Tuesday, September 17, 2024

The Lord of the Rings: Minas Tirith (Part Seven and Last)


The Tale

Pippin comes to the lowest and widest circle of the city, where he is directed to the Lampwright’s Street where he finds the Old Guesthouse, a large grey house with two wings and a grassy yard. There he sees some boys, the only children he’s seen in the city, playing on the steps and pillars of the porch. A boy sees him and comes over with several others to check him out. The boy challenges him. He’s never seen him. Is he a stranger to the City?

Pippin answers that he is , but he says that they tell him he is now a man of the City. The lad laughs at the word man and asks him a lot of questions. The boy brags that he himself is ten years old and almost five feet tall; his father is one of the tallest of the guards. Who’s your father?

‘What question shall I answer first? Said Pippin. ‘My father farms the lands round the Whitwell near Tuckburough in the Shire. I am nearly twenty-nine, so I pass you there; though I am but four feet, and not likely to grow anymore, save sideways.’

The boy whistles, impressed with his age. Still, he reckons he could stand Pippin on his head or lay him on his back.

Pippin laughs and agrees that he might. But they know some wrestling tricks in his little country, where he is considered quite large and strong. If worst came to worst, Pippin might have to kill him rather than be defeated. Perhaps when the boy is older he will learn that people aren’t always what they seem. ‘I am a halfling, hard, bold, and wicked!’ He pulls a grim face.

The boy steps back a pace, then advances with battle in his eyes. Pippin laughs again. And perhaps the lad will learn that strangers don’t always tell the truth about themselves, either. But what is the boy’s name, the hobbit asks. He replies that he is Bergil, son of Beregond. Pippin said he thought so; he looks like his father. Beregond has sent him to find the lad.

Bergil is at first dismayed that his father might have sent him to tell him he must leave, but the last wains have left. Pippin assures him that the news is better than that. If he’s not too busy trying to stand him on his head, the boy should be his guide around the City. Bergil is relieved and says they should go to the Gate to see the Captains of the Outlands who will be soon arriving.

Pippin and Bergil walk along, and the boy proves to be the best company Pippin has had since he parted with Merry. Pippin himself is in many ways just a boy himself. Bergil is impressed when Pippin can give the password and get them through the Gate; boys aren’t allowed out without an elder. They join a crowd of men waiting around the Gate, looking southward, until there is a cloud of dust approaching, and the sound of horns.

The first troop is greeted with ‘Forlong!’ Bergil explains that this is old Forlong the Fat, Lord of Lossarnach, the land where the boy’s grandfather lives.



‘Leading the line there came walking a big thick-limbed horse, and on it sat a man of wide shoulders and huge girth, but old and grey-bearded, yet mail-clad and black-helmed and bearing a long heavy spear. Behind him marched proudly a dusty line of men, well-armed and bearing great battle-axes; grim-faced they were, and shorter and somewhat swarthier than any men Pippin had yet seen in Gondor.’

He is hailed by the men of the City, but when he and his men have passed through the Gate there is murmuring. There are only two hundred; they had hoped for two thousand. This must be because of the black fleet attacking Lossarnach; they can only spare a little from the defense of their own homes. ‘Still every little is a gain.’

And so it goes as company after company enter, always fewer than they had hoped. Dervorin of Ringlo Vale; three hundred. Duinhir and his sons Duilin and Derufin, of Morthond; five hundred bowmen. Golasgil from the Anfalas, with a long line of hunters and herdsmen and villagers. A few grim hillsmen from Lamedon. About a hundred fisher-folk from the Ethir. From Pinnathe Gelin, Hirluin the Fair with three hundred gallant men in green. And last and most heartening Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, with a company of knights in full array and seven hundred tall men at arms, singing as they come.



The troops pass in, and silence falls on the men of Gondor. There are less than three thousand men come to their aid. Gloom descends on the dying day; the sky is grey but the setting sun seems to kindle the dust and fume in the East a blazing red.  ‘So ends a fair day in wrath!’ Pippin comments.

There will be wrath if Bergil doesn’t get back before the sundown bells. They go in and the Gate closes. Bergil says he is glad to have met Pippin and to thank his father for sending him to him. They separate and Pippin heads for the company messhall again; he is feeling hot and hungry. There he meets Beregond. They eat and then Pippin returns to the Old Guesthouse, hoping to see Gandalf. Beregond bids him farewell and reminds him he will be summoned before Denethor early tomorrow.

The streets are unusually dark; no lights after curfew and now no stars are in the sky. When he gets to their rooms Gandalf is not there. He tries looking out the window; it is like ‘looking into a pool of ink.’ He lies down, listening for the wizard’s return, and falls into an uneasy sleep. He wakes up to a light beyond the curtains of his alcove. The wizard has returned and is pacing and muttering. There are candles and rolls of parchment on the table. Pippin hears the wizard sigh. ‘When will Faramir return?’

Pippin pops his head through the curtains and greets him. He thought Gandalf had forgotten him; it’s been a long day.

‘But the night will be too short,’ said Gandalf. ‘I have come back here, for I must have a little peace, alone. You should sleep, in a bed while you may. At the sunrise I shall take you to the Lord Denethor. No, when the summons comes, not at sunrise. The Darkness has begun. There will be no dawn.’

Bits and Bobs

It was always (and may still be) a convention, especially in British literature, that when boys first meet there are usually challenges and even fights while they take each other’s measure. Then they become fast friends. Bergil is no exception here. Their friendship goes to emphasize Pippin’s basic youth and light-heartedness.

Forlong: (untranslated pre-Numenorean name)

Lossarnach; (Sindarin ‘flowery’ + untranslated ‘Arnach’)

Ringlo: (Sindarin ‘chill + flood’)

Dervorin: (untranslated Sindarin)

Duilin: (Sindarin, ‘swallow’[bird] or ‘singer by the river’)

Derufin: (?)

Anfalas: (Sindarin ‘long’ + ‘shore’; aka Langstrand)

Golasgil: (Sindarin? ‘leaf-star’?)

Lamedon: (untranslated pre-Numenorean)

Ethir Anduin: (Sindarin: ‘the mouths of the river Anduin’)

Hirluin: (probably Sindarin ‘lord’ + ‘blue’)

Pinnath Gelin: (Sindarin: ‘hills, downs’ + ‘green’)

Imrahil: (untranslated Adunaic); Denethor’s brother-in-law

Dol Amroth: (Sindarin: ‘dol = hill’ + Amroth ‘up-climber’)

It has been suggested that this list of lords is an example of a ‘Homeric catalog’, a roll of names made mostly to add ‘thickening’ or convincing detail to a narrative.

Imrahil’s sister married Denethor; that makes him Faramir and Boromir’s uncle. His home, Dol Amroth, used to be an Elven city, named after an elf-lord, and it is rumored that there is elven-blood in his heritage. His symbol is a silver swan on a blue field.


 

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