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"Here come the paper-boys" It doesn't matter whether the Landlord and locals at the Queen's Head have always called the mummers "paper-boys" or read the name in a folklore book. The simple fact that the approaching party were recognised and welcomed speaks volumes for how much Crookham Mummers are a part of the local community. They always perform on the December 26th and my regular performance with Jackstraws Morris is always on the bank holiday. 1999 was one of those where the bank holiday was the 27th, giving me a rare opportunity to see them. Large audiences stood in the cold wind and increasing drizzle at each of the four traditional stops before the mummers had even arrived, let alone started. They were rewarded with fine performances from mummers young and old. The first spot, formerly the Chequers, is now a bar-restaurant called the George and Lobster. "It would be better" commented one of the locals "if it were the George and Dab, or at least something you can catch in the canal". I think the new owners were somewhat surprised at the turnout. Roy Dommett, the father or grandfather of most of the cast, was in evidence in his normal pose, attempting to photograph the proceedings over the heads of the large crowd. At the remaining spots, jokes about Lobsters were as prominent as the drinks. In this case, at the Black Horse, they come from a ceremonial tray of matched tankards, to which each performer contributes. It's traditional for one of the mummers to attempt to acquire a free round of drinks. By this stage Christmas was fond of "Good Roast British Beef (on the bone)" and "Mince Pies (on the bone)" whilst his son, returned from the French wars, was advising us to boycott both French Golden Delicious apples and French Letters. The script also includes a coda about pigs. Roy tells me that it's based on fact, although it never makes any sense to me until the last spot. In general, mummers' plays don't make sense until you've had a bit to drink anyway. The cure, however, is completely traditional. The two losing protagonists lie dead upon the ground. Aided in this case by young Charlotte and a squeezy bottle of detergent, the doctor extracts a number of unlikely items from the patients, until eventually they are revived. At the last spot, once the rain really started, the "bodies" found themselves dragged into a convenient puddle. The longest and wettest cure of the day also involved a large quantity of red colouring, which defied the entire contents of Charlotte's and stuck to every inch of exposed skin. They still got served in the pub afterwards, although out of politeness they avoided the carpeted areas. [home] [about] [morris] [places] [tour] |