HORSES BACK

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIII, Issue 44, 21 February 1942, Page 5

HORSES BACK

' AND OLD TRADES HARNESS IN DEMAND r l here was a clay when old Dobbin supreme. He pulled the plough delivered the groceries, took dad to the markets, and pulled the family to ehureh. „;s;hr ,^ crc tho days when the sa '( r was among the elite nf tradesmen and the blacksmith shop r inked with the barber shop as the forum of discussion. r I hose days are coming to a degree at any rate. Ask Charlie Hannigan, or Tom I.irkes and Bill Culpitt in the li'tle shop in Wyndham Street. But vou von t need their words—they 'are too busy now to spare many. And they are saddlers ... Or pop into one of the few reinainin" :l nm .t vs - j? nd watch "the burning sparks that fly out the open door" Yu srT i_ lth ' Punctuating his remarks with rhythmic blows on hi* anvil, will also tell you that the horse is coming back. C'est la guerre! Horses Were Coming Back, Anyway . Petrol restrictions have given it impetus, but saddlers like Charlie tiannigan—and there are few like him left—will not have it that the revival of the horse is entirely due to the laying-up of the motor car. Charlie will point to the growing number of riding schools, and the increasing membership of both these and the hunt club. Young people now are getting ponies instead of motor cycles, he declares, and finding an added zest in life because of their love and devoted care for an animal which repays in full with faithful service. But this article is not so much dealing with the comeback of the horse to farm and citv street—with the attendant difficulties that may arise in hard concrete roads that are gruelling in their demands on a horse, the lack of water-troughs and hitching posts—as with the trades that are coming back in consequence. There is atmosphere about both the smithy and the saddler's shop— an atmosphere of peaceful industry, warm, creative and aiive. The hine'll -of leather is heavy in each of them, invading the senses, titivating the imagination until one sees in memory the coaches arrive, horseshoes ringing and throwing sparks as they strike on frosty metal leads, or the peaceful expanse of a pior.eer farm with the draughts pulling honestly, leathers creaking, chains tinkling, and their pride in the straight furrow seemingly as great as that of the ploughman. History in the Walls History is grained into the walls -—and there is no imagination in that—not so far as Charlie's shop is concerned, anyhow. Away back in the founding days of the city that shop housed a little drapery store, a store that grew. To-day that store is one of the biggest retail establishments in the city. The lit'.le saddlery business opened up there 45 years ago, and Charlie, who was learning his trade in a Queen Street saddler's In the days when horse trams were ■pf.lling wearily up the Queen Street rise, took it over 22 years ago.

Charlie does not expect that his business will grow to the sublime heights that the traditions of that old building would demand. He would be most disappointed if it did, for Charlie would hate to grow away from the feel of leather and saddlery tools in his own hands. It is definitely growing, however, and the only thing that is holding back a bigger expansion is lack of competent tradesmen.

Bill Culpitt, whose father and grandfather before him were saddlers, and Tom Parkes, who In the late 'sixties has spent the greater part of his life at the trade, and Charlie himself are all veterans, and all of them regret that there are so few young fellows to follow their footsteps. And they can't understand why. While he busied himself with round knife, gauge knife, webb strainer, power sewing machine and other intriguing Instruments of his craft, Charlie talked about it, enthusiasm In his voice. It was one of the few real handicraft lefts; one of the cleanest, most creative and most interesting of trades, he said. And as for Its future? Well, he pointed to his Jittered business desk, to the basket overflowing with letters—averaging 14 a day—asking for catalogues and replying with orders for saddles and varying harness. Orders Pile Up Fifteen stock saddles are in the making to-day, and other orders are piling up. Inquiries are coming in from Australia and America and places further still. Not all the trade is to do with horses; there Is fine leather work of all sorts, right through to ladies' handbags — but Charlie's heart is in horses. That is not surprising, for Charlie is one of the finest gentlemen riders there is about here, a steward of the Pakuranga Hunt Club and a keen racing man.

He doesn't put his shirt on the horse of his fancy, but it's an even bet that one of his "skins" has been across the back of some or them— lor Charlie makes saddles varying in weight from one pound to 221bs, and the tiny ones are for the thoroughbred racers, just as the 221b saddles are for the powerful stock ponies. Charlie has had some funny jobs to do in his day, and he chuckles as he recalls that he once made a set of goat harness! Wrist straps, human safety harness of all kinds, surgical limbs and other leather equipment—it's all the same to him. Made Parachute Harness But the job that gave him his biggest headache was a set of parachute harness he made for the late George Sellars. George gave him the job with the injunction: "Make it strong!" And Charlie made it strong. "I've never sweated over anything like it before," he said. "I was terrified. I got the strongest leather I could find and I double sewed it with the strongest thread. Even then I held my breath when he took off in it the first time!"

Although much of his work is now coming in from strangers, a good deal of that which he does for local orders has friendship sewn into it as well as good leather. While he was chatting yesterday Mr. Phil Smith, of the Pakuranga Hunt, dropped in to say good-Dye. He was going into the army, and constantly in that brief hour Charlie was interrupted by friends who dropped in to pass the time of day, to talk about norses, and to watch the warm-smelling leather as it was moulded by the hands of Bill, Tom and Charlie—moulded into saddles and harness for the backs of horses, to whom they owe their craftsmanship. their livelihood and their pride.