more details about blacksmithing apprenticeships. Here’s a guide published by Prickett’s Fort: Blacksmithing of the 18th Century. In it, I found useful info about apprenticeships, and, as is usually the case on these research forays, something more.

The blacksmith in the 18th century could make or repair just about anything of that time, but probably his greatest accomplishment was what is known as the American Ax. Sometime around 1700, the blacksmith added a square poll on the back of the ax, which added more weight. Then by the mid-1700s, the ears were added to the eye, the square poll was elongated, and the eye was changed from round to a triangle shape. All of this added to the stability in the swing of the ax and it has seen very little change in the last 225 years.

Another important invention, that took place in the 1740s -1750s, was the pipe tomahawk. These were highly prized by the Native Americans, for they loved to smoke and make war on the settlers. The Native Americans already had the tomahawk, beginning with the first encounters with Europeans. This version added a pipe bowl and hollowed out the handle to create one of the biggest trade items used by Native Americans as well as white settlers. These were produced until well after the Civil War.

Okay, I admit the language of the guide where it says Native Americans “loved to make war” is suspect, but putting that aside, I was intrigued. On further research, the existence of the pipe tomahawk is pretty widely known; more ornate versions are still made today. May the adventures of history research never end.

Blacksmithing is “primal, raw and useful”

This morning I opened the Seattle Times to “Northwest Wanderings” article about a local blacksmith shop. Some nice pictures can be found at the Seattle Times web site. The forge is in Belltown, 2316 Second Ave. in downtown Seattle, and they are hosting an open house this weekend.
Friday: 5 to 9 pm
Saturday: 11 am to 6 pm
Sunday: noon to 5 pm

Just sayin’.

Due yesterday

Time is up! My thesis was due yesterday. If I intend to graduate in August, my thesis should already be in the hands of my first reader. Not quite there yet, but there is still (a ray) of hope.

Technically, I’m beyond the research stage and full-square into the writing. “Full-square?” you ask. Just today I found out “full square bolts” had a place in the carriage industry. Here’s a link to a page with historical information on blacksmithing carriage bolts.

Oops, back to writing.

Blacksmiths and tulips

This weekend I attended the Northwest Blacksmithing Association Conference at Skagit Valley Fairgrounds in Mt. Vernon.

The weather was fine, the tulip fields splendid, and as always, the blacksmiths uniquely creative.

And creatively unique. I enjoyed watching Team Mayhem make steel from iron and carbon (and a few other mystery ingredients) in a mudded-in chimney. The results were colorful, bright white and almost molten.

Lots of other stuff going on, too. Some hands-on workshops, a station with forges and anvils so members could create things on their own,  and “wars” where participants competed. Being the literary type, I lurked through the library and found some gems for my thesis research.

It seems the ancient art is alive and well. Thanks to the NWBA for their laid back, metal-making vibe.

ColumbiaKids Making History: Hammers and Anvils

The Washington State Historical Society (WSHS) has it going on, with the History Museum in Tacoma, the Capital Museum in Olympia, plus a terrific research center and other resources. My article “Hammers and Anvils recently appeared in their ColumbiaKids “Making History” section.

Hammers and Anvils

A shout out to the ColumbiaKids team, especially Stephanie Lile, Managing Editor, for a terrific publication.

Proud member of the NWBA

Sometimes we need to be sad, and although my research tour of the Rhineland was a most marvelous and unforgettable adventure, I returned to a hospital bedside vigil and the death of my 89-year-old aunt, which laid me low for a while.

A couple of weeks have gone by, and only now am I beginning to feel the deep underwater pressure of grief lessen. As I re-emerge, I’ve been writing, and wondering: What would help reawaken my sense of direction? What would give me that extra push to keep going and draft this manuscript about 19th century culture, and crafts, and lifestyle that happened long ago.

And then it hit me, loud as the clang of a sledgehammer on metal. Keep making history live. Join the Northwest Blacksmith Association. I’ve been meaning to become a part of the organization ever since my class in Blacksmithing in June at Old West Forge (see O, a Blacksmithing We Will Go and posts following). So I signed up.

Once again, the creative fires are stoked …

Friedelsheim Blacksmiths

When my relatives take me to see an historic working blacksmith shop in Friedelsheim (a village not far from Freinsheim), it feels like I’m seeing the ghosts of my deceased ancestors. Albeit stalwart ghosts.

When these men laugh, the whole room rumbles. Matthias tells me they are speaking in a very heavy Palatinate dialect, the kind that booms like a subwoofer from the back of the throat.

It’s the most authentic blacksmithing I’ve witnessed to date. Note the coal forge, and the enormous bellows hanging from the ceiling (double click on photo to enlarge).

“I asked the guy about that,” Dave said to me after I’d roamed the shop taking photos of everything in sight. “He said the bellows are just for show. One of these guys had their oven vent fan replaced at home, so they brought the old one down and installed it here. That’s what they’re really using.”

Close enough. After the visit to the Schmiede, I study 19th century relics in a side room— a machine to form iron wheel casings, a drill press, a leather-punch.

When I finally tear myself away, we walk over to a bakery for a peasant “treat” – bread spread with lard, then topped with salt and radishes.