Historians tour historic Beckley hot-blast furnace

NORTH CANAAN — The towering Beckley Furnace, though imposing, is only a small relic of a once-thriving industry. The column, in its original stone-and-brick, used to be surrounded by others like it in Connecticut, New York and Massachusetts, all bent on transforming the northeast’s abundant and high-quality iron ore into usable ingots.Today, molten iron no longer pours from these blast furnaces. But Beckley Furnace still stands.A volunteer group known as Friends of Beckley Furnace was responsible for the restoration (and ongoing maintenance) of the historic structure. They offer tours throughout the summer months. A special tour was offered on Saturday, Aug. 3, for members of the Falls Village-Canaan Historical Society. Richard Paddock of Twin Lakes, a local historian and member of the Friends group, explained during the tour that piecing together the deteriorated furnace was especially challenging because the industry’s records were so difficult to find.He offered an example.“Each furnace is a little different,” he said. “Some furnaces were taller or wider. They placed their bricks at different angles.”The angle of the bricks had to hit a sweet spot of not being too steep and not being too gradual, to allow the iron to flow at just the right speed.“There was an art to it,” Paddock said. “And the recipes weren’t written down. The instructions were passed man to man.”A lack of records made restoration of the furnace more difficult, but not impossible.“This wheelbarrow has no marking of any kind,” Paddock said, as he stood in front of the iron artifact, which reached to his shoulder height, about 6 feet tall. The wheelbarrow’s function had to be deduced through some historical reasoning (and common sense). Its weight would have made it impossible to use for transporting ore. “But look at this,” said Paddock, as he tilted it with ease. The conclusion: “They made this for moving and dumping charcoal.”The iron industry defined Connecticut until the early 1900s. And, as historian and Friends volunteer Edward Kirby of Sharon explained, the industry brought thriving towns to this wooded region.“These furnaces were making iron before towns were towns,” he said. “People came to the area because of the iron industry.”As Kirby shared selections from a tall pile of historic photographs, he described not just the story of the furnace, but also the histories of the lives it came to define.The photos showed the men who worked the furnaces, often with their sons, who worked alongside them; the women who managed the homes; the animals that fed the families. “Native Americans, whites, and free blacks all worked in the industry,” Kirby said. “They didn’t make much; the average man made 95 cents per day.”Kirby found one picture particularly impressive. The image, of what appears to be two families of colliers (the men and women who made coal), was remarkably clear, unlike the others from its time (about 1880). The details in the photo are not apparent immediately but after first glance it’s clear that this photo captures a flurry of activity.“If you look closely, you’ll find a couple chickens, two cats and a dog,” Kirby said as he passed a copy of the image around to the members of the tour group. There was some friendly disagreement between Kirby and Paddock as to what mischievous activity had inspired a boy to smirk as he looked away from the camera.Kirby offered some additional detail on the people in the photos. “This man here,” he said, “is in his work clothes. He’s tired and grimy — and probably wants to get back to work.” Another man was in a suit. Kirby smiled. “This guy’s not working. He probably came to visit.”The hidden details also lurk in and on the furnace — in the markings on the fire bricks (indicating their manufacturers) and a mason’s mark (a sideways capital “A” on the corner of the exterior). “These people cared what things looked like,” said Kirby.At a picnic table covered with with the by-products of iron manufacture, Paddock lit a tiny camp stove. “Charcoal production was a huge business here,” he said. “Furnaces needed it to heat the ore. “It was filthy, the way they made it. When the industry was going strong, people would complain that the wash they hung to dry was gray before noon.” The stove’s flame licked the bottom of a small glass vial filled with tiny pieces of wood. Paddock was simulating charcoal production, albeit on a miniscule scale. Charcoal manufacturers built large domes — called pits, even though they weren’t concave — and filled them with logs which they set on fire and left to smolder. Over time, the logs would transform into the black chunks of carbon that powered the furnaces. As the wood slowly cooked, workers watched the smoke that rose from the pit.“You didn’t want blue smoke,” Paddock said. “That meant the wood was burning. Yellow or gray — that was what you wanted.”Paddock uncorked the glass vial. Sure enough, yellowish smoke rose from the vial, snaking through the air. “That’s charcoal,” he said.Charcoal manufacture was eventually moved to chemical plants, which were able to produce the fuel cheaply, with less environmental impact. With the move, charcoal actually produced a profit.The iron industry died out in the early 1900s. The furnaces fell into disrepair. “You can still find these furnaces, or at least their remains. But most of them are overgrown,” Kirby said.Such was the state of the Beckley Furnace, until the Friends of Beckley furnace began renovations in 1997. Since then, the furnace has been repaired with materials that date from the actual era when it was built. “There are no new bricks here,” Paddock said.Kirby and Paddock were clearly impressed with the ingenuity of the iron makers. As he gazed at century-old handiwork, Paddock smiled. “There’s something I like to point out from time to time: Our ancestors were just as smart as we were.”