Standing on the chalk cliffs above Cuckmere Haven the views along the dramatic Seven Sisters coast, and over the bay where the River Cuckmere meets the English Channel, are surely some of the finest in southern England. The river is small and flows for only 45km from its origin in the High Weald, its meandering route traveling through a landscape filled with ancient archeological sites and historic villages.
It’s a fascinating area with many layers of history, including evidence of 500,000 year old human ancestors hunting in this region. Britain was attached to the European mainland back then. There are archaeological remains of Bronze and Iron Age villages, hillforts and burial mounds scattered across this area. Later the Romans, Saxons and Normans all left an indelible mark on the landscape and genealogy of the region.
When the Roman conquest of Britain began in 43 AD, they found a thriving society in this part of East Sussex. You wouldn’t believe it today, but the River Cuckmere was navigable when the Romans arrived and became a busy trade route. All that came to an end in the late 13th century, when violent storms reshaped the coast and blocked the harbour. The whole area became a mosquito-infested malarial tidal marsh.
Malaria wasn’t the only problem. The river regularly flooded. Embankments were built in the 16th century to prevent flooding and the salt marsh was drained for agriculture. It hasn’t solved the problem and as water levels rise with climate change it will become much worse. The National Trust, which owns the land, plans to return it to a floodplain and salt marsh. This is little comfort for people living in flood prone Alfriston.
I took a footpath above the valley towards Alfriston, passing the Seven Sisters Country Park visitor centre at the former village of Exceat. Exceat was once a large and thriving community. Then in 1348 plague arrived in England on ships from Europe. The Black Death as it became known spread quickly, decimating thousands of villages and towns. Exceat was abandoned, only a stone marker remains today.
The South Downs Way led me from Exceat to the tiny village of West Dean. The village was bathed in sunlight as I strolled through the churchyard of the 12th century All Saints Church, before heading into Friston Forest. A large beech wood that was planted in the 1930s, Friston is crisscrossed with walking trails. Emerging out of the trees into rolling farmland I was soon walking into the village of Litlington.
Another small village, Litlington can trace its origins to a 5th century Saxon settlement and has a clutch of attractive houses and a small church with the traditional flint stone walls of this area. More importantly, Litlington is home to the Long Man Brewery, which makes fine beers in honour to the area’s most famous site, a mysterious 72-metre tall chalk man holding two staffs cut into a hillside.
The Long Man of Wilmington was my destination and I still had some distance to cover to get there. In Litlington though I was waylaid by The Plough & Harrow pub. I ordered a pint of Long Man Best Bitter and found a spot by the piano in the busy bar to relax before the final stage of my hike. I rejoined the South Downs Way alongside the River Cuckmere for the short walk to the historic village of Alfriston.
Alfriston is regarded as one of the South Downs’ prettiest villages – at least when its not under water from flooding. The village contains the Clergy House, the first property ever bought by the National Trust to be preserved for the nation. The sun was dropping and while I had wanted to visit I decided to continue onwards to the Long Man of Wilmington. I was soon walking up a chalk track towards Windover Hill.
In the frozen shadow of the hill on a steep slope the Long Man appeared. It was several degrees colder and the ground frozen on this side of the hill. I found myself alone with this enigmatic character, in the cold and silence it was an almost mystical encounter. Although that may have been the beer. Little is known about the Long Man. The earliest reference is from 1710, but it’s believed the figure could date to the 16th century.
The fact it isn’t an ancient monument hasn’t stopped neo-Druids from pretending it is a Druid site. The Council of British Druid Orders (there is such a thing) claim it as ‘sacred’. I carried on towards Polegate and the train, stopping briefly in the hamlet of Folkington. The attractive Church of St Peter and Vincula turns out to be where Elizabeth David, the famous British cook, is buried. Feeling hungry myself, I hurried on to Polegate.
