Philip polishes the Victoria carriage that he uses for weddings and other occasions.
Ben Bentley meets a carriage builder and wheelwright who is content to continue ploughing his own furrow
Down a dusty lane to a higgledy-piggledy set of cobwebbed outbuildings, and a part of Shropshire that has barely changed for more than a century.
If it wasn’t for the dusty plastic radio talking away in the corner, Philip Holder, one of the few remaining wheelwrights in the country, could be plying his trade in Victorian England.
Self-taught, Philip has been crafting carriages for 50 years, 40 of them at the same premises which form the workshop of his business, The Wellington Carriage Company, on the edge of the countryside near Telford.
Inanimate pieces of wood lie around in what appears to be ordered chaos but here, chunks of elm will be crafted into wheel hubs and lengths of ash fashioned into carriage frames and wheel rims.
And to think that, thanks to Philip’s ancient craft, these old bits of wood will come back to life in such spectacular forms as the gleaming carriages that stand in another of Philip’s workships, where a collection is his pride and joy.
“I got involved when I was about 14 and I was still at school. I acquired an old farm dray that my father bought us for a few bob from a farm sale.
“I spent some time restoring it and then I got into restoring carriages that my father bought, and it went on from there.
Self-taught
“I’m pretty much self-taught but I was brought up amid wooden stuff. My father had a yard and there was always wood and tools, and I used to make model boats and bits and pieces. It grew from there.”
Later his passion turned into his profession.
“I had this idea that I was going to do horse-drawn carriage weddings for a living, which I do. I bought a lot of carriages in the 1980s which I restored.
“I started restoring the carriages we bought — pulling them apart and finding out how they went back together — and we found there was a demand from other people who wanted this type of work done. The business grew from there.”
Today he also has commissions to completely restore or build carriages from scratch.
Philip expects interest in traditional craft such as his to be maintained.
If he was living in the early 1900s, would he be more in demand?
“Probably,” says Philip, “but they were just starting to bring in motor vehicles, so by about 1920 carriage builders and wheelwrights began to disappear. Some of them became motor-car body builders, others just went.”
Three years ago Philip was made Yeoman of the Worshipful Company of Wheelwrights. The award is proudly displayed on the wall of his office. Last year he was awarded the Countryside Alliance Traditional Business of the Year, but the man who is happiest when he’s in his dusty overalls is typically modest about his achievements.
“It’s nice to be recognised really. I had to go to the House of Lords to get this, but there were lots of other people who won awards for things like Best Village Shop.
“The craft has not changed a great deal,” he continues between jobs. “It’s interesting that I suppose 100 years or so ago they got it to such an art that they had machinery that would manufacture parts like a wheel spoke, very few of which are left, so we are having to resort to do them by hand or use more modern equipment.”
Repetitive
But there’s a lot of hard work in making a wheel. “Some of it is quite hard and sometimes it’s a bit repetitive — if you’ve got a wheel with 52 spokes, you’ve got to make 52 wooden spokes.
“But you do get a lot of satisfaction, when someone brings in a dilapidated carriage for restoration and you see it go out when you’ve done it.
“We did a horse-drawn hearse a few years ago and it was quite a few months of work. When we rolled that out on the yard it was very satisfying. I suppose it’s a passion but it’s a way of life for me.”
But what of the future of the craft? Philip has taken on apprentices in the past, one of whom now runs the fairground at Blists Hill Victorian Town in Ironbridge.
Says Philip: “I do see him from time to time and he says he might get back to making some wheels. I don’t think the art for working wheelwrights will die out. There is a course for apprentice wheelwrights and someone asked me if I would run the course at one stage.
“I think there will always be a demand. There are a lot of modern vehicles with special high-tech carriages made of steel, but I don’t get involved in that.
“There is still a lot of interest in the traditional side of it; I think there always will be.”
Philip is now ‘of retirement age’ but doesn’t think it’s a good idea to give up. His clients certainly don’t think so either.
Problem
“I’m looking to perhaps do a bit less,” he continues. “I get some big wheels that are difficult to handle and bigger carriages can be a bit of a problem.”
There are no current plans, however, to take anyone on, meaning the business could eventually die with Philip.
“If you employ people you’ve got all this stuff,” he says pointing to a health-and-safety poster on the wall.
“If I took on an apprentice I would have to chuck all this stuff out of the workshop and get all new machines that comply with the latest health-and-safety regulations. And it would ruin the atmosphere of the place.”
Philip Holder at the workshops from which he runs his Wellington Carriage Company.


Share this article:
What are these?