# Crafting of the Knives from the Barrow Downs



## Valandil (Dec 29, 2018)

I've become interested in the making of weapons that could do harm to the Witch-King - like the four daggers (used by them as short swords) with which the Hobbits were armed by Tom Bombadil. How were the Dunedain able to make them? Was it done solely by someone from Cardolan, or was there collaboration with Arthedain? Or with Dwarves, or Elves? Or were they even made in Second Age Numenor? Were there others - full-size swords or axes? Or maybe it was most efficient to make more of the small weapons, with several key leaders to be armed with one, in case they had the opportunity for a killing stab or stroke. Somehow the nature of the Witch-King was likely known by the makers - in order to devise an effective weapon against him. I've always wondered if mithril was somehow involved (even in trace amounts) - obtained from Khazad-Dum.

We're told in the appendices that this barrow was likely the stronghold of the last Prince of Cardolan, who fell there in the attack by Angmar and Rhudaur in 1409 of the Third Age. I suppose those daggers were there at that time, rather than brought there later.

I don't think JRRT tells us very much more about them. So what do you suppose was their origin? What makes the most sense?

(if this looks familiar, it was initially in my response on another thread - but I thought it might make an interesting thread of its own)


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## Rebecca Fike (Jan 1, 2019)

This is a great initiative to start, well, I also like to build the same.
But generally in the shooter video game I always used to activate weapons for the players.


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## Deleted member 12094 (Jan 1, 2019)

I summarize herewith the references that I could find about your interesting question, Valandil. However, and to start with the conclusion first, you'll find no answers to your questions; you probably found all of this already yourself.

Anyway here is my overview; hopefully, others can help more than me.

Book 1 Ch 8

_For each of the hobbits he chose a dagger, long, leaf-shaped, and keen, of marvellous workmanship, damasked with serpent-forms in red and gold. They gleamed as he drew them from their black sheaths, wrought of some strange metal, light and strong, and set with many fiery stones. Whether by some virtue in these sheaths or because of the spell that lay on the mound, the blades seemed untouched by time, unrusted, sharp, glittering in the sun.

‘Old knives are long enough as swords for hobbit-people,’ he said. ‘Sharp blades are good to have, if Shire-folk go walking, east, south, or far away into dark and danger.’ Then he told them that these blades were forged many long years ago by Men of Westernesse: they were foes of the Dark Lord, but they were overcome by the evil king of Carn Dûm in the Land of Angmar._​
Book 3 Ch 1

_[Aragorn speaking] They were borne by the hobbits. Doubtless the Orcs despoiled them, but feared to keep the knives, knowing them for what they are: work of Westernesse, wound about with spells for the bane of Mordor._​
Book 5 Ch 6

_So passed the sword of the Barrow-downs, work of Westernesse. But glad would he have been to know its fate who wrought it slowly long ago in the North-kingdom when the Dúnedain were young, and chief among their foes was the dread realm of Angmar and its sorcerer king._​
HOME8 mentions an earlier version of the last sentence:

_Glad would he have been to know its fate who wrought it slowly long ago, for the sorcerer-king he knew and the dread realm of Angmar in the ancient North, hating all his deeds._​
LOTR Reader's Companion

_But above all the timid and terrified Bearer had resisted him [= the Witch-King on Weathertop], had dared to strike at him with an enchanted sword made by his own enemies long ago for his destruction. Narrowly it had missed him. How he had come by it – save in the Barrows of Cardolan._​


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## Squint-eyed Southerner (Jan 1, 2019)

I've been waiting for one of our more knowledgeable members, Galin or Alcuin, say, to provide answers (where _are _you guys?), but I guess I could take a preliminary,um,stab at it.

(EDIT: Or Meroe! He beat me to it, while I was meandering on -- as soon as I gave up waiting! My quotes are now redundant, but I'm going to leave the rest of my post as it is. I'm not going to delete all that work! )



Valandil said:


> Or were they even made in Second Age Numenor?



This seems unlikely, as "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields" has:



> So passed the sword of the Barrow-downs, work of Westernesse. But glad would he have been to know its fate who wrought it slowly long ago in the Norh-kingdom when the Dunedain were young, and chief among their foes was the dread realm of Angmar and its sorcerer king.



That would have to place its making some time after c. T.A. 1300.

As to materials, it's certainly conceivable that mithril might have played a part. The description in "Fog on the Barrow-downs" indicates some unusual elements:



> For each of the hobbits he chose a dagger, long, leaf-shaped, and keen, of marvelous workmanship, damasked with serpent-forms in red and gold. They gleamed as he drew them from their black sheaths, wrought of some strange metal, light and strong, and set with many fiery stones. Whether by some virtue in these sheaths or because of the spell that lay on the mound, the blades seemed untouched by time, unrusted, sharp, glittering in the sun.



We know that mithril remains "untarnished", though as so often, Tolkien is ambiguous about exactly which factor is at play here.

Not only was he ambiguous, but in this case, he appears to have been ambivalent; not being near my library, I'm a bit hampered in looking for sources, but one important aspect of the making and purpose of the blades is the "magical" element. Of course, we know he worked to rationalize the opposition between "good" and "evil" magic, for instance in "On Fairy Stories" and notably in Letter 155, reproduced here:

http://www.thetolkienforum.com/inde...ens-works-at-odds-with-mechanicalmagic.12958/

Not quoted in that thread (at least from a quick skim) is the quizzical note Tolkien added in the margin:



> But the Numenoreans used "spells" in the making of swords?



So it seems he never worked out exactly how the "spell" was contrived.

In any event, I take it the designs on the blades were not mere decoration, but were bound up with the spell. That leads me to believe the materials, whatever they were, used in the "damasking" were in some way also "magical". Mithril certainly gives the impression of a "magical" substance in the legendarium, as do gems and stones.

BTW, I'm taking the author's use of the word "damasked" to indicate _damascening,_ the addition of decoration to steel by etching or engraving, rather than the pattern created by the forging of Damascus steel, which is something else entirely.

Though not "entirely", perhaps: the wavy patterns produced _could _be described as "serpent-forms", and may have been so called in historic descriptions of which Tolkien was aware; even more aptly, the technique for making true Damascus steel was lost sometime in in the seventeenth century, and has never been recovered (despite modern attempts to reproduce it). This parallel with a "lost art" could well have contributed to his thinking on the subject.

It's interesting to note that an early draft has Denethor saying, when examining Pippin's sword: "This is a seax of my people". It may be that Tolkien decided to change this to "blade" so as not to confuse the differentiation of the men of Gondor/Numenor from the Anglo-Saxon-modeled Rohirrim, _seax_ being an Anglo-Saxon word, but more may have entered into it. The seax, though it really only meant "knife" to the Saxons, was of a distinct (though varied) shape: normally long, single-edged, with a drop point, as here:

As such, it was more a cutting/slashing weapon, than a stabbing/thrusting one. A blade carrying a spell would need to penetrate deeply into its target in order to fully deploy the power of the spell -- at least that is my impression. It would therefore need to be double-edged, like a dagger; hence the description of the Barrow-blades as "leaf-shaped".

Further, although the seax pictured above is "damasked" with a design, and I have no doubt that the actual ancient blades were sometimes imbued with "spells", the blade itself is asymmetrical. I'm presuming a bit here, but my feeling is that the spell-craft of the Numenoreans was highly "symmetrical", for rhetorical reasons, and would therefore require "symmetrical" carriers. I'll leave it there for now, but will try to get back later to add something more about that idea.

I hope this wasn't too far afield from what you were asking. Maybe someone better informed will come along!

(EDIT again: And someone did! )

Slight addendum: I tried to edit in a picture of Damascus steel, but for some reason, when I hit "More Options" all I get is "This page isn't working", so I'm entering it down here, as an illustration of the difference:


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## Valandil (Jan 1, 2019)

Thanks guys - yes, all I looked up was when Bombadil passed around the blades - wanted to confirm their initial description as knives/daggers rather than short swords - and sure enough, "daggers". I did think that they HAD been made in one of the Northern Kingdoms of the Dunedain, and after the rise of Angmar, but didn't know anymore if that was just my impression, or backed up by what I had read - and didn't do the exhaustive search (thanks to those who did!). So nothing suggests involvement by Dwarves or Elves (though I agree that mithril is a possible ingredient), and the text seems to rule out their being older than the strife with Angmar. I guess the bits we know ares quite intriguing - because:

A. We think of that time: 1300-1400 Third Age, as a period when the Dunedain have declined - and yet they made these weapons then, weapons which could kill the Witch-King.
B. The mention of their being bound with "spells" is puzzling - because we don't think of the Dunedain as using magic - except for when they turned to "the black arts". So... just what kind of magic did they use? And of course, JRRT takes a different view of magic than others, and than we take into this culturally... a much more "natural" kind of magic, per se, to simplify. But just what did they do? Were there "magicians" among them, other than the Istari? (and were these more commonly the men susceptible to being tempted away to use the black arts? Or is that yet another thread?) Another possible use of Dunedain magic is Isildur "cursing" the Men of the White Mountains, when they did not stay true to their Oath... which may be viewed as the Oath itself at work, but I wonder if he had already obtained the Ring before making the curse, and if it worked part of the effect.

To follow-up on that last - did one of the Istari actually help with making these blades? It was 300-400 years since their arrival. If the Blue Wizards were already in the East (likely) - it seems out of Radagast's league (EDIT: and outside his area of interest), it doesn't seem like Gandalf's style (and he makes no mention of an association with the weapons)... could it have been Saruman? He was a "man of skill" (and had been a Maia of Aule)... the true nature of the Istari was likely unknown to most (and they were initially written as Numenorean - could they be mistaken for them? Work among them as if they belonged?). He mostly dealt with Men... could HE have tried to help the surviving kingdoms of the north in his early years in this way - while still probably more true to his mission? (and boy - could THIS make a whole 'nuther thread!)

Anyway - I know there's about nothing else in the text to lead us any further in this. But speculating... what makes sense to you about the making of these daggers?


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## Deleted member 12094 (Jan 1, 2019)

No problem at all, SES, well done.

Apart from literature and other references, there is a very intriguing parallel which John D. Rateliff wonderfully describes (in his book "The History of the Hobbit") between the stories of Beleg's death in "The Children of Húrin", the dragon's death in TH, the Witch-King's death in LotR, as well as Beleg's death in the story of Beowulf. In each case a special weapon plays a central role in the story.

Let me quote his full text and reflections here, because I think it is worth reading in this context:

_The motif of the Black Arrow both harkens back to the alliterative poems of the 1920s and ahead to the Numenorean blades in The Lord of the Rings. In 'The Lay of the Children of Hurin', Beleg the Bowman carries a special arrow named Dailir, of which we are told
_
_. . . Dailir he drew, his dart beloved; howso far fared it, or fell unnoted, unsought he found it with sound feathers and barbs unbroken_​_
When Beleg stumbles in the dark while rescuing Túrin and breaks this lucky arrow, injuring his hand in the process, the narrator makes clear this is an omen of disaster, and indeed Túrin murders Beleg only minutes later in a tragic case of mistaken identity.

Bard is more fortunate, in that although his arrow too is ultimately lost, its final act is to exceed all hope by slaying his people's greatest foe, with a sense that it perishes in the act of fulfilling its destiny. This is hinted at by Bard's final words before that fateful shot:
_
_'If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well!';_​_
compare the narrator's comment when Merry's blade burns away after helping to slay the Witch-King of Angmar (that is, the Lord of the Nazgul):
_
_So passed the sword of the Barrow-downs [...]_​_
Once again Beowulf may have contributed something to the idea of a weapon that achieves its goal but then perishes: in the battle with Grendel's dam, Beowulf finds that the sword he has brought cannot harm the monster, but he is able to slay her and to cut off Grendel's head with an ancient sword he finds within her lair. This ealdsweord eotenisc (Beowulf line 1558a; literally, 'old entish sword') then melts away (lines 1606b-1609), leaving only the hilt behind (1614.15-1617). In any case, like Bard himself in the original draft, the Black Arrow is no sooner introduced than it fulfills its role in slaying the seemingly invulnerable dragon and leaves the story._​
With such striking analogies, it can be expected that the origin of the "ultimate" weapon, which perishes after the final deed is done, remains of obscure origin, and that its smith and its forging remain unknown.

Or ... if it were not, could anyone envisage the option that another one could be made? ... But for what purpose, after the purpose was fulfilled?


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## Squint-eyed Southerner (Jan 2, 2019)

Thanks for those interesting quotes, Meroe.

Yes, I think it quite likely that _Beowulf _ influenced the Barrow-blades, as it did so much else in Tolkien's writing; it certainly provides a "symmetrical" closure to the Witch-King's story: a "magical" blade, created to counter the rise of a supernatural force, and then, millenia later, fulfilling its purpose and vanishing with its enemy.

However, as so often, there's ambiguity; recall the words of Strider at Weathertop:



> The only hurt that it did to his enemy, I fear; for it is unharmed, but all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King.



So the blade melted after its spell was released, but evidently there was more going on: Merry's sword was destroyed, but so was Eowyn's. The difference in the respective descriptions is worth noting; Eowyn's sword _"broke sparkling into many shards"; _the end of the Barrow-blade is very different:



> And behold! there lay his weapon, but the blade was smoking like a dry branch that has been thrust in a fire; and as he watched it it writhed and withered and was consumed.



There seem to be two opposed images here: cold and heat. The Nazgul are associated with cold, with "frozen fear", and Eowyn's sword reacts as we might expect were it to be thrust into liquid oxygen, say; while Merry's blade smolders and burns away, but slowly, as in cases of "spontaneous combustion".

Notable also is the use of the words "writhed" and "withered": "writhe", as T.A. Shippey has pointed out, is cognate with both _wreath _and_ wraith, _and "withered" reminds us of the death of Saruman. I'm not sure of the significance of this, but it's suggestive.

Valandil, one possibility for origins: we know that the Elves of the Lonely Isle came to Numenor in its early days, bringing gifts and knowledge; it could be possible to consider that they imparted the craft of making "magical" artifacts, including "spell-swords". That, of course, is counter to Tolkien's direct statement in his letter that the magic of the Elves was "inherent" and not to be learned by Man through lore or spells. But then, we have his note that the Numenoreans did indeed use "spells" in the making of swords.

Frustrating as it is, we may have to reconcile ourselves to the first sentence in the letter: the author was "far too casual about 'magic'". 

Oh, BTW:


Valandil said:


> Another possible use of Dunedain magic is Isildur "cursing" the Men of the White Mountains, when they did not stay true to their Oath... which may be viewed as the Oath itself at work, but I wonder if he had already obtained the Ring before making the curse, and if it worked part of the effect.



This seems to me unlikely. The placing of the Stone of Erech, and taking of the Oath, must have happened around S.A. 3320. Sauron attacked Gondor a little over 100 years later, in 3429. That would have been the logical time to demand the fulfilment of the oath. Aragorn's words, in describing the Stone, seem to bear this out:


> . . .and upon it the King of the Mountains swore allegiance to him in the beginning of the realm of Gondor. But when Sauron returned and grew in might again, Isildur summoned the Men of the Mountains to fulfill their oath, and they would not:


Besides which, it would be rather odd to call on someone to fight against Sauron _after_ he'd been defeated!


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## Valandil (Jan 4, 2019)

I had forgotten that reference about Isildur summoning them to fulfill their oath. I guess I thought they would know when they needed to come (hear tell there's a war on!) - and thought the curse might have come at the end of the war to which they had failed to come. Part of my reasoning is that Isildur seems to have been occupied in other areas. After the fall of Minas Ithil in the first wave of the war, he left for Arnor - and he returned over the Misty Mountains and down into Dagorlad - and was busy with the war from that side probably until it was over. But... that quote makes it pretty clear. Unless he summoned them at the start of the war, left for Arnor, later found that they had failed to come and cursed them after the war was all over.


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## Squint-eyed Southerner (Jan 4, 2019)

I didn’t include it in the quote, but the passage continues:


> 'Then Isildur said to their king: "Thou shalt be the last king. And if the West prove mightier than thy Black Master, this curse I lay upon thee and thy folk: to rest never until your oath is fulfilled. For this war will last through years uncounted, and you shall be summoned once again before the end."


That last sentence strikes an odd note: the war _didn't _last "through years uncounted"; if we take Sauron's attack on Gondor in 3429 as the start, from beginning to end it lasted only about a dozen. Other than being a mere rhetorical flourish on the part of Isildur, only two possibilities occur to me: one, that being a mortal man, however elevated, he could not really "see" into the future, but envisioned only a very long struggle, perhaps not expecting the entry of the Elves into the war.

The other possibility, which would be in line with the idea that the curse happened _after_ the war, is that he foresaw the rise of Sauron in the Third Age, and the War of the Ring; however, there is no gap in the text, or any indication of a passage of time between refusal and curse, and further, every description of the last battle and the destruction of Sauron would argue against this. Elrond and Cirdan had deep misgivings as to whether Sauron was banished forever, while the Ring still existed, but Isildur shows, by his keeping of it, that he did not. I hesitate to call a perceived error in the story an authorial slip, until all other possibilities are eliminated, and I'd welcome ideas on this.

As for the timing of Isildur's summons, I'd lean towards S.A. 3429, at the onset of Sauron's attack on Gondor, but it's certainly possible that it, and the curse, happened after Isildur's escape down the Anduin, on his way to Arnor.

I've been fascinated with the mysterious Stone of Erech ever since my very first reading, and followed the changes of location, timing, and rationale in the HoME volumes as they came out. I made a number of notes on the subject, but as I don't have access to my library at the moment, I'll mention here only that at one point, the Stone was placed near the seashore where Isildur landed after the destruction of Numenor; later, the author moved it to its final location far inland. If the passage under discussion was written when the former conception was the one held by Tolkien, and left unchanged, it would go a ways toward explaining the timing of the curse: Isildur, escaping the fall of Minas Ithil, landed again at the place of his first "Middle Earth-fall", and in his bitterness at Sauron's victory and the Mountain Men's oath-breaking, cursed them to a kind of living death.

I note as an aside, Isildur's archaistic language, as related by Aragorn: it is in line with the archaism in the record he made concerning the Ring, and may be only part of Tolkien's technique in marking out the great passage of time -- 3,000 years -- between Isildur and Aragorn. But it also conveys a kind of formal "curse-language"; whether the former, the latter, or both are intended, is a question.

On the subject of the many changes in the story of the Stone, does the Reader's Companion have anything to say?


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## Valandil (Jan 4, 2019)

I think you're correct. This quote almost certainly comes from 3429 SA. And it's quite plausible that, since Anarion was charged with holding off the advance of Sauron's troops while Isildur went to Arnor, Isildur would in turn attempt to "rally the troops" before his departure.

I wonder sometimes why it was so compelling that Isildur actually GO to Arnor, when they had the palantiri. There was undoubtedly contact with Elendil via Palantir before he went (unless Elendil was away at Elostirion, gazing west...). Perhaps Elendil wanted one of this sons to physically make the trip to Arnor, maybe to assist in war preparations, to speak directly to his nobles and other officials, even to begin to "warm" them to the idea of succeeding Elendil in the North, rather than continuing as a co-ruler of Gondor.


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## Squint-eyed Southerner (Jan 6, 2019)

It's possible that Isildur, having lost Minas Ithil, and the lands east of the Anduin under his sovereignty, felt that he now had no "official" position, and rather than remain in his brother's part of the realm, it would be more useful for him to go to his father for consultation and instruction; and perhaps, as you suggest, press for help from Men and Elves.

Though of course there remains the matter of the Palantiri. With Osgiliath under siege, it's conceivable the Master Stone might be removed to Minas Anor for safety, but I find it hard to believe the situation was so chaotic that it couldn't be used. An interesting problem.

We're getting away from the subject of the Barrow-blades, but something I've always found puzzling is the apparent ease with which Elendil and his sons assumed control of the Numenoreans in Middle Earth. Pelargir, established S.A. 2350, became the "chief haven of the Faithful Numenoreans", but the impression from the appendices and the Akallabeth is that these were always few, compared to the King's Men; and there were hundreds of years during which "imperialist" Numenor held sway in Middle Earth. I don't recall reading of any resistance, when Ar-Pharazon landed. The nine ships, even if they were the size of Ming treasure ships, could not have carried thousands. Perhaps many on the King's side repented, on learning of the destruction of Numenor.

BTW, that reminds me of something else concerning the Stone of Erech: originally, it was brought much earlier in the return of the Numenoreans to Middle Earth; I wonder if one reason for moving it forward in time, and having it brought by Isildur, was a legalistic one. Had it been placed, and the "treaty" made by, earlier emissaries of the king, the Mountain People could have pointed out with some justification that Isildur, as a "rebel", had no legal claim to their loyalty.

It does leave the question of why the fleeing Faithful would go to the trouble of taking a 12-14 foot diameter round rock with them.


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## Miguel (Jan 6, 2019)

Squint-eyed Southerner said:


> Perhaps many on the King's side repented, on learning of the destruction of Numenor.



Either that (which i like) or they just thrived out of what they had. IIRC, there was no account of the Faithful mixing with Middle-Earth men until after the Kin-strife.


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## Valandil (Jan 7, 2019)

Squint-eyed Southerner said:


> :
> :
> :
> We're getting away from the subject of the Barrow-blades, but something I've always found puzzling is the apparent ease with which Elendil and his sons assumed control of the Numenoreans in Middle Earth. Pelargir, established S.A. 2350, became the "chief haven of the Faithful Numenoreans", but the impression from the appendices and the Akallabeth is that these were always few, compared to the King's Men; and there were hundreds of years during which "imperialist" Numenor held sway in Middle Earth. I don't recall reading of any resistance, when Ar-Pharazon landed. The nine ships, even if they were the size of Ming treasure ships, could not have carried thousands. Perhaps many on the King's side repented, on learning of the destruction of Numenor.
> ...



As to the number of Exiles in the nine ships, I wonder if it WAS several thousands. I imagine that the Numenoreans might have built ships similar to full-rigged sailing ships of the 1700's & early 1800's. Imagine sort of a three-decker, like HMS Victory, but without the guns. Each of those had a crew of 800+ - so if no cannon, no ammunition and passengers packed in, I think each could have carried a lot.

And... there were likely lots more descendants of Numenorean colonists, who were Faithful, in the lands what became both the kingdoms of Arnor and of Gondor. See this article - it shows 2011 - but was first posted on a different site about 10-12 years before this:

https://middle-earth.xenite.org/seeking-the-wayward-children-of-numenor/


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## Miguel (Jan 7, 2019)

I read the link, that was a clear example of how much depth can be in something that's already deep. I have the feeling this legendarium is endless even if you get to read everything.


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## Squint-eyed Southerner (Jan 7, 2019)

Thanks for the link, Valandil; interesting article.

Yes, I concede the point: there might have been several thousand on the voyage, though it's not the impression I got from the text, with all the talk of heirlooms and things stuffed in.

However, Tolkien's many references to the "mighty works" of the Numenoreans, and various characters lamenting how much knowledge had been lost over the ages, would suggest that shipbuilding could well be an area of diminution of skill. After all, with Numenor gone, there would have been no need for great oceanic voyages; coast-hugging ships would not need to be as large.

Whether the Ming Dynasty treasure ships were as big as records claimed, or were seagoing vessels at all, I can still envision a Numenorean parallel, even if Tolkien didn't have something so large in mind. Ships of that size could certainly accommodate numbers of people; and the heavy deforestation up the Gwathlo and other areas would seem to indicate many large ships transporting timber back to Numenor.

I'm reminded of the Anglo-Saxons in Britain who, coming on the Roman works, could attribute them only to _orthanc enta geweorc -- _the "cunning work of giants".


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## Miguel (Jan 7, 2019)

Regarding Atlantis, this looks like the latest on it. I was born an hour away from that location and lived there for 28 years, beautiful land, though it can get pretty brutal at times in there. I don't know much about this but i saw some comments saying that some of the structures were not man-made but crafted by Poseidon himself according to Plato.


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## Alcuin (Sep 16, 2019)

Squint-eyed Southerner said:


> Please come back soon, and expand on this! I hadn't considered it before, but the possible symmetries are tantalizing:
> 
> _'There are evil things written on this hilt,' he said; 'though maybe your eyes cannot see them.'_


Working backwards, the first pertinent passage is in _Reader’s Companion_ at the end of the chapter for “Knife in the Dark”. Hammond and Scull recite Tolkien’s notes on the chapter:


> It is a strange thing that the camp was not watched while darkness lasted of the night Oct. 6-7, … so that [the Witch-king] … lost track of the Ring. … [The Witch-king] … had been shaken by the fire of Gandalf, and began to perceive that the mission on which Sauron had sent him was one of great peril to himself both by the way, and on his return to his Master (if unsuccessful);… [A]bove all the timid and terrified Bearer had resisted him, had dared to strike at him with an enchanted sword made by his own enemies long ago for his destruction. Narrowly it had missed him. How he had come by it – save in the Barrows of Cardolan. Then he was in some way mightier than the B[arrow]-wight…
> 
> Escaping a wound that would have been as deadly to him as the Mordor-knife to Frodo (as was proved at the end), he withdrew and hid for a while…


So from this passage we learn that 
(1) the barrow-blade is indeed an “enchanted sword made by [the Dúnedain] for [the Witch-king’s] destruction,” and
(2) “a wound [from] that [sword] would have been as deadly [to the Witch-king] as the Mordor-knife was to Frodo (as was proved at the end).”​
Hold onto those two ideas and consider what Gandalf told Frodo when he awoke in Rivendell.


> You were beginning to fade. … The wound was overcoming you at last. A few more hours and you would have been beyond our aid. … [T]here was some fragment of the blade still in the closed wound. But it could not be found until last night. Then Elrond removed a splinter. … It has been melted. [I]t seems that Hobbits fade very reluctantly. I have known strong warriors of the Big People who would quickly have been overcome by that splinter… They tried to pierce your heart with a Morgul-knife which remains in the wound. If they had succeeded, you would have become like they are, only weaker and under their command. You would have become a wraith…


So here are some more ideas to hold onto.
(3) The Morgul-knife is meant to cause regular people to _fade_, to enter into the Unseen world. In other words, it’s necromancy, sorcery.(_Necromancy_ is magic concerning the dead. _Sorcery_ is what we call commonly “Black magic,” what Tolkien calls Morgul in Sindarin.) Remember, Sauron is the Necromancer, and the Witch-king his chief servant was “a great king and sorcerer … of old.” 
(4) At the end of the _fading_ process, mortals become wraiths.
(5) Hobbits resist _fading_.​
Now let’s go back further to Gandalf’s first discussion with Frodo about the Ring.


> A mortal … who keeps one of the Great Rings does not die, but he does not grow or obtain more life, he merely continues, until at last every minute is a weariness. And if he often uses the Ring to make himself invisible, he fades: he becomes in the end invisible permanently, and walks in the twilight under the eye of the dark power that rules the Rings. Yes, sooner or later – later, if he is strong or well-meaning to begin with, but neither strength nor good purpose will last – sooner or later the dark power will devour him.


So here’s another idea: 
(6) The Great Rings do the same thing to mortals as the Morgul-knife: it makes them _fade_.​
Let’s gather another important point:
(7) Aragorn tells the Hobbits that “all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King.”​
Now let’s jump ahead to the Witch-king’s confrontation with Éowyn and Merry and examine the oft-quoted passage of much interest:


> [G]lad would he have been to know [the] fate [of the sword of the Barrow-downs] who wrought it slowly long ago in the North-kingdom when the Dúnedain were young, and chief among their foes was the dread realm of Angmar and its sorcerer king. No other blade, not though mightier hands had wielded it, would have dealt that foe a wound so bitter, cleaving the undead flesh, breaking the spell that knit his unseen sinews to his will.


So here’s the last little tidbit: 
(8) The Barrow-blade undid the _fading_ process by “breaking the spell”, making the Witch-king vulnerable to a blow by Éowyn’s sword, _which doesn’t seem to be magic_, just a normal sword.​
One of the primary original purposes of the Great Rings, from point of view of the Elves who forged them, was at least in part to prevent their _fading_ while they remained in Middle-earth. The effect on Men, however, was to make them _fade_. The Witch-king used a Morgul-knife on Boromir I, Steward of Gondor, and though he mostly recovered from the wound, he died young for a Dúnadan of that time. There can be little doubt that the Witch-king also used Morgul-knives in his long war to destroy what remained of Arnor: hence Elrond’s and Aragorn’s knowledge of the blades, as well as Aragorn’s knowledge that “all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King.” In the Second Age, Elrond led the surviving Mírdain, the Elven-smiths, of Eregion to safety in the Mountains and founded Rivendell. It seems that at least one of the Dúnedain learned what was happening to his fellows because of the dreadful weapons, and he fashioned a counter-weapon: something that would undo the necromantic spells of the Great Rings sufficient to render a Ringwraith vulnerable to normal weaponry, to _unfade_ it; that may or may not have required the assistance of or knowledge from the surviving Mírdain in Rivendell: it is probably inconsequential to the story, but they were available. (These are probably the same Elven-smiths who reforged Narsil into Andúril.) The Witch-king could not unmake these weapons, so he gathered them together and put them in a great barrow (the tomb of the last Prince of Cardolan) guarded by a barrow-wight. But he either never knew about or forgot about Tom Bombadil, who did know about the swords (or daggers), opened the barrow, and drove out the barrow-wight. So when Merry struck the Witch-king with his barrow-blade, the effect of the blade was to _unfade_ him sufficiently that Éowyn could kill him: just the opposite of the effect of the Morgul-knife on Frodo. 

A few loose ends. Bilbo felt _all thin and stretched_: Gandalf said that was a sign the Ring was getting control of him. Gollum was altogether _thin and stretched_ even down to his cackling laugh, but he had never yet become a wraith. Another loose end: “all blades perish that pierce that dreadful King.” That seems to be an effect of either the Witch-king’s Ring or his sorcery, or some combination of the two. It was still in effect even after Merry stabbed him: Éowyn’s sword disintegrated when she struck him, but only after delivering a “mortal” wound to his _faded_ body. And Nazgûl were exceedingly tough: Legolas shot one out of the sky along the Anduin, and though it fell quite a distance, it wasn’t killed. (Nazgûl didn’t like fire, but that might be because it was not only painful, but it may have taken them some time to recover from the effects of burns.) And finally, Frodo used one of these blades on the barrow-wight, severing its hand, breaking the blade up to the hilt, but its effect on the barrow-wight seems to have been to injure it and make it angry (it snarled at him): the effect on the Witch-king was rather more dramatic. 

At the end, I think we can definitely say that 
the barrow-blade was made by Dúnedain, and
the barrow-blade was, in fact, “enchanted”.
If we take Tolkien’s word for it, the effect on the Witch-king was very like the effect of his Morgul-knife on Frodo.
The _fading_/_unfading_ is obviously speculative on my part, but if we want to speculate on a mechanism for how this might happen, it fits with what we know from the story. 

That leaves the question of how the Dúnadan smith learned how to accomplish this. To answer that, I propose that 
the Dúnedain of Arnor had unfortunately experienced Morgul-knives and their effects, possibly obtaining one or more examples.
They had access to any surviving Mírdain in Rivendell.
Saruman was not always an enemy. Like Sauron, he was one of the folk of Aulë the Smith, and might have lent the Dúnedain some assistance.
And finally, let’s face it: the Dúnedain were pretty smart on their own account.
I’ve really got to get back to the salt mines.


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