I've been out on a hunting trip. Shooting with a camera, you understand, not using sophisticated weaponry against defenceless creatures. But perhaps it satisfies some deep-seated urge to hunt, lurking yet in the human DNA from stone-age times.
This handsome plant is Purple Loosestrife which is a native wild flower in the UK. It occurs naturally in wet places and is here seen growing at the edge of a reedbed in a local nature reserve. The poet John Clare called it "Long Purples", a name which Shakespeare used for the Early Purple Orchid - that's poets for you. In the language of flowers it's supposed to represent persistence and it's certainly persistent if you grow it in the garden, being able to grow from any small pieces of root left in the soil and also enthusiastically self-seeding. In North America it's a troublesome invasive.
The Chiffchaff is persistent too, endlessly repeating its two-note song from a high branch. Some of them now survive our British winters and no longer bother to migrate. Presumably the female of the species is charmed by his minimalist serenade; she can often be found lower down in the bushes, listening intently.
There were several Hoverflies on the wing, all looking to a greater or lesser extent like wasps or bees. "Batesian mimicry" is the proper term for it - looking hard and dangerous while being harmless, as practiced by teenage boys everywhere. They are the gardener's friend; the adults are tireless pollinators and the larvae feed on aphids.
I'd hoped to see dragonflies and damselflies, but it was probably a bit cold and too breezy. But this small patch of reeds was in the sun and sheltered from the wind, and here I found a few damselflies.
I think these are Azure Damselflies.
Another little Hoverfly, doing what Hoverflies do best - hovering! They are surprisingly easy to photograph like this.
Soon these Hemp Agrimony flowers will be attracting all sorts of insects, including butterflies. That's always assuming that we eventually get some warmer weather.
It's just as well there's no family back at the cave waiting for the hunter to return from his foray in the wilderness. Not much meat to be had from a Chiffchaff and a couple of hoverflies and damselflies!
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Here's a wee tale about hunting. Robin Williamson was once a member of the Incredible String Band and has since had a musical career as weird and varied as anyone I can think of. Some work I love and some completely passes me by. At one time he decided to learn the harp in the style of the bards of old Ireland. Here he is playing that harp and recounting a very old story in his own inimitable way.
After a long and very wet, muddy winter spring is at last making an occasional appearance. Just odd and well-scattered days, but very welcome interludes.
Also much appreciated are the friendly, encouraging words that appeared in the comments of the last post. As you may have guessed I've not been feeling too great so far this year and have recently had a spell in hospital to try and sort things out.
The result is that I'm now venturing out tentatively to see the progress of the seasons and take a few photos.
If all goes well this little blog might yet bloom once again as we move further into the year 2024.
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When not investigating the local countryside I'm often to be found prowling YouTube and Spotify for music that catches my ear. Recently I encountered the work of Jerron Paxton, or "Blind Boy" Paxton as he sometimes styles himself, in the manner of 1930s blues singers. But he explores a much wider range of music than that, even embracing the songs of black minstrels - that is music they sang for white audiences - dangerous ground in such sensitive times as these. But as he explains in the intro to another song:
"We are dealing with history
History's tough - so we deals with it
Getting over it is tough, but it's necessary
Making up for it is tough, but it's necessary"
Listen as he weaves his web of history, humanity and humour in the introduction to the song. I'm sure you'll be as spellbound as those sitting behind him.
I wondered about the amount of money sent by the Choctaw nation to Ireland and discovered that, though widely different sums are quoted, the total was probably about $5,000 (at modern values). Even so I'm sure it was much appreciated as a symbol of solidarity. There's even a modern sculpture in County Cork in remembrance of the event
We can end with Jerron Paxton singing a song on a lighter note:
A scattering of faces of the performers and dancers at last weekend's Straw Bear Festival in Whittlesey. A wide variety of facial painting, facial hair and facial expressions:
Apologies to those of you who've heard some of this information about the origins of Whittlesey's Straw Bear Festival before - you can just enjoy the pictures! And there are a couple of new videos at the end. Overheard on the street: "Of course, this isn't really that old; it all started up in the 1980s, before that - nothin'".
Overheard in one of the pubs: "It's amazing that these old traditions have survived unchanged for centuries!"
And in a way both have a point.
Back in Medieval times, before there was a Church of England, our churches contained icons of saints and also candles that would be kept burning throughout the year. One of these was known as "the plough-light" and was supposed to protect farm workers and ensure a good harvest.
There was also a church service on the Sunday before the start of the agricultural year (then regarded as the first Monday after the Twelfth Day of Christmas) to bless the plough - an old plough was kept in at least one Cambridgeshire church within the last century. In order to pay for the candles to be kept alight the ploughboys toured the villages dancing, enacting rough little plays and collecting money on what became known as Plough Monday.
Details of exactly what went on are hard to come by, it varied across the country and probably evolved over time. With the coming of the Reformation the icons and candles were no more but farm workers still danced and collected money which went to the needy, but also paid for beer to wet the throats of the dancers.
In Cambridgeshire one of the dancers dressed from head to foot in straw and was known as the "straw bear". He also danced for money despite his disguise weighing around 30 Kg or 70 lbs. Exactly where the idea of the "bear" came from is not known though similar costumes are also known from Europe, so maybe it originated there - there has long been close contact between East Anglia and mainland Europe.
During the nineteenth century the custom declined and was almost lost, though a few folklorists collected a handful of dances and odd memories from the older people. The police tried to extinguish what was left by banning it as a form of begging, though in truth it was probably the associated drinking and fighting that they really objected to.
One of the last places where the tradition survived was Whittlesey. In the 1980s, after years of neglect, a few people sought to revive the practice in a small way.
Over the years it has grown beyond all recognition with many kinds of traditional dance being included - Cotswold Morris dancing, Border Morris, North-western Morris and clog dancing, Longsword and Rapper dancing, and even Appalachian dancing from the USA being added to the Molly dancing which was practised in East Anglia.
The dance styles have evolved too with new dances being invented and many more female dancers. As those of you who saw the video on the last post will have seen, many local primary schools have also become involved. There's also a folk music concert, a barn dance, poets, music and storytelling.
Here's a couple of videos for you:
From the sublime - Appalachian dance from the cleverly named Tap & Sync....
....might a man be dressed from head to toe in straw and led through the streets to entertain the townspeople. Because 'tis an old tradition.
Only in England....
.....do men stuff pheasant feathers into their hats, wear jackets made of tatters and covered in badges, paint their faces red and drink beer in the streets. Because dancing is thirsty work.
Only in England.....
.....would ladies armed with sticks go out during the coldest month of the year to do old dances that most people have forgotten. Because it's good fun.
Only in England.....
....would people risk frozen toes and fingers to play fiddles and squeezeboxes. Because you can't dance without music.
Only in England....
....do men from London dress up like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins and perform dances that were collected in the borderlands of England and Wales. Because what else is there to do in a pub car park in the middle of January?
Only in England.....
....will you find young women waving handkerchiefs leaping high in the air. Because they have the energy to do so.
Only in England.....
....does St George, with something stuffed up his shirt, fight with the devil, get killed then be restored to life by the Doctor. Because that sort of thing has always happened in Mummers plays.
Only in England....
....will you find men from Coventry decorating their hats with flowers and doing dances which originated in the cotton towns of Lancashire. Because they enjoy coming down to the Whittlesey Straw Bear Festival too.
Only in England....
....are these traditions patiently passed down to the next generation. Because their day will come.
(in case anyone hasn't a clue what's going on I'd better explain that I spent yesterday at the annual Straw Bear Festival in the Cambridgeshire town of Whittlesey, where traditional dance enthusiasts from across the country gather to dance throughout the town. Some of you will remember this event from when I went there four years ago. For newcomers I'll explain more about it and show you some more photos next post).
In the meantime here's a video of the Procession that takes place before the dancing begins:
"Would you care for this dance?" It might mean "Would you like to join me for this dance?" If you've seen me dancing you probably wouldn't, but that's not what I mean. It might mean "Would you enjoy watching this dance?" I hope you will. Or it might mean "Should we look after this dance and preserve it for future generations?" And that is precisely what the people you're about to witness are trying to do.
Cloggers
I've been scouring YouTube looking for an exponent of Northern Clog Dancing and can find none more entertaining than the wonderful Hannah James. In addition to her dancing she's also a lovely singer of traditional songs and also plays the accordion. Here she is dancing with the wonderfully-named band Kerfuffle....
Now if you come from the Appalachians you may think that this is your tradition, but it's actually been danced in the north of England since Columbus was setting sail for the west. At around that time clogs changed from all-wooden shoes to leather shoes with wooden soles and these proved to be ideal for "kicking up a racket". The tradition got a big boost during the Industrial Revolution when miners took it up as a cheap form of entertainment. Champion dancers made it on to the stage of the music halls, though in those days all the dancers were men.
Nutters
Just when you think you've seen every kind of dance there is to see, up pops the gently absurdity of The Britannia Coconut Dancers from Bacup. Every Easter Saturday they dance their way across Bacup, as they have done for generations, taking in several pubs and a stop for lunch. They wear wooden discs upon their hands, knees and midriff which may or may not be the origin of the "coconut" part of the name. The dance and their get-up is just about indescribable so it's just as well that you can watch them for yourselves....
(a wide variety of videos with quite a few featuring dancing)
Their blacked-up faces have caused all kinds of controversy in these politically-correct times. One day someone will notice that they also wear skirts and turbans too! And what about those clogs? Won't that upset the Dutch?
Rappers
No, not that kind of rapper. These rappers are short "swords" with handles on either end and are used in the north-east of England for dancing. In recent years the dancing has become faster and there are more and more female dance teams - and they keep getting younger! Here are the remarkable Sheffield Steel......
Just to wish you a Merry (but also a safe and peaceful) Christmas....
....and, as so many of you seemed to enjoy the YouTube video I gave you a link to recently, here's another, also showing a carol being sung to the "wrong" tune. This time it's the old favourite "The Holly And The Ivy", here being sung in a Yorkshire pub. The holly and ivy are of course pagan symbols of the old midwinter celebrations and there are those who claim that the song goes back to pre-Christian times. If so then it's a very old song indeed. But it has always struck me that there's something very odd about these verses. The first part of each verse - and the chorus - sounds as natural and unforced as any folk song. But then comes the convoluted and clumsy versification at the end of each stanza. It sounds to me as if someone at some time has tried hard to make an acceptable church song out of a much older rhyme.
If I'm right about its origins then it's perhaps fitting that it should be heard in a pub. So here it isechoing through the centuries in all its roaring glory.....
I "borrowed" the video from Dave Burbidge's YouTube channel which is full of excellent singing, some of it from rather unexpected sources. Merry Christmas. Take care.
(You will see that some of the dancers depicted in the post have blacked-up faces. This was done historically as a form of disguise so that people would not know who it was begging for money. There was never any real attempt to imitate black people; the ears, neck and hands are never blacked-up. Many modern dance sides are aware of possible misunderstanding and have changed their facial make-up, to bright colours, strange designs or just a few smears to make them look more like Victorian chimney-sweeps. One or two sides are determined to stick to the traditional black faces.
I hope this explanation will be accepted, but also apologise to anyone who may be upset by the inclusion of these pictures here).
While everyone else danced their way into the town's Market Place with joyful enthusiasm, one group chose to march in stony silence, their sinister bearing sending a shiver through the spines of any onlookers.
These are the men of Old Glory Molly Dancers. For the procession they are clothed in long black overcoats and have blacked up faces. Some of the men carry a stretcher or bier loaded with small toy bears. They are accompanied by similarly black-clad women with extraordinary headgear woven from copious amounts of ivy. These women carry small black cases.
When it comes their turn to dance the men take off their overcoats to reveal an array of old waistcoats and cord trousers worn over hobnailed boots. They look unlikely dancers and indeed they perform an unlikely dance!
With never a smile on their black countenances the men grasp each other and with ponderous, galumphing steps they proceed with their dance.
The small cases carried by the women turn out to contain their musical instruments. What an extraordinary sight, and sound, they make.
Three of the musicians with their instruments, one-row melodeons in the key of C, very like Cajun accordions, but with slightly different tuning and very different tunes. Their instruments also include whistles, drums and, believe it or not, a tea-chest bass.
For some dances they post "sentries" at the corners of the sets. They stare out unflinchingly at the onlookers with never a word or a smile. The overall impression is of grumpy and cantankerous old men being forced to do a thing which they are determined not to enjoy - I find the whole show completely hilarious! So here are a few more photos and then a video of these courageous upholders of English working-class cussedness in action.
In case you don't catch it at the beginning of the video clip the man tells you that the dance is called "The Buck" after their local pub in Rumborough, Suffolk. He also says it's nice to see so many smiling faces which, in view of their solemn demeanour, gets a laugh from the audience. At the end of the dance a man appears to be approaching the camera, he then veers to his left and plants a very sooty kiss on the cheek of one of the ladies in the crowd. Here then are The Old Glory Molly Dancers:
