The two major historical presences where I live in East Sussex are Rudyard Kipling, village poet
Roses are red, violets are blue, titanium is sweet, 'til it cracks throughwho's always happy to
help with photo ops, and "Mad" Jack Fuller. Here's a short intro to Jack as we embark on a tour of his follies:

We'll start with this 65' skyscratcher, aka The Needle.

It's on private land, but on one of my rides I stopped by and got permission from the landowner for a closer look. This involved climbing a couple of gates and shouldering my Litespeed (unfortunately I can’t always have the Enigma on hand when opportunity presents!) for a tramp across the field. You'd better believe it was coming with me.

Closer.

A
lot closer.

Commemoration of victories by Nelson and/or Wellington?
Priapic trophy celebrating a more personal conquest? There's no inscription or record, so nobody knows for sure.
Proceeding clockwise we come to the wall, and indeed it may feel like you're hitting it after a day winching yourself up the hills the Weald has to offer. This isn't a folly, but I've included it because at 4 miles it's by far the largest of the works the squire wrought upon the landscape. Don't know how much of it is left. This bit is certainly crumbly.

The pyramid in St Thomas a Becket churchyard gets most of the press.
Word is that Jack is "sitting inside at a table, roast chicken in front of him, a bottle of vintage claret to his right hand."

However, I can confirm that there is no sign of a banquet in progress.

Whole lotta nothing. But wait…

Josie Dew, what are you doing in there?
Next let's head to a nearby stand of trees

where a tower grows.

Once upon a time you could climb up in it, but Elf & Safety put paid to that a while ago. Some say it was used by workmen to signal

for materials for repairs on his Bodiam Castle bachelor pad, about 7 miles east.

Basically, the man had no shortage of towers. Take a short trip to the castle by clicking
HERE
Bodiam belongs to the National Trust. This presented a problem, as one cannot enter the property without
an outlay of funds I was unwilling to part with for such a quick visit, or a magic membership card (I gave mine up when Covid came calling and haven’t yet renewed).

It's not like they have guards at the entrance to the grounds, but waltzing in with a bike frame wasn't exactly inconspicuous. I had just about contented myself with this

when I bumped into an employee on his way through a locked gate. After a friendly chat he granted me entry for my mission.
Waiting its turnI stopped by the
pillbox on my way out – thankfully no longer manned to deter cheapskates –
Deceptively spacious
Locked and loadedthen took a stroll to the nearby heritage railway station, which the peeps on
TripAdvisor seem to rate.

All in all it was a splendid afternoon.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a rotunda.

If you'd like to to swoop around until you're dizzy, this video should do the trick:
Jack probably used it for parties and such.
Englargements available, as is Tony Soprano's robeAlmost forgot this:

Here's the Sugar Loaf, so-called because we love anachronisms. Clearly it should be the Traffic Cone.

Jack being the sort to get into wagers, and with disposable income to burn, this is said to have been built after he claimed he could see the spire of St Giles in Dallington from his estate. Well, he could now (though one can't imagine him shinnying his way up, and what looks like a bricked in window doesn't seem high enough and is inconveniently pointed the wrong direction. The moral may be, don't take these stories too seriously.)
A family later took up residence; I don't think it was their getaway pad from the high life in London. It also made a cozy machine gun nest in WWII.
The church in question
Saint with selfie of favourite deerimage not safe for the pious or anyone with good taste
"As Giles was celebrating Mass to pardon the Emperor Charlemagne's sins, an angel deposited upon the altar a letter outlining a sin so terrible Charlemagne had never dared confess it."

One more of the Sugar Loaf in all its forced perspective glory. Make it touch the sky, I imagine Jack saying.

On to Brightling Observatory.
This engraving 
was based on a watercolour by Turner, someone Fuller commissioned from time to time. You could squint at that, but there's really no need.

It was equipped with telescope

and camera obscura.

We've now come full circle back to The Needle,

so until I get around to finding Jack's
summer house, this brings us to the end of the follies tour, except for fulfilling a request on one of the forums where I posted many of these pictures...