Today has been an intensely charged day. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that there was a storm brewing. It wasn’t until the local headlines via Facebook arrived that our community down here realised that one of their number, had quite suddenly departed. Lafrowda is a community festival held in St Just which has grown from strength to strength over the years. I didn’t personally know Paul, the landlord of a well known hostelry in St Just, but judging by the outpouring of shock and sadness that flooded my FB timeline, he was a well loved and respected member of his community.
For some reason it kept coming into my mind today how awful this morning must have been for Paul’s widow. No husband to wake up with who was there just hours before…
When we reached St Just today to perform in the Golowan Band, it was overcast and misty – typical West Cornwall weather most would think, but not typical of Lafrowda apparently, as I found when I talked with others I met there. Then I noticed that the St Pirans flag was flying at half-mast from the church. What a touching tribute to the man – and also his pub was ‘open for business’ as he would have wanted. How poignant…
The day also seemed to be cursed by tiresome, melodramatic attention-seekers but, when put into context, was simply just irksome and annoying – not really of any importance or significance.
When finally we returned to our village I went to the village shop for supplies and found out that the proprietor was cousin to the previously mentioned widow. She related to me details of a shocking tragedy that this woman had to endure earlier in her life. How desperate she must be feeling right now, it doesn’t bear thinking about. 😦
I’m glad that the community has declared it’s respect and love for her husband so eloquently. He was obviously someone of character and stature in his town. In time, with this sort of quiet recognition, the family will heal and life will go on. For tonight, even though I didn’t know you, I salute you Paul – you lived a life that mattered.
A Life That Matters
Ready or not, someday it will all come to an end. There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, days. All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else. Your wealth, fame and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance. It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed. Your grudges, resentments, frustrations and jealousies will finally disappear. So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans and to-do lists will expire. The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away. It won’t matter where you came from, or on what side of the tracks you lived. At the end, whether you were beautiful or brilliant, male or female, even your skin colour won’t matter.
So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured? What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave. What will matter is not your success, but your significance. What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught. What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched, empowered or encouraged others. What will matter is not your competence, but your character. What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you’re gone. What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you. Living a life that matters doesn’t happen by accident. It’s not a matter of circumstance but of choice. Choose to live a life that matters.
I have been a whistle-blower for most of my life. It’s something I feel compelled to do when I come across injustices and needless to say it has got me into hot water! Whistle-blowing can be awfully lonely because often the very people who you believed would support you, either turn against you or keep their heads down and act embarrassed with the hope that you will go away or cease such behaviour. Whether this happens within a private or a public situation, there is almost always retaliation and/or reprisals from the bully or abuser (whether system, company or person). Often ‘gas lighting’ is aimed at the whistle-blower, not only to attempt to distract or silence the instigator, but also as a salutary lesson to other workers, team members or acquaintances not to do the same or support them in any way. It makes one wonder why on earth people like myself risk such circumstances? Well, I can let you know why I do it.
As a village wisewoman I strive to be honourable and altruistic in my dealings with folks, bearing in mind that I am human and can make mistakes. This however, is not just a role I play within my community – it is a lifestyle. I have a conscience that is not at peace unless I do my best to try to aid others who I feel are being bullied, abused or otherwise treated unfairly. I really do try to be diplomatic in my handling of this but sometimes even then, my plain speaking triggers an anger response from the person I’m confronting about their behaviour. Most of the time I try to deal with this stoically as I recognise that, to an extent I am drawing their fire away from the object of their persecution or bullying and instead become their target.
However, this trait can also create enemies and even what I call ‘frenemies’ (enemies who used to be friends). Occasionally you get a banding together of these types of individuals into a cabal of plotters who get fixated on revenge – and sadly that is what appears to have happened to me – and by association, my partner.
The last time I took someone to task about what I perceived to be unfair and dictatorial behaviour, it ended in both myself and my partner being ejected from the Morris side that we were members of. There was a heated exchange when I realised that this person had contacted people known to be part of the previously mentioned ‘cabal’ behind our backs and was parroting their lies. The meeting ended with me calling him “A silly little man” and that was the end of that…or so I thought.
Never underestimate the vindictiveness of a overblown, and therefore fragile, ego! There then followed a series of attempts to sabotage the event that I organise that he and his team had been part of and had subsequently left. These I dealt with as they happened and did my best to rise above these obstacles and annoyances. My partner and myself anticipated that there would probably be gossip and rumour to deal with, as there often is when people fall out for whatever reason, but then it got really serious. At the weekend it was brought to our attention that extremely offensive and malicious lies had been fabricated in order to blacken our names and characters. So vile have these accusations been that I am considering taking legal advice on this matter.
Why am I airing all this on my blog when normally I would keep a dignified silence? The answer lies in the title of this post. There are times when it is more appropriate not to feed negativity and refrain from trying to justify yourselves or reason with the unreasonable. However, a line must be drawn in the sand when boundaries of decency and integrity are breached and this is one such time.
The Morris community on the whole is a merry bunch of revellers and pranksters of varying abilities who like nothing better than to dance, play music and party. Of course they have their differences and their fallouts but I would hate to see this community riven by this level of attempted victimisation. It has to cease immediately.
The perpetrators of this slander know who they are, and so do I. I choose not to name names at present and hope that this post will be warning enough. If they do the honourable thing and desist for the sake of the Morris community I will say no more about this.
Come along to this event and meet Author and Wise Woman of St Buryan, Cassandra Latham Jones. She will give a short talk about her book and life as a Wise Woman, answering any questions you may have. Cassandra will also sign a book for you on purchase. She and her partner Laetitia look forward to meeting you.
At Beltane this year we completed Penkevyll’s final makeover or maybe it would be more accurate to say, emergence. We celebrated that with a photoshoot taken by the talented John Isaac.
Penkevyll’s journey from there to here has been dynamic, dramatic, poignant and at times a little spooky. Just for clarification I need to say that the title of this post does not refer to her life, and then her afterlife as an Oss, but of how she used to be a Penglaz and then transitioned into Penkevyll. I do see the need for a little background so, time to settle down and hear the story. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, A Tale of Two Osses! 😀
The year was 2008 and I had received a startling phone call that was to have ongoing repercussions for years to come had I but known it. I had been Teazer to Penglaz the Penzance Oss for many years. This was a role that had slowly evolved over the years, building on it’s tradition as it went. That previous winter we celebrated the very first Montol festival and Penglaz was to play a crucial role within the festivities. This turned out to be the one and only time that this particular Penglaz appeared at Montol. In April I received the aforementioned unexpected phone call from the chap responsible for creating and riding Penglaz, to the effect that he would be retiring from Golowan and Montol and that he was taking his Oss with him. Bombshell was an understatement! :O
It was only 6 weeks to Mazey Day, when Penglaz traditionally made her appearance, and I had to make some quick decisions. Once I had permission that I could recreate another Oss modelled on the previous style, I gathered through networking a small, select team of people with the appropriate skills to do just that. Despite having to work my way through a lot of obstructions and petty politics as a result of a rival Penglaz being made hurriedly, our Oss eventually made her debut at Montol 2008.
Sadly although a few traditions can survive despite conflict and rivalry this was not the case in Penzance. Although our Oss team was completely open to sharing and co-operating, the rival team were not and wanted to be ‘the only Penglaz in the town’. After a couple of years of this during which I’m sure everyone got thoroughly fed up with the wrangling, it all came to a head. The outcome was that our Oss was asked to withdraw, along with the rival Oss, and the original Penglaz and Rider returned.
If you’re thinking that I’m missing out a lot of detail here, you would be correct. However, I really don’t think it would be helpful to the community in general to open up old wounds – especially as things have moved on so much since. So, I will content myself with this briefest of outlines about our Oss’s previous life as a Penglaz. (So those who were relishing a melodrama about it all can put away their popcorn and depart back to the sidelines!)
So, there we were with an Oss with no name or a function. Over the years I had researched Osses and associated beasties in the West Country and knew there was, albeit sparse, documented evidence of a Lands End Oss who stalked the outer margins of West Penwith. Since we were based in nearby St Buryan that seemed an ideal role to revive and recreate. I also came across an archaic Cornish name for ‘horse’s head’ which was Penkivell or Penkevyll which we then adopted for her during a naming ceremony performed in March on my birthday 2011. It was at this time that I took the crucial decision to buy Penkevyll from the co-creators for a mutually agreed price which we shook hands on. She has been happily stabled with us, definitely part of the household, and rather wonderfully the community, ever since. 😀
We worked on Penkevyll’s appearance giving her some new improved ears and mane. The kit started off with black, midnight blue and blood red tatters and ribbons. Our Oss had been created primarily as a processional, dancing Oss and thanks to the skills of a brilliant local engineer she is extremely versatile in her movements – however, the downside is that Penkevyll is also extremely heavy and can only be operated by a male of appropriate strength. This is because of her weighty mechanism plus the fact that she was obviously a big horse of German descent with heavy bones. However, we have always had Riders for Penkevyll and at that time we had a very lively and enthusiastic Rider in Laetitia’s son, Rhys. We brought Penkevyll out for her very first appearance in the community at the Penwith Pagan Moot, which we were hosting that Spring Equinox, where she was received with warmth and delight. 🙂
The following few years were full of action and drama as I entered the Morris world for the first time and we introduced Penkevyll the Lands End Oss to Morris festivals up and down the country. We created a dance team called Boekka (Cornish for scarecrow) to accompany Penkevyll, and special Oss and Teazer dances were devised by Laetitia in which we both danced and teased the Oss in a choreographed manner – very unlike the improvised madness that I had been used to on the streets of Penzance with Penglaz! However these dances were quite spooky and atmospheric! It was great to meet so many different Morris sides and performers and it definitely opened up a new world to me. I truly never anticipated learning how to Morris dance in my sixties! 😀
Time moved on, and so did people. There was an amendment to the kit colours as we were finding that all sorts of different shades of red were creeping in, including pink (!). So it was decided to change this in favour of dark purple and it stayed that way until quite recently. One thing that became more and more noticeable as the years passed was that it was quite difficult to get Morris dancing off the ground in Cornwall. Ironic when you think that there is a school of thought that has referred to the bench ends of St Columb Church, Cornwall as the earliest evidence of Morris dancing in the country! Some declare that Morris is too English for the Cornish and there certainly is a focus on Cornish dancing instead being more popular. The outcome was it was getting increasingly more difficult to find members for our team who were willing to travel and perform elsewhere. Add to this the pure logistics of travelling to venues outside of Cornwall and it became inevitable that the dance team would finally subside which it did in 2015.
However, all was not lost – far from it! This meant we could concentrate more on the Oss and Teazers only and this is when it became really interesting…
I had always wanted to meet the famous Welsh Mari Lwyds and finally at long last it happened in 2014 – a year that was to prove quite a breakthrough for Penkevyll the Lands End Oss & Boekka. I write in detail here about that initial meeting of a Cornish Oss with the Mari Lwyd:
Something magical happened when that meeting occurred, because from that first contact, wonderfully creative and exciting events have developed. I have written extensively about this marvellous journey here:
Penkevyll has travelled widely within Britain including Scotland and Wales, but not Ireland as yet. I would personally love to take Penkevyll to Brittany to complete her tour of the Celtic Nations!
Recently, and the reason for this blog post, we changed Penkevyll’s kit for the final time. It was shortly before St Piran’s Day this year and I was admiring the lovely Cornish banners we had around our nearest town, Penzance. It was then I had the idea of since our Oss is a sort of ambassador for Cornwall when she visits other towns and countries, and that Lands End is so iconic, it made sense that Penk (as she is affectionately known) would wear Cornish colours for her kit. So, I leave you with Penkevyll the Lands End Oss, accompanied by her Teazers, resplendent in black, gold and white.
Our 4th All Hallows Gathering will contain a few changes. A fortnight ago I received an email from Angie Latham that said that she was stepping down from a few roles she held due to health reasons, and that this would include being Morris organiser for the Dark Gathering. Although I was saddened to hear of her health issues, I understood the need for her to cut down on her responsibilities. I want to take this opportunity of publicly acknowledging Angie’s hard work and commitment to the Gathering, and I personally thank her for her support and enthusiasm for this event from its small beginnings to the hugely popular happening we enjoy now. Take a bow Angie! 😀
Moving on… Catseye Morris are unable to perform at the All Hallows Gathering for what appears to be the foreseeable future. I am sure I am not alone in thanking the Catseye team for their unique contribution to the Gathering in the last couple of years. In their place this year will be another Cornish side, Wreckers Border Morris. Wreckers are an inclusive and energetic Morris side who are a lot of fun and we look forward to their performance alongside Beltane Border Morris and Wytchwood.
Finally, it has been decided that it would be a good idea to have, if possible, a Guest Side each year. So, the following invitation is going out to any side that would like to perform at our All Hallows Gathering:
We are sending an open invitation to any sides that consider themselves to be dark and edgy and preferably of Pagan persuasion (although not essential) to perform alongside Beltane Border Morris and Wytchwood Morris at the annual All Hallows Gathering at the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic. If you are interested please apply to Event Organiser
At the end of each Gathering we will make an announcement about which side has been chosen as Guest Side for the following year. Make sure you submit any offers early as we already have had interest shown from some Dark Morris sides.
There are several things planned for this year’s event but I will fill you in on those details nearer the time. In the meantime, enjoy a taste of Wreckers performing Evesham Wheel at Restomel Castle.
Anyone that knows me is aware of my deep and abiding fascination with Obby Osses and lately in the last few decades with the Welsh Mari Lwyd. Last year I came across this inspired article by a young man called Kristoffer Hughes who I met at this year’s Chepstow Wassail with his Mari Lwyd. He is an author and a Druid and his Bardship is strong and vibrant. Curl up in front of the fire with a warming drink and enjoy his excursion into the spooky realms of…
The Winter Mare – Mysteries of the Mari Lwyd
By Kristoffer Hughes
Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Hark at the hands of the clock. Now dead men rise in the frost of the stars. And fists on the coffins knock.
Bright Yuletide lights may lull us into a false sense of security that the dying time is over. It is not. As the year took to its deathbed at the Calends of Winter/Halloween the cycle did not restart immediately, oh no, for the season of darkness is long and biting, the descent into the tomb deep and silent. Dying takes time. Fists on the coffins knock.
As the great wheel of the year comes to a standstill, under the harsh bite of winter, the sun stalls in its progression across the skies of dawn, and nature holds its breath. The promise of spring is held within the magic of the Midwinter Solstice, lights shine brightly to warm the dark nights, and revelry and feasting bring families, friends and communities together in the hope that somehow – that warmth, that joy – will push back the edges of darkness. A mere 3 days later Christmas echoes this ancient magic of hope, new birth, promise and life. And yet this promise is still not tangible, we barely sense it, will we survive? Winter will not release its grip willingly. Will we make it through the dark days to come, will we survive the tempest?
Near the warmth of our hearths we tell ghost stories, by candlelight we share tales of our ancestors, each alluding to the fact that the time of greatest hope is tainted by the anxiety that winter instils. As the engine of the New Year is ignited, we are not yet out of the woods. Dark spectres lurk in corners, disembodied whispers reach out from the shadows, and the thin veils between the worlds of the living and the dead herald the arrival of another spirit – the Mari Lwyd (The Grey Mare) As the feasting of Solstice and Christmas move into full swing, the Mari Lwyd appears in darkened streets. Her troupe, who themselves represent the dead, guide her to the enticing lights of celebration. They lead a stark white skull of a horse, adorned in ribbons, a flowing white gown about her form, with jaws that snap at those whose poetic prowess fail to gain her admiration. She comes from the land of the dead, from the Otherworld, a reminder of the function of winter and the mysteries of life, death and rebirth.
Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Hark at the hands of the clock. What shudders free from the shroud so white stretched by the hands of the clock?
She is shrouded in mystery, her origins are unknown. Some claim that the tradition reaches back to Pagan times. Others claim an unbroken tradition of bringing out the Mari. The truth of her history may never be revealed to us, and to an extent this matters not. What does matter is that she lives, she is a living tradition, and one that is enjoying a revival in Wales and further afield. A living tradition changes with time and with the people that imbibe life into the remnants of ancient practise.
The Grey Mare probably evokes a memory of the function and sacredness of Horses. The horse was revered in Celtica as a symbol of power and fertility and long associated with the Goddesses Epona and Rhiannon. White animals in particular had the ability to cross from the Otherworld to our world, and one wonders if the stark whiteness of the Mari is indicative of this belief. Horse deities were representative of the sovereignty within the land, and even in winter she appears albeit as a dead horse, animated if only for one night to express mystery.
O white is the starlight, white on the gate and white on the bar of the door. Our breath is white in the frost, our fate falls in the dull wave’s roar. O rhyme with us now through the keyhole’s slit, and open the door if you fail. The sea-frost, brothers, has spurred our wit, ay, and the killing hail.
Whilst we may have lost the actual meaning of the Mari Lwyd tradition, to be near her is to sense the mystery that she expresses. There is an undeniable magic to her presence that seems to tease at long lost memories hid in the depths of our cultural memory. The folk traditions of Wales have embraced the Mari, for to be in her presence is to be lost in the magic of song and poetry. Battles of bardic wit take place between the Mari party and those who occupy the homes and taverns that she visits. Lose the battle and she gains entry into the warmth of company where chaos ensues. She reminds us of misrule that social norms are suspended and that within the joyousness of celebration there lurks a human desire to suppress the anxiety that winter instils.
Her jaws snap at the living, and yet laughter and music fills the air. But perhaps her snapping is indicative of a deeper mystery, where the Mari attempts to maintain her hold on the wheel of the year. Snapping at genitals could well be an attack on fertility, the threat that spring and its new life will not come and that winter and the Mari will rule forever!
Out in the night the nightmares ride; and the nightmares’ hooves draw near.
She is the Night Mare, the queen of winter, and at her altar we leave offerings of song, poetry, coins and beer in the hope that she will be appeased. But she is a hard mistress, the songs must be worthy of her admiration, the beer good and accompanied with perfect poetry. To lose is to face consumption into the jaws of the Goddess.
As the hooves draw near, and when the dreaded knock cracks on wooden doors a song must be prepared –
Wel dyma ni’n diwad (Well here we come)
Gy-feillion di-niwad (Innocent friends)
I ofyn am gennad (To ask leave)
I ofyn am gennad (To ask leave)
I ofyn am gennad i ganu (To ask leave to sing)
Mae Mari Lwyd yma, (Mari Lwyd is here)
A sêr a ribanau, (In stars and ribbons)
Yn werth I rhoi goleu, (Worthy of giving light)
Yn werth I rhoi goleu, (Worthy of giving light)
Yn werth I rhoi goley nos heno. (Worthy of giving light tonight)
Mae Mari Lwyd lawen, (Merry Mari Lwyd)
Yn dod yn y dafarn, (Is coming to your tavern)
I ofyn am arian, (To ask for money)
I ofyn am arian, (To ask for money)
I ofyn am arian a chwrw (To ask for money and beer)
Mari Lwyd, Lwyd Mari: A sacred thing through the night they carry.
A sure sign of the power within the sacred is when it easily transfers itself into the celebratory practises of secular communities. And this is happening here in Wales, ‘Trac’ the folk development organisation for Wales’, have created an information package and a flat pack Mari with full instructions on how to use her. Several Mari Troupes have arisen over the years and combine Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Year and Wassail traditions throughout Wales and the borders of England. The Mari is very much alive. Other groups perceive the sacred within this practise and that the Mari expresses more than a celebratory function, and that hid beneath her flowing white robes is the seat of mystery. To this group the Mari is an expression of the Goddess, the divine feminine principle. What both parties share is a common love of tradition and of making those traditions relevant to the 21st Century. The Goddess, the Mari cannot be silenced, she is more powerful than the wont of man to destroy her, and attempts have been made to silence her.
In the 19th Century a Baptist minister called William Roberts attempted to bring an end to what he perceived as a pagan practise. He authored a book called ‘Crefydd yr Oes Dywyll’ (Religion of the Dark Age), and in it gave a detailed account of the Mari and over 20 verses of the songs (Pwnco) associated with her. He hoped that this would enable his congregation to identify the Mari tradition and put a stop to it. It had the opposite effect. The Welsh seized the material and devoured it hungrily, the Mari was revived rather than suppressed. The poor man must be spinning in his grave!
Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Hark at the hands of the clock. O crouch and cringe by the bounding flame and close your eyelids fast. Out of the breath of the year we came. The breath of the year has passed. The wits of a skull are far too great being out of the hands of the clock. When Mari Lwyd knocks on the door, in charity answer that knock.
She is bridled with shadows and saddled with song, and now she has come knocking at your door. Will you heed that knocking? Will you help to bring back the Mare Queen of winter, to sing her songs of Bardic wit, to oblate her with offerings, to invite mystery into the warmth of good company? One of the most powerful reasons for reviving these old traditions is because they work. They do something to the internal constitution of a community, they allow expressions of music, song and poetry, they bring people together in a manner that may be too subtle to adequately articulate. They cause us to remember something of our deep past.
We cannot prove if the Mari is a direct link to the ancient Celtic past, or that she is a remnant of an actual pre-Christian tradition. But this does not matter, what matters is the manner in which we make her relevant to today. She brings another level of magic and wonder, awe and joy to the glorious celebrations at the heart of winter.
O white is the frost on the breath-bleared panes and the starlike fire within, and our Mari is white in her starry reins starved through flesh and skin. It is a skull we carry in the ribbons of a bride. Bones of the Nightfrost parry, bones of the Fire inside.
(Paragraphs in Italics taken from the ‘Ballad of the Mari Lwyd’, Vernon Watkins 1906 – 1967.)
Follow this link for a video history of the Mari Lwyd –
Now was the time for the whole raison d’être of the Dark Gathering – the meeting of the Welsh Mari Lwyds with Cornwall’s Penkevyll the Oss. This year we were going to try to introduce the Mari Lwyds into the proceedings in a different way – we were going to have a procession. However, there was one thing that we hadn’t factored in – that this year the clocks hadn’t gone back yet – so it was still light by 5 pm, the advertised time of the Lantern Procession. The Mari Lwyds traditionally don’t appear until at least dusk, and there was lots of debate about when to start the tribal drumming (the signal for the Procession to start) – and also when to light torches etc. You can just imagine the dialogue!
To add to the confusion there is no mobile signal in Boscastle so we couldn’t communicate with the processional group who were congregating in the car park the other end of the village – eventually we sent a runner and the Procession started.
What I didn’t realise until much later is how popular the procession turned out to be. It certainly attracted hordes of people who came out especially to see the Mari Lwyds and to join in the fun.
Here is some drone footage of the procession compiled by Dougie Latham and Paul Sumner:
Not only did we have music in the procession but at the Museum there was a troupe of drummers drawn from all sides and the general public, lead by Dave from Beltane Border Morris, who started a tribal rhythm. This was enough to entice Penkevyll from her temporary stable in the back of the Museum and she emerged to join her Teazers in raising the energy.
Laetitia as Teazer shot out of the Museum like a bat out of hell, whilst I followed at a more leisurely pace making sure I guided Penkevyll out safely to her waiting audience. At our emergence, a huge cheer went up and we began to dance up the energy. Laetitia was brilliant in her role as Teazer. She was really fired up and danced like one possessed – which is just what is required with this role in my opinion. By fortunate happenstance her transformation was captured on film, as can be seen here:
This sort of ‘overlooking’ of a person can also happen to the Oss Rider – in fact, it is encouraged. You allow the spirit of the role/Oss to ‘ride you’ but you have to be aware enough of where you are going and what you are doing at the same time. This can happen with other types of theatrical performance including dancing. Indeed I have personally witnessed this with some of the dancers from Beltane Border Morris as they fly around the space – every now and then they can shapeshift momentarily. It quite magical and intensely fascinating!
The role of Teazer is complex but in essence is to be a bridge betwixt the Oss and the crowd – to be able to travel and dance between those worlds. Just because I’m not as spry as I used to be doesn’t mean I can’t function in this way anymore. Sometimes moving very slowly can have just as much effect. I like having two Teazers. It makes sure that the needs of Penkevyll are being well attended to as well as dramatic energy raising dance being performed – and every now and then, the two forces meet – and there is a ‘frisson’.
After some frolicking around and general mischief-making with Penkevyll we caught sight of the torches of the Procession approaching and it was time for Penkevyll to meet her bone sisters who she hadn’t seen for nine long months!
It was a joyful reunion! The crowd marvelled at all the different Osses and Mari Lwyds and after the initial welcome, Penkevyll and Teazers disappeared into the Museum to make ready for the traditional pwnco ceremony which went with it’s usual idiosyncratic craziness. No matter how well we try and arrange this part, to date it has always been chaotic – ah well maybe next year…! 😉
Here’s the only bit of footage that I have found thus far of this year’s pwnco. Apologies to anyone of a nervous disposition as my singing is truly appalling and my Cornish not much better. Oh, and try ignore the very rude remark made by a member of the crowd at the beginning!
At last the Maris gained entrance to the Museum and they blessed it in their usual ways ending with the traditional libations of soul cakes and beer. On return to the outside world we found that we were just in time for the now iconic Fire Dance by Beltane Border Morris. This year I can share with you some unique drone footage compiled by those two IT wizards, Paul Sumner & Dougie Latham:
Although the small organising team work over the year to bring about the All Hallows Gathering, it seems to go so quickly on the day. There was just enough time left to mingle with the crowd and performers in the torchlight and savour the atmospheric and heady mix of exuberant, wild dancing and feeling the old ancestral spirits of Halloween draw ever closer.
Time to stable the Osses and Maris, and certainly time for all of our intrepid performers to make their way to the Welly (Wellington Hotel) where their well-deserved dinner was waiting for them along with foaming pints of ale – aka Party Time! 😀
Although we were treated to a high standard of singing again from many talented people including the Boscastle Buoys the local male voice choir; to me the stand-out song was from young Jake Sonny Rowlinson who sang a heartfelt rendition of ‘What’s the Use of Wings’. I’m fairly certain that there wasn’t a dry eye in the house…
At the Welly we had a great time and there were many things to be thankful for and to celebrate – but the main thing was that although there were a considerable amount of last minute obstacles and challenges, they were all successfully overcome.
Time for the accolades:
Many thanks and appreciation again to Angie Latham for all her hard work and commitment. Angie remains as our Morris co-ordinator and PR/Publicity person – take a bow Angie! 🙂
Another person who has tackled all sorts of queries and followed up ideas and suggestions on behalf of the All Hallows Gathering is Judith Hewitt, who is also the hard-working, seemingly tireless Manager of the Museum of Witchcraft & Magic. A huge thank you Judith for a job well done quietly and with grace. 🙂
Whilst mentioning the Museum we need to also thank Simon Costin for his continued support and enthusiasm for the event. Loved your costume on the night Simon! 😀
Our faithful MC, Steve Podger once again rose to the challenge and delivered an accomplished repertoire of information combined with tradition and folklore with great aplomb. Cheers Steve! 😀
With grateful thanks to our sponsors:
The Museum of Witchcraft & Magic
The Boscastle Chamber of Commerce
Finally a very special mention to the Hero of the Hour, Kevin Godley. This quiet, unassuming man truly saved the day when he stepped up to the challenge of taking on the role of Oss Rider of Penkevyll with no prior knowledge or experience of the role. He has supported the All Hallows Gathering from day one and was present at our very first attempt at a happening in 2014. When he heard that we had been let down at the last moment and that Penkevyll would be unable to appear without a Rider, he didn’t hesitate in volunteering. By doing so he averted what could have been a major upset, which would have made a nonsense of everything we had arranged with the Mari Lwyds.
On the day he performed to the best of his ability and really put his heart into riding Penkevyll – I was very touched by his reverence and respect in his dealings with the Oss. Afterwards he was so inspired by it that he wants to continue being one of Penkevyll’s Riders. So, although one rider fell by the wayside, we immediately acquired a new and enthusiastic new Rider – result! Congratulations Kevin – we are very proud of you! 😀
I’ll just leave this post here with one last jewel in the crown – an amazing video commissioned by us and edited by a very talented young man, called Kieran. It’s taken of the whole event and lasts almost an hour, so make yourself comfortable with your favourite tipple and enjoy the fruits of all our labours… Ladies & Gentlemen, I give you the All Hallows Gathering 2016!