The Ballad of the White Horse is in the public domain: it can be read for free at https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1719/1719-h/1719-h.htm
There are two poems in the English language that are better than all the rest (and longer, too). Those are Paradise Lost by John Milton and The Ballad of the White Horse by G.K. Chesterton (which I will abbreviate to BWH). There, I said it. Milton needs no defense from me, but Chesterton’s epic ballad has not received nearly as much critical attention, nor enjoyed as wide an influence. That might lead one to question my claim about its brilliance, but one would be wrong. Paradise Lost was not fully appreciated as a masterpiece until decades after being published—well after Milton’s death. Neither yet has Chesterton’s masterpiece been acknowledged as such.
The ‘white horse’ in reference here is the White Horse of Uffington, a massive figure carved out of the chalk on a South-England hillside. We do not know precisely how long ago it was made, but the shortest estimates are around 500 B.C, meaning that the horse must be at least 2500 years old. Though it is named after the chalk figure, the main character in Chesterton’s poem is actually King Alfred the Great of England, the only English monarch to bear the title “Great”. Before I provide some of the historical backstory for understanding the BWH, I will let Chesterton give this disclaimer:
“This ballad needs no historical notes, for the simple reason that it does not profess to be historical. All of it that is not frankly fictitious, as in any prose romance about the past, is meant to emphasize tradition rather than history. King Alfred is not a legend in the sense that King Arthur may be a legend; that is, in the sense that he may possibly be a lie. But King Alfred is a legend in this broader and more human sense, that the legends are the most important things about him.”
Chesterton is not concerned with the minute details such as where exactly Alfred’s great victory over Guthrum was fought. He is more concerned with the big picture, such as the fact that it was a good thing that Alfred won, much as Herodotus may have exaggerated the numbers of the Persian armies, but was accurate in identifying the threat that they posed. In other words, whether or not it is a reliable narrative history, it is a great moral history.
Now, on to the main players. Alfred was King of Wessex in the late 9th century, but expanded his kingdom to the point of being called “King of the Anglo-Saxons.” He was the youngest of several sons, all of whom ruled for short, troubled reigns. England was split into multiple factions, and under invasion from the Vikings. Chesterton will at times refer to “Aethelred,” or “Egbert”, or some other Anglo-Saxon names–all you need to know is that they are Alfred’s family, of which he is essentially the last. “The whirlpool of the pagan sway had whirled his sires like sticks away,” as Chesterton puts it.
The “pagan sway” is the Great Heathen Army, an invasion force that ravaged England from 865 until 878. Alfred, who became king in 871, was at constant war with them in the beginning of his reign. He “fled before the Danes of old,” and “chaffered with the Danes with gold.” Despite some small victories, he appeared to be fighting a losing war. Eventually he resorted to paying them off to leave Wessex alone, but the Danes always broke the pact and came back anyway. At his lowest point, King Alfred was run out of his fortress, and forced to take refuge in the swamp of Athelney, with most of his army lost. One is reminded of King David, always on the run, always against the odds, and yet always clinging to hope. As to how Alfred’s story ends, well… that is the point of the poem!
His opponent was Guthrum, the Danish King of East Anglia, and a pagan. Though he only took charge of the army later in the invasion and likely after the force had split, Chesterton treats him as a symbolic figure, representing the might and rule of all the Norse at once. In fact, most of the characters play a similar role. Alfred’s vassals, the Lords Eldred, Marcus, and Colan, each represent the culture and peoples of the Franks, Romans, and Celts respectively. To let Chesterton explain it, “it is the chief value of legend to mix up the centuries while preserving the sentiment.” The men in the BWH are not individuals, but ideas, philosophies, traditions, and populations; they are like Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty. There are also Biblical and mythological figures and stories that one needs to know in order to appreciate Chesterton’s epic, but I think these can be dealt with as we go along.
Chesterton’s religious perspective should also be noted: though he is remembered as a Catholic, he did not convert until 1922, and this poem was published in 1911. It was as a high-church Anglican that he wrote the BWH, not as a Catholic. And yet, curiously he includes Marian apparitions as a driving force in the poem. King Alfred actually speaks with her. I do not think that Christians who reject prayers to the saints need to trouble themselves about this. The same principles apply here, wherein Chesterton is taking the beliefs and philosophies of the historical figures and implementing them for the sake of the story. He treats the pagan gods in a similar way; indeed, the opening words are, “Before the gods that made the gods had seen their sunrise pass…” Certainly he is not suggesting the stories of Kronos or Ymir are true; he is merely pitting all of paganism and all of Christendom against one another.
In 1901, Chesterton became an Anglican after having been agnostic for some time. His wife, Frances, was instrumental in his conversion. It is to her that he dedicates the BWH, writing:
Lady, by one light only
We look from Alfred's eyes,
We know he saw athwart the wreck
The sign that hangs about your neck,
Where One more than Melchizedek
Is dead and never dies.
Therefore I bring these rhymes to you
Who brought the cross to me,
Since on you flaming without flaw
I saw the sign that Guthrum saw
When he let break his ships of awe,
And laid peace on the sea.
It may be a long poem, and one that requires some religious, historical, and mythical backstory to appreciate, but I insist it is well worth it. There are only a few key points to remember to avoid getting lost in the lines. First, it is really a demonstration of the Christian worldview against the pagan, not merely a historical account. Second, each character represents a philosophy and/or culture; we might say that we all have each of these characters living inside us, to some extent. Finally, this is a poem. Attempting to interpret it literally, or analogize it to “real life,” is simply missing the point. It is a story about a godly King who loses so faithfully that he wins; it is the story of David, the story of Christ, and the story of the Church.