To the point

An echo of a forgotten age, arrowsmith Will Sherman and his mongrel Bodkin spend their days in a Victorian forge surrounded by medieval weaponry. Ben Lerwill pays a visit

- Ben Lerwill

ON the outskirts of the New Forest, some five miles from the Dorset coast, stands a building stuck in time. This stocky, one-storey structure is made of rough stone, with tendrils of ivy creeping down from the eaves and an old wooden-plank door. At first, I walk straight past, presuming it empty, until I hear the tell-tale clang of a hammer from inside. I backtrack, approach, knock and wait. The door is opened by the man I’ve come to meet. Then, I step into another world.

Will Sherman, with his flat cap, beard and blacksmith’s physique, ushers me over the threshold of his forge. ‘Come in, come in,’ he says, as my eyes adjust to the dimness. The floor is bare, dusty earth and the beamed walls are hung with tools. Two anvils and a red-brick hearth dominate the space; a rack of scrap iron sits in one corner. On the work surface is a pile of sleek arrows, their tail feathers glossy, shafts smooth and heads glinting. A bright-eyed mongrel appears and jumps up in greeting. ‘Bodkin!’ remonstrates Mr Sherman. ‘Down!’

For more than five years, the 33-year-old has earned his living by handcrafting medieval arrows for heavy-bow archers (of which, as the internet attests, there are plenty) and collectors from as far afield as Germany, the US and New Zealand, as well as here in the UK. But first things first: these arrows are the real deal. If you’re imagining a fauxMiddle Age aesthetic and a corner-cutting approach to ye olde traditions, think again. Mr Sherman’s work is made to order and based on real-life period weaponry, using methods and materials as close as humanly possible to those used centuries ago.