Peat or Turf
My right of turbary
There were strict rules about gathering fuelwood in the feudal days of the New Forest Commons. The trees were owned by the Lord of the Manor and were not to be felled or branches cut so fallen deadwood was all that the peasants could use on their fires. Firewood was scarce but some bright spark, many moons ago had found out that just as in the North of the UK, peat, once dried burns well. As a result much of the New Forest peat was dug and used as fuel. Once the accessible peat was exhausted it was discovered that with the right technique heathery turf would burn in the grate and for centuries heather turves were the primary fuel of many New Forest commoners.
I recall ‘turf house’, a slate roofed extension to our cottage, almost as big as the cottage itself where the dried turf for the year was stored. On the floor, even though turf had ceased to be used well before my birth there was still some black, sandy soil quite unlike the clay soil of our smallholding. This was the remaining sand shaken out from the turf. Just a memory now as ‘turf house’ fell down 60 years ago, never replaced as open fires were already a thing of the past for us.
The right to cut turf on the open Commons and ‘Forest’ was so well established that it had a proper name ‘Turbary’ and the right to cut turf was tied to the property or perhaps the actual hearth of the dwelling. I may have right of Turbary, I should have but The National Trust has attempted to obfuscate Common rights away from us by legal convolution. I don’t care that much as I have no intention of cutting turves for fuel.
I may not have the right of Turbary any more but what I do have is the Turf Spade that was used to harvest the fuel. It is a beautiful thing, clearly hand crafted by a local skilled person. The design is unique, nothing like a peat spade and only a little like a landscapers turfing iron. It must have been hard work using the spade as heather is tough and unyielding. The blade of the spade is thin and sharp and the wooden handle heavy with a double crank to make the application of force easier. I don’t know if the spade was used with a stabbing motion as in the drawing, or, more likely forced into the turf with leg and knee pressure as with a turfing iron. Although I have the spade I daren’t try to use it as it would break thanks to decades of wood worm activity.
Heywood Sumner illustrated turf cutting in a woodcut showing the Whitefield clump landmark that places the turf cutter on the hill just behind our holding. I don’t know who the character is but I believe he is using the very turf spade that I have inherited.
Before my Dad died we encouraged him to write about the old ways of the Commoners like him. Sadly the only topic he was able to cover was turf cutting. I treasure those brief notes and shaky drawings. Here is one of his sketches that shows the dried turves being loaded onto a horse drawn cart.
There are several veg plots on our little holding, only one is workable throughout the year and that has clay soil that has been ameliorated by decades of turf fire ash. This dates back to when the patch was the garden of a long gone squatters cottage, no doubt ‘night soil’ helped the fertility and the sand improved the drainage.
That turf from the Common is no longer burned is a good thing, leaving it intact is best for wildlife and carbon fixing. I am pleased that I have a relic in the shape of the old spade that links me with a way of life that my father lived for the early part of his life.