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In Saxon times, Sussex was divided into a series of administrative districts known as rapes. One of them, the Rape of Bramber, was the backdrop to a number of mysterious deaths in the 1970s and 1980s.

The Rape of Bramber is in West Sussex. It runs from Worthing to Shoreham on the coast, and north to Horsham, between the Adur and Arun rivers. The Bramber Rape cuts across the South Downs at the so-called 'Devil's Triangle'. Local legend says that when the Devil heard that inhabitants of Sussex had become Christians, he tried to drown them by digging the Devil's Dyke, a huge trench that runs down to the sea. The earth from the excavation was piled up into three downland hills - Rackham, Chanctonbury and Cissbury. The hills of Chanctonbury and Cissbury are topped by ancient circles, which seem to be the site of modern-day pagan or satanic rituals. They are also the favoured sites of UFO-spotters.

Those who believe in such things say that the ley lines that run through Chanctonbury and Cissbury Rings meet at Clapham Wood on the A27, just outside the villages of Clapham and Patching. Normally, there would be no reason to think that there is anything special about this wood. But David Bennett, the churchwarden of Clapham church, used to record nightingales singing there. Then in the early 1970s he found that the night birds were no longer to be heard. The woods had fallen strangely silent. Other woodsmen noticed that the teeming wildlife - the foxes, badgers, rabbits and squirrels that used to inhabit the woods - had The Rapes of Sussex

In Saxon times, Sussex was divided into a series of administrative districts known as rapes. One of them, the Rape of Bramber, was the backdrop to a number of mysterious deaths in the 1970s and 1980s.

The Rape of Bramber is in West Sussex. It runs from Worthing to Shoreham on the coast, and north to Horsham, between the Adur and Arun rivers. The Bramber Rape cuts across the South Downs at the so-called 'Devil's Triangle'. Local legend says that when the Devil heard that inhabitants of Sussex had become Christians, he tried to drown them by digging the Devil's Dyke, a huge trench that runs down to the sea. The earth from the excavation was piled up into three downland hills - Rackham, Chanctonbury and Cissbury. The hills of Chanctonbury and Cissbury are topped by ancient circles, which seem to be the site of modern-day pagan or satanic rituals. They are also the favoured sites of UFO-spotters.

Those who believe in such things say that the ley lines that run through Chanctonbury and Cissbury Rings meet at Clapham Wood on the A27, just outside the villages of Clapham and Patching. Normally, there would be no reason to think that there is anything special about this wood. But David Bennett, the churchwarden of Clapham church, used to record nightingales singing there. Then in the early 1970s he found that the night birds were no longer to be heard. The woods had fallen strangely silent. Other woodsmen noticed that the teeming wildlife - the foxes, badgers, rabbits and squirrels that used to inhabit the woods - had also disappeared. The woods had become a dank place, smelling of sulphur, stagnation and death.

People walking in the woods also reported strange feelings - headaches, dizziness, stomach cramps, a sudden weakness of the limbs. Some drivers on the A27, which borders the woods, said that they felt a strange force on the steering wheel, tugging it out of their hands, as if a magnet were pulling them towards the woods. And two hikers ran from the woods one evening when a patch of mist suddenly transformed itself into the shape of a bear.

During the late 1970s and early 1980s there was a series of strange fires in the area - nine during the autumn of 1978 alone. They may have been the work of an arsonist, but one occurred in the engine of a car which caught fire on a section of the road called Long Furlong where drivers regularly reported their engines going faulty.

Local UFO-spotters reported increased activity in the area of the woods. Strange lights were seen and crop circles appeared in the wheat fields of Patching. And a mandrake plant, long established in Clapham Wood, was mysteriously uprooted in 1978. Mandrake, with its hallucinogenic properties, has long been associated with the occult, particularly with the followers of the Greek demon Hecate.

Local dogs started disappearing. In April 1975, a three-year-old chow, owned by Peter Love of Patching, was being taken for a walk by his son in an area of the wood known as The Chestnuts. The dog ran in among the trees and did not return when called. Despite a thorough search of the area, no trace of the dog was ever found. The following week a two-year-old collie, owned by Clapham farmer John Cornford, disappeared at the same spot. Again a thorough search was instigated, but no trace was ever found. A golden retriever owned by- a Mr E. F. Rawlins from Worthing was found partially paralysed after running into the woods. It had to be put down. A collie belonging to Mrs E. T. Wells of Durrington became frantic if taken near the woods and a pug suffered what amounted to an epileptic fit there - though, later, a vet could find no cause for the dog's symptoms. A horse also went missing in the wood. The rider dismounted to relieve himself, leaving the animal tied to a tree. When he returned, it had gone. It has not been seen since.

Charles Walker, a researcher into the paranormal, began investigating the bizarre goings-on in the woods in 1978. One evening in the autumn, he received a phone call from a well-spoken gentleman who said that he had background knowledge on some of the strange events that had been reported in the local press. Walker was not surprised by the phone call. He had made strenuous efforts to find out whether the woods were being used by an occult group, and, as part of his investigation, he had had a number of letters published in local newspapers soliciting information.

The caller asked Walker to meet him in Clapham Wood, at the cross-roads in The Chestnuts, in half an hour. Intrigued, Walker drove down the A27 to Clapham. He parked in the small lay-by off the dual carriageway which was otherwise empty that night. He got out of the car and he pushed open the wooden kissing gate into the wood itself. It was pitch black that night and Walker had trouble negotiating the brambles as he trudged up the pathway. Soon he left the flash of headlights and the sound of the traffic far behind him.

At the top of the hill, there was a signpost which marked a cross-roads where two bridle paths intersected. This was the rendezvous. There was no one there, so Walker walked on a little, then he walked back past the signpost again. He walked back and forth several times. There was still no one there, but he began to sense that he was not alone.

Then, from among some bushes, Walker heard a voice: 'Don't attempt to look for me! For your safety and mine, it is imperative you do not see who I am.'

Walker froze. The voice was the one he had heard on the telephone. In the darkness, the concealed informant explained that he was an initiate in a satanic sect called the Friends of Hecate which had been formed there in Sussex. The woods were used by the sect for their meetings, once a month. And the disappearing animals were used as sacrifices which had to be made at each meeting.

They were now standing near the place where the sacrifices were made, though when the weather was bad 'other arrangements were made', the hidden informant said. The group had been using the woods for around ten years. They intended to use them for another ten years when they would 'select other areas in which to spread the word'. The informant said that all he was saying could be confirmed by another initiate who was hidden in the undergrowth with him.

Walker was scared. How many other members of the sect might there be hidden in the darkness? But he took some comfort in the thought that his enquiries might have been misinterpreted and the group might think that he was a potential convert interested in joining.

Then came the terrible warning: 'There are people in high places involved, holding positions of power and authority, who will tolerate no interference,' said the disembodied voice. 'We will stop at nothing to ensure the safety of our cult.'

This final threat terrified Walker. Barely a week before, on Halloween, the retired vicar of Clapham, the Reverend Harry Neil Snelling, had gone missing.

Reverend Snelling had been rector of Clapham and Patching from 1960 to 1974 and, in retirement, lived in nearby Steyning. During his time there, he had set up the local branch of the Samaritans. Walker knew that Hecate was goddess of suicides and untimely deaths. The Reverend Snelling had been in good spirits on the day he disappeared. He had been to the dentist in Goring. On the way, he had chatted to other passengers on the bus. On the way home, he called his wife from a phone box in Findon. When she told him that the car was out of action and that she would not be able to come and pick him up, he said that he would walk home over the Downs.

When the Reverend did not turn up, Mrs Snelling called the police. Twenty-five officers were called in to search the area. Tracker dogs and a light aircraft also assisted. They found no trace.

The locals were particularly concerned about the safety of Father Snelling. There had been several unexplained deaths in the area. The body of a young woman was found on the Downs in April 1972. Police Constable Peter Goldsmith had been working as the coroner's officer at the time. He was forty-six, six feet six inches tall and a former Royal Marine Commando. His wife was a state registered nurse. They had two daughters and the family fitted in well in the village of Steyning where they had moved two years earlier. After the woman's body was found, PC John Grigson, a friend of Goldsmith, said that Goldsmith was quiet and nervous, and seemed to be worried about something. One day, Goldsmith and Grigson were burning old paperwork concerning former inquests when Goldsmith remarked: 'All those suicides and sudden deaths come back to me and make me feel sick. I will never do this again.'

On 2 June 1972, PC Goldsmith called in at the police station. He was last seen at around 3.30 p.m., carrying a brown canvas hold-all and walking in the direction of the Downs where the young woman's body had been found. When he did not return home that evening, his wife reported him missing. And when he did not report for duty the following morning, a massive man hunt was organised. Ninety-five policemen, some of them mounted, twenty-six dog handlers, a diving team, and a helicopter were used to comb every inch of the surrounding area. The hunt continued throughout June, July and August. A number of leads were followed up, but none were fruitful. The police family and friends were baffled.

Then on 13 December 1972 - six months after PC Goldsmith had disappeared - a farmer from Fulking, Edward Llewellyn Harris, was out beating for a shooting party at Pepperscombe. At around 3 p.m., he stumbled across a badly decomposed body in a thicket of brambles. It was less than half a mile from the spot where the body of the unidentified young woman had been found. The body was identified as that of PC Goldsmith, but no cause of death could be established. There were no obvious injuries and no sign of a struggle. Goldsmith's body was not lying as if he had suddenly collapsed with a heart attack. He was lying on his side, as if he had crawled into the thicket and gone to sleep before he died.

More puzzling was that it was mid-summer when he disappeared. At that time of the year, the thicket would have been impenetrable. The bramble thorns would have ripped his clothes and flesh to shreds. What's more, the thicket was in an area that had been thoroughly searched.

Another body was found in Clapham Wood on 4 August 1975. It was discovered by Hugo Healy and his wife who were out searching for a missing horse. The body belonged to Leon Foster. It had lain there for three weeks. Again, it was badly decayed and no cause of death could be established. Like Goldsmith, Foster had lain down as if to go to sleep. There was a makeshift bed of straw near the corpse.

Although Foster was sixty-six, he was in good health. He walked the Downs regularly. His sister-in-law, Mrs Edna Foster, is adamant that he would not have taken his own life. The autopsy showed that he had not eaten or drunk anything for several days before he died.

Walker nearly died himself. A few weeks after the mysterious meeting with the Friends of Hecate, he was hit by a car while cycling home. The car sped off without stopping, leaving him with head and back injuries and a partial paralysis which lasted for weeks.

The following spring, Walker returned to Clapham. After a visit to the church, he spotted a medieval barn, in the grounds of the manor, which is said to be the oldest building in the village. Walker remembered that his mysterious contact had said that in bad weather the cult 'made other arrangements'. So he climbed over the wall of the manor ground and walked over to the barn. The door was open so he went in. Inside, the barn was decorated like some sort of satanic chapel. On the west wall there was a huge mural depicting the Devil surrounded by flames. Christian churches have the altar to the east, the direction of the rising sun. Devil worshippers pray to the west. After taking a photograph, Walker left the barn, to be confronted by a man with a shotgun. He shouted angrily and chased Walker, who managed to escape. Around that time a number of casual visitors to the woods found their way barred by men with shotguns.

Another researcher into the paranormal, Toyne Newton, turned up in the area with a photographer. Newton says that the locals were suspicious to the point of open hostility, while his photographer was cross-questioned by the police.

It was not until three years after Reverend Snelling had gone missing that there was any clue to his fate. In August 1981, the Worthing police received a letter from a young Canadian tourist named Michael Raine. It enclosed the Reverend Snelling's credit card and…….

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