My grandfather started his working life as a ploughboy at the age of 12 on a farm on the Yorkshire Wolds where his father was a farm labourer. Over 40 years ago I remember hearing a friend of his telling about the times on their farm using Clydesdales and about when they changed over to a tractor. Many years later I turned this into a song, which starts with a verse of We're All Jolly Fellows Who Follow the Plough, which he used to love to sing.

I once sang the song in a pub (called, appropriately, The Chestnut Mare) in the next village to where my grandfather had lived. After I'd finished, a massive old Wolds farmer, with a weather-beaten face and hands like hams, turned round to me with tears running down his face and said, "Aye, lad, that's just 'ow it wo' on our farm".

Here's the song:


JACK AND JILL

'Twas early one morning at the break of the day
The young cock was crowing and the farmer did say
Rise up me young fellahs and work with a will
Your 'osses need summat their bellies to fill.

I was only a nipper when me dad showed me how
And with the old team I would harrow and plough
Instead of in school I'd be out on the hill
With our two heavy horses called old Jack and Jill

CHORUS: With the reins 'cross my shoulder as my hands grip the shafts
And across the cold morning their heavy breath wafts
Bright brasses jingle as they both take the strain
And old Jack and Jill work the hillside again.

When Dad bought our first tractor it filled me with joy
I was just like a lad who had got a new toy
Instead of an acre I could plough the whole hill
And I never thought once about old Jack and Jill. CHORUS

No need to rise now an hour before dawn
To harness the team in the cold early morn
But when I came home after working all day
I found old Jack and Jill had been taken away.

The paddock was empty, the stable was bare
Empty collars and harness were all they'd left there
It was then that I realised I'd lost my best friends
And we'd never work on the hillside again. CHORUS

Now I sit by the fire with my pipe in my hand
My bones ache from years of working the land
But as I gaze in the embers I'm back on the hill
Ploughing an acre with old Jack and Jill. CHORUS


You can hear us singing it here: Jack and Jill