years ago the hall
and estate were sold to the Duke of Bridgewater, and, the site having
been required for other purposes, the hall was pulled down, but no
money was discovered.

In Ireland, there are few old ruins in and about which excavations
have not been made in the expectation of discovering hidden wealth,
and in some instances the consequence of this belief has been the
destruction of the building, which has been actually undermined. About
three miles south of Cork, near the village of Douglas, is a hill
called Castle Treasure, where a "cross of gold" was supposed to be
concealed; and the discovery, some years ago, of a rudely-formed clay
urn and two or three brazen implements attracted for some time crowds
to the spot.

But such stories are not confined to any special locality, and there
is, in most parts of England, a popular belief that vast treasures are
hidden beneath the old ruins of many houses, and that supernatural
obstacles always prevent their being discovered. Indeed, Scotland has
numerous legends of this kind, some of which, as Mr. Chambers has
pointed out, have been incorporated into its popular rhymes. Thus, on
a certain farm in the parish of Lesmahagow, from time immemorial there
existed a tradition that underneath a very large stone was secreted a
vast treasure in the shape of a kettleful, a bootful, and a bull-hide
full "of gold, all of which have been designated 'Katie Neevie's
hoord,'" having given rise to the following adage:

Between Dillerhill and Crossford
There lies Katie Neevie's hoord.

And at Fardell, anciently the seat of Sir Walter Raleigh's family, in
the courtyard formerly stood an inscribed bilingual stone of the Roman
British period; the stone is now in the British Museum. The tradition
current in the neighbourhood makes the inscription refer to a treasure
buried by Sir Walter Raleigh, and hence the local rhyme:

Between this stone and Fardell Hall
Lies as much money as the devil can haul.

A curious incident happened in Ireland about the commencement of the
last century. The Bishop of Derry being at dinner, there came in an
old Irish harper, and sang an ancient song to his harp. The Bishop,
not being acquainted with Irish, was at a loss to understand the
meaning of the song, but on inquiry he ascertained the substance of it
to be this--that in a certain spot a man of gigantic stature lay
buried, and that over his breast and back were plates of pure gold,