Memorandum by Graham Downie (TF 29)
TRAVELLING FAIRS
Fairs in Britain have a long and ancient history.
Over the centuries they have played an important role in the economic,
social and cultural life of this island and its people.
The Romans were once credited with their introduction—the
word fair itself is derived from the Latin "feria",
a holiday—but the tradition is more deeply rooted.
We can only speculate on their origins, but
they probably lie in the pagan customs of the people who brought
agriculture to this land and established settled communities.
Their seasonal gatherings, held perhaps for the purposes of both
festivity and trade, contained within them the essential elements
of the fair.
The link with the cultivation of the land and
the rearing of stock is an important thread in the history of
fairs. To this day the fluctuating rhythm of the annual cycle
of fairs reflects the pattern of the farming year.
Two ancient fairs which survived into the 20th
century illustrate something of the nature of these prehistoric
prototypes. Weyhill Fair, in Hampshire, was held on an isolated
hilltop at the meeting point of several prehistoric trackways,
including two important trade routes; the Gold Road from Wales
and the Tin Road from Cornwall. Relics of pagan sacrifice found
there and the presence of a Bronze Age Barrow confirm the antiquity
of the site.
The location of Woodbury Hill Fair in Dorset
was of similar significance: the broad summit, enclosed by huge
ramparts, of an Iron Age fort. Thomas Hardy knew both these events
and described them vividly in two of his novels. In The Mayor
of Casterbridge Weyhill Fair is the scene of the sale of Henchard's
wife, while Woodbury Hill Fair is the model for Greenhill Fair
in Far from the Madding Crowd.
The Romans did much to promote fairs by improving
trade and communications. In the centuries following their departure
many fairs and pagan festivals were incorporated into the calendar
of the emerging Christian Church. Major changes followed the Norman
invasion. The existing English fairs, few of which were thought
worthy of mention in the Domesday survey, were reconstituted along
French lines.
Charters granted by the sovereign gave the fair
legal status and an increasing importance in the economic life
of the nation. Merchants from the continent and beyond were drawn
to the great chartered fairs of the Middle Ages, bringing with
them a wealth of goods. Italian silks, Spanish iron, French wine
and furs from the Hanse towns could be found at the major fairs
such as Sturbridge Fair, held on the outskirts of Cambridge, and
Bartholomew Fair on London's Smithfield. Even the precious stones
and spices of the East were brought from the markets of Moscow
to these shores for sale at the principal medieval fairs.
The sheer number of these fairs—no fewer
than 4,860 were chartered in the years between 1200 and 1400—drew
not only the merchant but itinerant entertainers as well; jugglers,
tumblers and musicians—the ancestors of today's travelling
showmen.
The Black Death of 1348-49 brought about a new
kind of fair. In order to stem the rise in wages caused by the
shortage of agricultural workers, Edward III introduced the Statute
of Labourers. This caused all able-bodied men to present themselves
annually for hire at a stated wage.
Like many another "incomes policy"
it was of limited effect. Further, similar acts followed in subsequent
centuries, the most important of these being the 1563 Statute
of Apprentices.
These hiring fairs were held at relatively quiet
times in the agricultural year: the month of May, Michaelmas and
Martinmas. In many cases the practice of hiring would have been
added to already existing fairs as these would have provided an
immediate audience.
Many of these hiring fairs survive today as
pleasure fairs. The practice of hiring had largely disappeared
by the end of the 19th century, although it lingered on in some
rural areas until as late as the 1930s. Generally described as
Statute fairs, they are known in certain parts of the Midlands
as "Mop" fairs, a term derived from an old word for
tassle, or tuft. Labourers wishing to be hired would wear an emblem
of their trade; the shepherd a tuft of wool, the thatcher strands
of straw, the carter a piece of whipcord.
Most Mops were followed within a week or two
by a second hiring—the "Runaway Mop". If a labourer
was dissatisfied with his new job he would run away to seek another
employer at the second fair.
By the early 18th century the trading aspect
of the fair was on the wane, and events such as Bartholomew Fair
consisted almost entirely of amusements. Principal among the competing
attractions—acrobats, illusionists, puppet plays, beast
shows and freaks—were the booths of the theatrical companies.
Such was their popularity, they even attracted French fairground
players, whose performances in the style of the Italian Commedia
del Arte provided the inspiration for British pantomime.
It was around this time that the first merry-go-rounds
appeared. Contemporary prints by such artists as Hogarth show
these early roundabouts operating among the booths and sideshows.
Small in scale, rudimentary in construction, they were propelled
by gangs of boys.
Steam power came late to the fairground. It
was not until 1868, by which time industry and rail transport
had long been dependent on the steam engine, that it found its
application at fairs. In that year Frederick Savage, a successful
agricultural engineer at King's Lynn, devised a satisfactory method
of driving roundabouts by steam.
His invention, a steam engine mounted at the
centre of the ride, was to transform the travelling showman's
business and with it, the appearance and character of the fair.
Freed from the limitations of muscle power,
roundabouts could be made larger, more diverse in their design
and ornamentation and—most importantly—capable of
carrying a much greater number of passengers.
The golden age of the pleasure fair had begun:
an era epitomised by the elaborately-carved "Galloping Horses",
suspended on twisted brass rods in rows of three or four and leaping
round to the strains of a mechanical organ. Fuelled by the expectations
of fairgoers the showman's unceasing demand for novelty was matched
by the ingenuity of Frederick Savage and his rival engineers.
In the wake of the steam revolution an astonishing variety of
new rides appeared; the Switchback Railway, the Steam Yachts,
Razzle-Dazzle and Cakewalk.
But rides were not the only innovations. For
many country folk, their first sight of electric lighting was
at the local fair. Travelling showmen were quick to recognise
the entertainment potential of moving pictures. Within months
of the Lumie"re brothers pioneering demonstrations of this
new invention in 1896, crowds were packing the fairground Bioscope
shows to watch "the flicks".
Despite this new attraction, the shows—once
the mainstay of the pleasure fair—were losing ground to
the rides. By the time of the first world war, the Scenic Railways
with their exotic cars and special waterfall effects were the
biggest crowd pullers. In the aftermath of the Great War a new
generation of rides appeared, including the Dodgems—still
the most popular fairground ride.
The story of the travelling fair is one of continuing
evolution. Novelty—the showman's stock-in-trade is the vital
element in maintaining the public's custom. Fairs may have changed
over the years in response to change and innovation, but their
purpose remains the same: to provide the fairgoer with a form
of entertainment that is readily accessible, unpretentious, exciting
and uninhibited.
During the course of the 20th century the fair
has had to withstand competition from new forms of mass entertainment—the
cinema (which it spawned), television and latterly, the advent
of video games.
The fact that the fair has withstood this competition—and
managed to come up with fresh attractions—is the result
of more than just an innate capacity for survival. Even today
the fair still retains its age-old appeal: an opportunity for
a brief escape from the daily toil into a seemingly carefree world
of simple pleasure.
If evidence were required of this essential
appeal one need look no further than the start of this year, when
the Mall in London was the setting for a travelling fair. Held
to launch the nation's millennium celebrations, the fair was a
huge success, attracting in excess of one million visitors during
its four-day stay.
As the critic AA Gill, writing in The Sunday
Times about the Dome, observed: "This the fair was more
in tune with who we really are and what we want to be. The roundabouts,
rifle ranges, gaudy lights, slot machines, pop music, candyfloss
and course humour were replete with as many metaphors and similes
for who the British are at the turn of millennium as you could
possibly want. And it was fun".
But despite this obvious popularity (or perhaps
because of it?) the travelling fair is an undervalued aspect of
our cultural life. This situation is in distinct contrast to countries
such as France and Germany where the fair has a status that commands
the respect of the authorities.
All too often in Britain the travelling showman
faces an uphill battle in order to gain a living. All he asks
for is a place to operate, somewhere to exercise his right to
trade. Time and time again this essential element in his life
is threatened by the ambitions of planners and developers, or
the indifference of local authorities.
Those of our historic fairs that still occupy
town centre sites do so in the face of constant threats to their
survival, whether it be from development schemes or the critics
who place their own narrow commercial interests above the needs
of the community.
These fairs are upholding a tradition that is
several centuries old. Indeed, the very shape of our ancient market
towns was determined by the presence of the annual fair and the
weekly market. The fair was then an important function of the
town, a role that it can still play.
If we value the part travelling fairs play in
the life of the community, then greater protection must be given
to the sites where they are held.
Most at risk are those in town centres. Where
development schemes—such as pedestrianisation or enhancement
projects—have an effect on the operation of an established
fair then it should be obligatory for the local authority to recognise
and safeguard the requirements of that fair. Consultation with
the showmen should take place right from the outset rather than,
as is usually the case, when plans have been finalised.
And if the local authority, or any other form
of developer, fails to fulfil this duty, then there should be
a mechanism through which an appeal can be made to higher authority.
As a first step, the registration of all established
fairgrounds, based on certain criteria, would assist this process.
Given an acceptance of this it would, in the same way that greens
and commons (in some cases also the sites of fairs) have registered
status, provide a measure of protection that is essential to the
future well-being of travelling fairs.
Over the centuries the travelling fair has undergone
numerous changes in assuming its present form. As the historian
William Addison has commented, it is now, paradoxically, closer
in spirit to its origins than those that complain it has lost
its original character might think.
Unlike other institutions that have in recent
years been recognised as forming part of our heritage, the travelling
fair is no museum piece. It is an aspect of this island's heritage
that is still very much alive. It deserves nurture, not neglect.
Graham Downie
Chairman
The Fairground Association of Great Britain
Associate Director
The National Fairground Archive
The University of Sheffield
February 2000
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