From 1946 to 1948 I worked in Eire, reclaiming the poorest farm I've ever seen, even among the barren areas of that island of extremes. That farm in the hills of County Wick-low couldn't carry a single worm in its thin, farmed-out slopes. I scratched and dug in every field of its 700 acres in search of the worms which would tell me which field could grow a crop while I tried to build the fertility of the rest. But there wasn't a worm to be found, except under stones in the kitchen garden, where some hens had set the soil fertility cycle in motion.
Taking a deep interest in my proposals for that farm—which incidentally were also the concern of the late Sir Albert Howard, who spent some time there with me and joined in the unsuccessful search for worms—was one of the most experienced and respected agricultural experts in Ireland, Dr. Henry Kennedy. He shared with me the view that what the farm needed to restore its fertility, as did, and still do, vast areas of the rest of Ireland, was first-class leys and plenty of cattle to graze them. But the key to those fertility-forming pastures, said Dr. Kennedy, was phosphates. 'I agree with everything you say about restoring the fertility of that farm,' he said, 'but plus a little slag! You'll never grow clover there without basic slag. Get the cycle started with phosphates and you can go on and make it fertile by organic methods thereafter.' And of course, as far as orthodox experience and knowledge had then gone, that was a very sober argument. And coming from such an authority as Dr. Kennedy no one in Ireland would have thought of questioning it. Certainly no one had had the courage to try an alternative system against it. But though I was the 'new boy' in Ireland, who dared to question this argument, I felt I was an old hand in England at establishing a fertile pasture. I had already made many acres of first-class leys, on phosphate-deficient soils, entirely by organic methods.
So, though I may then have appeared to be disrespectful of an expert Irish authority (I may say I acquired considerable respect and admiration for Dr. Kennedy in the years that followed—though not for his slag!) I told him I would grow good leys with plenty of clover and I would use no slag or other chemical manures. And in three years from scratch we had established the best leys that had ever been seen in that district ; and I believe with the foreman who had worked on that farm for thirty years—'the best in the whole of the Emerald Oile!'
This is what we did:
I decided that the best crop to start the fertility-building process and to produce an income at the same time, without taking anything out of the soil, would be sugar beet. It was quite a remunerative crop at that time and had the advantage of not robbing the soil. Indeed its deep roots would start immediately to tap the subsoil to bring minerals and trace elements to the beet leaves which were later to be added to the top soil when they were disced in. So far from robbing the soil, it added to it by utilizing it to a greater depth than any other cash crop. The cultivation and organic manuring necessary to get a good crop of sugar beet provided a wonderful opportunity to clean the field and lay good foundations for the establishment of the temporary pasture.
Sugar-beet growing also gave us the right to draw, from the sugar-beet factory, pulp, which was in great demand and for which priority was given to growers. By getting all the pulp back from our own beet, and by feeding the tops on, or discing them in, all that would be taken off the field was the very small proportion of sugar in the crop, as well, of course, as moisture (which in Ireland is in plentiful supply from the skies, so we were quite well able to spare that!). The subsoil minerals raised by the roots and deposited in the leaves were ample recompense for removal of the sugar.
The first step—whatever the state of the land or the previous crop (or half-crop, as was then the case on that farm)—was to prepare a seed bed and clean the land. Where my weed-mulch fallow was possible in the summer preceding cropping with beet, this was taken—but in most cases we wished to get straight into cropping and so we only had the autumn, winter and early spring to prepare the ground.
So autumn ploughing was the first step. The ground was not friable enough, except on one small field that had the summer fallow, to prepare it by discing only. If we had had the rotary hoe in those days, that would have been the tool for all operations. But we ploughed just deep enough to turn everything over, without putting it so deep that we lost the benefit of such vegetation as there was, to the top soil. Then we disced periodically as the furrows greened over with growth.
Three tons an acre of ground limestone were then spread.
Meantime a major operation of compost-making was in progress. A five-ton lorry was engaged almost continuously hauling farmyard manure from the many heaps that official propaganda had persuaded local farmers was hardly worth the trouble while they could buy chemical manures. Indeed, one small farmer thanked a friend of mine who was buying farmyard manure in another part of Ireland and said: 'This money will enable me to buy some artificials.'
On farm after farm in the neighbourhood were large dung-heaps which had accumulated over the years—in many cases overgrown with weeds to become a baby mountain in the middle of the farm, serving no other purpose than to train the rooster and his 'chirpers' for an 'Everest expedition'! And these heaps I bought for a few kind words and the joy of seeing them moved to make way for more.
At the nearby forestry department of a large estate was also fifty years' accumulation of sawdust, much of it black and rotted; this we had for the fetching. Mixed in layers alternately with bracken (of which we had large quantities on totally neglected parts of the farm) and farmyard manure, gave us perfect materials for starting the cycle which Dr. Kennedy was adamant could only be started with basic slag.
We built our compost-heaps in sections 10 ft. square, rising to a height of 6 ft. and in layers which were roughly as follows:
At the base: 10 in. of bracken
then: 10 in. of fairly green
farmyard manure
3 in. of sawdust
A sprinkle over the whole
of ground limestone
3 in. of bracken
3 in. of FYM
3 in. of sawdust
A sprinkle of ground limestone
and repeating 3 inches bracken, 3 inches F Y M, 3 inches sawdust, a sprinkling of ground limestone, until the desired height was reached, then topping off with sawdust.
The heap was built lightly, as far as possible without being walked on—so that ample air was incorporated to allow the necessary aerobic bacterial activity to develop and to avoid the necessity to turn the heap. Sufficient air was incorporated during the building of the heap, without causing the heap to become too dry, so it was not necessary to turn the heap at all. This is specially so when the finished compost is to be applied as a surface mulch, or just disced into the top soil, where, in the presence of ample air, atmospheric nitrogen, and moisture, the process of decomposition can continue. Indeed, I believe that by these methods it is better that the compost should not be completely mature at the time of application, so that the heat-generating and organic-acid-releasing process of decay can continue in the top soil to set free the insoluble minerals in the soil. It is most important that any compost containing sawdust should not be ploughed under. If it is, the soil is robbed of nitrogen necessary for the continuing decomposition of the sawdust, which can rarely be completely broken down in the compost-heap that is not turned. Spread on the top soil, and lightly incorporated in the top soil with disc harrow or rotary hoe, sufficient nitrogen is gathered from the atmosphere to operate the decomposition of any kind of sawdust. So keep sawdust-compost always on top and you cannot go wrong.
We added no moisture to the heap while building it, for in Ireland, as in England, sufficient rain falls in a normal year to provide adequate moisture for the heap.
After approximately six months in the heap we spread the compost on the disced field at the rate of fifteen tons an acre. (Remember that we were dealing with quite barren soil—I think ten tons an acre sufficient on normal soils.) Following the spreading of the compost we disced the field repeatedly to get it clean before drilling the sugar-beet seed in April.
No other manurial or fertilizer applications were made.
It cannot be said that we had an exceptional crop of sugar beet. This was not to be expected on such poor land; indeed the advisory officer of the beet factory was quite sure that without the fertilizer allocation specially permitted by government edict to all beet growers on signature of their acreage contract, we should not have a crop worth harvesting. We did not take up the fertilizer permit, though some neighbours cursed me for not taking it and selling the 'coupons' to them! The advisory officer tried to press me to use at least some potassic fertilizer, for he was sure the sugar content of the beet would be too low without it.
In fact, when the beet was harvested we had quite an average crop for the season; and in a season when sugar contents were well below average, our sugar content was well above the average and one of the best in that area for many years.
We left the beet tops on the field, ate off half with sheep and disced-in the other half. The sheep stayed continuously on the field, being folded across it, so that all their dung and urine went back to the field. The difference in subsequent crops (wheat then ley) between the section with tops disced in and that on which the sheep were folded was indistinguishable, so that in the consideration of relative fertility contribution between discing-in and eating-on, both methods are equal. There would, of course, be the liveweight gain of the sheep to show some financial advantage for the eating-on method; and I am satisfied that there would be an appreciable difference in subsequent crops in favour of eating the tops on the ground compared with ploughing-in, because the sugar-beet leaf would quickly putrefy and its manurial value be lost, if put underground out of reach of aerobic bacteria.
As soon as the whole field was disced after clearance of the sugar beet, winter wheat was sown. If sugar-beet harvesting was delayed or the folding of sheep took us too far into the winter to crop comfortably with winter wheat, the discing was repeated in the spring and spring wheat or oats sown.
No further manuring was done and the cereal crop, whether winter- or spring-sown, was undersown in May, with a grass seed fiddle, broadcasting a herbal ley mixture.
Our only difficulty, in the damp Irish Summer, was not to get the ley established, but that we had got the field in such good heart by the previous treatment, that the young grass, clover and herb plants established so quickly that they grew almost apace with the wheat; chicory and all became quite a problem in the wheat straw; but harvesting on tripods was the answer to that problem.
Once the grain crop was harvested there was no shadow of doubt about the ability of phosphate deficient, farmed-out land being capable of growing a good clover sward.
There were leys to make the Emerald Isle proud of her name; for with leys like this painted across Ireland, she could really begin to live up to her name. It doesn't need imported superphosphate or basic slag to change the pale green-grey colour of vast stretches of Irish pasture one sees in flying over Ireland. It merely needs the proper use of the organic resources already present on and around most farms. And if the Minister of Agriculture feels he must offer the farmer a magic powder to darken the colour of his bilious-looking pastures, then let him use the rich deposits of natural rock which are available by the million tons for the grinding; or the vast quantity of mineral-and-trace-element-rich seaweed thrown almost daily at his doorstep by a benevolent nature.
And what is true for Ireland is true for almost every country in the world.
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