But when Ogbury Downs were originally
terraced, I don't doubt that the primitive system of universal tribal
warfare still existed everywhere in Britain. This system is aptly summed
up in the familiar modern Black Country formula, 'Yon's a stranger.
'Eave 'arf a brick at him.' Each tribe was then perpetually at war with
every other tribe on either side of it: a simple plan which rendered
foreign tariffs quite unnecessary, and most effectually protected home
industries. The consequence was, each district had to produce for its
own tribe all the necessaries of life, however ill-adapted by nature for
their due production: because traffic and barter did not yet exist, and
the only form ever assumed by import trade was that of raiding on your
neighbours' territories, and bringing back with you whatever you could
lay hands on. So the people of the chalky Ogbury valley had perforce to
grow corn for themselves, whether nature would or nature wouldn't; and,
in order to grow it under such very unfavourable circumstances of soil
and climate, they terraced off the entire hillside, by catching the silt
as it washed slowly down, and keeping it in place by artificial
barriers.
On the top of the down, overlooking this curious vale of prehistoric
terraces, rise the twin heights of Ogbury Barrows, familiar landmarks to
all the country side around for many miles. One of them is a tall,
circular mound or tumulus surrounded by a deep and well-marked trench:
the other, which stands a little on one side, is long and narrow, shaped
exactly like a modern grave, but of comparatively gigantic and colossal
proportions.
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