The wind engine was the earliest form or drainage machine. It looked almost identical to a windmill but had water scoops instead of stones for grinding corn. Water confined to the network of Fen rivers and drains was drawn from one engine to another and finally lifted into the main drain. The engines existed in their hundreds and presented a graceful sight. As far as the eye could see as many as forty might be idling away in the breeze. What a pity that not one remains, except the little wind engine on Wicken Fen Nature Reserve.
The engines were sluggish and unreliable as they depended upon a breeze. They were not economical to maintain (nor was the steam engines which succeeded them).”You see, master”, said an old engine man to a former rector of March St. Wendreda’s church, she (the wind engine) was going all winter when she could, but the water all ran back again. It couldn’t get away and often enough there was no wind for weeks. That’s how the land came to be drowned. But bless you; “tis all altered now. With this steam they can drain every drop out of the land and the rivers are always on the move”.
Wind engines were constantly under repair. Their swiftly revolving sails were particularly vulnerable to wear and tear. The oak towers stood 40 feet high and were topped with a huge oak cap that could be turned into the wind. They had brick foundations but the rest was wood that was prone to damage. That was how it had to be as an heavier structure would have sunk into the river bank. The sails were 36 feet long and six or seven feet broad. The engine consisted of a few squared beams and massive cogwheels.
The principal beam stood vertically within the structure, geared to the axle in the cap and the bottom end geared to the huge water wheel which was usually 30 feet in diameter and studded with boards which splashed water from the lower level of dykes to the higher level of the main drains. The keeper took up his abode in the winter, residing with his family in the noisy basement of the tower, a cramped space filled with the creaking of the engine as it went about its task. The engine man had to turn the huge cap into the breeze with the aid of a chain and windlass. In the event of adverse weather he had to gather the canvas from the sails. Any reckless handling may cause the great sails to snap off like a carrot for which the engine man would be called sharply to account before irate commissioners-Fen farmers and landlords that knew the nature of things. The engine man undertook a dangerous task, the sails sweeping as low as two feet from the ground. When a person left the tower he had to dodge the flailing sails descending as little as two feet from the ground. This was more obvious when the sails swooped down a few feet from the door. An old time writer observed that the engine keeper’s children ran in and out of the tower quite oblivious to the sails that somehow they avoided. The wind engines were usually empty for most part of the summer, the engine keeper generally employed in roding the ditches. He received the call to man the engine from Michaelmas onwards and he and his family vacated the tied cottage for a season in the creaking old engine tower. These places were the homes of a tough breed of people born and bred in a relentless environment.
Drainage of the Fens at Croyland . Painting by J S Cotman
Text an extract from Mini Stories From The Fens – Trevor Bevis
