It is only during the last twenty years that Lyme has found itself as a popular resort.  It must have been a tragic business to the select few, that opening of the light railway from Axminster in 1903.  Before that time enthusiasts, among them Whistler and several other famous artists, braved the six miles of rough road from the nearest station to reach the picturesque old town on the Buddle, and possibly formed some sort of league to keep their “find” dark.  Happily the place is still unspoilt and the hand of Jerry has not descended.  The visitor who arrives by the South Western after a delightful trip, all too short, on the miniature Alpine line that burrows through hillsides and swerves across valleys, over the last by a highly spectacular viaduct, is agreeably surprised to find himself at a terminus while apparently still in the wilds.  If the little motor train went down to the seaside it could never pant back again.  But the eye is unoffended in the long walk down the steep road to the shore, and in these days when the canons of good taste seem to have some weight with property owners and builders it is probable that the growth of Lyme will be effected with circumspection.  As it is, the snug little town is almost unaltered, except for a slight and necessary clearance at the river mouth, from the days when Louisa Musgrove lived at Captain Harville’s house.  Every one who stays at Lyme must buy or borrow a copy of Persuasion.  It is wonderful how an old-fashioned tale such as this novel of Jane Austen will delight and interest the most blase of readers when he or she can identify the scenes depicted in its pages, and how the early Victorian atmosphere of the book will seem to descend on the quaint streets that have altered so little since it was written.

Lyme seems to have started life in the salt boiling line, and to distinguish it from Uplyme was called Netherlyme-supra-mare.  The first patrons of the industry were the monks of Sherborne Abbey.  This was in the days of Cynwulf of Wessex.  Five hundred years later it became “Regis,” a haven and chartered borough under Edward I, and from this far-off time dates the unique stone pier called the “Cobb,” restored many times since.  The town suffered much from French attacks and revenged itself by sending ships to harry the commerce of the then arch-enemy.  The Cobb had been allowed to fall into such a state of disrepair in the reign of Elizabeth that that irate lady refused to renew the borough charter until the townsfolk made good the damage.  This was done and Lyme soon redoubled its importance in the eyes of the Government, so much so that on the outbreak of the Civil War it was looked upon as an almost indispensable possession both by Royalists and Parliamentarians.  Its vigorous resistance to the King is one of the outstanding incidents of the war; Blake, afterwards Admiral, conducting the marine defence.  The beseiged were successful after two months of the most desperate fighting, and the women of Lyme proved Amazonian in the help they gave their menfolk.  In 1672 the Dutch gave the English fleet a trouncing within sight of the town.