AMONG THE FENS.AMONG THE FENS.
AMONG THE FENS.
With the progress of cultivation the peculiar flora and fauna are gradually disappearing. The bittern, the spoonbill, the crane, and the wild swan, are becoming rare visitants, the ruffs and reeves, once so common, are now scarce; the decoys are falling into disuse, and the strange unearthly cry of the wild fowl less often breaks the frozen silence of the winter night; but if this is a loss to the naturalist and the sportsman, there is a gain to the labourer and the farmer. Ague and marsh fever have all but disappeared. Though the fenland is less wild and strange than in days of yore, he who has gazed in the early autumn from one of the high church towers over the vast expanse has seen a sight which he will never forget, for all around the endless fields of grain
“Are like a golden ocean,Becalmed upon the plain.”
“Are like a golden ocean,Becalmed upon the plain.”
“Are like a golden ocean,
Becalmed upon the plain.”
A word must be said of the fenland towns. Wisbeach claims to be the metropolis. Built upon the Nen, which is navigable up to it for vessels of moderate tonnage, and a prosperous town, it has little of special interest besides its principal church, for its castle has practically disappeared. Spalding, also a bright and thriving place, among shady trees; and King’s Lynn, at the mouth of the Ouse, with a fine church, an old Guildhall, and the curious pilgrimage chapel of the Red Mount—claim more than mention. Nor must we forget the once mighty Abbey of Crowland, that grey broken ruin which towers still so grandly over the fens, or its singular triangular bridge, or the memories of St. Guthlac and of Waltheof.
T. G. Bonney.
A NORFOLK BROAD.A NORFOLK BROAD.
A NORFOLK BROAD.
The Crouch: Foulness—Little Barsted and Langdon—Canewdon—Rayleigh—Hockley Spa.The Blackwater: Saffron Walden—Radwinter—Cadham Hall and Butler—Booking—Braintree—Felix Hall—Braxted Lodge—Tiptree-Maldon.The Chelmer: Thaxted—The Dunmows—Great Waltham—Springfield—Chelmsford—Mersea Island.The Colne: Great Yeldham—Castle Hedingham—Halstead—Colchester.The Stour: Kedington—Sudbury—Flatford and John Constable—Harwich.The Orwell: Stowmarket—Barham—Ipswich.The Deben: Debenham—Woodbridge—Felixstowe.The Alde: Aldborough—Southwold—Halesworth.The Waveney: Diss—Bungay—Mettingham—Beccles—Breydon Water—Horsey Mere.The Bure: Hickling Broads—St. Benet’s Abbey—Salhouse and Wroxham Broads—Hoverton Great Broad—Horning Ferry—Fishing in the Broads.The Yare: Norwich—Yarmouth.
Coot on the Broads
Afterthe Medway and the Thames have delivered their great contributions to the sea, the peculiar Essex coast country—flat, marshy, and often very uninteresting—is sufficiently served by a number of small streams of little note in literature, and generally as commonplace in appearance as in the duties they perform. There are exceptions, which will be duly indicated, but with regard to the majority of the streams of East Anglia, poet has not sung nor painter wrought his magic art. If not remote, unfriended, or melancholy, they are, it cannot be denied, slow. During the hot summer-time, when the level fields through which they meander are quivering with heat-haze, and the pastures and hedgerows are ablaze with the wildflowers which love fat pastures and flourish upon them, the upper waters are choked with luxuriant tangles of aquatic vegetation, and the current is barely sufficient, without the frequent application of scythe and water-rake to the thickets below water, to turn the rustic mills planted upon their banks. The dainty trout loves not the muddy beds and lazy flow of these rivers, which will be found to be much more numerous than is commonly supposed; but the waters are the natural home of the eel, pike, roach, bream, and other specimens of the so-called coarse fishes, or summer spawners, of Great Britain. A purely pastoral country is that watered by these narrow reed-margined rivers, famous for grain, roots, and grassy acres, with good soil where the solid earth lies so low that the hand of man must perforce sometimes exert itself to save it from the inroads of the salt sea. Let us follow the coast-line from the north shore of the Thames, abounding in marshes that have been so well described by Dickens in “Great Expectations,” and by the author of “Mehalah” in his novels.
The first river is theCrouch, whose estuary is still the groundwork of a remunerative oyster fishery. Anything more dreary than the shores of this long and gaping river-mouth can scarcely be imagined. The beacons out at sea tell the tale of danger, and point to the dread Maplin sands, and the treacherous shoals that culminate in the fatal Goodwins. True, upon Foulness the tenants of Lord Winchilsea most successfully reclaimed a space of forbidding foreshore from the sea, but as a rule these expanses yield little better than coarse marsh grass, wild fowl, and everlasting salt; and the island of Foulness, which is formed by the curvature of one of the smaller channels, half river and half creek, that abound in these parts, is the oasis of this marshy desert. Yet the church on the island, which was built less than forty years ago, occupies the site of one which was founded in the twelfth century, and the Danes, as every schoolboy is taught, built themselves forts hard-by, and made camps that have left their landmarks to this day. At high water the Crouch estuary is a pleasant enough arm of the sea, and as the river is navigable for brigs of respectable tonnage at Burnham, and for smaller craft to Fambridge Ferry, the ruddy and white-sailed boats impart a refreshing liveliness to the scene. Especially is this the case when the little fleet of oyster boats are on active service.
CADHAM HALL: PORTRAIT OF SAMUEL BUTLER.CADHAM HALL: PORTRAIT OF SAMUEL BUTLER.
CADHAM HALL: PORTRAIT OF SAMUEL BUTLER.
The Crouch rises from a couple of springs in Little Bursted and Langdon, the district lying between the high and picturesque uplands of these parts, Billericay (where the Romans had a station) and Langdon Hill. A small stream for a while, the Crouch passes several villages, the branches joining forces at Ramsden Crays; it becomes navigable for barges at Battle Bridge, and for sea-going brigs and schooners at Hull Bridge, near which place the scenery is pretty and undulating. From North Fambridge, however, the normal marsh-land of the estuary begins to assert itself, and Burnham is to all intents and purposes the seaport of this portion of the Hundreds—a local term applying to the aguish levels between the Crouch and the Colne, which latter stream will presently engage our attention. Before leavingthe Crouch, however, the village of Canewdon should be mentioned, as being well situated above the flats, and as being in the neighbourhood of a battlefield upon which Canute defeated Edmund Ironside. The discovery of relics from time to time shows that the Romans as well as the Danes were located on the shores of the Crouch, and the ancient village of Rayleigh is claimed to have been the home of the Saxon. The mineral waters of Hockley Spa are credited with peculiar virtues, and the place is in consequence growing in importance.
TheBlackwater, sometimes called the Pant, which is the next river as we proceed northwards, waters a pleasant, flourishing, and populous part of the county of Essex. It is the kind of landscape that delights the agriculturist, and that gives to rural England its distinctive charm, its combination of pasture and arable land, wood and water, village and town. The Blackwater rises near the borders of Cambridge, not far from Saffron Walden, the wooded slope of the Saxon, the strategic position upon which the Britons had formed an ancient encampment, andGeoffrey de Mandeville built his castle in the early days of the Norman Conquest; the place where in more recent times the cultivation of the saffron suggested a suitable prefix to “Weald den.” The tower and spire of Radwinter Church forms a conspicuous object from the surrounding country, but the church has been restored and enlarged in our own times. Here, towards the close of the sixteenth century, Robert Harrison, the author of the “Decay of the English Long Bow,” and an historical description of the “Land of Britaine,” was rector. Lower down the river, in the village church of Hempstead, a monument stands to the memory of William Harvey, the discoverer of the circulation of the blood, but the hall where Harvey’s brother Eliab resided no longer exists. Butler is said to have written the greater part of “Hudibras” at Cadham Hall, below Shalford; and at Finchingfield, on a hilly site near a tributary of the main stream, Spains Hall, an Early Tudoresque mansion in a fine park, represents the free hand of the Conqueror, who gave the estate to one of his Normans.
MALDON.MALDON.
MALDON.
Bocking Church, as we descend the river, now running almost due south, stands high, and is of some note as a building of the time of Edward III., in which ministered the Dr. Gauden who, in the opinion of some of the authorities, was the author ofEikon Basilike. Bocking is virtually an outlying suburb of the neat market town of Braintree, where a colony of Flemings, settling in the time of Elizabeth, founded the weaving establishments which, with ironworks, corn mills, and malting-houses, maintain the present population in general prosperity.The vale and park of Stisted succeed, and by-and-bye the old-fashioned little town of Coggeshall, partly covering the rising ground of one of the river banks. Weaving is still carried on, though not to the extent of former days, when the town was a valuable centre of the woollen manufacture; and of the Cistercian Abbey founded by Stephen and Maud nothing remains but an antiquated barn appropriating portions of the ruins. John Owen, chaplain to Oliver Cromwell, was born at Coggeshall; and Bishop Bonner probably resided at Feering Bury Manor House, by the village of Feering, nearer Kelvedon, where the Blackwater is crossed by a strong, handsome bridge. Felix Hall is the show-place of the neighbourhood, and its noble park and the works of art contained in the mansion attract numerous visitors. Another beautiful specimen of “the stately homes of England” is Braxted Lodge, perched upon an eminence, with commanding views of one of the most richly cultivated prospects to be found in all Essex, and including, amongst the landscape features of the lovely demesne, a lake some twenty acres in extent. Tiptree, once a notable waste, boasting of nothing but heath, within the memory of living man became even more notable as Tiptree Hall Farm, which was created out of most unpromising materials into a model homestead by the late Mr. Alderman Mechi, a scientific agriculturist who expended large sums of money in machinery for the treatment of sewage and irrigation. The town of Witham, on the further side, stands on the tributary Brain.
MAP OF THE EAST ANGLIAN RIVERS.MAP OF THE EAST ANGLIAN RIVERS.
MAP OF THE EAST ANGLIAN RIVERS.
The borough and seaport of Maldon, marking the junction of the Chelmer with the Blackwater, stands at the head of a long, uninteresting, marshy estuary of the same pattern as that of the Crouch, and extending a dozen miles before the open sea is reached. Camden infers that Camalodunum was on the site of Maldon, and another historical tradition is that Edward the Elder encamped here to oppose the invasion of the Danes. Local antiquarians point to remnants of the ancient encampment, and assert that though at first the Danes were beaten back, Unlaf in 993 sailed hither and successfully led his Vikings to the rout of the Saxons and capture of the station. Landseer, the painter, lived at Maldon in the early part of his artistic career, and many of his drawings have been preserved in the town and neighbourhood. The Royal Academician Herbert was a native of the town.
The riverChelmerhas been referred to as a tributary of the Blackwater, but it is a navigable river on its own account, and brings the county town, by means of an improved canal system, into communication with Maldon and the sea. Though in the meadows above Chelmsford it, from a not excessive distance, looks but a silver thread trailed across the grass, it has a distinct value in the commerce of the county. Thaxted, near which it takes its rise, is a typical specimen of the decayed country town that, once of some importance, has been left to sleepiness by the march of progress, which somehow passed it by. Its fourteenth century church, with massive tower and lofty octagonal spire, is amongst the finest in a country where good churches are plentiful. Horham Hall was a residence of Queen Elizabeth before she came to the throne; and the pleasantly situated village of Tilty, in the valley of the Chelmer, environed by hills and graced by a wood along the banks, boasts the remains of a Cistercian Abbey dating from the middle of the twelfth century. Easton Park is in the valley; its fine old Elizabethan mansion is in good preservation, and the church contains many interesting memorials of the Maynards, who have long been in possession of the estate. Great Dunmow is the next place touched in our downward course, a comfortable town set upon a hill, with a charming suburb thrown out to the river bank. In the neighbourhood, but on the other side of the stream, is Little Dunmow, associated with the memories of the Fitzwalters, one of whom is credited with the famous bequest of a flitch of bacon to any married couple who could prove that for twelve months and a day they had lived in perfect harmony. The custom of awarding the flitch has been almost forgotten, though Ainsworth made a gallant attempt to revive it, and the prize was claimed as recently as 1876. It was first offered by Robert de Fitzwalter in 1244, the actual conditions being “That whatever married couple will go to the Priory, and kneeling on two sharp-pointed stones will swear that they have not quarrelled nor repented of their marriage within a year and a day after its celebration, shall receive a flitch of bacon.” Whether the people of the generations past felt the conditions impossible, or treated the affair as a farce,no one may decide, but it is remarkable that the first prize was not claimed until two hundred years after it was established. Up to 1751 only five flitches had been won, and there have been two since. The parish church of Little Dunmow owes its fine columns, richly carved capitals, and windows, to what is left of the Priory Church of the Augustinian establishment founded in 1104.
Onwards through farms and parks, with many a hamlet and village rich in relics of the Middle Ages, the Chelmer flows, laving no land more fair in its disposition of deer parks, woods, lawns, and mansions, than that around the village of Great Waltham. An excellent view of the valley, the river, and a widespread scene which includes the town of Chelmsford, is obtained from Springfield Hall. The village of Springfield is one of many in England which are said to have given Goldsmith the theme of his
“Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid,And parting Summer’s lingering blooms delayed.”
“Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid,And parting Summer’s lingering blooms delayed.”
“Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,
Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid,
And parting Summer’s lingering blooms delayed.”
Had the poet been standing on any of the eminences from which on every side the wayfarer seems to descend upon Chelmsford, he might have noted all the points which are so sweetly made in “The Deserted Village;” but the same remark would apply to many a spot in many an English county. Yet the following lines do chance to answer with happy accuracy to the Springfield outlook:—
“How often have I paused on every charm—The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whispering lovers made.”
“How often have I paused on every charm—The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whispering lovers made.”
“How often have I paused on every charm—
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,
The hawthorn bush with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made.”
But Springfield is in these days a portion of Chelmsford, from which it is separated by the Chelmer and the smaller Cann, both crossed by bridges. Chelmsford is one of the characteristic county towns of the smaller type (its population is about 12,000), which thrive in a centre of agricultural activity. The attempts made to restore to the town the privileges of a borough were at last successful, as it was strange they were not before, for though it sent four members to the Council at Westminster in the time of Edward III., it was at last the only county town in England, except the little capital of Rutlandshire, that was not a borough. With its markets and fairs as important periodical events, the Corn Exchange may be regarded as in some respects the principal building, though a more imposing edifice is the older Shire Hall, in which the assizes are held, and in which, so recently as 1879, a precious discovery of ancient documents was made in one of the upper rooms. The papers related to matters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and comprised records of the persecutions of Episcopalians, Catholics, and Nonconformists, and of punishments, in which the communityenjoyed some notoriety, for witchcraft. Chief Justice Tindal was one of the worthies of Chelmsford, and his name is inscribed upon the elegant conduit in the market-place. The Chelmer, as already stated, becomes an established navigation from the county town, and continues its course to the east. The most noticeable feature of the north side of the vale is Boreham House, with its park, avenues of trees, water, and tastefully laid-out gardens. In the parish is New Hall, an educational establishment, on the site of Henry VIII.’s palace of Beaulieu, and used subsequently as a residence by Monk, when Duke of Albemarle. The modern visitor is shown the sculptured initials, with love-knots, of bluff King Hal and Anne Boleyn. To the west of Ulting church, the Chelmer receives the Ter, fresh from the well-wooded park of Terbury Place. Considerably increased in volume by this addition, it hastens to Maldon and its confluence with the Blackwater.
THE SHIRE HALL, CHELMSFORD.THE SHIRE HALL, CHELMSFORD.
THE SHIRE HALL, CHELMSFORD.
In discharging its waters at the termination of its long estuary, the Blackwater, with the Chelmer in union, sweeps along the southern shore of a charming little island in the bay between St. Peter-on-the-Wall and Colne Point. This is Mersea Island, five miles long from east to west, and three miles at its widest portion. The oysters which have made Whitstable famous have good breedingground in Pyefleet—the creek, passable at low water, which separates the mainland from this prettily wooded and verdant isle, with a bold front to the North Sea. In common with all the coast from Southend to Harwich, the foreshores at low water present a melancholy expanse of ooze, upon which the sea-birds may forage without fear of the approach of man. But while at its lower end Mersea Island faces the outflow of the rivers we have been considering, its upper shores are in a similar position with regard to the Colne, which will next engage our attention.
Of the four rivers of this name in England three are spelt with the final “e,” and this stream in the north-eastern portion of the county is often described as the EssexColneto distinguish it from its namesake, which is a tributary of the Thames. Rising near Moynes Park, the river pursues a south-easterly course to Great Yeldham, a village embowered in trees, amongst which must be reckoned, as of particular account, the gnarled oak, of which the inhabitants are not a little proud. A larger village is Castle Hedingham, standing upon its breezy acclivity, and favoured with a delightful prospect of highly cultivated valley. What remains of the Castle which gave name to the place is in grand condition, the great tower or keep, with its stupendously solid walls, standing almost externally entire upon its turfy mound. The Norman masonry is square and lofty, with walls twelve feet in thickness, and the keep, as a whole, is 100 feet high. So well preserved is the structure, that the grooves for the portcullis in the gateway facing the west might still be used for their original purpose.
Halstead, lower down the widening river, is doubtless what its name signifies, a healthy place, covering the gentle ascent from the stream. The market is one of the oldest in the country, and for many years the population has prosecuted the trade of straw-plaiting, and manufactures of silk and crape. A tributary feeds the Colne from the extensive lake of 100 acres in the park of Gosfield Hall, three miles below Halstead. Gosfield Hall was the seat of the Nugents, one of whom wrote the life of Hampden, and it afterwards came into the hands of the Marquis of Buckingham. Four villages, three on the left and one on the right, take a portion of their name from the stream:—Colne Engaine, so called from its ancient lords of the manor; Earls Colne, once the residence of the Earls of Oxford; White Colne, a modern rendering of Colne-le-Blanc; and Wakes Colne. This is the Colne village near which, at Chappell, the valley is crossed by the Stour Valley railway viaduct, 1,000 feet in length, and 80 feet above the level of the stream.
By the villages of Fordham, West Bergholt, and Lexden, the river at length, by devious ways, arrives at Colchester, the largest town in Essex, the ancient fortified post which historians nominate the capital of the Trinobantes; and Mr. J. H. Round, who has written a history of Colchester Castle, identifies the town with the British Camalodunum. A similar honour, as we have seen, has beenclaimed for Maldon on the Blackwater. This “hill-town at the bend of the river” has figured often in history, and the relics exhibited in the Colchester Museum, and the writings of early historians, sufficiently warrant us in beginning with the Romans. The number of remains unearthed at Colchester has been enormous, and Romans, Saxons, and Danes, in succession, occupied this valuable position on the eastern coast. It became the point of contention in civil war, sent ships and men to Edward III., was visited by both Mary and Elizabeth, and was a staunch contributor of men and money to the Parliament against Charles I.
The river Colne, to which Colchester owes so much of its importance past and present, is navigable to Hythe, where the newest bridge, a construction of iron, replaced a brick bridge which was washed away by a winter flood in 1876. North Bridge is also an iron structure, and East Bridge, with its five arches, is of brick. The public buildings of Colchester are handsome and mostly modern, and the business of the place has been much increased since the extension of Colchester Camp as the headquarters of the Eastern Military District. The picturesque portion of the town must be looked for on the high ground where stand the remains of the Castle, supposed to have been built by the Romans. The monastic ruins in the town are also of more than common interest. The river Colne, widening as it goes, passes Wivenhoe Park, receiving a small tributary called the Roman river, and henceforth it is an estuary proper, with salt water, fishing-boats, oyster-beds, and marshes intersected by creeks dear to the wild-fowler. One of the best known landmarks for the incoming mariner is the tall tower of the church of the fishing village of Brightlingsea.
1. MILL ON THE COLNE. 2. HIGH STREET, COLCHESTER.1. MILL ON THE COLNE. 2. HIGH STREET, COLCHESTER.
1. MILL ON THE COLNE. 2. HIGH STREET, COLCHESTER.
Dividing for some distance the counties of Essex and Suffolk, next in order comes theStour, born upon the borders of the adjoining county of Cambridge, and running an almost parallel course with the Colne, but longer. Three brooks contend for the reputation of starting the Stour upon its journey, and the matter is not placed beyond dispute until the three become one. The river begins to act as a county boundary at Kedington, where Archbishop Tillotson was rector at the time of the Commonwealth. Birdbrook and Whitley, Baythorn Park and Stoke College, the village which gave a name to the Cavendishes, the old hall of Pentlow, the village of Long Melford, with Melford Hall and Kentwell Hall, and Liston Park opposite, bring us, with a curve of the river, to the borough town of Sudbury, the birthplace of the painter Gainsborough, and the point from whence the Stour becomes navigable. With smaller villages in close succession planted along its course, the Stour at Higham is joined by the Bret, and the district between Higham and the town of Manningtree is the veritable country which inspired in the heart of John Constable a love for rural scenes, and stored his mind with the knowledge which in after life served him so well. The artist was never tired of saying that these soft pastoral landscapes in the Stour valley made him a painter. He was born at East Bergholt, and numbers of his pictureswere actually representations of scenes at Flatford. The flocks and herds, the swelling uplands at different periods of the year, the shade of the woods, the sunlight on the corn, the dripping waterwheel, the cottage, and the church—they are still the common objects of the country on either side of the river. At Manningtree the Stour is lost in the sea long ere it arrives at the thriving port of Harwich, where the channel is commanded by a port on either side, and vessels are directed by a couple of lighthouses, one of which is a lofty erection surmounted by a powerful lantern. A new town, the watering-place of Dovercourt, which in all probability has a future before it, is growing up a near neighbour to Harwich.
If the Stour has its Harwich, the riverOrwell, which farther north joins the same estuary, has its Ipswich; and while the name of Constable has been mentioned in connection with the former, that of Crabbe belongs to the latter. The river, risingnear the village of Gipping, is generally known to the country people by that name in its freshwater course; and it is formed by three small tributaries which become united near Stowmarket, the ancient county town of Suffolk. This town, celebrated in these later days for the manufacture of the new explosives, fed the fire of genius in former times, for hither came Milton to visit his tutor Young, and until modern times a mulberry tree in the vicarage garden was called the Milton tree. George Crabbe received the rudiments of his education at Stowmarket. The river subsequently passes Needham Market, and a number of country seats and villages; Barham being the parish where Kirby, the entomologist, lived for more than half a century pursuing his patient and successful studies. The stream is navigable to Stowmarket, and in the channel between that town and Ipswich there is a total descent of ninety-three feet, with fifteen locks in a distance of about sixteen miles. It is not until the river approaches the tidal end that it is termed the Orwell.
ON THE ORWELL AT IPSWICH.ON THE ORWELL AT IPSWICH.
ON THE ORWELL AT IPSWICH.
Ipswich is well situated on rising ground with a southern aspect, and Gainsborough, who lived here, and Constable, who knew it well, thought highly of the district of which it is the capital. Constable said of it, “It is a most delightful county for a painter. I fancy I see Gainsborough in every hedge and hollow tree.” Ipswich in many a quaint corner and irregular street gives evidences ofits age. The merry dog Rochester, boon companion of a merry king, saw Ipswich once in the small hours of the morning, and described it as a town without people on the banks of a river without water. The tide was out at that time, and the banks of the Orwell are to this day a marvellous acreage of muddy foreshore at low water. But Ipswich has always been a prosperous town, and its leading inhabitants flourishing men of mark. In these days it is the headquarters of agricultural implement manufacture, sending labour-saving machinery to all parts of the world. The busy ironworks extend along both banks of the river. New docks are established where a new cut has been made to serve them. Ocean-going ships and fleets of “billy-boys” from Goole and elsewhere lie along the wharves. Public buildings, in a fine modern group, attest the progress of Ipswich with the advancing times. Even the Grammar School, one of Queen Elizabeth’s foundations, has been reared in the newer town. The wealthy merchants, trading with the Continent, used to live in the midst of the people on the lower land; their villas now stud the heights overlooking the river. Yet here and there an antique chimney, an old-world doorway, indicate where the solid old houses once stood. In the Butter Market there is a marvellous piece of ancient architecture, a house front quaintly timbered and embellished with carvings chiselled centuries ago; and the inhabitants love to believe that this is one of the numerous houses in England in which Charles the Second hid from those who sought his life. Also is the visitor taken to see a gate through which it is affirmed entrance was obtained to Cardinal Wolsey’s cottage. The Ipswich of to-day, however, with its water and steam mills, its export business in boots and shoes, its great ironworks, is, in East Anglia, the conspicuous type of go-aheadness, and when the Orwell is at high tide the outlook from the heights is of extreme beauty. The estuary then is a lovely stretch of scenery; gently rising hills laid out with grounds and country seats, diversified by woods and high cultivation, appear on either side, and the estuary from grassy shore to grassy shore is covered with water, dotted with white-sailed yachts and craft of more serious order.
The riverDebenruns in a parallel direction with the Orwell, rising a short distance northward of Debenham, becoming navigable at Woodbridge (where Crabbe learnt surgery), and making estuary near Felixstowe, the favourite watering-place of southern Suffolk. Bernard Barton, the Quaker poet, thus grandiloquently described the section of the coast:—
“On that shore where the waters of Orwell and DebenJoin the dark heaving ocean, that spot may be found:A scene which recalls the lost beauties of Eden,And which Fancy might hail as her own fairy ground.”
“On that shore where the waters of Orwell and DebenJoin the dark heaving ocean, that spot may be found:A scene which recalls the lost beauties of Eden,And which Fancy might hail as her own fairy ground.”
“On that shore where the waters of Orwell and Deben
Join the dark heaving ocean, that spot may be found:
A scene which recalls the lost beauties of Eden,
And which Fancy might hail as her own fairy ground.”
The poet Crabbe, to whom passing reference has been already made, was born at Aldborough, the quiet seaside town which receives its name from the little riverAlde, and which was the subject of the poem “The Borough.” The streampasses close to the town, but instead of making for the sea close by, turns abruptly south, and follows the line of the coast, within sound of the ocean, for several miles, past Orford, to Hollesley Bay. North of Aldborough is Southwold at the mouth of the river Blythe, another minor stream, navigable to Halesworth, a picturesquely situated town below Hevingham.
A district in many respects quite unique meets us at the estuary which is marked on the maps, though scarcely known by the country folk, as Lake Lothing, this being, in point of fact, an estuary harbour a little south of Lowestoft railway station. Following the coast northward, past Great Yarmouth, and up to a trifle beyond Cromer, we have that extremely interesting district known as the East Anglian Broads, which have now become one of the most popular summer resorts for boating and fishing men, and a well-frequented haunt of the wild-fowler who is not afraid to brave the bitter winds of winter, cruising over the great watery wastes in search of the game which can be found in such quantities in this part of the country. Till within a comparatively few years this extraordinary network of waterways connecting freshwater lakes was comparatively little known, but the increase of railway communication, and the spread of knowledge consequent upon the multiplication of cheap literature and the new departure taken by the daily press, brought the rivers and broads of both Norfolk and Suffolk before the public. Now for months together wherries and yachts peculiar to the locality sail by day and anchor at night upon the Broads; and camping-out parties may be encountered at all the villages connected therewith. This may also be described as savouring of Dutch-land, the salient features of which are in some wise reproduced here in our own country. Although elsewhere changes are continually taking place in the habits and customs of the people, and often in the aspect of the country, the Broads so far remain unaltered.
The rivers are characterised by a slow rate of speed. Many of them for miles together resemble canals in the appearance of their banks, and in their tardy, discoloured currents. It is difficult sometimes to imagine that the sheets of water are connected with them at all, but, as the name Broad would indicate, the apparent lakes are nothing but openings-out of the waterways, which sooner or later send their contents to the sea. There are two or three exceptions, which will be pointed out, but the Broads are for the most part fed by such rivers as the Bure and the Yare. The southernmost river is theWaveney, which at first runs from west to east, until it approaches within a few miles of the estuary above named. Then, however, it takes an arbitrary turn northwards, gives the go-by to Lowestoft, and, joining the river Yare at Breydon Water, empties itself into the sea outside of Gorleston Pier.
HARWICH: THE QUAY.HARWICH: THE QUAY.
HARWICH: THE QUAY.
The Waveney, one of the largest of the Norfolk rivers, waters both Norfolk and Suffolk. The talented Agnes Strickland, who wrote of the Queens ofEngland, calls this river the sweet stream of her childhood, and in its upper part it certainly does merit that somewhat poetical description. It rises from springs near Lopham Gate, and the little Ouse, which takes a contrary direction, is also born in the same neighbourhood. The first town on the banks of this river is Diss, which is very prettily situated on high ground, with a considerable lake with steep banks on the eastern side. The little river called the Dove, which passes the borough of Eye, joins the Waveney. The town of Harleston is near the Waveney proper, and at Bungay, on the borders of Norfolk and Suffolk, wherethe river describes a curious loop towards the village of Ditchingham, the Broads district is held to have its south-western boundary. There are no Broads, however, near, but the tourists who hire their wherries and make water parties for periods of weeks and months frequently push on to this point. The ruins of Bungay Castle remind us of the old days when Barons held their sway, and there is a parish church which was once connected with a nunnery.
For the most part, the Broads district is a dead level that becomes monotonous until one gets accustomed to its quietude and freedom. But occasionally there is an exception to the rule, and we have an example at Mettingham, a portion of which parish spreads over a range of hills, upon which are the remains of a castle. Sir John Suckling, the poet, was lord of the manor in the parish of Barham, which has its Hall some distance from the river, and a stretch of marshes bordering it. The mother of Nelson, and Captain Suckling, his uncle, were both born in the Rectory House of Barham. Beccles, with its fen to the north, its racecourse to the right, and the Gillingham marshes on the other side of the river, are important stations connected with the line from Lowestoft and Yarmouth. Beccles was a favourite resort of the poet Crabbe. This little town is finely situated on a promontory, giving a pleasant view of the broad valley, with villages and country houses dotted along its banks.
In its northward course the Waveney passes Somerleyton station, then St. Olaves, and finally, running parallel with the terminal course of the Yare, winds through reedy marshes and becomes lost in Breydon Water, a huge expanse of estuary, which visitors to Yarmouth will remember as presenting such a dreary waste of muddy flat at low water. The Yare and the Waveney are connected by an artificial channel, called the New Cut, making the course by water to the ancient City of Norwich complete from the south-eastern portion of the district. Away to the east of the river at St. Olaves is Fritton Decoy, one of the smaller, but at the same time typical, Broads of Norfolk.
The district of the Broads is computed to hold not less than 5,000 acres of lake, and 200 miles of river, or canal-like waterway that passes as such; but the Broads, as they are popularly known, mostly cluster along the banks of theBure. Towards the coast in the north-east is delightful little Horsey Mere, the outlying lake in that direction connected with the combination of watery stretches, generally known as Hickling Broads, the largest of the entire series, and brought into the common watery highway by means of the Thurne, sometimes called the Hundred Stream. As a rule, the water of these East Anglian Broads is discoloured by sand in solution, and sometimes, as at Fritton, it assumes a greenish hue. But Hickling, which is a very beautiful sheet of water, though, by reason of its shallowness, not wholly beloved by yachtsmen, has the enviable peculiarity of being clear. Upon the hard gravelly bottom the loveliest of water plants grow; and sailing over them in a small boat, brushing them lightly even with your keel, and the breeze not beingsufficiently strong to ruffle the surface, you look down upon a submerged panorama, upon a subaqueous fairyland of mossy meadows and weedy bowers, from and into which the zebra-barred perch and the silvery cyprinidæ glide.
From Hickling it is a long sail down to Thurne mouth, where we regain the main stream of the Bure, and the scenery is thoroughly characteristic of East Anglia. Truly there is nothing like it elsewhere in this country. League upon league we steal along the placid waterway, between rustling sedge, flag, reed, and coarse grasses, protecting all the aquatic flowers in their season. Sleek cattle graze upon the low, fat, boundless pastures; everywhere weather-worn windmills catch the breeze, and work devoted to the perpetual service of pumping out the intersecting dykes. Beyond the marshes, undulating country swells gently to picturesque and distant woods; square church-towers peep above the trees. There are cornfields and patches of turnip surrounding the ruddy buildings of many a happy homestead. Hour after hour we silently move between margins gay with the bold purple loosestrife, the free-blossoming willow-herb, the fragrant meadow-sweet, and the dark glossy-leaved alder, which never thrives so well as when its feet are in the water, and which seems to be most strong in the sap when other trees are on the verge of decay.
The Broads connected with the upper part of the Bure are the most generally known, following each other in close succession, and having a number of villages in their neighbourhood. The trip from Yarmouth up this river is at first monotonous in the extreme, but the traveller soon gets accustomed to the Hollandish land and water. The smaller the boat for this excursion, the better the speed; the mast has to be lowered at the low, modest bridges, and to meet this requirement the so-called wherries and the una-rigged boats are provided with special appliances. Very soothing it is, when the breeze is merry, to loll upon the cushions aft, gaze up at the heavens, and list to the ripple at the bows. The shivering willows present an everlasting intermingling of moving grey and green as the slender leaves expose now the upper and now the under covering, after their kind. Water-fowl scuttle off to cover as you heave in sight. By-and-bye there will bear down upon you one of the famous East Anglian wherries, half-sister to the sailing-barges of the Medway and the Thames. Her large ruddy sails are hoisted by machinery, and as she sweeps round a bend, running free, she will seem to be dooming you to destruction. Yet she flies past, making splendid speed, and docile as a child under the management of the skipper at the helm.
One of the show-places on the Bure is St. Benet’s Abbey, to which all strangers resort. The ruins that attract attention long before the landing-place is reached are the remains of an ecclesiastical establishment of the early part of the eleventh century. It was a strong post, and the monks offered a stubborn resistance to William the Conqueror. Eventually the abbey was annexed to the bishopric of Norwich; and, inheriting the old right of the Abbot to a seat in the House of Lords, the Bishops of Norwich, who are in legal parlance Abbots of St.Benet’s-at-Holme, as well as Bishops, have a double claim to a seat on the Episcopal Bench. The river Bure was, in those old fighting days, a line of defence to the abbey on the south, and the position of the moat, which completed the isolation, may still be traced. The gateway of the abbey, which was a cruciform building with a plain round tower in the centre, stands, but it is blocked by the rubbish of a large windmill which tumbled upon it in the last century. There are other relics, and the prettiness of the place, its historical associations, and the soft turf that contrasts so agreeably with the rougher herbage of the marshes, make it a resort of picnic parties.
Walsham, Ranworth, Hoveton, Woodbastwick, Salhouse, and Wroxham Broads are a close constellation. Wroxham is a typical specimen of the larger Broads upon which regattas are held, where a large yacht may cruise, and the shores of which present diversity of woodland, private grounds, farm lands, and village life. Equally typical of the smaller lakes is Salhouse Broad. I visited it last in the late summer, the boat slipping out of Wroxham Broad through an inviting opening in the reeds. To my mind there is nothing prettier in all Norfolk than this sheltered lakelet, a watery retreat which, like many of the Broads, is private property. The reeds around its margin on one shore, which presents a series of bays within bays, are of gigantic height. They stand out of the water in thickets, lofty walls of slender growth, coped with nodding plumes and restless tassels. On the opposite shore the scenery is park-like. At the time of my visit there were a number of small yachts moored at Salhouse, and upon the weedy shore there was, at points, a striking intermixture of ash trees, alders, and the guelder rose, vieing with one another as to which could thrive best nearest the water’s edge. The guelder rose bushes were bright with their clumps of red berries, glittering and transparent like Venetian glass.
Out of this small enclosure you push through a narrow waterway into Hoveton Great Broad, a lake of quite another type, particularly Dutch-like in its surroundings. Productive arable land stretches right and left, and windmills mark the horizon all round; no point of the prospect is without its square-towered church or red-tiled houses. So shallow are many portions of Hoveton Broad, that as you sweep through the light beds of reeds, forcing the graceful growths out of your course, there are often not eighteen inches of water beneath your keel, and the Dutch flavour before mentioned is intensified by the appearance of large clumsy boats, laden high with cut reeds, to be used hereafter as fodder.
Horning Ferry, a well-known waterside resting-place, may be taken as a typical feature of village life in these parts. At a bend in the river Bure you arrive at a village with granaries, and the red-tiled cottages of a long street close to the water’s edge. There are heaps of produce on the bank, a fleet of boats-of-all-work, wherries waiting for cargoes, and a huge windmill on the low ridge behind this quaint country settlement. You sail close to the walls of the village street, and it is expected that you offer a largesse of coppers to thesunbrowned children who run along, keeping pace with the boat, and singing a hymn, as the Horning children have done from time immemorial, in praise of John Barleycorn. All the yachtsmen coming and going halt at Horning Ferry, lounge upon the smooth-shaven lawn, and enjoy the comforts of a civilised inn; for the first time, perchance, for days, in the case of men who have been roughing it in wherries or smaller boats. In the hotel parlour may be noticed a case of stuffed birds, containing excellent specimens of the beautiful summer teal, black tern, solitary fowl, and jack-snipes, and two or three rare visitants, all shot by the proprietor of the hotel. Guns, fishing-rods, hunting pictures, whips and spurs, adorning the walls, give an air of sport to the place both welcome and fitting.