There are stories about the Hexenkopf around the Lehigh Valley, i.e. bewitched forest, GPS becoming unreliable, but many people do not know that it had once been a ceremonial site of the Lenni Lenape. It was realized in Colonial times as a glowing hill, lit up at night by bonfires, burning for ceremonies we’ll likely never know.
In the northern reaches of the Lehigh Valley, along the Kittatinny Ridge, there had been similar ceremonies. The largest of these gatherings occurred on full moons in order to ward off the Lenape demon, Matantu.
At this point in Colonial American history, there were not many conflicts north of the Kittatinny Ridge, which is where Heinrich and his family lived. Beneath the northern face of Blue Mountain was a small farm, a married couple and two young children. At 10 years of age, Heinrich had immigrated to the Province of Pennsylvania with his parents, both of whom succumbed to illness soon after arrival to the New World. At 17 years, he was quite happy with his quiet life, having met Hilde at a young age who bore him one son and one daughter.
There had been an increasing amount of territory disputes and ‘raids’ since the Whitehall Massacres, which unsettled the German settlers north of Kittatinny Ridge. Soon after the massacres, the Englishmen on the farm nearest to Heinrich’s joined a retaliative raid onto Lenape territory.
One late night in the light of the full moon, Heinrich awoke to a strange smell and sounds of coughing, which lamentably reminded him of his parents demise. As he looked around his room, he saw the peak of Kittatinny Ridge glowing amber, uneventfully as it was a full moon. He followed the sounds of coughing to his children’s room, where he found the windows open on the cool summer night. The gale was filling the room with a dreadful smell. Hilde ran to her children, finding them with swollen faces, blue lips and a whistling breath.
The next morning, the children’s limp bodies were buried on the far reaches of the German settlers’ property. Heinrich was sure to seek revenge for the death of his children. He was sure that the deaths were at the fault of the Lenape. He was sure he would enforce his own justice.
He set out that night, with a body exhausted and sore from digging his children’s graves all night without sleep. The amber glow was his destination as he wound up the north face of the mountain. As he reached the bouldery summit, no one was to be found. He had heard rustling noises and low growls while surmounting the boulders, but dismissed these noises as it was commonplace in the Wilds. Revenge remained affixed in his mind.
As he approached the glowing balefire, he saw a dark shape enter the clearing from the treeline. He knew from the way the figure moved it could not be human. No feet made contact with the ground as it advanced. The cool summer night which had disappeared as Heinrich approached the fire returned as the figure neared itself to him. He began to feel an icy cool which he hadn’t felt since winter. He was then able to see the demonic face which Matantu possessed. The demon threw Heinrich into the fire. The flames surrounded him as he struggled to escape, but no amount of force could overcome the demon. The fire burned through Heinrich’s skin, but he only felt icy burns. The anger which Heinrich had possessed on his final trek disappeared as he thought of his children and wife. He knew this would be his final night on Earth, until the demon growled to him “You will be cursed to walk these rocks for eternity … Any rock which your burning feet touch, will trap your soul forever.” Heinrich began to think of a plan to make his way down the mountain to his farm by jumping from rock to rock. When Matantu released his charred body, the demon slyly appeared at every rock, blocking his next move. The cunning demon and the German farmer continued this dance, until Heinrich realized the demon had guided him to form a circle, descending then ascending the rocky escarpment. He then realized he was cursed to roam this small circle for eternity, on Kittatinny Ridge.
The next morning, Hilde awoke to an empty bed. She has fallen asleep to one, but expected to awake to her forlorned other half. She left the farm to search for her husband. She stopped at the Englishmen’s farm to ask if they had seen her husband. With her broken English, she understood what had actually occurred those two nights ago. The Englishmen had burned a giant pile of a plant, unfamiliar to the European eye, called poison ivy. They had worn face coverings to ensure they did not intake any toxin. Hilde wept as she wandered the forest only to find her husband’s burned remains on the ceremonial pyre.