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I left Manchester and turned my steps in the direction of Coalbrookdale。 I passed through a highly picturesque country； in which I enjoyed the sight of many old timber houses； most attractive subjects for my pencil。 My route lay through Whitchurch； Wem； and Wellington； then past the Wrekin to Coalbrookdale。 Before arriving there I saw the first iron bridge constructed in England； an object of historical interest in that class of structures。 It was because of the superb quality of the castings produced at Coalbrookdale that the ironmasters there were able to accomplish the building of a bridge of that material； which before had baffled all projectors both at home and abroad
I possessed a letter of introduction to the manager； and was received by him most cordially。 He permitted me to examine the works。 I was greatly interested at the sight of the processes of casting。 Many beautiful objects were turned out for architectural； domestic； and other purposes。 I saw nothing particularly novel； however； in the methods and processes of moulding and casting。
The excellence of the work depended for the most part upon the great care and skill exercised by the workmen of the foundry。 They seemed to vie with each other in turning out the best castings； and their models or patterns were made with the utmost care。 I was particularly impressed with the cheerful zeal and activity of the workmen and foremen of this justly celebrated establishment。
On leaving Coalbrookdale I trudged my way towards Wolverhampton。 I rested at Shiffnal for the night。 Next day I was in the middle of the Black Country。 I had no letters of introduction to employers in Wolverhampton； so that； without stopping there； I proceeded at once to Dudley。 The Black Country is anything but picturesque。 The earth seems to have been turned inside out。 Its entrails are strewn about； nearly the entire surface of the ground is covered with cinder…heaps and mounds of scoriae。 The coal which has been drawn from below ground is blazing on the surface。 The district is crowded with iron furnaces； puddling furnaces； and coal…pit engine furnaces。 By day and by night the country is glowing with fire； and the smoke of the ironworks hovers over it。 There is a rumbling and clanking of iron forges and rolling mills。 Workmen covered with smut； and with fierce white eyes； are seen moving about amongst the glowing iron and the dull thud of forge…hammers。 Amidst these flaming； smoky； clanging works； I beheld the remains of what had once been happy farmhouses； now ruined and deserted。 The ground underneath them had sunk by the working out of the coal； and they were falling to pieces。 They had in former times been surrounded by clumps of trees； but only the skeletons of them remained； dead； black； and leafless。 The grass had been parched and killed by the vapours of sulphurous acid thrown out by the chimneys； and every herbaceous object was of a ghastly graythe emblem of vegetable death in its saddest aspect。 Vulcan had driven out Ceres。 In some places I heard a sort of chirruping sound； as of some forlorn bird haunting the ruins of the old farmsteads。 But no！ the chirrup was a vile delusion。 It proceeded from the shrill creaking of the coal…winding chains； which were placed in small tunnels beneath the hedgeless road。
I went into some of the forges to see the workmen at their labours。 There was no need of introduction； the works were open to all； for they were unsurrounded by walls。 I saw the white…hot iron run out from the furnace； I saw it spun； as it were； into bars and iron ribbands； with an ease and rapidity which seemed marvellous。 There were also the ponderous hammers and clanking rolling…mills。 I wandered from one to another without restraint。 I lingered among the blast furnaces； seeing the flood of molten iron run out from time to time； and remained there until it was late。 When it became dark the scene was still more impressive。 The workmen within seemed to be running about amidst the flames as in a pandemonium； while around and outside the horizon was a glowing belt of fire； making even the stars look pale and feeble。 At last I came away with reluctance； and made my way towards Dudley。 I reached the town at a late hour。 I was exhausted in mind and body； yet the day had been most interesting and exciting。 A sound sleep refreshed me； and I was up in the morning early； to recommence my journey of inquiry；
I made my way to the impressive ruins of Dudley Castle； the remnant of a very ancient stronghold； originally built by Dud； the Saxon。 The castle is situated on a finely wooded hill； it is so extensive that it more resembles the ruins of a town than of a single building。 You enter through a treble gateway； and see the remnants of the moat； the court； and the keep。 Here are the central hall； the guard； rooms； and the chapel。 It must have been a magnificent structure。 In the Midlands it was known as the 〃Castle of the Woods〃 Now it is abandoned by its owners； and surrounded by the Black Country。 It is undermined by collieries； and even penetrated by a canal。 The castle walls sometimes tremble when a blast occurs in the bowels of the mountain beneath。 The town of Dudley lies quite close to the castle； and was doubtless protected by it in ancient times。
The architectural remains are of various degrees of antiquity； and are well worthy of study； as embodying the successive periods which they represent。 Their melancholy grandeur is rendered all the more impressive by the coal and iron works with which they are surrounded the olden type of buildings confronting the modern。 The venerable trees struggle for existence under the destroying influence of sulphurous acid； while the grass is withered and the vegetation everywhere blighted。 I sat down on an elevated part of the ruins； and looked down upon the extensive district； with its roaring and blazing furnaces； the smoke of which blackened the country as far as the eye could reach； and as I watched the decaying trees I thought of the price we had to pay for our vaunted supremacy in the manufacture of iron。 We may fill our purses； but we pay a heavy price for it in the loss of picturesqueness and beauty。 I left the castle with reluctance； and proceeded to inspect the limestone quarries in the neighbourhood。 The limestone has long been worked out from underneath the castle； but not far from it is Wren's Nest Hill； a mountain of limestone。 The wrens have left； but the quarries are there。 The walk to the hill is along green lanes and over quiet fields。 I entered one of the quarries opened out in the sloping precipice； and penetrated as far as the glimmer of sunlight enabled me to see my way。 But the sound of the dripping of water from the root of the cave warned me that I was approaching some deep pool； into which a false step might plunge me。 I therefore kept within the light of day。 An occasional ray of the sun lit up the enormous rock pillars which the quarrymen had left to support the roof。 It was a most impressive sight。
Having emerged from the subterranean cave； I proceeded on my way to Birmingham。 I reached the town in the evening； and found most comfortable quarters。 On the following