The Poem & So Much More

Beowulf is possibly the oldest and greatest adventure story in the English language. Set down in writing probably in Mercia (a large kingdom in central England) in the eighth century about quasi- historical events that happened in Northern Europe before the Anglo - Saxons settled in Britain.

Most people know it but have possibly not read it...here is my very abridged badly written version just to give folks an idea. It is reduced from poetry to prose, from its original awesome power to a short Tarrintinoesque adventure story.

Warm yourself by the fire. Listen now to the fame of heroic Kings in days gone by. May you prosper by these words.

Across the stormy sea in the land of the Danes there was once a mighty King called Hrothgar. This noble king was granted glory in battle and with his mighty troop of followers carved out a large kingdom. King Hrothgar then commanded that a huge banquet hall should be built to honour his victories. It is said that people came from all over the world to decorate that splendid palace. It was with out doubt the finest building on earth. The old warrior king named his great hall - 'Heorot' - hall of the stag.

Soon the hall was full with the din of merry making the first great banquet began. Outside, across the dark night, a demon heard the noise from the hall. The sound of laughter and music caused this monster great pain. It doubled up in agony and anger. This cruel creature was called Grendel, an evil brutish fiend that prowled the windswept wastelands and desolate moors.

Under the cover of the night Grendel walked to King Hrothgar's hall. The foul monster found all the kings companions fast a sleep. Grendel slaughtered thirty warriors. Ate half of them and dragged the bloody remainder back to his den.

Next morning the once proud and all-powerful Hrothgar wept at the terrible site of slaughter and trail of blood that left the hall. Worse still, that next night the monster struck again. Then the next night; again and again cruel creature crashed into the hall. Soon wise men searched for safer sleeping places away from Heorot. Grendel ruled the night and the best of halls stood empty for twelve long years. Bold heroes in vain tried to rid Heorot of Grendel - all failed.

News of Grendel quickly spread, across the sea the story went - until it reached the kingdom of the Geats. The king of this land was called Hygelac. One of his followers was a warrior already famous for his great bravery; he was the strongest man alive, princely and powerful. His name was Beowulf.

As soon as he heard of Grendel, Beowulf picked fourteen companions and commanded that his ship be made ready. Foaming at the prow - like the swiftest sea bird - Beowulf's ship sped across the waves towards King Hrothgar's Hall. A guard saw them land, leapt on his horse and charged down towards them brandishing his spear fiercely.

" Warriors! Who are you?" he demanded. "Tell me now or you shall not pass".
" We are Geats from across the sea. My name is Beowulf and I have come to bury this monster called Grendel" the hero calmly replied.
" Never have I seen such a powerful warrior, you may pass" replied the guard " - but a wise warrior should know the difference between idle boasts and great deeds."

Beowulf and his companions marched on. Their iron coats of ring mail shone in the afternoon sun as they approached the great timbered hall. They placed their forest of spears against the outside wall and waited.
King Hrothgar was told of Beowulf's arrival.

" I have heard of this Beowulf - it is said that he has the strength of thirty men. Call him forward I will reward this warrior richly if he rids my kingdom of Grendel"

Beowulf was brought before Hrothgar.

"Greetings Lord Hrothgar! I have come to crush Grendel in single combat. I alone will wrestle this foul monster with my bare hands." The hero proclaimed.

The weary king looked dismayed.
" After quaffing ale brave warriors of mine have boasted that they would wait within Heorot by the dozen and fight against the demon with their fearsome swords. None have survived. Next morning we find our hall splattered with their blood"
" For twelve long winters no one has succeeded" said the Queen.
A warrior in the hall leered towards Beowulf and said he was a fraud. The mighty hero calmly replied.
" He who dares wins."

King Hrothgar then invited Beowulf and his followers to take their places in the banquet, to eat and drink as much as they wished. At the banquets end the whole company arose. King Hrothgar and Beowulf saluted each other.

Hrothgar then said, " I promise you this, Beowulf you shall have all you desire if you are victorious in this fight." The old king then left the hall to Beowulf and his companions.

Spaces were cleared. The trembling Geats lay down. All except Beowulf believed that they would not see the morning, or their friends, or their families ever again. Their lord took of his helmet, his chain mail vest and told his servant to guard his sword. Soon all the Geats were fast a sleep. All except Beowulf himself.

The night prowler came slithering through the shadows. Under the nights shroud Grendel walked across the shadowy moors towards the hall. For a moment the terrible beast listened to the snoring inside. Then with the slightest touch of his clawed fingers the bolted doors fell open.

The monster swept forward into the midst of the sleeping warriors. Evil gleamed in Grendel's eyes. His grizzly claws shot out and grasped one man. The foulest demon tore the helpless victim apart and devoured him down in seconds.

The Grendel reached out again. Beowulf moved faster and grabbed the surprised monster by the arm. Never had the demon felt such a powerful grip, a glimmer of fear spread across its face. Grendel grunted and tried to pull back. Beowulf held fast and increased his grip.

Now Grendel began to feel his arm break in Beowulf's hold. Monster and hero lurched too and fro in their deathly struggle. Tables and benches crashed to the floor. Grendel roared. Again and again he struck the hero back.

Suddenly, Beowulf's loyal followers sprang at the beast the beast, slashing at the monster with their fearsome swords. The building rang with clatter of their blows. Again and again they struck their blows. Yet for all their brave efforts not one blade pierced the monsters flesh. Grendel's skin was magically charmed and not finest blade made by man could harm him.

Yet exhausted Beowulf held Grendel fast. Soon the monster came to realise that he could not win. He twisted to break free. His shoulders ripped. His muscles snapped. His bones tore apart. His bloody arm tore from his body. Grendel howled with pain. The foul monster ran deep into the night leaving his clawed arm behind.
The warriors then placed the monstrous arm over the entrance of the hall. The king marvelled at the clawed fist with its ten terrifying spikes of steel.

" Beowulf! Beowulf!" the king embraced the hero." You are the best of men. From this day forward I shall treat you as my son. Whatever I possess shall be your also, you will lack nothing."

Word of Grendel's defeat spread quickly. Soon stouthearted warriors travelled back to Heorot to inspect Grendel's grizzly arm. Proud King Hrothgar commanded that a great banquet should be held in praise of Beowulf. At last the hall was full with the din of laughter and music. Jewelled tongued bards wove tales about the hero's bravery. Then Hrothgar presented Beowulf with splendid war gear, a fine coat of silver mail, a golden battle banner and the royal sword of the king's own father. Next eight war-horses were brought into the hall and a jewel-encrusted saddle was placed before Grendel's victor. To each of Beowulf's companions a golden arm ring was given. Then the queen arose; she stepped forward and gave to the mighty warrior two golden arm rings, a fine ring and a beautiful necklace. Heorot erupted with joy.

After the banquet, Beowulf was shown to a quieter sleeping place away from the drunken snores of lesser warriors. Back in the hall, benches were pushed back and the floor was padded with mattresses and pillows. Resting next to each ale happy warrior was a coat of mail, spear and shield. Soon the bear weary bench mates were filling the nights silence with their sleep noise. One of them though, was doomed to die.

Out, across the moors Grendel's mother rose shrieking out of a blood red lake and in terrible silence descended upon Heorot. The sleeping warriors were caught by surprise. Half clothed they reached for their spears. Grendel's mother was far quicker. She fell upon one brave lord, grabbed her son's arm and left the hall in uproar.

At once Beowulf and Hrothgar led their warriors in pursuit of the demon. They followed the monster's tracks through the darkest dismal forests and craggy cliff edges. Past little known country - across wolf slopes, windswept headlands and perilous ways. Further they went, wadding through freezing streams and boggy moors. Until they came to a foul smelling lake that boiled with blood and gore.

Beowulf put on his armour and said
" Cattle die. Warriors die
The days on each one of us is numbered.
He who may should seek fame before his death,
The deeds of great men are always remembered."

Then the warrior hero was given a mighty sword called Hrunting and he dived bravely into the dark infested lake.

For a full day it seemed the grim warrior swam down deeper into the murky waters. Grendel's mother saw him first. She shot towards him with her fangs and ghastly claws. Beowulf's armour protected him. She could not penetrate the metal links with her loathsome fingers, so she dragged him down towards her lair.

At once Beowulf's lungs were filled with stale air from great vaulted cavern below the lake. The mighty warrior broke free, dashed out the sword Hrunting and struck the monster's mother squarely on the head. The blade screamed with the blow. Yet the battle scythe did not bite the ghouls flesh. A blow that would have cleaved a metal helmed man in two, did not scratch her at all. The sword was useless.

Suddenly the terrible demon was upon him. Beowulf could not throw her off. Stronger than her son savagely she attacked her victim. The mighty hero stumbled and fell. The gruesome monster dropped down on the warrior and tried to grasp his heart. Once more Beowulf's chain mail guarded his life.

Then out of his battle weary eye Beowulf saw a massive giant made sword. The fearless hero twisted and broke free. He grabbed the huge sword and struck a mighty blow at the ghoul's neck. It sliced the bloody head away from the terrible beast's body. The monster crashed before the warrior's feet.

For a while Beowulf leant panting on the blood stained metal corpse maker. His heart pounded. The heavy beats echoed in the silent chamber. Here was a man without equal. A hero with the strength of thirty other heroes. Slayer of Grendel, destroyer of Grendel's mother, a warrior without equal in the world. Battle red Beowulf then searched the caves until he found the limp body of Grendel himself. The grim warrior lifted the giant's sword and struck off the monster's head. At once the metal blade began to melt - like a gory icle in the mid days sun - right up to the hilt. The brave warrior then took Grendel's head and the sword hilt and swam up to his faithful companions.

The warriors above had all but given up hope. For nine long hours they had waited for Beowulf's return. It took four strong lords to carry Grendel's head back to King Hrothgar's hall. The hero gave the king the giant golden sword hilt and said.
" Behold, now I say you shall sleep peacefully in Heorot."
" Bravest of heroes," the king replied, " your name shall echo in every nation. Lucky are your companions; desolate are your enemies. " King Hrothgar then ordered another great feast and gave Beowulf twelve more fine gifts. After the banquet everyone slept peacefully until sunrise.

In the morning Beowulf bade farewell to King Hrothgar and set sail for home. The proud ship surged back across the waves back to the land of the Geats. Soon as he landed Beowulf went to find his own lord - King Hygelac. The warrior told his lord about his bold adventure and gave his king half the treasures he had been awarded. King Hygelac was most pleased and in return granted Beowulf a vast stretch of land and the finest sword that has ever been given.

Time past.

Beowulf fought faithfully by his king's side in many campaigns. Years passed by; King Hygelac grew old and died. Then his son fell in battle. Beowulf was elected king and for fifty years he was a strong and wise ruler.

Then one night a slave on the run from his master's cruel whip stumbled into a cave. There before the terrified servant was a huge dragon. Beneath the scaled beast was a fast treasure horde- full of gold, silver, precious stone, rings and jewelled goblets. The poor slave edged forward and hastily grabbed a solid golden cup and ran.

The guardian of the treasure awoke. Bursting with rage the winged beast hit the sky. Great balls of flame belched out its mouth. Soon the whole land was torched with angry fire. Even King Beowulf own hall was swallowed in flame. The dragon intended to destroy every thing in sight.

The terrified slave gave up the golden cup to the old king. King Beowulf chose ten of his finest warriors and commanded that his smith to forge a heavy iron shield. The mighty lord then traced the fire monster back to its lair. At the jaws of the dragons cavern the old hero told his warriors to stay put.

" Battles in plenty I ventured in my youth - and ancient as I am now - it is my fate to match strength with this over sized worm." King Beowulf threw out his chest and gave a thundering battle roar.

At once the dragon replied with a massive burst of flames. The iron shield halted that fire. Brave and warlike the old king drew his sword. The fire serpent rushed towards him. Beowulf brought his blade crashing down on the beast. The razor sharp edge failed, once more Beowulf's blade would not pass through a beast's scale. The ferocious monster replied - spurting out murderous flames that engulfed the old king with terrible agony. Beowulf was doomed; the dragon sensed victory and all but one of the kings companions fled for their lives.

Wiglaf, the king's young cousin, did not desert his lord. Brave and loyal he drew his sword and dived deep into the battle fury. The mighty serpent welcomed the warrior boy with a barrage of fire that turned his linden shield to cinders. Brave Wiglaf armour gave him no protection, but he pushed onwards.

Then Beowulf summoned up new strength, arched his battle blade and plunged it deep into the dragon's skull. The sword stuck there, quivered and broke.
The cruel beast shot forward and grabbed Beowulf round the neck with its sharp bitter fangs. The powerful monster then shook the blood soaked king ferociously like a rabid dog.

Wiglaf then showed great daring. Quickly he raced forward and struck his sword deep into the dragon's soft underbelly. The beast roared with pain and dropped its bloody victim.

King Beowulf past the doors of death, blinded in agony, pulled out his dagger slashed forward and tore out the dragon's throat.

The old warrior then slumped forward. His life's course now spent. Brave Wiglaf held his head and listen to his dying breath. The noble corpse was placed on a cart surrounded by the dragon's horde and led solemnly home. The mighty hero was cremated on a pyre and great burial mound was raised in his honour. Beowulf's name shall live forever.