In former days groups of men would perform 'The Old Horse', a sort of play, at various places in North Derbyshire at Christmas and New Year. In Yorkshire it was 'The White Horse'. In Lancashire, at Easter, it was known as 'Old Ball'. Dore people always associated it with New Year's Day.
The Old Horse at Dore
Their visitors were from Dronfield. Five or six of them would walk to Dore via Holmesfield. One carried a horse's head on a pole, with a black cloak attached. The late Peter Bradley recalled 'This was a papier mâché‐type head of a horse, with big white rings round the eyes, massive teeth and jingling bridles.' It was built round a horse’s skull. Its eyes were made of glass bottle bottoms, painted red in the middle and its ears were stuffed with white cotton.
Dore Memories
On the way they dropped in at all the pubs and some of the farms and houses. Lynne Bufton remembered that they called at several houses in Dore Road and the two village pubs before visiting The Mount in Causeway Head Road where she then lived. Lorraine Evans recalled open‐air performances in the village centre. When Peter was young they would also come into Barkers Row.
The Performance
Outside the man playing the horse put the head on and the cloak covered him up. Then they sang the first verse of the Old Horse song:
We have a poor Old Horse,
And he's standing at your door,
And if you wish to let him in,
He'll please you all I'm sure.
Chorus: Poor Old Horse, Poor Old Horse.
Once inside they continued with several more verses as the horse acted out his life story. This was basically the same wherever it was performed, but there were local variants in the text of the song.
He had strings inside his head to open his mouth. Peter described it like this: 'There was somebody underneath it working the jaws, and it used to clomp, clomp, clomp like a crocodile'. Lynne recalled what the horse‐actor did as the song progressed. 'He would lift the head high, chomping the jaws open/shut at the beginning when the horse was young, lowering it as he grew old eating short grass, until finally he died and lay on the floor'. Then the man nearest would kick his rump and say 'Gerrup Bob!', then a tot of whisky would revive him and the collection box was passed round.
The last performance of the night was at the Dore Moor Inn, then all the troupe went home by taxi. 'Mind you', said Lorraine, 'they were three sheets in the wind by the time they got here, in the first place'. So no wonder if they forgot some of their lines or brought in original Dore variants!
When the Old Horse appeared in the village, Lorraine found it a bit frightening. So did Peter and his young friends when the beast visited Barkers Row. 'He used to turn round, and we as small boys used to run up Townhead Road absolutely scared of the thing'.
The Old Horse Custom
What was the point of the Old Horse, apart from earning a few young men their beer money? The antiquarian S.O. Addy suggested that it was originally a ritual symbolizing the dying of the old year and the birth of the new. Again and again primitive societies acted out what they wanted to happen so as to make it happen. The Easter date in Lancashire, though, may reflect a Christianizing influence.
The Old Horse ceremony had died out locally by the 1970s. But we know it was performed at the Hare and Hounds in 1971. And at Padstow in Cornwall on May Day two 'Obby Osses' still cavort through the streets to welcome summer in.
You can read about the performance of 'Poor Old Horse' in Dore on 1st January 1971 and listen to a recording made on the day on The Yorkshire Garland Group website. (opens in a new tab)
Here are all the verses:
-
We have a poor owd horse,
And he's standing at your door,
And if you wish to let him in
He'll please you all I'm sure.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
He once was a young horse
And in his youthful prime;
His master used to ride on him
And he thought him very fine.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
But now he's getting owd
And his nature doth decay,
He's forced to nab yon short grass
That grows beneath yon way.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
He's eaten all my hay
And he's spoile'd all my straw;
He's neither fit to ride upon,
Nor e'en attempt to draw.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
We'll whip him, hunt him, slash him
And a‐hunting let him go,
Over hedges, over ditches,
Over fancy gates and stiles.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
I'll ride him to the huntsman;
So freely I will give
My body to the hounds then
I'd rather die than live.
Poor owd horse, poor owd horse. -
Thy poor owd bones,
They shall lie beneath yon ground
And never more be thought of
By all the hunting round.
Poor owd horse, thou must die.
Spoken: Get up Bob
