The Sea Coast. J. Steers A.

      FIG. 7 Orford Ness. (a) Part of Coastal Chart said to be temp. Henry VIII; (b) Map, temp. Elizabeth; (c) Norden's Map, 1601. The position of Orford Castle is shown on the two earlier maps. See also Fig. 36

The earliest map of this part of the coast is part of a chart extending from Gorleston to the Orwell, and may have been prepared in connection with coast defence schemes. It is an attractive but rather imaginative piece of cartography, and marks the entrance to Orford Haven close to what we now call Stonyditch Point. It is not a map from which we can make measurements. It carries no date, but there is some reason for supposing that it appeared about 1530. Granting that, and assuming that the end of the spit was then more or less in the place suggested by the map, we can only conclude that the spit grew with great rapidity between 1530 and 1601 (Norden). But by Henry VIII’s time the prosperity of Orford had declined: its rise had corresponded with the building of the Castle in 1165 when “shingle had begun to collect at and upon the headland, Orford Ness. The town quickly developed from the small hamlet of Sudbourne to a thriving port, and finally to a flourishing borough standing at the very mouth of the haven.”¹ This last statement is significant. When the shingle of the Ness had reached the neighbourhead of Stonyditch Point it would form a protection to the port of Orford. Moreover, an inspection of Stonyditch Point today shows that a number of shingle ridges end there, implying that for a considerable time the mouth of the river was approximately in that position. If this argument is sound, the Henry VIII map, which in any case is a kind of picture of the coast rather than a map in the ordinary sense, represents the coast much as it was in Henry II’s time—at the period when the Castle was built and Orford was at its zenith. The gradual decay of the town is intimately linked with the menace of the ever-growing spit, but other factors have, of course, also played a part (see Fig. 36).

      Orford is a spectacular example, but similar histories apply to other east coast havens, including Southwold and Yarmouth. The smaller havens of past times at Benacre and Thorpe have been completely blocked by shingle. On the Norfolk coast the westward growth of Blakeney Point was one of the main factors that led to the decay of the combined port of Blakeney-Cley-Wiveton. In a Muster Roll of 1570 these three ports exceed King’s Lynn both in number of ships and mariners, and in 1582 a record shows that they jointly possessed seven ships of more than 100 tons, whereas Lynn had two and Yarmouth four. In these and all similar cases, the growth in the size of ships was a main factor in the decay of shallow water ports. Moreover, the final blow to the small ports of North Norfolk occurred when the railways were built. Even at Thornham, now truly derelict, corn was exported and coal imported almost within the memory of some still living.

Many ports and harbours on other coasts tell a similar tale, but seldom have we reliable evidence of coastal changes and evolution. Edward I built his castle at Harlech in 1286. Since it has a water-gate, it presumably at one time had easy access to the sea. There is no known document which illustrates the condition and nature of the coastline when the Castle was built. There are, however, several references in the Public Record Office that make it clear that Harlech was a port, and that the actual harbour was probably at, or very close to, the Castle (see Fig. 28). Today the Castle on its rock is well back from the sea. The whole area of Morfa Harlech has been photographed from the air, and a careful inspection of the mosaic and a study of the shore processes and features of this part of Cardigan Bay indicate that what is now Morfa Harlech began its growth as a small shingle and sand spit south of Harlech. Growth to the north continued, and in 1808 the marsh within the spit was embanked. From what can still be seen, and also from inference, creeks of some size intersected the marsh, and the havens and creeks so often referred to in the documents dealing with Harlech, may well have been those in the marsh which developed pari passu with the growing spit, which in 1286 had grown only a little so that ships could easily sail round it and come into the harbour it enclosed. After the conquest of the Welsh, and as a result of the constant growth of the spit, Harlech as a port declined in importance. It is more than likely that for some time small ships could still sail round the northern end of the spit into calm creeks within, but a time came when this was difficult, and the final embanking rendered it impossible.¹

Another form of rapid change in coastal areas occurs where dunes are advancing. The full history of this subject is difficult and complicated, since in some cases, at any rate, it may be interconnected with slight vertical changes in the relative levels of land and sea. In South Wales there are extensive expanses of dunes, and Higgins² has made a careful investigation of their growth. There are many instances of encroachment of dunes over settlements and farm lands. The Via Julia, dating from the first century A.D., may have passed through what is now the north-eastern corner of Kenfig Burrows. The local settlement was probably in use by the end of the ninth century. There was certainly a castle in 1152, and the port was in use in 1184. The church dates back to before 1154. The new, i.e. Mawdlam church, was built on higher ground in 1261, and Kenfig Pool existed in 1365. The old church was used until 1397, and the Via Julia was open until 1344, and the Castle occupied until 1403. Later, the site was obliterated by sand. “The evidence … makes it clear that in this region there was no apparent danger from moving sand at the close of the twelfth century, but that within a hundred years the sand in the immediate vicinity of the town itself was a danger, and that by 1485 moving sand was affecting the area beyond the town ….”¹ This was typical of other dunes in South Wales, and Higgins finds the evidence throughout reasonably consistent. No danger from moving sand seems to have been noticed up to the early part of the thirteenth century. There was a fairly sudden change in the fourteenth, and the records all seem to suggest that these storms blew up much sand, which greatly damaged property and agricultural land. We know that not only here but elsewhere the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were times of great storminess, and that changes in coastal areas were then often considerable, especially in the Low Countries. It still remains to be proved whether this period was one in which a slight change of level, strongly suspected in Romney Marsh, also took place.

In Cornwall, too, there is plenty of evidence about the movement of sand and the burying of churches and other buildings. We may illustrate the matter with reference to Perranzabuloe. Dexter² has sifted fact from fiction and we cannot do better than follow him. The legend of the Three Churches is this: Long ago a great sandstorm overwhelmed the parish of Perranzabuloe (Sanctus Piranus in Sabulo). The oratory or shrine of St. Piran was buried and lost for centuries. It was accidentally unearthed about a century ago. With the burying of the shrine (i.e. the first church), the parishioners built a second, which also suffered a similar fate, but since the threat was anticipated the parishioners took down this second Church stone by stone and re-erected it as the third church at Lamborne. Only the foundations of this second church were left in the sandhills, and a cross was set up to mark its site.

So much for legend; excavation and analysis have produced the facts. The Oratory was built at the head of a little fertile combe in the sixth or seventh century. It is not quite certain if St. Piran actually built it. It was an Oratory and not a parish church. Gradually accumulating sand caused the adjacent spring to change its course so as to threaten the western wall of the Oratory; consequently, a stone dam was built, probably during the eleventh century. The relics of St. Piran