DUNWICH, OR THE RUINED CITY. "What hids't thou in thy treasure caves and cells, HEMANS. On the eastern coast of Suffolk, 28 miles N. E. of Ipswich, stands Dunwich, now, little more than a mean village, but once ranking as a large and populous place, and from its decay, well known by the name of the "Ruined City." The great enemy which has destroyed all that Dunwich might have once possessed is the neighbouring sea, whose ceaseless waves, year after year, have with slow, but certain approaches, undermined successively-fortifications, churches, mounds, and buildings, flourishing within the walls of this ancient place. On the bleak and exposed coast of Suffolk, the same insidious enemy is still at work, and future years will have to record the destruction of objects and sites, that, in our days, have their own flourishing existence. Gardner, the historian of ancient Dunwich, quoting from Stowe, says, that "the oldest of the inhabitants of this Neighbourhood, report that Dunwich in ancient time, was a city surrounded by a stone wall, and brazen gates; had fifty-two churches, chapels, religious houses, and hospitals; a King's palace, a Bishop's seat, a Mayor's mansion, and a mint: as many top-ships as churches, and not fewer windmills." Taking the report of "the oldest of the inhabitants" to be correct, this city containing fifty-two religious edifices, must have been, to say no more, of great extent. The same author details, that his curiosity being excited by the relation, upon a visit to the spot-he beheld, as in part confirmation of the words of the old chronicler-the remains of ramparts-some token of middlegate the foundations of fallen down edifices, and tottering fragments of noble structures—remains of the dead exposed-and naked wells divested of the ground about them, by the waves of the ocean. Although there are no records existing, which can afford information upon the ancient extent of Dunwich, yet many notices have been preserved, detailing various devastations of the waves, which reducing the number of buildings, led gradually to its present dismantled condition. These notices are brief. We find that The church of St. Felix, and a cell of monks, were lost at an exceedingly early period. In the year 1286, Dunwich suffered considerably, by the effects of a storm. In the 1st Edward IIIrd. the old part of the town was rendered utterly useless. A manuscript consulted by Gardner, says, that previously to the twenty-third year of Edward IIIrd. a great part of the town, and upwards of 400 houses paying rent to the fee farm, with certain shops and windmills were devoured by the sea. The churches of St. Martin, and St. Nicholas, thrown down by the sea, in the 14th century. In 1535, "the sea eat away the shore, near to Black Friars." In 1540, the townspeople were under the necessity of removing the church or chapel of St. John the Baptist, and before the end of the century, the chapel of St. Francis, St. Catherine, and St. Anthony, were cast down by the sea-" also South-gate, Gilden gate, and not one quarter of the town left standing." In 1570, storms injured the town in a considerable degree. In 1608, the road which led down to the coast, was swallowed up, and another by a new route which it was hoped would not share the fate of the other, was cut through some private grounds. During the reign of Charles 1st. the Temple, an establishment belonging to the Knights Templars, was thrown down and washed away. In 1677, the sea had found its way to the Market place, and the townsmen anticipating the destruction of the place, pulled down and sold the lead of the Market Cross. In 1680, another demolition of houses took place. In 1702, the townsmen were under the necessity of breaking down the church dedicated to St. Peter. In 1715, "the jail was undermined." In 1729, "the utmost bound of St. Peter's cemetery, gave place to the exulting waves." The next devastation took place in December 1740, the particulars of which are thus rendered by Gardner. "The wind blowing very hard about north-east, with a continuance for several days, occasioned great seas, doing much damage on the coast during that time, by inundations, breaking down the banks, and overflowing many marshes, &c. The sad effects thereof were severely felt by Dunwich, when a great deal of its cliffs were washed away, with the last remains of St. Nicholas's Church-yard; and the great road heretofore leading into the town from the Key; leaving several naked wells, tokens of ancient buildings, and from Maison-dieu-Lane northwards, a continued scene of confusion. Part of the old key, built with stone, lay bare; making canals cross the beach, through which the river had communications with the sea, to the hindrance of the people on foot travelling that way, for some days. King's-Holm, (alias Leonard's-Marsh) heretofore valued at 200, and then at 100 pounds per annum, laid under water, and much shingle and sand thrown thereon from off the beach; and rendering it ever since of little worth; much of the pasture, and of their arable Land, destroyed. The sea raged with such fury that Cock and Hen-Hills (which the preceding summer were upwards of forty-feet high, and in the winter partly washed away) this year, had their heads levell'd with their bases, and the ground about them so rent and torn, that the foundation of St. Francis's Chapel, (which was laid between the said Hills) was discovered; where, besides the ruins of the walls, were five round stones near of a bigness; the dimensions of one (I took) was four feet the diameter, and near two the thickness. There was likewise a circle of large stumps of piles about twenty-four feet circumference. The bounds of the cemetery were staked; within which the secret repositories of the dead were exposed to open view; several skeletons, on the ouze, divested of their coverings; some lying in pretty good order, others interrupted, and scattered, as the surges carried them. Also a stone coffin, wherein were human bones covered with tiles. Before a conveniency offered for removing the coffin, it was broke into two pieces (by the violence of the sea) which serve now for steps at each foot of Deering-bridge." At the same time, and near the chapel, the pipes of an aqueduct were found; some of lead, others of grey earth, like that of some urns. On the lowest part of the Chapel's yard was the flag, retaining the old dead grass; and in several places, the impression of the spade; although it had been (beyond the memory of the eldest person in the town) raised four or five feet high with made earth, bearing good grass, corn, and turnips; a crop of the latter then growing thereon, but at that time was reduced to beach, over which the sea plays ever since at high tides. Between that and Maison-dieu-Lane many roots of trees were washed bare." Since this period, Dunwich has experienced other assaults of the ocean, and its present state distinctively bears out the poetical appellation applied to it—namely, that of " the Ruined City." Dunwich is historically celebrated as being the seat of the first bishop of East Anglia. The primary Diocesan was St. Felix, a pious priest from Burgundy brought over to preach christianity, by Sigebert, an East Anglian monarch who flourished about 636. Felix, fixed his seat at Dunwich. An old rhyme says― "At Donmok than was Felix first bishop, Of Estangle and taught the Christian Faith, A bishoprick also existed at North Elmham, and the two sees were afterwards united. As the casual visitor gazes upon the sea from the hill on which the "ruined city" is situate, he is met by the reflection, that perhaps beneath the very point of glossy surface upon which his eye may rest, though far out upon the wave, lies the remnants of some ancient building, that with others, gave to Dunwich its grandeur, beauty, or renown. Here says the historian, once stood "a king's palace." The name of him who reigned within its court, like the building itself, is now unknown. The waves of the sea have swallowed one, as the waves of time have engulphed the other-but perchance it may be, that under yon dancing sparkle of light, the very stones of the "king's house," lie in current driven heaps, attesting the fact of the existence of its own structure, but forbidden to settle the speculations of those who yet meditate above them. But, above other things than the palace of some ancient British monarch, roll the bleak waters of these northern seas. Many a tall steeple is here laid low. Hundreds too, of pleasant homes have here been toppled down. They lie "Full fathom five beneath the wave." -the memory of their happy firesides washed out by the briny flood, and not a chimney stack, or an old gable left, to remind us of their former existence. Yet the time may come, when the waters which yet chafe the coast by one mighty movement of nature having receded from the shore, these buried remnants of an ancient and renowned abode of man may be disclosed to view, and the antiquaries of an age yet to |