Edwardian Farm (2010) s01e11 Episode Script
Episode 11
1 Here in Devon, in the tranquil Tamar Valley, is a port that once bustled with industry.
Overground, farmers supplied Britain's growing towns and cities with fresh produce.
Daffodils set for London.
While underground, miners extracted copper and precious minerals.
Firing! Now at Morwellham Quay, archaeologists Alex Langlands and Peter Ginn, and historian Ruth Goodman, are living the lives of Edwardian farmers for a full calendar year.
Oh, look at them! Look at all of them! They're so sweet! They're getting to grips with the rural industries that once brought wealth to Devon.
- Oh! - Oh, wow! We got something! Previously, they've restored the market gardens that once covered the valley You're allowed one, cos these are all for market.
planted a field of potatoes We've just gotta hope that we get some dry weather.
and rounded up a new worker from the wilds of nearby Dartmoor.
One of our most important jobs, trying to start breaking him in.
Now it's July, their busiest month so far.
The team must harvest, from the trees, the land, and the river.
I tell you what, it beats scrubbing floors.
But the potato crop is under threat.
Some of these plants, we're getting a kind of rot on the leaves.
And it's crunch time for the new recruit.
I think this is gonna be a bit heavier than anything he's had before.
When their hard work is complete, they can enjoy a trip to the seaside, Edwardian-style.
Huzzah! Harvest time in the Tamar Valley was the busiest period in the year.
Alex and Peter will need to call on all their resources to bring in the crops.
There'll be a lot to carry, so they're enlisting Laddie, the Dartmoor pony, to help.
Laddie's a workhorse in training.
Until four months ago, he'd spent his whole life roaming wild on the moor.
So this has been the first step in his training.
Just to get this leading.
You know, his head's down, his ears aren't desperately pinned back, you know, he's sort of listening around, and we're pretty happy that he's good to lead now.
One of the reasons these ponies have survived and become such a feature of the rural economy around here is because right up into the Edwardian period, they were carrying out crucial services to the people that lived on and around Dartmoor.
And pack animals, basically, that was their major role, along with carting.
And the first thing we want to do, a bit simpler than carting, is to use the horse to carry panniers.
Basically panniers are baskets that would be laden over the horse's back and they would take, you know, something up to sort of 30, 40 pounds' worth of weight.
These are two sacks that are filled with fleeces.
And this should just act as an introduction, to put baskets on there.
Let him have a sniff.
So, er, here we go.
There you go, boy.
Just sit here for a bit.
I just marvel with this pony, actually.
You know, we just throw a couple of bags on him like this and he's not particularly bothered.
- He's a cool customer, isn't he? - He is.
Do you want to, erm, see how he fares, then? Walk on.
Walk on.
Good boy, Laddie.
He's doing very, very well.
Considering he hasn't had anything on his back before, certainly not walking around like this, he's taken to it really well.
Come on.
The next step is taking Laddie out of the training pen.
I am feeling slightly nervous about this.
It's the first time he's done any work outside this ring.
It's unnerving, you know, everything so far has gone so well with him.
I'm just slightly worried that at the moment he's just being too cool.
The first thing Laddie will have to carry is the cherry crop, the most important July harvest for many Edwardian farmers.
In the 1900s, there were 12,000 acres of cherry orchards across Britain, compared to around 1,000 acres today.
The Tamar Valley was one of the main producers.
Only a handful of the valley's orchards remain, but Alex and Peter are hoping to harvest the valuable fruit.
They need to find one important piece of equipment.
We now need the ladders.
It's critical that we have the ladders.
We can't offer to help out with this cherry harvest without having our own ladder.
It's like turning up to a tennis match without a tennis racket.
Well, we certainly have a selection of those here.
We do.
Cherry ladders varied in design from region to region.
In the Chilterns they splayed out at the bottom.
While in the Tamar Valley, they were straight all the way down.
Wherever they were found, they had to be extremely long, because cherry trees can be up to 70 feet tall.
That is a beast! Of course, the difficult thing, Peter, is getting it out of here.
Ah! Easy.
- It's not gonna go.
- Right.
What do you think? Window? We gotta drop it down into here, haven't we? Yeah.
The problem is I think the building behind us has been built on subsequently.
It's got breeze blocks in there.
So chances are these ladders have never come out! Watch that pane of glass, Peter.
That's it, don't OK, we're under.
Oh! It's coming, it's coming.
We're nearly there, mate.
But it's one thing getting it down.
We've then gotta get it out of that entrance, haven't we? Steady.
Oh! Step one.
OK.
Bring it round.
Yeah.
And hey presto! There we go.
Oh, dear, Peter, I think we've got another problem here.
While the boys prepare for the cherry harvest, Ruth's getting on with another job for July.
So this is a salmon net, the sort used in this river? That's right, yes.
Keeping your nets in good repair would have been important.
Salmon fishing was once a huge industry in the Southwest, with up to 2,000 fish caught on the Tamar every year.
Local fishermen Alex Scoble and Frank Lannion were among the dozens of men who made their living in this way.
It's over the top So how old were you when you first started salmon fishing in this river, then? Oh, when I was going to school.
Really? - You were out as kids? - Oh, yes.
Netting? Netting salmon.
Usually we went with the older salmon fishermen.
- Yeah.
- You know.
I think it was cheap labour, really, cos they never paid the boys very much! Were women ever allowed to go out on the boats? Oh, yes, there's nothing to stop them - Really? - Yeah.
- Sea fishing, they wouldn't let them.
- Yeah, that's right.
But on the river it was a bit different, was it? Well, myself I was superstitious, really.
I didn't like ladies in the boat.
- Didn't you? - No.
He let me and my daughter go with him.
So it's just like, special cases.
Hey! There you go, look at that.
- So can I join you, then, on a fishing trip? - Yeah.
I'll take you up on that.
Mend the net and we'll take you on a fishing trip.
That sounds a good deal to me.
Yes, please! Stuart King is a carpenter who's studied how cherry ladders were made.
Hello, Stuart.
He's come to the farm to help out.
Here is the ladder which I need you to take a look at.
That's a ropey old thing.
It is.
You can see where we've lost a few rungs, and erm Some of them, I think, are a bit past their sell-by date.
- Yeah, so you're looking for a repair, I suppose.
- I am indeed.
And I hear the cherries are getting ripe.
Yeah, and we've gotta get to them before the birds do, so - So it's gotta be a make do and mend job.
- Indeed.
Stuart's using a pole lathe to turn the wood into rungs.
- It's such a fantastic piece of equipment - Yeah.
And so simple as well.
Yeah, and we can trace lathes very similar to this back at least to the Iron Age.
- Right.
- 150 BC.
Almost certainly way beyond that.
Really, all through history from thereon.
That is lovely, that finish.
Never used sandpaper.
Didn't need to.
That's as far as I can go until we measure the size of the hole.
Right, OK.
- So that we can taper those down.
- Yeah.
To fit the hole.
I have just the tool.
Callipers are used to make the measurement.
Holes vary.
Erm, I'm just gonna measure that one with these inside callipers, and that's perfect.
Perfect.
- Shall we try this one? - Yeah.
- Pull the ladder apart for me.
- Just ease apart like that.
Thank you.
Yeah.
- There she is! - There we are.
- Morning! - Morning.
Hello! - Are all the nets ready to go? - Yes, all ready.
- Oh, this is a great boat.
- Yeah.
Either you can throw the net out or row the boat.
- Can I row the boat? - Yeah, certainly you can.
You see, I knew there was a reason my dad taught me to row.
The traditional method of salmon fishing on the Tamar is known as seine netting.
It's one of the oldest occupations on the river.
The net is 600 feet long.
As it's fed into the water, weights along one edge cause it to stretch down to the bottom of the river.
Fish are caught by encircling them in the net.
Seine netting is currently banned on the Tamar, but they've been given permission to attempt it.
A-ha, she's all in! - So I let the boat ride up onto the shore, yeah? - Yeah.
It is just sort of leaning into it, isn't it? - Let your weight do it, rather than pull.
- Yeah, that's right.
I tell you what, it beats scrubbing floors! Salmon could only be caught at certain times of year.
When exactly is the season, then? Well, it did range from March, or about then, March to August.
So what are the chaps doing the rest of the year? Well, usually the men in this part of the valley would go back and work on the market garden.
No, she's empty.
Empty.
When you pull the net in and there's nothing there, they call that a hop out.
Hop out! That's cos all the fish have hopped out.
- So now we load up again and just go again.
- That's right.
- So what's the biggest catch you've ever had? - Well, one cast of the net, 27.
Whoo! - But for one tide - Yeah.
we had 55.
Gosh, that's a lot of fish in one tide.
Out.
Out a bit, Ruth.
Fishing like this has been banned on this river now.
So we've had to get special dispensation to come out and Yes, that's right.
So if we do catch any, we have to put them back in? Yes, yes.
Oh! - A hop out again.
- Hop out.
Hop out, Charlie Peace.
It appeals to the gamblers in life.
Those that like it slow and steady don't turn to fishing.
So it's not just having a woman out with you that's caused this run of bad luck? No comment.
"No comment.
" I like that.
I don't care we didn't get any.
I had a good day.
So have I.
- I've enjoyed your company.
- Aw! Thank you! Proper job.
Well, you know, when they do lift the ban, give me a call, I'll be back.
Yeah, we will.
The cherries are ripe and ready to pick.
Alex and Peter are helping Jessica Collins, who owns one of the few cherry orchards still left in the valley.
Her trees are varieties that were developed in the 19th Century to suit the Southwest's climate.
Norma Chapman grew up harvesting cherries from her father's market garden.
Good morning.
Good morning, Alex.
Hello, Norma.
Nice to see you.
- Hi.
- Hi, Jess.
Nice to see you.
Want to guide me, tell me where to put the ladder? - I'll do my best to do that, yes.
- OK.
Excellent.
Positioning the ladder could be a matter of life or death.
Cherry pickers were injured, and sometimes even killed, falling off them.
And more round this way.
Ah! This tree's at a funny angle.
And the excuses are coming out now.
The curses will be coming out later.
It's the moment of truth for the old ladders.
Feeling pretty sturdy.
If it weren't for those telltale creaks.
First cherries.
It's all right.
That wasn't a rung.
How big was this industry? Well, it was very large, because not many people worked outside the village at all.
Everyone, the families went down through the generations.
And as soon as I was old enough, I left school and I worked with my parents until they retired.
So, as just a family industry, how many cherries were you picking in a season? Well, with helpers on a very heavy season, Dad has picked eight ton.
- Eight tons.
- That's right.
Wow! But on an average it was three to four tons a year off the trees he had.
That's a tremendous amount of cherries! In the 1900s, a ton of cherries could sell for £90, around two years' wages for the average agricultural labourer.
This meant a cherry orchard was often the most valuable part of a farm.
I love the outdoors.
And also particularly cherry time, we used to sing our hearts out up the top of the cherry tree, and it would just echo around the valley! I have to say, there's nowhere I'd rather be on a hot July morning, up here in the treetops, nice cool breeze.
And of course it's also a test of your acrobatic fitness.
Obviously it's dangerous, but at the same time if you just take care, make sure your footings are good and that all the branches you're leaning on are nice and safe, it's actually a pretty good workout for the body.
No yoga classes needed for me tonight.
Up on Dartmoor, the weather's closing in.
Ruth has braved the rain to collect some food for Laddie.
Doesn't look much, does it, gorse, you'd think what the heck can you use that for? But actually, it's pretty darn useful stuff.
Gorse is highly nutritious.
It contains half the protein content of oats, it's free, and it requires no cultivation.
As a result, in areas where it grows wild, many Edwardian farmers fed it to their horses.
Women's work, this.
Some farms would pay a woman to come on up to the moors and cut.
And she'd spend most of the day up here.
If you were good at it and worked hard, the theory was a woman should be able to cut enough gorse in six hours to feed 12 horses.
They eat the little shoots right at the top.
It's really quite sort of luscious stuff.
Further down, of course, it's much harsher.
If you're up here long enough, and you watch the ponies, you see that they not only eat the gorse but they actually sort of prepare it themselves.
They'll pull a piece off like I'm doing, put it down on the ground, and then stamp on it with their hooves.
And that stamping breaks all the sort of spines, which makes it much softer in their mouths to eat.
When I get back down the bottom, I'll have to do a load of stamping myself, just to break it up to make it into good fodder.
We have to pick them at the stalks here.
As soon as the stalk comes out, all the juice runs out.
Of course, if you don't, you can eat them.
Oh! And that one doesn't have a stalk.
Oi, Alex! How full's your cherry basket? Not too bad.
I'd like to say it was half full, but probably looking closer to a third, actually.
Well, you can still see the bottom of my basket.
Is that because more of the cherries you picked are in old tummy tumpkins, Peter? He knows me too well! No, Alex.
Be the ruin of this farm, that boy.
What do you think of the standard of the cherries? There are a few I don't think that one's gonna go to market.
There may be one or two red ones, but on the whole they're very good indeed.
And you haven't broken them.
You've picked them with the stems on, and so they'll carry well.
What would happen to them now? They'd be bought that day? Yes, yes, nine times out of 10, very rarely did they wait till next morning.
- Right.
- The order was gone.
- Right, they were that popular.
- Yes, they were.
And there's probably a reason why they're that popular.
Really good.
I've been really good.
I haven't tasted one.
- Haven't you? - I waited till I got down here, and I'm just gonna give this one, cos it's especially dark Yes, that one will be much sweeter than the others.
- Mmm.
- Mmm! And that is absolutely delicious.
- Doesn't taste like that from the supermarket.
- Not at all.
- That is - Completely different.
That is a taste sensation.
That gets in around the jaws, that does.
That's so sweet.
Mmm! They're incredible.
True Tamar Valley cherries.
Wow! Brilliant.
How are you getting on, Peter? I've got a little bit of tummy ache! And not very many cherries! Oh, dear.
I'm gonna head off now and go and get Laddie, the pony.
And we're gonna charge him with carrying these panniers full of all this produce.
Yes.
So I'll say a big thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thanks ever so much for your time.
Thanks for letting us get involved, Jess.
That was brilliant.
Fantastic.
I'll let you fill that up.
I'll go and get the pony.
I thought in order to sort of calm Laddie down so he wasn't too skittish, get him in a good mood, I'd get him really full.
Anybody with a really full stomach tends to take things a little calmer.
That's my theory, anyway.
And you can see all the green, juicy sap being released.
When you look at it straight on the bunch, it looks as dry as anything, but bash it a bit and, you can see, it's actually quite succulent.
Oh, is that better? Are you feeling good now, eh? - Hello, Ruth.
- How's the cherry harvest going? Fantastic.
Beautiful juicy cherries we have.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
- But how's Laddie? - Full of gorse! - But he's ready for work? - Yeah, I think so.
Well, this is the big one.
He's gonna help us get these cherries back from the orchard.
Alex is taking Laddie to meet up with Peter and the cherries.
You see, this is what made this creature so great down here in the Southwest, because the advantage of him was quite simply that he could take a straighter route from A to B than a cart could.
You can undoubtedly get more in a cart but with a cart with wheels you were always in danger on these steep slopes of running away from yourself.
But the pony, of course Come on, walk on.
Well, they could go anywhere that a human could go.
Doesn't matter how steep the valley sides were, they'd be able to cross them, so they wouldn't have to make massive detours to bridges and much easier inclines to carry produce.
Feeling sorry for Laddie.
This is quite a weight.
Steady.
- Hello, Peter.
- Hi.
Here he is.
And here are the cherry panniers.
Right.
OK.
Now, this is the tricky bit.
I think this is gonna be a bit heavier than anything he's had before.
- I've got the edge of this one.
- Got that one? And I just hope he's gonna be all right with this weight.
What do you reckon, fella? Eh? Walk on.
- Come on, Laddie.
- Come on, Laddie.
Good boy.
First day of work.
How does it feel? Come on, good lad, good lad.
These panniers do seem to be working out really, really well.
And he's just taken to this like a duck to water.
It's amazing.
It really is.
You would not really fathom the fact that he was a wild pony on Dartmoor merely a couple of months ago, and now he's an integral part of our farm team.
He's the guy doing all the work.
Good boy, Laddie.
Good boy.
At the cottage, Ruth's making sure the cherries last.
We can't possibly eat that many fresh.
So I thought I'd preserve a whole load for the rest of the summer.
Reminds me of being a kid, doing this.
My mum's a great gardener.
And we always had oodles and oodles and oodles of soft fruit.
And her and I would sit outside the back door on a sunny day, on a chair, a giant bowl of fruit between us, and chat.
And prepare all the fruit.
So I just need some sugar.
Now if you read a recipe, they will start telling you you need this many pints and this many pounds of sugar.
I think that's really misleading, because what you need is enough sugar to create the right thickness of syrup for your fruit.
If your fruit's got loads of water in it, that's gonna go out into the syrup and make a watery syrup.
If your fruit's a bit drier, if you've had a hot summer with no rain, then you're gonna need a completely different amount of water, as against sugar.
So I always think the best way is to ignore the recipe and look at it.
And as the fruit cook they're gonna sort of gently release the water that's in them.
So I should be able to see how watery it's going.
And then I can add sugar until it looks the right sort of thickness, until, basically, the sugar doesn't dissolve.
If it starts to feel gritty in the pan as I'm stirring it, stop adding sugar.
So if I put that on that corner there, so they'll just very gently sweat in there.
Right, there, they're done.
Now, if there was a secret ingredient in this recipe, this would have to be it the jar.
But by the Edwardian period, very cheap, readily available glass jars were on the market, by a number of makers, but particularly the Kilner jar.
Kilner jars revolutionised home preserving.
Invented in the 1840s, this system of jars had airtight seals and interchangeable parts, so any lid would fit on any jar.
You wouldn't think something like a different sort of jar would make such a difference to ordinary people's diets, but it did.
If you can preserve your own fruits and jams easily and cheaply, then the amount of vitamin C that an ordinary family can get through the winter just rises enormously, doesn't it? I mean, we're so used to being able to get fresh stuff from all over the world, but in the Edwardian period, preserved fruit and veg was relatively new in common people's diets.
And this is the format it was most often in.
So there's my cherries in my jar.
Rubber seal on the top.
And my glass lid.
Slips on over.
And a screw top.
And of course, because it's gone in hot, as it cools, I get a vacuum.
And that will help the preservation.
And we shall be eating cherry puddings, cherry pies, for ages.
Bringing in the cherries was cause for huge celebration in the Tamar Valley.
Throughout the Edwardian period, a local landowner hosted an annual party for the children on his estate.
This was known as the cherry feast.
There you go.
Cherry pies.
Hello, chaps.
Take a seat.
It was often attended by a rector from the Church of England.
Well, I think, boys, you should take off your caps.
You're going to say your prayers.
Let us pray.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit Reverend Lamb is the rector of nearby parish St Mellion.
may the Lord make us truly thankful.
- Amen.
- Amen.
- Would anyone like a cup of tea? - Yes, please.
- One, two - The cherry feast was specific to this locality but at the same time fairly typical of local harvest celebrations.
Mm.
It's very much sort of an establishment thing, isn't it? You've got the lord of the manor or the equivalent - the owners of the estate - putting on these sorts of feasts.
And you get the established Church being involved.
Well, the vast majority, of course, of the cherry orchards were owned by the large landowners.
And it was a way of saying thank you, for the tremendous effort they'd put in.
This child has not finished his pie.
An unseemly waste of good, good food! - He needs more tea, that's what it is.
- Oh, dear me.
A little more tea, a little more tea to wash it down.
This sort of food, I mean, cake and pie and cream, this would have been quite a treat.
Oh, huge, yeah.
And also the great fun of eating outdoors.
A street party atmosphere, it would have been.
But they would have been on their best behaviour.
- Even so! - Even so, yeah.
Harvest celebrations were a welcome break for Edwardian farmers.
Rural workers'holidays were few and far between.
Many farmers only had one day out a year.
So that's the cherry harvest over and done with.
Yeah.
It's potatoes next.
I have a little thing to cheer us up.
The church day outing at the seaside.
- Really? - Yeah, yeah, yeah! - Our Methodist chapel at the seaside! - Oh, fantastic! - Yeah, but - What? - I don't know.
- What? You're gonna have to smarten up, Peter.
Well They wouldn't let you on the beach like that.
Don't worry, mate, I'll get you a suit.
A suit to die for.
Before the team can embark on their beach escapade, there's the potato harvest to bring in.
But conditions on the farm have not been ideal and Alex has spotted a problem.
He's decided to get an expert to check the crop.
Well, this is the potato crop.
Francis Mudge has a lifetime's experience of farming in Devon, and has been advising the team throughout the year.
Well, thanks for coming down, Mr Mudge.
Just want to get your opinion on this.
I'm really concerned that some of these plants, we're getting a kind of rot on the leaves.
Yeah, you've got a bit of blight just coming in.
- It's blight, isn't it? - Yeah.
And blight is so bad for potatoes.
Blight is caused by a fungus-like organism which has spores that are carried through water or air.
They infect the plant's leaves, causing its cells to collapse.
Blight frequently destroyed potato crops.
But there are emergency steps the boys can take.
If you cut the tops off now, you'll save the potato.
- But - Right.
- He, he won't grow no more.
- Right.
They may be a bit on the small side, but it's better to have a small potato than - Than no potato.
- Than no potato at all.
Right, then we've actually gotta behead all these plants.
Take all of these plants off.
- Take, cut them off.
- Right.
Including ones without blight? Well, yeah, because it them are liable to catch it.
Blight thrives in warm, humid and rainy conditions.
This must have been the potato grower's greatest fear, a summer of rain like this.
- Typical Devonshire weather, you know? - Right.
They say sunny Devon, but you still get the rain, you know? - Yeah.
- Sunny Devon! - I've heard that one too many times.
- You have, have you? I have to say, so far I've been really proud of this potato crop, but I have, in many ways, forgotten about blight, potato blight.
It's really probably one of the most famous diseases, and it's caused what we might term almost sort of medieval-like famines during the 19th Century, and there would have been people in Edwardian England and Ireland who would have remembered the great famines of the 1840s, the great Irish potato famines.
So you can imagine farmers with that memory stepping out into the field, seeing the rain.
And you could watch the colour drain from their faces as they observe the blight taking hold on their potato crop.
Knowing that one more year, they're gonna lose that harvest.
For us, I'm hoping, with these plants gone, we're gonna be able to lift these potatoes, and keep them free and safe from the blight.
The boys must wait for a spell of dry weather before harvesting the potatoes.
If they're lifted in the rain they'll be covered in mud, making a huge amount of work to clean and dry them.
To bring in the summertime crops, many farmers enlisted extra help.
Ruth's found one potential source.
We need some labour for our potato harvest.
Cheap labour.
That means child labour.
And like many Edwardian farmers, we've got our eye on them! They are the cheapest labour about.
It's not difficult work, it just needs lots of little hands.
Children's labour had always been central to the rural economy.
Their work, whether it be picking the harvest, clearing stones off the fields, scaring birds, had always been the little bit of extra labour that tipped the balance, that made the difference between a farm being economic and not economic.
Sit.
In the 1900s, Morwellham had a village school.
Put your hands together, bow your heads in reverence, and close your eyes.
Valerie Aldred is a teacher who re-enacts classes from the past.
In the classroom there would have been probably around 60 children.
Depending on the time of the year, because in the summer, when the harvesting was taking place, most of the boys would have been out on the fields, doing their jobs, or helping their fathers.
And the schoolmarm probably would have turned a blind eye.
confirm the authority of the mother over the sons.
Around the turn of the century, there was a shift in the way people thought about schools.
For the first time, many began to believe that children's education was more important than their jobs.
From the 1870s onwards, a series of laws made schooling both compulsory and free.
The school leaving age rose but there was still a demand for children to work.
When I say the words "commence" The school leaving age was raised to 12, but if the children were able to pass their standard exam, at the age of perhaps 10 and a half, then they were allowed to leave.
So the pressure on children to get through that exam from their families could be intense.
Maybe at 10 and a half you could be bringing in money that made the difference between meat once a week and meat never.
But only if you could pass the exam.
And immediately I can see that one or two of you have improved and one or two of you need to practise a great deal more.
Practice makes perfect.
Repeat.
Practice makes perfect.
And again Discipline was extremely important, bearing in mind that, of course, adults were superior to children, children should be seen and not heard, and speech is silver, silence is golden, and the schoolmarm was queen, absolutely, and the children did what they were told or they were punished.
They'd probably be quite glad.
Have a bit of running around in the mud.
Once the potatoes are harvested, the team will head off for a trip to the seaside.
Ruth's called in an expert to help her prepare.
Luca Costigliolo is a costume designer who specialises in historical clothing.
Hello.
Luca! He's come to show Ruth how to make one crucial garment.
I've always really fancied one of these bathing suits, I don't know why.
- They could be made by anyone at home.
- By anybody.
Yeah.
Edwardian swimming costumes were made from woven fabrics, such as wool crepe.
I've always been fascinated with the idea of wearing wool at the seaside.
I've always wondered what happens when you come out of the water.
How, you know, how baggy the costume will become, and Yeah.
So I'm just going to cut the pattern out.
The design of women's swimming costumes was fraught with controversy in the Edwardian period.
Victorian women had worn bathing dresses, which when wet, could weigh up to 30 pounds, making it difficult, and even dangerous, to swim.
But around 1900, a new one-piece costume appeared, dubbed "the skin suit".
Only the most daring women would wear it.
Luca's chosen a more traditional option for Ruth.
I decided to go for a two-piece.
You know, a little blouse with a belt, and some bloomers.
I think it, er OK, I'm ready to cut the cloth now.
Bright red, what a choice of colour! I think it's quite a nice colour to wear at the seaside.
I mean, I don't think anyone was really supposed to be that attractive in these kind of clothes.
- It's not a sunbathing suit, is it? - No, not at all.
- It's for wearing in the water.
- Exactly.
Let's get the needles out.
When are you going to the seaside? Well, next week I think is the plan.
Oh, where, where? It's a town called Lynmouth.
I'm so sorry that I'm not going to be there seeing you bathing in the sea in this.
Right, I'm ready to go on the machine.
- Yeah? - Yes.
- Look! - Ooh! I love the gold foliage.
"The length of stitch, as well as the forward and backward stitch, is controlled by the stitch regulator handle A.
See illustration.
" Sewing machines were indispensable to many Edwardian women.
Though ready-made clothes could be bought in department stores, a lot of women still preferred to make their own.
I love these old machines.
But I mean look how beautifully they're bobbing.
- It's just so precise.
- It's just engineering precision, isn't it? Once you get into the rhythm of it, you can go quite fast.
The weather's been clear for several days and the ground has dried out.
At last the boys have a window to harvest the potatoes.
Local farmer David Udy has brought along his potato lifter.
This type of plough was invented in the mid-19th Century when potatoes began to be grown on a large scale.
Bit stony just as you go in here.
Oh, look at that, look at this bountiful crop.
A river of potatoes.
I'm just overjoyed to see that we don't have any signs of blight on the potatoes, so it was definitely worthwhile cutting the heads off.
But the lifting plough is struggling to dig out all the plants.
It's just about getting this plough to the right depth so that we get underneath the plants and lift them all out.
I mean, it's a fairly heavy-duty piece of kit, isn't it, these ploughs? Fortunately, David's brought along another contraption, a potato digger.
Wow, look at that, what a piece of kit! - Well, we'll see what it can do.
- Yeah.
Potato diggers were another device that first appeared in the 1850s, but it took decades to perfect the design.
They came into common use around the turn of the century.
- This is lethal! - Walk on, boys.
Can't see this passing modern health and safety legislation.
Oh! It's raining potatoes! Look at that, and it's not missing a potato either, is it? Fantastic.
The digger lifts the potatoes totally clear of the soil.
This was a big advance for farmers.
For the first time they had a machine that left their crop cleanly on the surface of the field.
Smashing.
Steady, boys.
Steady, whoa! - So this is a much more clinical exercise.
- Oh, yeah, very much so, yeah.
Yeah, big improvement on the other machine.
It's almost like a funfair ride for the potatoes! We'll make a farmer of you yet, Peter.
Gently does it.
Oh! Smashing.
Steady, boys.
So there we go, that job was a lot quicker than I thought it would be.
- Doesn't take long, does it? - It doesn't with this piece of kit.
It did a very good job.
It must have been quite revolutionary when these turned up on British farms.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
And it's got on "Britain's best machine".
Is it Britain's best machine? Well, I'll vouch for that.
But before the team can get the potatoes in, the weather's turned against them.
It's terrible timing for the crop, which is now covered in mud, and in danger of rotting in the field.
The schoolchildren are quickly pressed into service.
OK, down to the bottom first.
Bottom of the field first.
Always easier to work uphill.
Even the very smallest potatoes need picking up, OK? Ones you wouldn't even consider eating.
We don't want any spuds left behind.
We want a really clean pick.
Absolutely every potato, even the smallest potatoes.
They'll grow back next year.
We don't want them to grow back next year, because they'll carry disease on, year after year, so we've got to pick up every single potato.
This really isn't the potato harvest I'd envisaged.
I was looking forward to blazing sunlight, lovely dry, friable soil, clean potatoes.
Sun on your back.
But unfortunately it's sheeting down.
This really isn't the weather in which you want to be picking potatoes.
I can't move! My shoes are full of mud.
Well, scrape it off.
Less talk, more action.
More baskets here.
Chop chop, lads.
Obviously, Alex right now has his own little army.
A bit like Fagin.
You're slow! Come on, we've gotta get this field done by the end of the day.
It's full? Go on, then, run it up to the farmyard.
Chop chop! Right, you two standing around doing nothing, that one can go up the top, please.
The new education laws, and advances in machinery, meant that the use of child labour on farms began to fall.
But potato picking remained a job that couldn't be done by machine.
This is very hard work.
And I'd say that these baskets are weighing somewhere between 20 and 30 kilos each.
And we've been taking loads off the field.
So we are gonna get, I reckon a couple of tons coming off of here.
Spuds coming out of our ears.
OK.
Get them dry, then, fellas.
It is a quagmire.
Presentation was crucial to the Edwardian consumer.
Muddy potatoes would have been difficult to sell.
Any that fall down the sides, throw them on top of the pile as well.
Anything that size and above gets washed.
Anything that size and below goes in the sack.
I like your system.
It's good, ingenuity.
It increases productivity, which means you get paid more.
Yeah! - Do you know how much you get paid? - No.
Sixpence for a day's work.
In modern money that's about £2.
50.
- How does that sound for a day's work? - That's all right.
Good, well, good, that's good.
That's what I like to hear! Keep at it, boys! It's fun listening to these kids enjoying themselves.
It must be said, however, that their Edwardian compatriots would have been made to work in silence.
After all, you do more if you're quiet.
You're concentrating on your work.
So there wouldn't have been quite so much chatter as there is today! Good sack there.
That's a good sack of spuds, that is.
Oh, heavy! Right.
It's been a hard couple of months! Thankfully for us, we've got a day out coming up.
It's the church outing to the seaside! I've been thinking about it for ages! Fingers crossed for the weather.
Historian John Walton is an expert in Edwardian seaside resorts.
For so many ordinary people, this was the chance to have a day out and do what the tourists do.
- Especially if you worked on a farm.
- Exactly.
It was the only time you'd get to do it.
Once a year at best.
And always it would be something like the chapel or church outing.
As it's a Methodist outing, of course, people would be on their best behaviour in all sorts of ways.
You could do a bit of courting on the back seat, but erm Really, you couldn't misbehave too much, including not drinking.
Sorry we're late.
What's this? - It's the seaside.
- Do you like it? - Where did you get them? - Lots of pretty ladies at the seaside.
But the reason we're late is because of this thing on Peter's face.
- You look smart.
- Thank you.
You do look smart.
I'll admit, you do look smart.
Jealous? So where's the charabanc? Charabancs were a popular vehicle for Edwardian group outings.
Their name's French and means "carriage with benches".
OK.
We're ready to go.
Originally they were pulled by a team of horses.
But in the 1900s, motorised charabancs became an exciting new alternative.
It's incredible, isn't it, that brand-new technology like this so quickly becomes something that ordinary people like us are using? Yes, only, of course, in this form.
The coach of the car.
Ordinary private cars were for pretty wealthy people and doctors.
Yeah.
Amazing.
There was a regular route, three times a week, of a charabanc, by 1908, - right through our village.
- That is really early.
And it's because, of course, it is such a touristy area, and the railways didn't go to a lot of the most scenic places.
Look at her.
She's a cracker! Unlike being in a train compartment, you're all together, you can have a singalong.
If it's not a Methodist outing you can even have a crate of beer in the back.
That sounds such fun! Well, that was one version of it.
- But here it's got to be lemonade.
- Lemonade.
Naturally.
- No alcohol? - No.
The team are heading to the Devon resort of Lynton and Lynmouth.
Before the late 19th Century, it was hard to access.
The beach lies at the bottom of a 500-foot cliff.
But a major feat of engineering opened it up to tourists: A funicular railway.
This is a fantastic piece of technology, John.
When was it built? - It opened in 1888.
- Right.
At a time when this sort of thing was being set up all over Britain, all over the coast, - and some inland too.
- Right.
But this is an amazing place to have one.
It was 20 miles from the nearest railway, and really it was in the middle of nowhere.
This is all about tourism.
That's the industry that's taking off? Obviously it's convenient to be able to get from Lynton at the top to Lynmouth at the bottom and back again.
But it's for tourists rather than locals.
And we've actually got some sun, just a tiny little patch of it.
I love the sea.
Don't you? Edwardian Britain had the most developed system of seaside resorts anywhere in the world.
There were almost 150 of them, welcoming millions of visitors each year.
The seaside was packed with distinctive entertainments.
Ladles and jellyfish, we are the Pierrotters.
Huzzah! Tony Lidington manages a troupe of historical performers.
My way.
I've never seen a Pierrot bunch at the seaside.
Is it a particularly Edwardian thing? Well, it started in 1890 in Britain.
My name is Bonnie And they would perform on promenades, and on the beaches, and they'd collect pennies from people sitting around.
Oh! I say, I say, I say.
What do you say? What quivers and lies and the bottom of the ocean? I don't know, what quivers and lies at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck! Ha ha! Ha ha! It's the equivalent today of a kind of indie pop chart, or a kind of stand-up comedy club.
That's where people learnt their trade, as to how to perform in front of the public.
We all do! It's a really distinctive look, isn't it? Yeah.
Well, it comes from the commedia dell'arte originally, and the character of Pedrolino, who used to wear completely white.
So that's the sort of Renaissance street theatre from Italy? Yeah.
The Italian Comedy, some call it.
It's where we get Mr Punch from.
- Is it? - Yeah.
Sing along if you know the words! - Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.
- Thank you very much.
Thank you very much.
Sat here in my blazer and my waistcoat, I'm pretty hot.
I think, dip in the sea.
- Have a Scotch.
- Oh, cheers! Get that down your neck.
That'll sort you out, son.
Ruth! How you doing? They could make these things a bit bigger, couldn't they? Ooh! I don't want to come out! Are we ready for this? One.
Two.
Three! - Oh, come on! - Let's go! You look wonderful, Ruth.
I have extremely sensitive feet.
Why do you do this to us, Peter? Men and women swimming together was a new development on many Edwardian beaches.
For most of the 19th Century, the majority of large resorts enforced segregated bathing.
But in the 1890s, the idea of mixed bathing was taking off, imported from resorts on the Continent.
Oh! I feel better for that.
We could have picked a better bathing beach, but that was fantastic.
Oh, I feel invigorated! Oh! It was good, wasn't it? - It really was.
- Yeah.
Fantastic.
I've certainly built up an appetite now.
I need a good Edwardian bit of grub.
Here we go.
Mr Punch, where are you? I'm over here! It's been quite a classic day at the British seaside, hasn't it? A classic Edwardian day at the British seaside, Peter.
Yeah, well, when you only get one day a year, it's gotta be good, hasn't it? And here we are finishing up the day with fish and chips, that great Edwardian dish.
Now, I'd always thought fish and chips was a more recent dish, you know, '70s, '80s, '90s.
Oh, it developed, really, in the last quarter of the 19th Century, quite explosively, with steam trains, with steam trawlers, with refrigeration, and more popular purchasing power.
So pretty much everyone in England could have had a fish and chip supper at least once.
Oh, erm, probably once a week.
Even people in rural areas could enjoy a fish supper, brought to them by a horse-drawn fish and chip van.
Well, it's been a fantastic July for us, it really has, and to end it with a traditional Edwardian seaside experience has really put the icing on top of the cake.
Hasn't it? But you're not escaping until I've got a photograph of you all.
John, perhaps you could take the picture? - Then we get all three of us.
- That seems a good idea.
Thank you! Ready, boys? - Charming man.
- Charming, yes.
Cheese.
Overground, farmers supplied Britain's growing towns and cities with fresh produce.
Daffodils set for London.
While underground, miners extracted copper and precious minerals.
Firing! Now at Morwellham Quay, archaeologists Alex Langlands and Peter Ginn, and historian Ruth Goodman, are living the lives of Edwardian farmers for a full calendar year.
Oh, look at them! Look at all of them! They're so sweet! They're getting to grips with the rural industries that once brought wealth to Devon.
- Oh! - Oh, wow! We got something! Previously, they've restored the market gardens that once covered the valley You're allowed one, cos these are all for market.
planted a field of potatoes We've just gotta hope that we get some dry weather.
and rounded up a new worker from the wilds of nearby Dartmoor.
One of our most important jobs, trying to start breaking him in.
Now it's July, their busiest month so far.
The team must harvest, from the trees, the land, and the river.
I tell you what, it beats scrubbing floors.
But the potato crop is under threat.
Some of these plants, we're getting a kind of rot on the leaves.
And it's crunch time for the new recruit.
I think this is gonna be a bit heavier than anything he's had before.
When their hard work is complete, they can enjoy a trip to the seaside, Edwardian-style.
Huzzah! Harvest time in the Tamar Valley was the busiest period in the year.
Alex and Peter will need to call on all their resources to bring in the crops.
There'll be a lot to carry, so they're enlisting Laddie, the Dartmoor pony, to help.
Laddie's a workhorse in training.
Until four months ago, he'd spent his whole life roaming wild on the moor.
So this has been the first step in his training.
Just to get this leading.
You know, his head's down, his ears aren't desperately pinned back, you know, he's sort of listening around, and we're pretty happy that he's good to lead now.
One of the reasons these ponies have survived and become such a feature of the rural economy around here is because right up into the Edwardian period, they were carrying out crucial services to the people that lived on and around Dartmoor.
And pack animals, basically, that was their major role, along with carting.
And the first thing we want to do, a bit simpler than carting, is to use the horse to carry panniers.
Basically panniers are baskets that would be laden over the horse's back and they would take, you know, something up to sort of 30, 40 pounds' worth of weight.
These are two sacks that are filled with fleeces.
And this should just act as an introduction, to put baskets on there.
Let him have a sniff.
So, er, here we go.
There you go, boy.
Just sit here for a bit.
I just marvel with this pony, actually.
You know, we just throw a couple of bags on him like this and he's not particularly bothered.
- He's a cool customer, isn't he? - He is.
Do you want to, erm, see how he fares, then? Walk on.
Walk on.
Good boy, Laddie.
He's doing very, very well.
Considering he hasn't had anything on his back before, certainly not walking around like this, he's taken to it really well.
Come on.
The next step is taking Laddie out of the training pen.
I am feeling slightly nervous about this.
It's the first time he's done any work outside this ring.
It's unnerving, you know, everything so far has gone so well with him.
I'm just slightly worried that at the moment he's just being too cool.
The first thing Laddie will have to carry is the cherry crop, the most important July harvest for many Edwardian farmers.
In the 1900s, there were 12,000 acres of cherry orchards across Britain, compared to around 1,000 acres today.
The Tamar Valley was one of the main producers.
Only a handful of the valley's orchards remain, but Alex and Peter are hoping to harvest the valuable fruit.
They need to find one important piece of equipment.
We now need the ladders.
It's critical that we have the ladders.
We can't offer to help out with this cherry harvest without having our own ladder.
It's like turning up to a tennis match without a tennis racket.
Well, we certainly have a selection of those here.
We do.
Cherry ladders varied in design from region to region.
In the Chilterns they splayed out at the bottom.
While in the Tamar Valley, they were straight all the way down.
Wherever they were found, they had to be extremely long, because cherry trees can be up to 70 feet tall.
That is a beast! Of course, the difficult thing, Peter, is getting it out of here.
Ah! Easy.
- It's not gonna go.
- Right.
What do you think? Window? We gotta drop it down into here, haven't we? Yeah.
The problem is I think the building behind us has been built on subsequently.
It's got breeze blocks in there.
So chances are these ladders have never come out! Watch that pane of glass, Peter.
That's it, don't OK, we're under.
Oh! It's coming, it's coming.
We're nearly there, mate.
But it's one thing getting it down.
We've then gotta get it out of that entrance, haven't we? Steady.
Oh! Step one.
OK.
Bring it round.
Yeah.
And hey presto! There we go.
Oh, dear, Peter, I think we've got another problem here.
While the boys prepare for the cherry harvest, Ruth's getting on with another job for July.
So this is a salmon net, the sort used in this river? That's right, yes.
Keeping your nets in good repair would have been important.
Salmon fishing was once a huge industry in the Southwest, with up to 2,000 fish caught on the Tamar every year.
Local fishermen Alex Scoble and Frank Lannion were among the dozens of men who made their living in this way.
It's over the top So how old were you when you first started salmon fishing in this river, then? Oh, when I was going to school.
Really? - You were out as kids? - Oh, yes.
Netting? Netting salmon.
Usually we went with the older salmon fishermen.
- Yeah.
- You know.
I think it was cheap labour, really, cos they never paid the boys very much! Were women ever allowed to go out on the boats? Oh, yes, there's nothing to stop them - Really? - Yeah.
- Sea fishing, they wouldn't let them.
- Yeah, that's right.
But on the river it was a bit different, was it? Well, myself I was superstitious, really.
I didn't like ladies in the boat.
- Didn't you? - No.
He let me and my daughter go with him.
So it's just like, special cases.
Hey! There you go, look at that.
- So can I join you, then, on a fishing trip? - Yeah.
I'll take you up on that.
Mend the net and we'll take you on a fishing trip.
That sounds a good deal to me.
Yes, please! Stuart King is a carpenter who's studied how cherry ladders were made.
Hello, Stuart.
He's come to the farm to help out.
Here is the ladder which I need you to take a look at.
That's a ropey old thing.
It is.
You can see where we've lost a few rungs, and erm Some of them, I think, are a bit past their sell-by date.
- Yeah, so you're looking for a repair, I suppose.
- I am indeed.
And I hear the cherries are getting ripe.
Yeah, and we've gotta get to them before the birds do, so - So it's gotta be a make do and mend job.
- Indeed.
Stuart's using a pole lathe to turn the wood into rungs.
- It's such a fantastic piece of equipment - Yeah.
And so simple as well.
Yeah, and we can trace lathes very similar to this back at least to the Iron Age.
- Right.
- 150 BC.
Almost certainly way beyond that.
Really, all through history from thereon.
That is lovely, that finish.
Never used sandpaper.
Didn't need to.
That's as far as I can go until we measure the size of the hole.
Right, OK.
- So that we can taper those down.
- Yeah.
To fit the hole.
I have just the tool.
Callipers are used to make the measurement.
Holes vary.
Erm, I'm just gonna measure that one with these inside callipers, and that's perfect.
Perfect.
- Shall we try this one? - Yeah.
- Pull the ladder apart for me.
- Just ease apart like that.
Thank you.
Yeah.
- There she is! - There we are.
- Morning! - Morning.
Hello! - Are all the nets ready to go? - Yes, all ready.
- Oh, this is a great boat.
- Yeah.
Either you can throw the net out or row the boat.
- Can I row the boat? - Yeah, certainly you can.
You see, I knew there was a reason my dad taught me to row.
The traditional method of salmon fishing on the Tamar is known as seine netting.
It's one of the oldest occupations on the river.
The net is 600 feet long.
As it's fed into the water, weights along one edge cause it to stretch down to the bottom of the river.
Fish are caught by encircling them in the net.
Seine netting is currently banned on the Tamar, but they've been given permission to attempt it.
A-ha, she's all in! - So I let the boat ride up onto the shore, yeah? - Yeah.
It is just sort of leaning into it, isn't it? - Let your weight do it, rather than pull.
- Yeah, that's right.
I tell you what, it beats scrubbing floors! Salmon could only be caught at certain times of year.
When exactly is the season, then? Well, it did range from March, or about then, March to August.
So what are the chaps doing the rest of the year? Well, usually the men in this part of the valley would go back and work on the market garden.
No, she's empty.
Empty.
When you pull the net in and there's nothing there, they call that a hop out.
Hop out! That's cos all the fish have hopped out.
- So now we load up again and just go again.
- That's right.
- So what's the biggest catch you've ever had? - Well, one cast of the net, 27.
Whoo! - But for one tide - Yeah.
we had 55.
Gosh, that's a lot of fish in one tide.
Out.
Out a bit, Ruth.
Fishing like this has been banned on this river now.
So we've had to get special dispensation to come out and Yes, that's right.
So if we do catch any, we have to put them back in? Yes, yes.
Oh! - A hop out again.
- Hop out.
Hop out, Charlie Peace.
It appeals to the gamblers in life.
Those that like it slow and steady don't turn to fishing.
So it's not just having a woman out with you that's caused this run of bad luck? No comment.
"No comment.
" I like that.
I don't care we didn't get any.
I had a good day.
So have I.
- I've enjoyed your company.
- Aw! Thank you! Proper job.
Well, you know, when they do lift the ban, give me a call, I'll be back.
Yeah, we will.
The cherries are ripe and ready to pick.
Alex and Peter are helping Jessica Collins, who owns one of the few cherry orchards still left in the valley.
Her trees are varieties that were developed in the 19th Century to suit the Southwest's climate.
Norma Chapman grew up harvesting cherries from her father's market garden.
Good morning.
Good morning, Alex.
Hello, Norma.
Nice to see you.
- Hi.
- Hi, Jess.
Nice to see you.
Want to guide me, tell me where to put the ladder? - I'll do my best to do that, yes.
- OK.
Excellent.
Positioning the ladder could be a matter of life or death.
Cherry pickers were injured, and sometimes even killed, falling off them.
And more round this way.
Ah! This tree's at a funny angle.
And the excuses are coming out now.
The curses will be coming out later.
It's the moment of truth for the old ladders.
Feeling pretty sturdy.
If it weren't for those telltale creaks.
First cherries.
It's all right.
That wasn't a rung.
How big was this industry? Well, it was very large, because not many people worked outside the village at all.
Everyone, the families went down through the generations.
And as soon as I was old enough, I left school and I worked with my parents until they retired.
So, as just a family industry, how many cherries were you picking in a season? Well, with helpers on a very heavy season, Dad has picked eight ton.
- Eight tons.
- That's right.
Wow! But on an average it was three to four tons a year off the trees he had.
That's a tremendous amount of cherries! In the 1900s, a ton of cherries could sell for £90, around two years' wages for the average agricultural labourer.
This meant a cherry orchard was often the most valuable part of a farm.
I love the outdoors.
And also particularly cherry time, we used to sing our hearts out up the top of the cherry tree, and it would just echo around the valley! I have to say, there's nowhere I'd rather be on a hot July morning, up here in the treetops, nice cool breeze.
And of course it's also a test of your acrobatic fitness.
Obviously it's dangerous, but at the same time if you just take care, make sure your footings are good and that all the branches you're leaning on are nice and safe, it's actually a pretty good workout for the body.
No yoga classes needed for me tonight.
Up on Dartmoor, the weather's closing in.
Ruth has braved the rain to collect some food for Laddie.
Doesn't look much, does it, gorse, you'd think what the heck can you use that for? But actually, it's pretty darn useful stuff.
Gorse is highly nutritious.
It contains half the protein content of oats, it's free, and it requires no cultivation.
As a result, in areas where it grows wild, many Edwardian farmers fed it to their horses.
Women's work, this.
Some farms would pay a woman to come on up to the moors and cut.
And she'd spend most of the day up here.
If you were good at it and worked hard, the theory was a woman should be able to cut enough gorse in six hours to feed 12 horses.
They eat the little shoots right at the top.
It's really quite sort of luscious stuff.
Further down, of course, it's much harsher.
If you're up here long enough, and you watch the ponies, you see that they not only eat the gorse but they actually sort of prepare it themselves.
They'll pull a piece off like I'm doing, put it down on the ground, and then stamp on it with their hooves.
And that stamping breaks all the sort of spines, which makes it much softer in their mouths to eat.
When I get back down the bottom, I'll have to do a load of stamping myself, just to break it up to make it into good fodder.
We have to pick them at the stalks here.
As soon as the stalk comes out, all the juice runs out.
Of course, if you don't, you can eat them.
Oh! And that one doesn't have a stalk.
Oi, Alex! How full's your cherry basket? Not too bad.
I'd like to say it was half full, but probably looking closer to a third, actually.
Well, you can still see the bottom of my basket.
Is that because more of the cherries you picked are in old tummy tumpkins, Peter? He knows me too well! No, Alex.
Be the ruin of this farm, that boy.
What do you think of the standard of the cherries? There are a few I don't think that one's gonna go to market.
There may be one or two red ones, but on the whole they're very good indeed.
And you haven't broken them.
You've picked them with the stems on, and so they'll carry well.
What would happen to them now? They'd be bought that day? Yes, yes, nine times out of 10, very rarely did they wait till next morning.
- Right.
- The order was gone.
- Right, they were that popular.
- Yes, they were.
And there's probably a reason why they're that popular.
Really good.
I've been really good.
I haven't tasted one.
- Haven't you? - I waited till I got down here, and I'm just gonna give this one, cos it's especially dark Yes, that one will be much sweeter than the others.
- Mmm.
- Mmm! And that is absolutely delicious.
- Doesn't taste like that from the supermarket.
- Not at all.
- That is - Completely different.
That is a taste sensation.
That gets in around the jaws, that does.
That's so sweet.
Mmm! They're incredible.
True Tamar Valley cherries.
Wow! Brilliant.
How are you getting on, Peter? I've got a little bit of tummy ache! And not very many cherries! Oh, dear.
I'm gonna head off now and go and get Laddie, the pony.
And we're gonna charge him with carrying these panniers full of all this produce.
Yes.
So I'll say a big thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thanks ever so much for your time.
Thanks for letting us get involved, Jess.
That was brilliant.
Fantastic.
I'll let you fill that up.
I'll go and get the pony.
I thought in order to sort of calm Laddie down so he wasn't too skittish, get him in a good mood, I'd get him really full.
Anybody with a really full stomach tends to take things a little calmer.
That's my theory, anyway.
And you can see all the green, juicy sap being released.
When you look at it straight on the bunch, it looks as dry as anything, but bash it a bit and, you can see, it's actually quite succulent.
Oh, is that better? Are you feeling good now, eh? - Hello, Ruth.
- How's the cherry harvest going? Fantastic.
Beautiful juicy cherries we have.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
- But how's Laddie? - Full of gorse! - But he's ready for work? - Yeah, I think so.
Well, this is the big one.
He's gonna help us get these cherries back from the orchard.
Alex is taking Laddie to meet up with Peter and the cherries.
You see, this is what made this creature so great down here in the Southwest, because the advantage of him was quite simply that he could take a straighter route from A to B than a cart could.
You can undoubtedly get more in a cart but with a cart with wheels you were always in danger on these steep slopes of running away from yourself.
But the pony, of course Come on, walk on.
Well, they could go anywhere that a human could go.
Doesn't matter how steep the valley sides were, they'd be able to cross them, so they wouldn't have to make massive detours to bridges and much easier inclines to carry produce.
Feeling sorry for Laddie.
This is quite a weight.
Steady.
- Hello, Peter.
- Hi.
Here he is.
And here are the cherry panniers.
Right.
OK.
Now, this is the tricky bit.
I think this is gonna be a bit heavier than anything he's had before.
- I've got the edge of this one.
- Got that one? And I just hope he's gonna be all right with this weight.
What do you reckon, fella? Eh? Walk on.
- Come on, Laddie.
- Come on, Laddie.
Good boy.
First day of work.
How does it feel? Come on, good lad, good lad.
These panniers do seem to be working out really, really well.
And he's just taken to this like a duck to water.
It's amazing.
It really is.
You would not really fathom the fact that he was a wild pony on Dartmoor merely a couple of months ago, and now he's an integral part of our farm team.
He's the guy doing all the work.
Good boy, Laddie.
Good boy.
At the cottage, Ruth's making sure the cherries last.
We can't possibly eat that many fresh.
So I thought I'd preserve a whole load for the rest of the summer.
Reminds me of being a kid, doing this.
My mum's a great gardener.
And we always had oodles and oodles and oodles of soft fruit.
And her and I would sit outside the back door on a sunny day, on a chair, a giant bowl of fruit between us, and chat.
And prepare all the fruit.
So I just need some sugar.
Now if you read a recipe, they will start telling you you need this many pints and this many pounds of sugar.
I think that's really misleading, because what you need is enough sugar to create the right thickness of syrup for your fruit.
If your fruit's got loads of water in it, that's gonna go out into the syrup and make a watery syrup.
If your fruit's a bit drier, if you've had a hot summer with no rain, then you're gonna need a completely different amount of water, as against sugar.
So I always think the best way is to ignore the recipe and look at it.
And as the fruit cook they're gonna sort of gently release the water that's in them.
So I should be able to see how watery it's going.
And then I can add sugar until it looks the right sort of thickness, until, basically, the sugar doesn't dissolve.
If it starts to feel gritty in the pan as I'm stirring it, stop adding sugar.
So if I put that on that corner there, so they'll just very gently sweat in there.
Right, there, they're done.
Now, if there was a secret ingredient in this recipe, this would have to be it the jar.
But by the Edwardian period, very cheap, readily available glass jars were on the market, by a number of makers, but particularly the Kilner jar.
Kilner jars revolutionised home preserving.
Invented in the 1840s, this system of jars had airtight seals and interchangeable parts, so any lid would fit on any jar.
You wouldn't think something like a different sort of jar would make such a difference to ordinary people's diets, but it did.
If you can preserve your own fruits and jams easily and cheaply, then the amount of vitamin C that an ordinary family can get through the winter just rises enormously, doesn't it? I mean, we're so used to being able to get fresh stuff from all over the world, but in the Edwardian period, preserved fruit and veg was relatively new in common people's diets.
And this is the format it was most often in.
So there's my cherries in my jar.
Rubber seal on the top.
And my glass lid.
Slips on over.
And a screw top.
And of course, because it's gone in hot, as it cools, I get a vacuum.
And that will help the preservation.
And we shall be eating cherry puddings, cherry pies, for ages.
Bringing in the cherries was cause for huge celebration in the Tamar Valley.
Throughout the Edwardian period, a local landowner hosted an annual party for the children on his estate.
This was known as the cherry feast.
There you go.
Cherry pies.
Hello, chaps.
Take a seat.
It was often attended by a rector from the Church of England.
Well, I think, boys, you should take off your caps.
You're going to say your prayers.
Let us pray.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit Reverend Lamb is the rector of nearby parish St Mellion.
may the Lord make us truly thankful.
- Amen.
- Amen.
- Would anyone like a cup of tea? - Yes, please.
- One, two - The cherry feast was specific to this locality but at the same time fairly typical of local harvest celebrations.
Mm.
It's very much sort of an establishment thing, isn't it? You've got the lord of the manor or the equivalent - the owners of the estate - putting on these sorts of feasts.
And you get the established Church being involved.
Well, the vast majority, of course, of the cherry orchards were owned by the large landowners.
And it was a way of saying thank you, for the tremendous effort they'd put in.
This child has not finished his pie.
An unseemly waste of good, good food! - He needs more tea, that's what it is.
- Oh, dear me.
A little more tea, a little more tea to wash it down.
This sort of food, I mean, cake and pie and cream, this would have been quite a treat.
Oh, huge, yeah.
And also the great fun of eating outdoors.
A street party atmosphere, it would have been.
But they would have been on their best behaviour.
- Even so! - Even so, yeah.
Harvest celebrations were a welcome break for Edwardian farmers.
Rural workers'holidays were few and far between.
Many farmers only had one day out a year.
So that's the cherry harvest over and done with.
Yeah.
It's potatoes next.
I have a little thing to cheer us up.
The church day outing at the seaside.
- Really? - Yeah, yeah, yeah! - Our Methodist chapel at the seaside! - Oh, fantastic! - Yeah, but - What? - I don't know.
- What? You're gonna have to smarten up, Peter.
Well They wouldn't let you on the beach like that.
Don't worry, mate, I'll get you a suit.
A suit to die for.
Before the team can embark on their beach escapade, there's the potato harvest to bring in.
But conditions on the farm have not been ideal and Alex has spotted a problem.
He's decided to get an expert to check the crop.
Well, this is the potato crop.
Francis Mudge has a lifetime's experience of farming in Devon, and has been advising the team throughout the year.
Well, thanks for coming down, Mr Mudge.
Just want to get your opinion on this.
I'm really concerned that some of these plants, we're getting a kind of rot on the leaves.
Yeah, you've got a bit of blight just coming in.
- It's blight, isn't it? - Yeah.
And blight is so bad for potatoes.
Blight is caused by a fungus-like organism which has spores that are carried through water or air.
They infect the plant's leaves, causing its cells to collapse.
Blight frequently destroyed potato crops.
But there are emergency steps the boys can take.
If you cut the tops off now, you'll save the potato.
- But - Right.
- He, he won't grow no more.
- Right.
They may be a bit on the small side, but it's better to have a small potato than - Than no potato.
- Than no potato at all.
Right, then we've actually gotta behead all these plants.
Take all of these plants off.
- Take, cut them off.
- Right.
Including ones without blight? Well, yeah, because it them are liable to catch it.
Blight thrives in warm, humid and rainy conditions.
This must have been the potato grower's greatest fear, a summer of rain like this.
- Typical Devonshire weather, you know? - Right.
They say sunny Devon, but you still get the rain, you know? - Yeah.
- Sunny Devon! - I've heard that one too many times.
- You have, have you? I have to say, so far I've been really proud of this potato crop, but I have, in many ways, forgotten about blight, potato blight.
It's really probably one of the most famous diseases, and it's caused what we might term almost sort of medieval-like famines during the 19th Century, and there would have been people in Edwardian England and Ireland who would have remembered the great famines of the 1840s, the great Irish potato famines.
So you can imagine farmers with that memory stepping out into the field, seeing the rain.
And you could watch the colour drain from their faces as they observe the blight taking hold on their potato crop.
Knowing that one more year, they're gonna lose that harvest.
For us, I'm hoping, with these plants gone, we're gonna be able to lift these potatoes, and keep them free and safe from the blight.
The boys must wait for a spell of dry weather before harvesting the potatoes.
If they're lifted in the rain they'll be covered in mud, making a huge amount of work to clean and dry them.
To bring in the summertime crops, many farmers enlisted extra help.
Ruth's found one potential source.
We need some labour for our potato harvest.
Cheap labour.
That means child labour.
And like many Edwardian farmers, we've got our eye on them! They are the cheapest labour about.
It's not difficult work, it just needs lots of little hands.
Children's labour had always been central to the rural economy.
Their work, whether it be picking the harvest, clearing stones off the fields, scaring birds, had always been the little bit of extra labour that tipped the balance, that made the difference between a farm being economic and not economic.
Sit.
In the 1900s, Morwellham had a village school.
Put your hands together, bow your heads in reverence, and close your eyes.
Valerie Aldred is a teacher who re-enacts classes from the past.
In the classroom there would have been probably around 60 children.
Depending on the time of the year, because in the summer, when the harvesting was taking place, most of the boys would have been out on the fields, doing their jobs, or helping their fathers.
And the schoolmarm probably would have turned a blind eye.
confirm the authority of the mother over the sons.
Around the turn of the century, there was a shift in the way people thought about schools.
For the first time, many began to believe that children's education was more important than their jobs.
From the 1870s onwards, a series of laws made schooling both compulsory and free.
The school leaving age rose but there was still a demand for children to work.
When I say the words "commence" The school leaving age was raised to 12, but if the children were able to pass their standard exam, at the age of perhaps 10 and a half, then they were allowed to leave.
So the pressure on children to get through that exam from their families could be intense.
Maybe at 10 and a half you could be bringing in money that made the difference between meat once a week and meat never.
But only if you could pass the exam.
And immediately I can see that one or two of you have improved and one or two of you need to practise a great deal more.
Practice makes perfect.
Repeat.
Practice makes perfect.
And again Discipline was extremely important, bearing in mind that, of course, adults were superior to children, children should be seen and not heard, and speech is silver, silence is golden, and the schoolmarm was queen, absolutely, and the children did what they were told or they were punished.
They'd probably be quite glad.
Have a bit of running around in the mud.
Once the potatoes are harvested, the team will head off for a trip to the seaside.
Ruth's called in an expert to help her prepare.
Luca Costigliolo is a costume designer who specialises in historical clothing.
Hello.
Luca! He's come to show Ruth how to make one crucial garment.
I've always really fancied one of these bathing suits, I don't know why.
- They could be made by anyone at home.
- By anybody.
Yeah.
Edwardian swimming costumes were made from woven fabrics, such as wool crepe.
I've always been fascinated with the idea of wearing wool at the seaside.
I've always wondered what happens when you come out of the water.
How, you know, how baggy the costume will become, and Yeah.
So I'm just going to cut the pattern out.
The design of women's swimming costumes was fraught with controversy in the Edwardian period.
Victorian women had worn bathing dresses, which when wet, could weigh up to 30 pounds, making it difficult, and even dangerous, to swim.
But around 1900, a new one-piece costume appeared, dubbed "the skin suit".
Only the most daring women would wear it.
Luca's chosen a more traditional option for Ruth.
I decided to go for a two-piece.
You know, a little blouse with a belt, and some bloomers.
I think it, er OK, I'm ready to cut the cloth now.
Bright red, what a choice of colour! I think it's quite a nice colour to wear at the seaside.
I mean, I don't think anyone was really supposed to be that attractive in these kind of clothes.
- It's not a sunbathing suit, is it? - No, not at all.
- It's for wearing in the water.
- Exactly.
Let's get the needles out.
When are you going to the seaside? Well, next week I think is the plan.
Oh, where, where? It's a town called Lynmouth.
I'm so sorry that I'm not going to be there seeing you bathing in the sea in this.
Right, I'm ready to go on the machine.
- Yeah? - Yes.
- Look! - Ooh! I love the gold foliage.
"The length of stitch, as well as the forward and backward stitch, is controlled by the stitch regulator handle A.
See illustration.
" Sewing machines were indispensable to many Edwardian women.
Though ready-made clothes could be bought in department stores, a lot of women still preferred to make their own.
I love these old machines.
But I mean look how beautifully they're bobbing.
- It's just so precise.
- It's just engineering precision, isn't it? Once you get into the rhythm of it, you can go quite fast.
The weather's been clear for several days and the ground has dried out.
At last the boys have a window to harvest the potatoes.
Local farmer David Udy has brought along his potato lifter.
This type of plough was invented in the mid-19th Century when potatoes began to be grown on a large scale.
Bit stony just as you go in here.
Oh, look at that, look at this bountiful crop.
A river of potatoes.
I'm just overjoyed to see that we don't have any signs of blight on the potatoes, so it was definitely worthwhile cutting the heads off.
But the lifting plough is struggling to dig out all the plants.
It's just about getting this plough to the right depth so that we get underneath the plants and lift them all out.
I mean, it's a fairly heavy-duty piece of kit, isn't it, these ploughs? Fortunately, David's brought along another contraption, a potato digger.
Wow, look at that, what a piece of kit! - Well, we'll see what it can do.
- Yeah.
Potato diggers were another device that first appeared in the 1850s, but it took decades to perfect the design.
They came into common use around the turn of the century.
- This is lethal! - Walk on, boys.
Can't see this passing modern health and safety legislation.
Oh! It's raining potatoes! Look at that, and it's not missing a potato either, is it? Fantastic.
The digger lifts the potatoes totally clear of the soil.
This was a big advance for farmers.
For the first time they had a machine that left their crop cleanly on the surface of the field.
Smashing.
Steady, boys.
Steady, whoa! - So this is a much more clinical exercise.
- Oh, yeah, very much so, yeah.
Yeah, big improvement on the other machine.
It's almost like a funfair ride for the potatoes! We'll make a farmer of you yet, Peter.
Gently does it.
Oh! Smashing.
Steady, boys.
So there we go, that job was a lot quicker than I thought it would be.
- Doesn't take long, does it? - It doesn't with this piece of kit.
It did a very good job.
It must have been quite revolutionary when these turned up on British farms.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
And it's got on "Britain's best machine".
Is it Britain's best machine? Well, I'll vouch for that.
But before the team can get the potatoes in, the weather's turned against them.
It's terrible timing for the crop, which is now covered in mud, and in danger of rotting in the field.
The schoolchildren are quickly pressed into service.
OK, down to the bottom first.
Bottom of the field first.
Always easier to work uphill.
Even the very smallest potatoes need picking up, OK? Ones you wouldn't even consider eating.
We don't want any spuds left behind.
We want a really clean pick.
Absolutely every potato, even the smallest potatoes.
They'll grow back next year.
We don't want them to grow back next year, because they'll carry disease on, year after year, so we've got to pick up every single potato.
This really isn't the potato harvest I'd envisaged.
I was looking forward to blazing sunlight, lovely dry, friable soil, clean potatoes.
Sun on your back.
But unfortunately it's sheeting down.
This really isn't the weather in which you want to be picking potatoes.
I can't move! My shoes are full of mud.
Well, scrape it off.
Less talk, more action.
More baskets here.
Chop chop, lads.
Obviously, Alex right now has his own little army.
A bit like Fagin.
You're slow! Come on, we've gotta get this field done by the end of the day.
It's full? Go on, then, run it up to the farmyard.
Chop chop! Right, you two standing around doing nothing, that one can go up the top, please.
The new education laws, and advances in machinery, meant that the use of child labour on farms began to fall.
But potato picking remained a job that couldn't be done by machine.
This is very hard work.
And I'd say that these baskets are weighing somewhere between 20 and 30 kilos each.
And we've been taking loads off the field.
So we are gonna get, I reckon a couple of tons coming off of here.
Spuds coming out of our ears.
OK.
Get them dry, then, fellas.
It is a quagmire.
Presentation was crucial to the Edwardian consumer.
Muddy potatoes would have been difficult to sell.
Any that fall down the sides, throw them on top of the pile as well.
Anything that size and above gets washed.
Anything that size and below goes in the sack.
I like your system.
It's good, ingenuity.
It increases productivity, which means you get paid more.
Yeah! - Do you know how much you get paid? - No.
Sixpence for a day's work.
In modern money that's about £2.
50.
- How does that sound for a day's work? - That's all right.
Good, well, good, that's good.
That's what I like to hear! Keep at it, boys! It's fun listening to these kids enjoying themselves.
It must be said, however, that their Edwardian compatriots would have been made to work in silence.
After all, you do more if you're quiet.
You're concentrating on your work.
So there wouldn't have been quite so much chatter as there is today! Good sack there.
That's a good sack of spuds, that is.
Oh, heavy! Right.
It's been a hard couple of months! Thankfully for us, we've got a day out coming up.
It's the church outing to the seaside! I've been thinking about it for ages! Fingers crossed for the weather.
Historian John Walton is an expert in Edwardian seaside resorts.
For so many ordinary people, this was the chance to have a day out and do what the tourists do.
- Especially if you worked on a farm.
- Exactly.
It was the only time you'd get to do it.
Once a year at best.
And always it would be something like the chapel or church outing.
As it's a Methodist outing, of course, people would be on their best behaviour in all sorts of ways.
You could do a bit of courting on the back seat, but erm Really, you couldn't misbehave too much, including not drinking.
Sorry we're late.
What's this? - It's the seaside.
- Do you like it? - Where did you get them? - Lots of pretty ladies at the seaside.
But the reason we're late is because of this thing on Peter's face.
- You look smart.
- Thank you.
You do look smart.
I'll admit, you do look smart.
Jealous? So where's the charabanc? Charabancs were a popular vehicle for Edwardian group outings.
Their name's French and means "carriage with benches".
OK.
We're ready to go.
Originally they were pulled by a team of horses.
But in the 1900s, motorised charabancs became an exciting new alternative.
It's incredible, isn't it, that brand-new technology like this so quickly becomes something that ordinary people like us are using? Yes, only, of course, in this form.
The coach of the car.
Ordinary private cars were for pretty wealthy people and doctors.
Yeah.
Amazing.
There was a regular route, three times a week, of a charabanc, by 1908, - right through our village.
- That is really early.
And it's because, of course, it is such a touristy area, and the railways didn't go to a lot of the most scenic places.
Look at her.
She's a cracker! Unlike being in a train compartment, you're all together, you can have a singalong.
If it's not a Methodist outing you can even have a crate of beer in the back.
That sounds such fun! Well, that was one version of it.
- But here it's got to be lemonade.
- Lemonade.
Naturally.
- No alcohol? - No.
The team are heading to the Devon resort of Lynton and Lynmouth.
Before the late 19th Century, it was hard to access.
The beach lies at the bottom of a 500-foot cliff.
But a major feat of engineering opened it up to tourists: A funicular railway.
This is a fantastic piece of technology, John.
When was it built? - It opened in 1888.
- Right.
At a time when this sort of thing was being set up all over Britain, all over the coast, - and some inland too.
- Right.
But this is an amazing place to have one.
It was 20 miles from the nearest railway, and really it was in the middle of nowhere.
This is all about tourism.
That's the industry that's taking off? Obviously it's convenient to be able to get from Lynton at the top to Lynmouth at the bottom and back again.
But it's for tourists rather than locals.
And we've actually got some sun, just a tiny little patch of it.
I love the sea.
Don't you? Edwardian Britain had the most developed system of seaside resorts anywhere in the world.
There were almost 150 of them, welcoming millions of visitors each year.
The seaside was packed with distinctive entertainments.
Ladles and jellyfish, we are the Pierrotters.
Huzzah! Tony Lidington manages a troupe of historical performers.
My way.
I've never seen a Pierrot bunch at the seaside.
Is it a particularly Edwardian thing? Well, it started in 1890 in Britain.
My name is Bonnie And they would perform on promenades, and on the beaches, and they'd collect pennies from people sitting around.
Oh! I say, I say, I say.
What do you say? What quivers and lies and the bottom of the ocean? I don't know, what quivers and lies at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck! Ha ha! Ha ha! It's the equivalent today of a kind of indie pop chart, or a kind of stand-up comedy club.
That's where people learnt their trade, as to how to perform in front of the public.
We all do! It's a really distinctive look, isn't it? Yeah.
Well, it comes from the commedia dell'arte originally, and the character of Pedrolino, who used to wear completely white.
So that's the sort of Renaissance street theatre from Italy? Yeah.
The Italian Comedy, some call it.
It's where we get Mr Punch from.
- Is it? - Yeah.
Sing along if you know the words! - Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen.
- Thank you very much.
Thank you very much.
Sat here in my blazer and my waistcoat, I'm pretty hot.
I think, dip in the sea.
- Have a Scotch.
- Oh, cheers! Get that down your neck.
That'll sort you out, son.
Ruth! How you doing? They could make these things a bit bigger, couldn't they? Ooh! I don't want to come out! Are we ready for this? One.
Two.
Three! - Oh, come on! - Let's go! You look wonderful, Ruth.
I have extremely sensitive feet.
Why do you do this to us, Peter? Men and women swimming together was a new development on many Edwardian beaches.
For most of the 19th Century, the majority of large resorts enforced segregated bathing.
But in the 1890s, the idea of mixed bathing was taking off, imported from resorts on the Continent.
Oh! I feel better for that.
We could have picked a better bathing beach, but that was fantastic.
Oh, I feel invigorated! Oh! It was good, wasn't it? - It really was.
- Yeah.
Fantastic.
I've certainly built up an appetite now.
I need a good Edwardian bit of grub.
Here we go.
Mr Punch, where are you? I'm over here! It's been quite a classic day at the British seaside, hasn't it? A classic Edwardian day at the British seaside, Peter.
Yeah, well, when you only get one day a year, it's gotta be good, hasn't it? And here we are finishing up the day with fish and chips, that great Edwardian dish.
Now, I'd always thought fish and chips was a more recent dish, you know, '70s, '80s, '90s.
Oh, it developed, really, in the last quarter of the 19th Century, quite explosively, with steam trains, with steam trawlers, with refrigeration, and more popular purchasing power.
So pretty much everyone in England could have had a fish and chip supper at least once.
Oh, erm, probably once a week.
Even people in rural areas could enjoy a fish supper, brought to them by a horse-drawn fish and chip van.
Well, it's been a fantastic July for us, it really has, and to end it with a traditional Edwardian seaside experience has really put the icing on top of the cake.
Hasn't it? But you're not escaping until I've got a photograph of you all.
John, perhaps you could take the picture? - Then we get all three of us.
- That seems a good idea.
Thank you! Ready, boys? - Charming man.
- Charming, yes.
Cheese.