This England

Long Live The Guisers!
Ibecame an actor during Christmas
1947 when I was 13 years old.
Up to this time I was so shy, so
self-conscious, that I cringed every
time I entered a cafe or room where
people were present. But then I
became a member of a group of guisers
(sometimes called mummers) who at
Christmas went around my corner of
Nottinghamshire performing a kind
of seasonal play which dated back to
medieval times. Six boys with blackened
faces formed the group.
The one who began the play was called
the “Opener In”. Here one needed a
lad full of gusto and self-confidence. In
Keith Simpson we had just the right boy.
Dressed in top hat and tails he would
knock loudly on the door of the house
where we intended to perform, then walk
straight in uninvited and begin.
This element of surprise was vital,
for once we were in not many people
stopped us, especially once their children
saw Keith’s blackened face. His opening
lines were:
“I open the door and enter in,
I beg your pardon to begin:
Whether I sit or stand or fall
I’ll do my duty to please you all.
Room! Room! Give us room!
To sport our merry rhyme,
For remember good sirs
Tis Christmastime.
Step in St. George and clear
the way.”
St. George then appeared wielding
a huge sword. Sometimes he would cut
through any garlands that were hanging
too low. Then he would shout:
“I am St. George from old England
sprung,
My name throughout the world has
rung:
Many brave deeds and wonders I have
known,
A traditional folk play is performed every Boxing Day at Wantage in Berkshire.
MICHAEL WINTERS/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO
St. George in a mummers play in Southwark
on Twelfth Night. PETER MARSHALL/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO
I have made tyrants tremble on their
throne.
I followed a fair maid to dungeon
deep,
Confounding beauty to meet her fate;
When a giant almost struck me dead,
But by my good valour I cut off his
head!”
After his noble speech I would run in
dressed as a soldier and carrying a sword.
My part was Slasher, and being disguised
I was able to give the part everything; all
my inhibitions were erased by soot and
rouge. Confidently I would begin:
“I am a gallant soldier and Slasher is
my name,
With sword and buckler by my side
I’m sure to win the game.
A fight with thee St. George if thou art
able,
Disable, disable, stand thee not in my
power
For if I draw my glistening sword
I’ll soon thee devour.
My arms of brass, my body of steel
No man on earth can make me feel!”
St. George then challenged me to a
fight, waving his sword in my face and
shouting:
“Stand back! Stand back thou dirty dog!
I’ll make your buttons fly!
I’ll cut they belly clean in two
And thou will surely die!
Take guard you white-livered beast
For hungry crows on you will feast.”
48 THIS ENGLAND, Winter, 2017