FAMILY HOLIDAYS   

0010 Haymaking at the Cottage

The highlight of our last summer holiday each year, was hay-making. This was also the highlight of the year for the local farmer, Roger, since - being a Welsh mountain farmer - he grew very few other crops; not even much corn. Even so the hay crop didn’t come until late July or early August, a couple of months behind that on the lowlands, which was fortunate for that was when we were on holiday.  What little corn he had came in at the end of September, though – being back at school by then – I never had a hand in that.

Roger, me and Ned – the Welsh-speaking farm worker

Haymaking was almost a festival.  It started when the hay itself was cut, often before we arrived, by a horse-drawn grass cutter; though latterly – as the horses were gradually phased out - this was drawn by a tractor, the one tractor Roger possessed.

I remember it well, it was an old pre-war Ford. It took an immense amount of skill even to start it; first on petrol then switching to diesel. Driving it, though, was not too much trouble, apart from the clutch pedal having a travel of at least a foot! I was often allowed the privilege of driving it, people didn’t worry about safety issues in those days; it would never have been allowed now!

Then, over the next days, the hay was turned over by the tedder, a wheeled device carrying large spiked wheels which tossed the hay around, and over, so that it was fully aired.  This was also eventually drawn by the tractor.

The result was that we came to the hayfields to be faced with the hay laid out in long wide rows drying in the sun.  The first task therefore was to rake the hay more closely together, into narrow lines of dried hay. For this we used the traditional wooden hay rake, and our muscles. We then started to load this hay onto the hay cart, using traditional pitchforks which were ideal for this task, and more muscle power. The hay cart was, even as late as the early 1950s, drawn by a team of two enormous cart horses; or at least they seemed enormous to me as a small boy.  In fact this was a quite sensible approach, since the horses moved slowly along by themselves - munching the hay in their own nose bags - where the tractor would have required a driver to constantly stop and start. It was even possible for me to guide them along, though they towered over me, and when one of them once stood on my foot I really felt the ton or more it must have weighed! 

The cart itself was flat but was high at the front and back, so that the hay could be piled up to a great height. In fact it often reached 10 feet high. 

I used to enjoy myself guiding the horses, sometimes even riding on their broad backs.  They were beautiful animals and well looked after, which was unusual for the animals on a hill farm; and they were immensely powerful.

Roger, me and horse!

But I also took my turn with the pitchfork, tossing the hay up to the people who were packing it down on top of the hay wagon.  It was tiring work, but it was great fun - with everyone enjoying themselves in the sun. It went on through the day from early morning until dusk. At the end of the day we were all incredibly tired, but happy. The only stops were for meals, when food was brought out in baskets and everyone sat down and ate the farm’s own produce. The farm produced its own butter, and cured its own bacon, though it did not make any cheese,.  Nothing ever tasted quite as good as that. The men drank their beer and I drank my fizzy drink; and we all rested in the sun. 

Bringing in the hay.

When the cart was finally full it was taken back to the farm and the hay transferred to the Dutch barns, which were essentially just roofs with open sides in which the hay was piled twenty to thirty feet high.  I used then to be on top of the hay stack, helping people bed it down, since I couldn't throw the hay up that high at my tender age.  The hay stack was a wonderful place to be in those days. Later on, long after the harvest was in, we used to play there; sliding down its sides and using it much as a children's playground slide. No slide was ever as much fun as that was.

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