Primary Sources

From the front of the room to the back the whispers rippled out.

“Who spoke?”

“What’s happened?”

“It’s a ghost!”

“A ghost!”

“Bah! There’s no such a thing.”

“It’s a ghost!”

Then the room went silent again.

“W-what k-kind . . .” Longo Caskbury stopped to swallow. “What sort of trickery is this, Jebbin Brandybuck?”

“No trickery,” answered the Ghost. “Come. Examine me in whatever way will satisfy you, sir.”

Longo approached. He could feel a chill in the air surrounding the being, and he could see through it to an even greater degree as he drew nearer. Quicker than his eyes could see the being grabbed his left wrist with its right hand. He heard words in his head:

“Do you feel the touch of the grave upon you?”

The voice was pleasant, when by rights, saying such a thing, it should have given Longo the shivers. The translucent face before him wore a smile and it’s blue eyes were oddly bright with a hint of mischief. Longo looked at the hand, it’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. There were only three fingers.

“Does that stir a memory in your mind?” the Ghost said aloud this time. Longo looked up and the ghostly hobbit winked at him.

Longo shook his wrist free then started backing away. “You’re . . . you’re, th-the Baggins!”

Frodo smiled. “I am indeed. Frodo Baggins to be more precise. Now, Mr., eh, Caskbury was it?” Longo nodded. “Good! As I was saying, Mr. Caskbury, most of the books you insist need to be examined are no longer available as you ordered them burned. In fact, you yourself threw many of them into the flames. I think many of the hobbits here remember this event?” The Ghost looked around at the crowd.

Though they were more than a little frightened, many of the hobbits nodded or murmured a “yes” in answer to the question.

“I know I remember it all too well.” There was a touch of acid in Frodo’s voice, but Longo seemed not to hear it.

“Well, then.” Longo was regaining himself. “It’s a moot point. If the books in question are no longer to be had, then there is nothing upon which the accused can substantiate his claims.”

Once more, the crowd murmured. The Master’s secretary was making sense.

“Oh really!” someone said frustratedly.

Three more spirits faded into view upon the dais, one still talking.

“This is a rather pathetic bit of begging the question, isn’t it?” ***

This time the accused on the platform were nearly as surprised as the onlookers. The hobbit who spoke was clad in the livery of the High King. Beside him another ghost was clad in livery of the realm of Rohan. On the other side of Frodo Baggins stood a spirit in the garb of a gentlehobbit. Neither Jebbin, Other, Marjoram, Athelas nor Mac had seen the Ghosts in their finery. The ghost of Meriadoc turned and gave them all a wink. Pippin continued happily on.

“You say you need to view the sources for Jebbin to support his claims, but you can’t view the books you say you need to view bacause they were burned. You happen to be the one who ordered it and now you’re saying they should be available! There’s logic for you.”

“You are starting to not look so well, Mr. Caskbury.” Meriadoc said. “Things not going quite as you planned?”

“Of course they aren’t, Merry,” Sam said, chuckling. “He’s backed himself into a proper corner, he has, and ways out are lookin’ scarce.”

The hobbits near the front of the room were astonished. Could there be any doubt that the four ghosts on the platform were the Travellers themselves?

“You burned the Red Book of Westmarch, Mr. Caskbury. Were you aware of that?” Frodo asked.

“Another copy of a copy of a copy. Worthless! So full of errors that burning was all it was fit for. As are all the copies of that book.” Longo still had better use of his voice and demeanor than the Travellers, the accused or their supporters had suspected.

“True! That’s what has always been said,” came a voice from the crowd, followed by many voices in agreement.

“No,” Frodo said. His words grew hotter as he continued. “No. You burned the original Red Book of Westmarch. The book Bilbo Baggins began in his own hand. The story I continued in my own hand, and that Sam here finished in his. The book . . .”

Frodo turned to look at the crowd.

“Who amoung you are descendants of Mayor Samwise Gamgee? Who here are Gamgees or Gardeners or Fairbairns?”

As one would expect, knowing how many children the good Mayor had fathered, many hands were raised.

“You all bear a bit of the blame,” Frodo continued. The raised hands slowly lowered. “You were to treasure that book, especially those of you descended from Elanor, who was called “The Fair”, as her father gave it to her and her descendants for safe keeping.”

The feeling in the room grew heavy. A shame deeper than any of Sam’s heirs ever expected to feel settled upon their hearts. It was painfully obvious to everyone in the ballroom that the spirits of the Travellers were there in support of the accused traitors. Frodo continued, his voice soft and sad.

“But, it isn’t entirely your fault. Familiarity and forgetfulness are common to all. And there were other forces at work besides those. There were hobbits who wanted the importance of the Red Book to be forgotten.”

Merry and Pippin stepped down from the dais. Pippin loomed over the seated Rollo Caskbury, Merry went to stand in front of Longo Caskbury. Both father and son could feel the dead chill of them even as they felt the heat from their furious eyes.

“And who might that be?” the ghost of Meriadoc the Magnificent asked Longo.

Longo didn’t answer.

Athelas did. The voice had spoken to her.

“The Caskburys! I have the proof!” Athelas said clearly. She and Marjy stood.

Athelas turned away a moment, then turning back, waved in the air the hidden pages from Jebiamac’s journal which she had tucked into her bodice.

“And I have further evidence,” Marjy cried. “Not all of Jebbin’s sources were destroyed!” She reached under the waistband of her skirt to produce the two journals.

Chalcedony Brandybuck stood. “Add to your accusations the name of Grittison, Sir Meriadoc. If Tollo Grittison, secretary to my brother who is Took and Thain, had not become indisposed while I was at Great Smials, I would have brought him along with me. Brandy Hall isn’t the only place infested with coniving spiders.”

Athelas walked over to the desk and handed the papers to the Master. “Sir. Here you will find an account written by Jebiamac Brandybuck, who has been mentioned before during this trial. He withdrew himself from the everyday life of the Hall because the knowledge he had was a danger to himself and all those he loved. He chose to have his line become a lesser branch on the family tree in order to protect them. He wrote it all down, hid it in the cover of his journal, then hid the journal itself, hoping that someday the time would be right for the truth to be heard.” She returned to the platform to stand beside Jebbin.

Macimas looked at the pages.

“I will ask for quiet as I read these,” he said, than began to read. He hadn’t read very far when he stopped. He stood and went up on the dais. “I would have all of you stand,” he said to Other and Macidoc, who did as they were bid and came forward to be with Jebbin and the lasses. “I think this needs to be read aloud,” the Master said.

He cleared his throat and began.

“I am taking a great risk in writing this down. As far as I am aware, they do not know that I have found them out.

I had begun my recording of the accurate account of the times of the Travellers, those great heroes of Shire history. To me they are all the greater when stripped of the nonsense that has arisen of late and which is swiftly becoming accepted as their true story.

As that accounting drew to an end (I did write out the facts in full), I found myself wondering where and when had all the foolishness started? Stories will change as time passes, parts are added to, parts are forgotten. But what was happening with the tale of my ancestor and the others was happening too quickly, as though there was some will behind the changes and their acceptence. The changes were even appearing in books, which should be even slower to occur than changes to the story as it is told orally.

I soon realized that the rot had started here, in Brandy Hall. That it had simultaneously arrisen in the Shire proper. Most strongly in the Tookland, at the Great Smials, and also to a lesser degree in Michael Delving where the Mayor of the Shire lives. I also ascertained that its seeds have begun to be sown in the west, in the Westmarch and even to Undertowers.

I now knew the where. I needed to find out the who and the why of it.

Here is where the ice I walk upon grows thin.

I was playing at a game of anagrams with a cousin in the gameroom of Brandy Hall. An innocent game. Something to take my mind off of the worries that had come to occupy most of my thoughts. My cousin put down the word “sack”.

I changed “sack” to “cask”. An easy change, but one with terrifying results for suddenly I knew the who of my search. A quiet trip to Hobbiton, and eventually to the Town Hall in Overhill, was all that was needed for me to begin piecing together the why.

I had wondered before at the name of my father’s secretary. Caskbury. It wasn’t, I was relatively certain, an old, established, hobbit surname.

Indeed . . . it was not.

In Solmath, in S.R. 1420 there were born to one Daisy Sandyman twin boys, who she named Lotho and Ted. Daisy and her sons seemed to disappear after the lads were born. It has taken a great deal of time, as I had to be extrememly cautious, but I have managed to put together most of what happened.

Daisy had been the youngest sister of Ted Sandyman, the son of the miller in Hobbiton. Her brother had chosen to align himself with Lotho Sackville-Baggins during Lotho’s ruling over the Shire. From the names Daisy chose for her sons, I concluded that Lotho Sackville-Baggins was father to her children. Whether he took her by force or she was compliant there is no way to know. That there was no marriage is clear as there is no record of one, and she still used her family’s surname. There were Sandyman kin living in Overhill and the poor lass had gone to stay with them, most likely to hide her pregnancy from those she knew in Hobiton. The lads were raised by their mother in a small hole about halfway between Overhill and the Bindbale Wood. Whether their mother died or the boys simply left her I could not discover as there was no record of her death or burial to be found. What I did find was in the year 1436 two boys named Lotho and Ted Sandyman apprenticed themselves to a bookbinder in Oatbarton. The name Lotho might have been suspect in that part of the Shire, but most likely not the name of Sandyman as Ted Sandyman was a nuisance in Hobbiton but not elswhere. In the year 1449, when the lads would have been twenty-nine years of age, there are records in Oatbarton of a Lotho Caskbury wedding Nightengale Brandybuck, and of a Ted Grittison wedding Cairngorm Took.

My game of anagrams had brought me to this sad story of a lass, most likely ill used, and her sons. It also explained how the rot had come to the Hall and the Smials.

“Cask” is an anagram of “sack”. “Bury” indicates a town or village. There is no town of “Caskbury” in the Shire, the Westmarch, Buckland or any of their environs. “Caskbury” was “Sackville”. Lotho had taken his father’s name.

“Grit” is another name for “sand”. “Son” on the end of a name of course means whoever’s son. “Grittison” was “Sandyman”. Ted kept his mother’s, and his odious uncle’s, name.

The son of Lotho Caskbury, Toldo, became the secretary of Periadoc “the Cheerful”, the Master of Buckland and my father. The son of Ted Grittison became the secretary to Borogrin Took, Took and Thain of the Shire.

I have noticed, regarding my father, that his secretary seemed to know a great deal of what are considered sensitive matters in Buckland. My older brother, Saradoc, already seems very close with Toldo’s son Pronto Caskbury. I fear things are the same in the Tookland. These secretaries have a great deal of access to everything that is said and done in Brandy Hall and Great Smials, and other of Lotho’s and Ted’s sons have taken positions as secretaries to important hobbits in other parts of the Shire. There is some evidence of an ill fate befalling a few hobbits who have tried to speak out against either family.

It has been since their becoming important parts of these houses, and other major Shire families, that the changes in the perceptions of the Travellers began. Lotho Sackville-Baggins was ever the enemy of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. Ted Sandyman hated the Baggins’ and Gamgees. By association, they both hated the Baggins’ kin and friends, who included Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. What better way for Lotho’s sons to gain revenge than by erroding the honor given to the Ringbearers (though not enough honor has ever been given to Frodo Baggins by any but the Brandybucks, Tooks and the Gamgees, Gardeners and Fairbairns). While truly, due to their twisting of the tale, my own ancestor and his first cousin are becoming parodies of the honorable hobbits they were.

I am hiding these pages in the cover of my journal. I am hiding the journal in the pocket of an old jacket, placed in an old trunk that is in a mathom room in a part of Brandy Hall that has been closed down for fear of collapsing tunnels.

May all that is good in Middle-earth, may my famous ancestor, may the Valar and Eru, forgive me my cowardice. Yet, I feel most strongly that now is not the time for this to be known. I have a strange confidence that someday a time will come when the truth can be heard and my journal will be found.

I pray this is so.

Jebiamac Brandybuck”

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***A/N: “begging the question” is the older way of saying “circular reasoning”.

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A/N 2: The idea of the anagram - changing “sack” to “cask” was Dreamflower’s, and I am extremely greatfull! I had come up with a different name, one *I* wasn’t even happy with, and she solved the problem with this wonderful idea. I never would have thought of it. Thank you so much, Dreamflower!

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A/N 3: In her review of Chapter 8 of this story, Larner asked, regarding the secretaries:

“Are they descended from Ted Sandyman or Lotho's folks or something?”

*I* looked like a fish out of water! I thought, “Oh no! Is it that obvious?” I really was hoping for it to be a surprise.

As you all now know, she had it right on both counts. That had been my plan long before chapter 8. Larner, you get a prize for correctly guessing the lineage of Longo Caskbury and Tollo Grittison. If there is a plot bunny you would like me to write, let me know :-)

Oh my! I just read Larner’s response to Chapter 16 - and she also guessed right that it’s Frodo who showed up first at the trial. Larner, do you have the Took Faerie Blood? Are you an Elf? I think you’ve been reading ahead by looking into my thoughts! LOL! Now you really need to find a plot bunny for me to write ;-)