Presence of Barrow-Wights in Middle Earth.

[Daerndir]

As a LOTR fan I recently started playing the videogame Lord of the Rings Online (LOTRO). It's a wonderful way to expand the lore and define the geography of Middle Earth. The "Shadows of Angmar" storyline mainly focusses on the hidden dangers left by the Witch King all over Eriador. What annoys me a little is the fact that the game is just full of ghost stories, and is mainly about fighting undead servants of the Witch King. In this thread I'd like to focus on the barrow downs. Tolkien never spoke of the barrow downs that much, and the books picture it as a misterious deserted place where evil spirits dwell inside their barrows (originally sent there by the Witch King to prevent the area from being repopulated and keeping the kingdom of Cardolan from restoring) with the power to trap those who get too close and reanimate the corpses of former arnorian dwellers as well as elves that lived there before. Still, the place is deserted and not that dangerous as long as you take your precautions. The game though, pictures it as an area completely infested with rottening skeletal warriors and ghosts all over the surface. The same happens to Haragmar (also known as the red swamp, North East of the last bridge in the lone-lands) and especially Fornost. I can understand that as a videogame It needs to be dramatized a little more, but I was wondering if the community would believe in a presence of wights much bigger than specified by the lore, and to what point.
Thank you.

 

[Ithilethiel]

I believe the Barrow-wights only decrease not increase in number and that beginning number was set with those put there by the Witch-King of Angmar. How many that was is never specified. The only clue being the numbers of the Men of the North (Dúnedain of Cardolan) and the Kings of Men from the First Age buried there who became indwelt by the demons whose bodies were destroyed escaping from the light of the Sun.

To tell you the truth, the Barrow-wights are more frigtening a proposition to me than the Nazgûl. So how many would it take to keep everyone but Tom Bombadil at bay? I'm guessing as you said the game employs overkill (excuse the pun).

I'm not as learned in the lore or letters of Tolkien so I'm hoping someone better versed chimes in.

 

[Squint-eyed Southerner]

I saw your thread when you first posted it, but as I'm not familiar with the videogame, didn't consider myself in a position to reply. Is it set in a specific time period?

In "The Hunt for the Ring" in UT, one of Tolkien's notes says:

. . .he himself (the "Black Captain", i.e. the Witch King) visited the Barrow-downs. . .stayed there for some days, and the Barrow-Wights were roused, and all things of evil spirit, hostile to Elves and Men, were on watch with malice in the Old Forest and on the Barrow-downs.

This looks like a return to an idea Tolkien considered at one point during the composition of LOTR: that all the evil things encountered in the course of the story were in some way "controlled" by Sauron. He discarded that conception, as can be seen in the final text, but as Ithilethiel says, the wights were originally sent by the WK, so would be open to his commands.

As for the other "things of evil spirit", other than Old Man Willow, I don't know what they would be. Even he was familiar to Tom Bombadil, as was the malice of the Old Forest to the Bucklanders. Neither of these seem to be anything recent.

Also, there's this famous line, which has led to much speculation over the years:

'"Strider" I am to one fat man who lives within a day's March from foes that would freeze his heart,or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly'.

And just before this:

'But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us'.

Aside from the literary effect of this deliberate ambiguity, hinting at a far larger world outside the narrower focus of the story, it can certainly be said that it allows scope for videogame designers (not to mention fan-fic writers!).

 

[Ithilethiel]

I saw your thread when you first posted it, but as I'm not familiar with the videogame, didn't consider myself in a position to reply. Is it set in a specific time period?

In "The Hunt for the Ring" in UT, one of Tolkien's notes says:

. . .he himself (the "Black Captain", i.e. the Witch King) visited the Barrow-downs. . .stayed there for some days, and the Barrow-Wights were roused, and all things of evil spirit, hostile to Elves and Men, were on watch with malice in the Old Forest and on the Barrow-downs.

This looks like a return to an idea Tolkien considered at one point during the composition of LOTR: that all the evil things encountered in the course of the story were in some way "controlled" by Sauron. He discarded that conception, as can be seen in the final text, but as Ithilethiel says, the wights were originally sent by the WK, so would be open to his commands.

As for the other "things of evil spirit", other than Old Man Willow, I don't know what they would be. Even he was familiar to Tom Bombadil, as was the malice of the Old Forest to the Bucklanders. Neither of these seem to be anything recent.

Also, there's this famous line, which has led to much speculation over the years:

'"Strider" I am to one fat man who lives within a day's March from foes that would freeze his heart,or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly'.

And just before this:

'But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us'.

Aside from the literary effect of this deliberate ambiguity, hinting at a far larger world outside the narrower focus of the story, it can certainly be said that it allows scope for videogame designers (not to mention fan-fic writers!).

SES to the rescue!

 

[Desert Loon]

Also, there's this famous line, which has led to much speculation over the years:

'"Strider" I am to one fat man who lives within a day's March from foes that would freeze his heart,or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly'.

And just before this:

'But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from sunless woods, they fly from us'.

Aside from the literary effect of this deliberate ambiguity, hinting at a far larger world outside the narrower focus of the story, it can certainly be said that it allows scope for videogame designers (not to mention fan-fic writers!).

I noticed in my last reading that this is mentioned again: in "Homeward Bound," page 336 of the old Ballantine edition, Butterbur is talking to Gandalf about how it's been since the Rangers left:

And there's dark shapes in the woods, dreadful things that it makes the blood run cold to think of.

 

[Alcuin]

Daerndir, the Barrow-wights are evil spirits sent by the Witch-king of Angmar to infest the barrow-downs, as you, Ithilethiel, and Squint-eyed Southerner have all pointed out.

I think these spirits are a some mix of weak but wicked Maiar (Umaiar, of whom the strongest was Sauron, then the Balrogs; but these are much weaker) and the fëar or spirits of wicked Elves.

Particularly in the First Age, there were indeed wicked Elves. Some were enslaved by Morgoth and fell into wickedness; some became wicked as time went on. (There is a thread on Eöl nearby, for instance: Eöl tried to kill his own son, Maeglin, as Denethor tried to kill his son Faramir.)

In Morgoth’s Ring, “Of Re-Birth and Other Dooms of Those that Go to Mandos”, Tolkien writes that

The fëa [i.e., soul, in this case of an Elf] … cannot be [forced to go] to Mandos. It is summoned; and the summons … may be refused. … [I]n the first years of the Elves, refusal of the summons to Mandos and the Halls of Waiting was, the Eldar say, frequent. … [W]hile Morgoth was in Arda, or … Sauron after him; … the unbodied fëa would flee in terror of the Shadow to any refuge – unless it were already committed to the Darkness and passed then into its dominion. In like manner even of the Eldar some who had become corrupted refused the summons, and then had little power to resist the counter-summons of Morgoth.

…[M]ore and more of the Elves … who linger in Middle-earth now refuse the summons of Mandos, and wander houseless in the world, unwilling to leave it and unable to inhabit it… Not all of these are kindly or unstained by the Shadow. Indeed the refusal of the summons is in itself a sign of taint.

It is therefore a foolish and perilous thing, besides being a wrong deed forbidden justly by the appointed Rulers of Arda, if the Living seek to commune with the Unbodied, though the houseless may desire it, especially the most unworthy among them. … Some were enslaved by the Dark Lord and do his work still, though he himself is gone. They will not speak truth or wisdom. To call on them is folly. To attempt to master them and to make them servants of one’s own will is wickedness. Such practices are of Morgoth; and the necromancers are of the host of Sauron his servant.

…The wicked among them will take bodies… The peril of communing with them is, therefore, not only the peril of being deluded… For one of the hungry Houseless … may seek to eject the fëa [of a Man] from its body; and in the contest for mastery the body may be gravely injured, even if it he not wrested from its rightful habitant. Or the Houseless may plead for shelter, and if it is admitted, then it will seek to enslave its host and use both his will and his body for its own purposes. It is said that Sauron did these things, and taught his followers how to achieve them.

Presumably this passage was written in the Fourth Age, for Sauron is no longer a threat to the Houseless (or Unbodied) Elves who have died; but note that in “The Window on the West”, Faramir says that, “I deem it perilous now for mortal man to willfully seek out the Elder People.”

The passage indicates that:

1. There were at first a lot of Elves who refused the summons of Mandos when they died. The spirits or fëar of these Elves went willingly or unwillingly to Morgoth.
2. There were some wicked Elves who willingly went into the Darkness.
3. The more wicked of the Unbodied or Houseless Elves had the power to possess the body (hröa, though that word is not used here) of a Man.
4. Forcing the spirits of these evil Elves to do your will is necromancy (literally “black magic”; the Sindarin word Tolkien uses is Morgul), the expertise of Sauron the Necromancer, who taught this to his followers.

The Witch-king was definitely one of Sauron’s followers. He did indeed summon these evil spirits into the bodies in the barrows.

But why? Well, if you look in Appendix A in Return of the King, you’ll find that in 1409 of the Third Age, the Witch-king led the army of Angmar and his Hillmen allies who had taken over Rhudaur in an attack against Cardolan and Arthedain. They burned and destroyed Amon Sûl, Weathertop, in an attempt to take its palantír, the chief and most powerful palantír in Middle-earth. The Witch-king failed to take the palantír. Then it says, “A remnant of the faithful among the Dúnedain of Cardolan also held out in Tyrn Gorthad (the Barrowdowns), or took refuge in the [Old] Forest behind.” The last Prince of Cardolan was killed, along with his family it seems, and they were buried among the barrows: in fact, this was the very barrow in which Frodo and his friends were held captive.

The barrows are made of stone and quite sturdy. They served the Dúnedain as little fortresses atop the downs, and so were more easily defended that the surrounding territory. That was a problem for Angmar and helped break up and slow down the invasion, giving Círdan and Elrond time to launch counter-attacks.

So to prevent this from happening again, the Witch-king infested the barrows with “evil spirits”. Appendix A says,

In the days of Argeleb II the plague [that had afflicted Gondor and killed King Telemnar and his children] came into Eriador …, and most of the people of Cardolan perished. ... It was at this time that an end came of the Dúnedain of Cardolan, and evil spirits out of Angmar and Rhudaur entered into the deserted mounds and dwelt there.

This was 129 years after the first by Angmar upon the Northern Dúnedain, in 1636.

Presumably there was more skirmishing and border warfare, but in the winter of 1974, the Witch-king attacked again. This time there were fewer Dúnedain to oppose him, and they could no longer use the barrows as a defensive barrier to slow his forces or break up his attack. Elrond and Círdan again launched counter-attacks, this time with the assistance of an expeditionary force from Gondor, but it was too late: the northern kingdom was lost, and the Dúnedain too few to reconstitute it.

Infesting the barrow-downs had another effect, too: It demoralized the Dúnedain. Appendix A says that

[T]he mounds of Tyrn Gorthad, … the Barrowdowns …, are very ancient, and … were built in the … First Age by the forefathers of the Edain, before they crossed the Blue Mountains into Beleriand… Those hills were therefore revered by the Dúnedain after their return; and there many of their lords and Kings were buried.

By the way, since the last Prince of Cardolan was killed in the war of 1409 and himself buried in the Barrow-downs, the Kings of Arthedain once more became the rulers of Cardolan; but even before that, Cardolan had allied with Arthedain against Angmar and its usurpers in Rhudaur.

One last point: Look again at the sentence, “A remnant of the faithful among the Dúnedain of Cardolan also held out in Tyrn Gorthad”. Do you remember in “The Window on the West” that Faramir says, “It is not said that evil arts were ever practiced in Gondor, or that [Sauron] was ever named in honour there;” indicating that Sauron was “named in honour” among some of the other Númenóreans in Middle-earth. And in fact, in the paragraph just preceding that, he said, “The Men of Númenor were settled far and wide [in Middle-earth], but … the most part … fell into evil… Many became enamored of the … black arts; … some fought among themselves, until they were conquered in their weakness by the wild men.”

This last phrase, “some fought among themselves, until they were conquered in their weakness by the wild men,” is exactly what happened in Arnor, where Rhudaur was “conquered in [its] weakness by wild men.” These Hillmen were allies of Angmar, and they did worship Sauron, or held some religious affiliation with him: certainly their allies in Angmar did!

No doubt Faramir is describing the moral and spiritual rot that afflicted and overthrew Númenor in the second half of the Second Age, but he may also be describing the situation in Arnor. Otherwise, Tolkien would not say, “a remnant of the faithful among the Dúnedain of Cardolan”, but rather, “a remnant of the survivors among the Dúnedain of Cardolan”.

Based on this, it’s my opinion concerning the ruin and loss of Arnor that some of the Dúnedain of Arnor, particularly in Rhudaur but also in Cardolan, turned to Darkness, and Arthedain was unable to stand alone; but the barrows were unquestionably as you say, Daerndir,

a … deserted place where evil spirits dwell inside … barrows originally sent there by the Witch King to prevent the area from being repopulated and keeping the kingdom of Cardolan from restoring

I don’t know that the Barrow-wights are mobile: they seem fixed to the barrows: Bombadil scatters the treasure, the gold, to break the spell that binds them to the barrow he breaks into in order to free Frodo; but there were surely other things, too: the Rangers kept wargs out of Eriador, and they hunted down and killed trolls and orcs that invaded.

But there is no reference that I recall to any other evil spirits other than those inhabiting the barrows as barrow-wights, and these were “a day’s march” from Bree.

 

[Squint-eyed Southerner]

Thank you, Alcuin, for going to the effort of searching out and pulling together those references, and then presenting them in a clear manner.

That first quotation from Morgoth's Ring is particularly striking; I had forgotten it, or possibly never read it. As I'm not near my library, do you know if CT was able to date it? I ask because it seems to reflect what Tolkien's reaction would have been to the popularity of seances and spirit boards during the years he was developing his mythology (and which would, of course, also be consistent with that of the Catholic Church).

The growth of Spiritualism and attempts to contact the dead really took off in the United States after the Civil War, when millions of people lost family members; though I haven't looked into it deeply, I'm guessing that something similar happened in Europe after the carnage of the Great War.

However that may be, in literary terms, it illuminates the way Tolkien dealt with the difficult problems associated with an important element of the quest romance, the katabasis episode, the "going down below" in order to gain insight into the future of the quest.

It appears in all literary modes, of course, even "realistic" fiction; in Modernism, it generally became purely psychological, and in ironic modes, may be represented by something as prosaic as falling down a manhole (or off a ladder!); but the closer the mode is to myth, as romance is, the closer it comes to its original meaning: a journey to the Underworld to speak to the dead, as happens, for instance, in the Aeneid, or in the Odyssey, where it is, strictly speaking, a nekyia, the ritual of raising the dead, in order to question them about the future; but the two meanings were already becoming conflated in antiquity.

This kind of thing would be abhorrent to Tolkien; yet the katabasis is so central a part of quest literature that he could not simply ignore it. His solution was to separate the two aspects: on the one hand, he "sanctified" the katabasis, associating it, not only with the spiritually "highest" Elf, Galadriel, but also with one who had indeed "passed on", but rather than dying, had been elevated -- Earendil. In fact, the Mirror episode contains a cluster of such "holy" associations, the water reminding us of Ulmo, the stars of Elbereth.

Later, we are shown the necromantic, nekyia side of katabasis, in the Dead Marshes, which becomes the demonic parody of the Mirror of Galadriel. There, we see the face of the dead:

'I saw them: grim faces and evil, and noble faces and sad. Many faces proud and fair, and weeds in their silver hair. But all foul, all rotting, all dead.'

There is a famous piece of ambiguity here: these people really died in this place, but as Sam objects:

'But that is an age and more ago,' said Sam. 'The Dead can't really be there! Is it some devilry hatched in the Dark Land?'

And receives an ambiguous answer:

'Who knows? Smeagol doesn't know,' answered Gollum. 'You cannot reach them, you cannot touch them. We tried once, yes, precious. I tried once; but you cannot reach them. Only shapes to see, perhaps, not to touch. No precious! All dead.'

Whether the dead are "really there" or not, the implication is clear: no wisdom or foresight is to be gained from them; attempting to do so is not only useless, but dangerous and evil. It is not for nothing that Sauron is called "The Necromancer" in the Hobbit. Thus Tolkien was able to divorce the two aspects, consigning the "dealings with the dead" to the demonic side, while retaining the katabasis element of the story.

And yet. . .there is a note of danger sounded even in the sanctified space of Galadriel's garden: "Do not touch the water!" she warns, twice. A comment on another forum reminded me of the close parallel with the episode in the Marshes, but here, there is no Galadriel to warn them:

Suddenly he stumbled against Frodo, who was standing lost in thought, looking at the pale lights. His hands hung stiff at his sides; water and slime were dripping from them.

The use of water imagery in both episodes, and the danger of touching it, seems to me to convey the message that, however important katabasis may be in the quest, entering into it is perilous.

My apologies if I seem to have strayed too far off topic, but I feel that the themes you raised about the dead do provide insight into Tolkien's use of them in the context I discussed here.

 

[Alcuin]

I believe this comes from Manuscript A of “Laws and Customs of the Eldar”. Manuscript B is a typescript that “follows ... manuscript A pretty closely for the most part,” except for some “points in which B differs significantly … [I]important divergences in B [are explained] in textual notes”. I found no dating for the text, but a Google search turned up a thread here on TTF in which our own Galin cites a date of “late 1950s”.

BTW, an important example of katabasis for Tolkien (and Lewis) is the “Harrowing of Hell”, an ancient, accepted, and orthodox belief in Christianity, though perhaps many Christians are today unaware of it. See the Catechism of the Catholic Church, ¶¶ 631-637. Other close analogies in LotR beside the Barrow-wight are the passages through Moria, Shelob’s Lair, and the Paths of the Dead; and possibly the captivity of Merry and Pippin, though they are not underground but rather seized by creatures so horrific they seem to the reader almost demonic in actions and appearance.

The Spiritualist Movement in the United States began before the Civil War: Longfellow was among the participants. (I lived in Salem almost half my life so far.) The movement began with a rejection of orthodox Christianity, an intellectually violent reaction to Puritanism following the American Revolution. After the Civil War it spread throughout the United States. Likewise, there was a strong spiritualist movement in Europe preceding the Great War: Madame Blovatsky and her followers the Theosophists, later including the notorious Aleister Crowley; in Germany the pre-war Thule Society, which after the Great War had a profound and decisive impact upon the Nazis; and in Russia spiritualism influenced such characters as Rasputin, and yet was permitted to continue to operate during the officially anti-religious, “scientific” Soviet era (see for instance S. Kernbach, “Unconventional research in USSR and Russia…”). And even before the American Revolution, the Hellfire Club in England included Benjamin Franklin when he was the Pennsylvania Colonial Representative; and there were other cases in central Europe, such as Countess Báthory of Hungary a century and a half before that.

 

[Squint-eyed Southerner]

Thanks again for looking up the HoME reference; I'll be reading that when I get home.

I was aware of the earlier beginnings of the Spiritualist movement, going back to the 18th century; but it did certainly become more popular following the Civil War -- understandably.

I should have said that I was using katabasis in a narrower sense than it is generally defined; in the sense used by Northrop Frye, in fact, though as I'm not near my library, I can't provide quotes at the moment. The examples you cite do come under the more general theme of what the Encyclopedia of Fantasy calls the "Night Journey". It's interesting that, similarly to the captivity of Merry and Pippin you mentioned, the article gives Frodo and Sam's experience in the Dead Marshes as an example of a Night Journey taking place partly in broad daylight. In fact, it could be argued that the entire journey, after the Day of Breaking, from the Emyn Muil to Mount Doom constitutes an NJ.

And I'd agree that Harrowing of Hell imagery appears in the episodes you cite (along with other themes). To me, though, the clearest example of this comes from the Eagle's proclamation:

Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Tower of Guard,
for your watch hath not been in vain,
and the Black Gate is broken,
and your King hath passed through,
and he is victorious.

Beyond the obvious Biblical language, often commented upon, the whole of the proclamation is filled with Biblical imagery. I underlined one phrase emphasizing the Harrowing of Hell aspect: we are later told of the King that "the slaves of Mordor he released". In "passing through" the Black Gate, he would have entered between the Towers of the Teeth, symbolically going down into the belly of Leviathan to free the imprisoned souls, an image that has appeared in Christian iconography for centuries.

This image of teeth appears repeatedly in Tolkien; its significance is worth exploring, but that would probably best be done in a separate thread.

I have to say I "hate" your posts, Alcuin -- they always force me to think!

 

[Alcuin]

This image of teeth appears repeatedly in Tolkien; its significance is worth exploring, but that would probably best be done in a separate thread.

I am rereading Lord of the Rings – Éowyn still kills the Witch-king every time! – and one of the things that struck me as I passed was the description of Minas Morgul: “its cavernous gate, shaped like an open mouth with gleaming teeth, was gaping wide.” I am reminded of, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” And but for Bombadil and the summoning spell he taught the hobbits in his house the night before, so also the barrow of the Barrow-wight.

I have to say I "hate" your posts, Alcuin -- they always force me to think!

Thank you. I am deeply honored: I look forward to yours, too! And to many others who post here, too: TTF is a wonderful place to gather and discuss Tolkien.

 

[Miguel]

 

[Squint-eyed Southerner]

TTF is a wonderful place to gather and discuss Tolkien.

Definitely-- that's why I'm here!

Once you start looking for them, those teeth are all over the place, associated with the imagery you noted.

I'll try to get to it when I get home, in a week or so -- it involves some use of other material. But since this thread is about the Barrow-Wights, I'll point to one example from that episode:

But even as he spoke he turned his glance eastwards, and he saw that on that side the hills were higher and looked down upon them; and all those were crowned with green mounds, and on some were standing stones, pointing upwards like jagged teeth out of green gums.

Lest that be seen as a mere by-the-way image, contrast it with the description of the stones on Weathertop, as astutely noted in GentleDrift's comment 2 at the bottom of this page:

http://thetolkien.forum/index.php?threads/a-favorite-passage.23567/

I think it's clear that in both cases, the imagery was carefully chosen.