In ancient days used for burning people who were not really witches, military archery practice, and where in 1652 Oliver Cromwell commissioned a fortified citadel be built for his troops. Nowadays it is the peaceful parkland I walk through to return to my car after golf. A small audience of readers also know it as being traversed by the road where a Lady Lord met her unfortunate demise in the not yet prize-winning novel Sample 717. Two rather oddly dressed beings known as Adrig and Edrig have been reputed to converse in unintelligible squeaky noises here as well. A fine place.