"WHA

UNDISCOVERED CORNER.

HAT?" the reader will exclaim, "an undiscovered corner of Essex in these days, when so much is being written about the County? Can it be possible that any part is left to describe ?"

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Yes," we reply, "there still remain nooks and corners as yet almost unknown, and among them, not the least interesting, a quarter unnoticed either by Mr. Barrett in his fascinating volume, Essex Highways and Byways, or in that charming work, Romantic Essex, by Mr. Beckett. It is not even mentioned in the recent little Guide Book of the "Way About Series." Surely, then, it has some right to be termed an undiscovered country.

The region lies not far from Tilbury Fort, and is more correctly described as two corners. Both consist of separate promontories, rising out of the extensive marshes bordering the Thames, and each is cut off from the main road by the London, Tilbury, and Southend Railway, whose gates across the line appear to impel the traveller strictly to adhere to the beaten track.

On arriving from London, either by road or rail, the less elevated promontory of the two is first approached. It is a long, low, narrow strip of land, rising at Low Street Station, and, cutting at right angles across the marshes, extends for a mile in a southerly direction towards its extreme point at East Tilbury, where it abuts upon the River itself.

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The other and larger portion, two or three miles further east, rises to a greater height from Mucking and Stanford-le-Hope, and spreads south-east to Corringham and Fobbing, where it ends in an abrupt slope, in front of which lies a great level plain, intersected by various tidal channels that find their outlet finally into the River at Hole Haven.

Both the promontories possess this peculiarity, that they formed part of the old coast-line of the Thames estuary ages ago -that is before the long sea-walls were built, and at a time when, during high water, the flow of the tides rolled up to their feet, and submerged for many miles inland what now forms the rich grazing grounds of the lower Thames levels.

This old coast-line is very clearly defined eastwards of Barking; may even now be followed either by the high road which runs along its verge, or seen at a glance from the windows of the train as it speeds across the reclaimed marshes that stretch nearly the whole way from London to Southend.

Barking and Rainham, if they existed in those days, must have consisted of little estuarine fishing settlements, with channels leading across the mud flats to the main stream. Purfleet, on its chalky headland, stood out boldly in the river, and deflected the course of its current in a south-easterly direction. Thence the coast receded, and jutted out again by West Thurrock. and Grays, places which were once almost insulated by a big lagoon-like arm of the Thames. Onwards the coast continues by an elevated ridge to Chadwell and West Tilbury, where it rises into a prominent bluff, and from here gradually sinks to the low point already mentioned at East Tilbury. Between this and the larger promontory noticed above there occurs another big interval of marsh, but across Mucking Creek the old coast reasserts itself once more in a line of wooded heights, which extends for two miles to Fobbing.

In those olden days this place overlooked a vast expanse of waste, sodden saltings, divided and penetrated by innumerable muddy ditches and creeks, which, as they filled twice a day with salt water from the sea, must have appeared a perfect network of intricate channels.* From Fobbing the coast retires

*With all due difference we cannot agree with Mr. Glenny, where he says (Essex Review No. 39 p. 149), that but for the riverwalls "the river would be choked with allurium from the nedss' (sic) and speedily become as it was originally, navigable only to a limited extent." This flolt so in cases where at present large areas of mud and saltings are covered at high water,

again northwards, losing its cliff-like character, and after Vange and Pitsea, merges into the relatively high country which rises behind Benfleet and Leigh to Southend, whence it falls away to the flat foreshore of Shoeburyness, fronting the German Ocean.

So much for the general lie of the ground, marked here and there by a church steeple, often erected on some prominent position, useful for ships to steer by; and with many an old hamlet hidden among the folds of the diminutive hills, some of which it is our present intention to explore We hear much nowadays of Societies for Preserving Ancient Monuments, etc., but what is equally wanted, particularly in Essex, is a Society for Preserving its Ancient Villages. The curse as well as the glory of the County lies in the fact of its being situated so near to London, but among many privileges which this entails, it carries one enormous disadvantage.

The little country towns that fringe the outskirts of the great Metropolis must gradually one by one be engulphed and swallowed up in the vortex of brick and mortar that, spreading outwards from the city, flows for ever forward with iresistible force.

If, according to the excellent motto adopted by the Essex Review," He who recalls the vanished enjoys a bliss like creating." surely that also which perpetuates what is passing away is deserving of some merit.

Would it not, therefore, be possible to establish a County Photographic Society, one of whose aims it should be to preserve by its means the present aspect of picturesque Essex villages, especially those which, owing to their position, are in danger before long of wholly disappearing in the levelling process of suburban absorption.

Within the last few years the face of Essex on the borders has been entirely changed and hopelessly disfigured.

as in Hamford Waters, the River Stour in Essex, or the Alde in Suffolk. On the contrary, the east coast estuaries are kept clear and deep solely by reason of the ebb and flow of the tides, which scour out the beds of their channels; and the greater the volume of water that findes its way up from the sea and back again, the greater power the tide will have to effect this very necessary operation. It is for this reason, we believe, that where embankments on the course of a tidal estuary have very greatly increased, the scour becomes less, and the river may then become choked. When the tides extended up the Thames to Hampton Court and beyond, without the hindrance of weirs, etc., we never heard about the silting up of the mouth of the River as we do now, and if another lock or weir is built at Putney or Hammersmith as is proposed, the silting up of the Channel will become worse and worse. Abolish the seawalls behind the Isles of Sheppey or Thanet, and the scour of the consequent tides there would soon create a deep water way, and recusitate the ancient channels found so useful by the Romans, but which they helped to destroy by their persistent innings, enbankments, and enclosures.

Barking, for instance, not so long ago, was a sleepy oldfashioned market town, partly agricultural, partly maritime. Its large fishing population and fleet of boats have now absolutely vanished, and barges and bargees-a poor substitute -have taken their place. Only its Church, Abbey Gate, and Quay -the latter much transformed-remain to give one some inkling of its ancient appearance; all the rest is swamped in the usual nondescript character of a London suburb. Close by, however,

rise amongst the dank marshes the gloomy, weird, mysterious towers of a great Tudor mansion, Eastbury House, all the more impressive from its lone and forbidding surroundings. The bare stretches of the flats extend on one side, the long straight rows of workmen's dwellings creep towards it on the other. Surely the people of Essex will never leave this grand old pile and its site to the scant mercy of the speculative builder! But unless they make some strenuous effort to prevent it, its eventual destruction is inevitably sealed beyond hope. Be that as it may,

even if the worse comes to the worst, a photographic record would be of priceless value.

Beyond Barking, as we progress eastwards, we note with pleasure that Rainham, in spite of an increasing population, still bears an air of charming village life. Purfleet until within the last few months, owing greatly to its Government powder magazine and private ownership, maintained a quiet rustic aspect. To the summit of its chalk-cliff climb, beautiful wild gardens

from among the trees of which peeps out the little wooden lighthouse, now disused.

But, even as we write, tidings reach us that a monster wharf is being constructed in front of what used to be a pretty piece of natural foreshore, and the gardens are threatened with ruin through the action of a revived Lime Company. Such woeful news is more than usually exasperating, for Purfleet was one of the few remaining bits of Essex Thames-side scenery which seemed to have a fair chance of surviving.

At Grays, several miles further on, we once more encounter the