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At the dawn of the second millennium, life in Suffolk was difficult.

England, under one rule since Alfred's son, Edward, had unified the title in 921, was ruled by Aethelraed the Unready who had become monarch aged 10 in 979. But his perceived non-preparedness had persuaded a new generation of Vikings that Britain was again for the taking and since the 980s they had been trying to do just that. East Anglia was in the front line.

It was a shame because the region had recovered well from Norse trauma in the previous century when churches and monasteries were burnt by the likes of Ivar the Boneless and his brother, Halfdene whose troops also murdered the East Anglian King (subsequently Saint) Edmund in slow motion. When Alfred turned the military tide, the Danes had settled for the eastern half of the country (the Danelaw) and turned to farming.

And they had settled well, helped by their then leader, Guthrum's, earlier policy of granting land rather than booty to his followers and, in his treaty with Alfred, agreeing to be baptised. Forty years on, when Edward retook the Danelaw, the settled Danes of East Anglia didn't resist. Thereafter, crude local government had evolved with each region governed by a king's representative, the earldorman, who collected taxes and raised troops. The system was working passably by the early 980s when Earldorman Bryhtnoth was Aethelraed's man in East Anglia.

But then Norse raids resumed and in 991, after a few probing sorties, the Norwegians, now the main perpetrators, came with 93 ships. They pillaged the Kent coast, moved north to burn Ipswich and finally sailed up the Blackwater to land at Northey Island next to what is now Maldon in Essex. There, temporarily protected by mudflats and water, they were confronted by Bryhtnoth and his troops across a tidal causeway.

This causeway was defendable as demonstrated by one Viking who tried to cross and met a sticky end. But Olaf asked for safe passage for a fair fight and the Earldorman, clearly too sporting a fellow, granted it. He and his troops were cut to pieces. Thereafter, Aethelraed paid large amounts of protection money, often to no great effect.

This was particularly tough for a Suffolk populace with a high proportion of 'freemen' - landowners rather than serfs - who had plenty to lose. Most of the 500 or so villages were already established with names recognisable today. This was also probably the most densely populated part of the country, although at only three or four per cent of what it is now (the Suffolk figure was 20,491 at Domesday, 1086), manpower was too thinly spread to defend piecemeal against Olaf's roaming army or deny them provisions. Large numbers were killed or enslaved. In 1000AD, Suffolk's lands were so devastated, now by the troops of the Danish King Sweyn Forkbeard, that even invaders had trouble finding food.

Amongst this carnage, the church was struggling. It had usurped paganism to become the cement of society but with the bishopric of Dunwich finished by the previous invasion, the East Anglian diocese had reconstituted only in 956.

Yet there was resilience. Danish settlement had been less intense in Suffolk than elswewhere and, more significantly, St Edmunds' remains had been interred at Beodricsworth, later to become Bury St Edmunds, making it England's premier shrine. The remains had actually been shipped to London for safety when Sweyn Forkbeard was on the rampage but his son, Cnut, who eventually annexed England to the Danish crown, was a more reasonable chap and, wanting to live with his new subjects, not only encouraged the return of the remains but also heaped money upon the shrine.

Thereafter, church fortunes revived and the most substantial relics now of those days in Suffolk are the Saxon churches. Domesday counted 400 or more, roughly one for every fifty people, and most would have been pre-Norman. Thirty-odd survive with some Saxon fabric and almost all with round towers because East Anglia has no building stone to make high quoins.
And what are the Saxon features? Well, first refer to the most in-depth study, Round Towers of South East England by WJ Goode*.

But in East Anglia, triangular headed belfry window openings, formed in flints are certainly Saxon. Herringfleet St Margaret (OS sheet 134 TM 477 978) and Risby St Giles (155 TL 802 664) have some.

For nave quoins, the Saxons re-used Roman bricks or tiles where available as at Aldham St Mary (155 TM041 445) but otherwise managed with large flints or glacial erratics as at the south-west corner of Ilketshall St Margaret (156 TM350 852).

'Long-and-short' work in erratics is Saxon - for example the north-west quoin at Syleham St Margaret (156 TM205 789) - whereas the long and short work in dressed stone at Little Bradley (154 TL682 521) is a later repair. Dressed stone was inserted into many Saxon windows and doorways when that material became available.

Saxon naves were also narrow, few being more than 20' wide; Ashby St Mary (134, TM 489 991) is an example.

One oddity is Ramsholt All Saints (169 TM307421) built in a mix of flint and septaria, a stone of compressed clay and found along the banks of the Deben and Orwell. That remote church also takes some beating for scenic grandeur with sweeping views over the Deben valley.

But beyond the building detail, the charm of these churches is to see them in their entirety and in the context of the surrounding landscape. For there is a slight other-worldliness about them, sitting as some do in remote spots away from their villages, having survived - and even seen - the 'Fury of the Northmen' a thousand years ago. Today, life isn't quite so difficult and even as they watch Suffolk struggle with the 'Fury of the Property Developers and Second Home Owners', these Saxon relics are looking good for another thousand.

* available from Edgar Spelman, Booksales and Publicity Department, Round Tower Churches Society, 105 Norwich Road, New Costessey, Norwich NR5 0LF, price £18.40 inc p&p. A booklet, East Anglian Round Tower Churches is also available, price £1.20 inc p&p.