The Road goes ever on and on

“He Knows Not to What End He Rides; Yet if he Knew , He Still Would Go On.” Merry Begins His Ride to War.

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The Return of the King by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp. 760-762

The last few posts on this blog have been a kind of mini-series on Meriadoc Brandybuck, known to all as Merry. I didn’t intend to do this. I wanted to move on, as soon as possible, to think about Aragorn’s ride to war beginning with his challenge to Sauron through the Stone of Orthanc but each time I tried to do so I found myself being interrupted by the young hobbit. Merry did not want to be “left behind” and I found that I could not do that myself.

Poor Merry. At all times in this part of the story he is unsure about what part he might be able to play, if any part at all. He fears being left behind and yet when he rides with Théoden and the Rohirrim from Helm’s Deep to Dunharrow he finds that it is he who leaves behind Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and the Dúnedain of the North. For Aragorn emerges from the Hornburg and makes a startling announcement.

“We must ride our own road, and no longer in secret. For the time of stealth has passed. I will ride east by the swiftest way, and I will take the Paths of the Dead.”

We know that the sons of Elrond accompanied the Dúnedain on their journey south in search of Aragorn and that they brought with them word from their father:

“If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead.“

But only Aragorn heard these words and no other and he did not wish to discuss them further at that time, so when he does announce his intention to take that road it comes as a complete surprise to all who hear him. And poor Merry suddenly finds himself placed in Théoden’s hands as Aragorn makes his plans without him. A short while before Merry was grateful to have Théoden’s company but now he feels unhappy and abandoned by a companion with whom he has journeyed since Rivendell and has come to love.

Like Sam Gamgee, Merry often feels “torn in two”. He would dearly love to ride with Aragorn wherever he goes; he would have loved to have ridden with Pippin and Gandalf to Minas Tirith; and he has come to love Théoden as a father, but unlike Sam he does not have a lode-star that will enable him to overcome all doubt. Sam will walk with Frodo wherever he goes and this will always be his guiding principle. Merry was denied the option of going with Frodo when he and Pippin were taken by the orcs of Isengard and since that time he has been carried first by his enemies to Fangorn, then by Treebeard to Isengard, and lastly by the Rohirrim to Helm’s Deep. At no time has he any choice in where he goes and now he is being carried to Dunharrow.

Bilbo’s words on the night of the Long-expected Party come to mind.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

We remember that Merry began with “eager feet” at Crickhollow. He was the main organiser of the conspiracy that had been planned to prevent Frodo from leaving the Shire alone. We remember how he was ready to leave the Shire with ponies packed and how with confidence he led the hobbits into the Old Forest in order to avoid the Black Riders. But then he became the prisoner of Old Man Willow, of the Barrow Wight, and at last of the orcs of Isengard, “like baggage to be called for when all is over” and that is how he feels now.

I say, that is how Merry feels, but this does not determine what he does. He is deeply unhappy and yet on he rides. He cannot see it for himself but Aragorn sees. He watches Théoden, Éomer and Merry ride away then turns to his companions and says:

“There go three that I love, and the smallest not the least… He knows not to what end; yet if he knew, he still would go on.”

Merry’s heart may be torn in two but on he goes. Bilbo’s words may have been written for him.

“And whither then? I cannot say.”

For Bilbo himself was carried on and on to the Lonely Mountain through many adventures, none of which were chosen by himself, and last of all he entered the deadly presence of Smaug himself. The question of whether he felt inclined to engage in any of the adventures of his journey was never asked of him after Gandalf invited him to join the Dwarf company. It was a complete irrelevance. So too it is for Merry. He does not know what he is doing. He has not known for a very long time. But still he goes on. He goes on to a glory that no-one, most especially himself, could ever have imagined.

“The Road Goes Ever On and On”. Frodo, Sam and Pippin Begin a Journey that will change the World.

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The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R Tolkien (Harper Collins 1991) pp 69-73

Those who know and love The Lord of the Rings know that Tolkien does not exactly hurry to get his story started. This ought to be a problem. Most story tellers know that unless you have gained your readers’ attention within minutes you will have lost them for ever. And yet in the best selling work of fiction of the last hundred years its author simply does not seem to care. What we are treated to as the world-changing epic journey begins is the anachronistic tale of two gentlemen and their servant setting out for a walking holiday.

Even the more unsettling matters, Gandalf’s failure to make the rendezvous or the encounter between Gaffer Gamgee and the Nazgûl are not permitted to spoil the general sense of well being. At this point in the story the worst thing that can happen is a soreness of the shoulder caused by the rubbing of the straps on a backpack. Happy the man or woman whose problems in life are limited to things such as this.

There is only one thing that disturbs this sense of wellbeing and that is Frodo’s melancholy. If we were to take our Edwardian imagery just a little further then we might liken Frodo’s mood to that which was retrospectively applied to the beautiful summer of 1914. Each memory of that summer was to be marked for ever after by sadness. Those who survived the war would remember the ones who had been lost with whom they had shared that day. And so Frodo looks back at the lights of Hobbiton and of Bywater twinkling in the dark and wonders if he will ever see them again.

An inn in the Cotswolds by night

Pippin has no more concern than to make his journey to Buckland as comfortable as possible and so in the middle of the day on the first full day of walking he declares to his companions that although the road might go on for ever he cannot, at least without a rest. Frodo takes up Pippin’s reference to the road and begins to recite.

The Road goes ever on and on 
   Down from the door where it began. 
Now far ahead the Road has gone, 
   And I must follow if I can, 
Pursuing it with weary feet, 
   Until it joins some larger way, 
Where many paths and errands meet. 
   And whither then? I cannot say.

It is not the stepping into the Road that is daunting. Even the great journeys come to an end eventually as Bilbo once pointed out. “Do you realise that this is the very path that goes through Mirkwood, and that if you let it, might take you to the Lonely Mountain?” And as you picture the mountain in your imagination its very loneliness calls you to follow the path. This call is to adventure and it makes your heart grow larger. But the “wither then?”, that sense that the Road may never end, that there might never be a homecoming, never a place to rest your head at the last, that is a different matter altogether. And that too is a possibility when you step out of your door and onto the Road.

Tolkien’s use of capital letters in a noun like this is always significant. This road is not a lane that takes you to a welcoming inn or the road to the home of a good friend. It is the Road. It is life itself and you do not know its final end. No wonder most people choose not to entertain such imaginings. They are much too big and most of us, maybe all of us, are much too small. A Gandalf, calling us to adventure, must cross our paths if we are to embark on such journeys. And when he does so the longing must be greater than the fear; at least until the journey is well underway.

The Road Goes Ever On and On. Bilbo Sings for the Ending of an Age.

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At last the great company arrive in Rivendell and the hobbits are reunited with Bilbo.

“Hullo, hullo!” he said. “So you’ve come back? And tomorrow’s my birthday, too. How clever of you!”

And the hobbits have that special and rare delight of telling their story to one who listens with pleasure and interest, although Bilbo is now old and drifts off to sleep from time to time. But after two short weeks, and with the first signs of Autumn, Frodo and Sam both feel the call to go home. And they have a sense that they must not delay any longer.

Bilbo sends them off with sadness and also some ceremony and then he starts to chant.

“The Road goes ever on and on, Out from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, Let others follow it who can! Let them a journey now begin, But I at last with weary feet, Will turn towards the lighted inn, My evening-rest and sleep to meet.” 

There are three variants of this poem in The Lord of the Rings. The first comes at the decisive and remarkable moment of liberation when Bilbo freely gives up the Ring (with a little encouragement from Gandalf!) and sets off on his travels once again. At that moment Bilbo speaks of Pursuing it with eager feet and speaks of happiness and being swept off his feet. The Road, the One Road that is “like a great river; it’s springs… at every doorstep, and every path… its tributary” is at that moment all opportunity, all possibility.

Later on in the story we hear Frodo speak the same lines at the very start of his great journey and still in the Shire but this time the feet are not eager but weary. Frodo is contemplating the leaving of his home and his friends and a journey into danger.

And now Bilbo speaks of an end to the journey. The Road continues and others will follow it if they can. But he will do so no more. It is time to find a friendly inn by the roadside to enjoy a good meal and a long rest.

I am reminded of a prayer by John Henry Newman, founder of the Birmingham Oratory, whose priests undertook the responsibility of guardianship to Tolkien after the death of his mother. “Support us all the day long of this troublous life until the shades lengthen and the evening comes, the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over and our work is done. Then, Lord, in your mercy grant us safe lodging, a holy rest and peace at the last.” I do not think it too fanciful to think that this prayer was in Tolkien’s mind when he wrote this final version of Bilbo’s poem. I first heard it when I was a choir boy in an English parish church near Oxford. The vicar always ended Evensong with this prayer and it had quite an effect on me even though I was just 11 years old. But the image of homecoming has always had this power for me.

Bilbo speaks the poem for himself but also for the ending of an age. For Elrond, Galadriel and Gandalf it is also time to leave the Road to others. The Road goes ever on and on and Aragorn has the responsibility of founding a new age. “There is a real king now,” says Frodo to Bilbo,”and he will soon put the roads in order.” And Arwen has chosen to stay with him and not to leave the Road with her father. No-one knows where this road will lead. We walk the same road today pursuing our own errands that we have been given even as Bilbo did. The way as it was for him is often troublous but also wonderful. Each day unfolds both to us as it did to him. And the ending is a homecoming when the work is done.

Frodo is sent off with a blessing and a sense that he has a burden to shoulder once more. He senses that he is reaching the end of the Road but it is not quite just yet.