Geordie Fulton’s Forge
A short extract from Listen Closely: an oral history of Kilbarchan1900-2000
Geordie Fulton’s Forge
Horses were not just for use on the farm – the movement of goods to and from the station, and neighbouring towns, the delivery of coal, milk and groceries – all relied on the animal. As the use of the horse declined, the sight of one in the village was fascinating, particularly when it was in Geordie Fulton’s forge.
Horses would be taken there, up the brae, to be shod. Helen Dooris remembered the smell.
‘There was no other smell like Geordie Fulton burning horses hooves . . . the best smell in the world! The cry would go up that he was burning the hooves, they would gather round the front and side door of the smithy sniffing up the smell! This was right on the corner opposite Bobbins. At that time the bus came up the brae. Geordie lived above the smiddy; don’t know how many times the corner was taken off his roof by the bus.
Jeff Webster had the absolute joy of helping the blacksmith, something to contravene all health and safety laws.
‘Fulton’s Forge was at the top of Steeple Street. Geordie Fulton shoed the Clydesdale horses. Kids would look in the front door. He would pick out a child to help. I held the big horse’s hoof between my knees. Fulton would shave the hoof, pull out the old nail, try a standard shoe, heat and bend it to shape and press it onto the hoof. The smell of the shoe on the hoof. The new nails were put in sideways. They were docile beasts. It was great, I loved it. Fulton did all sorts of things including threshing machines. The fire was red going on white-hot. The hoof was as big as me. “Staun here and haud that,” Geordie Fulton would say. He wore a leather apron and he fascinated the crowd. His workshop was total darkness inside. The mechanical bellows turned the fire bright cherry red almost instantly.’