Out-wintering cattle was once commonplace
The practice of out-wintering still exists and is even becoming popular once more. Picture: Pat McCarrick
If you drive through the Ox Mountain region during the months of winter, you will not see many cattle in the fields. This is because all farms, regardless of their size, now have modern sheds and slatted houses where cattle are housed. This trend has two great advantages: it protects the fields outside and it allows the cattle to continue to thrive inside.
It wasn’t always like this, however. I remember a time when there were no such sheds, a time when cattle were wintered outside – out-wintering they call it these days. I was surprised in recent weeks to find out that the practice of out-wintering still exists and is even becoming popular once more.
This article is not to show that one system is better than another; it is more to contrast and muse over changes in farming practice. Viewing such practices from the 1960s and early 1970s provides us with an intervening period of almost 60 years for comparisons.
Agriculture in the West of Ireland in the 1960s was still firmly held in an Old Ireland/pre-European time trap. Farming practices owed much to the nineteenth century and nothing at all to the 21st. Cattle breeds were vastly different back then. Aberdeen Angus, Hereford and Shorthorn, or a crossbred mix of all of these, were the order of the day. They were easily fed, light on foot and withstood extreme conditions very well.
Today’s breeds such as Charolais and Limousine are very much the opposite: they take a lot of feeding, are heavy on foot and they lose condition in harsh winter weather. Today’s cattle are built for profit; maximum weight gain and are required to guarantee financial return and their continental genes don’t fit well with Ox Mountain winters.
Today’s breeds need careful management. They need plenty of high-quality fodder and, in most cases, additional concentrates to get them to the required weight standards for them to attain the best factory prices. This investment must be guarded and so, the slatted house is the only cure. Such sheds ensure that cattle don’t just survive the winter, they continue to thrive.
The beasts of yesteryear were hardy and self-reliant and were not really expected to perform beyond a simple standard. Most West of Ireland yearlings were not reared for the butcher’s block but were sold at local fairs to cattle dealers from Meath and Kildare and East Galway. They went to farms that had bigger fields with richer pickings than they were accustomed to along the foot of the Ox Mountains. In their new setting, they blossomed and eventually arrived at their full potential. It is conceivable that most of them never saw the inside of a shed in their lives.
Out-wintering is still practiced in some places and is even coming back into vogue for some farmers. Followers of the old practice must take note of all its shortcomings but, taking all of this into account, results are still possible. It also demands quite a bit of time and effort on the part of the farmer.
For thousands of years, farmers in the Burren in County Clare have marked the arrival of winter by herding their cattle onto ‘winterage’ pastures in the limestone uplands where they spend the winter grazing. This ancient ‘transhumance’ tradition is synonymous with the Burren and is key to the survival of the region’s famous flora and fauna. Indeed, the whole process is now part of a local festival. This Burren Winterage Weekend celebrates the old tradition and displays the unique practice to visitors to the region. The Burren Winterage Weekend is now officially recognised as part of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Ireland.
The Burren is of course a unique landscape with a milder climate and a limestone ‘floor’ but just the same, it allows for a version of out-wintering. This out-wintering on the high hills of Clare also has benefits for the landscape, continuing a cycle of propagation, growth and regrowth annually.
Howemill Farm in Aberdeenshire in Scotland is home to Nikki Yoxall and her husband James. Here, the couple run their small herd of native breed cattle as ‘ecological engineers’, predominantly in an agroforestry system. In winter, all their stock are out-wintered in conditions that often includes a foot of snow, temperatures of minus 15 degrees and all this at a height of 1,500 feet.
Using hedges and woodland, their system also includes the use of bale pods. This method uses bales of hay, not just for feed but for shelter as well. Such cattle can remain warm and content in low temperatures because they have an inbuilt heat generation system. The Aberdeenshire couple estimate their daily feed costs at 30 pence per head per day. The UK average is £2 per head per day. They say their cattle are hardier but happier.
In the past, farmers knew exactly how to manage their stock in winter on a mountain farm. Using the natural contours of fields, paying attention to the direction of the prevailing wind and taking advantage of hedges, they created a safe, warm feeding place. This spot might change according to weather conditions but such corners were plentiful – there was four in every field.
I often saw my father make this decision of an evening before he headed out with a load of hay on his back. A high field was the first consideration and one with a dry corner if it could be managed at all. This meant that the ground did not dig-up under the concentration of hooves. A generous whitethorn hedge, was the next requirement. Such hedges had the ability to deflect powerful winds and filter accompanying rainfall to a mere mist. The problem of finding a better place if the wind changed was solved simply by moving the stock to another such corner.
He then arrived to his little herd of bullocks, who frisked about him in anticipation of receiving their supper. They followed him to the corner and there awaited their allowance of June hay. Meeting cattle in this way and in this setting had the effect of taming the beasts. It was often a habit of my father’s to linger with the cattle for a while, scratching their backs and admiring their humours.
My father never used a feeding frame but simply placed the hay on the ground. Saving this hay was a painstaking process and so he had developed a system where almost none of it went to waste. He had a great ability to judge just how much hay was required for the bunch of cattle. Too little and the cattle remained restless, too much and they tramped what was left underfoot. After such a feed, the cattle lay down and comfortably chewed the cud until morning.
With the arrival of spring, the back-loads of hay got smaller. When the grass came on, the out-wintering finished completely. At this stage, the cattle much preferred fresh grass to dry hay, no matter how sweet the hay might be.
By April, the small piles of dung that had been deposited along that hedge through the months of winter were all that remained of the sheltered feeding place. My father counted it a very pleasant job indeed to go there, graip in hand, to scatter the little clumps of winter dung. This age-old task was yet another positive benefit of out-wintering.
