AndthenwhatahillistheWhiteHorseHill！Thereitstandsrightupabovealltherest，ninehundredfeetabovethesea，andtheboldest，bravestshapeforachalkhillthatyoueversaw。Letusgouptothetopofhim，andseewhatistobefoundthere。Ay，youmaywellwonderandthinkitoddyouneverheardofthisbefore；butwonderornot，asyouplease，therearehundredsofsuchthingslyingaboutEngland，whichwiserfolkthanyouknownothingof，andcarenothingfor。Yes，it’samagnificentRomancamp，andnomistake，withgatesandditchandmounds，allascompleteasitwastwentyyearsafterthestrongoldroguesleftit。Here，rightuponthehighestpoint，fromwhichtheysayyoucanseeelevencounties，theytrenchedroundallthetable-land，sometwelveorfourteenacres，aswastheircustom，fortheycouldn’tbearanybodytooverlookthem，andmadetheireyrie。Thegroundfallsawayrapidlyonallsides。Wasthereeversuchturfinthewholeworld？Yousinkuptoyouranklesateverystep，andyetthespringofitisdelicious。Thereisalwaysabreezeinthe“camp，“asitiscalled；andhereitlies，justastheRomansleftit，exceptthatcairnontheeastside，leftbyherMajesty’scorpsofsappersandminerstheotherday，whentheyandtheengineerofficerhadfinishedtheirsojournthere，andtheirsurveysfortheordnancemapofBerkshire。Itisaltogetheraplacethatyouwon’tforget，aplacetoopenaman’ssoul，andmakehimprophesy，ashelooksdownonthatgreatValespreadoutasthegardenoftheLordbeforehim，andwaveonwaveofthemysteriousdownsbehind，andtotherightandleftthechalkhillsrunningawayintothedistance，alongwhichhecantraceformilestheoldRomanroad，“theRidgeway““theRudge，“asthecountryfolkcallit，keepingstraightalongthehighestbackofthehills——suchaplaceasBalakbroughtBalaamto，andtoldhimtoprophesyagainstthepeopleinthevalleybeneath。
Andhecouldnot，neithershallyou，fortheyareapeopleoftheLordwhoabidethere。
Andnowweleavethecamp，anddescendtowardsthewest，andareontheAshdown。Wearetreadingonheroes。ItissacredgroundforEnglishmen——moresacredthanallbutoneortwofieldswheretheirbonesliewhitening。ForthisistheactualplacewhereourAlfredwonhisgreatbattle，thebattleofAshdown“Aescendum“inthechroniclers，whichbroketheDanishpower，andmadeEnglandaChristianland。TheDanesheldthecampandtheslopewherewearestanding——thewholecrownofthehill，infact。“Theheathenhadbeforehandseizedthehigherground，“
asoldAssersays，havingwastedeverythingbehindthemfromLondon，andbeingjustreadytoburstdownonthefairVale，Alfred’sownbirthplaceandheritage。AnduptheheightscametheSaxons，astheydidattheAlma。“TheChristiansleduptheirlinefromthelowerground。Therestoodalsoonthatsamespotasinglethorn-tree，marvellousstumpywhichweourselveswithourveryowneyeshaveseen。“Blesstheoldchronicler！
Doeshethinknobodyeversawthe“singlethorn-tree“buthimself？Why，thereitstandstothisveryday，justontheedgeoftheslope，andIsawitnotthreeweekssince——anoldsinglethorn-tree，“marvellousstumpy。“Atleast，ifitisn’tthesametreeitoughttohavebeen，forit’sjustintheplacewherethebattlemusthavebeenwonorlost——“aroundwhich，asIwassaying，thetwolinesoffoemencametogetherinbattlewithahugeshout。Andinthisplaceoneofthetwokingsoftheheathenandfiveofhisearlsfelldownanddied，andmanythousandsoftheheathensideinthesameplace。“*Afterwhichcrowningmercy，thepiousking，thattheremightneverbewantingasignandamemorialtothecountry-side，carvedoutonthenorthernsideofthechalkhill，underthecamp，whereitisalmostprecipitous，thegreatSaxonWhiteHorse，whichhewhowillmayseefromtherailway，andwhichgivesitsnametotheVale，overwhichithaslookedthesethousandyearsandmore。
*“PaganieditioremIocumpraeoccupaverant。Christianiabinferiorilocoaciemdirigebant。Eratquoqueineodemlocounicaspinosaarbor，brevisadmodumquamnosipsinostrispropriisoculisvidimus。Circaquamergohostilesinterseaciescumingenticlamorehostiliterconveniunt。QuoinlocoalterdeduobusPaganorumregibusetquinquecomitesoccisioccubuerunt，etmultamilliaPaganaepartisineodemloco。
CeciditillicergoBoegscegRex，etSidrocillesenexcomes，etSidrocJuniorcomes，etObsberncomes，“etc——AnnalesRerumGestarumAElfrediMagni，AuctoreAsserio。RecensuitFranciscusWise。Oxford，1722，p。23。
RightdownbelowtheWhiteHorseisacuriousdeepandbroadgullycalled“theManger，“intoonesideofwhichthehillsfallwithaseriesofthemostlovelysweepingcurves，knownas“theGiant’sStairs。“Theyarenotabitlikestairs，butIneversawanythinglikethemanywhereelse，withtheirshortgreenturf，andtenderbluebells，andgossamerandthistle-downgleaminginthesunandthesheep-pathsrunningalongtheirsideslikeruledlines。
TheothersideoftheMangerisformedbytheDragon’sHill，acuriouslittleroundself-confidentfellow，thrownforwardfromtherange，utterlyunlikeeverythingroundhim。Onthishillsomedelivererofmankind——St。George，thecountryfolkusedtotellme——killedadragon。WhetheritwereSt。George，Icannotsay；butsurelyadragonwaskilledthere，foryoumayseethemarksyetwherehisbloodrandown，andmorebytokentheplacewhereitrandownistheeasiestwayupthehillside。
PassingalongtheRidgewaytothewestforaboutamile，wecometoalittleclumpofyoungbeechandfirs，withagrowthofthornandprivetunderwood。Hereyoumayfindnestsofthestrongdownpartridgeandpeewit，buttakecarethatthekeeperisn’tdownuponyou；andinthemiddleofitisanoldcromlech，ahugeflatstoneraisedonsevenoreightothers，andleduptobyapath，withlargesinglestonessetuponeachside。ThisisWaylandSmith’scave，aplaceofclassicfamenow；butasSirWalterhastouchedit，Imayaswellletitalone，andreferyouto“Kenilworth“forthelegend。
Thethick，deepwoodwhichyouseeinthehollow，aboutamileoff，surroundsAshdownPark，builtbyInigoJones。Fourbroadalleysarecutthroughthewoodfromcircumferencetocentre，andeachleadstoonefaceofthehouse。Themysteryofthedownshangsabouthouseandwood，astheystandtherealone，sounlikeallaround，withthegreenslopesstuddedwithgreatstonesjustaboutthispart，stretchingawayonallsides。ItwasawiseLordCraven，Ithink，whopitchedhistentthere。
PassingalongtheRidgewaytotheeast，wesooncometocultivatedland。Thedowns，strictlysocalled，arenomore。
Lincolnshirefarmershavebeenimported，andthelong，freshslopesaresheep-walksnomore，butgrowfamousturnipsandbarley。Oneoftheseimproverslivesoverthereatthe“SevenBarrows“farm，anothermysteryofthegreatdowns。Therearethebarrowsstill，solemnandsilent，likeshipsinthecalmsea，thesepulchresofsomesonsofmen。Butofwhom？ItisthreemilesfromtheWhiteHorse——toofarfortheslainofAshdowntobeburiedthere。Whoshallsaywhatheroesarewaitingthere？ButwemustgetdownintotheValeagain，andsoawaybytheGreatWesternRailwaytotown，fortimeandtheprinter’sdevilpress，anditisaterriblelongandslipperydescent，andashockingbadroad。Atthebottom，however，thereisapleasantpublic；whereatwemustreallytakeamodestquencher，forthedownairisprovocativeofthirst。Sowepullupunderanoldoakwhichstandsbeforethedoor。
“Whatisthenameofyourhill，landlord？“
“BlawingSTWUNHill，sir，tobesure。“
[READER。“Stuym？“
AUTHOR:“Stone，stupid——theBlowingStone。“]
“Andofyourhouse？Ican’tmakeoutthesign。“
“BlawingStwun，sir，“saysthelandlord，pouringouthisoldalefromaTobyPhilpotjug，withamelodiouscrash，intothelong-
neckedglass。
“Whatqueernames！“saywe，sighingattheendofourdraught，andholdingouttheglasstobereplenished。
“Bean’tqueeratall，asIcansee，sir，“saysminehost，handingbackourglass，“seeingasthishereistheBlawingStwun，hisself，“puttinghishandonasquarelumpofstone，somethreefeetandahalfhigh，perforatedwithtwoorthreequeerholes，likepetrifiedantediluvianrat-holes，whichliestherecloseundertheoak，underourverynose。Wearemorethaneverpuzzled，anddrinkoursecondglassofale，wonderingwhatwillcomenext。“Liketohearun，sir？“saysminehost，settingdownTobyPhilpotonthetray，andrestingbothhandsonthe“Stwun。“Wearereadyforanything；andhe，withoutwaitingforareply，applieshismouthtooneoftheratholes。
Somethingmustcomeofit，ifhedoesn’tburst。Goodheavens！
Ihopehehasnoapoplectictendencies。Yes，hereitcomes，sureenough，agruesomesoundbetweenamoanandaroar，andspreadsitselfawayoverthevalley，andupthehillside，andintothewoodsatthebackofthehouse，aghost-like，awfulvoice。“Umdosay，sir，“saysminehost，risingpurple-faced，whilethemoanisstillcomingoutoftheStwun，“astheyusedinoldtimestowarnthecountry-sidebyblawingtheStwunwhentheenemywasa-comin’，andashowfolkscouldmakeunheeredthenforsevenmileround；leastways，soI’veheeredLawyerSmithsay，andheknowsasmartsightaboutthemoldtimes。“WecanhardlyswallowLawyerSmith’ssevenmiles；butcouldtheblowingofthestonehavebeenasummons，asortofsendingthefierycrossroundtheneighbourhoodintheoldtimes？Whatoldtimes？Whoknows？Wepayforourbeer，andarethankful。
“Andwhat’sthenameofthevillagejustbelow，landlord？“
“KingstoneLisle，sir。“
“Fineplantationsyou’vegothere？“
“Yes，sir；theSquire’s’mazingfondoftreesandsuchlike。“
“Nowonder。He’sgotsomerealbeautiestobefondof。Good-
day，landlord。“
“Good-day，sir，andapleasantrideto’ee。“
Andnow，myboys，youwhomIwanttogetforreaders，haveyouhadenough？Willyougiveinatonce，andsayyou’reconvinced，andletmebeginmystory，orwillyouhavemoreofit？
Remember，I’veonlybeenoveralittlebitofthehillsideyet——
whatyoucouldrideroundeasilyonyourponiesinanhour。I’monlyjustcomedownintotheVale，byBlowingStoneHill；andifIoncebeginabouttheVale，what’stostopme？You’llhavetohearallaboutWantage，thebirthplaceofAlfred，andFarringdon，whichheldoutsolongforCharlestheFirsttheValewasnearOxford，anddreadfullymalignant——fullofThrogmortons，Puseys，andPyes，andsuchlike；andtheirbrawnyretainers。DidyoueverreadThomasIngoldsby’s“LegendofHamiltonTighe“？Ifyouhaven’t，yououghttohave。Well，Farringdoniswherehelived，beforehewenttosea；hisrealnamewasHamdenPye，andthePyeswerethegreatfolkatFarringdon。Thenthere’sPusey。You’veheardofthePuseyhorn，whichKingCanutegavetothePuseysofthatday，andwhichthegallantoldsquire，latelygonetohisrestwhomBerkshirefreeholdersturnedoutoflastParliament，totheireternaldisgrace，forvotingaccordingtohisconscience，usedtobringoutonhighdays，holidays，andbonfirenights。AndthesplendidoldcrosschurchatUffington，theUffingastown。