By Eddie Sandes

Part 1 Silverdale

Eddie Sandes was probably best known locally as a Morecambe Bay fisherman, but in the 1970’s Mr Bradley recorded an interview with him about his experiences as a farm hand at the end of the First World War. Mr Bradley has kindly allowed this shortened version of the tape to be printed. (A transcription of the whole tape has been put in the archives. )

When he was thirteen Eddie started working for Jonathan Robertson, first at Knowe Hill, then at Bank House Farm, living in at both places. Bank House had about forty acres, but did not carry so many cows as a farm of that size today, Eddie said.

‘ .. . never above six or eight at the most milking. And you can tell it was a good piece, really a good farm … well, the same farm today … It has twenty odd milk beasts. They’ve got a milking parlour put up, haven’t they? . . . Well, that’s thirty then. So the same farm now is going to have thirty milk cows on it as had six or eight on. ‘

( Who got him up?) Well, the boss, Jonathan. . . Oh, well, he wasn’t a hard task master. I wouldn’t say. Probably seven o’clock, half past six. He wasn’t one of these real hard cases, you know … it was only a small farm and he just liked to live his life and went on. He didn’t do much work himself … Spent a lot of time on rabbiting and things like that … He was a very keen poultry man. He used to do a lot of showing Bard Rocks … That was very popular about here at that time. There was a few in Silverdale. Matt Slater. Him and a fellow called Jackson. He isn’t here now. He’s dead. Old Dr Jackson too .. He was a well known sportsman. He was very keen on this poultry.’. . .

Well of course the lad’s job, the first thing, was to get the cows up ready for milking, you see. .. of course the boss used to milk what you’d say the cows that give the most milk. milking wi’ hand, you know, Because the old-fashioned the faster you could milk them, the better milker you were, the more milk the cow gave. .. Therefore the boss picked the best. Those giving the most milk out. And the lads did what they call the stripper. They were cows that weren’t giving much, what was going to calve again before long … they didn’t give them much cake then, not like they do now. Some of them a bit, but in summer. . . None at all in summer. No.’

‘Yes. Well, yes. Tried (ploughing) . But of course they were never satisfied with a lad’s ploughing, weren’t farmers. They were very proud about their ploughing in those days. How straight it had to be and the depth and everything. Used to spend a lot more time working the land than they do now. Rolled it about more. Put it that way … It was a slow job getting crops in … Very slow. ‘ ‘…

of course, all farms kept a bit of everything then. A pig or two. A few hens, which they don’t now … So then the next job was going feeding these few hens which then they used to be fed outside, not like they are now. I used to take some corn and throw it down on the grass, you know, that’s what the hens got.’ ‘ ….

There’s a lot of good grassland now that was more or less. . well, nearly going to waste .. er .. probably trees growing on it … Bright’s Farm … What they call the Lots, which is a real cattle on it. In those days it was nothing but that wild gorse. We used to go burn it off in summer and snathen it off and that, so the sheep didn’t get fast among it. .. (How many sheep?) … not many. Mick Mason keeps about a hundred yowes now Because he lets them out on the marsh. Well, then about a dozen was a lot, going back. (Then there was very little marsh, not as much as twenty or thirty yards. ) Now there’s probably what? A mile? Quite a mile. Yes.

‘You’d be always found your job. .. Used to fell a tree somewhere because there … was more wood about then than there is now. More waste land. Used to fell a tree and we’d saw it up. Might be you’d spend all day sawing wood up, rather than having to buy coal. The wood did for the fire, d’you see?’ ‘

You see the farmers then, well I understand. . . they were poor, they hadn’t the money to buy the stuff they needed, so they used to have to make their living out of the land, which was ploughing, growing different kinds of fruit … different kinds of crops … vegetables, potatoes, things like that and take them to market and sell them to get the cash to carry on with.’ ‘

… . poultry and that, they used to dress a hen or two each week if they could … See, that was something. It was an income. Same with pigs, you know. They could always kill their own pigs. Cut them up. Some made bacon. Sold a bit of pork. Anyway they could …. ‘ (Pigs were fed) ‘mostly meal, Of course any kind of swill you had. You used to chop mangels for them. Turnips. And most farms grew a bit of corn then. Of course they used to get the corn crushed at the mill and that came back for the pigs. .. ‘

‘ … they used to grow quite a lot of vegetables Peas. Cabbage. Beetroot. Beans, I remember all the farmers would grow all … most of those things. Not just for themselves. To sell. That was a little part of an income … And if you notice every farm’s had an orchard in those days. They haven’t now, but you can still see where the orchard’s been. All of them. Not some. All the lot of them … apples, mostly. A few plums, but plums and pears weren’t as popular. Well, plums are very erratic, aren’t they? You can’t rely on them somehow. .. Apples were the main thing.’

(What happened to the milk?) ‘Well, if they wanted to rear calves, obviously to use the milk to rear them. . . They used it for the bigger calves. .. Oh it was all used on the farm. If they’d more milk than they wanted to rear calves, some used to make butter, some used to make cheese … all of them sold just a drop of milk. Used to go round with a gallon can. . . and an old fashioned measure used to hang inside it.

Hay Making.

‘Well, some of them had to (hire labour in hay time) … but these small holdings didn’t. Only a man at night … these around here used to get a chap to come for a few hours on a fine night from the quarry, but, you know, they were sure they wanted him when he came. There was no coming with nothing much to do. They made the hay ready and had it platted up ready. All he had to do was get it inside.’

‘Oh, we used to be late in those days. Oh, well, they didn’t start before July, sometimes to nearly August. Now it’s just the opposite, you see. You can’t be any earlier. Nothing like June hay, they say now. It’s even got to the piece now they’re starting in May, never mind June. You’d have thought they were mad when they talked about getting some June hay.’

‘When it was first mown they called it swathe you know. Breaking it out of swathe, they called it .. . You spread it with forks then. You’d start turning with a rake, then. You see. Its very hard to get it up and cover all the ground with it. . And you start with a rake to get it off the ground again. Well. it was always damp underneath a plat. So the next day, where it were a dry year, they’d roll it there, like the mother end up. That was procedure …. Turning it.”

‘ … there again in two or three days they have it a good hay now. With the machinery they have. Well then it used to take a week. And most farmers … well, all the good, particular farmers they had to have it standing in cocks a day or two before they were taking it into the barn .. . that was thought to be a necessity in those days. To stand a day or two like that. Of course now it’s in the barn before they would think about cockers¹. ‘

‘The women used to have to help. In hay time you know, that was almost the thing.’ ‘ After the hay had stood in cocks it was brought into the barn. ‘Yes. Yes. Leading .. . That was leading. ‘ Some times on lurries,² but more often on two wheeled carts because they were easier to manoeuvre into a barn.

‘But they had cages on them, as they call them you know. Hay shilvings. Back and front. They would stick out over the horses back, you see. And stick out behind. They called those hay shilvings.

The skill of loading the cart described.

‘That-side. That side. Middle. To hold them you see. You put that side first. You keep backing on your cart. You start at the back. Not at the front. Always start at the back. That corner. That corner. Middle. You see the middle was kind of on the top of those, by that was holding them down. Now then you have your back and you keep backing up the cart. . . No, you don’t go right to the front. You left it .. . you kept doing that until you’d just room for six more. You see. Well, you turn round and start in the two front corners and the centre and work back again. Then the next two behind them bound all the lot d’you see. . . If you’d have carried on and finished on your front corner, there’d be nothing to hold it. It would have gone. That’s how. And you used to mostly put three rounds on a cart, but a good loader, if he was a good way from the barn would put five on, He’d be canny like, you know. He’d some weight up above, you know. . . So if you were on a bit of a slope or anything, you’d to be careful. You could … Carts have been thrown over. Well, many a time. And of course if cart goes over horse has to go with it because it’s fast in the shafts.

(In the barn) ‘you unload it just as you forked it on. You haven’t to break any of the forks up, you see. When you want to fork it off, on to the mow. .. if you don’t take it out as it went in, you’re soon in a mix up. You’re pulling one … trying to get one out that’s fast under the other, d’you see? So, that was it. ….

At the end of twelve months Eddie decided to try another job. This was in the winter of nineteen eighteen/nineteen. The account of his hiring at Ulverstone Fair and his experiences at a big dairy farm forms Part 2

Part 2. Silverdale and Urswick

This second part is mainly about his experience on a bigger farm to which he moved in 1918. It begins however with the story of another Silverdale man, which has interest as showing that at the beginning of this century it was still possible to set up farming with almost no capital. The story came out in reply to a passing question about rents and prices.

Have you any idea what rents were?

‘I a’nt quite sure, but….well, of course, there again, there were good farms and poor farms . Good land and poor land. So that really don’t think you can generalise on a thing like that. But. . er. . you could get a fifty acre farm for round about … fifty pound a year. A pound an acre. Something like that a year.

How much capital would a man need to start up?

‘Mmm. Well, there was an old man here they called him (Eamonn?) Robinson. No relation to the Robinson we’ve been talking about previously. A different man. Farmed Hazelwood Farm. Now he came there about …. 1900. Very early 1900’s. And he always used to tell them that he … that when he came he had fourteen pound, and he spent it immediately on two old horses and a plough, and that’s all the capital he had. From there the income he needed for his wife to keep the house with. stuff he grew, rabbits he caught, and things like that. Took them to the market. Hunting for rabbits, stuff from the orchard. Apples. Anything. Crops he could grow, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, anything in the vegetable line and for another … the other income to pay his rent, and build up stock off … you see all he could do was start with a few calves … worth about anything from five to ten bob a piece. That was something like the price of them then. Used to take in what they call joists cattle³. That means farmers that were better off and probably more cows than they could keep on their own farm. They’d give you so much a week for keeping these. Same applied to sheep. And that’s how he carried on from there. Well, he farmed successfully. He was a good farmer and he was still there till about … oh, 1935 or something like that. So … that’s thirty odd years’.

And he’d make a bit of hay and sell it?

‘Oh no, you see he still kept joist stock in winter. He got paid for … he had to use the hay on the farm For till⁴ If you sold the hay you had to buy …. pay money out of that, which was out altogether for a fellow without the money to buy it. So … No. they used to go mowing bracken and things like that in those days to make bedding for the calves, to make manure. Used to be an agreement in those days, you know. The farmer weren’t allowed to sell hay. Oh yes. They used to put it in the agreement. They called them poor farmers who sold hay and so on and things like that’.

“Robinson, he had a milk round all his life, and when he’d be seventy odd he was still going round with the milk. Used to have a camel to fit on his shoulders, that’s like a wooden thing … With a big can on … on a chain. On each side. A big one. I don’t know. A whole gallon, I suppose. He used to be going round from … Oh, you’d see him going from just turned seven in the morning. One end of the village, and coming out at the other about ten o’clock’.

In November 1918 Eddie Sandes decided to move on.” He went to the Hiring at Ulverston

. …. I went to … Ulverston. At the back end they have what they call hiring. At Ulverston. All the farm servants then went … that’s on the 11th of November … there were dozens of lads and quite a lot of farmers, walking about looking for what they thought a likely lad …. and they would come and ask you … you make your hiring and they shake hands and then they gave you two shillings. They called that earl⁵ money and that was binding. That bound you to them for six months. That were how it went about. … You simply walked up and down the street till somebody come and ask you. ”

The hirings were for six months?

“The six months was from the 11th of November … till Whit Saturday. Whit Saturday was the day you finished. Always. Whatever date it came on … Then you were hired again for the summer period .. You’d a week’s holiday and you went back the week after. Till November. But they always used to like to pay a bit more for the summer than the winter because it was longer hours. Haytime and things like that. … . “

There was one (Hiring Fair) at Lancaster. But there were very few there. People give over going. It (Ulverston) was practically the only one. They came from way up the fells. Down below Lancaster they used to go to Ulverston hiring. Oh, it was the best place’.

Farming at Urswick.

‘And I hired then to this place called Jackson’s at Ossick. Or Urswick. I don’t know how to pronounce it really …. For six pound tor the winter. I would roughly be I think about fifteen, sixteen years old then … just right away when the war finished. The same years that the war finished? Yes’.

… something like four hundred acres. They used to milk about sixty cows … He used to buy them as he needed to keep his milk average up, you see. One was knocking off its milk, it used to have to go, and buy another one … Losing money on cows and getting it back on kit⁶ Put it that way, ”

They didn’t do any brackening there, because they didn’t rear any calves. But they used to buy grazers in the spring, mostly Irish cattle then, for feeding for beef. Instead of rearing calves. They were milking all the year round, but … in summer there was an awful lot of grazers … mostly Irish. “. ..

There was four lads about my age. . about sixteenish. Something like that. Four lads and a man. Called him the hirer. He was the boss, like. Not the old one, but he was in charge of us. We were there six months. The winter six months. Seven days a week, for up every morning at quarter to five. If you didn’t get up, he’d pull you out … We all four slept in the same room. It was a big bedroom. And that was it’. ‘…

‘..we used to take the milk in churns to Ulverston station, which was if I remember right about four miles. And we had to catch a train there at half-past eight … That was my job. (The milk went) … To Barrow for delivery. He used to sell it to … a dairy. Oh there’d be … six or seven churns. Kits … not churns. Kits. ‘

‘Well, we used to start at quarter to five, but I didn’t milk as long as the other chaps. I was the eldest of these four lads. That’s why I got that job. I had to take it to Ulverston station in the morning. With the milk float and horse. I used to go down … go into the house for my breakfast. I’d have (to) yoke my horse up and take it to the dairy … They used to give me time so that I was just about there at the time they’d finish milking, d’you see? To get all the milk in the kit’.

‘The first job was, give them an armful of hay in the morning between the two cows. A tub, as they used to call it. That’s provin⁷ And as you came to them to milk them you gave them the provin. The tub was down there and you flung it down in front of them. They had the hay to eat as soon as you got up. But as you come up to milk time you used to pick the tub up and drop it in front of them. … It you didn’t do that they wouldn’t let the milk down. See? ‘

‘The quantity of milk they were giving, they got the quantity of cake … exactly .. you see. The tubs weren’t always the same size. The more milk a cow gave the more provin they gave it. ”

(For provin) we used to use … two things; cotton cake. And oil cake. Those two. They used to come in slabs about, oh .. if I remember right, eighteen inch to two foot long about a foot wide and perhaps three quarters of an inch thick. Something like that .. there was a machine like a thing with … not teeth but kind of spikes in it. Used to drop it in at the top and twine the handle and it used to crush it , ‘you see … Like a hopper .. it had a slide down, you see the weigh of the cake … Now when it got to there, the jaws were perhaps only about that width. One there going round and one here going round, and it took hold of them, do you see.

I was there in winter six months, I didn’t want to stop for I’d had enough of winter there (laughter) … its a rough job … but I can tell you this little bit, when we went in, hired, as I told you … He said, right, he said, well, come on such a train and we’ll pick you up at Ulveston Station .. of course. I didn’t know him, but when we got there, there were these other lads. There were four of us he picked up. We were all strangers and we’d been going away in float he said this is start of our land, that’s our turnip yonder. I said how many acres is that? He said twenty acre. An there was snow on the ground, all covered with snow!… We nearly passed out when he told us we had twenty acres of turnips to pull, because it was a lot, you know. Well you had to pull them with hand .. Oh many a day like, us four lads in there! You know what it’s like in old snow any time you pick anything up. Of course they’d get them (balled?) in the cart before the real bad weather come, but that particular day, that was Martinmas, there was snow on the ground then. So it wasn’t very promising telling you you’d all those to pull, and they were covered with snow, was it? That was the first insight … they’d take them to the farm and cover then with bedding like, to keep the frost off them, d’ you see. Kind of hog⁸ them as they call it.

1. This appears to be the reading, although this form of the word has not been found elsewhere ↩︎
2. A lurry; any four-wheeled vehicle on a farm. ↩︎
3. Joist, jist or gist. The word is still in common use in this area. The OED gives gist ‘to take in (or put out) cattle at so much per head” and considers it to be related to the French gite, a lodging. ↩︎
4. Till Locally: fertiliser. (i.e. by using a farm’s own hay to feed the cattle the goodness would be given back to the land in the animal droppings and fertilise it). ↩︎
5. Oxford English Dictionary (OED) Earl or Arle (Northern) To ‘fasten’ by earnest money ↩︎
6. OED Kit – A circular wooden vessel made of hooped staves… a vessel used for carrying milk etc. Here, presumably used for the content rather than the container. ↩︎
7. Provin still in use today in this area. The nearest word in the OED is Provend – Food provisions esp dry food for horses, as corn and hay ↩︎
8. Hog OED To store potatoes etc in a heap covered with straw andd earth (Orig obscure) ↩︎

Published in Mourholme Magazines Issue 15 1990 and Issue 16 1991