Once a year Yarnbury becomes reanimate, on the day of the Horse and Sheep Fair, October 4th, held in this lonely trysting place by immemorial tradtion. Here.. the flocks..stand close packed in pens; bunches of young ponies are tied up in one corner.. and near by are the sober cart-horses, their plaited manes and tails aprick with ornaments of straw. The vendor of sheep bells spreads his metal wares upon the ground.. the purchase of sheep bells is a serious matter, good ones costing as much as five shillings..In the good old days, up to within the memory of people still living, the fair was followed by horse races next day, and sports of all kinds. But now the pleasure part of the meeting has been abandoned; the folk disperse quietly soon after noon, when business is done, leaving Yarnbury to the silent occupation of its prehistoric ghosts for another year.
From Ella Noyes’s ‘Salisbury Plain’ (1913) (taken from a quote in Katy Jordan’s 2000 ‘Haunted Wiltshire’).
Interestingly(?) the parish boundary crosses the centre of the fort (though I’m afraid bridleways only skirt the edges).