As matters stand, the archaeologist is in the position of a diver, groping amid the timbers of a sunken ship for lost treasure, of whose presence he is certain, be his toll never so scanty. Or again, the archaeologist is like a scholar, closely poring over some blurred and defaced palimpsest, if haply he may decipher even a few of the original characters. “The drums and tramplings of three conquests,” the fires of marauders, the mistaken zeal of church restorers, the husbandman’s plough, the mason’s hammer, and the sexton’s spade, to say nothing of the gnawing tooth of Time, have so altered, if not obliterated, the records, that he must be content to read but a little, here and there, of the full story. CHAPTER III THE SECULAR USES OF THE CHURCH FABRIC Having established the proposition that ancient churches were oftentimes erected near older pagan memorials, we are prepared to search for supplementary motives for the determination of sites. A very superficial survey makes it clear that no single explanation will apply to all cases. A few of the churches built within old entrenchments may, perhaps, as before noted (p. 17 _supra_), have been so placed in order to obtain additional protection. Respect for tradition, or defiance of superstition, was, however, in the majority of such cases, the uppermost consideration: the ground was not primarily chosen because of its secure position. But besides the churches which accompany earthworks and megaliths, we possess a large number of churches which stand like sentinels on isolated hills, and these require separate study. Here again, no single theory will serve to account for the choice of site. The facts are familiar to those who have travelled through the more elevated parts of the country. But it is not alone on rugged hills that we find the Christian outposts; even on the gentle downlands the lonely church may be seen dominating the landscape. In the South-East of England, the hill parishes often have their churches mounted on the highest ground. Among the Surrey churches, that of Caterham stands 600 feet above sea-level; Chaldon and Coulsdon, 500 feet; Merstham, 400 feet[268]. Taking Sussex, we find Pyecombe church at an elevation of 400 feet; Falmer and Plumpton, 250 feet; and Street (Streat), 200 feet. Brook church, in the Isle of Wight, is built on a conspicuous natural hillock. Kent supplies us with excellent examples at Down, Cudham, and several other villages. These instances are sufficient--the list could be extensively enlarged, if necessary. [Illustration: FIG. 23. Tower of Bishopstone church (Early Norman), near Seaford, Sussex. A typical semi-defensive tower of South-Eastern England. ]