We've arrived at the final section of the hike; the "Hellish Darkness."
Many Gronsveld and Keerden residents used to feel uneasy in this part of the woods, especially when out alone. "It's not safe there," people whispered in the villages...
In earlier centuries, the Gronsveld gallows stood on this side of Riesenberg Hill. The location of this gallows is clearly indicated on old archive maps. Criminals sentenced to death by the Gronsveld court (a medieval judicial body) met their end on this gallows, which was erected here in the Count's forest.
Ancient historians recount that the gallows was placed on a high point so that the condemned could enjoy a beautiful view in their final moments.
Groeve de Hèl (Hell Quarry)
On your left, hidden among the greenery, lies "Groeve de Hèl" (HelL Quarry). According to old stories, this quarry owes its name to the surrounding forest, where it was "hellishly dark" after sunset—a place people preferred to avoid at night.
The quarry has two entrances, each designated "Great Hell" and "Little Hell." The entrance to the Great Hell lies to the southwest, and the entrance to the Little Hell to the northeast. The two sections are connected by a crawlway. The exact age of the quarry remains shrouded in mystery, but it is beyond dispute that it dates back to at least the 16th century. Like an echo from the distant past, someone carved the year "1587" into the marlstone in a small niche.
In June 1965, a major collapse occurred in the quarry. Centuries of marl mining had severely damaged the stone. After the collapse, the entrances were closed off. December 1982, several members of the Association for Nature Conservation (VTN) Cadier en Keer entered the Helgroeve quarry for a nature study. Armed with lamps and notebooks, they wandered through the quiet marl corridors, where every footstep was gently swallowed by the dust of centuries.
During their journey, they came across all sorts of inscriptions in the marlstone. Sometimes it was nothing more than a name or a date, hastily scratched by someone who wanted to leave a trace of their visit here. But among these simple signs were also words that set the imagination in motion.
One inscription read: "I am in Hell, I know that. I am all alone here. Only the devil knows where my comrades are." It sounded like a whisper from a time when the quarry was still a place one descended with a certain trepidation.
Another warning was sternly added: "Beware those who love the Devil, for here in this place that has always borne the name of Hell, the devils are countless." Further on, they found an almost desperate sigh, in a mixture of languages the corridors had heard over the years: "Never again will I come here to that cursed cavern."
And amidst all those menacing texts, there suddenly appeared something edifying, almost inviting reconciliation: “You who enter here, let all feuds be forsaken.” As if someone had once paused and concluded that whoever enters Hell would be better off descending without quarrel or resentment.
But perhaps the greatest surprise was a piece of gentle, almost cryptic poetry, carefully carved into the stone: “Sister of the sunbeam, a white rose in the bouquet, a lily on the foliage, a swan whose down doesn't recognize its border, a star in the blue firmament.” As if someone wanted to leave a glimmer of light in the shadows of Hell.
Today, the quarries are closed off, carefully so that bats can fly in and out freely.
The corridors have become silent, but the words in the walls still whisper their stories...
You are now leaving the hill forest via the descending road on your right; 'the Helweg' (Hèlwieëg in the dialect), a "hollow road" that leads into the valley towards Gronsveld.
According to old stories, the Helweg was avoided as much as possible after dark. This last section of the route had a bad reputation in the past.
The name "Helweg" (Hell road) alone had something macabre. During the day, this sunken road was menacing enough, but as soon as night fell, it seemed to transform naturally into a place where one instinctively quickened their pace. After rain, the earth became treacherously slippery, and the trees bent over the path like warning sentinels.
To this day, the Helweg carries something of all this with it: a lingering memory of darkness, of old fears, and of the stories that linger in the forest.
However witchcraft isn't about good or evil, and certainly not about dark forces or contradictions.
At its core, witchcraft is about connection: with the earth, with the seasons, with everything that grows, blooms, and breathes. It's an ancient way of life in which you listen to the rhythms of nature and learn to cooperate with it rather than control it.
A witch seeks balance — within herself and in the world around her — and sees nature not as something external, but as something of which she is an inseparable part.
- The End -
We hope you've been inspired by the walk. Want to learn more about our artists and their work, or perhaps snag a souvenir? Then be sure to visit our website and shop.
Besides original artwork, you'll find cards, fine art prints, handmade 'witchy' fashion & jewellery design and last but not least the photo book "Den Hekse Weeg - The Witches Road."
