The Return Of The Shadow Part 1
The Return of the Shadow.
The History of Middle-Earth Volume 6.
J. R. R. Tolkien.
To Rayner Unwin.
I met a lot of things on the way that astonished me. Tom Bombadil I knew already; but I had never been to Bree. Strider sitting in the corner at the inn was a shock, and I had no more idea who he was than had Frodo. The Mines of Moria had been a mere name; and of Lothlrien no word had reached my mortal ears till I came there. Far away I knew there were the Horse-lords on the confines of an ancient Kingdom of Men, but Fangorn Forest was an unforeseen adventure. I had never heard of the House of Eorl nor of the Stewards of Gondor. Most disquieting of all, Saruman had never been revealed to me, and I was as mystified as Frodo at Gandalf's failure to appear on September 22.
J. R. R. Tolkien, in a letter to W. H. Auden, 7 June 1955.
FOREWORD.
As is well known, the ma.n.u.scripts and typescripts of The Lord of the Rings were sold by J. R. R. Tolkien to Marquette University, Milwaukee, a few years after its publication, together with those of The Hobbit and Farmer Giles of Ham, and also Mr. Bliss. A long time elapsed between the shipment of these latter papers, which reached Marquette in July 1957, and that of The Lord of the Rings, which did not arrive until the following year. The reason for this was that my father had undertaken to sort, annotate, and date the multifarious ma.n.u.scripts of The Lord of the Rings, but found it impossible at that time to do the work required. It is clear that he never did so, and in the end let the papers go just as they were; it was noted when they reached Marquette that they were 'in no order'. Had he done so, he must have seen at that time that, very large though the ma.n.u.script collection was, it was nonetheless incomplete.
Seven years later, in 1965, when he was working on the revision of The Lord of the Rings, he wrote to the Director of Libraries at Marquette, asking if a certain scheme of dates and events in the narrative was to be found there, since he had 'never made out any full schedule or note of the papers transferred to you.' In this letter he explained that the transfer had taken place at a time when his papers were dispersed between his house in Headington (Oxford) and his rooms in Merton College; and he also said that he now found himself still in possession of 'written matter' that 'should belong to you'. when he had finished the revision of The Lord of the Rings he would look into the question. But he did not do so.
These papers pa.s.sed to me on his death eight years later; but though Humphrey Carpenter made reference to them in his Biography (1977) and cited from them some early notes, I neglected them for many years, being absorbed in the long work of tracing the evolution of the-narratives of the Elder Days, the legends of Beleriand and Valinor. The publication of Volume III of 'The History of Middle-earth' was already approaching before I had any idea that the 'History' might extend to an account of the writing of The Lord of the Rings. During the last three years, however, I have been engaged at intervals in the decipherment and a.n.a.lysis of The Lord of the Rings ma.n.u.scripts in my possession (a task still far from completed). It has emerged from this that the papers left behind in 1958 consist largely of the earliest phases of composition, although in some cases (and most notably in the first chapter, which was rewritten many times over) successive versions found among these papers bring the narrative to an advanced state. In general, however, it was only the initial notes and earliest drafts, with outlines for the further course of the story, that remained in England when the great bulk of the papers went to Marquette.
I do not of course know how it came about that these particular ma.n.u.scripts came to be left out of the consignment to Marquette; but I think that an explanation in general terms can be found readily enough. Immensely prolific as my father was ('I found not being able to use a pen or pencil as defeating as the loss of her beak would be to a hen,' he wrote to Stanley Unwin in 1963, when suffering from an ailment in his right arm), constantly revising, re-using, beginning again, but never throwing any of his writing away, his papers became inextricably complex, disorganised, and dispersed. It does not seem likely that at the time of the transfer to Marquette he would have been greatly concerned with or have had any precise recollection of the early drafts, some of them supplanted and overtaken as much as twenty years before; and no doubt they had long since been set aside, forgotten, and buried.
However this may be, it is self-evidently desirable that the separated ma.n.u.scripts should be joined together again, and the whole corpus preserved in one place. This must have been my father's intention at the time of the original sale; and accordingly the ma.n.u.scripts at present in my keeping will be handed over to Marquette University.
The greater part of the material cited or described in this book is found in the papers that remained behind; but the third section of the book (called 'The Third Phase') const.i.tuted a difficult problem, because in this case the ma.n.u.scripts were divided. Most of the chapters in this 'phase' of composition went to Marquette in 1958, but substantial parts of several of them did not. These parts had become separated because my father had rejected them, while using the remainder as const.i.tuent elements in new versions. The interpretation of this part of the history would have been altogether impossible without very full co-operation from Marquette, and this I have abundantly received. Above all, Mr Taum Santoski has engaged with great skill and care in a complex operation in which we have exchanged over many months annotated copies of the texts; and it has been possible in this way to determine the textual history, and to reconstruct the original ma.n.u.scripts which my father himself dismembered nearly half a century ago. I record with pleasure and deep appreciation the generous a.s.sistance that I have received from him, and also from Mr Charles B. Elston, the Archivist of the Memorial Library at Marquette, from Mr John D. Rateliff, and from Miss Tracy Muench.
This attempt to give an account of the first stages in the writing of The Lard of the Rings has been beset by other difficulties than the fact of the ma.n.u.scripts being widely sundered; difficulties primarily in the interpretation of the sequence of writing, but also in the presentation of the results in a printed book.
Briefly, the writing proceeded in a series of 'waves' or (as I have called them in this book) 'phases'. The first chapter was itself reconst.i.tuted three times before the hobbits ever left Hobbiton, but the story then went all the way to Rivendell before the impulse failed. My father then started again from the beginning (the 'second phase'), and then again (the 'third phase'); and as new narrative elements and new names and relations among the characters appeared they were written into previous drafts, at different times. Parts of a text were taken out and used elsewhere. Alternative versions were incorporated into the same ma.n.u.script, so that the story could be read in more than one way according to the directions given. To determine the sequence of these exceedingly complex movements with demonstrable correctness at all points is scarcely possible. One or-two dates that my father wrote in are insufficient to give more than very limited a.s.sistance, and references to the progress of the work in his letters are unclear and hard to interpret. Differences of script can be very misleading. Thus the determination of the history of composition has to be based very largely on clues afforded by the evolution of names and motives in the narrative itself; but in this there is every possibility of going astray through mistaking the relative dates of additions and alterations. Exemplification of these problems will be found throughout the book. I do not suppose for one moment that I have succeeded in determining the history correctly at every point: indeed there remain several cases where the evidence appears to be contradictory and I can offer no solution. The nature of the ma.n.u.scripts is such that they will probably always admit of differing interpretations. But the sequence of composition that I propose, after much experimentation with alternative theories, seems to me to fit the evidence very much the best.
The earliest plot-outlines and narrative drafts are often barely legible, and become more difficult as the work proceeded. Using any sc.r.a.p of the wretched paper of the war years that came to hand - sometimes writing not merely on the backs of examination scripts but across the scripts themselves - my father would dash down elliptically his thoughts for the story to come, and his first formulations of narrative, at tearing speed. In the handwriting that he used for rapid drafts and sketches, not intended to endure long before he turned to them again and gave them a more workable form, letters are so loosely formed that a word which cannot be deduced or guessed at from the context or from later versions can prove perfectly opaque after long examination; and if, as he often did, he used a soft pencil much has now become blurred and faint. This must be borne in mind throughout: the earliest drafts were put urgently to paper just as the first words came to mind and before the thought dissolved, whereas the printed text (apart from a sprinkling of dots and queries in the face of illegibility) inevitably conveys an air of calm and ordered composition, the phrasing weighed and intended.
Turning to the way in which the material is presented in this book, the most intractable problem lies in the development of the story through successive drafts, always changing but always closely dependent on what preceded. In the rather extreme case of the opening chapter 'A Long-expected Party', there are in this book six main texts to be considered and a number of abandoned openings. A complete presentation of all the material for this one chapter would almost const.i.tute a book in itself, not to speak of a ma.s.s of repet.i.tion or near-repet.i.tion. On the other hand, a succession of texts reduced to extracts and short citations (where the versions differ significantly from their predecessors) is not easy to follow, and if the development is traced at all closely this method also takes up much s.p.a.ce. There is no really satisfactory solution to this. The editor must take responsibility for selecting and emphasizing those elements that he considers most interesting and most significant. In general I give the earliest narrative complete, or nearly complete, in each chapter, as the basis to which subsequent development can be referred. Different treatment of the ma.n.u.scripts calls for different arrangement of the editorial element: where texts are given more or less in full much use is made of numbered notes (which may const.i.tute an important part of the presentation of a complex text), but where they are not the chapter proceeds rather as a discussion with citations.
My father bestowed immense pains on the creation of The Lord of the Rings, and my intention has been that this record of his first years of work on it should reflect those pains. The first part of the story, before the Ring left Rivendell, took by far the most labour to achieve (hence the length of this book in relation to the whole story); and the doubts, indecisions, unpickings, restructurings, and false starts have been described. The result is necessarily extremely intricate; but whereas it would be possible to recount the history in a greatly reduced and abbreviated form, I am convinced that to omit difficult detail or to oversimplify problems and explanations would rob the study of its essential interest.
My object has been to give an account of the writing of The Lord of the Rings, to exhibit the subtle process of change that could transform the significance of events and the ident.i.ty of persons while preserving those scenes and the words that were spoken from the earliest drafts. I therefore (for example) pursue in detail the history of the two hobbits who ultimately issued in Peregrin Took and Fredegar Bolger, but only after the most extraordinary permutations and coalescences of name, character, and role; on the other hand I refrain from all discussion that is not directly relevant to the evolution of the narrative.
In the nature of the book, I a.s.sume conversance with The Fellowship of the Ring, and comparison is made throughout of course with the published work. Page-references to The Fellowship of the Ring (abbreviated FR) are given to the three-volume hardback edition of The Lord of the Rings (LR) published by George Allen and Unwin (now Unwin Hyman) and Houghton Mifflin Company, this being the edition common to both England and America, but I think that it will be found in fact that almost all such references can be readily traced in any edition, since the precise point referred to in the final form of the story is nearly always evident from the context.
In the 'first phase' of writing, which took the story to Rivendell, most of the chapters were t.i.tle-less, and subsequently there was much shifting in the division of the story into chapters, with variation in t.i.tles and numbers. I have thought it best therefore to avoid confusion by giving many of my chapters simple descriptive t.i.tles, such as 'From Hobbiton to the Woody End', indicating the content rather than relating them to the chapter-t.i.tles in The Fellowship of the Ring. As a t.i.tle for the book it seemed suitable to take one of my father's own suggested but abandoned t.i.tles for the first volume of The Lord of the Rings. In a letter to Rayner Unwin of 8 August 1953 (The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien, no. 139) he proposed The Return of the Shadow.
No account is given in this book of the history of the writing of The Hobbit up to its original publication in 1937, although, from the nature of its relationship to The Lord of the Rings, the published work is constantly referred to. That relationship is curious and complex. My father several times expressed his view of it, but most fully and (as I think) most accurately in the course of a long letter to Christopher Bretherton written in July 1964 (Letters no. 257): I returned to Oxford in Jan. 1926, and by the time The Hobbit appeared (1937) this 'matter of the Elder Days' was in coherent form. The Hobbit was not intended to have anything to do with it. I had the habit while my children were still young of inventing and telling orally, sometimes of writing down, 'children's stories' for their private amus.e.m.e.nt... The Hobbit was intended to be one of them. It had no necessary connexion with the 'mythology', but naturally became attracted towards this dominant construction in my mind, causing the tale to become larger and more heroic as it proceeded. Even so it could really stand quite apart, except for the references (unnecessary, though they give an impression of historical depth) to the Fall of Gondolin, the branches of the Elfkin, and the quarrel of King Thingol, Luthien's father, with the Dwarves...
The magic ring was the one obvious thing in The Hobbit that could be connected with my mythology. To be the burden of a large story it had to be of supreme importance. I then linked it with the (originally) quite casual reference to the Necromancer, whose function was hardly more than to provide a reason for Gandalf going away and leaving Bilbo and the Dwarves to fend for themselves, which was necessary for the tale. From The Hobbit are also derived the matter of the Dwarves, Durin their prime ancestor, and Moria; and Elrond. The pa.s.sage in Ch. iii relating him to the Half-elven of the mythology was a fortunate accident, due to the difficulty of constantly inventing good names for new characters. I gave him the name Elrond casually, but as this came from the mythology (Elros and Elrond the two sons of Earendel) I made him half-elven. Only in The Lord was he identified with the son of Earendel, and so the great- grandson of Luthien and Beren, a great power and a Ringholder.
How my father saw The Hobbit - specifically in relation to 'The Silmarillion' - at the time of its publication is shown clearly in the letter that he wrote to G. E. Selby on 14 December 1937: I don't much approve of The Hobbit myself, preferring my own mythology (which is just touched on) with its consistent no-menclature - Elrond, Gondolin, and Esgaroth have escaped out of it - and organized history, to this rabble of Eddaic-named dwarves out of Voluspa, newfangled hobbits and gollums (invented in an idle hour) and Anglo-Saxon runes.
The importance of The Hobbit in the history of the evolution of Middle-earth lies then, at this time, in the fact that it was published, and that a sequel to it was demanded. As a result, from the nature of The Lord of the Rings as it evolved, The Hobbit was drawn into Middle-earth - and transformed it; but as it stood in I937 it was not a part of it. Its significance for Middle-earth lies in what it would do, not in what it was.
Later, The Lord of the Rings in turn reacted upon The Hobbit itself, in published and in (far more extensive) unpublished revisions of the text; but all that lies of course far in the future at the point which this History has reached.
In the ma.n.u.scripts of The Lord of the Rings there is extreme inconsistency in such matters as the use of capital letters and hyphens, and the separation of elements in compound names. In my representation of the texts I have not imposed any standardization in this respect, though using consistent forms in my own discussions.
THE FIRST PHASE.
I. A LONG-EXPECTED PARTY.
(i) The First Version.
The original written starting-point of The Lord of the Rings - its 'first germ', as my father scribbled on the text long after - has been preserved: a ma.n.u.script of five pages ent.i.tled A long-expected party. I think that it must have been to this (rather than to a second, unfinished, draft that soon followed it) that my father referred when on 19 December 1937 he wrote to Charles Furth at Allen and Unwin: 'I have written the first chapter of a new story about Hobbits - "A long expected party".' Only three days before he had written to Stanley Unwin: I think it is plain that... a sequel or successor to The Hobbit is called for. I promise to give this thought and attention. But I am sure you will sympathize when I say that the construction of elaborate and consistent mythology (and two languages) rather occupies the mind, and the Silmarils are in my heart. So that goodness knows what will happen. Mr Baggins began as a comic tale among conventional Grimm's fairy- tale dwarves, and got drawn into the edge of it - so that even Sauron the terrible peeped over the edge. And what more can hobbits do? They can be comic, but their comedy is suburban unless it is set against things more elemental.
From this it seems plain that on the 16th of December he had not only not begun writing, but in all probability had not even given thought to the substance of 'a new story about Hobbits'. Not long before he had parted with the ma.n.u.script of the third version of The Silmarillion to Allen and Unwin; it was unfinished, and he was still deeply immersed in it. In a postscript to this letter to Stanley Unwin he acknowledged, in fact, the return of The Silmarillion (and other things) later on that day. Nonetheless, he must have begun on the new story there and then.
When he first put pen to paper he wrote in large letters 'When M', but he stopped before completing the final stroke of the M and wrote instead 'When Bilbo...' The text begins in a handsome script, but the writing becomes progessively faster and deteriorates at the end into a rapid scrawl not at all points legible. There are a good many alterations to the ma.n.u.script. The text that follows represents the original form as I judge it to have been, granting that what is 'original' and what is not cannot be perfectly distinguished. Some changes can be seen to have been made at the moment of writing, and these are taken up into the text; but others are characteristic antic.i.p.ations of the following version, and these are ignored. In any case it is highly probable that my father wrote the versions of this opening chapter in quick succession. Notes to this version follow immediately on the end of the text (p. 17).
A long-expected party (1).
When Bilbo, son of Bungo of the family of Baggins, [had celebrated >] prepared to celebrate his seventieth birthday there was for a day or two some talk in the neighbourhood. He had once had a little fleeting fame among the people of Hobbiton and Bywater - he had disappeared after breakfast one April 30th and not reappeared until lunchtime on June 22nd in the following year. A very odd proceeding for which he had never given any good reason, and of which he wrote a nonsensical account. After that he returned to normal ways; and the shaken confidence of the district was gradually restored, especially as Bilbo seemed by some unexplained method to have become more than comfortably off, if not positively wealthy. Indeed it was the magnificence of the party rather than the fleeting fame that at first caused the talk - after all that other odd business had happened some twenty years before and was becoming decently forgotten. The magnificence of the preparations for the party, I should say. The field to the south of his front door was being covered with pavilions. Invitations were being sent out to all the Bagginses and all the Tooks (his relatives on his mother's side), and to the Grubbs (only remotely connected); and to the Burroweses, the Boffinses, the Chubbses and the Proudfeet: none of whom were connected at all within the memory of the local historians - some of them lived on the other side of the shire; but they were all, of course, hobbits. Even the Sackville-Bagginses, his cousins on his father's side, were not forgotten. There had been a feud between them and Mr Bilbo Baggins, as some of you may remember. But so splendid was the invitation-card, all written in gold, that they were induced to accept; besides, their cousin had been specializing in good food for a long time, and his tables had a high reputation even in that time and country when food was still what it ought to be and abundant enough for all folk to practise on.
Everyone expected a pleasant feast; though they rather dreaded the after-dinner speech of their host. He was liable to drag in bits of what he called poetry, and even to allude, after a gla.s.s or two, to the absurd adventures he said he had had long ago during his ridiculous vanishment. They had a eery pleasant feast: indeed an engrossing entertainment. The purchase of provisions fell almost to zero throughout the whole shire during the ensuing week; but as Mr Baggins' catering had emptied all the stores, cellars and warehouses for miles around, that did not matter. Then came the speech. Most of the a.s.sembled hobbits were now in a tolerant mood, and their former fears were forgotten. They were prepared to listen to anything, and to cheer at every full stop. But they were not prepared to be startled. But they were - completely and unprecedentedly startled; some even had indigestion.
'My dear people,' began Mr Baggins. 'Hear, hear!' they replied in chorus. 'My dear Bagginses,' he went on, standing now on his chair, so that the light of the lanterns that illuminated the enormous pavilion flashed upon the gold b.u.t.tons of his embroidered waistcoat for all to see. 'And my dear Tooks, and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burroweses, and Boffinses, and Proudfoots.'(2) 'Proudfeet' shouted an elderly hobbit from the back. His name of course was Proudfoot, and merited; his feet were large, exceptionally furry, and both were on the table. 'Also my dear Sackville- Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag-end,' Bilbo continued. 'Today is my seventieth birthday.' 'Hurray hurray and many happy returns! ' they shouted. That was the sort of stuff they liked: short, obvious, uncontroversial.
'I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am.' Deafening cheers, cries of yes (and no), and noises of trumpets and whistles. There were a great many junior hobbits present, as hobbits were indulgent to their children, especially if there was a chance of an extra meal. Hundreds of musical crackers had been pulled. Most of them were labelled 'Made in Dale'. What that meant only Bilbo and a few of his Took-nephews knew; but they were very marvellous crackers. 'I have called you all together,' Bilbo went on when the last cheer died away, and something in his voice made a few of the Tooks p.r.i.c.k up their ears. 'First of all to tell you that I am immensely fond of you, and that seventy years is too short a time to live among such excellent and charming hobbits' - 'hear hear!''I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and less than half of you half as well as you deserve.' No cheers, a few claps - most of them were trying to work it out. 'Secondly to celebrate my birthday and the twentieth year of my return' - an uncomfortable rustle. 'Lastly to make an Announcement.' He said this very loud and everybody sat up who could. 'Goodbye! I am going away after dinner. Also I am going to get married.'He sat down. The silence was flabbergastation. It was broken only by Mr Proudfoot, who kicked over the table; Mrs Proudfoot choked in the middle of a drink.
That's that. It merely serves to explain that Bilbo Baggins got married and had many children, because I am going to tell you a story about one of his descendants, and if you had only read his memoirs up to the date of Balin's visit - ten years at least before this birthday party - you might have been puzzled.(3) As a matter of fact Bilbo Baggins disappeared silently and unnoticed - the ring was in his hand even while he made his speech - in the middle of the confused outburst of talk that followed the flabbergasted silence. He was never seen in Hobbiton again. When the carriages came for the guests there was no one to say good-bye to. The carriages rolled away, one after another, filled with full but oddly unsatisfied hobbits. Gardeners came (by appointment) and cleared away in wheelbarrows those that had inadvertently remained. Night settled down and pa.s.sed. The sun rose. People came to clear away the pavilions and the tables and the chairs and the lanterns and the flowering trees in boxes, and the spoons and knives and plates and forks, and crumbs, and the uneaten food - a very small parcel. Lots of other people came too. Bagginses and Sackville-Bagginses and Tooks, and people with even less business. By the middle of the morning (when even the best-fed were out and about again) there was quite a crowd at Bag-end, uninvited but not unexpected. ENTER was painted on a large white board outside the great front-door. The door was open. On everything inside there was a label tied. 'For Mungo Took, with love from Bilbo'; 'For Semolina Baggins, with love from her nephew', on a waste-paper basket - she had written him a deal of letters (mostly of good advice). 'For Caramella Took, with kind remembrances from her uncle', on a clock in the hall. Though unpunctual she had been a niece he rather liked, until coming late one day to tea she had declared his clock was fast. Bilbo's clocks were never either slow or fast, and he did not forget it. 'For Obo Took- Took, from his great-nephew', on a feather bed; Obo was seldom awake before i a noon or after tea, and snored. 'For Gorboduc Grubb with best wishes from B. Baggins' -on a gold fountain-pen; he never answered letters. 'For Angelica's use' on a mirror - she was a young Baggins and thought herself very comely.(4) 'For Inigo Grubb-Took', on a complete dinner- service - he was the greediest hobbit known to history. 'For Amalda Sackville-Baggins as a present', on a case of silver spoons. She was the wife of Bilbo's cousin, the one he had discovered years ago on his return measuring his dining-room (you may remember his suspicions about disappearing spoons: anyway neither he nor Amalda had forgotten).(5) Of course there were a thousand and one things in Bilbo's house, and all had labels- most of them with some point (which sank in after a time). The whole house-furniture was disposed of, but not a penny piece of money, nor a bra.s.s ring of jewelry, was to be found. Amalda was the only Sackville-Baggins remembered with a label - but then there was a notice in the hall saying that Mr Bilbo Baggins made over the desirable property or dwelling-hole known as Bag-end Underhill together with all lands thereto belonging or annexed to Sago Sackville-Baggins and his wife Amalda for them to have hold possess occupy or otherwise dispose of at their pleasure and discretion as from September 22nd next. It was then September 21st (Bilbo's birthday being on the 20th of that pleasant month). So the Sackville-Bagginses did live in Bag- end after all - though they had had to wait some twenty years. And they had a great deal of difficulty too getting all the labelled stuff out - labels got torn and mixed, and people tried to do swaps in the hall, and some tried to make off with stuff that was [not] being carefully watched; and various prying folk began knocking holes in walls and burrowing in cellars before they could be ejected. They were still worrying about the money and the jewelry. How Bilbo would have laughed. Indeed he was - he had foreseen how it would all fall out, and was enjoying the joke quite privately.
There, I suppose it has become all too plain. The fact is, in spite of his after-dinner speech, he had grown suddenly very tired of them all. The Tookishness (not of course that all Tooks ever had much of this wayward quality) had quite suddenly and uncomfortably come to life again. Also another secret - after he had blowed his last fifty ducats on the party he had not got any money or jewelry left, except the ring, and the gold b.u.t.tons on his waistcoat. He had spent it all in twenty years (even the proceeds of his beautiful.... which he had sold a few years back).(6) Then how could he get married? He was not going to just then - he merely said 'I am going to get married'. I cannot quite say why. It came suddenly into his head. Also he thought it was an event that might occur in the future - if he travelled again amongst other folk, or found a more rare and more beautiful race of hobbits somewhere. Also it was a kind of explanation. Hobbits had a curious habit in their weddings. They kept it (always officially and very often actually) a dead secret for years who they were going to marry, even when they knew. Then they suddenly went and got married and went off without an address for a week or two (or even longer). When Bilbo had disappeared this is what at first his neighbours thought. 'He has gone and got married. Now who can it be? - no one else has disappeared, as far as we know.' Even after a year they- would have been less surprised if he had come back with a wife. For a long while some folk thought he was keeping one in hiding, and quite a legend about the poor Mrs Bilbo who was too ugly to be seen grew up for a while.
So now Bilbo said before he disappeared: 'I am going to get married.' He thought that that - together with all the fuss about the house (or hole) and furniture - would keep them all busy and satisfied for a long while, so that no one would bother to hunt for him for a bit. And he was right - or nearly right. For no one ever bothered to hunt for him at all. They decided he had gone mad, and run off till he met a pool or a river or a steep fall, and there was one Baggins the less. Most of them, that is. He was deeply regretted by a few of his younger friends of course (... Angelica and Sar......). But he had not said good-bye to all of them - O no. That is easily explained.
NOTES.
1. The t.i.tle was written in subsequently, but no doubt before the chapter was finished, since my father referred to it by this t.i.tle in his letter of 19 December 1937 (p. 11).
2. After 'Burroweses' followed 'and Ogdens', but this was struck out - almost certainly at the time of writing. 'Proudfoots' was first written 'Proudfeet', as earlier in the chapter, but as the next sentence shows it was changed in the act of writing.
3. The reference is to the conclusion of The Hobbit, when Gandalf and Balin called at Bag End 'some years afterwards'.
4. At this point a present to Inigo Baggins of a case of hairbrushes was mentioned, but struck out, evidently at the time of writing, since the present to another Inigo (Grubb-Took) immediately follows.
5. Various changes were made to the names and other details in this pa.s.sage, not all of which were taken up in the third version (the second ends before this point). Mungo Took's gift (an umbrella) was specified; and Caramella Took was changed from niece to cousin. Gorboduc Grubb became Orlando Grubb. Pencilled proposals for the name of Mrs Sackville-Baggins, replacing Amalda, are Lonicera (Honeysuckle) and Griselda, and her husband Sago (named in the next paragraph of the text) became Cosmo.
6. Cf. the end of The Hobbit: 'His gold and silver was mostly [afterwards changed to largely] spent in presents, both useful and extravagant'. The illegible word here might possibly be arms, but it does not look like it, and cf. the same pa.s.sage in The Hobbit: 'His coat of mail was arranged on a stand in the hall (until he lent it to a Museum).'
Writing of this draft in his Biography, Humphrey Carpenter says (p. 185): The reason for his disappearance, as given in this first draft, is that Bilbo 'had not got any money or jewels left' and was going off in search of more dragon-gold. At this point the first version of the opening chapter breaks off, unfinished.
But it may be argued that it was in fact finished: for the next completed draft of the chapter (the third - the second seems certainly unfinished, and breaks off at a much earlier point) ends only a very little further on in the narrative (p. 34), and shortly before the end has: But not all of them had said good-bye to him. That is easily explained, and soon will be.
And the explanation is not given, but reserved for the next chapter. Nor is it made so explicit in the first draft that Bilbo was 'going off in search of more dragon-gold'. That lack of money was a reason for leaving his home is certainly the case, but a sudden Tookish disgust with hobbit dulness and conventionality is also emphasized; and in fact there is not so much as a hint of what Bilbo was planning to do. It may well be that on 19 December 1937 my father had no idea. The rapidly-written conclusion of the text strongly suggests uncertain direction (and indeed he had said earlier in the chapter that the story was going to be about one of Bilbo's descendants).
But while there is no sign of Gandalf, most of the essentials and many of the details of the actual party as it is described in The Fellowship of the Ring (FR) emerge right at the beginning, and even some phrases remained. The Chubbs (or Chubbses, p. 13), the Boffinses, and the Proudfoots now appear - the families named Burrowes (Burrows in FR) and Grubb had been mentioned at the end of The Hobbit, in the names of the auctioneers at the sale of Bag End; and the hobbits' land is for the first time called 'the shire' (see, however, p. 31). But the first names of the hobbits were only at the beginning of their protean variations - such names as Sago and Semolina would be rejected as unsuitable, others (Amalda, Inigo, Obo) would have no place in the final genealogies, and yet others (Mungo, Gorboduc) would be given to different persons; only the vain Angelica Baggins survived.
(ii) The Second Version.
The next ma.n.u.script, while closely based on the first, introduced much new material - most notably the arrival of Gandalf, and the fireworks. This version breaks off at the words 'Morning went on' (FR p. 45). The ma.n.u.script was much emended, and it is very difficult to distinguish those changes made at the time of composition from those made subsequently: in any case the third version no doubt followed hard upon the second, superseding it before it was completed. I give this second text also in full, so far as it goes, but in this case I include virtually all the emendations made to it (in some cases the original reading is given in the notes which follow the text on p. 25).
Chapter 1.
A long-expected party.
When Bilbo, son of Bungo, of the respectable family of Baggins prepared to celebrate his seventy-first (1) birthday there was some little talk in the neighbourhood, and people polished up their memories.(2) Bilbo had once had some brief notoriety amoug the hobbits of Hobbiton and Bywater - he had disappeared after breakfast one April 30th and had not reappeared until lunch-time on June 22nd in the following year. A very odd proceeding, and one for which he had never accounted satisfactorily. He wrote a book about it, of course: but even those who had read it never took that seriously. It is no good talking to hobbits about dragons: they either disbelieve you, or feel uncomfortable; and in either case tend to avoid you afterwards. Mr Baggins, however, had soon returned to more or less normal ways; and though the shaken confidence of the countryside was never quite restored, in time the hobbits agreed to pardon the past, and Bilbo was on calling-terms again with all his relatives and neighbours, except of course the Sackville-Bagginses. For one thing Bilbo seemed by some unexplained method to have become more than comfortably off, in fact positively wealthy. Indeed it was the magnificence of the preparations for his birthday-party far more than his brief and distant fame that caused the talk. After all that other odd business had happened some twenty years ago and was all but forgotten; the party was going to happen that very month of September. The weather was fine, and there was talk of a display of fireworks such as had not been seen since the days of Old Took.
Time drew nearer. Odd-looking carts with odd-looking packages began to toil up the Hill to Bag-end (the residence of Mr Bilbo Baggins). They arrived by night, and startled folk peered out of their doors to gape at them. Some were driven by outlandish folk singing strange songs, elves, or heavily hooded dwarves. There was one huge creaking wain with great lumbering tow-haired Men on it that caused quite a commotion. It bore a large B under a crown.(3) It could not get across the bridge by the mill, and the Men carried the goods on their backs up the hill - stumping on the hobbit road like elephants. All the beer at the inn vanished as if down a drain when they came downhill again. Later in the week a cart came trotting in in broad daylight. An old man was driving it all alone. He wore a tall pointed blue hat and a long grey cloak. Hobbit boys and girls ran after the cart all the way up the hill. It had a cargo of fireworks, that they could see when it began to unload: great bundles of them, labelled with a red G.
'G for grand,' they shouted; and that was as good a guess as they could make at its meaning. Not many of their elders guessed better: hobbits have rather short memories as a rule. As for the little old man,(4) he vanished inside Bilbo's front door and never reappeared.
There might have been some grumbling about 'dealing locally', but suddenly orders began to pour out from Bag-end, and into every shop in the neighbourhood (even widely measured). Then people stopped being merely curious, and became enthusiastic. They began to tick off the days on the calendar till Bilbo's birthday, and they began to watch for the postman, hoping for invitations.
Then the invitations began pouring out, and the post-office of Hobbiton was blocked, and Bywater post-office was snowed under, and voluntary postmen were called for. There was a constant stream of them going up The Hill to Bag-end carrying letters containing hundreds of polite variations on 'thank-you, I shall certainly come.' During all this time, for days and days, indeed since September [10th >] 8th, Bilbo had not been seen out or about by anyone. He either did not answer the bell, or came to the door and cried 'Sorry - Busy!' round the edge of it. They thought he was only writing invitation cards, but they were not quite right.
Finally the field to the south of his front door - it was bordered by his kitchen garden on one side and the Hill road on the other - began to be covered with tents and pavilions. The three hobbit- families of Bagshot Row just below it were immensely excited. There was one specially large pavilion, so large that the tree that stood in the field was inside it, standing growing in the middle.(5) It was hung all over with lanterns. Even more promising was the erection of a huge kitchen in a corner of the field. A draught of cooks arrived. Excitement rose to its height. Then the weather clouded over. That was on Friday, the eve of the party. Anxiety grew intense. Then Sat.u.r.day September [20th >] 22nd (6) actually dawned. The sun got up, the clouds vanished, flags were unfurled, and the fun began.
Mr Baggins called it a party - but it was several rolled into one and mixed up. Practically everybody near at hand was invited to something or other - very few were forgotten (by accident), and as they turned up anyhow it did not matter. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry - the latter were those that went out again by the back way and came in again by the front for a second helping. He began with the youngest and smallest, and came back again quickly to the smallest and youngest. Hobbits give presents to other people on their birthdays: not very expensive ones, of course. But it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbiton and Bywater, since every day in the year was somebody's birthday, it meant that every hobbit got a present (and sometimes more) almost every day of his life. But they did not get tired of them. On this occasion the hobbit-fry were wildly excited - there were toys the like of which they had never seen before. As you have guessed, they came from Dale.
When they got inside the grounds the guests had songs, dances, games - and of course food and drink. There were three official meals: lunch, tea, and dinner (or supper); but lunch and tea were marked chiefly by the fact that at those times everybody was sitting down and eating at the same time. Drinking never stopped. Eating went on pretty continuously from elevenses to six o'clock, when the fireworks started.
The fireworks of course (as you at any rate have guessed) were by Gandalf, and brought by him in person, and let off by him - the main ones: there was generous distribution of squibs, crackers, sparklers, torches, ' dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers and thunderclaps. They were of course superb. The art of Gandalf naturally got the older the better. There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices; there were green trees with trunks of twisted smoke: their leaves opened like a whole spring unfolding in a few minutes, and their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished hobbits - only to disappear in a sweet scent before they touched head hat or bonnet. There were fountains of b.u.t.terflies that flew into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that turned into hovering eagles, or sailing ships, or a flight of swans; there were red thunderstorms and showers of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that went suddenly up into the air with a yell like a charging army and came down into The Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes. And there was also one last thing in which Gandalf rather overdid it - after all, he knew a great deal about hobbits and their beliefs. The lights went out, a great smoke went up, it shaped itself like a mountain, it began to glow at the top, it burst into flames of scarlet and green, out flew a red-golden dragon (not life-size, of course, but terribly life-like): fire came out of its mouth, its eyes glared down, there was a roar and it whizzed three times round the crowd. Everyone ducked and some fell flat. The dragon pa.s.sed like an express train and burst over Bywater with a deafening explosion.
'That means it is dinner-time,' said Gandalf. A fortunate remark, for the pain and alarm vanished like magic. Now really we must hurry on, for all this is not as important as it seemed. There was a supper for all the guests. But there was also a very special dinner-party in the great pavilion with the tree. To that party invitations had been limited to twelve dozen, or one gross (in addition to Gandalf and the host), made up of all the chief hobbits, and their elder children, to whom Bilbo was related or with whom he was connected, or by whom he had been well- treated at any time, or for whom he felt some special affection. Nearly all the living Baggins[es] had been invited; a quant.i.ty of Tooks (his relations on his mother's side); a number of Grubbs (connections of his grandfather's), dozens of Brandybucks (connections of his grandmother's), and various Chubbs and Burrowses and Boffins and Proudfeet - some of whom were not connected with Bilbo at all, within the memory of the local historians; some even lived right on the other side of the Shire; but they were all, of course, hobbits. Even the Sackville-Bagginses, his first cousins on his father's side, were not omitted. There had been some coolness between them and Mr Baggins, as you may remember, dating from some 20 years back. But so splendid was the invitation card, written all in gold, that they felt it was impossible to refuse. Besides, their cousin had been specializing in food for a good many years, and his tables had a high reputation even in that time and country, when food was still all that it ought to be, and abundant enough for all folk to practise both discrimination and satisfaction.
All the 144 special guests expected a pleasant feast; though they rather dreaded the after-dinner speech of their host. He was liable to drag in bits of what he called 'poetry'; and sometimes, after a gla.s.s or two, would allude to the absurd adventures he said he had had long ago - during his ridiculous vanishment. Not one of the 144 were disappointed: they had a eery pleasant feast, indeed an engrossing entertainment: rich, abundant, varied, and prolonged. The purchase of provisions fell almost to zero throughout the district during the ensuing week; but as Mr Baggins' catering had depleted most of the stores, cellars, and warehouses for miles around, that did not matter much.
After the feast (more or less) came the Speech. Most of the a.s.sembled.hobbits were now in a tolerant mood - at that delicious stage which they called filling up the 'corners' (with sips of their favourite drinks and nips of their favourite sweetmeats): their former fears were forgotten. They were prepared to listen to anything, and to cheer at every full stop. But they were not prepared to be startled. Yet startled they certainly were: indeed, completely blowed: some even got indigestion.
My dear people, began Mr Baggins, rising in his place.
'Hear, hear, hear! ' they answered in chorus, and seemed reluctant to follow their own advice. Meanwhile Bilbo left his place and went and stood on a chair under the illuminated tree. The lantern light fell upon his beaming face; the gold b.u.t.tons shone on his flowered waistcoat. They could all see him. One hand was in his pocket. He raised the other.
My dear Bagginses! he began again. And my dear Tooks and Brandybucks and Crubbs and Chubbs and Burroweses and Bracegirdles and Boffises and Proudfoots.
'Proudfeet!' shouted an elderly hobbit from the back. His name, of course, was Proudfoot, and merited: his feet were large, exceptionally furry, and both were on the table.
Also my good Sackville-Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag-end. Today is my seventy-first birthday!
'Hurray, hurray! Many Happy Returns! ' they shouted, and they hammered joyously on the tables. Bilbo was doing splendidly. That was the sort of stuff they liked: short, obvious, uncontroversial.
I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am. Deafening cheers. Cries of Yes (and No). Noises of horns and trumpets, pipes and flutes, and other musical instruments. There were many junior hobbits present, for hobbits were easygoing with their children in the matter of sitting up late - especially if there was a chance of getting them an extra meal free (bringing up young hobbits took a great deal of provender). Hundreds of musical crackers had been pulled. Most of them bore the mark Dale on them somewhere or other, inside or out. What that meant only Bilbo and a few of his close friends knew (and you of course); but they were very marvelous crackers. They contained instruments small but of perfect make and enchanting tone. Indeed in one corner some of the younger Tooks and Brandybucks, supposing Bilbo to have finished his speech (having said all that was needed), now got up an impromptu orchestra, and began a merry dance tune. Young Prospero Brandybuck (7) and Melba Took got on a table and started to dance the flip-flap, a pretty thing if rather vigorous. But Bilbo had not finished.
Seizing a horn from one of the children he blew three very loud notes. The noise subsided. I shall not keep you long, he cried. Cheering broke out again. BUT I have called you all together for a Purpose.
Something in his voice made a few of the Tooks p.r.i.c.k up their ears. Indeed for three Purposes. First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all; and that seventy-one years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits.
Tremendous outburst of approval.
I don't know half of you half as mell as I would like, and less than half of you half as mell as you deserve.
No cheers this time: it was a bit too difficult. There was some scattered clapping; but not all of them had yet had time to work it out and see if it came to a compliment in the end.
Secondly, to celebrate my birthday, and the twentieth anniversary of my return. No cheers; there was some uncomfortable rustling.
Lastly, to make an Announcement. He said this so loudly and suddenly that everyone sat up who could. I regret to announce that - though, as I have said, 71 years is far too short a time among you - this is the END. I am going. I am leaving after dinner. Good-bye!
He stepped down. One hundred and forty-four flabbergasted hobbits sat back speechless. Mr Proudfoot removed his feet from the table. Mrs Proudfoot swallowed a large chocolate and choked. Then there was complete silence for quite forty winks, until suddenly every Baggins, Took, Brandybuck, Chubb, Grubb, Burrowes, Bracegirdle, Boffin and Proudfoot began to talk at once.
'The hobbit's mad. Always said so. Bad taste in jokes. Trying to pull the fur off our toes (a hobbit idiom). Spoiling a good dinner. Where's my handkerchief. Won't drink his health now. Shall drink my own. Where's that bottle. Is he going to get married? Not to anyone here tonight. Who would take him? Why good-bye? Where is there to go to? What is he leaving?' And so on. At last old Rory Brandybuck (8) (well-filled but still pretty bright) was heard to shout: 'Where is he now, anyway? Where's Bilbo?'
There was not a sign of their host anywhere.
As a matter of fact Bilbo Baggins had disappeared silently and unnoticed in the midst of all the talk. While he was speaking he had already been fingering a small ring (9) in his trouser-pocket. As he stepped down he had slipped it on - and he was never seen in Hobbiton again.
When the carriages came for the guests there was no one to say good-bye to. The carriages rolled away, one after another, filled with full but oddly unsatisfied hobbits. Gardeners came (by arrangement) and cleared away in wheelbarrows those that had inadvertently remained behind, asleep or immoveable. Night settled down and pa.s.sed. The sun rose. The hobbits rose rather later. Morning went on.
NOTES.