Fell Ponies in the Pits

“If someone tells you that Fell Ponies weren’t used in the pits, tell them to talk to me,” Joe Langcake once told me . By ‘pits’, Joe of course meant the coal mines of England. Many accounts of Fell Pony history state that Fells didn’t work below ground. Joe knew otherwise.

Joe Langcake and Lunesdale Dylan. Photo copyright and courtesy Craig Humble

I knew Joe Langcake of the Restar Fell Pony Stud from 2005 until his death in 2020. In 2006 I spent five days with him studying conformation and movement. But it was only in 2011 that I learned how he’d become involved with Fell Ponies. I’m sure I’d asked the question before, and I’m sure he’d answered, but never in the way he did this particular time. Suddenly a lot of things made more sense. His deep love for and understanding of the breed just didn’t match the time since the first Restar pony was registered in 1992. His remembered conversations with recent legends of the breed like Sarge Noble, Eddie Wilson, Jim Bell, Johnny Little, Harry and Frank Wales, and HRH the Duke of Edinburgh just didn’t match someone who’d only known the breed eight years longer than me.

Between the ages of 8 and 18, Joe spent each summer preparing young ponies for work in the coal mines. Beginning around 1934, Joe and his brother joined other boys at a nearby farm when around 200 Fell Ponies straight from the sales arrived in the yard. “They were nearly all Fells and nearly all geldings; only occasionally were there crosses.” At the time, Fell Ponies were smaller than they are now, from 12 to 12.2hh. “Small ponies made the most money when the pits were buying,” says Joe. “Tebay Campbellton Victor [the well known stallion used by the Heltondale stud] would have made a great pit pony” because of his small but powerful build. Joe remembers seeing ponies from the Heltondale herd at the sales and also seeing Eddie Wilson’s father (Townend) and Johnny Little (Guards) at the sales.

Ponies at Willington station on the way to the pits. Photo from the book Pit Ponies by John Bright and used with permission

Before ‘the back end’ (fall), the boys were responsible for teaching the previously untouched ponies about halters, lead ropes, riding and ultimately the gear they would wear in the tunnels where they pulled tubs of coal. Not all 200 ponies went to the mines; many were sorted out because they were too tall or were not temperamentally fit for the work ahead. “The lads in the pit had little horse experience, so the ponies had to be right,” said Joe. Old Mr. Benson, the manager of the yard, told the boys, “Just treat them with respect.” Instead of giving specific guidance, Mr. Benson told them, “Make a job of it, lads.” No grown-ups were involved in the gentling of the ponies. Sometimes the work with the ponies took precedence over school. And after the boys had to start working on their home farms, they would come in the evenings for three to four hours to work with the ponies. “Even the wildest ponies would come around with time and patience,” said Joe, “We had a lot of time, so patience was possible.”

The yard was equipped with a facsimile of the tub and rail lines that were in the mines. The rail line went down one side of the yard and then into pseudo tunnels. The ponies soon learned not to step over the rails. Then there was also a place where rails crossed, so the boys could teach the ponies to stay on the line they were on. Other obstacles also helped to mimic what the ponies would face underground. When the ponies were well accustomed to pulling the tubs, the boys would ride in the tubs. With some of the ponies, the boys were able to ride bareback without a halter and lead. The boys also accustomed the ponies to wearing the steel hats that protected their heads from low hanging objects or things they couldn’t see in the dark.

When it was time for the ponies to go to the mine – one of two owned by the St. Helens company such as the one at Flimby which was two miles away - five or so ponies were tied head to tail, with a lad riding the first to make the journey. Joe says that once the ponies began working in the pits, they were very quiet and well looked after; “when they came up they looked well. Their coats were shiny. I always expected to see a dirty pony but never did.” The ponies worked eight hours on, eight hours off. The shafts went a mile out under the sea. Three to four men were dedicated to preparing the ponies’ feed; it was made on the surface then taken down the shaft to the ponies. Joe and the other boys would sometimes go down into the pit to see the ponies working; it was amazing to see a full stable underground, much like you would see on the surface.

The ponies would return to the surface at the end of each summer. The boys would sort through the herd to cull out the ones that weren’t doing well in the mines. “Some ponies can’t stand the darkness; they need natural light. They would have rubbed out portions of their coats. Others really took to the work,” said Joe. Sometimes the ponies that didn’t do well underground would go to work in nearby drift mines (accessible by walking in from the surface). They often did well there because they were accustomed to the work but able to spend nights outside and, in the summer, nights on pasture.

Joe and his comrades did the work for fun without any adult supervision. In return, the yard owner would occasionally gift the boys with five shillings or take them to an auction. “I never had one I couldn’t do with,” says Joe. “I came to love Fell Ponies through that work.”

Now I understand where Joe developed his keen ability to assess the temperament of a pony and how he came to have such an easy and natural way with a pony. What an amazing amount of responsibility he and his comrades had at such an early age.

I am grateful to Eddie McDonough and John Bright for their assistance with this story.