The English Ale 2015 – and how to make Dobbin more social and worldly

As some of my readers (I doubt some of you are regulars, just surfers) may know from my previous post, my hobby horse Dobbin has now attended a few folk festivals and morris dancing events. He’s been to Lavandula Harvest Festival twice, Newstead Music Festival twice, probably others I cannot think of from the top of my head, and in April he went to the National Folk Festival in Canberra, where he was seen riding a unicycle. Now he’s been to South Australia to the Adelaide Hills. And with luck he will come with me to Tasmania in a couple of months.

Firstly, I’m here to talk about going to The English Ale, an event run in the Adelaide Hills in Mylor, a small place South West of the famous township of Hahndorf. 

Run by South Australian pagans and the band Spiral Dance, the Ale runs for one day every May, usually in the middle of the month. I don’t know much about how the festival has evolved over the years, because this English Ale was my first one and all I want to do here, is talk about what I saw and experienced.

Weeks before the event, I spoke to one of the organisers Adrienne from Spiral Dance, someone I’ve known for about 15 years now, and asked her if I could bring my hobby horse Dobbin to walk in the procession that precedes the Wicker Man burning and ritual. She said yes, that he would be very welcome. I also decided to bring my homemade horse mask – the ‘Nightmare’ or ‘Kelpie’ (water horse) – to represent Winter. I would wear the Kelpie mask while riding the colourful Dobbin, who represented Summer. As Winter is on its way, the Kelpie has control of the summery Tourney Horse. I thought this highly appropriate.

Me riding Dobbin with a horse mask.

 My travelling companions and I arrived before 11am and while they put up tents, I attended the Druids of Oz talks – two about sacred temples and one about plants of Australia that are similar to European ones. I missed one of the sacred temples talks, but made it to the second one – very interesting talks.

After that I went and had lunch and got ready to do some morris dancing. I had decided to wear, not my Red Raven morris side kit, but my Thieving Magpie morris kit – my UK side. Since there were no other Red Raven’s there, I thought going as a Magpie was better. Kind of exciting wearing my UK tatters in Australia!!!

This was when I got to finally meet the South Australian sides – Adelaide Morris Men, Hedgemonkey, Lancashire Witches, and Hot for Joe - and even a Melbourne side I know well – the Britannia Morris men – had come along. Rob, Jacka and George were there, so they let me dance Bampton’s ‘Chook Chasing’ with them, just so I get a chance to dance something! 

I got a ticket for the concert that night, then chilled out by the tent, rugging up a bit before getting ready to gather by the oval to begin the procession.

Three items: Black tatter dress, Kelpie horse head, hobby horse. 

With help from my friends I dressed up and was ready to go! The procession went around the oval, while the oval itself was covered in people watching and taking pictures. We were accompanied by musicians and melodian players, morris dancing and lit the way by fiery torches…

In the parade were a few giants – ‘Petal’ was one of them, there was a devil, two Jacks-In-The-Green, morris dancers, people in tatters carrying torches and 3 of us as hobby horses. I did not see much else because I was in the parade and had limited visibility as the Kelpie mask has a veil that hides my face. I’ve not ridden Dobbin for years because the made the hole small enough to fit a thinner rider, but have now made it larger for other riders like me, so it was quite a pleasure to ride him for the first time in years, if not ever!

The procession went slowly enough around the oval for all the people to see, before the procession turned off into a small field to surround the patient Wicker Man. 

The ritual was conducted, the Wicker Man set alight, and everyone held hands to spiral around the burning man and I rode around between the bonfire and the line of people. Eventually the bonfire burned down and I went to the campsite to get changed and have some dinner.

Towards 10pm we went up to the town hall and got ourselves a drink (Jacka bought me a cider!) and we warmed up inside, before going into the hall to watch the bands. When Spiral Dance started I often danced with Cathy and Gabby and we had a grand time letting loose on the dance floor before packing up the chairs in the hall, and heading back to camp. After sitting by the campfire, noticing how cold it was getting, and going to bed at 3am, I found it hard to sleep because of the cold. I did sleep at some point, but boy, it was a cold night and hurt my throat to breathe the cold, damp air! I woke early to say goodbye to Frances and her partner, who were camping next to us, and then tried to sleep again. The sun on the tent made it begin to warm up just as I was ready to get up. The sun itself was wonderfully warm during the day, but the nights bitter. We sat around and relaxed, but I wandered down Mylor’s main road to find Gabby’s B+B and visit her and two other good Victorian friends of mine who just happened to pop in to visit her. We had a good gossip and laugh. 

On my return to the campsite, we had decided to pack up and return to Cathy’s place in Adelaide, so did just that, had a great pasta bolognaise for tea and played a long round of Cards against Humanity before crashing.

On the Monday we went to Hahndorf, where I bought some awesome souvenirs and had a buffet lunch at one of the pubs. Then we hit the road to Victoria before 3pm. 

Had a great time in South Australia, where I have not been since about 1987, catching up with old friends, meeting new ones, and ones I have worked on projects with that I was yet to meet, and attend a pretty brilliant event that I will attend again and again, probably with Dobbin. It’s good to see him out and about socialising and getting around in all sort of pagan and morris dancing events these days. 

The English Ale is definitely worth attending if you can…

 

Hot for Joe

Britannia

 

Lancashire Witches

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hobby Horse renovation - Dobbin gets bell pads

It’s not often that you find a hobby horse like Dobbin in Australia. There are hobby horses out there, but I’m yet to see one like my Dobbin. I recall greatly desiring to own a homemade hobby horse, especially after watching ‘The Wicker Man’ (1973). A short time later in 2005, I was given a wicker basket horse head without asking for one. That year Dobbin was created using a heavy metal ring for a body which resulted in being a bad choice for a hobby horse. To read a detailed account of creating Dobbin in the early days, visit this very blog on this page here.

Dobbin is what you’d call a Tourney Hobby Horse, although Dobbin has no fake legs, nor does the rider. His body sits at waist length and he has straps to hold up the rider, (these days that is usually my fellow morris dancing friend Martin). Some similarities come from the Wicker Man film.

With the help of friends, I used scrap material to create a skirt and some flags with bells, very much like the one used in the Wicker Man film. My wicker basket horse head’s mouth could not move. I’ve not been bothered about that, but often get comments from people about how it should snap open and shut. I’d have to destroy the wicker head a little to achieve that. I focused on decorating the head and bridle, and getting friends to contribute to the hobby horse, by painting some sort of pagan-style design onto the flags I cut to shape. 

Version 1.0 (2005)

Version 1.0 of Dobbin lasted only one festival. He was used in a 2005 Beltane ritual (late October for Australia) and afterward, the metal ring was discarded due to it being too heavy and hard to handle. My blacksmith friend made the ring for me, and I feel bad that it was not good to use. As far as I knew, the ring was abandoned at our friends house – not sure what happened to it after that. Even the pictures of that Beltane ritual were too blurry to show here on this blog post. 

Version 2.0 (2006)

Version 2.0 in October 2006 ready to use

After living in the UK for a few months (April – August 2006), I returned with new ideas for Dobbin. A lighter bamboo frame was designed and made by a friend – it was fish-shaped, and I simply re-gathered the skirt to fit, abandoned some of the flags (because this horse was smaller) and made some better straps for him. 

This version of Dobbin lasted until 2015. Gradually becoming a bit battered and faded, losing a few bells, some mirror squares off his red bridle, his gilded eyelids getting a bit tarnished, and his bamboo frame beginning to weaken at the joints, Dobbin only really went to the same Beltane festival once a year – other than that, he sat at home in an old mattress bag, or leaning against a wall in a storage shed. In dire need of a ‘make-over’, Dobbin began to suddenly get out more.

Dobbin version 2.0 in January
2015 in dire need of renovation

In the last 9 years that this version of Dobbin has existed, I lived in England for 10 and a half months. While over there, as some of you know, I was a member of a Morris side and attended over a dozen folk festivals in the 9 months that I was in the side. On my return (Sept 2012), I, naturally, joined a morris side here, something I’d been meaning to do for years, but did not until I’d been in one somewhere else in the world. Now that I am attending folk festivals and morris dance-outs, Dobbin gets brought to events, once I’d told the morris side I was in that I had a hobby horse – not something a 30-something girl would usually admit to owning. I was even more eager to fix Dobbin up now, as his frame needed seeing to and other things mended. 

 He was also becoming a bit dated for me. Some of the flags I had made had no meaning for me anymore and I chose to do something else for him, make him more folk dancing related rather than pagan-esque. Then Dobbin got invited to the 2015 National Folk Festival in Canberra on Easter weekend. Time to get him fixed up – this gives me a time limit.

 Version 2.1 (2015)

Version 2.1
March 2015 in Ballan all
new and ready for play

Initially I was calling this new Dobbin Version 3.0 but he isn’t really – nothing on him has changed except adding more colour to his skirt, and making new flags for him – his frame is the same. 

I sat down one night a few weeks ago and pulled him apart, bits of glue and leather and wire falling off his frame, I looked with disgust at the way I had secured his frame – it was not greatly done, but I knew what to do this time (being an artist and crafty person, you grow with knowledge). Cable Ties! The magical wonder of Cable Ties! And duct tape! Huzzah!

I was told that I had to make Dobbin ready for the weekend of 22^nd March, so two weeks before then, I pulled him apart and made plans to get him prettier. 

I’d cut some squares from all my scrap material ages ago, to make patchwork cushions, but decided to use them for Dobbin instead. Sewing like a Trojan for a few days, I made a few sections of diamond-shaped patchwork and added it to the green patchwork skirt. I fixed the frame with cable ties (win!) and lots of duct tape, and the frame was wonderfully straight and secure now. 

Then I made new larger and wider flags and painted all 6 styles of English Folk dancing on them – Welsh Border, Cotswold, North West, Rapper, Long Sword and Molly. Here is 4 of the 6 dance styles. And then he had to have bell pads like all the other morris dancers...

I even made him his own bell pads

And I painted a White Dragon English flag too, replacing a St George flag. Screw St George, I’d rather the Dragon. 

The English White Dragon

I had to get Dobbin finished on Friday the 20^th March, since I was working all weekend and going out for dinner on the Saturday, so Friday was my last chance before handing him over at 10.30am on Sunday the 22^nd at the Ballan Autumn Festival in time for the parade. I succeeded in getting him done – all put together, hand sewn and back to normal – this time, a bit prettier. Also he was covered with more bells than before.

Note the Cotswold flag

Dobbin jingled away down the streets of Ballan when I passed him over to Martin and Marie, and later they took him home to fix his straps to suit their needs for the National Folk Festival two weeks later. This folkie has just finished now, although I did not see any images of him online, I am hoping Dobbin had a great weekend in Canberra (he should have – he got invited but I didn’t!) I was told that Dobbin might ride a unicycle. I requested video footage if that were ever to happen!

What would be awesome is if Dobbin and I could tour the UK. I’d take him to Banbury Hobby Horse Festival and other folkie events with my Morris side the Thieving Magpies.

Final note: On writing this blog post, I found this eerily similar hobby horse from England...

Colin Whirly-Gig of Hoxne Hundred
Morris dancers - photo by Mark Bullimore

Abbots Bromley Horn Dance 2012

Abbots Bromley Horn Dance is believed to have been running since the Barthelmy Fair, granted to the Abbots of Burton by Henry III in 1226, celebrating Bartholomew’s Day – August 24^th. The changing of the Julian Calender in 1752 has moved the Fair to the beginning of September, and the Fair became one day, rather than three days. Yet the horns have been dated to centuries before – circa 11^th century – and being reindeer antlers, they obviously came from Scandinavia, probably down the River Trent and into the Staffordshire region.

The Horn dance day is always held on a Monday – Here is how you remember which day it is on. It’s always ‘the Monday following the first Sunday after the fourth of September’ – remember that folks, many a person has turned up on the wrong Monday and been disappointed…..

Abbots Bromley Horn Dance

So I managed to go to the Abbots Bromley Horn Dance in 2012 on the 10^th of September. My friend Steve goes every year, and has done since 1989. So when I thought I could go, I emailed Steve about it, he told me he could not go, but told me how much it was going to cost me to go via public transport. It did not seem worth it, considering if I had to travel there myself, funds were low, and I had plane tickets to buy to get back home to Australia.  But then Steve changed his mind, saying he would be able to go and help me pay for my travel there. Suddenly that was it – I was going!

I met Steve at Wakefield station at 10am, and we made our way south to Derby, then to Uttoxeter where a cab driver was waiting for us – Steve books him every year, so he knows him personally. From there, the village was about a 15 – 20 min drive away.

In Abbots Bromley, you found yourself in a relatively untouched village – a typical Staffordshire village at that – with not much changed. Some of the buildings here still are certainly medieval. We were dropped off at the Buttercross – a hexagonal shaped building near the green that was used for market day over many centuries – I’ve seen one other like it in Bungay, in Suffolk. This one is more medieval looking, the Bungay one looks Georgian. Someone there that day told me what a Buttercross was – at market, it was where people bought butter, milk and eggs.

The Buttercross, with the Goat's
Head pub behind it

We visited a pagan art stall – a longhaired, bearded attractive man named Chris Bell, selling his pagan art in the market and I bought a few as gifts for people back home. After that we had our first pint at the Goat’s Head pub, and met some of Steve’s pagan friends there. Great chats with people I’d just met, who had good stories to tell. Even Steve had stories to tell about his annual jaunts to Abbots Bromley. As he’s been coming since 1989, he had a few tales, and I think, could write a book about the goings on that he had witnessed over the years – the pagan camps, the large and small crowds, the popularity of the event, and how they’ve evolved. One story he told was about how he and his pagan friends were sitting in the pub or somewhere and a tradesman came along and asked them about runes – he had seen some around the village – under the tiles of the old roofs and houses – dating back centuries, probably even the middle ages. They had been scratched into the architecture of the old buildings – some of these probably not repaired for many centuries. Sketching the runes for the pagans, the tradesman was told they may have been symbols of protection upon the house. Kind of reminds me of the concealed shoes superstition. Now THAT would be good article.

The Church House

After our pint, we went to the old Church House – that is certainly medieval or even later, but definitely one of the oldest houses in the village. They put on a great spread there – sandwiches and cakes to eat, and endless tea – we had our lunch there – well, a small lunch, we also ate more later on.

 

 

 

St Nicholas Parish Church down from the Church House

Steve took me to the St Nicholas Parish Church to see where the horns are kept. I could tell by looking at it, parts of it were Saxon, and like all Saxon churches, had been added to over the years, especially in the Norman times. Saxon and Norman buildings go together a lot here. This one was quite a lovely church. The bars that hang the horns up are there, and even the old hobby horse from years ago – I’ve seen old images from the 70’s of that hobby horse being ridden about the place – it says that it is from the middle ages – could it actually be that old? I often hold doubt of things like this – what looks medieval, could have been made as recently as the 19^th century. They use a new one in the dance now. There were also glass cabinets holding the regalia and costumes of horn dancers past.

St Nicholas Parish Church

Racks for hanging horns

Horn dancers past

Where they hang the horns for 364 days of the year

There was also a story from Steve about the pagans who actually came to church services in previous Horn dance weekends, in their velvet robes and pentacles, and sat in the front row, much to the annoyance of the vicar. The Christian locals preferred to sit up the back as far away from the pagans as possible. Would have loved to have seen that.

 

In the churchyard, the ground surrounding the church was raised, as if it was small pre-Christian mound. It makes us wonder if indeed a Saxon church was here, maybe something before it existed. Steve also showed me a headstone, belonging to a man that was once a leader of the horn dancers – and it says that on his headstone. He belonged to the Fowell family, and they are the official horn dancers – their family and another one are the only members that can dance, and have been for many, many generations.  Steve also told me about another friend of his and visitor to the Horn Dance day would spend the night in the graveyard because he had nowhere else to sleep. And people and locals did not mind – he was just the ‘guy who slept in the graveyard.’ Oh Boy! The characters you get at these events.

We walked up the street to the Bagot Arms, passing some of the places where Steve says the dancers stop for a pint, or food. In the Bagot Arms, Steve and I had another pint and we chatted about many other things – pagans in the UK and Australia, folk dancing, horse brasses, and many other things that crossed our minds. I kept seeing more and more people walking past the pub window, as I realised the tourists were arriving. It was probably about 3.00 - 3.30pm by now, and the dancers were due to arrive in the village. After a toilet run, I went outside to find Steve standing there, prompting me along. As I looked west down the road, I saw the dancers skipping along the road with their horns. I got really excited here – this was it! I was finally going to see this horn dance. It all dawned on me where I was when I saw them. I began to not believe that I was here!

Steve and Shamus

As they came along, they circled around each other, and I saw my Staffordshire friend Shamus, he acknowledged me and gave me a head bow. I began to take some short footage of the dance, and Angela, the leader of my border morris team back in Yorkshire, was in the background. She saw me and came around to give me a hug. After this dance the dancers went under an arch and out into the backyard of one of their friends who had put on a bit of food. Steve suggested we walk back into the village, and before we walked off, Ang invited us out the back with the dancers to hang out with Shamus. The four of us got some group photos together and then went further out the back to the lawn to watch some of the dancers dance with some locals. They are a more open folk dance than I thought. You think about Padstow and how only locals can go to the May Day Festival because the tourists ‘clogged the village.’ And the Morris Ring who have men-only sides who refuse to let women join, but here in Abbots Bromley, they let locals dance and WOMEN too! What a nice bunch of people! Not superstitious about a woman holding the horns let alone having a dance!



The Hobby Horse of Abbots Bromley

After that, we followed the dancers out to the street again and walked along as we watched them head to the Bagot Arms back towards the village. At this car park, Shamus dragged me over to where the horns were laid on the ground, and shoved a set of horns into my hands. I was holding the lighter horns that were damaged in the mid 70’s and the broken bit was dated to have been from around 1060s. I made sure veteran attendee Steve got to hold them as well.

 

 

We headed back towards the Buttercross, running into more pagan friends of Steve on the way and stopping for chats. At the Crown Pub, we went inside to see the new décor of the renovated pub – all modern and new, and saw the Horn Dance paintings done in the 1940s. Then we went round the back of the pub and visited the pagan camp site up the back – I saw Nick from the Black Pigs Border Morris and went to say hello to him by his hearse. Then we got a hotdog outside the front of the Crown and then stood with more of Steve’s friends, Cathy and Robin. It was now when the horn dancers had made their way down into the village and arrived outside the Goat’s Head and held up the traffic doing their road-hogging dance. Then they rested by the Goat’s Head and let friends dance with them.

I chatted to friends Ang, Fran, and Shamus, and Steve and his friends joined us. I visited the stalls again and bought some Horn Dancer pins. Then the dancers went out the back of the Goat’s Head and posed for photos. We stayed back there in the large beer garden until about 6pm, then headed back to the Crown. It was time for Steve and I to get back to the station, so we looked for our cab. I could not find Ang or Shamus at all, so never got to say goodbye. It was the last time I saw Shamus too. Our cab was waiting when it started to rain again. We got the train from Uttoxeter to Derby and on the Derby train, an announcement told us we were not stopping at Wakefield, so Steve had to get off at Sheffield. I went onto Leeds and eventually got home via Shipley, as trains were down that night.

Steve gets to hold the horns

The painting in the Crown Pub

 

I had an awesome and memorable day at Abbots Bromley and am very glad I got to go. It was magic! And brilliant to witness such an old dance and finally see how it was conducted, especially since I have been going to folk dances all year. Getting to know so many people apart from Steve in England has been wonderful, meeting Shamus in March and becoming friends with him, and then learning that he was the accordion player for the Horn Dancers absolutely blew my mind! What are the chances of such a meeting! I had such a wonderful day!