The Battle of Maldon, page 5
perish all pirates
See Part Two, note on translating wicinga (Maldon l. 26).
No dirge for them
The Maldon poet’s work does manage to record the words and brave deeds of more than just noble retainers. If we follow the conceit of Totta’s eventual authorship of the poem, we might see him learning from Tída here and elsewhere, as in the case of acknowledging the tactical blunder at the causeway.
But Æthelred’ll prove less easy prey …
Totta’s hopeful prediction, of course, does not come off.
faithful servant
A collocation used of Sam and Gollum in The Lord of the Rings.
It’s dark! … doom shall come and dark conquer.
Anna Smol sees Totta’s dream vision ‘penetrating to the heart of heroic tradition’ (‘Bodies in War’ 275). The striking imagery certainly recalls that of Tolkien’s famous Beowulf lecture:
as in a little circle of light about their halls, men with courage as their stay went forward to that battle with the hostile world and the offspring of the dark which ends for all, even the kings and champions, in defeat (MC 18).
For more on the development of this dream sequence, see Appendix V.
my dream shattered
The whole night’s experience has been a kind of bump in the road for Totta.
your words were queer … I don’t hold with that.
Tída here coolly dismisses the most famous lines in OE verse.
Dirige, Domine …
The chant is part of the Catholic Office of the Dead, entreating God to direct the way home. While it may not be the homecoming that Beorhtnoth had in mind, nor is it that of the hopeless Northern heroism.
A Voice in the dark
Perhaps the clearest stage direction for the voice comes in the draft held at Leeds. As the Dirige chant dies down, ‘a louder voice (on a boat with several men in it comes in gloom past front of stage) is heard saying the English words’.
In ‘The Tradition of Versification’, Tolkien doubts that rhymes like that of Maldon l. 271 came from the poet; it seems ‘detachable’, as if ‘it has slipped in from a different style’. He may have been thinking along the same lines in preparing for the BBC production of his play, thinking it ‘best to omit’ the voice in the dark, though in the end an actor is hired to play the part (Chronology 467–9). The mysterious voice from the water is nonetheless a fixture from the early drafts of The Homecoming, gaining additional jarring potency as the rest of the drama moves from rhyme to alliteration.
Tolkien’s attribution of the source – the lines ‘echo … some verses … referring to King Canute’ – only gets us so far. The festive occasion is reversed in The Homecoming – the monks sing not merrily but ‘sadly’. And Canute’s rise to power is still a long way off at the time of Tída and Totta’s quest; he may not have even been born when Maldon was fought. Whatever their ultimate portent, the jingle of rhyme pulls us from the alliterative tradition and, in the call to listen a while, our attention returns to the business of interpretation, the effort to ‘hear the tears through the harps twanging’. For further discussion of the historical resonances here, see West’s ‘Canute and Beorhtnoth’ (350–353).
(III)
OFERMOD
But to merit a place in Essays and Studies …
The verse drama appears to long pre-date the essay, though how hastily it might have been composed is unclear; at any rate no extant draft material for ‘Ofermod’ is held with the rest of the manuscripts in the Bodleian Library.
‘the only purely heroic poem extant in Old English’
The quotation is derived from E.V. Gordon’s 1937 edition (24).
eschewing weapons
‘I have learned, too, that this fierce slayer in his savagery to weapons gives no heed. I too then will disdain (so love me Hygelac, my liege lord!) to bear either sword, or wide shield’ (Beowulf l. 349–352).
as wisdom might direct even a hero to do … a long ‘vaunt’
This emphasis on strategy and the ethical obligations of a leader in combat is, as Tolkien notes, only one of many ingredients to be considered. Tolkien’s 1938 New Year’s Day talk on ‘Dragons’ views the hero’s decision in another light:
‘Beowulf seems to have realized the nature of dragons: that their power grows to match power, so that they can destroy hosts and are usually only to be defeated by lonely courage. He was a king, but he refused to take an army’. (‘Dragons’ 52).
The vaunt in question sees a ‘fearless’ Beowulf describe the unfortunate necessity of arms and instruct his men not to engage in this deed beyond their ‘measure’, but to wait on the hill (Beowulf l. 2109–2129).
treat a desperate battle … as a sporting match
For more on this temptation, see Appendix VI.
tales and verse of poets now lost save for echoes
Tolkien’s taste for lost tales remains a constant in his scholarly and creative work.
Too foolish to be heroic
There is in all this discussion of the perils of courageous excess a connection to Tolkien’s own surname, which could mean ‘foolhardy’ or, as Tolkien adapted it for a character in The Notion Club Papers, ‘Rashbold’. In a letter to Houghton Mifflin Tolkien wrote:
My name is TOLKIEN (not -kein). It is a German name (from Saxony), an anglicization of Tollkiehn, i.e. tollkühn. But, except as a guide to spelling, this fact is as fallacious as all facts in the raw. For I am neither ‘foolhardy’ nor German, whatever some remote ancestors may have been.
For more on the recurrence of this attribute in Tolkien’s career and the name in various guises in his fiction, see Fisher.
if the poem had any rounded ending
Tolkien speculates on a length up to 600 lines (see Part Three).
The Charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred, Lord Tennyson poem written shortly after the disastrous charge in the 1854 Battle of Balaclava.
even in spite of themselves
If Totta goes on to compose the OE poem, we can well imagine the severe criticism of Beorhtnoth made ‘in spite of’ himself.
the snotere ceorlas
Tolkien’s gloss is ‘wise men’. They find ‘little fault’ in Beowulf’s decision to aid Hrothgar – ‘i.e. they applauded it’ (l.163–64, p. 110).
Wita scal gepyldig …
Lines 65–69 of the OE poem, The Wanderer. Tolkien rendered them thus in an unpublished translation:
A sage (a counsellor) must be long suffering, not too fiery of heart must he be, not too hasty in speech, not too soft in war, not too thoughtless in heart, not too fearful and afraid, not too greedy of wealth, not too eager to boast ere he have clear knowledge (MS. Tolkien A 38/1, fol. 14).
PART TWO
The Battle of Maldon
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
[The following note draws from Tolkien’s wide-ranging introductory comments on the poem (Bodleian Library MS. Tolkien A 30/2 fols. 74–83). It has been edited to provide, in Tolkien’s own words, a brief indication of Maldon’s textual history and literary interest. The material here dates to the mid-to-late 1920s, when Tolkien delivered lectures first on ‘The Verse of Sweet’s Anglo-Saxon Reader’ (Michaelmas 1926) and later on Maldon (1928 and 1930).]
Manuscript (Cotton Otho A XII) was almost entirely destroyed by fire on Oct. 23, 1731. The manuscript was really a composite bundle of manuscripts of quite different nature and periods. Its contents can be seen described in Wanley’s Catalogue … He adds excerpts from the Historia Eliensis concerning the life of Byrhtnoth.
And that is all we should know about the poem, but for a fortunate chance: Thomas Hearne an eminent eighteenth-century antiquarian printed it in 1726 (in a hotch-potch appendix containing strangely assorted matter often of little bearing on the matter of the book): Johannis Confratris & Monachi Glastoniensis Chronica. I have a copy here if anyone wishes to see it.
Throughout Old English literature this is the case – almost every survival is of radical importance. Deor’s Lament – Strophe! Waldere – wide cycle of Gmc. legends vigorously heated! Lyrics, Riddles. Maldon. Revises 2 opinions 1) Practice of alliterative verse was not W.S. 2) that it was already hopelessly decrepit in tenth century.
This piece has been thought to be the work of a poet knocking off vigorous verse in the heat of the events – and incidentally writing two lines memorable as the best and most concise statement of the heroic Northern spirit.
We have no knowledge who wrote this poem – it has come down to us in the ordinary form of Old English verse: West Saxon with occasional non-West Saxon forms – here also with decisive signs of lateness … and also complicated by the errors of an eighteenth century antiquarian whose knowledge of Old English was very small. It may have been an Essex man, or even a man of Byrhtnoth’s house. Beorhtnoth or in late form Byrhtnoth was Ealdorman of Essex.
The language of old lays is used but it is to be remembered that life still in many ways was true to this language. Beorhtnoth was a man of great rank, with his own retinue and following bound by personal ties to himself and his house, as well as an emphatic ‘duke’, a king’s chief-officer, whose fame and valour won him respect all over the kingdom. Such deaths as Byrhtnoth’s are of more import than all the victories of imperial armies since the world began. From them real literature springs – the literature quickened by true human sentiment (so like and so utterly different from its counterfeits).
Taken out of the hurried but moving and impassioned words of this chance fragment his last speech even in this age (shy even when believing of sayings above a whisper) rings movingly true. He died in defence of his lord, England, and Christendom thanking God for all joys of life. And this thing preserved (by chance?!) survives to overthrow the text-book estimate of the England of Æthelred and lets in more light than any other document upon the grievous struggles and disasters and the heroism of the English. It took some 300 years of misery to quench them. What Byrhtnoth did unsung – What songs of Byrhtnoth have been lost! What a waste of broad lands, good things of England, proud lives – and the gain a few moving lines that can still stir the roots of the hearts of people who will take the trouble to learn the language. The heart may be moved by many other things – but there is perhaps no thrill so salutary as that which comes from catching with sympathetic ear lectures of the voices of one’s own people from far down the years in what was England and is (perhaps) England still.
Maldon is not only a thing which has some intrinsic interest of its own, it has now an accidental interest in recalling the feelings and the code of conduct and the desperate struggles of men in England very long ago. It offers a disturbing glimpse sufficient to prove that we know very little of the history and fate of the native [?forms of] verse in England before 1100.
THE BATTLE OF MALDON, PROSE TRANSLATION BY J.R.R. TOLKIEN
[Belonging to the same period is a complete manuscript draft of a translation of Maldon (Bodleian Library MS. Tolkien A 30/2, fols. 124–36) in ink. A pencilled note, badly smudged at the top left of the translation’s first page reads: ‘this … affair … intended … attempt to reproduce the poetic effect of the original’. It is my guess that the missing words would rather reverse the significance of the note, for the text plainly is not concerned with poetic effect but with the struggle to pin down with some precision the poet’s narrative. What is left is the rousing tale, here in Tolkien’s own words, that inspired The Homecoming.
In editing the manuscript, I have chosen to present it as clearly and continuously as possible, adopting many emendations silently, and presenting Tolkien’s occasional queries or explanatory asides as footnotes. The manuscript numbers in the left margin every 5 lines of the poem are in blue pencil; I give these line markers in brackets to help orient readers who refer to the OE text.]
TRANSLATION BATTLE OF MALDON
[1] … would be broken. He then commanded each man to abandon his horse and drive it off, and to march forward, giving his mind to handstrokes[1] and to good courage. As [5] soon as the kinsman of Offa perceived that the earl would not brook cowardice, he let then his beloved hawk fly from his hand away to the wood, and he strode to battle; by which token it was plain to see that the young man would not show faint heart [10] in that struggle, since he (now) took to arms. And Eadric too purposed to aid his chief and lord in battle; he marched forward keen with spear to war: a loyal heart had he as long as he might hold in hands shield or broad sword; [15] he made good his vow, now that he must fight in the front rank before his lord.
There then Byrhtnoth began to dispose his men and rode from point to point giving advice and orders, how they should place themselves and hold [20] that position, and bade men hold their shields up rightly and have no fear. When he had well ordered that host he dismounted amongst his men, where he loved best to be, where the men of his own household were, of whose loyalty he was most certain.
[25] Then there stood upon the banks and fiercely cried, speaking these words, the messenger of pirates, who boastfully announced to the chief the business of the enemy from overseas, where he stood upon that shore: ‘Bold seafarers have sent me to you, and have bidden [30] me say to you: that quickly must you send rings (of gold) if you would save yourselves;[2] and it is better for you (all) that you should buy off this onslaught with tribute than we should meet in so deadly a battle. We need not destroy one another, if you have means for this [35] we will in exchange for the gold make a binding truce. If you,[3] who are the chief man here, decide upon this, that you will save your people, and give to the seamen money at their own assessment in return for friendship and accept terms of peace from us,[4] we will [40] then go aboard with that payment and put out to sea (again) and keep peace with you’.
Byrhtnoth spake, and upraised his shield, and shook his pliant spear-shaft, and uttered these words, wroth, undaunted, he gave him answer. [45] ‘Do you hear, pirate, what this people says? They will for tribute give you spears, the venomed point, swords forged of old – such war gear as will be of little good to you in battle. Envoy of our enemies from oversea, go back and declare this to them, [50] tell your people[5] a tale much less pleasant, that here stands no craven lord among his company, one who will defend this his native land, the realm of Æthelred my master; this people and this earth; the heathen shall [55] fall in battle. A mean welcome it seems to me that you should go back onboard with our money unfought; now that you have come here from so far away and set foot inside our land; not so easily shall you win treasure – spearpoint and sword blade, and the grim game of war shall [60] first decide our quarrel before we give tribute!’
He then gave orders to advance the ranks, and for the men to march forwards so that they all stood upon the river bank. There because of the water neither host could get at the other; [65] there after the ebb came the flowing tide, the streaming waters locked together.[6] They were impatient for the time when they might meet spear with spear. They (then) stood there on either side of the River Panta in their armies, the ranks of Essex and the pirate horde, and neither [70] side could damage the other, save for such as got his death by flying arrow. The tide went out. The seamen stood ready, many pirates eager for battle. Then the protector of warriors[7] ordered a [75] soldier bold in battle (Wulfstan was his name; he was Ceola’s son and a valiant man among his own people) to hold the bridge, and he shot with his casting-spear the first man who there, more daring than the others, set foot upon the bridge. There stood there beside Wulfstan two soldiers [80] proud and fearless, Ælfhere and Maccus: It was not in their mind to beat a retreat at that ford, nay, stoutly they defended themselves against the enemy as long as they could wield weapons.
When then they[8] perceived this and saw clearly that they had there [85] come upon no gentle guardians of the bridge, those vile invaders made a plausible appeal (to Byrhtnoth’s chivalry) and asked they might have opportunity for coming up on his bank and leading their troops over the ford. Then the earl[9] in his overconfident chivalry [90] conceded too much land to that hateful people. Then did he, Byrhthelm’s son, shout over the fatal water (and men hearkened to him): ‘Now we have made room for you, come ye men, quickly to us and to battle. God alone [95] knoweth who may be masters of the stricken field’.
Then waded those murderous wolves,[10] (all) the pirate host, heedless of the water, west over the Panta, and over the clear water the men of the invading fleet bore their [100] linden shields. There to meet his foes stood ready Byrhtnoth with his men, he ordered them to make that phalanx[11] with their shields and bade his host stand firm against the enemy. Now was fighting near at hand, glory in battle; the time was come when those whose fate it was [105] to die should there fall slain. There was the battle cry upraised, the ravens went to and fro, and the eagle eager for carrion; clamour was upon the earth. Then they let fly from their hands spears file-hardened and javelins ground[12] sharp. [110] Bows were busy, shield received point, bitter was that onslaught; men fell on either side, and warriors lay dead. Wounded was Wulfmær, Byrhtnoth’s kinsman his sister’s son, and he laid him on his deathbed amid the slain, [115] grievously hewn was he with swords. There was a payment for him returned to the pirates. It is said that Eadweard slew one of them quickly with his sword (nor did he hesitate in his stroke) so that dead at his feet the doomed warrior fell. [120] For this his prince[13] spoke his thanks to him, to his own retainer, when he had space. Thus the stouthearted men stood firm in battle, and bethought them eagerly who might first with (spear) point reach the vitals [125] of men doomed to die, and fight with their weapons.[14] The dead fell upon the earth.
