The Hobgoblin of Hobthrush Hall

Yorkshire folklore tells of a cave in the scarrs above Over Silton on the edge of the North York Moors called Hobthrush Hall which was said to be the home of a local Hobgoblin. I checked the small scale Ordnance Survey maps around Over Silton but could find no indication of a cave, so all I had to go on was the following piece of local folklore:

"Over Silton. In the precipitous cliffs, a short distance north-west of the village, called 'the Scarrs,' is a cave in the rock, known by the name of Hobthrush Hall, which was formerly the abode of a goblin of somewhat remarkable character, who appears by the stories yet current relating to him, to have been possessed of great agility, as he was in the habit of jumping from the hills above his dwelling to the top of Carlhow Hill, about half a mile distant. He was not of the malignant kind. . . . On the contrary he was one of those friendly to man. . . . The Silton goblin was a true and faithful servant to a person named Weighall, who kept the village inn, and rented the land on which his hall was situate. It was Hob's invariable practice to churn the cream during the night, which was prepared for him the evening before, for which his reward was a large slice of bread and butter, always placed ready for him when the family retired to bed, and always gone in the morning. One night, the cream was put into the churn as usual, but no bread and butter placed beside it. Hob was so dis- gusted with this piece of base ingratitude, that he never came to churn more, and appears to have entirely left the neighbourhood. His dwelling yet remains, a rugged cave among the rocks, dark, wet, and uncomfortable, but extending a considerable distance underground."

Carlow Hill was just to the West of Over Silton and there appeared to be 'scarrs' or cliffs just to the north of the village, so that seemed like a good place to start looking.

Parking was incredibly difficult as the lanes around there were very narrow but I did manage to find a small layby just to the north of the village that was on the other side of some fields that sat above the scarrs. I didn't fancy climbing over the barbed wire fences and upsetting the local farmers so I opted to skirt around the fields and enter the woods to the north of the scarrs.

I plunged into the trees, heading down a slope, and soon found myself at the base of the cliffs at their northern end. It was then just a matter of tracing the edge of the cliffs southwards until I came across a cave! The cliffs stood at the top of a long steep slope but were clearly visible through the open woodland of spruce plantation.

I had no idea what the cave looked like though, how big it was, and even if it really existed! So imagine my surprise when I suddenly spotted two very obvious looking caves in the cliff face!

I scrambled up to the entrance and old graffiti carved all around confirmed that this must be a significant place. A place once often visited, but now forgotten.

I stepped through the small entrance and entered a much larger area inside. This was definitely the right place! Hobthrush Hall home of the Hob!

I searched around the inside of the cave and then followed a small passageway at the back which became smaller and smaller until only a hob could have fitted down it! Tantalisingly a tiny tunnel about a foot high seemed to lead deep into an underground realm but unfortunately I was too large to explore any further myself, so I left an offering there to the spirits and the hob.

But I wasn't done yet, as I crouched down in the tiny tunnel I noticed a cavity above my head which might just be large enough for me to squeeze my head and shoulders into if I stood upright. Slowly and gingerly I forced my head up into the tiny cavity, past spiders webs and cocoons until my head torch shone into the small cavity above. There were big shiny black spiders living in every crack and crevice in the rock, as well as other insects which were hibernating from the winter cold.

I didn't fancy poking around in there so I dropped back down into the tunnel and returned to the main cave. I had been feeling rather drained for days so I decided not to do any spiritual investigations today, the energies here seemed particularly heavy in any case. I had a slight headache and so I decided to content myself with my discoveries so far.

I left the cave and started heading back towards Over Silton through the woods. I hadn't got more than a hundred yards when I found my way blocked by a fallen oak tree which I had to duck under. For some reason I removed my wooly hat to do this and was astonished to see a large moth clinging to it! It was one of the largest and most beautiful moths I had ever seen, with a marbled pattern its back and long feathery feelers sprouting from its head.

I stared at it for a while and then tried to make it fly off by giving it a gentle nudge, but the moth clung firmly to my hat. I nudged it a couple more times but it just wouldn't budge. I was feeling tired but I knew he must have a message for me.

"Ok, what do you want?" I said with a sigh.

"Go back to Hobthrush Hall!" said the moth.

"No I'm tired, I'll go back later" I replied.

"Now!" he said.

"Sorry I'm feeling too tired", I said.

The moth's feathery antennae twitched and they both pointed in the direction of the cave. This was a message I just couldn't ignore! Resigned to my duty I decided to climb back through the undergrowth to the cave. I tried to get the moth to leave my hat by transferring him to the branch of a tree, but he held firm. I would have to hold my hat in my hand and take the moth with me!

I re-entered the cave, placed my hat at the far end by the small tunnel, planted my wand in the centre of the floor to draw in energy there and then sat down by the cave entrance to meditate. Soon after I sat down the moth flew up into the cavity and disappeared into the darkness! I took this as a sign to explore the cavity further which I'd been unwilling to explore earlier.

I returned to the small tunnel and noticed what looked like a hand print of white powder on the wall below the overhead cavity. I then climbed up and poked my head through the cavity, bolder this time and less afraid of all the spiders that lay hidden around I climbed up as high as I could and shone my torch into every little crevice.

This time I spotted curious formations in the rock, pieces of fossilised wood and strange 'egg stones' like the ones I had seen on Roulston Scar, except these ones still had their filling inside, a strange red clay-like material. I just couldn't imagine what these curious eggstones could be, they must be millions of years old!

My interest piqued I decided to explore more of the cracks and crevices in this cave to look for similar eggstones and indeed I did find more, just to the left of the cave entrance, while overhead I noticed what looked like a large fossilised beam of wood! Thoughts of ancient civilizations lost in mists of time came to mind, strange worlds millions of years old which today we can have no concept of.

I noticed that the end of this particular crevice was blocked by a couple of boulders, each almost a foot across. It almost seemed like they had been placed there deliberately and so I decided to remove them to see what lay behind. As I removed the last boulder I got a shock!

"Oh my God!" I said, because the boulders were hiding a tiny little doorway, only a couple of inches high! At that moment I knew I had found it at last, everything had been guiding me to this very place, the entrance to Hobthrush Hall!

The passageway was very narrow and even with my arm fully extended I could not reach the tiny doorway. As I shone my torch down and took photos of the doorway I felt a sudden rush of energy shoot out from it and was overcome with dizziness! I quickly fell back into the main cave before I passed out completely!

"I don't like all those lights!" shouted the hob from behind the tiny doorway.

"I'm sorry, I'll switch them off and I'll put the rocks back to hide your home again, I promise!"

I was nervous now, I had felt his power! So I replaced the rocks and left an offering of honey there for him.

"I thought you sent the moth to fetch me?" I said.

"I did, but I don't like all those lights!" He was a grumpy sod.

"Will others come?" he asked.

"Yes, but they'll treat you with respect, I promise!"

"Will they bring honey too?"

"Yes", I replied.

"Very well then", he said.

The hob was a powerful spirit. In the past he would have been treated with respect but nowadays so many of the hobs' haunts are overrun by tourists and so the hobs retreat underground, far from the eyes of mankind. This place was still relatively untouched and so the power of the hob was still strong. I hope that anyone who decides to visit this place will treat the hob with the respect he deserves and leave a small offering for him in the cave.

I picked up my things and left, but then I remembered that I had left my hat lying there. I popped back in to grab it and I heard the voice of the hob one last time.

"Thank you", he said simply.

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Rob Wildwood (Aurvandil) has now released a book containing hundreds of his own stunning full colour photos of many of the magical places he has visited in his travels. The images capture the magic and mystery of each place and are enhanced by extracts of local folklore that reveal the magical lore of each place and tempt deeper investigation. Every site listed has full directions and map grid references that can be checked online, so join Rob Wildwood as you discover Britain's magical places at www.themagicalplaces.com

Aberfoyle - Doon Hill and the Fairies

My next trip was to one of the most well known and magical fairy locations in the British Isles. Doon Hill in Aberfoyle, Scotland is where the Reverend Robert Kirk had many encounters with the Fae back in the 17th century. He wrote a book about his experiences entitled "The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies" which is now famous amongst fairy folklorists. But his obsession was to be his undoing, because one day he was abducted by the fairies and was never seen again. People say that there is an entrance to the Otherworld on Doon Hill through which the reverend passed and some say that he dwells up there still in the Land of the Fae.

Doon Hill lies just south of Aberfoyle on the other side of the River Forth on the edge of an area of extensive woodland. The hill itself is shrouded in forest giving it a mysterious appearance from the start.

I walked down the lane from Kirkton and approached the hill from the west. As soon as I entered the woodland at the base of the hill a magical atmosphere pervaded all. The trees looked spindly and twisted, and dewy moss shone bright and green on the boughs. 

Strange rock formations sprang up all around covered in gnarly trees, looking like little fairy mounds themselves. I spotted a forked tree on top of one these small mounds which looked invitingly like an entrance to the fairy realm, so I climbed up and stepped through it, dropping down into a magical land on the other side.

I had stepped through a portal and from now on the edge between reality and fantasy would be blurred for me and all the events that happened subsequently happened for me in a kind of half trance.

I continued walking through the open woodland towards the summit of the hill. It was quite visible ahead of me and stood tall and proud like a fortress. 

I could sense figures up there like soldiers standing on battlements and then I could see multi-coloured banners flying, I was surely approaching a fairy fort! I stopped and stared cautiously, and then I saw of couple of the elven soldiers descending from the fort to greet me, but they didn't look particularly friendly. They wanted me to relinquish all my weapons and amulets and then accompany them unarmed into the fortress, but fearing a trap I declined and they retreated.

Summoning my energy and will power I stepped forward but immediately I sensed missiles like arrows being fired at me. They struck me like bolts of light energy but seemed to bounce off harmlessly. Perhaps I was protected? I asked to be allowed entrance to the fortress but again they refused and launched more missiles, so I decided to back off under the onslaught and try a different approach.

I retreated out of range and left an offering of honey by a tree, and then covered myself in the pleasant scent of lavender oil to make myself more agreeable to the fairy folk. I headed northward, skirting around the western edge of the fortress and unexpectedly came upon another path! Instinctively I knew that I was now on the correct path to approach the fortress, the path just seemed more natural and had a gentler approach. Clearly I had been trying to enter the wrong way before! I followed this path until I stood at the foot of the fortress on the northern side.

I then gazed up at the battlements and this time a beautiful blonde elf-maiden came down to greet me. She took me by the hand and led me happily and eagerly up the slope, almost giggling to herself.

At the top of the hill lay a magical clearing where people had left all kinds of offerings both around and in the trees there. Everything from clootie rags to crystals to fairy statues to wind chimes, the clearing was full of the stuff! 

At the centre of the woodland clearing stood a lone tree, on the very spot where the reverend Robert Kirk disappeared into fairyland and was never seen again! 

I was guided by the elf maiden directly to this tree and I knelt down before it. 

Beneath the roots of the tree was a small hole like the entrance to a animal burrow that led deep underground, and beside this hole several offerings had been placed around, candles, statues and ribbons. I found a green glass half filled with rainwater and dirt and decided to clean it out and leave another offering of honey there for the fairies.

The maiden took me by the hand again and this time led me straight down into the hole. Now I felt like I really was entering the Otherworld! We went down and down and down through the darkness and then suddenly emerged into a grassy meadow by an old-fashioned farmhouse. The sun was shining and the elf maiden was still holding my hand, except she was no longer an elf maiden she was a little girl, and I was a little boy! She giggled playfully and memories came rolling back to me. I was in a past life! The little girl was my true love, we grew up together all our lives from being little children. I never knew this before, but it explained so much! It explained why she had meant so much to me and why her eventual loss was so unbearable, even after many lifetimes. She was my soulmate, happy, playful, mischievous and completely without malice, she meant everything to me. 

The scene passed and I was back with the elf maiden again, and now the tears were filling my eyes.

"Show me more," I said to her.

She led me once more down through the roots of the tree, this time down a pink spiral staircase like the inside of a giant conch shell, through pink-walled chambers and past a gruff ogre-like guard. We then emerged into a paradise world of lush greenery that was full of tame animals going about their daily business. Or at least they seemed tame because they were totally unafraid of us. The elf maiden and I had shrunk to a small size and were now flying through this world on butterfly wings. We flew through clouds of more multi-coloured butterflies, over the tree tops and then across vast plains teeming with wildlife. I had surely now entered the Otherworld realm of the Fae! A completely unspoilt land of beauty, perfection and unceasing natural harmony.

Ahead I could now see a castle, a fairy castle standing alone in the plain. We were heading directly towards it and I started to get fearful. I could sense dungeons within, darkness, dampness and solitude. I feared a trap, of being stuck in faeryland with no means of escape like Robert Kirk. I refused to continue and the elf maiden grew angry and ugly, she hissed at me! 

Suddenly I was back in my body, back in the clearing on top of Doon Hill. What was that castle? Was she showing me my fears or was it another scene from a past life?

I was standing facing the tree again with its entrance to the Otherworld, but when I turned around to face the clearing I had another vision.

I saw standing there a gathering of noble elf lords in long shining silvery silken robes. Their long straight silken hair hung down past their shoulders and they wore circlets upon their brows. They stood in a semi-circle around me and stared towards me with arms hanging by their sides, fingers interlocked before them, looking rather solemn.

"What have you brought us?" one of them said.

I remembered the green flourite eggs in my bag, so I took them out and started to lay them out on the ground before me in a the formation of a 12 pointed star.

"Too small!" said the elf lord.

I instinctively knew what he meant. The star should cover the entire clearing, with the otherworld tree at the centre. I looked around the clearing and could see that six trees formed a circle around it. These would be the six points of the outer star, and I would place the other six crystals slightly nearer the central tree to form the inner star.

So I walked around the clearing planting an egg just before the foot of each of the six trees. Curiously these six trees all had offerings placed around them and ribbons tied to them, just as much as the central tree had. I then placed the six inner crystals at a point midway between each of the outer crystals and returned to the central tree to see what would happen. 

The elf lords stepped forward, one of them standing over each of the crystals, there were 12 elf lords in total! I took out my wand and stood with one hand touching the central tree while my other hand held the wand aloft. I called in white light from the sky, that endless source of power and energy. The white light collected in the crystal at the tip of my wand and passed through me into the tree. It then spread out underground as if following the tree roots and emerged beneath each of the elf lords.

The elf lords started to glow a pale luminescent green which slowly increased in intensity becoming brighter and brighter until they were engulfed bright glowing columns of intense green light. These columns then became trees and at their tops they grew branches which started to spread out over the clearing, while underground the roots of the trees grew outwards, interconnecting with each other until the twelve trees were linked into one living network. This network spread outwards and outwards until it covered the entire land in a dense canopy of trees, a single, breathing, interconnected web. It was like a vision of the future, and the past, the land as it once was, and will one day be again, a land fit for the Fae to dwell in.

The vision slowly faded and I took a walk around the clearing but was soon disturbed by visitors, this time of the more mundane human kind! We exchanged a few stories and the guy told me that I should visit a famous Neolithic ritual landscape called Kilmartin. I hung around until they left and then decided that I should do the fairies a favour by clearing up some of the rubbish that had been left around and some of the less appealing items of junk that had been tied to the trees. I stuffed a whole carrier bag full of rubbish and just as I was about to give up for the day I turned around and there dangling right in front of my eyes was a blue teardrop-shaped crystal!

It was exactly like the one I had seen myself wearing in the vision I had on Lindsaylands Fairy Mound, the very first time I had seen myself as Aurvandil! The Fae had told me then that I should find myself one exactly like it and I had spent a whole day searching through one of the largest gemstone warehouses in the country but could find nothing to match it. Yet here it was, on Doon Hill, dangling right before my eyes! I knew instantly that this was a gift from the Fae and that I was meant to take it. So I snatched it up and pocketed it gratefully, giving thanks to the Fae for their gift.

Now I had surely done everything that I had come here for, so I decided it was time to head back down the hill. Before I lost sight of the clearing I stopped and turned around for one last look. The place looked magical in the late afternoon light. The outer trees seemed to glow with a green luminous light while the central tree stood there pale and grey. Movements flickered on the edge of my vision. I was sure that the Fae were hidden there in trees all around.

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Rob Wildwood (Aurvandil) has now released a book containing hundreds of his own stunning full colour photos of many of the magical places he has visited in his travels. The images capture the magic and mystery of each place and are enhanced by extracts of local folklore that reveal the magical lore of each place and tempt deeper investigation. Every site listed has full directions and map grid references that can be checked online, so join Rob Wildwood as you discover Britain's magical places at www.themagicalplaces.com

Obtrush Roque - The Hobgoblin's Cairn

Long ago a farmer in Farndale on the North York Moors was being much disturbed by a malicious hobgoblin or hobman. Not able to bear the malicious pranks of the hobman anymore the farmer eventually decided to quit his farm. He packed all his belongings into a cart and set off on his way, but before he got far one of his neighbours asked him where he was going.

"We're flitting!" the farmer said.

At which point the butter churn suddenly opened up and hobman's head popped out.

"Aye, we're flitting!" said the hobman!

Realising the hopelessness of his situation the despondant farmer returned home to his farm.

This short tale has parallels in other parts of the country and in Scandinavia too, but this particular hob, the Farndale hob, was associated with a myserious mound of stones up on the moors called Obtrush Rook, or the Hobgoblin's Cairn, which is made up of the remains of an ancient burial cist.

Intrigued by the story I decided to try and visit this almost completely forgotten location and see what power, if any, the place still held.

I drove to Farndale and parked in a narrow country lane by a nearby farm called Kneysbeck. The start of the climb followed a public footpath past an ancient spring that flowed into a stone trough. 

It then continued up the hillside through some woods before emerging into an old overgrown country lane that ran along the back of the cultivated valley.

Here I left the public footpath and followed the old lane for a while before it too became little more than a track, heading up the hillside onto the high moors. The trackway passed through hidden gulleys tucked away into the hillside and provided magnificent views over Farndale, now far below.

Using my compass and various landmarks I determined when the path had reached its nearest point to the fabled cairn and then set off on foot over the heather, leaving the trackway behind. It didn't take long struggling uphill before I could see the top of the ridge far ahead of me, and there, almost directly to my front, sat the cairn! There were some other piles of stones further over to the right, but I was sure from my calculations that I had the right place, and the closer I got the more certain I became, this structure stood alone near the very summit of the ridge.

As I got closer the stones took on a rather forbidding aspect, I did not feel invited or welcome, so I decided to start by walking around the stones sunwise. Not only could this be taken as a sign of respect but it also gave me chance to familiarise myself with the location. There seemed to be an outer circle of stones surrounding an inner pile, as well as one section on the outside that seemed to have been formed up into wall or shelter of some sort. 

As I'd read about previously, I noticed that many of the stones were cup-marked, but whether this was natural or carved by the ancient hand of man was hard to tell.

After processing around the stones three times I stood by what I took to be the entrance and asked permission to enter.

As I closed my eyes I could see a vision of the hobgoblin standing in the centre of the stone circle. He was larger than me and demonic-looking with an unfriendly aspect, he did not want to be disturbed!

As a further sign of respect I placed a scallop shell by the entrance to the mound and filled it with honey.

This got him more interested. He realised now that I wasn't just some hiker come to disturb him, I was here for a purpose!

"What do you bring?" he said.

I produced a large quartz crystal from my bag. He told me to leave all else behind and enter with my crystal, so I dropped my bag and stepped forward.

I was apprehensive and didn't really trust him, but he let me walk right into the centre of the cairn. I stood on the mound of rocks in the centre and placed my crystal there, down amongst the rocks.

As soon as I did so a huge and powerful column of white light shot down from the sky! It filled the cairn with its energy and caused the whole cairn to glow, before slowly issuing forth from the cairn in all directions down snakelike pathways down across the moors. I was filled with the light and energy and could see these glowing pathways all around, slithering away like white-hot molten glass in all directions, being carried far away across the moors.

In my mind's eye I followed these trails and saw them emerging as the light of sparkling stars in bubbling springs. Springs all over the moors were filled with this energy! The energy poured forth from the edges of the moors into the rivers to be carried by them across the plains. Lake Gormire too I saw sparkling with this new energy. The springs had been energised! A new magic was issuing from them to be carried far out across the land.

Finally the column of light subsided but now I too was transformed. I stood there as Aurvandil, the luminous wanderer, in white silken clothing with crystal pendants and silken hair of yellow gold. A fairy maiden appeared before me with a long flowing green dress and flowing hair of reddish blonde. Who was she? Was this Queen Mab my fairy guide? She told me that I had done well and that the first stage of my quest was now complete. She told me that I was on my way to receiving my prize and then she stroked me seductively.

I opened my eyes and the vision was gone. I am done here.

I returned to the bottom of the hill and passed by the spring again. I noticed now that the water in the spring was no longer flowing. Odd, I thought.

Back at my car I took out a pair of newly acquired dowsing rods and thought that I would give them a go as I'd never tried dowsing before. I walked back up to the woods and found a suitable clearing and stood there with the rods pointing directly forward.

The results astonished me! Whenever I asked for a positive response the rods crossed over strongly into an X as if guided by unseen hands. The nearest thing I can equate it to is a Ouija board where the glass seems to move itself. I tried dowsing for underground water and almost immediately found a vein of water, and then when I found an underground spring the rods crossed over violently.

"Was that the wind!" I said to myself.

The rods immediately swung outwards in a violent negative response! OK, now I was convinced... This was the nearest thing to magic I'd ever experienced.

I asked the rods if there was anything else to discover here, but the rods fell silent.

I later realised that the location I had discovered, the hobgoblin's cairn, was the omphalos, the very spiritual centre, or navel, of the North York Moors. By energising it's centre I had effectively energised the whole of the moors and carried that energy outwards and beyond, into all the land around.

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Rob Wildwood (Aurvandil) has now released a book containing hundreds of his own stunning full colour photos of many of the magical places he has visited in his travels. The images capture the magic and mystery of each place and are enhanced by extracts of local folklore that reveal the magical lore of each place and tempt deeper investigation. Every site listed has full directions and map grid references that can be checked online, so join Rob Wildwood as you discover Britain's magical places at www.themagicalplaces.com

Mulgrave Woods and Jeannie the Fairy

Folklore tells that Mulgrave Woods in North Yorkshire was the abode of Jeanie the Fairy. She was said to live there in a cave called Hob's Cave and to dislike visitors intensely. She would cast curses on anyone who bothered her and many a local misfortune was blamed upon the malevolence of this mysterious spirit. Long ago a brave and foolish local farmer decided to go and find this elusive fairy for himself, to purge the place of her misfortune once and for all. But as soon as he laid eyes upon her terrible visage his courage failed him and he leapt back on his horse and fled in terror. Jeanie chased him and he only escaped with his life when he remembered that the spirit could not cross running water, so he galloping for the nearest stream and leapt across it. As he did so Jeannie struck the horse with her wand and cut it in two but the farmer just managed to reach the safety of the other side before his horse fell down dead.

"A very mischievous fairy, Jeanie of Biggersdale, resided at a place so called at the head of Mulgrave woods. A bold young farmer, perhaps under the influence of John Barleycorn, undertook one night, on a wager, to approach the habitation of this sprite, and to call her : but his rashness nearly cost him his life ; Jeanie angrily replied that she was coming, and while he was escaping across the running stream he fared worse than Burns's Tarn O'Shanter, when pursued by Nanny the witch ; for Jeanie overtaking him just as his horse was half across, cut it in two parts though fortunately he was on the half that got beyond the stream !"

This snippet of folklore was all I had to go on, so I took out a map and located Mulgrave Woods. I was surprised to discover that the woods were still completely intact and covered an extensive area on a private estate, filling a whole valley which contained two streams with many side valleys and gulleys. The woodland extended almost all the way to the sea at Sandsend and reached inland for several miles, its many fingers following the stream beds and gulleys deep into the countryside. Exploring this area was going to be a daunting task!

Further investigation poined me towards one of the side gulleys with a high waterfall, famously known as Biggersdale Hole. Could this be it? The steep gulley leading down into the hole was called the Wizard's Glen and was reputed to be a magical place. Of course I just had to investigate!

I set off one morning in late January, crossing the North York Moors until I reached the seaside town of Sandsend, just north of Whitby. The weather was not great so I didn't fancy a long hike through the woods and instead opted to drive around the woodland to a farm located just above Biggersdale Hole. I parked my 4x4 in a field and soon found the stream that led me directly to the waterfall. The small trickling stream suddenly transformed into a torrent of water as it disappeared over a lip of rock and plunged into a hidden gorge deep below.

I gingerly crept around the edge of the gorge on tiny rabbit trails but could find no possible way down the sheer sides.

I sat there and meditated, I could sense an entrance at the base of waterfall, a hidden doorway to the otherworld, somehow I had to get down there! I was left with no option but to follow the top of the gorge and hope that the sides became less steep further downstream. I was able to walk through the field that adjoined the gulley, but unfortunately the sides of the gulley were sheer for its entire length and it was only when I reached the main valley directly ahead that I was able to scramble down and eventually made my way down to one of the main streams in the valley called East Row Beck.

Now all I had to do was follow the bank of East Row Beck until I came to the small stream that flowed out of Biggersdale Hole! The going was tough and sometimes I had to leave the flooded riverside and climb up the steep banks into the forest again, but eventually I made it to the entrance of a steep-sided valley. There was a clearing there with a little wooden footbridge crossing the steam, now all overgrown and little used. The hint of a pathway, long overgrown, led into the Wizard's Glen.

The day was overcast and misty and the glen seemed incredibly magical and mysterious. It may have been a trick of the light but as I stood there I kept catching movements out of the corner of my eye, as if hidden spirits were darting from tree to tree, watching me. Apart from the bubbling of the stream, dampened by the mist, the silence was total, and I was totally alone there, but the place was so magical that it lifted my spirits and drew me onwards into the glen.

The old pathway soon came to end, petering out by the tiny stream and disappearing into undergrowth and fallen branches. The magical feeling was now giving way to a more ominous one, so I decided I'd better tune in and ask permission to continue first. I was told to drop an offering of food into the stream, and also to place my new batch of flourite eggs in there too. I did as instructed and the food floated off downstream, while the eggs glittered under the surface of the water. The eggs would be infused with energy, I was told, but I must leave them there.

I now felt like I had been given permission to enter and so I pushed on through the bushes, waded through the stream and climbed over fallen branches.

The going got tougher and tougher the further I continued. Clearly no-one had been this way for a long time! I could sense the presence of Merlin above me, he seemed to be encouraging me to continue. Was this his glen? The Wizard's Glen?

Ahead of me whole trees had fallen down the gulley into the stream, it seemed impossible to go on. I wanted to turn back, to get out of this place, but the silent encouragement willed me forward. I climbed over the fallen trees, through thorn bushes and over wet slippery rocks and after an exhausting struggle finally I neared the end of the gulley and could hear the tumbling waterfall ahead!

The head of the gulley was rocky and barren, and the rocks slick with spray from the waterfall. It didn't look so deep as it had done from above though, but still there was no way out other than the way I had come in. Carefully I climbed over the wet rocks and sat down by the pool in front of the waterfall and got my breath back.

As I tuned in there I projected my spirit through the waterfall and through the wall of rock behind, and suddenly found myself standing on a green hillside. There I was met by a young troll with shaggy black hair. He seemed happy to have company and he danced and played with me, and eventually we tumbled off down the hillside, head over heels, until we stopped by the side of a bubbling stream. We sat there and talked like old friends. I asked him if the Wizard's Glen was Merlin's Glen. He told me it was not, but that Merlin was always with me when I needed to call on him. He also told me that I would not find Jeanie the Fairy here, I needed to look elsewhere in the woods.

I returned to the rocks by the waterfall. It seemed like my efforts had been in vain, but I was not despondant and was happy to have found such a magical place. As I looked down I then saw a red stone gleaming in the water, so I reached for it and picked it up. Merlin spoke to me and informed me that this stone would add fire to my wand. I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but I popped the stone in my pocket before starting on the arduous hike back out of the gulley.

I felt a lot more relaxed now and the sense of foreboding had completely gone. Only now could I truly appreciate the beauty of the place. As I walked slowly back, taking in the atmosphere, I suddenly noticed a white feather falling from the sky directly in front of me. I reached down and picked it up and then looking to my left noticed a row of small holes like rabbit holes that seemed to have been carved directly into the conglomerate that made up the sides of the gorge. I couldn't see how they could have formed naturally and the rock looked too hard to have been carved out by animals.

I sat down there and tuned in and soon realised that a colony of small boggles dwelt here, living halfway between our world and the otherworld, the shallow holes being just entrances to their subterranean otherworld. Slowly they crept out and as I had done in other places I planted my wand into the ground there and sent them healing. The boggles were happy here in the Wizard's Glen, they felt protected and needed no help from me, but they were not aware of the other communities of boggles that I had encountered. They could not leave the area of the glen and the nearby forest and so had never ventured out into the wider world. I told them that this would soon change, and sometime in the future they would be free to roam the world again.

After more scrambling and climbing I finally made it back to the walking trail where my flourite eggs still lay glistening in the water. I picked them up and they seemed to feel very fresh and energised. Holding them up to the light all the flaws and fractures in the crystals seemed to shimmer as if they had been coated in a tiny thin layer of gold leaf. I was sure they had looked nothing like this before! They were now ready for whatever purpose my guides had in store for them.

I now found a small path leading up the side of the gorge that I had not noticed before. The path was quite broad but was overgrown. Clearly it had once been constructed by human hands for some unknown purpose. I decided to follow it as I thought it might provide a shortcut back to my car. As I neared the top I took one last look back into the Wizard's Glen, half-expecting to see faery forms dancing through the air, but the glen was silent.

I pushed on through the rhododendrons and was startled to encounter what I at first thought to be a small holy well, but on closer inspection appeared to be some kind of small shrine. A fairy shrine? Out here in the middle of nowhere?

I left a small offering there and continued on. Following the path to a knoll just above the shrine I then found an old abandoned summer house hidden in the undergrowth. Was this the answer to the mystery? In times gone by the landowner must have built this summerhouse, and the shrine, with the path leading up to it from the valley. Some Victorian romantic fancy no doubt.

Then I made the strangest discovery of all! A dead cock pheasant lying suspended in a tree as if he had just recently tumbled down out of the sky. I inspected the pheasant closer and I could reach no other conclusion than that was what had actually happened. How strange! This was not the first nor the last time that I was to encounter dead birds that had seemingly fallen from the sky, but what was the meaning of it? That one would have to remain a mystery for now.

I continued down the path and was happy to find that I was soon heading back towards my car, it had been an amazing detour, full of discoveries, but I was still no closer to finding Jeanie the Fairy. I referred back to the folklore "a place so called at the head of Mulgrave woods". Perhaps I needed to try higher up the valley?

I checked the map and saw that there was an old motte buried in the woods near the head of the valley called Fosse Castle, which I remembered had some old folklore associated with it. The motte was abandoned in the 13th century when the newer medieval castle was built right in the heart of the valley.

I took a long drive around to the other side of the valley and parked near High Lees Farm. I then followed a vert wet boggy footpath back down into the valley until I came upon a tree-covered mound near the valley bottom, the old motte of Foss Castle. I stepped up onto the flat-topped motte and paced around it's upper rim wondering how I was going going to find Hob's Cave. Beneath me the valley tumbled down into a rocky gorge where a stream cascaded over a jumble of dark and damp looking rocks. Any number of dark shadows under the rocks could have been the entrance to a cave, but how was I to explore such difficult terrain?

I decided to scramble down to the gorge in any case, just to see what I could find, and was relieved to discover an old partly-overgrown path down near the bottom. Turning right I followed the path upstream towards the head of the gorge, but the path petered out and I soon found myself scrambling over rocks and climbing up the side of small cascades. The rocks were slippery and at one point my foot slipped into pool, soaking it.

Eventually I came to a point where I could go no further, the rocks were just too slippery and steep, but the place looked absolutely magical! Bright green moss coated all the rocks and a large hollowed-out basin lay to the left that must have been carved out by swirling rocks over many thousands of years.

Gazing around I suddenly noticed that to my right was the remains of an old building! So weathered and overgrown with ivy that at first glance it looked like part of the rock face.

I sat down there in this enchanted spot by the stream and called upon Jeanie to show herself to me if indeed she dwelt here.

I waited a short while, tuning in to the energies of the place, and then I saw a woman appear! A strikingly attractive, powerful woman with flame-red hair that seemed to sweep up into the air like it was actually composed of flames. She did not appreciate being disturbed but when I explained to her my purpose she assented and agreed to show me the way to her cave dwelling. She took me by the hand and floated off to the north east, but unfortunately I could not keep up with her, and my way was blocked by the steep sides of the gully. I tried several times to scramble up but each time was defeated. By now it was starting to get dark, so with regret I had to abandon my quest for that day.

I later picked up an old Victorian novel called "Jeannie o' Biggerdale" which was set in a mill house by the stream in Mulgrave woods. I realised with a start that the old building I had discovered was indeed the mill house mentioned in the book! And the gully that I had been sitting in was where the woman in the tale had committed suicide by casting herself down onto the rocks because she was unable to be with her love, all caused by the curse of Jeanie the Fairy. After reading about the genteel lifestyle of those dwelling in the manor house and how they would take walks in the grounds of the forest it also explained to me the mysterious paths I'd discovered and the old summerhouse. How odd that the place was now so abandoned and reverting back to it's more ancient and natural state. Perhaps Jeanie still jealously guarded her realm and put paid to any plans to develop the place by casting one of her renowned and much feared curses!

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Rob Wildwood (Aurvandil) has now released a book containing hundreds of his own stunning full colour photos of many of the magical places he has visited in his travels. The images capture the magic and mystery of each place and are enhanced by extracts of local folklore that reveal the magical lore of each place and tempt deeper investigation. Every site listed has full directions and map grid references that can be checked online, so join Rob Wildwood as you discover Britain's magical places at www.themagicalplaces.com