by Rosemary Cooper
A visit to the National Sheep Association’s biennial event is a
fascinating experience for anyone who loves the countryside, even if
they do not keep sheep. It is held on the Three Counties Showground, in
Elgar country at the foot of the beautiful Malvern Hills.
As well as numerous trade stands catering for the farmer’s every need,
there are 57 stands for different breeds and crosses, and for by
products of shepherding, such as fleeces and wool, and the enquiring
visitor can learn all kinds of things.
There are maybe 53 pure breeds of sheep in the UK and 373 recognised
hybrids, more than in any other country in the world, although the
number seems to vary with every expert you consult. This came about
because different breeds are suitable for different habitats and
microclimates. Shepherds naturally favoured the breeds that thrived
best in their area, and the sheep that are the most profitable in the
lowlands would be unable to cope with the tough conditions encountered
by hefted sheep in hills and open spaces. There are even North
Ronaldsey sheep that have adapted to live on seaweed, because in the
past the Laird built a wall around the island to keep them out, so they
survived on the foreshore.
Neither would it have been much good for shepherds to realise that a
breed with the characteristics they sought was being developed many
miles away. In the days before road transport, the sheep drover’s task
was long and arduous, so it was much simpler to develop the breeds they
wanted by selective breeding from local stock.
Asking why other countries lack such a variety of sheep, the answer I
was given is that we have more breeds because we have a more diverse
range of habitats than any other country with sheep. Also many
countries have predators capable of taking adult sheep, so people are
prevented from keeping sheep altogether.
In the huge indoor area, Nicki Port showed me the difference in the
quality of the fleece that enables hill sheep to survive. A Welsh
Mountain fleece contains short hair, called kemp, which keeps out rain
and is shed all year round, unlike wool, which is moulted once a year.
The distinctive white-faced dark Herdwick, well known to walkers in the
Lake District, has a similar fleece. However the Devon/Cornwall
Longwool achieves the same waterproof effect by carrying large
quantities of grease in the fleece. Yet lowland sheep don’t need this
adaptation at all. Some sheep thrive on chalky soil and some on acid
soil. Some, kept in condition far removed from those in their home
country, develop deficiencies and survive but don’t thrive.
Although every society extols the virtues of its breed, the advice I
was given is to look around you and see what your neighbours are
keeping. This will be the breed that thrives in your area. I was
assured I was right to liken it to the process of planning my garden,
where I check whether plants need sun or shade, and the type of soil
they like, before choosing them for a specific area.
I soon realised why Suffolks live beyond my back garden in the valley,
but Welsh Mountains graze above the treeline on the steep hill the
other side of my house. Although I looked at all the 57 breeds and
crosses on show, I ended up taking a special interest in the other
breeds from my area, the handsome Kerry sheep with eye markings like
Giant Pandas, the Clun Forest with its off-black face topped with wool,
and its ancestor the Shropshire sheep, developed on the Long Mynd, and
looking very similar to the Clun Forest, but heavier. I also liked the
little Portland Sheep, from the Dorset coast, and this breed won the
championship for the best fleece, with a handsome glass trophy
displayed on the stand.
There are three breeds with Leicester figuring in their name,
apparently because if the involvement of the famous eighteenth century
livestock breeder, Robert Bakewell, who lived near Leicester. The
Leicester Longwool, one of various breeds with a Rastafarian
appearance, is, like the Suffolk Punch horse, rarer than the Giant
Panda. The Border Leicester, with its white face, Roman nose and very
long ears, is a parent of the Blue-faced Leicester, the preferred breed
of tup used to produce Mule ewes, which in turn are mated to terminal
sires such as the Suffolk or Texel to produce lambs for the table.
A Blue-faced Leicester tup, I was informed, can cost as much as
£20.000. Yet this is surpassed by the prices occasionally commanded by
Swaledale tups, who breed the ewes mated to Blue-faced Leicesters in
the North of England to produce these Mules. A few years ago a Swaledale
tup auctioned at Kirkby Stephen sales fetched an amazing £101,000, the
sort of money most of us only think of spending on houses! Knowing that
most sheep are worth only tens or possibly hundreds of pounds. I was
mystified by the economics of this. It appears that the purchaser of
such an expensive tup anticipates that, since 50% of his offspring will
be male, he only has to sire five tups that each fetch £20,000 at
auction to pay for himself.
While I sat in an armchair covered with luxurious Herdwick fleece,
Peter Robinson of the Real Sheepskin Association explained the problems
faced by the sheepskin industry. No more than ten people in the whole
country are experienced tanners, and they are all in their sixties.
With no young people coming into the industry, a traditional skill is
in danger of dying out. Also in the UK we kill thirteen million sheep
each year, yet only fifty or sixty thousand skins from these sheep are
tanned. Some years ago there were fourteen dedicated woolskin tanneries
in the country, but now there are only two, and the balance of the
skins the surviving tanneries need comes from abroad, mainly from
Australasia. The RSA is trying to encourage a proper chain of supply
throughout the sheep industry, linking the farmer to the abattoir to
the hide markets that deal in skins of various species of animals.
‘We are here to bang the drum for the woolskin tanning industry,’ he
said. ‘We need a survival plan, and to that end a conference is being
called in the West Country in Spring 2007, for representatives of all
branches of the sheep industry to determine the future of tanning. We
are hoping some big names will come to the conference.’
‘We would also like to have skins from every breed of British sheep
displayed in the centre. We’d like two flat skins and two racing
skins.’ (These were little model sheep on wheels.) ‘If we can engage
with a wide range of people, we can raise public awareness, and benefit
sales.’
Another stand focussed on wool from Icelandic sheep of various colours.
These sheep are housed indoors in the hard Icelandic winters, but are
grazed on the hills in summer, when there is a very lush growth of
grass. People were demonstrating tapestry weaving, where the wool is
packed down harder than with the normal warp and weft, and the colours
don’t reach all the way across. On a tapestry loom there is a rough
drawing underneath, called a cartoon, for the weaver to follow. It is
possible these days to use indelible colours for the cartoon, but in
the past they would have bled onto the wool.
In the seventeenth century, a painting would be commissioned from an
artist and then sent to a craftsman whose job it was to prepare a
mirror image, because the weavers, who were always men, were working
from the back. These tapestries could be very large, as big as seven
metres by nine metres. As work progressed, the tapestry was wound onto
a beam, so the weaver could only see a small part at any one time. When
it came off the loom it was still visible only from the back, but there
were splits in it that had to be stitched up. Only when this was
complete was the tapestry turned over so the weavers could at last see
the full beauty of their handiwork.
Another woman demonstrated broomstick crochet, in which every other row
of stitches is looped around a broomstick to produce large loops in the
finished product.
Once out of doors, a sheepdog auction was in progress. Two dogs brought
fresh sheep from a big holding pen, while the sale dog worked sheep in
front of prospective bidders, so they could witness his ability while
the auctioneer, standing on a stack of pallets at the far end of the
ring, took bids. Many dogs went for seven or eight hundred pounds, but
one fetched £2,500. This was made even more interesting by the jumping
ability of the sheep, who occasionally ended up in some very unlikely
places!
On yet another part of the showground, show ponies were in evidence,
yet, although I am normally a horse person, I never had time to watch
them! The NSA Sheep Event can certainly be recommended to anyone with
an interest in animals and the countryside, and my only regret is that
it is held for only one day every two years.
Edward Hart's
book list includes a section on sheep.