numerous, obelisks,
top-heavy columns, bastions; at one point no less than eight headlands
stretched to the end of the world before me, each pierced by its arch,
Norman or Gothic, in whole or in half; and here again caves, in one of
which I found a carpet-bag stuffed with a wet pulp like bread, and,
stuck to the rock, a Turkish tarboosh; also, under a limestone quarry,
five dead asses: but no man. The east coast had evidently been shunned.
Finally, in the afternoon I reached Filey, very tired, and there slept.

* * * * *

I went onward by train-engine all along the coast to a region of
iron-ore, alum, and jet-excavations round Whitby and Middlesborough. By
by-ways near the small place of Goldsborough I got down to the shore at
Kettleness, and reached the middle of a bay in which is a cave called
the Hob-Hole, with excavations all around, none of great depth, made by
jet-diggers and quarrymen. In the cave lay a small herd of cattle,
though for what purpose put there I cannot guess; and in the
jet-excavations I found nothing. A little further south is the chief
alum-region, as at Sandsend, but as soon as I saw a works, and the great
gap in the ground like a crater, where the lias is quarried, containing
only heaps of alum-shale, brushwood-stacks, and piles of cement-nodules
extracted from the lias, I concluded that here could have been found no
hiding; nor did I purposely visit the others, though I saw two later.
From round Whitby, and those rough moors, I went on to Darlington, not
far now from my home: but I would not continue that way, and after two
days' indecisive lounging, started for Richmond and the lead mines
about Arkengarth Dale, near Reeth. Here begins a region of mountain,
various with glens, fells, screes, scars, swards, becks, passes,
villages, river-heads, and dales. Some of the faces which I saw in it
almost seemed to speak to me in a broad dialect which I knew. But they
were not numerous in proportion: for all this country-side must have had
its population multiplied by at least some hundreds; and the villages
had rather the air of Danube, Levant, or Spanish villages. In one, named
Marrick, I saw that the street had become the scene either of a great
battle or a great massacre; and soon I was everywhere coming upon men
and women, English and foreign, dead from violence: cracked heads,
wounds, unhung jaws, broken limbs, and so on. Instead of going direct to
the mines from