SET on the banks of the River Greta at Keswick is a scene that has barely changed for nearly 200 years.

The green landscape is only broken by the magnificent sight of the Herdwick tups in their pens.

Side by side they stand in full bloom, striking in their familiar brick-red chalky ‘reddell’ fleeces, a long-standing Herdwick tradition that leaves a russet band that has blended into the fleece.

The red colour marks the rams out from the ewes I was told when attending my first-ever annual Keswick Tup Fair, some years ago. Hundreds of years ago shepherds chose this colour because it was the easiest to spot from the bottom of the fell.

The smit marks also help farmers locate and identify their fell sheep: lines or dots of colour (it might be blue, orange, red or green) will say whose flock a sheep comes from, whether a ewe is carrying twins or a single lamb, which tup has mated with which ewe, and even which lowland field a ewe was grazing before being turned out to the higher reaches of the fell.

The annual Keswick Tup Fair begins not long after first light, when a procession of vehicles and trailers arrive at the field and the tups are herded into the grass pens where owners spend some time washing and primping their animals, before wandering around the parkland to eye up the competition.

It is a tradition that has been going since at least the 1840s, when shepherds gathered each year on the third Thursday in May to exchange tups following winter breeding.

At the annual fair, judges choose the best fleece and the best wintered tups, while farmers inspect one another’s rams and talk about buying or borrowing, or hand back tups they borrowed in the autumn for their own ewes.

One person stands out among the crowd of flat caps and checked shirts. Jean Wilson is a lady feted within the Herdwick world and beyond. Her rock by her side is her husband, Derek.

“Jean was bred to breed Herdwicks,” he says. “It’s in her blood. She travels the world to promote Herdwicks and her wise council has been sought by many a young breeder starting out in their Herdwick career over the years.”

Like so many of the old-school breeders, her knowledge of the Herdwick sheep and her skills are all encompassing. Meet Jean, from Dockray, at a show and she will know the history and breeding of not only all of her own sheep, but probably most of the other farmers’ sheep too.

Watching last year’s lambs vying for the best position in their pen, Derek says: “They’ll go home and be sheared in June and July and then they will be a shearling.That is when they change into very real hardy Herdwicks.

Does he have much to do with the sheep? “I leave the sheep to Jean.

Just then, grandson Scott strides over. He’s showing Jean’s sheep for her today.”

“What makes a perfect Herdwick sheep,” I ask. “Every Herdwick breeder will tell you the perfect one has never been born,” says the 26 year old, laughing.

The socialising over, it’s time to get down to the real business of the Tup Fair, and Herdwick stalwart Stanley Jackson of Nook Farm, Rosthwaite, chooses a tup. Grabbing it by its woolly neck and one robust horn, he brings it out of the pen and into the ring. Stanley has never held the fantastic silver cup presented each year to the prize champion Herdwick Tup, which, of course, suddenly sees its asset value jump in price from a stud point of view.

The silver cup, first awarded in 1928 by Penrith agricultural chemist Thomas EdmundsonSET on the banks of the River Greta at Keswick is a scene that has barely changed for nearly 200 years.

The green landscape is only broken by the magnificent sight of the Herdwick tups in their pens.

Side by side they stand in full bloom, striking in their familiar brick-red chalky ‘reddell’ fleeces, a long-standing Herdwick tradition that leaves a russet band that has blended into the fleece.

The red colour marks the rams out from the ewes I was told when attending my first-ever annual Keswick Tup Fair, some years ago. Hundreds of years ago shepherds chose this colour because it was the easiest to spot from the bottom of the fell.

The smit marks also help farmers locate and identify their fell sheep: lines or dots of colour (it might be blue, orange, red or green) will say whose flock a sheep comes from, whether a ewe is carrying twins or a single lamb, which tup has mated with which ewe, and even which lowland field a ewe was grazing before being turned out to the higher reaches of the fell.

The annual Keswick Tup Fair begins not long after first light, when a procession of vehicles and trailers arrives at the field and the tups are herded into the grass pens where owners spend some time washing and primping their animals, before wandering around the parkland to eye up the competition.

It is a tradition that has been going since at least the 1840s, when shepherds gathered each year on the third Thursday in May to exchange tups following winter breeding.

At the annual fair, judges choose the best fleece and the best wintered tups, while farmers inspect one another’s rams and talk about buying or borrowing, or hand back tups they borrowed in the autumn for their own ewes.

One person stands out among the crowd of flat caps and checked shirts. Jean Wilson is a lady feted within the Herdwick world and beyond. Her rock by her side is her husband, Derek.

“Jean was bred to breed Herdwicks,” he says. “It’s in her blood. She travels the world to promote Herdwicks and her wise council has been sought by many a young breeder starting out in their Herdwick career over the years.”

Like so many of the old-school breeders, her knowledge of the Herdwick sheep and her skills are all encompassing. Meet Jean, from Dockray, at a show and she will know the history and breeding of not only all of her own sheep, but probably most of the other farmers’ sheep too.

Watching last year’s lambs vying for the best position in their pen, Derek says: “They’ll go home and be sheared in June and July and then they will be a shearling.That is when they change into very real hardy Herdwicks.

Does he have much to do with the sheep? “I leave the sheep to Jean.

Just then, grandson Scott strides over. He’s showing Jean’s sheep for her today.”

“What makes a perfect Herdwick sheep,” I ask. “Every Herdwick breeder will tell you the perfect one has never been born,” says the 26 year old, laughing.

The socialising over, it’s time to get down to the real business of the Tup Fair, and Herdwick stalwart Stanley Jackson of Nook Farm, Rosthwaite, chooses a tup. Grabbing it by its woolly neck and one robust horn, he brings it out of the pen and into the ring. Stanley has never held the fantastic silver cup presented each year to the prize champion Herdwick Tup, which, of course, suddenly sees its asset value jump in price from a stud point of view.

The silver cup, first awarded in 1928 by Penrith agricultural chemist Thomas Edmundson, takes pride of place in a trailer holding an array of silverware.

Just then, some manic scrabbling in the makeshift ring sees a sea of red backs take their places alongside serious-faced owners. Stanley knows competition’s keen. He’s up against tups from famous Lakeland farms such as Yew Tree, Swinside End and Chapel House.

After what seems like hours, judges Jonathan Benson, of Harry Place, Langdale, and Robert Powell, of Brimmer Head, Grasmere, whittle down 25 Herdwicks to just five. A tense 20 minutes follows while the judges, their hands dyed red from feeling the thick fleeces, look into the mouths of bucking and jumping rams.

Without further ado, the red rosette is handed to Stanley, who, looking stunned, poses for photographs with his shearling.

, takes pride of place in a trailer holding an array of silverware.

Just then, some manic scrabbling in the makeshift ring sees a sea of red backs take their places alongside serious-faced owners. Stanley knows competition’s keen. He’s up against tups from famous Lakeland farms such as Yew Tree, Swinside End and Chapel House.

After what seems like hours, judges Jonathan Benson, of Harry Place, Langdale, and Robert Powell, of Brimmer Head, Grasmere, whittle down 25 Herdwicks to just five. A tense 20 minutes follows while the judges, their hands dyed red from feeling the thick fleeces, look into the mouths of bucking and jumping rams.

Without further ado, the red rosette is handed to Stanley, who, looking stunned, poses for photographs with his shearling.