#87 THE BLACKSMITH AND MAKING ASSUMPTIONS
RICHARD HARPER, JR.
There are
so many ways I play at my genealogy hobby/passion. A lot of time is spent adding
generations to the family tree and I cast a very wide net of whom I include
(eg. 10th cousins 4 x removed,
father-in-laws of 3x great uncles—everyone is fair game) I enjoy researching
trivia like historical events, occupations, transportation, wars, fashion that
affected these people (you never know what you don’t know and how fascinating
the little details). I use google to get a street view of where my kin lived.
There are always more genealogy skills to hone and photos to locate and scan
and organize. Digitized newspapers are such fun to read and besides the
weddings and obituaries are full of juicy local gossip (who visited whom, how
big was that fall pumpkin, gory descriptions of a local murder or accident,
advertisements. And I love finding the family eccentrics and black sheep.) Especially satisfying for me is the deep-dive into generations
of one family branch trying not only to trace its chronology but then
speculating about their emotions and personalities and what motivated their economic
and social decisions. My families were simple, hard-working people; they did
not have the time, ability, interest, or inclination to leave tomes of written
reflections about their life adventures. So I know that as I reflect on these
people, I may be so mistaken in thinking why they might have acted as they did.
One such case study is my 2x great uncle, Richard Harper (1839-1907).
Richard was
the oldest son of Richard Harper and Jane Oliver Lemin. He had 10 siblings;
five of the children were born in Co. Cornwall, England and emigrated with
their parents to Canada in 1848, and settled in Pilkington Township, Wellington
County. The other six children were born in Canada (including my
great-grandmother, Ann Harper (1863-1956), the youngest in the family. I
remember her.)
Rather than
taking up farming like his father and later his brothers, Richard decided to become a blacksmith. There
was a great need for apprentices in the Guelph area so this seemed a wise
decision.
Blacksmith quotes: Strike while the iron is hot. Too many irons in the fire. To go at something hammer and tongs. That's got a good ring to it. (reference to the bell-like ring of an anvil.) Beat the daylights out of it. Don't lose your cool.
Blacksmithing in late 19th-century Ontario was a vital economic and social trade as it supported the colony’s agricultural, transportation, and industrial development. The smith was the jack-of-all trades. While famers cared for their tools, it was the smith who was trained to make and repair those tools. Using forge, anvil and hammer, the smith worked iron, the most common metal of the age, to produce hammers, axes, adzes, files, hoes, scythes, chisels and carving tools. He made nails, screws, springs, bolts, chains, clamps, hinges, latches, fireplace cranes, pokers, spits. He was needed to repair and make agricultural equipment such as the wrought-iron tips on the wooden ploughs. Specialized blacksmiths called farriers shod horses, essential for transportation and farming. Blacksmiths forged the iron components for wagons and carriages, including wheels, axles, and fittings. The smith made basic household things like cooking utensils, knives, forks, spoons, spits, ladles and fire tongs. And not only were they workplaces but also gathering spots where community news and ideas were exchanged.Richard Harper was a young teen when he went to live and train with a Wellesley, Ontario blacksmith. He also blacksmithed in Salem and Elora. It was the norm for the apprentice to live in the home of the master smith so he could be taught manners and morals as well as the craft. Contracts would stipulate that the master smith provide food, clothing, shelter and instruction.
Blacksmiths believed their work had to maintain certain standards and did this through an apprentice system. Apprentices started by doing simple tasks like sweeping floors and running the bellows, then they would learn more complicated tasks like heating and bending iron. An apprentice could spend entire days just crafting nails—a good apprentice could produce 1000 nails a day.
Another way smiths taught iron-making skills to their trainees was to teach them to make iron-interlocking puzzles; the puzzle-making taught them to twist, turn and shape the hot iron—all required for the art of blacksmithing. The puzzles would then be sold to local taverns to entertain the clientele.
By the end of his training, the apprentice was able to make everything from carpet tacks to huge metal spikes, from decorative iron works to kettles and ploughs. To then become a journeyman, the apprentice would have to create a master piece that was approved by their master. Now a journeyman, the blacksmith would travel and work for other blacksmiths to improve his skills and earning enough to open his own shop. In Wellington County, a journeyman often could complete his training and earn enough money to set up shop within three or four years of serving his time as apprentice.
To perform his tasks, the blacksmith needed to
combine brawn, skills and intelligence. Contrary to popular myth, blacksmiths
could read and write. Literacy was necessary as blacksmiths had to keep
accounts of their business, order supplies and conduct their business
practically and efficiently. While book-learning prepared him to run his own
shop, the shop work prepared him to produce his best work. Poor shoeing or
ill-wrought wagon repairs were quickly rejected by customers.
The life of a blacksmith, although highly respected, was a dirty, tiring job. Blacksmith shops were notoriously dark; but the dark was a necessary for the smith to monitor the degree of heat being generated as he hammered his objects. The work was hard and the pay was low even for master smiths. (Until the mid 19th century, payment was often “in kind”, rather than cash; clients often paid off their bills with scrap metal, old iron, meat or produce or by working in the smith’s garden, shop or home. In 1830, blacksmiths in Guelph made $1.25 a day.) Blacksmiths in Wellington County greatly contributed to the growth of the community through their trade and skills, but they were not active politically or socially; they did not run for political office, sit on boards of trade or actively lobby as a group for better roads or railroads. Likely this was because they were too busy putting in an average of 14 hours days and unable to afford the time away from the shop.
By the time
Richard had completed his training, new technology was changing the role of the
local blacksmith. Now there seemed to be two occupation paths. One was to
specialize in horse-related matters such as horseshoeing. The other was to find
work in a foundry, such as carriage and implement manufacturing, but where,
sadly his craft was devalued and he was reduced to the status of a labourer in
a factory system. His independence was reduced, his significance within the
community greatly diminished. This was reflected in his wages; where a smith
earned $1.25 a day in 1830, this only increased to $1.52 by 1889. The arrival
of the foundry system marked the end of the traditional craftsman, divided work
among individuals, and introduced de-skilling. The blacksmith, once so
important to the community, became merely an employee in a foundry.
On March 20 1862 Richard, aged 22, married Mary Amy, aged 23, in Elora, Ontario. In 1867, his blacksmith business in Elora went bankrupt. The couple moved to Oakville, a town which was flourishing mid-century with the establishment there of many foundries, tanneries and a half dozen factories turning our carriages, sleighs and wagons. It seems most likely that Richard found employment as a blacksmith in one of these industries.
Four children—two boys and two girls—were born to Richard and Mary during the 1860s. Then tragedy. On June 28, 1872, daughter Lily Josephine was born. Four days later, Mary, aged 34, died of postpartum sepsis. It starts as fever, then the infection leads to blood poisoning. Women often became delirious, would slip in and out of consciousness, with vivid illusions and talking incoherently. Puerperal fever accounted for as many as half of all maternal deaths in the Victorian era and was feared because it seemed to unpredictably occur in women who had a normal, healthy labour; it is caused by an infection of the womb and doctors, midwives and their instruments were the unwitting cause of the spread.
Richard’s children
were sent to live with various relatives in Wellington County. Son Thomas was raised by his
uncle Aaron Harper, John Wesley by his paternal grandparents Richard and Jane
Harper, Mary by her maternal uncle and aunt, Richard and Sarah Amy. While the
children were separated, fortunately, these farms were all very close to one
another in Pilkington Township. It is unknown (although suspected) that baby
Lily did not survive infancy or childhood.
Richard must have been devastated to lose wife and family. As well, Oakville was going into an economic depression; it lost its harbour and then the major foundry closed. How secure was Richard’s income? His emotional state?
In Toronto, the following year on April 10, 1873, Richard, aged 33, married Jennie Gibson, aged 24. Three children were born in Oakville. In 1879 Richard went to northern Michigan, seeking work as a blacksmith in a sawmill town. Jennie and the 3 children followed the next year. They soon relocated to Missouri where three more children were born.
Within a few years, Richard and Jennie’s marriage fell apart as shown by the 1900 US census. Richard was living in Chicago, working as a blacksmith: he was boarding in Ward 4, which was a working-class neighbourhood near factories, warehouses and railyards; later he took work as a hotelkeeper. Meanwhile Jennie lived with/near their children in Kansas City, Missouri. What is significant is that both Richard and Jennie identified themselves as widowed on this 1900 census, even though both ex-spouses were definitely still living. Was this a convenient way to avoid a divorce? Or had Richard abandoned his family and she did know his whereabouts??
Richard, aged 68, died Nov 21, 1907 (coincidentally, today, as I write this is the anniversary of his death). He is buried in an unmarked grave in Forest Home Cemetery, Cook County, Illinois. A short death notice was posted in the Elora newspaper so he must have been in touch with some family members.
Elora Express Dec 4, 1907Jennie, aged 75, died at her daughter’s home in Kansas City and was buried in the Elmwood Cemetery in Kansas City.
Elmwood Cemetery, Kansas City
Richard’s
story haunts me and poses so many unanswered questions. How was he affected by
the death of his first wife? When did he
last see the children of his first family? Why did he move to the US? What
caused the disconnect with his second wife? Did he ever have a relationship
with the six children of that second family? He was survived by ten children,
yet why did he die alone in a rooming house in Chicago? It is not fair to play
amateur psychologist, but I wonder at his long-term emotional state. Did he
have health issues? Did he ever get
satisfaction from working at his trade or were changing times eroding that
confidence too? Time has erased the answers to my questions. But the one thing
I know for almost certain is that my Uncle Richard would be stunned to know that, more
than a century after his death, his niece would be researching and “blogging”
about his life.
RICHARD HARPER b. August 6 1839 in Cardingham, Co.Cornwall, England m. Mary Amy (1838-1872) on Mar 20 1862 in Elora, Ontario m. Jennie Gibson (1848-1924) pm April 10 1873 in Toronto d. November 21 1907 in Chicago, Illinois
A sad way to go - alone.
ReplyDeleteHe died fairly young, perhaps a reflection of his hard life as a blacksmith.
ReplyDelete