…AND THE MEN WHO MADE IT HAPPEN
…AND THE MEN WHO MADE IT HAPPEN
FW brings together two veterans who, in their own
way, changed the face of UK beef production
MEET David Abbott and Robert de Pass. Forty years ago, Mr Abbott was assistant manager of the then Milk Marketing Board bull rearing unit at Chippenham, in Wiltshire. Mr de Pass had been farming in Devon and Wiltshire since completing an estate management course at Cirencester following service in the Royal Navy. He and his wife had 65 Dutch Friesians at Easton Royal, in Wiltshire.
David Abbott started as a student at Moulton, Northampton, and went on to become stockman of the Colleges pedigree Aberdeen Angus herd, before moving to Wiltshire for the MMB job.
One day in 1961, he was summoned for an assignment that changed his life, and gave him a place in farming history. With another stockman, Arthur Mabey, employed by the Ministry of Agriculture, he had been detailed to spend four weeks in a quarantine station in the London docks. "I counted it a great honour to be asked," he says.
With the two of them, and strictly isolated, would be 12 Charolais bulls, the first-ever importation. They would all be supervised by a government vet, Mr Brennan. "A very strict character," Mr Abbott recalls.
Protracted battle
The bulls arrival in England marked the end of a protracted battle by a handful of farmers. There can be little doubt that the minister of agriculture and many of his officials earnestly hoped that all the bulls would fall at the quarantine hurdle, and little was done to facilitate the importation.
"The milords in parliament, many with their own herds of Angus, Hereford and Shorthorn, just didnt want the competition," says Mr de Pass. Two years earlier, on holiday with his father in Brittany and bored with the beach, he had decided to have a look at the renowned Charolais, about which he had heard so much from Ben Cooper, of the famous Normead herd.
"My father spoke very good French, as hed been an interpreter in the navy," explains Mr de Pass. "We went to a number of farms and were at the co-operative AI centre at La Roche-sur-Yon in the Vendee run by a Mr Jaffrenoux, when, by chance, a leading Charolais breeder, Jacques David, turned up."
They struck up a friendship, and the following autumn Mr de Pass was invited to join a bull selection tour in Mr Davids official capacity as a breed society inspector. It was a fantastic opportunity. "We covered all the best-known breeding herds in France," he recalls.
Other British farmers made similar personal contacts with French breeders, who were keen to help, knowing that if they could persuade the foreigners to buy, it would open the world to the breed.
"We worked very hard to get females into the country, but in the end, we decided that if the Conservatives remained in power wed be very unlikely to succeed," says Mr de Pass.
Heated dispute
Finally, after a heated dispute in parliament, and following the recommendation of its appointed Terrington Committee, the minister, John Hare, agreed to an importation of just 12 bulls. But they had to be brought in at seven months of age, before they had been vaccinated against foot-and-mouth disease. The ministry insisted that the bulls were to remain government property and that their eventual future management was to be by the MMB and independent AI stations.
They had already been quarantined in France, but the process was repeated in the London quarantine station, hard alongside the dock where they first set foot in Britain. There they met a motley bunch of 12 English cattle that were to be quarantined with them as "disease catchers", plus a small herd of guinea-pigs. The latter were destined to suffer the indignity of being injected with urine from the imported animals, again to study any resulting diseases.
Sadly for the hapless guinea-pigs, and near-disastrously for the whole venture, two bulls proved to be leptospirosis carriers. The minister, by then Christopher Soames, called for the whole lot to be slaughtered, but eventually agreed that the two carriers only should be killed on the premises. Nevertheless, the quarantine was extended for a further seven weeks, nearly trebling Mr Abbotts enforced isolation.
"Our job was to clean the cattle up and get some weight on them," he remembers. "We were always busy in the mornings. We had to collect urine samples from each animal daily. Straw and fodder was delivered outside, and we had to carry it all in."
Each bull had its own loose box, and was fed separately. The stockmen, too, ate alone. "We had to feed ourselves, mostly fry-ups in the little kitchen, where there was also a TV. Our bedroom was right next to the bulls accommodation."
In their remaining spare time, the two marooned stockmen made doormats from the strings of the bales that were brought in.
Charolais conquest
Then it all ended, and the Charolais conquest of Britain began. The remaining 10 bulls were taken separately to Chippenham for semen tests and ultimately for licensing, before they were dispersed to AI centres around the country. At last, dairy farmers had a chance to test them on their herds.
It was four more years and a change of government before females could be imported, but this time luck was on the Charolais enthusiasts side. John Mackie, erstwhile chairman of the UK Charolais committee, was re-elected to parliament and appointed parliamentary secretary to Fred Peart in the Wilson government. In the spring of 1965, permission was given for 200 females to be imported to a special quarantine station in Plymouth dockyard. The breed had truly arrived.
"Before the importation, cattle in the UK were either black or brown. They were all too small, and getting smaller," comments Mr Abbott. Mr de Pass nods agreement. "Another important reason for importing the Charolais was their fantastic growth rate," he adds.
Looking back, they agree the first importation changed British beef production forever, and that it could never have been done with our own bloodlines.