Pendle Witch Camp 2004

Text and Photos by Phil Ryder.

What? Druids going to a Witch Camp? Don’t let the title put you off; this was a truly open path pagan solstice camp with all traditions represented. The title was more to do with the area; the camp being located at an elevated position overlooking Roughlee with views of Newchurch-in-Pendle and of course the magnificence of Pendle Hill itself. To those who have read ‘Mist Over Pendle’ or ‘The Pendle Witches’ these names will be very familiar.

The event was a joint venture by ‘Spirited Away’ and ‘The Northern Pagan Archive’. They approached me some months previously; they wanted speakers on Druidry and asked for suggestions. I soon awakened to the fact that finding Druids with nothing booked for solstice is nigh impossible and so Screechowl, a Druid Network Member and priestess of our grove (The Oak and Feather Grove – that’s the plug over with), very bravely offered to do two talks – one on ‘Life Rites’ and the second on ‘Celebrating the Awen’. Consequently we decided that the whole grove should attend and celebrate the solstice at the camp – more of which later. King Arthur was performing the opening ceremony and giving a talk on Pagan Eco Activism, so together with Screechowl we druids were well represented.

The camp was from noon on the Friday until noon on the Monday of the solstice and so it was that I found myself pitching our tent in a prime position on Nogarth Hill on a very wet Friday afternoon. The site proved to be well chosen because despite all the rain over the weekend the ground remained firm and relatively mud free. Two large marquees had been provided for the talks, workshops and evening entertainment. Around these were gathered numerous traders’ stalls with lots of goodies designed to lighten your pockets and fill your stomachs.

Arthur performed the opening ceremony on the Friday evening with his usual flair and amused me greatly by making all assembled recite the druids vow, not just three times but until he was satisfied that they had put heart and soul into it. The camp fire was then lit and attracted those equipped with drums, the soothing rhythmic heartbeat of which was to pervade the camp for the next 72 hours; almost incessantly.

The next 48 hours was then taken up with an endless supply of talks, workshops, entertainment and socialising. Space prohibits detailed description but they included:
• Manipulation of Universal Energy by Mark Wildspirit
• Talks on the Supernatural World of Pakistani Women by Tania Ahsan.
• Pagan Storytelling with Andrew Macpherson (How does he remember them all?).
• Runes, with the man everyone loves to be insulted by – Murgen of Murgen’s Keep.
Arthur’s talk on Eco Activism was well received with Arthur urging everyone to become involved in any way they could in their local area. The rest of the talks were all of a high standard with Screechowl’s Awen workshop resonating with me personally, the energy raised with the chanting had to be felt to be appreciated.
The weather over the 48 hours was atrocious. The camp suffered from heavy rain, hailstones, frost and high winds; so high that the camp headquarters was wrecked and some of the traders stalls damaged. It is a testament to all those who attended the camp that despite the weather everyone remained friendly and good humoured.

And so to the solstice: We awoke just before 4:00 am and ventured out to be greeted by clear skies, mist strewn valleys and an indescribable sense of both calm and hushed expectation. Gathering close to the camp circle, all eyes fixed on the eastern horizon, we held our silent vigil. As dawn broke the sky flushed red and the ravens in the valley below began a raucous chorus that to my ears sounded like laughter. Then the sunrise, and what a sunrise! My bardic skills fail me and I feel humbled to have witnessed such a sight.

I felt a sense of sadness as we packed our tents and then gathered around the campfire to say our goodbyes. The gods had smiled on us and the morning had remained clear and dry easing our task of striking camp.
The clouds had started to gather around 10:00 am and we decided that it was time for our private grove celebration. As we came together to give thanks for the whole weekend the heavens opened and we were quickly soaked to the skin. What should have been a relaxed ritual with food and flowing mead ended up being the shortest ritual in our grove history.
We left the site to torrential downpour mixed with hailstones. I’d like to think it was Pendle weeping at our leaving.

Despite this being the first Pendle Witch Camp it was obvious that the organisers had planned it well. There were problems, which they freely admitted to, but none that spoiled the weekend. They have promised it will be an annual event – I will certainly try to be there.
Paul and Adrian, the organiser’s, commented on how friendly the locals had been. Some of them even brought cakes and other refreshments onto the site for our consumption. What a nice gesture! The Police had been very helpful during negotiations with the local council and the Fire and Rescue Service attended the site on the pretence of checking our campfire but sat amiably round the fire and posed with the ladies for photographs.
A final word of thanks to all who attended the camp and especially the organisers, the atmosphere was one of friendship and harmony and the weather only served to make it more memorable.