by Miguel
(* Old English digol, deagol, etc. 'secret, hidden'; cf. LR Appendix F (p. 415).)
It is important to realise that when my father wrote this, he was working within the constraints of the story as originally told in The Hobbit. As The Hobbit first appeared, and until 1951, the story was that Gollum, encountering Bilbo at the edge of the subterranean lake, proposed the riddle game on these conditions: 'If precious asks, and it doesn't answer, we eats it, my preciousss. If it asks us, and we doesn't answer, we gives it a present, gollum!' When Bilbo won the contest, Gollum held to his promise, and went back in his boat to his island in the lake to find his treasure, the ring which was to be his present to Bilbo. He could not find it, for Bilbo had it in his pocket, and coming back to Bilbo he begged his pardon many times: 'He kept on saying: "We are ssorry: we didn't mean to cheat, we meant to give it our only present, if it won the competition".' '"Never mind!" he [Bilbo] said. "The ring would have been mine now, if you had found it; so you would have lost it anyway. And I will let you off on one condition." "Yes, what iss it? What does it wish us to do, my precious." "Help me to get out of these places", said Bilbo.' And Gollum did so; and Bilbo 'said good-bye to the nasty miserable creature.' On the way up through the tunnels Bilbo slipped on the ring, and Gollum at once missed him, so that Bilbo perceived that the ring was as Gollum had told him - it made you invisible.
This is why, in the present text, Gandalf says 'I think it certain that Gollum knew in the end that Bilbo had got the ring', and why my father had Gandalf develop a theory that Gollum was actually ready to give the ring away: 'he wanted... to hand it on to someone else... I suppose he might have put it in [the goblins'] path in the end... but for the unexpected arrival of Bilbo... as soon as the riddles started a plan formed in his mind.' This is all carefully conceived in relation to the text of The Hobbit as it then was, to meet the formidable difficulty: if the Ring were of such a nature as my father now conceived it, how could Gollum have really intended to give it away to a stranger who won a riddle contest? - and the original text of The Hobbit left no doubt that that was indeed his serious intention. But it is interesting to observe that Gandalf's remarks about the affinity of mind between Gollum and Bilbo, which survived into FR (pp. 63 - 4), originally arose in this context, of explaining how it was that Gollum was willing to let his treasure go.
Turning to what is told of the Rings in this text, the original idea (p. 75) that the Elves had many Rings, and that there were many 'Elf- wraiths' in the world, is still present, but the phrase 'the Ring-lord cannot rule them' is not. The Dwarves, on the other hand, at first said not to have had any, now had seven, each the foundation of one of 'the seven hoards of the Dwarves', and their distinctive response to the corruptive power of the Rings enters (though this was already foreshadowed in the first rough draft on the subject: 'some say the rings don't wort on them: they are too solid.') Men, at first said to have had 'few', now had three - but 'others they found in secret places cast away by the elf-wraiths' (thus allowing for more than three Black Riders). But the central conception of the Ruling Ring is not yet present, though it was, so to say, waiting in the wings: for it is said that Gollum's Ring was not only the only one that had not returned to the Dark Lord (other than those lost by the Dwarves) - it was the 'most precious and potent of his Rings' (p. 81). But in what its peculiar potency lay we are not told; nor indeed do we learn more here of the relation between the invisibility conferred by the Rings, the tormenting longevity (which now first appears), and the decline of their bearers into 'wraiths'.
The element of moral will required in one possessed of a Ring to resist its power is strongly asserted. This is seen in Gandalf's advice to Bilbo in the original draft (p. 74): 'don't use it for harm, or for finding out other people's secrets, and of course not for theft or for worse things. Because it may get the better of you'; and still more expressly in his rebuke to Bingo, who said that it was a pity that Bilbo did not kill Gollum: 'He could not do so, without doing wrong. It was against the rules. If he had done so he would not have had the ring, the ring would have had him at once' (p. 81). This element remains in FR (pp. 68 - 9), but is more guardedly expressed: 'Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so.'
The end of the chapter - with Gandalf actually himself proposing the Birthday Party and Bingo's 'resounding jest' - was to be quickly rejected, and is never heard of again.
IV. TO MAGGOT'S FARM AND BUCKLAND.
The third of the original consecutive chapters exists in complete form only in a typescript, where it bears the number 'III' but has no title; there are also however incomplete and very rough manuscript drafts, which were filled out and improved in the typescript but in all essentials left unchanged. Near the end the typescript ceases (note 16), not at the foot of a page, and the remainder of the chapter is in manuscript; for this part also rough drafting exists.
I again give the text in full, since in this chapter the original narrative was far removed from what finally went into print. Subsequent emendation was here very slight. I take up into the text a few manuscript changes that seem to me to be in all probability contemporary with the making of the typescript.
The end of the chapter corresponds to FR Chapter 5 'A Conspiracy Unmasked', at this stage there was no conspiracy.
III.
In the morning Bingo woke refreshed. He was lying in a bower made by a living tree with branches laced and drooping to the ground; his bed was of fern and grass, deep and soft and strangely fragrant. The sun was shining through the fluttering leaves, which were still green upon the tree. He jumped up and went out.
Odo and Frodo were sitting on the grass near the edge of the wood; there was no sign of any elves.
'They have left us fruit and drink, and bread,' said Odo. 'Come and have breakfast! The bread tastes almost as good as last night.'
Bingo sat down beside them. 'Well?' said Odo. 'Did you find anything out?'
'No, nothing,' said Bingo. 'Only hints and riddles. But as far as I could make them out, it seems to me that Gildor thinks there are several Riders; that they are after me; that they are now ahead and behind and on both sides of us; that it is no use going back (at least not for me); that we ought to make for Rivendell as quickly as possible, and if we find Gandalf there so much the better; and that we shall have an exciting and dangerous time getting there.'
'I call that a lot more than nothing,' said Odo. 'But what about the sniffing?'
'We did not discuss it,' said Bingo with his mouth full.
'You should have,' said Odo. 'I am sure it is very important.' 'In that case I am sure Gildor would have told me nothing about it. But he did say that he thought you might as well come with me. I gathered that the riders are not after you, and that you rather bother them.'
'Splendid! Odo and Frodo are to take care of Uncle Bingo. They won't let him be sniffed at.'
'All right!' said Bingo. 'That's settled. What about the method of advance?'
'What do you mean?' said Odo. 'Shall we hop, skip, run, crawl on our stomachs, or just walk singing along? '
'Exactly. And shall we follow the road, or risk a cross-country cut? There is no choice in the matter of time; we must go in daylight, because Marmaduke is expecting us to-night. In fact we must get off as soon as possible; we have slept late, and there are still quite eighteen miles to go.'
'You have slept late, you mean,' said Odo. 'We have been up a long time.'
So far Frodo had said nothing. He was looking out over the tree- tops eastward. He now turned towards them. 'I vote for striking across country,' he said. 'The land is not so wild between here and the River. It ought not to be difficult to mark our direction before we leave this hill, and to keep pretty well to it. Buckland is almost exactly south-east from Woodhall (1) down there in the trees. We should cut off quite a corner, because the road bears away to the left - you can see a bit of it over there - and then sweeps round south when it gets nearer to the
River.(2) We could strike it above Buckland before it gets really dark.'
'Short cuts make long delays,' said Odo; 'and I don't see that a Rider is any worse on the road than in the woods.'
'Except that he probably won't be able to see so well, and may not be able to ride so fast,' said Bingo. 'I am also in favour of leaving the road.'
'All right! ' said Odo. 'I will follow you into every bog and ditch. You two are as bad as Marmaduke. I suppose I shall be outvoted by three to one, instead of two to one, when we collect him, if we ever do.'
The sun was now hot again; but clouds were beginning to come up from the West. It looked likely to turn to rain, if the wind fell. The hobbits scrambled down a steep green bank and struck into the trees below. Their line was taken to leave Woodhall on their left, and there was some thickish wood immediately in front of them, though after a mile or two it had looked from above as if the land became more open. There was a good deal of undergrowth, and they did not get on very fast. At the bottom of the slope they found a stream running in a deeply dug bed with steep slippery banks overhung with brambles. They could not jump across, and they had the choice of going back and taking a new line, or of turning aside to the left and following the stream until it became easier to cross. Odo looked back. Through the trees they could see the top of the bank which fell from the high green which they had just left. 'Look! ' he said, clutching Bingo by the arm. On the top of the slope a black rider sat on a horse; he seemed to be swaying from side to side, as if sweeping all the land eastward with his gaze. The hobbits gave up any idea of going back, and plunged quickly and silently into the thickest bushes by the stream. They were cut off from the West wind down in the hollow, and very soon they were hot and tired. Bushes, brambles, rough ground, and their packs, all did what they could to hold them back.
'Whew! ' said Bingo. 'Both parties were right! The short cut has gone crooked; but we got under cover only just in time. Yours are the sharpest ears, Frodo. Can you hear - can you hear anything behind?'
They stopped and looked and listened; but there was no sign or sound of pursuit. They went on again, until the banks of the stream sank and its bed became broad and shallow. They waded across and hurried into the wood on the other side, no longer quite sure of the line they should take. There were no paths, but the ground was fairly level and open. A tall growth of young oaks, mixed with ash and elm, was all round them, so that they could not see far. The leaves of the trees blew upwards in sudden gusts, and spots of rain began to fall; then the wind died away, and the rain came down steadily.
They trudged along fast through thick leaves, while all about them the rain pattered and trickled; they did not talk, but kept glancing from side to side, and sometimes behind. After about an hour Frodo said: 'I suppose we have not struck too much to the south, and are not walking longwise through this wood? From above it looked like a narrow belt, and we ought to have crossed it by now, I should have thought.'
'It is no good starting going in zigzags now,' said Bingo. 'Let's keep on. The clouds seem to be breaking, and we may get a helpful glimpse of the sun again before long.'
He was right. By the time they had gone another mile, the sun gleamed out of ragged clouds; and they saw that they were in fact heading too much to the south. They bore a little to their left; but before long they decided by their feelings as much as by the sun that it was time for a mid-day halt and some food.
The rain was still falling at intervals; so they sat under an elm- tree, whose leaves were still thick, though they were fast turning yellow. They found that the Elves had filled their water-bottles with some clear golden drink: it had the scent rather than the taste of honey made of many flowers, and was mightily refreshing. They made a merry meal, and soon were laughing and snapping their fingers at rain and black riders. The next few miles they felt would soon be put behind them. With his back to the tree-trunk Odo began to sing softly to himself:
Ho! ho! ho! To my bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
And many miles be still to go,
But under the elm-tree I will lie
And let the clouds go sailing by!
Ho! ho! ho! ----
It will never be known whether the next verse was any better than the first; for just at the moment there was a noise like a sneeze or a sniff. Odo never finished his song. The noise came again: sniff, sniff, sniff; it seemed to be quite close. They sprang to their feet, and looked quickly about; but there was nothing to be seen anywhere near their tree.(3)
Odo had no more thought of lying and watching the clouds go by. He was the first to be packed and ready to start. In a few minutes from the last sniff they were off again as fast as they could go. The wood soon came to an end; but they were not particularly pleased, for the land became soft and boggy, and hobbits (even on a Journey) don't like mud and clay on their feet. The sun was shining again, and they felt both too hot and too exposed to view away from the trees. Far back now behind them lay the high green where they had breakfasted; every time they looked back towards it they expected to see the distant figure of a horseman against the sky. But none appeared; and as they went on the land about them got steadily more tame. There were hedges and gates and dikes for drainage; everything looked quiet and peaceful, just an ordinary corner of the Shire.
'I think I recognize these fields,' said Frodo suddenly. 'They belong to old Farmer Maggot,(4) unless I am quite lost. There ought to be a lane somewhere near, that leads from his place into the road a mile or two above Buckland.'(5)
'Does he live in a hole or a house?' asked Odo, who did not know this part of the country.
It was a curious thing about the hobbits of those days that this was an important distinction. All hobbits had, of course, originally lived in holes; but now only the best and the poorest hobbits did so, as a rule. Important hobbits lived in luxurious versions of the simple holes of olden times; but the sites for really good hobbit-holes were not to be found everywhere. Even in Hobbiton, one of the most important villages, there were houses. These were specially favoured by the farmers, millers, blacksmiths, carpenters, and people of that sort. The custom of building houses was supposed to have started among the hobbits of the woody river- side regions, where the land was heavy and wet and had no good hills or convenient banks. They began making artificial holes of mud (and later of brick), roofed with thatch in imitation of natural grass. That was a long time ago, and on the edge of history; but houses were still considered an innovation. The poorest hobbits still lived in holes of the most ancient sort - in fact just holes, with only one window, or even none.(6) But Odo was not thinking about hobbit-history. He merely wanted to know where to look for the farm. If Farmer Maggot had lived in a hole, there would have been rising ground somewhere near; but the land ahead looked perfectly flat.
'He lives in a house,' answered Frodo. 'There are very few holes in these parts. They say houses were invented here. Of course the Brandybucks have that great burrow of theirs at Bucklebury in the high bank across the River; but most of their people live in houses. There are lots of those new-fashioned brick houses - not too bad, I suppose, in their way; though they look very naked, if you know what I mean: no decent turf-covering, all bare and bony.'
'Fancy climbing upstairs to bed! ' said Odo. 'That seems to me most inconvenient. Hobbits aren't birds.'
'I don't know,' said Bingo. 'It isn't as bad as it sounds; though personally I never like looking out of upstairs windows, it makes me a bit giddy. There are some houses that have three stages, bedrooms above bedrooms. I slept in one once long ago on a holiday; the wind kept me awake all night.'
'What a nuisance, if you want a handkerchief or something when you are downstairs, and find it is upstairs,' said Odo.
'You could keep handkerchiefs downstairs, if you wished,' said Frodo.
'You could, but I don't believe anybody does.'
'That is not the houses' fault,' said Bingo; 'it is jus
t the silliness of the hobbits that live in them. The old tales tell that the Wise Elves used to build tall towers; and only went up their long stairs when they wished to sing or look out of the windows at the sky, or even perhaps the sea. They kept everything downstairs, or in deep halls dug beneath the feet of the towers. I have always fancied that the idea of building came largely from the Elves, though we use it very differently. There used to be three elftowers standing in the land away west beyond the edge of the Shire. I saw them once. They shone white in the Moon. The tallest was furthest away, standing alone on a hill. It was told that you could see the sea from the top of that tower; but I don't believe any hobbit has ever climbed it.'(7) If ever I live in a house, I shall keep everything I want downstairs, and only go up when I don't want anything; or perhaps I shall have a cold supper upstairs in the dark on a starry night.'
'And have to carry plates and things downstairs, if you don't fall all the way down,' laughed Odo.
'No!' said Bingo. 'I shall have wooden plates and bowls, and throw them out of the window. There will be thick grass all round my house.'