C17th-present: background to, & dances of, the Ouse Washes Molly Dancers

Here’s the group, Ouse Washes Molly Dancers -

Says their website -

Ouse Washes was the name originally given to the area deliberately allowed to flood between the two great canals, dug by thousands of prisoners of war under the direction of Cornelius Vermuyden, in the 17th century. This flooding enabled the remainder of the fenland to be drained and turned into the best farmland in Europe. The Washes, therefore, is the only area that resembles the great watery wilderness that the fenland once was. There the customs, superstitions and ways of life lingered longest. In winter the flooded land is home to one of the largest gatherings of wildfowl in Europe, with ducks, geese and swans travelling from as far as Siberia and Iceland. In the summer the waters recede, the grass grows incredibly long and the Washes are home to many breeding species as well as birds and animals.

And -

The Ouse Washes Molly Dancers are a throw back to those halcyon days where the dance glorified the local heroes and reflected the uniquely freezing, windy wilderness where morris dancers dared not tread with their little tinkling bells and handkerchiefs. The Ouse Washes dance kit is itself indescribable but is said to be based on what the traditional dancers would have worn had they had access to today’s local charity shop, in other words colourful stuff.

Out of the murky, legendary depths where boggarts and the o’the wykes weave reedy dangers come the Ouse Washes Molly Dancers, where echoes of Fenland heroes, vagabonds and ne’er- do-wells are expressed in their unique brand of Norfolk Dance. Molly Dancing.

Ploughboys traditionally performed there own distinctive East Anglian dance when they were unable to work during the frosts, and on plough Monday (the second Monday in January) they would drag a plough round the villages, and dance whilst collecting money for beer and food. Some ploughboys even blackened their face so that they wouldn’t be recognised afterwards, particularly if they had just ploughed up some poor unfortunate’s garden who had refused to put money in the collecting tin (you are warned!). The dances they performed were either country-dances or a stylised interpretation of then, and became the forerunner of molly dancing, as we know it today.

We took the name of the area for our dance group as no one could object as no one lives there. We hope that we keep true to the traditions of the place, which is wild, dark, frightening and teeming with life – just like our dances.

I don’t know the name of the dance that they’re doing – and it’s not Morris Dancing! I find their looks, rhythm and moves mesmerising…

Their history is fascinating -

Lynn Advertiser, Tuesday 16th January 1844
The town of Downham, according to general custom, was visited this week by six or eight individuals, miserably decorated with ribbons, accompanied by a wretched tormentor of cat gut, designated a fiddler, styling themselves ploughboys, extracting alms of the inhabitants.

The police are generally alert in suppressing vagrancy, and were they to exert themselves to prevent cases similar to the above, the suppression would be a boon to the community.

The principal portion of the public in this neighbourhood are zealous advocates for and supporters of the plough, and would willingly give a trifle to the honest plough lad, when solicited to do so; but when the scum of the village, as in this instance, palm themselves upon the public as plough-boys (the principal portion of whom, it is doubtful, whether they know how to manage a plough, if they were ever engaged in such employment) it must be admitted the imposition is unbearable and ought to be put down- to say nothing about the gross insults generally given to those who refuse money when solicited.

Folklore, vol. 72 (December 1961) pp. 584-598 – Folk Life and Traditions of the Fens

‘The seasonal festivals of the year brought to the Fens, as elsewhere, their customs and traditions, most of them not surviving beyond the First World War.

Plough Monday saw the traditional procession of the plough and the demands for money made by the men and boys, many dressed as women or as horses. In the Southery and Littleport Fens, any woman refusing to give money would have her long drawers dragged from her and hung round her neck.

In the evening, at the Molly dancing, the money would be counted, and next day groceries would be purchased and delivered to needy old women. On this day too, teamsmen were initiated by having their noses rubbed against the horse’s tail.’

This dance is called the ‘Strange’ -

This dance came about because some of us liked the tune and thought that it felt right. It took six months to develop the figures and has become one of our core dances. The contrast between the darkness of the sound and the wildness of some moments in the dance comes from the heart of The Ouse Washes and reflects the environment from which the dancing comes. The fenland is the ultimate bland countryside, or so it seems from the horrible roads that cross it. Mile after mile of corn and sugar beet, roads that infuriatingly won’t go straight, drivers in cloth caps who won’t go more than 35, tractors which swing in front of you and stay there forever. But, get off the main roads, get out of your car and the sky towers above you. Ancient stories about Will o’ the Wisps and malevolent spirits seem very real. No wonder when they got together, fenlanders could be a little wild… the tune fits the place.

The group created a dance to the story of Mucky Porter, for which this is the music.