CHAPTER X THE CULT OF THE HORSE

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It is probable that the story of the horse fascinates more diverse groups of students than does that of any other domestic animal. Truly, too, has it been said, though with a touch of cynicism, that association with this creature will draw out all that is knavish in man, just as it will encourage acts of the finest heroism. But whether the cynic or the idealist be right, or each partly right, there can be no denial of the leading place taken by the horse in the history of man’s conquest of Nature or in the decisive battles which have determined the supremacy of nations.

To the expert palaeontologist, who prepares the way for the patient workers in zoology and folk-lore, the descent of the horse is attractive because it illustrates, with great beauty and precision, the modern doctrine of development. From an examination of many collections of bones, derived both from the Old and the New Worlds, Huxley and Marsh constructed a general pedigree, of which the details, as discoveries have gradually accumulated, have been filled in by such workers as Sir E. Ray Lankester, Dr C. W. Andrews, Mr R. Lydekker, and Professor J. Cossar Ewart, in Britain, and, in the United States, by Professor R. S. Lull. We begin, far back in the lowest Eocene division of the Tertiary period, with a small hypothetical, or at least unidentified, plantigrade creature, perhaps no larger than a rabbit, with five digits on each of its fore and hind limbs. It would be difficult to produce a specimen of the exact ancestral animal which would satisfy all investigators, but its former existence is doubted by few[1085]. Still keeping to the Eocene formation, though mounting to a higher horizon—the London Clay—we come to Hyracotherium, which was an animal about the size of a hare or very small fox, and which fed on the soft, green vegetation around the margins of lakes and rivers[1086]. Hyracotherium (Fig. 80) had four toes on its fore feet[1087], with vestiges, or “rudiments,” as they are unfortunately called, of a fifth. In Palaeotherium of the Upper Eocene, there are three toes only, but these are nearly equal in size[1088]. (It may be well to recall the geological systems of the Tertiary period: they are, in ascending order, Eocene, Oligocene, Miocene, Pliocene.) In the Oligocene genus Mesohippus, of which the members were perhaps as large as a sheep, there is still a suggestion of a fourth toe in the fore foot[1089], but the two side toes which are actually discernible do not themselves quite touch the ground. In Hipparion of the Miocene and Pliocene formations, the lateral toes, each terminated by hoofs, were still shorter; and the earlier Anchitherium was in much the same plight. Both the last-named animals are now deemed to be off the direct ancestral line of our present-day horses[1090], but they may stand as early types. Indeed it is difficult to formulate a genealogy which is everywhere accepted. Chiefly owing to the migrations which must have occurred, no complete family tree can be prepared, and all attempts, while true as a whole, are only approximately correct as regards the detailed relationships. The general direction being clear, onward we go, passing creatures as large as a donkey, still preserving vestiges of the lateral toes, till at last we reach the horses of history. The horse which we know

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Fig. 80. The ancestors of the horse and its relatives: comparison of sizes and forms.

a. Hyracotherium (Lower Eocene deposits).
b. Plagiolophus (Middle Eocene).
c. Mesohippus (Oligocene).
d. Merychippus (Miocene).
e. Pliohippus (Pliocene).
f. Typical modern domesticated horse (Equus caballus).

From the Amer. Jour. Science, XXIII. p. 167; by the courtesy of Professor R. S. Lull.

has but one central, solid-nailed or hoofed toe, but it retains, hidden beneath the skin, traces of two side toes in the form of the “splint bones,” as they are called by the anatomist and the veterinary surgeon.

Thus we see that the primitive creature, which throve on the lowlands and in the damp forests, was succeeded by representatives which had lost the divided hoof. We infer that a change of habitat had occurred: the cloven, spreading foot was no longer necessary. Accompanying this modification, great structural changes were developed in the teeth, suggesting that the animal had begun to feed on harder, drier herbage. There are other “decadent remnants” visible in the modern horse, such as the callosities, or “chestnuts,” of the limbs, which are believed to have once been functional, possibly as scent-glands[1091]. Viewed as a whole, the developed genus Equus is larger, swifter, and stronger than its ancestors, and it is proportionately more supple and graceful.

The story just outlined is not a whispering vision vouchsafed to a few favoured palaeontologists. Behind the theory there is reality, as may easily be proved by a study of authoritative works[1092], or by an examination of the specimens in the Natural History Museum at South Kensington.

Our first intimation of human contact with the horse is furnished by the Solutrean and Magdalenian caves and rock-shelters of France. Representations of the animal, both on the flat and the round, are not uncommonly found associated with remains of the latter period. The cavern of Bruniquel, Tarn-et-Garonne (Magdalenian period), yielded sculptures of horses’ heads, representing carved objects which were probably portions of javelin-throwers. A fragment of a horse’s rib from the same site was engraved with three horses’ heads[1093]. From the cave-shelter of La Madelaine, Dordogne, there was obtained a bone incised with the figure of a naked man, on each side of which was a horse’s head[1094]. Other French examples might be given (Fig. 81 A). Only one English specimen is on record—a polished fragment of a rib, engraved with the head of a horse, found at Robin Hood’s Cave, Cresswell Crags, Derbyshire[1095] (Fig. 81 B).

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Fig. 81.

A. Drawing of a horse, by a cave-man. Dordogne, France. (British Museum.) The large head and the upright mane are especially noticeable.

B. Horse’s head, incised on a piece of bone; Limestone cave, Cresswell Crags, Derbyshire. (British Museum.)

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Fig. 82. Prejevalski’s (or the Mongolian) wild horse (Equus prejevalskii). This animal has a large head, a short upright mane, and relatively long ears. The body colour is yellow dun, merging into rufus brown. A narrow dark stripe runs down the back. The illustration may be compared with the cave-man’s drawing (Fig. 81 A).

From a casual inspection of these early and priceless works of art, we might conclude that the horse known to Palaeolithic man was of a stunted breed, small and heavy, with a large head, rounded forehead, short neck, and an upright or “hog mane.” But this generalization would be lacking in precision. Professor Ewart has discriminated three types. The first type includes horses the features of which closely agree with those of the wild species (Equus prejevalskii) recently discovered in the Great Gobi Desert. (There is a wide diversity of usage in spelling the scientific name of this animal, as also the name of its Russian discoverer.) This horse, a specimen of which is to be seen in the Zoological Gardens, London (Fig. 82), resembles pre-eminently the Cave horse just described. The second type embraces animals which resemble the broad-browed ponies often met with in the Western Highlands of Scotland, while the third type suggests the slender-limbed, narrow-headed ponies of Western and North-Western Europe[1096].

Whether Palaeolithic man, even during the latest Cave Period, had begun to tame the horse, is a question which has been keenly debated. Bones found by M. É. Piette in the celebrated cave of Mas d’Azil, on the left bank of the AriÈge, in Southern France, were incised with drawings of horses’ heads. In one example there was a delineation of what are supposed to be halters, and in another, of some kind of trappings[1097]. I believe that the nature of these ornaments is not widely disputed, so that the controversy turns upon their exact signification. The trappings have, indeed, been thought to represent a hunter’s fur cloak, carelessly thrown over a subjugated horse; and again, with slightly more reason, it is urged that the “saddle” is imaginary, the lines being merely a conventional finish to the drawing, comparable to the marks on early pottery. Again, the use of anything of the nature of a saddle could scarcely appertain to the earliest stages of domestication. M. Zaborowski has conjectured that the supposed halters are really lassoes, and it has therefore been inferred that horses were kept semi-domesticated in a kind of compound, for purposes of food[1098]. We may notice, as bearing on this contention, the description given by Herodotus respecting the Sagarthians, an ancient people allied to the Persians in speech and in dress. The Sagarthians were in the habit of capturing their foe—“be it man, or be it horse”—by the aid of lassoes terminating in nooses[1099]. Canon Rawlinson tells us that this practice was common to many of the ancient nations of Western Asia[1100]. As to the horse of the Cave Period, MM. Carl Vogt, Émile Cartailhac, and G. de Mortillet, consider that its domestication would be possible only by the help of the dog, the first animal to be tamed; and since remains of the dog are lacking at Palaeolithic stations, a presumably fatal objection is lodged[1101]. This view is not, however, uniformly accepted. M. Julien Fraipont, for instance, grants that the drawings show that man had tamed the animals represented, but denies that this implies domestication. The creatures were probably captured young[1102]. But is not this tantamount to an admission that the first step towards domestication had been taken?

Early man, as a modern humorist has remarked, would indeed at first take to his heels to avoid the heels of the early horse. But this fear did not last for ever. Palaeolithic man both hunted the animal and ate its flesh. At the rock-shelter of SolutrÉ, SaÔne-et-Loire, there was discovered, around the primitive hearths, a veritable wall of horse bones, the relics of thousands of animals[1103]. At La Laugerie, horses’ teeth abounded[1104]. At the rock-shelter of Cro-Magnon remains of the horse were predominant. It has been urged that these remains were not those of wild animals. Professor N. Joly supposes that the horse would be sheltered, and gradually brought to a less precarious condition of life. He also cites M. Toussaint, who boldly claims that the horse bones of SolutrÉ are those of domesticated animals. Allowing for minor differences, it is submitted that the bones are quite similar to those of modern horses. The quantity of bones and the age of the horses which they represent—four, five, or six years—are deemed to indicate a domestic herd. The remains are assembled in one place, and it is therefore assumed that the horses were boiled, cut up, and eaten at that spot, just as would be the case with domesticated animals. Had the horses been hunted in a wild state, they would have been carried piecemeal from a distance, as is the case with the earliest caves of the archaeolithic age[1105]. These arguments are by no means without a flaw, but they carry some weight. And English opinion, so far as can be gathered, is rather in favour of the theory that the Palaeolithic cave-men had made tentative efforts in taming the horse. Our English authorities seem to lay more stress on the Mas d’Azil trappings than do their French brethren[1106].

When we come to the Neolithic Age, we find an anomaly; the horse seems to be a much rarer animal than in the preceding period. Yet horses of a type closely resembling those of the Palaeolithic Age were probably domesticated in several parts of Europe[1107]. Skulls obtained from Pleistocene deposits at Walthamstow, Essex, seem, on the one hand, to indicate a race allied to, if not identical with, the Solutrean cave-horse of the Mongolian type (E. prejevalskii)[1108]. Horse remains, however, from later superficial deposits, associated with Neolithic relics only, appear to be rare. Though found amid the ruins of Neolithic lake-dwellings in Switzerland, bones of the horse cannot be declared abundant, even at those stations. The British evidence is so unsatisfactory that some writers, like Lord Avebury, have doubted whether the horse was known in Britain during the Neolithic Age. Lord Avebury states that he knows of no well-authenticated instance of the occurrence of the horse in a long barrow. After analysing the records of excavations made by Greenwell and Bateman, he concludes that the horse bones tabulated by these investigators belong to the Bronze Age, or even to a later period[1109]. Again, Professor Ridgeway, after asserting that it is by no means clear that Neolithic man had tamed the horse, conjectures that the primeval horses had become extinct, and had been replaced by a re-introduced species only at the end of the Bronze, or the beginning of the Iron Age[1110].

Against these conclusions may be set the opinion of Canon Greenwell: “I cannot understand how any one with the evidence properly before him can doubt that the goat, sheep, horse, and dog were, in the earliest Neolithic times, imported as domesticated animals into this country and into Switzerland[1111]”—a notable statement. Since it is the horse alone with which we are now dealing, I select some of Canon Greenwell’s examples of barrows which yielded bones of that animal. In a round barrow of the East Riding, two pelvic bones were found associated with implements of flint and greenstone[1112]. Another round barrow contained the remains of three horses, accompanied, however, by a bronze dagger as well as pottery[1113]. The famous Rudstone barrow, in which horse teeth were discovered, furnished large quantities of implements, all of stone[1114]. With these typical cases, the reader may compare those described by Mr J. R. Mortimer, whose researches were also made in Yorkshire[1115]. If it be objected that round barrows are not Neolithic, it must be remembered that the Yorkshire round barrows form a special class. They enclose human remains which do not belong to one race only, and many of them are now assigned to the Transition period which is known as the Aeneolithic (i.e. Bronze-Stone Age)[1116]. When stone implements alone are found in the barrows, the early, or, at least, transitional character of such mounds is emphasized.

There is other evidence available. Professor Boyd Dawkins has recorded the discovery of remains of the horse (Equus caballus) from five British bone caves, and from one refuse heap in North Wales, all the stations being considered as belonging to the Neolithic period[1117]. Mr W. J. Knowles, in a letter to the writer, dated February 10, 1909, states that he has frequently found teeth and bones of the horse at the Whitepark Bay site, co. Antrim; the associated implements found there are classed as early Neolithic or Mesolithic. Although Mr Knowles has not himself found the relics in the “old floor,” he believes that they were derived from that level; moreover, the Rev. G. R. Buick has actually obtained similar remains from this undisturbed “black layer.” Again, Mr Wintour F. Gwinnell informs me that he has in his possession horse teeth, which there is every reason to believe were found in association with a flint celt, also in his possession. The implement and the teeth were dug up at Wiggonholt, in Sussex. Dr A. Irving, again, describing to the British Association (1910) horse remains found at Bishops Stortford, claimed that the relics were those of a late Pleistocene type of animal, and further that this type persisted down to the Early Iron Age. Since the associated objects included some which belonged to the Bronze and Early Iron, as well as the Neolithic, periods, the age of this particular deposit could not, unfortunately, be settled beyond dispute. Some have even thought the remains modern[1118].

There is thus a measure of reasonableness in the belief that “the horse has been here all the time,” as a witty naturalist once expressed it. It is also not improbable that Neolithic man of Britain had tamed the animal, and that, partly in consequence, it had become less familiar to the primitive butcher. That the horse was eaten by man during the Bronze Age seems proven. The bones and teeth found in grave-mounds of the period appear to be the relics of funeral feasts. Mr J. R. Mortimer, who has excavated large numbers of barrows of the Aeneolithic and Bronze Ages, deems it certain that the horse was eaten at the burial banquet. He relies for proof mainly on the fact that the bones were always found detached, and often broken[1119].

From a study of classical references to the horse, and from a comparison of survivals existing among primitive peoples, one is led to infer that the horse was first domesticated, not for riding, but for yoking to carts and chariots. By some writers it is conjectured that there was even an earlier stage, when Turko-Tartaric tribes impounded the horse and reared it for the sake of its milk and flesh. In corroboration of this hypothesis, Professor Ridgeway and Dr O. Schrader refer to the modern Kalmucks and Tartars, who retain a rooted preference for mares’ milk, a legacy from the days when this liquid was used for daily nutrition[1120]. Among other races, and in other climes, the ox may have had a parallel history. But from this debateable ground we move to matters better attested. Riding a horse (?e??t??e??) was such a rare and curious exhibition in ancient Greece, that but a single casual instance is recorded in the writings of Homer. Equestrian exercise was “the half-foreign accomplishment of the Kentauroi[1121].” It has, indeed, been suggested that the fable concerning the Thessalian Centaurs, who were half-man and half-horse, originated in accounts of the earliest feats of horsemanship. At Marathon (B.C. 490), the Persians, but not the Greeks, used cavalry. The story of the horse in Greece seems to have been repeated in Ireland, as shown by the poetical literature of the latter country. Professor Ridgeway states that, in the earliest Irish epics, the warriors all fight from chariots—there are no riders on horseback. In the later cycle—that of Finn and Ossian (A.D. 150-300), horses are little used, and, when mentioned at all, they are ridden.

Herodotus tells us of tribes who lived North of the Danube and who possessed horses of a peculiar kind. The description is somewhat precise. The horses were small and flat-nosed (or “short-faced”) and were incapable of carrying men (s?????? d? ?a? s???? ?a? ?d???t??? ??d??? f??e??). The animals were covered entirely with a coat of shaggy hair, five fingers in length—about 3½ inches. (?p? p??te da?t????? t? ????—“to the depth of five fingers.”) Though not strong enough to bear men, the horses, when yoked to chariots, were among the swiftest known[1122]. While some writers have seen in this passage an allusion to creatures of the type of the Shetland pony, Professor Ridgeway has remarked that the description agrees well with the skeletons of horses found near MÂcon (SaÔne-et-Loire), especially in respect to the short, ugly-shaped skulls[1123].

The Hebrew Scriptures contain numerous references to the horse, in connection with both riding and charioteering. Yet it is noteworthy that no mention is made of the animal at all until after the return of the Israelites from Egypt. Earlier enumerations of patriarchal wealth speak of sheep, oxen, camels, and asses, but not of horses. The first mention of the horse on Egyptian monuments appears during the 18th Dynasty (c. B.C. 1520)[1124]. After the Egyptian Captivity, Scriptural allusions begin to grow common. No lover of literary form will forget Job’s magnificent description of a war-horse, whose neck is clothed with thunder, and the glory of whose nostrils is terrible[1125]. It is well, too, to remember, as an historical event, the establishment, by David, of a force of cavalry and charioteers after his crushing defeat of Hadadezer[1126].

The deplorable deficiency of pictorial art in the Neolithic and Bronze periods deprives us of the means of fully checking the sequence of the stages in horse-taming in Europe. The rock-carvings, however, of Norway and Sweden, which date from the Bronze Age, show that the horse was used for riding and driving[1127]. That this age was preceded, in Scandinavia or Central Europe, by an era when the horse was employed for traction and transport only, is very probable. Swiss lake-dwellings of the Bronze Age seem to indicate an overlapping of the stages. The discovery, on these sites, of numerous horse-bits and wooden wheels would suggest that the villagers both rode horses and drove waggons or chariots[1128].

An incidental matter is of some little interest. How did the very earliest horsemen—who, by the way, would ride barebacked—mount their steeds? Stirrups, and perhaps even bridles, were, at the beginning of the experiments, unknown. Four modes have been suggested as possible: vaulting, vaulting with the help of a pole or spear, making the horse crouch, and lastly, as in the old Persian fashion, stepping from a slave’s back[1129].

That the Britons of Caesar’s day were expert equestrians and charioteers, is sufficiently clear from the Commentaries[1130]. The great general describes, with manifest admiration, the manner in which the Britons, suddenly quitting their chariots, charged the Romans in an unequal contest on foot (ex essedis desilirent et pedibus dispari proelio contenderent)[1131]. More startling still was the amazing trick, exhibited by the drivers of chariots, of running along the pole, or standing upon the yoke, while the chariot was going at full speed.

While the Celts of Britain were pre-eminently noted for their fighting by a combination of infantry and cavalry, some of the more Easterly Aryan races were unaccustomed to the latter mode of warfare. Dr Schrader, whose authority has already been invoked on the question of the use of mare’s milk by tribes living on the Asiatic steppes, brings out the contrast by a reference to the European Celts. These Celts built waggons and chariots, and it seems probable, from a study of the Latin vocabulary, that the Romans were dependent on the vanquished for the manufacture of such objects. Dr Schrader cites, among other words, reda, a mail-coach, and carrus, a waggon, which are derived from Celtic sources[1132]. To Dr Schrader’s list may be added Caesar’s word for chariot, essedum, and its synonym, employed by Tacitus, covinus[1133].

Since it is not intended to trace here fully the story of the horse in historic times, a short digression may be allowed in order to notice one or two important details. That the Saxons practised horsemanship to some extent is proved by Bede’s allusion to a party of young men trying the speed of their horses on an open piece of ground[1134]. Much earlier, in the reign of Alexander Severus, about A.D. 222, there is an authentic record of horse-races, but these were probably held under Roman patronage. Like records are known, referring to races at the Roman stations of Netherby, Caerleon, Silchester, and Dorchester[1135]. King Athelstan paid some attention to the breeding of horses, and imported animals from Spain to improve the species[1136]. William of Malmesbury describes a present sent to this monarch by Hugh the Great, Count of Paris. A portion of the gift consisted of racehorses (equos cursores), with their rich trappings (cum phaleris)[1137]. Again, William Fitzstephen, writing in the twelfth century, supplies us with a spirited and detailed account of an English horse-race[1138]. During the reigns of John and Edward III. horse-breeding received further encouragement; the latter king forbade the exportation of English horses. Henry VIII. made various enactments with a like general purpose, but stress was especially laid on the deterioration of breed due to promiscuous crossing of strains. The pasturing of entire horses on the common lands was therefore forbidden[1139]. Gradually the English cart-horse began to be developed—to some extent, perhaps, from sires and dams of the old war-horse type. By the time of Charles II., James II., and William of Orange, marked changes became apparent[1140]. But there is no space at present to pursue the subject. Else we might refer to the evolution of the modern racehorse, and the rise of the bewildering breeds which one sees to-day. In the next chapter, however, it will be shown by what means the horse came to supplant the ox for work in the fields and on the high roads.

A subsidiary matter must be lightly touched. Were the horses of classical times provided with shoes? Much contradictory evidence has been put forward in reply, and the case seems to depend upon the periodical swing of ancient opinion and practice, neither of which moved uniformly. At times, shoeing was entirely deprecated. Yet the feet of Roman horses of the first century B.C. were often clad with coverings of reeds or hemp (soleae sparteae), or, more rarely, with leather[1141]. These coverings constituted a sort of sandal, and it has been supposed that their use was temporary, as is the case to-day with the leather slippers worn by horses when drawing a mowing machine across a lawn. Thin soles or shoes of iron were also used, being fixed, according to Mr Basil Tozer, to the leather cap just described[1142]. Whether this were the actual mode of attachment or not, we find Nero, in the first century A.D., shoeing his mules with “soleae” of silver, instead of iron, while his wife Poppaea, with the arrogance of wealth, used plates of gold for a similar purpose[1143]. Professor Ridgeway supposes that the next advance from the sole of metal would be to cut a piece out of the middle, thus economizing material, and giving the horse a firmer grip[1144]. This lies in the realm of conjecture, but of more direct importance is Professor Ridgeway’s opinion that there is no reason to doubt the Roman date of certain horseshoes found in France, seeing that the associated objects pointed to that period[1145]. Horseshoes of supposed Roman date are exhibited in various museums. Four specimens are to be seen in the Guildhall Museum, London; one is sketched in Fig. 83 E.

Richard Berenger (A.D. 1771), in his History and Art of Horsemanship, states that a horseshoe was found in the tomb of Childeric I. of France[1146] (d. A.D. 481). Berenger gives an illustration of the shoe, copied from De Montfaucon; it has four nail-holes on each side, and looks remarkably like the modern article. Mr Tozer asserts that iron shoes came into regular use in the first half of the sixth century (A.D.). Yet General Pitt-Rivers describes and figures horseshoes (Fig. 83 A, 83 B) which were found in the Romano-British settlements of Woodyates and Woodcuts, in Cranborne Chase. He records other specimens, and asserts that the people of that period shod their horses with iron[1147]. Professor Ridgeway, while believing it improbable that the Angles brought with them any particular shape of horseshoe[1148], reproduces from the Proceedings of the Cambridge Antiquarian Society Professor T. McKenny Hughes’s

Fig. 83. A, B. Portions of small horseshoes, much corroded, found by Pitt-Rivers in Cranborne Chase. The worn fragment, B, exhibits three holes, with T-shaped nails. There is a calkin at k, formed by turning up the lower surface of the shoe. C. Ancient horseshoe found by Mr E. C. Youens, at Edenbridge, Kent. The shoe, which is formed of wrought iron, is markedly concavo-convex, the convex surface being the lower one. The “wale-holes” are very near the edge. There is no raised rim. D. Side view of the same shoe. E. Small horseshoe, Guildhall Museum, London. Roman layer, City. The curve is sinuous, the holes are elliptical, and the calkins are well formed.

drawings of seven Old English shoes, two of which, the circular and the split types, would appear to be rather primitive.

We need not linger over the allusion to horseshoes in Domesday Book. The reference to the blacksmiths of Hereford, who were liable to be called upon to make horseshoes for the king at a fixed rate, is well known to most students.

The circular horseshoe, which has just been mentioned, and which is occasionally dug up in the Fens, is still commonly employed in Northumberland. Through the kindness of the Rev. Hastings M. Neville, of Ford, Cornhill-on-Tweed, I am enabled to give illustrations of this form of shoe (Figs. 84, 85). The shoe, which has been somewhat abraded by wear, is markedly convex on the lower surface, and correspondingly concave where it is fitted to the hoof. In this respect it resembles the broad shoe (Fig. 83 C, D) of the ordinary outline, discovered in making a main drainage trench at Edenbridge, Kent. This latter specimen is now in the possession of Mr C. E. Youens, of Dartford, through whose courtesy a sketch has been obtained. As in the Northumbrian example, the “wale-holes” are very near the margin; but while the iron of the former shoe is carried completely round to give support behind, the Edenbridge specimen does not even possess calkins—that is, portions projecting downward at the “heel.” The Edenbridge shoe appears to be Mediaeval, but it may perhaps be Saxon, or even of earlier date. The specimen should be compared with the Mediaeval examples in the Guildhall Museum.

The circular form of shoe, according to Mr James Weatherston, the blacksmith at Duddo, near Norham, Northumberland, is advantageous to a horse which has a weak “toe” or heel. This shape has been used from time immemorial. Sometimes a leather sole, covering the whole foot, is placed between the hoof and the circular shoe. Again, a detachable iron plate, or “complete shoe,” is occasionally screwed on to the outside surface of the round one, so that, by removing the plate, the horse’s foot can be examined without interfering with the shoe. In this case, the leather sole is omitted. The screws or “cogs” are square-headed, and project to such a degree that the animal walks on them alone.

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Fig. 84. Round horseshoe, lower convex
surface, from Ford, Northumberland.
Greatest breadth 6½ inches.

Fig. 85. Round horseshoe, upper concave
surface. Scale of inches shown.

The purpose of the convexity of the round shoe is to break the shock as the horse’s foot strikes the ground. The efficacy of this shoe is specially noticeable with “foundered” horses—those which have inflamed feet. An animal, thus suffering, tends to tread more on the heel than the toe, and the convexity allows a better grip to be obtained. Indeed, the ordinary form of shoe is sometimes slightly bent for the same reason. The Northumberland practice, with regard to “soles” and round shoes, while now based on expert veterinary principles, seems to represent a primitive plan. It is noteworthy that the round form of shoe is especially prized as a bringer of luck. Obviously, it is the material of the shoe—witch-hated iron—which is there considered important; all folk-memory respecting the virtues of the crescentic shape has perished. Youatt describes a shoe, under the name of the “bar-shoe,” which appears roughly to correspond to the Northumberland type[1149]. The observant person will occasionally see a London dray horse wearing a somewhat similar kind of shoe, the difference being in the hinder portion, which is either straight or slightly re-entering. This peculiar mode of shoeing, in all cases, seems to be due to the advice of the veterinary surgeon. It will be well, for anyone who wishes to pursue the subject, to read the opinions of the authorities already given (pp. 423 n., 424 n.).

A slight digression may here be made to consider a kindred topic. Iron objects of peculiar shape, commonly called hippo-sandals, have been discovered in various places, notably by Pitt-Rivers, in the Romano-British settlements in Cranborne Chase. Some authorities have thought that the hippo-sandal represents a kind of horseshoe, but Pitt-Rivers agrees with Fleming in scouting this theory. The shape, he considers, would be inconvenient for this purpose. Moreover, horseshoes, and—so it is believed—ox-shoes, are represented among the relics of the settlements, so that another type of shoe, he argues, would scarcely be found at the same spot. This objection is, as Mr C. Roach Smith has hinted, not conclusive against the use of hippo-sandals for special occasions. The suggestion was made by Pitt-Rivers that the hippo-sandals were intended for shoeing the poles of sledges, and he figures a form of that vehicle in which the shaft skids along the ground. In a footnote, however, he betrays some uncertainty, and admits that specimens of hippo-sandals which are displayed in the Museum at Mayence must have been fitted to the feet of horses, probably as splints when the hoofs had been accidently broken. The hippo-sandals, in those cases, would doubtless be attached by cords or straps which passed through the iron rings. Mr Roach Smith, writing in 1859, stated that iron pattens, fastened to the hoof by means of leather straps, were still used in Holland. This fact supplies, doubtless, the key to the puzzle. The hippo-sandal shown in the illustration (Fig. 86) was discovered, along with many other relics, at the Roman villa at Darenth, in Kent, and was first figured by Mr George Payne, in Archaeologia Cantiana. About half a dozen specimens are on view in the Guildhall Museum[1150]. In connection with this subject it may be noted that Youatt, in his book on The Horse, describes and illustrates a light kind of open-work sandal for horses with delicate hoofs, made of strap-work and iron clips.

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Fig. 86. Hippo-sandal, found on the site of a Roman villa, at Darenth, Kent, and now in the Rochester Museum.

A slight retrospect of the shoeing question will be made when we deal with oxen, but we must now return to the British horsemen of the Early Iron Age. At that period, so engrossing was the craft of the chariot-warrior, that care was often taken to provide the dead chieftain with the means of renewing his pastime elsewhere. Thus it was not unusual to inter a horse, or chariot, or both of these, in the burial mound. Keysler quotes numerous instances of the custom, chiefly with respect to the ancient Scythian and Scandinavian peoples[1151]. Records also implicate Tartars, Franks, Wends, and Finns as agents in like ceremonies. A well-known passage in Virgil seems to show that the practice obtained in classical times. Aeneas, on his descent into the lower regions, views with wonder the empty chariots of the chiefs, and the horses feeding at large on the plain. The heroes retained their old fondness for chariots and shining steeds[1152], and these necessaries had evidently been deposited in the earth at the time of the funeral.

The English records of chariot-burial are fairly numerous. The Rev. E. W. Stillingfleet (c. A.D. 1816), and Canon W. Greenwell (A.D. 1876), excavated several round barrows at a farm called Arras, near Market Weighton, in Yorkshire, and discovered therein remains of horses, chariots, and harness. Associated with these mute memorials, there was found, in one instance, a boar’s tusk, which had been invested with some ceremonial value, since it was perforated with a square hole, and was mounted in a brazen case. Interments of this class belong usually to the Late-Celtic period. A small urn, of unspecified age, dug up near Eastbourne in 1778, contained about a dozen horse’s teeth. Mr J. Romilly Allen compiled a considerable list of instances of chariot-burial. Many others are given in the Guide to the Early Iron Age (British Museum), as well as in the writings of Messrs L. Jewitt and J. R. Mortimer. So recently as 1906, a chariot-burial was discovered at Hunmanby, in Yorkshire, and was described by Canon Green well in Archaeologia[1153]. The “trappings” found in connection with the other remains comprised bridle-bits, buckles, head-ornaments, and similar articles.

One of the Wold barrows, which was opened by Canon Greenwell, contained a whole chariot and the bones of two horses, placed alongside a human skeleton. In another mound the wheels alone had been buried[1154]. A third grave yielded wheels and an iron bit[1155]. Similar discoveries were made at Nanterre, in France; horses were found entombed with portions of their trappings, together with tires of wheels, and various bronze and iron objects, evidently betokening a Transitional period[1156]. In all the foregoing cases we must suppose that the horse was sacrificed at its master’s funeral—the coincidence of natural or of violent death must have been exceedingly uncommon save in warfare. The custom of chariot-burial persisted for centuries into the Christian era, and an assemblage of relics, kindred to those mentioned, is common in Scandinavian graves of the Viking Age (A.D. 700-1000), wherein unburnt bodies were interred[1157]. Again, an Anglo-Saxon grave at Reading was shown to contain the skeleton of a horse, human bones, and a sword remarkably rich in its ornament[1158]. At a still later date, A.D. 1389, when Bertrand Duguesclin was buried at St Denis, several horses, which had been previously blessed by the Bishop of Auxerre, were sacrificed, or, as one account says, compounded for by the owners.

Were we ignorant of the foregoing facts, certain modern practices of an analogous nature would have to be dismissed as inexplicable. Once acquainted with the ancient instances, however, the student can account for the atavism which here and there betrays itself. We cannot, of course, in the absence of overlapping evidence, be certain that the burial of the horse along with its master is a custom which has never died out. There may have been a continuous bond of tradition, or again, folk-memory may have lain almost dormant for centuries, to be unconsciously revived at a later time. A few instances will now be rapidly surveyed.

A surgeon, one Mr Thomas Sheffield, dying in 1798, at Downton, in Wiltshire, left instructions that he should be interred in his garden, and that, when his favourite horse should die, it was to be laid by his side. Mr Sheffield was buried as he desired, but in 1807 his body was removed to the village churchyard[1159]. We are left to infer that the horse was placed in its master’s grave, as was undoubtedly done in the case, quoted by Southey, in which a man of Salisbury, “in derision of religion,” commanded that his horse should be slaughtered and buried with him[1160]. Again, so recently as 1866, when Queen Victoria’s huntsman died, his favourite horse was shot, and its ears were placed in his coffin and buried in his grave in Sunninghill churchyard, Berkshire[1161]. Parenthetically, we notice that, in Patagonia, the horse of a deceased person is still killed at the grave[1162]. Such incidents as these do not seem to be far removed in time from the days of barrow burial. Not quite so apposite is the case of Wellington’s horse, Copenhagen, which was buried (A.D. 1836) with full military honours at Strathfieldsaye (Hampshire), and which was commemorated by a tombstone bearing an appropriate inscription and epitaph. In thus honouring his charger, however, the Duke had a prototype in the Emperor Augustus, who, as Pliny relates, erected a tomb to his horse, on which occasion Germanicus Caesar wrote a poem[1163]. Turn the facts which way we will, they seem to tell of an ingrained instinct which unexpectedly reveals itself to the surprise of the majority of folk—surprise, nevertheless, which speedily becomes tinged with sympathy.

Not so distinctly a reversion, but still probably a custom derived from primitive observances, was the Mediaeval ceremony, when a great person was buried, of leading his horse before the body and presenting the animal to the ecclesiastical authorities as an obituary due[1164]. Such legacies were very common, so that a single example will suffice. At the obsequies of Henry V., three war-steeds were led to the altar, and were there formally bequeathed to the Church[1165]. It will be fresh in the memory of all, how, at the funeral of King Edward VII., that monarch’s favourite horse was led by a groom behind the body of his late master.

In considering how far these lingering customs may represent real survivals, it will be of some assistance to collect examples showing to what extent the horse cult was observed in the ceremonial routine of the ancient Celts and Teutons. In the first place, we are struck by the respect which was paid to white horses in particular. Tacitus, in a familiar passage, asserts that the German tribes kept milk-white horses in consecrated woods and groves[1166]. From these horses, which were never degraded by being put to any kind of labour, warnings and auguries were received by the priestly caste. Grimm tells us that there existed, at Drontheim, temples in which sacred horses were kept and fed[1167]. Other peoples have betrayed a similar affection for the white horse. Such animals, Virgil relates, are not usually put to work, since they are beloved of the gods; it is criminal to kill or wound them, except for sacrifice. Herodotus describes how the sacred white horses of the Persians were drowned when Cyrus was endeavouring to cross the river Gyndes[1168]. The same writer states that, in his day, Russia teemed with white horses[1169]. White was pre-eminently the noble colour. In the Apocalypse, a white horse is symbolical of victory and triumph[1170]. This idea is also common among classical writers[1171]. The figure of a white horse appeared on the Standard of the Saxons, and later, in the arms of Saxony and the House of Brunswick. In our day, a white horse constitutes the Kentish emblem, and is popular as a tavern sign. The celebrated “White Horse” carved on the Chalk downs near Uffington, Berkshire, and its fellow, incised on Bratton Hill, near Westbury, Wiltshire, though usually believed to commemorate victories over the Danes, are more probably to be referred to the Late Bronze, or Early Iron Age. In each case, the neighbouring country abounds with prehistoric remains—earthworks, barrows, and trackways[1172]. Certain details of the carvings, such as the bird-like head of the Uffington Horse, and the crescentic tail of the original, but now destroyed, “Horse” of Bratton, have been compared with corresponding features on early British coins[1173]. These coins were probably debased representations of the gold stater of Philip II. of Macedon. In modern times, other intaglios have been cut on our hillsides; these, while reviving the practice, have introduced breeds of horses unknown to the Britons. This seems a fitting place to observe that we have some indication of horse figures in Late-Celtic ornament. On a Late-Celtic bucket (c. first century B.C.) unearthed near Marlborough, in 1807, and enclosing burnt human bones, curious representations of the horse were carved[1174]. Belonging to about the same period are the queer horse-like figures depicted on a bronze-mounted wooden bucket, coming from the Late-Celtic cemetery of Aylesford, Kent[1175]. And, to conclude this section of our subject, we will note that the Anglo-Saxon tumulus in Taplow churchyard, Bucks. (cf. p. 81 supra), yielded portions of a bucket decorated with horseshoe symbols[1176]. We find representations of supposed horses appearing later on church fonts; the celebrated eleventh-century font of Burnsall, in Wharfedale, will serve as an example[1177].

Our discussion of the white horse has carried us far afield, and may have momentarily masked the general question. Not white horses alone were used in sacrifice and divination. The sacrifice of any horse was a most solemn event, attended with much ceremony, alike among Persians and Indians, among Teutons, Finns and Slavs[1178]. In auguries, too, the animal bore an honoured part. The Greeks, Strabo informs us, deemed the neighing of a horse an omen of good[1179]. In Germany, divinations by means of the horse lasted till the seventh century, for, when St Gall died,

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Fig. 87. Capturing the White Horse. In this scene the artist depicts an imaginary incident in connection with the legend of the “White Horse of Kent.” The animal, which is of a rather idealized strain, has broken the cords of the captors, and remains “Invictus.”

unbroken horses were charged with the burden of his coffin, and to their decision was entrusted the choice of a burial-place[1180]. In Denmark, horse-sacrifices lingered until the early part of the eleventh century; a specific instance is given by Keysler, on the authority of the historian Dithmar, who was the Bishop of Mersburg, or Merseburg, and who died A.D. 1028. Dithmar relates that the Danes were wont to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany by sacrificing ninety human victims, together with an equal number of dogs and cocks, in order to appease the infernal deities[1181]. The custom indicates a not infrequent kind of early compromise. Kemble states that, although bulls are known to have been used for divination in England, he knows of no allusion to augury by means of horses[1182]. A few faint traces, however, suggestive of the horse cult, may be detected. There is, for example, that curious story, told by Bede, how the priest Coifi rode on a stallion when he went to destroy the images in the heathen temple at Godmundingham (now Goodmanham) in Yorkshire[1183] (cf. p. 32 supra). As Bede’s narrative runs its length, we learn that a high priest among the pagan Saxons might lawfully ride only on a mare[1184], and one is inclined to speculate whether any of the idols took the form of this animal. We know that the stallion was the most honoured among horses[1185], and it is expressly stated that, when Coifi borrowed the king’s stallion, he did so in contempt of his former superstitions. The change of steed, at any rate, coincided with an onslaught upon established custom, and we shall see later that the priestly rule about riding mares only was abandoned. Another vestige of the horse cult was the belief, common among Teutonic peoples, that the last wisp of corn in the harvest field was inhabited by the sacred horse. For this reason, a horse, representing the corn-god, was customarily slaughtered, and eaten with special rites by the reapers at the harvest supper. Professor Frazer describes some quaint harvest customs, prevalent in Hertfordshire and Shropshire, which furnish examples of the corn-spirit, appearing in the shape of a horse or mare. And, again, in his recent work, Totemism and Exogamy, he records the Red Indian practice of sacrificing costly horses to appease the “medicine” or corn-spirit[1186].

Underlying such observances as those which have been described, there is an idea which gives a clue to a much-discussed problem. Folk of our generation are continually asking why the flesh of such a clean-feeding animal as the horse—a true vegetarian—should be despised as food. The question is not indeed altogether of recent date, for it was propounded in A.D. 1720 by Keysler, who reviews the subject at some length[1187]. He contends that the stringent prohibition must not be credited to the influence of the Mosaic Law; first, because no flesh, in itself, was deemed unclean for the saints, and secondly, because other articles of the ceremonial law had already at various times been abandoned with impunity[1188]. The rejection of horseflesh for food, Keysler concludes, was due to the Christian teachers, who found our pagan ancestors employing the animal in sacrifices and auguries, and eating its flesh in the subsequent repasts; hence, as a mark of disapprobation, this kind of food was forbidden to converts. The results, it is urged by the old antiquary, have been deplorable, more especially, because there is no law of Christ which prescribes this rule of conduct (Christi certe lex nulla exstat, quae eum agendi modum praescribat)[1189].

These propositions, in the main, seem undeniable. We have seen that the Palaeolithic cave-man ate horseflesh freely, and that the Britons of the Round Barrow Period were probably addicted to a like custom. There is little doubt, again, that throughout Roman Britain horseflesh was a common article of food. This is attested by the frequency of the occurrence of broken bones of the horse in the “Brit-Welsh” caves of the Iron Age[1190]. Corroboration of Keysler’s theory is afforded by historical facts. Pope Gregory III. (ruled A.D. 731-741), in a letter to St Boniface, the Apostle of Germany, forbade the eating of the flesh of wild horses as an unclean and execrable act[1191]. Yet at a somewhat earlier date, Gregory II., when consulted on the same perplexing subject, had sent a temporizing answer, shielding himself behind the famous passage in the Epistle to the Corinthians respecting meat offered to idols[1192]. So long as the new faith held its converts insecurely, and wherever Christianity was merely nominal, the frontier line of authority alternatively advanced and receded. Nearly half a century after the death of Gregory III., at the Council of Celchyth (A.D. 787), the consumption of horseflesh was noted as a stain on the character of the British Christians; their fellow-believers in the East were not guilty of such a sin (quod nullus Christianorum in orientalibus facit)[1193]. Yet the monks of St Gall not only ate horse-flesh, but returned thanks for it in the metrical grace, written by the monk Ekkehard III. (died c. A.D. 1036): “Sit feralis equi caro dulcis sub cruce Christi.” Elsewhere, too, the habit seemed incurable. The Norwegians, apparently in paying devotional honour to Odin, still ate the forbidden food during the eleventh and twelfth centuries[1194]. The growth of superstition tended to strengthen the Christian ban against horseflesh. This food was the reputed diet of giants and witches[1195]; its preparation was associated with sacrifices; it was eaten with hallowed salt. The sacrifices, in turn, were connected with popular assemblies or folk-moots[1196]. Now witches and trolls were supposed to live under mounds. Inside these mounds they held their dances, and played on pipes made of horse bones[1197]. The hillocks were, as a rule, actually barrows, the burial-places of bygone peoples, and the folk who had once raised them probably not only ate horseflesh ceremonially, but regarded it as welcome fare in times of dearth and scarcity. Successors of the mound builders continued to partake of horseflesh, and coupled the act with the worship of Odin. The ecclesiastical decrees were thus primarily directed against the pagan practice, but, because of superstition, the ban remained when its original necessity had passed away.

L’AbbÉ Valentin Dufour, who in the year 1868 translated and edited Keysler’s valuable chapter on the eating of horseflesh, adds a few facts which bring the story down to modern times. He tells us that the sale of horseflesh was forbidden in Paris in A.D. 1739, no reason being assigned for the prohibition. When, however, in A.D. 1784, a similar promulgation was issued, the ostensible motive was to prevent disease—there were certain maladies “que l’usage de pareilles chairs ne pouvait manquer d’occasionner[1198].” Since considerable importance was also attached to the assumed novelty of eating horseflesh, Dufour is at some pains to show that slaughter-houses (boucheries, Écorcheries) existed, and that the forbidden flesh was vended, during the early part of the fifteenth century[1199]. Statutes continued to be passed against the use of horseflesh in France, until, in the early nineteenth century (1814, 1816, 1817), the commodity was allowed to be sold by certain persons who had secured the special privilege[1200]. Scarcity of food was doubtless a factor in bringing about a relaxation. By some writers it is supposed that the revulsion of feeling dates from the siege of Copenhagen (A.D. 1807), when the Danes ate horseflesh from necessity, and that the habit gradually spread all over Europe[1201]. This may be true in the general sense, but, archaeologically considered, one may doubt whether the practice had ever been really quite extinct.

The old pre-Christian veneration of the horse probably touches the groundwork of much of the folk-lore about the animal. Professor A. de Gubernatis, in his work on Zoological Mythology, deals fully with horse legends as exemplified in the Vedic, Greek, and Latin literatures, and particularly with the horse as the favourite animal of the solar hero[1202]. It is common, in ancient art, to find symbols of sun-worship associated either with the horse or the chariot, or with both. All that can be done in this place is to supply the reference. One old story may, nevertheless, be noted: that which tells how the Emperor Caligula spoke of raising his horse to the consulship. The usual explanation attributes the remark to a passing caprice, but another interpretation is conceivable. May it not be that Caligula intended the observation as a compliment to British and Gallic opinions concerning the sanctity of selected horses, opinions with which he must have been well acquainted?

We retrace our steps a little. Evidence seems to show that when the early Palaeolithic cave-men hunted the horse, they were accustomed to carry into their shelters only the fleshy parts of the carcass, together with the head of the animal, and—for ornamental purposes—the valuable tail. The long bones, which were crushed to obtain the marrow, do not appear, as a rule, to have been taken into the caves[1203]. Light may be cast on the anomalous separation of flesh and bones by a study of ancient Egyptian custom as described by Herodotus. This writer states that imprecations were heaped on the head of the sacrificial victim, so that any impending evil might fall thereon; the Egyptians, in consequence, would never eat the head of any animal[1204]. Strict taboo, as imposed among common folk, is not inconsistent with ceremonial eating by privileged individuals, and numerous instances might be given in support of this antinomy of custom. Merely as a speculation, it might be suggested that the head of the victim was at one time a delicate morsel reserved for the chieftain. In the caves of the Neolithic and Bronze Ages, the skull does not seem to be of common occurrence, but in the early historic period, as shown by folklore, we catch echoes of its legendary repute. Tacitus relates that the ancient German tribes hung the heads of animals on trees as offerings to Odin. In Teutonic fairy tales, the horse’s head works miracles, especially when played upon as an instrument[1205]. It was thrown by witches into the Midsummer fire[1206]—a notable collocation of details. Russian magic teaches that ambrosia comes out of a horse’s head, and enables its possessor to do deeds of prowess. By virtue of this ambrosia one hero discomfited ninety-nine hostile monsters[1207]. In parts of Germany, horses’ heads were buried in stables; in Holland, they were hung over pigstyes; in Mecklenburg, they were placed under a sick man’s pillow[1208]. Again, in Lower Saxony, horses’ heads, projecting outwards, were carved on the gables of buildings, ostensibly for ornament, but in reality, it is probable, to prevent mischief to the horses kept within. A similar practice was observed by the builders of the older houses in Rhaetia[1209]. In modern Norway, the handles of bowls, and the ends of the wooden lever by which the primitive mangles are worked, are often formed of carved horse-heads. Numerous examples may be seen in the Horniman Museum, London. Specimens are said to have been met with in English houses also. Some authorities considered that the figures represented a Celtic legacy, but Grimm claims that the custom of carving these images, like that of horse-worship generally, belongs “equally to Celts, Teutons, and Slavs[1210].” The domain might be much extended. Even in our own day (1865), such carvings as those described have been recorded from Jutland. They were once common, it is stated, in Sussex, and Miss M. Braitmaier has figured a series of modern gable ornaments from different parts of Germany[1211]. When someone asked the meaning of the horses’ heads on the Jutish gables, the natives answered, “Oh, they are Hengist and Horsa[1212].” (Note that the name Hengist = a stallion, and Horsa = a mare.) Whether or not Hengist and Horsa were historical personages may be left in abeyance, the fact remains that they were sometimes represented by horses’ heads carried in front of the army as tutelary deities.

In certain parts of England, notably in Kent, there still survives the custom of a group of men going round at Christmas carrying a horse’s head, crudely carved in wood, and known as the “hoodening horse.” Sometimes, it would appear, a skull long buried in the soil, and afterwards dug up by chance, formed the “wooser,” “wooset,” or “husset[1213].” Mr P. Maylam, who has carefully collated the records of analogous customs from both England and Germany, considers that the word “hoodening” is not, as popularly supposed, derived either from the Norse word Odin or the Low German form Woden. He prefers to connect it with those old performances in which the hobby horse and characters representing Robin Hood and Maid Marian were prominent. A writer in the Athenaeum ridicules this idea, and prosaically refers the name to the hood or sack which concealed the supposed body of the horse—really the body of the hoodener, or performer[1214]. Yes, but why should the horse, hooded or otherwise, enter into the ceremonies at all? It is easy to deride the early school, of which Grimm is a representative, as old-fashioned and full of extravagances. But we have to face a series of converging customs, which were not begotten of a complex society like that of modern or even Mediaeval England. Only by an appeal to some primitive form of the horse cult can an ultimate solution be really obtained.

Standing in close relationship to the “hoodening horse” custom, is a somewhat weird Welsh practice, which is now nearly extinct, but which some enthusiasts have lately attempted to revive. A horse’s skull is dressed up and carried about by a performer who is enveloped in a cloak. He makes the jaws of the skull snap to the accompaniment of Welsh rhymes. Houses are visited, and largesse is demanded. The performance, known colloquially as Mari Lwyd, is traced by some to pre-Reformation usage. But doubtless, it goes back, like the “hoodening horse,” of which, perhaps, it is a mere variant, to pagan times[1215].

Virgil relates a curious tradition which bears on our subject. As the Carthaginians were digging near a venerable wood, they dug up a horse’s skull—a “courser’s head,” as the phrase runs in Dryden’s translation, and this discovery was accounted such a prosperous omen that a temple was raised to Juno on that spot[1216]. Professor Conington, garnering his knowledge from several classical writers, gives us the additional information that the head of an ox was first lighted upon, and that this was thought to portend servitude, but after further excavation, the horse’s head appeared—an earnest of plenty, combined with success in war[1217]. From Vishnu mythology comes a contradictory item, for, in that system, the mouth of hell is conceived as a huge horse head[1218].

Before quitting this department of folk-lore, we may scan the wider field of skull superstitions in general. A fox’s head, nailed to a Scotch stable door, was supposed to keep off the dreaded witch. I noticed an instance of this custom at Rottingdean, near Brighton, in 1908, but cannot be sure that any significance was attached to the fox’s head[1219]. Why, again, does the gamekeeper suspend rows of weasels, stoats, cats, magpies, and jays on his gibbet? Certainly he does this, in the first place, to prove his zealous stewardship, and perhaps with some dimly conscious belief that similar “evil-doers” will take warning. But from observation of other curious practices, scarcely to be discussed here, one suspects that the origin was ceremonial. We must also remember cases like that described by Mr Baring-Gould, who once saw, hanging on a magnificent elm at Westmeston, under Ditchling Beacon, in Sussex, the carcasses of two horses and three calves. The reason offered for this custom was that the suspension of the bodies was lucky for cattle. Keeping, however, to a consideration of heads, we notice that Sir G. L. Gomme records a peculiar instance from Hornchurch, in Essex, where the lessee of the tithes used to pay, as a Christmas tribute, a boar’s head. This payment could not depend upon the intrinsic value of the toll, nor could the destruction of a single boar be counted meritorious in itself. The tribute was obviously symbolical. Camden relates that a stag was formerly paid as part of the rent of Church lands situated in Essex. He adds that, when he was a boy, namely, in the third quarter of the sixteenth century, the priests of St Paul’s Cathedral were accustomed to meet the stag as it was brought up the steps of the sacred building. The animal’s head was then carried on a spear round the cathedral, which echoed meanwhile to the sound of horns. Of this curious ceremony, the young antiquary was an eye-witness[1220].

From a review of these facts, we may deduce that the head of a slaughtered animal bore an imputed sanctity. This was essentially the case when the animal had been offered in sacrifice, and it is to pagan and prehistoric ritual that we must look for an interpretation of the facts. The species of animal esteemed most sacred would vary with the time and the place—here, the horse, there, the ox. Later days brought other competitors for the position of honour. Only by keeping well in mind the widespread belief in the efficacy of skulls, are we enabled to understand another series of records, which we now proceed to summarize.

More than half a century ago, when the chancel of St Botolph’s church, Boston, was being rebuilt, a quantity of horses’ bones and the jaw-bones of sheep were found under the floor[1221]. Again, we have seen that, on the site of the present St Paul’s Cathedral, a deposit of bones of oxen and other animals was discovered indicating a pagan site[1222] (cf. p. 83 supra). Secular buildings have also yielded horse remains. In 1895, when Colonel Stanley Scott was taking up the ground floor of a house in North Devon, he discovered, laid in order and well preserved, the skulls of eight horses and ten bullocks[1223]. In Wharfedale, again, under the floor of a house, probably from two to three hundred years old, the workmen took up the skulls of seven horses and a cow[1224]. With these discoveries one naturally associates the Dutch and German customs already mentioned (p. 440 supra). And, of course, the primitive idea must be connected with that which underlies foundation sacrifices, although complication arises from the unique merit attached to skulls. The foundation sacrifice is widely prevalent, but the burial of skulls is a more specialized custom.

It will be noticed that, of the last two examples, one is recent, and the other comparatively recent, therefore any folk-memory associated with the deposition of the skulls was probably defective. According to popular belief in Ireland, the skulls which are nowadays placed under buildings are intended to “cause an echo.” Just as a public building has, or has not, a horses skull buried beneath it, so will it be good or bad for the purpose of hearing. A certain field which possessed a good echo was commonly believed to have a horse interred in it; the tradition was sound, but it is not known whether the horse was buried for that purpose[1225]. Why, it may be pertinently asked, does a field need a good echo?

On broad grounds, it is sufficiently obvious that the sacrificial idea preceded the economic, yet there must have been a period of overlapping. For not only was some variation of the custom observed, as we shall see, by Mediaeval church builders, but the practice was kept up until our own days. Noticeably has this been the case in the Scottish Presbyterian Church[1226]. When the old Bristol Street meeting-house, in Edinburgh, was being demolished a century ago, eight horse skulls were found concealed in the sounding-board of the pulpit[1227]. Less than half a century back, the same class of object was put under an organ in a parish church in the province of Munster to increase the effect of the music[1228].

The modern theory of the acoustic purpose of the skulls fades as we trace the custom to more remote times. A small chamber in the belfry of Elsdon church, Northumberland, appeared to have been built specially to contain three horse skulls, which had lain piled against each other for hundreds of years[1229]. The masons of old time doubtless imagined that the skulls would make the tones of the bells more resonant, but, “lulled in the countless chambers of the brain” there must have been almost-forgotten memories of these traditional talismans. These sacred and oracular heads, there can be little question, were built into heathen temples before the dawn of history, and the habit was passed on from one generation to another[1230]. Does this theory seem far-fetched? Consider the conditions at Elsdon. Here is a district teeming with earthworks and other British and Roman remains. The population is scanty, the moorland wild and pathless; there was, until recently, little inter-communication among the scattered folk. Hereditary custom held firm sway. Such was the preference for burial in Elsdon churchyard, that corpses were carried many miles over the moors for interment. Yet pagan customs were rife. Well-worship was carried on here until our own times, and not many decades have passed since cattle were driven through the Midsummer bonfires to ward off disease. How much stronger was superstition when the village church of Elsdon was first built! There must have been dark, undisturbed depths of paganism in the lives of the countryfolk. We really know little of the true beliefs of the Mediaeval peasant, as recorded by himself. Even our information about the faiths held by the official classes, though somewhat exiguous, reveals a basis of gross superstition. The gap between the twentieth century and the sixteenth is almost immeasurable as compared with that between the sixteenth century and the Neolithic period.

Let us halt, to draw a comparison from Brittany. Who, in the absence of direct evidence, would have imagined that, in our own generation, a people, nominally Christian, could have been found to set out dishes of cream for the dead on All Souls’ Eve, to employ grave-earth for the cure of fevers, to pour out milk on tombs as a libation, to anoint menhirs with oil and honey, to scatter the ashes of the festival fires over the fields to ensure a fat harvest? Yet all these customs have been practised by the Bretons in recent times. Well-worship, the blessing of oxen at Carnac, the ghastly reverence paid to images personifying Death, and all such rites, we pass by, as being everywhere somewhat persistent. The parallel which I wish to draw is between the Mediaeval Englishman and the more modern Breton. Could we turn back and thoroughly understand the pages of history, I am convinced that even the seventeenth century peasant of the English Cornwall, for example, would be found quite as superstitious as the nineteenth century peasant of the French Cornwall. What is true of Cornwall, holds good for the Highlands of Scotland, for Ireland and Wales, and, in a lesser degree, for the whole of rural England.

To return: the acoustic idea had its birth so far back as Roman times at least, though at that period it was associated with the use of sounding jars. Probably horse skulls were still buried sacrificially, but the purpose was being forgotten. The belief in the efficacy of horse skulls as reverberators seems to have been derived from the employment of these jars, at a rather later time when the sacramental idea concerning skulls was obsolete. About the jars themselves there has been a vast controversy, which, even at the risk of being discursive, we must briefly notice.

To take a Roman example first: along the seats of the Coliseum there was a peculiar arrangement of horizontal pots, which Sir E. Beckett (Lord Grimthorpe) believed were intended to augment the sound. As a result of experiment, this authority found that the vessels acted much in the same way as would a series of short, wide tubes, if presented to a hemispherical bell when this was struck[1231]. Vitruvius mentions brazen vessels, perhaps comparable to the gong or kettle-drum, as being in use in Roman theatres. Some writers have thought that the purpose was to make the voices of the actors more distinct, others consider that the vessels were accessories in the imitation of thunder.

Coming to Mediaeval times, we find that the church of the Celestins at Metz was furnished (A.D. 1439) with jars, expressly to improve the chanting, but it is affirmed that experience showed them to be useless. Mr Gordon M. Hills, in a valuable paper on this subject, says that the jars were “a great disfigurement to the building, the marvel of all beholders, and the jest of fools[1232].” There are other Continental records of acoustic jars from Strasburg, Angers, Paris, and other places. L’AbbÉ Cochet discovered numerous specimens in the churches of Upper Normandy, together with “cornets” of baked earth in the church of St Blaise, at Arles. Illustrations of some of these are given in Cochet’s paper in the Gentleman’s Magazine[1233], and the statement is made that similar “cornets” are found in the interior walls and vaults of many churches in Sweden, Denmark, and Russia[1234]. Didron, after referring to specimens from the two first-named countries, and to those discovered at Arles and Metz, decides against the acoustic hypothesis: “Ce mode [d’acoustique] me semblait aussi puÉril qu’inefficace[1235].” And, seeing that the men of the Middle Ages made bells and organs so commonly, why, he asks, are not the sounding “poteries” of more frequent occurrence[1236]?

In England, notable finds of jars are on record, though the number of churches concerned is but a trivial percentage of the whole. At St Clement’s, Sandwich, the jars were built into the walls of the chancel, overlooking the altar[1237]. At Barkway, Hertfordshire, they were likewise embedded in the chancel wall, but on the floor level[1238]. They are also found in the thickness of the wall, a few inches below the floor level, as at Fountains Abbey, where they had been placed at the base of the old choir screen. The Fountains vases lay on their sides, and both in and around them there was an abundance of charcoal. The charcoal, it is conjectured, may have had no more mysterious origin than a fire which occurred at the Dissolution[1239]. Jars, supposed to be of Romano-British make, were found on the top of the chancel wall at East Harling, Norfolk; in each case the mouth of the jar faced the interior of the chancel. For a long time a coating of lath and plaster had concealed these curiosities[1240], and one is led to wonder whether other jars may not, even now, lie hidden elsewhere. The gables of Newington church, Kent, yielded three jars. Other records come from Fairwell (Staffs.), Denford (Northants.), St Peter’s Mancroft and St Peter-per-Mountergate in Norwich, Upton, near Newark, and from Youghal, in Ireland[1241]. But the greatest collection of all was uncovered at the village church of Leeds, near Maidstone, in 1878. Altogether, about fifty earthenware pots were revealed. They were found on the top of each wall of the nave, below the wall plate. The walls and oaken roof belonged to the fifteenth century. The best judges at first declared that the vessels were of Romano-British manufacture, and dated a thousand years earlier than the fabric. This would seem to indicate that a series of urns had been discovered in the neighbourhood, and pressed into service by the Mediaeval masons. Later expert opinion, however, declares that the jars, though possessing some Celtic characteristics, are of Mediaeval date. The bodies of the jars were cylindrical, and about 8 or 9 inches in diameter, while the mouths narrowed to 3 or 4 inches. The height averaged 10-12 inches. The bottom of each jar was convex and perforated. Mr Hills calls attention to some perplexing general considerations. The jars are of any form and every form, they are old and new, they are placed, as if at hazard, from the floor to the roof. He therefore concludes that the intentions were several, although he does not himself suggest any other purpose to supplement the acoustic theory[1242]. In such a matter as this, difference of purpose, variety in underlying belief, changeable custom according to locality, confused folk-memory and tradition, need cause the antiquary no surprise. The prime motive having vanished, the custom is bereft of its full meaning, and the course of development runs along divergent rather than parallel lines. Two other discoveries which seem to favour the acoustic theory may be given—those at Ashburton, in Devon (1838), and Luppitt, also in Devon (1880). The Ashburton jars (Fig. 88 A), though convex at the base, and exhibiting chevron ornament, are assigned not to the Late-Celtic period, but to the close of the fourteenth or the beginning of the fifteenth century. The jars from Luppitt (Fig. 88 B) are comparable to those found at Leeds. They were apparently made especially for insertion in a wall, as they are flattened a little in one portion. They probably belong to the fifteenth century[1243].

This question of “acoustic jars” has been dilated upon because it seems to involve an indirect derivative of the skull superstition, and one is induced to outline the story, however roughly and tentatively. We start with a period when the horse cult is rife, and when solemnity is the note of the priest and soothsayer. At a later date, a horse, or among some peoples, an

Fig. 88. Acoustic jars.

A. Skittle-shaped specimen from Ashburton church, Devon. The jar is grey, and highly burnt. a, b, are yellow bands, on which are incised chevrons.

B. Small jar (6´´ × 4½´´) from Luppitt, Devonshire. It has some of the characteristics of Celtic pottery, but probably belongs to the fifteenth century.

Jour. Archaeol. Assoc. XXXVIII. p. 220.

ox, is slain and buried under the foundations of the pagan temple. By and by, the skull, representing the most mysterious and sacred part of the animal, is considered to be sufficient by itself. Instead of being uniformly hidden under the building, it is built into the wall or placed in a specially constructed recess. The depositories are not confined to one part of the building. At a later date, a purely practical interpretation is assigned to the skulls. Secular architects, or architects not versed in the mystic lore of their heathen fathers, become prone to substitute an urn or a jar for the skull. The early Christians, adapting, it may be, the old pagan site, and actuated either by necessity or diplomacy, at times prudently permit the old rite and custom. The two practices run side by side, but the motive is weak, and ultimately becomes debatable. Then springs up the explanation that skulls and jars alike are used to produce sonorous beauty, and on this our modern theory is based. Nevertheless, these perversions of the original purpose have not been everywhere co-eval; we have seen, for example, that the architects of the Coliseum had reached the structural stage of the idea, and evidently turned the principle to good account.

Folk-memory weakens according to the degree of civilization and in response to outside influences. As, on the one hand, the imperfectly hollow horse skull is supplanted by jars, vases, and urns; so, on the other, an ox-skull becomes a mere ornament on the frieze of a Roman Doric building. Again, certain builders, apparently misled by the earthenware vessels, and connecting them with traditions or actual experiences of urn-burial, employ a modification of such vessels as pure ornament. The story has several parts. The mingling of the symbolic and the utilitarian idea is difficult to unravel, hence there is room for much speculation, and need for some suspension of final judgement.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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