If you caught yesterday’s blog, you’ll know I paid a visit to the West Somerset Morris dancers as part of my ongoing effort to reconnect with my English roots. It was a success. I left the session feeling more English than when I arrived, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. Witnessing part of something so intrinsically English is bound to stir the old DNA. But something did surprise me. I hadn’t expected to meet so many kindred spirits. Several WSM members recognized and understood the pull of home. They had also left their birth places before connecting in Somerset. I found out more about them during the tea break …
Apparently, they didn’t used to serve tea during practice ‒ until women joined WSM in 2015. Thank goodness for women, I say. As the kettle boils, I get to corner a few of the members to ask: why Morris dancing and why Somerset?
For several WSM members, Somerset is where they were born. Mitch, Reg, Dudley, Peter, Joe, Edmund and Ray have called Minehead, Watchet, Taunton or Bishops Lydeard home forever. Other members followed somewhat more circuitous routes to Somerset. Like Kathy and Andrew, husband and wife, who lived for several years in New Zealand. Retiring in Yorkshire, their desire to be active members of a Morris led them to Somerset. Though a passion for the dance attracted them to the Southwest, they happily report considering the area home now.
After a four-year stint in Africa, Nicky explored the rest of the world with her husband, Malcolm. It was a trip to visit the in-laws in Porlock that led to permanent residency on Exmoor. Nicky’s always enjoyed Morris music and as soon as women were invited to join WSM, she jumped in. Or is that cross-hopped in? ‘Dancing with the Morris is such an uplifting experience,’ Nicky says. ‘The men are hilarious, as you may have noticed.’ Yes. I have noticed.
Anne moved to Somerset seven years ago. She was delighted when the West Somerset Morris asked ladies to join. In her opinion, the WSM is the best thing about Somerset. Barbara was born in London, moving to Somerset thirty years ago. She didn’t hesitate to join WSM as soon as women were allowed. She tells me the group makes everyone so welcome, it’s like family to her now. I’m starting to get that sense after only an hour in the group’s company.
Edwin, who plays the concertina, was born in Watford, near my birthplace in Hertfordshire. He studied Classics at Oxford and came to Somerset ‒ via a stint in Manchester ‒ to be closer to his wife’s family. This is Edwin’s fiftieth year as a musician for WSM. He requires no sheet music, just the name of the dance and he’s off ‒ foot tapping, eyes half closed, lost in the moment. He tells me it’s the people here that make Somerset home. As I witness the jovial comradery in this village hall, I believe him.
Steve washes the mugs while I dry. His story is unique. Having spent his life in Oxfordshire, he dabbled in genealogy after retiring. Unbeknownst to him, five generations of his family were out of Watchet, a Somerset coastal community. Upon discovering this, he felt drawn back to his ancestral lands and here he is now: a Somersetian.
It’s an interesting mix of experiences: those who remained settled in one place and those who found home later in life. Both groups feel it’s important to perpetuate the traditions of Somerset and Exmoor. I’m shown memorabilia saved from each public display. Photos and flyers preserve happy faces outside pubs and on village greens and at Christmas celebrations. All proceeds from displays go to charity. This year WSM are supporting Halway Manor Library, The Air Ambulance and Southwest Children’s Hospice. Good fun and good citizenship. Win-win.
I ask Squire Joe if he considers Morris a re-enactment of the past or whether it is, in fact, forging ahead, making new traditions. He thinks it’s both. Times change: women join, tea breaks are added, and they don’t drink as much alcohol during displays anymore ‒ that’s what Joe tells me anyway. When asked about the main draw to join the Morris, Joe feels it’s a fun hobby that encourages members to connect to place, time and each other.
Sounds good to me ‒ ancient dance woven into the fabric of society. Dance aside, I see a pattern here: people searching for connection and home. Whether through ancestry or fluke, there’s a shared desire to be part of traditions that both precede and outlive us. I vow to weave myself back into England as soon as possible.
I wish you home for the holidays, wherever that is for you.
I heartily thank the West Somerset Morris for their kind welcome. The hilarity was a bonus!
For more information about West Somerset Morris: http://www.westsomersetmorris.co.uk/
To see more images, visit: https://www.facebook.com/author.traceygemmell/