Shem Caulfield could be termed Ireland’s national gate keeper.
The Kilkenny artist is the undisputed authority on the country’s traditional wrought iron field gates, an accolade merited by 20 years of research into the subject.
“I’ve been working on gates and photographing them around the country for 20 years or so,” the Thomastown native says.
“I’m an artist by trade and being out in the landscape I ended up doing a few drawings and paintings of these old metal field gates,” he explains.
“I obviously noticed how beautiful they were, and how the styles varied from area to area, so I began to research them,” Caulfield adds.
His research confirmed that Ireland was an outlier when it came to the adoption of these very practical but somewhat ornate metal field gates.
Caulfield might not have realised it at the time, but he was hooked on old farm gates. That the gates were made from wrought iron, which is no longer in production, just added to their addictive attraction.
Indeed, the use of metal rather than timber is the first standout feature of traditional Irish farm gates.
“The wrought iron gate is a particularly Irish thing. In the UK, they mainly used timber. Only in bits of Lancashire, Yorkshire and Cornwall did they use metal like we used here,” Caulfield points out.
Moisture levels
“It may have to do with the fact that timber doesn’t last great outside in this country, because the moisture levels are very, very high.
“Or it might have been that farmers had access to Irish wrought iron when these gates were first put up,” he says.
That the gates were constructed at all is telling, Caulfield contends.
Their significance must also be viewed in the context of the Land League, Land War and land acts of the late 19th century.
Tenant farmers
These acts finally gave Irish tenant farmers possession of the land their families had farmed for decades in some instances.
“The gates represent a significant investment by our forefathers who had finally got possession of the land,” Caulfield says.
“They would have cost a lot of money in the day; to have had the gates made and the two big roundy piers constructed to hang them off,” he maintains.
“So, these field gates have to be viewed as a statement piece by the new land owners. They are powerful symbols of the changed Ireland that was emerging,” Caulfield insists.
“In fact, I have likened them in the past to the totem poles of this country. They are the farmers saying through the gates: ‘we are here, and we’re staying here’.”
Another feature of the gates is the pronounced local styles that developed over the years.
“While all the gates followed a basic design, there were standout local features and styles,” Caulfield explains.
This was a function of the available supplies of wrought iron and the design choices of the local blacksmiths who made the gates.
“You see different latch solutions in different areas, and different ornamentations on the gates,” he says.
“If you go up to Castlecomer [Co Kilkenny] for example, you’ll see a lot of cart-wheel banding on the gates,” Caulfield points out.
There were a lot of old cart-wheel bands in this area because people were involved in hauling coal from the local mines.
These bands were re-used by blacksmiths from Castlecomer and the nearby village of Clogh, such as Jack Lyng, and soon became a distinguishing feature of field gates in this part of north Kilkenny, he adds.
Sophisticated
“The Monaghan gate has a very sophisticated latching system. Instead of sliding over and back, there is a protrusion like a little handle off the latch that you can grab,” Caulfield says.
Some of the differences were down to the stylistic conventions employed by particular blacksmiths.
“Blacksmiths are an almost forgotten grouping in rural Ireland, and yet they were crucial to the rural economy, as well as being great artisans that produced excellent works like these gates,” he points out.
“For example, there was the Lee family from around Inistioge [in south Kilkenny]. They were a great family of blacksmiths. I could tell one of their gates anywhere,” he adds.
Design
Caulfield maintains that it was “fantastic craftmanship to design and make these gates”.
However, he contends that the gates’ real value goes well beyond craftmanship.
“These gates are constructed from a material that is no longer made; they are a link to our mining and smelting past. They are an illustration of the blacksmiths’ contribution to rural Ireland and its built heritage.
“They are a symbol of the centuries-old struggle for the land. We need to preserve and protect them.”
Traditional field gates tied to iron industry
The story of Ireland’s traditional field gates is indelibly linked to the country’s long-lost smelting industry.
A significant proportion of the country’s traditional field gates were made of wrought iron, which was a “very particular metal”, Shem Caulfield says.
Unlike cast iron which is melted and poured into moulds, wrought iron is heated and then worked with tools. This is one of the reasons it is more resistant to rust, and therefore more suitable to Ireland’s damp conditions.
Wrought iron was actually produced in Ireland for over three centuries up to the early 1870s, when the largest of the old smelters closed at Creevelea, Co Leitrim.
The industry actually reached its peak during the Elizabethan period, Caulfield points out.
“Ireland exported 2,600t of wrought iron bar in the 1590s, as well as looking after local needs,” he says.
“The main appeal Ireland held for the Elizabethans was its great oak forests. These were cut down to produce charcoal, which fuelled the smelters,” Caulfield explains. “English forests by this time had been largely depleted by iron production and ship building,” he says.
“Sir Walter Raleigh was heavily involved in smelting here; using Irish forests to produce charcoal,” he added.
Leitrim
While iron smelting disappeared in most areas once the forests were cleared, the industry survived in Leitrim due to the availability of local coal.
Ireland imported wrought iron from Britain once local production ceased. However, the industry eventually closed there as well, as demand faltered.
“Wrought iron is not made anymore. The last piece made commercially was in 1974 in the UK,” Caulfield says.
“That’s one of the reasons why these gates are worth preserving; they’re made from a material that is no longer produced,” he adds.
‘Not just old gates that are in the way’
A combination of education and innovation is needed to save and preserve wrought iron gates and keep them in use in the countryside.
This is the view of Kilkenny artist Shem Caulfield, who has spent a lifetime researching and studying Ireland’s traditional field gates.
Caulfield concedes that narrow wrought iron gates that marked farm and field entrances for decades are not compatible with modern farm machinery.
But that’s not a reason to land the old gates in the hedge, or up against a farmyard wall, and leave them there to decay and deteriorate, he argues.
“I know that modern machinery won’t fit through an 8ft or 10ft entrance. And it’s easy to drive a JCB through these old gates and flatten them because of this; but there are other options,” the Kilkenny artist says.
“You can hang another gate opposite the wrought iron gate and drop a stile down the middle that can be removed. Now you have a 16ft or 20ft opening,” Caulfield explains.
“You can make the new gate as wide or as narrow as you want. But you’ve kept the original gate in its integrity and that’s the important thing,” he adds.
Caulfield says this approach is far better than seeking to extend existing gates by cutting them and welding on mild-steel additions.
“I’ve seen a lot of those disasters,” he explains.
Caulfield is adamant that wrought-iron gates should be retained in situ and used as field gates wherever possible.
“These gates if they are not hanging, they’re lethal. They’re so heavy. To make any good out of them they have to be hanging. Otherwise, farmers get fed up with them, and out they go,” he says.
Bringing farmers around to appreciating the value and virtue of the dwindling number of wrought iron gates in the countryside is a real passion for Caulfield.
“More and more, I’m about creating greater awareness among farmers of the rich history and heritage these gates represent,” he explains.
Farmers love their land
“I know that farmers love their land, and love their history. The challenge now is to educate and inform farmers about the significance of these gates,” Caulfield maintains.
“Wrought iron gates are part of rural Ireland’s history. They’re not just old gates that are in the way.”
Putting 20 years of research into a book
Shem Caulfield is in the process of completing a book on Ireland’s traditional wrought iron field gates.
“I’ve been putting a book together over the last two years,” he says.
The book will effectively be distilling 20 years of research into 200 or so pages of photographs and text.
“It’ll be largely a photographic book, and explain the various gate designs and styles around the country,” Caulfield explains.
“The book will also give a bit of the history of the Irish smelting industry and the central role blacksmiths had in the rural economy up to the 1950s,” he says.
“There is also a bit on the dos and the don’ts when it comes to the repair of wrought iron gates.”
Caulfield is currently looking for a publisher for the book.