Daft Laddies – Buryin deed sheep

Daft Laddies. Farming Tales of North Tyne and Rede 50 years on.


By Clive Dalton and Donald Clegg

An extract from the book - Daft Laddies. Farming Tales of North Tyne and Rede 50 years on (2003) By Clive Dalton & Donald Clegg. If you would like a copy, contact donaldclegg@btopenworld.com

Photo: Dally Castle Fell

One of the first jobs a Daft Laddie had to larn on a North Tyne or Redesdale farm was to become a skilled undertaker and bury the dead. Yowes in the lambing field seemed to have a fatalistic outlook on life. It was often said by cynical heords that if an aad yowe decided te dee, nowt wad stop hor, nee mattor huw many patent remedies ye put doon hor neck!

Buryin’ the deed could almost be a full-time job in a bad lambing, as the boss, who did the bulk of the lambing, or the specialist hired lambin’ man, didn’t have time for such morbid chores. And there were very good reasons of hygiene why they should not touch owt deed incase of disease spread, especially septicaemia.

During the 1953/54 winter on one North Tyne farm, no less than 26 deed sheep were recovered after the thow, sheltering ahint dyke backs. They were collected by the laddie (DC) and brought doon from the hill to the bottom field in the trailer where a massive grave 10 feet square and 6 feet deep had to be howked to fit them aall in.

When I (CD) started work at Redesmouth Farm as a Daft Laddie I soon learned that burying an aad yowe was not just a case of howkin’ a hole and hoyin’ hor in. Nowt the kind, it soon became clear from the hind and my mentor, Jock Armstrong, that the whole business was almost an art form.

First off you had to survey where the old bitch had deid, because this dictated how easy a howk it would be. If she had given up the ghost in a rocky corner or, warse still, on top of an uncharted staene cundy, then you had to face the unenviable chore of having to move her – usually by dragging her to some spot where you could get doon at least a couple of feet for a decent howk.

If there were a few bodies to bury, then it could be worth considerin’ yokin’ the caert or tractor and trailer, and making for the river side where it was always a nice sandy howk. But that was a last resort, and burying the owld bitches where they deid with minimal disturbance was the best option.

Now the reason for this lack of desire to move a deed yowe, was because you had to ploat her wool which was sold separately from the clipped wool. Nowt had to be wasted – even in death. And to get hor to ploat easily, she was best left a couple of days, by which time of course she was getting rather “high”. She was ready when her skin was a nice blue/green colour and the wool came oot with a weak tug. So, minimal shifting was the aim.

When first surveying the death site, if you thowt it would be a canny dig, you always started digging so the prevailing wind blew the stink away from you – never howk in the lee of a deed yowe I soon learned.

First the overall hole area was marked oot and then carefully cut into small turfs within it with the precision of a golf course green keeper. Now it was important to lay these sods bye very carefully, as they had to go back in the precise same order. As a good layer of top soil could come oot attached to the sods and had to be retained, they were laid doon nice and canny.

Then oot came the next layer of soil to be laid aside separately, and finally, when you got doon into the clay subsoil, this had to be hoyed oot and kept separate again. All these layers had to be returned in the order they came oot – a very important point for restoration of “the environment” I can now appreciate. It seemed a lot of extra work at the time!

Now came the question over depth of the hole. The Daft Laddie’s natural desire was to dig as little as possible, and just “hap” the owld bitch ower in a shallow grave. Ah but, what aboot a hungry fox? Ne guid mekin’ it easy for Reynard’s missus with a litter o’ hungry cubs, to howk hor up again. So it was doon another foot if you could get it. The recommended depth was always a “shank deep”, i.e. almost the full length of the spade. But even in canny gannin’, ye usually struck trouble lang afore that.

Then came the problem of getting the owld bitch inte’ the hole. One muckle heave would dee that – but, then you realised she now completely filled the hole and more, because of her blown-up belly. So nuw whaat te dee? The options were to either lift hor oot and dig the hole deeper, or borst hor belly te let the gas oot. Both a grand prospect just afore bait time!

After some pondering, you had to be attracted by the second option. So after making a few abortive incision attempts with the spade, it became obvious that it was a pocket knife job from up close. You soon learned to synchronise your breathing with your stabbing to avoid the aroma that seemed to follow the knife directly up to your nostrils. So the drill was to keep your heed oot o’ the way when dein’ the stabbin’.

Once in the grave and every layer of returned soil nicely possed doon with your heels on top o’ hor, then came the job of laying the sods back in precisely the order they were removed. Follow that with a good bat doon with the spade and your heels, especially aroond the edges - not ower hard mind, as ye didn’t want to brek the spade shank . The boss wasn’t made o’ money remember!

Job done - then on to the next bereavement, trailing your bag o’ pulled woo’ and remembering not to put it over your showldor, especially if it was late in the day and near lowse. Aye! and remember not to cut that apple in your bait box with your pocket knife – or if you dee, offer the forst piece to the hind for showin ye huw te de the job right. And divvn’t use yor fingers to whistle the derg!

Daft Laddies: Farming from the road

Northumberland, farming, husbandry, history, humour, dialect, Daft Laddies, 1950s

By Dr Clive Dalton

Photo: The road up North Tyne from the top of the Bower rig, Lanehead 1954. After the climb, the engine on Norman's bus could cool off going down into the valley, and passengers could record every farming detail to report on their arrival.

One of the big disadvantages of being a Daft Laddie on an inbye farm up the Tyne or Rede valley in the 1950s was that inevitably your antics and sartainly your predicaments would be on public view from the road and especially the railway. Ootbye folk had nen of these hazards to face daily

Cars were not a great problem as there were not many, and it was mainly the more wealthy folk "oot viewin" at weekends. Farmers were just starting to get cars, and many were so concerned with steering that they only had time for the odd glance ower the fence.

It was the bus and the train that were the menace, as here folk could apply a hundred percent concentration oot the window, and the advantage of height and almost a periscopic view of what was ganin on in the valley fields.

Their ability to assess what they saw in minute detail, analyse it, and then have the headlines prepared for their report would challenge any of today's news services. It was a mobile news service like the Internet that didn't need a computer.

It was also a regular surveillance, as up the Tyne there was the forst trains up and doon between 7-8am, then the mid-day train went doon at 11am and came up again at 1pm, then the evening trains went up and doon at 6-7pm. Then Norman Fox drove his bus up and doon the valley from Bellingham to Kielder about four times a day, and then there was the bus service from Bellingham to Hexham about four times a day as well, the forst bus at 7.30am and the last bus into Bellingham about 6.30pm. A modern satellite in the sky could not have covered more farming territory much more!

Here the famous Bellingham photographer WP Collier has caught the train passing Tarset Hall farm. It was a wonderful mobile viewing platform to see what was going on up the valley.

Up the Rede there were buses from Newcastle to Otterburn and return, and they covered a very big visual territory. As the Rede valley was the main central route into Scotland over Carter Bar, there was massive opportunities to see all the farms up the valley, and even to hear from folk what things were like on "the Scotch side".

Here are some examples of conversation topics for after your arrival or your return home. It was interesting that folk providing news and comments were never thought of as gossips – they were admired for being so "up to date". The trigger to get them going was this very simple question – "Aye, Owt fresh"?

The start or lack of start of events

• Aye, Aa see thiv started the hay at The Park.
• Aye, Aa see they've gitten hay doon at The Park.
• Aa see they've cut nowt at The Park yit. Whaats rang wi the lazy buggas?
• Man, Aa see they've got aall the hay doon at – they'll luk gay daft if it rains.
• Aa see thors nee corn led at The Park yit.
• Aa see the Leicester tup's oot at The Park – far ower orly.
• Aa see they've still got the tups oot at The Park – they'll still be lambin in haytime.
• Aa see they hevn't starteed singlin tornups at The Park yit, thor damnd near meetin in the drills.
• Aa see they're pluwin the haughs at The Park – it's far ower wet.

The finish or lack of finish of events (There was little conversational mileage in commenting on positive things that had been competed as this would appear too complimentary and would kill the "crack" gay smartly. Far better crack could be generated from negatives. So the trick was if you started with a positive, for goodness sake murder it with a negative to get some impact.)

• The Park's finished thor hay Aa see – they must hev been gay light crops.
• Man, Aa see thor still fartin aboot tryin te git hay at The Park – it'll be good for nowt but beddin.
• Aa see aall the corn's in at The Park – but it'll be aall straa after that bad week.
• Aa ses thiv finished singling turnips at The Park but yi cannot ses them for Fat Hen.

Anybody spending money

• Aa see they've gitten a tractor at The Park – must be made o' money.
• Man did ye see they've gittin a new tractor at The Park - must be made o' money.
• By man they've got a new raker at The Park - must be made o' money.
• Man did see they've gitten a muck spreader at the The Park - must be made o' money.
• Aa see they've gitten a motor car at The Park - must be made o' money.
• Did ye see the new car at The Park - must be made o' money.
• Aa heor tell they've gitten the phone it at The Park - must be made o' money.
• Aa see thiv gitten a greet big new shed at The Park- thor was nowt rang wi the owld caert shed was thor? Must be made o' money.
• God, ye cudn't see The Park's haughs the day for stour from the manure spreader – laying on that artifeeshal muck – it'll suck aall the gud oot o' the grund, and they'll nivor get the hay wun - must be made o' money.
• It'll be them yung uns wi thor daft college trainin that'll be wantin aall these new-fangled things and wastin money.
• They must be borrowin muney from the bank!

Not strite (Of all the afflictions that could befall a Daft Laddie – this was one of the worst)

• Did ye see the tornip drills at The Park – thor like a dog pissin on snaa.
• Did ye see the hind's pluwin at The Park – like a dog's hint leg.
• Aa see that new fence at The Park's like a Don Mason's banana – the posts are as rotten an aall.
• The new hind at The Park wants te git his eyes looked at if the tettie drills are owt te gan by.
• Pests, weeds and diseases Man, the turnips at The Park are just a bed of wickens.
• Man, the fat hen in the turnips at The Park is man high.
• Aa see the rabbits have eaten aall the turnips at The Park.
• Hev ye seen the mowdies in the hay fields at The Park.
• By heck Aam pleased Aam not hind at The Park – the corn's aall thistles man.
• By man the hay fields at The Park is nowt but yella rattle.

Crop yields and failures

• By them oats at The Park is just straa – nowt in thor heeds man.
• Man the corn's as flat as me hat at The Park – they'll nivor git it cut.
• Thor's nowt i' the barley at The Park but blowd rabbits – they willn't be worth threshin.
• The lads at the threshin at The Park said thor was nowt but weed seeds cumin oot the mill.

Stacks and threshing

• Aye the corn stacks at The Park have cowped. That's the new hind for you. Clivor bugga.
• Did ye see aall the props in the stacks at The Park? Aa see the threshors in at the The Park.
• An Aa see the gate post inte the stackyard's brokken off.
• Aye, Aa see the threshor's smashed baeth gate posts at The Park.
• Aye, they must hev run oot o' hay at The Park afore the stack was topped oot.
• Them corn stacks at The Park 'ill piss thorsels afore lang – they worn't laid oot enuff at the easins.
• The stacks at The Park are het enuff te boil the tetties.

Livestock

• Hev ye seen the hoggs at The Park. Thor as lean as craas.
• Hev ye seen the stirks torned oot at The Park, ye can see thor muck through them.
• Did ye see the new Leicester tup at The Park – he's gye-necked, doon iv his pasterns and his balls are nee bigger than hazel nuts.
• That fancy Lanark tup they bowt at The Park is rang in the heed.
• That Daft Laddie at The Park needs his arse kicked for lathorin that horse.
• Aa saa the AI man at The Park the day when Aa was doon at Hexham. They must be on wi that daft business anaall.
• Hev ye seen the sucklers at The Park? The muck on them's keeping them tigithor.
• Divn't expect ony luck muney from owld Sep from The Park. He's as tight as a ducks arse.

Dykes and hedges

• Did ye see that greet muckle gap in the dyke at The Park.
• The Daft Laddie had driven the tractor through it when tornin on the heedrig. Clivor young bugga!
• Did ye see that lazy sod of a hind at The Park has only rickled that gap in the dyke up the haughs.
• Just ye watch, he'll not hev fettled it afore spring.
• If that new hind at The Park thinks he's a hedge layer – well I'm Kevin Keegan.

Social

• Social comment was very important for a Daft Laddie if he wanted to progress to the high honour of being hired as a hind. The following are some examples of areas that is was important to be knowledgable about.
• Aa saa the ambulance gan oot the day – Aa didn't think Peggy was due for anuther month.
• Did ye see the ambulance gan up the road this forenoon? Hevn't hord nowt we's bad.
• They say that new Daft Laddie at The Park's been te Korkley Haall. He needs his arse kicking – clivor yung bugga.
• Did ye see the new tenants are in at The Park. By lad, they'll hev te watch that dowter.
• Did ye hear that the sarvant lass hes left The Park. Aye well they divn't stop there lang.
• By lad hev ye seen the new hoosekeeper at The Park. She'll hev te watch horsel wi owld Hamish!
• Aa see Lizzie's back heme wi a fancy man from doon sooth. He's owld enuff te be hor fathor.
• Did ye hear that Bella's dowter's tean off eftor a bloke from doon sooth. Aall fancy tunge – Aa cudn't understant a woord he said.
• By lad that new lass in the Northern Farmers' office will hev te watch horsel wi that Daft Laddie at The Park. He's hings aboot the office a lot eftor he's got his trailer loaded up.

Calamities and predicaments

• This has got to be the area that gains you most Brownie points to reply to the "Owt fresh" question.
• Did ye see the Daft Laddie cowped the caert crossin the road at The Park?
• Did ye see the new hind's stacks at The Park have aall cowped?
• Did ye see the fancy new tractor in the drain up tiv hor belly at The Park - and the hind tryin te pull hor oot wi the horse?
• Did ye hear that Geordie's gone and crashed his new car. Went inte the drain trying te see ower the dyke alang The Park haughs lookin te see if the drills wor strite.