Of Cabbages and kings

The new year is off and running and though I am already a little out of breath I must return to the keyboard due to popular demand, well from some members of the family anyway.


"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

Some of the following verse is begging to be added here!

"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"

In my December blog I mentioned the Blacksmith who used to run his business near our corner, (before my time of course)
But even as I mention that another poem springs to mind, not Lewis Carol this time but Henry Wadsworth Longfellow himself:
Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
The folowing is from a Rowville History page


Stories abound about Nick and his blacksmith shop on the south-east corner of Wellington and Stud Roads. He certainly must have been a colourful character but also he must have been a skilful smithy as much of his work involved the shoeing of the Row family's team of high class show jumpers.

Ted Row showed his gratitude to Nick for his good work by presenting the show prize cards to him. By the time of Nick's retirement, all four walls of his shop were covered with the cards.

Gordon Dobson told me that, as a teenager, he used to take his horses to Nick to have their feet done. Nick was, according to Gordon, a strong man who liked boxing. One day a big Irishman came and invited Nick to put on the gloves and "He'd show him a thing or two". Nick obliged and knocked the Irishman backwards into the big trough of water he used for cooling the hot metal.

"On another occasion," said Gordon, "Nick came off second best when another powerful man, Jack Murphy of One Tree Hill, called in. Nick told Jack a yarn about how a very strong man had visited him the previous week and had lifted his anvil and carried it across the road. Jack saw that his reputation was being challenged so without a word he lifted the anvil, carried it across the road and heaved it over the fence. Nick had a terrible job getting the anvil back to the forge".


All of this reminds me of my early days at "Wattle View" Quambatook. We had the mandatory Forge, a shed clad with corrugated iron. The centre piece was the forge itself, energized by the bellows set at the rear of the forge. The bellows were operated by "pumping" with a long stick (read small straight limb from tree about 3 inches down to 2 inches in diameter), this stick reached from the rear of the bellows to the front of the forge and could be swung to one side or the other to escape the heat from the burning of the home made charcoal. Close to the forge stood a large and heavy anvil, and alongside the anvil, a barrel of water used for cooling, and of course tempering the hot metal. Along one wall stood the bench made from heavy bush timber.
On the bench was a large old fashioned vice, scattered around the vice lay various tools. One of the walls was adorned with tongs, different shapes and sizes. these were used for holding the hot metal as it was beaten into shape with a hammer on the anvil..
Outside the entrance lay a great pile of metal, bits and pieces accumulated over many years. This metal was absolutely essential for any manufacture or repair for there was no shop nearby or money to buy had there been such !

Here is a photo taken c1970 when there was still some evidence of existence of the forge.
Standing is part of an old chaff cutter. The circular brick construction is the forge itself on its original site.
Behind the forge and toward the tree lie the rotting bellows.
As I look more closely at the “chaff cutter” I believe it could have held the large round sand stone which was turned by hand




















I mentioned above the “home made charcoal” I remember a couple of occasions my Dad making the charcoal.
It went something like this, My Dad had dug a large hole in the ground about 4 feet deep and six feet in diameter. In the hole he placed all sorts of bits and pieces of hard mallee wood, including mallee roots, I think!
This large amount of wood was set alight and at the appropriate time (I’m not too sure exactly at what stage of combustion) a large cover was put over the burning hole, (a top off an old water tank) and this lid was covered with dirt. I imagine that this was left for many days before opening and saving the charcoal which resulted.

I realise I haven't got around to the cabbages and Kings but I will stop now while you are still reading avidly and return with the rest of the subject not many days hence