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tended for defences, as some think, or rude temples, as others deem more probable—have remained to this day a marvel both to archæologist and to peasant. We shall find the Roman period pictured to us by the amphitheatre, which has withstood all changes. We shall see, in the old town of Dorchester, evidence of a spot which has known Romans, Saxons, and Normans, in succession, and still remains one of our southern cities. We shall see how, in Weymouth, by a dextrous adaptation of natural advantages, a small fishing village has become a fashionable watering-place. We shall obtain, in the Isle of Portland, an epitome of certain remarkable geological changes, and a glance at the mode in which building-stones are obtained from the quarries. We shall have proof how inviting a harbour nature seems to have formed between Portland and the main coast, and how splendid a haven of refuge this will become when the projected breakwater is completed. Lastly, we shall witness the strange sight of the bustling busy locomotive, rushing close past the Roman earthworks in one spot, and tunnelling beneath the British tumuli in another-a race, a contest, between time-enduring works and timeannihilating machines. All these features are to be met with in the circle whose limits are marked above.
“THE PORTLAND QUARRIES AND QUARRYMEN. “The quarry itself is usually worked by a company of six men and two boys, whose pay in all cases depends on the quantity of good stone wrought or 'won' in a given time, at a certain stipulated wages per ton. This being the condition, it follows that no money is earned by the quarryman until the thirty feet of rubbish and bad stone have been removed; and this removal, in the case of a new quarry, is said to occupy a space of three years, with the labours of six men and two
boys! The men must, therefore, either have a little store of accumulated earnings by them, or they must have money advanced on account by their employers, to support them until the good and merchantable stone is brought to light. The real arrangement is said to be as follows:-Ten shillings per ton is fixed by common consent, as the average price paid to the quarrymen for their labour; and this is supposed to include the value of all the preliminary work. The money thus earned is placed to the credit of the quarrymen; and at the end of six months an account is made out, and a balance determined. During the interval, the agents or stewards open chandler's shops, from whence the men can purchase their provisions, on the credit of their forthcoming account. The average wages of a quarryman are set down at about twelve shillings a week, if at full work; but there are many drawbacks from this sum. If it rain before nine in the morning, no work is to be done that day; if the wind be high, the dust in the quarries is so dangerous to his eyes, that he has to leave work; if the markets are dull, his labours are restricted to four days a week; if a burial occur in the island, he is expected, by immemorial usage, to refrain from work during the rest of the day; if accidents occur, which are very probable, expenses of one kind or another follow—so that the real earnings are not supposed to reach ten shillings a week, on an average.
“Without entering minutely into the processes described by Smeaton, it may be interesting to trace the history of a block of stone till it leaves the island. First, the layers of surfacesoil and rubbish are dug up, and carried in strong iron-bound barrows, to be thrown over the fallow fields in the neighbourhood. Some of the next layers are then broken up and
removed, by picks and wedges, and carted away from the quarry, either to be thrown over the cliffs into the sea, or to be piled up in large mounds at a distance. When the roach is attained, the labour becomes more arduous, on account of the thickness and hardness of the mass. This is usually separated into blocks by blasting, in the following way:-A hole, nearly five feet in depth, by three inches in width, is drilled in the rock, vertically; this is filled at the bottom to the height of two or three inches with gunpowder, tightly rammed, and connected with a train on the outside; the train is fired, and an explosion follows, which splits the stone for several yards around into perpendicular rents and fissures. The masses included between these rents sometimes weigh as much as fifty tons; and yet the quarrymen manage to detach them from their places. This is done by means of screw jacks, which are pressed against the mass of stone in convenient positions, and worked by winches. The labour is immense and long.continued, to move the block one single inch ; and when, as often happens, it has to be moved, by similar means, over a rough and crooked road, to a distance of a hundred yards, one can with difficulty conceive that the stone beneath can repay the quarrymen for such exhausting toil.”
tion; and therefore, in devoting another portion of our pages to an account of those places of “ mark and likelihood” remaining to be described, we propose, for the better convenience of the tourist, grouping them in one discursive paper, and thus taking cognizance of the whole together.
Dawlish, now one of the stations of the South Western Railway, is one of the prettiest places along the coast to pass a quiet summer month. Within the last century rising, from a mere fishing village, to the dignity of a fashionable watering place, it has become extended from the valley in which it lies to a considerable distance east and west; and though the incursion of the railroad has materially affected the fine expanse of the esplanade, it still possesses an excellent beach, bounded on the east by the Langstone Cliffs, and on the west by the rocks familiarly known by the appellation of the Parson and the Clerk. The bathing is exceedingly good, and the facilities'afforded for its enjoyment admirably arranged. The houses, built in handsome terraces along the sides of the hill and strand, and fronted by lawns and gardens, are very handsome and picturesque, the majority of them commanding an ample sea view. The parish church is at the upper end of the town, and was partly rebuilt in 1824, being rendered sufficiently commodious to accommodate a congregation of nearly two thousand people. There is a good organ, and a handsome window of stained glass in the interior. The walks and drives in the vicinity of the town are remarkably pretty and interesting, the shady lanes at the back, winding through the declivity of the hills, affording an endless variety of inland and marine scenery. The climate is considered more genial 'even than that of Torquay; but so nearly do these places