12 minute read
Cover Story By Robin Mills
Robin Mills met Peter Hardwill in Blackdown, West Dorset
© Peter Hardwill Photograph by Robin Mills
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M ’ y grandparents and father moved here to Hurst Farm in the early ‘30s following farming for 10 years at a small farm at Trull near Taunton. In his early twenties my father enjoyed life near Taunton; Grandfather said “he would leave a field of hay to go and watch Somerset play cricket”. Hurst must have been about 100 acres which they rented from the Doble family. Father joined the local skittles team and went to village hall dances where he met my mother Sybil Bugler, from Bettiscombe. They married in ’42 and I arrived in ’43. I have two younger sisters; Alice was born 14 months after me, and Evelyn arrived in 1948. My first memory as a child on the farm was the ’47/’48 winter. Everything was completely manual of course, loose hay made into ricks and fed to the cows which were tied up in a cowstall. The hard weather made extra work keeping the cattle fed and watered, and I can remember helping my grandfather on the farm from a very young age. My father said I was allowed to drive the tractor when I was big enough to push down the combined clutch and brake pedal on the Standard Fordson and clip it in place, which I managed at
Peter Hardwill
aged 8. In those days, as well as the grassland, a dairy farm would grow many different crops just to feed the cows; mangolds, kale, and some corn for both the grain and the straw. These days it’s silage full stop.
I went to school at Marshwood, taken every day by the school taxi which carried about 10 kids and was driven by Bob Rabbetts. One day we collided with an Austin 7 which went in the ditch, so we all got out and lifted it back on the road, and another time we called at the Gillingham’s farm when they were pressing cider. Arthur offered some to Bob our driver, so we kids all piled out and had a taste too. As youngsters we got to know the area well, and the folk who lived there, because we never really went anywhere else except to see relatives, attend market or once a year see the touring side play Somerset. My father would take me to NFU meetings at Thorncombe, where I was known as the youngest member there, and to skittles matches at Blackdown village hall where you’d get a cup of tea and a biscuit at half time. We would walk to the phone box up the road to book AI visits for the cows, and if we wanted to catch up with family or friends at the same time we would phone them as well.
After passing my 11 plus, from Marshwood School I should have gone to Lyme Regis but my mother was adamant that I went to Beaminster Grammar, because it was apparently the only school in Dorset which taught Agriculture to O level. I spent too much time working on the farm instead of homework to achieve very good results at school, but I passed in Mathematics and Agriculture, both subjects taught to me by the same teachers that taught my mother.
As I went through school, instead of studying Physics and Chemistry I studied Agriculture, so I had some spare lessons. Our headmaster, Major Porter, showed great interest in me and suggested I joined students in the engineering classes provided in Beaminster for secondary modern and evening students. This led me to start collecting my own tools, much helped by businesses in the town; Mr Colbourne from Colsons gave me so much time, and Reg Newton the storeman at Buglers supplied me with parts and advice as to how to fit them. Ken Hurford’s father taught me all I knew about electricity, which arrived at our farmhouse in about ’56. I ran a cable across to the cowstall where I fitted 3 lightbulbs. When I switched them on for the first time, Grandfather thought they were better than Blackpool illuminations. So after school, things began to fall into place for me, into engineering, away from just farming, although that’s where I still worked and lived.
I left school and things were on the change in agriculture, but not before the winter of ’62/’63. In that summer we changed to baled hay, which didn’t suit our old fashioned wagon. So that winter, I made a low loading bale trailer from timber sawn from a locally felled pine tree, ready for next summer, which made life very much easier. We were modernising the farm in several ways, all of which enabled me to put my skills to use.
I was invited by two well established members, John Jeffery and Robin Wyatt, to join Crewkerne Young Farmers club. They were both interested in engineering, and when a course in engineering came up at Yeovil College we all joined. I then went back to Beaminster to learn welding under Bugler’s foreman, John Poole. The farm had so many land drains that needed fixing, and unlike today, only large industrial diggers were available. My welding skills then came in very useful because I was able to build our own digger, which although basic, was a great deal better than a pick and shovel. Then people began to realise I could weld, and work began to come in from everywhere.
Taking advantage of the Farm Improvement Grant scheme of the day, we installed land drainage in one of our fields, using the digger I’d built, on the back of a David Brown 990. However, if you got stuck in one of the many wet patches, you were in trouble, so I bought a winch to fit on the back of a Fordson Major, and Father would sit on it, with his pipe in his mouth, and pull the lever which pulled us out, no trouble at all. The Ministry in those days had all these helpful staff, who would visit your farm, measure everything up and supply you with a drawing to work to. Nothing was too much trouble. The surveyor who did our drainage scheme saw the barns I’d built on the farm, and offered to help do the plans for me if ever I got asked to build steel framed barns. His name was John Wallis, and despite going on to run 2 pubs, and retiring to Wales, he did drawings for me until he died, probably for 40 years.
By 1966 my business had grown so I needed to separate it from the farm. So I formed my company PH Hardwill, and due to the massive demand for new buildings on farms all through the 1970’s the business grew. I took on Phil Studley,
© Peter Hardwill Photograph by Robin Mills
from Racedown, who was good at building and concrete, but soon adapted to steelwork. His sons followed, and Brin, who has just retired, worked for me for 51 years; Bill is still working for us at 47 years. And I have enjoyed having worked with excellent staff, several of whom have been with us for over 30 years. These days we try and keep the work within an area south of Bristol, west of Bournemouth, and east of Exeter, but I did put up a big chicken house at Petersfield once.
Just before my 70th birthday I suffered a stroke, but I’ve been lucky to make a full recovery, largely due to my wife Janet’s quick reaction in calling the ambulance. After that I handed the business over to my 2 sons, Philip and Michael. I’ve been lucky to have been able to build up the company over the years, and my basic education and business skills have been much improved by local schemes such as West Dorset Training, founded by Cmdr. Streatfield. So many local business people gave me such good advice, and gave me brilliant contracts to prove I took their advice.
Both my sons, from my first marriage, were keen to carry on the business they’d grown up with. Philip went to Salford University where, amazingly, they tailor-made his course to suit the work he was going to do. Michael is a natural learner and has developed all his many skills through experience. And since I was 7 years old, when my father first took me along, I’ve been watching Somerset play cricket. It was there I met my wife Janet, and we married in 1996. Janet worked at the Somerset College of Art and Technology, and continued there until she took early retirement. She has been so supportive in my many voluntary activities, such as Young Farmers, which I still am involved with; Crewkerne Rotary Club, as the only District Governor the club has provided in 2006/7; the Parish Council, and Dorset Training, all of which have brought us many friends. ’
During my teenage years, as well as the usual discussions about civil rights, the advance of nuclear power, and social democracy, friends and I shared much debate over the treatment of mental illness. We had read Ken Kesey’s book, One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, and later, the Oscar-winning film adaptation starring Jack Nicholson heightened our youthful but earnest analysis. It is often said that both works contributed to a backlash against many psychiatric practices, not least the use of electroconvulsive therapy, or ECT as we would refer to it in hushed tones. Memories of those concerns were brought home to me in two articles in this month’s issue. In Seth Dellow’s audio interview with retired doctor and public health official Cam Bowie, Cam recalls how one of his early initiatives was closing down massive mental health institutions or ‘asylums’ as they were known. One hospital in Wells had housed a massive 1400 mental health patients. These facilities were simply not working for patients and he helped implement a new system of smaller treatment amenities as well as care at home programmes. It’s fair to say that we have made many advances since those days but talking to Horatio Clare last week about his experiences going through a mental breakdown, highlighted issues that should still concern us today. In his new book, Heavy Light, he details his descent from delusion into mania and how his experience at the hands of psychiatric facilities left him horrified at treatment designed by category rather than for each individual. His options were to take one of three different pills which he described as ‘chemical coshes’—for him there was no alternative. One of the nagging questions that remain after reading Heavy Light is: who decides and under what parameters are decisions made about when paranoia becomes an issue requiring intervention? In Horatio’s case, his belief that he was in the center of a conspiracy led to an increase in irrational behavior beyond what could be deemed ‘in character’ and beyond what was socially acceptable. He obviously needed help, but with every aspect of the public health industry now under enormous pressure, those taking intervention decisions today must have a daunting duty of care. 3 Cover Story By Robin Mills 10 The Place I Love By Margery Hookings
12 Past Present and Future - Cam Bowie 16 Event News and Courses
22 Woodbury Castle By Philip Strange
24 News & Views
25 Latterly Speaking By Humphrey Walwyn 28 ...ad Astra By Cecil Amor
30 House & Garden
30 Vegetables in October By Ashley Wheeler 32 October in the Garden By Russell Jordan 34 A Life with Flora By Connie Doxat 36 Property Round Up By Helen Fisher
38 Food & Dining
38 Venison and Cognac Sausages By Lesley Waters 40 Deep Fried Courgette Flowers By Mark Hix 41 Isinglass By Nick Fisher
42 Arts & Entertainment
42 Actually you’re too Mad By Fergus Byrne 46 Preview By Gay Pirrie Weir
52 Galleries
55 Screen Time By Nic Jeune 56 Young Lit Fix By Antonia Squire
56 Health & Beauty 57 Services & Classified
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Cecil Amor Seth Dellow Connie Doxat Helen Fisher Nick Fisher Richard Gahagan Mark Hix Margery Hookings Nic Jeune Russell Jordan Robin Mills Gay Pirrie Weir Antonia Squire Philip Strange Humphrey Walwyn Lesley Waters Ashley Wheeler
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