Poynings lie in the south transept,
but their tombs have been defaced. The north transept is the Montagu
Chapel; here in the window is some old glass in which we may see the
Annunciation.

The Devil's Dyke, which stands right above Poynings, is a great trench
in the Downs, dug according to the legend by the devil, whose genial
intention it was to drown holy Sussex by letting in the sea. He was
allowed from sunset to sunrise to work his will, but owing to the
vigilance of those above who had Sussex particularly in their keeping,
the cocks all began to crow long before the dawn, and the devil,
thinking his time was spent, went off in a rage before he had
completed his work. This would seem to prove what I have often
suspected that the devil is as great a fool as he looks.

The camp above the Devil's Dyke is of the usual design of a hill-top
fortress, the defence following the natural line of the hill, the
look-out having been apparently upon the north-west, whence a
remarkably extensive view is to be had both over the Weald and the
Downs. But as no water would seem to have been conserved here it is
difficult to believe that this camp was ever a permanent fortress
which only a very large number of people could have defended.
Nevertheless a great number of neolithic implements have been found
there.

From Poynings in full view of Chanctonbury the beautiful road runs all
the way at the foot of the Downs to that great gap through which the
Adur seeks the sea, and which of old was guarded by Bramber Castle. On
the way it passes through the loveliest of villages, to wit, Edburton,
where in the Early English church of St Andrew is the second of the
three Norman fonts of lead within this county. The church is
altogether interesting, for if it is for the most part of the
thirteenth century, it has a charming Decorated eastern window
and it is said that Archbishop Laud himself presented the
pulpit and altar rails. What the two low side windows were for I
know not, but the chapel on the north was dedicated in honour of St
Catherine of Alexandria.

It was already dusk when I came out of Edburton church, the late dusk
of a day in early May; and so, liking the place passing well, I
determined to sleep there and soon found a hospitable cottage. In the
morning I liked the place better still, and remembering the "tarmac"
and the sophistication (alas!) of Steyning, I decided to stay where I
was two or three days and to visit thence