A hill that is still a mystery

Because it rises to more than 1,100ft (c330m), it is locally known as a mountain and indeed, many refer to it simply as Elbolton, not using the words hill, mountain, fell or moor.

I came across it some years ago when I was researching a book featuring the folk stories of the Yorkshire Dales. The nearby village of Thorpe, sometimes known as Thorpe cum Montem or Thorpe in the Hollow, features strongly in the folklore of that part of Wharfedale. The village was once the home of many cobblers, most of whom earned a good living from their work for nearby abbeys and priories.

The fame of the cobblers, and the quality of their work, led to many customers making pilgrimages to the area simply to obtain new footwear or to have their existing ones repaired.

The workmanship of the Thorpe cobblers was renowned throughout England but the reason for so many of them in such a small and remote village has never been explained.

Thorpe is also the focus of a maypole mystery. The village did not have a maypole of its own and then, in 1804, the splendid example at nearby Burnsall was stolen and suspicion fell upon the cobblers of Thorpe. They had suddenly and mysteriously acquired a maypole that looked remarkably similar to the missing one but none would admit to the crime. There followed a mighty battle between villagers from the two communities, as a result of which the maypole was, rightly or wrongly, restored to Burnsall.

But this was not the end of the story. In 1991, Burnsall’s superb maypole once more disappeared overnight, but one with remarkable similarities appeared in Thorpe. It had been cemented into its base and there were rumours of late-night cement -mixing in Thorpe, but no-one would admit to the crime.

However, Elbolton, which towers above Thorpe, is also the centre of a great mystery.

It is one of several conicalshaped hills that surround Thorpe, the others being Kail Hill, Stebden Hill, Butter Haw Hill, Carden Hill and Skeltertone Hill. Together, they add a certain mystique to the locality but it is the folklore that surrounds Elbolton that is most intriguing.

One theory is that its name is derived from elves, the word meaning the hill of the elves, and they were thought to live in a cave on the slopes. There is a folk story about a man from Burnsall surprising a band of fairies dancing in the moonlight as he walked home via Elbolton.

He described them as being as light as feathers, all dressed in green with transparent wings, and they danced on the footpath ahead of him, unaware of his presence. Each fairy took a turn in dancing and singing in front of the others and the witness became so fascinated by their activities that he forgot he was a mere bystander.

He tried to join, in whereupon they were utterly afraid of him and pelted him with stones.

He did his best to explain he had no wish to harm them but, aware that his experience would not be believed, he was determined to prove the truth to his family. He managed to catch one of the fairies and place it in his coat pocket, but it escaped before he reached home. Thus he was never able to prove his story.

The greatest mystery of Elbolton involves the cave on its eastern slopes. Once thought to be the haunt of the fairies, it was sometimes known as Navvy Noddle Hole.

It is known that centuries ago, primitive people lived in the cave, but it wasn’t scientifically excavated until 1888. Then an astonishing discovery was made. Seated around the remains of a long-dead fire were the skeletons of 12 men surrounded by the bones of several species of animal that had become extinct. The animals were said to be tens of thousands of years old; I have no record of their identities or breeds, while the human skeletons were assessed at a mere 2,000 years old.

While the cave must have been the home of animals over countless centuries as the dead ones were replaced by their offspring, the death of those men, all at the same time and probably from the same cause, remains a mystery.

Why would 12 men suddenly die in that cave, all at the same time while sitting around a fire? The puzzle has never been solved.

Candlemas Day

NEXT Wednesday, February 2, is Candlemas Day, once the most important date in the rural calendar. Its chief reputation lies in the fact that it is the half-way stage of winter, lying midway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Country people try to ignore suggestions that spring is on the way, even though snowdrops may appear around this time along with other signs of new growth.

Many farmers and landowners would endeavour to have at least half their winter stocks of animal fodder and bedding left in store at this stage of winter, knowing that severe weather can still materialise.

We must wonder whether councils should try to have half their stocks of road salt left at this stage of the year.

Most of us know the old adage about this date – If Candlemas be dull with rain, winter will not come again, but if Candlemas be fair and bright, winter will have another flight. This is perhaps the best known of our many piece of weather lore, even if the words do differ slightly from place to place.

One cheerful aspect of this period is that the nights are getting noticeably lighter. In former times, therefore, Candlemas was the time to put away the candles and candlesticks until next winter, although household fires were kept burning for heat and food preparation.

However, there was a good deal of religious symbolism at this time. The day is known within the Catholic Church as the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary, later being termed the Presentation of Christ, when a special mass was celebrated with lighted candles. Churches would be adorned with snowdrops, known as the purification flower, and all the candles gathered for use in the church during the coming year were also blessed.

The time was rich in symbolism with the candles meaning that Christ is the light of the world. Nowadays, we know Candlemas more because of its association with our weather, while we use candles for decorative purposes rather than their religious links.

A cockstride

ON THE topic of lighter nights, there is a saying around this time that the nights are lengthening by a cockstride.

None of my conventional dictionaries provide a definition for this word, although it does appear in some Lancashire dialect songs and ballads where it is supposed to mean a short distance. One of those songs is Nobbut a Cockstride by Mary Kershaw.

However, its association with lengthening days does have links with the dialect of the North Riding. Cocklight (pronounced cockleet) means dawn; some old farmers would be out of bed at cocklight to complete their day’s work. Cockshut, on the other hand, was twilight, the close of the day, but in some areas of the North York Moors, it was applied to very dark hollows in the landscape.

There was one near Kilton Castle that is now shown on the map as Cockshots, and another near Captain Cook’s monument above Little Ayton. It seems the Ordnance Survey mapmakers changed these names to Cockshot.

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