The girl did not seem to know much more about the well than the names of the things hung up to petrify, so we left her and looked about for ourselves.

The rocks about Knaresborough are composed of magnesian limestone, and the lime becomes dissolved in D 2

the spring water—so highly charged, indeed, is it with mineral matter, that in a gallon of water there are of carbonate of lime 23 parts, sulphate of magnesia 11 parts, and sulphate of lime 132 parts, and a pint of it weighs 24 grains heavier than one of common

water. The water seems willing enough to get rid of its mineral burthen, and anything, therefore, placed within its reach, so to say, it converts into stone. The owners of the well have taken advantage of this fact, and hang up miscellaneous objects which are ordinarily supposed to be converted into stone.. This is not, however, actually the case; they are merely covered over with a coating of stone-like material, which, of course, takes the form of the objects which it encrusts. I have now before me a moor-hen and a 61 nedgeog ” from the well at Knaresborough. The form of these creatures is not, as may be imagined, very well preserved. The hedgehog reminds one much of the hedgehogs made of sponge-cake which one sees in the pastrycook’s shop. I have made a section of my fossil moor-hen, and found the stony coating very hard indeed, and much like in appearance, as indeed it is in composition, to the fur which is found inside ordinary tea-kettles. The feathers, bones, &c., of the bird have almost disappeared from decay. The cast, however, of it is accurately taken by the deposit from the well. I have also a wig, but this is a terribly

shapeless mass, and very fragile.* In the show-room

-of the hotel by the inn are many really beautiful speci mens of incrustations, particularly the birds’ -nests and a pheasant, of which the form is accurately preserved. There is also a badger, which would form an excellent museum specimen, for the traces of the rough hair are distinctly perceptible, even though it is one solid mass of stone. I have also a birds’-nest or two—thrushes, linnets, and other small birds'—the eggs in them. fact, a per-Both eggs and nests are hard and solid—in fect mass of heavy stone, and very pretty ornaments for the drawing-room they are. I have broken one of these eggs, and find the egg-shell bright and white inside

its stone-like cover. We crept about under the deep ledges of the rock, and found ample proofs of the wonderful Medusalike power of this water. A mass of leaves, moss, sticks, &c., had evidently, at some time, been blown together by the wind up in the corner where we found them. We could see the individual leaves, moss, branches, &c. as plain as though they had just been brought there, but when I attempted to remove a leaf—no; it was hard, * My father, the Dean, frequently told me that he had an old wig, the property of the late Archbishop of York (Harcourt), in the attics of the Clarendon Museum, and that one day it was to be put in his museum. On the Dean’s death we looked for it everywhere but could not find it. The Archbishop’s wig had been sent to some dropping well, possibly Knaresborough, to be petrified.

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firm, fixed as solid as a wreath carved on a marble tombstone. A most beautiful group of natural object* was this; and much more striking than the hideous outstretched and deformed worsted stocking we saw hung up under the well. This process of nature- casting has been taken advantage of by the art-loving Italians. At San Filippo* between Home and Sienna, there also is a dripping-well but the deposit in this case is white, like marble. The

proprietors, wishing to turn this natural-manufactory to account,* “ have placed under the drip moulds and medallions of antique heads, figures, &c., made of sulphur. The water, careless of results, artistic or not, has deposited carbonate of lime on the mould to the thickness of half an inch or more, taking a most beautifully accurate cast of the figure in rilievo, the surface being very smooth and polished, answering to the surface of the sulphur. This deposit goes on so gradually, and with such minuteness, that even the lines in a delicate wood-engraving have been accurately moulded, and we have the picture in hard, solid carbonate of lime, instead of thin, perishable paper. If we reverse one of these stone pictures we shall find that the outside layer is exceedingly rough and indented, the results of the water dripping from the well.” I have a case containing a

I here quote from my “ Curiosities of Natural History.” Second Series.

number of these beautiful casts, brought bj the Dean from Italy, and they are, I believe, almost unique m this country. I wish the worthy proprietor of “ The Mother Shipton,” the hotel at Knaresborough on the grounds of which the dropping-well is situated, would take the hint above given, and endeavour to cause his well to set to work, and become a candidate for a prize in the School of Design department of the South Kensington Museum. In my First Series will be found an account of the a Sunday Stone,” a curious natural Kalendar manufactured in the drain-pipe of a

coalpit.

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A ROMAN RACECOURSE.

THE DEVIL’S ARROWS AT BORO’-BRIDGE.

During my stay at Knaresborough I made an excursion, under the friendly guidance of Mr. Blenkhorn, to Borobridge. Among the numerous most interesting remains of that ancient Roman station, the “ Devil’s Arrows” stand pre-eminent. They consist of three enormous blocks of stone, which are found in a field close to the roadside, about a quarter of a mile from the town of Boro’-bridge. The most northern arrow is 18 feet high, and 22 in circumference; the centre 22 feet high, and 18 in circumference, and of a square form the most southerly is about a match to the centre one. They all lean a little towards the south-east and have been decidedly squared by human hands, but no marks of the chisel are now to be seen. They have been said by some to be of an artificial composition; this is not the case. They are blocks of natural millstone grit, a kind of stone which may be described as hardened sand, thickly studded with small bits of quartz, reminding one of a sago pudding suddenly converted into stone. They

exhibit curious gutter-ridges at the tops and down the sides, probably caused by the effects of wet and rain during the many hundred years they have been exposed to the storm and tempest. They are, in fact, huge giant stones, erected by a people long passed away. Their mysterious aspect, in their grim and silent solitude, makes the spectator regard them with a species of reverence and awe, which it is not easy to overcome. Now, the question arises, who put these stones in their present position, and why were they so placed? At the present time they stand in solitary grandeur, and are, to modern eyes, “ apropos to nothing in particular.” Some folks will tell you that they are monuments of victory, erected by the Romans; others, that they are the work of ancient Britons, and were part of a temple used by the Druids. The common people, of course, have a legend, and ascribe them to Satanic influence,* for every great work of unknown origin is, by the unreflecting, invariably attributed to the Devil. He has been blamed, or rather praised, for building bridges and other useful erections in different places, and that, more often than not, in a single night. On this occasion u meaning mischief,” so says the legend, he took his stand upon How-hill (about seven or eight miles from this place, and near to Fountains Abbey), planted one

“History of Boro’ -bridge.” 1853.

foot firmly on the front of the hill, and the other on the back part, made a short declaration of his intentions in the genuine dialect of Yorkshire, thus—

Borobrigg keep out o’th’way, For Audboro town I will ding down

and then, discharging his stone bow, fairly missed his mark, the bolts falling a mile short of their object hence the name “ Devil’s Arrows.”

There can, however, in my humble opinion, be no doubt as to what they really are, viz., the metes, or goals (winning-posts, if you please), of an ancient Eoman racecourse. With this idea in my head, I stood upon the top of a gatepost and looked round, and with “half an eye” I perceived that, if the hedges were removed, there would be a famous bit of galloping ground round these pillars; in fact, my wonder is that the Yorkshiremen of the present day, with their love of racing, do not use this spot even now as a racecourse. The course reminds me somewhat of Ascot, there being a rise in the ground at a distance just convenient enough to make the “ run-in ” of a good race more interesting. As I stood on the gate, I could not help wondering if the day would ever come when our grand stand and iron chains and pillars of Ascot or Epsom racecourses would be dug up by some New Zealander who, standing, as I

did, on the top of a gate, would wonder how the ct Ancient English ” managed their races! That these curious u Devil’s Arrows ” mark out an ancient Eoman racecourse may be, I think, further argued out as follows. Aldborough, which is situated close by, was a Roman station—Isurium of old—of great importance in Roman times. That it was much frequented by Roman 11 swells,” can, I think, be proved by the numerous Roman tesselated pavements—only used by people of opulence. Now these fine old Romans were naturally what we might call a “ sporting set,” and had their race meetings just as we English people do now. Being Yorkshire Romans they must naturally have imbibed the love of horses and horse racing, which I believe is natural in the air of this celebrated county, and is

thoroughly transfused into the blood of the Yorkshiremen of the present day. Now how could the Roman nobles and country gentry living near the county town Aldborough, and in the garrison city of York, have amused themselves better than by race meetings; and where could there be a better racecourse than in the fields close by the town in which the “ Devil’s Arrows ” now stand? And be it here remarked, that the course marked out by these stones is as near as possible (as I am informed by Mr. Lawson of Aldborough) of the same measure as the well-known course at Rome, viz., 606 feet.

I shut my eyes to everything around

! Look back—look back—look back, these thousand years

I imagine a Roman Derby-day, the grand stand—the spina—the Roman ladies assembled, all looking on at the fun, while their attendants held up umbrellas or parasols to keep off the sun—Decimina—Socia Jun-cina—Aurelia Censorina—Simplicia Florentina—iElia get their names fromSevera—Flavia Augustina—I their very tombs now in York Museum—their hair decorated withy‘s ornaments, their garments of velvet or plush ornamented with crimson or purple stripes-their necklaces of yellow, green, and blue glass and of coral and blue glass—their earrings of fine twisted golc hair-wire—their bracelets ofbronze—their brooches and fine silver twistpins of mosaic work—beads strung on all gay and pretty. The reader may ask how I can describe with such confidence the costumes of these Roman ladies. The answer is, that these ornaments can all be seen in the Museum at York, alas! no longer on beautiful ladies, who must certainly have worn them, but in glass cases as curiosities.

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