I’m descended from a convict and a champion clog dancer.. so at least there’s some theatre in my family
Strictly Craig traces his roots
Lacing the heavy wooden clogs tightly to his feet, Craig Revel Horwood’s trademark confidence momentarily deserts him. Challenged to recreate dance moves made by one of his Australian ancestors more than a century ago, the Strictly Come Dancing star is put on the spot.
But it only takes a few seconds before his feet are shuffling away happily.
Craig, 52, is thrilled to discover he is not the first dancer in his family. “There is – finally – some theatricality in my blood,” he declares in tonight’s Who Do You Think You Are?
Researchers on the BBC1 show make the discovery that, in 1870, Craig’s greatgreat-grandfather Harry Macklin Shaw was working on a sheep station by day and spending his free time clog dancing.
By 1871 he has a medal to prove he was the champion clogger of Australasia.
Craig learns Harry had arrived from the cotton mill town of Ashton-underLyme in North West England and settled in Glen Innes, New South Wales.
Clog dancing was inspired by the sound of the cotton mill machines, with the men dancing to keep warm. The clogs protected them against damp floors.
Craig says clog dancing isn’t easy – but he loves it. “It felt so strange. In normal dance shoes you can point your toes, these are hard to balance in because the soles don’t have flexibility.
“I might need two more years of studying it to be any good.”
And the acid-tongued Strictly judge got a taste of how the celebrity dancers feel every year. “It was a bit frightening when they said, ‘We’re going to teach you how to clog’. On national television.”
Craig has been so inspired by Harry’s story he is going to use it in a brand new production that he is choreographing. “I’ve used it as inspiration for a ballet with Balletboyz. It’s going to follow my Who Do You Think You Are? history of gold mining and clog dancing,” he says.
Ahead of the show opening at Sadler’s Wells in London in October, he has been putting in research of his own.
“I’ve been watching lots of videos,” he says. “It seemed very old-fashioned, like Morris dancing. But I was shocked to see not only how many cloggers there are now, but just how brilliant they are. Not just in this country but all over America.”
In the genealogy show, viewers learn Harry liked to throw all-night parties and was so keen to meet good clog dancers he left his “one-horse town” and travelled to Sydney and advertised for people to compete with him. He even offered £20 if they could out-dance him.
Craig finds parallels between Harry’s story and his own. “He went to the big smoke to make it. And I was in Ballarat, and moved to Melbourne. So to think my great-great-grandfather has done the same thing is just madness.”
His 100-year-old gran Phyllis, known as Phonse, provides the photo of her grandfather Harry. Phyllis was raised in an orphanage with eight siblings after her mum died aged 40 in childbirth.
Craig says: “I like they used the funny and insightful stories – there were some horrid ones too. But it wasn’t too heavy – a lot of people have lots of murder.”
He hopes people will be inspired to delve into their family history before it is too late. He regrets not doing so with his dad Phil. Drunk on rum in 2015, he collapsed with blood poisoning and broke his neck aged 74. His mother, Beverley, and sisters Sue and Di, still live in Ballarat.
“My dad would be so proud of his forefathers too. I just wish he was here to see all of this.”
On his paternal side, Craig finds more British blood. Great-great-grandfather, Moses Horwood travelled to Australia as a convict in 1841, sentenced to 15 years after stealing money and jewellery from a hotel in Chelmsford, Essex.
Craig is struck by a picture of Moses’ son Charles and his wife Lizzie, whose grandfather arrived in 1854 during the gold rush but declared himself bankrupt.
He finally strikes it lucky when his family find a £250,000 nugget but Craig is horrified to learn none of the wealth was passed down to his branch of the family because Lizzie was a woman.
“I was a little bit gutted,” he said. “Selfmade is what they were and, of course, that’s exactly my story over here as well.”