Goathland Plough Stots Day of Dance

A bit of history

Plough Monday, the first Monday after Twelfth Night, marked the return to work after Christmas. Young farm lads, the 'stots’, once dragged a plough round the village and threatened to plough up the gardens of anyone who did not pay them. Goathland’s dance had died out by the early 1900s and was revived in 1923, and the team has danced each year since, apart from the war years. Today women and juniors dance too. The plough is still blessed at St Mary’s Church the weekend before.

What you’ll see

The Day of Dance starts in the morning from the Goathland Community Hub, where the teams perform together before splitting up to tour the village through the day. Several sides with dancers of all ages take part, accompanied by musicians and a fool. Each dance has its own tune and ends with the swords locked together into a star, which is held up for the crowd. A display of memorabilia charting the team’s history has been part of the day in past years. You can follow the dancers from spot to spot or settle near one stop.

Watching, taking part and tips

The dancing is done by the Plough Stots’ own teams; visitors watch and follow. It is free, and collections are taken. Dress for a cold, windy moor, with waterproofs and warm boots, as most of the day is outdoors. Stand back to give the dancers room when the swords come out. Whitby is the nearest sizeable place to stay, though Goathland has a few pubs and guest houses.

Finding a spot

The linked swords are only part of the show. The Plough Stots’ own website names a supporting cast of a gentleman, old Isaac, the fool and the musicians. Watch how they introduce the dancers and how the music holds everything together — the team plays fiddles and accordions, not a recorded soundtrack. Try to catch one whole dance from its introduction to the raised lock, keeping the floor clear until it’s done.

The uniforms are worth a look too. Adult dancers wear pink and blue tunics, white sashes and grey trousers with red stripes, while younger dancers wear tabards in the same colours — handy for telling the groups apart when the day splits into smaller tours of the village. According to the website, there are five dances for six sword dancers and another that brings in two more. Don’t worry about naming every dance on sight. Enjoy the shifting formations and the moment the separate blades lock into a single shape, and let the performers decide how much room the set needs.

Joining in

The Reading Room is part of the story, not just a handy rehearsal space. The team says it was built by village subscription and that the Plough Stots have looked after it since the mid-1970s. Their display of dance memorabilia — costumes, photographs and records — offers another way into the tradition, linking today’s dancers to the people who performed before them. Ask whether the display is open when you visit rather than assuming the building is open all day.

For background reading, try Ryedale Folk Museum’s account. It links the routines to the early nineteenth century and explains why theories about prehistoric fertility rites are disputed — a good nudge to look at what’s actually documented, rather than taking every colourful detail as an unchanged ancient ritual. If the dancing sparks your curiosity, compare the display with the museum’s account afterwards. You can enjoy the spectacle without settling where it all began, and the efforts of local people keeping the dances going and teaching them are a story in themselves.

Questions people ask

Where it is

The pin shows the approximate area. Open in OpenStreetMap