The not so good old days

Press, 25 February 1977, Page 16

The not so good old days

Last winter Mr F. R. Marshall, of Glandovey road, Christchurch, spent some of the long nights penning a few lines about his experiences working on farms in Canterbury back in the 19205. Subsequently he farmed for about 30 years in the Prebbleton district.

Even the passage of the vears and the mellowing effect that sometimes has on memories did not cause him to recall those times with particular pleasure, and he ended up by saying that he hoped that those who read his few words would join him in hoping that “the good old days never come back.” Mr Marshall was going back to the times when the

first tractors — very odd

— were appearing on the scene. “I suppose that very few present day farmers would have any personal experience of working conditions in the premechanisation era,” he wrote.

“As a lad of 15 years my father, who was a strong believer in the ‘idle hands’ dictum found me a job as a boy of all work at 15 bob (shillings) a week, which in today’s terminology would be .$1.50 a week, and found. The found part ranged from awful to passable as I was to find out over the next few years. “In those few years I was to range far and wide over the plains of Canterbury doing all kinds of farm work. There was no real incentive to stay long in one job,” he recalls. “One always thought that things might improve next time. “I will attempt to describe conditions on the average farm in Canterbury at that time — conditions which would cause the present union secretary’s blood pressure to rise to boiling point. “Picture a small wooden hut, about 10ft by Bft, the only furniture being a stretcher with sacks nailed across it. A sack of chaff emptied part into another one and sown at the middle served as the mattress, and to be quite fair it was quite warm and comfortable.

“The only articles of furniture would be an old chair or box to sit on and a few nails to hang clothes on. Lighting was provided by the stable lantern and for ablutions or personal

washing there was a cut down half kerosene tin, which was filled from the water race or pump.

“Of the many huts I occupied very few had a fireplace or heater. If one was cold one went to bed.

“The employer seemed quite indifferent to his employee’s bathing requirements. My memory is rather hazy now, but I rather think that an ’allover* bath was achieved only jn the summer in the water race or river. “It would be fair to say that a teamster’s horses were fed and groomed better than the teamster himself. So much for conditions. Perhaps we were brain washed, but no-one growled very much. “One might say that the hours of work were elastic. That is to say the boss stretched them out as far as he pleased, but woe betide the employee who knocked off a little early. “The six-harse teamster rose at 5.30 a.m., fed, groomed and harnessed his team, breakfasted at 7 and at 7.30 he would lead his team to the paddock ready to start by 8 a.m. By that time he had done two hours of work already. “Eight hours later he would be back in the stable unharnessing and feeding and after tea a conscientious man would have plenty to do until about 9 p.m. feeding, grooming and doctoring sore shoulders etc.

“How many hours does that make? Twelve at least, and multiplied by six days this works out at about 72 hours a week.

“Sunday was a day of rest, except for feeding the horses and cleaning out the stables. Most farmers those days were God-fearing men and regarded Sunday as sacred.

“Space does not permit me to describe the many facets of farm operations in the 19205. Suffice to say that practically everything was done by sheer sweat and toil. Routine work and maintenance now done, for instance, by front-end loaders and/or gorse cutters, involved many hours of toil with gorse knife and shovel, and I remember many hours spent on the road carting chaff, potatoes and grain, etc., by horse and dray.

“Another job guaranteed to develop the muscles was the yearly cutting of firewood, not with the present-

day chain saw, but with cross-cut two-man saws and splitting with wedges and maul. “A book could be written on farm life in the twenties, always depicting endless days of monotonous, hard physical toil, often in the most miserable conditions.

“For his hard life the farmer was often hardpressed to keep his head above water—typical prices being £2 10s ($5) per ton or tonne for chaff, £2 to £3 ($4 to $6) per ton for potatoes, and 5s (50c) per bushel for wheat. I suppose the farmer really could not afford to pay much. The top wages I ever got were 35s ($3.50) a week. Head ploughmen sometimes were worth £2 ($4). A small bonus was sometimes paid for harvest — perhaps £5 ($10) or £lO ($2O). “Compare these wages with what are offered now. What a life is offering for the lad with a liking for the land — regular hours, the best of machinery to work with and a far greater variety of work and projects than were ever dreamed of in my day. And as for saving money, even in these inflationary days a lad with an eye to the future should be able to save a great proportion of his salary. Remember he; does not have to pay rent or food bills. It almost makes me wish I were 16 again. “I have memories of‘ many incidents, both trag ; c and humorous. I can re-1 member ploughing with aj six-horse team at Dun- • sandel when streaming ever: the fence nearby came a torrent of hounds plus a 1 cavalry charge of horses. It was the local hunt and naturally my six charges I also took off. However they 1 failed to take the fence at • the other end of the paddock. "On another farm in the: .Southbridge district, which! had probably one af the; first tractors, a Fordson. it ■ became my duty on m:>sti mornings to hitch mv team ■ to the reluctant monster | and drag it round until it| roared into life. 1 think its; driver did not wind it very long as having no impulse' starter it had a most vicious I kick back. “The same farm had J about 50 sows running at I large—it was that kind of| farm—and they had their litters in the strangest places. It was disconcert-

ing. to put it mildly, to have a gaggle of pigs of all sizes dash out of the gorse fence under the feet of the team.

“To digress a little. In the mid-twenties the well but perhaps not too fav-

ourably known Selwyn 1 bridge was built. There had i been quite a recession at I that time and this was one of the first public works; projects for some time. “It was notable for the; fact that it was almost en-| tirely a shovel and wheel- i barrow operation. I speak. from first hand experience | as I worked on it from I start to finish. The pay was quite good for those times —l2s or $1.20 per day. “A contract team made the piles which were driven by the only piece of ’ machinery on the site. The concrete piers were filled in this way. First a huge mixing board was placed in position from which emanated several cat walks leading to the riverbed, from which all the shingle was wheeled precariously to the board.

“Quite a few wheelbarrows used to leave the track. Then several yards of mixed concrete were shovelled head high until the pier was filled. That is why the bridge was rather narrow and took a long time to build.”