Ringing the memory of the Kelly blacksmiths

When Pat Kelly recently took a hammer to a horseshoe on the blacksmith’s anvil in the Heritage Centre, writes Brian Byrne, his demonstration was echoing a sound that spanned generations across the road to where his grandfather had worked the same trade. And where his own father Joe had begun his learning of the craft.

It was very much a family affair all the way. “My grandfather and his four brothers were all blacksmiths," Pat says. "The family home in the square in Kilcullen was where my grandfather operated, and my father grew up with the trade before he joined the Army. He served on The Curragh and on Spike Island, but after a while my grandfather wrote to the Commanding Officer saying that he needed him home because the forge was so busy.”

So Joe came home, and later was given a discharge from the Army. He worked at the family business until he went to serve his time properly as a blacksmith with Paddy Myers of Mile Mill. Subsequently, after marrying Maggie Brady in 1947, he bought the property, home and business from his former employer.

In tandem with operating the Mile Mill Forge, Joe returned to The Curragh with the Office of Public Works, where he was in charge of maintaining all the ironwork such as gates and railings, and also installing stoves into the married quarters. “He was an absolute expert on getting draft right in chimneys. So much so that builders used to get him to help them get the angles right in chimney flues.” It was also part of Joe’s brief to look after the ironwork in Coolmoney Camp in Co Wicklow, and the shooting ranges. “All the targets were made of steel and he’d have to go and repair those.”

The business in Mile Mill was primarily agriculture based, making new teeth for ‘grubbers’, and pins for the pin harrows. He also made new teeth for the buckets used by his land drainage friend Dan Breslin from Brannockstown. “Nowadays, they’re all just bought as replacement parts.”

Pat has good memories of the work with horses, especially on Saturday mornings. Along with his brothers Joe, Ned and John, they looked forward to when people from all around would bring in their horses to have shoes fitted or repaired. “We all had our own little jobs to do. Pushing the bellows up and down, mixing the slack, drilling bars. But my father was very safety conscious and wouldn’t let us do anything in a way that could have harmed us.”

There was the fun part of it too. Many of Joe’s customers would leave their horses in for the work to be done and head on down to Markey’s Bar in Mile Mill village. “They could be there for much of the day. As the horses were shod, they were put out on the grass of the few acres we had behind, and we’d often ride them around bareback.”

There are some danger memories. One was when a local woman came in when her horse threw a shoe on the way to a local hunt. “I was about seven, and was watching as my father lifted the horse’s leg to fix the shoe. The horse attacked him and he had to jump over a fence to the house next door. If the horse had got him, he’d have been seriously injured.” It seemed that Joe had been shoeing a mare a little while before, and the smell of the mare spooked the horse. “He came back with some fairly choice language and settled the horse, fixed the shoe and they went on their way. But it was one of the nastiest incidents I remember.”

Joe Kelly also used to shoe the horses and foals in Newberry Stud, and for Ken Urquhart of New Abbey Stud. The latter brought an unusual perk when England was playing in the World Cup in 1966. “Mr Urquhart invited my father and myself into the house to watch it on TV. They were drinking bottles of stout and whiskey, and at the end we got on our bikes and rode home. I was never as sick in my life, because I had been drinking bottles of orange all through the match …”

Through all his contact with thoroughbreds, Joe Kelly gained a very good reputation as an expert in how to present young horses. “They’d be led along in front of him, and he’d be able to judge what way their feet were turning in or out. Then he’d pare the feet in a way that as they walked they’d look well in the sales ring, at Goffs or wherever.”

There was always music in the Kelly household. Pat's father was one of the members of the Kilcullen Parish Choir when it was in its heyday, winning medals and trophies and even a commendation from The Vatican. “He was part of the choir for well over 60 years, along with the likes of Bill Malone, Paddy Kelly and Tommy Dowling. They used to rehearse in one of our bedrooms, especially coming up to times like Easter and Christmas. And sometimes in the forge itself. I remember, there’d be cases of bottles of Guinness.”

The choir often featured on the famous ‘Radio Train’ to Knock Shrine, and Joe Kelly was also in the choir in the Phoenix Park when Pope John Paul came to Ireland in 1979. With so much music around, it’s not surprising that some of the family have carried that on. Pat and his brother John are both regular musicians at community events and other occasions. “I was in a lot of bands in my younger days. I started off as a bass player, and I used to practice in the forge. I remember one day a neighbour coming in, wondering what was the noise she was hearing, like thunder …”

Growing up in the forge also stood to Joe’s sons when they were setting out on their own careers. “We all got into engineering of some sort. I became a fitter, later with the posh title of maintenance technician. Joe became a mechanic, Ned was an awarding winning blacksmith and master farrier, and John is a blacksmith. I remember when I went to be an apprentice fitter after my 16th birthday, I was way ahead of the other lads, because I had grown up with it.”

So it was a very special ring down the ages, with a great deal of satisfaction, as he hammered that horseshoe during the recent Heritage Week presentation on Times Past in Kilcullen.



Photographs use Policy — Privacy Policy