The Ballad of the White Horse (Annotated) E-Book

G.K. Chesterton

• Herausgeber: ePembaBooks
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

• This edition includes the following editor's introduction: G. K. Chesterton, the man beyond the writer

Originally published in 1911, "The Ballad of the White Horse" is a poem by G. K. Chesterton about the idealised exploits of the Saxon King Alfred the Great and is considered to be his best work of poetry.

Written in ballad form, "The Ballad of the White Horse" tells the story of how the King defeated the invading Danes at the Battle of Ethandun in the Valley of the White Horse, beneath an ancient equine image on the Berkshire hills.

This epic ballad has been described as one of the last great traditional epic poems ever written in the English language.

Leseprobe

G. K. Chesterton

Table of contents

G. K. Chesterton, the man beyond the writer

THE BALLAD OF THE WHITE HORSE

Prefatory Note

Dedication

Book 1. The Vision Of The King

Book 2. The Gathering Of The Chiefs

Book 3. The Harp Of Alfred

Book 4. The Woman In The Forest

Book 5. Ethandune: The First Stroke

Book 6. Ethandune: The Slaying Of The Chiefs

Book 7. Ethandune: The Last Charge

Book 8. The Scouring Of The Horse

G. K. Chesterton, the man beyond the writer

There are writers who disappear into their subjects or, rather, who dissolve into them, like a substance that determines, but we barely perceive; others, on the other hand, it seems that their personality is the key to everything they touch. Among the latter is Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936), author of almost a hundred works including essays, articles and short stories. He found it hard not to write a book on any subject that occupied his mind. He was a cultured man, and more intuitive than rigorous, although it must be admitted that his intuition was very well formed, except, perhaps, in his fierce defence of Catholicism, something which united him with his lifelong friend Hilaire Belloc, another who, if not bordering on fanaticism, at least touches on obsession bordering on nonsense at times, as when he postulated, something he shared with Chesterton, the need for there to be only one religion, the true one, that is, Catholicism. Chesterton is one of those writers, like Samuel Johnson, who possesses a strong personality, and he shares with the Scotsman the good fortune of having had talent; otherwise he would have been an imbecile or a buffoon. Not all those without talent are imbeciles or buffoons, for that you have to take some risk, and Chesterton took the risk, for the time being, of arguing with his contemporaries, and of confronting the great dead with an attitude not exempt from closeness and irreverence, without excluding admiration and respect, which manages to make them more alive to us. Moreover, like H. G. Wells, he was a writer concerned with his time, although the author of "The Invisible Man" was a socialist and Chesterton a conservative, but, like almost everything about him, he needs to define himself in order to fit in. I said earlier that he was not rigorous, and what I meant was not that he did not try to get to the end of his reflections, but that on many occasions he did not do enough research, for example, in science, when he talks about evolutionism, because, unlike H.G. Wells, he had no idea of biology. But Chesterton was a man of remarkable intelligence, as well as a wonderful prose writer, a master of paradoxes and parallels of all kinds, able to make sparks fly in any sentence. He was brilliant, and those sparkles illuminated much of what he spoke. He had other qualities: cordiality and humour, also with himself, although humour and cordiality did not exempt him from being combative and a fearsome debater. As is well known, he moved from agnosticism to Anglicanism before finally, in 1922, embracing Christianity with fervour and book. From that date is his text "Why I Am Catholic," which could be read in parallel with Bertrand Russell's "Why I Am Not a Christian" (1927). Chesterton looked a bit like filmmaker Orson Wells, very tall and getting fatter with age. They both had some temperamental stubbornness, I think. And they both shared what I said at the beginning: we recognise a Chesterton text as easily as we recognise a Wells film fragment as something that belongs entirely to them. An overview of Chesterton's work In his early literary days he used to write poetry, making his debut with the volume of poems "Greybeards At Play" (1900). In 1911, he would publish his finest work of poetry, " The Ballad of the White Horse." This was followed by phenomenal critical essays on various British literary figures, including Thomas Carlyle, William Makepeace Thackeray and Charles Dickens, and his first novel, "The Napoleon of Notting Hill" (1904), a book of incisive political observation and social criticism approached with an intelligent sense of humour. He later published important titles such as "The Club of Queer Trades" (1905), the book of police intrigue and Christian allegory "The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare" (1908), "Manalive" (1912), "The Flying Inn" (1914) and "The Return of Don Quixote" (1927). His international transcendence, apart from his excellent books of essays, was based on the writing of novels and short stories that showed his skill in linguistic handling, in the use of insightful comedy, and in the imagination for the creation of detective plots, with many of them retaining a critical character and an allegorical sense. His stories featuring Father Brown brought him worldwide fame. This character was created on the basis of his friendship with Father John O'Connor, whom Chesterton met at the beginning of the 20th century. O'Connor's ideals of life made a strong impression on the intellectual mind of G. K., who by 1909 had left the hustle and bustle of London to live in the quieter Beaconsfield. The titles of the books with the adventures of the popular priest detective are "The Innocence of Father Brown" (1911), "The Wisdom of Father Brown" (1914), "The Incredulity of Father Brown" (1926), "The Secret of Father Brown" (1927) and "The Scandal of Father Brown" (1935). In fiction, he also published short stories, such as those collected in the volume "The Poet and the Lunatics" (1929), short stories centred on a single character, the poet Gabriel Gale. Chesterton was a lucid thinker on the political and social reality around him, defending the simplicity of primordial Christian values, and in 1911 he founded a publication with another British writer of French origin, Hilarie Belloc. After the First World War he took up distributism, which called for a better distribution of wealth and property. His ideas clashed with other important intellectuals of the time, such as H. G. Wells and George Bernard Shaw. As explained above, in 1922 G. K. Chesterton eventually converted to Catholicism, writing biographies of St. Francis of Assisi and St. Thomas Aquinas. Some of his most important essays are "Heretics" (1905), "Orthodoxy" (1908), "What's Wrong With the World" (1910) and "The Everlasting Man" (1925).

He also wrote "A Short History of England" (1917) and biographies of writers such as Robert Louis Stevenson and George Bernard Shaw.

The Editor, P.C. 2022

THE BALLAD OF THE WHITE HORSE

G. K. Chesterton

Prefatory Note

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.

The cult of Alfred was a popular cult, from the darkness of the ninth century to the deepening twilight of the twentieth. It is wholly as a popular legend that I deal with him here. I write as one ignorant of everything, except that I have found the legend of a King of Wessex still alive in the land. I will give three curt cases of what I mean. A tradition connects the ultimate victory of Alfred with the valley in Berkshire called the Vale of the White Horse. I have seen doubts of the tradition, which may be valid doubts. I do not know when or where the story started; it is enough that it started somewhere and ended with me; for I only seek to write upon a hearsay, as the old balladists did. For the second case, there is a popular tale that Alfred played the harp and sang in the Danish camp; I select it because it is a popular tale, at whatever time it arose. For the third case, there is a popular tale that Alfred came in contact with a woman and cakes; I select it because it is a popular tale, because it is a vulgar one. It has been disputed by grave historians, who were, I think, a little too grave to be good judges of it. The two chief charges against the story are that it was first recorded long after Alfred's death, and that (as Mr. Oman urges) Alfred never really wandered all alone without any thanes or soldiers. Both these objections might possibly be met. It has taken us nearly as long to learn the whole truth about Byron, and perhaps longer to learn the whole truth about Pepys, than elapsed between Alfred and the first writing of such tales. And as for the other objection, do the historians really think that Alfred after Wilton, or Napoleon after Leipsic, never walked about in a wood by himself for the matter of an hour or two? Ten minutes might be made sufficient for the essence of the story. But I am not concerned to prove the truth of these popular traditions. It is enough for me to maintain two things: that they are popular traditions; and that without these popular traditions we should have bothered about Alfred about as much as we bother about Eadwig.

One other consideration needs a note. Alfred has come down to us in the best way (that is, by national legends) solely for the same reason as Arthur and Roland and the other giants of that darkness, because he fought for the Christian civilization against the heathen nihilism. But since this work was really done by generation after generation, by the Romans before they withdrew, and by the Britons while they remained, I have summarised this first crusade in a triple symbol, and given to a fictitious Roman, Celt, and Saxon, a part in the glory of Ethandune. I fancy that in fact Alfred's Wessex was of very mixed bloods; but in any case, it is the chief value of legend to mix up the centuries while preserving the sentiment; to see all ages in a sort of splendid foreshortening. That is the use of tradition: it telescopes history.

G.K.C.

Dedication

Of great limbs gone to chaos,

A great face turned to night—

Why bend above a shapeless shroud

Seeking in such archaic cloud

Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands

Lie buried one by one,

Why should one idle spade, I wonder,

Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder

To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven

What shape shall man discern?

These lords may light the mystery

Of mastery or victory,

And these ride high in history,

But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon