Shoemakers, Blacksmiths, and Hedge Teachers: Hidden Professions of 19th-Century Creggan

In the great sweep of Irish history, the focus often falls on major events — rebellion, famine, emigration, and political upheaval. But in the quieter corners of the past, daily life was sustained by a host of modest professions that rarely make it into textbooks or public commemorations. In the 19th-century townlands of the Creggan Parish and the Barony of the Upper Fews, local economies and communities depended on the skill and resilience of people whose work was both humble and essential.

Shoemakers crafted sturdy boots by lamplight, blacksmiths kept the wheels and tools of rural life turning, and hedge schoolmasters taught generations to read and write under trees or in barns — all often without formal recognition. These were trades rooted in necessity, handed down through families, and closely tied to the rhythms of farming life and parish society. Their legacy, while less visible than stone ruins or parish registers, remains etched in memory, folklore, and sometimes even in the tools left behind in sheds and attics.

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In this post, we explore a few of these hidden professions, drawing on what remains in the oral record, local accounts, and the quiet presence they still hold in the heritage of Creggan.


The Shoemaker in Every Townland

Known locally as the cobbler, the shoemaker was a familiar figure in almost every rural community. Often working from a corner of their home or a small outhouse, these craftsmen fashioned boots, clogs, and shoes by hand, repairing as much as they made. Shoes were not disposable items in the 19th century — they were mended, patched, and handed down. A good pair of boots was an investment, especially in a region where roads were rough and winters hard.

Shoemakers sourced leather from local tanners or travelling merchants. Children would sometimes be sent to fetch a new supply of hobnails or to deliver repaired boots to neighbours. Their tools — awls, lasts, waxed thread — were treasured possessions, and a well-respected cobbler might have customers from several neighbouring townlands.

In many families, the trade was passed down from father to son. Some were itinerant, travelling from place to place offering their services. Today, stories of “the man who came with his satchel of tools and made shoes by the hearth” are still recalled by older generations.


The Village Blacksmith

The blacksmith, or smithy, was one of the most vital figures in any 19th-century rural community. Working with iron, fire, and muscle, the blacksmith produced and repaired the tools that underpinned agricultural life: ploughs, horseshoes, gates, hinges, spades, and carts.

The smithy was usually a central building — often dark, smoky, and echoing with the ring of the hammer on the anvil. Local farmers depended on the blacksmith for everything from shoeing horses to fixing broken blades. Many smiths developed a near-scientific understanding of metal and fire, even if they had no formal education.

Blacksmiths were also known for their physical strength and occasionally for their temper — not unusual given the intense heat and hard labour of their work. In some places, the blacksmith’s forge was also a centre of storytelling, where men gathered to exchange news while waiting for their tools to be mended.

In Creggan and the surrounding area, many smiths were remembered by name well into the 20th century, with some of their forges still standing as stone shells or repurposed sheds.


The Hedge Teacher and the Classroom Without Walls

Perhaps the most poignant of these professions is that of the hedge schoolmaster — an educator who operated outside the formal system, often at great personal risk. During the 18th and early 19th centuries, Catholic education was suppressed under the Penal Laws. In response, informal schools sprang up, often held in barns, fields, kitchens, or behind hedgerows — giving rise to the term hedge school.

These teachers were often poorly paid and moved from place to place, lodging with families in return for food and a bed. Lessons included reading, writing, arithmetic, Latin, and sometimes even Greek or Irish. While textbooks were scarce, slates, chalk, and catechisms were widely used.

Hedge schoolmasters were typically held in high regard, especially if they had a good grasp of storytelling or poetry. In the Creggan area, several such teachers are remembered in local lore, although few records of their names survive. What remains is the sense of reverence for education, even under hardship, and a tradition of learning that continues in the parish schools of today.


Why These Trades Matter

The work of shoemakers, blacksmiths, and hedge teachers was not glamorous, but it was indispensable. These professions supported both physical survival and cultural continuity. They ensured that people were shod, tools were mended, and children were taught to read in a time when none of those things could be taken for granted.

They also speak to a self-sufficient, close-knit community, where people relied on one another’s skills and knowledge to get through the year. In a time of political uncertainty, poverty, and emigration, these trades offered dignity, connection, and a form of local stability.


Remembering the Unrecorded

Few of these tradespeople appear in official documents. Their names may not be carved into monuments or listed in parish registers. Yet their impact was profound — shaping the daily life of a region now celebrated for its heritage.

We encourage readers to share any memories, photos, or family stories connected with these professions. Do you remember a grandfather’s shoemaking tools? An old blacksmith’s forge near your home? A story of a travelling teacher told at your kitchen table?

These are the threads of local history we hope to preserve — humble, enduring, and quietly remarkable.

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