The Newmarket, Bury, Thetford and Cromer Road: Sport and history on an East Anglian turnpikeHarper, Charles G. (Charles George)
History
The Newmarket, Bury, Thetford and Cromer Road: Sport and history on an East Anglian turnpike
Harper, Charles G. (Charles George)
England -- Description and travel; England -- Social life and customs
Legends are not rare in this neighbourhood. Indeed, along the by-road in
the direction of Moulton one reaches Folly Hill, the crest of the downs
can be seen from here, with a fragment of wall and a clump of
beech-trees on its summit, and a story of its own in the making. Here,
in fact, we are peculiarly fortunate, for on Folly Hill it is possible
to note the genesis of a legend and to record it ere time has evolved a
story, full-blown and mysterious, out of very matter-of-fact materials.
A story of sorts is, indeed, already current in Newmarket, where the
enquiring stranger after things in general can obtain some finely
inaccurate information as to what he may expect to see on Folly Hill, or
“God’s Evil,” as it is alternatively known. With this he is prepared to
find a stone pillar in a wood, the sole relic of a house built, at some
time unspecified, by “a man almost a millionaire,” unfortunately
unnamed, but with the blackest of reputations.
There is not really (it may at once be said) any such pillar, but the
gable-end of a ruined old red-brick house stands up against the sky on
the hill-top, and is known to the farmer of Trinity Hall Farm, on which
it stands, as “the Pilgrim.” The ploughmen know the beech clump on the
hill as “Cobbler’s Bush,” because, according to their tale, “a ole
cobbler what used to mend boots lived there. There’s a ole tree there
what nobody mustn’t touch, because he planted it.”
“And what is that old building on the hill-top?”
“That’s a ole rewing they calls the Barks. Nobody mustn’t touch it.”
“Not touch it; why not?”
“Because the soldiers come to look at it.”
At that explanation a flood of light is thrown upon the name of “Barks.”
It is the local pronunciation of “Barracks,” and that name comes, of
course, from the “soldiers” who go to look at it. Who are those
soldiers? Merely those who have at some time or other accompanied a
surveying party of the Ordnance Survey, for map-making purposes. No
doubt a fine gory embattled legend will be built on this some day,
probably with Cromwell, that arch-villain of popular imagination, as the
moving figure in it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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