Three Trollish Swords, Part I

In Grendel's Lair

In previous posts I have suggested that the Old English words ent and eoten, both usually translated ‘giant’, mean different things and are used to different purposes. Today I will begin to make that argument in a systematic way, using three swords from Beowulf. All three are described using the phrase ealdsweord eotonisc (which is unique to Beowulf and only applied to these swords) and all three can be contrasted to works that are linked to the entas. Crucially, these three eotonisc swords are associated with heroic, victorious deeds that lead to the death of two monsters and a formidable king.

The first attempt at unlinking the terms ent and eoten is made in the title to this series of posts. Many translators of Beowulf render ealdsweord eotonisc with some form of the word ‘giant’: Chickering’s ‘ancient sword fashioned by giants’ and Heaney’s ‘ancient blade … relic of the giants’ are representative.¹ Turning eotenas into modern English ‘giants’ is understandable (perhaps owing its history to the obvious cognate with Old Norse jotun, giant), but unfortunate to the extent that it obscures the differences between eotenas and other terms like gigant, thyrs, and particuarly ent – all of which are also frequently translated ‘giant’. Thinking of the three swords that we will discuss as ‘trollish’ is a way of suggesting that difference. (It also follows Tolkien’s view of these terms, as we saw in a previous post.)

The first sword encountered with this epithet is the great blade found in Grendel’s lair by Beowulf. It is in fact described with not one but three ‘giantish’ terms. This sword is the only item in all of Old English literature that is said to be eotonisc and the work of entas as well as gigantes.²

By Joseph Ratcliffe Skelton - Marshall, Henrietta Elizabeth (1908) Stories of Beowulf, T.C. & E.C. Jack, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11001837

In the relevant scene, Beowulf has been dragged into the lair by Grendel’s mother, and his sword has failed to wound her. He has been thrown to the ground, where his enemy stabs at him with a seax. This is the lowest moment in the hero’s career so far, and the poet assures us that he would have died had it not been for his armor - as well as the favor of God (1550-56). Immediately following this assertion, Beowulf sees the sword:

Geseah ða on searwum    sigeeadig bil,

ealdsweord eotenisc    ecgum þyhtig,

wigena weorðmynd;    þæt [wæs] wæpna cyst, —

buton hit wæs mare    thonne ænig mon oðer

to beadulace    ætberan meahte,

god ond geatolic, giganta geweorc.

      -ll. 1557-62

He saw among war-gear    a weapon triumphant

an old sword of ettins,    edge-firm and mighty,

the glory of warriors,    choicest of weapons

but massive, more than    men could carry –

none else could bear    this blade to battle,

splendid, worthy    work of giants.

‘Sigeeadig bil’, ‘ealdsweord eotenisc … waepna cyst’, ‘giganta geweorc’ - this sword has more descriptors attached to it than any other weapon in the poem. When Beowulf later describes this moment to Hrothgar, he does not mention giants of any kind, but does use some noteworthy words for this ‘hildebil’ (war-blade) (1666):

ac me geuðe    ylda waldend

þæt ic on wage geseah    wlitig hangian

ealdsweord eacen;    ofost wisode

winigea leasum,    þæt ic ðy wæpne gebræd.

     -ll. 1661-64

but God of mankind    granted me

that I saw on the wall    suspended, gorgeous,

an ancient greatsword    guided me swiftly

sharply sorrowing    - that sword I drew.

In the formulation ‘ealdsweord eacen’, Beowulf has substituted ‘eacen’ (‘increased’, somehow larger than life) for ‘eotonisc’. It is a fitting substitution, apart from the factor of sheer mass. There is an equivalence between the oversized, overabundant physicality at work in the hero, the monsters, and the sword that violently connects them.³ From its first appearance, the weapon is accompanied by a host of triumphant descriptors that are never lavished on entish work: no enta geweorc is described as ‘sigeeadig’ or ‘waepna cyst’. This is a mighty sword, which will see Beowulf to victory:

He gefeng þa fetelhilt,    freca Scyldinga

hreoh ond heorogrim,    hringmæl gebrægd

aldres orwena,    yrringa sloh,

þæt hire wið halse    heard grapode,

banhringas bræc;    bil eal ðurhwod

fægna flæschoman,    heo on flet gecrong;

sweord wæs swatig,    secg weorce gefeh.

     -ll. 1563-69

He seized the ring-hilt    Scyldings’ champion

out the blade swept    savage, sword-grim

life despairing    slashed in anger

ground the great edge    against her neck, ripped,

broke the bone-rings    blade sheared through them

fated flesh-home    crumbled floorward

blade was bloody    - he, battle-gladdened.

Beowulf takes on eotonisc qualities here, angrily striking and decapitating his enemy. The bloody ‘weorce’ that Beowulf rejoices in is made possible by the ‘giganta geweorc; that is this ‘ealdsweord eotenisc’. He is in fact ‘savage and sword-grim’ - ‘ensavaged’ by this sword.

Grendel, who was impervious to swords, is beheaded by the eotonisc weapon. The mere bubbles with blood and gore apparently as a result, but more remarkable to the poet is the fate of this sword:

                    Þa þæt sweord ongan

æfter heaþoswate    hildegicelum,

wigbil wanian;    þæt wæs wundra sum

þæt hit eal gemealt    ise gelicost,

ðonne forstes bend    fæder onlæteð,

onwindeð wælrapas,    se geweald hafað

sæla ond mæla;    þæt is soð metod.

Ne nom he in þæm wicum,    Weder-Geata leod,

maðmæhta ma,    þeh he þær monige geseah,

buton þone hafelan    ond þa hilt somod

since fage;    sweord ær gemealt,

forbarn brodenmæl;    wæs þæt blod to þæs hat,

ættren ellorgæst    se þær inne swealt.

          -ll. 1605-17

                    Then that stained sword

after blood-work    began like ice-shafts

to waver, the war-blade    - it was a wonder -

as when winter    warms to springtime

frost unfettered    by the Father

ice unraveled    by the Ruler

of time and tide-ways    – true God He is.

Weather-Geats’ man    got no other

treasure from there    – though he saw them –

save the great head    and hilt together

gem-worked, winking    – the edge had melted:

blade like serpents,    blood consumed it

from the poisonous monster    that there perished.

The blade’s melting is a ‘wundor’, yet it is also likened to the timely, appropriate melting of ice in its due season. The poet seems eager to show that the unusual fate of this weapon is related to predictable events under the control of God, ‘father’ and ‘true measurer’.

That such a relationship is possible - indeed entirely fitting - is made clearer when the hilt is delivered to Hrothgar. Here, the exuberant descriptive phrases that accompanied the eotonisc sword’s discovery are absent. It has undergone a transformation like no other object in Old English: a eotonisc thing has become entisc:

Đa wæs gylden hilt    gamelum rince,

harum hildfruman    on hand gyfen,

enta ærgeweorc;    hit on æht gehwearf

æfter deofla hryre    Denigea frean,

wundorsmiþa geweorc;    ond þa þas worold ofgeaf

gromheort guma,    Godes andsaca,

morðres scyldig,    ond his modor eac,

on geweald gehwearf    woroldcyninga

ðæm selestan    be sæm tweonum

ðara þe on Scedenigge    sceattas dælde.

Hroðgar maðelode;    hylt sceawode,

ealde lafe.   On ðæm wæs or writen

fyrngewinnes;    syðþan flod ofsloh,

gifen geotende    giganta cyn,

frecne geferdon;    þæt wæs fremde þeod

ecean dryhtne;    him þæs endelean

þurh wæteres wylm    waldend sealde.

Swa wæs on ðæm scennum    sciran goldes

þurh runstafas    rihte gemearcod,

geseted ond gesæd,    hwam þæt sweord geworht,

irena cyst    ærest wære,

wreoþenhilt ond wyrmfah.    Đa se wisa spræc

sunu Healfdenes;    swigedon ealle

          -ll. 1677-99

Graybeard war-chief    grasped the gold hilt:

ancient ent-work    wondrous smith-craft

devils’ doom now    Dane-king’s prize.

God’s hate-hearted    foeman Grendel

murderous spirit    and his mother

suffered strength    of greatest sea-king’s –

rich ring-giver’s -    greatest champion.

Hrothgar musing    making speech saw

graven runes,    the beginning telling

of ancient struggle -    sky-thrown sea-waves

crashed on giants    justice final

God’s great fury    foe-kin whelming.

Marked it firmly    former sword-smith

whom the weapon    had been made for

iron choicest    handle gold-chased

twining serpents -    spoke then Hrothgar

son of Healfdene,    hall-hush falling.

The hilt, though ‘gylden’, is here not a glorious weapon, but an ‘ealde lafe’. The prefix ‘aer-’ modulates the term ‘enta geweorc’, so even more than most entish things, this hilt is associated with age, the past, and former, fallen times. In an ancient conflict, ‘giganta cyn’ were struck by a flood, paid back by whelming waves. Something of this ancient strife was long ago wrought on the hilt itself (‘or writen’). Once, the poet tells us, the sword was the best of iron (‘irena cyst ærest wære’), but no longer. The name of the smith (or owner) has been marked in runes, but the name is not told. Perhaps Hrothgar cannot read it. The hilt is an intimation of the past, but the images it conveys are vague.

Yet the imagery is, for the viewer, evidently striking: Hrothgar ‘maðelode’ (‘made speech’), we are told in l. 1687, but for the next dozen lines he does no such thing, as if frozen in contemplation of this arresting object. The description of giantish feud and punishing flood seems to interrupt Hrothgar’s speech; the distance between a form of “maþelian” and actual speech is greater here than it is anywhere else in the poem. The hilt, and its story, seems to intrude in Heorot just as other entish structures irrupt into the landscape.

Between its discovery in Grendel’s lair and its delivery to Hrothgar’s hall, the sword has changed. This change informs the poet’s choice of descriptive terms. When Beowulf first finds the sword, it is whole – indeed, it is eacen, more than a sword – and in his dramatic struggle against Grendel’s mother, in which he is almost defeated, he turns the tide with the aid of this new, eotonisc weapon.

By the time it comes to rest in Hrothgar’s hands, however, its hewing days are over: the hilt alone remains. No longer eotonisc, it is now an enta geweorc and almost a curiosity - indeed, something of a ruin itself. Now that its entishness has come to the fore, something of the history of this weapon-that-is-no-longer-a-weapon can be discerned. Not much, and not very clearly (part of what makes entish stuff entish is, after all, its distance from the present, and its near inaccessibility), but enough to sound the great depths of the past that are so important a feature of this poem.

The Abingdon sword. By Geni - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32938706

The poet’s use of different ‘giant’-terms at different stages of the sword’s existence is consistent with those terms’ appearance elsewhere. The eotonisc sword is used by Beowulf; the entisc, ruined sword is contemplated by Hrothgar. After it has been reduced to a hilt, it is useful only as a reminder of loss - both the loss of its own former utility and of the race that created it. Heroes use eotonisc swords; entisc works are for the contemplation of old men and wandering exiles: people who are themselves partial, ruined, compromised.

In next week’s post, we will turn to the fight with the dragon, where the second ealdsweord eotonisc makes it appearance – this one in the hands of another young hero, Wiglaf.

1. Seamus Heaney’s Beowulf: A Verse Translation (2000); Howell D. Chickering’s Beowulf (1977)

2. A full exploration falls outside the scope of this post, but we will return to gigant and its use in Old English.

3. For more on this reading of eacen, see Alvin Lee, Gold-Hall and Earth-Dragon: Beowulf as Metaphor, p. 9-10.