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The Norfolk Horn: Part 2

As promised, a second post on the Norfolk Horn. In this post I want to tell you a bit about its wonderful woolly fleece.

Facts first. Todays Norfolk horn is a medium sized, hardy sheep. With its distinctive black face, alert bright eyes, with magnificent strong open spiral horns.  Both rams and ewes have horns. Long black legs and a belly that is free from fleece. It is intelligent, inquisitive and friendly, and, relative to its ancestors, fairly docile.  Its docility is thought to be owed to the Suffolk part of the modern Norfolks genetic heritage.

If you can get your hands on a Norfolk horn fleece you will find it is a creamy coloured, down land type, with flecks of dark fibres, the amount of dark fibre will vary between fleeces.

The British Wool Marketing Board classifies its fibre as fine, with a given micron range of 32 – 34.  So not so fine.  But bear with me. It does have a soft to medium handle. It has a staple length of 7 – 10 cm. The lock structure varies from a longish pointed staple in Shearling fleeces to a short thick more blocky staple in older sheep.

older locks
Shearling locks

The fleeces are quite small weighing in between 1.25 – 2.25 kg.  But the belly and legs are not fleeced. I have found that their fleeces tend to need little skirting so don’t generate too much waste. But they are greasy.  Very greasy.

Another factor in their favour, it is incredibly reluctant to felt.  So best avoided if you want a woollen yarn to full if you’re a weaver or felter. But great if you are a bit on the heavy/careless side with your finishing and washing. That’s not say they are impossible to felt…Here’s something from my research into the Norfolk breeds history: The poor felting of the Norfolk breed was one of the reasons why Norfolk developed a thriving Worsted yarn and cloth industry during the middle ages.

Surprisingly the lovely soft chocolatey brown fleece in this photo is Norfolk Horn.  The Lambs are born with dark fleece and this gradually grows through to white with time. If you are lucky enough to get lambswool like this, the fleeces are a beautiful, short stapled but very fine and wonderfully soft. You’ll find shades ranging from salt and pepper grey through to dark rich chocolatey brown/black.  The black fades out over time but some adults keep some dark fibres which gives an interesting colouring when it’s spun.

It is a great fibre to spin giving a bouncy lively yarn. The medium staple length and crimpiness make it a very tolerant fibre perfect for new spinners. It is not slick and slippery like over processed merino. It sort of sticks together and lets the spinner focus on keeping the wheel/spindle turning, whilst drafting the fibre and letting it feed in without having to concentrate too hard on keeping the drafted fibre.

I have found it spins up much softer than its fibres suggest it ought.  But it is definitely a tickly sheepy yarn with bounce and life.  The yarn seems to carry the character of the breed it comes from.

In general I card Norfolk horn on a drum carder. I used to painstakingly comb locks before feeding on.  Took for ever.  My hands raw, sore and blistering from combing.  I don’t do this now.  Now I pick up the locks, pull out any offending neps, noils, second cuts and other reject bits.  Lay the lock perpendicular to the licker in and then feed it onto the drum sideways.  Yes sideways.  No.  Not tip first.  Not butt first.  Sideways.  Brilliant.  I promise you try this once and you will be amazed at how speedier this whole boring slow boring and tedious process becomes.  I will then split these once carded batts and then card them another couple of times.  Picking out nasty bits as I go.

In general a woollen or semi-woollen spinning suits the fine character of the Norfolk the most.

 

This swatch was spun longdraw from the batt as strips that I’ve pulled into slivers.  Its about 15 wpi and knitted on 3mm needles.

I’m useless at hand carding rolags, always seems to be full of neps and lumps and bumps. The yarn is light,airy and bouncy.  It has a much softer hand than expected but is definitely tickly.  Don’t mock the quality of my spinning, I can never seem to get enough ply twist!

The longer staples make a great worsted yarn. Unlike the sample in this picture, which is not my best. It spun denser than the woollen sample, at about 13 – 14 wpi and is knitted on 3mm needles.

 

When combed and spun worsted the resulting yarn has a lovely lustre and an amazing memory. Although it has a crisper handle the stuff is like elastic! It just keeps springing back to shape. It makes a perfect sock yarn. I’ve wondered about adding blending in some mohair for a harder wearing sock yarn. Haven’t got around to it yet. Although you will also lose a lot of fibre through combing but this can be carded and spun into a lovely textured woollen yarn. This swatch is spun worsted short draw.  Sort of. I may have drifted of at points and forgot to keep with the inch worm…its firmer and a little harder hand that the woollen spun.

This cardigan is Norfolk horn.

I was in a silk phase so everything was being blended with silk.  Didn’t need it.  The brown pattern work is Alpaca.  Despite being light its incredibly warm.

Heres another example.  These are socks are Norfolk horn.  I knitted them from a two ply worsted yarn spun from combed top and then dyed. They never, ever sag or bag. And I really like the lustre and good stitch definition. They have also more than a few trips through the washing machine at regular 40oC cycle.  Did not felt. Amazing.  The pattern, if you are wondering is Sunshine by Cookie A.  Love love love her socks….

To sum up, its sheepy, bouncy, a full of life, versatile, dyes well and is virtually a natural superwash  fibre.

Hopefully that’s what you need to know. Go find some if you can and give it a go. I would love to know how you find it.

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Me and The Norfolk Horn sheep

IMG_20170325_115955
Norfolk Horn Ewe. One of Olivers in Elsing, Norfolk (Image: J. Monahan)

Look at her, isn’t she magnificent.

She is a Norfolk Horn. Medium sized, hardy breed  with a distinctive black face. Long in the body and limb with alert, bright, inquisitive eyes. And those magnificent strong open spiral horns sweeping backwards found on both ewes and rams.

I have been developing something of an obsession with the Norfolk Horn.

Me and the Norfolk Horn have history. It was the first fleece I worked from start to finish. From scratch. It took a year. It was not a good year. It was the year I hit a wall and something inside me shattered and broke. I’m not going to dwell on why it happened, that is another story, but I guess some explanation is required. It occurred after a protracted period that began with the death of a parent after a period to watching them dissolve over Skype from Motor Neurons Disease, we emigrated to New Zealand, then came back again, picking up the old life as best we could, renovating a house whilst burying myself in work (over the subsequent three years I wrote my PhD thesis in 18 months, co-authored a book, started working as a lecturer as well as taking on three research contracts). I was sleeping 3- 4 hours a night. And then the crying started. My brain felt like it had literally broken. Snapped. I could barely string a sentence together. I could not work anymore. I was just functioning. Everything went monochrome and tasted like cardboard.

Working the small, dense, very greasy, crimpy fleece saved me. Is that too dramatic? Scouring it, carefully combing it and dizzing it into rovings. At this time I only had two dog combs and a vice with a button for a diz. Spinning it. Dyeing it. Designing a pattern and knitting it up. I think that through this slow, slow, oh so very slow process I was mending myself. I’m alright now, different, but doing ok.  This year I have rediscovered sleep.  Its wonderful.

Anyway…

Suffice to say, I have a deep personal affection for these mad looking wee beasties. The more I find out about them the more questions I seem to have. Their story is an extraordinary one that I can only summarise for you here.

Rare, now found mostly in or around East Anglia, the Norfolk’s story is one of abundance, decline to near extinction and, tenuously, back from the brink.

It is thought to be one of the oldest breeds in Britain. It is currently thought that they came to Britain with the Saxons. It can trace its ancestry back to the Saxon Black faced heath sheep that once roamed over Northern Europe from the Netherlands to Russia.[1].

The Norfolk Sheep a portrait P Nursey 1846pcf0867
The Norfolk Sheep – a portrait P Nursey 1846 (image courtesy of Norfolk Museum Collection service)

It was the breed that was found everywhere across East Anglia from the Anglo-Saxon period through to the C18th. The Norfolk was a tough hardy breed. Small, feral and deer like, well suited to life ranging on the relatively poor Heathlands found in the region. It thrived on the poor sandy soils in the Brecklands and North-West Norfolk. Excelling at converting the low-grade heath pastures into milk, wool, manure and meat under the fold-course agricultural system unique to East Anglia [2].

SALLE CHURCH. NORFOLK, UK.    PICTURE: JAMES BASS PHOTOGRAPHY
St Peter and St Paul Church, Salle, Norfolk. My favourite church and a fine example of a Wool Church, built to impress by merchants grown very rich indeed on the proceeds of wool.

 

Its wool is said to be the wool that created the wealth that built Norfolk’s numerous and ostentatiously over-large wool churches that pepper the county. It produced the wool that was exclusively used in the famous worsted yarns upon which Norwich’s medieval worsted textile industry was founded.

SirThomasCokeandhis southdownsheep1807
Thomas William Coke of Norfolk Inspecting his Southdown Sheep, 1808 (Thomas Weaver). Thomas Coke, the 1st Earl of Leicester at Holkham, a keen advocate of agricultural modernisation.

Later, the Norfolk Horn found itself at the heart of the modernisation of livestock breeding during the C18th. Ironically, acting as the agent of its own demise. It was the crossing of The Norfolk Horn with the Southdown during the 18th Century that produced the Suffolk. Why is this important? Today, the Suffolk is the ram most used to produce the British Lamb that you will find on your plate.

By the mid C19th the Norfolk Horn was deeply unfashionable, considered a poor and troublesome breed by the Agricultural reformers. Their feisty, wild nature and inability to remain where they were put – leaping fences to keep roaming – made them ‘difficult’ to manage. They were replaced by these heavier docile Norfolk/Southdown crosses which were held as superior in every way. The number of Norfolk Horns declined.

PrinceFrederickinhat
Prince Frederick Duleep Singh

There was a small Antiquarian revival lead by gentleman farmers such as Prince Duleep Singh at Old Buckenham, and (another ironic twist) Lord Leicester at Holkham. But this was over by the start of the First World War. By 1917 there were no Norfolk’s left in Norfolk and just one flock remained.

The survival of the breed is down to one man, Mr J. D. Sayer. JD Sayer kept the only flock known in existence from 1895 until 1947. At this time the flock of 13 surviving Norfolk’s were moved to the Cambridge Animal Research station, later the remnants of this flock became the nucleus of what would become the Gene Bank at Whipsnade Zoo. Over the next 20 years The Norfolk’s situation went from bad to disastrous. By the late 1960s all that remained of the breed were 14 badly interbred individuals. The breed was on the brink of extinction.

The last Norfolk ram died in November 1971. This has me welling up, it is so sad.

It isn’t the end though, clearly.

In yet another ironic twist of fate, to preserve what was left of the Norfolk’s genetics and to increase the genetic diversity of the breed, Joe Henson and his daughter Libby at their then recently opened Cotswold Farm Park in 1969 and in subsequent years, in an extraordinary act of foresight outcrossed one of the final surviving Norfolk rams with some of their Suffolk’s. Outcrossing with the Suffolk was continued in the early 1970s ensuring the survival of the breed.

It is at this point in the Norfolk’s story that it finds itself at the centre of the fledgling Rare Breeds Movement story as the Gene Bank Project was closed down in the late 1960’s. It was the desperate situation of the Norfolk Horn breed that led to the awareness of the need for genetic conservation of traditional farm animals. The Norfolk was the most at risk of all the breeds identified at the formation of the Rare Breed Survival Trust in 1973.

Through dedicated and careful stewardship by a number of people the breed survived and by 1994 The Norfolk Horn Breeders Group was established. By this time were less than 300 registered breeding ewes. By 2005 RBST moved the breed to Category 4 ‘At risk ‘on their watch list.

Today, there are more than 2500 sheep dispersed between 79 flocks, predominantly in its ancestral home of Norfolk. The Norfolk Horn is now off the critical list and is a Category 5 – minority on the RBST watch list.

I don’t know how the modern Norfolk Horn compares with the Old Norfolk. They look stockier, less agile and less wild. But they have a certain way about them, in the same way that Irish Wolf Hounds do. A rough raggedy regalness in the way they carry themselves. And I love them for it.

If you want to know more about the Norfolk Horn story the best reference I have found is Peter Wade Martins book. Black Faces: A History of East Anglian Sheep Breeds.

In the next post I will blog about the fleecey aspects and talk about the fibre side of life.

[1] Ryder, M. L. (1983). Sheep and man. Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd. . Wade-Martins, P., & Martins, S. W. (1993). Black Faces: A History of East Anglian Sheep Breeds. Norfolk Museums Service.

[2] Fold-course or Sheep-Corn system is unique to East Anglia. Under this distinctive form of agricultural management flocks were run on the open heaths during the day time and then folded (penned) on a set field area overnight to tathe (manure) the fields and feed on the crop residues.  See Allison, K. J. (1955). The wool supply and the worsted cloth industry in Norfolk in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (Doctoral dissertation, University of Leeds).

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Amassing some Masham

Lock spun Masham
Lock spun Masham

Whilst the weather has done its usual summer thing (looking forward to seeing the sun again when the schools go back in September) I’ve had some time to get to know those two Masham fleeces Jason the splendid shepherd sold me back in July.

The story behind these fleeces is one of those where curiosity lead the way.  We were walking at Blickling Hall (home of the Boleyn’s – yes the one of Anne fame) and saw a flock of the prettiest sheep, smallish with a lovely long wool and a speckled black face. Our walk quickly descended into me rushing about hither and thither distracted by all the lovely bits of wool that the sheep had shed, testing Seans patience. Curiosity peaked I started thinking just what do they do with their fleece?  I tracked down the estate manager who put me intouch with Jason the shepherd. A few phone calls later and I gathered two Masham fleeces.  These are they of the FSM post if you want to know about that.

I’ve never spun Masham.  It’s a longwool and it’s not going to be ‘next o’the skin’. It does have a wonderful curl and gorgeous soft lustre to it. Of the two fleeces, one was just lovely, relatively fine staple with a well-defined curl and softness.  The other…oh dearie me, not so lovely, really coarse, straight structure, great rug wool.  Both were quite tender so needed a gentle hand when combing.

Is it something within the psyche of a spinner to be a natural womble? There is no such thing as waste – it’s just material that we lack the imagination to do something with. The coarse stuff won’t be headed for the veg patch, I have in mind to dye it up and spin it into a really thick low twist roving to for a felted cat bed.

I took a sample of about 100 g of the locks, splitting into two samples.  The first I left natural and the second I dyed the locks a pale aqua.  It took the dye well and didn’t felt.

Talking of waste. The lovely sheepies were sheared quite late in the season, so there was quite a definite break which meant there was quite a bit of shorter, softer, material from the combing. I didn’t throw into the stuffing bag but chucked through the drum carder and pulled of a batt, it was very ‘textured’ (artist speak for a bit crappy and full of neps and knots) but I was interested to see what sort of a yarn I would get out of it.

I wanted to try spinning it in various ways:

A traditional two ply lace, which I am really pleased with. The yarn blooms up with a nice halo, I tried to keep this to a minimum by not thwacking it or fulling it just a basic wash.

Lock spun – omfg spinning lockspun yarn takes a stupid amount of time! But isn’t it beautiful. Absolutely worth it. I’ve since discovered how to do a speedier cheats version from Natalie Redding of Namaste Farms which is basically coreless corespun chopped into lengths and hooked onto a knitted (or crocheted base). So will give that a go next time.

Coreless corespun (my personal favourite, I think the great Judith Mackenzie may call this wolf yarn). I wanted texture so rather than combing, I pulled the locks apart into a fluffy mass with some lock structure still in place and span straight from the cloudy mass. Teasing out the central ‘core’ and allowing the fibre to wrap around this. Isn’t is just gorgeous. The photo hasn’t really done the lustre justice. Its not as shiny as mohair but it has a beautiful sort of translucent glow to it. Want to bury myself in it.

For the dyed samples I span a corespun with a commercial lace weight wool/mohair core.  I didn’t want as much texture here so the locks were combed into a more orderly fluffy arrangement and spun from small packets of this tip first.

A faux boucle textured corespun plied with a thin single and a silk thread carrying pearl beads. I had a lot of threaded beads left and some of the combing waste.  The combing waste I span up into a thin single and plied with the beaded silk thread.

I also wanted to try a low twist worsted weight single haven’t had the time.  That’s next on the agenda for a shepherd’s hat for the shepherd to say a big thank you.

I’m still enjoying their beauty hanging in the workshop. I might knit them up into something funky that plays with their fabulously different textures. But for now I’m just enjoying stroking them as I walk past.

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New pattern published in Knitty

Latest issue of Knitty has just gone live and, so very chuffed, I got me a pattern in Knitty Spin!  yay.  So very chuffed and honoured to be published.

RidgeandFurrow4

I called it  Ridge and Furrow.

ridgeandfurrow2b

The project was an interesting one,  not least because of the classic stupid mistake I made when I got the fleece but also because of that moment of inspiration that you just have to see through to the end. The story behind it in brief…

My walk to my local farm (Green Farm) to check out their fleece took me through a freshly ploughed field. I really like a nicely ploughed field, something about the lines and the patterns of the ridges and furrows and the rich chocolate brown of the earth.

RidgeandFurrow1b

Anyway, mind wandering as I walked, I started planning a shawl. I knew the design would need to be lacy and it would be natural dark brown. Then I got to the farm. There it was, a beautiful chocolate brown Hebridean fleece all bundled up and ready to go. Serendipity. It had my name on it. I could start right away. And this is where I made a classic mistake. I took it without  looking at it properly. When I got home I eagerly unwrapped it on the lawn. My heart sank. It was nasty. Clotted, filled with VFM. It was really really crappy.  But, I was driven so onwards I went.  I didn’t even abandon it when I accidentally felted it up some more when I scoured it…Oh how I laughed…

Anyway I managed to rescue nearly 60 grams (2oz or so) of usable fibre. This I hand carded into rolags and spun up into a superfine single spun worsted with the lowest twist the fibre could handle without drifting apart. I got about 780m (850 yards) in the end.

Using a triangular construction the shawl is knitted from the top centre down through the main body and the edge is knitted on to the live stitches along the bottom edge. The main body is a simple combination of stockinette stitch and a 4-row repeated lace pattern. The gorgeous edging is a simple 6 row repeat edging worked along the hem of the main body.
The lace pattern is number 25 from Pitsilised Koekirjad, an Estonian lace stitch dictionary by Leili Reimann. The lace edging is a pattern design I charted from memory of another piece of lace I had seen, but cannot remember its source. If anybody recognises it, please let me know and I can give full credit.

The Hebridean was an interesting fibre to work with.  It’s a double coat (has a long coarse top coat with a softer shorter staple undercoat) which I haven’t worked with before – another adventure in fibre.  In the fleece I was working with the top coat wasn’t too harsh or dominant in the fibre I salvaged (much tearing and yanking to retrieve best bits).  The resulting yarn was ok next to the skin (very scientific prickle tickle test on Sean), and the scarf is a little on the prickly side but ok for me.  I’m going to try again this year with another hebridean fleece from Green Farm.  Which I am off to on a fleece buying expedition this week.

I hope you like the pattern.  I’ve also posted it on Ravelry.  Please let me know if you have any questions.  And if you knit it up, I would really love to see it, send me a picture or link.