England's ancient giants: whispers of gods and rebels on the chalk hills
Across the rolling chalk landscapes of England, colossal figures etched into the hillsides stand as silent witnesses to millennia of history, folklore, and human endeavor. From the suggestive Cerne Abbas Giant to the enigmatic Uffington White Horse, these monumental carvings are not mere geological oddities, but living testaments to a rich and often contested past – a past Jon Woolcott explores in his new book, The Tattooed Hills.
A yew’s embrace and the long man's gaze
Woolcott’s journey begins in East Sussex, where the ancient yew tree at Wilmington Priory, its trunk seemingly devouring a gravestone, sets a tone of uncanny beauty. Across the hill, the Long Man of Wilmington, once a vibrant chalk giant, now marked with concrete, holds a palpable presence. The figure, possibly Anglo-Saxon in origin—resembling a buckle design linked to the god Odin—has captivated artists like Lee Miller and Roland Penrose, inspiring surrealist depictions and lending an air of protective spirit to their home.
But the story doesn’t end with artistic musings. Woolcott traces the routes these figures occupy, revealing how they intertwine with ancient trackways, once trod by pilgrims, traders and warriors. He notes, “There is no need to go to the ends of the earth for interesting quests and excitement. It is here, in prosaic old England, at one’s back door.”

The cerne giant: a provocative enigma
The walk from the Long Man to the Litlington White Horse was curtailed by a thunderstorm, a reminder that these hills demand respect. The author’s path then lead him to the Wessex Ridgeway, where the imposing Cerne Abbas Giant dominates the valley. The figure, with its decidedly phallic form and club, has sparked endless debate—was it Romano-British, a 17th-century Cromwellian jest, or a depiction of the pagan god Helith? Woolcott leans toward a Saxon image of Hercules or a local saint, Eadwold, highlighting its inherent ambiguity: “This giant is an unreliable shapeshifter, a joker.”

White horses and britpop nostalgia
Venturing further into Wiltshire’s chalk hills, Woolcott encounters a constellation of white horses, each with its own story. The Alton Barnes White Horse, briefly featured in a Dodgy music video, became a symbol of 90s Britpop nostalgia, complete with VW camper vans and crop circles. Nearby, the Cherhill horse served as the backdrop for a Timelords video, a precursor to the KLF’s notorious art-terrorist antics.

The uffington horse: a millennial guardian
Perhaps the most remarkable of all is the elongated Uffington White Horse, dated to the late Bronze Age—a staggering 3,000 years old. For millennia, generations have diligently maintained this ancient monument, keeping it tethered to its windswept hill. Kate Bush immortalized it in her video for “Cloudbusting,” and Andy Partridge of XTC declared it a formative influence: “It marked me like an Avebury stone.”
A tapestry of echoes
The Icknield Way, weaving through the chalk spine of England, reveals further figures—Whiteleaf Cross, the Watlington White Mark (a clever trompe l’oeil), and the Whipsnade White Lion, occasionally nibbled by curious wallabies. At Wandlebury, the Gog Magog Hills, the author reflects on the enduring power of these landscapes, the way they resonate with folklore and history. The echoes of the past are palpable, a testament to the human desire to leave its mark on the world, etched into the very fabric of the land.
Woolcott’s journey is a reminder that the most extraordinary discoveries often lie close to home, waiting to be unearthed—not with shovels and picks, but with an open mind and a willingness to listen to the whispers of the hills.
