Owd John and the Pig Running Game

In our early days in the village, that is the 1970s, Harley was a more agricultural village than it is now in 2024. There were five farmhouses in the village. These were, Forge Farm, Harley House Farm, Grove Farm, Harley Farm and the former dairy farmhouse known as The Mill House although the real Mill House stands at the lowest point of the village close to the main road and the Harley Brook for good reason. 

The working village farms in 1973 meant more machinery passing up and down Domas Lane and a village full of animals. On several occasions there have been flocks of sheep grazing happily on the front lawn of Glebe Cottage as well as the occasional cow. Cows were frequently herded up and down the lane with Mary Brookshaw or myself standing guard at our gateless drive.

The Forge Field opposite, next to Jim’s ramshackle barn complex, was often home to pigs. Huge ones. Cambridge hybrids so Jim said. Looking after this wild herd of barbed toothed monsters was Owd John. At least that’s what Cyril called him. Except that at the time he was far from old. I still see him thirty years later in Cressage still looking not that old, he could well have been in his twenties. Hardly ‘Owd.’

But that wasn’t the funniest. Every other day or so, Owd John would feed the pigs. Now this was quite an event, rivaling bull running and rodeo.  First Owd John would appear in the Forge Field with a large bag of pig nuts on his back and wielding a long handled brush. At this point we would go upstairs to get a better grandstand view. The pigs were snorting and pawing behind the gate into the field, which Owd John would suddenly open and run. Running it seemed for his life, throwing pig nuts over his shoulder. Of course, as some pigs stopped to eat and some didn’t, Owd John would run in a circle attempting to get back to the gate uneaten. The last few strides saw at least one pig with savagedly bared fangs snapping at his heels with Owd John trying to fend it off with the brush. To see him back safely behind the gate was a great relief.

I have several calm photographs of the pigs looking over the wall with front trotters hanging looking cute. People used to bring their children specially down the lane to see them.