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There be
devils out there... |
The Insight guide to the history,
folklore, geology and leisure
That the Devil went down
to Georgia is well documented. Less celebrated is the
fact that, first, he was hanging around the South Downs
wearing a hoodie, happy slapping yokels and generally
making a right nuisance of himself. At least, that's what
much of Downs' folklore would have us believe.
In fact, the whole National Park-to-be is rich in the
kind of legends gleefully related by wizened crones quite
unaware that they are participating in a gendered stereotype.
There's the Lyminster Dragon, for example, whose favourite
food is fair damsels - though whether anyone ever thought
to offer him something else (a nice spag bol perhaps)
is unclear. A six-foot sword in the armory of Arundel
Castle is supposedly that of Bevis, a giant who could
walk from Southampton to Cowes without ruining his hairdo
and who, rather selfishly, threw the sword from the castle's
battlements to indicate where he wanted to be buried.
A mound half a mile away is supposed to be the spot where
it landed and is known as Bevis's Grave - though, let's
be honest, if you were Bevis's faithful manservant and
he breezed in one day announcing that he was dying, that
his sword was somewhere within a half-mile radius of the
castle, and that you had to not only find it but dig a
bloody great hole wherever it had landed, then bury him,
you'd probably just humour him, wouldn't you? "Yeah,
Bevis, when you're dead, I'll definitely do that..."
Beloathed of Brighton schoolchildren (whose history curriculum,
I'm told, consists of Devil's Dyke and Hitler) the circumstances
of the creation of the big hole in the Downs at the end
of the No 77 bus route is one of the most enduring of
Sussex legends. So the story goes: The Devil, on holiday
from stirring up wars on the continent, got talking to
his mates in Wetherspoon's and decided that, as the people
of Sussex were such a bunch of god-bothering do-gooders,
he'd go and cut a channel through the downland so as to
let the sea in and drown them all. He got about halfway
when an old woman decided that enough was enough, went
up to the top of the hill and shone a candle through a
sieve, waking a cock which began to crow. The combined
effect of these special effects was enough to convince
Old Nick that it was morning and - momentarily mistaking
himself for a vampire - he legged it. No one has ever
been able to explain why he didn't just come back the
next night and finish the job, but he didn't, and the
people remained above sea level.
Perhaps it was because he was too busy at Chanctonbury
Ring. This Iron Age hill fort near Steyning is one of
Sussex's weirdest places. The air is colder on the inside
(like American shops); no birds sing there, either, and
it is allegedly impossible to count the trees - though
if you try it and succeed you will summon the ghosts of
Julius Caesar and his army, so best not. People see a
mysterious white-bearded man (who may be the ghost of
a druid) and hear the mysterious hooves of invisible horses
(which may be the ghost of a druid banging coconut shells
together). Most specifically, if you run backwards around
the ring seven times at midsummer you will raise up the
devil. He will then offer you a bowl of porridge and,
if you eat it, he will either grant you your dearest wish,
or he'll kill you and eat your soul. Admittedly, this
is quite an important detail, so, unless your dearest
wish is to sell your soul for porridge, it's probably
best to just wrap up warm, eat your pond pudding and watch
the fog blow in. It's a funny old world out there. Sleep
well, my little ones. simon clayton
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The
Brighton Downs: Our own piece of magic chalk |
Forget travelling to
exotic climes in search of nature: there's beautiful countryside
and wildlife aplenty right on our doorstep. Not to mention
some pretty scary walks. Dave Bangs is captivated
Fossils from the dinosaur age, Mediterranean butterflies,
stone-age monuments, tropical orchids and prehistoric grasslands...
This is not an extract from the brochure of some expensive
heritage attraction. It's an accurate list of the wonders
you can easily find on our Brighton Downs.
One hundred and fifty years ago, everyone coming to Brighton
would have known that it wasn't just the sea that Brighton
was famous for - it was the primeval Downland turf. They
all knew that the Prince Regent chose Brighton as much for
the horse-racing on the open Downs as for the sea-bathing.
Turf as much as surf brought HRH to Brighton.
Since then, the great prairie sheepwalks round Brighton
have been mightily mangled. You can no longer walk all the
way to Steyning or Lewes entirely on that soft Downland
turf, with nothing but skylarks above your head and the
"close-bit thyme that smells like dawn in Paradise".
But, for decades now, Brighton campaigners have been fighting
back against the destruction of our "blunt, bow-headed,
whale-backed Downs", and there have been some solid
successes. This means that you can still walk - don't drive!
-- up onto our local Downs and enjoy substantial surviving
fragments of that ancient heritage.
Our local Downland hills are the shattered fragments of
a huge dome of chalk that stretched all the way to the River
Thames. Only the broken rims of this dome have survived
60 million years of erosion as the South and North Downs,
facing each other across the 30-mile width of the Sussex
Weald. Their smooth, rounded shapes are owed to the final
polishing they received in the last 2 million years of glacial
freeze-and-thaw. And "no bosomed woods adorn"
their "bare slopes where chasing shadows skim".
The ancient peoples of the flint, bronze and iron cultures
heroically cleared them of their thin forests long aeons
ago.
Only a mile from the Palace Pier, Whitehawk Hill's Neolithic
camp still proudly overlooks the Bay of Sussex. It is far
older than Stonehenge and more ancient by 3,000 years than
the Bronze and Iron Age camps of Hollingbury, Thundersbarrow
(Southwick), the Devil's Dyke and Ditchling Beacon. Within
sound of the Festival fireworks, you can watch dancing Adonis
Blue butterflies on the hill's hot summer turf and hunt
for the silken traps of the purse-web spider - primitive
cousin to the bird-eating spiders of the rain forest.
Only seven miles east of the Palace Pier, you can take the
scariest walk under the wild cliffs of Newhaven - untamed
by coastal engineering and undercliff walks. Look for huge
metre-wide fossil ammonites. Newhaven's cliffs are a playground
and a treasure-trove far better than Brighton's tired formula
of shingle and concrete. Watch fulmar nesting and hear the
eerie cry of arctic kittiwake as they wheel around their
dizzy nest heights. Rummage for shark's teeth and fossil
shells from the time when these cliff tops were tropical
lagoons where tiny 'dawn horses' and extinct hippos sloshed.
Only four miles from Palace Pier, you can lose yourself
in the secret valleys beyond Woodingdean, where the Castle
Hill Nature Reserve lies. This is a time-warp landscape
of gorse and ancient pastures, with many members of the
orchid tribe and other lovely Downland herbs. It's almost
the only surviving British home of the huge wartbiter bush-cricket,
which hides there with its equally grand cousin the great
green bush-cricket.
Walk up from Shoreham across Mill Hill, yellow in May-time
with horseshoe vetch, foodplant of the adonis and Chalkhill
Blue butterflies. Walk onwards to the hidden grasslands
of Old Erringham Coombe and Anchor Bottom, newly opened
up to public access under the right to roam law. These magic
places are full of the spirit of the old Downs. Breathe
the coconut-vanilla of the blooming gorse in spring, and
look across to the beeches of Chanctonbury Ring, with its
pagan temple. Take a trip on Midsummer's Eve to Benfield,
Southwick, or Newtimber Hills. There, among the grass in
the hour after darkness, you may see the magic fairy lights
of glow worms matching the twinkling stars.
Students from the Falmer Universities can easily walk across
the Downs to high Balmer, with its Iron Age field system,
and on to Blackcap and Offham Downs, colourful with waxcap
fungi in October. Take time to see the richness of nature
on our bare doorstep Downs. It isn't endless mobility we
need. It's access to this loveliness all around us. You
will be richly rewarded for your looking.
There's plenty
of fun to be had on the Downs. So what are you waiting
for? asks Naomi Ziewe
The South Downs provide a platform for enough outdoor
activities to shake an extremely large stick at. Stretching
from the Seven Sisters in Eastbourne all the way to Winchester
in the west, walkers can't amble far without stumbling
across historical sites, triangulation points, and the
traditional English pubs and little old lady teashops
that embroider the landscape like the Bayeux Tapestry.
Despite being such popular stomping ground for nature
lovers and tourists alike - don't forget such pastimes
as paragliding and paint balling - yes, we kid you not.
So with longer summer days beckoning, step outside the
city for a breather and take in some of these activities
along with some fresh air.
 If
you had one magical power what would it be? If your answer
is not "the ability to fly", then you are not
thinking clearly. What could be more rewarding than surveying
staggering aerial views with the wind beneath your wings?
Hang-gliding holds a similar thrill for adrenalin junkies
to paragliding but differs in that you can reach greater
speeds. Both sports involve running off a steep hill,
and their peculiar mixture of adrenalin and peaceful detachment
makes them very popular and they are consequently well
catered for in the area in terms of schools. D-Aviation
is just one of several which offer tandem flights and
tuition (see www.d-aviation.co.uk).
Always a fun option. Look
out for the Brighton Kite Festival at Stanmer Park on
July 9-10 and enjoy a sky more colourful than the cheesiest
sunset. Meanwhile, Devil's Dyke is one of the windiest
spots. www.brightonkiteflyers.co.uk
But to really let rip,
what better way than a spot of paintballing? Demolition
Paintball are based at the foot of the South Downs in
West Sussex on a 50-acre site of woodland. To provide
a starting point for your activities the staff have devised
a range of themed games, with thrilling names such as:
Plane Crash, Stockade - Attack and Defend, The Bridge,
The Barricade Field, Rocket Launcher and Flag to Flag
Woodland. All games are fully supervised, so you don't
have to worry about coming home with shrapnel wounds -
just make sure you don't run into a tree! Demolition Paintballing
are on 01273 418263.
Alternatively swap two
legs for two wheels and get the mountain bike out. City
cyclists, be prepared: the only thing you'll have to dodge
are ambulaters and the odd sheep. And, failing that, why
not try four legs yourself? Many riding schools in the
area offer pony trekking for beginners as well as for
more advanced riders - and anyone who has trod the chalk
paths will be well aware that the South Downs is a much
loved area for horse riding. www.3greys.co.uk is just
one of the schools that offer escorted hacks for novice
and experienced riders.
One perfect spot for paragliding
is Devil's Dyke. Legends aside, Devil's Dyke is famed
for its heart-thumping views over Sussex. The Dyke extends
along the ridge of the South Downs for 7km and, as the
Devil goes, is a hop, skip and a jump from Brighton. Sussex
has been populated since Neolithic times, so naturally
there is a story attached to every hollow, nook and bough.
The story of Devil's Dyke's formation goes back to the
Middle Ages when it was said the Devil attempted to halt
Sussex's church-building, so he dug a channel through
the South Downs to the sea to drown the population of
the Weald. Luckily a local woman saw what he was up to,
prodded the pet cockerel, and held her candle aloft. The
cockerel's crow and the candlelight convinced the devil
the sun was rising so he fled, leaping over the mounds
of displaced earth, the job incomplete.
To explore further than
just the Dyke, indeed the whole caboodle, then grab a
rucksack, a hardy travelling companion and possibly an
improvised walking stick,and become Frodo and Sam for
the duration of the 161km-long South Downs Way. Follow
the ridges, chalk escarpments and drove ways carved by
the footsteps of ancient man, and feel intrepid without
being too far from civilisation. Stop off at pubs and
inns en-route to replenish your energies with local ales
and wholesome country fayre. The route is straightforward,
but just see if you can't resist uttering, "Well
Mr Frodo Sir, we're lost and no mistake." Check out
www.nationaltrails.gov.uk
for more information. There is a way to cross the South
Downs to suit every speed or timescale. Take a humble
evening stroll, or ramble with one of the organised walking
tours that cater for all age groups and tastes in scenery
(www.sussex-pathfinders.co.uk).
The super-fit can opt for extreme walking, which is normal
walking only much faster and up hills.
All this activity might
not be for everyone, so let's not forget the simple enjoyment
of the English picnic. After all, there's still that long
walk back from the perfect picnic spot to the car! If
you're up for some mild exercise that doesn't mean walking
too far, Ditchling Beacon can't be beaten, nor can Seven
Sisters. Pass the pickled onions!
copyright The Insight
2005
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