228 BLAKENEY CHAP. only a yard beyond the froth of the last roller on the beach. Then they flutter to a grass tuft, and, creeping in, fold their weary wings and sleep in the sound of the breakers." At Blakeney Quay several corn barges are awaiting the arrival of the steam-tug which is to tow them down to the coasting craft lying at the river mouth. Across the salt marshes and wide beds of ooze, now reddened by the ruddy light of sunset, the smoke from the tug's funnel lies like a thin line of cloud. Seaward the shore is so low that land can hardly be distinguished from water; as the night mist The Harbour, Blakeney. gathers they vanish together under a dense white pall. But there is no mist in the lovely Vale of Stiffkey, through which I ride on my way to Wells; and the green slopes which lead down to its clear rivulet are voiceful with the songs of birds. In the hush of evening it seems an abode of eternal peace. Cuckoos are calling; nightingales, which will soon be gone from the vale, are fluting in the copses; and down by the stream's side, where willow-herbs are already topping the sword-leaved sedges, a sedge warbler is chuckling almost incessantly. Overhead the rooks are flying homeward from the marshes; for some time a heron is in sight, winging slowly towards the heronry in Holkham Park. At the approach of an angler, brushing his way through the lush grass, a water rat dives suddenly from the bank of the stream; for a while a solitary landrail crakes amid a tangle of nettle and hedge parsley in a field corner. In Stiffkey village men and women are chatting across garden fences and on doorsteps; up and down the narrow street scores of house martins are chasing moths and midges. So peaceful is this lovely vale, so contented seem the dwellers in it, that it is hard to believe that The Lantern at Blakeney Church. the inhabitants of Stiffkey have been accused of being a degenerate folk, more especially some of the men, who are said to be content to live on the hard-won earnings of their wives and daughters. True, I see a few unkempt loafers in the little groups of gossipers; but they are not more numerous than in other villages I have entered in the course of my travels. Yet it is an undeniable fact that many of the women of Stiffkey are mainly responsible for the maintenance of their homes and families, and that they do this by following an 230 WELLS CH. VII occupation which soon undermines their health and is as hard and wearisome as any work well can be. They are cocklegatherers. When the tide has ebbed as many as fifty of them often go down on to the muddy coast flats, where, bare-legged and often exposed to biting winds, they collect such heavy loads of shell-fish that they can hardly carry them. But carry them they do, staggering under their weight, back to the pleasant little village in the vale, from whence they are sent to the market at Lynn. By a lonesome road, here and there affording glimpses of distant ooze flats and sea creeks growing chill and grey as the daylight wanes, I find my way into Wells, which I reach just in time to mingle with the latest loiterers on its quaint old quay. Wells calls itself a seaport; but for all one sees or hears of the sea from the quay to-night it might be miles away. A flood tide, however, is filling the river; and a few small sea-going craft loading at the wharves plainly prove that it is possible to sail from Wells to the waters of the great deep. By daylight I find that wide and oozy marshes lie between the town and the sea; and I hear a story of a man who was lost in a fog on the marshes and not found until he had spent a day and night there. Stiffkey, near Wells. WALSINGHAM, HOUGHTON, AND SANDRINGHAM THAT Wells is a dull little town there is no denying. The fact that it is a seaport contributes little to its attractiveness. There are towns miles up the Broadland rivers which possess nearly all the maritime features of which Wells can boast, and a greater wharf space by the riverside. But the country inland and east and west of the town, though not all so lovely as the Vale of Stiffkey, is remarkably interesting. Presently I shall leave Wells by a road running almost due south, and a few miles' journey will bring me to the ruins of the famous shrine of Walsingham. Not far to the left of that road are the remains of Binham Priory, which in King John's reign experienced so long a siege that its unfortunate monks had to drink rain water and eat bran bread. Adjoining Binham is Langham, where Captain Marryat lived and amused himself by working a wild fowl decoy; while within a mile or two of Wells, near the road to Binham, is the snakeshaped camp of Warham, a unique and perfect earthwork 232 HOLKHAM HALL CHAP. believed to have been constructed by the ninth century Norse sea rovers who ravaged and settled upon the coast. Burnham Thorpe, the birthplace of Lord Nelson, lies just beyond the Earl of Leicester's Holkham estate-there is a road to it through Holkham Park. In a directly opposite direction, on the borders of Langham, is Cockthorpe, the native village of another famous admiral, Sir Cloudesley Shovel. The road to Holkham is a rather dreary one, and no one who has not special permission to view the art treasures preserved in the hall can be advised to travel it; but the history of the Holkham estate is not uninteresting. To read of Holkham as it was a little more than a century ago and then see it to-day, is to be convinced that Thomas William Coke, who in his day was better known as "Coke of Norfolk," was a very clever man. On the vast estate to which he succeeded on the death of his uncle's widow his enterprise wrought a wonderful transformation scene. He was wont to say that when he first knew Holkham it was no uncommon thing for two rabbits to be found fighting for the possession of a blade of grass; this being his way of asserting that the ground was almost absolutely barren. The entire surface soil of the estate consisted of sand, and it seemed a hopeless task to try and make it agriculturally productive; but underneath the sand a stratum of marl was found, and by digging up and spreading the marl the nature and value of the land underwent a great change. Where only rye had been grown, large crops of wheat and barley were raised; as a stock-breeding centre Holkham became famous all over England; and to "Coke of Norfolk " was due the discredited mangel-wurzel's reinstatement in public favour. So it is little wonder that this great landowner's name and opinions had great weight not only in Norfolk but all over the country; that his portrait is found in the guildhalls of the chief county towns; and that his statue adorns the portal of East Dereham Corn Exchange. An inscription over the main entrance to Holkham Hall announces that "This seat, on an |