David Maydole and his Hammers

“When I make a thing, I make it as well as I can, no matter who it’s for.” — David Maydole

“I can tell you, boys, from actual inquiry,” writes James Parton in his editorial, The youth’s companion in the 19th century. “That a great number of the most important and famous business men of the United States struck down roots where they were first planted, and where no one supposed there was room or chance for any large thing to grow.”

Parton relates how, when he met Maydole, he was an old man then; and a curious thing about him was that, although he was too deaf to hear one word of a public address, even of the loudest speaker, he not only attended church every Sunday, but was rarely absent when a lecture was delivered.

Upon being introduced to this old gentleman in his office, and learning that his business was to make hammers, he was at a loss for a subject of conversation, as it never occurred to him that there was anything to be said about hammers.

“I have generally possessed a hammer,” he says, “and frequently inflicted damage on my fingers therewith, but I had supposed that a hammer was simply a hammer, and that hammers were very much alike. At last I said;”

“I hear you make hammers for mankind, Mr. Maydole?”

“Yes,” he said, “I have made hammers here for twenty-eight years.”

“Well, then,” said Parton, shouting in his best ear;

“By this time you ought to be able to make a pretty good hammer.”

“No, I can’t,” was his reply.

“I can’t make a pretty good hammer. I make the best hammer that’s made.”

That was strong language, Parton thought. At first, he meant it as a joke but soon discovered it was no joke at all. He had made hammers the study of his life, and after many years of thoughtful and laborious experiment, he had produced a product of which — with all his knowledge and experience — he could not improve upon.

Parton was astonished to discover how many points there are about an instrument which he had always supposed a very simple thing and was surprised to learn in how many ways a hammer could be bad.

40 years prior, in a small village in the State of New York when there were no railroad yet. He was the village blacksmith, his establishment consisting of himself and a boy to blow the fire. He was troubled with his hammers. Sometimes the heads would fly off. If the metal was too soft, the hammer would spread out and wear away; if it was too hard, it would split.

At that time blacksmiths made their own hammers and he knew very little about mixing ores in order to produce the toughest iron. But he was particularly troubled with the hammer getting off the handle, a mishap which could be dangerous as well as inconvenient.

At this point the old gentleman showed a number of old hammers that were in use before he began to improve them; and it was plain that many had tried to overcome this difficulty.

One hammer had an iron rod running down through the handle with a nut screwed on at the end. Another was made entirely of iron, the head and handle being all of one piece. There were various others, some of which were exceedingly clumsy and awkward.

At last, he hit upon one which led to his being able to put a hammer upon a handle in such a way that it would stay there. He made what is called an adze-handled hammer, making it much firmer and having a stronger hold of the head and can easily be made extremely tight. With this improvement, if the wood of the handle is well seasoned and the head well wedged, there is no danger of the head flying off. He made some other changes, all of them merely for his own convenience, without a thought of going into the manufacture of hammers.

The neighborhood in which he lived would have scarcely required half a dozen new hammers per annum. But one day there came to the village six carpenters to work upon a new church, and one of these men, having left his hammer at home, came to Maydole’s blacksmith’s shop to get one made.

“Make me as good a hammer as you know how.” Said the builder to the blacksmith.

“As good a one as I know how? But perhaps you don’t want to pay for as good a one as I know how to make.”

“Yes, I do,” replied the man; “I want a good hammer.”

The blacksmith made him one of his best. It was probably the best hammer that had ever been made in the world, since it contained two or three important improvements never before combined in the instrument.

The carpenter was delighted with it, and showed it, with a good deal of pride, to his five companions; every man of whom came the next day to the shop and wanted one just like it. They did not understand all the blacksmith’s notions about tempering and mixing the metals, but they saw at a glance that the head and the handle were so blended that they could not be parted.

Now, to a carpenter building a wooden house in those days, the mere removal of that one defect was an improvement beyond price; the builder could hammer away with confidence and without fear that the head would fly off into the field, unless stopped by a comrade’s head.

When all the six carpenters had been supplied with these improved hammers, the contractor came and ordered two more. He seemed to think, and, in fact, said as much, that the blacksmith ought to make his hammers a little better than those he had made for the men.

“I can’t make any better ones,” said honest David.

“When I make a thing, I make it as well as I can, no matter who it’s for.”

The store-keeper of the village, seeing what excellent hammers these were, gave the blacksmith a magnificent order for two hundred, which, in due time, were placed upon his counter for sale.

It so happened that another New York dealer in tools happened to be in the village getting orders for tools that season. As soon as he laid eyes on those hammers, he saw their superior quality and bought them all.

He left a standing order for as many hammers of that kind as David could make. That was the beginning. The young blacksmith hired a man or two, then more men, and made more hammers, and kept on making hammers during the whole of his active life, employing hundreds of men.

Read more in my new book! The Trials And Triumphs of Hyperachievers