{19} Thus much for the Uffington Horse. The next which challenges our attention is that on Bratton Hill, near Westbury, Wilts. And here we again meet with King Alfred and his exploits. “In the same year” (viz., a.d. 878, seven years subsequently to the battle of Reading and traditional cutting of the Uffington Horse), “after Easter, King Alfred, with a few of his partisans, found a stronghold in a place which is called Æthelingey, and from that stronghold continued indefatigably to wage war against the Pagans, at the head of the noblemen, his vassals, of Somersetshire. And, again, the seventh week after Easter, he rode to the stone Œgbryhta, which is in the eastern part of the forest which is called Selwood, but in Latin, Silva {20} magna, in British Coitmaur; and there met him all the inhabitants of Somerset and Wiltshire, and all such inhabitants of Hampshire as had not sailed beyond sea for fear of the Pagans, and upon seeing the King received him as was proper, like one come to life again after so many troubles, and were filled with excessive joy, and there they encamped for one night. At dawn of the following day he came to a place that is called Ethandun, and fiercely warring against the whole army of the Pagans with serried masses, and courageously persevering for a long time, by Divine favour, at last gained the victory, overthrew the Pagans with very great slaughter, and put them to flight, and pursued them with deadly blows, even to their stronghold, and all he found outside of it, men, horses, and sheep, he seized, immediately killed the men, and boldly encamped before the entrance of the Pagan stronghold with all his army.”
For fourteen days the siege lasted, after which time the enemy surrendered: and then followed, according to local tradition, the cutting of the White Horse on Bratton Hill, to commemorate the victory; which victory was, as Gough remarks, “much more considerable than the other won by Alfred. In the former he only acted as his brother Ethelred’s lieutenant. In this he was not only Commander-in-chief, but King of England: his affairs were in a most critical situation, and the Danes masters of his kingdom.”—Gough’s Camden, p. 146.
But here the question arises as to whether it was really in the neighbourhood of Westbury that this fight {21} took place. There is but very little doubt but that the site of “the stone Œgbryhta,” or Ecbyrt’s stone, is Brixton Deverell. But where Æcglea was is pure matter of conjecture, and for the representation of Ethandun, or Edderandum, pretty strong claims have been put in, not only by Edington, near Westbury, but also by Heddington, near Calne, and Yattondown, near Chippenham; the argument in favour of first-named place being supported by Camden and Sir R. C. Hoare, the second by Milner and others, and the third by Whitaker and Beke. If Heddington (called Edendone in Domesday Book) be the place, then the seat of the Danish stronghold must have been what is now known as Oldborough Camp, immediately above the Cherhill Horse. If, however, it be Edington, then no doubt the place in which the Danes entrenched themselves was what is now called Bratton Castle,—a long encampment with double ramparts, enclosing about twenty-three acres of ground. It would take more pages of this little work than we can afford for the purpose to give even a sketch of the various arguments which have been adduced on one side and other in this matter. We think, however, that we may say that the balance of authority seems very distinctly to lean to the side of Edington; and if so, the Westbury Horse would stand between the scene of King Alfred’s victory and the stronghold from which he subsequently drove the defeated Danes.
But, alas, even if this be the case, the memorial of King Alfred’s victory has long since ceased to exist,—ruined by the same unenlightened spirit which has {22} destroyed so many precious historical remains of mediæval architecture, in order to substitute for them a tower, or a roof, or a window, which some wiseacre or other thinks to be more in keeping with the rest of the structure than such as have been gradually added to meet the needs of successive generations.
Fortunately, however, we possess a drawing of the old horse, made in 1772 by Gough, the editor of Camden, of which a copy will be found on p. 23, fig. 6. The dimensions, as given by Gough, are: extreme length, 100 feet; extreme height, nearly as much; from toe to chest, 54 feet. The drawing is evidently in perspective and very much foreshortened.
Now there are in the old horse as thus depicted several very remarkable points. Not the least of these is the crescent-shaped tip given to the tail, which one would, perhaps, have been disposed to regard as accidental were it not that on more than one ancient British coin we meet with something more or less resembling it, and in the case of a coin of Cunobeline, figured in Holland’s Camden, p. 89, fig. v., we find, together with the horse, a crescent introduced, evidently for some set purpose. Now the crescent is a symbol of Ceridwen, whom we have before mentioned as being represented under the form of a mare, and to whom all horses were, therefore, probably regarded as being more or less sacred. Taliesin, in the poem before quoted, speaks of the “strong horse of the crescent,” which is generally supposed by commentators to refer to a son of Ceridwen, by Neivion (i.e., Neptune). It must not, however, be forgotten that in all Teutonic {23}{Figs. 6–7}{24} languages the word for moon is masculine. Ælius Spartianus, in his life of Caracalla (c. 6 and 7), speaks of the “lunus deus,” and says that he who considers that the moon should be called by a female name is the slave of women. The word for moon (mâs) is also masculine in Sanskrit.
The destruction of the old Westbury Horse and re-cutting of the new one (fig. 7) was perpetrated in 1778 by a wretch of the name of Gee, who was steward to Lord Abingdon, and who, while employed on a survey of that nobleman’s estates in the parish of Westbury, “new-modelled” it, and in so doing changed its whole character; the old one having been, according to Sir R. C. Hoare, “of the cart breed,” and the new one “of the blood kind.” The latter fact would not seem apparent at first sight. The horse was repaired and the outlines practically recut about the year 1853. As at present existing its extreme length, from head to tail, both included, is 175 feet; height, from feet to shoulder, 107 feet; circumference of eye, 25 feet.
It will be noticed that the old horse is represented as facing to sinister, whereas the modern one faces to dexter. Now it is scarcely likely that Mr. Gee when recutting the horse would have taken the trouble to turn it round, which would have involved a vast amount of patching and piecing of the turf. A more probable explanation is that the engraver of Mr. Gough’s representation transferred his drawing to the wood as it stood, instead of reversing it, and that the figure therefore appears facing the reverse way to what it really did. It must, however, be admitted that, if {25} this be the case, it is somewhat curious that the horse should have been cut facing to dexter, when all the ancient British coins without exception (as has been already stated) shew the opposite position. The reason of this is, however, a question which can never now be decided.
