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under their special protection, and the possession of the "foure-levit clover," gave an insight into the mysteries of fairy-land. Their chief delight on earth was to hold midnight revels on moonlight nights, on hills, in woods, or in hollows; but their favourite haunt in Northumberland, was around the Hurl Stane, near Chillingham New Town. History is silent regarding the origin of this monolith. In a charter, A.D. 1270, it is referred to as "the Stane cross in Clapton-hed." It is a sandstone pillar, roughly squared, about fifteen feet in height, now standing on a pedestal of a more recent date than the stone itself, which, however, is of great antiquity, the north face being deeply guttered by the rains and storms which have broken over it for many centuries. When the moon shone brightly, the fairies trooped thither from the dell, and cavern, and green knowe, and held their midnight orgies, and joined in the elfin dance around the stone. The circles of bright green left on the grass were viewed as undoubted proofs of the fairy revel.

When such legends were received with faith, Bewick was a town guarded by its strong pele tower, and the sound of the church-going bell was heard from its beautiful little church, now in ruins, but still an interesting example of Norman architecture. At this period, a party of young men, belonging to the ancient town of Bewick, resolved to explore the mysterious cavern, extending from the Caterans' Cove to Henshole. Their leader was one of the Halls, who, "from

time out of mind," had dwelt at Bewick. Bold and fearless, nothing daunted him, except supernatural agencies-for he was a believer in all the legendary lore of the district. The party could only make the attempt at night, as their time during the day was fully occupied with the ordinary duties of life; but, knowing that they had a long and toilsome journey before them, they took provisions and candles to support them and lighten their way.

As the daylight was fading away, they assembled at the Caterans' Cove, which is now a cleft in the sandstone rock on Harehope Moor, with a low entrance, but expanding into a cavern of moderate dimensions. They entered it, and for some time vigorously wended their way along the subterranean passage-now scrambling over rocks -now plunging through water-sometimes walking upright, but more frequently stooping down or crawling. Often had they to rest and refresh themselves, and so exhausting were their efforts, and so hopeless at length seemed the undertaking, that most of the party lost heart and wished to retrace their steps. The bold Hall was, however, determined to persevere, and by the force of his example, and the power which the strong mind has over the weak, he induced his companions to resume their journey. They toiled onward till they arrived at a large stone, which appeared to block further progress ; still Hall persevered, and, by great efforts, succeeded in climbing to the top of the stone, when he found an opening sufficient to admit his body through; by entreaties, by jeers, and by holding out the hope of their journey being nearly completed, he induced the others to follow him; and when on the other side of the block, the party found themselves within a large chamber, which appeared in some

degree to have been hollowed out by art.

Here they sat down to

refresh themselves; and, while resting, were startled by the sound of wondrous music, which seemed to come down through the earth above them; the strains were wild, but entrancing, now rising and swelling, and then dying away like the gushes of harmony issuing from the Æolian harp, as the evening breeze fitfully sweeps through the strings when other sounds are mute. Ere long, the pattering of tiny feet was heard beating time to the wild music; and soon blending with these sounds, a song was chanted by many voices, shrill, though sweet, but yet unlike earthly tones; and this was the burden of the song

"Wind about and turn again,

And thrice around the Hurl Stane."

Often was the song repeated with slight variations, as the elfin singers beat time in their circular dance :

"Round about and wind again,

And thrice around the Hurl Stane."

The sounds ceased, and the party were seized with terror; even Hall, though undaunted by physical difficulties, quailed beneath a supernatual visitation. They had passed under the Till, and had entered into a secret chamber of the fairies, and were now beneath the Hurl Stane. They had heard the song and the dance of a fairy midnight revel around this charmed stone. Not more than the third part of their journey had been accomplished, and they saw with alarm that their provisions were exhausted, and their candles nearly burnt out. They hurriedly retraced their steps. The dread of evil befalling them for intruding at night in the domains of the good folk" gave them speed; and after a toilsome journey, partly in darkness, which rendered their condition more fearful, they arrived, miserably exhausted, at the entrance of the Caterans' Cove as the morning light began to break.

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For long afterwards, the mysterious and haunted passage was regarded with horror, and no attempt was again made to explore its hidden recesses. Usually the name of the cave has been written Catherine's Cave, but this appears to be a corruption of Cateran, the northern name of a marauder or robber, to whom it was a convenient place of refuge in troublesome times. More recently, it was occasionally used by the smuggler to hide the contraband goods brought across the border.

No good etymology has been given of the Hurl Stane. Probably, however, the name has reference to the mystic dance of the fairiesas, to hurl, is to turn round.* Henhole is sometimes called Hellhole, which a learned friend supposes may be its true name, derived from el or ell, water, and meaning the water hole whence the Col

*Mr W. Sidney Gibson informs me that, in the parish of Linkinhorne in Cornwall, three circles of upright standing stones on a wild and rocky hill, and having a mean height of about four feet, are called "Hurlers." Tradition says that they are lads transformed into stone for hurling on a Sunday.

ledge has its source. We think, however, Henhole is the archaic name from hen, Celtic, signifying old, and hence we have the old hollow.

The fairies, it is said, have been dead and were buried at Brinkburn many a long year ago. This, however, will apply only to the Brinkburn community, for in other localities the belief in the "good folk" has lingered on even into the present century. Some forty years ago, or more, we had near to Alnwick, the Fairies' Hollow, on the top of Clayport bank. At that period a boy who, having drunk more deeply than was perhaps good for him out of the wells of imaginative literature, stole away from his bed on a moonlit night, and ensconsed among the rocks overlooking the hollow, waited and watched till the "witching hour of night" to catch a glimpse of the fairies tripping out of the caverns and hills. The grass waved to and fro by a gentle breeze, and the pale light flickered over the hollow, as fleecy clouds sailed over the moon; imagination was excited, aided, it may be, by the "foure-levit clover" hidden in his cap, and troops of green-clad tiny elves appeared to swarm over the hollow, and to join in the mystic mazes of the dance. Soon, however, darker clouds obscured the moon, and threw a shadow over the scene; the illusion was dispelled-the vision melted away—and the boy reluctantly returned home to his bed, to dream of fairy land.

These old beliefs and superstitions have died out in our district, and the very name of our hollow is unknown to the new generation. We have entered on an age marvellously utilitarian, and our modern science and practical philosophy have spread through towns and villages and even penetrated lone hamlets and cottages among the moors and mountains. From this cause the reign of fairies and ghosts, brownies and kelpies, is at an end. In minds still inclined to such superstition, it takes the new form of mesmerism, clairvoyance, or spirit-rapping. Sure are we, that never again will the fairies revisit our hollow; the scene of the elfin dance is now the site of a machine, which, driven by water gathered from the hills, thrashes the freemen's corn grown on Alnwick moor. Well would it be for mankind were all changes so beneficial.

BERWICKSHIRE NATURALISTS' CLUB.

THE annual meeting of this Club was held at Belford, September 24, and the day being favourable, there was a good attendance, including the office-bearers of the society, and the leading antiquaries of the district.

The Belford Crags and Middleton quarry were visited, where occurs an interesting section of basaltic rock overlying limestone, and where the rasped and rubbed surface indicates the action of an iceberg driven over it by an ancient sea. After dinner, the president, John Turnbull, Esq., read an admirable address, giving interesting details of the proceedings of the year. He referred to the great prosperity of the Club, and offered some valuable suggestions with respect to the future admission of members. The propriety of reprinting the early numbers of the transactions of the Club was considered and approved of.

Mr Tate, the active secretary, was requested to send a circular to all the members inviting subscriptions towards reprinting the first three volumes. Mr Stevenson, Dunse, was chosen president for the ensuing year.

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