Escaped from this Stygian cave, I revisited the antiquity called the Round Fold, by the road side from Chelmerton hither, at Stadon; and under the hill called Stadon Hoe. I take it to be a curious Celtic antiquity, much of the nature of those which in Anglesey and Wiltshire we call Druids houses: so in Dorsetshire circles of stones they call Folds. The country people say it was cast up in war-time long since. It consists of a square _vallum_, 100 feet each side: the ditch whence it came is on the inside: eastward from this is a circle of 160 feet diameter, of like manner: the whole stands on an open plain, which declines northward: the square is upon a level; but the circular part declines gently from thence: on that point of the circle farthest from the square is a little semicircular cove of earth, like the place of a tabernacle. It is hard to say whether it was for a private use, or for judicature, or religious affairs; but in the pasture behind it is a barrow, and several more barrows in view, on the hill-tops. At Stadon I saw a large square intrenchment, now divided into pastures; and upon the top of the hoe, where the hawthorn stands, seem to have been some works. This circle of ours, by sinking the ditch within, seems well contrived for shows: five or six tire of people may stand commodiously round it, and look over one another’s heads. Both _vallum_ and ditch are but small, much inferior to that of a camp. In the field by the garden at Buxton are two springs close together, one hot, the other cold. Little flint arrow-heads of the ancient Britons, called Elfs arrows, are frequently ploughed up here. Roman plaster found here, mentioned in Thoresby’s _Ducat. Leodiens._ p. 558. A Roman road is said to go hence to Burgh, beyond Elden park. * * * * * Journeying hence over the remainder of these Alpine regions, we come to Goyt house, in the very centre of desolation. The most western of these hills are more barren and difficult than the others, and fuller of springs. At length we entered the pleasant country of Cheshire, as into a new world; wondering that people are found who can content themselves with the poverty and horror of the Peak, so near riches and delight. MACCLESFIELD Is a pretty large and pleasant town, sheltering itself from eastern blasts by its vicinity to these high hills: it stands upon an eminence, and is famous for manufactures of silk twisting, mohair, making buttons, &c. The church is placed upon the edge of the hill. South is a large chapel of the ancient family of Rivers (_Ripariis_) another of the Leighs, where, for saying a small number of _Ave-marys_ and _Paternosters_, we obtain 26,000 years and odd days of pardon: to such a degree of extravagance was the superstitious folly of our ancestors advanced!