Chapter 13

Ȳtum [weold] GefwulfFin Folcwalding Frēsna cynne.

Ȳtum [weold] Gefwulf

Fin Folcwalding Frēsna cynne.

(2) There is another passage inBeowulfin whichEotenasis possibly used in the sense of "Jutes."

We have seen above[461]that according to a Scandinavian tradition Lotherus was exiledin Jutiam: and Heremod, who has been held to be the counterpart of Lotherus

mid Eotenumwearðon fēonda geweald forð forlācen.

mid Eotenumwearð

on fēonda geweald forð forlācen.

But the identification of Lotherus and Heremod is too hypothetical to carry the weight of much argument.

(3) Finn comes into many Old English pedigrees, which have doubtless borrowed from one another. But the earliest in which we find him, and the only one in which we find his father Folcwald, is that of the Jutish kings of Kent[462]. Here, too, the name Hengest meets us.

The view that the name "Eoten" in theFinnsburgstory is a form of the word "Jute" is, then, one which is very difficult to reject. It is one which has in the past been held by many scholars and is, I think, held by all who have recently expressed any opinion on the subject[463]. But this renders very difficult the assumption of Bugge and his followers that the word "Eoten" is synonymous with "Frisian[464]." For Frisians were not Jutes.The tribes were closely related; but the two words were not synonymous. The very lines inWidsith, which couple Jutes and Frisians together, as if they were related in story, show that the names were regarded as those of distinct tribes. And this evidence fromWidsithis very important, because the compiler of that list of names clearly knew the story of Finn and Hnæf.

But this is not the only difficulty in Bugge's interpretation of the Eotens as Frisians. The outbreak of war, we are told, is due to the treachery of the Eotens. This Bugge and his followers interpret as meaning that Finn must have treacherously attacked Hnæf. Yet the poet speaks of "the warriors of Finn when the sudden danger fell upon them":þā hīē se fǣr begeat. It is essential tofǣrthat it signifies a sudden and unexpected attack[465]: and the unexpected attack must have come, not upon the assailants but upon the assailed.

Yet this difficulty, though it has been emphasized by Möller[466]and other opponents of Bugge's view, is not insuperable[467], and I hope to show below that there is no real difficulty. But it leads us to a problem not so easily surmounted. If Finn made a treacherous attack upon Hnæf, and slew him, how did it come that Hengest, and Hnæf's other men, made terms with their murderous host?

In the primitive heathen days it had been a rule that the retainer must not survive his vanquished lord[468]. The ferocity of this rule was subsequently softened, and, in point of fact, wedooften hear, after some great leader has been slain, of his followers accepting quarter from a chivalrous foe, without beingtherefore regarded as having acted disgracefully[469]. But, if Finn had invited Hnæf and Hnæf's retainers to be his guests, and had fallen upon them by treachery, the action of the retainers in coming to terms with Finn, in entering his service, and stipulating how much of his pay they shall receive, would be contrary to all standards of conduct as understood in the Heroic Age, and would deprive Hnæf's men of any sympathy the audience might feel for them. But Hnæf's men are not censured: they are in fact treated most sympathetically in theEpisode, and in theFragment, at an earlier point in the story, they are enthusiastically applauded[470].

It is strange enough in any case that Hnæf's retainers should make terms with the slayer of their lord. But it is not merely strange, it is absolutely unintelligible, if we are to suppose that Finn has not merely slain Hnæf, but has lured him into his power, and then slain him while a guest.

It is to the credit of Bugge that he felt this difficulty: but his attempt to explain it is hardly satisfactory. He fell back upon a parallel between the story of the death of Rolf Kraki and the story ofFinnsburg. We have already seen that the resemblance is very close between theBjarkamál, which narrates the death of Rolf, and the opening of theFinnsburg Fragment. The parallel which Bugge invoked comes from the sequel to the Rolf story[471]which tells how Hiarwarus, the murderer of Rolf Kraki, astonished by the devotion of Rolf's retainers, lamented their death, and said how gladly he would have given quarter to such men, and taken them into his service. Thereupon Wiggo, the one survivor, who had previously vowed to avenge his lord, and had concealed himself with that object, came forward and offered to accept these terms. Accordingly he placed his hand upon the hilt of his new master's drawn sword, as if about to swear fealty to him: but instead of swearing, he ran him through.

"Glorious and ever memorable hero, who valiantly kept his vow," says Saxo[472]. Whether or no we share the exultation ofthat excellent if somewhat bloodthirsty ecclesiastic, we must admit that Wiggo's methods were sensible and practical. If, singlehanded, he was to keep his vow, and avenge his lord, he could only hope to do it by some such stratagem.

Bugge tries to explain Hengest's action on similar lines: "He does not hesitate to enter the service of Finn in order thereby to carry out his revenge[473]."

But the circumstances are entirely different. Wiggo was left alone, the only survivor of Rolf's household, to face a whole army. But Hengest is no single survivor: he and his fellows have made so good a defence that Finn cannot overcome them by conflict on themeðel-stede. Not only so, but, if we accept the interpretation that almost every critic and editor has put upon the passage (ll. 1184-5), Hengest's position is even stronger. Finn has lost almost all his thegns; the usual interpretation puts him at the mercy of Hengest: at best it is a draw[474]. If, then, Hengest wants vengeance upon Finn, why does he not pursue it? Instead of which, according to Bugge, he enters Finn's service in order that he may get an opportunity for revenge.

And note, that Wiggo did not swear the oath of fealty to the murderer of his master Rolf: he merely put himself in the posture to do so, and then, instead, ran the tyrant through forthwith. But Hengestdoesswear the oath, anddoes notforthwith slay the tyrant. He spends the winter with him, receives a sword from Hunlafing, after which his name does not occur again. Finn is ultimately slain, but the names which are found in that connection are those of Guthlaf and Oslaf [Ordlaf].

So Bugge's explanation comes to this: Hengest is fighting with success against Finn, but he refrains from vengeance: instead, he treacherously enters his service in order that he may take an opportunity of vengeance, which opportunity, however, it is never made clear to us that he takes.

Had Hengest been a man of that kind, he would not have been a hero of Old English heroic song.

Section VI. Recent Elucidations. Prof. Ayres' Comments

It is one of the merits of Bugge's view—one of the proofs of its general soundness—that it admits of successive improvements at the hands of succeeding commentators. No one has done more in this way than has Prof. Ayres to clear up the story, particularly the latter part of theEpisode. Ayres evolves unity out of what had been before "a rapid-fire of events that hit all around a central tragic situation and do not once touch it." Hengest does not, Ayres thinks, enter the service of Finn with any such well-formed plan of revenge as Bugge had attributed to him. Hengest was in a difficult situation. It is his mental conflict, "torn between his oath to Finn and his duty to the dead Hnæf," which gives unity to all that follows. It is a tragedy of Hengest, hesitating, like Shakespeare's Hamlet, over the duty of revenge. Prof. Ayres' statement here is too good to summarize; it must be quoted at length:

"How did he feel during that long, blood-stained winter? He naturally thought about home (eard gemunde, 1129), but there was no question of sailing then, no need yet of decision while the storm roared outside. By and by spring came round, as it has a way of doing. How did he feel then? Then, like any other Northerner, he wanted to put to sea:fundode wrecca,gist of geardum.That is what he would naturally do. He would speak to Finn and be off; in the spring his business was on the sea. That is all right as to Finn, but as to the dead Hnæf it is very like running away; it is postponing vengeance sadly. Will he prove so unpregnant of his cause as that? No; though he would like to go to sea, he thoughtratherof vengeance, and staid in the hope of managing a successful surprise against Finn and his people:hē tō gyrn-wræceswīðor þōhte þonne tō sǣ-lāde,gif hē torn-gemōt þurhtēon mihte,þæt hē Eotena bēarn inne gemunde.All this says clearly that Hengest was thinking things over, whether he should or should not take vengeance upon Finn; it tells us also very clearly, with characteristic anticipation of the outcome of the story, that in the end desire for vengeance carried the day:Swā hē ne-forwyrnde worold-rǣdenne,he did notthusprove recreant to his duty. But we have not been told the steps by which Hengest arrived at his decision. That seemsto be what we should naturally want to know at this point, and that is precisely what we are about to be told. Occasions gross as earth informed against him[475]."

fundode wrecca,gist of geardum.

fundode wrecca,

gist of geardum.

That is what he would naturally do. He would speak to Finn and be off; in the spring his business was on the sea. That is all right as to Finn, but as to the dead Hnæf it is very like running away; it is postponing vengeance sadly. Will he prove so unpregnant of his cause as that? No; though he would like to go to sea, he thoughtratherof vengeance, and staid in the hope of managing a successful surprise against Finn and his people:

hē tō gyrn-wræceswīðor þōhte þonne tō sǣ-lāde,gif hē torn-gemōt þurhtēon mihte,þæt hē Eotena bēarn inne gemunde.

hē tō gyrn-wræce

swīðor þōhte þonne tō sǣ-lāde,

gif hē torn-gemōt þurhtēon mihte,

þæt hē Eotena bēarn inne gemunde.

All this says clearly that Hengest was thinking things over, whether he should or should not take vengeance upon Finn; it tells us also very clearly, with characteristic anticipation of the outcome of the story, that in the end desire for vengeance carried the day:

Swā hē ne-forwyrnde worold-rǣdenne,

he did notthusprove recreant to his duty. But we have not been told the steps by which Hengest arrived at his decision. That seemsto be what we should naturally want to know at this point, and that is precisely what we are about to be told. Occasions gross as earth informed against him[475]."

Then Ayres goes on to explain the "egging," through the presentation of a sword by Hunlafing. This feature of the story is now pretty generally so understood; but Ayres has an interpretation of the part played by Guthlaf and Oslaf, which is new and enlightening.

"Hengest's almost blunted purpose was not whetted by Hunlafing alone. The latter's uncles, Guðlaf and Oslaf [Ordlaf] took occasion to mention to Hengest the fierce attack (the one, presumably, in which Hnæf had fallen); cast up to him all the troubles that had befallen them ever since their disastrous sea-journey to Finnsburg; they had plenty of woes to twit him with:siððan grimne gripe Gūðlāf and Ōslāfæfter sǣ-sīðe sorge mǣndon,ætwiton wēana dǣl.The effect of all this on Hengest is cumulative. Where he was before in perfect balance, he is now wrought to action by the words of his followers; he can control himself no longer; the balance is destroyed. The restless spirit (Hengest's in the first instance, but it may be thought of as referring to the entire attacking party, now of one mind) could no longer restrain itself within the breast:ne meahte wǣfre mōdforhabban in hreðre.Vengeance wins the day[476]."

siððan grimne gripe Gūðlāf and Ōslāfæfter sǣ-sīðe sorge mǣndon,ætwiton wēana dǣl.

siððan grimne gripe Gūðlāf and Ōslāf

æfter sǣ-sīðe sorge mǣndon,

ætwiton wēana dǣl.

The effect of all this on Hengest is cumulative. Where he was before in perfect balance, he is now wrought to action by the words of his followers; he can control himself no longer; the balance is destroyed. The restless spirit (Hengest's in the first instance, but it may be thought of as referring to the entire attacking party, now of one mind) could no longer restrain itself within the breast:

ne meahte wǣfre mōdforhabban in hreðre.

ne meahte wǣfre mōd

forhabban in hreðre.

Vengeance wins the day[476]."

By this interpretation Ayres has, as he claims, "sharpened some of the features" of the current interpretation of the Finn story. For, as he says, "in some respects the current version was very unsatisfactory; there seemed to be little relation between the presentation of the sword to Hengest and the spectacle of Guðlaf and Oslaf howling their complaints in the face of Finn."

That Ayres' interpretation enhances the coherency of the story is beyond dispute: that it does so at the cost of putting some strain upon the text in one or two places may perhaps be urged[477]. But that in its main lines it is correct seems to me certain: the story of Finnsburg is the tragedy of Hengest—his hesitation and his revenge. Keeping this well in view, many of the difficulties disappear.

Section VII. Problems still outstanding

Many of the difficulties disappear: but the two big ones remain. Firstly, if "Eoten" means "Jute," as it is usually agreed that it does, why should the Frisians be called Jutes, seeing that a Frisian is not a Jute? Secondly, when Hengest and the other thegns of Hnæf enter the service of the slayer of their lord, they are not blamed for so doing, but rather excused,þā him swā geþearfod wæs. Such a situation is unusual; but it becomes incredible if that slayer, whose service they enter, had fallen upon and slain their lord by treachery, when his guest.

It seems to me that neither of these difficulties is really inherent in the situation, but rather accidental, and owing to the way Bugge's theory, right enough in its main lines, has been presented both by Bugge and his followers. For it is not necessary to assume that FrisiansarecalledEotenasor Jutes. All that we are justified in deducing from the text is that Frisians andEotenasare both under the command of Finn. If we suppose what the text demands,and no more, we are at one stroke relieved of both our difficulties. Though "Jute" can hardly have been synonymous with "Frisian," nothing is more probable, as I shall try to show[478], than that a great Frisian king should have had a tribe of Jutes subject to him, or should have had in his pay a band of Jutish mercenaries. Now if the trouble was due to these "Eotens"—and we are told that it was[479]—our second difficulty is also solved. It would be much more natural for Hengest to come to terms with Finn, albeit thebanaof his lord, if Finn's conduct had not been stained by treachery, and if the blame for the original attack did not rest with him.

And, as I have said, there is nothing in the text which justifies us in assuming thatEotenasmeans "Frisians" and that thereforeEotena trēowerefers to Finn's breach of faith. It has indeed been argued thatEotenasand Frisians are synonymous,because in the terms of peace, whilst it is stipulated that Hengest and his comrades are to have equal control with theEotena bearn, it is further stipulated that Finn is to give Hengest's men gifts equal to those which he gives to theFrēsena cynn[480]. Here thenEotena bearnandFrēsena cynnare certainly parallel, and are both contrasted with Hengest and his troops. But surely this in no wise provesEotena bearnandFrēsena cynnsynonymous: they may equally well be different sections of Finn's host, just as inBrunanburhthe soldiers of Athelstan are spoken of first asWestseaxe, and then asMyrce. Are we to argue that West-Saxons are Mercians? So in the account of Hygelac's fatal expedition[481]the opponents are called Franks, Frisians,Hūgas,Hetware. A reader ignorant of the story might suppose these all synonymous terms for one tribe. But we know that they are not: theHetwarewere the people immediately attacked—the Frankish overlord hastened to the rescue, and was apparently helped by the neighbouring Frisians, who although frequently at this date opposed to the Franks, would naturally make common cause against the pirate from overseas[482].

It was quite natural that the earlier students of theFinnsburg Episode, thinking of the two opposing forces as two homogeneous tribes, and finding mention of three tribal names, Danes, Eotens and Frisians, should have assumed that the Eotens must be exactly synonymous witheitherDanesorFrisians. But it is now recognized that the conditions of the time postulate not so much tribes as groups of tribes[483]. In theFragmentwe have, on the side of the Danes,Sigeferth, prince of theSecgan. TheSecganare not necessarily Danes, because their lord is fighting on the Danish side. Neither need theEotenasbe Frisians, because they are fighting on the Frisian side.

We cannot, then, argue that two tribes are identical, because engaged in fighting a common foe: still less, because they arementioned with a certain parallelism[484]. And anyway, it is impossible to find in the use of the expressionEotena bearnin l. 1088 any support for the interpretation which makesEotena trēowesignify the treachery of Finn himself. For, assuredly, the proviso that Hengest and his fellows are to have half control as against theEotena bearndoes not mean that they are to have half control as against Finn himself. For the very next lines make it clear that they are to enter Finn's service and become his retainers. That Hengest and his men are to have equal rights with Finn's Jutish followers (Eotena bearn) is reasonable enough: but they obviously have not equal rights with Finn, their lord whom they are now to follow.Eotena bearnin l. 1088, then, doesnotinclude Finn: howcanit then be used as an argument thatEotena trēowemust refer toFinn'sfaith and his breach of it?

Finn, then, is thebanaof Hnæf, but there is nothing in the text which compels us to assume that he is the slayer of his guest.

The reader may regard my zeal to clear the character of Finn as excessive. But it is always worth while to understand a good old tale. And it is only when we withdraw our unjust aspersions upon Finn's good faith that the tale becomes intelligible.

This, I know, has been disputed, and by the scholars whose opinion I most respect.

The poet tells us that Finn was thebanaof Hnæf, so, says Ayres, "it is hard to see how it helps matters[485]" to argue that Finn was not guilty of treachery. And Lawrence argues in the same way:

"How is it possible to shift the blame for the attack from Finn to the Eotenas when Finn is called thebanaof Hnæf? It does not matter whether he killed him with his own hands or not; he is clearly held responsible; the lines tell us it was regarded as disgraceful for theDanes to have to follow him, and the revenge at the end falls heavily upon him. The insult and hurt to Danish pride would be very little lessened by the assumption that someone else started the quarrel; and for this assumption, too, the lines give no warrant[486]."

Let us take these objections in turn. I do not see how the fact that Finn is called thebanaof Hnæf can proveanythingas to "the blame for the attack." Of course the older editors may have thought so. Kemble translatesbana"slaughterer," which implies brutality, and perhaps culpability. Bosworth-Toller rendersbana"murderer," which certainly implies blame for attack. But we know that these are mere mistranslations. Nothing as to "blame for attack" is implied in the termbana: "bana'slayer' is a perfectly neutral word, and must not be translated by 'murderer,' or any word connoting criminality. A man who slays another in self-defence, or in righteous execution of the law, is still his 'bane'[487]." Everyone admits this to be true: and yet at the same timebanais quoted to prove that Finn is to blame; because, for want of a better word, we half-consciously renderbana"murderer": and "murderer"doesimply blame. "Words," says Bacon, "as a Tartar's bow, do shoot back upon the understanding of the wisest."

Lawrence continues: "The lines tell us that it was regarded as disgraceful for the Danes to have to follow him." But surely this is saying too much. That the Frisians are not to taunt the Danes with following the slayer of their lord is only one of two possible interpretations of the ll. 1101-3. And even if we accept this interpretation, it does not follow that the Danes are regarded as having done anything with which they can bejustlytaunted. It is part of the settlement between Gunnar and Njal, that Njal's sons are not to be taunted: if a man repeats the taunts he shall fall unavenged[488]. Surely a man may be touchy about being taunted, without being regarded as having done anything disgraceful. Indeed, in our case, the poet implies that taunts wouldnotbe just,þā him swā geþearfod wæs. But, as I try to show below, noþearfcould have excused the submission of retainers to a foe who had just slain their lord by deliberate treachery.

"The revenge at the end falls heavily upon Finn." It does; as so often happens where the feud is temporarily patched up, it breaks out again, as in the stories of Alboin, Ingeld or Bolli. But this does not prove that the person upon whom the revenge ultimately falls heavily had been a guest-slayer. The possibility of even temporary reconciliation rather implies the reverse.

"The insult and hurt to Danish pride would be very little lessened by the assumption that someone else [than Finn] started the quarrel; and for this assumption, too, the lines give no warrant." But theydo: for they tell us that it was due to the bad faith of the Eotens. Commentators may argue, if they will, that "Eotens" means Finn. But the weight of proof lies on them, and they have not met it, or seriously attempted to meet it.

Section VIII. The Weight of Proof: The Eotens

Finn is surely entitled to be held innocent till he can be proved guilty. And the argument for his guilt comes to this: the trouble was due to the bad faith of the Eotens: "Eotens" means "Jutes": "Jutes" means "Frisians": "Frisians" means "Finn": therefore the trouble was due to the treachery of Finn.

Now I agree that it is probable thatEotenasmeans Jutes; and, as I have said, there is nothing improbable in a Frisian king having had a clan of Jutes, or a body of Jutish mercenaries, subject to him. But that the Frisians as a whole should be called Jutes is,per se, exceedingly improbable, and we have no shadow of evidence for it. Lawrence tries to justify it by the authority of Siebs:

"Siebs, perhaps the foremost authority on Frisian conditions, conjectures that ... the occupation by the Frisians of Jutish territory after the conquest of Britain assisted the confusion between the two names."

Butdidthe Frisians occupy Jutish territory? When we ask what is Siebs' authority for the hypothesis that Frisians occupied Jutish territory, we find it to be this: that because inBeowulf"Jute" means "Frisian," some such event must have taken place to account for this nomenclature[489]. So it comes to this: the Frisians must have been called Jutes, because they occupiedJutish territory: the Frisians must have occupied Jutish territory because they are called Jutes. I do not think we could have a better example of what Prof. Tupper calls "philological legend."

Siebs rejects Bede's statement, which places the Jutes in what is now Jutland: he believes them to have been immediately adjacent to the Frisians. For this belief that the Jutes were immediate neighbours of the Frisians there is, of course, some support, though not of a very convincing kind: but the belief that the Frisians occupied the territory of these adjacent Jutes rests, so far as I know, solely upon this identification of theEotenas-Jutes with the Frisians, which it is then in turn used to prove.

But if by Jutes we understand (following Bede) a people dwelling north of the Angles, in or near the peninsula of Jutland, then it is of course true that (at a much later date) a colony of Frisiansdidoccupy territory which is near Jutland, and which is sometimes included in the name "Jutland." But, as I have tried to show above, this "North Frisian" colony belongs to a period much later than that of the Finn-story: we have no reason whatever to suppose that the Frisians of the Finn story are the North Frisians of Sylt and the adjoining islands and mainland—theFrisiones qui habitabant Juthlandie[490].

And when we have assumed, without evidence, that, at the period with which we are dealing, Frisians had occupied Jutish territory, we are then further asked to assume that, from this settlement in Jutish territory, such Frisians came to be called Jutes. Now this is an hypothesisper seconceivable, but very improbable. Throughout the whole Heroic Age, for a thousand years after the time of Tacitus, Germanic tribes were moving, and occupying the territory of other people. During this period, how many instances can we find in which a tribe took the name of the people whose territory it occupied? Even where the name of the new home is adopted, the old tribal name isnotadopted. For instance, the Bavarians occupied the territory of the Celtic Boii, but they did not call themselves Boii, but Bai(haim)varii, "the dwellers in the land of the Boii"—a verydifferent thing. In the same way the Jutes who settled in the land of the Cantii did not call themselvesKente, butCantware, "dwellers in Cantium." Of course, where the old name of a country survives, it does oftenin the long runcome to be applied to its new inhabitants; but this takes many ages. It was not till a good thousand years after the English had conquered the land of the Britons, that Englishmen began to speak and think of themselves as "Britons." In feudal or 18th century days all the subjects of the ruler of Britain, Prussia, Austria, may come to be called British, Prussians, Austrians. But this is no argument for the period with which we are dealing. The assumption, then, that a body of Frisians, simply because they inhabited land which had once been inhabited by Jutes, should have called themselves Jutes, is so contrary to all we know of tribal nomenclature at this date, that one could only accept it if compelled by very definite evidence to do so. And of such evidence there is no scrap[491]. Neither is there a scrap of evidence for the underlying hypothesis that any Frisiansweresettled at this date in Jutish territory.

And as if this were not hypothetical enough, a further hypothesis has then to be built upon it: viz., that this name "Jutes," belonging to such of the Frisians as had settled in Jutish territory, somehow became applicable to Frisians as a whole. Now this might conceivably have happened, but only as a result of certain political events. If the Jutish Frisians had become the governing element in Frisia, it would be conceivable. But after all, we know something about Frisian history, and I do notthink we are at liberty to assume any such changes as would have enabled the Frisian people, as a whole, to be called Jutes. How is it that we never get any hint anywhere of this Jutish preponderance and Jutish ascendancy?

The argument that the "treachery of the Jutes" means the treachery of Finn, King of the Frisians, has, then, no support at all.

One further argument there is, for attributing treason to Finn.

It has been urged that in other stories a husband entraps and betrays the brother of his wife. But we are not justified in reading pieces of one story into another, unless we believe the two stories to be really connected. The Signy of theVǫlsunga Sagahas been quoted as a parallel to Hildeburh[492]. Signy leaves the home of her father Volsung and her brother Sigmund to wed King Siggeir. Siggeir invites the kin of his wife to visit him, and then slays Volsung and all his sons, save Sigmund. But it is the difference of the story, rather than its likeness, which is striking. No hint is ever made of any possibility of reconciliation between Siggeir and the kin of the men he has slain. The feud admits of no atonement, and is continued to the utterance. Siggeir's very wife helps her brother Sigmund to his revenge.

How different from the attitude of Sigmund and Signy is the willingness of Hengest to come to terms, and the merely passive and elegiac bearing of Hildeburh! These things do not suggest that we ought to read a King Siggeir treachery into the story of Finn.

Again, the fact that Atli entices the brother of his wife into his power, has been urged as a parallel. But surely it is rather unfair to erect this into a kind of standard of conduct for the early Germanic brother-in-law, and to assume as a matter of course that, because Finn is Hnæf's brother-in-law, therefore he must have sought to betray him. The whole atmosphere of the Finn-Hnæf story, with its attempted reconciliation, is as opposed to that of the story of Atli as it is to the story of Siggeir.

The only epithet applied to Finn isferhð-freca, "valiant in soul." Thoughfrecais not necessarily a good word, and is applied to the dragon as well as to Beowulf, yet it denotes grim, fierce, almost reckless courage. It does not suggest a traitor who invites his foes to his house, and murders them by night.

I interpret the lines, then, as meaning that the trouble arose from the Jutes, and, since the context shows that these Jutes were on Finn's side, and against the Danes, we must hold them to be a body of Jutes in the service of Finn[493].

Section IX. Ethics of the Blood Feud

But, as we have seen, it is objected that this interpretation of the situation, absolving Finn from any charge of treachery or aggression, does not "help matters[494]." Or, as Prof. Lawrence puts it, "the hurt to Danish pride [in entering the service of Finn] would be very little lessened by the assumption that someone else [than Finn] started the quarrel."

These objections seem to me to be contrary to the whole spirit of the old heroic literature.

I quite admit that there is a stage in primitive society when the act of slaying is everything, and the circumstances, or motives, do not count. In the Levitical Law, it is taken for granted that, if a man innocently causes the death of another, as for instance if his axe break, and the axe-head accidentally kill his comrade, then the avenger of blood will seek to slay the homicide, just as much as if he had been guilty of treacherous murder. To meet such cases the Cities of Refuge are established, where the homicide may flee till his case can be investigated; but even though found innocent, the homicide may be at once slain by the avenger, should he step outside the City of Refuge. And this "eye for eye" vengeance yields slowly: it took long to establish legally in our own country the distinction between murder and homicide.

For "The thought of man" it was held "shall not be tried: as the devil himself knoweth not the thought of man." Nevertheless, even the Germanicwer-gildsystem permits consideration of circumstances: it often happens that nower-gildis to be paid because the slain man has been unjust, or the aggressor[495], or nower-gildwill be accepted because the slaying was under circumstances making settlement impossible.

Doubtless in Germanic barbarism there was once a stage similar to that which must have preceded the establishment of the Cities of Refuge in Israel[496]; but that stage had passed before the period with which we are dealing; in the Heroic Age the motivedidcount for a very great deal. Not but what there were still the literal people who insisted upon "an eye for an eye," without looking at circumstances; and these people often had their way; but their view is seldom the one taken by the characters with whom the poet or the saga-man sympathises. These generally hold a more moderate creed. One may almost say that the leading motive in heroic literature is precisely this difference of opinion between the people who hold that under any circumstances it is shameful to come to an agreement with thebanaof one's lord or friend or kinsman, and the people who are willingunder certain circumstancesto come to such an agreement.

It happens not infrequently that after some battle in which a great chief has been killed, his retainers are offered quarter, and accept it; but I do not remember any instance of their doing this if, instead of an open battle, it is a case of a treacherous attack. The two most famous downfalls of Northern princes afford typical examples: after the battle of Svold, Kolbjorn Stallari accepts quarter from Eric, the chivalrousbaniof his lord Olaf[497]; but Rolf's men refuse quarter after the treacherous murder of their lord by Hiarwarus[498].

That men, after a fair fight, could take quarter from, or give it to, those who had slain their lord or closest kinsman, is shown by abundant references in the sagas and histories. For instance, when Eric, after the fight with the Jomsvikings, offers quarter to his prisoners, that quarter is accepted, even though their leaders, their nearest kin, and their friends have been slain. The first to receive quarter is young Sigurd, whose father Bui has just been killed: yet the writer obviously does not the less sympathize with Sigurd, or with the other Jomsviking survivors, and feels the action to be generous on the part of Eric, and in no wise base on the part of the Jomsvikings[499]. But this is natural, because the Jomsvikings have just been defeated by Eric in fair fight. It would be impossible, if Eric were represented as a traitor, slaying the Jomsvikings by a treacherous attack, whilst they were his guests. Is it to be supposed that Sigurd, under such circumstances, would have taken quarter from the slayer of Bui his father?

In theLaxdæla Saga, Olaf the Peacock, in exacting vengeance for the slaying of his son Kjartan, shows no leniency towards the sons of Osvif, on whom the moral responsibility rests. But he accepts compensation in money from Bolli, who had been drawn into the feud against his will. Yet Bolli was the actual slayer of Kjartan, and he had taken the responsibility as such[500]. And Olaf is not held to have lowered himself by accepting a money payment as atonement from the slayer of his son—on the contrary "he was considered to have grown in reputation" from having thus spared Bolli. But after Olaf's death, the feud bursts out again, and revenge in the end falls heavily upon Bolli[501], as it does upon Finn.

On this question a fairly uniform standard of feeling will be found from the sixth century to the thirteenth. That itdoesmake all the difference in composing a feud, whether the slaying from which the feud arises was treacherous or not, can be abundantly proved from many documents, from Paul the Deacon, and possibly earlier, to the Icelandic Sagas. Such composition of feuds may or may not be lasting; it may or maynot expose to taunt those who make it; but the questions which arise are precisely these: Who started the quarrel? Was the slaying fair or treacherous? Upon the answer depends the possibility of atonement. There may be some insult and hurt to a man's pride in accepting atonement, even in cases where the other side has much to say for itself. But if the slaying has been fair, composition is felt to be possible, though not without danger of the feud breaking out afresh.

Prof. Lawrence has suggested that perhaps, in the original version of theFinnsburgstory, the Danes were reduced to greater straits than is represented to be the case in the extantBeowulf Episode. He thinks that it is "almost incomprehensible" that Hengest should make terms with Finn, if he had really reduced Finn and his thegns to such a degree of helplessness as the words of theEpisodestate. It seems to me that the matter depends much more upon the treachery or the honesty of Finn. If Finn was guilty of treachery and slaughter of his guests, then itis"unintelligible" that Hengest should spare him: but if Finn was really a respectable character, then the fact that Hengest was making headway against him is rather a reason why Hengest should be moderate, than otherwise. To quote theLaxdæla Sagaagain: though Olaf the Peacock lets off Bolli, thebaniof his son Kjartan, with a money payment, he makes it clear that he is master of the situation, before he shows this mercy. Paradoxical as it sounds, it was often easier for a man to show moderation in pursuing a blood feud, justbecausehe was in a strong position. It is so again in theSaga of Thorstein the White. But the adversary must be one who deserves to be treated with moderation.

Of course it is quite possible that Prof. Lawrence is right, and that in some earlier and more correct version the Danes may have been represented as so outnumbered by the Frisians that they had no choice except to surrender to Finn, and enter his service, or else to be destroyed. But, whether this be so or no, all parallel incidents in the old literature show that their choice between these evil alternatives will depend upon whether Finn, thebanaof their lord, slew that lord by deliberate and premeditated treachery whilst he was his guest, or whether hewas embroiled with him through the fault of others, under circumstances which were perfectly honourable. If the latter is the case, then Hnæf's menmightaccept quarter. Their position is comparable with that of Illugi at the end of theGrettis Saga[502]. Illugi is a prisoner in the hands of the slayers of Grettir and he charges them with having overcome Grettir, when already on the point of death from a mortifying wound, which they had inflicted on him by sorcery and enchantment. The slayers propose to Illugi terms parallel to those made to the retainers of Hnæf. "I will give thee thy life," says their leader, "if thou wilt swear to us an oath not to take vengeance on any of those who have been in this business."

Now, note the answer of Illugi: "That might have seemed to me a matter to be discussed, if Grettir had been able to defend himself, and if ye had overcome him with valour and courage; but now it is not to be looked for that I will save my life by being such a coward as art thou. In a word, no man shall be more harmful to thee than I, if I live,for never can I forget how it was that ye have vanquished Grettir. Much rather, then, do I choose to die."

Now of course it would have been an "insult and hurt" to the pride of Illugi, or of any other decent eleventh century Icelander, to have been compelled to swear an oath not to avenge his brother, even though that brother had been slain in the most chivalrous way possible; and it would doubtless have been a hard matter, even in such a case, for Illugi to have kept his oath, had he sworn it. But the treachery of the opponents puts an oath out of the question, just as it must have done in the case of the followers of King Cynewulf[503]or of Rolf Kraki, and as it must have done in the case of the followers of Hnæf, had the slaying of Hnæf been a premeditated act of treachery on the part of Finn.

In theNjáls Saga, Flosi has to take up the feud for the slain Hauskuld. Flosi is a moderate and reasonable man, so the first thing he does is to enquire into thecircumstancesunder which Hauskuld was slain. Flosi finds that the circumstances, and the outrageous conduct of the slayers, give him no choicebut to prosecute the feud. So in the end he burns Njal's hall, and in it the child of Kari.

Now to have burned a man's child to death might well seem a deed impossible of atonement. Yet in the end Flosi and Kari are reconciled by a full atonement,the father of the slain child actually taking the first step[504]. And all this is possible because Flosi and Kari recognise that each has been trying to play his part with justice and fairness, and that each is dragged into the feud through the fault of others. When Flosi has said of his enemy, "I would that I were altogether such a man as Kari is," we feel that reconciliation is in sight.

Very similar is the reconciliation between Alboin and Thurisind in Longobard story, but with this difference, that here it is Alboin who seeks reconciliation by going to the hall of the man whose son he has slain, thus reversing the parts of Flosi and Kari; and reconciliation is possible—just barely possible.

Again, when Bothvar comes to the hall of Rolf, and slays one of Rolf's retainers, the other retainers naturally claim full vengeance. Rolf insists upon investigating thecircumstances. When he learns that it was his own man who gave the provocation, he comes to terms with the slayer.

Of course it was a difficult matter, and one involving a sacrifice of their pride, for the retainers of Hnæf to come to any composition with thebanaof their lord; but it is not unthinkable, if the quarrel was started by Finn's subordinates without his consent, and if Finn himself fought fair. But had the slaying been an act of premeditated treachery on the part of Finn, the atonement would, I submit, have been not only difficult but impossible. If the retainers of Hnæf had had such success as our poem implies, then their action under such circumstances is, as Lawrence says, "almost incomprehensible." If they did it under compulsion, and fear of death, then their action would be contrary to all the ties of Germanic honour, and would entirely deprive them of any sympathy the audience might otherwise have felt for them. Yet it is quite obvious that the retainers of Hnæf are precisely the people with whom the audience is expected to sympathise[505].

In any case, the feud was likely enough to break out again as it did in the case of Alboin and Thurisind, and equally in that of Hrothgar and Ingeld.

Indeed, the different versions of the story of the feud between the house of Hrothgar and the house of Froda are very much to the point.

Much the oldest version—probably in its main lines quite historical—is the story as given inBeowulf. Froda has been slain by the Danes in pitched battle. Subsequently Hrothgar, upon whom, as King of the Danes, the responsibility for meeting the feud has devolved, tries to stave it off by wedding his daughter Freawaru to Ingeld, son of Froda. The sympathy of the poet is obviously with the luckless pair, Ingeld and Freawaru, involved as they are in ancient hatreds which are not of their making. For it is foreseen how some old warrior, who cannot forget his loyalty to his former king, will stir up the feud afresh.

But Saxo Grammaticus tells the story differently. Froda (Frotho) is treacherously invited to a banquet, and then slain. By this treachery the whole atmosphere of the story is changed. Ingeld (Ingellus) marries the daughter of his father's slayer, and, for this, the old version reproduced by Saxo showers upon him literally scores of phrases of scorn and contempt. The whole interest of the story now centres not in the recreant Ingeld or his wife of treacherous race, but in the old warrior Starkad, whose spirit and eloquence is such that he can bring Ingeld to a sense of his "vast sin[506]," can burst the bonds of his iniquity, and at last compel him to take vengeance for his father.

In theSaga of Rolf Krakithe story of Froda is still further changed. It is a tale not only of treachery but also of slaying of kin. Consequently the idea of any kind of atonement, however temporary, has become impossible; there is no hint of it.

Now the whole atmosphere of the Hengest-story inBeowulfis parallel to that of theBeowulfversion of the Ingeld-story: agreement is possible, though it does not prove to be permanent. There is room for much hesitation in the minds of Hengest and of Ingeld: they remain the heroes of the story. But if Finn had, as is usually supposed, invited Hnæf to his fort and thendeliberately slain him by treachery, the whole atmosphere would have been different. Hengest could not then be the hero, but the foil: the example of a man whose spirit fails at the crisis, who does the utterly disgraceful thing, and enters the service of his lord's treacherous foe. The hero of the story would be some other character—possibly the young Hunlafing, who, loyal in spite of the treachery and cowardice of his leader Hengest, yet, remaining steadfast of soul, is able in the end to infuse his own courage into the heart of the recreant Hengest, and to inspire all the perjured Danish thegns to their final and triumphant revenge on Finn.

But that is not how the story is presented.

Section X. An Attempt at Reconstruction

The theory, then, which seems to fit in best with what we know of the historic conditions at the time when the story arose, and which fits in best with such details of the story as we have, is this:

Finn, King of Frisia, has a stronghold, Finnsburg, outside the limits of Frisia proper. There several clans and chieftains are assembled[507]: Hnæf, Finn's brother-in-law, prince of the Hocings, the Eotens, and Sigeferth, prince of the Secgan; whether Sigeferth has his retinue with him or no is not clear.

But the treachery of the Eotens causes trouble: they have some old feud with Hnæf and his Danes, and attack them by surprise in their hall. There is no proof that Finn has any share in this treason. It is therefore quite natural that in theEpisode—although the treachery of the Eotens is censured—Finn is never blamed; and that in theFragment, Finn has apparently no share in the attack on the hall, at any rate during those first five days to which the account in theFragmentis limited.

The attack is led by Garulf (Fragment, l. 20), presumably the prince of the Eotens: and some friend or kinsman is urging Garulf not to hazard so precious a life in the first attack. Andhere, too, the situation now becomes clearer: if Garulf is the chief of the attacking people, we can understand one of his kinsmen or friends expostulating thus: but if he is merely one of a number of subordinates despatched by Finn to attack the hall, the position would not be so easily understood.

Garulf, however, does not heed the warning, and falls, "first of all the dwellers in that land." TheFragmentbreaks off, but the fight goes on: we can imagine that matters must have proceeded much as in the great attack upon the hall in theNibelungen lied[508]. One man after another would be drawn in, by the duty of revenge, and Finn's own men would wake to find a battle in progress. "The sudden bale (fǣr) came upon them." Finn's son joins in the attack, perhaps in order to avenge some young comrade in arms; and is slain, possibly by Hnæf. Then Finnhasto intervene, and Hnæf in turn is slain, possibly, though not certainly, by Finn himself. But Hengest, the thegn of Hnæf, puts up so stout a defence, that Finn is unable to take a full vengeance upon all the Danes. He offers them terms. What are Hengest and the thegns to do?

Finn has slain their lord. But they are Finn's guests, and they have slain Finn's son in his own house. Finn himself is, I take it, blameless.It is here that the tragic tension comes in.We can understand how, even if Hengest had Finn in his power, he might well have stayed his hand. So peace is made, and all is to be forgotten: solemn oaths are sworn. And Finn keeps his promise honestly. He resumes his position of host, making no distinction between Eotens, Frisians and Danes, who are all, for the time at least, his followers.

I think we have here a rational explanation of the action of Hengest and the other thegns of Hnæf, in following the slayer of their lord.

The situation resembles that which takes place when Alboin seeks hospitality in the hall of the man whose son he has slain, or when Ingeld is reconciled to Hrothgar. Very similar, too,is the temporary reconciliation often brought about in an Icelandic feud by the feeling that the other side has something to say for itself, and that both have suffered grievously. The death of Finn's son is a set off against the death of Hnæf[509]. But, as in the case of Alboin and of Ingeld, or of many an Icelandic Saga, the passion for revenge is too deep to be laid to rest permanently. This is what makes the figure of Hengest tragic, like the figure of Ingeld: both have plighted their word, but neither can keep it.

The assembly breaks up. Finn and his men go back to Friesland, and Hengest accompanies them: of the other Danish survivors nothing is said for the moment: whatever longings they may have had for revenge, the poet concentrates all for the moment in the figure of Hengest.

Hengest spends the winter with Finn, but he cannot quiet his conscience: and in the end, he accepts the gift of a sword from a young Danish prince Hunlafing, who is planning revenge. The uncles of Hunlafing, Guthlaf and Oslaf [Ordlaf], had been in the hall when it was attacked, and had survived. It is possible that the young prince's father, Hunlaf, was slain then, and that his son is therefore recognised as having the nominal leadership in the operations of vengeance[510]. Hengest, by accepting the sword, promises his services in the work of revenge, and makes a great slaughter of the treacherous Eotens. Perhaps he so far respects his oath that he leaves the simultaneous attack upon Finn to Guthlaf and Oslaf [Ordlaf]. Here we should have an explanation ofswylce: "in like wise[511]"; and also an explanation of the omission of Hengest's name from the final act, the slaying of Finn himself. Hengest made the Eotensfeel the sharpness of his sword: and in like wise Guthlaf and Oslaf conducted their part of the campaign. Of course this is only a guess: but it is very much in the manner of the Heroic Age to get out of a difficulty by respecting the letter of an oath whilst breaking its spirit—just as Hogni and Gunnar arrange that the actual slaying of Sigurd shall be done by Guttorm, who had not personally sworn the oath, as they had.

Section XI. Gefwulf, Prince of the Jutes

Conclusive external evidence in favour of the view just put forward we can hardly hope for: for this reason, amongst others, that the names of the actors in the Finn tragedy are corrupted and obscured in the different versions. Hnæf and Hengest are too well known to be altered: but most of the other names mentioned in theFragmentdo not agree with the forms given in other documents. Sigeferth is the Sæferth ofWidsith: the Ordlaf (correct) of theFragmentis the Oslaf of theEpisode. The first Guthlaf is confirmed by the Guthlaf of theEpisode: the other names, the second Guthlaf, Eaha and Guthere, we cannot control from other sources: but they have all, on various grounds, been suspected.

Tribal names are equally varied. Sigeferth's people, the Secgan, are called Sycgan inWidsith. And he would be a bold man who would deny (what almost all students of the subject hold) thatEotena, Eotenumin theEpisodeis yet another scribal error: the copyist had before him the Anglian form,eotna, eotnum, and miswroteeotena, eotenum, when he should have written the West-Saxon equivalent of the tribal name,Ȳtena, Ȳtum—the name we get inWidsith:

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