drive. It is a drive to be taken very shortly in print, and quite easily by
road over Fen country, not needing to be described anew, to a cathedral
city situate geographically in the Midlands--that is to say, to
Peterborough. Now Peterborough is in Northamptonshire, and Northamptonshire
sounds Midland as Midland can be. On what pretext is Peterborough
introduced? Really none is needed; our brief detour is but an illustration
of the truth that county boundaries, apart from the matters of police and
road-making, have no more meaning for the motorist than they had for the
Romans. Peterborough is easily accessible from Lynn, via Wisbech, by
thirty-five miles of flat road. Its cathedral dominates the Fens from the
west as Ely dominates their southern and central parts; it has been
intimately associated with their troubled history in the past. The
cathedral too, although by no means to be reckoned amongst the most
majestic to be found in England, is very fine in itself, and exceptionally
interesting and suggestive. I had written "instructive," but that is
usually a word raising expectation of tedious discourse. As a matter of
fact, little shall be written about Peterborough Cathedral, although many
personal impressions might be moulded into one. Go to see Peterborough
Cathedral. Remember that it is one of the three Norman cathedrals of
England; that the first church on this site was built in the closing years
of the seventh century, and rased to the ground by the Danes; that the
second was burned in the twelfth century; that the greater part of the
present structure was 120 years in the building before it was consecrated
in the thirteenth century; that the central tower was rebuilt in the
fourteenth century, and that the nineteenth century saw a great deal of
necessary work done. Remembering this, you will surely depart reluctantly,
convinced that of all our English books in stone none contains more
chapters than that entitled Peterborough Cathedral, that in no edifice can
the student of architecture who inspects with the advantage of special
knowledge, or the fairly cultivated man who lacks that special knowledge,
find more details of genuine charm and interest. Here you can trace
developments, early Norman vaulting in the aisles, exquisite
fan-vaulting--it is peculiar to England--in the choir, clustered piers to
columns. Here you may follow the differences in character and arrangement
between a monastic cathedral, such as Peterborough was, served by regular
clergy and monks, and one of the old foundation, like St. Paul's, which,
being served by secular clergy, was not affected by the reforms of Henry
VIII. You may see, too, traces of the iconoclastic zeal of Cromwell's
followers, often credited with the misdeeds of others. In spite of them,
too, you may realize, not more forcibly than elsewhere perhaps, but still
in full force, that which has been remarkably well put by Professor
Banister Fletcher and Mr. Banister F. Fletcher in their _Comparative
Architecture_. "The place in the national life which the mediaeval
cathedrals occupied was an important one, and must be realized if we would
understand how they were regarded. In the absence of books, and of people
able to read them, cathedrals were erected and decorated partly as a means
of popular education, the sculpture and the painted glass reflecting the
incidents of Bible history from the Creation to the redemption of mankind,
the sculptured forms and brilliant colouring rendering them easily
understood by the people. The virtues and vices, with their symbols, were
also displayed, either in glass or statuary, along with their reward or
punishment. Saints and angels told of the better life, and the various
handicrafts, both of peace and war, were mirrored in imperishable stone or
coloured glass. They, to a large extent, took the place in our social state
since occupied by such modern institutions as the Board School, Free
Library, Museum, Picture Gallery, and Concert Hall. They were the history
books of the period. Architecture then as now was also the grand chronicle
of secular history, past and present, in which Kings, Nobles, and Knights
were represented."
Nothing conduces more to appreciation of the full meaning of a passage than
the laborious process of copying, and having now performed that process I
am moved to protest that these few lines, while they leave to the
understanding the purely ecclesiastical significance of mediaeval
architecture, and are absolutely free from rhetorical artifice, are more
pregnant with meaning than many pages of moving eloquence. So we leave
Peterborough and, if the mood seizes us, make a detour of eight miles to
Crowland before returning to Peterborough. This, personally I cannot speak
for; but there are some remains of the historic abbey.
PART II
The end of these wanderings is now close in sight, and the thought fills
him who writes with feelings in which regret predominates over relief. He
would be a cold-blooded person indeed who, after much travel in East Anglia
had revealed to him many beauties new to him, besides refreshing
acquaintance with those seen before, after steeping himself, to the best of
his ability and opportunities, in the history and legends of the district,
should not have developed a very warm appreciation of the variety and
character of both. But it is needless to say this over and over again, in
various forms of words, in vain imitation of Matthew Arnold's method of
compelling attention, and there is the less excuse for anything of the kind
in that our last drive, or drives, take us through an exceptionally large
number of storied places, and through some of the most breezy and
fascinating of Norfolk scenery.
We will begin, if you please, by going to Castle Rising, lying 3-1/2 miles
N.N.E. of Lynn, and there we must stop for quite a long time. Despite the
local saying "Rising was a seaport town when Lynn was but a marsh," there
is a good deal of doubt about its early history. Concerning its later
history there is none at all. The sand just silted up the harbour, the port
became a mere memory, and of all the "rotten boroughs" disfranchised by the
Reform Act of 1832 none perished more deservedly than Castle Rising, where
the voters were reduced to two. Was it of Castle Rising (it was certainly
of some "rotten borough" in East Anglia) that I read how the nobleman who
kept it in his pocket mockingly caused a waiter to represent it in
Parliament? It was in days at any rate when a waiter, as a member of the
"best club in the world," would have seemed a great deal more out of place
than he would in these days of sectional representation. Let us consider
first what there is to see. Over a bridge and through a Norman gate-house
one enters an almost circular space surrounded by a very high earth bank
and a deep ditch. Inside the commanding object is the keep, its Norman
windows full of character, its walls nine feet thick; the chapel and part
of the constable's lodgings also remain. The hall and gallery remain in
part; everything else is utterly perished. Still, Rising is an impressive
monument of the olden time. How long have the earthworks occupied their
present position? At one period antiquaries of repute placed a Roman "camp"
here, calling some of the earthworks Roman. "But," writes Mr. Haverfield,
"this is most unlikely and no Roman remains have ever been found here." It
is true a coin of Constantine the Great was once dug up in the
neighbourhood; but this would be vague at best, and one coin goes no
further as an argument of a Roman camp than a sixpence dropped by an
explorer does to prove a British settlement in the heart of Thibet. Mound
and ditch may have been British, but there is no suggestion of evidence to
prove it. They are not in the least likely to have been Roman; for the
Romans had little, if any, fighting in these parts, and the defence of this
portion of the "Saxon shore" was, as we shall see shortly, provided for by
the fortification of Brancaster. After all, why should not William
d'Albini, first Earl of Arundel, who at any rate began the building of the
castle, have caused the mound to be heaped up and the ditch scooped out in
the closing years of the twelfth century? It was a period when Norman
nobles were not unduly particular as to the manner in which they extorted
work, and it may well have seemed to him desirable to make a position,
naturally strong, all but impregnable.
The most interesting of the early Lords was Robert de Montalt, who had a
feud and a lawsuit with the people of Lynn. Lynn, it is pretty clear, had
ceased to be a marsh by that time, and the two communities were far too
adjacent to one another for friendly feeling to subsist. De Montalt, too,
claimed certain rights in connection with the tolbooth and tolls of Lynn,
which were not to the taste of the free and independent burghers of Lynn.
It so fell out that one day de Montalt and his followers were in Lynn when
they were espied by the burghers. Thereupon Nicholas de Northampton
and others raised the town against them, chased them to "his
dwelling-house"--surely hardly Castle Rising--besieged it, broke open the
doors, beat him and his men, stripped them of weapons, money and jewels to
the value of L40, kept him in durance for two days, and released him only
upon his solemn promise in the market-place to relinquish all actions
against the Mayor and all claims against the Corporation. De Montalt made
his promise and departed; but he certainly did not keep the spirit of the
compact extorted from him by duress, for he had the law of the Corporation
of Lynn, secured judgment for L6000, a huge sum in those days, and, more
than that, he actually got L4000, for which he compromised, and Lynn was
taxed for years to pay the money by instalments. Of a surety Robert de
Montalt laughed best over that quarrel.
In the case of the next, and for our purposes, the last inmate of Castle
Rising, we have an illustration of the troublesome manner in which
industrious diggers after facts destroy established and easily assimilated
statements by historians. In the case of Isabella, the She-wolf of France,
whose paramour Mortimer had caused her husband, Edward II, to be murdered
with unexampled barbarity in Berkeley Castle, it was nice and easy to learn
that, after the accession of Edward III and the fall and execution of
Mortimer, "the Queen Mother was deprived of her enormous jointure, and shut
up in the Castle of Rising, where she spent the remaining twenty-seven
years of her life in obscurity." If ever there was a thoroughly bad woman,
that woman was Isabella; and to dispose of her in a single sentence was
nice and simple. Unhappily it seems, like the story of Alfred's cakes and
other cherished traditions, to be entirely wrong. While Isabella was at
Rising Edward allowed her L3000 a year first, and L4000 a year later;
letters patent under her hand were issued from her "Castle of Hertford" in
the twentieth year of Edward III; Edward III visited her often at Castle
Rising; she was allowed to make a pilgrimage to Walsingham (which after all
was quite near); she visited Norwich with Edward III and his Queen in 1344;
and she died at Hertford Castle, having been there since 1357. In fact
neither the sufferings nor the obscurity of the She-wolf of France were of
a striking character.
Inland from Castle Rising you may see a ridge of upland, pine and
heather-clad, with here and there some woodland and some agricultural land,
following the line of the coast, but three or four miles from it. Your best
route will be to travel some three miles to Wolferton, along a level and
excellent road. The roads of Norfolk are, indeed, good throughout in my
experience. At Wolferton you can hardly fail to notice the peculiar stone,
of a dark reddish-brown colour, of which the church is built. It is called
"Carr" stone locally, a great deal of it is used in cottages, houses and
churches, and if it seems a trifle redder to you at Wolferton than
elsewhere--it never so struck me--the redness is attributable to a fire of
1486, after which a licence to collect alms for rebuilding was issued! If
such licences were a condition precedent to similar collections now the
Post Office would be much the poorer, and some of us might be richer. What
must also strike the spectator from the road is the very stately tower,
and, by entering, you will see a fine specimen of the not too common
hammer-beam roof. From Wolferton to Sandringham, or to its gates, I have
walked and driven at almost every season of the year, always to find fresh
beauties in that gentle slope. In winter, with snow upon the ground, when
the fresh green is on the larches in spring, when bracken is pushing out
its fronds in embryo knots, when the heather is in its glory, and, best of
all, when the rhododendrons are in bloom, it is as beautiful a sight as any
upon which the eye of man need desire to rest. Moreover, this stretch of
the heath-lands of East Anglia looks the very place for any roving bird to
haunt, and it is a real bond of union between me and the artist, who gives
to these pages more than half their brightness, to learn from him that the
sheldrake nests here habitually.
At the top of the hill on the right you obtain a glimpse of the parish
church of Sandringham, modern, and regularly attended by the King and
Queen, and of the park across which the King walks to service, for all the
world like any other country gentleman. A hundred yards or so farther on
you are opposite the principal gates. These are of exquisite ironwork, and
were presented to the then Prince of Wales in 1864 by the County of
Norfolk, justly proud of its newly acquired landowner, and entitled to be
proud too of the workmanship which turned these gates out at Norwich. Now
Sandringham is not a place that is shown on stated days, as many houses
are. It is too small for that; it is indeed one of the few places where the
King and Queen can enjoy real privacy, but, as luck will have it, I have
seen Sandringham inside, and a brief impression of it is given, partly,
perhaps, because it may be welcome from a careful witness, but mainly
because Mr. Walter Rye has done it injustice. "Sandringham itself," he
wrote in 1885, "is nothing much to see. It was bought vastly dear, and has
had a tremendous lot of money spent on it. Gunton or Blickling would have
been much more suited to him, and with the same amount of money spent on
them would by this time have been little palaces." Very likely, but the
Prince of Wales, as he was then, desired not a palace but a home, in which
he could live during his all too rare holidays from public duty the life of
a country gentleman with his family; in which he could interest himself in
farming, and could enjoy really good shooting; in which his Princess could
indulge her taste for gardening, and for keeping dogs of many kinds; in
which, last and best of all, his children could lead simple lives and be
much in the open air. All that he found in Sandringham. The situation is
pretty and remarkably healthy, the shooting is of the best and full of
variety, the gardens reveal the taste of their Royal mistress, the house is
full of dear memories and of rare possessions. It may not be very beautiful
architecturally, but it is essentially a house to be lived in, and it is
something in its favour that, in an age which believes in the health-giving
power of the sun, it is absolutely suffused with all the light there is. Of
a truth Mr. Rye's sympathy is quite uncalled for, and even rather
needlessly offensive. By the way, as you pass you may chance to hear a
Sandringham clock strike twelve and find that your impeccable watch only
admits half-past eleven; and you may remember to have seen in some of the
papers at various times that it is the King's hobby to have all his clocks
half an hour fast so that he may never be late. It is his hobby, but its
object is not to secure punctuality so much as to cheat the morning out of
an extra half-hour. The evening hours can be prolonged at pleasure, but to
start shooting at 9.30 instead of ten on a winter's day is a great gain.
[Illustration: HEATH NEAR SANDRINGHAM]
Blickling, it should be added, is near Aylsham. It was owned once by
Harold, then by the Bishops of Norwich, and then by Sir Thomas Boleyn,
father of Anne Boleyn. "A sheet of water about a mile long, in the middle
of a beautiful and well-wooded park, is a fitting adjunct to the noble red
house, built in the reign of James I, with its fine ceiled galleries and
carvings, and its grand staircase." So Mr. Rye, and then he passes off to
heraldry. Gunton is, or was, in the same neighbourhood. "Murray" says that
the house "of white brick, enlarged by Wyatt 1785,"--neither statement
sounds alluring--"is without interest." Mr. Rye says elsewhere "the hall
was burnt out not long ago" (he writes in 1885) "and is not yet rebuilt,
and very picturesque it looks with its great gaunt shell pierced by rows of
empty windows. It would make a capital ruin, and might just as well be left
as it is, and a smaller house, more suitable to the fortunes of the
Harbords, built elsewhere in the park."
Shooting and motoring are the great out-door occupations of Sandringham. If
the King be at home the chances of seeing a royal car on these roads are
many, and in late November you may often hear the guns popping like a _feu
de joie_. Nay, on the road, which turns sharply to the left for Dersingham
by the gate, proceeding through fine trees on both sides, and on the level
for a while, and then down a steep hill, I have had the good fortune to
see the Prince of Wales and the German Emperor bringing pheasants down in a
manner more than workmanlike. So to Dersingham, a sunny village lying in a
cup of the modest little hills. Here again you will be struck by the
all-pervading use of the local carr stone, very neatly dressed in minute
blocks, apparently impervious to weather and incapable of taking any tone
from rain and wind and sun. Picturesque to the eye of a stranger it
certainly is not; but the walls and houses built of it are trim to a Dutch
point of neatness, and, to accustomed eyes, it no doubt seems to be part of
the established order of things. It is no harm suggesting again that in
relation to the appearance of things, the product of man's hand, of the
operations of nature, or of the two combined, first impressions are not to
be trusted in all cases. Custom makes a world of difference. A Chinaman, or
a Hottentot, has, for example, ideas completely opposite to ours concerning
female beauty. Without yielding to either in the matter of opinion, even in
these extreme instances, we may possibly concede that standards of beauty
are not to be defined with scientific precision. "Carr" stone buildings to
some of us may look a trifle grim and formal, although their ferruginous
tone is not cold; at worst they represent the resolve to use local
material, which is usually consonant with art and sense, and no doubt their
appearance excites no feeling of distaste in the people of Norfolk who,
after all, are the persons principally concerned. Of this same stone the
church is built. Here the passers by will be struck by the stately
proportions of the lofty tower, and, if he enters, he will notice the
orderly condition of all things, as well as a piscina and a hagioscope. To
the neat condition of things, which should be normal, attention is called
in this case because, apparently, it is the complete opposite of the state
of things prevailing in the early seventies, when everything capable of
suffering from neglect had so suffered. Dersingham is a pleasantly tidy
village, but not "model" in the artificial sense. It boasts a hotel, "The
Feathers," where I stayed for a week a good many years ago. It was then one
of the worst in England, but, in new hands, it is understood to be better.
On the whole, however, Dersingham is not recommended for a sojourn, nor has
it, in all probability, been encouraged to lay itself out to attract
visitors.
[Illustration: BLICKLING HALL]
From Dersingham to the Hunstantons is a pleasant drive of some six miles,
calling for no particular comment at any point save Snettisham, where the
position of the church, embowered in trees, fascinates the eye. "The
Hunstantons" has been written because there are two communities, the old
and the new, whereof the latter, according to Mr. Rye, peremptorily refuses
to be dubbed St. Edmund's, in spite of the tradition that a ruined chapel
near the lighthouse on the cliff commemorates the landing-place of St.
Edmund. It is rather an even question whether the Hunstantons owe most to
the cliff, which is their chief glory, or to the Le Stranges, who have done
all that was possible for their prosperity. How long they have been in the
land, being no genealogist, I do not profess to say. They are not included
in Mr. Rye's list of grantees from William the Conqueror, but the monument
of Henry Le Strange and his wife, dated 1485, to be found in the church, is
ancient enough to be at least respectable, and his epitaph is worth quoting
at once, although we shall soon refer to earlier members of the race.
In heaven at home, O blessed change,
Who, while I was on earth, was Strange.
Never were a country-side and a great family connected more consistently to
the benefit of the first and to the honour of the second.
Hard by the church is the ancient "twthill," according to one of the
authorities, "the place of assembly." Since the survival of this expression
is by no means frequent, it may perhaps be permissible to remark that, if
the eye will travel across the map of England, due west from Hunstanton and
as far as it can go, it will come to another "twthill" at Carnarvon. The
spelling looks British, and the ancient British borrowed a good many words
direct from the Latin, _ffenstr_ for example, from _fenestra_, for window,
doubtless a new idea to them. So, being expert neither in philology nor
Anglo-Saxon, but well aware that the Saxons never penetrated to Carnarvon,
and that both "twthills" are remarkably good places of observation, I
hazard the suggestion that "twt" is a British equivalent of _tuitus_, from
_tueor_, of which the proper meaning is "to gaze"; that they were, in fact,
"look-outs." A coincidence in the history of the church of St. Mary,
probably unique, is that it was built by Sir Hamon Le Strange and his son
early in the fourteenth century, and restored in good taste by a Le Strange
of the twentieth century. Whether the places owe most to the family or the
family to the places is not easy to decide, but certainly no family ever
did its duty more consistently by any country-side. On the other hand, but
for the curious cliff, itself remarkably attractive for its outlines and
colouring, the Hunstantons could not have existed to be cherished by the Le
Stranges, for there is still abundant evidence of a submerged forest
between Old Hunstanton and Brancaster. The cliff it was to the sea, "thus
far shalt thou go and no further." The cliff it is that allows the Le
Stranges to live in the ancient hall, fifteenth-century and moated, and to
play the part of a human providence in this most remote corner of Norfolk.
Of the part they played for Charles I mention has been made before.
Eight miles along the coast take us to Brancaster and to history, lately
made far less obscure than it used to be. Here it is clearly the best
course to quote Mr. Haverfield's description, because it is far and away
the best, having first summarized a little of the information leading up to
it. Mention has been made of the Peddar's or Pedlar's Way, traceable, not
very distinctly for the first six miles, but quite plainly afterwards, from
Holme, midway between Brancaster and old Hunstanton, through Fring, Castle
Acre, Swaffham and other places to the boundary of Suffolk and beyond. The
difficulty that it did not lead to Brancaster, further complicated by the
fact that there was no obvious reason why it should not, was the origin of
a theory that it might have led to a ferry from Holme to Skegness; but the
passage would involve some twenty miles of nasty navigation. "Even an
antiquary, when it came to the test of trial, would shrink from such a
_trajectus_." There must have been a road to Brancaster, there is no trace
of any other. It was certainly Roman, it was probably military: that is Mr.
Haverfield's conclusion; and as a slayer of mere fancies he is so just and
relentless that, when at all positive, he is the more convincing. Garrisons
in Roman times were on the north and west, beyond the Severn and Humber,
where they were needed; but by about 300 A.D. "Saxon" pirates began to
harry the eastern and southern coasts, as they continued to do almost up to
the Norman Conquest. So a series of nine forts, of which Branodunum
(Brancaster) was one, was constructed to defend the threatened coast from
this point to Pevensey, in far Sussex. At Brancaster lay the Dalmatian
cavalry, keeping an eye on the Wash and the little harbours and creeks to
the westward.
"The site of Branodunum is at the 'Wreck' or 'Rack' Hill, a short distance
to the east of Brancaster village, between the high road and the creek
which forms the Western Arm of Brancaster harbour. It is still
distinguishable by the fragments of brick and pottery which lie about it,
and by the slight but perceptible elevation of its area; but its walls and
buildings have long ago vanished, and little of them seems to have been
visible even in Camden's days. In size and outline the fort is stated to
have been a square of 570 feet, that is 7-1/2 acres, with gateways on the
eastern and western sides; but no precise measurements have ever been
secured, and I am inclined to consider these figures as somewhat too small.
Excavations made in 1846 showed that the north-east angle of the fort was
rounded, and had within it a small rectangular guard-chamber or turret, and
presumably the three other angles were similar. At the same time it was
found that the walls were 11 feet thick, constructed of concrete, and built
with facing and bonding-courses of a local white sandstone. At the eastern
gate, which apparently had flanking bastions, a road 33 feet wide was found
to enter the fort and run 360 feet across it westwards. Some slight
indications of structures within the fort were also noted, _but much yet
remains to be explored_."
This is Mr. Haverfield's constant plea in relation to East Anglian remains,
and there is much to be said in favour of it. There is neither sense nor
reason in standing outside earth mounds, or in trying to guess their
contents, when the spade would reveal them if they existed, and a nation
which expends so much as ours does in digging up ruins abroad, might very
well do much more work of the same kind at home. The spade, for example,
might resolve the question whether Caister-by-Yarmouth and Reedham were
forts or not, but at present their character is quite uncertain, and the
nearest fort to Brancaster we know is Burgh Castle by Yarmouth. So much, at
least, we know definitely of Brancaster, and it can hardly fail to grasp
the imagination. Here, at this extreme north-east point of Norfolk, the
Dalmatian cavalry, men of the same blood as Constantine the Great, watched
the sea against the enemies of Rome. Taking the comparative conditions of
travel into account, it was almost as it would be if we placed a regiment
of Sikhs in New Zealand to guard it against possible raids from the islands
of the Pacific.
Beyond Brancaster we follow the coast as far as Burnham Deepdale--the brook
in these parts is responsible for many a place-name and for one of undying
fame--and then leave the coast willingly enough, for the sandy waste of the
"meols" soon ceases, if indeed it ever begins, to attract. Then the aspect
of the country soon loses its bleak and wind-swept character; we are in a
peaceful land of little hills and many woods, of brooks and verdure. At
Burnham Thorpe in particular we are in the village to one of whose sons
England and the world owe at least as much as they do to any other hero of
history. Here Nelson was born. Those four words imply volumes, but they are
volumes which positively must not be so much as begun, because they would
never end, and they would be familiar from the first page to the last.
Here, son of a father who was but a country clergyman, and of a mother of
the pure and ancient blood of Norfolk, lived the boy who grew into the man
whose every virtue and every failing are known of all men. He did not live
here long. He was at school at North Walsham and at Downham, and he joined
the _Raisonnable_ at Chatham when he was but twelve and a half years of
age. But he never forgot his birthplace, and it was named conjointly with
the Nile when he was most justly raised to the peerage. One of the most
tranquil spots in the world, and very lovely, is Burnham Thorpe--and it is
holy ground. Not long since, on a pleasure voyage round the extreme north
of Scotland, a perfervid Scot was heard to proclaim the glorious deeds done
for the Empire by Scotland's sons. A west-countryman retorted, "But for
Devon you would all have been Spaniards." An East Anglian might have chimed
in with Burnham Thorpe; an Irishman with the birthplace of the Duke of
Wellington; and it would all go simply to show how futile it is to
institute comparisons.
Possibly at Brancaster, possibly at Burnham Thorpe, the suggestion of a
return to Lynn for the night may have been taken. In that case it is
advised that the return journey of the morning be made to Fakenham only,
taking Rainham Park by the way. Here, in print, we merely drive to Fakenham
through pleasantly undulating and well-wooded country, on the west side of
Walsingham and Houghton which we know. Of Fakenham, too, something has been
said before; but a remark, worth making in passing because it happens to be
true, is that "Fakenham, Norfolk," was an address often used by me as a boy
desirous of acquiring ferrets or spaniels of miraculous quality, according
to the advertisement. The explanation is plain on the face of the land to
him who travels this country. It is very largely and successfully devoted
to game; but whether the vendors of these animals, all paragons in their
kind, were entitled to use the ground on and under which they had trained
them may be an open question.
My recollections of Rainham Hall are so ancient, the circumstances in which
they were acquired were so peculiar, and my ignorance is so complete upon
the questions whether the famous pictures are still there and whether the
Hall is ever open to visitors, that I am not in a position to say whether
it is worth while to go 3-1/4 miles out of the way to it. It may be taken
that it is, if it be possible only to see the park and the outside of the
house; for the latter is by Inigo Jones, and vastly fine; and the park,
containing a magnificent sheet of water famous for its pike, is delightful.
Of the modern representatives of this ancient and once distinguished family
it were unkind to speak. Some of the earlier stock were distinguished. One
took a prominent part for the King in the Rebellion and in the Restoration.
To another the famous Belisarius was given by Frederick the Great. A third
introduced the turnip into Norfolk and was jested at by Pope; but Pope is
not so quotable as a more enthusiastic and less known verse-maker of
Norfolk:--
Thus Townshend gave the Master-Key
T' unlock the store of Husbandry;
Who, like Triptolemus of old,
From clods made rustics gather gold.
Friend patriarchal to our county!
Still, as we taste, we own thy bounty.
One of the great main roads of Norfolk starts from Cromer and runs through
Sheringham and several other places to Elmham and East Dereham. Whether you
start from Fakenham or Rainham you join it by a cross-road just north of
Twyford, and a Norfolk main road is always worth joining, because it is so
good to travel upon. To Elmham it is positively necessary to go. It was, in
all probability, the seat of East Anglian bishops before they deserted it
for Thetford, and then for Norwich; certainly they had their palace there,
and the earthworks are the more rather than the less interesting in that
they are, according to the authority more than once quoted, probably
post-Roman. It is worth while to enter the church too, not merely to see
the carved bench-heads, which are quite common in Norfolk, but because one
of them, of a Roman in a helmet, is said to represent Pontius Pilate.
A short five miles takes us to East Dereham, and it has been described by a
master's hand.
"I have already said that it was a beautiful little town--at least it was
at the time of which I am speaking--what it is at present I know not, for
thirty years and more have elapsed since I last trod its streets." (Of a
truth it seems to have changed very little.) "It will scarcely have
improved, for how would it be better than it then was? I love to think on
thee, pretty quiet D----, thou pattern of an English country town, with thy
clean but narrow streets branching out from thy modest market-place, with
thine old-fashioned houses, with here and there a roof of venerable thatch,
with thy one half-aristocratic mansion, where resided Lady Bountiful--she,
the generous and kind, who loved to visit the sick, leaning on her
gold-headed cane, whilst the sleek old footman walked at a respectful
distance behind. Pretty quiet D----, with thy venerable church in which
moulder the remains of England's sweetest and most pious bard."
The bard of course was Cowper, who lived at East Dereham in his affliction,
died and was buried there. To be perfectly candid, it is in the nature of a
relief to one who has found the works of Cowper, always excepting _John
Gilpin_, sweet and pious, but also a trifle tiresome, to convert to his own
use--the usual word for taking a loan is clearly barred--some panegyric of
Cowper from George Borrow, who was unlike to Cowper as one man can be to
another, and not from some more modern writer making a business of
admiration. Borrow indeed proceeds in a tone of heartfelt sympathy which
none of the professional eulogists can touch. "It was within thee that the
long-oppressed bosom heaved its last sigh, and the crushed and gentle
spirit escaped from a world in which it had known nought but sorrow.
Sorrow! do I say? How faint a word to express the misery of that bruised
reed; misery so dark that a blind worm like myself is occasionally tempted
to exclaim, Better had the world never been created than that one so kind,
so harmless, and so mild, should have undergone such intolerable woe! But
it is over now, for, as there is an end of joy, so has affliction its
termination. Doubtless the All-wise did not afflict him without a cause!
Who knows but within that unhappy frame lurked vicious seeds which the
sunbeams of joy and prosperity might have called into life and vigour?
Perhaps the withering blasts of misery nipped that which otherwise might
have terminated in fruit noxious and lamentable. But peace to the unhappy
one, he is gone to his rest; the death-like face is no longer occasionally
seen timidly and mournfully looking for a moment through the window-pane
upon thy market-place, quiet and pretty D----; the hind in thy
neighbourhood no longer at evening-fall views, and starts as he views, the
dark lathy figure moving beneath the hazels and the elders of shadowy
lanes, or by the side of murmuring trout-streams, and no longer at early
dawn does the sexton of the old church reverently doff his hat, as,
supported by some kind friend, the death-stricken creature totters along
the church-path to that mouldering edifice with the low roof, enclosing a
spring of sanatory waters, built and devoted to some saint, if the legend
over the door be true, by the daughter of an East Anglian king."
Well, the daughter of the East Anglian king was Withburga, and the name of
her father, who reigned in the seventh century, appears to have been Anna
[_sic_]. She was a sister of St. Ethelreda too. But the pilgrimage to East
Dereham is better worth taking for the love of George Borrow than for the
sake of any saint, female or male, seventh or seventeenth century. George
Borrow was assuredly no saint; but a wanderer, an adventurer, a wayward
genius, a very human and fallible man, with "a true English heart," to
quote Mr. Augustine Birrell. At East Dereham he was born, from East Dereham
he drew Philo the clerk to the life, on the East Anglian heaths he met and
studied the gipsies whom he knew as no other Englishman amongst us has ever
known them. He belongs to East Dereham, he is its veritable _vates sacer_.
East Dereham is the intersecting point of two great roads, the one we came
by, which goes on to Thetford and Bury, and the road crossing the county
from Norwich to Lynn. That will give us a straight run home, for Lynn is
home for the nonce, by way of Swaffham, where we must make a detour for
Castle Acre. Swaffham itself is of little apparent interest, although its
church is worth more than a passing glance, since it is a good type of
Norfolk church, and can boast a double hammer-beam roof. But Swaffham
interests me, and is likely to interest a good many other persons, in a
connection with matters more mundane. So early as the first chapter, when
we were passing near to another Swaffham--multiplicity of identical
place-names exceeds the limits of convenience in East Anglia--a casual
observation was made to another Swaffham, the one at which we now are,
where George, Earl of Orford, founded the first coursing club ever started
in England, and I thought as I wrote of an ancient MS. commonplace book in
which a young Welsh parson, breeder of greyhounds and runner of them,
commemorated the mighty achievements of greyhounds in East Anglia. Since
then we have encountered George, Earl of Orford, have felt, perhaps, a
little more sympathy with him than the world which knows him only as a
seller of priceless pictures. Since then, too, I have laid my hand on the
book, and in it is a long note headed, "October 1792. Swaffham Coursing
Society. A cup value 25 guineas subscribed for in honour to the memory of
the founder George, Earl of Orford, to be run for in November annually upon
the following terms and conditions." To give these in full might try
patience too hard, but the foundation of the cup in itself shows that the
eccentric peer was not ill-liked in his county, and some of the rules are
so quaint that the whole may be condensed. If entries are more than
sixteen, or less than sixteen in number, they are to be reduced to sixteen
or eight as the case may be, by lot. If "any of the matched dogs should be
so disabled as to pay forfeit to his antagonist, that antagonist shall be
deemed the winner of the heat in question, but the person paying forfeit
shall produce another dog to run a course against him, which substituted
dog shall have no chance for the cup even if he wins his heat. It is
provided also that no owner may enter more than one dog, that entries shall
be a guinea, and that each owner shall back his dog for a guinea in each
heat." Venues are then laid down, Westacre for the first dog, Smeefield for
the second, Narborough for the third, and Westacre for the final. The club,
a later note informs us, was limited to the number of letters in the
alphabet, applicants for vacancies as they occurred to be balloted for. It
is interesting to think of the scenes on Westacre and the other manors,
some certainly retaining their ancient names still, in 1792, when coursing,
now fallen on evil days, was fashionable. To recall the names of those who
were present is not possible, for 1792 was the date of the birth of the
writer of the commonplace book, and his copy of the rules was apparently
made in a mood of research into the antiquities of his favourite sport. But
I find a list of "Coursers at Swaffham 1825," clearly showing by the
letters appended to the names that the old limitation to the letters of the
alphabet survived, and the names themselves may stir East Anglian memories.
They are, "Mr. Keppel, K, Mr. Tysser (?) F, Mr. H. Hammond, Q, Mr. Gurney,
A, Mr. Denn, D, Mr. Redhead, L, Mr. Ayton, P, Mr. Carter, G, Lord Dunwich,
M, Lord Stradbroke, E, Mr. Buckworth, B, Mr. Young, V, Mr. Gurdon, S."
Members of the Yorkshire, Wiltshire and Berkshire Coursing Clubs were also
at liberty to enter for the Orford Cup.
From Swaffham we make a detour of 4-1/2 miles to Castleacre and to the
mystery of earthworks. It is the last place we visit in East Anglia, and,
having visited it, it will be just as well to return to the good high road
for our return journey to Lynn. What one sees, after a drive across a
gorse-clad common, is simple, what it means is another matter. One sees the
ruins of the Priory, a great mound, and beyond it a village showing what
has become of the ruins of the castle and the Priory. The story of the
castle is easily traced with the help of Messrs. Timbs and Gunn. The site
was granted by the Conqueror to William de Warrenne; he or his son built a
castle, and it remained the property of the family until the fifteenth
century. Edward I went there several times as a visitor, but early in the
fourteenth century the castle was a ruin. Now we can see only two
earthworks, one horseshoe-shaped, the other circular, a faint remnant of
the great gateway, and bare traces of foundations of inner parts of the
castle. "There is no doubt of the fortress having been erected by the
Warrennes, but did they construct the enormous earthworks? Mr. Harrod
considers they are not Norman, but Roman, the occupation of the site by the
Romans being established, and Roman pottery and coins of Vespasian,
Constantine, etc., having been found there. Evidence is then quoted to show
that the walls and earthworks were the works of different people, and that
the Normans availed themselves of these sites in consequence of their
strength. 'And here,' says Mr. Harrod, 'we see the variety of interest
afforded by the study of archaeology. Here is a castle, of which all
interesting architectural features have been destroyed. But probably from
that very cause our attention is drawn to the remarkable character of the
earthworks, and a view of this subject is presented to our notice, which
may hereafter be of great use in the investigation of other remains of a
similar kind.'"
"Murray," again, supports Mr. Harrod, adding on his own behalf "the
position of Castle Acre, on the line of a very ancient road, known as the
'Peddar's Way,' must always have been one of very great importance." Of
this argument we may dispose at once. It has been seen that, if the
Peddar's Way was a military road, its importance was due only to the fact
that it led to Brancaster, or towards Brancaster; Brancaster was a fortress
and watch-tower, seawards against the Saxon pirates, and nothing more. Now
let us apply the cold learning and scientific tests of Mr. Haverfield. "The
imperfect rectangular earthwork between the church and the ruins of the
Saxon and Norman castle has generally been taken to represent a Roman
earthen camp of 10 or 12 or (according to others) 22 acres in size, and
various finds of Roman objects have been adduced to support the idea. But
the camp, so far as I can judge without excavation, is not definitely Roman
in character, and hardly any of the objects seem to have been found in or
near it." He then goes through the "finds" systematically, and concludes:
"I cannot regard this meagre and scattered evidence as adequate to prove
the camp Roman, still less to prove it Roman of the first century, as Mr.
Fox suggests. It indicates at the utmost a cottage or two, standing perhaps
by the Peddar's Way (which runs through Castleacre parish, and earthworks)
somewhere about A.D. 300. This may very likely have been to the north of
the parish and not in the vicinity of the 'camp.' In truth the best and
best authenticated 'find,' an intaglio with an emperor's head, was made two
miles north of the 'camp.'"
Where are we then? Merely in a state of knowing that, according to the best
authority, there is no adequate evidence for believing the earthworks to be
Roman. The problem presented by these earthworks and others is a legitimate
subject for conjecture. Dr. Jessopp, in a paper on "The Saxon Burghs of
Norfolk," appears to think that Castle Rising, Castleacre, Mileham, Elmham,
and Norwich represent a line of Saxon fortresses, some of them occupying
sites which were Roman before, erected to resist the Danes in the ninth
century. The Roman hypothesis he would probably drop in the light of
present knowledge, and, looking at the positions of these places on the
map, it is not quite apparent, to say the least of it, why they should have
been chosen for points of resistance to invaders from the sea. Were they,
then, pre-Roman? That is possible; and it is quite consistent with the
absence of Roman remains, for until the Saxon shore became a reality, the
Romans had no occasion to fight in East Anglia after they had wiped the
Iceni off the face of the earth, and so they had no need for fortresses in
it. Or is it just conceivable that here, as has been suggested in the case
of Castle Rising, the haughty Norman grandees compelled the subjugated
country-folk, by scourge and every brutal method, to pile up these huge
mounds?
We can never tell for certain unless the spade be set to work in earnest,
perhaps not then even; but in the meanwhile, as we make the run of some
twenty miles to Lynn, it is amusing, if somewhat unscientific, to
speculate, nor is speculation any the less entertaining in that much of the
basis upon which previous theories have rested has been proved to be
unsound. Let us, then, think of these mysterious works as we roll home to
Lynn; and, having reached it, we have also reached the end.
INDEX
Acle, 45, 46
Agrippina, 190
Alde River, 225
Aldeburgh, 36 _et seq._, 225
Aram, Eugene, 369 _et seq._
Ardleigh, 207
Armada, the, East Anglia's contribution of ships, 163
Attleborough, 91
Avebury, Lord, on changing coastline, 182, 224
Babes in the Wood, the, 132
Badow, Richard de, 274
Barsham, 313
Bawdsey, 165
---- Ferry, 168
Beccles, 41, 314 _et seq._
Bigods, the, 311, 312
Billericay, 275, 277, 278
Birds seen from car, 80
Blackpool, 203
Blakeney, 336
Blickling, 382, 383
Blythburgh, 39
Boadicea, 59 _et seq._, 191, 192, 231, 232, 264, 268
Borrow, George, 55, 307 _et seq._, 393 _et seq._
Bottisham Church, 10
Bowes, Mr. T. G., 363
Bradfield, 213
Braintree, 251
---- as home for London men of business, 252, 253
Brancaster, 61, 387 _et seq._, 397
Brandon, 132
---- flints, 133
Breeze, Mary, 368, 369
Breydon Water, 226, 313
Broads, the, Mr. Rye on, 316
---- Fascination of, 321 _et seq._
Bungay, 307 _et seq._
---- Common, Mr. Rider Haggard upon, 315
---- derivation, 312
---- as a Spa, 309
---- vineyard at, 310
Bures St. Mary, 232
Burnham Deepdale, 389
---- on Crouch, 291
---- Thorpe, 389
Bury St. Edmunds, 16 _et seq._, 21, 261, 299 _et seq._
---- ---- ---- Abbey, 19, 301, 302
---- ---- ---- "Angel," the, 21, 299 _et seq._
---- ---- ---- Carlyle at, 301
---- ---- ---- Defoe at, 302, 303
---- ---- ---- Pickwick at, 302
Butcher's bill, a motorist's, 182
Caesar, Julius, 187
Caister-by-Yarmouth, 45, 97, 320
Caistor-by-Norwich, 58-61
Cambridge, Bull Hotel, 3, 358
---- King's College Chapel, 6
---- Magdalene College, 7
---- St. John's College, 7
---- Trinity College Library, 6
---- University Library, 6
Camps, ancient theories about, 260, 261
Camden, 286
Camulodunum, 187 _et seq._
Caradoc, 191
Carlyle, Thomas, 19
Carr stone, 380, 381, 384
Castle Acre, 396 _et seq._
---- Hedingham, 248
Castle Rising, 377 _et seq._
Cavendish, village, 242, 243
Chadwell, Defoe at, 280
Charles I, 197
Chateaubriand at Bungay, 313
Chaucer, 125
Chelmsford, 148
Chesterfield, Lord, on Newmarket, 13
Chingford, 143
Chipping Ongar, 179
Civil War, the, 367
Clacton-on-Sea, 182, 183, 201
Clare College, Cambridge, 274
Clare, Elizabeth de, 274
---- Family and village, 243
Claudius, Emperor, 187 _et seq._
Cley-next-Sea, 336
Coast changes, 164 _et seq._, 224 _et seq._
Cobbold, Mr. Felix, M.P., 151, 152
Coggeshall, 250, 251
Coke of Norfolk, 48, 338 _et seq._
Cokes, the, 338
Colchester, 65, 182 _et seq._
---- Abbey of St. John, 196
---- Arms of, 193
---- "Cups," the, 185
---- "Red Lion," the, 149, 183
---- Roman Colony, 190
---- ---- times in, 186 _et seq._
---- ---- relics at, 192
---- siege of, 196
---- Town Hall, 185
Cole, Old King, 193
Colman, the original, 112
Constable, John, 88, 207-10 _et seq._, 233, 320
Constantine, the Great, 193 _et seq._
Coot's eggs, a delicacy, 129
Cornish, late Mr. C. J., 167
Cotman, J. T., 55
Cordell, Sir W., 240, 241
Coursing Club, the first, 394, 395
Cowper, Thomas, 392, 393
Crabbe, George, 37 _et seq._
Crome, "Old," 55, 211
Cromer, 324 _et seq._
---- The Link's Hotel, 325
---- society, 327 _et seq._
Cromwell, Oliver, 366, 367
Cromwell, Thomas, 342
Crowland, 377
Cubitt, Sir W., 43
Cudworth, 274
Cunobelin, King, 187, 230, 231
Cunobelin's gold mine, 282, 288
Danbury Hill, 259
Darkness, driving in, 23, 45, 46, 65
Dedham, 207, 211, 320
Defoe at Bury St. Edmunds, 302, 303
---- ---- at Chadwell, 280 _et seq._
Dene Holes, 282 _et seq._
De Ruyter, 39, 40, 214
Dersingham, 384, 385
De Salle, Sir Robert, 50, 51
De Veres, the, 245 _et seq._
Devil's Dyke, the, 12
Dhuleep Singh, Maharajah, 83
Dickens, Charles, 16
Ditchingham, 307 _et seq._
Douglas, Isle of Man, 204
Dovercourt, 213
Downham, 357
Driving, stray hints on, 293
Dukes of Norfolk, their grandeur in the past, 109 _et seq._
Dunmow custom, 172 _et seq._
Dunmow, Great, 172 _et seq._
---- Little, 172
Dunthune, John, 211
Dunwich, 159 _et seq._
Dutt, Mr. W. A., 24
Dyke, a mysterious, 297
Earlham, 120 _et seq._
East Anglia, definition, xviii
---- Bergholt, 210, 213
---- Dereham, 392 _et seq._
Eastern Counties Association, 19
Erming Street, 77
Edmund, St., 16, _et seq._, 385
Edward the Elder, 261
---- II, 380
---- III, 366, 380
Elections, motor-cars at, 2
Elephants, Roman, at Colchester, 190
Elizabeth, Queen, 54, 108
Elmham, 391, 392
Elvedon Hall, 83
Ely Cathedral, 134 _et seq._
Epping, 148, 179
---- Forest, 143 _et seq._, 176
Erasmus, 341, 342, 344
Essex byways, 269, 270
---- military manoeuvres, 182 _et seq._
---- roads, effect of heavy motor traffic on, 277
---- ---- Arthur Young upon, 276
---- scenery, 68, 69
Euston Park, 89 _et seq._
Exits, importance of, 8
Fakenham, 349, 390
Fairfax, 150, 196
Fairlop Oak, the, 146
Falstaff, 209
Falstolf, Sir John, 97, 320
_Farmer's Year, A_, 308
Felix the Burgundian, 162, 151
Felixstowe, 151 _et seq._
Fenn, Sir John, 54, 55
Fens, fascination of, 350 _et seq._
---- reclamation of, 350 _et seq._
Fir hedges, 82, 130
Fitzgerald, Edward, 36, 41, 44
Flixton Park, 307
Fordham, 134
Forest law, 177
Forest of Waltham, 176
Freemasons watched, 113
French, General Sir John, 182, 200
Froude, J. A., 145, 342
Fry, Elizabeth, 122, 327
Game preservation, influence on landscape, 15, 81
Galleywood Common, 259
Garden of Suffolk, the, 159
Gainsborough, Thomas, 211, 233 _et seq._
---- Horace Walpole on, 236
---- on Suffolk scenery, 235
---- Reynolds on, 236
Gog Magog Hills, 79, 137
Grays, 273, 282
Great Baddow, 274
---- Bentley, 228
---- Holland, 204
Grit in petrol, 324 _et seq._, 332
Gulls, Black-headed, 128 _et seq._
Gunton, 383
Gurneys of Earlham, the, 55, 120 _et seq._, 326 _et seq._
Hainault Forest, 176, 177
Hairy Man's Wood. _See_ Hangman's
Hangman's Wood, 280 _et seq._, 287
Hare, late Mr. Augustus, 120, 256, 257, 326
Harleston, 305, 306
Harlow, 179
Harrod, Mr., 397
Harwich, 182, 213 _et seq._
---- Yacht Club memories, 214 _et seq._
Hatfield Broad Oak, 178
---- Forest, 176
---- Heath, 179
Haverfield, Mr. F. J. (on Roman Britain), 3, 15, 54, 58, 85, 320, 364, 378,
387, 397, 398
Haydon Ditch, 297
Helena, Empress, 193 _et seq._
Henry VIII, 342, 343
Herons, 166
Heybridge, 262
High Ongar, 179
Hingham, Norfolk and Massachusetts, 127, 128
Hitchin, 296
Holkham Hall, 338 _et seq._
Hollesley, 225
Hoodie crows, 80, 81
Hopkins, Matthew, witchfinder, 209, 210
Horndon and Hill, 270
Horses and cars, 171, 172
Hotels, English, 3, 361
Houghton Hall, 344 _et seq._
Hunstantons, the, 385 _et seq._
Iceni, 12, 59 _et seq._, 191, 267, 398
Icenhilde Way. _See_ Icknield
Icknield Way, 14 _et seq._, 77
Ingatestone, 255 _et seq._
---- Tornado at, 257 _et seq._
Ipswich, 23, 30 _et seq._, 150, 169
---- "Crown and Anchor," 29, 170
---- Gloves at, 29
---- "Great White Horse," 25-8, 65
Ipswich Oysters, 29
Ireton, 150, 197
Isabella of France, 380
Iveagh, Lord, 83
James I, 78
Jermy, Mr. Isaac, 95 _et seq._
Jersey cattle, 155
Jessopp, Dr., 13, 49, 307
Johnson, Dr., 214
Kett's rebellion, 54, 91-93
Kimberley Hall, 126, 127
Kingsley, C., on the Fens, 352 _et seq._
King's Lynn, 350, 360 _et seq._, 379
---- ---- "The Globe," 350, 360
Lanchester car, 183
Landguard Point, 224, 227
Langdon Hill, 279
Latimer, 274
Leland, 16, 163, 71
Leland's _Itinerary_ described, 71 _et seq._
Le Soken, meaning of, 205
Le Strange, Sir Hamon, 367
---- ---- family, the, 385
Lexden, 229 _et seq._, 265
Lisle, Sir George, 150
Little Maplestead, 249
Long Melford, 236 _et seq._
---- ---- Church, 237 _et seq._
Long Stratton, 62, 63
---- ---- "White Hart," 63
Lowestoft, 42, 43, 313
Lucas family at Colchester, 196
Lucas, Sir Charles, 150, 197
"Maid's Head," the, Norwich, 105 _et seq._, 323
Maldon, 261, 262
Mannerless motorists, 90
Manningtree, 207-209
Margaretting, 259
Martineau, Miss, 55
Martins of Long Melford, 241, 242
Mechanics, ways of, 34, 35
Mechi, Mr., 263, 264
Melford Hall, 237
Merivale, Dean, 188 _et seq._, 265, 266
Messing, 264 _et seq._, 269
Middleton hub, 253
Mildenhall, 133
Mistley, 213
Montalt, Robert de, 379
Moonlight driving, 324
Morning mists, 273
Motor-boats criticized, 323
Motor-car sufficient in itself, 156
Motor-cars as mental tonic, 33
---- in Norfolk, 348, 349
Motor-cycles, a peril of, 358
Murray's Guide, 70 _et seq._, 88, 128, 190
Napier car, 204
Nelson, 313, 357, 389, 390
---- prayer for thanksgiving, 52
_Norfolk Chronicle_, 4
Norfolk dialect, 124
Norfolk, Duke of, 97
---- Dukes of. _See_ Dukes of Norfolk
North Weir Point, 225
Nero, 190
Nevinson, Mr. H. W., 212
Newton, Sir Isaac, 41
Newbury, 12
Newmarket, 11-13, 81
Norwich, 43, 106 _et seq._
---- "A Port," 43
---- Butter Hills, 50
---- Castle, 49
---- Cathedral, 49, 119
---- ---- by moonlight, 113
---- Cattle Market, 116
---- General Market, 118
---- Guildhall, 49, 119
---- in history, 54
---- "Maid's Head," 49, 52, 63
---- Many churches of, 51
---- Objects of interest in, 51
---- Royal Hotel, 46-48
---- St. Peter's Permountergate, 52
---- School of Painting, 55
---- Tombland, 53
---- Walls, 49, 115
Ongar, 148
Ore River, 225
Orford Haven, 225
Orford, third Lord, 347, 394
Ossory, Lord, 41
Oulton Broad, 316, 322
Oxford, Earl of, 246
Oysters, 29, 170, 184, 197
Paine, Thomas, 89
Panhard car, 7, 8, 34
_Paston Letters_, 54, 55, 71 _et seq._, 97, 320, 321
Pastons, the, 112
Peddars Way, the, 61, 387, 398
Pepys, Samuel, 7, 143
Peterborough Cathedral, 374 _et seq._
Peto, Sir S., 43, 44
Petre, Lord, 256
---- Sir W., 256
Pickwick at Bury, 21, 300
---- at Ipswich, 26 _et seq._
Plautius, Aulus, 187 _et seq._
Pope, A., on Houghton, 345
Prasutagus, 191
_Quarterly Review_ on Colchester, 190, 192 _et seq._
---- ---- on Lexden, 230, 231
Quilter, Sir Cuthbert, 168
Rabbit warrens, famous, 83
Rainham Hall, 391
Rider Haggard, Mr., 307 _et seq._
Ripley, architect, 344, 345
Robinson, P., 200
Robsart, Amy, 94
Rolls-Royce car, 74, 294
Romans in Britain, 59
Roman river, the, 230
---- roads, 58 _et seq._
Round church towers, 62
Royal motorists, 348
Royston, 76 _et seq._
Runton, 326, 332
Rush, James, murderer, 95 _et seq._
Ruskin, Mr. John, 157
Rye, Mr. Walter, 54, 63, 85-7, 92, 316, 349, 364, 382, 383
St. Osyth, 204
Salthouse, 335
Sampson, Abbot, 170
Sandon, 259
Sandford, Emily, 99
Sandringham, 381-3
Sandringham time, 382, 383
Sandwich, Lord, 39, 40
Saxmundham, 36, 158, 159
Saxon shore, the, 60, 398
Scole, 63, 305
Scoulton Mere, 128
Seaman, Mr. Owen, 274
Seedfarms of Essex, 207, 208
Shakespeare, _Henry IV_, 209,
_Henry VI_, 20
Sheffield, Lord, 93
Sheringham, 335
Sitomagus, 86
Six cylinders, merits of, 75
Six Mile Bottom, 296, 298
Soham, 134
Sole Bay, battle of, 39, 40
Southwold, 39
Stags, a team of, 347, 348
Stanfield Hall murders, 95 _et seq._
Stepney wheel, 253
Stour River, 209 _et seq._, 245
Stratford, 67
---- St. Mary, 213
Street Way, 11
Strickland, Agnes, 39
Strongbow, 244
Suckling, Caroline, 314
Sudbury, 233, 236
Suetonius, 265 _et seq._
Suffolk, bad roads, 63
Swaffham, 11, 394
Tacitus, 265-268
Takeley, 179
Telford, Thomas, 43
Thetford, 84 _et seq._
Thorn trees, their age, 147
Tillotson, 274
_Times, The_, 100
Tiptree, 200, 262 _et seq._
Tire troubles, 294 _et seq._
"Tom Peartree," 235
Tostock, 24
Townshend, Lord, 345
Townshends, the, 391
Trees over roads, 278
Trimley's twin churches, 151
Trinobantes, 188, 189
Trollope on Cathedral Society, 114
Turner, J. M. W., 280
Turner, Sir John, 370
---- Sir Ll., 94 _et seq._, 214 _et seq._
Tusser, Thomas, 209
Twthill, 386
Tyler, Wat, 50, 243
Villages, character in East Anglia, 306, 307
Vineyards, English, 31
Walpole, Horace, 90, 346, 348
---- Sir Robert, 344 _et seq._
Walsingham Priory, 340 _et seq._
Walton-on-the-Naze, 204
Warwick, Lord, 93
Watton, 132
Weather Heath, 81
Weeley, 227
Wellington, Duke of, 48
Wells-next-Sea, 336, 337
West Manningfield, 259
Weyland Wood, 132
White steam car, 138 _et seq._
Wild Boy, Peter the, 281 _et seq._
Wilson, Miss, 307
Windhams, the, 329
Windmills, 88
Witham, 149, 255
Wivenhoe, 199
Wodehouses, the, 48, 126, 127
Wolferton, 380
Woodbridge, 36
Woolpit, legend of, 24
Worby Beaumont, Mr., 141
Worsted, origin of, 54
Wortham, 303, 304
Wymondham, 91 _et seq._
Wynne, General, 183, 200, 251
Xenophon, physician, 190
Yarmouth, 43, 44, 226, 319, 320
Yaxley, 63
Young, Arthur, 15, 71, 275, 276, 279