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Text Box: CARESCO

Sawtry Eye Feb—Mar 08

Text Box: Some of my friends were horses - Part 1 When I was a boy in the late 1940s to the early 1950s I attended school at Great Gidding. I, and my sister Brenda, went to work before going to school as money was very short at home and whatever we earned we gave to our Mum. Brenda milked the cows for Maggie King in Gt. Gidding and I biked a mile and a half to Gidding Grove farm which is halfway between Gt. Gidding and Whitwick. This farm belonged to Mr Bernard Bletsoe. For a start I used to exercise a big ginger coloured horse called Paddy. He was a hunter and was very tall. On arrival back at the farm I had to clean him, currycomb him etc. He was a kind horse and did me no harm but as I was very small he was boss of me. During harvest time we got time off school and I had the job of leading the horses who were pulling the loaded carts back to the stack yard to be unloaded. Once I slipped and fell onto the hard ground and the cart wheel just passed my head. I got up and went to the stack yard to lead the horses taking the other unloaded cart back to the cornfield. I tapped the horse’s back with the reins to pull off but the front rave lifted up and banged back down onto the cart. The horse bolted, turned sharp right and tipped the cart onto its side throwing me out. It was hard work to get the horse free of the harness etc. I got into trouble and was sent home. Not long after this happened the milkman left. As there was about 25 – 30 cows to milk, Brenda and I helped Mr Bletsoe do this job. I had to light the boiler to heat water to wash all the equipment after milking. One morning I put some paraffin onto the unlit fire to get it going quicker. When I lit it, I was blown backwards out of the door into the yard. Of course, I never did that again! We often had a few bruises during this time, as a cow called Apple Time could kick you, leaving you with three bruises from one kick. I had to feed some heifers in a covered in yard and there was a bull with them. One day he chased me to the gate and I couldn’t open it, but he just stopped and licked me on the arm. I got out ok. One day I had the job of taking three cart horses to the blacksmith in Gt. Gidding to be shod. The blacksmith was in the Fox and Hounds pub yard round the back. On the way back to Gidding Grove I rode one horse, led the second with the third one following. I rode bareback with only a bridle. Halfway back, the horse I was leading bit the one I was riding. I shouted at it to stop but all hell let loose. I dropped the lead and off we went up the road at full gallop. I had my arms round my horse’s neck. Round a corner we went with me still hanging on. By now the other two horses were in front of me. They decided to jump the ditch and the hedge to the right into a field. My horse followed, on across the field and they all stopped at a gate to the drive to the farm. I fell off as I was shaking. I landed under my horse but he just looked at me and didn’t tread on me. I got up and led them to the farm. Mr Bletsoe, whom I believe saw the horses (and me) jump the hedge into the field, told me off for riding the horse in the first place. Some years later I worked in Peterborough for the Co-op Bakery driving a horse – drawn bread delivery cart. The horse was lovely, as I just had to call him and he would bring the cart down the street to where I was waiting with my breadbasket. Later I worked at a farm in Steeple Gidding, but I will tell you about that next time. Harry Milford