Church Tower, Swaffham. it, except for a few whinchats amid the furze and sad-voiced plovers on the heaths. But the dreariness of the road is for VI CASTLE ACRE 179 gotten when Castle Acre comes in sight, clinging to the side of a steepish slope leading down to the little river Nar. The obvious antiquity of the village would in itself distinguish it from most of the Norfolk hamlets, ancient as many of them are; but when you approach near to it, and see that the greater part of it stands within a vast Roman camp; that the ruins of what must have been one of the largest castles in East Anglia overlook it from the summit and midst of huge earthworks; that a massive Norman gateway, which once gave access to the castle, spans the village street; and that down in the valley of the Nar, only a few hundred yards from the castle, are the ruins of a priory which ranked second to Walsingham only among the many monastic houses of Norfolk, you recognise that you have reached one of the Meccas of your pilgrimage. For here are relics of almost every race which has inhabited Eastern England since the days of the troglodytic Eskurian. The castle ruins consist of little more than massive fragments which time has worn into a strange shapelessness, without architectural interest; yet their position, extent, and solidity make them wonderfully impressive. Raised on a great artificial mound and flanked by other ancient earthworks, sharpbacked ridges topped by massive walls, and yawning fossæ littered with fallen masonry, the remains of its circular keep remind one of an elevated Stonehenge. Old as it is, its surroundings are far older. The vast enclosure in which it stands, and which embraces the greater part of the village, is a Roman camp; the mound itself and its flanking earthworks date from long before the days of either Norman or Roman builders. The "Peddar's Way," a Roman road which runs from Thetford through Swaffham and Castle Acre to the coast at Brancaster (where was the stronghold of the Count of the Saxon Shore), no doubt follows the course of some Icenic trackway. The ancient British settlements to which it led were occupied and extended by the Romans, whose work, in turn, provided foundations and building stones for the castles of the Norman 180 CASTLE ACRE CHAP. barons; so it is not surprising that flint weapons of the Stone Age and coins of Vespasian and Constantine have been unearthed in the midst of the Norman ramparts. In granting to William de Warrenne the manor of Castle Acre, the Conqueror bestowed upon him one of the most ancient settlements in East Anglia; and the Earl of Leicester, who is now lord of the manor, possesses a property of almost unique antiquarian interest. Its present holder inherits it through his ancestor, Sir Edward Coke, who, according to his biographer, Lord Campbell, obtained possession of it in a rather curious way. He was a very wealthy man, who purchased so much land, especially in Norfolk, that the Crown is said to have made representations to him that he was creating an injurious monopoly. So he agreed to rest content if leave were granted him to purchase one more "acre." This the Crown had no objection to, and Sir Edward bought the great Castle Acre estate, which in itself was as large as all the rest of his lands together. It is strange that a place of such great antiquarian importance should possess so little historical interest, yet I cannot find that there is one stirring event connected with the history of either Castle Acre castle or priory. Both owe their foundation to VI CASTLE ACRE 181 the Earl of Warrenne; but from the time when they were built until their human occupants deserted them nothing seems to have occurred in connection with them that was worth recording. The stress of internecine war seems to have left them unstirred, the invader to have passed them by ; they went their own way to ruin and desolation. Maybe the barrenness of the land around them had something to do with this; for though in the days of Toche or Toka, the thegn who owned Castle Acre at the time of the Conquest, the district is said to have been fertile and well wooded, its present aspect suggests that many centuries have elapsed since it could bear out the old chronicler's assertion. True it is cultivated, after a fashion; but the woods are gone, and there is little richness in the pastures of the Vale of the Nar. The village itself looks poverty-stricken, the soil unfruitful, or, like that of the Icenic mounds, productive only of wild roses, blackthorns, and brambles. Thistles and nettles, with here and there a tall downy-leaved mullein, are a poor crop to show for centuries of cultivation. Or, maybe, the land is exhausted by the demands made upon it by many generations of settlers. Under the frown of the grim castle walls, tenanted only by bats and sand lizards, trees and grass seemed to have withered; though it is early summer they might, to all appearance, have been subjected to midsummer heat and drought. True, there is a streak of fresh green where the river winds through the water-meadows; but it only emphasises the sterility of the higher lands. These seem parched and age-worn, and as the sun sinks behind the grey old priory they grow bleak and sombre, like the surface of a dying planet. The farm-hands, returning from their labour on the land, move shadow-like along the faintly-traced field paths, and emerge silently on to the dusty highway, like wild creatures of the woods and heathlands straying for a while beyond their accustomed bounds. An oppressive silence reigns everywhere; even from the village street comes scarcely a sound which betokens human life there. 182 A QUAINT VILLAGE CHAP. Descending from the castle mound I enter the village and climb the steep street which squeezes itself under the old stone gateway. On either side the houses testify to the truth of the statement that they are built of stones and masonry from the castle and priory ruins. At one time it was feared that both these grand old works of the Norman earl would be demolished -carted away piecemeal; but the combined efforts of the Earl of Leicester and the Norfolk archæologists have put a stop to rustic vandalism. Castle Acre Priory. If, at the same time, the archaeologists had taken charge of the whole village, it would not have been surprising; for grim gargoyles and curiously carved stonework are firmly built into, yet strangely out of place in, the walls of many of the houses; while ancient British, Roman, and Norman work is almost as much in evidence as that of the modern builder. As I pass near the church, on my way to the priory, I see crumbling masonry-portions, no doubt, of ancient |