My Memories of Mirfield

Richard Teague (1926 - 2011)

 
This text is on pages 29-30 of "The Book of Grampound with Creed" by Amy Bane and Mary Oliver (1998)

Mirfield was the home of my paternal grandparents, John Henry and Elizabeth Teague. Elizabeth died in 1914, before I was born, and John Henry died in 1928, when I was just two, so I cannot remember him.

On his death, Mirfield was left to his family of four sons and two daughters. The holding, of two meadows at Mirfield (known as Treglines Meadows), and five or six at the top of the village, was taken over by my father, Joseph Stephens Teague, who lived at the Post Office (now known as The Olde Post Office), and Mirfield was occupied by his two sisters, Helena Evangeline (Eva) and Ethel Annie (Ethel).

In the early to mid '30s father gave up the holding. Aunty Ethel married Thomas Kemp, a carpenter, and went to live at the top of the village, and Auntie Eva moved into Treglines Cottage. Mirfield and the meadows were let. It was during the years 1928-1933? that I spent quite a lot of time at Mirfield ‘helping ' my father.

Treglines Meadows were used for pig rearing, egg production and for any cows which were calving and needed to be looked after more intensively. The fields at the top of the village fed cows, more pigs and fowls, and one or two fields would be 'stopped up' for hay during the early summer. There were two sheds at Mirfield which were used as cow houses although one of them had a stall for 'Fly', the pony. The cows were driven up and down through the village which was no problem in those days - there was much less traffic sixty and more years ago! There were also pig sties, a traphouse and a hay shed in the mowhay and another pig sty/cattle shed in the field. Water for the stock at the top of the village came from the roofs of the buildings into a concrete tank. During dry spells water had to be carted up from Mirfield by means of a large wooden barrel in a cart pulled by Fly. This was also the means of disposing of the heap of manure from Mirfield yard which was then spread (by hand) over the fields.

My aunts' job was to put the milk to stand in enamel bowls, to allow the 'ream' In rise to the surface, and then the milk would be heated over pans of water on the kitchen range to allow the ‘ream’ to thicken into real Cornish Cream. The skimmed milk would then be used for stock feed (calves, piglets etc.) or sold cheaply to poorer inhabitants of the village. They were also responsible for feeding the poultry, picking up eggs, butter making and sometimes would do some of the milking as well, and, of course they acted as shop-keepers for the dairy produce sold from the house. Sometimes I would sleep at my aunt's, either at Mirfield or later at Treglines Cottage. This was a real treat as she had very soft feather mattresses and eiderdowns and when one got into bed, one was almost completely enveloped in feather-filled bedding - very, very warm! The lane from the main road to Treglines Meadows passed the Blacksmith's Shop worked by Frank Miners and his son Stuart. This was another place where a boy could spend many hours watching the various bits of farm machinery being made or repaired, and horses being shod. If they were not too busy I might also be allowed to turn the bellows and watch the fire come alive to soften the iron to be worked.

Signs in, or attached to the outside of Mr. Miners' house declared him to be an official agent of (one or both - I cannot quite remember) the C.T.C. Cyclists Touring Club and the N.C.U. National Cycling Union. Some of the spares and tools for this part of their business were kept in a store in the north end of the smithy where, I understand, the tenants of Trewithen Estate properties at one time, paid their dues to the Trewithen agent. Mr. and Mrs. Miners lived in the house below The Dolphin, now part demolished and part incorporated into The Dolphin. On the opposite side of the lane to the Blacksmith's Shop was Mr Miners' garden. At the end of the garden nearest to the meadow, was a flight of steps leading to an elevated path where there was a clothes-line where Mrs Miners dried her washing. As the traffic was so light, crossing the road with a basket of wet washing was no problem!

When my father gave up the holding, my close association with Mirfield ended, that is - until I bought it and moved in, in 1953.