Nature and Art, January 1, 1867.] 
FLAMBOEOUGH HEAD. 
7 
them, and the rains and frosts of winter cause land- 
slips, breaking off great masses from the top. Thus 
the land gradually recedes, and the sea marches 
forward at the computed average rate of two yards 
and a half in a year. Thus, it is said, two miles 
have disappeared since the Roman occupation of 
Yorkshire, one since the Norman conquest. In old 
maps of the county, villages are marked, the sites 
of which are now buried “ many a fathom deep,” 
and nothing but their names remain to testify that 
once man lived there. Not far from the present 
Spurn Point stood the ancient town of “ Raven- 
spurn,” a place of considerable importance at a 
period when Hull was a poor fishing village. Ed- 
ward IY. landed there in 1471 ; but Ravenspurn, 
like many another long-lost Yorkshire village, has 
left scarce a tradition to mark its site. 
The Plamborough promontory is composed en- 
tirely of close-grained chalk rock, containing layers 
of flints. It is the northern extremity of that great 
reef-like chain of hills which, commencing on the 
south coast of England at Beer Head, runs north- 
eastward through Suffolk and Norfolk, crops out 
prominently again in the Lincolnshire and York- 
shire wolds, and finally tei'minates in the sea at 
Plamborough. 
The mass of chalk which composes the headland 
is capped with an immense thickness of the “Boulder 
clay,” and this clay contains fragments of nearly all 
the older rocks, from the immense “boulder-stones” 
to the small rounded water’-worn pebble, ages since 
floated down on the glacial sea from the mountains 
of Cumbria and the far north, before the “ "Wold” 
hills had finally emerged from the water. As we 
walk along the cliff top towards Sewerby, we see how 
last winter’s storms and frosts have detached large 
masses of clay and gravel, which lie in great dis- 
jointed masses on the shore. These landslips are 
already covered with vegetation. Amongst the 
plants most conspicuous are the “Bladder Campion” 
and jungle-like patches of the “ G-iant Horse-tail.” 
Two miles north of Bridlington the chalk rock first 
shows itself above the level of the coast, and from 
this point the cliffs gradually increase in height till 
we reach the head, and thence to Speeton, where 
they reach their greatest altitude, 436 feet above 
high-water mark. 
Opposite Sewerby Hall the footpath turns across 
the fields in the direction of the village; but, regard- 
less of the notice which informs us that “ all tres- 
passers will be prosecuted,” let us keep straight 
forward. How glorious is the view this fine 
summer’s morning ! Early as we ai’e, others are 
out before us, for the mackerel season has com- 
menced and the boats are out in the bay, with all 
hands busily employed in line-fishing. Far to the 
south we see the long line of the Yorkshire coast, 
till it is lost in the distance beyond Hornsea. From 
our elevated position we are able to form some idea 
of the encroachments of the sea, from the time when 
the coast-line was probably level with the extreme 
point of the headland. 
These sand cliffs are a favourite resort of the Sand 
Martin, as those small mouse-coloured swallow-like 
birds are called which are continually passing and 
repassing us as we walk along. 
There is one of their colonies. Yousee the holes 
are bored in a narrow vein of sand, running between 
the chalk and “ boulder ” clay. These holes they 
excavate with their sharp beak and claws, occa- 
sionally to the depth of two or three feet, and at 
the further extremity they deposit four or five pure 
white eggs, in a nest made of hay and feathers. 
And we may conclude that they will succeed in 
bringing off their young in safety, for those holes 
are placed in such a totally inaccessible position as 
to defy the attempts of the most persevering bird- 
nester. 
But what is that little bird with the bluish grey- 
coloured back, black and 'white tail, and the dark 
streak through the eye, which keeps flitting before 
us from one stone to another, jerking its tail up and 
down when it alights, and then flying forward 
twenty or thirty yards, perching on a stone, and 
going through the same performance 1 It is the 
Wheatear, a summer visitant to this country. We 
should probably find its nest carefully concealed 
under some of those large stones which project 
from the clay, and from under which the soil is 
partly worked away. It is constructed of hay, wool, 
moss, and hair, and contains five or six pale blue- 
green eggs. Formerly hundreds of these little 
birds were taken with horse-hair nooses by the 
shepherds on the south-country downs, and sold 
as an article of food. 
We now come to a sudden break in the cliffs, 
the termination of a deep natural valley, which 
runs inland, gradually decreasing in depth, and 
thus trending upwards till lost in the central high- 
land. The crest of the opposite hill is crowned by 
a low and somewhat broken embankment, the 
famous “ Danes’ Dyke;” for to the Danes does 
popular tradition ascribe this remarkable work, 
although it is probably of much older date. 
Whoever were the original constructors of the 
embankment took advantage of the natural for- 
mation of the country, and used this deep and 
narrow ravine as a fosse to protect the salient face 
of the work. This valley runs in a line leading 
nearly directly across the promontory, and about a 
mile and a quarter from its southern termination 
is lost in the “ Wold.” From this point the em- 
bankment is made much stronger, and protected in 
front by a deep artificial ditch, from which the soil 
has been taken to form the earthworks, still, 
however, taking advantage of any natural variation 
in the surrounding country which might add to its 
strength. Even now in most places, and after the 
lapse of so many centuries, the work of the original 
labourers remains so pei'fect, that, well manned, it 
would present a serious obstacle to the advance 
of an enemy. The northern termination of the 
“ dyke” is on the opposite side of the promontory, 
and it is there carried to the very brink of a preci- 
pice 300 feet deep ; so that the flank could not be 
turned except by sea. It is the lines of Torres 
Vedras on a small scale. The total length of the 
“ Danes’ Dyke ” is about three miles from coast to 
