PIONEER DAYS – STRUGGLING OUT OF POST-WAR RECESSION

By Robert J. Foley

[Welland Tribune, 9 March 1992]

In the early 1820s the peninsula was still struggling to re-establish the industries decimated during the war. A deep recession that followed the conflict slowed the process greatly as we have seen in the problems encountered by Merritt.

On the site of the Battle of Lundy’s Lane a small community began to grow. Austin Morse was a furniture maker and undertaker whose chapel still operated on Main Street today. Andrew Moss made cabinets, James Skinner was a harness maker, John Misener ran a wagon building operation and William Gurnan was the indispensable blacksmith.

One of the more prolific endeavors of those days was the distillery. One such operation was located at the foot of Murray Street in Queen Victoria Park. It was a stone structure and was there to take advantage of the spring that ran down the ravine. It was abandoned in 1826 and eventually housed Barnett’s Museum.

St John’s, near Fonthill, was one community that had escaped damage during the war and prospered. It boasted many mills and a number of distilleries. An iron foundry, tannery, saddle maker, a woolen factory and many others rounded out this thriving town. The Welland Canal put St. John’s into decline as industry moved closer to the canal banks and today little remains of its former glory.

In the southern part of the peninsula the Sugar Loaf sported a community that included saw mills and grist mills. It also had a blacksmith, harness maker, furniture maker and the inevitable distillery.

One of the most important workmen in the community was the blacksmith. The first thing pioneers demanded upon arriving in the peninsula in 1781 was the services of a good smithy. We always associate the blacksmith with shoeing horses, but his business went far beyond that. He made everything from door hinges to wagon wheels.

The blacksmith shop was a miniature factory. The heart of the shop was the forge that was made of brick. It was set on a stone foundation with a square brick chimney that went up through the roof to a height of four feet above the ridge pole. The hearth was a square box 12 inches deep set next to the chimney. The bottom of the hearth was a slab of iron with a hole in the centre to take the air nozzle or tuyere as it was called. The tuyere was a hollow, slotted iron bulb attached to a pipe leading to the bellows. Air could be directed to one side of the hearth or the other by the use of an iron rod that rotated it. The brick work was extended to form a table on which the smithy could organize his work or leave finished pieces to cool.

The bellows was a huge leather lung eight feet long and four feet across that was mounted behind the chimney. A large stone was placed on the top so as to create a constant pressure allowing a gentle stream of air to keep the coals hot. If the smithy needed a little extra heat he pulled vigorously on the wooden handle that was attached to a chain and extended to the front of the forge.

If the forge was the heart of the shop then the anvil was the soul. It was a 250-pound block of iron that measured 5 inches across, 20 inches long and had a 16-inch horn curving out from one end. Its top was a slab of steel wielded to the wrought-iron base. Two holes were cut in the rear part or heel of the anvil. The hardy hole was square to fit the many forging tools used by the smithy. The pritchel hole was three-eighths of an inch and round. It was used for punching jobs such as knocking nails out of old horseshoes.

The placement of the anvil was very important. Because the iron had to be heated at least once, if not more, the anvil had to be close to the fire. It was usually placed with the horn facing the fire. The height of the anvil was also critical. The black-smith custom-fitted his anvil to match his needs. If it was too high he would wear himself out swinging his hammer; if too low his hammer would not strike the iron squarely ideally, the bottom of the smithy’s natural hammer swing matched the height of the anvil.

The setting of the anvil was an exact science, for once in place it could not be moved. It was mounted on top of a post that was sunk four or five feet in the ground. With his anvil in place and coals glowing red in the hearth, the blacksmith was ready to do his work.

The iron that the smithy worked came from a bloomer furnace and showed a crystal structure. After forging, the crystals formed a grain that allowed the iron to bend without breaking.

The blacksmith often had to draw the iron to make it thinner and wider. Heating the iron until it was red hot, he then swung it to the anvil and struck it with his set hammer until it was no longer pliable enough to work. He would repeat the heating operation until he was satisfied that he had a workable piece of material.

The peninsula was coming of age, The Welland Canal was about to come a reality to change the loves of all who dealt in its shadow.