Likewise, the elaborate gates at Westover plantation were made for William Byrd II in England. A “Set of Iron Palisades and Gates curiously wrought,” sold as part of a prize cargo in Norfolk in 1748, probably came from France. When the House of Burgesses in 1768 commissioned a statue of the beloved Governor Botetourt, the sculptor, Richard Hayward of London, was also to provide the iron railing that surrounded the base of the statue when it was set up in the portico of the Capitol. One reason for importing ironwork for these large jobs may have been that local smiths were not equipped to handle them; more likely, the importation was politically wise since manufacturing in the colonies was discouraged by the British government.
Ornamental ironwork is less characteristic of the colonial Virginia scene than of Charleston, South Carolina, and New Orleans. Nevertheless, there are some survivals, none finer than these two gates at Westover plantation on the James River.
TOOLS AND TECHNIQUES
The bills and accounts quoted a few pages back, and others, give ample evidence that most colonial smiths could read and write—although their spelling (like George Washington’s) might have a way of its own. At least one Williamsburg blacksmith, Hugh Orr, seems to have been quite a reader; at his death in 1764 he left a library of about forty books. But neither he nor any other colonial smith sat down to write out and illustrate a description of the work he did and how he did it.
This is not intended to be a how-to-do-it manual either. A few pages of text and pictures can hardly substitute for the apprenticeship of as much as seven years through which a blacksmith gained mastery of his craft. Only the close daily supervision of an expert and years of practice will enable a smith to know when the eye of his fire is large enough—but not too large ... when the forced draft of his bellows has made the fire hot enough—but not too hot ... when his iron is red enough—but not too red ... when his hammer blows fall heavily enough—but not too heavily to accomplish the particular job at hand.
Readers unfamiliar with the processes and products of a smithy are likely to be strangers also to many of the smith’s tools—which makes for something of a problem in trying to describe them. For this and other reasons it seems wise to start with what may be the most familiar items today.
Nails. In the early years of the Jamestown colony land was plentiful and nails were scarce. They, like every other object of iron—except the “little chissels” mentioned by Captain John Smith—had to be brought over from England. When the soil of their tobacco fields was worn out, planters simply took up, cleared, and planted new land farther west. Sometimes they set fire to buildings on the abandoned land in order to salvage the nails for re-use, a practice that was forbidden by law in 1644.
However, nails were not difficult to make if one had a supply of wrought-iron rods and a few tools. Frontier farmers—which in eighteenth-century Virginia meant those living one or two hundred miles to the west of Williamsburg—sometimes spent winter days in nailmaking. The fireplace served as forge, and even the younger members of the family could wield tongs, hammers, and cold chisel or man the vise.
