Only just come across this. I was there, with 151st Brmingham (Saltley Methodist) scouts. We (I say "we" - I was just a young nipper and our elder statesmen did the work!) found a farmer in Little Hay, near Sutton, who begrudgingly agreed to let us camp on his land for the week (he'd had a bad experience in the past with scouts, apparently), and we travelled into Sutton & back to attend the celebrations. It led to a long relationship with that farmer, who was so impressed with us that he insisted we could come back any time and he'd find us a field to camp in. That association lasted beyond his lifetime and continued when his son took over the farm, until sadly it disappeared under redevelopment.
My lasting memory is that it was VERY wet!! I recall being woken in the middle of the night and marched down the middle of the road in torrential rain to a house whose owners had taken pity on us and insisted we spent the rest of the night under their roof; another relationship that lasted many, many years.