The Scouring of the White Horse

I must begin my story some years earlier; that is to say, in the year of our Lord 866. In this year ?thelbert, king of the West Saxons, died, having ruled

pagan Danes came over to Britain, and landed in that part of the island which was then called East Anglia, but now Norfolk. These were not the first Danes who had come ov

od many of our notions of how the world is governed, and so ought to make us think a little more ab

ing for one’s home and country, the art most esteemed amongst the Anglo-Saxons; who acknowledged “that skill and good fortune in this art, as in all others, are among the gifts of God, as we also have often witnessed.” But to go on with our story. “The skill of Lodbroc bred jealousy in the heart of Berne the huntsman, who one day, as they went out together hunting, unawares set upon Lodbroc, and having foully slain him, buried his body in the thickets of the forest. But Lodbroc had a small harrier dog, which he had bred up from its birth, and which loved him much. While Berne the huntsman went home with the other hounds, this little dog remained alone with his master’s[54] body. In the morning, the king asked what had become of Lodbroc, to which Berne answered that he had parted from him yesterday in the woods, and had not seen him since. At that moment the harrier came into the hall and went round wagging its tail, and fawning on the whole company, but especially on the king; when he had eaten his fill, he again left the hall. This happened often; until some one at last followed the dog to see where he went, and having found the body of the murdered Lodbroc, came and told the story to the king. The

Raven, in one day—which flag waved over many a bloody field, from Northumbria to Devonshire, until it was taken by King Alfred’s men, under Odda, the Alderman of Devon, before a certain castle in that county, which is called Cynuit by Asser,[56] and Kenuith elsewhere, (the situation of which castle

of Berne’s lying story, so took no more than the usual measures for preparing to attack them; but whether it was that they found King Edmund too strong for them at the time, or for some other reason, they seem

en to themselves a king ?lla, of unkingly blood, and the two were warring against one another when the Danes took York. Late in the autumn, however, a peace was made between Osbert and ?lla, and they marched to York; where within the very walls of the city into which the Northumbrians penetrated

he West Saxon power, and with Burhred besieged the Pagans, there; but they could not force the wall, and there was no great battle, and ?thelred and Alfred went home with their troops. But the Pagans, after wintering at Nottingham, made peace with Burhred and the Mercians; that is to say,

of Huntingdon, “remained there cruelly for one year.” And what sort of a winter was it for the poor Yorkshiremen? “There was again a great f

said King Edmund gathered his men, and “fought fiercely and manfully against the army. But because the merciful God foreknew that he was to arrive at the crown of martyrdom, he there fell gloriously. Of his passion I would fain insert some particulars into our history, that the sons of men may know and perceive how terrible is Christ the Son of God in the counsels of men, and with what glorious triumph he adorns those whom he tries here under the name of suffering,[60] that the saying may be fulfilled, ‘He is not crowned except he strive lawfully.’ (2 Tim. ii. 5.)”[8] Such is the lesson which the old monk Simeon, pr?centor of the Church of Durham, gets out of the death and martyrdom of King Edmund, and I know not where we are to look for a be

rly brought out of the earth by prayer, to baptize the people in, and there he led a hermit’s life on only bread and water.”[12] Yes![62] and no doubt thought himself righteous and despised others—and left the kingdom which God had given him to the Pagans, who “subdued all the land and destroyed all the ministers they came to,” which Edmund his brother had built—“and that same time they came to

s behind them; London was in ruins, and Kent had been harried over and over again by their[63] brethren the sea-kings. But some thirty miles up the Thames was a fair kingdom, stretching far away west, down to the distant sea. This was Wessex, the kingdom of the West Angles, over which ?thelred, the brother of Alfred, was now ruling, and entering on the

in an early month of the year 871, with their usual swiftness, they marched up the Thames valley and seized on Reading, a royal burg, and the then easternmost city of note in Wessex. Reading is situate on the south bank of the Thames and on the north bank of the[64] Kennet, at

ck us with the advantage of more men we may despise them, for our commander Christ, is braver than they.”[15] Whereupon the men of Wessex buckled to their work under the oaks of Englefield Chase (afterwards beloved by the great Queen Bess), and there discomfited the pagans very sore, and slew one of the two earls. In one of the old chroniclers, there are a fe

but the Pagans came out with all their forces, and after great slaughter had been made on either hand, and the brave ?thelwulf had been slain, “the Pagans had possession of the place of death.”[16] Thus the chronicle states it; probably the men of Wessex were grievously beaten, and went back with thei

ford, and along the chalk hills from Swindon and Ashbury; from the vales of the Kennet and the Thames on either flank; and a few perhaps already from Glostershire and O

which are the only sites out of Berkshire claiming this honour,[67] and supported by a tittle of authority. Besides, even supposing these three battles could have been fought in the time, yet the battle of Reading, having gone against the Saxons, (as to which every chronicler agrees,) is it likely that they should have retired past the town and stronghold of the Danes, either northeast into Buckinghamshire, or southeast into Sussex, leaving the whole of Wessex o

tisfied that the battle was fought here; but all the sites are somewhere on this range of chalk hills, of whi

ing without a doubt that victory would not lie[69] with a multitude of men, but in the pity and mercy of God,” and seeing also that, mass or no mass, the Pagans must not be allowed to get between him and his brother. “But here I must inform those who are ignorant of the fact, that the field of battle was not equal for both armies. The Pagans occupied the higher ground, and the Christians came up from below. There was also in that place a single stunted thorn-tree, which I myself have seen with my own eyes. Around this tree the opposing hosts came together with loud shouts from all sides, the one to pursue their wicked course, the other to fight for their lives, their dearest ties, and their country.” “In the midst of the fight, and when Alfred was hard pressed,”—according to Brompton, for the older chroniclers do not mention this,—“the king came up with his fresh forces.” “And when both hosts had fought long and bravely, at last the Pagans, by God’s judgment, could no longer bear the attack of the Christians, and having lost great part of their men, took to a disgraceful flight, and all the Pagan host pursued its flight not

s; King ?thelred died, and Alfred fought before the winter four more pitched battles. So, as the Saxon Chronicle sums up, “in this year nine general battles were fought against the army in the kingdom south of the Thames; besides which, Alfred, the king’s brother, and single aldermen and king’s thanes, oftentimes made attacks on them which were not numbered, and slew of them within the year one king and nine earls.” This was not what the Pagans reckoned on; the

to a beaten army in the summer, there was nothing to stop the Pagans between Reading and Exeter. The other eight battles were skirmishes in comparison with this one; they scarcely occupy five lines each in the chroniclers, and out of the king and nine Pagan earls who were slain within the year, si

d story it makes! And are those the real words of the

them, but the greater part is taken from the Chronicle of Asser, who was a conte

Chronicles then, Sir, for they don’t read at all like our mod

are great books, Sir,[74] for those who have eyes for them; godly books is the name for them, written by God-fearing men, who were not ashamed of the faith which was in them;—men who believed, Sir, that a living God was ruling in England, and that in his

ite fierce, so I made all the has

ause you see, Sir, if you or I were to cut a trench, two feet or so deep, up here, on the side of the

ford, visited the hill, and wrote a letter on the subject to Dr. Mead, the most[75] learned antiquary of that day. First he speaks of the figur

at, Sir?” said I; “why the

ied on the side of a whitish hill; but the truth is, it is a copy of the Saxon standard,

nconvenience, and has continued entire from the beginning, seems longer than his legs. The supplies, which nature is continually affording, occasion the turf to crumble and fall off into the white trench, which in many years’ time[76] produces small specks of turf, and not a little obscures the brightness of the Horse;

id I, “that is what they are doing now,

“but you will like to

pitched battles to fight between April and November.) “His troops, though victorious, were harassed and diminished by continual duty; nor did the country[77] afford, to any man’s thinking, materials proper for a work of this kind. Though he had not therefore the opportunity of raising, like other conqu

e White Horse vie with the Pyramids in d

; “don’t you see the old antiquary is an e

o hear all you can tell me,” said

the scourin

chery, which I intend by no means to justify or excuse. The practice of the best and wisest states, whose maxims we approve and profess to follow, is sufficient authority for their use. The liberty we so justly boast, and which ought to be a common blessing to all, pleads loudly for them. The common people, from their daily labour, stands at least in as much need of proper intervals of recreation as their superiors, who are exempt from it, and therefore in all free states have been indulged in sports most suited to their genius and capacity. And if manlike games[79] contribute any thing towards the support of the natural bravery of these, who are to be our bulwark and defence in times of danger, they cannot be more seasonably revived than at this juncture, when, through the general luxury and dissoluteness of the age, there was ne

now, though he see

have you nothing to say? You’re ve

I am very much obliged to you for your

aged to run off altogether, and so they would have lost a good lesson in English history—not that they would have cared much for that though. But now, I dare

very learned old gentleman who doesn’t know my name, and I have got the length of his foot, and he has asked me to luncheon, just because I

ther up over the brow of