D J Hornsby (Denis & Bill)
Denis Hornsby photo © The Burton Latimer Heritage Society
Denis Hornsby was based in Burton Latimer, near Kettering. He was active from the early 80s through until his death in 1993.
The 'trademark' of the Hornsby bobbin is the oval, almost urn like head along with the snub point tail that usually has two or three concentric cirles inscribed around the diameter, giving a feeling of an upside down bee hive.
Denis pioneered the famous (or infamous) plastic bobbin as a way to create a bobbin that was light in weight and affordable. Thousands of these are in circulation and are a great started bobbin for newbies. Care should be taken with the white (now aged to cream) plastic bobbins which are often offered for sale as bone or ivory by less understanding sellers.
His Son Bill continues to turn bobbins that are in his own style but pay homage to the Hornsby name.
Bill wrote a wonderful history of his family in Burton Latimer which you can read here and Denis is remembered on the Burton Latimer Heritage Society here.
If you would like to read more about Denis' life then this is the perfect article, also from the Burton Latimer Heritage Society which also includes the obituary from the Lace Guild Magazine in 1993.
The 'trademark' of the Hornsby bobbin is the oval, almost urn like head along with the snub point tail that usually has two or three concentric cirles inscribed around the diameter, giving a feeling of an upside down bee hive.
Denis pioneered the famous (or infamous) plastic bobbin as a way to create a bobbin that was light in weight and affordable. Thousands of these are in circulation and are a great started bobbin for newbies. Care should be taken with the white (now aged to cream) plastic bobbins which are often offered for sale as bone or ivory by less understanding sellers.
His Son Bill continues to turn bobbins that are in his own style but pay homage to the Hornsby name.
Bill wrote a wonderful history of his family in Burton Latimer which you can read here and Denis is remembered on the Burton Latimer Heritage Society here.
If you would like to read more about Denis' life then this is the perfect article, also from the Burton Latimer Heritage Society which also includes the obituary from the Lace Guild Magazine in 1993.
Denis Hornsby photo © The Banbury Guardian September 1978 supplied by Louise Bailey
Liz writes:
I first met Denis back in 1989 at the Uxbridge lace day. Over a hundred lacemakers were packed into the Methodist Church whilst the suppliers were one of the rooms that Hillingdon Thumpers would hold their monthly meetings in.
The lacemakers were swarming around all the usual suspects buying their bobbins and supplies and as if by magic, the bodies partied and there in the left hand corner were two tables bursting with equipment and this smiling man standing behind them.
That day was the start of four years of being made to feel that I was important as a lacemaker. Admittedly, there weren't that many new lacemakers in their early 20s at lace days so I was probably easy to remember, but Denis always welcomed me with a 'hello' and by name. He would gently encourage me to try new things and when I bought my first Honiton pillow around 1992, I treated myself to 5 pairs of his hand turned yew bobbins to use as my gimps.
My favourite memory of Denis relates to tatting, something I've tried and failed to master. He had on his stall the biggest shuttles I had ever seen and I commented that this was something I just couldn't do. He told me it was easy and he had the perfect method for learning that he would happily let me into the secret of.
He lowered his voice and leaned towards me. I leaned into in order to grasp this magical solution to my tatting woes.
"So", said Denis, "What you need to do is get your shuttle, get your thread, get a big tumbler and get a bottle of gin".
"Gin?" I asked. "Yes, Gin", said Denis, "but you could use whisky, I'm just saying gin because this secret was shared with me by a lacemaker in Portsmouth who used Portsmouth Gin". We both sagely nodded at that point.
"So, fill the tumbler with gin and then start to wind the shuttle with the thread" I nodded at this. "Then take a big swig of the gin and wind some more thread", he continued, with me nodding along like one of the those dogs that used to be on the back shelf of cars.
"Fill the glass back up and wind some more, then take another swig and wind some more." I nodded again. This sounded ok so far. I had a tumbler at home and a bottle of gin so I could start this when I got back.
"Take another swig, then wind some more, then fill up the glass again." Yep, I could do this.
"Then", Denis said with a finger in the air, "and this is the most important part, put the shuttle in the bin and take the glass and the bottle to bed and have a lie down."
At this point, he started to chuckle to himself. His laugh, as always, was infectious and the two of us stood there giggling like a pair of school girls.
My apologies to any tatters out there. Thing is, over 30 years later and I still can't tat. I can fill up a glass with gin though.
I first met Denis back in 1989 at the Uxbridge lace day. Over a hundred lacemakers were packed into the Methodist Church whilst the suppliers were one of the rooms that Hillingdon Thumpers would hold their monthly meetings in.
The lacemakers were swarming around all the usual suspects buying their bobbins and supplies and as if by magic, the bodies partied and there in the left hand corner were two tables bursting with equipment and this smiling man standing behind them.
That day was the start of four years of being made to feel that I was important as a lacemaker. Admittedly, there weren't that many new lacemakers in their early 20s at lace days so I was probably easy to remember, but Denis always welcomed me with a 'hello' and by name. He would gently encourage me to try new things and when I bought my first Honiton pillow around 1992, I treated myself to 5 pairs of his hand turned yew bobbins to use as my gimps.
My favourite memory of Denis relates to tatting, something I've tried and failed to master. He had on his stall the biggest shuttles I had ever seen and I commented that this was something I just couldn't do. He told me it was easy and he had the perfect method for learning that he would happily let me into the secret of.
He lowered his voice and leaned towards me. I leaned into in order to grasp this magical solution to my tatting woes.
"So", said Denis, "What you need to do is get your shuttle, get your thread, get a big tumbler and get a bottle of gin".
"Gin?" I asked. "Yes, Gin", said Denis, "but you could use whisky, I'm just saying gin because this secret was shared with me by a lacemaker in Portsmouth who used Portsmouth Gin". We both sagely nodded at that point.
"So, fill the tumbler with gin and then start to wind the shuttle with the thread" I nodded at this. "Then take a big swig of the gin and wind some more thread", he continued, with me nodding along like one of the those dogs that used to be on the back shelf of cars.
"Fill the glass back up and wind some more, then take another swig and wind some more." I nodded again. This sounded ok so far. I had a tumbler at home and a bottle of gin so I could start this when I got back.
"Take another swig, then wind some more, then fill up the glass again." Yep, I could do this.
"Then", Denis said with a finger in the air, "and this is the most important part, put the shuttle in the bin and take the glass and the bottle to bed and have a lie down."
At this point, he started to chuckle to himself. His laugh, as always, was infectious and the two of us stood there giggling like a pair of school girls.
My apologies to any tatters out there. Thing is, over 30 years later and I still can't tat. I can fill up a glass with gin though.