Primitive people were lovers of music. The scop, who was both poet and singer, was held in high honor in the halls of every chieftain. His position was equal to that of the noblest thane. To the accompaniment of the harp, he sang at the Love of Song evening feasts the glorious deeds of his master and people. The word scop, like the word poet, means a maker, one who creates or composes his songs. There were also the gleemen, a humbler and more numerous class, who repeated the songs learned from others. Nothing in Anglo-Saxon poetry is more prominent than this love of song and of the harp. The harp was the "wood of delight"; singing was the "awakening of glee"; and the ability to sing was the "gift of joy.". No feast in the great hall was complete without the minstrel; when his harp sounded there was "joy of heroes." Sometimes the chief himself took the harp and sang, like Hrothgar in Beowulf, and sometimes even the retainers could add a lay when the harp was passed around, as is seen in the story of Cædmon. King Alfred loved the old songs of his people. The priests now and then used the harp and song to attract the people to their teaching. In thorp and hall the wandering minstrel trolled his songs of battle, tales of heroes, Bible stories, stories of saints, riddles, allegories, and moral proverbs. He was the nation's historian and teacher, and one of the chief instruments of the nation's progress from barbarism to civilization. The Oldest Literature It is an interesting coincidence that the oldest Poem in Our poem in English literature, and probably the oldest in any modern language, celebrates the poet's vocation. The poem is Widsith, the Far-wanderer, in which the scop describes his wanderings and the great folk and fine courts he has visited. Widsio mapelode, Thus he begins: wordhord onleac, mægþa ofer eorban, Oft he on flette gebah Widsith spoke, his word-hoard unlocked; he who of men the most, of people had journeyed. a friendly gift. of nations over the earth, Oft in the hall he received And in a happy spirit of self-content the scop concludes: Thus wandering widely through the world. Before his friends his fame would increase, Of earlship prove worthy, until all shall pass away, Shall under heaven have steadfast fame. The Minstrel's But the fame of the scop was not always steadfast, as appears in a poem closely associated with Widsith, called Deor's Lament. Here the minstrel is lamenting his misfortunes, for some more popular singer has supplanted him in the hall of his lord. The poem is of unique interest for its form; it is written in stanzas, and each stanza ends with a refrain, a feature elsewhere unknown in AngloSaxon poetry. In both form and substance it is a true lyric, the oldest in the language. The forlorn singer consoles himself with the thought of others who have been celebrated for their misfortunes. Each stanza recites an instance and ends with the comforting reflection: That was endured, so may I this. The greatest Anglo-Saxon poem is Beowulf, a splendid monument of the genius of our pagan ancestors, worthy to stand at the gateway of a noble national literature. It is a narrative poem of over three thousand lines, and is the oldest epic in any Teutonic language. The authorship, date, and place of composition are matters of speculation. Nothing in the poem indicates its origin in England; neither Angle nor Saxon is mentioned; its characters and scenery are entirely continental; and yet it is a true English poem-that is, a faithful presentation of the characteristics of the ancestors of the The Great Epic, race. The poem probably came to England in the sixth or seventh century in the form of popular ballads, celebrating the deeds of a great hero, Beowulf. These ballads in time were woven together into a connected whole, very much as the poems of Homer are believed to have originated. The single existing text of the poem-a precious Sa trutt par fean fah seis pisode sumin hond Locen hring iren (cip song, mseap A PORTION OF THE MANUSCRIPT OF BEOWULF treasure now in the British Museum-belongs to the tenth century. It was written by some literary monk or Christianized scop who grafted into the poem Christian ideas that contrast oddly with the heathen action and sentiment. Beowulf was a knight-errant born out of due time, and the story of his adventures runs thus: In the land of the Danes King Hrothgar has built a splendid meadhall called Heorot, "most glorious of dwellings under the heavens," in which he entertains his thanes right royally with feasting and minstrelsy. But his happiness is short-lived. Grendel, a terrible monster dwelling in a neighboring fen by the sea, bursts into the hall at night, seizes thirty thanes, and drags them to his sea-den to devour. This happens repeatedly for twelve years, and the king in deep sorrow abandons his beautiful hall. The story of this "dreadful The Story of distress, greatest of night-bales," is carried by the wandering minstrels to the land of the Geats in southern Sweden. Beowulf Beowulf, a nephew of King Hygelac and famous for his strength, determines to go to the assistance of King Hrothgar and "cleanse' Heorot. With fourteen faithful warriors he crosses the sea and finds a glad welcome at the court of the distressed king. The evening is spent in a great feast, with speech-making and song. “A bench was prepared in the hall for the Geat-men all together where the stronghearted hastened to sit, proud in their might. A thane did well his duty, bore in his hand a gold-adorned cup, poured the clear mead. Now and again sang the minstrel with clear voice in Heorot." The "high-born queen, gold-adorned" and "mindful of courtesy," with her own hand offers the mead-cup to Beowulf, who in proud wise speaks: This was my purpose, when I set forth on the sea, That forthwith the will of your people I would work, or in the battle fall, Fast in the fiend's grip. I will perform In the night when all are asleep, save the watchful chieftain, from the "misty slopes of the moor" Grendel comes stalking, in his eyes a "loathsome light likest to flame." The monster bursts in the ironbanded door, and as he looks upon the sleeping warriors The Fight he laughs in his heart. Quickly he seizes a warrior, with Grendel rends him in pieces and devours him. Then Beowulf lays his mighty hand-grip upon Grendel and there is a terrible contest and great confusion in the hall. The thanes draw their swords in vain, for the monster's hide cannot be pierced by steel; the mead-benches are overturned, the hall "cracked aloud," and "wonder it was that the fair folk-hall did not fall to ground." At last Beowulf wrenches off an arm and shoulder of the monster and he flees to his fen-home to die. Then "to Beowulf was battle-fame given." In the morning there is great thanksgiving and gift-giving, games, horse-races, and songs in praise of the wondrous victory. But the next night, when Beowulf is absent, Grendel's mother, a "mighty mere-woman," comes to the hall, seizes Hrothgar's dearest thane, and drags him to her sea-cavern. To the sorrowing Hrothgar Beowulf speaks a hero's consolation. "Sorrow not, wise man. 'Better it is to avenge a friend than to mourn him much. Let him who may win honor, and accept death when it comes; that is best for a warrior. I promise thee Grendel's kin shall not escape, either in earth's bosom or in ocean's depths. Patience with thy woes I expect from thee." They track the "sea-wolf" through the forest-paths to a deep sea-gorge where a whirlpool flings its black and poisonous waters into the sky. The Fight with Grendel's Mother Beowulf plunges into the pool and engages in deadly struggle with the "mighty water-wife" in her ocean hall. His trusted sword, Hrunting, proves to be useless; but just at the point of death he finds a magic blade, with which he strikes off the monster's head. And a strange light from the “blade's beam shone,” just as "from heaven brightly doth shine the firmament's candle." Near by he discovers the dead body of Grendel and severs his head, and then a wonder happens; in the hot and poisonous blood the sword blade melts entirely away, 'as an icicle melts when the frost fetters are unloosed." The Triumphant Hero 66 All day long his faithful thanes have waited, heart-sick with gazing on the blood-stained waters, thinking never to see their dear lord again. At length Beowulf appears, and in triumph they carry the head of Grendel to the gold-hall and present to the king this token of victory. Thus ends the “deathplague of the Danes." Again there is rejoicing in Heorot, and presenting of rich gifts to the Geats, with fine speeches of praise and farewell. As the sea farers" depart, the white-haired king with flowing tears kisses Beowulf; "so dear was the man that his breastflood he could not restrain.' Beowulf's In the action of the poem there is now a break of about sixty years. Beowulf has become King of the Geats and for fifty years has ruled them in peace and happiness. But a sore distress, which only he can remove, has fallen upon his people. In a high stone barrow a treasure hoard has been guarded for three hundred years by a fire-breathing dragon. Because a lawless thane has stolen a golden cup from the hoard, the dragon is ravaging the land. Last Adven- To save his people, Beowulf seeks the monstrous "worm" in its lair, and in killing it receives his death-wound. The treasures are brought forth from the cave. win these things for my people," he says, "I have paid my old life." The sorrowing thanes build a funeral pyre upon which his body is burned, and on a high bluff they raise a great mound, to be forever known as Beowulf's Barrow to the “sea farers as they drive their barks from afar through the mists of the ocean." And so the story ends with praises of the great hero: ture Thus mourned the men of the Geats The fall of their lord, the hearth-companion, Of men the mildest and most gracious, To his people the kindest, and most eager for praise. "To |