The first active meeting was held on January 15th 1926, when G.Green, W.Green, J.Heaven and Radcliffe met at Cameron’s flat, whence they adjourned to St. John’s Mission to practise Sleights. After this they went to Reeve Hall for Country Dance practice with the Lumps of Plum Pudding. This first tentative link with the ladies’ team was to develop into a close association lasting for more than thirty years. Each team preserved its independence but joined the other for country dancing. Both names have connections with the Morris. Wryesdale ‘Greensleeves’ is a dance for three men, nearly always ‘guyed’ for show purposes, while ‘Lumps of Plum Pudding is a name given to several Morris Dances and well known to most Morris Men as a Morris Jig.
Club costume originally comprised bell pads and baldrics in colours of own choice, white flannels, white plimsolls and no hats. Green armlets were worn for the first time at a demonstration in Bethnal Green in November 27th , 1926. For sword dances, bells and baldrics were taken off and leather shoes substituted for plimsolls. Incidentally, bells were always worn at the weekly practices, because it seemed to be of use to the musicians.
During 1927 the Club began to study a sword dance from the small island of Papa Stour in the Shetlands. Cameron, whose family estate was the Isle of Bressay, ‘found’ the dance, collected all the information about it and brought it south, first of all to Greensleeves. The unusual, perhaps unique, characteristics of the dance are the long and flexible swords, the presence of seven dancers, the fascinating seven pointed star made by the double locking of the swords, and the unusual tune to which the dance is done. It is performed to this day at the annual Shetland festival of Norse origin, called Up-helly-aa (but not by Greensleeves).
The last practice before the summer break of 1929 brought something of a shock in the form of a statement from Cameron who
“…confessed that he was about to leave London and live at home in Shetland, and as that was seven hundred miles away, regular attendance on Fridays would be difficult. It would obviously be a pity – to put it mildly – if this, the only club of its kind in London, were to cease to exist, but the scarcity of men and the difficulties in the way of such as there are make its maintenance difficult.”
But the Club did continue, and at the first meeting of the Autumn term, the leadership devolved upon Jack Heaven. A benedictory telegram from Cameron was then opened and read:
“Foot it featly and keep it up”
(Signed) Old ‘un.
Subsequently, a long-sword, bright and shining, was engraved with the names of all those who were members at the time, including that of the Club’s honorary member, Mrs Matthews, and at the practice on January 10th, 1930, it was presented with suitable ceremony to Cameron in recognition of his services.
During these pre-war years the public side of the Morris had a very different character indeed. There was little by way of ‘tours’ as we now understand them, but instead an enormous number of formal demonstrations was given in a wide variety of circumstances at fetes, schools, churches, Women’s Institutes and all manner of public events. Some were not without their humorous moments, as for example at a function in aid of the London Hospital (1934) when the men danced before a small audience in a marquee, on grass and sloping ground with a tent pole in the way.
Breakdown in transport both public and private occurred from time to time, while problems of music amplification were encountered as early as 1932 in Oxford “from a mullard van”. Even keeping the log was not without risk: on one occasion the ‘chronicler’ found it difficult to give an accurate account of the meeting on Friday June 15th 1934 owing to his late arrival in a state of inebriation.
Competitions and shows were very popular at this time, some of the dancing being conducted on a scale sufficiently large to require the use of the Albert Hall. The frequency with which the Club entered competitions is matched only by the frequency with which they obtained high-marks, and some of the mark sheets together with the judges’ comments have survived to be included in the log. At the Ilford competition in 1927, Greensleeves carried off the prize in the sword section with Escrick, and later that afternoon decided to make a last minute entry for the Country Dance section in collaboration with the Lumps of Plum Pudding, which called for a hasty rehearsal in an empty marquee some four minutes before going on. Their subsequent performance drew from Douglas Kennedy the remark that he was “please to see that the team was not over-drilled”.
It was in 1927 that someone in the Club coined the word ‘preliminating’ to describe the competitive selection of teams aspiring to be chosen for the Society’s Annual festival, or even for the Albert Hall. One of the preliminating events was held in the Parry Theatre of the Royal College of Music, where dancers were required to perform on a stage more suited to opera, in front of a sky-blue back-drop and with a piano in the wings. Such surroundings tended to make the Greensleeves side self-conscious, but they were nevertheless selected to appear at the Albert Hall by the judges (Roland Heath and Douglas Kennedy) one of whom observed of Queen’s Delight that “the split jump has an arm movement which I notice that they avoided tonight”. The Albert Hall meetings were themselves grand affairs, and if the programmes are to be believed the Club is likely to have danced to music directed by Ralph Vaughan-Williams or Imogen Holst.
Problems of attendance at practice were in evidence from the start. In 1930-1 they seem to have been particularly acute when the average attendance was six and two-thirds men. The Log does not tell us whether the two-thirds man danced or played music, but it must have been interesting.
The Formation Of The Morris Ring
In April 1934, Joseph Needham of Caius College, and Squire of Cambridge Morris Men, sent to William Ganiford a copy of a circular letter which had already been distributed to Morris clubs at Oxford, Thaxted, Letchworth and East Surrey. Needham apologised for the letter’s late arrival:
“By an unfortunate oversight, it was forgotten that ‘Greensleeves’ should have received a copy at the same time, and I sincerely trust that you and the members of your club will forgive this error.”
This was the letter which proposed the foundation of the Morris Ring! The error was duly forgiven and after some discussion within the club it was agreed that Greensleeves should become one of the founder members; though in his summary of the year’s activities, the Squire expressed the misgivings felt in some quarters about this move:
“It is believed and hoped that this will not in any way … curtail (the Club’s) independence.”
The association between Greensleeves and East Surrey has been a long one, the first outing taking place on May Day 1937. This was entirely successful, thanks to Greensleeves member Len Bardwell who happened also to be the East Surrey Bagman! The log comments “May it be the first of many at which the Club is represented.”
A Ring Meeting of the same year at Thaxted was the first of its kind attended by the Club. In those days meetings were devoted to formal instruction in a selected tradition or traditions on Saturday mornings followed by the public dancing of them during the remainder of the day. On this occasion the log records laconically, “yet another variety – hopefully put forward by the Squire as final – has now appeared.” Collections made during public dancing through the entire event amounted to ten pounds. During the speeches (which were too long) at the ensuing feast, there was remark on the “constant itch to improve dances which need no improvement.”
The following year the Club was again represented at Thaxted, though only two members managed to attend the later meeting at Stow-on-the-wold, and they returned with the news that “the speeches were more numerous and deadly than ever.” But this did not deter Greensleeves from attending the Spring meeting of the Ring at Cecil Sharp House in March of 1939, where
“….instruction in Headington …. under William Kimber …. was, as usual nowadays, a matter of telling us what we had learnt and danced hitherto was all wrong; for instance, in the heys we were told that the middles must always go up, which means that they never dance the figure of eight of the hey at all.”
Later that year there was another tour (May 13th) with East Surrey, again the work of Bardwell and a little under four weeks after this came the annual visit to Thaxted. It was by all accounts a good meeting, and
“In consequence of a strong rumour of free beer at Castle Hedingham all Greensleeves members allocated themselves to this tour.”
At this point we come to the outbreak of war. The first meeting of the new session was cancelled owing to so many members being involved in the evacuation of children. Subsequent practices became less frequent and the Club found it impossible to present a full side at the Ring Meeting. However, those present at the Feast decided that arrangements for the ensuing Thaxted Ring, should go ahead, but all other proposed meetings dropped. Practice was resumed in May of 1940 and continued through the summer, but entries in the Log become increasingly brief until the record is brought to an abrupt end by a short dramatic statement which seems also to mark the end of Greensleeves:
“Forced to abandon meetings owing to enemy action etc.”
The Squire now found it necessary to leave with his firm for the West Country, and at a melancholy meeting over a beer he handed over the Club’s swords and sticks contained in a golf bag to Gordon Neil, who was to carry on as Squire for the duration. But when the cessation of hostilities finally arrived, Jack Heaven remained permanently in Somerset and it fell to Gordon to organise the weekly practices.
A small nucleus of members either remained in London or were about to return there. These and other Morris men responded enthusiastically to an invitation to ‘come along’ to the first post-war meeting on June 14th, 1946. Despite extensive bomb damage, permission was obtained for the use of Trefusis Room at Cecil Sharp House, when the following men were present: William Ganiford, Spencer Ranger, Simon Freedman, Gordon Neil (these four being pre-war members), Joe Whiddett, John Bremer, Harry Cowsill, Cedric Furnivall, John Strange, Igor Jones and Mr Hayes as pianist. Within two months of this event, Greensleeves were able to send a team to the festival at Stratford-Upon-Avon during the week ending August 10th.
The last days of this festival were intended to constitute a Ring meeting, but, to quote from the log, it
“…had not the same atmosphere that previous Ring meetings have had. At the feast, beer was limited…”
which explains a great deal. It was not surprisingly a time of shortages, though the following Christmas meeting went off well enough. The appearance of Geoff Metcalf bearing sherry and biscuits met with a favourable reception when the toast was “the future of the Club and absent members”.
That was a severe winter, with some of the lowest temperatures on record, and a demonstration at Hendon had to be cancelled because the heating system in the hall was frozen solid. So it went on. No pianist turned up for the practice on February 7th. When Joe Whiddett came to the rescue with his concertina, a power cut put out the lights, compelling the dancers to leave for the “York and Albany” where drinks were served by candlelight. Nobody seemed to care.
Preparations were now put in hand for the celebration of the Club’s Twenty-first anniversary with a visit to the theatre (“Under the Counter”) followed by supper in Soho, at Chez Auguste. Mr and Mrs Douglas Kennedy were there; so too were Miss Sinclair and the Club’s founder, Cameron. Frank Masters sent his regrets from B.O.A.R. (British Army On the Rhine) in Germany: Kenneth Loveless was back at Chichester Theological College and not allowed out. But the evening showed, if it needed showing, that the Club had lost little if anything of its vitality during the enforced idleness of the war years. Regular practices were well attended and there was again a call for public demonstrations.
At some time during 1948, Greensleeves danced in a convent. After the performance, the Mother Superior commented that she had met Cecil Sharp when he was collecting the dances and trained a team, and we danced our morris as he intended it should be done. (Flattery will get you anywhere).
The following year saw the arrival of a new recruit named Leslie Nichols, and the temporary departure of Jack Snelgrove for a confrontation with his surgeon. Members offered sympathy and good wishes, coupled with warnings about nurses in general and those at the Temperance (!) Hospital in particular. In a short while, rumours were circulating about the success of the operation and Jack’s satisfactory progress with or because of some pretty Irish nurses; it has never been made clear which.
1949 also saw a Day of Dancing at Headington Quarry to mark the fiftieth anniversary of Cecil Sharp’s first meeting with William Kimber. It was by all accounts a memorable and moving occasion. Meanwhile, the dance repertoire of the Club was constantly being modified. The revival in 1950 of Papa Stour, which had not been practised since its introduction by Cameron in 1927, seems to have created a more general interest in ‘sword’ because North Skelton appeared regularly among dances practised during the following June. Alas, the repairs and restoration of bomb damage at Cecil Sharp House made life intolerable there, and the venue of weekly practices was altered with regret to St. Charles’ school, Ladbrooke Grove.
Throughout the early fifties the club undertook an increasing number of away fixtures which meant the resident musician abandoning his piano in favour of the piano-accordion. one such demonstration took place in March 1952, at Willesden County School during the interval of a pupils’ dance, when the boys showed an abundant energy and wild enthusiasm for the Morris, but none more than one of the prefects, by the name of Bert Cleaver.
Another regular function at this period in Club history was the annual Ross-On-Wye tour. Accompanied by the Lumps of Plum Pudding, Greensleeves travelled widely under the guidance of Frank Hollins who knew that part of the country intimately. By dint of careful management, he always managed to arrive the week to precede or follow the Society’s annual Festival at Stratford-on-Avon.
For the last night of the 1952 tour, dancing took place at Ross in the old covered market at the top of the town. It was raining heavily and the downpour increased in severity as the evening progressed, and space for dancing became more crowded as spectators pressed in to escape the torrential rain. But it was the best show of the week, the circumstances combining to bring out the close comradeship and mutual enjoyment of dancers and onlookers. This was the evening of the Lynmouth disaster.
Unique in the Club’s experience was their trip abroad, which took the form of a visit in July 1953 to the Festival du Folklore International involving demonstrations in Nice and Rome. This was another joint venture in the company of Lumps of Plum Pudding, one of who was smitten in France by that well know disease of travellers, ‘Egyptian stomach’. But the dancing went down well (even if the food didn’t) and the writer of the Log records that he had never heard such applause.
With the advent of the Morris Ring’s twenty-first birthday in 1955, the club was one of the host sides involved in the organisation of the July meeting in London, and leaders were provided for two of the nineteen tours, one through Pinner, Harrow and Kenton, the other covering Finchley, Swiss Cottage and Golder’s Green. The Meeting ended on the Sunday with massed dancing at Tower Hill.
Apart from frequent attendance at Ring Meetings, Greensleeves visited a number of outside functions for more formal demonstrations of the morris, such as the Isle of Wight Festival of 1961, though outings of this sort were becoming less frequent. More popular with the Club at this time was the annual meeting at Thaxted, patronised by us in 1956, 1958, ’61, ’62 and ’64. And again in 1961, we held the first of our own annual feasts at Chipperfield.
In 1963, London was again host to the Morris Ring, but tours through Soho and St Giles’ under the guidance of Greensleeves were cancelled by order of the police. The weather was bad, and the amount of rain which fell was by all accounts in the nature of a rehearsal for the London meeting of 1972 when it fell with small remission until shortly before the feast on Saturday night. Meanwhile, back in the sixties, things of consequence were happening within the Morris Ring which were come to a head in the course of the 96th meeting, held at Winchester during September 1964. And the outcome of this was the inauguration of Leslie Nichols as Squire of the Ring on Saturday 12th.
Keenness and hard work have always been characteristic of the men of Greensleeves, and if anyone doubts this, let them consider the Club visit to the 1966 Folkshow at Broadstairs, In agreeing to attend, they undertook to appear in a formal demonstration twice daily every day from 6th to 12th August inclusive, though one wonders whether the programme had been seen in advance. There were eighteen items including Abram circle, Winster, Flamborough, Abbot’s Bromley, Royton, North Skelton and rapper. Details of the hilarious and frenetic rushes to change costume can still be got from those members who were present.
We now reach the most recent decade of the Club History, marked as in other decades by important events punctuated with heavy rainfall. The downpour which greeted the 126th meeting of the Ring, held at Coventry in 1970, conformed with tradition by easing shortly before the Feast at which Bert Cleaver was inaugurated as Squire of the Ring exactly six years to the day after Leslie Nichols. And if history can be said to repeat itself, then the Club’s experience at the Festival du Folklore, in 1953, has been more than equalled at the Preston Guild of 1972, where as guests of Garstang Morris Men, we took part in an enormous torchlight procession over a three-mile route and before (how many) thousands of responsive and highly articulate spectators. It was an unforgettable experience.
1973 saw the first meeting of a committee composed of representatives of Morris Clubs located in the area of Greater London, designed to promote communication between the associated clubs and to avoid, for example, potentially stressful incidents such as the un-authorised dancing of one club on another’s ‘patch’. The committee also opened discussion with the London Tourist Board, the result of which was a scheme to present Morris Dancing at the main door of Westminster Abbey every Wednesday evening through out the tourist season; and when this came to fruition in 1974, the inaugural performance was given by Greensleeves.
Our long association with East Surrey Morris Men has continued since the war through the medium of their Whitsun, subsequently Spring Bank Holiday meetings at Peasmarsh, and from time to time they have in turn been our guests at our own annual week-end at Chipperfield. It has also been the policy of the Club to invite recently established sides of a good standard to these meetings by way of encouragement, among which were Barnsley Longsword and the Garstang Morris Men, both of whom have since been elected to membership of the Ring.
If, during the last fifty years, Club practices have departed from the original intention that they should be ‘description not Instruction’, our efforts are still to see that members ‘know their business up to a decent standard.’ We look forward with confidence to our second half century, and to the maintenance of that ‘decent standard’.
At Easter, 1977, the Club divided (amicably) in a most ambitious way. Six men, including Bert and Leslie, travelled by train and boat to a folk festival at Leuven/Louvain in central Belgium. Here they have two languages (Flemish and Walloon, being at the border of the Dutch-speaking and French-speaking parts of the country); two breweries and one university [or was it two universities and one brewery? – the memory is blurred]. Our seventh man was Antony, joining us from his (then) home in Germany. There are many strong memories from that long weekend, including: the Festival being sponsored by the Stella Artois brewery, who provided a grand total of ONE free drink over the four days!; the announcement when we arrived late on Thursday evening “the English team have now arrived – can anyone offer them accommodation?”; looking forward to the brewery visit on the Friday, only to have it cancelled because it was Good Friday as had happened for the previous two years! ; smuggling cans of beer into the hall where one of the shows took place, in a melodeon case; watching the stilt walkers falling down, into the rose garden, and not hurting themselves because of their sheep-skin waistcoats; the blizzard (at Easter!) during the procession; and dancing the cross-over in Shooting in front of the Town Hall steps (about as wide as the main hall at Cecil Sharp House) in just four huge, alcohol-assisted steps.
Meanwhile, back in the UK… Peter Chetwood and Albert, the only other main-stream musicians at that time, travelled to Halsway Manor for the Easter House Party. This left the irregular musicians to support our “leg” of the recreation of Kemp’s Jig (“the Nine Daies Wonder”) from London to Norwich, which took place the same weekend. This was organised by the Morris Clubs of London, with each club covering 4.9 miles before handing over to the next club, through the day and the night. This event achieved media attention and it was Greensleeves “leg” which was shown in one of the supporting television programmes, where the actor Chris Harris played Kemp before an audience of Morris Men and their ladies.
Lord Mayor’s Show, London
In the 1970’s, the Association of London Morris Clubs, of which Greensleeves was a founding and active member, decided to use the London Lord Mayor’s Show as an opportunity to raise public awareness by putting on a massed show on the same day. This took place in Paternoster Square, a wide precinct area between tower blocks, behind St. Paul’s Cathedral. The event was well attended by Morris Men and their followers but never managed to compete successfully for the large crowds that swelled the nearby streets. Each team danced one or perhaps two dances individually, as well as massed performances. Typically Greensleeves would (by our choice or by request) usually perform the longsword dance from North Skelton, as a contrast to the exclusively Cotswold Morris of the rest of the show. At this time, we danced to the accompaniment of a harmonica (in retrospect, one wonders how many of the audience could hear anything) and one memory from this period is of the year that its player, Stephen Mark, arrived in London on the wrong side of the procession and was unable to cross it in time for our show. A very reluctant Bert Cleaver had to be persuaded to play for us.
Greensleeves began (as is our wont) to become discontent with the limited amount of dancing we were able to do on the day. The Black Friar public house, built into the arches of Blackfriars Bridge, had recently changed hands and the new landlord had cleaned the inside to find wonderful copper illustrations inset into the marble walls, under decades of soot and grime. We began to migrate to this venue after our “spot” at Paternoster Square, learning that if we started up our show as the Lord Mayor’s coach went past, we could turn the crowd round to create a ready-made audience. This continued for many years (long after the massed shows at the bleak Paternoster Square had discontinued) eventually being killed off by security concerns on behalf of the extra police brought into the city for the (main) event. We then sought other similar sites and for many years manipulated the crowd opposite St. Paul’s in a similar fashion, returning to the Black Friar from time to time.
In 1997, Greensleeves received an invitation to dance in the procession itself. The invitation came about in an unexpected manner. The incoming Lord Mayor wanted something to add colour and spectacle to the float for his own livery company – the Worshipful Company of Solicitors, represented by tradition by his own work colleagues. He heard that his cousin, John, knew some Morris dancers, though apparently not that they frequently visited the village and its green which his own house overlooked. The village of course was Chipperfield – Lord Mayor Richard Nichols is apparently totally unaware of the long and active involvement which his other cousin, Leslie, had with Greensleeves.
Anyway, a “three-line whip” was issued to encourage as many men as possible to come and dance (which they did). In addition, the Bagman rustled up a number of extra musicians from other clubs, who ably assisted those of our musicians who were not already dancing. The day was hot and the procession hard work. The “float” consisted of a small tractor towing a trailer of similar size in the shape of a bowler hat. Because we were restricted in the length of our “slot” in the procession, we were not allowed to precede or follow it, therefore we split our fourteen dancers into two sets for Winster, one each side of the float. In the event, of course, the procession stretched and we were therefore dancing four abreast when we passed St. Paul’s and achieved further television coverage. In fact, the musicians were heard for considerably longer than the dancers were shown, especially since the commentator had no information about us at all, except for the single line which he read from the souvenir programme, singularly omitting the Club’s name. This was subsequently to result in various requests for identification both in local folk magazines and on the Internet. Sadly, despite his valiant (and successful) efforts at keeping the crowd entertained, ex-Squire Peter Brunton, in a borrowed hobby horse, failed to reach the television audience on this occasion.
May Morning
Soon after our move of practice venue to Wimbledon, it was suggested that we start our own tradition of dancing the sun up on the first day of May (it was universally agreed that this should not migrate to the “May Day” Bank Holiday, on the first Monday of the month). The site chosen was the windmill on Wimbledon Common and from that first fledgling appearance has gone from strength to strength. In fact, it often attracts one of the best attendances of dancers in the year, although the same cannot always be said of the audience. Somewhere along the line, it was decided to invite the Mayor of Merton to the event and, to our surprise, the invitation was accepted. In subsequent years it has become part of the official calendar of events for the Mayor, who has appeared almost every year. On several occasions we have been told that the Mayor has, to their own surprise, actually enjoyed the event. This may owe some small reason to the now regular appearance of hot coffee and something a little stronger to go in it (as started by Geoff Trewinnard – for many, our first experience of “Pusser’s Rum”). After the show, a full cooked breakfast is taken at a local bar (initially the Rose and Crown, now the Squash Club), with other beverages for those that will, followed by a rousing sing-song.
Once again, the media have shown occasional interest in the event but have never really come to terms with our timing. Radio 4’s “Today” programme did manage to include a report on the morning they sent along a radio car, albeit recorded after we had finished. And the local radio station’s roving reporter (on a bicycle) managed to catch up with us in the bar the year he was despatched to meet us. However, the television crew who had already arrived when the first dancer arrived on the scene at 5 a.m. singularly failed to get their cameras ready until the planned show was already over. An “Action Replay” was organised for them but by 7 a.m. (one and a half hours after sunrise) they were still not in a position to film. And they seemed so offended when we said “enough is enough” and left them, to have our breakfast!
Shows
Over the years, we have taken part in hundreds of shows, all over the country. Whereas they originally consisted almost entirely of visits to hostelries, there has been an move over time to take advantage of the various shopping precincts and shopping malls where toady’s crowds gather. Many events have been evening tours to a couple of pubs in a particular area, organised by one of our members. Others have been days or weekends of dancing, organised by Greensleeves or other clubs. Some of these, particularly those occurring on a regular basis, deserve a mention.
Our principal Club weekend occurs in July each year, based at Chipperfield in Hertfordshire. Tours spread out into the surrounding area, usually by coach but sometimes using a fleet of vintage buses. We are usually joined by a couple of visiting clubs and also by many individuals who have become part of the greater Greensleeves “clan” over the years. All of these camp on the school field or find local accommodation wherever they can. Unlike some clubs, Greensleeves’ men, supported by their families, provide all the catering on this and other Club events. For many years, a massed show was held on the Saturday afternoon in Watford Town Centre but, in more recent years, this has proved impractical. A feature that has developed on the Sunday, from 1976, is an open-air church service on the edge of the Common, with music provided by the Morris Men. This is then followed by a massed show from all the participants and then a procession to the Windmill Inn for refreshment and more dancing.
Over the August Bank Holiday weekend, the Club used to visit Tewksbury, in Gloucestershire, for a family camping weekend organised by one of our past Squires whose job took him to the area – Bernard Beecher. These weekends included visits to the city of Cheltenham, where pedestrianisation has created an excellent location for dancing, and the beautiful village on Upton-on-Severn. On the very first year we danced here, Bernard’s concern that we would not get enough dancing had resulted in a very packed Saturday programme. By Sunday morning at Upton, the men were moving very gingerly and groaning. This might seem inevitable after the amount of beer that had been consumed the previous day but the reason for the distress was – sore knees! Despite that, it proved to be the first of many highly successful and popular weekends, now sadly (but appropriately) ended.
Prior to the start of the Tewkesbury weekends, the Club used to go to a similar weekend hosted by the Taunton Deane Morris Men. Along with our two Clubs, the East Surrey Morris Men were later invited to take part, beginning some long friendships. Two incidents from that period of our history stand out. Firstly, all three clubs have the otherwise unusual tradition of not wearing hats. One year, by chance, none of our Fools were able to attend. Since they were also the collectors for each club, it was realised that no-one had anything to collect in. As a result, that weekend saw audiences being encouraged to place their contributions in “the lucky Morris tankard” and “the lucky Morris drum”! Another year, we were dancing outside a pub late one dark evening and noticed the lights of a car approaching up the valley. As it got nearer we saw that it was a police car and wondered whether we would be obliged to stop our performance, which was taking place in the road itself. Imagine our horror, instead, to see the local men break away from the crowd, rush towards the car and start bouncing up and down on its bonnet! When the driver emerged with a grin, we discovered that the local club included three police officers in their team, including this one, who was traffic inspector for the area. It was these weekends that started Greensleeves’ love of playing pub skittles, something which Bernard incorporated from the start into the Tewkesbury weekends.
The links forged on those weekends brought East Surrey as regular visitors to Chipperfield; and Greensleeves as regulars at East Surrey’s family camping weekend over the Whit (subsequently Late May Bank Holiday) weekend. This is based on the village of Peasmarsh but extends around much of the area of the Cinque Ports, including the historic port of Rye, now some miles from the sea.
One other event has continued for many years, being our Boxing Day tour. In the early 1970’s, this was taking place at Ickenham, Bucks., being near to the then-Bagman’s home (the writer recalls one bleak day when the dancing site was covered in a sheet of ice, but still the show went on). When Geoff took over as Bagman, the event re-located to the Richmond area, ending with a party at his house (or sometimes Ian’s). The nearby “Home and Hospital for the Incurables” (since mercifully renamed) was approached to see if they would appreciate a private show for the patients, to which they acquiesced. We entered the magnificent halls with some trepidation, not knowing what to expect, and found some two dozen wheelchairs drawn up in a circle, like a wagon train. To one side was a huge coffin-like apparatus, presumed to be an “iron lung”. The occupant was able to observe the proceedings via a small mirror. The sight of those two eyes, and the joy behind them, made a lasting impression on those who caught a glimpse from within the dance. Our Boxing Day tour, although having moved again (with the change of Bagman) to Wimbledon and with our party having moved to a different date, still starts from that hospital each year.
In recent years, further weekends at Chichester and in the Barnsley area have started up as a result of other members having moved to those areas.
Two other weekends, organised by other clubs, deserve comment. In the North-West, the traditions of the Morris differ from those of the Cotswold traditions which Greensleeves generally follow. (In fact, for many years Greensleeves danced a North-West Morris dance, from Royton in Lancashire. By the 1970’s, although this was still practised, it was no longer being performed and, despite revivals at practices, this situation remains unchanged.) In 198?, the Saddleworth Morris Men broke with tradition and invited Cotswold Morris clubs, amongst them Greensleeves, to join them in their traditional Rush-cart festivities (although we didn’t realise it when invited, this decision caused considerable ill-feeling amongst some in the North-West). The tradition is that a cart piled high with rushes is pushed around the area from one church to the next, where the freshly cut rushes are strewn on the church floor to last for another year. These days, with central heating and carpets, the rushes are no longer laid but the procession remains.
The rush-cart has teams of Morris men in their gaily-coloured costumes fore and aft of it to pull it up and slow its descent down the many hills in the area, all accompanied by music and carnival crowds. We intruders from the Cotswold tradition had much plainer costumes but one distinct advantage – we wore shoes, rather than iron-shod clogs! We were still taken by surprise when the teams in front began to run down hill, leaving those of us on the rear traces to slip and slide as we struggled to keep the cart under control. The sparks were literally flying from those in clogs, that day. And (once again literally) to cap it all, one poor soul is picked each year for the “honour” of riding on the rush-cart – 20 feet up and without a safety net. He was kept topped up with plenty of beer during a very hot day and looked distinctly queasy when eventually allowed down.
Another traditional event in the North-West, which only occurs every ?25 years, is the Preston Guild. Greensleeves have been honoured to be invited to attend on the last two occasions, again for a very spectacular and colourful series of processions.
Beyond our shores
Our members have tended to disperse across the length and breadth of the country over the years, either through the demands of employment or the pleasures of retirement. For a couple of members, this migration has taken them across the seas. Robin Harrison emigrated to Canada to set up a dental practice there. Inevitably, he is still actively involved in the Morris and visited us at Chipperfield in 2004 with his “local” team. In a reciprocal move Greensleeves will be sending a side to Toronto in summer 2005.
For Antony Heywood, there was less choice about his destiny since, having a young family, the alternatives of “move to Germany or be made redundant” gave no option. A similar demand some years later resulted in a further move, this time to Holland. Here, Antony and his family became involved in the Dutch Folk Dance organisation, which he eventually became Chairman of. He also became very active with Helmond Morris Men, who have visited Chipperfield on various occasions. In 1982, the Club was invited to a very successful weekend based on Helmond, which was to be repeated later in 1998.
Other media appearances
Our first fool, Geoff Trewinnard, appeared as such on “What’s My Line” (out of kit) but narrowly failed to defeat the panel.
The Club put up a team for an advert for Fosters Lager, on the strict understanding that they would not be required to drink the stuff! The team had to arrive very early in the morning, then hang around waiting because it was too dark for the cameras. Filming took place over several hours, with real beer supplied. During this time, one of the temporary signs put up to cover the real pub name crashed down, narrowly missing one of the actors “drinking” at the table below. After this excursion, “Balance the Straw” was known as “Fosters” for short.
Another team from the Club took part in the first series of “You Bet!”. The pretext was that Harvey Smith had agreed to do a dance if his challenge was not achieved, which narrowly happened (luckily it had been pre-recorded so we knew that we would not have a wasted journey, even if he had no idea of what would happen). We danced into the studio to Wheatley then performed a truncated Balance the Straw. Alan Chetwood (having succeeded Geoff as Fool) had a few words with Bruce Forsyth before Harvey was brought into the set. Suffice it to say that the chap who stood in for him at the rehearsal would have been welcome at any Club practice.
Relations with the Morris Ring
Following the Club’s highly successful first Ring meeting in our Golden Jubilee year, 1926, another was organised in 1979. Whilst not as spectacularly successful as our first, it was nevertheless well-received and enjoyed by those attending. However, there was not to be a further repeat for the next twenty years.
The Club had already supplied the Ring Squire on two previous occasions (Leslie Nichols and Bert Cleaver) and relations with the Morris Ring were sometimes stormy as different men with differing ideas took office, then moved on having completed their term. At one Ring Meeting that the Club attended, the behaviour of Headington Quarry Morris Men so upset those in charge that that club was suspended from the organisation. Kenneth Loveless was so upset by this and other incidents that he refused to wear their kit any more and instead took office as Ring Squire in the colours of his first club, Greensleeves. On his travels around the country, he was accompanied by Bert, such that they were able to perform jigs on request (with Kenneth playing, it should be pointed out). This was the start of improved relations with the Ring, which have remained more stable over the 1990’s.
Practices
Towards the end of the 1970’s/start of the 1980’s, the cost of running practices at Fox School, Kensington began to spiral. A new venue was sought and, since the then-bagman lived in the London Borough of Merton, we moved to that borough as one of their evening classes. We maintained the same basis of a teacher and “accompanist” being paid (in fact their “fee” went into the Club coffers) with the rest of the Club paying as class members. We were not one of the smallest classes! After some years, this arrangement, too, began to be prohibitively expensive, with the result that (at the time of writing) we have ended up in the dance studio of the Wimbledon Squash and Badminton Club. The one problem that this latest arrangement has given us is that we are constrained by the size of the room, as we were at Fox School.
Another aspect that has changed with the differing venues is the subject of refreshment. At Fox School, although one or two men met up at a pub beforehand, everybody used to go to the pub in the interval (this itself was a change from the practice in the 1960’s & early 1970’s, when we used to go to the school canteen for a real cup of tea, hence the pub visit became known as “tea-break”). Self-discipline must have been very strong because everyone also returned after one or two quick pints for the second half. After a time, the number of people staying on for a drink after practice increased such that it became part of the routine for most.
With the move to Wimbledon, the opportunity for a mid-session break was lost. Many men had a longer journey and those that lived locally mostly had young children so the pre-practice session remained small. A variety of local pubs enjoyed our company after practice. The move to the Squash Club, with its own bar, has meant that those who wish to can drink all evening (and some do). As this period has also included a greater awareness and tightening of the drink-drive regulations, many of those who are obliged to drive have had to become more wary.
Costume
Greensleeves’ costume has shown remarkable consistency, at least over the last thirty years. It consists of the “basic” costume of white shirts and socks, with black knee-breeches (which had replaced the earlier white trousers, presumably being considered more practical). Specific to the Club are cross-baldricks in wide green braid, decorated with red and black rosettes; green braid bell-pads worn below the knee; and, to signify full Club membership, a green rosette on an armband (the “green sleeve”) on each arm. In order to gain the latter, individuals are required to dance a solo jig in public (or, in at least one case, to play for the same) unless awarded them on an honorary basis. By the 1970’s, most men had changed from the earlier regulation of being allowed to select their choice of baldrick rosette colour to the standard of red and black. However, one set with orange rosettes continued to appear until the 1976 Ring meeting.
For this event, it was decided to provide all Club members attending (even those whose dancing days were over) with new baldricks. Enquiries were made to suppliers of braid and samples obtained. To our horror, we discovered that there was no longer any supplier of the width of braid we wished to use, with the only alternative being to join two widths together – a choice that many felt would look less than good. It was one of our wives who came up with the solution, with the result that Brenda Godrich spent most of the next six months frantically weaving miles of braid by hand to meet the deadline. Teams of men and wives made up this braid and purchased narrow braid into the required sets. In addition, it was agreed to have a souvenir plate to replace the central front rosette. These engraved plates, which acquired the nick-name of “shaving mirrors” caused many a problem over the years, as their weight unbalanced the baldricks for those whose girth did not secure them.
Some twenty years later, it was decided that the “kit” was again starting to show its age and need replacement. We had also run out of supplies of the braid that Brenda had slaved over. Another member, Colin Sawyer, now undertook to learn the art of weaving and to manufacture supplies of all widths and colours of braid required. He also spent many hours making up a set of this latest “new” kit for each active member.
One question which has generated much “hot air” over the years is that of hats. Certainly, photographs of the Club abroad in the 1950’s show the men in straw hats (and white trousers).
Apart from the Fools (and, arguably, the hobby horses), hats have not been part of the costume for at least thirty years. There have also been many discussions about the need for a regulation “outer garment”. Numerous individuals have produced their own suggestions, such as the jackets used by the Scout Association and emerald green knitted jumpers. At one stage, Bert manufactured a number of green fisherman’s smocks for club members, however these did not receive universal approval and the remainder are now a mixture of colours, after spillages and washes. Similar reactions resulted from the availability of sweatshirts, etc. Embroidered with the club logo.
Club Officials
At the start of the period covered by these notes, there were only two Club officials – the Squire and the Bagman. By the end of the century, both rôles had been split. The first occurred at the time when the standing Squire had decided not to continue (the Club has never imposed fixed terms of office, although elected officers are now re-confirmed on a bi-annual basis). It went something like this “I propose x as Squire if Bert will stand as Foreman.” (This was from someone who was to subsequently hold office as Squire, himself.) As far as most of us were concerned, this was the first time in the Club’s history that a separate Foreman existed, although it has recently come to light that John Hylton had held this position a generation earlier. After many years, Bert decided to call it a day and was succeeded in turn by Phil Rowson; Steve Parker; Martin Godrich; and Alan Chetwood.
Musicians
In the 1970’s, there were four musicians routinely playing for shows and practices. These were: the late Leslie Nichols on English concertina (who always maintained that he “wasn’t a real musician” but obtained a wonderful tone and lilt, especially when he acquired a new instrument); Bert Cleaver on pipe and tabor (when he wasn’t dancing – he was the only one of this quartet to dance regularly); Peter Chetwood on piano accordion (who started by learning the English concertina at practices “hoping no-one would hear him”, whilst waiting to drive his son, Alan, home. People did notice and he was encouraged, particularly by Leslie, and eventually worked up to show standard); and Albert Redman on violin (he started as a dancer but changed gradually to become almost exclusively a musician).
At one time (possibly the 1976 Ring Meeting), it was realised that there were thirteen musicians who could (and sometimes did) play for shows or practices. They were brought together in various combinations for such occasions as providing the music for the open-air church services at the annual Chipperfield weekend but never all appeared together, except possibly at a “session” in one hostelry or another. Those who, in addition to the four above, have played on a regular or occasional basis since then include:
Stephen Mark
Harmonica
Brian Heaton, Peter Chetwood and Neil Barrett
Accordions
Vic Godrich, Albert Redman and Peter Bowden
Violins
Ian James, Alan Jeffries and Kenneth Loveless
Anglo concertinas
Alan Jeffries, Mike Bull, Philip Trewinnard, John Box and Robin Harrison
Melodeons
Bert Cleaver, Mike Cogan and Chris Benson
Pipe and tabor
Peter Brunton
English concertina
Philip Rowson and Alan Chetwood
Flutes
Honorary Members
For our Jubilee Ring Meeting in 1976 it was decided to introduce the concept of honorary membership as a means of thanking individuals who had assisted the Club significantly. At the time, we didn’t realise quite what an effect we would have. The new Vicar of Chipperfield village, where we have held a weekend of dance for many years, had taken up his post to find that his inherited flock was very small. He therefore determined to go to the people and not wait for them to come to the Church, becoming a regular visitor to the local hostelries amongst other things. He actively encouraged us to include a church service as part of our weekends. On these occasions, the Church was filled beyond its seating capacity. We suggested to the incumbent, John Richardson, that it would be better if we asked the Morris Men to stand, to be told “Nonsense! If they [the locals] can’t be bothered to come at other times, they can jolly well stand now!” It was this attitude, along with his enthusiasm to learn a song to sing when invited to our Feast that resulted in the awarding of honorary membership to him. From then on, he proudly wore his “sleeves” over his vestments when we were around. However it was not long afterwards that he was moved on to Rickmansworth parish. It is gratifying that he still keeps in touch, despite having moved again, this time to Bedford.
Our second honorary membership was conferred on the landlord of the Windmill Inn, again in Chipperfield village, who provided sterling service over the years: letting us take over the pub when we visited the village; supplying and setting up barrels of beer for our various events at halls in the village; and even letting us use his barn, behind the pub, to practice for shows such as the visit to Louvain in 1977. Sadly, he too left the village shortly after we had honoured him.
The suggestion was made that another Church of England minister, the Very Reverend Kenneth Loveless, should also be made an honorary member, as had already been done by several other clubs. However, an examination of the first Club Log (and lively discussions with Kenneth himself) revealed that he had already become a member on his merits, since he started his dancing as a club member with Greensleeves, between the wars.
Ancillary characters
After his period as Greensleeves Squire ended, Geoff decided that he wished to continue dancing but cut down a bit. With the agreement of Club members, he began to appear as the Fool, with pigs bladder and a puppet Robin Goodfellow on a stick. Those who saw him charging around the set, attempting to “bladder” every dancer in a single chorus may wonder whether his intention to ease down was actually achieved. When he retired to the Welsh borders, Alan Chetwood took on the rôle in a rag coat and bowler, carrying a hand bell with which to gain the audience’s attention. In subsequent years, Mike Cogan in full Cavalier regalia; and Keith Duke in smock and with bladder have also taken on the task of catching the crowd’s attention. On a few occasions, audiences have even been entertained by up to three Fools simultaneously attempting to draw their attention towards (and never away from) the dance.
By the 1990’s, a succession of hooden horses also appeared at shows – Griff and then Groff displayed their plumage to assorted onlookers.
In the mid 1990’s, further characters were to appear, principally at Yuletide. These were the members of the Wimbledon Mummers Play, which has gone from strength to strength by employing such memorable lines as “What we need now is a lady from the audience.” “A lady? This is Wimbledon, you know!”