As we have told already, the Morris dance is a bodily manifestation of
vigour and rude health, and not at all of sinuous grace or dreaminess.
This will be obvious at a glance to anyone who watches the traditional
Morris dancer at his evolutions. The first step, therefore, towards
acquiring the true art of the Morris-man is to put away all thought and
remembrance of the ballroom manner--really to unlearn, so far as
possible, the lessons of the dancing-master and all his exhortations upon
and exhibitions of glide, pirouette, _chassez_; the pointed toe, the
gently swaying body, the elegant waving and posturing such as become the
finished performer of round and square dances in the drawing-room. To
say, put away for a while these methods is to put no slight upon them, or
to offer a word of criticism: it is requisite and necessary, even as one
should advise a change of clothing to somebody about to quit the ballroom
for some rough-and-tumble pastime in the open fields.
Firstly, as to the manner of the steps. The Morris-men wear bells
strapped to their shins; the bells are there that they may ring their
music--and a fine wholesome music it is, too: to ring, they must be well
shaken; to be shaken, the leg they are strapped to must be kicked and
stamped. Get that principle into your head, and that practice into your
legs, and you make the first long stride towards acquisition of the art
of Morris dancing. Strap a set of bells to your shins, get out upon a
grass-plot or the King's highway; never mind elegance or the criticism of
the emasculate modern: kick and stamp upon the earth in such a manner as
to make your bells ring their loudest, and ring all together. You will
see pretty soon that, to do so, you must, when you jump, let the heels
come solidly to earth, immediately following the toes--no man, even an
old-time Morris-man, may jump and alight upon his heels alone, with the
spine held rigidly above them (_see_ p. 33). You will find also that, in
stepping it, whether to advance or retire, or to step rhythmically in one
place, to make your bells ring the true _fortissimo_ you must _kick_, and
kick hard.
Half an hour's experiment of this kind will do more to instil into the
would-be dancer the spirit that presides at Morris revels than chapters
of exhortation. It is a robust and friendly spirit, and will set the
learner's steps--given that he be of English blood, or even of
Anglo-Saxon sympathy--a-thumping to its solid downrightness.
Once possessed of the spirit, the form of the Morris step needs little
explanation and description, for the steps are few and simple. With an
eye upon the foregoing notes and, it is hoped, a personal memory of the
experiment as recommended, the learner will readily grasp the description
that follows here.
Roughly, the Morris step is alike throughout all the dances; it varies
only in force, length (i.e., the length of the stride varies more or
less), and height (i.e., the foot is lifted more or less).
The foot, when lifted, is never drawn back, but always thrust forward.
The toe is never pointed in line with the leg, but held at a right-angle
to it, as in the standing position. The foot, therefore, the forward or
stepping foot, is lifted as in walking, as if to step forward, then the
leg is vigorously straightened to a kick, so as to make the bells ring.
At the same instant that the forward leg is straightened, a hop is made
on the rear foot; the dancer alights upon the toe, but lets the heel
follow immediately and firmly, so that he stands upon the flat foot. A
good snap-shot photograph of one in the act of walking, when the forward
foot has made about three-fourths of its stride, gives a perfect
illustration of the Morris dancer's step.
As with the step, so also with the jump, which in so many cases begins
and ends a measure; the dancer jumps, roughly, as high as his own foot,
holding when in air legs and body straight, alighting upon the toes, but
only so as to break the shock sufficiently for comfort, then letting the
heels come firmly down. In alighting from the jump, the knees are bent
just enough to save the dancer from injurious shock, and are straightened
immediately.
Such are the Morris step and jump; the jump never varies; the step does
vary as to height, length and vigour of stride, as will presently be
noted. It must, however, constantly be borne in mind that, high or low,
there is always sturdiness in the Morris step; to Morris-men the
languorous and the lackadaisical are for ever unknown.
For the purposes of compiling a notation, we have classified the steps
necessary to the dances described into two, as follows:--
In the step most commonly used the raised foot is thrust forward only so
far that, when the leg is straightened to the kick, the forward heel is
roughly the length of the dancer's foot in advance of the toe of the rear
or supporting foot. This step, it must be remembered, will be used
always, except when specific instructions are given to make it higher or
lower.
In the high step, used chiefly in the figures called "Capers" (_see_ p.
50), the dancer must, if his activity will allow of it, raise the forward
foot until its toe is as high as the knee of the rear or supporting leg.
It is an exercise not to be attempted all at once in its completeness,
because it is one well calculated to send the inexperienced enthusiast
sprawling on his back. Its study should be approached gently, by way of
familiarity with the simpler movement, which, once it is mastered, may
easily be extended to the harder one. The latter must be approached with
caution--that is all. And the novice is to bear constantly in mind that,
in the matter of vigour, he simply cannot put too much of it into his
Capers. There will be little trouble about his remembering that, however;
the Morris Caper-music will not let him forget it for a moment.
This step is called in the Notation--High.
It has always to be remembered that in Morris dancing, unless definite
instructions be given to the contrary, every movement or part of a
movement is begun by stepping out with the right foot.