OLT> HILL 



FIFTY years ago, in the old coaching days, when the 

 only Flying Dutchman that Kad yet been heard of was, 

 the phantom ship of Yanderdecken, the traveller from 

 Bristol city found his way westward by a road that ran 

 through the very heart of Mendip. And as his steeds 

 toiled slowly up the pass that leads into the hills, he had 

 leisure to note upon the northern limit of the range, 

 crowning a hill that rises steeply from the Vale of 

 Wrington, the ramparts of an ancient camp. 



There are no coaches now upon that well-kept road. 

 Silence has settled on its wayside inns. The Flying 

 Dutchman of our time passes the hills so far to westward 

 that from its flying cars the camp is hardly seen. 



The Mendips are rich in such memorials of the past. 

 The whole county, indeed, abounds in points of interest 

 to the historian and the antiquary. The dykes of 

 Sedgemoor played a part in " the last battle worthy of 

 the name fought on English ground." From the keep 

 of Taunton Blake replied to Goring that he would eat 



