Grendel, a descendant of the giants, whom a magician had driven out of the country, but who had evidently returned to renew his former depredations.
“A haunter of marshes, a holder of moors.
. . . . . Secret
The land he inhabits; dark, wolf-haunted ways
Of the windy hillside, by the treacherous tarn;
Or where, covered up in its mist, the hill stream
Downward flows.”
Beowulf (Keary’s tr.).
As Hrothgar was now too old to wield a sword with his former skill, his first impulse was, of course, to offer a princely reward to any man brave enough to free the country of this terrible scourge. As soon as this was known ten of his doughtiest knights volunteered to camp in the hall on the following night, and attack the monster Grendel should he venture to reappear.
But in spite of the valor of these experienced warriors, and of the efficacy of their oft-tried weapons, they too succumbed. A minstrel, hiding in a dark corner of the hall, was the only one who escaped Grendel’s fury, and after shudderingly describing the massacre he had witnessed, he fled in terror to the kingdom of the Geates (Jutes or Goths). There he sang his lays in the presence of Hygelac, the king, and of his nephew Beowulf (the Bee Hunter), and roused their deepest interest by describing the visit of Grendel and the vain but heroic defense of the brave knights. Beowulf, having listened intently, eagerly questioned the scald, and, learning from him that the monster still haunted those regions, impetuously declared his intention to visit Hrothgar’s kingdom, and show his valor by fighting and, if possible, slaying Grendel.
“He was of mankind
In might the strongest,
At that day
Of this life,
Noble and stalwart.
He bade him a sea ship,
A goodly one, prepare.
Quoth he, the war king,
Over the swan’s road,
Seek he would
The mighty monarch,
Since he wanted men.”
Beowulf (Longfellow’s tr.).
[Sidenote: Beowulf and Breka.] Although very young, Beowulf was quite distinguished, and had already won great honors in a battle against the Swedes. He had also proved his endurance by entering into a swimming match with Breka, one of the lords at his uncle’s court. The two champions had started out, sword in hand and fully armed, and, after swimming in concert for five whole days, they were parted by a great tempest.
“Then were we twain there on the sea
Space of five nights, till the floods severed us,
The welling waves. Coldest of weathers,
Shadowy night, and the north wind
Battelous shocked on us; wild were the waters,
And were the mere-fishes stirred up in mind.”
Beowulf.
Breka was driven ashore, but the current bore Beowulf toward some jagged cliffs, where he desperately clung, trying to resist the fury of the waves, and using his sword to ward off the attacks of hostile mermaids, nicors (nixies), and other sea monsters. The gashed bodies of these slain foes soon drifted ashore, to Hygelac’s amazement; but when Beowulf suddenly reappeared and explained that they had fallen by his hand, his joy knew no bounds. As Breka had returned first, he received the prize for swimming; but the king gave Beowulf his treasured sword, Nägeling, and praised him publicly for his valor.
Beowulf had successfully encountered these monsters of the deep in the roaring tide, so he now expressed a hope that he might prevail against Grendel also; and embarking with fourteen chosen men, he sailed to Denmark, where he was challenged by the coast guard and warmly welcomed as soon as he had made his purpose known.
“’What men are ye,
War gear wearing,
Host in harness,
Who thus the brown keel
Over the water street
Leading, come
Hither over the sea?’”
Beowulf (Longfellow’s tr.).
Hrothgar received Beowulf most hospitably, but vainly tried to dissuade him from his perilous undertaking. Then, after a sumptuous banquet, where the mead flowed with true northern lavishness, Hrothgar and his suite sadly left the hall Heorot in charge of the brave band of strangers, whom they never expected to see again.
[Sidenote: Beowulf and Grendel.] As soon as the king had departed, Beowulf bade his companions lie down and sleep in peace, promising to watch over them, yet laying aside both armor and sword; for he knew that weapons were of no avail against the monster, whom he intended to grapple with hand to hand should it really appear.
“’I have heard
That that foul miscreant’s dark and stubborn flesh
Recks not the force of arms:—such I forswear,
Nor sword nor burnish’d shield of ample round
Ask for the war; all weaponless, hand to hand
(So may great Higelac’s smile repay my toil)
Beowulf will grapple with the mighty foe.’”
Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).
The warriors had no sooner stretched themselves out upon the benches in the hall than, overcome by the oppressive air as well as by mead, they sank into a profound sleep. Beowulf alone remained awake, watching for Grendel’s coming. In the early morning, when all was very still, the giant appeared, tore asunder the iron bolts and bars which secured the door, and striding into the hall, enveloped in a long, damp mantle of clammy mist, he pounced upon one of the sleepers. He tore him limb from limb, greedily drank his blood, and devoured his flesh, leaving naught but the head, hands, and feet of his unhappy victim. This ghastly repast only whetted the fiend’s ravenous appetite, however, so he eagerly stretched out his hands in the darkness to seize and devour another warrior. Imagine his surprise and dismay when he suddenly found his hand caught in so powerful a grasp that all his efforts could not wrench it free!
Grendel and Beowulf struggled in the darkness, overturning tables and couches, shaking the great hall to its very foundations, and causing the walls to creak and groan under the violence of their furious blows. But in spite of Grendel’s gigantic stature, Beowulf clung so fast to the hand and arm he had grasped that Grendel, making a desperate effort to free himself by a jerk, tore the whole limb out of its socket! Bleeding and mortally wounded, he then beat a hasty retreat to his marshy den, leaving a long, bloody trail behind him.
“Soon the dark wanderer’s ample shoulder bore
A gaping wound, each starting sinew crack’d,
And from its socket loosed the strong-knit joint.—
The victory was with Beowulf, and the foe,
Howling and sick at heart, fled as he might,
To seek beneath the mountain shroud of mist
His joyless home; for well he knew the day
Of death was on him, and his doom was seal’d.”
Beowulf (Conybeare’s tr.).
As for Beowulf, exhausted but triumphant, he stood in the middle of the hall, where his companions crowded around him, gazing in speechless awe at the mighty hand and limb, and the clawlike fingers, far harder than steel, which no power had hitherto been able to resist.
At dawn Hrothgar and his subjects also appeared. They heard with wonder a graphic account of the night’s adventures, and gazed their fill upon the monster’s limb, which hung like a trophy from the ceiling of Heorot. After the king had warmly congratulated Beowulf, and bestowed upon him many rich gifts, he gave