The Scouring of the White Horse

asn’t quite satisfied in my mind with all that the old gentleman had told me on the hill; and, as I felt sure that Mr. Warton was a scholar, and would find out directly if there was any thing

erk, and pretended he had been listening, and made some remark in broad Berkshire. He[122] always talks much broader when he is excited, or half asleep, than when he is cool and has all hi

d,” said he, “to take so m

se now I have been up there and heard about the battle.” This wasn’t qu

the same maggot. Nothing would serve me but to find out all

arting, and giving a pull at

hin sight of him, and whose fathers fought at Ashdown, and have helped to

1

s I cares about your long-tailed words and that; but for keepin

d how much

his mouth again. I think he liked

ut the Horse, though it was little enough, an

ask you any questions I have

but you mustn’t expect

s a long time, Sir, doesn’t it? Now, how do we k

ever since the time of Henry the First; for there are cartularies of the Abbey of Abingdon in the British Museum which prov

n about the scourings and the pastime? They must ha

couring was an old custom in his time. Well, take his authority for the fact up to that time, and I think I can pu

n in the neighbouring parishes, from whom I found out a good deal that I have put dow

have been held since 1736, but I did my best to make a correct

se of the present day. But there was one thing which happened which could not very well have happened now. A fine dashing fellow, dressed like a gentleman, go

face. As soon as he had got the prize he jumped on his horse, and rode off. Presently, first one, and then another, said

o I think I had better give his own account of his ancestor and his doings. We found the old gentleman, a hale, sturdy old fello

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about the weather? Did the White

lus notices he doos it when the wind blaws moor t

w old are y

rn at Woolstone, in the hard winter, when I’ve heard

now something about

all droo’ the Crimee wars, and never got a scratch. In the Granadier Guards, Sir, he be. A uncommon sprack[25] chap, Sir, though I says it, and as bowld as

1

that came before you. What relation was Timothy G

you means my great

s. Where did he live, and

; but somehow, vather and mother didn’t s

all the more credit to you, who have gone straight; for

companions to go fust, but their hearts failed ’em, and they wouldn’t go. So Tim cried out as ‘he’d shew ’em what a Englishman could do,’ and mounted his hos and drawed his cutlash, and cut their lines a-two, and galloped off clean away; but I understood as t’other two was took. Arter that, may be a year or two, he cum down to a pastime on White Hos Hill, and won the prize at backswording; and when he took his money, fearing lest he should be knowed, he jumped on his hos under the stage, and galloped right off, and I don’t know as he ever cum again to these parts. Then I’ve

pity he didn’t go soldiering; he m

thing. I wur a good hand at elbow and collar wrastling myself, afore I g

the story I wanted to hear, so it’s f

, I never meant nothin’ o

not comfortable in his mind at having failed in telling us all he had to say about his fam’ly, of which he seemed as proud as any duke can be of his, and

1

ugh to get the printed hand-bill which was published before the one in 1776, w

d. He took up the one which the Committee put out this last time, and

st,” said he, “betwe

aid I; “why the games see

current coin of the realm reigns supreme. Then look at the happy-go-lucky way in which the old bill is put out. No date given, no name signed! who was responsible for the breeches, or t

etter and more bus

races, just as big manufacturers swallow up little ones, and big shops whole streets of little shops, and nothing but monsters

to be run for by ladies,’ is

” said he; “the bills ought to be published side b

oom.com/file/upload/201610/1

ttp://novel.tingroom.com/file/upload

d of the doings on that occasion, there is the follow

hibited to a greater number of spectators than ever assembled on any former occasion. Upwards of thirty thousand persons were present, and amongst them most of the nobility and gentry of this and the neighbouring counties; and the whole was concluded without any material accident. T

f 1776, except that in addition there was “a jingling-match by eleven blindfol

ring. He told us the story as his father had told it to him, how that “eleven on ’em started, and amongst ’em a sweep chimley and a millurd; and the millurd tripped up the sweep chimley and made the zoot

1

uld remember it when they were very little. The one who was most communicative was o

up White Hoss Hill wi’ my vather to a pastime. Vather’d brewed a barre

iam?” said

nothin’ fit to drink at thaay little beer-houses as is licensed, nor at some o’ the public-hous

the sport

days—a very nice bush. They started from Idle’s Bush, as I tell ’ee, Sir, and raced up to the Rudge-waay; and Varmer Mifflin’s mare had it all one way, and beat all the t’other on ’um holler. The pastime then wur a good ’un—a wunderful sight o’ volk of all sorts, rich and poor. John Morse of Uffing

that’s impossible,”

persisted William Ayres, “but thaay as taste

r he couldn’t have been made of a

chuckled the old

years arter, I’ll warn[28] ’twur—at Shrin’um Revel, Harry Stanley, the landlord of the Blawin’ Stwun, broke his yead, and the low-country men seemed afeard o’ Harry round about here for long arter that. Varmer Small-bwones of Sparsholt, a mazin’ stout man, and one as scarce no wun go where ’a would could drow down, beaat all the low-country chaps at wrastlin’, and none could stan’ agean ’un. And so he got the neam o’ Varmer Greaat Bwones. ’Twur only when he got a drap o’ beer a leetle too zoon, as he wur ever drowed at wr

d men could remember the exact years, and they seemed to confuse them with those that came la

iter at the Bell Inn, Farringdon, won the cheese race, and at jumping in sacks; and Thomas Street, of Niton, won the prize for grinning through horse

1

men, “with very shiny top-boots, quite gentlemen, from London,” won the prize for backsword play, one of which gentlemen was Shaw, the life-guardsman, a Wiltshire man himself as I was told, who afterwards died at Waterloo after killing so many cuirassiers. A new prize was given at this

e-in-the-Hole; who cut the great loaf into pieces at the top, and sold the pieces for a penny a piece. I am sure he must have deserved a great many pennies for running up that place, if he really ever did it; for I would just as soon undertake to run up the front of the houses in Holborn. The low country men won the first backsword prize, and one Ford, of Ashbury, the second; and the Baydon men, headed by Beckingham, Fowler, and Breakspear, won the prize for wrestling. One Henry Giles (of

t the Seven Barrows, which are distant two miles in a southeasterly direction from the White Horse, instead of in Uffington Castle; but I could not make out why. These seven barrows, I heard the Squire say, are prob

the fact, and adds that no more auspicious year could have been chosen for the revival, “than that in which our youthful and beloved Queen first wore the British crown, and in which an heir was bo

ation, and Reform, and the new Poor Law, even the quiet folk in the Vale had no time or heart to think

s we haven’t had any Reform Bill (worse luck) and

h my reason?” said he; “now you

the better of the Somersetshire men, led by Simon Stone, at backsword play; and there were two men who came down from London, who won the wrestling prize away from the countrymen. “What I remember best, however,” said Joe, “was all the to-do to get the elephant’s caravan up the hill, fo

ee why, Jo

hant out and make him pull his own caravan up? He would have been glad to do

go back again to the kitchen on the night of the 16th of September, 1857. Joe, who, as I said, was half[144] asleep while I was read

matter for the rest of you. I’ll have a saddle put on my old brown horse, and he’ll be quiet enough, for he has been at h

chever is most conveni

in thy life, Dick

truth, and said “no;” and next minute I was very glad I had, for, besides the shame of telling a lie, how much

orse. I didn’t think it necessary to say that I had never ridden any thing but the donkeys on Hampst

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