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I cross our farm to visit Aiden Fogarty, whose yard at Camus is near our back gate.
Two friendly dogs, a small terrier and a golden retriever bounce up to greet me. They are in charge of the yard. A horse exercising in the circular horse walker passes.

Then the rumble of a wheelbarrow heralds Aiden, who appears round the corner having been mucking out a stable.
We enter his crammed workshop space and encounter: straps, buckles, bits, saddles, neat’s foot oil, spools of waxed linen thread, worktables covered and the evocative smell of leather and horses.

A tall man who enjoys many sports, Aiden is from a sporting family.
“Always a racquet on the floor to trip over,” he says, laughing.
These sports include golf, tennis, badminton and kayaking down the river Suir (which practically passes through his yard), but not horses.
“The only one involved in horses was a grand uncle in the army in the Curragh who was killed off a horse, which put the family off horses,” he adds.

Aiden is a hands-on horse person.
“You need to have a horsey background to know what you are working at as a saddler,” he says.

FIRST LOVE
“You need to have either owned or worked with horses.” Aiden does both.
His first love was, and is, horses. This didn’t quite fit with the family business of running a garage.
Two brothers went into this, as Aiden hated it. Meantime he was enjoying hunting with the Tipperary Foxhounds.

He then says, “My Dad bought an early Massey Ferguson tractor in the 1960s and everyone went to see it. This was the beginning of the end for working horses.”

In the early 1980s, it was hard to find work, so Aiden, aged 17, took the boat to England in search of a riding job. Using a series of vague contacts, he went first to Jimmy Fitzgerald’s (who was from Horse and Jockey, a village near Cashel), and then to Mike Lambert’s yard in Malton, Yorkshire where he became a ‘Conditional (Trainee) National Hunt Jockey’.

He did this for three years. Being 5 ft 10 in tall, weight was a problem.
“I lived in the sauna, but it was impossible to keep the weight target of 9 stone 2 lbs, so the hope of becoming a jockey was extinguished and I headed home to Cashel.”
His time in England was not a waste. In Malton he had become friendly with a saddler and harness maker called Kevin Ryan. In the evenings he learnt the art of hand stitching leather and his interest in saddlery was born.

SPORTS SHOP
Back in Cashel he opened a sports shop in Friar Street in 1985. As time went on this became ‘The Sport of Kings’, concentrating on horse equipment and saddlery. In 2018, after 30 years he moved his saddlery workshop to his training yard in Camas.

When Aiden set up, Cashel boasted another long-established saddler, Liam Ryan, who Aiden knew well. He mended working horses’ harnesses, replaced reins and even repaired leather schoolbags. His workshop had three stone steps up to it and there was always a group of gossiping men there.

“I asked him whether it would be alright to set up my saddlery workshop if I did not take any of his customers. He agreed, so I went out to all the local stud farms looking for customers. I went to the Magniers at Coolmore, Miss Edwards at Castle Park, the Harris family at Victor and Athassel Studs, the Myerscoughs at Ballysheehan and Vincent O’Brien at Ballydoyle.
“Coolmore, now the internationally known racing stud, commissioned me to make American head collars. That was a steady start. Everything was done by hand. These headcollars had to be made of American leather. The cow hides from USA were enormous, 8ft by 4ft from long horned cattle. It is extra thick and strong but now too expensive to import.”
Aiden explains to me the difference between harness making and saddlery. The working horse harness consists of collars and bridging, which is a chest strap for pulling.

MASTERS
Saddlery is really ‘pleasure riding’ and is made up of bridle, girths, saddle, and headcollars.
Twenty-five years ago, in order to learn new skills, Aiden did the English Master Saddlers Qualification. It took six years by stages and finished with an intensive week under Mark Romaine in Salisbury.
“We had to make four saddles from scratch. Incidentally, this training is subsidised in England to keep the skills going. You can’t have an apprentice without a Master’s Qualification. By the way, I loved the magnificent Salisbury Cathedral,” he says.
Before the 1960s, most farms had one or two working horses. These were Irish Draught Horses who were strong. Often, they worked all week on the land, were saddled up to go hunting on Saturday, and hitched up to a trap or cart to go to mass on Sundays.

Aiden and I then divert onto discussing how, during the First World War, thousands of these steady strong horses were bought in Ireland by the British Army and sent to France. Snaffles, later famous as a painter of horses, began as an army officer who purchased horses. “I love his work,” says Aiden. “Expensive now,” he said.

As Aiden and I sit companionably on stools in the workshop drinking tea and eating clubmilks, two amazing stitching machines catch my eye.
“I would not be here if it wasn’t for those two stitching machines. The older is from 1908 made by the British United Shoe Machinery Co. no. 7466. It does a ‘walking stitch’.
“The second machine was made in 1913 and I have the original instruction book,” said Aiden.

One machine Aiden bought in Athenry, county Galway. A Mrs Rooney had inherited it from her uncle’s best friend, a saddler, and it had lain in a shed, unused for 20 years. Aiden’s interest suddenly upped the price from €300 to €1000.
The second machine was bought at auction. An industrial (hand and foot operated) machine could be described as a work of art.

Their polished black wheels, tension arms, and precision stitching needles have a harmony of line and movement. The maker’s name is picked out in ornate gilt lettering and is surrounded by a Greek Key border.
Stitching is a major part of the saddler’s skill: hand stitching, 4 stitches to an inch, 8 stitches to an inch, and 16 stitches to an inch (for precision work). In order to be accurate a ‘pricking iron’ is hammered onto the leather strap to mark it out. N.B. Apprentices always had to learn to hand stitch, often with two needles threaded with waxed linen thread.

In order to source materials, Aiden attends the Annual British Equestrian Trade Association in Birmingham Exhibition Centre (of which you have to be a member).
“Sadly, there is only one tannery left in England which is Clayton’s in Chesterfield. Sedgwick’s of Knutsford supply leather. I buy a whole cow hide of leather and cut it up myself with a tool called a Plough Gauge,” said Aiden.

The strongest leather is on each side of the backbone, whereas towards the belly it is thinner and more flexible.
“Today most saddles and bridles are made of synthetic leather of which Australian Zilco is very good. However, dressage and top riders always use real leather. Because natural oiled leather kept the sweat at bay. When buying a saddle make sure it fits the horse,” said Aiden.
Is there a living to be made as a saddler? I ask.
“Yes, if you love the trade, you will make a decent living but will never be a millionaire. But it does take a long time to become established. Once, talking to another saddler in England, I was so surprised that he could charge £10 for a grackle (a small part of a sheepskin noseband). This taught me to value skill and knowledge and reflect it in the price,” he said.

Aiden will be 60 this year.
NEW APPRENTICE
“I would love to get a new apprentice now to train in to take over the business when I retire at 65. I can work, work, work here all day at Camas yard, better than when I was in the shop in Cashel where there was a constant flow of customer interruptions. Should have come here years ago. There is a good business here and when I am gone it will be gone, too, unless

I get a new apprentice. Yes, I can manage the work but I would love to hand it over. I am trying locally to find an apprentice,” said Aiden.
In 2014, Cashel Arts Festival commissioned Gerardine Wisdom (artist) to create a life-sized rush work horse.
At first this stood in Supervalu window for a week. Then one day Aiden and I collected him, and escorted him up the Main Street to his shop on Friar Street, accompanied by comments:

“I see a non-runner!”
“Wouldn’t back him!”
“You found Shergar then!”
We tethered the horse outside Sport of Kings and threw a rug over him, which Aiden had embroidered with:
“Cashel Arts Festival – A sure winner!”

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