You have met before.
I’ve posted about him in the past in connection with the musical suite On Windover Hill by Nathan James, but here he gets to star in his own blog post.
There is a fine day’s walk to be had from Polegate, just north of Eastbourne, with a handy railway station, along to Folkington, then up onto the Downs and along past the Long Man and down to Alfriston. From Alfriston there is a very pleasant walk along the Cuckmere river to Litlington where one turns north and, after stopping briefly – say for about an hour – at Church Farm where the Long Man brewery is located, head east back up onto the Downs and another four or five miles back to Polegate, passing through Lullington Heath nature reserve (which always seems to feel a little wilder than most other parts of the Downs, or perhaps that’s just the weather I’ve encountered when I’ve passed that way) to Jevington, then along a mixture of roads and footpaths to finish. It’s a full day’s walk, but well worth the effort.
He’s called the Long Man of Wilmington, or the Wilmington Giant, although he sits on the side of Windover Hill.
The Long Man is a figure cut into the chalk of the South Downs, similar in that respect to the more famous Uffington White Horse and the Cerne Abbas Giant. Like those two figures it is not known when exactly this one was cut, but unlike them it is fairly certain it was comparatively recent. The first known mention of the Long Man was in an illustration drawn in 1710 when he also boasted a face and what looks as though it might be a helmet on the top of his head. It will be noticed that the position of the feet has changed through the years, too, although not dramatically.
I say he is cut into the chalk, although these days the outline is composed of bricks painted white sitting in the hollows of his outline.
The Long Man stands on the scarp slope of the chalk directly facing the village of Wilmington. On the edge of the village nearest him, there are the remains of a fourteenth century priory. It seems difficult to attach much significance to that, although it has been suggested he might have first been created by the monks to while away some idle time. I have to say, I didn’t think monks had that much spare time, though.
There is also a school of thought that thinks the Long Man is actually a Long Woman, suggesting the proportions of the body back this up. Personally, I don’t see this, either.
I’m very curious about the origin of the name Windover Hill itself. It is marked on the 1874 six inch Ordnance Survey map as Winddoor Hill, and in 1779 referred to as Windore Hill. Before this, I believe it was called Wyndore Hill, possibly from the Anglo-Saxon Wind Ora – windy bank. Another possibility involves an old name for the kestrel, which is Windhover, and there are certainly kestrels along the South Downs.
There are a number of theories about the two poles held in the figure’s hands. They would appear to be staves or poles of some sort, and it seems obvious that they were of some significance when the figure was cut. A 1776 drawing shows him with a scythe and rake, although this seems highly unlikely given that the 1710 drawing does not show this.
However, a resistivity survey done in the 1960’s does show disturbance around the tops of the staves, which might indicate either that the staves were originally longer than they are now or that there could even be some truth in the scythe and rake picture. It is always possible these had been added post 1710, I suppose. In 1925 Alfred Watkins published The Old Straight Track, in which he first proposed his theory of ley lines. Although maybe I’ll go into more detail about these another time, the essence of the theory is that many natural features of Britain are connected by invisible lines of power, and that ancient features such as standing stones or burial mounds, as well as more recent features such as churches and castles, were built on these invisible lines as a way of tapping into this power. Watkins talks a lot about how these lines would be surveyed by using two long poles as markers and mentions the Long Man in passing.
I think the jury is definitely out on that one.
Whatever the origins of the figure, though, it is certainly impressive both close up and viewed from a distance.
And another good reason to visit the area? The Long Man brewery at Church farm in nearby Litlington selling fine – nay, very fine – Sussex ales. You might have guessed I’d mention them.
Hi Mick, I’ve seen pictures of this ‘Long Man’ before and thought them interesting. I know a little bit about the ley lines you mentioned.
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I might do a post on ley lines at some point, Robbie. I do have a couple of ideas of my own about them.
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I hope you do 🌹
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I’m fascinated by what is built around ley lines (like Aztec temples and what not), Mick.
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Yes, it’s an interesting subject, especially as people don’t exactly agree about it.
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The Long Man of Wilmington is certainly new to me! Thanks for sharing, Mick.
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He’s not particularly well-known outside this part of the UK, Damyanti. I suspect that most people in this country won’t have heard of him, either.
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Mick, you do turn up some interesting things in your travels, and I loved this fascinating look at the Kent Down’s chalk figures. I googled chalk figures in the UK, and it told me there were around fifty of these figures here, most of which are in your area. It’s good to know about the history behind this particular one, The Long Man of Wilmington. What are the key lines that you mentioned? I’d be interested to read more about this topic in another blog if you decide to write one.
I often wondered why the chalk wasn’t eroded or washed away as the rainwater runs down the hills, but I also read that occasionally, white-painted bricks are laid on top of the original lines of the figures, I guess, thereby making it permanent. I’m looking forward to reading more about this.
I hope, as always, that you and your family are all well. X
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Ah, ley lines, Ellie. As I said, I might post a bit more about them at some point, but essentially they are supposed to be invisible lines of power criss-crossing the land which the ancients were somehow able to detect, but which we seem to have lost the means of so doing. Watkins claimed that ancient sites were almost invariably positioned on these lines.
The reason the chalk wasn’t washed away from these figures, though, is that the chalk is several hundred feet thick beneath the hillsides and a bit tougher than you might think. The reason painted bricks are often used now is simply ease of maintenance – it’s easier to re-paint them occasionally than to keep up with the gardening required to stop the grass growing over the cuttings.
And we’re all well, thanks, and hope you and yours are too.
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Nazca lines, British style. Good for what ales you.
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Hmm, you’ve covered all bases with that one, Dave!
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I remember you posting about this before. Once you’ve seen the Long Man, it’s hard to forget him. Looking at the image this time, the meaning of those vertical lines on either side seemed obvious; they’re hiking poles! Apparently a love of long, rambling hikes goes back a long way.
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Maybe that’s the answer! Eighteenth century power-walking! Whatever the reason, though, they were obviously important to whoever did the carving. Most intriguing.
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Pretty interesting. This is something new I have read on your blog!
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Ah, I like to come up with something different, now and again.
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