The Tale
As Gandalf goes out, there
is the ringing of a bell; the third hour from sunrise. Pippin goes to the door
and looks into the street, and sees armed guards passing in the street as if
changing watch. Pippin thinks it would be called nine o’clock back in the
Shire, and time for breakfast. He wonders when they have breakfast here, and
can he get any? And what about dinner?
An armored man comes down
the street and Pippin, lonely, thinks he’ll stop him to talk. But the man comes
right up to him, introduces himself as Beregond son of Baranor. He’s been sent
to teach Pippin (or Peregrin as he somewhat formally calls him) the passwords
and ways of Minas Tirith.
But he’d also like to learn
about Pippin himself. They’ve never seen a Halfling in Gondor. He came in with
Mithrandir. He asks if he knows the wizard well?
A little, Pippin replies,
but there’s a lot to be read in that book. Probably the only member of his
Company who knew him well was Aragorn. Beregond asks who is Aragorn, but
Pippin, remembering Gandalf’s advice, just says he was a man in their Company,
who is in Rohan now.
Beregond would like to know
about Rohan too, as Gondor now has hope in aid from that land. But he is here
first to answer the hobbit’s questions. What does he want to know?
Pippin brings out the burning question of meals, when and where. Beregond looks
at him gravely and calls him an old campaigner. Men at war are always looking
for the next meal, they say. Hasn’t he eaten anything today?
Pippin replies only a cup of
wine and a white cake or two with the Steward, accompanied by hard questioning,
which is hungry work. Beregond laughs. He has eaten as well as any man in the
City, and with more honor. The war has started; they are all on rations now But
‘At the table small men may do greater deeds.’ After a ‘morsel in the grey
light’ of morning those on heavy duty can have a snack midmorning. Then there
is ‘nuncheon’ about noon or so, and at last ‘daymeal’ at sunset. They’ll go and
see what they can get at the buttery and then eat on the battlement to watch
the morning.
Pippin says he’s first
promised Gandalf he’d go see how Shadowfax is doing; Gandalf loves the horse,
and if the City wants the wizard’s good will they’ll be treating him better
even than they’ve treated this hobbit. Hobbit? Beregond marvels at the word,
but strange accents do not mar fair speech. He loves horses himself (he doesn’t
get to see many) and he’ll go with Pippin and then to get food.
They find Shadowfax well-tended
in the stables in the sixth circle; there they keep the few errand horses,
which are all out now on the Steward’s business, carrying messages. Shadowfax
whinnies at Pippin in greeting, and Pippin addresses him in formal speech,
telling him Gandalf sends his word and care. Pippin hopes he has been resting
well after their long ride. Beregond marvels that he looks like he’s ready for
a race, not come from a long journey, and the horse allows him to handle his
head and stroke his great flanks.
Beregond asks where his
harness is; it must be a wonder indeed. Pippin answers none is good enough for
him he won’t have any. But if he agrees to have you on his back, he will not
let you fall. He tells Shadowfax to have patience and prepare; war is coming!
Shadowfax neighs so that the walls shake, and they check that his manger is
full before they leave. “And now for our manger,’ said Beregond.’
They go to the buttery that
serves his Company and they get bread and butter, cheese, apples, and a flagon
of ale, as well as plates and cups, all carried in a wicker basket. Beregond
leads them to an embrasure on the outthrust wall of the battlement where they
sit on a stone seat looking out over the world.
They talk about Minas Tirith
and Gondor, and about the Shire and the strange lands Pippin has seen on his
journey. Beregond grows more and more amazed at the little fellow swinging his
legs on the bench beside him. He only looks about the size of a nine-year-old,
but has seen more perils and marvels than many greybeards can boast. He thought
Denethor had only taken ‘a noble page’ on a whim.
Pippin says he isn’t far
wrong. In Hobbit-years he’s still reckoned a child and won’t ‘come of age’ for
four more years. But don’t bother about Pippin. Tell him about what he can see
over the wall.
The sun is now high. They
can see the great river Anduin bending away south and west again, and the green
land of the Pelennor fields, dotted here and there with farms and barns. There
is little movement that way, though, and no animals; they have all been moved
to more safety. But to the south is a main highway, and three streams of
traffic are evacuating the City, horse carts, oxcarts, and handcarts, taking
away the aged, the women and the children. It is sad: there were never many
children to gladden the streets, and now there are few. Only a few hardy lads
that won’t leave and find tasks to do; Beregond’s own son is one such.
And what’s that Pippin can
see over there, on the river? Is that another city. Those are the ruins of
Osgiliath, Beregond tell him grimly, once the chief city of Gondor before it was
taken and burned long ago. Denethor won it back in his youth and it was kept as
an outpost. But it was lately lost again, taken by Fell Riders out of Minas
Morgul.
‘The Black Rider?’ Pippin’s
eyes grow dark with fear. Beregond sees he knows of them, though the halfling
has not spoken of them. Pippin says he won’t, with Mordor so close. They look over the wall east, to the distant
(but all too near) Mountains of Mordor. There seems to be a slowly growing
darkness creeping toward the west. Beregond says quietly, yes, they seldom
mention Mordor by name. But now it draws near. And here will come the first
onslaught of the war.
Pippin asks if the guard has
any idea when it will come. Everything seemed so frantic yesterday, with the
beacons going up and Gandalf’s desperate hurry. Now everything has slowed down.
‘Only because everything is
now ready,’ said Beregond. ‘It is but the deep breath before the plunge.’
It is too late to light
beacons when you are already besieged. But he does not know Denethor’s counsel.
‘Lord Denethor is unlike other men: he sees far. Some say that as he sits alone
in his high chamber in the Tower at night, and bends his thought this way and
that, he can read somewhat of the future; and that he will at times search even
the mind of the Enemy, wrestling with him. And so it is that he is old, worn
before his time.’ And Faramir is abroad. News may come from him.
But he thinks the beacons
were probably lit because of the news that the Corsairs of Umbar have raised a
huge fleet and are coming up the river, which will also draw much help away
that they had expected from Lebennin and Belfalas. There is war stirring on all
marches – to the East, in Mirkwood, and in Harad. But it is here that the
stroke will fall hardest. And if Minas Tirith should fall, who can stand?
Pippin thinks of all the
evil forces mustered against them, and at that moment it seems a shadow passes
across the sun, and a high, cruel cry, ‘faint, but heart-quelling’, comes on
the air. He recognizes it as the call of a Fell Rider, the shadow of doom. ‘The
very warmth of my blood seems stolen away,’ says Beregond.
But the shadow passes and
Pippin recovers. He will not despair. Gandalf fell and has returned to them.
They will stand, if only on one leg, if only on their knees. Beregond takes
heart at his words. Even if Gondor falls, there are always hidden fastnesses
and secret roads to go down. ‘Hope and memory shall still live in some hidden
valley where the grass is green.’
Still, Pippin wishes they
could be doing something. Just waiting on the verge of a battle is terrible.
Beregond says they cannot take the battle to Mordor; they must wait until the
armies come to them. But things may change when Faramir returns. He is learned
in wisdom, but no less full of hardihood and resolution than Boromir. When
Gondor does strike, its hand must be heavy!
Pippin feels his own hand to
be much too light. He may be a pawn on a chessboard, as Gandalf said, but a
pawn on the wrong chessboard.
They talk until noon, and
the bell rings for lunch. Beregond invites Pippin to eat with his company. The hobbit
wonders if he could join that company, but that’s not for the guard to say. He
is not a Captain, but just being a guard is a great honor. Then it’s beyond me.
They go back to Pippin’s lodgings, but Gandalf has not returned. Pippin goes to
Beregond’s mess, as his guest.
Everyone there is interested
in Pippin, and Beregond seems to get as much honor for bringing him as a guest.
They think Pippin must be great: a companion of Boromir and Mithrandir, who has
spoken to the Steward. They call him ‘Prince of the Halflings’ and a rumor goes
around that he will bring five hundred swords from his land, which Pippin
(regretfully) has to correct. But they are eager for his tales and press him
with food. His only trouble is remembering to be wary, not only about Aragorn
but about Frodo and his quest.
Finally they rise, and Beregond
says he must go on other duties now. But if Pippin will go down to the Old
Guesthouse he might find his son Bergil to be his guide. There is much to be
seen at the Great Gate before it closes. Pippin returns to the lodgings, and,
as it seems to cheerless to sleep, he goes to see Shadowfax again, and feeds
him some bits he saved from his meal. Then he goes for a walk.
People stare at him as he
goes, but salute him courteously, ‘bowed head and hands upon the breast.’ But
he hears many people calling to come see ‘the Prince of the Halflings’, or ‘Earnil
I Pheriannath’ as it is in their (Sindarin) speech.
Bits and Bobs
Pippin’s thoughts turn, as a
hobbit’s thoughts will in moments of idleness or uncertainty, to thinking about
food. Beregond means ‘valiant stone’ or perhaps more meaningfully ‘valiant of
Gondor’; his father’s name Baranor means ‘tower-sun’, and Bergil contains the
element gil (‘star’). A ‘buttery’ is a place where provisions are stored,
while a ‘mess’ is where groups of people (like separate companies) eat together.
‘Nuncheon’ is an old world for a brief drink break, not as substantial as ‘luncheon’.
Denethor's secret palantir use isn't so secret, is it? Though not really understood.
I can’t read Shadowfax’s
neighing when Pippin tells him ‘War is coming!’ without thinking of Job 39:25, “When
the trumpet sounds, he says ‘Aha!’ He smells the battle from afar, the thunder
of the captains, and the shouting.”
Tolkien elsewhere explains
that Pippin was mistaken for royalty because he spoke the Common Speech in the
manner of Hobbits. They had long ago lost the formal case of address from their
speech and so spoke to everyone from Denethor himself on down in the familiar
case; in effect calling everyone ‘thou’ (personal) instead of ‘you’ (formal). This
may have amused Denethor himself. Pippin may actually be thought of in a
certain sense as a ‘Prince of the Halflings', as he is heir to the Thainship of
the Tooks, who along with the Mayor and the Master of the Brandy Hall, is one
of the three (informal) rulers of the Shire. And he’s 27, a mere youngling, in
Hobbit years.
I suppose I could have
summed up this section more succinctly, but it is full of information, and I
find that I have in the past somewhat scanted my attention on this bit about
Pippin and Gondor, especially about Gondor, its posture during the war, and the
gathering forces arrayed against it. But is always did strike me that Pippin is
suddenly an expert on Shadowfax, whom he’s ridden on half-asleep for what,
three days? Is he showing off, or is he beginning to be more elevated by his
surroundings?
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