Save Nine Ladies
About a third of The Dying of Delight is set at the protest camp by, and named after, the Nine Ladies.
The following article appeared in The Big Issue in the North magazine, in the issue for May 17th to 23rd, 2004.
Nine Ladies – A Haven in a Heartless World
Five years ago, I went for a walk in the Peak District. Actually it was more of a sulk than a walk, after a row with a friend. Whatever. After crossing a moor, I came across a woman sitting by a stone circle with a clipboard in her hand.
I thought about how pointlessly reluctant we are to make conversation with strangers, and then I walked over and said hello. That's when I found out about Nine Ladies.
It turned out that this quiet stone circle at the edge of Stanton Moor was at the centre of an emerging furore about plans to quarry the nearby hillside. Already some protestors had moved in and were living in the trees in an attempt to save them from the developers.
As a child, my family and I often used to visit Stanton Moor. It was one of my favourite places because of the climbing rocks and of course, the standing stones. It always made me think of Alan Garner’s Weirdstone of Brisingamen. Large hunks of sandstone peppered the landscape, with little hollows for hands and feet. The nine ladies themselves seemed to whisper quietly to themselves.
On that first visit, there was one thing about the protest camp that struck me in particular. A quiet calm lay over everything, and I knew I had found the ideal spot to hide. I needed somewhere a person might go to recover. A place where someone who was shell-shocked, traumatised, reeling from life, could go to lick her wounds and recuperate in peace. With the police not far behind and haunted by the dead body of a best friend, it would be the perfect place to hide.
Of course, when you’re writing a novel, it’s never far from your mind. I was pretty sure I had found somewhere for one of my characters to squirrel herself comfortably away.
It may seem strange to choose a protest camp as a safe place to hide. Being there effectively puts you on the wrong side of the law, for a start. Its occupants live under the constant threat of eviction, not to mention severe discomfort and potential ill health, being as they are at the mercy of the elements and the generosity of others when it comes to food and basic supplies. Many of the shelters are perched high up in trees, or over the sides of abandoned quarries, or even deep underground.
At first sight this is not a safe place to be. But my impression was one of security, and the people I spoke to bore this out. So how can a place of such apparent danger provide a refuge for so many, and feel so relaxed?
The woman I met at the edge of the moor was quietly earnest. She explained about the heavy machinery that would be required to quarry the hillside. She told me of the wide access roads that would churn up the forest floor and the dust that would coat all in its path.
Stancliffe Stone want to extract 3.2 million tons of rock from a 12.95 hectare site within 100m of the stone circle. The resultant scar will be 100m deep, and the quarry site will cover over 30 acres and have a massive impact on the hillside and moor. It will destroy thousands of trees, habitats for a diversity of wildlife and natural springs.
But this gentle woman also told me about the the other side of life here. The camaraderie that exists amongst the protestors, and how incredibly helpful and supportive the locals have been. The camp residents feel safe.
But what of outsiders? I couldn't stay away. I was intrigued, and revisited a week or two later, bearing gifts of food and beer. This time I went down into the forest, and saw the amazing "benders", tents suspended often in trees. I was welcomed with a simple acceptance. There was no question of how or why I might be there, just a happy assumption that all who visited belonged. This sense of community is hard enough to find, but what is even rarer is a community that will open its arms so easily to unknown newcomers.
I went back a couple of weeks ago. Four years after my original visits, the developers have finally secured eviction orders against the protestors. Things are about to seriously kick off.
But what did I find? Not fear or even very much sense of danger. I found relaxed happy people who are living the way they want to live and are prepared to defend their lifestyles, their politics and their trees in whatever way is necessary. And as for the danger… well, as one woman put it, "It's fun, isn't it?"
In fact, when I spoke to the people who live there, I realised that many people join protest camps precisely because they are looking for somewhere to escape the perceived dangers of life outside. They want to do their bit to stop the destruction of the environment and protect our natural heritage. But they’re also sick of living in corporate Britain, and on a protest camp they can do something to change the world at the same time as protecting themselves from many of its dangers.
Phil told me how he had only spent two or three of the last ten years indoors, and how he went "mental" when he did. Jen finds towns "scary", and Phil forgets to look both ways when crossing the road. He would far rather be cold outdoors by an open fire, than cold indoors with no money for heating.
These people have experienced the aggression and danger of poverty, of city life, of corporate power, and they've decided that this is a better place to be.
For so many people, the modern world is a threatening place. Every time you cross the street your life is at risk, from cars that, even if they don't add you to the astonishingly large numbers of people killed on the roads, will give you asthma and poison the air you breathe. People don't talk to each other for fear of muggers and psychopaths. Multinational corporations are everywhere you turn, and the damage they can cause is becoming increasingly apparent.But the protest site is a place where all of that can be kept at arm's length, and where community is key. Everything is shared, and people look out for one another.
Four years after my original visit, I know I was right to choose this location as my sanctuary for Edna, the character in my novel. She was traumatised. She needed a place to hide. This was the right place for her to be.
There is a bender suspended on a beautiful web of bright blue nylon rope, tens of feet above an old quarry floor. It looks impossible to reach. Hidden in all the greenery below is a complex network of tunnels, lock-ons and skywalks that the protestors estimate will cost millions of pounds to clear. Hopefully those sent to evict its occupants, when the time comes, will agree. This is an ancient forest, and my childhood is not the only history it guards.
At time of writing (June 2004), the protestors (who have been there for several years) are facing imminent eviction. They welcome visitors, particularly those who bring useful supplies. Visit www.nineladies.uklinux.net for more info.
Update, May '04:
Stancliffe Stone have an appeal going through the High Court to challenge the classification of the quarry as being dormant, as opposed to active. If classified as dormant, the quarrying will not be able to go ahead. But the decision will not affect the eviction orders against the protestors.
Update, June '04:
Stancliffe Stone have lost their appeal. The High Court have upheld the "dormant" classification, which means that they can't develop the site. This is definitely a victory, but as far as I know the decision still won't affect the eviction orders against the protestors.
Other useful links:
Evicting protestors will cost around 20 million
Protestors Appealing in the High Court
More on the High Court
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