The Scouring of the White Horse
By E.R. Gardiner, m.a.
The story of our village feasts, and of the way in which the rude forefathers of the hamlet were wont to enjoy themselves, forms a chapter in our manners and customs which cannot but have considerable interest to the student of bygone times. One of the most interesting relics of this kind pertains to the County of Berks. Upon White Horse Hill in that county, there used to be celebrated at stated intervals a feast known throughout the countryside as "The Scouring of the White Horse." This has been so admirably and exhaustively treated by Judge Hughes, Q.C. (Tom Brown) in his well-known book on the subject that it is almost hopeless for anyone writing on the same topic to do otherwise than follow in his wake.
SKETCH GROUND PLAN OF THE WHITE HORSE.
A few words on the history of the White Horse of Berkshire seem necessary as an introduction to the subject, although its origin, like that of the old historic earldom of Mar, seems to be lost in the mists of antiquity. White Horse Hill is the highest point of the range of chalk hills which the traveller by rail sees on his left hand as he journeys down the Great Western Railway between Didcot and Swindon, and is plainly seen as he approaches Uffington Station. Its summit reaches the height of 856 feet, and commands an extensive view over what is known as the Vale of White Horse, no less than eleven counties being, so it is said, visible therefrom. It derives its name from the rude figure of a horse cut out in the chalk on the north-west side of the hill, some 374 feet long, and with its outline marked by trenches ten feet wide, cut two or three feet deep in the turf to the white subsoil. A very common tradition ascribes its formation to King Alfred, in memory of his decisive victory over the Danes at the battle of Æcesdun, something over a thousand years ago. The tradition has no doubt arisen from the fact that the Saxon standard was a White Horse, the well-known names of Hengist and Horsa being probably mere forms of this ensign. If this were the only turf carving of a similar character to be found in England, there might be a good deal to say in favour of this tradition. But such figures are not rare, and some of them have, for cogent reasons into which we have not space to enter, been attributed to times far more remote than those of Saxon and Dane. With regard to this particular turf-carving, although we may allow the horse to have been the Saxon standard, and that King Alfred, in setting up "his banner for a token," would only have been following ancient practice, yet, plausible as this may sound, it would have been far more in accordance with what we might have expected had he set up a cross to commemorate his victory. In fact, not so very far away, in the hamlet of Monks Risborough in the Chiltern Hills, there is a hill figure of a cross, nearly a hundred feet in height, which, with quite as good if not better reason, is conjectured to be a memorial set up by Alfred, to record a victory over the Danes at Bledlow. And further, the figure of a horse as a badge or device is far older than Saxon times, for on a coin of Cunobelin (the Cymbeline of Shakespeare), who reigned in Britain, A.D. 40, the figure of a horse on its reverse is very similar to the turf-carving with which we are dealing. Indeed, there is much more in favour of these hill-side figures being of a date far anterior to Saxon or Roman times. For to the right below White Horse Hill is a high mound known as the Dragon Hill upon a piece of ground at the top of which grass does not grow. Here was ample scope for a tradition, which, coupled with the name of the Hill, developed into the story that this was the identical spot on which St. George (or "King Gaarge," according to the rustics) slew the Dragon, and that no verdure ever grew on the place over which its poisonous blood flowed. But unfortunately this derivation collapses when it is found that the name of the Hill should be Pend-ragon, which, in Celtic, signifies "Chief of Kings," and was, as Mr. Wise points out in his letter to Dr. Mead, written in 1736, the common appellation of a British King constituted such by vote in times of public distress. Thus, as we learn from Cæsar's Commentaries Cassibelan was chosen Pendragon by the allies at the time of Julius Cæsar's invasion. So much then for the history and traditions of the White Horse.
The festival called the "Scouring," about which we are more immediately concerned, is, comparatively speaking, a manageable subject, although the aforementioned Mr. Wise, writing 150 years ago, speaks of it as a ceremony, which, "from time immemorial has been solemnized by a numerous concourse of people from all the villages round about." The importance which he attaches to it seems to us at this time of day a trifle exaggerated, for, after appealing to all persons who have a regard for ancient customs whether such a solemnity would not deserve the countenance of the nobility and gentry, a sentiment in which many will heartily join, he goes on to suggest that if the festival were solemnized at regular intervals, say of four years, the common people would use it as a mode of reckoning their time, which would then very properly be done by speaking of the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th year of the Scouring of the Horse: and not only this, but the worthy author goes on to say he should not despair of its creating a new era in English history, viz., The Restoration of the Saxon Olympics. Here surely we have enthusiasm gone mad.