On the sweeping chalk hills of Wiltshire, a centuries-old symbol of English heritage has once again found itself at the heart of a modern debate. The Westbury White Horse, a striking 53-metre (approximately 175-180ft) figure carved into the hillside below Bratton Camp, was temporarily transformed this week when red fabric was pinned across its body to form a St George’s cross. The move, which echoes similar acts in years past, has prompted a flurry of reactions—ranging from patriotic celebration to concerns about the monument’s preservation and the broader social climate in England.
According to BBC News, the red fabric was first reported to English Heritage, the body responsible for the landmark’s care, on September 9, 2025. The fabric was swiftly removed, but the story didn’t end there. English Heritage immediately began assessing whether the pegs used to secure the fabric had caused any damage to the beloved monument. “The red fabric which was attached to the Westbury White Horse has been removed. We’re now assessing whether any damage – for instance, from pegs – has been caused to this much-loved historic landmark,” a spokesperson for English Heritage told The Guardian.
While the motivations behind this latest transformation remain officially unclear, the act is not without precedent. In 2018, similar red material was draped over the horse ahead of the England men’s football World Cup semi-final, as reported by BBC News. This time around, the event takes place amid a wave of flag-flying across the country, spurred by an online campaign that has seen Union Jacks and St George’s crosses appear on lamp-posts, motorway bridges, and even mini-roundabouts. Some see this as a show of pride and support for England’s Lionesses during the 2025 Euros. Others, however, view the sudden proliferation of flags with suspicion, linking it to heightened tensions over immigration and claims of xenophobia or racism.
According to The Irish News, the campaign has divided public opinion. “Some people have celebrated the campaign, while others claim the increased number of flags is a result of xenophobia or racism.” Anti-extremist groups such as Hope Not Hate and Stand Up to Racism have gone further, alleging that the campaign has been orchestrated by well-known far-right figures, rather than being a spontaneous grassroots movement.
Yet, for all the controversy swirling around the symbolism, the practical matter of the horse’s preservation remains front and center for local authorities and heritage experts. The Westbury White Horse is not just a local curiosity—it’s a scheduled monument, a status that grants it legal protection and makes damaging it a criminal offence. The horse’s origins stretch back to the late 1600s, with local records indicating it was likely created to commemorate the Battle of Ethandun, thought to have taken place nearby at Bratton Camp in 878 AD. The site itself is steeped in history, with Bratton Camp being an Iron Age hillfort over 2,000 years old and evidence of a Stone Age long barrow discovered in the vicinity, as detailed by The Guardian.
Over the years, the horse has required regular maintenance to retain its iconic whiteness. Historically, this meant “scouring”—a labor-intensive process to clean and refresh the chalk outline. The last recorded scouring took place in 1853. In the 1950s, the horse was covered in white-painted concrete, a solution that eventually turned grey and was replaced in 1993. As techniques advanced, English Heritage introduced a specialist steam cleaning system in 2006, enabling the application of environmentally friendly white paint to a clean surface. Subsequent rounds of cleaning and repainting followed in 2011, 2016, and 2018.
The most recent major restoration occurred in 2023, when a conservation team abseiled down the near-vertical face of the horse to carry out extensive cleaning and repairs. This dramatic effort underscored the challenges of maintaining such a large, exposed monument—and the ongoing commitment to its preservation. As BBC News noted, “This involved a conservation team abseiling down the steep face of the horse.”
Despite the legal protections in place, Wiltshire Police have taken a measured approach to the latest incident. A spokesperson for the force stated, “We are aware of red material being pinned across the Westbury White Horse to form the St George’s cross. No criminal offences are thought to have been committed and we are not investigating it,” as reported by both BBC News and The Irish News. Westbury Town Council echoed this sentiment, confirming awareness of the event but taking no further action.
The question of intent—why the St George’s cross was pinned to the horse at this particular moment—remains unanswered. Some local groups have told the BBC they are motivated by “pride and patriotism,” while others feel that such acts are provocative, especially in the current climate of heightened national debate over immigration and identity. The symbolism of the St George’s cross, historically associated with English heritage, has become a flashpoint in recent years, with its display sometimes interpreted as a political statement rather than a simple act of support for a sports team or national celebration.
For many in Westbury and beyond, the horse is a cherished emblem, woven into the landscape and the community’s sense of history. It has stood watch over Wiltshire’s rolling fields for centuries, surviving wars, changing fashions, and the inexorable passage of time. Its periodic transformations—whether through necessary maintenance or, as this week, through acts of public expression—highlight the ways in which monuments can become canvases for contemporary concerns, hopes, and anxieties.
As English Heritage continues its careful assessment, the story of the Westbury White Horse serves as a microcosm of broader national conversations. It’s a reminder that even the most seemingly timeless landmarks are not immune to the currents of change and the passions of the present. Whether the pegs left a mark or the fabric’s symbolism lingers longer in the public imagination, one thing is certain: the Westbury White Horse, in all its chalky grandeur, remains as relevant—and as watched—as ever.
