A Traditional Tale of Halloween Horror: Lighting the Witches Upon Pendle Hill

Author's note: The following folktale was found in a book called “Goblin Tales from Lancashire” by James Bowker under the simple title “Allhallow's Night."  The book is undated but appears to have been published around the turn of the 19th century.
            This is my own re-telling, though in trying to remain true to the feel of original I have kept some of the wording close to the original, while altering other areas in order to flow more fluidly to a modern reader. And I have taken only slight artistic liberties, such as giving the farmer's wife a name rather than referring to her as “the wife” throughout.
           I would also like to point out that the tone used to discuss witches is in keeping with the original "horror story," and it in no way reflects my personal view of witchcraft (I am a practicing Heathen, myself).

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Lighting the Witches upon Pendle Hill

The massive and majestic structure called Pendle Hill adds a mysterious charm to the beautiful landscape surrounding it. Covered with the green furnishings of moss and fern, the hill brings a sense of the fanciful to onlookers for miles around. 

A farm house with Pendle Hill in the distance. Photo by Alexander P Kapp, Wikimedia Commons.

​But, most today do not realize that Pendle Hill was once the meeting place of witches who met upon its flat summit to perform their wicked acts of devilry.

The antics of some of these witches were recorded during the witch trial era and remembered as the famous Pendle Witches. Their devious trickery was so disruptive that the area was said to have become quite unsafe for the local residents.

One such resident was a farmer called Ralph who lived with his family in a small cottage not too far from Pendle Hill. With the farmer and his wife, Molly, lived their faithful servant, Isaac, who had been with the family for many years. 

A peasant family on their homestead, by Abraham Willemsens

The household was quite illiterate, which was common at that time. Living in such a rural area with up to a mile between each household, and not having their imaginations crushed by schooling, such as is the sad case we see today, the family believed wholeheartedly in the legends of boggies and hellish specters that were told in the area, even though they had not had any personal experiences with the supernatural themselves. But, that was soon to change.

​On a dark and gloomy evening the wind began to howl in a wickedly ominous way. Before long it seemed that a tempest was brewing as the windows and doors rattled in their frames. The wind moaned and shrieked as huge raindrops smashed against the little diamond shaped window frames.

Painting by Thomas Cole (1801-1848)

​Upon the morrow, three of the farmer's cattle were found lying dead in the cowshed. Not a few days after, two of the farmer's children fell ill. As the edge of darkness crept up the side of Pendle Hill that evening, one of the children succumbed to death.

​If these misfortunes were not bad enough, the farmer's crops also succumbed to a pestilence, thereby endangering the welfare of the entire household.

At this point, and with great reluctance, the Farmer Ralph had no recourse but to believe that he had somehow offended some wrathful spirit who was enacting revenge upon his household.

​Though, he did take precautions against these things with the charms and amulets in common use amongst the peasantry.

​But, the horseshoe over his door, the branches of ash placed above the cowshed entryway, and the hag stones hanging above his own and his children's beds were apparently no match for whatever powerful magic was afflicting his homestead.

A typical European peasant family, by Adriaen van Ostade.

The farmer's household held a family council to discuss why they found themselves so vulnerable to these attacks and what could be done to remedy the situation.

The mood around the table was morose, for even their rough old farmhand, Isaac, greatly missed the prattle of the little one whose sudden passing had cast a shadow over the home.

​The farmer and his wife lamented the loss of their child and held great trepidation for who in the household might befall the same fate.

​Knocking the ashes from his pipe, Farmer Ralph spoke up “Well, Isaac. You may as well take horseshoe and ash branches down for all the good use they seem to be.” 

His sadness had turned to frustration as he banged his down-turned pipe on the table to knock out the remaining cinders. “We've naught been able to keep the feeorin away from us, and I expect only more bad luck clear to November!” the farmer exclaimed.
 
            “Why do you say November, Ralph” asked his wife, Molly, in a terrified voice. She anxiously gazed out the little cottage window where she could see Pendle Hill looming dimly in the distance.
 
            “Because, my lass, on O'Hallow night I intend to climb Pendle Hill to light the witches,” Ralph said this with all seriousness, setting his jaw firmly.
                                                                                                   
                “Heaven save us all!” cried his wife.

Mist over Pendle Hill. Photo by Peter Barr, Wikimedia Commons

The three sat in silence for several moments. Finally the quiet was broken by old Isaac who said, “whither the master goes, so Isaac goes with him. There will be two of us, at any rate.”
           
            The farmer gratefully accepted Isaac's offer, though Molly tried in vain to make them both abandon their plan. For, it was well known that others in the region had lighted the witches and thereby secured a twelvemonth's immunity from harm. So, why should they not do likewise? If his fortunes did not turn around, Ralph and his entire household were staring ruin in the face. Therefore his determination to light his unseen enemies grew stronger with each passing day.

Ralph and his household carried on with their daily chores until the last day of October finally arrived. 

​All Hallow's Eve brought with it a weird and misty rain which quite obscured the spooky hill. But, by nightfall the rain had ceased and the huge silhouette of Pendle Hill was again visible.

​All day long Ralph and Isaac tried their best not to think about what awaited them that evening. 

​But, finally the hour arrived when they had to begin their trudge up the haunted hill to find the dreaded ruins where witches from parts all around gathered in their their mysterious and infernal conclave. Now that the sadness from their recent losses had somewhat abated, the two men were overcome by terror of what they were face when they reached Malkin Tower at the hill's summit.

When the old grandfather clock chimed ten, the men rose and prepared for the lighting. Each man grasped a branch of mountain ash, to which they tied several sprigs of bay as a double protection against both lightening and any fiendish stray spirits who might be lurking about. In their other hand, they each carried an unlit candle.

​The tearful goodwife, Molly, cried a blessing upon each one, and the old farm dog crept over from the corner of the farmyard to take his place beside the men. Together, the party headed toward Pendle Hill.

Pendle Hill, in Lancashire, England. Photo by Dr Greg on Wikimedia Commons

The men marched on bravely, stopping only to light their candles with flint, steel, and a box of tinder as they reached the foot of the slope. Presently, with only a few raindrops fallen, the wind died completely casting an ominous ambiance over the place.

​As though it, too, were terrified, the old dog uttered a low whine and crept ever closer to his master. Feeling that a storm would soon be upon them, the three began to climb, heading toward the well-known ravine beside the place the witches would gather.

Illustration by Leo H. Grindon, 1882

          “We'll have a storm, I reckon, Isaac,” said the farmer.
           
            “I'm a'thinkin' myself we'll have nothing less,” the old man replied dryly as he began his climb candle in hand, with his master and the farm dog following just behind.

Illustration by Rosina Emmet, circa 1900.

 When they had nearly reached the top of the ravine, a flash of lightening suddenly pierced the darkness and a peal of thunder seemed to shake the earth beneath them!

​A weird and unearthly shriek of laughter rang in their ears as a figure shrouded in black flew slowly past them, so close it's garments nearly brushed their faces.

​This was too much for the old farm dog who turned his tale and fled down the hillside, howling in terror as he went.

But the men, undaunted, marched on. Each one carefully shading his candle with the hand which held tight to the branch of ash.

At one point, old Isaac stumbled and nearly fell. Frantically Farmer Ralph hollered “do not let the candle go out!”

Thankfully, both men made it within sight of the tower without mishap, each with their lighted candles in hand.

​And, they arrived not a moment too soon for the infernal revelry had already commenced within.

While light streamed from the tower windows, shrieks of maniacal laughter could be heard even over the roar of the thunder which had begun to pick up.

Every now and again a dark figure floated over their heads and whirled into one of the windows, and the noise became all the louder by the addition of yet another shrill voice. 

Both men eager to get away from the place as quickly as possible readily turned their backs to the tower to start back for the homestead. ​

Witches flying over the Earth, Morris Meredith Williams, 1910

But no sooner had they turned away when a Satanic face with gleaming red eyes flashed before them and then vanished! Instantly both of their candles went out.

“God's blessing help us now!” both men cried in unison. Before they had even finished their sentence the tower was plunged into total darkness.

The shrieks of unholy laughter were suddenly quiet, and the only sound to be heard was the rapid flight of the hags and their familiars. The men's cry had broken up their gathering.

​More frightened than ever by loss of their lights, the men clung tenaciously to their branches as they hurried away. 

Illustration by HJ Ford

They had not gone far in the direction they guessed the farm lay when Farmer Ralph, who was just a little ahead of Isaac, let out a cry. He had slipped and fell, vanishing from Isaac's view, falling down the cliff which Isaac was now standing on the edge of.

Isaac trembled as he peered down into the blackness looking for Ralph. But not one sound came up to tell the old man that his master had escaped with his life, despite the shouts that Isaac sent down after him. 

Desperately Isaac called for his master, but eventually he turned away thinking the worst must have happened. His goal now was to reach the farm and return with assistance.

​However, after wande ring for some time in the raging storm which nearly blinded him by the lightening, the weary old fellow pulled himself under a large stone for shelter to wait out the rain. Quite exhausted from the climb in the wet cold, not to mention the fright, old Isaac quickly fell asleep.

Illustration by H. R. Millar, circa 1900

As soon as the first faint rays of sunlight kissed the hillside than Isaac was awoken by the old farm dog licking his face! 

Isaac opened his eyes and gazed about in sleepy astonishment as some men appeared climbing the hill in pursuit of the dog.

Poor Molly had been quite terrified when the howling dog appeared at the door alone whilst the “lighters” failed to show. So, she made her way to the nearest farm house and woke up the neighbors.

​No sooner had she shared the story than a party of sturdy fellows had assembled to search for the missing men. 

Isaac explained where he had last seen Ralph, and soon after the rescuers found him as well, down the gorge nursing a broken leg.

Goodwife Molly let out such great rejoicings when the cavalcade finally returned to the farm. As bad as matters were, she had expected a much worse ending.

​Afterwards, the homestead experienced great prosperity and the household was blessed far beyond that which they had ever dreamed.

Every now and again Molly would say to Ralph, “you might have kept those candles to light your own home. For it wasn't even midnight before the Devil blew them out!” A joke that invariably caused both Farmer Ralph and old Isaac to break into a smile that bordered on a grimace.

​But, the homestead was happy and prosperous evermore, including the farm dog and his wife.

The farm dog and HIS wife. Illustration by Morrish Meredith Williams, 1910

​The original story includes a bit of Lancashire dialect, and those who would like to read it and other spooky Lancashire folktales can download the book for free from Project Gutenberg.

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My name is Carolyn Emerick, and I write on the history, myth, and folklore of Northwestern Europe. 

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