Red Stags were going to Scarborough with just four dancers, and it's a damn long procession on the Sunday morning. We already had some long staves and I concieved of the idea of making rag banners to hang on four of them, pastiches of the ones in the photograph. For the record, the banners are two and a half metres long, stitched from 300 rag panels each, using a technique derived from Seminole patchwork and Japanese kite manufacture. I'll be happy to supply details if anyone is stupid enough to want to copy them.

The idea behind having the long staves and banners is that four dancers can make enough of a show to keep the audience happy, without a great deal of effort. It's a good wheeze and works quite well. Although Shrawley is a a genuine stave dance, if banners aren't to your taste, you could use other props, such as garlands. As Roy Dommett once said of another dance, Shrawley is "described in the vaguest of terms, which is so useful". In fact, there are no details of the figures or stepping at all, but having been and walked the bounds at Shawley (which has a smashing pub who gave us a very friendly welcome), the only thought I had was that a good part of the route must have been single-file! What we came up with must be close to being the minimum possible thing which can legitimately be called a "dance".

Formation

Four dancers in a column, all facing in the direction of the procession.

Stepping

The stepping we used is what was demonstrated to Roy Dommett by a couple of men who had danced with a side in Shropshire. It's a step which was used in folk dances at the turn of the century - essentially a double-step withthe three "step"s close to the ground and the "hop" raising the free knee so that the thigh is horizontal. It's possible to consider this as a folksy version of the "double" described in the fourteenth century basse dance manuscript of Madame de Ravestein, which was translated into English by Copeland. Or, you can think of it as a lower-key version of the step which was demonstrated to Maud Karpeles by the Upton dancers. The step has a number of good points for this dance. It's different from the various versions of "standard" border stepping. It's not too strenuous, which anyone who's done Scarborough will recognise is a great advantage. And it can be used to cover a fair amount of distance, which is useful in any procession.

There's more about the styles of stepping which I use and teach, in the stepping section of the description of the Weobley Marsh Dances which form part of this set of choreographies.

Figures

If we're doing a procession, I feel that whenever there's an audience we should be dancing. At Scarborough (and at Sidmouth and at Wokingham) this means dancing the whole route. Hence the not-too-strenuous step, but this also means that three types of figure are required in order to avoid bunching up or getting left behind. You need one that uses a lot of ground, one that mves forward slowly, and one that is on the spot.

Moving Forward Fast

"Up Straight" or "Up Street". The set just processes forward in a single file, taking the speed from number one.

Moving Forward Slowly

"Hey". The set stands still, all except the back person, who turns slightly to the left and weaves up through the people in front until they reach the top of the set. At that point they stand still and the new back person mves slightly to the right and weaves to the top, and so on until number one is at the top again.

Dancing on the Spot, part 1

"Rounds" (or Stars, since with staves there isn't any difference). Number one peels off to the left and everyone follows, casting into rounds. If this looks like going on for a while (the police have stopped the procession to clear a suspect car, for example) number one can add variety be changing to right hand rounds after a few loops of left hand ones.

Dancing on the Spot, part 2

Arch Hey. This figure was shown to me as part of a swap-session at the Scarborough 'do' in 1997. It came from a North-West side whpo were temporarily embarrassed for numbers and were cribbing a couple of my on-the-spot square figures to flesh out their processional. I don't think I ever did know the name of the side: if it was you, please mail me and I'll credit you.

It's a hey consisting of what I call "arch-rounds" in the notes for my Stave Dance Workshop, but there are plenty of other names. Two dancers face each other and tilt the staves forward until the tips slightly overlap. I find it easiest to maintain contact by pressing the staves together in the direction you're going to move, right to left if you're going to move round clockwise, lef to right for anti-clockwise.

Number one turns round and makes an arch with number two, turning 180 degrees clockwise (equivalent to passing right shoulders. Then arches 180 degrees counter-clockwise with number three, clockwise with number four. Whilst one and four are turning, two and three do likewise, so the hey is a progressive start. Repeat to places and then move off...

And that's it. It's all you need and you can learn it in about ten minutes, which fits with the idea of a dance performed once a year by people who had better things to do than morris practice every week. A quote from one of the traditional dancers - "sometimes we'd get really organised and have two practices before the tour".

Calling

...is always a problem in processionals. Number one is facing forwards and the calls are drowned by the mobile disco on a float, or the Northwest Side's Silver Band. So, don't call. It's easy. Number one moves forward, it's "Up Straight" and the others follow at the pace set by number one. Number one stops but stays facing forward, it must be "Hey". Number one peels off right or left, it's "Rounds". Number one turns round, it's an arch hey. Now all you have to do is try to hear the music.

Yes, and the Name...?

The Iron Drayman. Shrawley's music was mouth-organ on at least one occasion, where the box player didn't have his box with him (I have some suspicion that it had been pawned, but we'll probably never know). I'm researching a player who probably played for a Somerset stave walk, who played both box and mouth-organ. His name was Charles Rawls, or possibly Rolls. And he was a drayman. Discussing him with a publican who may or may not have seen him play, he commented that this was "in the days when barrels were made of wood and draymen were made of iron." I already had the tune but no name, and it sort of stuck.