Beowulf: An Introduction to the Study of the Poem with a Discussion of the Stories of Offa and Finn

by R. W. Chambers

This Offa I, king of Angel, is referred to in Widsith. Widsith is a composite poem: the passage concerning Offa, though not the most obviously primitive portion of it, is, nevertheless, early: it may well be earlier than Beowulf. After a list of famous chieftains we are told:

Offa ruled Angel, Alewih the Danes; he was the boldest of all these men, yet did he not in his deeds of valour surpass Offa. But Offa gained, first of men, by arms the greatest of kingdoms whilst yet a boy; no one of equal age ever did greater deeds of valour in battle with his single sword: he drew the boundary against the Myrgingas at Fifeldor. The boundaries were held afterwards by the Angles and the Swæfe as Offa struck it out.

Much is obscure here: more particularly our ignorance as to the Myrgingas is to be regretted: but there is reason for thinking that they were a people dwelling to the south of the old continental home of the Angles.

After the lapse of some five centuries, we get abundant further information concerning Offa. The legends about him, though carried to England by the Anglian conquerors, must also have survived in the neighbourhood of his old kingdom of Angel: for as Angel was incorporated into the Danish kingdom, so these stories became part of the stock of Danish national legend. Offa came to be regarded as a Danish king, and his story is told at length by the two earliest historians of Denmark, Sweyn Aageson and Saxo Grammaticus. In Saxo the story runs thus:

Wermund, king of Denmark, had a son Uffo [Offa], tall beyond the measure of his age, but dull and speechless. When Wermund grew blind, his southern neighbour, the king of Saxony, laid claim to Denmark on the ground that he was no longer fit to rule, and, relying upon Uffo's incapacity, suggested that the quarrel should be decided by their two sons in single combat. Wermund, in despair, offered himself to fight, in spite of his blindness: this offer the envoys of the Saxon king refused with insult, and the Danes knew not what to say. Thereupon Uffo, who happened to be present, suddenly asked leave to speak. Wermund could not believe that it was really his son who had spoken, but when they all assured him that it was, he gave the permission. "In vain," then said Uffo, "does the king of Saxony covet the land of Denmark, which trusts to its true king and its brave nobles: neither is a son wanting to the king nor a successor to the kingdom." And he offered to fight not only the Saxon prince, but any chosen champion the prince might bring with him.

The Saxon envoys accepted the offer and departed. The blind king was at last convinced, by passing his hands over him, that the speaker had been in truth his son. But it was found difficult to arm him; for his broad chest split the rings of every coat of mail: the largest, his father's, had to be cleft down the side and fastened with a clasp. Likewise no sword

was so well tempered that he did not shatter it by merely brandishing it, till the old king directed his men how they might find his ancient sword, Skrep (= ? stedfast) which he had buried, in despair, thinking his son unworthy of it. The sword, when found, was so frail from age that Uffo did not test it: for Wermund told him that, if he broke it, there was no other left strong enough for him.

So Uffo and his two antagonists were taken to the place of combat, an island in the river Eider. Crowds lined either bank, and Wermund stood prepared to throw himself into the river should his son be slain. Uffo held back at first, till he had discovered which of his antagonists was the more dangerous, since he feared the sword would only be good for one blow. Then, having by his taunts induced the champion to come to close quarters, he clove him asunder with one stroke. Wermund cried out that he had heard the sound of his son's sword, and asked where the blow had fallen: his attendants assured him that it had pierced, not any particular part, but the man's whole structure.

So Wermund drew back from the edge, desiring life now as keenly as before he had longed for death. Finally Uffo smote his second antagonist through, thus opening a career which after such a beginning we may well believe to have been glorious.