[Editor's note: what follows is an unedited and unaltered copy of a magazine article describing the early years of the Morris Men of Little Egypt.
References to "now" or "last year" etc. therefore have to be read in that context
and the article does not (necessarily) refer to the present state of the side.
Except for Neville.
He's still Squire.
Oh, and we still don't take ourselves too seriouslly.]
© Steve Clarke 1999, 2018.
If Morris Dancing is really only a product of the romanticism of the arty classes of the late 19th Century, then its late 20th Century resurgence belongs to the beery groups of rural wannabees who grew up ot Sandy Denny’s rendition of "Matty Groves" and matures with innumerable pub renditions of “Wild Rover” or "The Holy Ground" – “Fine gel ye are” – and badly-played penny whistle. |
So let it be with the Morris Men of Little Egypt. |
It would be nice to claim that our roots lie in some Arcadian idyll, of rosy-cheeked maids and muscular swains. |
The present Morris Men of Little Egypt can, however, at least claim to be part of a revival – possibly the shortest in Morris history. Our first incarnation happened as early as 1989, when a small group of recruits met under the expert tuition of Fred Sanders and John Aldous (of Belchamp Morris) to learn a few dances to entertain the at that year’s church fete in our home village, Glemsford, nestling in its own oasis of calm and tranquillity above the twin valleys of the Stour and Glem, in Suffolk. As a result of our ecclesiastical exertions, several of us tried to keep the side running, visiting Belchamp (across the Essex border) on a semi-regular basis for extra tuition, but in the end, that effort lost momentum, and fizzled out. ![]() |
A revival came in 1992, when Fred and John were again approached to provide entertainment for the annual church fund-raising exercise. Some of the recruits for the reincarnation were from the side of ’89; apart from Fred and John: Neville Parry, Peter Ford and Steve Clarke again offered their services, along with other stalwarts such as Geoff Monk, Derek Southgate and our import from the colonies, Lt Col. Bob Farmer from Tennessee via the USAF and Mildenhall. |
Second time around, we were more determined to keep it going. After our first faltering stepping out, we met in the Black Lion and put together
the basis of a constitution and a set of aims, including the noble intention of “not taking it too seriously”
and “not committing ourselves to more than one performance a month during the summer.” |
It is amazing how quickly traditions can be established. We are Men of Glemsford. Even now when people flock from far and nearly-Norfolk to be with us,
we have maintained the requirement that more than 50% of our members must live in the village. |
At that first general meeting, Neville Parry was elected Squire, the position he has held ever since. We decided early on that our side’s colours
would be “three blues and a yellow”, shown on baldrics (actually crossbelts) and bellpad. As we claim to dance in Cotswold style, we wear also the traditional white uniform, a
range of coloured waistcoats, neckerchiefs and flowered straw hats. There is some variation in this kit, allowing for expression of individual taste, and the availability of material.
We have also become quite well known for our alternative uniform, which comprises an imitation of Victorian farmworker’s dress, namely dark trousers and boots,
collarless shirt, plain waistcoat
and headwear (top hat, bowler, cap). For “Oily Smuts”, read “Horkey”. This variation of kit has now become our official uniform for another tradition, the annual celebration of the
Suffolk harvest, the Horkey. Oily Smuts tours represent another facet of the Life of Little Egypt: activities beyond pub dancing and outside the village. |
We have also travelled further afield. One year, we visited and travelled along the Norfolk Broads. |
Mention of song takes me to the issue of music. Little Egypt’s is now s strong musical side. When we started, we depended on Fred for his trusty melodeon work. |
As well as close-season mumming at Christmas, our après-danse entertainment includes a wide variety of songs, ranging from coarse songs about dubious
rustic morals, often involving William
and Nancy, through rousing hornpipes and community singing, to full operatic arias as purveyed by James Meek. Floreat Parvum Aegyptum. |