Mayo memories: Caught flattening cocks of hay

By Tom Gillespie

WHEN I was a gasur haymaking was an annual chore for many families around Castlebar.

This was usually undertaken in June when the grasses were in flower. Once the grasses were tall enough, the farmer cut it with a long-handled scythe, which was always held in high regard by Irish farmers.

The scythe was built to specifications in the old days, and no two scythes were exactly the same.

We lived in Marian Row in Castlebar and each householder had a large, long garden at the rear that was lovingly set to yield a multitude of mouth-watering vegetables. At the top of the garden a wall divided it from a field where the new St. Patrick’s National School was opened on November 9, 1961.

Hay was saved in this field and on one occasion I came to regret an evening when I went jumping on the hay cocks.

I was having such fun trampling the hay that I didn't notice the farmer who had the rights to the hay sneak up on me.

He grabbed me by the lug and frogmarched me to the gate, which was located beside the first house in the row beside Tom McHugh’s and Smiley Murphy’s gardens.

As we neared the gate the farmer said he was taking me to my parents. Thankfully, he had not asked me for my name or address at this point.

At the four-bar gate, which was locked, the farmer climbed over first and landed on the other side and I proceeded to follow. But as I reached the fourth bar I quickly jumped back in to the field and scampered as quickly as I could down the field.

I climbed over one of the garden walls and cut across two or three gardens and concealed myself in a potato ridge where I remained until I felt the coast was clear.

That was the last of my exploits destroying hay cocks.

At Heverin’s house at number 24 in Marian Row they had a cow and the family saved hay to sustain her during the winter.

One year the family got the franchise of the hay around the Church of the Holy Rosary as well as in a field in Brett’s Lane, opposite the old vocational school.

Many of us youngsters, all in short pants, in Marian Row and St. Bridget’s Crescent helped with the haymaking.

We were kept out of the way until after the hay had been cut by scythes into swarthes. It was left to dry and then turned by fork for drying on the other side. It was then shaken out and made into cockeens. Unless the hay was already very dry, these were left in the fields for a few more days to dry out some more.

Once they were fully dry, the cockeens were shaken out for a second time and built into proper haystacks between seven and eight feet tall.

This was hard work for young folk as with protracted use of the long-handled rakes we developed many blisters on our hands.

Súgans (hay ropes) were then twisted and drawn over the stacks to secure them. Heavy stone weights at the ends of the ropes held them down in high wind.

The haystacks stood in the field for a month or so and then it was time to bring them in.

My uncle, Bernie Gillespie, from Creagh Villa - now the Lough Lannagh Village - also saved hay for livestock he had at the Westport Road farm.

One year we saved hay from McCormack’s field which was located at the end of Cavendish Lane and along by the town river. It was a long, narrow field, and all the work was done by hand.

When saved, the hay was piled high in a large shed at the back of Creagh Villa, an area we children had many hours of fun in during the long forgotten hot summers of the 1950s and ‘60s.

By way of distraction, during a break from raking we would go ‘hunting’ frogs on the hayfield, usually with great success.

In days gone by, preparations for making hay were begun as early as February. Farmers usually set aside one or more fields for meadow.

Later in the spring, they'd encourage the pasture-quality grass to produce a higher yield by spreading farmyard manure on it. This was known as top-dressing.

How this was done by most farm folk was to load up the cart with manure, drive the cart to the field and then use a fork to unload the dung, little by little, until the entire field was covered. These would be spread out as evenly as possible until the field was fully dressed.

Today, haymaking is a relatively easy operation with modern machinery, and the farmer does not have to leave the comfort of his tractor cab.

In this era of powerful agricultural equipment, it would be dangerous to allow young children around a modern baler. But, in old Ireland, kids grew up working alongside the adults and, undoubtedly, thoroughly enjoyed the rides in the hay cart back and forth.

Different types of grasses were grown, including sheep's fescue, timothy grass and cocksfoot, which yielded a particularly coarse type of hay.

A grass to avoid was 'hungry' grass. This was a type of mountain grass which was said to bring on a craving for food if one accidentally stepped on it.