Bath City memories from Fiona Frank

Bath City gave me friends for the next 20 years - and I've even been responsible for a marriage because of it! I went on to dance North West with Bollin in Manchester (where Gill Smith and Mic Huntley were running the show already) and then down to Oxford where I was a co-founder of a great women's border morris team, Rogue Morris (Jaddy Merlo was a good friend of the team and Penny Dando joined some years later with Jeff as musician sometimes). When living in Oxford I lived with Keith Chandler for 8 years - he's a World Morris History Expert. Despite his influence, I never got that interested in morris history, though I met some really nice people who WERE interested! After I moved North ten years later, I joined Lancashire Rose but the discipline of North West was too much after dancing border. With Simon Booth and Martin Hazell from Ran Tan Band, I set up a new mixed border team (sounds like a garden, doesn't it) called Ribble Rabble, in Preston. Louise, a local physiotherapist joined the team.... and then she met and married Notso when they met on a minibus tour of St Chartiers Folk Festival which I'd organised! (It was Tina who suggested that I invite Notso, so actually it's Tina's fault. They're now very happy with 2 kids.....and Tina and Carl are very happy with 3 kids!)
Adrian's reunions have been great, I so enjoyed going there the year I was pregnant, and then taking Anna (who's now aged 10) to meet Rachelle Ayley who is her 'twin', born on 21.9.91. I'm so sorry I missed the 30 year reunion due to ill health. I stopped dancing when I was 40 due to bad wrists but still play melodeon at sessions and haven't ever missed a Bampton yet.
I have bumped into various people along the years including Sally Wearing, Barbara Butler/Bruce, and have met Tubby and Betty a few times at French and English folk festivals - and I was recently thinking, isn't it time we did Tubby and Betty some kind of wonderful party? (is he coming up to 80?) They gave me my whole social life, I'd love to give them something back.
Fiona, November 2001

Bath City memories from Keith Hallam

At some point during 1985-1986, we formed a scratch band that, in addition to having to play 1 or 2 Bath ceilidhs (for some reason), though I had never played them before, I ended up on drums (one cymbal, one base drum with pedal spring that broke during one dance, repaired by someone with some elastic bands) and one smaller drum (to hit with sticks). We also did 2 outside gigs that I recall, one at that church hall-type building the other side of the road from the bus station, near the police station, and one in the hospital, I believe near the maternity wing (because the ladies toilets had spaces to place bottles to collect samples....). We also did some rapper during that year, practising on Sundays in the skittles alley of a pub near to Laura place, in preparation for an event to do with Tubby and/or Betty (birthday, wedding anniversary or the like).
Please add me to the list - I graduated in 1986, but only joined the side at the beginning of my final year. While on placement, I met lots of past, present and future members of Manchester University FDC. "Since you go to the ceilidhs" they said "why don't you join the Bath Uni FDC?" "They only do morris" I replied, and then joined when I got back! I am now in Rag Morris in Bristol.
Keith Hallam, Dec 2001

Bath City memories from Dave Wintle

I was at the University of Bath very briefly from 1974-75, until they found me out. I never joined the morris side there, but I was a regular attender at the ceilidhs, and I used to come back to the "Albert's out of town" do's for several years afterwards.
However, I do have a clear and striking memory of the men dancing at a fresher's fair event in '74, which might also strike a chord or two with some others. We were in the Small Hall, and had seen plump girls in leotards dancing to "Tubular Bells", heard a clarinet duet played as a solo when one of the clarinettists failed to turn up, witnessed some (surprisingly donnish for Bath) catch and glee singing, etc. - all very serious and self-conscious. Every group had made a pitch to us in the audience to join it. I was going to say "had appealed", but no-one had appealed at all. The last item was the morris, billed I think as "Folk Group" - which I believe was the name used for them in all the weekly programmes.
This was a breath of fresh air. Everyone had clearly been to the pub, and they exploded on stage in a shouting and giggling mess - tankards everywhere. Jim Reynolds stepped forward - wearing his woolly hat - and announced "The Nutting Girl". He took a long, reflective pull on his beer, set the tankard down in front of him in the approved manner, and began to sing. As he sang, two men at the back began to unfurl a toilet roll, with a message written on it to the lighting engineer, to the effect that the item was going to overrun, and please not to cut them off. The lighting man reacted as you might expect, and off went the lights. Jim of course kept singing. At the end, the accordion player started to play the tune, but because he couldn't see, the first few bars were pretty awful. Jim started dancing, occasionally shouting "Can you see anything" to which we all replied "Yes" - we could just make out some hankies going up and down. On the stage, people were lighting matches and holding up lighters. Finally, the curtains started to close, and everyone on stage rushed to hold them back. My recollection is that Jim finished the jig, the curtains fell, and a hand came out from between them to grab the tankard.
Several weeks later, a friend of mine - John Ralph - who was thinking at the time of joining the Forest of Dean Morris Men, took me on a "Tour of the Amazing Cotswolds" with FoDMM and Old Spot. The tour was rained off, and we spent the evening getting pissed in a pub in Cheltenham. It was (I think) a combination of the freshers' event at Bath and seeing Old Spot in a pub back room in Cheltenham that convinced me thet morris was not only a worthwhile activity in its own right, but also you could have a bloody good time, and I joined FoDMM shortly thereafter. Of course, alcohol and the fact that I was already playing pipe and tabor at mediaeval feasts probably helped with the decision.
So thanks to all of you for my damaged cartilages and tendonitis.
Dave Wintle

Bath City Memories, from Steve Bazire

What (vaguely) I remember, possibly partly accurately, by Steve Bazire:

• Sunday lunchtime practices at the Gaye Lorde in Limpley Stoke in winter term 1973. It involved going over to Norwood House at 10am to wake Andy Allen (pest), ignoring the grumpiness, then driving around for hours collecting people, eventually arriving (late) at the pub. For years I though Limpley Stoke was about 15 miles from the University, instead of 4 miles over the hill. I'd have walked if I'd known. Pest's Gypsy was eventually converted to gas, which was OK until it got so cold the gas froze and we had to heat the gas tank up with our hands one night after a booked gig on a Sunday night at Newton St Loe. And if it rained, someone had to hand-operate the single windscreen washer
• The pranks and silly dances. The Cardiff family weekend with the "Trousers Down Morris" (Instant's idea, involving doing an Eynsham dance with undone trousers so they gradually fell down), "Double-decker Morris" (Bluebell's of Scotland, done piggy-back, with generally the men underneath, girls on top, but all twelve doing the sticking), Coronation (including the time someone smuggled a pint of Guinness into my tankard, which proved impossible to drink and the time in Cardiff when Hammersmith did Coronation, and while they did the foot down, we nicked their beer), and of course the infamous "Pram Pushing" with supermarket trolleys
• South of France folk-camp trip in summer 1976. There was the night we danced with the stilt dancers. The EFDSS folkies tut-tutted when we broke a stick in our spot - OK, so the end flew off and hit one of them, but you expect that sort of thing don't you? Especially with a side with a good aim. Then the French asked some of us to have a go on their stilts. Tom was strapped in, but removing his shoes revealed a pair of somewhat aromatic socks that rather took the French aback. Completely plastered, Tom pointed at his feet and, in a comic French accent, said "Ah, ha, du fromage!". The French dancers fell about laughing so much they accidentally let him go, and he fell over backwards onto a grass bank. Being plastered, he was, of course, unharmed. Next evening we gate-crashed an accordion concert, did a few dances on invitation and then got involved in silly drinking contests with the locals. Once we'd spent an hour getting the key into the car lock, Colette kept Adrian upright to drive home, although how long he was awake for was debatable. The next day, having a siesta, Jim Mitchell went to sleep with his eyes open, despite Adrian's trombone being blown in his ears. Feeling dreadful, we went to Bairritz but it rained, so we gave up and went to a local village. Walking down the street we were mistaken for Basque dancers, but then stumbled upon a local event. The idea was that two opposing village teams played games against each other in a high-walled arena, which was oblong and about two-thirds the size of a hockey pitch, and with walls about 5ft high. The games included e.g. football and a game involving ten tin cans, a hoop and an oil drum with a hole in the top. The idea was that the teams had to bash the cans down, leap through the hoop and pop them through oil-drum hole. No problem, except there was a bull in the ring. It was like obstacle-games. In the arena there were a series of wooden walls round the edge, behind which you could hide from the bull, and if anyone fell over, the others would rush out and distract the bull until he/she could recover. At first we thought this was cruel, but decided eventually the bull, who remained completely unharmed throughout, was actually quite enjoying the challenge. At half-time, some of the children and younger members of the audience climbed into the area and a little white bull (it's body was only about 2ft high) was let out. Great fun and games followed. After a while that one was removed, and a larger one put in. Someone said "well, what size are you going in at?" and I said, "Well, I will if you will" and so several of us got in, much to the delight of the French, who decided we were a game bunch. The second bull was removed and a third larger one let out. Children were running everywhere and Notso and I were talking close to one of the hiding places when, and I swear this was true, Notso disappeared. One second I was talking to him, the next he was gone. I looked round, only to discover the locals had let the little white bull out again who, in his enthusiasm to rejoin the fray, had belted along and taken Notso's legs from behind him! Notso was unharmed, which was just as well because they asked us to dance. We did this, although the acoustics were so good that I can still hear the one and only bum note I played, because it's probably still echoing round the arena. As advised by Fiona, we then lined up and bowed to the mayor, and started to make our way out, only to discover that there was no exit. You can guess what happened next - they let the little white bull in again! After watching us run about a bit they took the bull out and thanked us for dancing.
• Going back to Tubby's after ceilidh's to Apley House, Timsbury, including the time Tubby said that he'd never had a side dancing on his dining room table, which was quickly correctly with the aid of a few chairs. Then after Albert's once, dancing to Martin Carthy's guitar. He played the Forrester, we danced sidestep Bampton sans bells and shoes, and someone outside came in because they thought they could hear a drum being hit…
• The Cardiff family weekend when we erected a frame tent over someone's car so they couldn't find it. On the Saturday night, Tubby had a ceilidh north of Bristol and an early Pill Pushers band played, featuring Paul Woods and myself (melodeons), Dave Brown (guitar), Ian Bag (drums). In order to get back to Cardiff, Gill Smith came over from Cardiff to pick us up, about which she was (understandably) annoyed and said if anyone farted on the way back, she'd turf us and we'd have to walk back. Since we knew that she meant it, we didn't, but once back at the campsite in Cardiff I recall standing some distance away and farting continuously for over ten minutes.
• On the Jersey tour, when a Rugby club arrived off the ferry in the early hours one morning and made huge amounts of noise putting tents up at 5am. So, while they were away the next day and rather bleary-eyed through lack of sleep, we super-glued their tent poles together. Serves them right.
• South Coast tour in 1975. The men did Coronation endlessly and the women decided to do it too on the Tuesday night (with Knots of May and Chanctonbury Ring, 5.8.75), They did it with halves, but twice through (thus making a pint). I recall only one woman managed both halves faultlessly (quick, clean, none spilt). I'm now been married to her for 22 years. For some unknown reason, I can vividly remember "Not in Love" by 10cc on the juke-box in the pub after we'd danced in the heat in Brighton (John Starling has loads of photos - where are you John?), with a pub a heaving mass of sweaty, exhausted but happy dancers. Later, John Starling getting the nickname "Seagull" after accidentally hitting a seagull with a stone, shortly after John Instant had been thrown in the sea, a bad move because salt-water makes him sick. Notso so tired he was ill. Sharing a tent with Fiona, Tina and seagull was never the same again..
• Rapper practices, when as sole musician but running the classical programme on University Radio Bath required exact timing of dances and record changes. One of the early rapper tour's started (as usual) at the Crystal Palace. One of the rapper swords had broken the previous week so Ian Colne had decided to weld it, and just for safety's sake, spot welded the rest. During the first dance, that sword broke again, so one of the spare swords was substituted. Then another broke, then another and by bar 62, the tour was over. Hints and tips number 27b - spot welding weakens rapper swords
• We were asked to dance at a mid-week street fair in Corsham (on 26.2.76). Enough of us sloped off lectures to make it viable, so we danced. No problem there then, except that it appeared on the local TV news that evening...
• The first (1976) Lille trip (Dr Bowser's and BCM, organised by Fiona, who was on placement there). We were due to meet the mayor at the Town Hall, but he forgot and so, to make up for this, sent his deputy to apologise and take us out for a meal (and was alleged to comment that the Brits can't hold their drink). Our table consisted of DC, Dave Brown (guitar for Dr Bowsers), Jill (Robins) and myself. Knowing nothing about wine, we chose a cheap one, which turned out to be a 2L bottle - ironic since the table next to us selected very carefully an expensive bottle, and got 0.75L between eight of them. After a while, a guitarist came in and started serenading us, and when he discovered we were English played and sang "when the Saints go marching in". Someone (possibly me) joined in on melodeon and the poor man encouraged others to join in. He was somewhat upstaged when all 20 of us trooped into the minibus and returned with an instrunment each. We then played, danced country dances and sang in the restaurant until we got thrown out (and with the mayor picking-up a hefty drinks bill). Adrian managed to drive back to the MMJC hall, but decided only to go over red lights and wait at the green ones. Ironically, the mayor's deputy was last seen being roaringly ill in the hall somewhere. Whilst later waiting to wash before retiring, Tubby got tired waiting for the washroom to become vacant and pushed open loo door, only to find Paul Woods with his foot down the loo, flushing it. Paul rather incoherently stated that he'd got bored waiting, so decided to wash his feet in the loo. Tubby was laughing so much he fell over backwards and broke a line of sinks behind, causing a serious amount of damage to the venue. The next night our gig started at 7.30 and finished at 2.30am. We'd asked Tubby to play pipe and tabor for percussion (and of course upstaged the lot of us). I recall little of the gig except Adrians calling in Fronglaise, with such classics as "Le premier homme and the deuxieme femme … hopstep around" and thinking the sound was slightly odd later on, to make out that Dave Brown had been so inebriated that he'd fallen off stage but was still playing, lying on his back on the dance floor! It wasn't until the rebooking the next year we realised that the main attraction had been Tubby playing pipe and tabor.
• The Ducklington instructional at Cecil Sharp House in 1976. Roy Dommett as a regular visitor to Bath and I always found him awe-inspiring. The night before when Roy came to Bath to put the finishing touches on the dances he was not awe-inspired by us. We were dreadful. The dances were all over the place and he must have had grave reservations about the next day. We certainly did, but it was too late to much about it. Next day, we made it there and danced like we'd been doing it for years, or even better than that. I played, having only been playing the melodeon for just over a year - a tough assignment with Roy as the instructor. After the relief of this, poor David Welti's next session was a bit of an anticlimax, and his famously repeated "do as I say, not as I do" when not following his own instructions, was rather embarrassing for him
• 10th November 1975 - the Rag week "drink the pub dry" evening at the Pulteney Arms, when after we'd stopped dancing I got asked to play "London's Burning" on the pub piano. As I played, the Landlord and friends gradually took the wooden frame apart and started stuffing newspaper inside. The Landlord then proceeded to set light to the newspaper, just as the police arrived. I made a hasty exit, but apparently it the Landlord was ex-services and it was a services tradition for the pianist to keep playing until the piano was gone. Bizarre! Mind you, during the Rag Procession on that Saturday (15.11.75) it rained so heavily that my melodeon bellows disintegrated, producing a big hole so that every time I squeezed the bellows hard, my rather sodden hair flicked up, and next to no sound came out of the bellows.
• Miscellaneous memories:
  Adrian discovering that if you went over speed bumps/sleeping policeman at high speed, the front of a minibus doesn't bounce much. It took some time to convince him that the back does bounce and that the dents on the roof at the back were from people's heads and the speed bumps in the minibus
  Dancing Playford at the back of the Crystal Palace, and meeting there first before starting tours
  Bath Ceilidhs, singing "Whose pigs are these?" with The Songwainers, and "I can't do my Bally bottom button up" with Cosmatheka; the Camberley and District Silver Band and dancing Nottingham Swing 25 times through with my Mum
  The "Adrian Ayley flick" - one-eyed Adrian (the other eye covered by a flop of hair) breifly becoming two-eyed Adrian with a deft flick of the head
  Oxfam lunches in 5W on Thursday lunchtime
  The baby-faced bomber - during the night of the 1974 BCM Christmas party at the Viaduct (where Tom Orchard presented us each with a fab individuallised Christmas card), an IRA bomb went off in the Royal Arcade in Bath. A "Baby-faced bomber" was identified, who wore a bomber jacket. Steve Palmer I, who wore a bomber jacket, was immediately interviewed and most of us were interviewed to vouch for the facts that (a) he wasn't baby-faced and (b) he was at the Viaduct. Poor Steve was alittle put out at the baby-faced bit!
  "The Compleat Bath City Morris Person" - 50 tunes and cover, that somehow became a standard text and served as a starting point for many a budding musician (at least, those that could read it)
  The very cold Cardiff Instructional when Tubby ate a daffodil, someone (Zot?) went for a wee outside and broke an arm falling over on the ice (which turned out to be frozen urine) and Adrian and Ant from Bristol having a fight in the dormitories, when Ant went for a wee and, stumbling around in the dark not entirely sober, accidentally got into the wrong bed, which happened to be Adrian's and who happened to object to someone getting into his sleeping bag when he was already in it. At least we found Cardiff's secret supply of Ale in a barrel in the ladies. I think that was the year Roy expressed his complete displeasure at our appauling rendition of one of the North-West dances, to my equally approximate attempt at "Blaze Away"
  The first New Year's party in Ipswich, when Gill Smith's box case got left behind and was cordoned off as a possible bomb threat
  Notso and Mic regularly singing the label from a Guinness bottle to the tune of Beethoven's Ninth
  Dancing and playing "Electric Morris" in Abbey Churchyard, when Pest learnt to play a clarinet in 2 days, then started improvising on it
  The Cardiff instructionals, with Roy Dommett talking for hours on a Sunday afternoon about the history of Morris, the Cotswolds, social history etc with no notes, but fluently, coherently, logically and with complete authority and our 100% concentration and enthralment (if that's a word)
  The Cardiff Instructional where Notso tried to do Cardinal Puff. He was conned into doing it and by trial and error eventually managed the whole ritual perfectly, until Dave Parsons (then Squire of Cardiff), and I can still remember the difficulty he had keeping a straight face, said those memorable words "Dave - you've still got your hat on". (if you don't know Cardinal Puff, it's drinking ritual game, where any mistake is punished by starting again)
  Adrian and Tom (and myself) guesting on an East Suffolk rapper tour one Easter. At the evening show in Aldeburgh, Adrian danced the rapper in borrowed britches, which didn't stay up very well. In fact, decency dictated that the dance had to be halted while his britches were hitched up, as visible pubic hair in public Aldeburgh wasn't allowed, nor pleasant for that matter
  The Summer season for the Beaufort Hotel in 1974, except that, due to a change in exchange rates, the hoards of visiting Americans failed to materialise and we danced to some bemused locals twice a week for months
  The long-running tease of Instant and his alleged melodeon lessons for Fiona through the daily University newsletter in 1975, culminating in a message reading early in the summer term that the lessons were "still available, but may be terminated by June"
  Gate crashing the 1974 Winchester Ring Meeting - I had no idea at the time how outrageous this was. Arriving on the Saturday morning and pretenting no one had said we weren't coming, and watching Winchester struggle to find a tour to put us on
  The surreal view of Roy Dommett dancing around as Andy Pandy in Rag Week procession
  Betty saying "More tea, Vicar?" every time anyone swore or loudly passed wind

BCM memories from Paul Truswell

I joined the University in 1975, but steered well clear of the morris as far as I could. Chief exceptions were Sunday lunchtimes, when I seem to recall the bar being invaded by various bell-ringing people practising, and of course the Ceilidhs, which were an opportunity for a shy young man like me to get talking to equally shy young girls.
Then, in my final year, I managed to get around to chatting up Kris Lawrence, who was between Steve Palmers at the time. “Join the morris”, said she. “OK”, said I (I never was very assertive). So, for two terms (Oct 1978 – Easter 1979) I practised my one-two-three-hops, while Steve Palmer 2 moved in on Kris.
All kinds of memories tumble around – involving 6X, pub sessions all over Bath and beyond, Tubby & Betty’s hospitality, etc. Sunday evenings playing shove ha’penny in the Packhorse at South Stoke. There was a trip to Letterkenny somewhere in the middle of it all, probably the summer of 1979. And a weekend away at Dick & Jaddy’s in Weymouth, which could have been the later in the same year. And a trip to a weekend in Plymouth with Cliff and Marilyn Skey, did I go there on the train?
A couple of Sidmouth weekends – performances on the prom. Being left in my sleeping bag as the tent around me blew away in the gale.
I graduated (with a 2ii – I was on for a 2i before I took up morris, but no regrets) in 1979, and then started coming back to Bath at weekends from my new-found employment in London. October 1979 for Fresher’s week led to many other weekends spent driving down the M4 on Friday evenings and Monday mornings. I remember I came back for the Playford Ball, dancing out in Laycock the following lunchtime, but the other weekends are all a blur. Was there an Albert’s out of Town there somewhere?
Work took me to Switzerland at the beginning of 1980, but I was still able to pop back for weekends of dancing whenever I could. And there was a camping trip to Brittany, it must have been 1980 as well, not really a BCM do though. Joy, Leo, Helen and I travelled over in my Alfasud (complete with camping gear) and met up with Tubby & Betty and two of their friends. There was a memorable session in a pub (so memorable I’ve got no idea where it was now) in the environs of Carnac, where we played tunes and danced dances for the locals, who replied in kind by teaching us Breton tunes and dances. Followed by a trip back to the campsite on the left hand side of the road!
At one stage I proposed to Betty. She accepted. And the girls (Claire and ? – oh, my memory) called me ‘Daddy’ from then on…! After that, I kind of lost touch with everyone. I had a brief flirtation with Downs Morris (based in Penge), and have stayed in touch with Kris Lawrence as she took up residence in Australia before returning to Farnham, and I had periods of living in the USA, Germany, Belgium before returning to the UK in 1995.
I enjoyed the 30th anniversary weekend, bringing my wife Tatjana with me. Since then daughter Sophie (born 1998) and son Robin have arrived (born 2001). We’re living in Woking, in Surrey. I’m still into motor-racing – people who remember me will remember that was always my other hobby; I go to the British Grand Prix, Le Mans 24 hour race, and sundry other events every year.
The legacy has been a love of folk music – Scottish, English, Irish, etc. From the traditional roots of June Tabor, Ali Bain and the Boys of the Lough, etc through the wilder elements of the Tannahill Weavers and the Waterboys to the edge of the world of folk music as portrayed by Shane MacGowan and The Pogues. And last but not least, to my mind the best music ever produced by a band ever anywhere – Oysterband (formerly Oyster Ceilidh Band) who I still clearly recall doing Ceilidhs at Bath in the 70’s.
January 2002

Bath City Morris-Memories of Tub and Betty from June and John Rowlands

The nostalgia juices came to life when our daughter Heather aged 18 started at Bath University to study Chemistry and we took her there to settle her in on that first weekend of Fresher's week. John made a bee line for the main hall where all the "Albert's Out of Town Ceilidhs" took place, the bar where the workshops and late night drinking and music sessions were always in force and the students union which had moved since thirty years ago and was up one floor. Halls of residence have improved somewhat with modern blocks, rooms with ensuite toilet pods and more accommodation places on campus than ever before.
Whilst reminiscing all this with Paul Woods, on a recent visit to Macclesfield, it lead on to discussions of the "on-on" parties out at Timsbury, hosted by Tub and Betty, the Sunday morning practices and how the women (girlfriends) had patiently watched and chatted until Betty decided to rally their dance skills and started the Ladies Team.
The over-riding feelings were that Tub and Betty, whilst busy working full time and raising a family in a ramshackle house, had provided a "home and family" for many students. Those that are mostly remembered by the Reynolds "kids" are the Morris folk who spent time with them as we invaded the house and ate, drank and danced on the dining table. There were some, of course, who passed through the hospitality of the household and took much for granted but the in the main, most remember Tubby and Betty as Big Kids themselves at times and loving the interaction with the next batch of students entering the university.
Whilst tolerating huge amounts of nonsense and larking around in the team, Tub and Bet were sticklers for dancing the Morris in the spirit of the dance and worked hard with the teams to keep some sort of standard of dancing for performances, most of the time. Many musicians would never have dusted up their piano grade 5 or rusty violin skills to create the new music needed for the Morris if Tubby had not inspired them with his fiddle playing....
So, matches were made, marriages blessed, and children born all through the efforts of Tubby and Betty and as a new generation settles into the university life I do feel sad that one of the best and brilliant clubs and societies is missing, as it all folded in 1997.
Morris On!
June and John Rowlands, 2002

BCM memories from Megan and Neile

Bath City Legacies -1
Megan and Neile (Martyn and Angharad) - as a point of fact we didn't meet through BCM but at a BCM ceilidh and I then spent 4 months persuading Neile to try morris dancing. He eventually came along bringing Steve West for moral support and when they discovered it was fun Steve then brought along his girlfriend (later wife) Pat.
Bath City Memories from Megan Taylor
I joined BCM as soon as I started at Bath - along with all those other societies and clubs that looked interesting, but none of them came up to the standard of BCM and quickly got dropped. I remember wonderful practice evenings with 5 or 6 sets up (difficult to believe these days when we struggle to get commitment for 1 set) and the chaos of dancing round the columns in the lobby. Then the highlight of the evening when we all got together for some social dancing. I've danced with linked sides and joint sides since but nothing was like the camaraderie then. We've tried suggesting that Oyster Morris men and women practice on the same night and then get together afterwards but people are too set in their ways to change now.
The ceilidhs were great and the dancing was fun. I thoroughly enjoyed being "just one of the dancers" and the bug bit deep so that now I can look back on 28 years of dancing with only 3-4 years off to have the kids.
One ceilidh night I was sitting quietly on the sidelines with Caroline (Peters) watching the dancing and having a breather when two louts came up behind us, announced "You're dancing!" and dragged us onto the floor. That was my introduction to my husband to be - Neile Taylor. It then took me months to persuade him to come along and try morris dancing - I got all the usual excuses, "It's sissy", "I can't dance", "Who wants to dance with hankies", "But you have to dress up in silly clothes" etc. He eventually had to bring along a friend for moral support and then discovered he was a natural dancer who picked new dances up immediately. He's now been dancing for 25 years, writes ceilidh dances (the complicated sort that really make you think - last winner of the Wiggin Ceilidh Dance Writers Trophy in 1997) calls at ceilidhs, writes morris dances and has run a few instructionals.
We have vivid memories of the IVFDF in Southampton in 1978 (the only one we went to unfortunately), the men dancing on a bus shelter roof and Fiona Franks' driving on the way down to Southampton - 90 mph down the A36 in the minibus and 3 times round a roundabout almost on 2 wheels while she decided which way we were going!
Then there was Dick doing Kung Fu Morris with a kipper in Chipping Norton - I wish I could forget that one! There was the New Year's Eve party at Adrian's parents house when Neil and I got to sleep under the piano (an upright one!) There was the Cotswold tour in 1978 dancing the traditions in their villages (mostly in the rain). And last but not least the 30th reunion when we discovered how unchanged most of the morris were (in fact Adrian looked younger than he did at Uni!) so morris obvious keeps us all young!
Megan Taylor, 2002

BCM memories from Jeff Weed

The site brought back many memories of grand times at Bath and related events. I am still doing the Morris and can thank Bath City and Tubby for giving me the bug all those year's ago. I am just finishing off my third year as Squire of the Toronto Morris Men (TFMM, the f is silent) in, of all places, Toronto! We have been together since 1986, although I connected with my first local team here in 1977, right after leaving Bath. We ocassionally get passing Morris types her from the old Country, and of course keep crossing paths at Ale's all over the place, the Morris World being what it is. One of my best memories of this was attending my first Ale in Marlborough Vermont. and standing bleary eyed on an early Saturday morning after 10 hour drive to hear someone calling (screaming?) my name and running full speed at me! It was June Rowlands, she and John (Instant) living at New York at the time. It was then I realized what a legacy Morris and Bath had given me.
Joan and I keep in touch with some folks from the old days, Barbara and Phil Butler have made the trek here, as have Duncan and Maria Drummond. Joan continued to dance here for a number of years, first Cotswold, then North West, then English Step Clog. She now busies herself playing Fiddle (Irish and Old Time Canadian). The fresh air of the Great White North produced 3 off spring Matthew (22), Rhys (19) and Kezia (14). I am glad to say all are dancers, Matt and Rhys with the TFMM and Kezia with the local young 'uns seasonal sword team, plus Irish step dance. She is also a fiddle/piano/guitar player. So we keep things alive here. Singing is a big part of our team and we have a spin off shanty group (The Bilge Rats) and an occassional middle age crisis 50's rock and roll band! All this from turning up at a practice 'cause I moved into Norwood house kitchen of 12 people with 3 Morris dancers! (What are the odd of that happening again?)
Grand memories of travelling the countryside in Andy Allan's Austin Gypsy. I remember the Electric Morris in the Abbey Church yard - I was the electric half on Bass guitar! I remember it cost Andy 20 pounds for a parking ticket, 'cause we had the gypsy parked on a double yellow line with all the batteries for the amplifiers in it! (I think the bag payed it).
I ran into June Tabor at a folk festival here in the eighties and she toldme with great delight the tale of how she came to learn "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda". Charlie and Liz Bateman, regulars at Bath Ceilidh's and Pottern dances (where they lived in the old working men's club) had a friend visiting them from Australia who was also a friend of Eric Bogles. She sang the song at the "Packhorse" during a lunch session at the "Albert's out of Town", in 1971 I think. June heard it, loved it, recorded it and the rest, as they say, is history!
Toronto is quite a spot for folk music and dance, both home grown and travelling from UK and all. This upcoming weekend is the Toronto Morris Ale (Last W/E in August each year) where we have 8 Ontario Sides, plus sides from California, New York, Washington and points elswhere. A grand time, and if any ex Bath City types are ever in the neighbourhood, we would love to see them.
Keep up the good work, I write some more another day.
Jeff and Joan Weed (2002)

Bath City Morris-Memories of Barbara Sinclair

I 'joined' the Bath City Morris team in 1970 as a fresher at Bath Uni. Having been a fan of folk music and dancing and Morris while at my secondary school, I was thrilled to meet up with Tubby and find there was a team being formed. I used to go along to the practices, where we also did country dancing. My dancing partner was Martin (a local farmer whose family name I do not remember). He was just wonderful. In 1971, I went out with Andy Allen (Pest) for a while, but I remember he wouldn't let me dance with anyone if he was playing his fiddle! Later, in 1971, I introduced my boyfriend at the time John Rowlands to Morris dancing. He picked it up so quickly, he was named 'John the Instant'. I was named, somewhat tongue in cheek (I hasten to add), Barb the Beautiful, at the time. I had very long hair and used to wear long skirts and a long, silky dressing gown thing as a coat!
I remember fondly the nights we had at Tubby's and Betty's, when the Songwainers were in town, especially. I loved the ceilidhs, and the weekend dance tours around the pubs of the region. I also remember how the lads got quite annoyed when we started the Ladies' Morris Team! I was involved at the start, but preferred the country dancing. Our country dancing and Morris teams performed on stage at the Colston Hall in Bristol in 19721/2. Sadly, my degree in European Studies meant that I had to spend a year overseas in 1972/3 in Germany.
I remember, on my return from Germany, being eager to introduce my German boyfriend to the ceilidh culture and Morris Dancing. Alas, it did not go well. He couldn't get the hang of it and my legs (after a year's abstinence) felt like lead. It was a shock - I had been able to dance all night when I was in training! After that, it was all revision for finals & hard work, with only minimal time for ceilidhs.
BCM saved me when I was at a low ebb in 1970 as a fresher. I made some super friends and I'll never forget the camaraderie and fun we had. I remember Dave the Box, Dave the Fool, Peter Foot (who married my friend Ann) and his brother, Dave (I think, or was it the other way round?), John Stainless, Val Parker and others. My friend, Linda Poole, was also an avid fan of BCM.
I remember dancing in Abbey Square under Albert (as we had named the huge tree), various folk festivals where we shared a freezing tent with Tubby and Betty (thanks!), dancing on the table at Timsbury, and one memorable evening when, after dancing round the local pubs, I invited the whole Morris team back to my bedsit for a coffee.....I told them to be on their best behaviour and as quiet as possible. I lived on the 4th floor of a Georgian building in Catherine Square. Everything went well, and people were quiet and suitably well-behaved. The next morning, though, my flatmates were furious! 'What the hell was all that noise last night? Bells jingling up and down the stairs and all round your room for hours on end!'. Of course, we had completely forgotten the bells!
I also remember, staggering out of a pub in Bath one night with a female friend and finding a rival (male) Morris team dancing outside. We challeneged them to a Lads o' Bunchem and they thought it would be hilarious to let us join in. They were gobsmacked when they saw we could do it perfectly!! Oh, that was a good moment! Tubby had taught us well!

Dr. Barbara Sinclair (now a senior lecturer at University of Nottingham, School of Education).
website: http://www.nottingham.ac.uk/education

From the Guardian Book reviws in October 2003, something along the lines of:

"Spufford writes as an unashamed enthusiast for the awkward charms of Englishness. Roy Dommett, for example, was the man responsible for updating the Polaris missile in the 1970s. A colleague recalled how he had bumped into him once in Bristol: 'These Morris men came dancing up the street, led by this big fat bloke in a kind of Andy Pandy outfit who was bopping people on the head with a pig's bladder - and I said to my wife, "Sweetheart, you won't believe me, but that man is the brains behind Britain's nuclear deterrent."' Dommett's spirit is one Spufford finds in other, unexpected places, but this is not simply a homage to eccentricity; rather, it is an attempt to isolate a certain kind of national character, one which prides itself on innovation and modesty. "

Val Parker

Val's history of the start of the women's morris revival (1971-75 at the moment), with lots of Bath City mentions

Memories of Andy Allen, Colin Mallett and the beginning days of BCM from the legendary Olaf Kolassa

In your recollections, you mentioned Andy Allen, a good but sometimes wayward fiddle player. (One of his 'party piece's was to try to outspeed his companion fiddleplayer. Tubby being one who had the experience of it, and may be one of the reasons he was called 'the Pest'). He came in on the same year as me. He was reading for the same degree i.e. BSc. Electrical, Electronic Engineering and was sponsored by the same organisation as myself, the Central Electricity Generating Board (R.I.P!). He had been sent to Bath by the South Western Region, and attached to Portishead Power Station. (It seem the policy with them that all their engineering undergraduate apprentices were to be sent to Bath as a block). However, I came from the North Eastern Region as a free agent.
As an aside, which may have some bearing on some of the events, is the curious background to my year's entry. The Mechanical and Electrical Schools of the University had for industrial students, an arrangement, that a period of three months should spend it with their respective sponsors before embarking on academic studies. This meant that though officially joining the University on October 1970, the year actually arrived on the campus at the beginning of January 1971. Hence at our arrival, the first student residence built on campus, Norwood House, had just opened, and we being the new arrivals, were then distributed throughout the building. Being very original, they went alphabetical, allocating a set in sequence to each kitchen group. This resulted in some curious and lasting friendships. As you may gather not far away from me would have been Colin Mallett and Stainless. Andy Allen I do not know where in the building he began or if he did a swap.
During that first year, I had little direct involvement with the 'folk' group, though, through lecture and coursework involvement, I met some of the members. You can't miss them if you happened to live in the same building! Meanwhile I attempted 'ballroom dancing', with no great success! I attended many of the student gigs, even a nightclub at Bathampton, from where the memory every time I hear the sound of 'Rod Stewart's' "Maggie May" continues to haunt me! However, my enjoyment of that year's 'Albert's out of town', made me decide that on the following October I would join.
Having earlier danced with a 'Ukrainian' folk dance group, I found that with Morris 'the steps were different'. From a 'free spirited' and open style, I entered a style which was far more intricate complex and set. But still far better than ballroom dancing. Throughout my time, this little contradiction showed up. With fortitude and patience, and help form Tubby and other members, I eventually got there.
Of Colin Mallett, he was on the same course as me. He was sponsored by the then Post Office Telecommunications, later to become BT. I had a close friendship with him while we were together at the University. But, since then have no knowledge of his whereabouts. He was a 'squeezbox' player looking very much like a diminutive 'old sailor' or 'sea dog'. He was a tune player and also a bit of a singer. At local folk clubs, he would come out as one of the floor musicians. However, he never was in the side as such, but on occasions did accompanied the band. He was sympathetic and persuasive person, was a student member on the departmental council, and helped a number of students when in difficulty. The highlight with him for me was in the final year, where at the Herzian Society, the electrical students association, of which both were members, I defended him at a 'mock-debate' on his expulsion. It was a memorable evening. The motion was defeated!
Mention must be made of Andy Allen's Gipsy and the time where he ran it on propane gas. I do believe it was during the oil crisis, and we were looking for cheaper means of running a vehicle. Although Andy was studying Electrical Engineering, he was a good mechanic, and had for this end modified a carburettor and the associated gear. Having proven successful, but for a few short journeys, he decided to go for the long one. However, he had not anticipated, that for longer journeys, a greater volume of gas would be passing over for a longer period, and that the valve on the gas cylinder would eventually freeze - a bit of gas physics, think of the fridge! What did not help was that it was also wet and cold. Interesting, to the engineers, was how smooth the engine operated, until it lost power and stopped. He then changed over to normal petrol operation, and so remained until arriving at our destination. On the way back, he had made a few adjustments. He hoped it might hold, but to no avail. Dark, wet, raining, he had to again, swap back to petrol. No comment on how much petrol there remained in the tank, only to say that we are still around to tell the tale. In the following weeks he had some thought of developing some form of feedback pipework off the heater to warm the gas left the valve. Subsequently, the crisis had eased and nothing further transpired.

I just thought you might like to record that when Tubby first went to Bath Uni I was Union Treasurer and my flat-mate Steve Hudson was NUS secretary. We went down to the pub at the bottom of Bathwick Hill with him and were introduced to the rest of the gang over a few ciders. We became hooked and formed part of the side (in part to encourage other students to join) .So we were founder members and danced our way round Somerset, learning as we went. Unfortunately Steve was short-sighted and I came to dread the stick dances!!!!

But it was a super time and I'm very glad to have been part of it and to know that the side still exists. I now live in Barcelona where none of my friends believe I danced until I perform "Bonny Green garters" -alone and usually with enough red-wine inside me!!

Keep up the good work

Regards

John Connolly  (April 2005)