The Son-in-Law’s brother manages operations at G. Krug & Son in Baltimore, and so we were able to get a tour. I forgot my camera, so these photos were made with my cellphone and thus are not all they should be. But it was such an interesting place that I wanted to tell about it.

Above is a model of a gate, made completely from hand-wrought iron. The gate is automatic: the carriage is steered so that a wheel rolls over the upright bar of the two-way control. (There’s a control mechanism is on each side of the gate.) When the control bar is thus forced down, it shifts the gate’s hinge posts to their “other” position, and the gates swing open (if they were shut) or swing closed (if they were open) simply due to gravity. Alas, the control bar requires more travel than is possible with the small wheels of modern cars—it was designed with carriages in mind—so the gate is not now made.

The company was founded in 1810 and still operates in one of the original buildings at the original site (another building attached is of later construction). Although the company is in the middle of downtown Baltimore, it was at the edge of town when it began.

The founder strategically chose his location next to Lexington Market. Still large and active, the Market started in 1782, five years before the US Constitution. The forge, next to the market, faced a large, open pasture, through which came the farmers bringing their produce and livestock to the market. The forge thus was able to secure a steady business making and fixing farm implements, equipment, and the like.

In the years since, the company has expanded its work. It’s always been a forge, never a foundry (which casts metal): it heats, beats, welds, and shapes metal into a vast range of useful and/or artistic forms. For example, here are some balusters made at Krug:

The machines for doing this sort of work range from the simple—a large plate of hard metal set into the floor, for upending bars of hot metal (that is, banging the red-hot end of the rod on the plate, thereby forming a bulge at the end)—to the complex. Here’s one of the simple machines:

They have several of these scattered about. They’re used until they wear out—this one is about 150 years old. They are not so simple as they look. The large flat plate on top is hardened steel, and the small flat piece between the top plate and the horn is even harder. The hardy hole and the pritchet hole allow tools to be inserted and held by the anvil. In general, red-hot metal is pounded and shaped on the anvil using a hammer —and the shapes created can be complex and delicate. Take a look at this delicate leaf whose stem wraps around the rod to form the handle of this poker:

This design is quite simple—and quite beautiful—but here are examples of more complex designs, both on paper and in metal. (It’s not clear whether the design in the last photo was ever made.)

We saw many examples of beautiful and elaborate grillwork, once used for teller’s cages in banks and the like. They were made when the material was dear as compared to the labor—as in the early days of computing, when hardware was expensive and programming was cheap. Now the reverse is true in both cases, so large and elaborate grills are now seldom made—a pity, given the beauty of those we saw.

Krug also has collections of antique parts and pieces that are used to repair or replace things damaged. For example, box locks:

The photo shows two assembled box locks, but the inventory includes parts and keys so that new box locks can be made or parts replaced in old box locks. In addition, Krug has an unmatched collection of finials for wrought-iron fences—if some 19th century fence is damaged, the owner can find replacement parts at Krug & Son.

The company is based on a large and still active store of knowledge and craft skills, and their work continues. Great stuff.