THOSE Romans had a catchy way with names.

The long, rocky outcrop that we know today as Filey Brigg they knew as Sinus Salutaris. In Latin the name means something like “protecting the bay”, and the Romans clearly felt the Brigg did exactly that.

In Victorian times, the remains of a Roman fort were found on the Cairn Head, just above the Brigg.

The discovery prompted “considerable excitement in this lovely watering place – the rising Brighton of Yorkshire”, wrote one Dr Pritchard in Volume 3 of the Proceedings Of The Geological And Polytechnic Society of the West Riding of Yorkshire.

An “exploration” was announced for October 12 and 13, 1857, at which “a great number of ladies and gentlemen assembled on the spot to witness the revelation of hidden treasure and ancient relics”.

That “hidden treasure”, which seems to have been exposed when heavy rains dislodged earth from the north side of the cliff, included “portions of charred wood, bones, broken pottery etc”…so perhaps treasure seekers among you needn’t rush there just yet.

Nevertheless, the discovery demonstrated that this lovely fishing port has been a harbour of sorts since at least Roman times. The town’s name today actually comes from the Brigg, according to Mike Hitches, in his book Filey Through Time. “In ancient times, the Brigg was known as ‘The File’, hence the name”, he writes in his introduction.

Filey was an important fishing village long before Grimsby and Hull had become established fishing harbours, Mr Hitches writes. Whole families were involved in the industry. “While the men did the fishing, their wives and children would prepare bait and repair the nets.”

The Filey fishermen were among the first to realise the potential of the railways. The railway reached Filey in 1846, Mr Hitches writes – and by the late 19th century, 160 fish wagons were leaving Filey station daily.

But the railways brought change of another kind, too: in the form of tourism. There was a good reason why, in 1857, Dr Pritchard described the town as “the rising Brighton of Yorkshire.”

Our photographs today, all of which come from Mr Hitches’ book, focus mainly on Filey the seaside town rather than Filey the fishing harbour.

Our first photographs show the institution which brought tourism to Filey; the railway. Or rather, in these photos, the railway station. One dates from what looks like late Victorian times, and shows Filey railway station bedecked with bunting, and with station staff lined up like a reception committee.

“An event is about to take place – the return of troops from the Boer War, perhaps, or a royal visit?” Mr Hitches writes. Sadly, we don’t know: but it’s a lovely, evocative photograph; as is our second picture, which shows station staff at what is probably the very beginning of the 20th century.

Next up, we have a picture from the 1950s, showing holidaymakers relaxing in the sunshine on the promenade in the 1950s – a scene that would be familiar to any Filey-lover today.

And so to Butlins. Until 1983 – when the camp closed, presumably due to competition from cheap foreign holidays – Filey was famously home to one of Billy Butlins’ holiday camps. The camp was begun in the 1930s, following the success of similar establishments at Clacton and Skegness, and completed after the war. Our first Butlins photograph, taken only a few years after the camp opened, shows the interior of the Viennese ballroom.

By the 1950s, the camp was booming. Our final photo shows the famous chalets. Maintaining them and the rest of the camp was a year-round job – so Butlins was a major employer in the town. When it closed in 1983, no fewer than 110 people lost their jobs.

• Filey Through Time by Mike Hitches is published by Amberley, priced £14.99. It can be ordered through bookshops, or is available at a ten per cent discount from the publisher’s website at amberley-books.com .