spot alone, each time finding his guinea reward as promised. But clearly this secret knowledge was too great for him to bear alone and eventually he invited a friend to accompany him to the top of the Howe. Following this, not only did the gift of guineas cease, but ‘he met with a severe punishment from the fairies for his presumption’. Sadly, Hone does not record the exact nature of the retribution meted out.
Some idea of fairy justice can be ascertained from other stories, however. For instance, an Eskdale farmer got more than he bargained for when he accepted a wager to enter Mulgrave Woods late one night and call out Jeanie of Biggersdale, an infamously ill-tempered fairy who lived at the head of that dell. Emboldened by alcohol, the farmer approached her dwelling and called her name; unfortunately for him, Jeanie was at home and at once replied that she was coming, her voice ripe with fury. The farmer turned heel and fled, with the irate fairy in hot pursuit. He managed to escape by crossing the running stream – a boundary which no denizen of the Otherworld can traverse – but Jeanie was so nearly upon him that she managed to snatch at the rear half of his horse before the animal was fully across and her supernatural touch severed the animal in two.
Others only happened to provoke the fairies’ wrath by accident or momentary indiscretion. Those who had the misfortune to stumble upon the nocturnal fairy revels at Gilstead Crag, for example, would immediately be deprived of their sight. Similarly, when a native of Threshfield in Wharfedale was staggering home drunk one night, his route took him by Elbolton Hill – a notorious haunt of the fairy folk. Sure enough, their festivities were in full swing and the inebriate’s sense proved so befuddled that he unwisely attempted to accompany them with a song. Instantly, the party rounded on the interloper, tormenting him with pinches and kicks until he finally managed to escape. In the melee, however, he succeeded in pocketing one of the tiny beings, and thought to present it to his daughters as a living doll. But when he arrived home, not a trace of the fairy was to be found.
Elbolton’s association with fairies was very strong in Wharfedale folklore and this is hardly surprising as the hill possesses at least three features which are frequently identified as marks of fairy habitation. Elbolton is one of the Cracoe Reef Knolls, distinctively shaped hills formed from the remnants of a prehistoric coral reef many millions of years ago. As such, its profile is classically dome-shaped and whilst it is not particularly high at little more than 1,000 feet, it is topographically prominent. Hills of this nature are often identified with fairies; for instance, Schiehallion in Perthshire, otherwise known as the Fairy Hill of the Caledonians; or Doon Hill in Stirlingshire, which was identified as a fairy haunt by Reverend Robert Kirk in his famous tome of 1691, The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies .
Elbolton’s unique limestone geology also means that it is riddled with potholes and the fairies’ connection with subterranean, chthonic spaces is also firmly established. Similar examples in Yorkshire include the Fairy Parlour, a natural fissure which leads some hundred yards into the famed millstone grit outcrop of Almscliffe Crag. It is said that when some brave cavers attempted to explore this passage sometime in the nineteenth century, they were forced to retreat by the sound of the belligerent fairies rattling their shovels and pokers within. Several miles away in Lady Wood near Collingham, there was also a cave called the Fairy Hole from which locals claimed the sound of fairy revels could often be heard.
Elbolton Hill in Wharfedale, notorious haunt of the fairies. (Kai Roberts)
However, Elbolton’s most significant association is with the remains of our prehistoric ancestors. During excavation of an Elbolton cave known as Navvy Noddle Hole in 1888,
Some idea of fairy justice can be ascertained from other stories, however. For instance, an Eskdale farmer got more than he bargained for when he accepted a wager to enter Mulgrave Woods late one night and call out Jeanie of Biggersdale, an infamously ill-tempered fairy who lived at the head of that dell. Emboldened by alcohol, the farmer approached her dwelling and called her name; unfortunately for him, Jeanie was at home and at once replied that she was coming, her voice ripe with fury. The farmer turned heel and fled, with the irate fairy in hot pursuit. He managed to escape by crossing the running stream – a boundary which no denizen of the Otherworld can traverse – but Jeanie was so nearly upon him that she managed to snatch at the rear half of his horse before the animal was fully across and her supernatural touch severed the animal in two.
Others only happened to provoke the fairies’ wrath by accident or momentary indiscretion. Those who had the misfortune to stumble upon the nocturnal fairy revels at Gilstead Crag, for example, would immediately be deprived of their sight. Similarly, when a native of Threshfield in Wharfedale was staggering home drunk one night, his route took him by Elbolton Hill – a notorious haunt of the fairy folk. Sure enough, their festivities were in full swing and the inebriate’s sense proved so befuddled that he unwisely attempted to accompany them with a song. Instantly, the party rounded on the interloper, tormenting him with pinches and kicks until he finally managed to escape. In the melee, however, he succeeded in pocketing one of the tiny beings, and thought to present it to his daughters as a living doll. But when he arrived home, not a trace of the fairy was to be found.
Elbolton’s association with fairies was very strong in Wharfedale folklore and this is hardly surprising as the hill possesses at least three features which are frequently identified as marks of fairy habitation. Elbolton is one of the Cracoe Reef Knolls, distinctively shaped hills formed from the remnants of a prehistoric coral reef many millions of years ago. As such, its profile is classically dome-shaped and whilst it is not particularly high at little more than 1,000 feet, it is topographically prominent. Hills of this nature are often identified with fairies; for instance, Schiehallion in Perthshire, otherwise known as the Fairy Hill of the Caledonians; or Doon Hill in Stirlingshire, which was identified as a fairy haunt by Reverend Robert Kirk in his famous tome of 1691, The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies .
Elbolton’s unique limestone geology also means that it is riddled with potholes and the fairies’ connection with subterranean, chthonic spaces is also firmly established. Similar examples in Yorkshire include the Fairy Parlour, a natural fissure which leads some hundred yards into the famed millstone grit outcrop of Almscliffe Crag. It is said that when some brave cavers attempted to explore this passage sometime in the nineteenth century, they were forced to retreat by the sound of the belligerent fairies rattling their shovels and pokers within. Several miles away in Lady Wood near Collingham, there was also a cave called the Fairy Hole from which locals claimed the sound of fairy revels could often be heard.
Elbolton Hill in Wharfedale, notorious haunt of the fairies. (Kai Roberts)
However, Elbolton’s most significant association is with the remains of our prehistoric ancestors. During excavation of an Elbolton cave known as Navvy Noddle Hole in 1888,
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