It was no doubt Beowulf’s reference to niceras (water-beasts) that evoked Unferth’s special reference to the match with Breca. But the events are not the same: the earlier is an attack in revenge against monsters who have injured the Geats – and ‘asked for trouble’ (wéan ahsodon); the second is primarily a swimming and endurance match, to which the water-beasts are incidental.
The writing of the verbs geband, ýðde without conjunction marks the second as relating to the same action as the former: ‘on the occasion when I bound five, ravaging the ogre-kind’; but the interposition in line *421 of ond (of which as a conjunction joining sentences the author is sparing) clearly marks what follows as a separate or additional matter: best appreciated now by stressing ‘and’: ‘and I slew nicors in the waves by night.’20
I think it highly likely that fífe ‘five’ in line *420 is an error for fífel neuter plural ‘monsters’. This word was practically forgotten, and is only preserved in one of the fragments of the Old English poem Waldere, but occurs in Beowulf *104 in the compound fífelcynnes eard (86 ‘the troll-kind’s home’) of Grendel’s home, which shows connexion of fífel with eoten. This word seems to have represented the eoten-kind in their huge, clumsy, lumpish and stupid side: so Old Norse fífl ‘clown, boor, fool’. But in any case geband is not ofslóh, so that even retaining the numeral fífe there is evidently no direct connexion with *574–5, ic mid sweorde ofslóh niceras nigene (466–7).
These references are allusive and obscure, and even to people who knew the words (fífel, eoten, nicor) familiarly, as we must suppose the audience which the author had in mind did, they can only have been of interest as allusions to known tales. Two deductions are legitimate:
(1) that entertainment in the hall (by scop, or þyle, or unofficial performer) was not limited to genealogies and legends of great kings, lords, and heroes, but included ‘fairy-tales’, and stories of marvels, and magic. Nor was such matter beneath the attention of the highest, of kings.21 (2) that definite stories associated actually with a character called Beowulf were already known when our author wrote; so that allusions to them were sufficient.
I would myself make a further deduction, though that is far less certain; that such folk-tales were more or less nameless, but some had been attached to the name Beowulf already – that is, Beowulf was originally independent of them, and it is not therefore necessary (or probable) that the name is derived from the deeds or character of the folk-tale hero.
348–50 (Beowulf’s request to Hrothgar) that only I may, and my proud company of men, this dauntless company, make Heorot clean; *431–2 þæt ic móte ána [added: ond] mínra eorla gedryht, [MS ond] þes hearda héap, Heorot fǽlsian.
It is possible to view [ond] mínra . . . . . héap as an addition to show Beowulf’s courtesy to his companions, and to fit the courtly presentation of the story, in which in a more primitive form Beowulf would have met Grendel alone. The words certainly fit the story as told, for all the Geats sleep in the hall, but only Beowulf wrestles with Grendel. But I do not think that the author meant or implied more than just what he said. For one thing, it is possible, indeed likely, that in the form of the sellíc spell nearest behind this version Beowulf had companions and/or competitors in the hall when Grendel came.22 For another, more careful consideration of the text will lead, I think, to re-interpretation of ána.
If this were an auctorial addition to accommodate the story of a lone ‘bear-man’ champion to Beowulf a prince with a retinue, it would be extraordinarily poor stitching. There is in the manuscript no connecting link before mínra; but one is essential: gedryht and héap are nominatives, but different from ic. They are, however, themselves parallel and equivalents, and should not and certainly would not have had a connecting ond as in the manuscript. This has been misplaced and should be before mínra. If one insists on ána in the full sense, ‘I myself solo’, this remains, as I say, poor stitching, indeed almost absurd: ‘I beg that I all alone, and my troop of men etc., be permitted to rid Heorot.’ The perfunctory reference to his men becomes too obviously an afterthought to be either modest or indeed polite.
The solution lies, I think, in consideration of ána. This is not, as seems still universally stated, a weak adjective agreeing with (and thus solely applicable to) a singular noun. It is an adverb, which usually qualifies a singular noun, but does not necessarily do so. It can be found qualifying a group, separated from others. So the nearest translation of *431 is ‘that I only and my company be permitted’ (and no others) – i.e. the hall is to be cleared of all Danes.23 The verb móte naturally agrees with the adjacent ic, and this is placed first, because Beowulf is the leader, and as is plain from the beginning any hope of success depends on his personal strength. It is obvious that he, if anyone, will be actual victor over Grendel. So Hrothgar hands the hall over to him, 532–5, *655–8. But the gedryht was not supposed to be functionless, a mere escort of honour, and possible witnesses of the contest. Nobody (not even Beowulf) knew the outcome, within the tale; nor should we, if we could come to it without knowing the tale, and with a fresh appetite undulled by literary experience. The author has done what he could to make the issue doubtful: see especially 353–67, *438–55. What if Beowulf got into grave difficulties, or was overcome and slain? His companions would be in a like case to, say, Byrhtnoth’s heorðwerod [the men of his household]: they would have to fight on without hope, to avenge their leader, and redeem their honour (and Hygelac’s). They are plainly informed of that (though of course they knew it before they set sail) by Beowulf himself in 356–9, *442–5. Grendel will devour them all – if he can. And they very much feared that he could, and would. See 564–9, *691–6.
They started out, of course, with great confidence in Beowulf, though the rumours of Grendel had been terrible (119 ff., *149 ff.). I do not think it at all fanciful to suppose that ‘they had learned that a bloody death had ere now . . . swept away all too many of the Danish folk’ (567–9; híe hæfdon gefrúnen etc. *694 ff.) refers to what they had learned since arrival. Not only Unferth would be nettled by Beowulf’s proud (and contemptuous) words, especially 483–8, *595–601. And even if Beowulf had been milder, it would still be natural for the men in the hall to give the strangers the most horrible picture of Grendel and his ferocious deeds, for the saving of their faces. The young men went to bed with the gloomiest forebodings – not relieved by their leader’s sudden boast, to meet Grendel unarmed!
351 ff.; *435 ff. [Beowulf will not bear arms against Grendel]
Sometimes noted as ‘ingenious rationalization’, i.e. of the feature of primitive story that this wild-man or bear-boy only fought like an animal. But it is far from certain that such a feature does lie behind Beowulf, and in any case it must lie a long way back before our author, and before the attachment of ‘folk-tale’ to an actual character (with a kin).
Beowulf is not in fact represented as incapable of weapons. He goes fully armed. In youth he and Breca set out with naked swords (439, *539), and Beowulf kills a water-monster with a weapon (452–3, *556–7). Eventually he kills nine niceras with his sword (466–7, *574–5). Later he possesses a famous sword with a name, Nægling (2252, *2680). He was, however, terribly strong, and could (like indeed any heroic warrior!) fall into a mad rage. In the battle in which Hygelac fell Beowulf slew Dæghrefn the Frankish champion (slayer of his lord Hygelac?) with his hands,24 probably throttled him or broke his neck. For Beowulf does not hug or crush. His strength is specially in his hands and finger-grip. [Added later: But the words used of the slaying of Dæghrefn (2107–9, *2507–8) could apply to a deadly embrace in which Dæghrefn’s body was crushed, though they need not do so.] In his rage he is likely to break his sword by the sheer violence and strength of the blow: ‘too strong that hand, that as I have heard with its swing overtaxed each sword’ (2254–6, *2684–6).
Actually, if one approached the poem without bias from previous folk-tale records, Beowulf would seem to derive from the imagination of a coast and island peop
le, familiar with the sea, rather than forest and mountain; and he would seem more akin to – that is to say, to derive his legendary qualities from – sea-beasts. His greatest prowess is in swimming, and niceras are his special foes: not very bear-like.25
We may assume that the wizard/troll-like aspect of Grendel, which enabled him to render human weapons useless against himself, was supposed to be unknown to Beowulf. The idea is used later to explain why his men could not help him (647–55, *794–805). But a ‘magic’ or giant-made sword was found effective in Grendel’s cave.
358–9 the Gothic knights, the strong band of Hrethmen; *443–5 Geotena léode . . . . mægen Hréðmanna
These lines are very interesting – not for the poetry and narrative; but because accidentally, by the loss of so much Old English literature, every reference to old names of the heroic past is of special antiquarian interest. But enquiry is often made more difficult because by the time our late copy of Beowulf was made the ancient traditions were already becoming dim, and since they were obscure to copyists references to them were liable to corruption. Copyists of all times, in any case (and the two that made the Beowulf manuscript were no exceptions) are apt to bungle proper names.
So here, as far as can be discovered, Geotena is not the correct form of any Germanic or tribal name; and the question is, which known name will explain the scribal Geotena most credibly. A great deal of ink has been spilled on that question. But to my mind most of it had been better left in the bottle, and can now be washed out, since it has been used largely in aid of what can only be described as the ‘Jutish lunacy’ – ‘the Géatas are the Jutes’. Once you admit that queen-bee into your bonnet it will lay a hive of maggots there. I will not enter here into a discussion with those to whom this sad thing has happened. Even so, a great deal may be said. I will attempt to give a summary of the chief points.
The manuscript has mægen hreð manna. Old English scribes usually do not join compounds, so we are free to join them up or not, as seems fit. I approve the joining mægen Hréðmanna as a national name.
(1) hréþ is an Old English verse word (occurring by itself twice elsewhere). Variant forms hróþ and hróþor are also found. Also a verb hréðan ‘exult, triumph’. The basic sense was one of ‘sound’: ‘exultation, (shouting) in triumph’. The noun could form the first part of personal names: thus Hróþgar, Hréþric, Hróþulf. Norse sources show that these figures of Danish tradition really contained this element hróþ, but it was not applied to Scyldingas or Danes in general.
(2) An element hréþ- (never hróþ-) is, however, specially associated with ‘Goths’, O.E. Gotan. Thus Hréðgotan in the Old English poem Widsith and in Cynewulf’s poem Elene [footnote on p. 175]. In this sense (‘Goths’) hréþ can stand alone: so Hréþa here [army] = Goths in Elene.
(3) But this use of hréþ- is found to be a later alteration (in English) of a different element: O.E. hrǽd (Germanic *hraidi): (a) because hrǽd occurs in Widsith: Hrǽda here = Hréþa here; (b) because this O.E. hrǽd- corresponds to Old Norse hreið-, as in Hreiðgotar. In Norse this was later altered to Reiðgotar owing to the special association of the Goths with riding, and cavalry.
(4) Now we find the same element, and the same variation, among the Géatas. The oldest member of the Geatish royal line mentioned in Beowulf is Hréþel, but his name is also found in the forms Hrǽdles, Hrǽdlan.
This is significant, because many other points connect the Goths (Gotan) and the Géatas (Old Norse Gautar). (a) The Géatas/Gautar occupied an area in the south of what is now called Sweden. The Goths came from Sweden, and their name survives in Gotland, the large island off its east coast. (b) The two names are beyond doubt connected in origin: got/géat are in ablaut-relationship,26 just as e.g. goten, past participle ‘poured’, is with géat, past tense singular of the same verb. (c) The name Gautr is in Old Norse a frequent name for the god Óðinn (Woden), whose cult was especially connected with Goths. (d) Gaut appears in Gothic traditions at the head of the Gothic royal line of the Amalungs, to which Theodoric belonged. (e) I would add finally that Óðinn/Wóden was evidently originally a wind- or storm-god. We note that the Géatas are called Weder-Géatas or simply Wederas: Wind-Géatas, or Wind-folk; while the only plausible (and indeed clearly correct) etymology of the hrǽd/hreið element is to connect it with Old English and Old Norse hríð ‘storm’. (This is probably seen also in the Old English name for the month of March: hrædmonað, hredmonað, and also twice hreðmonað.)
It thus becomes very curious that we have here in one passage the name Hréðmanna and the form Geotena – not Géata. Quite briefly, it seems to me that much the most likely explanation of this is that in the text originally there stood Gotena. Probably, because the author derived the names from traditions recognizing the original identity of Goths and Géatas. Possibly, because the word hréð-manna (or hrǽd-) suggested ‘Goths’ to some intervening scribe or editor, while such old heroic words were still better remembered than in c. A.D. 1000. Our actual Geotena is thus a blend between Géata the word expected and Gotena the word in the copy. Just below we have a similar error in line *461 (373), manuscript Gara, where Géata was expected but the text had Wedera.27
359–64; *445–51
This insistence on the expense of keeping Beowulf, or of providing him with a fitting funeral is curious. Warriors and champions were, of course, expensive. They ate and drank much. In times of peace it was their chief occupation, in the intervals of other sports, horse-races, horse-fights, betting, rivalries and quarrels: if he kept a poor table, a king would soon earn a bad nickname (such as matar-illr ‘food-shabby’ in Old Norse). They had to be richly rewarded for deeds of valour: not to be free-handed in such cases was the worst fault in a king after the murder of kin or comrades. If engaged from among men of other tribes or lands they had to be paid for heavily (cf. 2099, *2496).28 All the same, when Beowulf offers (at a feast in which he is being honourably entertained and welcomed) the consolation to the king that feeding him will no longer be a matter of anxiety (sorgian *451 – a strong word, always referring to ‘cares’ which cause painful thought), this has a very odd ring. It sounds like an echo of the underlying folk-tale. At least (derived from this) it must already have been part of the character of Beowulf, as already known to the author’s audience, that he was a prodigious eater: even perhaps as much more voracious than the norm as was his thirty-fold strength greater. Humour is not obvious in Beowulf – it would indeed be out of place if obtrusive – but a careful reading will often detect irony in what is said, either within the tale itself or appreciable by its hearers. A fleeting smile might well here pass over the face of a listener (well versed in old tales), and a fleeting thought come: ‘the king did not realize what Beowulf’s upkeep would have cost!’29
359–60 in burial to shroud my head; *446 hafalan hýdan
This here means ‘give me funeral rites’, but the whole ceremony is indicated only by one item (a preliminary rite or custom); covering the head of the slain. This was not expensive. But the full rite of honour envisaged was burning on a pyre, with costly accompaniments. (Beowulf expressly reserves his corslet, which is not to go to the pyre, but to be returned to Hygelac.) Cf. the reference to Æschere, killed by Grendel’s mother, 1782 ff., *2124 ff., where it is said that the Danes could not lay him upon a pyre because he had been eaten30 – all save his head, 1185, *1420–1. There is possibly an irony therefore in hafalan hýdan. Beowulf did not realize that his head might be the only thing left of him.
367 Fate goeth ever as she must!; *455 Gǽð á wyrd swá hío scel!
It is a difficult matter to determine in any given passage containing wyrd: (1) how far it was more than grammatically ‘personalized’; (2) what precisely it ‘means’, that is, how far it had, or retained, for speakers or hearers any conscious ingredient of what we may call mytho-philosophical reflection in evidently well-known formulæ. But such questions would require too long an answer for this place. The matter of wyrd only concerns the c
riticism of Beowulf in particular in so far as it is concerned with the ‘theology’ of the author, and that requires a special disquisition or lecture, examining the references to Scripture, to heathendom, to God, or to ‘Fate’ in the poem. Anyone who is sufficiently interested in the poem, or in the mind and imagination of the period, can of course do that for himself. I would issue two warnings, obvious but often neglected.
(a) There is a dramatic element in the poem. It is most strongly seen in the conception of the characters of Beowulf and Hrothgar and their presentation. It is important to note whether ‘theological’ expressions occur in a speech by Beowulf, by Hrothgar, by some other ‘character’, or are used by the poet himself addressing his audience directly.
(b) Expressions involving Fate, Fortune, etc. are at all times liable to become formulæ, the content of which has evaporated. They become items of colloquial diction. Off-hand you cannot, if a man says ‘fortune favours the brave’, from that deduce his temper of mind, his beliefs or philosophy, if he has any, nor whether he would write fortune with a capital F, and has, even as a fancy, any imagination of a ‘person’, existing independently of himself and his inherited phrases, turning a wheel up or down in fits of caprice.
Most of the expressions concerning wyrd are tautologous, manifestly, or verbally concealed. Not because people were too stupid to perceive this, but because drawing attention to the inevitable tautology expresses a resigned or ‘fatalistic’ mood. This expression gǽð á wyrd swá hío scel is hardly more than a grammatical variation on che sará sará ‘what will be, will be’. Note that wyrd is a feminine noun, and it is more than probable that, if we translate the inevitable hío of Old English by the word she, we shall be greatly exaggerating the conscious degree of personification in the formula. wyrd is grammatically simply the verbal noun to weorðan, ‘turn out, become, happen’. The verb is here omitted, or gán ‘proceed’ is substituted; but in *2525–6 unc sceal weorðan . . . swá unc wyrd getéoð the tautology is verbally manifest: ‘to us it will happen . . . as happening appoints’ [translation of the poem, 2122–4, ‘to us . . . shall it be done . . . even as Fate . . . decrees to us’].
Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary, together with Sellic Spell Page 22
