From the Sussex Country Magazine July 1929
Myths and Fairytales
By the Rev A A Evans
On the top of Friston Hill (west of Eastbourne) there had stood for a hundred years or more a fair landmark: a windmill, whose white radiant arms could be seen on either side for many miles. The old mill had reached, as so many of these picturesque things have, desuetude and decay, and on a stormy Sunday morning of January 10 1926, the comely pile bowed itself and fell, and all that was and is left are the mighty upright post and its crossbeam.
Now this solitary post and crossbeam are objects of wonder and high speculation to strangers who come from beyond the land of Sussex. What can it be? Many and unexplained are the theories put out, which I have listened to. A Calvary, but of the T-shaped pattern, put up by a High Church vicar! A mediaeval survival of mystic significance! But I was severely brought to book by two staid, unromantic-looking ladies who stopped me.
"Oh, you are the vicar here, aren’t you? Now you can tell us what we want to know. That great object, it is a gibbet, isn’t it? Now don’t say no. it must be a gibbet, for it is awfully prominent, just the sort of thing to hang people on."
I told them that it was only the oaken supports of a vanished windmill, but I utterly failed to convince them; they went away cherishing their illusion.
"It must be a gibbet, it looks as a gibbet should look."
So grow myth, fairy-tale, and wondrous legend.