Free Herald of the Hidden by Mark Valentine Page B

Hillview Avenue overnight and, when the elderly occupant was sufficiently restored, Ralph recounted to him a little of the background to the events he had witnessed. He also obtained, without much difficulty, a certain undertaking concerning the Hill; and then we left, each to our own home.
    Later that Sunday I returned to Ralph Tyler’s flat. I was still quite tired from the alarming experiences on the Hill, yet I felt a desire to hear from my friend his reasoned exposition of the matter. I found that he was bitterly self-critical.
    ‘I was completely deluded by the glowberry theory. It seemed to suit the case so well. And Bentley himself, with his evident desire to find an explanation from other than the paranormal, influenced my judgement. But, on the other hand, it was a remark of his which made me think again. Madberry Hill as a place name derived from the vision-inducing glowberry seemed far too straightforward. Place names are rarely so readily identifiable, if only because they tend to alter over the centuries. So, yesterday afternoon, I pottered about in the local studies collection at the library. I wanted to find the earliest reference to the Hill, and get to the root of its name. The definitive county survey records that in 1526 it was “Maydenberweye” . . .’ Ralph spelt out the archaic title.
    ‘Before then, though there is no archival evidence, it is likely that the name was even closer to what was the original sense—Maiden Bower, derived from the Old English “burh” meaning “fort”. There are a scattering of earthworks and hill settlements with this name and, until recently, its precise significance was uncertain. But a folklorist called Jeffrey Hurt recently published his findings about traditions associated with the localities of “Maiden Bower” or “Maiden Castle” sites, and I remembered seeing his article in last year’s Journal of the Northern Oral History Group . Here is a pertinent passage. . . .’
    Ralph opened a booklet and read;
    ‘ “The persistence of otherworldly maidens in the legends of European peoples must argue for their foundation in some objective reality. Their association with ancient sacred sites such as springs and groves is plenteously recorded. As one guise of the threefold archetypal Earth Goddess (maiden, mother, hag) the impression upon folk-consciousness is even more powerful. The correlation between such spirits and the landscape around each Maiden Castle or Bower must be the subject of detailed investigation—but may we not, as a preliminary hypothesis, presume that such an otherwise unaccountable place name preserves the idea that here, in or on these earthworks, the Maiden dwelt?”
    ‘And then,’ continued Ralph, ‘A curious chain of deduction came to me. Suppose that Hurt is right, I thought, and Madberry was once peculiarly sacred to a Maiden deity—the same whose face Bentley saw—then how would the construction of a tower seem? When no other man-made structure has apparently been set up on the Hill? In symbolical terms, the intention could hardly be more aggressive. . . .
    ‘Bentley’s constant brooding over the erection of the Tower stirred the latent guardian spirit against the assault. The first vision was by way of warning, and I almost incline to believe that its use of symptoms connected with the glowberry may have been a trick for our too-rational minds.
    ‘As we did not take the appearance of the Maiden at face value, but concocted instead what we liked to think of as a logical explanation, we were blinded to the truth of the matter. Similarly, the flock of moths was a microcosm of the great throng assembled on the hill top. To carry such clues to extremes, we might even say the glowberry forewarned us of the significance of the full moon—the pale, shining globe was an exact facsimile: There are many dimensions to the Maiden—at lowest, a cunning deceiver and wild jester, at highest a Moon Goddess. All aspects were on display