Local Memories

Ninety Years of Memories of a Shebbear Farmer

MAURICE LEWIS JOHN ADAMS

Maurice on his 98th birthday

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To all my friends over 90 years, to all my family, past, present and future. To my son, Brian, for his inspiration and to my son-in-law, John, for typing up and interpreting my scrawl!

FOREWORD

On 9th January 2017, Brian and I were driving back to my home at Westward Ho! from the Bickford Arms pub at Brandis Corner. We had been there for the ‘wake’, after my cousin, Rene Glidon’s funeral. As we passed North Worden Farm (my home for most of my life), Brian said, “I doubt if anyone in the next 90 years will see as many changes as you have seen in the last 90 years.” It started me thinking and I decided to write down my memories, instead of watching so much television. I decided to write down a few memories, each evening, when possible!

John Adams married Elizabeth Paige Quance in 1894 and they had 3 sons - Embert John Adams was born in 1896; Clarence Paige Adams, 1899; and William Redvers Adams, 1902. Pivate Embert John Adams (1^st Battalion Prince Albert’s (Somerset Light Infantry) was killed in action in France on 24 October 1918.

Clarence Paige Adams, Embert John Adams, and William Redverse Adams - Maurices's father and uncles

In memory - 24 October 1924

Maurice Lewis John Adams was born on 21st March 1927. He was the only son of Clarence Paige Adams and Frances Elsie Adams (born Vanstone). He has two children, Christine and Brian, four grandsons and seven great grandchildren. He was born in the farmhouse at North Worden farm, Shebbear. When Brian took over the farm, he moved to Westlands (opposite Shebbear College) and on retirement, moved to Beach Road, Westward Ho!

The marriage of Maurice's parents - Clarence Adams and Frances Vanstone in 1926

MY FIRST MEMORIES

My first ever memory is helping my Mother wash the butter, at the lead pump at the end of the barn. The well supplied all our water. I think I was about two years old, and I would pump the water into the bowl holding the butter and Mother would wash out all the buttermilk. Back then, no milk was sold off the farm. As soon as it was milked and strained and still warm, it was taken into the dairy, where it was put through the separator. The cream was put into the butter churn and turned into butter. Both the separator and the churn were turned by band. After the butter was washed and salted, Mother would weigh it into l pound lumps. Using scotch hands, she would shape it into oblongs and then wrap it in greaseproof paper. It was sold to Mr Jones of Sheepwash.

If you wanted clotted cream, you would put some warm milk into a large pan and let it stand overnight. then the next morning, the pan would be heated on the open fire, up to just under boiling, then left to cool. You would have lovely thick clotted cream! The milk, which was left after the cream was taken off -"buttermilk". was fed to the pigs, with barley meal and boiled potatoes. All the small potatoes were fed to the pigs, they were boiled in a big crock, hanging over the open fire.

1904 map showing Worden

Worden farmhouse

EARLY SCHOOL DAYS

I started at Shebbear School (primary) when I was five years old (1932). To start with, Mother would walk with me to the end of Allacott Lane, where I met with the three Palmer girls, Ivy, Beryl and Jean. We would walk to Highworthy and meet with Freda Hearn and Avis Headon and the six of us would walk about one and a half miles to school, hopefully, on time. Mr Woolcock was Headmaster and Miss Brock, the Junior teacher. Most days I would take a metal hoop with me, wheeling it along, with an iron rod, with a bend at one end and a handle at the other – Mr Alf Ayers, the blacksmith, made it for me. His forge was at the top of Shebbear hill.

1932 Shebbear College Prize Day Report

Maurice Adams

While at Shebbear School, I started playing the piano. Miss Annie Squance was my teacher, she was the housekeeper for Mr Walters who farmed at Hill Farm. I would walk there, once a week, going up Hill Back Lane. Every Friday, it was my job to fetch the weekly paper, “The Western Times”. I would walk up to Higher Forda where Mr and Mrs Blight farmed.

Of course, there were no school meals back then, so we all had to take packed lunches. If the weather was good, as soon as we had finished lunch a lot of the boys would go down to the bottom of the field, on the opposite side of the road on school corner, climbing trees. If we were late back for afternoon lesson, there would be punishment from Mr Woolcock … the cane!

Moles – to have some pocket money, I would trap moles, I had about twenty traps and if a mole run appeared anywhere on the farm, I would set a trap. The first job, after arriving home from school, was to go around to all my traps and take out any moles I had caught. I would take them up to the granary to dismantle them and dry their skins. When I had several skins, I would parcel them up and send them to ‘Horace Friend of Wisbech’ and he would send me a postal order, in payment. So, some days I would take a penny pocket money to school and spend it at the shop up the road. I could buy ten toffees for one penny (there were two hundred and forty pennies to the pound in those days). At the bakery next door, I could get a jam-filled doughnut for a penny – Mr Hocking was the shopkeeper, and Mr Greenslade the baker, assisted by Mr Frank Buse. Sometimes the boys would buy a packet of Wills Woodbine cigarettes and have a smoke.

Food was very basic; most things were homemade. I think the only food that Mother bought was bread that was delivered twice a week by Mr Isaac Buse, Arthur’s father. Hygiene was not a priority – you would see Mr Buse deliver the bread, jump in his van, spit on his hands and drive off. Flour was bought in big bags and tipped in the floor hutch in the kitchen. Breakfast would be fried eggs, fried rashers of bacon, about two inches thick and fried bread (in the bacon fat). That was called bread and dripping (beautiful). A slice of bread with clotted cream and syrup or homemade jam, or a slice of toast, toasted over the open fire. At 10.30am, a cup of tea with a piece of homemade yeast cake or split and butter. Everybody stopped work for dinner at 1pm, this was the main meal of the day. Roast pork, beef, chicken or rabbit with suet pudding and home-grown veg.

Pork was the main meat as we slaughtered our own. They would be quite old, the older they were the better the flavour. The pigs were reared on barley meal and all kitchen waste and boiled potatoes. Butcher Arnold would kill the pigs, then scrape the hair of the carcase. The intestines (pots) would be washed clean and allowed to stand in salt water for a day. The liver would be fried, the kidneys and lights were boiled to make hog’s pudding. The next day, Butcher Arnold would cut up the carcase, and Mother, Farther and the maid would cut up what size joints were needed, and all the outside of every joint was covered with salt (which would be in blocks about two feet long and six inches square). As the joints were salted, they were then stored in large earthenware salters which were kept in the dairy on the slate bench with the separator and churn. No part of the pig was wasted – all the odd bits of meat were minced to make hog’s puddings, and all the scrap meat would be minced and have groats and salt and pepper added, and then put into the pots. They were boiled and stored. My Grandma Adams loved pig’s trotters and pig’s tail. I can picture her now – she would pick every bit of meat off the bones with her fingers and eat it with gravy running down her chin. Our evening meal would be at any time, depending on what we were doing or if there was an emergency. It would consist of potato and beef pasty, or parsley pasty, or cold meat and salad. Yeast cake, yeast splits or stewed apple and custard. During the winter months before going to bed, we would take the lantern and go out and give all the cattle and horses a feed of hay. Then have a cup of tea or cocoa and a homemade biscuit, and off to bed.

LIFE AT HOME IN THE 1930S

LIGHTING - there was no mains water or mains electricity. In the house, we used oil lamps. There were three different sizes. A small hand lamp, to carry around; a tall standard lamp, usually with two wicks; and the mantle lamp, which gave a good light. They all burnt paraffin oil, Of course, there was the faithful candle, usually to see the way to bed! We had the oil-fired lantern to use outdoors. There were no battery lamps to use on cycles. We had carbide lamps, where the carbide was put in the bottom container and water in the top container. There was a little tap to control the drops of water on to the carbide, and as soon as the water touched the carbide, a flammable gas was given off which would go to a jet in the: front of the light and you would ignite it with a match. Most of the local chapels had carbide gas lighting.

Maurice's oil lamp

HEATING – all the heat would come from the open fire in the kitchen. There were about six crooks hanging above the fire, on which you would hang kettles and big ten-gallon crocks (boilers). The oven was in the side wall of the fireplace and had to be heated by burning sticks in it before the fire bricks, lining the oven, were white hot. After taking out the ashes, it was ready to be used for baking. There were fire grates in the other three rooms and they all burnt logs. North Worden Farm had four chimneys and, in the bedrooms, where the chimneys passed through, there were very small fire grates.

BEDROOMS – all the bedrooms had a bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a marble topped wash table on which stood a large wash basin, a water jug, and a soap dish and flannel, By the side of the table was a free-standing wooden towel rail. Every morning, hot water was fetched from one of the boilers in the kitchen. There always hot water because the open fire had hot coals during the night. We had an all-over wash every morning, using carbolic soap. The old people used to say, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness". This saying has stayed with me all my life!

HYGIENE – clothes washing was done in the kitchen sink, which pumped water from the well by the barn. Every Saturday evening, we would have a bath, in a galvanised tin bath in the kitchen. We would also have a desert spoonful of Syrup of Figs.

TOILETS – there were no indoor toilets, so everybody had a chamber pot, which you would keep under the bed and the older people would have a night commode, beside the bed. Every morning, Mother, or the maid would go around and empty the chamber pots into an enamel slop pail with a lid and wash out the chamber pots. The contents were put on the "Dung Heap" in the cattle yard. There was an outside toilet, which had a three-gallon bucket. The contents were dealt with in the same way and then some Jeyes Fluid put in the bottom of it. Toilet paper was old newspapers!

WATER – if we were short of water in the yard, we had two large granite troughs, which caught all the water off the farm building. We would fetch some from a little well at the bottom of Well Park. Father had made a sledge and fixed a forty-gallon tank on it. A horse would pull it down to the well, we would drop a bucket into the well and pull it up with a rope tied to the handle and fill the drum. When full, the horse would pull it up to the yard and we would dip it out and put the water in the troughs for the cattle to drink.

LIFE ON THE FARM IN THE 1930'S

PLOUGHING – the fields would be ploughed in the Autumn and Winter. We had a single furrow cut plough, pulled by two horses. You would try and cut in straight, plough down one side travel along the headland, making sure to press on the handles so the plough would slide on top of the soil, then plough up the other side. The horses knew exactly where to go, they would automatically turn at the end with very little guidance from the reins. One horse would walk up the furrow. You would plough about one acre per day, whether the weather was wet or dry, and we used to wear breeches, nail boots and leather leggings. If it was raining, we would put a thick bag over our shoulders and one around our waist, held on by four-inch nails. If we were ploughing a fair distance from the farmhouse, we would take a packed lunch and for the horses, a feed bag each, which would be hung over the horse's neck. They would bend their neck down and have their lunch, which was oat chaff, whole oats and pulped mangolds. For drink, we would undo their chains and walk them to a stream or drain outlet. We bought our leather boots and leggings from Mr George Ackland (Ron Ackland's father) who had a shop in the square. He put nails, heels and toe metal plates on the bottom of each boot. Then we would wear them and get them soaking wet, that would take a day's ploughing in the rain. You kept them on, until they dried on your feet, and next day, you put a good coat of dubbin on them. You wouldn't get any problem with boots rubbing your feet, after that.

TILLING – if we had a hard frost during the winter, it would make tilling much easier as the soil would break down to a fine tilth, much quicker. The first thing was to put the heavy roller over the ploughed land, pulled by two horses and then you would follow with two horses pulling a pair of heavy harrows. If the soil was tough, you may have to go over it two or three times. The fertiliser was spread by hand. You would put the manure in the butt with one man sat at the back of the butt spreading the manure by hand or using a small fire pan. The other man would drive the horse, making sure to drive the same distance all the time. We had a corn drill, to till the seed, pulled by two horses. You would put the corn in the drill, set the amount you wanted to sow with a little lever. There were different amounts for wheat, barley and oats, The wheat was sown in the Autumn, and oats and barley in the Spring. After drilling, one horse would pull a light set of harrows over the field and it would then be rolled down, with one horse pulling a light roller. If the corn was being under-sown with grass seeds, they would be sown after the corn had been harrowed in. The grass seed was put in a kidney-shaped container, called a seedlip, which was slung over your shoulder, and as you walked you would spread the grass seed by hand, about four throws to a handful. At each end of the field, you would place a stick, about three yards apart and walk straight to the stick at the other end and move it three paces at each end, When the grass seed had been sown, the field was rolled by two horses, pulling the heavy roller. I remember drilling corn for Mr Blight, of Higher Forda, the field at Highworthy Cross.

For tilling mangolds and swedes, the soil had to be a very fine tilth. We had a three-coulter drill, pulled by one horse. For killing the weed, between the rows, a three row scarifier was used, pulled by one horse. Then the rows would be thinned by hand, using a garden hoe. The kale was sown the same way but not thinned out. For thistles in corn, we would do the weeding by hand using a sharp steel blade, one inch wide, put on a fork handle. The thistles had to be cut below a black ring on the stem, or they would still live – I remember, one year, Rupert Ley and I were weeding in Higher Ellis field, the thistles were in batches, about a foot high, when Father came home from Holsworthy market. He said, "I've bought some bags of white powder. which is supposed to kill weeds and not harm the corn", So we spread this powder by hand, where the thistles were thickest and after two or 'three days the weeds started dying and the thistles were completely killed. That was the start of weed killers and then sprays! When tilling potatoes, the tilth had to be much deeper, so spring harrows were used which meant going over the field, several times, with the heavy roller and harrows. When the ground was fit to plant, one horse would pull the potato plough and make ridges; the fertiliser was spread by hand and the potatoes planted by hand, in the valleys; then one horse would pull the plough and split the ridges to bury the potatoes.

IMPLEMENTS ON THE FARM - one butt, which would tip; a cart with lades; one wagon with lades and a braking shoe, for going downhill with a heavy load on the road; a grass mower; one self-binder for cutting com; two granite rollers (one heavy, one light); two sets of harrows; one corn drill; a turnip drill; one hay turner; one hay rake; a scarifier for killing weeds between rows of root crops; one potato plough; one set of chain harrows; a set of spring harrows; several hooks, cross-cut saws and axes.

IMPLEMENTS IN THE BARN - one threshing machine, to thresh some corn before the threshing contractors could come; a grinding mill; one circular saw; one chaff cutter; a pulper for mangolds; one wet stone, turned by hand, to sharpen axes and hooks. These were all driven by a Tangye oil engine, in the old round house. From the Tangye engine a belt went up to a pulley on the old shaft, which was originally used when horses drove the machinery by walking around the round house, pulling a beam around, which turned cogs and then the shafting. The belt would be on a loose pulley. When the engine was started, the belt would be pushed on to a fixed pulley and then turn the shafting, which went right across the barn. There were several pulleys on the shafting.

Tangye oil engine

HAY HARVEST – hay harvest would usually start at the beginning of June. Two horses would pull the mower with one man on the seat, with a foot pedal to raise the cutting beam at each corner. If the weather was good, the mower was kept cutting day after day. The cut grass was left to dry for a day, then it would be turned. If the sward was too heavy to be turned by the turner, it was turned over by hand using a pitchfork. Everybody would help, even the women. You would go around the opposite way, from the mower, to make it easier to turn the grass, so that the other side would dry. Then it could be turned by the turner, pulled by one horse in shafts. The driver would sit on the seat and guide the horse. It may have to be turned two or three times. When the hay was fit to take in, it would be raked into rows (trones). The rake was about six feet wide, for transporting from field to field. There was a jack on the rake which would be let down - reverse the horse and it would lift the rake, you could then pull out the wheel, on a sliding axle. Then unfold the rake extension, each side, making the rake ten feet wide. The hay was then raked into heaps, ready for loading. It would take at least five people to get the hay in - one person with horse and cart; another person with horse and wagon. Both the cart and wagon had lades, front and back. Whoever was in charge of the horse and cart, or wagon would make their own load. One man would pitch the hay with a pitchfork and when loaded, the hay would be roped down tight to prevent hay falling off. Ropes would be crossed. The loads would then be taken into the yard to be put in the hay shed. One man would make the rick, filling all three bays at once. The man in charge of the horse and cart would use the elevator to unload. It was a fork about three feet long and two feet wide and it had pointed tips; it would be pushed down into the load of hay, the pointed tips turned ninety degrees using a lever, to which was attached a small rope; there was a long rope (one inch thick), attached to a cradle down around a pulley on the big fork; up to the cradle again, all along the beam to the other end of the shed, where there was another pulley, down to a post and pulley, at ground level. The end was attached to the horse harness when it was ready to go. Whoever was leading the horse, that was usually me or one of the women, would walk it on and pull the big fork of hay up to the cradle and along the track, to where the rick-maker wanted it - he would shout, "pull" and the chap on the load would pull his small rope and release the hay. If I was not leading the horse in the elevator, I would lead the horse and the cart in the field, being sure to shout, "hold tight", to warn the chap on the load that the cart was moving. When I was old enough, I would be in charge of one of the carts or pitched the hay in the field. If we finished before dark, Father would say "Let's go down to the River Torridge and have a dip" to wash off all the dust. If, when the hay was heaped up and rain looked imminent, the heaps would be made into tidy pokes so that most of the rain would run off. Next day, if the weather was good, the pokes would be spread and turned, then raked up again. When all the heaps of hay had been taken in, the fields would be raked again to pick up any hay littering the field. When all the hay had been safely gathered in, the rick would be raked down, with a garden rake to make sure water would run off and not get into the rick. It was always easy to get extra labour in the evenings. We had double summertime during the war, so it was possible to work up to midnight in the fields at harvest times. It was quite common for hay ricks to heat up, especially if the hay was a little bit green and some of them have caught fire (internal combustion). If we thought it was getting too hot, we would cut two or three chimneys in the rick, using the hay knife, making holes about three feet in diameter and sometimes six feet deep. This would allow the steam to come.

CORN HARVEST – the first thing to do, when the field of corn was ripe to cut, was that two men would have to mow around the field, tight to the hedge, using a scythe, wide enough for the self-binder to get around. One man would use the scythe and the other would pick up the mown com and tie it into bundles (sheaves) and place them in the hedge. The self-binder was about six feet wide for transporting but before cutting could start, the pole was taken off and fitted to the front of the binder, the big drive wheel was wound down, which lifted the binder and the transport wheels removed. Two horses were put, one on each side of the pole, with a yoke at the end, which was fastened to the neck collar on the horse. Two chains, for each horse, were hooked to the harness. It was the same procedure for the grass mower, corn drill and the heavy roller. The two chains went back to a whipentry attached to the pole. For the first round of cutting, a third horse would walk in front. with the chains hooked on to the pole, and somebody, usually me, would ride on the front horses. After the first round, the front horse pulled alongside the other two. After about six rounds had been cut, we would start standing up the sheaves, one in each hand, to form stooks (shocks) - we would put six sheaves of oats and barleys to a stook, but wheat was eight sheaves. The corn would remain in the fields anything up to two weeks to allow the grain to harden. You would need to check every day, to make sure that all the stooks were standing. When the sheaves were fit to bring in, you would go and throw the stooks on the ground to air the inside of the sheaves; then it would be loaded on to the cart and wagon. One man would pitch the sheaves, two at a time, making sure to put ears up first because the stubble end could cause damage to the man making the load, especially the face. When loaded, the load would be roped down, the same as hay. Then the man making the load, would lead the horse into the mohay, where it would be unloaded, using a pitchfork, and one man, making the rick, would stand in the middle and work outwards. This was to make sure that the sheaves were sloping downwards, so that rain would run off and not inwards. We had two Dutch barns and when they were full, we would have to make a rick. This was more difficult because there were no posts, as in the sheds, to go by. When the rick was about eight feet high, the sheaves were pulled in a bit, each row, to make a sloping roof, like a house.

THATCHING – when the rick had settled, it had to be thatched using the wheat reed from the previous year. Before thatching could start, we would go out to the hedges and cut mainly hazelnut sticks, about one-and-a-half-inch diameter, which we cut into four-foot lengths. These sticks would be split into four spars, using a small sharp hook and each end sharpened to a point; then twist the spar in the middle, to make a giant staple, two feet long. We used to make ropes from the same reed. We had a wooden rope turner fixed to a post – you would take a small handful of reed, fasten one end to the turner, then start turning so that the reed was twisted into a rope. You keep walking backwards, adding more handfuls of reed, until you had a rope as long as the rick. It would take about six ropes, each side of the rick. When enough spars and ropes had been made, thatching could start. Being righthanded, I would start thatching the right-hand end of the rick - place a ladder about three feet from the end of the tick; take an armful of reed and spread it about one inch thick, with the stubble end about six inches out, over the ricks; take your first rope and fasten it with a spar, put another spar, about two feet apart; step up the ladder and put on another layer of reed, overlapping by two feet; rope that down and continue up to the top; shift the ladder and thatch another layer, until you have thatched the whole rick.

ROOT CROP HARVEST – potatoes would be harvested first. We used the potato plough which one horse would pull down the middle of the ridges to reveal the spuds. We would pick them put them up, put them into a bucket and tip them into a bag. The bags would be put into a butt. When loaded, you would lead the horse to the farm where the spuds would be tipped in the potato houses which had no windows, because potatoes had to be kept in the dark to prevent them from going green.

Mangolds would be harvested in the autumn. One or two men would pull the mangolds, cut off the root and leaves and leave them in rows. They would be loaded by hand into the butt and, when full, it was taken into the farm and tipped in the mangold house. This was lined with bundles of straw to keep out the frost. They were fed to the stock during the first half of winter. Swedes were harvested after Christmas, bringing in a butt load when needed- The kale was cut by hand and loaded into the butt every day. It was tipped outside the hay house.

YARD WORK DURING WINTER & SPRING – all stock were housed during the winter, except sheep, who would lamb in the field unless the weather was too wet or frosty, when they would be brought into the barn. After the cows had been milked in the morning, they would be unchained and let into the yard where they could drink from the granite troughs. Meanwhile, the shippens were cleaned out - the dung was piled up outside the shippen doors - straw bedding would be put down and the cows let back in and tied up. They were given a feed of barley meal, whole mangolds and hay. All the young stock would be let out into the yard to drink, meanwhile clean straw bedding would be put down. These houses were cleaned out twice yearly and the heaps would stay there, while they heated and rotted down. All the young stock were given hay and mangolds in their mangers. When all the mangolds had been used, they would then have swedes and kale. The next job was to bring in hay, from the shed, which was done by hand, using a hay knife, about two feet long and six inches wide, with a rounded point. You would cut a four-foot square in the hayrick, then bring in enough to last all day using a pitchfork. The stock would be given more hay and mangolds after dinner and more hay al the end of the day - "tending up”.

Another important job was grinding the corn, with the mill in the barn. All the barley and wheat was to make meal, which was fed to all the animals, except horses, who ate raw oats The only cattle feed that was bought in was flake maize, which was delivered in one hundredweight hessian sacks and whole maize, delivered in two hundredweight sacks. We would carry the sacks of whole maize up the granary steps and tip them in one of the compartments, ready for grinding into meal, when needed. This was the only place which was rat proof!

When the dung heaps were full, the dung was loaded by hand into a butt using a prong. It was taken out to the field, where father had paced out the whole field and dropped a handful of sawdust where the heaps had to be put. If the field needed a heavy coat of dung, a butt load would be enough for two heaps. You would unload the first heap by prong and for the second, you would tip up the butt and the dung would fall out. If the field needed a lighter coat, a butt load would make three heaps. When the field was covered by heaps, they then had to be spread using the dung fork. The heaps of dung, from the young stock, would be spread in the autumn, by the same method.

AUTUMN WORK — as soon as the corn and root harvests were finished, it was time to trim the hedges which was done by a hand-held hook. Father was left-handed and I was right-handed, so we would start inside the gate and meet halfway round the field. Only the sides were trimmed. The tops of the hedges were allowed to grow, to provide fuel for the fires and oven. When the hedges had been trimmed. the trimmings were picked up by hand, loaded into the butt which was tipped in the middle of the field and burnt.

We later bought a McConnell Hedge Trimmer, the main frame of which bolted on to the tractor and supported a beam. Across, on one end, was a finger bar, with a reciprocating knife (the same as the grass mower and the self-binder for corn). On the other end was a Lister petrol engine, with a belt to the finger bar. Adjustment was done by handles and wire ropes. Again, the trimmings had to be picked up and burnt. Today, we have the flail hedge trimmer, which chops everything up.

Each year we would plough one grass field, called a lay field, but before it could be ploughed, all the wood on top would be cut downy using an axe and wooding hook. All the smaller wood was left and layered to make a stock-proof fence, and any small gaps were filled up with turf from the field using a hand-held shovel. All the small twigs were cut off and bundled into faggots. A rick of faggots was built outside the back door. A lot of gorse was also cut and bundled as it was very good for heating the oven. All the big sticks were loaded on to the cart and stored in the barn, sawn into lengths, and were needed for the open fire or grates. Any moats on the hedge would be cut off using a cross-cut saw. If the moats were too big to handle, you would drill a one-inch hole into the middle of it, put in a handful of rock pellets (gunpowder), insert a fuse, pack the hole solid with earth, light the fuse and stand back. The blast would split the moat into two or three pieces which would be used as back sticks in the open fireplace. We bought the "gunpowder" from Whitlock's of Holsworthy - they had an ironmongers shop in the square.

All the corn fields would be gone over with the heavy harrows or spiked cahain harrows to get the weed seed to sprout before ploughjng. Now was the time to spread the dung from the young bullocks’ houses and also to spread basic slag on all the grass fields. It was done by two men and the horse and butt, one silting on the back of the butt with a small fire pan, with which to spread, and the other driving the horse. The slag and lime came in one hundredweight paper bags, delivered by articulated lorry. It was stacked in the barn, on the fertiliser platform. Then came in a law that workers should not lift anything heavier than fifty-six pounds, and now fertiliser comes in one-ton bags and lifted by tractor and tipped into the hopper of the spreader. Lime and fertiliser, like slag, are delivered by articulated lorries and tipped either in the field or shed and loaded into the spreader by the tractor.

Another important job in the Autumn was to clear any blocked drains, which was done by hand and it meant digging down to find the pipe below where the water was rising. Some of the drains would be three or four feet deep. You had to dig up to where the water was rising until you found the problem - it could be a cracked pipe, or roots blocking it. Sometimes a bog would be formed - I remember one such bog in Moor Field, quite near Ham Lane where we cleared the blockage but then had to shovel out all the soft mud, forming the bog, before we found solid ground all around. Then the pit was filled with faggots of wood, which were trod firmly down, and the mud was replaced, and it would gradually dry out and the ground became solid again.

LIVESTOCK — about twenty cows, mostly Devons and one or two Devon bulls, and Father would go to Exeter Autumn Sale every year and buy a fresh bull. Neighbouring farmers from the two Forda’s, South Worden, West Libbear and Dipper Mill would walk their cows to North Worden Farm to have their cows served. There was a flock of Devon long-wool sheep which had to be shorn each year using hand shears, and sows and litters, mainly large whites, plus hens, ducks and geese.

HORSES - four cart horses, two being mares for breeding. To get the mares in foal, a chap used to walk his stallion around, from farm to farm. When the foals were old enough, we had to break them in, which was quite exciting at times. First, we had to get a rope halter on its head, then walk it around for a time; next was to get on a head collar, with a bit in the colt’s mouth which could take some weeks; then it would be neck collar and harness, followed by the breeching or saddle and harness. Now the fun would start! I remember the first thing the colt had to pull was a chain harrows guided by long reins. When he heard the chains rattling, he would take off at a gallop, with whoever was in charge, hanging on for dear life to the long reins. After a few weeks of schooling, the colt would be ready to go between the shafts of the butt. When all the chains had been fastened to the hames for pulling and to the harness for reversing, it would take at least two people to get the colt settled in the butt, ready for the off. The driver would stand in the butt, with the tailboard removed, for easy exit if needed and off they would go, galloping around the field, with the driver hanging on to the reins. The next thing was to get the colt used to working in a team. It was hard work but very exciting and very rewarding to see the colt. fully schooled and ready for all the varied farm work.

It was absolutely essential that horses were looked after to the best of our ability. All the harness had to be a perfect fit, especially the neck collar, which were made to fit the horse. Once it was right, it would only be used on that horse. The head collar could be adjusted with buckles and straps as was the breeching. After a day's work in the field, you would bring the horses into the stable, take all the harness off and hang it on the wall, directly behind the horse. You would put on night halter of rope and webbing and tie it to the horse's manger. If you had been ploughing or any other dirty work and the horse's legs were muddy, you would take it into the yard, get a bucket of water and a brush to wash all the mud off, before it had a chance to dry in. The horse was given a drink and taken back to the stable, tied up and then had its coat brushed to remove dust. The shoulders and back were checked for any rub marks and the feet checked for any missing or loose shoes. If any of the shoes were loose or missing, it would mean taking the horse to the blacksmith the next morning. The horses would be given a feed of oat chaff, pulped mangolds, raw oats and a feed of hay last thing at night. In the morning, the stable would be cleaned out and fresh straw bedding put down.

MARKETS - if there was any stock to be sold, there was a market at Sheepwash and farmers would walk their cows, calves and young stock on the road, and it would take three or four people to herd them there. Depending on bought your young stock, you may have to take them home again for a week, sometimes two weeks, and then walk them to Hole station and put them on the train. After that, it was the buyer's responsibility. Mr Cook was the main dealer and there was also a market at Stibb Cross, but I can’t remember selling stock there. Holsworthy was a bigger market and the stock were transported by lorry - Mr Harding had a haulage business in Shebbear and Bill Newcombe drove the lorry.

Cattle Markets 1945

THRESHING DAYS — Mr Archie and Mr Gus Headdon travelled around from farm to farm with their steam engine and thresher, and they liked to shift to the next farm as soon as they had finished where they were, getting the thresher levelled and ready for the start next morning. One of the men would get to the farm by 6am, get the fire in the boiler going, oil up the thresher, then go into the farmhouse and have breakfast and be ready to start threshing by 8am. One of the Headdon brothers would feed the sheaves into the thresher, one man would cut the cords on the sheaves "cutting beans" and hand the sheaves to Mr Headdon, ears first. There were one or two pitching sheaves from the rick, on to the thresher, again ears first. Two men would be bagging the com and carrying it to the granary. The thrashed corn was stored in six compartments in the granary as this was the only place which was rat proof. Two men would look after the trusses of straw and make the trusses into a rick and the next day, these trusses would be taken by horse and cart into the yard and put into the lofts over the shippen and young bullocks’ houses.

Threshing days were very hard work for the women. Mrs Bright, the workman's wife, would help Mother and the maid. They would get breakfast for Mr Headdon and us. They would light the oven and get it hot enough to cook in; at 10,30am, they would bring out a cup of tea and some yeast cake and splits and butter; lunch would be prompt at 1pm, when all the men would come in and sit down to roast dinner, generally pork or poultry, with home-grown veg and suet pudding. In those days, there were no stainless-steel knives it was all bone handles. Halfway through the first course, Mr Bert Ham broke his knife and as he held up the handle, he said "Missus, I've broken me knife". Of course, everybody laughed, and Mother got him a fresh one! For afters, it would be apple tart and cream. At 4.30pm, the women would bring out tea and a yeast bun. That would see everybody catered for, for the day and to signal these refreshment breaks, Mr Headdon would give a large blast on the engine's whistle.

SOCIAL LIFE

Chapel - on Sundays, it was Chapel Service at 11arn, Sunday School between 2-3pm and Chapel Service at 6.30pm. Later, Sunday School was held at 11am while the morning service was on. We used to meet during the week, called the Guild, with a different format each week - quizzes, discussions, games and table tennis. Sometimes we would put on an entertainment and occasionally, we would stage a play, The one I remember best was "The Farmer's Wife", which we put on every night for a week in the schoolroom. Many chapels would put on social evenings which we would try to support. The highlights were Sunday School anniversaries and harvest festivals. After the service had finished, all the young people would go out into a nearby field and play games ("Twos & Threes" etc.).

A big event was the Sunday School outing which was generally to Bude or Woolacombe. There was always a big cheer in the bus when we reached the road running into Stratton and where we caught the first glimpse of the sea.

Chapels in the Shebbear Circuit in the 1930's

There used to be sixteen chapels, in the Shebbear Circuit - Lake Shebbear & graveyard; Bradford & graveyard (now closed & sold); Cookbury (now closed & sold, private house); Black Torrington & graveyard; Sheepwash; Rowden & graveyard (now closed & sold); Peters Marland (now closed & sold); Siloam & graveyard (now closed & sold); Stibb Cross (now closed & sold); Thornhillhead & graveyard; Milton Damerel & graveyard; Bulkworthy & graveyard (now closed); Putford (now closed); Sutcombe (now closed); Tythecott (now closed); Chapel at New Inn Cross - Holsworthy Circuit (now closed and sold); Baptist Chapel at Caute, Shebbear (now closed & sold); Stibb Cross manse (closed & sold); The Shebbear Circuit is no more - it has amalgamated with Torrington Circuit and Bideford Circuits to form the Torridge Methodist Circuit.

There was a manse at Shebbear, where the Minister lived and one at Stibb Cross, where the second Minister or pastor lived.

Sports & Pastimes - I never played much sport as I had to help on the farm during half days and weekends but my main interests were cycling and running, We would cycle to Bude, Holsworthy and Bideford to go to the pictures - there was a picture house at the top of Bude, now closed and turned into a supermarket. The cinema at Holsworthy is closed and used as a theatre, where the local theatre company put on shows and pantomimes. Bideford had two cinemas, the one by Strand Bowling Green was closed in the 1990's and is now a block of flats for old people. The other Bideford cinema was in Bridgeland Street also closed and became a furniture shop, and is now a Wetherspoons public house. Running was my main hobby, as most villages would hold a sports day, and I used to run in the one hundred yards and one mile. Shebbear sports were held in the field opposite Ashleigh House. I remember running in Bideford sports field, now the football field, in the race "Devil take the hindmost" where the last runner to pass the finishing post at the end of each lap had to drop out. There was no television, so each parish and village organised their own entertainment. There was always a good atmosphere at these village events, which seems to be missing today.

Maurice's running shoes

Funerals - these were big social events„ When someone died, the family would send a mourning card to all relatives, friends and all the parish. The card had a wide black edge and on it would be printed the name of deceased, date, age, and place of burial service and the time. At the bottom of the card was printed, "Carried by hand", leaving the house at …, depending on the distance the coffin had to be carried, to be sure of arriving at the chapel or church, on time. All the men would meet at the house of the deceased and form two lines. The undertaker would walk in front dropping out six men, every one or two hundred yards, depending whether it was flat or hilly road. The family would walk behind the coffin, with most of the ladies wearing long black dresses and a black hat, the men in dark suits and a bowler hat. On reaching the chapel, the appointed bearers would carry the coffin.

Funeral report for Mr John Adams, 1934

Christmas - was always a lovely time. Most evenings we would sit in the kitchen, by the open fire, throw chestnuts into the coals and wait for them to be blown out again, so we could eat them! There was no danger of fire as the kitchen floor was cement. Christmas Day was spent at either North Worden or Dipper, when all the family would come - we would be about fifteen. After dinner we would play games, then the old people would go home and do the milking and then come back for another feed in the evening. This would be followed by games such as rings, table skittles bagatelle. charades and cards.

There was a local tramp called Sid Beckley who would travel around the district. If he came in the morning, he would work for a couple of hours and get a good dinner, then move on. If he came in the afternoon, he would do a bit of work and have supper, and was allowed to sleep in the hay house. There were two other tramps who did the rounds but they were not so regular. One evening, before Christmas, Father had gone out to give the cattle their last feed of hay. There was a knock on the back door, the maid answered the door and there was a tramp - he said, "Ayvning missus, I seed maister outside, he told me to knack on the door, an missus will give eee a bit of pasty and cup of tay". He came in and gobbled up his pasty and tea and then he left. He said, "Thank eee missus bless eee and have a happy Christmas". Mother and the maid had no idea who he was, Later, Father came in from tending up and said “did the tramp come in for a bit of supper?” “Yes, who was he?” said the women. “You should have known him, he has been here before,” said Father. With that, Father burst into laughter and said, “fancy not knowing your own husband!”

I used to hang up my sock on Christmas Eve, leaving some home-made ginger wine and a biscuit for Father Christmas. In the morning, it was all excitement to see what was in my sock - it was most often an apple and orange, assorted nuts, marbles, a packet of tiddly winks and sometimes a toy car or a yo-yo. Christmas presents were generally clothes, humming top and a jigsaw or a book of things to do and draw. Our favourite games were ludo, snakes & ladders, tiddly winks, marbles and draughts. The most lasting of all the presents was Meccano which was robust and could be added to, and which would last for years, We got a lot of enjoyment from building different things. I am afraid that toys today are not made to last - as soon as one toy is opened, it is discarded, and the next present is opened. Whether this is good for the children is debatable. I know one thing, we seemed far more contented with one present that would last, than the youngsters are today. Or am I just old-fashioned?

Who lived where in the 1930s:

North Worden - Mother & Father & me; South Worden - Uncle William & Auntie May, Renee & Ken; Worden Bungalow - Granda & Gran Adams, John & Eizabeth Paige; West Libbear - Mr & Mrs Short, Auntie May's parents; Libbear - Mr & Mrs Ley, Margery, Rupert & Cynthia; Dipper Farm - Uncle Sam & Aunt Mary Quance & Jack; Dipper Mill - Allacott - Mr & Mrs Fred Palmer, Ivy, Beryl & Jean. Fred worked for Studley Griffin; Little South Hay — Mr & Mrs Hearn & Freda; Highworthy - Mr & Mrs Gus Headdon & Avis (threshing contractors); Highworthy - Mr & Mrs Keast (postman); Aish - Mr & Mrs Alfred Griffin & Cyril; Highfield - Mr Griffin; Panchards - Mr & Mrs Harding (haulage contractor & coalman); Folly - Mr William Batten (carpenter & wheelwright); Hill Farm - Mr George Walter & Miss Annie Squance (housekeeper); Stonepark - Mr & Mrs Charles Dart, John & Rodney; Holroyd - Mr & Mrs Sam Luxton & Vivienne; Holroyd Cottage - Miss Lena Blight & daughter; Eastfield - Mr & Mrs Bill Ford (thatcher); Bungalow opposite Eastfield - Mr & Mrs Fishleigh & Ruby; Backway - Mr & Mrs Haines; Coombe Bidge - Mr & Mrs Wivell (he serviced our Tangye oil engine); Rigsby Ishay - Mr & Mrs Jim Curtis; Hay House - Mr & Mrs Daniel; Battledown - Mr & Mrs Perkins; Battledown - Mr & Mrs Moast; Ashleigh - Mr & Mrs Studley Griffin (owned Allacott Farm); Aish Cottage - Mr & Mrs Alfred Hearn & Agnes; Belle View - Mr & Mrs Cobbledick; Splatt - Mr Berts Mr Sam, Miss Mildred Ham, Miss Brock; Higher Forda - Mr & Mrs Blight & Phyllis; Lower Forda - Mr & Mrs Jack Mitchell; Worden Cottage - Mr & Mrs Alfred Blight (worked for father); Shortlands - Mrs Parish & Cedric; Libbear - Mr Bean; Wootton - Mr & Mrs Jim Quance, Austin & Joyce; West Wooton - Mr & Mrs Metherell, Doreen & Ronald; Anzac - Mr & Mrs W Heard; Walters Moor - Mr & Mrs George Mill & family; Pennicknold - Mr & Mrs George Bridgman, Denys & Owen; Waite - Mr & Mrs Bamie Bridgman, Doreen & Audrey; Caute - Mr & Mrs A Vanstone, Bernard, Raymond & Frank; Vaddicott - Mr & Mrs Percy Bridgman & Amos; Ladford Mill - Archie Vanstone; Ladford - Mr & Mrs Chamberlain & Ken; South Combe - Mr & Mrs William Ward, Ivan, Desmond & Christine; Durpley - Mr & Mrs Ley & family; Badworthy Farm - Mr & Mrs Balsdon, Sybil & Howard; Galmington - Alderman John & Mrs Squance, Marjorie & Jack; Galmington - Mr & Mrs Fred Arnold; East Pennicknold - Mr & Mrs Bridgman & Peter; Dumping Hill - Mr & Mrs Bob Mill & Mary; Enford Cottage - Mr & Mrs Stan Hearn & Oswald; Enford Cottage - Mr & Mrs George Metters; Police House - PC Stuart & Mrs Stuart; End of Police House - Mr & Mrs Bill Newcombe; Endford — Mr & Mrs Wentworth Lock, Norman, Allan and Eric.

1939 Register

When I was eleven years old, on March 21st 1938, I started school at Shebbear College. We had to wear school uniform — grey suits and either the college or house tie (Ruddle House) and the college cap, We were taught to doff our caps, if we met any old people, while walking on the road I used to cycle there.

By the end of 1938, war was imminent. The first thing that happened was that we were all fitted gas masks and when war broke out, in 1939, we had to carry our gas masks in cardboard boxes wherever we went. There was total blackout - all windows had to have thick curtains or something to keep in the light. Cars were fitted with masks so that their lights could not be seen from the air. It was very difficult driving at night. All the signposts were taken down so that if "Jerry" landed he wouldn't know where he was! In May 1940, Hitler advanced west and two coachloads of children, from London, arrived in Shebbear. All people who were able to take an evacuee went to the school and picked one out to look after for the duration of the war and we had a boy called Alan Swift. Lake Sunday School was hired and all the evacuees were taught there, by their own teachers.

Western Times 26 July 1940 - evacuees

My Grandma Adams was living in Worden Bungalow and she decided to come and live in the farmhouse with us and Father rented the bungalow privately to Mrs Steele and her two daughters. The oldest daughter was called Jean - she was a couple of years younger than me and we became quite friendly, I suppose it was a school romance and my philosophy was why travel miles when there is a nice girl at the end of the lane! It started off with three in the bungalow, but soon Mrs Steele's sister, Aunt Daisy and two children arrived. Then five more family connections arrived, making eleven! Father didn't know where they all slept but reckoned when the first five were asleep, they would be stood against the wall, then the rest could go to bed!

Another thing that happened in Shebbear was that the amy set up a searchlight in the field near the bottom of New Inn hill. Their billets were at the bottom of the hill and the generator was situated at Highworthy where Mr Gus Headdon had a petrol pump. We were all issued with ration books and everybody was allowed so much butter, sugar and bread per week. The only thing on the farm we were short of was sugar as we were self-sufficient in most things. I remember Father sent to somewhere in Ireland to buy sugar for his hives of bees. Petrol was also rationed - you could get coupons for business, essential travel and attending chapel services. Visiting friends, you would put some bags of potatoes in the car boot and if you were stopped by the police, you could say you were delivering potatoes! Living in the countryside, the war didn't affect us a lot. Instead of the odd bi-plane flying around, we soon got used to seeing the Spitfire and Hurricane single-engine fighters, then the Wellington bombers, We didn't have any bombs dropped near us but one landed at Stibb Cross on a field. There were other bombs dropped over the area but these appeared to be Germans ditching the bombs they had left after a raid.

Of course, school life continued the same. I gave up learning to play the piano and started having lessons on the pipe organ at Lake Chapel - Mr Jenkins, from Holsworthy was my tutor. He would come out, once a week, to give me a lesson and Mother would walk up to Lake to pump the organ during my lesson. She would also come up when I practised. I remember walking home from practice one night and we had reached Aish Cottage, when we met an American convoy who were out on exercise and it was the first time that I had seen a black man. Shebbear had a number of men who joined the Home Guard, I never did but my job was to cycle around to Dipper, Libbear, Backway and New Inn to call them out for night exercises. There was a Home Guard hut at Battledown. The war ended in 1945, but rationing continued for a long time and farmers had to produce as much food as possible .

CHANGES IN FARMING, DURING and AFTER THE WAR

The war certainly changed farming. Father bought a Fordson tractor on spade lugs. It was started by handle, using petrol to start it and then turn over to TVO (tractor vapouring oil). The tractor had a pulley so it was used to work all the barn machinery and the old Tangye oil engine was retired. There were also wood pieces to bolt on the back wheels, between the rows of spade lugs, to enable the tractor to go on the road. We used them for field work, except ploughing. We also had a two furrow trailed plough, as we had to grow as much food as possible. We were told where to grow certain crops.

We tilled a lot more potatoes and when it came to digging them, we hired a potato digger and a gang of boys from Shebbear College would pick them and put them in bags. They were then loaded into the butt and taken into the farm and tipped in the "tiddy" house - it had no windows to keep the spuds from going green - the house would be full to the ceiling. During the winter, they would be picked over and the big ones bagged into one hundredweight lots and sold to Thomas Oke's of Holsworthy. The small ones were fed to the pigs.

Having a tractor to do the ploughing, the other tilling implements were adapted to go behind it. We were able to hitch the heavy harrows behind the roller which made tilling much easier and quicker. To make hay harvest easier, we bought a side rake to row up the hay and a hay loader, which was pulled along, hitched to the trailer, straddling the row and it would paddle the hay up and drop it into the trailer. The hay was unloaded in the shed by the elevator. Soon Father got rid of the Fordson and bought a Fordson Major on tyres, with a PTO (Power take-off) and hydraulics. Having a PTO, we bought a rotary mower and a little later a Jones baler where the bales were loaded by hand on to the trailer and then stacked in the shed. Today there is the round baler where silage is also put into round bales and then wrapped with black plastic, to keep the air and rain out, and stacked in the open air. The latest is the long oblong baler. Now all the bales have to be loaded by a tractor, with a front end loader, and stacked by the tractor. We hitched the binder behind the tractor to cut the corn and soon the combine harvester was invented. The first one our contractor had was like a thresher on top of a binder - it would cut the corn and thresh it, but two men had to ride on the combine as the corn was caught in bags. When a bag was full, the top would be tied tight with string and let slide down a shute on to the field - they were then stood up and left in the field for the corn to fully ripen. The straw was baled. Not long after, a new combine came on the market which had a big tank to hold the corn and when it was full, it was augered into a trailer and taken into the farm and tipped out in the barn. Later big silos were built in which to store the corn.

We still had no mains water, so father bought a Lister engine and pump. A pump house was built down by the stream in Well Park. The stream was dammed and a pipe was laid up to a big tank, which was situated in the corner of the bedroom, at the west end of the front of the house. Now we had plenty of water. The rest of the bedroom was turned into an airing cupboard and bathroom. We had to have something to heat the water, so a log burning Rayburn stove was installed in the kitchen, which did all the cooking and heated the water. Later the Rayburn was converted to oil. Mr Russell Luxton (plumber), from Holsworthy, did the plumbing. We still used the pump and well water for drinking. So, for the first time, we had hot and cold water on tap, a real luxury! We also built a little outside toilet, in the garden, which flushed!

We had no mains electricity, so father bought a Lister start-o-matic engine and generator, which ran on diesel oil. Of course, all the house and outbuildings had to be wired for lights and power. As milk production was increasing, we installed an air pipe the length of the shippen, with taps in it. We had three milk buckets and an electric air pump in the dairy. You would put a rubber hose on the tap and turn it on, which would work the pulsator on the bucket, and you would put the four teat cups on the cow's udder. When all the milk had been extracted it was strained into a ten-gallon churn. When full, a cooler was put in the churn and cold water forced through the paddle to cool the milk. By this time, the Milk Marketing Board had been formed and they bought everyone's milk, and ours went to Torridge Vale Dairies at Torrington. We had to put a label on each churn with our name and address on it and then take it to the end of the Back Lane, and put it on a stand by 8am. Every farmer was increasing their output of milk. Our herd was increasing – we were buying all Friesians, so our set up had to change completely and we installed a four by four, herring-bone parlour. The shippen, bulls' house and hay house were turned into the parlour and collecting yard and the old calving house on the end, where the generator used to be, was turned into the dairy which housed the refrigerated milk tank, hot water boiler and milk pump. We had mains water and electricity by the 1960's. As we had done away with the shippen we had to build more sheds and install cubicles for the cows to sleep.

Then there was the problem of slurry. We dug out a pit and blocked it up with cement blocks, into which the slurry was pushed, using a scraper on the back of the Ford Dexta. When the pit was full, it was pumped into a huge round slurry store and when that was nearly full, you would open a shutter at the base of the store to let the slurry into the pit and then keep pumping it back again, before it was sufficiently mixed, ready to be spread on the fields. This was done by a vacuum filling tanker. When in the field, the vacuum pump would be reversed and this would force the slurry out at the back of the tanker

Milking parlours have improved since the herring-bone. There is a rotary parlour and now the fully-automated parlours - robots wash the cows' udders, put the clusters on the teats and disinfect the teats after milking. No human is needed! Because we had used the hay shed for cubicles, we did not make so much hay and silage was becoming the preferred feed. So, we laid a large concrete pad on which to make the silage clamp. The first year that we made silage, we brought it in on a buck rake which was wide enough to pick up two rows of grass; then somebody would spread it and build the clamp. This method took too long, and we bought a silage harvester which would pick up the mown grass and blow it into a trailer, hitched behind the harvester. When it was full, it would be unhitched and taken into the clamp, by another tractor, tipped, and the man with the buck rake would spread it about and build the clamp. While this was being done, the tractor and harvester were filling another trailer. The next harvester, made, picked up the grass, chopped it and blew it into a trailer being pulled alongside, so there was no unhitching or hitching up again.

We started growing maize, which grew to six to seven feet high and it was harvested by a contractor. The harvester would cut three or four rows, chop it and blow it into a trailer. It would then be clamped, as the grass silage. One drawback was that it was late ripening and not fit to harvest before the end of October. Now there are earlier ripening varieties, harvested when the ground is drier.

In the 1970's/1980's milk production was bigger than was needed. They called it a "butter mountain" and "milk lake", so the government brought in quotas and the smaller producers went out of milk production and the bigger producers got bigger!

POST-WAR YEARS

The war ended in 1945, but rationing continued for a very long time, and social life continued. with the Young Farmers’ Club restarting. Mr Studley Griffin was the leader and later on Jack Quance took on the leadership.

The winter of 1947 was very snowy. The roads running north to south were filled to the tops of the hedges and you could walk from Bungalow Field, straight across to the bungalow opposite, on top of the snow. We also had freezing rain which brought down all the telephone wires. Back then, every house that had a phone, two copper wires would be on the posts from the exchange in the village to their house. Bradford was on the Shebbear exchange, so at least twenty pairs were on the posts, passing Worden Lane. If the phone went dead, it was most likely a broken wire and Father would walk the line. When he found the break, he would join the two ends with another piece of wire, then ring the telephone company and tell them where the break was! After a few days, we cleared the snow off the by-roads so that the milk lorry could collect the milk but it took a long time to get the phones working again, because a lot of poles were broken under the weight of the ice on the wires. Today all the wires are inside one big cable.

North Devon Journal-Herald article dated 6 February 1947

In the Summer of 1947, I went for a drive one Sunday evening, with a friend. We drove down the A39 to Kilkhampton and decided to visit Tamar Lake (the old one). We never got that far, as we met several people walking home from chapel, and naturally, we stopped and spoke. One young lady looked all right! She stayed, talking to us, so we offered her a lift home and like a gentleman, I got out and jumped in the back! She sat in the front and we took her home to Darracott. On the way back home I noticed that she had dropped her gloves on the floor so said to my mate that I will take them back next Sunday. I arrived at Thurdon Chapel before the people came out and when Winnie came out, she spotted me and came over and I said that I was returning her gloves which you dropped in my friend's car last Sunday. I never asked her if she had dropped them deliberately! So began a friendship, which lasted sixty nine years. We had both found our true love! Winnie played the organ at Thurdon Chapel and was an active member in the monthly meetings at Bude Circuit youth weekends, She was also a member of Stratton Young Farmers' Club and we used to attend their social events - we went to modern and old-time dance classes and our main social activity was going dancing, especially when a big band was playing.

In 1948 a group of young farmers from Lancashire, visited the Torridge group and I entertained Jack Carr for the week. We did something different every day, culminating in a rally at Hartland YFC where various competitions were held — stock judging, sheep shearing, cooking and public speaking, All those who wanted to enter, were given a piece of paper with the subject of their speech written on it and were given five minutes to prepare a two minute speech. My subject was "Town girls do not make good farmer's wives"! I managed to win that competition. In the evening a dance was held in Hartland and Winnie caught a lift up. This was the first time that we had been seen together in this area and I introduced her to Jack Carr. After the dance, I took her home, with Jack sitting in the back of the car! In the autumn of that year twenty young farmers from the Torridge groups visited Lancashire YFC and we stayed with the person we had entertained. The Carr and Adams families remained great friends all our lives.

The Christmas of 1950, we got engaged and I plucked up courage and asked Father Lewis Heard if I could marry his daughter (he said yes) and we fixed the wedding for 26th April 1951. It wasn’t easy arranging anything, as there seemed to be a shortage of everything, and Winnie made her wedding dress and the four bridesmaids dresses, out of parachute silk. The wedding was at Kilkhampton Chapel and the reception was at Darracott Farmhouse, where several of Winnie's cousins were in charge of the food and drinks. 1951 was a very wet spring and I finished tilling on 25th April, then dashed down to Darracott, taking a case of clothes for the honeymoon! Back then the guests would try and get hold of the cases and do all sorts to the clothes, so what I took down was a dummy, We chained both our cases under a bed and padlocked them and I took Winnie's proper case back to Worden and put it with mine. The wedding went well, the bridesmaids were Rachel, Judith, Sheila and Margaret and the best man, cousin Jack, who drove me. While we were at the wedding Chriss Symons and others got at our cases. We had planned for Jack to take us to Cross Station to catch the train to Exeter, but realising that we were being chased, we decided to go to Worden, pick up our proper cases and then drive out by Worden back lane and Jack took us straight to the hotel near Exeter Central Station. Talking to Chriss Symons some time later, she said "When we opened Maurice's case, we couldn't understand him taking those clothes on honeymoon" Next morning we caught the train to Paddington and spent a week seeing some of the sights and then spent a week at Bournemouth. The number of red squirrels in the central gardens were amazing. We came home and took up residence in Worden bungalow. Back to no mains water and electricity but we soon put poles up the lane and brought electricity from the farm generator. We had the bungalow wired for lights and power and bought an electric pump, to pump water from the well to a big tank. We still used the hand pump for drinking water We built a Nissen hut in the garden and installed two hundred and forty battery cases for laying hens. I used to clean them out and Winnie would feed them, give them water, pick up the eggs, wash and pack them in boxes for Mr Jones of Sheepwash to collect, once a week. Those two hundred and forty hens provided us with enough money to live on, we didn't need to take anything out of the farm.

Winnie and Maurice

On 1st August 1952, Christine was born at home, I fetched the midwife from Black Torrington and waited anxiously in the kitchen and when the midwife came out, she said all has gone well. Some weeks later, Winnie went to the doctor for a check up and was told she had very bad blood pressure and would not be able to have any more children or it would be very risky. This was our first big disappointment as we both wanted more than one. Thankfully, we both had a strong Christian faith and believed in the power of prayer, which saw us through the disappointment and any other problems, during our life together. My favourite hymn is "What a Friend we have in Jesus" and my favourite bible story is St Mark 4 v 35-41, where Jesus calmed the sea.

At early age, in life, I realised that that worrying about anything did no good. My Mother was a real worrier, but Father was quite the opposite. Every so often, Mother would have a nervous breakdown and would go down to Bude and stay for a week with her cousin, leaving Father to look after me; we got on all right together. Two things he used to say to me, one was “lf you have a guinea, to pay a pound, you will be all right" The other was "Never buy anything before you can afford to pay for it."

Around two and a half years later, when Winnie went for a check up, the doctor told her that medical science had advanced and treatment for blood had improved. If we wanted to have another child, it would be okay. Brian was born on 21st May 1956 but it was not straightforward, as Winnie was in hospital for six weeks, prior to the birth. I visited her every evening. Of course, she was in Barnstaple Old Hospital in a huge ward, with about twelve to fifteen beds each side. Sometimes, when I went, she was in a different spot, and I asked her the reason and she said “If anyone died during the night, the beds were all shifted around, so nobody knew who it was.” After about a fortnight, Winnie and Brian were able to come home and we were a complete happy family and very proud. In 1950 Alfie Bright and his wife retired - they both worked for us with - Alfie, head horseman, and his wife worked in the kitchen. Rupert Ley, who also worked for us, bought a bigger farm, so we were without a workman. We knew Claude Bright of Black Torrington and his son Harold was looking for a job, so we took him on and he stayed with us until Brian left Bicton College.

Chriss and Brian

After the war, we seemed to have a lot of rabbits, in most fields and they were quite a pest as it is surprising how much grass they ate. We kept two ferrets to go ferreting and finding holes, we would put nets each side of the hedge, then put in a ferret and wait for a rabbit to bolt and get caught in the net, pick up and kill the rabbit, and move on to the next burrow. Once a year, we would have a professional trapper who would set gin traps all over the farm. In the evening, we would go around and take any rabbits out, kill them, put them in a bag, bring them in to the farm, gut them and hang them up, in pairs, on a long pole, He would do the round again next morning and after a couple of days would move to the next farm. I cannot remember which year myxomatosis affected the rabbit population, but it wiped out every one and it was several years before they came back. Mr Jones of Sheepwash bought all the rabbits, Of course, it is illegal to use gin traps and has been for several years.

Tradesmen who worked for us:

Whitlocks of Holsworthy, was the main Ford Dealer, who supplied and serviced our tractors for several years. Whitlocks also supplied Father with his cars. I cannot remember having ridden in a pony and trap because Father had a Bullnose Morris car. When I was seventeen, he changed cars and bought a Ford Prefect, on which Father taught me to drive. Being in the War l didn't have to take a driving test and haven't to the present day! I remember the first time I drove to Holsworthy, going up Dunsland Strait, reaching thirty miles per hour, boy, that was fast!

September 1932 advert

Mr Batten of Folly was our carpenter and wheelwright, and if we wanted a new wheel for the butt or cart, he would take the measurement and cut out all the wood. It was a very skilled job The hub of the wheel was about twelve inches long and nine inches in diameter and in the hub was inserted a metal lining which was slightly tapered and fitted the metal axle of the cart. There were six pieces of wood to form the wheel, into which would be dowelled two wooden spokes and the other end of the spokes dowelled into the hub, one on each side of the hub, to give the wheel stability. When ail the woodwork was complete it was time to put on the metal band, which was fractionally smaller than the wooden wheel. Two or three of us, would go up to Folly and help. Three of us were handed long-handled tongs to hold the metal band over the forge, moving it around, before it was nearly red hot. Then carry it over to a special platform, on which was the wooden wheel and carefully. drop it on the wooden wheel. Then it was quickly hammered down to fit and immediately buckets of water were thrown over the band to cool it, so it would shrink tightly on the woodwork. A few special nails would be driven into the wood, to keep the band in place. The wood could then be painted, usually red.

August 1944 article

Mr Stan Balsdon and his brother, Albert, were our builders. Their biggest job was when the front wall of the front part of Worden House started subsiding because the foundations were slipping into the cellar, under the front room. Half the wall, up to the front door. had to be taken down a new foundation put in and the wall rebuilt. Their other big job was to concrete the front lane and they also dug out and blocked up the new septic tank, as well as smaller pieces of masonry.

OTHER CHANGES

We always had a land-line telephone, then came the mobile telephone. Not many people had one as they were so heavy and clumsy and you had to pull out an ariel. Then I had a little mobile which allowed you to speak to the person and also send texts. Nowadays, mobiles can take photos and send them wherever you want, also texts.

Black and white television came in the 1950's. I know that Chriss and Brian would go up to Worden Bungalow to watch programmes. They wanted me to buy a TV, but I told them I would have one when colour was available which came quicker than I expected, so I had to buy one. Today television sets are much slimmer and you can get more channels.

Today, we have a lot of problems with roads — potholes and waterlogging. When I was a youngster, the council employed what they called a linesman who would look after the gutters and ditches of all the roads in the parish. The linesman for Shebbear was Stan Hearn. He would cycle, carrying his shovel and digger, and make sure that all ditches were kept clear. All the stones for road repairs were cracked by hand. One of the Mr Petts' was a stone cracker. There was a little lay-by, just up the road from Rowden Chapel and big quarry stones were tipped there and Mr Petts would crack them all up. When you passed there, he would be on his knees, cracking these stones and then he would put the cracked stones into a tidy heap.

Hand-tools have changed immensely. To drill a hole in wood, you used a brace and bit, or in metal, a hand-held drill, turned by hand. Now, with the electric drill, you can bore a hole in anything using the correct bits. For mixing concrete and cement, which was always done by hand, using a shovel, we have small portable concrete mixers. For cutting timber, the chainsaw has replaced the axe and cross-cut saw. Small electric saws, for cutting angles, have replaced the hand saw. Metal used to be cut with a hacksaw, now you use an electric angle grinder. For sanding timber, it used to be done by hand, now you use a small electric sander or belt sander.

In the kitchen, the changes have been mind boggling. In the 1930's, all cooking was prepared by hand. Washing clothes was done by hand. We did have a wringer to squeeze out the water and a mangle to press the dried sheets and towels. The iron was a box iron which had to have a lump of metal, heated in the open fire, before it was red hot and then inserted.

Aviation has altered tremendously. At the end of the war, we were used to seeing engine propelled planes. Then we had to get used to jets, which could travel faster than sound and we witnessed the first supersonic passenger plane - "Concorde". Now fighter planes are fitted with special equipment to be able to pinpoint a target quite accurately. Guided missiles can be fired from a ship and hit a precise target a long way off. We have the jumbo jet passenger plane. Also, helicopters which are used by the army for rapid deployment, for saving lives at sea or anywhere, and the Air Ambulance for getting patients to hospital quickly.

Medical science has altered a tremendous amount. TB or Consumption, as it was known, was a big killer, but today, very few cases are seen, On a personal note, I had a hernia operation in Bideford Hospital and I was kept in bed for two weeks before being able to get out. Several years later, I had another hernia operation on the other side but this time at Barnstaple and was home again in less than a week! In 1994, I had an operation for an enlarged prostate. That was a very invasive operation and very painful for weeks after. The surgeon came in the ward after, to say that the biopsy showed that there was no cancer, but they had damaged some nerves. Last year, I read in the paper, the procedure had improved and they could operate without damaging the nerves. There has been another improvement, a man can go in, have the treatment and come right home again. Although there have been many, many improvements in health, I think that the three big worries for young people are Obesity, Mental Health and Drugs.

Law & Order — When I was going to school, all the children were afraid of the policeman, and most parishes had their own constable who lived in the police house. Shebbear police house was up Back Lane; Mr Stuart was the policeman and his two sons attended Shebbear School. Although we were afraid of him, we all had great respect for him.

CONCLUSION

Looking back over the last ninety years, I am glad that I was born when I was. I have had a good life. It was hard work when I was a youngster, but it kept you fit and the food was wholesome. It is a comfort to me, to have such a good healthy family, who get on so well together. It has been a most enjoyable exercise, trying to remember the ups and downs of my life. One last thought about farming: in the 1930's and 40's, the work was all manual and horse power. Today, if you can't do it with a tractor, it isn't done!

POSTSCRIPT

In 2001, Maurice & Winnie Adams moved to Beach Road, Westward Ho! As well as continuing to play bowls both indoors (for Parkham) and outdoors for Bradworthy BC, which they had helped to form in 1985. Winnie died in 2016 but Maurice continues to play bowls and has taken up petanque and was good enough to play for Devon, at the age of 92. Since living at Westward Ho! he has taken daily rainfall figures.