IRONSTONE FORMATION OF THE FOREST OF DEAN. 



273 



aware that vast caverns exist beneath them, capable of accommodating 

 the largest assemblies and presenting the most mystic and -wonderful 

 outlines. One of these old workings, or weeldons," as they are 

 locally termed, on Dean's jMeend, nearMitcheldean, known as the Sway 

 Pole Mine Hole" — a name by no means worthy of its grand extent — 

 may be visited without much difficulty by a little venturesome climbing, 

 and its description will afford a good idea of the mode of occurrence of 

 the churns, it being remembered that the passages and chambers have 

 alone been formed by the excavation of the ironstone, none of the lime- 

 stone or crease," as is attested by the absence of any rubbish-heaps 

 at the surface, having been removed. The entrance is by a deep 

 precipitous but somewhat sloping pit, barely more than a yard in width. 

 "When the bottom of this is reached by the aid of a rope or ladder, the 

 visitor stands within a small natural vestibule, on one side of which is a 

 rude descending staircase, on the other a downright hole, the bottom of 

 which has not been found. Lighting our candles, we proceed by the 

 staircase — in which, however, there is an inconvenient irregularity in 

 the size and order of the steps — down some twelve yards or so, and then 

 enter a low horizontal winding gallery requiring a good deal of crawl- 

 ing on hands and knees to traverse it without a wounded head. Arrived 

 •at the end of this gallery, we can again stand up in a small chamber, 

 from which several galleries lead off, but all of which wind back by 

 various contorted paths to the staircase just passed. Stooping low, 

 again, and taking the one path, we descend to an opening, the gloom of 

 which, at first, the light of our candles seems unable to penetrate, but 

 which, an assailing gust of cold air tells us, communicates by 

 some pipe or channel with the surface above. A few seconds pass, and, 

 by the feeble rays thrown before us, we see a steep, descending bank, 

 covered with blocks of the ^' crease " of various sizes, which have 

 evidently fallen from the roof, gazing up to which, other blocks, still 

 impending and half-detached, make us wish the descent over, especially 

 when the first foot that we set on these loose stones sends some of them 

 thundering down, and we hear them leap, leap, leaping in the steep 

 galleries below, until they seem to fall into some bottomless abyss. Down 

 the steep slope, which we traverse altogether — and indeed to offer, here, 

 precedence in going is to pay no compliment, with the stones rattling 

 and bounding before us — until we reach a small worked- out churn, from 

 which we issue by clambering over a huge block of detached rock, and 



