There were signs as I drove into Abbots Bromley

saying there might be delays on the roads thanks to “Horn Dance Day”.

There was still mist on the ground as the sun rose

and I parked up in rural Staffordshire.

More than a dozen videos into this series, it does feel a little odd

that I haven’t yet talked about any Weird English Traditions.

So, those signs felt like a good omen.

(background chatter)

It’s busy in the village already. It’s only 7:30 in the morning.

And my instructions are:

go to the church and look for the people in the costumes.

There were already lots of people there.

I didn’t have any special access here: this was a public event,

with lots of people inside and outside the church,

and there were two types of people in there:

folks from the village and the surrounding area

who clearly all knew each other,

and a lot of…

Tourists is the wrong word.

There were definitely tourists, and I’ll talk about them later.

But mostly, the outsiders were people like me with cameras,

here to broadcast, not to save memories for themselves.

The man with the jingling bells is Terry, the jester, we’ll talk to him later.

In the meantime, the folks in costume are taking the antlers off the wall.

Look, there’s a lot that I’m gonna need to explain later.

If I talk about it all now,

we’ll be in the church for most of this video and it’ll be really dull.

But in nearly every shot here, you’ll see someone with a camera,

maybe a small GoPro,

maybe a 360 camera on a very long stick...

longer than mine, but never mind.

Or maybe it’ll be some odd hybrid camera

which appeared to take physical film plates

while also having a modern flash attached?

I wish I’d asked him about that.

Or it’ll be a full professional camera,

either someone from the local newspaper or an agency stringer

who’s come along to get some footage that they might be able to sell.

And all of us with cameras are... awkwardly jostling for position,

not wanting to interfere with proceedings

but also not wanting anyone else’s camera in our shot.

With the antlers down, everyone in costume ready,

and all the photographers off at the side,

the vicar welcomed everyone and led a short prayer.

Bless all who visit this parish today.

Give them joy in their hearts and surround them with your loving care.

And bring them safely to their journey’s end.

Amen. (audience mutters “amen”)

For anyone who’s used to more vocal religious worship, don’t worry,

the gentle mutter of “amen” at the end there was normal,

actually it was positively enthusiastic by most Church of England standards.

Anyway, up went the antlers, and also the hobby-horse,

and everyone headed outside.

Everybody ready? ’Cos we’ve got to stop the traffic.

-Are we ready? -Yep.

And we were off.

(accordions playing ‘A Hundred Pipers’, triangle chiming)

The oldest village tradition in England sets out

and immediately a taxi decides to turn around and go the other way

because the high street’s gonna be blocked for a while.

The Abbots Bromley Horn Dance has three phases:

first, walking down the street in a line.

-Morning Jill, you all right? -Morning Jill!

You all right? Morning, you all right? (music continues)

And as this happens, the locals take pictures from their doors,

or follow along.

Whoa!

Second: stepping back and forth, back and forth,

in what seemed like a very simple routine

but which, I would find out later, was much more difficult than it looked.

And third: parading around in a circle or a couple of small circles.

(music continues)

Eventually, they turned off the main road and started a route through the village,

because this is not a single early morning dance.

I don’t think I appreciated quite what a physical challenge

this actually is for them.

Because, like, I’m running around with a camera,

as are so many other people around here.

Oh, it’s okay, it’s been about 15 minutes.

They’re going to be walking with those all day.

They’re going to be playing accordion all day.

Like, they’re not finished until 5pm, 6pm, something like that.

Also, there’s quite a few car drivers somewhat confused.

Like most English towns and villages,

you can track the architecture getting more and more modern

as you head away from the centre.

Also, let me explain that triangle that’s very loud in all of the footage.

The Horn Dance has a cast of characters.

Along with the dancers and the musicians,

there’s the jester, Terry, who’s in charge.

There’s the hobby-horse.

There’s the kid with the bow and arrow,

which she’s usually blank-firing in rhythm as percussion,

it’s just very quiet compared to everything else.

There’s Maid Marian, that’s the man in blue and yellow.

And there’s the kid with the triangle.

Because that’s a very young kid,

I think they got swapped out at various points,

because the level of triangle skill

seemed to change quite a lot as we went along,

both in timing and enthusiasm.

After 45 minutes or so of parading around the parish,

they made it to their first pit stop.

(applause)

There were bacon rolls and drinks,

and even occasional tots of what I think was brandy or whisky

being given to the folks in costume.

There were still a few folks with cameras watching on,

although a lot of the press photographers had got their shots and moved on,

and some of the villagers had gone to get ready for work

or to take their kids to school.

And everyone moved out of the way for the bin lorry.

While they were stopped, I had a chat with Terry, the jester.

How long have you been doing this?

This will be my 46th year.

46th year, so did you start out as the kid on the triangle?

Or has it been... -No, I started out by going to a fête

where the dancers were and the jester didn’t turn up.

-Right! -Luckily, they’d got the clothes...

-Yep. -...so, I ended up doing the jester

and I’ve done it ever since.

And the history of this is a mystery, apparently.

(laughter)

Yeah, it’s a mystery.

Nobody really knows what it’s all about.

I mean, there’s one story that says it’s a celebrational dance,

’cos it’s just after the harvest was got in from the farmers.

And then other people say it’s a fertility dance.

Right.

Like when you see the horns going backwards and forwards,

it represents two male stags when they’re fighting...

-Right. -...at rutting time.

And then the circles as we do.

But that’s all a guess, presumably?

There’s no written, definite thing.

All we’re interested in, we’ll make sure it keeps going, like.

The dance used to be on Christmas many, many years ago,

and at some point it switched to Wakes Monday,

which is a holiday date that seems to change by English region

and it would be far too much of a tangent to explore that right now.

And all the history of that has been lost.

That’s the mystery of the dance. That’s why we think we’re so popular.

As you can see this morning, I mean…

Yeah! I mean, there’s been a steady attrition of the press photographers,

who presumably like me, turn up for the start and then decide…

because you’re finishing at what, eight tonight?

-Yeah. -So how far are you gonna be walking?

I mean, you’re talking about 12, 13 miles of like…

They finish...that’s the dancers, not me. -Yeah. (laughs)

Oh, yeah, because they’re going to go round and round, aren’t they?

I’m too old for that! (laughs)

So, they’re all walking a half marathon with heavy antlers on.

Why are they doing it?

Because that’s what happens every year.

The first written record that includes the antlers is from the 17th century,

in The Natural History of Staffordshire.

I don’t have a physical copy of the book,

even modern reprints cost hundreds of pounds.

But in there, it says that the village has,

“a sort of sport called the Hobby-Horse Dance,”

which included the dancer on the horse, along with

“six others, carrying on their shoulders as many reindeers’ heads”.

It’s clearly an earlier version of this,

with lots of things in common,

but what stood out to me, and maybe this is just a non-expert’s misreading,

but it looks like a fundraising event.

The record talks of a pot,

held by the chiefs of the town, with cakes and ale.

And “all people who had any kindness for the Institution of the Sport”

would give a little bit of money towards church repairs

and the poor people of the town,

which is still happening.

I didn’t get any footage of it on the day ’cos I didn’t think it was important,

but there was a collection going round as they passed by each street,

and I bought a t-shirt, because I felt like I should support them a little.

And there are plenty of places across the UK that do something similar to this,

whether it’s the local rotary club

having Santa touring round in a sleigh at Christmas

or some other charity parade.

To be clear, actual folklore scholars do not know where or when this came from.

Wild reindeer have been extinct in Britain for centuries.

The antlers have been carbon-dated

to somewhere around the 11th or 12th century,

so, about a millennium old,

but that doesn’t mean they’ve been in the village that long.

There’s a decent chance that they were imported from Scandinavia,

although why and how they ended up in a Staffordshire village, no idea.

This paper with the carbon dating has thirty-seven citations

and none of them have any actual explanation.

Its conclusion is basically, “We don’t know”.

I did find a photo dated 1899,

and the metadata there says that the Horn Dance

“celebrates the granting of the Charter of the Forest by King Henry III”.

That’s a law that restored some rights to commoners.

But that idea seems to come from the notes in a Victorian-era book of pictures

by documentarian, Sir Benjamin Stone,

and the language in there seems to imply that the writer just…

decided that?

It says that the dance “clearly indicates its original object”

and that “clearly, therefore, the primary intent

“was to assert certain rights” about hunting.

That seems to have as much evidence behind it

as my idea about it being a charity parade.

We all interpret what we see through our own lens.

Anyway, they let some of the spectators have a quick go,

they continued along country roads, picking up more and more people,

performing in someone’s front garden.

You can see there’s fewer cameras out now,

it’s more locals and some enthusiastic folklore tourists.

The sun started to get higher in the sky and it got warm as we kept walking.

There was also a performance at a country house for the local dignitaries

where the riffraff like me must stay outside the boundaries.

(music continues)

As we moved through quieter country lanes,

the discipline of the dance wasn’t held to quite such strict standards:

often they were just out for a walk while holding some horns,

although cars were still getting stuck behind the big crowd.

-Oh, that car timed it wrong, didn’t he? -Yeah.

The music occasionally got a little less traditional, too.

(‘Dam Busters March’ playing on accordions)

(crowd applauding)

Did I hear the Dam Busters drop in there briefly?

You’ll hear all sorts of things depending on his mood.

(laughter)

Anything from Nelly the Elephant… (laughter)

Yes, I slipped up there.

I didn’t mean to play that this early in the day!

And then, at the next pit stop,

they called for more spectators to have a go,

so I volunteered.

That turned out to be slightly painful,

and I’ll explain the reason for that in a moment.

I’ve been on the road in Japan for a couple of weeks,

and all my mobile data has been going through one of Saily’s eSIMs.

I can report that it’s worked really well.

the data speeds are fast, the network coverage is wide

and I don’t have to pay the ridiculous roaming charges from my regular provider.

I’ve had no problems.

So if you’re travelling soon, download Saily now, while you’re watching this video.

Then when you set off, it’ll be ready.

Buy a pass just before you take off for your destination,

and your phone will work right after you land,

you take it out of airplane mode, and it finds the local cell service.

And that way you don’t have to pay

however much your home network wants from you for roaming.

Saily has plans for countries around the world, or for whole regions,

or even the Ultra plan that I’m using, which means

your phone just works in more than a hundred countries,

along with giving you passes for airport lounges and fast-track security.

You can download Saily right now using the QR code on screen,

or the link in the description,

and remember to use the code TOMSCOTT at checkout

for an extra discount.

With most of the crew taking a break,

I volunteered to be one of the civilians having a go.

So I handed my camera to someone,

and picked up some antlers.

-One hand there. -Yeah.

-And then, so this hand down. -Use that hand and balance it up here.

However’s comfier. -Yeah. Right.

If…okay, yep. This…

It’s heavier and both much less balanced than I thought it was.

This could be an 800+ year old set of antlers here...

Oh, easily, yeah.

That I’m just holding with one hand and my shoulders.

Yeah, you’ll be fine.

Thanks! (laughs) No pressure. -No pressure.

That’s…that’s stable. I’ve got that, okay.

At least I hope I’ve got that.

-Has anyone told you what to do yet? -No.

-Okay, good. -No.

-Good. Same here. -I’m very nervous...

-Same! -...that something’s gonna break off.

Oh, apparently you’re holding the one they’ve carbon dated to the 12th century.

Oh, my God. I think I’m holding the littlest one.

-Yes, that is the lightest one.

-That’s why you’ve given it to me. -This is unfortunately the heaviest one.

-The delicate girly. -(laughter)

-Alright. -Get between us.

-And I’ll follow you. -Yep.

What about when we’re doing the back-and-forth thing? Do I just...?

Ah, it’ll make sense as we go.

(laughter)

Okay! -You’ll work it out.

Right!

(music starts)

There is one thing I’m worried about as I’m showing this off to the world.

There are plenty of British traditions that have come close to ruin

thanks to the internet.

The annual cheese rolling at Cooper’s Hill used to be a tiny local event like this,

but back in 2010 a rush of publicity meant it was cancelled

due to overcrowding, and it nearly died out.

The Lewes Bonfire is now so overcrowded that they urge the public not to attend,

trains don’t stop at the local stations, roads are closed.

The Horn Dance is a little protected against all that:

there’s less fire and spectacle,

and it’s a gentle, all-day event held on a Monday.

But you saw how many cameras there were, mine included,

all of us jostling to try and make it look like there weren’t as many cameras there,

because that’s less authentic.

I do have a duty of care to the places I visit.

Anyway, here’s where I get hit in the teeth.

The real trick is how close can you get together...

It’s fine, we got it, we got it! (laughter)

-Without getting dizzy of course. -(laughter)

Already dizzy, already dizzy.

-Oof! -Careful.

-Oh, my... -Well, that hit me in the teeth, so…

My concerns, in order: first, do I still have all my teeth? Yes.

Second, are the horns okay?

Yes, they’ve survived centuries, and they’re horns.

They’re literally made by deer to get clashed together.

Third, did I get that on camera?

Yes, I did.

Oof!

But the dance must go on,

even if holding the camera out made me look like the worst of vloggers.

Mornin’.

And you’ll notice that when we cross over,

the experts have learnt to duck their antlers down to avoid

having the exact sort of collision that I had.

(cheering, applause)

(music stops)

-Yeah, thank you so, so much. -No problem, mate.

-That is so kind of you. -I’ve got hold of it.

Whoo! (laughter)

-Survived, did it? -Well, I clashed antlers with someone...

-I’m intrigued to see that, actually. -So am I.

Next time, or right now on Nebula:

I help wind and fire 22 tonnes of mediaeval destruction.