Alex Langlands

What is it like to find yourself living and working in the past? Alex Langlands tells of his year spent on a farm set in 1620.

Since finishing working on Tales from the Green Valley (BBC 2, Fridays, 7:30pm) friends and family have often asked me, “So, how did you survive the whole year?” But I have no stories of bravery in the face of scarcity with which to regale them, no tales of misery or suffering, and filth and grime in the absence of modern luxuries. For this project was never intended to see if modern humans could survive in the typical conditions of a 17th-century farm. We know that people “survived”. We as their descendents are ultimate proof. What we wanted to know was how they survived. What obstacles and decisions were they faced with? How did they eat? What tasks did they undertake in their daily lives?

This was a chance to engage with activities I had always dreamed of trying my hand at. Thatching, hedging, dry stone walling – a veritable catalogue of traditional British countryside skills, many now on the brink of extinction. As a professional archaeologist, I already had a reasonable understanding of what the landscape would have looked like, how the buildings would have been constructed and what tools and technology would have been available to the farmer of the period. For me, this was a chance to put theory into practice; to take some pages out of the history books and to try and apply them in the here and now.

The very many tasks we had to undertake and hardships we had to endure set the imagination alight and allowed us all to immerse ourselves in a world that existed some 400 years ago. Looking back, there is so much I have learnt from the lifestyle and farming practices of the 17th Century and so many lessons to be learned for the lives we lead today.

For example, I had always considered myself to be someone who is aware of their natural environment and of what is best practice for a greener and cleaner world around us. But the level of recycling and resourcefulness needed to sustain a concern of the like featured in the program astounded me but was, at the same time, so bloody obvious! Absolutely nothing went to waste. Even the trimmings from the pony’s hooves would find their way to the compost heap! In fact, one thing I noticed when I returned to 21st-century living was the presence of dustbins that were more often than not laden with a contents that would, by 17th-century standards, be considered a shameful waste.

A farm in the 17th-century, a period before industrial mechanised farming, would be the product of thousands of years of best practice and would require an intimate knowledge of the natural resources available. The biodiversity – a diverse range of crops, creatures and habitats – if properly exploited could yield a food source that would sustain a farming community all the year round with little need to look elsewhere for dietary supplements. Furthermore, with natural pesticides, insecticides and herbicides and home-sourced fertiliser, the food produced was as organic as it gets.

Seasonal eating was thus the rule throughout the year as various different food stuffs became available. There were no energy burning fridge-freezers humming away in the backroom and no exotic fruit that, in being transported to your kitchen table, had produced something like ten times its own body weight in carbon monoxide. No, the food served up from September to August on Tales from the Green Valley was distinctly British, environmentally friendly, organic and best of all, delicious.

In October’s episode we saw the killing and butchering of one of the farm’s Tamworth-wild boar cross pigs – Arthur. Fairly gruesome you might think and I for one struggled with the process, particularly with the smell of the warm and steaming intestine as it was drawn from Arthur’s lifeless bowel. But this is a method of producing meat that is so less barbaric than production line practices of today. In the first instance, the pig lived a happy and free-ranging existence. Its diet was balanced, entirely organic and varied throughout the year and its slaughter in the farm yard avoided the traumatic and distressing trip to the abattoir. Any concerns I had about the quality of the sausages that our farm-reared pig would produce were cast aside one evening as I strolled back to the fireside for supper and my nose was struck by the delicious waft of Ruth’s period recipe for pork and apple sausages and hog’ liver pudding. Believe me, they were absolutely exquisite and far surpassed any supermarket’s bland offerings.

Our first major task on the farm was to build a cow shed on the site of the ruined old one. We wanted to try our hand at the most basic of construction techniques, as well as provide a weather proof shelter for the farm’s small herd of Welsh Mountain Black cows. We began our year on the farm back in September, effectively the start of the agricultural year, and had perhaps two months before the worst of the winter weather would kick in.

In just seven weeks, over and above the running of the farm, we succeeded in building our cow shed. What gave me the greatest sense of achievement was the fact that we had sourced and processed only those materials that were available to a farmer of the 17th Century and furthermore, they had been applied using techniques and tools to match. It had been a back-breaking exercise and it was, I guess, a baptism of fire but it got the year off to a great start.

In all, my year spent on the 1620’s farm was a test of both my physical and mental strength. Certain activities, like the reaping of the farm’s hay meadows, required a relentless and monotonous action for periods of days and on occasions left me bodily broken. It was at times like this that it was difficult to keep the focus and to assure myself that prancing around a welsh hillside dressed in fancy breeches and doublet was really worth it. I’m man enough to admit that I struggled and hit a few lows. However, I don’t think anyone on the project, including the production team, were keen to engage in a ‘reality’ show where personalities came between the audience and the insightful historical information we were striving for. Sure there were tantrums and disagreements – some of which would have put the likes of Big Brother to shame – but they were behind the scenes and not fodder for the camera. Overall we knew, if we were to be successful, we would have to work closely and dedicate ourselves to the various chores and duties which would present themselves throughout the year. I hope our enthusiasm and commitment shines through in a television event that is rich in new and fascinating historical information.

Back in the real world of the 21st Century, I can look back (not quite 400 years!) and list the wonderful insights the year provided me with. I’ve returned to archaeological excavations digging, on a day-to-day basis, buildings and structures of the past. I can look at them with fresh eyes and with so much more of a practical understanding and genuine feel for the people of the time. I used to think that historical re-enactment was a glorified game of ‘let’s pretend’ for adults but I think what we did and hopefully achieved is something different. Even though today there appears to be such a distinction between urban and rural, the British public are still fascinated in our vital working countryside. People are concerned about ecology, environment and community and sometimes I can’t help but feel it is an extremely worthwhile pursuit to look deeply into the countryside and farms of the past, and learn a few lessons from how things where done back then.