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0589.
Martin Sunderland Stead the blacksmith at his anvil, from Illustrated Leicester
Chronicle 9 October 1937 page 5.
Museum Pieces At Village Smithy
Do you know how the Devil became cloven-hoofed? There is a
traditional story which relates that Satan was wielding an adze,
which he found difficult to employ, when the tool slipped. According
to the legend the divided hooves were the result of the accident.
Mr Martin S Stead, the Harby blacksmith, told me that this tale of
the archfiend's clumsiness in exercising the cutting tool, which has
an arched blade at right angles to the handle, was often narrated by
his father, a wheelwright. Mr. Stead possesses an old document which
shows that for two centuries the music of the Harby anvil was
produced by members of the Kemp family. These smiths are progenitors
of Mrs. Stead. Examining the Harby parish register for particulars
of the Kemps, Mr. Stead found that it begins abruptly at 1700. It is
said that a clerk used the earlier records to make a shroud for his
wife, there being an old superstition that parchment would ward off
evil spirits.
The Man From Alaska
Eighty years ago the Kemps sold the business, but 50 years later a
member of the family, returning from Alaska, where he had made good
as a fur trader and trapper, purchased it, and since then there has
been no change of ownership. The present smithy is 80 years old. Its
predecessor had a roof of thorns. Imprinted on the door of this
vanished blacksmith's shop was a variety of initials, according to
the manuscript, dated 1850, in the possession of Mr. Stead. In order
to determine whether branding-irons made at the smithy would produce
clear, well-shaped letters, the craftsmen applied the instruments to
the door. The faded handwriting on stained paper of T. Kemp, of
Harby, who states " I have seen seventy-four Christmas days,"
provides the information that James Kemp, born at Hose in 1672, was
apprenticed to a smith at Harby. Serving his master seven years, he
went to Southwell when out of his time to acquire skill in making
chains and gear for ploughing. " Horses draw'd all in ropes at that
time," the chronicler explains, and he describes how James Kemp
returned to Harby and was the first smith in Leicestershire to
produce the improved ploughing equipment, prospering by its
production. The chronicler himself was at work " betimes in the
morning and late at night." "We often had twenty pair of plow irons
to be done by six o'clock in the morning," he recalls in the
manuscript.
Harking Back
Mr. Stead can hark back to the days when work began at the forge at
six in the morning; when iron hoops for children were made by smiths
; when the gruesome docking shears were employed in cutting short a
foal's tail; and he can give a harrowing description of the
application to the stump of the tail of a red hot iron and resin. A
century-old pair of docking-shears, long disused, is among the
museum pieces at the Harby forge. There is also to be seen a twitch
— a cord twisted by a stick, fastened to the upper lip of a
refractory horse for controlling it — which is twice as old as the
former relic. Among the interesting collection of horse-shoes at the
smithy is one of great antiquity, discovered during the
reconstruction of the Fosse way. Corroded handmade nails were found
with the shoe. Another shoe bears the initials of a young man who
left Harby some years ago to settle in Canada. If he should ever
return, to his native village, the memento will be presented to him.
Artistic Ironwork
Mr. Stead displayed an attractively fashioned trivet of his own
making. He has exhibited similar small pieces of ironwork at the
Royal Show and various exhibitions.
To-day, of course, the clang of the anvil is heard less frequently
than in 1891, when Mr. Stead commenced his apprenticeship at Long
Clawson, and rural community councils and similar organisations are
providing the incentive for the making by smiths of articles useful
and ornamental in the home. An intriguing feature of the smithy is
the variety of ingenious uses for the horns of cattle. A cow's horn
serves as a receptacle for water in which tools are slaked; another
has been fixed to the handle of the bellows, as a grip. Mr. Stead
smilingly informed me that during his thirty years as a blacksmith
he had worn out three such grips.
D. W. G.
Barbara Stead collection. |