The main text is best read as a story, but here is a list of topics I have picked out (A.B):
On it stood the house built of Kentish weatherboarding, consisting of living room, 3 bedrooms, kitchen and pantry. There was no bathroom and the toilet was outside. Neither was there any electricity, gas, water or main drainage. Water was supplied from a pump in the back yard which had to be cossetted in winter and well lagged with straw, sacks and tarpaulin. Every night after the last pail full had been pumped off, a handful of salt was put down and the top covered. Even then it sometimes froze and we thought longingly of the luxury of the next farm along the road where the pump was situated over the sink inside the kitchen. The water was very good, but very hard and used for drinking only. For washing and laundry soft water was collected in rain butts at different points round the house and barn. Cooking and lighting was by means of paraffin stoves and lamps.
For many years the farm stayed its original size but gradually by renting and buying the acreage increased until, when he retired in 1951, it was over 30 acres. Except for the last 10-15 years he worked the holding mainly single handed, being greatly assisted by my mother and, as soon as we were old enough, by my sister and myself at weekends and in school holidays. For certain specific jobs or in times of urgency, casual labour was engaged or neighbouring farmers, particularly Mr. Dennis who held the next smallholding, would give a helping hand. This would of course be reciprocated when the need arose. The methods of farming then employed were so different from those practised now, that a few random notes on it seem worthwhile.
The beans grown were Green Windsor or Longpod, but I do not know the varieties of wheat. In addition to these two crops, others, not grown under contract or for seed, provided a rotation. Potatoes for human consumption (early and maincrop: Eclipse, Epicure, Sharp's Express, King Edward and Majestic) and roots such as mangold wurzels for cattle food were the main alternatives. Artificial fertilizers were used sparingly then and only before planting potatoes. Residue from this was sufficient for the following corn crop and the wheat stubble ploughed in provided nutrition for the beans, which in turn fixed nitrogen in the soil to further aid the root crops. Sometimes clover was sown with the wheat, to be ploughed in as manure the following autumn.
As the acreage increased, new crops were introduced - oats, peas, runner beans, clover and flax (all grown for seed under contract) as well as carrots and sugar beet. (However, since these were grown after I left home for university, I am not familiar with the details.)
In the early years we had a horse, Duke, and another in the late 1930s, Flower; a few chickens and ducks inhabited the plait (stack yard) and we did try a couple of pigs until this became uneconomic and they had to go. It was not until the 1940s, when a full time farm labourer, Lawrence, was employed, that a tractor appeared on the scene. But the period I am mainly concerned with was before this - mainly the 1920s and 1930s.
The stable to accommodate two horses was the third part of the barn, built in 1924, to which was also attached a cart shed for two carts or waggons. The first, largest, part was used for general purpose storage of tools, seed before planting, produce from harvest before dispatch and for work when the weather was bad. The second, small, area, was used for storing hay and for the large wooden bins of food for the poultry. On a hot summer's day there was nothing so deliciously cool as plunging a bare arm deep into the bran, or middlings or sharps (different gradings of milled corn). Other bins contained wheat, whole or kibbled maize, or oats. Separating these two parts and the stable was a doorway across which was fixed, when horses were in residence, two specially designed bars which proved better than a door since they were kick proof against a horse should it by any chance become loose. The bars are best described by a diagram. Part of the bar swivelled at A. To insert the bar, the tenon B was pushed far into the door post mortise, enabling tenon C to enter its hole on the other door jamb. Then the moveable part was closed down, securing the bar.
Every few years the 'long reach', a field of about 7 acres, about quarter of a mile in length, would be ploughed deeper by steam plough. The big steam engines stood one at either end while, by means of a cable fed onto revolving drums on each engine, the multi-furrowed plough was pulled to and fro. The plough had two sets of shares; while one cut the furrows the other was carried high. At the end of each journey, the plough was up-ended so the second set of shares came into use for the return journey. One disadvantage of steam ploughing was the wide headland it left which either had to be ploughed by horse or dug by hand.
After ploughing the ground was fined and a seed bed prepared by harrowing. The harrows were made of crossed parallel timbers with tines at their intersections, and, like the cultivators adapted to the job in hand by different sizes and weights. They were sometimes used in series, a finer being drawn behind a heavy one. The tines of these and all other cultivating machinery were periodically taken to the blacksmith (Hartops of New Romney) for sharpening.
Sowing
The seed wheat was drilled up to 10 rows at a time in November, and the ground then rolled. Wurzel was drilled in April, two rows at a time, sets of rotating cups would pick up just enough seed to be dropped down the funnel-shaped spouts to the ground. This was a three-man operation, one to lead the horse, one to guide the drill using the bar-handle at the front of the drill and a third (me, if available) to walk behind and see that the drill was working properly and the cups did not fail to pick up the seed.
When carrots were sown, a small amount of lettuce seed was mixed in with it. Carrot seed is relatively slow to germinate and cannot stand competition from small weeds. Weeding after the carrots have formed disturbs the soil and attracts the carrot fly. So it is essential to cultivate before the carrots come through. The lettuce, being a quick developer, showed the line of the rows and allowed early shimming.
Broad beans were sown by hand, the ground having been 'creased' (marked into rows) using a turnip seed drill. The beans were planted with a dibber, a bent stick with an iron pout. The procedure was: dib a hole, drop in bean, dib to fill the hole, and move along the row. Spare seed was carried in a canvas bag tied round the waist.
Potatoes were also planted by hand; as the rows were marked out, artificial manure was spread at the same time by the drill. Sometimes this fertilizer, carried in a trug, was broadcast by hand along the rows. Potatoes could be dibbed in but more often were planted by hand and foot. One seed was placed in a row, trodden by the heel into the ground, another dropped in front of the toe, and so on along the never-ending rows. Immediately afterwards the ground was harrowed to cover the seed and protect it from frosts.
Often a flock of sheep was brought in at this stage to eat off the growing corn - which seems at first sight an odd thing to do. But this not only firmed the plants, but encouraged them to make more roots and to send up extra shoots, thus increasing the final yield, a process known as tillering. The sheep, at the same time, were manuring the land. As the crop grew too high for it to be machine weeded, it must be hand hoed and spudded.
When the corn was in ear 'roguers' were sent by Carters - trained men who walked up and down the rows, pulling out any plants of the wrong variety (rogues) which might have come in with the seed - thus keeping the strain as pure as possible.
Beans and potatoes were also shimmed and hand hoed several times in the season, but even there the weeds would sometimes get the upper hand. A rainy spring or early summer would prevent any cultivation, as the land was too wet for man or machinery to venture on without doing damage, but the weeds would flourish. After a field had been shimmed or hoed it needed a dry spell of at least a day for the weeds to shrivel and die. A prolonged shower immediately following the cultivation would allow the weeds to revive and take root again. All the work and time would have been wasted. The last operation in the potato field was to earth them up with a potato plough, which had an elongated arrow shaped share which formed a furrow, throwing up a ridge over the potatoes on either side.
Wurzels needed to be thinned. First the row was chopped through with a wide hand hoe, leaving tufts of plants about every 9 inches. Then these would be 'singled' out by hand, leaving one plant from each tuft - a back-breaking job.
Broad beans were attacked by dolphin (bean aphids or blackfly) and it was desirable to sow the beans as early in February as weather conditions would allow, so that the pods would be developed before the insect arrived. The major problem with potatoes was blight, against which the crop was sometimes sprayed with Bordeaux mixture using a knapsack sprayer. Blight was mostly likely to strike when hot sun immediately followed heavy rain, as in the frequent summer thunderstorms.
Two particular instances stand out in my memory. Times were very hard in the late 1920s and early 1930s, and the only way to survive was to capture the best part of the market. Being dependent on outside labour for ploughing etc. was disadvantageous as having to take one's place in the queue meant that sowing and cultivating was not always done at the ideal moment. But one year my father had managed to have his early potatoes well advanced and a fine healthy crop gave promise of catching the early market and the best prices. Alas, a late frost one June morning cut off the whole crop. We awoke to find a blackened field - the haulm completely cut off - resulting in a reduced yield and a much later crop. It was the only time I knew him give way to despair, though provocation presented itself many times.
On another occasion I recall standing at the window during a heavy thunderstorm, watching a field of promising wheat being flattened. Straw was long in those days, often 5-6 ft, and a fine upstanding crop could be laid flat in a matter of minutes, which could be disastrous. 'Lain' corn took longer to ripen, so part of the crop was ready for reaping while some was not. That underneath might not ripen at all, stay wet and go mouldy or rot. Reaping was more difficult. If the corn lay all the same way sometimes the reaper could get beneath it and pick some of it up. If however there was wind with the rain, the straw twisted in all directions, and then the whole area would need to be cut and tied by hand, a long and laborious task.
As 'relaxation' from a day's farming, my father's evenings were spent in the garden, where, in part of the farm, too narrow to be included in the main field, he grew market garden produce, including soft fruit, cauliflowers, cabbage, ridge cucumbers and lettuce, which he sold to local shops or sent to Ashford market. One year, getting up at dawn, 9 dozen lettuce were cut and packed ready for the carrier to take to Ashford. Imagine the disappointment in the evening when we learned that the 9 dozen had fetched 9d with market dues of 3d and carriage of 3d - total left for us: 3d (1.25p). Isolated incidents are these two, but by no means atypical of the worry and disappointments which had to be faced.
A word about the carriers - Turk's of Lydd - who drove across the Marsh, calling at numerous villages on the way to Ashford every Tuesday and Friday. Amongst many ways in which Mr. and Mrs. Turk, and later their daughter, served the community was this of taking produce to market, delivering it to the appropriate stall, paying market dues, collecting the proceeds and then returning it and the empties to the owners. Many a time as a child I was grateful to them for a lift as I walked the two lonely, dreary miles home from school.
The field was 'opened' by hand, a swathe cut with a bagging hook right round the crop wide enough for the horse drawn binder to travel. This corn was bound into sheaves by a bond made from the wheat itself. Taking two large handfuls, the lengths were crossed just below the ears. Then, with a twist, the lower one was brought up and over, and back through the parted straw of the upper one, making a strong bond which, though not actually tied, would not come undone. When enough corn was cut to form a sheath, the butt ends were twisted together and stuck into the bond. Once this was completed, the binder (reaper) hired from Homewoods of Newchurch came in. The corn, cut by laterally moving blades, was guided by revolving sweeps or paddles onto a moving platform, gathered in sheaves to be deftly tied with binder twine and finally dispatched from the machine by the backward flick of a three-pronged fork. These sheaves were now 'shocked', that is stood on end in two rows, tips meeting, ten or twelve sheaves to a shock, where they stayed to finish ripening and drying until carried to the stackyard, two or three weeks later, according to the weather.
The stack was circular, 18-20 feet diameter at the base and gradually increasing as it grew so that the sides sloped outwards, and rain running off the roof would fall on the ground and not run down the sides. The stack builder somehow knew just when to start decreasing the diameter again to build the roof. As the stack became too high for the pitcher from the waggon to reach the top, the 'lubber hole' was used, this being a small platform in the side of the roof where a man stood and received sheaves from the waggon, passing them over his head to those waiting above. The last few sheaves of the final load were used to fill in the lubber hole. (There was an illustration of this in Bygone Kent, vol. 5, no. 3, p.127.)
The bonds for the straw sheaves were made in bad weather or in the winter, with straw or hay, using a wimble. One person turning the handle walked slowly backwards, while the other fed the hay into the lengthening bond - a simple enough sounding operation, but one which needed considerable skill to ensure the evenness of the bond throughout. When the required length was reached, the bond was doubled back on itself.
As the potatoes were needed throughout the winter and spring, the clamp would be opened up, providing that the weather was not frosty. The potatoes were dug out with a special potato shovel and riddled - that is, sorted into sizes by a series of sieves. One person fed the riddle while a second activated it by turning a handle and at the same time inspecting the potatoes and removing any damaged or diseased ones as they travelled on the moving platform to the sacks.
(One use of wurzels not widely known was as an excellent cough cure. Slices about half an inch thick were interlaced with brown sugar and allowed to stand. A thick syrup, ideal for children with whooping cough, was produced. Incidentally, another remedy for this complaint was to take the child into a field of broad beans when they were in full flower. The fragrance from such a field is an experience never to be forgotten.)
Selling eggs was one of the sidelines of the farm and even this could not be relied upon to be profitable. Selling to the local grocers resulted in only a penny three farthings a dozen (a tenth of the normal price) on one occasion. When in the plait, the hens were fed twice a day mash - a mixture of bran or middlings (the coarser part of ground wheat) in hot water, often enhanced by chat (small) potatoes which had been boiled in an old copper in the yard in the morning, and wheat, oats or maize in the evenings. Ducks too were kept for a while, but they tended to swim round the Marsh ditches and lay their eggs away from home. When all but one of a new brood of ducklings was killed one night by a stoat, duck rearing was abandoned.
My father also sometimes did some 'lookering' (the Romney Marsh term for shepherding) for Mr. Balcombe, in return for our horse being allowed to graze in the field. This mainly consisted of making sure the sheep, especially when the wool was heavy, did not slip into the steep sided ditch, and become bogged down, and of watching for foot rot and for 'fly'. The latter were the maggots of the green bottle fly which would burrow into the flesh of the sheep, spoil the fleece and cause lack of condition and appetite. The wool had to be clipped away, the maggots brushed off and the skin well rubbed with disinfectant.
At times we gathered mushrooms from the fields and sent them to market, and we searched the fences and hedges for sheep's wool to be sold to the rag and bone man who came round periodically in his horse and trap. As his name implies, he also bought rags and bones, all of which were saved assiduously.
There was the sun, the fresh air, the gentle rain, the sparkling frost in the open sky. There was the knowledge of having produced something good, a year's work well done, a mission accomplished. I once asked my father which season he liked best, and this was the autumn - when you could start afresh, learn from past mistakes, try something new and look forward with hope.