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YOXFORD

CHAP.

opinion of a Framlingham shopkeeper, who, however, as he lived just outside the confines of the "garden," may have been jealous of its popularity. He told me an amusing tale of innocent pleasure-seekers, lured by the graphic word-painting of a famous journalist, coming with their friends and families to this Suffolk "haunt of ancient peace," and returning by the next train, indignant and mortified, because the place contained no lodging-houses and its inhabitants had not yet learnt that there was "money" in their rose-decked hedges and sunny pastures. But the Yoxford folk were not slow to realise that they had been "discovered," and the host of the Three Tuns has shown his fellow-villagers how to cater for the rustically-inclined citizen, who when he arrives at Yoxford finds that, like Brer Rabbit, they have learnt to "lay low and say nuffin" when the charms of their locality are enthusiastically described.

It may be said that I am treating Yoxford unfairly, and judging it by its early spring aspect; and that if I came here when the leaves are on the trees and the lanes fragrant with woodbine and eglantine I should alter my opinion of the place. But it happens that I have, as we say in Norfolk, "summered and wintered" the "Garden of Suffolk"; and while I cannot deny that it is a delightful district in early summer or when its fields are golden with corn, I cannot admit that it possesses unique attractions. One thing, however, is greatly in its favour, and to that is due my readiness to leave it! It is only a short distance from the Suffolk coast, and from that part of the coast where the ruins of desolated Dunwich brood sadly by the sea. To favourably compare Dunwich with Yoxford would, no doubt, strike the latter's inhabitants as a piece of impertinence; but there must be many people who would rather muse among the fallen masonry of the weather-beaten church on the cliff, and listen to the roaring of the waves that roll shoreward over the site of the vanished city, than idle amid the mowers in the hayfield and the reapers in the corn. So it is without any backward glances that I hasten over the few miles of winding road

II

DUNWICH

39

between Yoxford and the sea; and as soon as the little village of Westleton is left behind me, and I enter upon a stretch of heathland road, all I can think of is the story of the wasted seaport to which I am bound. Like the tales of the Lost Atlantis and the mythical land of Lyonnesse, the story of Dunwich seizes upon the imagination; though when one sees how little remains of what may once have been the chief city of East Anglia it is difficult to believe that Dunwich, too, was not a phantom city of a land of dreams. Indeed, as one approaches the isolated but delightful little hamlet which now

bears its name, the impression that the story is simply a myth becomes almost a conviction: it is only when you emerge from the cloister-like woodland footpath which skirts Grey Friars, the old home of men who for many years represented the now disenfranchised borough, and see the ruins of All Saints' church and the Franciscan convent on the wasting cliff, that you are willing to admit there may be something in it after all. Below, the sea frets the base of the cliffs: unsatisfied with its victories it still strives to dislodge from its precarious position the last of the old town's many shrines. Away to the north the coast takes a sickle bend, beyond which are the red roofs of South

40

DUNWICH

CHAP.

wold and its white lighthouse tower. Drawn up on the beach are half a dozen 'longshore boats-the only craft which now venture out from a place which sent out "barks" to the Iceland fishing, and warships manned by Dunwich men. Alone and neglected, with weeds of the wilderness growing freely amid its fallen stones, All Saints' still defies the winds and sea; but it has suffered sadly, and it cannot be long before the beachmen, after some stormy winter night, will go down to the shore and find that this church has gone the way of St. Leonard's, St. Martin's, St. Nicholas', and the rest of Dunwich's vanished churches. The ruins of the old convent, which, "flowerfondled, clasp'd in ivy's close caress," seem "allied with Nature yet apart," will last longer--some centuries longer, it may be— but their time, too, will come, and then there will be nothing left to tell of Dunwich's past glories except a few musty deeds and municipal seals. The sea, on still, sunny days, will show as calm a surface as it does to-day, untroubled by the secrets it holds; and when the storms rave and the sea roars the only laments for the lost city will be the mournful voice of the wind among the fir trees and the wailing of the wind-blown gulls.

Let me try and glean some grains of truth from the luxuriant crop of legends and traditions harvested by the old-time chroniclers. It will be no easy task, for the traditional splendour of Dunwich appealed to the imagination of the old historians, whose pages not only reflect it, but intensify its marvels and glories. Nothing would please me better than to be able to believe that there was a time when Dunwich possessed sixty churches-a greater number than even Norwich, the "City of Churches," can boast; but I can find definite mention of less than a dozen, and of these only All Saints', this desolate ruin on the cliff, remains. Still, it was as an ecclesiastical centre that the Dunwyk of the Saxons became renowned. When Felix of Burgundy, in prompt response to the appeal of Sigebert, King of the East Angles,

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INTRODUCTION OF CHRISTIANITY

41

came over to England, it was here that he made his way almost as soon as he landed on the Norfolk coast. It must have been some time about the middle of the seventh century that he began his work among the East Anglian pagans whose benighted condition had stirred the heart of their Christian king, for when Sigebert made him bishop of East Anglia, he was consecrated by Archbishop Honorius. Felix died in 647Godwinus tells us the exact day, the eighth of March—and it may have been that the demands of his large diocese were too much for his strength and shortened his life; for when, in

699, Bisus was appointed to the see, he soon found it impossible to minister satisfactorily to both the North folk and the South folk. So he divided his diocese into two parts, and gave Norfolk a see at North Elmham, where it remained until Herbert de Lozinga came over with the Conqueror, and removed it to Norwich. As to the Suffolk bishopric, it seems to have been reunited with that of Norfolk about 870, when Dunwich was deprived of its ecclesiastical importance. When one remembers that it was Felix who brought Christianity into East Anglia, and that Dunwich was the centre from which the

42

A "TOWNE OF GRETE FORSE"

CHAP.

great new influence spread, it seems a pity that the pages of Bede, William of Malmesbury, and Godwinus tell us so little concerning that great event. Missionary enterprise was not widely advertised in Saxon times.

Episcopal dignity alone would never have made Dunwich famous. It was its position on the coast and its fine harbour (how utterly gone!) which gained it wealth and prosperity. Some idea of how great was that prosperity can be formed when we read that Dunwich had to pay an 66 aid" three times as large as that of Ipswich when a daughter of Henry II. was married. By that time it was as important a port as any on the coast; it carried on a considerable maritime trade with France, and was strongly fortified. Its approaches were "howsed over and strongly gated," so that "the towne was of grete forse and strong enowghe to keep out a greate number of people." It was looked upon, indeed, as impregnable. A manuscript in the British Museum states that "Robert, Earl of Leicester, which took pte with Henry, the sonne of King Henry the Second, came to the said towne of Dunwich, to have taken it against the King. But when he came neere, and beheld the strength thereof, it was terror and feare unto him to behold it; and soe retyred both he and his people." That the town could be as active in attack as it was strong in defence was proved in the reign of Henry II., when the "men of Dunwich, at their own proper costs and charges, built, for the defence of the realm, eleven ships of war, well furnished with munition, most of them carrying seventy-two men each, the rest fifty, forty-five, and forty, apiece. These sailed from the port of Plymouth with the King's brother, Edmund, Earl of Leicester and Lancaster, and other true loyal subjects, for France; and remained on the coast of Gascony from St. Andrew's day unto the feast of Pentecost following, during which time they served the King without pay, and had four ships with their artillery taken and destroyed by the enemy."

The manuscript in the British Museum was written in 1573,