The History of the Hobbit

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The History of the Hobbit Page 73

by John D. Rateliff


  —fair copy page ‘f’ (1/1/14:6); cf. DAA.295.

  22 This rather touching scene of Balin’s solicitude for the exhausted hobbit and the dwarves taking turns to carry him disappeared from the story, although it survived into the fair copy, which adds the detail ‘as in the goblin-caves, but now more willingly’ (fair copy page ‘h’; 1/1/14:8). The fair copy text also makes clear that one element of Bilbo’s exhaustion was the mail-coat: ‘he felt dragged down by the unaccustomed weight of his mail coat, and his head swam. He sat down and panted on a step.’ To this was added a hasty pencilled addition which seems to read ‘. . . of his mail coat, and the stone weighing heavy in his pocket.’ – that is, the idea that the Arkenstone itself was a heavy burden was still present. The typescript omits this entire passage.

  For the weight of the gem, see Text Note 10 above; for the weight of the ‘silver-steel’ armor, see Text Note 17.

  23 The grisly detail of this chamber being littered with the skulls and bones of Thorin’s people first appears in the fair copy (page ‘h’; 1/1/14:8):

  They passed through the ruined chamber. Tables were rotting here and chairs overturned and decaying. Skulls and bones were upon the floor among flagones and bowls and broken drinking-horns [added: and dust].

  Oddly enough, neither in the fair copy nor in any later text is there any mention of distress among the dwarves at the sight of their murdered and unburied kinsmen, or of their afterwards seeing to the remains. Perhaps, given the dwarven tradition of entombment (cf. Chapter XVIII and LotR.1113) and the pressing circumstances (with, so far as they knew, the murderer still on the prowl), Thorin & Company felt that being in stone chambers underground was burial enough until more formal arrangements could be made – compare, in The Lord of the Rings, Gimli’s grief at finding Balin’s tomb with his apparent unconcern about the bones of Ori and his companions lying scattered about the chamber (LotR.338–44).

  24 In comparing how hot and stuffy it was inside Smaug’s lair with the chill outside, the fair copy text (page ‘i’; 1/1/14:9) specifies that it is not just cool but almost winter:

  ‘Well’ said Bilbo. ‘I never expected to be looking out of this door. And I never expected to be so pleased to see the first sun on a cold wintry morning as I am now. [Ugh! >] But the wind is cold!’

  It was. A cold breeze from the North [> East], from the threshold of winter, [> A cold North-easterly breeze coming from the gates of winter] was slanting into the valley and sighing in the rocks. They shivered in the sun, after their long time in the stewing depths of the caves, yet the feel of the air was sweet upon their faces.

  The change here from North first to East and then to North-easterly comes in order for the text to match the evolving map of the Lonely Mountain. In Fimbulfambi’s Map (see Frontispiece, plate one), the eastern spur of the mountain already had its slight southward curl at the end but this would not have blocked direct line of sight between the Front Gate and the rising sun in the east, especially since in winter the sun rises somewhat to the south of East. In the redrawn version, Thror’s Map I (Plate I [bottom]), the curl is less pronounced but the mountain’s arm is longer, so that it would have blocked the view directly to the east but still has a clear south-east view.

  This is not the case with the third and final map, Thror’s Map II, which is printed in all copies of The Hobbit (for example, DAA.97). The map’s orientation has changed, so that East rather than North now appears at the top (in keeping with the tradition of medieval and renaissance maps, rather than our modern practice of putting north at the top). Here that arm of the mountain has shifted from just south of east (ESE) to stretch just east of south (SES), completely blocking the view to the east. Similarly, the newly lengthened matching arm with the watch-post by this point known as Ravenhill on its southernmost tip (and which forms the other wall of the little valley that gives Dale its name) blocks off everything to the west, so that the Front Gate now has a clear view only to the south. Hence in the final text written onto the page proofs the relevant passage reads:

  . . . wind is cold!’

  It was. A bitter easterly breeze blew with a threat of oncoming winter. It swirled over and round the arms of the Mountain into the valley and sighed among the rocks. After their long time in the stewing depths of the dragon-haunted caverns, they shivered in the sun.

  Accordingly, since they could no longer see the sunrise, in another set of last-minute page proof corrections the rising sun became the misty sun, its light changed from red to pale, the sunbeams changed from ruddy gold to simply gold, and it has now become late morning (1/2/2: page 248) rather than dawn.

  The changes from ‘wintry’ and ‘threshold of winter’ are interesting, since they seem to reflect the revised time-scheme of the published book, in which Durin’s Day fell on the last new moon before the onset of winter – i.e., no more than twenty-eight days before the solstice on or around December 21st, several days of which have already passed between the opening of the secret door and the dwarves’ arrival at the Front Gate. Bilbo and company thus reach the Front Gate in early to mid December, just a few days before midwinter, whereas in the original time-scheme where Durin’s Day falls on the first new moon of autumn it would be early autumn, sometime between the very end of September through mid-October. See page 481 for more on the unresolved difficulties created by the shift in timing.

  25 This paragraph describing the lay-out of the valley was replaced by the following in the fair copy (page ‘j’), with Balin as the speaker:

  ‘Five hours’ march or so. But we can have a rest on the way. Do you see there on the right? There is the high cliff-like bank of the river that we looked out from when we first came here, Bilbo.† Between that and this gate there used to be a bridge, and beyond it steps cut in the rock-wall that led to a path winding up on to the southern mountain-spur, above where our first camp was made.’

  † See page 472 in Chapter XI.

  Aside from the usual polishing of phrasing and the changing of the first sentence to ‘Five hours march, I should think, as we are tired and it is mostly uphill’, this is essentially the text of the First Typescript and the original page proof. It was replaced by Tolkien’s emendations of the page proofs to:

  ‘Five hours march, I should think. It will be rough going. The road from the Gate along the left edge of the stream seems all broken up. But look down there! The river loops suddenly east across the Dale in front of the ruined town. At that point there was once a bridge, leading to steep stairs that climbed up the right bank, and so to a road running towards Ravenhill.† There is (or was) a path that left the road and climbed up to the post. A hard climb, too, even if the old steps are still there.’

  † See page 618 and Text Note 4 for Chapter XV(a) for the first mention of Ravenhill in the manuscript.

  26 The eight paragraphs of dialogue that replaced this simple two-line exchange first appear in the fair copy (from the middle of page ‘j’ to the top of page ‘k’). The fair copy is similar to the final text (see DAA.299–300), with the most interesting variant being a cancelled passage in Thorin’s reply:

  ‘Come come,’ said Thorin, laughing his spirits rising as he of his golden armour and his fists full of gems, and all the treasure yet to <?come> [> with the hope of treasure].

  This passage comes at the bottom of an unnumbered cancelled page (replaced by fair copy page ‘j’) which forms the verso of fair copy page ‘k’.

  27 This suggests that there might once have been a tunnel from the guardpost to the dwarven city in the mountain’s heart, as was the case with the secret tunnel on the western side. No such implication survives into the published text, but see Plot Notes E (pp. 626 & 627) for a stronger indication of this possibility.

  28 This paragraph’s brief description of the journey from the Front Gate to Ravenhill, and their initial exploration of the old guard post, was greatly expanded in the fair copy (pages ‘k’–‘l’). In general the fair copy account closely resembles the typescr
ipt that followed aside from the usual small variations in phrasing and some reassignments of speeches: in the typescript Thorin’s speech regarding the watchpost is reassigned to Balin, while Balin’s reply is split between Dori and Thorin – although Balin’s original reply (‘“Small protection, if Smaug spots us, I fear” said Balin; “but we must take our chance of that. Anyway we can go no further to-day”.’) lacks Dori’s apprehensions – and a brief rejoinder from Bilbo is inserted to close the conversation.

  Aside from one addition regarding cram (see part iii of the commentary to this chapter), the typescript carried over almost verbatim into the page proofs, but the paragraphs describing their journey to the outpost were carefully revised at the proofs stage to better match the geography of the valley containing the Front Gate and ruins of Dale as they emerged in the final version of Thror’s Map and also the various illustrations of the Lonely Mountain Tolkien made near the end of his work on the book. In particular, the altered course of the river results in shifting the ruins of Dale from the river’s right (eastern) bank in Thror’s Map I (Plate I [top]) and the painting ‘Smaug flies round the Mountain’ (Plate X [bottom]), to the river’s left (west) bank in several other drawings such as ‘The Lonely Mountain’ (DAA.273, H-S#136; see also H-S#134 & 135) and the final map (DAA.50 & 97); note also the contrast between the boulder-strewn eastern bank of the Running River and the floodplain bordered by cliffs on the western bank in ‘The Front Gate’ (DAA.256; H-S#130). I here give the changes made to this section of the proofs (corresponding to DAA.300) in tabular form:

  • So on again they trudged along the northern bank of the river – to the south the rocky wall above the water was sheer and pathless > So on they trudged among the stones on the left side of the river – to the right the rocky wall above the water was sheer and pathless (the reading of the first edition; Douglas Anderson notes that Tolkien revised this line again in the 1966 Ballantine paperback edition; cf. DAA.300).

  • After going for a short distance eastward along the cliff top they came on a nook sheltered among rocks and there they rested for a while > After going a short way they struck the old road, and before long came to a deep dell sheltered among the rocks; there they rested . . .

  • After that they went on again; and now the path struck southwards and left the river, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer. Soon the narrow road wound and scrambled steeply up > After that they went on again; and now the road struck westwards and left the river, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer. At length they reached the hill-path. It scrambled steeply up.

  One interesting detail that should be mentioned here is that the Second Phase manuscript describes the southern arm of the mountain as ‘the long Southern Spur’. However, on Thror’s Map I (Plate I [top]), the arm of the mountain pointing directly south is rather short, certainly shorter than the two eastern arms extending towards the Iron Hills. By contrast, on the published map (DAA.50) the southern arm is much longer. It is certain that the published map (Thror’s Map II) did not exist at the point when Tolkien drafted this chapter, so the description here of the southern spur being ‘long’ could mean that this draft served as an intermediate stage in its extension.

  Finally, the last page of the fair copy (page ‘m’; 1/1/14:14) includes a single short paragraph that was moved to the start of the next chapter when the First Typescript was created, bridging the time-difference between these two chapters now that their original sequence had been reversed and the new Chapter XIV made into essentially one long flashback:

  Now you will be wondering as much as the dwarves about Smaug and it is time to tell you. You must go back to the evening when the Smaug had burst forth in rage, two days before [cancelled: the end of].

  (i)

  Dragon-sickness (‘The Hoard’)

  [T]he last great danger, the danger Thorin had dreaded all along, and which their silence before the Elvenking had not averted, was gathering about them – a host was marching up to ransack and plunder the halls of Thror.

  While greed over the dragon’s treasure was to play an important part in the climax of the story from the earliest draft, as we see from the preceding text and also Plot Notes C & D, Tolkien’s original intent was to portray this as essentially an external force acting upon Thorin & Company from outside. Bilbo’s uncharacteristic behavior of pocketing the Gem of Girion for himself and hints of disagreement between the hobbit and the dwarves about how best to handle the crisis of being besieged by angry lake-men and greedy, calculating elves aside, there are no indications whatsoever in the Second Phase materials that Thorin or any of the other dwarves succumb to the dragon-sickness of lusting after ‘gold upon which a dragon has long brooded’ (page 648). In fact, a passage from Plot Notes D suggests the opposite, and that their silence before the Elvenking had not been anxiety over splitting the treasure but

  . . . because dwarves understood better than all others the power of the greed of gold and fear therefore more certainly to <?extend> it.

  The wisdom of this reticence is shown by the unedifying scramble for the treasure that ensues immediately following Smaug’s death among the lake-men, enraged by their losses and deliberately stirred up into a blood frenzy by the Master (to deflect attention from his own inglorious behavior during the defense of their city), and by the wood-elves’ king’s plan to coolly seize the treasure with no better claim to it than the goblins of the Third Phase text have, namely because he shows up with an army large enough to take it.

  Thus although the idea of the dragon-sickness bringing together rival claimants for the treasure was already the motivating factor for the projected climax in the final pages of the Second Phase text, resolving that crisis in the unwritten chapters, had Tolkien proceeded according to his original plan, would have been a relatively straightforward matter of dealing with a wholly external threat (the besieging armies). All this was to change when the second of the two great complications that derailed the Second Phase narrative entered the text:1 the idea that Bilbo’s companions would themselves succumb to the ‘dragon-sickness’ more strongly than any other group present, whereas he himself would be able to throw off the ‘bewitchment’ and ‘enchantment’ of the dragon-hoard and thus take actions that would estrange him from his trusted companions of the last year and more,2 and even ultimately place him on the opposite side of the coming battle, which could no longer be averted. The great moral complexity of the published book’s final chapters and its bittersweet resolution were thus an innovation of the Third Phase; the original Second Phase ending would have been much more of a piece with the bulk of the book that preceded it – full of incident but morally unambiguous.

  Given the heavy influence of the Túrin and Sigurd stories throughout the ‘Lonely Mountain’ section of The Hobbit, it is no surprise that they played an important role here as well. But as is usual with Tolkien, he was careful and creative in his borrowings, and here the Fafnir legend exerts much less influence over The Hobbit than it does over the earlier Túrin’s story and Tolkien’s borrowings are mainly from his own earlier unpublished work (as would henceforth be the case with all his subsequent work, from The Lord of the Rings onward). The theme of cursed treasure had been a powerful narrative thread in The Book of Lost Tales (especially in the tale of ‘The Nauglafring’ or Necklace of the Dwarves) and no doubt owed much to the story of Fafnir’s and Sigurd’s treasure (also known as Andvari’s Hoard after its original owner, or the Gold of the Nibelungs, or Das Rheingold, depending on which version of the legend one consults). The Völsungs’ treasure on the one hand (in Germanic and Norse myth) and the gold of the Rodothlim, the Silmarils, and indeed the One Ring on the other (within Tolkien’s legendarium) indiscriminately bring doom to all their owners one by one, although a few (like Bilbo, Beren, and Eärendel) escape the curse’s full effects.

  So strongly did this theme appeal to Tolkien that it inspired one of his finest poems, ‘The Hoar
d’ (ATB poem #14), earlier known as ‘Iúmonna Gold Galdre Bewunden’ – a title (‘ancient gold, entangled with enchantment’) which itself laid equal emphasis, in two metrically balanced Old English half-lines, on the gold and on the spell or curse it was under (see Note 13 following Chapter XII). The poem tells of a wonderful treasure of gold and silver and jewels owned successively by elves, a lone dwarf, a dragon, and a hero who becomes a king, all of whom perish miserably, leaving the hoard in the end lost forever, buried in a grassy mound. Furthermore, the poem makes clear that all but the original owners are chained to the hoard, possessed by their own possession. Tolkien explicitly drew a connection between ‘The Hoard’ and the Túrin/Nauglafring legend in his Preface to The Adventures of Tom Bombadil [1962], where he assigned the poem’s authorship to Bilbo (who after all knew a thing or two about possessive possessions – cf. the first chapter in both Book I and Book II of The Lord of the Rings [‘A Long-Expected Party’ and ‘Many Meetings’, respectively] – but who had not been created as a character until at least seven years after this poem had first appeared in print!) during his years at Rivendell and said ‘it seems to contain echoes of the Númenorean tale of Túrin and Mim the Dwarf’ (ATB page 8). This tale is told in its fullest form in The Book of Lost Tales in the two stories ‘Turambar and the Foalókë’ (BLT II.69–143) and even more in ‘The Nauglafring’ (BLT II.221–51). We have already briefly touched on the Nauglafring story in Chapter IX (see ‘The King of Wood and Stone’, pp. 412–13), but the extraordinary degree to which the Rodothlim’s treasure blights all who come into contact with it, a fate narrowly averted by most of the various claimants in The Hobbit, deserves revisiting, since the earlier story seems to have acted as a template underlying our tale.

 

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