Showing 1-10 of 533 posts. Most recent first | Next 10
A group of students, working through the night on the Sussex Downs, north of Brighton, have cut a 200ft reclining figure of a woman in the chalk face of Wolstonbury Hill, which overlooks the main London to Brighton road. The students used shovels, picks and garden tools to cut the figure in the turf.
One of them said today :"The famous Long Man of Wilmington, near Eastbourne, was getting lonely so we thought it time to provide him with a mate."
The students hold their annual rag day at Brighton on Saturday. Devon Echo, 14th October 1959.
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Posted by Rhiannon 20th June 2023ce |
In the same district, near to what must be the most delightfully situated racecourse in the land is the Trundle Hill, Goodwood, which takes its name from an ancient British earthwork on the summit, where is buried Aaron's golden calf, upon which His Satanic Majesty keeps a paternal eye. To quote Clare Jerrold:
"People know very well where it is - I could show you the place any day."
"Why don't you dig it up then?"
"Oh, that is not allowed; He would not let me."
"Well, has any one ever tried?"
"Oh, yes: but it is never there when you look; He moves it away." Hastings and St Leonard's Observer, 1st August 1936.
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Posted by Rhiannon 20th June 2023ce |
Naturally the Ring is haunted. Even on bright summer days there is an uncanny sense of some unseen presence, which seems to follow you about. If you enter the dark wood alone you are conscious of Something behind you. When you stop, It stops; when you go on, It follows. However swiftly you turn round to look behind, you are not quite quick enough to catch sight of It, whatever It is. If you stand stock-still and listen, even on the most tranquil day when no breath of air stirs the leaves, you can hear a whispering somewhere above you. No birds live in this sombre wood but a single pair of yaffles, and occasionally the silence is broken by a loud, mocking laugh. Only once have we been so bold as to enter the Ring on a dark night. My wife and I went there alone. We never shall repeat the visit. Some things are best forgotten if they can be, and certainly not set down in a book. From 'Go To The Country' by Philip Gosse (1935). He loves Chanctonbury though and could see it from his house. "The great hill was once a guiding beacon for the benighted wandered, when the Weald was one vast marshy forest of oak, and it is still a friend to welcome home the returned traveller - a friend which never fails and never changes in a changing world."
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Posted by Rhiannon 11th June 2023ce |
As Carl says, there's not a great deal to see here as the interior of the fort has been used for farming for centuries and any trace of earthworks at the Northern end near the pub have all but disappeared. No other earthworks were necessary as when this fort first came into being it would have been surrounded on three sides by either the sea or the flood plains of the River Arun. Indeed the Arun and one of it's tributaries still surround it. Later on it was a Saxon Burh and now just adjoined to a quaint little Sussex village, though worthy of being bombed by the Luftwaffe in WW2 apparently.
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Posted by A R Cane 11th October 2018ce |
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Posted by juamei
25th March 2018ce
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Posted by juamei
22nd March 2018ce |
Showing 1-10 of 533 posts. Most recent first | Next 10
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