Cotswold Olimpicks: Britain's other games - Christopher Middleton celebrates 400 years of Britain's alternative games, the Cotswold Olimpicks.
A brisk Saturday morning in Gloucestershire, and stonemasons Graham and Ben Greenall are putting the finishing touches to their castle.
They’ve done the two towers, and are now starting on the front gateway and battlements. The whole structure has got to be ready by the end of May, which would be a problem were it made of the material the Greenalls usually work with.
As it happens, though, this fortress is made of wood, rather than stone, and its role is not to repel invading forces, but to serve as the centrepiece at this year’s Cotswold Olimpicks, an event so ancient that this year, it is celebrating its 400th anniversary.
A hotly contested shin kicking duel at the Cotswald Olimpicks
Spectators come from far and wide to watch the Cotswold Olimpicks in Chipping Campden
Yes, it may have been 1896 when Baron Pierre de Coubertin revived the movement that will culminate in the 30th Olympiad, in London, but it was way back in 1612, that local lawyer Sir Robert Dover organised the first-ever Cotswold Olimpicks.
They consisted then, as they do now, of various rustically-themed trials of strength and agility, which take place not in a man-made, multi-million-pound stadium, but in natural, grassy amphitheatre just outside Chipping Campden.
It’s called Dover’s Hill, and every year the Games here are presided over by a costumed, plumed figure of Sir Robert, riding on horseback, and accompanied by his right-hand man Endymion Porter, envoy and confidant of King James I. To get the proceedings under way, they fire a cannon (well, let off a large firework), and step back to watch the action.
As well as events familiar to modern-day spectators (running, shot-putting, hammer-throwing), there are other contests that won’t be featuring at the London Olympics. Such as the standing jump (a leap without a run-up), spurning the barre (a sort of wooden javelin-throwing) and, most spectacularly, shin-kicking.
This involves competitors dressing up in white coats (to represent the shepherds’ smocks of old), stuffing their trousers from knee to toe with straw (the 17th century version of shinpads), and then grappling with their opponent and attempting to kick his legs from underneath him. With the proceedings being refereed by a beady-eyed umpire, or “stickler”, so called because of the wooden staff he holds in his hand.
Instead of lasting two weeks, these Games last just two hours, and, once the sporting trials of strength are over, everyone – competitors and spectators alike, makes their way back down to the town in a mass, torchlight procession, for a night of dancing, festivities and downing of specially-brewed Whitsun ales.
In short, you simply couldn’t get a more powerful whiff of Britain’s rural past than this extraordinary annual event. Which explains why it’s still going after all this time, surviving various interruptions, such as in 1642, when Cavalier and Puritan tensions were played out not in the form of shin-kicking, but the English Civil War.
“The thing is, people in this country value eccentricity, and always have”, says Graham Greenall, who is vice-chairman of the Dover’s Games Society, and whose first trip to the Cotswold Olimpicks was in the 1950s.
“It’s not just the language, the landscape and the culture that make up Britain, it’s the tradition. And what this event represents is a part of our tradition that has almost disappeared, but still speaks very strongly to us.”
Amplification of the Olimpicks’ past is provided by the various written references to the event. For example, a whole host of 17th century poets penned contributions to the Annalia Dubrensia, a collection of works celebrating both Dover’s Games and the benefits of physical exercise, noting how, when the Ancient Greeks “frequented active sportes and playes, From other men they bore away the prayse.”
In keeping with the importance of the event, Jacobean celebrities are said to have attended Dover’s Games, among them the dashing cavalry chief Prince Rupert, and the local playwright (from neighbouring Stratford-upon-Avon) William Shakespeare.
“There is a reference in The Merry Wives of Windsor to a character whose greyhound has been 'outrun on Cotsall’ (Cotswold),” says Clive Thompson, vice-chairman of the Dover’s Games Society, who will be attending this year’s event, dressed as the bard himself.
“It’s also thought that the wrestling scene in As You Like It is based on the wrestling matches that used to take place here.”
Whether that’s true or not (both of those plays are generally reckoned to have been written by 1601) there is no doubt that Olimpick events were famous throughout the land, and fiercely contested. Victors in the major events won gold rings and silver-studded collars, while first prize for the running-in-sacks event was a pair of good shoes, and the winner of the ladies running race went home with a brand new, handsewn smock.
Even 60 years ago, you won a whole leg of mutton for triumphing in the climbing-the-greasy-pole event, while the winner of the bowling tournament would be awarded a live pig.
“As you get older, you start to appreciate the history of Dover’s Hill”, says 28-year-old Ben Greenall, Graham’s son, who’s been working on the new castle alongside his sister Juliette and his old schoolfriend Josh Thomas.
“I’ve been involved in these games since I was about four or five. In the old days, it just meant setting up the hot dog stall, but now it can mean anything from putting up the scaffolding to putting out traffic cones, from building the castle to remembering to buy the Fairy Liquid for the buckets-with-holes race (teams compete to ferry water across a polythene sheet made slippery with washing-up liquid).
“It’s the one night of the year when everyone who’s ever lived in Chipping Campden tries to make it back here, from wherever they are in the world. No one wants to miss it.”
Not that it’s just the locals who congregate at the Cotswold Olimpicks. Spectators now come for all corners of the world, and, this being London Olympic year, there is more attention than ever being directed towards Sir Robert Dover’s Games. Not that the organisers are trying to claim the modern Olympics are based on their Cotswold counterparts.
“It’s clear that when Baron Coubertin came to visit Britain in 1890, he went to the Much Wenlock Games, not ours”, says Graham Greenall, standing on top of Dover’s Hill and pointing out the aforesaid Shropshire town in the distance (you can also see Birmingham and Coventry).
“We don’t claim to have inspired the modern Olympic movement, but what we do take pride from, is being the oldest Olympic Games in Britain. If the Cotswold Olimpicks were a building, it would be Grade I listed, not a shadow of doubt about it.
“We’ve been here for 400 years, and we’ll be here for many more. By September, all the athletes will have packed up from the London Games and gone home. Come back to Chipping Campden in in 50 or 100 years’ time, though, and we’ll still be here.” ( telegraph.co.uk )
A brisk Saturday morning in Gloucestershire, and stonemasons Graham and Ben Greenall are putting the finishing touches to their castle.
They’ve done the two towers, and are now starting on the front gateway and battlements. The whole structure has got to be ready by the end of May, which would be a problem were it made of the material the Greenalls usually work with.
As it happens, though, this fortress is made of wood, rather than stone, and its role is not to repel invading forces, but to serve as the centrepiece at this year’s Cotswold Olimpicks, an event so ancient that this year, it is celebrating its 400th anniversary.
A hotly contested shin kicking duel at the Cotswald Olimpicks
Spectators come from far and wide to watch the Cotswold Olimpicks in Chipping Campden
Yes, it may have been 1896 when Baron Pierre de Coubertin revived the movement that will culminate in the 30th Olympiad, in London, but it was way back in 1612, that local lawyer Sir Robert Dover organised the first-ever Cotswold Olimpicks.
They consisted then, as they do now, of various rustically-themed trials of strength and agility, which take place not in a man-made, multi-million-pound stadium, but in natural, grassy amphitheatre just outside Chipping Campden.
It’s called Dover’s Hill, and every year the Games here are presided over by a costumed, plumed figure of Sir Robert, riding on horseback, and accompanied by his right-hand man Endymion Porter, envoy and confidant of King James I. To get the proceedings under way, they fire a cannon (well, let off a large firework), and step back to watch the action.
As well as events familiar to modern-day spectators (running, shot-putting, hammer-throwing), there are other contests that won’t be featuring at the London Olympics. Such as the standing jump (a leap without a run-up), spurning the barre (a sort of wooden javelin-throwing) and, most spectacularly, shin-kicking.
This involves competitors dressing up in white coats (to represent the shepherds’ smocks of old), stuffing their trousers from knee to toe with straw (the 17th century version of shinpads), and then grappling with their opponent and attempting to kick his legs from underneath him. With the proceedings being refereed by a beady-eyed umpire, or “stickler”, so called because of the wooden staff he holds in his hand.
Instead of lasting two weeks, these Games last just two hours, and, once the sporting trials of strength are over, everyone – competitors and spectators alike, makes their way back down to the town in a mass, torchlight procession, for a night of dancing, festivities and downing of specially-brewed Whitsun ales.
In short, you simply couldn’t get a more powerful whiff of Britain’s rural past than this extraordinary annual event. Which explains why it’s still going after all this time, surviving various interruptions, such as in 1642, when Cavalier and Puritan tensions were played out not in the form of shin-kicking, but the English Civil War.
“The thing is, people in this country value eccentricity, and always have”, says Graham Greenall, who is vice-chairman of the Dover’s Games Society, and whose first trip to the Cotswold Olimpicks was in the 1950s.
“It’s not just the language, the landscape and the culture that make up Britain, it’s the tradition. And what this event represents is a part of our tradition that has almost disappeared, but still speaks very strongly to us.”
Amplification of the Olimpicks’ past is provided by the various written references to the event. For example, a whole host of 17th century poets penned contributions to the Annalia Dubrensia, a collection of works celebrating both Dover’s Games and the benefits of physical exercise, noting how, when the Ancient Greeks “frequented active sportes and playes, From other men they bore away the prayse.”
In keeping with the importance of the event, Jacobean celebrities are said to have attended Dover’s Games, among them the dashing cavalry chief Prince Rupert, and the local playwright (from neighbouring Stratford-upon-Avon) William Shakespeare.
“There is a reference in The Merry Wives of Windsor to a character whose greyhound has been 'outrun on Cotsall’ (Cotswold),” says Clive Thompson, vice-chairman of the Dover’s Games Society, who will be attending this year’s event, dressed as the bard himself.
“It’s also thought that the wrestling scene in As You Like It is based on the wrestling matches that used to take place here.”
Whether that’s true or not (both of those plays are generally reckoned to have been written by 1601) there is no doubt that Olimpick events were famous throughout the land, and fiercely contested. Victors in the major events won gold rings and silver-studded collars, while first prize for the running-in-sacks event was a pair of good shoes, and the winner of the ladies running race went home with a brand new, handsewn smock.
Even 60 years ago, you won a whole leg of mutton for triumphing in the climbing-the-greasy-pole event, while the winner of the bowling tournament would be awarded a live pig.
“As you get older, you start to appreciate the history of Dover’s Hill”, says 28-year-old Ben Greenall, Graham’s son, who’s been working on the new castle alongside his sister Juliette and his old schoolfriend Josh Thomas.
“I’ve been involved in these games since I was about four or five. In the old days, it just meant setting up the hot dog stall, but now it can mean anything from putting up the scaffolding to putting out traffic cones, from building the castle to remembering to buy the Fairy Liquid for the buckets-with-holes race (teams compete to ferry water across a polythene sheet made slippery with washing-up liquid).
“It’s the one night of the year when everyone who’s ever lived in Chipping Campden tries to make it back here, from wherever they are in the world. No one wants to miss it.”
Not that it’s just the locals who congregate at the Cotswold Olimpicks. Spectators now come for all corners of the world, and, this being London Olympic year, there is more attention than ever being directed towards Sir Robert Dover’s Games. Not that the organisers are trying to claim the modern Olympics are based on their Cotswold counterparts.
“It’s clear that when Baron Coubertin came to visit Britain in 1890, he went to the Much Wenlock Games, not ours”, says Graham Greenall, standing on top of Dover’s Hill and pointing out the aforesaid Shropshire town in the distance (you can also see Birmingham and Coventry).
“We don’t claim to have inspired the modern Olympic movement, but what we do take pride from, is being the oldest Olympic Games in Britain. If the Cotswold Olimpicks were a building, it would be Grade I listed, not a shadow of doubt about it.
“We’ve been here for 400 years, and we’ll be here for many more. By September, all the athletes will have packed up from the London Games and gone home. Come back to Chipping Campden in in 50 or 100 years’ time, though, and we’ll still be here.” ( telegraph.co.uk )
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