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George Spenceley recalls his memories of training to be a farmer in Yorkshire in the 1940's.
The time came for me to leave the hostel where I had been training and start work on my first farm. I had to travel to Northallerton where I was to be met by an agent for the British Boys for British Farms Scheme, a Mr. Pilcher. He welcomed me saying that he had arranged for me to go and work at Harley Castle.
Although I looked out for a castle on my journey I never saw one. Mr. Pilcher stopped the car at the farm, it was on the top of a hill with scenic views to the west looking over towards the Pennine hills.
We met the owner, Mr. Kirk and after exchanging greetings he took me into the kitchen and offered me a chair in the corner next to the Aga cooker. Before leaving Mr. Pilcher said that if I ever needed him in the future I could always get in touch again.
After a few brief words with Mr. Kirk he went on his way. Mrs. Kirk gave me my instruction on the do's and don'ts. She led the way through a small door in the corner of the kitchen, up the winding wooden staircase, to a room above the kitchen where there were two beds.
Pointing to one she said, 'That's yours' then went on to say 'you are only allowed in two rooms, one being your bedroom the other the kitchen, on no account must you go in any other room'. I sat on the edge of the bed wondering what I'd let myself in for.
The next morning, after I'd had my breakfast, Mr Kirk took me to a stone building overgrown with ivy. On entering I noticed it had an arched roof, it was the only part of the castle left standing. There were no windows and inside it was dark and eerie. There were five cows tied to the wall.
'This was once the dungeon of the castle' said Mr. Kirk. 'Have you ever milked a cow?' asked the old man. 'No sir' I replied, 'Well you'll soon learn' he said sitting down on a three-legged stool with placing a bucket between his legs.
'This is going to be your daily job. You have the five cows to milk on a regular basis. Any young heifers that calve I expect you to help with and also get the young stock ready for market'. He demonstrated to me how to draw milk from the cow's udder then offered me the bucket.
I'm sure that old cow knew that I was a novice because as soon as I sat down very tentatively beside her she became restless. Slowly I grasped hold of two teats, at that point she decided to move her back end sending me tumbling over backwards.
I lost my grip on the bucket between my knees and the contents spilt into the straw. Mr. Kirk turned away and I'm sure he was thinking these townies. 'Don't squeeze so hard' he said to me smiling and helped me to my feet. 'Try again'.
He told me to press my head into the cow's side and gently squeeze and pull, a few trickles of milk landed into the bucket. 'Good' he said and started to milk the other four cows that were waiting their turn, he'd finished all four before my poor attempt at one.
When the milking was finished the boss told me to clean out the byre and said that he'd be back shortly. When he returned he said, 'Come on son we have business to attend to, let's go and get the young bull'.
Now as most townies know a bull is supposed to be a very fierce animal and you can imagine what was going through my mind. I followed him keeping an eye on the nearest door in case I had to make a run for it.
We entered one of the sheds and there stood the bull. 'Pass me the halter' said Mr. Kirk. 'I'll show you how to put it on Ferdinand, don't be afraid he's a very quiet animal'.
He handed me the rope. 'You take the front end and I'll take the rear'. At that he took hold of its tail and we left the shed and set off down the lane, the bull seemed to be used to the walk and knew what was going to happen.
After about half a mile quietly walking we came to a field where a number of young heifers grazed, the farmer let the tail go and came to the head of the bull and said, 'Don't you let go, I will open the gate'.
It was then that the bull started to get restless, he started bellowing to the cows in the field and they started to run forward as if to greet him. By this time Mr. Kirk could see that I was really worried so he said, 'Don't let go of the rope or we'll never catch him'.
He took hold of the halter and led the young bull into the herd of cows, singling one out he offered the bull to her and after a few minutes the bull and heifer had let nature take its course. One happy bull, one happy heifer, one happy farmer and one very pleased young lad content in the knowledge that all bulls are not vicious.
George Spenceley, 2002
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