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Frodo Hill: Letter the First

Frodo Hill: Letter the First

Minas Ithil, 1 Víressë, Fourth Age 65

Madame,

I write to you now to give you undeniable Proof that I consider your least Wish to be a Command. For although my Modesty shudders at the Remembrance of the earlier Part of my Life, I can hardly withstand such gentle but persistent Inquiries as you have made in your last twelve Letters, concerning several scandalous Episodes of my younger Days.

'Tis true that I am among the few Persons still living who can recall the secret History of the fair Halfling of the North, Frodo Baggins. This Frodo is justly celebrated through all Gondor as the Saviour of Middle-earth, but then, alas! he was but a single lost Traveller, and his wanderings in the City of Osgiliath proved near Fatal to the Success of his Quest and to the Hopes of us all.

My Narration shall also reveal much concerning our wise and gallant Prince Faramir of Ithilien in his Youth. For at that Time some Parts of his Behaviour mystified many in his Service, and the full Explanation of his strange Actions has never been made Publick.

And I am sure, Madame, that a Lady of your tender Feelings will not take it amiss, if I now and then stray from the strictly Politick part of my Tale to relate how Cupid's Darts were fired even in the ruin'd Streets of our besieg'd City. Many Songs have been Sung of the great Passion uniting Frodo to the Halfling who accompanied him, a Servant of his House, yet the Master of his Heart. But it has been forgot that this Passion came so near to fading unrequited and unfulfill'd, and that it might have perished indeed if not for the Events I am about to relate.

And 'twas also at this Time of great Fear and Peril that Prince Faramir, then but a Captain in the Armies of Gondor, discover'd Love in the most unlikely Place imaginable, a Love which has ever after burn'd with a Flame so bright as to make him a standing Example of Happiness to Mankind.

Before I begin, Madame, I must beg your Indulgence and take but a Moment to assure you (lest you have any Doubts upon this Score), that every Word of my Relation shall be the plain Truth, either as I saw it with my own Eyes or as I heard it thereafter from those concerned.

And at no Time shall I ever festoon my Tale with strain'd Metaphor, lengthy Simile, obscure Catachresis, nor any of those other hateful Figures of Speech so current among our fashionable Authors of Minas Tirith. For I hold as a sacred Maxim, what you have so often told me, that Truth shines the brightest in her Nakedness, and that the elaborate Dress in which some Authors clothe her merely hides her greatest Beauties from the Reader's curious Eye.

Nor shall I distract or dismay you with those tedious Digressions, such as Histories of unimportant Persons, Reflections upon moral Subjects, sallies of feeble Wit, or Remarks upon literary Criticism, all of which Flummeries act like so much Lard, clogging the free Flow and Movement of the Story, and adding much to that nasty Thing which you and I both, Madame, so greatly abhor: an uncouth and unnecessary Prolixity in a Tale.

But to my story -- You must know, that at the time when Gondor and all the lands of Men were under Seige by the Creatures of the Dark Lord, that our fair Country of Ithilien was then nothing like it is now in these happier Days. Now the blessings of Peace smile upon the Land; then the God of War strode angry across it; now Ithilien is a Garden; then it was a Wilderness; now it basks in the Light of Gondor; then it lay in the shadow of Mordor. Nay, Ithilien itself had been long abandon'd by all decent Folk, and was the abode of foul Wraiths and of the wretched Things who served them. No Men would have walked those haunted Woods were it not for the Courage of the soldiery of Gondor. Led by the young Captain Faramir, their Daring knew no Bounds, for in frequent Raids they harried the Enemy even to the very Gates of the City of the Wraiths.

Yet even the greatest Courage will falter with constant and unvarying Exercise; and no Soldier, however bold his Spirit, will continue in the same happy Condition without occasional Rest. And so it was that Captain Faramir and his men would oft resort to the city of Osgiliath and to such Recreations as that Place could afford.

A Lady of your tender Years, Madame, would scarce credit me were I to describe in any Detail the shocking State of the City at that Time. For an unending series of Wars had reduced much of it to Rubble, and in Truth that Place had been near to deserted for a long Tale of Years. Yet its great Conveniency had led the Soldiers to use it as a Base, and whither the Soldiers went, other Persons would follow, so that the various Needs of these active and vigorous Men might best be served.

Captain Faramir was justly celebrated for the anxious Care he devoted to his Men, and he extended his Protection to any who served them in some humble Office; whether to provide wholesome and delicious Food, or to tend their various articles of Dress, or to repair their Weaponry.

'Tis hardly a matter of surprise, then, that the House wherein I was at that Time employed flourished under Captain Faramir's beneficent Rule, for a Gentleman of his Wisdom and Discretion could not but acknowledge that the humblest Soldier in the Army deserves, and may indeed require, an occasional Evening of Dalliance with some Lady or fair Youth, one whose Modesty will not forbid the poor weary Man to prosecute his Love even to the farthest Point of Tenderness.

In short, Madame (for one of your great Innocence may not entirely comprehend my meaning), I was employed in that Place, along with many other excellent Ladies, fair Youths, and a fine well-grown Goat, to provide Pleasure to any Customer of the House, accepting in Return only those modest Fees required to keep the House in good Order, as well as the occasional trifling Gift: viz., Silks, Satins, any old bit of Gold, or Jewels not too small, that our generous Swains might be inspired by Gratitude to provide.

And on this Topic you must permit me a brief Digression. In these Days of Peace there are Ladies, more noted for their Elegancy than their Candour, who condemn such a Mode of Life in the strongest Terms. You will pardon me, Madame, when I say, that such Ladies have taken Thoughtlessness to its lowest Pitch; for none should judge such a Choice without knowing the Circumstances that led to't. Many among us had resorted to this mode of Life only when all our Friends were lost to the Horrors of War. Such indeed was my Case. For my Father lost his Life in the Service of his Country, and my Mother and Sisters -- but soft, I will not dwell upon Griefs long past.

Suffice it to say, I was thrown upon my Wits at the Age of sixteen, with no Money, Prospects, or Possessions, and naught save my Beauty to make my Way in the World. In wild romantick Tales, the fair Heroine would die of Grief rather than trouble herself to earn her Bread. But it is a plain Fact that while Breath continues, one must find some Way to live, nay and to laugh as well, though what Men call one's Virtue is gone.

But to my Tale -- Let me hasten to assure you, Madame, that by the time of my Story, sometime in my eighteenth Year, (1) I had found in this way of Life much to console me, for in the Company of the Ladies I found some Recompense for the loss of my Sisters. Many Ladies and Youths of that House were of good Family (tho' the Goat, I believe, was of but common Stock), and the common Practices of the House were design'd to encourage the most genteel Sociability among us.

For when the Hours of our Labour were passed, 'twas the general Custom of the Ladies to retire to a common Room in the back of the House, the fair Youths having another such reserved to them in a distant Quarter, and the Goat being housed in a Shed hard by. Our Chamber was provided only with those poor Scraps that our little Establishment could afford in a City at War; for there was scarce any Furnishing, save perhaps eight or ten soft Couches and Armchairs well upholster'd in heavy Silk. The Floor was the plainest Wood, covered only with a Few thick Carpets woven in the colourful Designs of the Haradrim. The Windows let in the Chill, save when we closed the velvet Curtains to hide our Bower from prying Eyes. The Walls were quite bare, save for some five or six curious Pictures depicting amorous Scenes, and some Few Tapestries embroider'd in the simplest Designs in gold and silver Thread. And scarce any Refreshment was to be had, unless it were a little Tea, fresh Bread with Butter, some jellied Fruits, six or seven kinds of Cheese, and a scant assortment of Brandies and Cordials. Though these last were never touch'd upon by any of the Ladies, all of whom were abstemious almost to a Fault, save when any one or another among us was moved by some strong Emotion: in which Case 'twas understood to be a sisterly Duty for all the Others to keep her Company, though merely in a sociable Way.

Despite the Poverty of our Surroundings, however, we none of us lost Heart, but sought ways to Console each other in our Sorrows by seeking out rational forms of Amusement.

An elaborately carved wood Cabinet contained several Hundreds of Books in the Languages of both Men and Elves; nay, and in that of the Dwarves as well. While this last is a most difficult Tongue for Strangers to Learn, I assure you Madame, that it is one well worth your Study. For 'tis little known how exquisitely the Dwarvish poets describe the Arts of Love. Indeed their Treatises on that Subject are most curious, for the Dwarves are a remarkably clever and inventive Race, and have applied their Talents to Pleasure with as much Earnestness and Success as to any other Endeavour.

Oft, then, we Ladies would pass the time in Reading, or in learning those Languages contain'd in our Books; and when these Resources had been Exhausted, many of the Ladies took up the Pen themselves, and wrote, for their own Pleasure and those of the Others, many Tales of Adventure and Intrigue in which the warmer Passions played no small Part.

It is not therefore to be wonder'd that on that fateful Night when my Tale begins, the Ladies of the House were engag'd in those learned Pursuits I have just described. The Evening was a notable one, for we had just obtain'd, at great Trouble and Expense to ourselves, the latest amorous Volume by a Dwarvish Author much admir'd among us. One of the Ladies was reading aloud from his most enlightening Work, tho' the Harmony of our little Society was somewhat disturb'd by a small Dispute which had arisen concerning one of the Engravings with which the Work was adorn'd.

For one of the Ladies maintain'd, in a Tone that would brook no Disagreement, that the Position depicted therein was not possible to sustain, or at least not for the great length of Time asserted by the Dwarvish author. In Response to which, another Fair Disputant replied that the first was in Error, for some of the Dwarves were quite flexible, and became more so in the Course amorous Play. And this Lady further declare'd that she had discover'd the true Source of her Opponent's Error, in that, she held the Illustration in Question upside-down.

The first Lady had just opened her Lips to make some impolitick Retort, when of a sudden, from a Door leading to a back Entrance to the House, we heard a loud importunate Pounding. Many of the Ladies trembled at the very Sound, for our Customers met with us in quite another Place, and no other Visitors could be expected at such a late Hour. In those dangerous Days, once the Shades of Evening had drawn across the Sky, few wander'd abroad in the city Streets, for Fear of the Creatures of the Enemy.

At length the lovely Amelia, (2) one of the sweetest Ladies and much beloved by all the others, spoke, though in a voice somewhat strain'd with Emotion. "Perchance," said she, "'tis some weary Traveller, fled to this our fair City from some distant Province now attack'd by the Enemy. "Twould be an act of Kindness, Ladies, to grant Entrance to such desperate Need."

"That may be so," quoth another. "But 'tis said that the Spies of the Enemy have many Guises, some foul and some fair. And how are we know whether such poor Refugees are indeed what they seem?" And many of the other Ladies nodded Agreement to this reasonable Question, for the Speaker, the learned Clarissa, was justly celebrated for her Wisdom and Discretion, and had thus obtain'd a great Authority among us. (3)

But another of the Ladies rose from her Couch and paced about Room, exclaiming with some Impatience, "Whether they be Friends or Foes, they knock with such Violence that we could make but little Resistance, should they seek to enter by Force. The Question is not, should we permit them Entry, but how shall we defend ourselves, when once they stand within our Walls?"

And with that, she withdrew from her Petticoats a sharp Stiletto, wherewith she oft arm'd herself against the many Dangers that attended our Way of Life.

Several other of the Ladies gasped, yet for a Moment none offer'd an Argument against these Remarks. For this Speaker, the fair Seleta, rarely said a Word in Company, but Lurked here and there among us. And on those rare Occasions when she broke her Silence, the other Ladies took some little Time to recover from their Surprise. (4) But for myself, Madame, I must confess that her infrequent Remarks, however hasty and uncouth they might have been, oft came closest to expressing the Feelings of my own Heart.

"Perchance -- " the peaceable Amelia began with some Trepidation, but she was interrupted by a redoubled Pounding upon the Door, echoing throughout our Chamber with such a Force that the Chandelier -- for so we call'd our most curious Lantern wrought of elvish Crystal -- shook where it hung with a Sound like the Chiming of many Bells.

"Lady save us!" cried Amelia.

"Open!" came a Voice from without the Door, "in the name of Captain Faramir!"

At the Sound of this well-loved Name, one of the Ladies rush'd to the Window -- and in Truth, Madame, I know not why it never enter'd our Heads to do this before -- and cried "'Tis he indeed!"

At this Seleta lowered her Stiletto (tho' still she kept it near at Hand) and withdrew to her Couch, whilst several other Ladies made hasty Adjustments to their Hair and Dress. Meanwhile Clarissa stepped briskly to the Door and flung it open, revealing our gallant Captain in the Entrance.

'Tis hard indeed, Madame, in these latter Years, when our Prince of Ithilien is so much praised for his Justice, his Wisdom, and his Courage, to recollect that in those Days, Captain Faramir would present to the curious Eye an Impression of quite another Kind, to wit, a near overpowering Sense of his great Beauty. He was at that Time in his six and thirtieth Year, a mere Youth in the reckoning of the Men of Númenor, and in his Face there linger'd still some Traces of the Boy that he had been. His Hair fell about his Face in soft Ringlets like spun Gold, a Colour most unusual in one of his Family, and yet one that no Lady could find it in her Heart to dislike. His Eyes were the grey of storm-toss'd Seas, darkening when strong Feeling clouded his Brow. His Nose -- 'tis true, Madame, that his Nose was called large by some, but most agreed that 'twas noble, as befitted one of his great Station. And his Mouth -- while some said his Lips were over-full and his Mouth more generous than fair, there were many amongst us who found that Mouth bewitching indeed, like a late Rose of Autumn one single Hour past its most perfect Bloom, in that Moment when the wild Excess of its Beauty has been touch'd by the first Shadow of its own Decay. Let the fashionable Connoisseur, slave to a false Idea of Elegance, declare the flower's Petals overblown! Any Lady with Tastes form'd by the dictates of Nature will reply, that the Fragrance of such a Blossom is sweeter than any other.

And yet I know not how it was, Madame, but on this Night I was struck in my Heart (and the other Ladies afterwards said they felt the same) with the Notion that much was amiss in that Face we all knew. For the Captain's Countenance was stern; he frown'd most fiercely; he spoke not a Word in greeting, but stood glowering in the Door, as if we Ladies were his worst Enemies rather than profess'd Admirers who waved our Kerchiefs and cheered whenever he chanced to pass our House in the Street.

"Madame," he said to Clarissa, who curtseyed before him, "I would enter this House."

"Sir," quoth she, "you are most welcome."

Before she could add another Word he crossed the Threshold, forcing her indeed to skip out of his Way as he strode forward, followed by five or six of his Men. They all of them bore Burdens of the strangest Kind: viz., several large padlocked Chests, and some great heavy Thing taller than the height of two Men, which proved on Examination to be one of the fine Carpets of the Haradrim, rolled up and bound with heavy Ropes. All these the Men placed in the room's darkest Corners, paying not the slightest Heed to the Ladies who scrambled aside to let them pass.

When almost all these mysterious Packages had been stowed away, the Captain stood in the center of the Room bearing one last Burden in his Arms, tho' it was so closely wrapp'd in Cloaks and Blankets that we none of us could see what it was. "Madame," said he, "I would speak with your Master."

At this several of the Ladies exchanged Glances but hesitated to speak, for it was not clear to whom the Captain address'd this Remark. For he seemed to see none of us, but gaz'd down at the Burden he carried, like one in a Trance, or under some Spell. So strange was his Manner, and so very far from his usual mild Courtesy, that several among us began to wonder whether naught but some strange Magick could account for this Change.

At length Clarissa spoke. "Sir," quoth she, "if by our Master you mean Mr. Peters, at this late Hour he would be retir'd to his Bedchamber, but I can send some Girl to fetch him if you desire."

"I do so desire," murmured the Captain, still gazing half-distracted upon his Burden.

At this Time several among the younger Ladies withdrew quietly behind our older and wiser Friends, for we had no Wish to run the Errand propos'd, however much we might have desired to oblige Clarissa in ordinary Affairs. For this Mr. Peters, whom the Captain call'd our Master, did indeed own the House wherein we were employ'd. While our Gratitude to him was great -- for 'twas he who had permitted the Formation of our little Community -- he was a Man of strange Moods and sudden Changes of Mind. And tho' his Place of Business was devoted to Love, some among of the Ladies had come to believe that it was of late the Violence of War, the Shock of Battle, and the Craft of Political Intrigue that engag'd his Passions most deeply. And much as they lov'd him, these Ladies feared he might at any Moment sacrifice us for the Sake of his darling Pursuits. Yet others insisted, that only his attention to the Arts of War could allow the House to Flourish, because the Nature of the Times demanded such. And others still declar'd, that his most puzzling Actions were but a Feint, that his Heart was Kindness itself, and that we had but to trust him and all would be well in the End.

He was, in short, for us the cause of great Speculation and a Figure near as much dreaded as belov'd. You may thus imagine, Madame, my Relief when Clarissa chose some other young Lady to fetch him from his Sleep.

"Sir," quoth Clarissa when the Girl was gone, "I doubt not but that Mr. Peters will soon be among us. In the mean Time, will you take some small Refreshment? For surely, Sir, you must be weary, having borne such Burdens over Distance, and done so in this foul Darkness that hides the Enemy's Creatures from all but the most attentive Watchfulness and Care."

On hearing such kind Words, the Captain at last spar'd her a Glance. "Foul indeed is the Darkness," quoth he, "and great has been our Labour in keeping it at Bay. For we have been in Battle against the Haradrim not six Hours since, and these Burdens you see before you are the Spoils of Combat, bought with much Blood and Pain."

"Sir," said Clarissa, "you have our Gratitude, and that of all the Citizens of Gondor." And to this Remark the other Ladies murmur'd their heartfelt Agreement.

"Then show it," quoth the Captain, "and keep secret what Things you see here. For they concern the most urgent Matters of State, far beyond the Understanding of simple Women such as yourselves."

At that moment there was a Noise, from the Corner of the Room where Seleta stood, like unto a Pan of warm Milk boiling over upon a hot Stove. But before the Captain could turn to investigate the Source of this Sound, Clarissa said, in a mild Tone which yet did not entirely conceal her sense of Injury, "You may, Sir, depend upon our Discretion, in all those Matters regarding our country's Safety."

"I depend upon nothing," cried he, "save what the Sword can win, and therefore I say to you" -- and here the Captain swept the Room with a most fearsome Glare -- "that your Silence will be ensured by your Solitude, for you will be imprisoned within this Chamber whilst it is necessary for these Things to be kept here. And should any among you speak one Word to Outsiders, or attempt to Escape, you will instantly be put to the Sword, and three of your Friends with you."

The Silence with which this Declaration was met was perhaps more profound and unbroken than that which existed before the world's Creation, when all was dark and empty. And indeed, Madame, mere Words could never have express'd the Pain we felt, not merely at being subject to such a Threat, but at hearing such Language from one whom, until that Moment, we had all of us so extravagantly admir'd.

'Twas Seleta who first gather'd Breath to speak, and I scarce know, Madame, whether she would have stabb'd the Captain through the Heart with no Thought to the Consequence, or waited first, to deliver herself of a few choice Remarks before committing such a rash Act. But in the Event, both the Captain's Safety and her own were miraculously preserved, when we all of us were surprised by a soft Sound coming from the Burden in his Arms. And we realized to our Astonishment that the thing he carried was no Chest or Carpet, but a living Being, and one, furthermore, that seem'd near to waking from some Fit or Slumber that previously had possess'd it.

The Captain, on hearing this Sound, seem'd to forget us, and indeed to forget all Things save the Creature held close in his Arms. Pushing to one Side a young Lady who stood too near, he strode to the nearest Couch and knelt before it, setting down the Creature with all imaginable Care. And as he did so, the Cloak fell from the Creature's face and neck, and at last he lay expos'd to our View.

Hushed be every ruder Breath. Madame, if your Attention has perchance for one or two Moments stray'd in the Course of this my Narration, I implore you to put aside all other Letters -- to shut your Ears against the Chatter of your Friends -- to cease your idle Surfing, to abandon List and Archive, nay, to cast AIM itself aside -- and compose yourself to listen. For lo! adorn'd with all the Charms in which Nature can array him, bedecked with Beauty, Sprightliness, Innocence, Modesty, and Tenderness, breathing Sweetness from his rosy Lips, and darting brightness from his sparkling Eyes, the lovely Frodo comes. (5)

Nay, Madame, 'tis not what you think; that Part of my Story lies far ahead. Here I mean only this: 'twas indeed at this Moment -- sweet lady Elbereth! on the eighth Page of my Letter! but better Late, as they say, than not at all -- that first I beheld the Hero of my Tale. Such Loveliness in living Thing I had never seen before nor imagined in my Mind. There he lay, his Face tumbled o'er with tousled Curls dark as the hushed velvet Sky of Midnight. His Eyes were closed, their Lashes resting glossy black against soft Skin that united the most exquisite Colours of the Lily and the Rose. His curved Lips were parted in the heavy Breath of Sleep -- and never, Madame, since the Elves first woke beneath the Stars and smiled at the Beauty above them, did any Lips cry out so plain, that they must be cover'd at once with Kisses, or the first Purpose of their Creation would be set at naught.

No sooner was this fair Apparition set before us, than the entire Room was filled with a soft rushing Sound, like a sweet Zephyr blowing gentle from the West, for as each Lady in the Room look'd upon this loveliest of Creatures, she sighed, and with a rustling of Petticoats took a Step or two Toward him, half-aware.

"Oh, such Beauty!" sighed Amelia.

"Indeed," said the judicious Clarissa, "he is fair; fairer, I deem, than most."

"Sweet Lady," quoth Seleta, "but he's hot."

And by some of the Ladies this last Remark was judged wanting in Seriousness. But even as Seleta spoke, she turn'd her Face hastily away, and one or two Ladies noted, that she wiped a Tear from her Eye. And greatly did they wonder at this Change in her Demeanour. For whenever, in the Past, some one of the Ladies chanced to speak of Love as a serious Matter, she had laughed, and call'd Love a mere Fancy, a Bubble, a Toy cast by the Valar upon Middle-earth to amuse Men and to stupefy those they deceived. Yet this Day showed that it is the Heart most careless in its imagined Freedom, that finds itself in Chains of Adamant at Last.

A Lesson, Madame, to which I oft have call'd your Attention to no Avail; but you are young, and Youth must ever discover for itself what Age has suffer'd long Ago.

But scarce had we observ'd this Change in Seleta's Heart, when the fair Creature on the Couch stirr'd once more. He moan'd most piteously, as if he felt some Pain, and a Frown marred the perfect Smoothness of his alabaster Brow. His Eyelids flutter'd for some Moments until they open'd full, and oh, what a brave new World was spread before us then! -- So many Songs have been sung of those Eyes, and yet I despair, Madame, of finding any Way to communicate an adequate Idea of their Beauty. For I know of no Words in the Languages of Men or Elves -- nay, not even in that of the Dwarves, those supreme Artisans of Love -- to express what then we saw for the first Time. Many among us stood in silent Astonishment at the Thought that a living Creature walk'd among us upon Middle-earth, who yet bore upon his Person two such sparkling Portions of the Heaven that the Valar have placed above us as the Habitation of Light.

Or to put it in plain Westron: his Eyes, Madame, were blue. And I could wish you no greater Happiness in your Life than that you should one day see their equal.

And yet those Eyes, it soon became apparent, saw naught truly as yet, for the Creature thrashed from side to side, and looked about him, yet blankly, without ever Resting upon any one Object. The Captain seemed most distress'd by this Behaviour, and endeavoured to sooth the creature's Agony by smoothing a Hand through his Curls and loosening the Cloak at his Throat. To these Ministrations the Creature seem'd to respond, for his Convulsions first slowed, and then ceased altogether. His Eyes drifted shut until their blue Tint was nearly hid by feather-soft Lashes. But before they shut entirely he grasped the Captain's hand in his own, press'd it to his Lips, and at last clasp'd it to his heaving Breast, as if he wish'd nothing more than to cling to it for ever.

The Captain, who of late had seem'd so fierce to us all, submitted to these Familiarities with nary a harsh Word, nay, without so much as a Frown to reprove the Affront to his Dignity. The Reason for this extraordinary Complaisancy became immediately apparent, when he leaned over the fair Captive in his Arms like one Fascinated, drawing ever closer with the Creature's every passing Breath, until at last his Lips hover'd so close to the Sweetness beneath him that the slightest Motion would draw them into a Kiss. And indeed I know not how, but the next Moment brought their Mouths together in a tender yielding Pressure, to which the Creature seem'd by no means averse, for he arched his Back, and wrapped an Arm around the Captain's Neck, and open'd his lips at the soft Urging of the One who held him.

But the exquisite Sight of their Union vanished as the Captain's golden Curls fell forward to mingle with the dark ones on the Cushion beneath, hiding the Faces of the Lovers from the Ladies. In despite of our great Curiosity, and our advantageous Positions only a few Feet away from the oblivious Pair, we knew Nothing of what pass'd between 'em, but that the Kiss lasted for some Moments.

At last however the Captain drew back, and gaz'd down in Wonder. The Creature meantime sank with a Gasp back into the Couch, his Eyes now shut fast. Once more he pulled the Captain's Hand toward his Lips. But alas! his previous Fit overtook him, and the Hand fell at once from his weak and nerveless Grasp. In that last sweet moment before he was claim'd by Sleep, he drew a deep Breath, and said, in a soft Moan that spoke most Plainly of Desire --

"Oh, Sam."

The Effect of these Words upon the Captain may easily be guess'd at. And here, Madame, you must permit me to make some Reflexions on this unfortunate Episode. I most earnestly commend to your Attention, in Affairs of the Heart, the Use of such fond Endearments as dearest, darling, sweetling, and my love. 'Tis true that the Generality of Mankind dismiss such Words as mere airy Nothings, but their Value is beyond all Calculation, in preventing little Confusions of this Kind. For Madame, a Lady may on occasion find that the Youth in her Arms and the Youth in her Thoughts are two different Persons entirely. And in such a Case, she may experience no small Embarrassment, if at the Height of Passion she should chance to call the one by the Name of the other. Yet if every Youth is dearest, such Accidents may be avoided, and a Lady may safely express the depth of her Tenderness without being oblig'd to specify its Object.

It was doubtless the creature's Illness which prevented him from taking such a sensible Precaution. The Captain, however, seem'd indisposed to make Allowances for his Lover's sad State, for he scowl'd at the Name of this Sam as he might at the Name of the Dark Lord himself. With an Exclamation of Fury he stood. His Chest heaved, his Hands curl'd into Fists at his Sides, and his entire Body trembled, as if he scarce could restrain himself from Violence. One or two of the Ladies cried out, for so angry did he seem, that we feared for the Life of the Creature whom he had held in his Arms not a Moment before.

But at length the worst of this Storm of Passion pass'd, and he sufficiently master'd himself, to turn from the cause of his Anger. He look'd to Amelia, who chance'd to stand the nearest, and so affrighted was she that she stepp'd back half a Pace.

"Madame," quoth he, in a low Tone near to a Growl, "I will have you know, that this Creature is a Prisoner of Gondor. And as there is -- that is, I say," -- and here the Captain appeared to Pause in thought -- "some little Inconveniency, at present, in the Chambers generally reserved for the Purposes of Justice, I have resolv'd, that he is to stay in this Room until he is call'd for."

We all of us wonder'd greatly, that the Captain, whose Scrupulousness in the Cause of Justice was so well known, should propose such an irregular Proceeding, as to keep a Prisoner in a House such as ours.

But the Mind of fair Amelia ran upon quite a different Question. "Sir," quoth she, "should we not fetch a Healer to succour this fair Creature in whatever strange Malady has reduced him to this sad Condition?"

"Nay, Madame," he returned, "there is naught for the Healers to do: for this Malady lies beyond their Skill. A Shock has been inflicted upon him by the foul Nazgûl you have seen poisoning the Skies in past Days."

Here all the Ladies gasp'd in Horror, for these Nazgûl were perchance the most vile of the Terrors to which the Enemy had subjected us of late. But the Captain took not the least Notice of our Fear. "The Creature shall recover," said he, "if our past Experience is any Guide. When he does so, give him Food and Water, but he is not to leave this Place, any more than you are, nor to call for Help, nor seek his Friends."

Amelia curtsey'd her Acquiescence, which in Truth she could hardly withhold. And yet her kind Heart could not forbear from making some further Inquiry. "If you please," said she, "what is this Creature? And why does he merit such Treatment? 'Tis true that the Dangers of the Times prescribe all manner of reasonable Precaution, and yet to my Mind, dear Sir" -- and here she sigh'd, and look'd at the Creature with a Compound of Longing and Wonder -- "he does not look evil."

"That is not for a Woman such as you to determine," said the Captain, "and I would advise you to submit to the Judgment of your Betters in this and other matters. Not look evil! Perhaps not, but evil comes in many forms. For this is a perian, a Halfling of the North -- "

"A Halfling!" cried the learned Clarissa, and some of the other Ladies exclaim'd as well. We had read of this distant Northern race in some of our Books, although I must confess, Madame, that many of the Ladies had dismissed them as them a mere Story told to amuse Children. 'Twas difficult to believe, even with the Creature there before us, that a Halfling had truly come forth from the old Tales to walk upon the Earth, or, in this case, to lie upon the Couch. And 'tis certain that no Tale of the Halflings had once mentioned that they were anything like so Fair as this Paragon of Loveliness.

The Captain's Certitude, however, persuaded us all. "Just so," he return'd, "and if, Madame, you know aught of them, then you know they have no Business in the fair Fields of Ithilien where we found this one of late, and that any who wander there, must be suspected of Spying at the very least."

"But Sir -- " Clarissa began.

"Silence!" the Captain cried, in a Voice of Thunder. "Must I listen to the Mewling of impertinent Women?" The Captain's Men, who had stood watchful throughout this Scene, stepp'd forward, and we fear'd that Clarissa might pay some dreadful Price for her Boldness.

If such a Price was to be paid, however, it would not be demanded just yet, for the Captain strode to the Door, and his Men follow'd. As he stood on the Threshold, he paus'd to make one last Remark. "I go," said he, "to seek your Master, as one who can accept rational Instruction in this matter, and he will tell you in turn what Gondor requires of you. For now, all you need know, is this: should any one of you try to escape, or aid this Criminal in trying to do so, the Attempt will be met with Instant Death!"

And with that, he swept from the Room. The Door slamm'd behind him, and we all heard the Key turn in the Lock.

The Halfling stirr'd once more on the Couch. "Sam," he moaned, in a Voice that would melt a Heart of Stone, or make Dragons weep. But now the Walls of our House and multitudes of armed Men of Gondor lay between him and what was so evidently the fondest Desire of his Heart. He was a Prisoner of a Captain changed beyond all Recognition. As indeed were we all, facing a Morrow that would bring an uncertain Fate.

§   §   §  

But what that Morrow brought, Madame, must be the Theme of another Letter; for I feel that I have tried your patience quite long enough with this one. Please give my kindest regards to your dear Mother; and if you wish to hear the Conclusion to this my Tale, you may rest assured, that I shall oblige you at the earliest possible Opportunity. Believe me, Madame, in this Matter as in all others I shall ever be,

Your most obedient humble Servant,

Maria-Susannah

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Letter the Second

Notes

1. Cleland follows eighteenth-century custom here and refers to someone who is seventeen as being "in her eighteenth year." (You start counting from zero, just as we do today when we call the year 2003 part of "the twenty-first century.") Return to story

2. For her female characters, Maria-Susannah Cleland obviously abandoned any attempt to use Westron names (perhaps feeling that they would be strange to an eighteenth century readership) and substituted names that would have been familiar from popular contemporary literature. Amelia, of course, is the titular heroine of Henry Fielding's 1751 novel. Return to story

3. Clarissa is the titular heroine of Samuel Richardson's novel, which is either one of the most fascinating character studies ever written or the longest rapefic ever written, depending on your point of view. Return to story

4. Here we have a clue to one of most intriguing literary puzzles of the eighteenth century. Seleta was of course the heroine of Samuel Johnson's Seleta, or, the Slave to Pleasure (1759), a potboiler romance he wrote in two days in order to pay for that part of his mother's funeral expenses not covered by Rasselas. Unfortunately this fascinating early text has been lost. It did not sell well, and in his later life Johnson destroyed all the copies he could find, for the romance had been widely criticized on the grounds that its heroine was "not drawn from Nature." While Johnson meant to portray Seleta as a prostitute in a highly romanticized version of Minas Tirith, most critics saw her as nothing more than a mouthpiece for Johnson's own ideas on various philosophical and literary subjects. If Mrs. Cleland had access to a copy of this work and modeled her heroine on Johnson's, then Frodo Hill may become an crucial source text in Johnsonian as well as Westron studies, offering key insights into Johnson's otherwise unpublished views on the events of the Third Age. Return to story

5. Here Mrs. Cleland has borrowed a line or two from Fielding (Tom Jones, 1749), and certainly if she had to plagiarize she could have chosen no better source. All my researches have told me nothing, however, of what she meant by "AIM." Return to story

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Letter the Second