Fig. 31.Tower of the buried Church of Eccles, Norfolk.

Tower of the buried Church of Eccles, Norfolk, A. D. 1839.
The inland slope of the hills of blown sand is shown in this view, with the lighthouse of Hasborough in the distance.

On the same coast, says Mr. R. C. Taylor, the ancient villages of Shipden, Wimpwell, and Eccles have disappeared; several manors and large portions of neighboring parishes having, piece after piece, been swallowed up; nor has there been any intermission, from time immemorial, in the ravages of the sea along a line of coast twenty miles in length, in which these places stood.405 Of Eccles, however, a monument still remains in the rained tower of the old church, which is half buried in the dunes of sand within a few paces (60?) of the sea-beach (fig. 31). So early as 1605 the inhabitants petitioned James I. for a reduction of taxes, as 300 acres of land, and all their houses, save fourteen, had then been destroyed by the sea. Not one half that number of acres now remains in the parish, and hills of blown sand now occupy the site of the houses which were still extant in 1605. When I visited the spot in 1839, the sea was fast encroaching on the sand-hills, and had laid open on the beach the foundations of a house fourteen yards square, the upper part of which had evidently been pulled down before it had been buried under sand. The body of the church has also been long buried, but the tower still remains visible.

M. E. de Beaumont has suggested that sand-dunes in Holland and other countries may serve as natural chronometers, by which the date of the existing continents may be ascertained. The sands, he says, are continually blown inland by the force of the winds, and by observing the rate of their march we may calculate the period when the movement commenced.406 But the example just given will satisfy every geologist that we cannot ascertain the starting-point of dunes, all coasts being liable to waste, and the shores of the Low Countries in particular, being not only exposed to inroads of the sea, but, as M. de Beaumont himself has well shown, having even in historical times undergone a change of level. The dunes may indeed, in some cases, be made use of as chronometers, to enable us to assign a minimum of antiquity to existing coast-lines; but this test must be applied with great caution, so variable is the rate at which the sands may advance into the interior.

Hills of blown sand, between Eccles and Winterton, have barred up and excluded the tide for many hundred years from the mouths of several small estuaries; but there are records of nine breaches, from 20 to 120 yards wide, having been made through these, by which immense damage was done to the low grounds in the interior. A few miles south of Happisburgh, also, are hills of blown sand, which extend to Yarmouth. These dunes afford a temporary protection to the coast, and an inland cliff, about a mile long, at Winterton, shows clearly that at that point the sea must have penetrated formerly farther than at present.

Silting up of estuaries/—At Yarmouth, the sea has not advanced upon the sands in the slightest degree since the reign of Elizabeth. In the time of the Saxons, a great estuary extended as far as Norwich, which city, is represented; even in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, as "situated on the banks of an arm of the sea." The sands whereon Yarmouth is built, first became firm and habitable ground about the year 1008, from which time a line of dunes has gradually increased in height and breadth, stretching across the whole entrance of the ancient estuary, and obstructing the ingress of the tides so completely, that they are only admitted by the narrow passage which the river keeps open, and which has gradually shifted several miles to the south. The ordinary tides at the river's mouth rise, at present, only to the height, of three or four feet, the spring tides to about eight or nine.

By the exclusion of the sea, thousands of acres in the interior have become cultivated lands; and, exclusive of smaller pools, upwards of sixty freshwater lakes have been formed, varying in depth from fifteen to thirty feet, and in extent from one acre to twelve hundred.407 The Yare, and other rivers, frequently communicate with these sheets of water; and thus they are liable to be filled up gradually with lacustrine and fluviatile deposits, and to be converted into land covered with forests. Yet it must not be imagined, that the acquisition of new land fit for cultivation in Norfolk and Suffolk indicates any permanent growth of the eastern limits of our island to compensate its reiterated losses. No delta can form on such a shore.

Immediately off Yarmouth, and parallel to the shore, is a great range of sand-banks, the shape of which varies slowly from year to year, and often suddenly after great storms. Captain Hewitt, R. N., found in these banks, in 1836, a broad channel sixty-five feet deep, where there was only a depth of four feet during a prior survey in 1822. The sea had excavated to the depth of sixty feet in the course of fourteen years, or perhaps a shorter period. The new channel thus formed serves at present (1838), for the entrance of ships into Yarmouth Roads; and the magnitude of this change shows how easily a new set of the waves and currents might endanger the submergence of the land gained within the ancient estuary of the Yare.

That great banks should be thrown across the mouths of estuaries on our eastern coast, where there is not a large body of river-water to maintain an open channel, is perfectly intelligible, when we bear in mind that the marine current, sweeping along the coast, is charged with the materials of wasting cliffs, and ready to form a bar anywhere the instant its course is interrupted or checked by any opposing stream. The mouth of the Yare has been, within the last five centuries, diverted about four miles to the south. In like manner it is evident that, at some remote period, the river Alde entered the sea at Aldborough, until its ancient outlet was barred up and at length transferred to a point no less than ten miles distant to the southwest. In this case, ridges of sand and shingle, like those of Lowestoff Ness, which will be described by and by, have been thrown up between the river and the sea; and an ancient sea-cliff is to be seen now inland.

It may be asked why the rivers on our east coast are always deflected southwards, although the tidal current flows alternately from the south and north? The cause is to be found in the superior force of what is commonly called "the flood tide from the north," a tidal wave derived from the Atlantic, a small part of which passes eastward up the English Channel, and through the Straits of Dover and then northwards, while the principal body of water, moving much more rapidly in a more open sea, on the western side of Britain, first passes the Orkneys, and then turning, flows down between Norway and Scotland, and sweeps with great velocity along our eastern coast. It is well known that the highest tides on this coast are occasioned by a powerful northwest wind, which raises the eastern part of the Atlantic, and causes it to pour a greater volume of water into the German Ocean. This circumstance of a violent off-shore wind being attended with a rise of the waters, instead of a general retreat of the sea, naturally excites the wonder of the inhabitants of our coast. In many districts they look with confidence for a rich harvest of that valuable manure, the sea-weed, when the north-westerly gales prevail, and are rarely disappointed.

Fig. 32.

Map of Lowestoff Ness, Suffolk.

Map of Lowestoff Ness, Suffolk.408

a, a. The dotted lines express a series of sand and shingle, forming the extremity of the triangular space called the Ness.

b, b, b. The dark line represents the inland cliff on which the town of Lowestoff stands, between which and the sea is the Ness.

Coast of Suffolk.—The cliffs of Suffolk, to which we next proceed, are somewhat less elevated than those of Norfolk, but composed of similar alternations of clay, sand, and gravel. From Gorleston in Suffolk, to within a few miles north of Lowestoff, the cliffs are slowly undermined. Near the last-mentioned town, there is an inland cliff about sixty feet high, the sloping talus of which is covered with turf and heath. Between the cliff and the sea is a low flat tract of sand called the Ness, nearly three miles long, and for the most part out of reach of the highest tides. The point of the Ness projects from the base of the original cliff to the distance of 660 yards. This accession of land, says Mr. Taylor, has been effected at distinct and distant intervals, by the influence of currents running between the land and a shoal about a mile off Lowestoff, called the Holm Sand. The lines of growth in the Ness are indicated by a series of concentric ridges or embankments inclosing limited areas, and several of these ridges have been formed within the observation of persons now living. A rampart of heavy materials is first thrown up to an unusual altitude by some extraordinary tide, attended with a violent gale. Subsequent tides extend the base of this high bank of shingle, and the interstices are then filled with sand blown from the beach. The Arundo and other marine plants by degrees obtain a footing; and creeping along the ridge, give solidity to the mass, and form in some cases a matted covering of turf. Meanwhile another mound is forming externally, which by the like process rises and gives protection to the first. If the sea forces its way through one of the external and incomplete mounds, the breach is soon repaired. After a while the marine plants within the areas inclosed by these embankments are succeeded by a better species of herbage affording good pasturage, and the sands become sufficiently firm to support buildings.

Destruction of Dunwich by the sea.—Of the gradual destruction of Dunwich, once the most considerable seaport on this coast, we have many authentic records. Gardner, in his history of that borough, published in 1754, shows, by reference to documents, beginning with Doomsday Book, that the cliffs at Dunwich, Southwold, Eastern, and Pakefield, have been always subject to wear away. At Dunwich, in particular, two tracts of land which had been taxed in the eleventh century, in the time of King Edward the Confessor, are mentioned in the Conqueror's survey, made but a few years afterwards, as having been devoured by the sea. The losses, at a subsequent period, of a monastery,—at another of several churches,—afterwards of the old port,—then of four hundred houses at once,—of the church of St. Leonard, the high-road, town-hall, jail, and many other buildings, are mentioned, with the dates when they perished. It is stated that, in the sixteenth century, not one-quarter of the town was left standing; yet the inhabitants retreating inland, the name was preserved, as has been the case with many other ports when their ancient site has been blotted out. There is, however, a church of considerable antiquity still standing, the last of twelve mentioned in some records. In 1740, the laying open of the churchyard of St. Nicholas and St. Francis, in the sea-cliffs, is well described by Gardner, with the coffins and skeletons exposed to view—some lying on the beach, and rocked

"In cradle of the rude imperious surge."

Of these cemeteries no remains can now be seen. Ray also says, "that ancient writings make mention of a wood a mile and a half to the east of Dunwich, the site of which must at present be so far within the sea."409 This city, once so flourishing and populous, is now a small village, with about twenty houses, and one hundred inhabitants.

There is an old tradition, "that the tailors sat in their shops at Dunwich, and saw the ships in Yarmouth Bay;" but when we consider how far the coast at Lowestoff Ness projects between these places, we cannot give credit to the tale, which, nevertheless, proves how much the inroads of the sea in times of old had prompted men of lively imagination to indulge their taste for the marvellous.

Gardner's description of the cemeteries laid open by the waves reminds us of the scene which has been so well depicted by Bewick,410 and of which numerous points on the same coast might have suggested the idea. On the verge of a cliff, which the sea has undermined, are represented the unshaken tower and western end of an abbey. The eastern aisle is gone, and the pillars of the cloister are soon to follow. The waves have almost isolated the promontory, and invaded the cemetery, where they have made sport with the mortal relics, and thrown up a skull upon the beach. In the foreground is seen a broken tombstone, erected, as its legend tells, "to perpetuate the memory"—of one whose name is obliterated, as is that of the county for which he was "Custos Rotulorum." A cormorant is perched on the monument, defiling it, as if to remind some moralizer like Hamlet, of "the base uses" to which things sacred may be turned. Had this excellent artist desired to satirize certain popular theories of geology, he might have inscribed the stone to the memory of some philosopher who taught "the permanency of existing continents"—"the era of repose"—"the impotence of modern causes."

The incursions of the sea at Aldborough, were formerly very destructive, and this borough is known to have been once situated a quarter of a mile east of the present shore. The inhabitants continued to build farther inland, till they arrived at the extremity of their property, and then the town decayed greatly; but two sand-banks, thrown up at a short distance, now afford a temporary safeguard to the coast. Between these banks and the present shore, where the current now flows, the sea is twenty-four feet deep on the spot where the town formerly stood.

Essex.—Harwich is said to have owed its rise to the destruction of Orwell, a town which stood on the spot now called "the west rocks," and was overwhelmed by an inroad of the sea since the Conquest. Apprehensions have been entertained that the isthmus on which Harwich stands may at no remote period become an island, for the sea may be expected to make a breach near Lower Dover Court, where Beacon Cliff is composed of horizontal beds of London clay containing septaria. It had wasted away considerably between the years 1829 and 1838, at both which periods I examined this coast. In that short interval several gardens and many houses had been swept into the sea, and in April, 1838, a whole street was threatened with destruction. The advance of the sea is much accelerated by the traffic carried on in septaria, which are shipped off for cement as fast as they fall down upon the beach. These stones, if allowed to remain in heaps on the shore, would break the force of the waves and retard the conversion of the peninsula into an island, an event which might be followed by the destruction of the town of Harwich. Captain Washington, R. N., ascertained in 1847, that Beacon Cliff, above mentioned, which is about fifty feet high, had given way at the rate of forty feet in forty-seven years, between 1709 and 1756; eighty feet between 1756 and 1804; and three hundred and fifty feet between the latter period and 1841; showing a rapidly accelerated rate of destruction.411

Among other losses it is recorded that, since the year 1807, a field called the Vicar's Field, which belonged to the living of Harwich, has been overwhelmed;412 and in the year 1820 there was a considerable space between the battery at Harwich, built in the beginning of the present century, and the sea; part of the fortification had been swept away in 1829, and the rest then overhung the water.

At Walton Naze, in the same county, the cliffs, composed of London clay, capped by the shelly sands of the crag, reach the height of about 100 feet, and are annually undermined by the waves. The old churchyard of Walton has been washed away, and the cliffs to the south are constantly disappearing.

Kent.—Isle of Sheppey.—On the coast bounding the estuary of the Thames, there are numerous examples both of the gain and loss of land. The Isle of Sheppey, which is now about six miles long by four in breadth, is composed of London clay. The cliffs on the north, which are from sixty to eighty feet high, decay rapidly, fifty acres having been lost in twenty years, between 1810 and 1830. The church at Minster, now near the coast, is said to have been in the middle of the island in 1780; and if the present rate of destruction should continue, we might calculate the period, and that not a very remote one, when the whole island will be annihilated. On the coast of the mainland, to the east of Sheppey, is Herne Bay: a place still retaining the name of a bay, although it is no longer appropriate, as the waves and currents have swept away the ancient headlands. There was formerly a small promontory in the line of the shoals where the present pier is built, by which the larger bay was divided into two, called the Upper and Lower.413

Fig. 33.

View of Reculver Church, taken in the year 1781.

View of Reculver Church, taken in the year 1781.

1. Isle of Sheppey. 2. Ancient chapel now destroyed. The cottage between this chapel and the cliff was demolished by the sea, in 1782.

Still farther east stands the church of Reculver, upon a cliff composed of clay and sand, about twenty-five feet high. Reculver (Regulvium) was an important military station in the time of the Romans, and appears, from Leland's account, to have been, so late as Henry VIII.'s reign, nearly one mile distant from the sea. In the "Gentleman's Magazine," there is a view of it, taken in 1781, which still represents a considerable space as intervening between the north wall of the churchyard and the cliff.414 Sometime before the year 1780, the waves had reached the site of the ancient Roman camp or fortification, the walls of which had continued for several years after they were undermined to overhang the sea, being firmly cemented into one mass. They were eighty yards nearer the sea than the church, and they are spoken of in the "Topographica Britannica," in the year 1780, as having recently fallen down. In 1804, part of the churchyard with some adjoining houses was washed away, and the ancient church, with its two spires, was dismantled and abandoned as a place of worship, but kept in repair as a landmark well known to mariners. I visited the spot in June, 1851, and saw human bones and part of a wooden coffin projecting from the cliff, near the top. The whole building would probably have been swept away long ere this, had not the force of the waves been checked by an artificial causeway of stones and large wooden piles driven into the sands on the beach to break the force of the waves.

Fig. 34.Reculver Church, in 1834.

Reculver Church, in 1834.

Isle of Thanet.—The isle of Thanet was, in the time of the Romans, separated from the rest of Kent by a navigable channel, through which the Roman fleets sailed on their way to and from London. Bede describes this small estuary as being, in the beginning of the eighth century, three furlongs in breadth; and it is supposed that it began to grow shallow about the period of the Norman conquest. It was so far silted up in the year 1485, that an act was then obtained to build a bridge across it; and it has since become marsh land with small streams running through it. On the coast, Bedlam Farm, belonging to the hospital of that name, lost eight acres in the twenty years preceding 1830, the land being composed of chalk from forty to fifty feet above the level of the sea. It has been computed that the average waste of the cliff between the North Foreland and the Reculvers, a distance of about eleven miles, is not less than two feet per annum. The chalk cliffs on the south of Thanet, between Ramsgate and Pegwell Bay, have on an average lost three feet per annum for the last ten years (preceding 1830).

Goodwin Sands.—The Goodwin Sands lie opposite this part of the Kentish coast. They are about ten miles in length, and are in some parts three, and in others seven, miles distant from the shore; and, for a certain space, are laid bare at low water. That they are a remnant of land, and not "a mere accumulation of sea sand," as Rennell imagined,415 may be presumed from the fact that, when the erection of a lighthouse on this shoal was in contemplation by the Trinity Board in the year 1817, it was found, by borings, that the bank consisted of fifteen feet of sand, resting on blue clay; and, by subsequent borings, the subjacent chalk has been reached. An obscure tradition has come down to us, that the estates of Earl Goodwin, the father of Harold, who died in the year 1053, were situated here, and some have conjectured that they were overwhelmed by the flood mentioned in the Saxon chronicle, sub anno 1099. The last remains of an island, consisting, like Sheppey, of clay, may perhaps have been carried away about that time.

Fig. 35.

Shakspeare's Cliff in 1836, seen from the northeast.

Shakspeare's Cliff in 1836, seen from the northeast.

There are other records of waste in the county of Kent, as at Deal; and at Dover, where Shakspeare's Cliff, composed entirely of chalk, has suffered greatly, and continually diminishes in height, the slope of the hill being towards the land. (See fig. 35.) There was an immense landslip from this cliff in 1810, by which Dover was shaken as if by an earthquake, and a still greater one in 1772.416 We may suppose, therefore, that the view from the top of the precipice in the year 1600, when the tragedy of King Lear was written, was more "fearful and dizzy" than it is now. The best antiquarian authorities are agreed, that Dover Harbor was formerly an estuary, the sea flowing up a valley between the chalk hills. The remains found in different excavations confirm the description of the spot given by Cæsar and Antoninus, and there is clear historical evidence to prove that at an early period there was no shingle at all at Dover.417

Straits of Dover.—In proceeding from the northern parts of the German Ocean towards the Straits of Dover, the water becomes gradually more shallow, so that, in the distance of about two hundred leagues, we pass from a depth of 120 to that of 58, 38, 18, and even less than 2 fathoms. The shallowest part follows a line drawn between Romney Marsh and Boulogne. From this point the English Channel again deepens progressively as we proceed westward, so that the Straits of Dover may be said to part two seas.418

Whether England was formerly united with France has often been a favorite subject of speculation. So early as 1605 our countryman Verstegan, in his "Antiquities of the English Nation," observed that many preceding writers had maintained this opinion, but without supporting it by any weighty reasons. He accordingly endeavors himself to confirm it by various arguments, the principal of which are, first, the proximity and identity of the composition of the opposite cliffs and shores of Albion and Gallia, which, whether flat and sandy, or steep and chalky, correspond exactly with each other; secondly the occurrence of a submarine ridge, called "our Lady's Sand," extending from shore to shore at no great depth, and which, from its composition, appears to be the original basis of the isthmus; thirdly, the identity of the noxious animals in France and England, which could neither have swum across, nor have been introduced by man. Thus no one, he says, would have imported wolves, therefore "these wicked beasts did of themselves pass over." He supposes the ancient isthmus to have been about six English miles in breadth, composed entirely of chalk and flint, and in some places of no great height above the sea-level. The operation of the waves and tides, he says, would have been more powerful when the straits were narrower, and even now they are destroying cliffs composed of similar materials. He suggests the possible co-operation of earthquakes; and when we consider how many submarine forests skirt the southern and eastern shores of England, and that there are raised beaches at many points above the sea-level, containing fossil shells of recent species, it seems reasonable to suppose that such upward now in progress in Sweden and Greenland, may have greatly assisted the denuding force of "the ocean stream," Ποταμοιο μεγα σθενος Ωχεανοτο.

Folkstone.—At Folkstone, the sea undermines the chalk and subjacent strata. About the year 1716 there was a remarkable sinking of a tract of land near the sea, so that houses became visible from certain points at sea, and from particular spots on the sea cliffs, from whence they could not be seen previously. In the description of this subsidence in the Phil. Trans. 1716, it is said, "that the land consisted of a solid stony mass (chalk), resting on wet clay (gault), so that it slid forwards towards the sea, just as a ship is launched on tallowed planks." It is also stated that, within the memory of persons then living, the cliff there had been washed away to the extent of ten rods.

Encroachments of the sea at Hythe are also on record; but between this point and Rye there has been a gain of land within the times of history; the rich level tract called Romney Marsh, or Dungeness, about ten miles in width and five in breadth, and formed of silt, having received great accession. It has been necessary, however, to protect it from the sea, from the earliest periods, by embankments, the towns of Lydd and Romney being the only parts of the marsh above the level of the highest tides.419 Mr. Redman has cited numerous old charts and trustworthy authorities to prove that the average annual increase of the promontory of shingle called Dungeness amounted for two centuries, previous to 1844, to nearly six yards. Its progress, however, has fluctuated during that period; for between 1689 and 1794, a term of 105 years, the rate was as much as 8-1/4 yards per annum.420 It is ascertained that the shingle is derived from the westward. Whether the pebbles are stopped by the meeting of the tide from the north flowing through the Straits of Dover, with that which comes up the Channel from the west, as was formerly held, or by the check given to the tidal current by the waters of the Rother, as some maintain, is still a disputed question.

Rye, situated to the south of Romney Marsh, was once destroyed by the sea, but it is now two miles distant from it. The neighboring town of Winchelsea was destroyed in the reign of Edward I., the mouth of the Rother stopped up, and the river diverted into another channel. In its old bed, an ancient vessel, apparently a Dutch merchantman, was found about the year 1824. It was built entirely of oak, and much blackened.421 Large quantities of hazel-nuts, peat, and wood are found in digging in Romney Marsh.

South coast of England.—Westward of Hastings, or of St. Leonard's, the shore line has been giving way as far as Pevensey Bay, where formerly there existed a haven now entirely blocked up by shingle. The degradation has equalled for a series of years seven feet per annum in some places, and several martello towers had in consequence, before 1851, been removed by the Ordnance.422 At the promontory of Beachy Head a mass of chalk, three hundred feet in length, and from seventy to eighty in breadth, fell in the year 1813 with a tremendous crash; and similar slips have since been frequent.423

About a mile to the west of the town of Newhaven, the remains of an ancient intrenchment are seen on the brow of Castle Hill. This earthwork, supposed to be Roman, was evidently once of considerable extent and of an oval form, but the greater part has been cut away by the sea. The cliffs, which are undermined here, are high; more than one hundred feet of chalk being covered by tertiary clay and sand, from sixty to seventy feet in thickness. In a few centuries the last vestiges of the plastic clay formation on the southern borders of the chalk of the South Downs on this coast will probably be annihilated, and future geologists will learn, from historical documents, the ancient geographical boundaries of this group of strata in that direction. On the opposite side of the estuary of the Ouse, on the east of Newhaven harbor, a bed of shingle, composed of chalk flints derived from the waste of the adjoining cliffs, had accumulated at Seaford for several centuries. In the great storm of November, 1824, this bank was entirely swept away, and the town of Seaford inundated. Another great beach of shingle is now forming from fresh materials.

The whole coast of Sussex has been incessantly encroached upon by the sea from time immemorial; and, although sudden inundations only, which overwhelmed fertile or inhabited tracts, are noticed in history, the records attest an extraordinary amount of loss. During a period of no more than eighty years, there are notices of about twenty inroads, in which tracts of land of from twenty to four hundred acres in extent were overwhelmed at once, the value of the tithes being mentioned in the Taxatio Ecclesiastica.424 In the reign of Elizabeth, the town of Brighton was situated on that tract where the chain pier now extends into the sea. In the year 1665, twenty-two tenements had been destroyed under the cliff. At that period there still remained under the cliff 113 tenements, the whole of which were overwhelmed in 1703 and 1705. No traces of the ancient town are now perceptible, yet there is evidence that the sea has merely resumed its ancient position at the base of the cliffs, the site of the whole town having been merely a beach abandoned by the ocean for ages.

Hampshire.—Isle of Wight.—It would be endless to allude to all the localities on the Sussex and Hampshire coasts where the land has given way; but I may point out the relation which the geological structure of the Isle of Wight bears to its present shape, as attesting that the coast owes its outline to the continued action of the sea. Through the middle of the island runs a high ridge of chalk strata, in a vertical position, and in a direction east and west. This chalk forms the projecting promontory of Culver Cliff on the east, and of the Needles on the west; while Sandown Bay on the one side, and Compton Bay on the other, have been hollowed out of the softer sands and argillaceous strata, which are inferior, in geological position, to the chalk.

The same phenomena are repeated in the Isle of Purbeck, where the line of vertical chalk forms the projecting promontory of Handfast Point; and Swanage Bay marks the deep excavation made by the waves in the softer strata, corresponding to those of Sandown Bay.

Hurst Castle bank—progressive motion of sea beaches.—Although the loose pebbles and grains of sand composing any given line of sea-beach are carried sometimes one way, sometimes another, they have, nevertheless, an ultimate motion in one particular direction.425 Their progress, for example, on the south coast of England, is from west to east, which is owing partly to the action of the waves driven eastwards by the prevailing wind, and partly to the current, or the motion of the general body of water caused by the tides and winds. The force of the waves gives motion to pebbles which the velocity of the currents alone would be unable to carry forwards; but as the pebbles are finally reduced to sand or mud, by continual attrition, they are brought within the influence of a current; and this cause must determine the course which the main body of matter derived from wasting cliffs will eventually take.

It appears, from the observations of Mr. Palmer and others, that if a pier or groin be erected anywhere on our southern or southeastern coast to stop the progress of the beach, a heap of shingle soon collects on the western side of such artificial barriers. The pebbles continue to accumulate till they rise as high as the pier or groin, after which they pour over in great numbers during heavy gales.426

The western entrance of the Channel, called the Solent, is crossed for more than two-thirds of its width by the shingle-bank of Hurst Castle, which is about two miles long, seventy yards broad, and twelve feet high, presenting an inclined plane to the west. This singular bar consists of a bed of rounded chalk flints, resting on a submarine argillaceous base. The flints and a few other pebbles, intermixed, are derived from the waste of Hordwell, and other cliffs to the westward, where tertiary strata, capped with a covering of broken chalk flints, from five to fifty feet thick, are rapidly undermined. In the great storm of November, 1824, this bank of shingle was moved bodily forwards for forty yards towards the northeast; and certain piles, which served to mark the boundaries of two manors, were found after the storm on the opposite side of the bar. At the same time many acres of pasture land were covered by shingle, on the farm of Westover, near Lymington. But the bar was soon restored in its old position by pebbles drifted from the west; and it appears from ancient maps that it has preserved the same general outline and position for centuries.427

Mr. Austen remarks that, as a general rule, it is only when high tides concur with a gale of wind, that the sea reaches the base of cliffs so as to undermine them and throw down earth and stone. But the waves are perpetually employed in abrading and fashioning the materials already strewed over the beach. Much of the gravel and shingle is always travelling up and down, between high-water mark and a slight depth below the level of the lowest tides, and occasionally the materials are swept away and carried into deeper water. Owing to these movements every portion of our southern coast may be seen at one time or other in the condition of bare rock. Yet other beds of sand and shingle soon collect, and, although composed of new materials, invariably exhibit on the same spots precisely similar characters.428

The cliffs between Hurst Shingle Bar and Christchurch are undermined continually, the sea having often encroached for a series of years at the rate of a yard annually. Within the memory of persons now living, it has been necessary thrice to remove the coast-road farther inland. The tradition, therefore, is probably true, that the church of Hordwell was once in the middle of that parish, although now (1830) very near the sea. The promontory of Christchurch Head gives way slowly. It is the only point between Lymington and Poole Harbor, in Dorsetshire, where any hard stony masses occur in the cliffs. Five layers of large ferruginous concretions, somewhat like the septaria of the London clay, have occasioned a resistance at this point, to which we may ascribe this headland. In the mean time, the waves have cut deeply into the soft sands and loam of Poole Bay; and, after severe frosts, great landslips take place, which by degrees become enlarged into narrow ravines, or chines, as they are called, with vertical sides. One of these chines, near Boscomb, has been deepened twenty feet within a few years. At the head of each there is a spring, the waters of which have been chiefly instrumental in producing these narrow excavations, which are sometimes from 100 to 150 feet deep.

Isle of Portland.—The peninsulas of Purbeck and Portland are continually wasting away. In the latter, the soft argillaceous substratum (Kimmeridge clay) hastens the dilapidation of the superincumbent mass of limestone.

In 1655 the cliffs adjoining the principal quarries in Portland gave way to the extent of one hundred yards, and fell into the sea; and in December, 1734, a slide to the extent of 150 yards occurred on the east side of the isle, by which several skeletons buried between slabs of stone, were discovered. But a much more memorable occurrence of this nature, in 1792, occasioned probably by the undermining of the cliffs, is thus described in Hutchin's History of Dorsetshire:—"Early in the morning the road was observed to crack: this continued increasing, and before two o'clock the ground had sunk several feet, and was in one continued motion, but attended with no other noise than what was occasioned by the separation of the roots and brambles, and now and then a falling rock. At night it seemed to stop a little, but soon moved again; and, before morning, the ground from the top of the cliff to the waterside had sunk in some places fifty feet perpendicular. The extent of ground that moved was about a mile and a quarter from north to south, and 600 yards from east to west."

Formation of the Chesil Bank.—Portland is connected with the mainland by the Chesil Bank, a ridge of shingle about seventeen miles in length, and, in most places, nearly a quarter of a mile in breadth. The pebbles forming this immense barrier are chiefly siliceous, all loosely thrown together, and rising to the height of from twenty to thirty feet above the ordinary high-water mark; and at the southeastern end, which is nearest the Isle of Portland, where the pebbles are largest, forty feet. The fundamental rocks whereon the shingle rests are found at the depth of a few yards only below the level of the sea. The formation of that part of the bar which attaches Portland to the mainland may have been due to an original shoal or reef, or to the set of the tides in the narrow channel, by which the course of the pebbles, which are always coming from the west, has been arrested. It is a singular fact that, throughout the Chesil Bank, the pebbles increase gradually in size as we proceed southeastward, or as we go farther from the quarter which supplied them. Had the case been reversed, we should naturally have attributed the circumstance to the constant wearing down of the pebbles by friction, as they are rolled along a beach seventeen miles in length. But the true explanation of the phenomenon is doubtless this: the tidal current runs strongest from west to east, and its power is greater in the more open channel or farther from the land. In other words its force increases southwards, and as the direction of the bank is from northwest to southeast, the size of the masses coming from the westward and thrown ashore must always be largest where the motion of the water is most violent. Colonel Reid states that all calcareous stones rolled along from the west are soon ground into sand, and in this form they pass round Portland Island.429

The storm of 1824 burst over the Chesil Bank with great fury, and the village of Chesilton, built upon its southern extremity, was overwhelmed, with many of the inhabitants. The same storm carried away part of the Breakwater at Plymouth, and huge masses of rock, from two to five tons in weight, were lifted from the bottom of the weather side, and rolled fairly to the top of the pile. One block of limestone, weighing seven tons, was washed round the western extremity of the Breakwater, and carried 150 feet.430 The propelling power is derived in these cases from the breaking of the waves, which run fastest in shallow water, and for a short space far exceed the most rapid currents in swiftness. It was in the same month, and also during a spring-tide, that a great flood is mentioned on the coasts of England, in the year 1099. Florence of Worcester says, "On the third day of the nones of Nov. 1099, the sea came out upon the shore and buried towns and men very many, and oxen and sheep innumerable." We also read in the Saxon Chronicle, for the year 1099, "This year eke on St. Martin's mass day, the 11th of Novembre, sprung up so much of the sea flood, and so myckle harm did, as no man minded that it ever afore did, and there was the ylk day a new moon."

South of the Bill, or southern point of Portland, is a remarkable shoal in the channel at the depth of seven fathoms, called "the Shambles," consisting entirely of rolled and broken shells of Purpura lapillus, Mytilus edulis, and other species now living. This mass of light materials is always in motion, varying in height from day to day, and yet the shoal remains constant.

Dorsetshire.—Devonshire.—At Lyme Regis, in Dorsetshire, the "Church Cliffs," as they are called, consisting of lias about one hundred feet in height, gradually fell away at the rate of one yard a year, from 1800 to 1829.431

Fig. 36.Landslip, near Axmouth, Dec. 1839. (Rev. W. D. Conybeare.)

Landslip, near Axmouth, Dec. 1839. (Rev. W. D. Conybeare.)

A. Tract of Downs still remaining at their original level.

B. New ravine.

C, D. Sunk and fractured strip united to A, before the convulsion.

D, E. Bendon undercliff as before, but more fissured, and thrust forward about fifty feet, towards the sea.

F. Pyramidal crag, sunk from seventy to twenty feet in height.

G. New reef upheaved from the sea.

An extraordinary landslip occurred on the 24th of December, 1839, on the coast between Lyme Regis and Axmouth, which has been described by the Rev. W. D. Conybeare, to whose kindness I am indebted for the accompanying section, fig. 36. The tract of downs ranging there along the coast is capped by chalk (h), which rests on sandstone, alternating with chert (i), beneath which is more than 100 feet of loose sand (k), with concretions at the bottom, and belonging like i to the green-sand formation; the whole of the above masses, h, i, k, reposing on retentive beds of clay (l), belonging to the lias, which shelves towards the sea. Numerous springs issuing from the loose sand (k), have gradually removed portions of it, and thus undermined the superstratum, so as to have caused subsidences at former times, and to have produced a line of undercliff between D and E. In 1839 an excessively wet season had saturated all the rocks with moisture, so as to increase the weight of the incumbent mass, from which the support had already been withdrawn by the action of springs. Thus the superstrata were precipitated into hollows prepared for them, and the adjacent masses of partially undermined rock, to which the movement was communicated, were made to slide down on a slippery basis of watery sand towards the sea. These causes gave rise to a convulsion, which began on the morning of the 24th of December, with a crashing noise; and, on the evening of the same day, fissures were seen opening in the ground, and the walls of tenements rending and sinking, until a deep chasm or ravine, B, was formed, extending nearly three-quarters of a mile in length, with a depth of from 100 to 150 feet, and a breadth exceeding 240 feet. At the bottom of this deep gulf lie fragments of the original surface thrown together in the wildest confusion. In consequence of lateral movements, the tract intervening between the new fissure and the sea, including the ancient undercliff, was fractured, and the whole line of sea-cliff carried bodily forwards for many yards. "A remarkable pyramidal crag, F, off Culverhole Point, which lately formed a distinguishing landmark, has sunk from a height of about seventy to twenty feet, and the main cliff, E, before more than fifty feet distant from this insulated crag, is now brought almost close to it. This motion of the sea-cliff has produced a farther effect, which may rank among the most striking phenomena of this catastrophe. The lateral pressure of the descending rocks has urged the neighboring strata, extending beneath the shingle of the shore, by their state of unnatural condensation, to burst upwards in a line parallel to the coast—thus an elevated ridge, G, more than a mile in length, and rising more than forty feet, covered by a confused assemblage of broken strata, and immense blocks of rock, invested with sea-weed and corallines, and scattered over with shells and star-fish, and other productions of the deep, forms an extended reef in front of the present range of cliffs."432

A full account of this remarkable landslip, with a plan, sections, and many fine illustrative drawings, was published by Messrs. Conybeare and Buckland,433 from one of which the annexed cut has been reduced, fig. 37.