REV. S. BARING-GOULD 47 



islet, called the Ray. This latter is a hill of gravel 

 rising from the heart of the Marshes, crowned 

 with ancient thorn trees, and possessing, what is 

 denied the mainland, an unfailing spring of purest 

 water. At ebb, the Ray can only be reached from 

 the old Roman causeway, called the Strood, over 

 which runs the road from Colchester to Mersea 

 Isle, connecting formerly the city of the Trino- 

 bantes with the station of the count of the Saxon 

 shore. But even at ebb, the Ray is not approach- 

 able by land unless the sun or east wind has 

 parched the ooze into brick ; and then the way is 

 long, tedious and tortuous, among bitter pools 

 and over shining creeks. It was perhaps because 

 this ridge of high ground was so inaccessible, so 

 well protected by nature, that the ancient in- 

 habitants had erected on it a rath^ or fortified 

 camp of wooden logs, which left its name to the 

 place long after the timber defences had rotted 

 away. 



A more desolate region can scarce be conceived, 

 and yet it is not without beauty. In summer, the 

 thrift mantles the marshes with shot satin, passing 

 through all gradations of tint from maiden's blush 

 to lily while. Thereafter a purple glow steals over 

 the waste, as the sea lavender bursts into flower, 

 and simultaneously every creek and pool is royally 

 fringed with sea aster. A little later the glass- 

 wort, that shot up green and transparent as 



