vision. It abounded in fuel which cost nothing, for though the
veins were not worth working as a source of mining profit, the soil
of Wodgate was similar in its superficial character to that of the
country around.

So a population gathered, and rapidly increased in the ugliest spot
in England, to which neither Nature nor art had contributed a single
charm; where a tree could not be seen, a flower was unknown, where
there was neither belfry nor steeple, nor a single sight or sound
that could soften the heart or humanize the mind.

Whatever may have been the cause, whether, as not unlikely, the
original squatters brought with them some traditionary skill, or
whether their isolated and unchequered existence concentrated their
energies on their craft, the fact is certain, that the inhabitants of
Wodgate early acquired a celebrity as skilful workmen.

This reputation so much increased, and in time spread so far, that,
for more than a quarter of a century, both in their skill and the
economy of their labour, they have been unmatched throughout the
country.

As manufacturers of ironmongery they carry the palm from the whole
district; as founders of brass and workers of steel they fear none;
while as nailers and locksmiths, their fame has spread even to the
European markets whither their most skilful workmen have frequently
been invited.

Invited in vain! No wages can tempt the Wodgate man from his native
home, that squatters' seat which soon assumed the form of a large
village, and then in turn soon expanded into a town, and at the
present moment numbers its population by swarming thousands, lodged
in the most miserable tenements, in the most hideous burgh, in the
ugliest country in the world.

But it has its enduring spell. Notwithstanding the spread of its
civic prosperity, it has lost none of the characteristics of its
original society; on the contrary, it has zealously preserved them.
There are no landlords, head-lessees, main-masters, or butties in
Wodgate.

[Picture: George Borrow]

No church there has yet raised its spire; and, as if the jealous
spirit of Woden still haunted his ancient temple, even the
conventicle scarcely dare show his humble front in some obscure
corner. There is no municipality, no magistrate; there are no local