Steps, Sticks and Swords – The Story of Doncaster’s Morris Men: Spotlights
Peter Walker
In the early 1970s I was a member of an “Early Music” ensemble, playing music mainly from the 16th and 17th centuries. I’d acquired several LPs released by the Early Music pioneer David Munrow, and looking to extend the range of sounds available to our band I searched the track listings and thought, “Ah, I’d like to learn to play the pipe and tabor.” I bought a wooden pipe from the Early Music Shop, then based in Bradford. I went to see Trefor Owen at his Manvers workshop (part of a development scheme on the site of the former Wath colliery). As well as clogs Trefor made drums under the name “Gorphysfa Drums”. I asked him to make me a tabor which would withstand outdoor performance conditions and retain its tension even in the soggiest weather. I still have that tabor and it’s served me well. Trefor later served a term as the President of the Morris Federation.
By now I’d been told that the best way to develop pipe and tabor skills was to join a Morris side. One contact would pass me on to another and so on, until I met Paul Davenport and joined the Green Oak Morris. Paul was inspirational and encouraging; it was hard work and I’d often mess up the dance tune because I was concentrating on getting the drumming right to support the dancers’ stepping! (As I became accustomed to it I now found it disconcerting playing with my Early Music band because I didn’t have dancers to watch whilst playing!) I also learnt the Morris pronunciation “tabber” instead of the usual “tay-bor”. My wooden pipes struggled to be heard over traffic noise and the general public hubbub, so in 1976 I acquired my first stainless steel pipe from that great maker Jim Jones. I have many pipes now, and my favourite for Morris music is a plastic “Susato” G pipe made in America by Kolischek. We taborers (we are not called pipers) choose the right pipe to suit the range of the tune and the general conditions of a dance-out, so playing with other musicians can be tricky.
I bought my own copy of the Morris Ring’s A Handbook of Morris Dances by Lionel Bacon (the “Black Book”), and would study the varying versions of a particular dance tune (for example, Constant Billy) played in and collected from different (mainly Cotswold) villages (the “traditions”): the use of the pipe and tabor for the Morris goes back to at least the Elizabethan era, and possibly earlier, but concertina and fiddle players had started to alter and extend the compass of the tunes to suit their own instruments from the 19th century onwards. My dream is to play (or I should say “to tabor”) for dancing in the tradition of the Oxfordshire village of Bucknell. I also still enjoy playing jigs for various current members of the Green Oak.
Richard Benson
“So, for the sweet course there’s trifle, Black Forest Gateau, cakes, and a wide selection of biscuits and cheeses”
Wow, I had only come on this weekend ‘Morris Ale’ as a photographer and I never expected such a feast as this. After sleeping in a tent, being woken to a full cooked breakfast, then been off with a coach load of assorted and jingling morris dancers, I’d spent the day photographing these wonderful traditional English folk dances. I’d eaten a pie and peas lunch in a country pub, and had free beer and a sumptuous evening meal.
This was to be followed by singing and stories around a large camp fire and another night under canvas.
The next day was to be spent enjoying a sunny and warm afternoon at a village fete, with lots of food, dancing, music, beer and friendship. I took hundreds of photographs and enjoyed a fabulous time. What an amazing weekend.
Is it any surprise that when the Green Oak Morris held a ‘Have a Go’ night the following autumn, I joined! And I’ve not looked back.
Ady Horan
I was spending an evening at my girlfriend (now wife) Lydia’s house.
Her father Pete Worrall was Squire of Green Oak Morris Men. His brother Eddie was Squire of The Morris Ring.
Both of them asked if I wanted to try morris dancing. The family encouraged me not to feel peer pressured, but I responded with “Ah, go on then. It sounds fun!”
I’ve often been attracted by unusual activities, having played underwater hockey and performed Gilbert and Sullivan plays at university. Morris dancing fit the bill perfectly!
My experience as a beginner was fun. I enjoyed learning the dances, aiming to master each part before moving onto the next.
I keep doing morris dancing because I want to keep fit and healthy – and keep this wonderful tradition alive.
Martin Johnson
Having seen Morris dancing as a child in Stow on The Wold and being fascinated by it, my first introduction to actual dancing many years later was as part of the beginners Morris class at a Whitby Folk Festival. This culminated in a performance by the bandstand on the last day of the festival.
On returning home I walked into the old St. George’s Minster church hall one Wednesday night with a pair of hankies and was immediately welcomed and accepted. Little did I know it would be a hobby that thirty plus years later I would still be involved in.
Peter Heigham
I started dancing with Pomfret Morris Men of Pontefract in the late 1980’s because I was bored with my ordinary humdrum life of work, telly, sleep, repeat. Took a while to learn but it’s a great thing to learn.
Morris dancing has been a great help while I was working on short term contracts around the country – there’s usually a side nearby who welcome dancers. It’s a brotherhood and provided social support to the lonely.
Prior to joining Green Oak, I was working in Hertfordshire and spent 9 years dancing with Baldock Midnight Morris, a mixed Cotswold side. During my time with them we travelled to Belgium, Holland as well as Guernsey and Wales. A great bunch of people.
When I retired, I came back to Wakefield and found Green Oak and joined them looking for a quiet life as a dancer but soon found myself organising the Day of Dance for the Doncaster Folk Festival. I have since been elected Squire of the side because no-one else wants to do it!
Pete Worrall
I first heard of Green Oak while working with John Connell at the Plant Works in 1982. He introduced me to folk music, and explained the Kirtlington Hey amongst other Morrisy things. That planted a seed in my mind.
Later the same year I met Mick Morley, we both were painting stage scenery for Doncaster Literary Society. Mick talked enthusiastically about Morris and Mummers, and the seed grew. I asked Mick about joining, but the side had been in crisis and were looking for a new venue (history would repeat itself!). Eventually the Sea Cadet hall in Doncaster was secured for the following March, and I turned up for the first meeting there.
Being the sixth man and immediately thrown into The Rose Tree, Bampton didn’t put me off and I’m still there!
Jamie Rosser
As a Small boy at Primary school, one of our teachers was a Morris Dancer. Mr Bloor at Barnby Dun school. The Morris Dancers performed at the school summer fair and other occasions.
Even at age seven in the mid 1970s I enjoyed the colours of their uniforms, the rhythmic step dancing, clashing of sticks and the music. So different. I liked it.
Growing up I was aware that Doncaster along with other towns and cities had Morris Dance groups, I’d see Mr Bloor in the local paper and sometimes Morris dancers on the telly (sadly getting ridiculed in comedy sketches and ‘have a go’ type shows
Morris was part of me. I was interested, not to the point that I would look it up, but stop and have a closer look if I came across anything.
It was the late 1980s. Now part my young family, we had our first car.
A family visit to the seaside, a trip to Whitby was planned. When we arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Whitby Folk Week. Lots and lots of Morris Dancers, different coloured and different styles of costume. My wife and the kids wanted to do the beach, amusements, and buy tat, all I wanted to do was watch Morris. A one-sided compromise was made. “We’ll watch some dancing” “if you must”
After watching a ‘dance side’ ‘dance a set’ I took the courage to talk to one of the dancers, this man was very pleased and proud to be dancing. He was struggling to talk and struggling to be understood. He was just like me. We talked a while, he said to me how dancing helped with assertiveness, confidence fitting in socially and being part of a friendly group.
His words made me feel more comfortable with myself and my issues in life. A true inspiration.
In the year 2000 I went to Doncaster Beer Festival, by myself. I won a case of beer on a medieval game; enjoyed some beers. I noticed a beermat. It said on it Do you like traditional England. Could you use some exercise. Do you enjoy a pint. I picked it up and read the other side. It said on it. ‘Why not join Green Oak Morris Men, the beermat had all the details, times and meeting place.
I had this beermat for over a year before gaining the courage and confidence to meet Green Oak, I chose to go to the “and meet in the Masons Arms for a pint after Practice” as stated on the beermat. While ordering a beer in the front room of the Masons at the other side of the bar in the back room, stood a chap wearing a branded Green Oak polo shirt, I said “I’m coming to meet you lot tonight”. “Why” “do you want to join?” was the reply “Yea” was my answer.
The next thing was a weird experience. I can only describe as like seeing a seal in the sea, you see one it sees you. Then many appear, many heads and faces of Morris Men were taking a quick glance of this potential new recruit. I was invited to join them; I was gifted a couple of pints. The next week I was at St Georges Church Hall 7:45 for practice.
My life had changed. I was part of something. not only Green Oak Morris Men (of Doncaster). But part of something I could only describe as a subculture, many people meeting, Because of their appreation and participation of traditional English dance.
I soon had the opportunity to go to a ‘weekend of Dance Ale Feast’. Dance sides invite other Morris sides to join them for a Day of Dance, normally in their Town centre or surrounding villages, after a traditional feast and an evening of practice.
We travelled as a car full of adults (a strange and uncomfortable feeling for me), we were soon there. A village hall with a kitchen, a main hall and a small meeting room. And beer, lots. Help yourself from the keg(s). The advice was “make your bed in the off room” “or you’ll be going to bed late”
The main hall was set with U shaped table lay out with a top table. We were soon sat for our even meal. The Feast. A three-course meal with speeches with thanks and toasts from the top table. The hosting side and guests. I felt strange, but not alone. I always feel alone in groups and crowds. This was a brilliant experience.
After the feast the tables were cleared dancing and socialising was in full swing. I was in conversation with many groups and many people. This was the first time in my adult life I was in the company of other adults that I was an equal. I was in conversation with designers, engineers, teachers, university lecturers, company managers, artists, a dentist and entrepreneurs. All on the same social level. The art and enjoyment of Morris and all connected.
A night of chatting, laughing and dancing turned into an early morning. People were getting bedded down in the meeting room. Some were sleeping in the main hall while the dance was still going on… Then calm. Time to rest and settle to bed (in a village hall) Breakfast and a dance coach tour in the morning.
Many chapters have passed. Many chapters to come. Green Oak Morris Men has changed my life.
