AUTHOR'S NOTES -
CHAPTER 17: HOPE
He lifted a bottle of beer down and removed the stopper. Tilting it gently, he brought the pint pot up to the neck of the bottle, careful not to disturb the sediment. The trick was to pour in one go, yet not tip the bottle too far. The beer had to flow smoothly, with no glugs of air to stir up the yeast and cloud the dark amber liquid.
My grandfather was very fond of bottle-brewed beer. He made sure I knew how to pour it for him.
The small joint was ideal for three hobbits, but a little small for four, and Rosie had compensated by cooking batter puddings and plenty of vegetables. Sam piled his plate high and poured thick gravy over all; he was hungry.
By batter pudding I am referring to Yorkshire puddings. In days of poverty and
large families, these were served with gravy before the roast meat. The idea
was to fill people up before they got to the expensive meat course, thereby
eking out the small, expensive joint. It needs no author's note for anyone in
the UK, where it is now traditionally eaten with roast beef. The mixture is
similar to pancakes, the same actually, just slightly thicker batter. Fat is heated
in a roasting tray or individual cake tins, and then the batter poured in and
cooked at a high temperature in the oven. The result is a puffed up, golden
batter pudding, crispy on the outside and soft and airy on the inside. Some
people like their gravy poured over the top, and some people don't. Since the
meal would also included potatoes roasted in fat (roasties) it is a calorific
nightmare, but delicious.
For 4 people: 3oz plain flour, 1 egg, 3 fl.oz milk, 2 fl.oz water, salt and fresh-milled pepper. 2 tablespoons beef dripping (I use cooking oil if there isn’t enough dripping).
To make the batter, sift the flour into a bowl, make a well in the centre, break an egg into it and beat it, gradually incorporating the flour, milk, water and seasoning. Use an oblong tin 11 x 7 inches, or individual tins, and add the dripping to the tin. Heat the fat at 425oF/ 220oC/Gas mark 7 for about 15 minutes until sizzling hot, then pour in the batter (if using individual tins, half fill each one). Return the tin to the top shelf of the oven and cook at 425oF/ 220oC/Gas mark 7 for 25 - 30 minutes. The pudding will rise and become crisp and golden. It is important to serve a Yorkshire pudding as soon as possible, as it loses its crunchiness if it has to wait around too long.
His weskit was hanging open anyway; gentle hands ran over his shoulders, and he felt the rough material dropping from his wrists... As Frodo moved against Sam’s naked body, the material of his waistcoat rubbed Sam’s nipples, and corduroy breeches gave friction where it was most appreciated.
I always twitch when Frodo or Bilbo, or other well-to-do hobbits, wear weskits in fanfiction. I may be wrong, but this is how I see it: “Weskit” is a dialect word for waistcoat, and as such would be used by the lower classes, it would therefore also tend to denote a much more workaday item of clothing. So, Sam in the film has a very homely version of a waistcoat... a weskit, no less.
Frodo, Bilbo, Merry and Pippin would call their garments waistcoats, and they would be well-tailored.
The Fellowship of the Ring, A Long-expected Party: [Bilbo] “took off his party clothes, folded up and wrapped in tissue paper his embroidered silk waistcoat, and put it away.”
Even when making a present of one to the Gaffer, it is still referred to as a waistcoat. The Fellowship of the Ring, A Long-expected Party: “The poorer hobbits, and especially those of Bagshot Row, did very well. Old Gaffer Gamgee got two sacks of potatoes, a new spade, a woollen waistcoat, and a bottle of ointment for creaking joints.”
The only mention (as far as I am aware) of “weskit” in Lord of the Rings, is when it is used by the Gaffer. The Return of the King, The Scouring of the Shire: “‘It takes a lot o’ believing,’ said the gaffer, ‘though I can see he’s been mixing in strange company. What’s come of his weskit? I don’t hold with wearing ironmongery, whether it wears well or no.’”
So, Sam wears a weskit, but Frodo wears a waistcoat.
It was another beautiful day, and the sun was still high in the sky. It was less than two weeks until the longest day of the year, but it was more usual for Forelithe to be relatively cool and wet. A transition to summer, startling in its suddenness, didn’t usually occur until the last week of the month. This year, however, it was as though summer had started as early as Astron, with wonderful sunshine and delicious rain in due times (mostly at night) and in perfect measure. To Sam it seemed as though there was something more, a richness of growth and a gleam of beauty beyond anything he had ever known.
The Return of the King, The Grey Havens: “Altogether 1420 in the Shire was a marvellous year. Not only was there wonderful sunshine and delicious rain, in due times and perfect measure, but there was something more: an air of richness and growth, and a gleam of beauty beyond that of mortal summers that flicker and pass upon this Middle-earth.”
Sam’s replacement planting had taken account of this frequently-used private exit route from the Bag End garden, and he had introduced a gate. Since livestock frequently grazed the meadows beyond, he had made it a kissing-gate through which only one hobbit could pass at a time. There was no chance of their being seen here, and their elven cloaks gave added protection. Sam slipped round the end of the gate first, pushing it back towards Frodo to allow himself room. They leaned together over the top bar and showed the sheep why it was called a kissing-gate.
An example of a kissing gate.
The plank bridge over the Water was little used, and Sam checked it for stability and wedged it more firmly into the bank before they crossed... The light was failing more quickly here, shut out by the alders lining the bank. They pushed through the cone-laden branches which were overgrowing the path, and the evening lightened again as they emerged into more fields.
Alders are broad-leafed, deciduous trees, but bear small cones. They will grow in boggy conditions. The Fellowship of the Ring, Three is Company: “After some time they crossed the Water, west of Hobbiton, by a narrow plank bridge. The stream was there no more than a winding black ribbon, bordered with leaning alder trees.”
The kewick of a hunting tawny owl was so close they jumped. As they looked at each other sheepishly, they heard another tawny give a soft triple call: hoooo-hoo-hoooo, away to the east.
Shakespeare may have written divine poetry and prose, but he was just showing his ignorance of owls when he gave us Twit Twoo as the call. The “twit” sound is much better described as “kewick” and the owl calling “kewick” does not follow it with the soft hoot. It is rare for there to be one isolated “hoooo.” More commonly there will be a double or triple call.
‘As I understand it, it’s all to do with Tom Cotton’s grandfather, as married my great, great aunt Rose,’ said Sam, as happy as any hobbit to explain the niceties of a family tree. ‘Half Took, he was, being the love-child of one o’ Gerontius’ younger brothers. I can’t remember which one now, but the grazing rights were part of the settlement.’
The Return of the King, Appendix C. If you look at the Longfather Tree of Master Samwise, you will find Tom Cotton’s Grandfather Cotman did indeed marry Sam’s great, great aunt Rose. There is nothing to indicate that Took blood flowed in the Cotton’s veins, but they were very prominent in the Battle of Bywater (The Return of the King, The Scouring of the Shire: “...it has a chapter to itself in the Red Book, and the names of all those who took part were made into a Roll, and learned by heart by Shire-historians. The very considerable rise in the fame and fortune of the Cottons dates from this time...”), so they may have had some more adventurous hobbit blood in their veins.
They bent south-eastwards until they climbed the first slopes of the Green Hills, and then turned eastwards along the ridge. They had been walking with no contact between themselves, although there were none to see them; this was no stroll, and holding hands would have encumbered the easy roll and swing of the long-distance walker. Now they stopped to draw breath and look back to the lights of Hobbiton and Bywater, twinkling in the valley. Standing behind Frodo, Sam took him in his arms, and Frodo leant back into the embrace.
‘I thought I’d never see this sight again,’ said Frodo quietly. ‘I love this view at night; it’s very comforting to think of all those hobbits safe in their homes.’
The Fellowship of the Ring, Three is Company: “... they were now in the Tookland and bending south-eastwards they made for the Green Hill Country. As they began to climb its first slopes they looked back and saw the lamps of Hobbiton far off twinkling in the gentle valley of the Water... Frodo turned and waved a hand in farewell. ‘I wonder if I shall ever look down into that valley again,’ he said quietly.”
‘There’s Eärendil,’ said Sam, ‘the evening star. I never told you how I looked on him in the shadow-lands of Mordor and took hope. It wasn’t hope for us, mind, but it came to me that even if we failed utterly, and all came to ruin, there was still high beauty forever beyond the reach of Sauron.’ He sighed. ‘Sounds silly, don’t it?’
One of my favourite passages in Lord of the Rings. The Return of the King, The Land of Shadow: “There peeping among the cloud wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, cold and clear, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.”
Eärendil is Venus.