CHAPTER XVIII "EXODUS" THE poem of the Exodus, in the judgment of nearly all the critics, is by a single writer who had nothing to do with either the Genesis or the Daniel. It certainly stands alone, a complete and united whole. Even the episode which is intruded into the midst of the overthrow of the Egyptians, and which links the Israelites back to Abraham, is judged by Wülker and others to be by the same writer as the rest of the poem. If so, he is less of an artist than I should otherwise think him. The episode interrupts the story at the moment of its greatest interest, and is also excessively dull. I can scarcely conceive that a writer, who has some sense at least of unity and of choosing the best things to describe, can have been so dull. I should rather think that he or some one else wrote this piece as a separate song-as a kind of explanatory gloss -and that afterwards it was inserted by a stupid copyist into the poem. At any rate, this is not a poem which lends itself to critical disintegration. We are spared A, B, and C, and all their tribe.' The thing is a whole, and can be spoken of as such. It is taken up with one event- with the Exodus - the beginning, progress and close of which it records; it moves swiftly and it ends well. Triumph begins it and triumph conIcludes it. In the midst is the trial of the Israelites and the destruction of the Egyptians. The use of dialogue is not so common as in the Genesis; and when it is used it is brief and dry. On the other hand, the descriptive parts are long, and elaborately treated. We are by no means so close to human nature as we are in the Genesis. In this poem there is neither the simplicity of human feeling we find in Genesis A, nor the intellectual subtlety which belongs to Genesis B. Description, not passion, fills the lines; but the 1 It has been done, however, by Strobl and others, but fortunately not so as to convince even the giants of disintegration. description is of a more careful and conscious finish than any in the Genesis. There is no actual battle such as that between Abraham and the kings of the East, but war and the circumstance of war are a great pleasure to this writer. The gathering of hosts, their march, ensigns and music, their ordering, their camping, the appearances and speeches of the chiefs, are drawn with so much clearness and personal interest that we feel that the writer had been an eager warrior. The real battle of the poem is the battle of God, and of the charging waves God wields, with Pharaoh and his host; and a fine piece of rough early work it is. God strikes, to let the water-destruction loose, the walls of wave on either hand "with an ancient sword." It is no battle then of host with host, but of Jehovah Himself, wielding the elements as His weapons, with Pharaoh. A great number of curious, vigorous, and pictorial expressions, of which the sense is too often repeated, mark a time much later than the quieter style of the earlier Genesis; and the freer handling of the Bible story, as if the writer had wholly rejected paraphrase in order to compose a work of art, is some proof of a later date. I am not sure that the poetry is not too forcible, too much desirous of effect, too flamboyant, if I may be allowed that term; and were this true of the whole, as it certainly is of some parts, it would be characteristic of a poetic period which had just taken its first turn towards sensationalism, but which, nevertheless, retained a great deal of the power of a simpler and more natural age of song. There is also no sense of regret or looking back in the poem, such as we find in Cynewulf's later work. Wherever in date we put Judith, we may put the Exodus. There is in both the same literary audacity and youthful exuberance. The Exodus opens with a celebration of Moses as the giver of laws and as a leader of men, beloved of God and consecrated to the deliverance of Israel. His future work in Canaan is briefly touched. Then we hear that it was in the desert of Sinai, before the Exodus, that the truth about creation was revealed to him; in what way "the Lord, mighty in victory, set the rounded circle of the earth and on high the firmament"; and at this point, after thirty lines of brief introduction, the poet sweeps instantly into his subject, and with a fine image which carries with it the central matter of the poem 33. Then in that old time, and with ancient punishments,2 (Deeply) drenched with death was the dreadest of all folk. 1 There is another rendering of this which I mention in its place. First, the fate of the first-born is described, and the words used are full of interest 47. By the death of hoard-wards Over middle-earth wailing was renewed; far and wide the Bane strode; of the laughter-smiths ! 1 Then follows the journey to Ethan, through "many a narrow pass and unknown ways, until, all armed, they came to the dark warriors (the Ethiopians), whose lands were covered with a helm of air, and whose march-fortresses were on the moorland." Below them lay "the land of the Sun-men, the burnt-up city heights, and the folk embrowned with hot coals of heaven. But the holy God shielded the folk against the dreadful glare, o'erspread the blazing heaven with a veil, with a holy network.3 It drank the fire-flame up, and the heroes were amazed; gladdest of troops were they. The o'ershading of the Day-Shield' wended (was drawn over) the welkin, for the God of wisdom had overtented the pathway of the Sun with a sail, though the men saw nothing of the mast-ropes nor of the spars of the sail, nor how was fastened down that greatest of field-houses. When the third encampment brought comfort to the folk, all the army saw how high were uplifted the sacred sails! 'Twas a Lift-wonder, flashing light; and the 1 This is one of the short and vivid phrases of this writer. All who made laughter sat with hands clasped in woe; and the word "laughter-smiths" is peculiar to this poet, who goes out of his way to be strange. 2 Mearchofu morheald,"moor-holding mark-enclosures." This reads like a personal remembrance, perhaps of forts on the Northumbrian border. 3 Another of this poet's favourite metaphors is that of a Net. Here the cloud-shield is like a woven web. At line 202 an army is wael-net, "slaughternet." 4 I suppose this is the concave firmament which is conceived of as a shield hung over the earth, under whose hollow the day abides. But it may be the sun itself, which in Icelandic poetry is sometimes called the shield of the sky. Grein translates Daeg-scealdes, "Tag-schiffes," perhaps to bring it into harmony with the strange and, I think, unique metaphor of the sail which follows. But the shield-image is, I think, right. I cannot but fancy from several phrases in the passage that the writer had heard of the velarium spread over the amphitheatre, and that he used the image of it here to express the mistcovering, the pillar of cloud, which protected the Israelites from the blaze of the sun. If this conjecture be right, it explains the ropes, the mast, and the mighty tent"greatest of field-houses." people knew that the Lord had come Himself to mark their camping out." This sail is the poet's shaping of the pillar of cloud which led them by day. "The sail directed their journey." He then describes the pillar of fire by night, and his imagination. pictures its effect upon the armour of the host in the shadows of the night, and how it drove away from the hearts of the Israelites that terror of the waste-land of which we have heard in Beowulf 111. Brilliantly sheen, a fiery light! Stood above the shooters, 'Twas a new night-warder 1 shadows slunk away. Heaven's candle blazed (so who must of necessity that the wan-gray heath, Through the terror of its waste, through its tempests, ocean-like, Fiery flaming locks had Brilliant were his beams; that Forward-ganger; bale and terror boded he with the heat of flaming fire.2 At length "the sea-fastness at the limit of the land withstood the men." There they rested, while the "meat-thegns" waited on them with food. "At the sounding of the trumpet, the sailors (so the poet calls them) spread out the tents along the slopes of the mountains. The fourth encampment then, this resting-place of the shield-warriors, was by the Red Sea shore." While they rested, "dreadful tidings from inland came into their camp. The loathly foe was on their track. Hopeless grew their heart when they sighted clear, from the Southern ways, Pharaoh's fyrd a-forward ganging." I have translated (vol. i. 181) the fine passage which follows, describing the coming of the Egyptian host-flags flying, trumpets sounding, the ravens circling above it, the wolves 1 That is, the fire-pillar was so bright that the deep shadows of night, flying to their cave, where they sheltered and lived by day-a common conception could scarcely hide it from the attack of the light, or, prevent the light from discovering it. 2 This looks like the description of a comet, done from memory or from sight. The fiery locks, the forward movement suggest this, and the boding of bale-terror is a part of the popular superstition of comets. I have looked into the Chronicle. In 678 "a comet (the Star Cometa) appeared in August and shone like a sunbeam every morning for three months." This then Caedmon saw. In 729 the entry is, "This year a comet appeared, and St. Ecgberht died at Ii." In 892 another is recorded: "Some men say in English that it is a hairy star, because a long radiance streams from it, sometimes on one, and sometimes on the other side." howling on its skirts, the haughty thegns riding in the van, the king with his standard in front of his thegns, fastening his visored helm, shaking his linked armour. Close beside him riding were his veteran comrades- hoary wolves of war, who greeted the battle, thirsting for the fray, faithful to their lord. The well-known horn gave order by its notes how the host should march along! So the dusky warriors heavily moved on, troop after troop, thousands and thousands of fighters. "But in the camp of Israel weeping was upraised, an awful evening song. Terrors stood round them and guarded the death-net, as the noise (of marching hosts) came on and the frightful tidings flew." But he turns to contrast the glory of the host of Pharaoh with the dark fate that was at hand. Haughty, battle-brilliant were the warriors, but their doom was already dealt. 1 The next part opens with the rousing of the Israelites. All night, hopeless, they sat on the hill-slopes in gleaming weeds of war, till Moses bade the earls 216. With the blare of brass at the break of day and the frack to rouse, All the folk to gather dream of noble deeds, with their banners call Swiftly then the watchmen Nearer to the strand the squadrons! Now bethought them of the war-cry. Hastened was the host! Struck their tents the sailors. The twelve tribes are marshalled under their leaders, their numbers are counted; the gray-headed warriors are left aside, "and the youths who could not yet guard their breast-net against the foe under the rim of the shield," nor had yet endured the "boastful play of the spear." Quick and eager were they all when the pillar of gleaming cloud showed them their way. 248. Brightest this of beams : Then uprode their banner, near the pourings of the sea, 1 The passage is obscure. I think it is the poet's reading of the 19th verse of the 14th chapter of Exodus: "And the angel of God, which went before the camp of Israel, removed and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them. It was a darkness to the Egyptians." A terror then stood round the host of the Israelites, and defended their army-"the slaughter-net." This phrase, in the writer's fantastic metaphor, may mean the interlocked array of the army. 2 This banner is, I suppose, the cloud-pillar, "the boder of their path" (si-boda). It comes in front of them in the morning, glowing bright, and its gleam is reflected on the linden-shields, as it breaks like the sun through the |