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mithrilandvilya · 5 months

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The Courage of Rosie Cotton – The Untold Story of Rosie’s Rebellion

3th fear/courage/adventure

The Courage of Rosie Cotton – The Untold Story of Rosie’s Rebellion

Rosie’s love had not come back.

She lay awake night after night, wondering what happened to her Sam and fearing a future without him. She had never imagined any life except that she would be his bride, and they would have many children and till the land as the Cottons and Gamgees had always done. She had never wanted anything else. But the world was changing for the worse before her eyes, and now what had once felt like the inevitable and obvious destiny now felt more remote with each passing day.

Sam had told her what he could to explain why he must go. Frodo needed his help and they should be back in Spring. Rosie knew Sam loved Frodo and that it was not a misplaced loyalty. Frodo, although rather eccentric like his uncle, was wise and kind. He would never drag Sam down the wrong path. So, she had encouraged her beau to serve Frodo well, have an exciting journey and tell her everything when he got back.

They had whispered the idea of a May wedding, after all was done and settled. It was now May 25th, and instead of dancing in Sam’s arms at their ceremony, Rosie was sitting in a cell in the Shirriff’s jail and Sam was missing.

It all seemed to begin with Lotho moving into Bag End, but some of it had apparently started before – it came to light that he had bought the Old Mill and shut it down, and that he was selling off his Pipe Weed outside of the Shire. Next, he was taking goods from Bag End and selling it off to buy land all over the Shire, but not at a fair price. Strange, creepy men had turned up and were bullying folks into selling for dirt cheap prices.

That morning the mill shut down, the Mayor had got up a group of hobbits to protest and she had passed by and stopped to see what all the ruckus was about.

“You can’t stop progress!” Lotho was bickering. “I own the Old Mill and can do with it what I like. I’ve an interested buyer and industrialization is the future. The Shire is a backwater and I will not see it stay so. A coal-powered mill is coming, and that is just the start. I warn you backward Hobbits, if you stand in the way of progress, we will mow you down, so get out of the way!”

Lotho left, and so did she, but that night she was horrified to learn that he had come back with Ruffians and jailed the Mayor!

If only Frodo had not gone off on whatever was his urgent errand, surely none of this would have happened. No one had ever imagined that the absence of a few could be so devastating to so many. Sam would be so furious to see what was happening now, and noble Frodo would surely have prevented it if he had seen it coming, despite his reputation as a gentle fellow.

Never had she been more confused and afraid. It was as if the world had turned upside down. Now Lotho had set himself up as a chief, calling himself the Shirriff. The Shirriff was passing new laws left and right and the natural inclinations of most Hobbits to be law-abiding and peaceful meant most were so busy trying to understand the new rules and stay out of the way of the Ruffians that they could hardly pay attention to the ongoing plunder of Bag End, the disappearance of the crops, rising prices, unsavory new neighbors, or anything else.

The latest tragedy was that Lotho had seized her friend Daisy’s family home because they didn’t pay some tax that no one had ever even heard of. But he produced the papers, and Rosie’s father Tolman (Tom) Cotton had shaken his head along with everyone else at their unfortunate plight.

“It seems there’s nothing to be done, the law is the law, but this sure doesn’t sit well in my heart,” he had said. He opened his home to the homeless neighbors as the best solution he could come up with, but he wondered what tax he himself was forgetting to pay and worrying his own home would be next.

Rosie had shared her space with Daisy, both being lone daughters of fathers with many sons, and her heart ached so much when Daisy put her head on her shoulder and cried.

“What did we ever do to deserve this! I miss home so much, but even now if we got it back, they’ve ruined it! They made us sell our field last month, so however will we even eat?” she cried. Rosie tried to remain optimistic and console her.

“Oh Daisy, we’d never let you go hungry, and I know it is no consolation for your own home, but ours is yours as long as you want. Things will get better!”

“But how do you know? What if you Cottons lose your place next? Shirriff Lotho is taking up everything.”

Rosie didn’t have an answer, and when she found some time alone, her brave, cheerful face disintegrated, and she, too, shed tears.

Being May, it was well into planting season. Many cold-tolerant crops had already been sown, but the Cottons had a lot more work to do tending them and getting the later-season foods in the ground. Today she was re-seeding a quick-growing squash in with the tall-boy beans and dandy corn. Although still not at flower, in this depressed creek-flood plain, many stalks were already quite tall, over her head.

She was relieved that things had gotten a little better for Daisy’s family – Lotho had hired them to work their old fields, letting them stay in out-buildings, and promised them enough of the harvest to live through the winter. Rosie feared he would keep them just above starving and was determined that her family’s own harvest be extra-bountiful to supplement.

Rosie was grateful for the work to distract her from thinking too much. That was why at first she hadn’t noticed the two Shirriff’s men walking around in the field, pacing off and taking notes. She stepped into the next row and almost bumped into one of them, but thankfully his back was to her and he was busy shuffling some papers that had blown out of his hands and needed re-sorting. She ducked back to her former place while her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that surely they could hear it. A few seconds of listening to them verified what she had been dreading – they were acting as if the Cotton farm was a soon-to-be-acquired parcel of Lotho’s. To them, it was a foregone conclusion and they were just dotting Is and crossing Ts.

She could not stay hidden. As soon as they moved at all they would see her and she would look positively foolish. So, after a moment’s hesitation, Rosie steeled herself and continued her planting as if she had heard nothing, fighting back tears and hands trembling, with the foolhardy idea of listening in further if they would ignore her. She knew it was a dumb idea, but nothing else came to her.

The pacing man arrived back from his walk-off, gave new numbers to the paper holder and noticed Rosie bent over a row just a few yards off. He leered at her in such a creepy way that Rosie instantly felt horribly violated and afraid.

“That’s right, girly,” he smirked. “Bend over and work that row for us like a good doll and maybe I’ll keep you warm and fed this winter. You’ll be grateful for whatever I give you.”

“Whatever I give you” was said with so much lustful harassment, Rosie felt threatened that he would grab and assault her right then and there. She jumped up, piles of seeds spilling off her petticoat, and clumsily ran off on queasy legs, desperate to get away from the jeers and laughs of Lotho’s thugs.

She found her brother Nibs plowing on the other side of the oak stand. One look at her face and he had dropped the plow mid-stride and come to her. She couldn’t bring herself to verbalize what she had just been through; it was too terrible, personal, and fresh for words. Instead, she focused on explaining to Nibs through her choked sobs that they were about to lose everything, just as Daisy’s family had done.

Nibs was stunned and almost didn’t believe her. He was by nature trusting and cheerful if a little mischievious, and kept his nose out of other’s business. He hadn’t given any thought to something like this happening, but his protective brother instinct told him Rosie wasn’t messing around and he quickly ushered her out of the fields into their kitchen and started making her a cup of tea.

“Tea?” Rosie sniffled. “Nibs, that is sweet, but this is no time for tea. Please, go get Da and the rest, they must know what is happening. We have to figure out something to do!” Nibs was inclined to tease Rosie for trying to boss him around if she weren’t so shaken. Instead, he did as she wished, and soon the Cottons had abandoned their fields for a meeting in the kitchen. When all were settled, Rosie re-told her story, but this time she found the courage to recount the whole thing. Nibs dropped his tea at the part he hadn’t been told before, and Tom Jr., was so furious that he would’ve stormed out to the field to beat those brigands to a pulp had his other two brothers not restrained him.

“I’ve got to go to talk to Lotho. The rest of you stay here,” Senior had hastily said and soon the meeting was just silence.

But Da didn’t come back! The next morning, Jolly and Nick set out early and before sunrise had finished, came back to report that Father Cotton had been jailed by Lotho after they argued. Rosie was utterly distraught. Sam didn’t come back, Da didn’t come back, who was next?

Working in the fields today felt absolutely absurd and dangerous in the face of things, and no one knew what to do. Finally, Rosie decided to go help Daisy and fill her in on what had happened. Daisy was happy to see her and soon eagerly daydreaming about winter plans with the Cotton family. Rosie hadn’t the heart to share her news because it might take away what little hope Daisy had left, so she made some excuse for not being in her own field and left the rest unsaid.

To her great relief, Mr. Cotton was released and home that evening, but he was sad and quiet and wouldn’t share anything about what had happened or had been said. He just hugged everyone and trudged off to bed without dinner. Rosie lay awake all night and could hear him tossing and turning. He got up before the crack of dawn and silently went out to the fields and got to work, soon followed by her brothers.

“The fields won’t wait, and one way or another we have to eat. Surely if Lotho takes our land he’ll make a similar agreement as he has with others,” one of her brothers had said. They told her to either stay home or stay right with one of them in the fields and they would protect her. Rosie opted to stay home, the look in the eyes of that creep and the sound of his voice vivid in her memory.

A week went by, and she was going stir-crazy in the house. Yesterday, the expected horror had finally happened and Lotho had issued papers to seize the Cotton home and land, along with that of half a dozen other families. They were all to be in exactly the same situation as Daisy’s family in two weeks.

She needed fresh air and was tired of being a prisoner in her home, afraid. So out she went, but in the opposite direction of where the two creeps had been, despite all logic that they were now elsewhere, plotting someone else’s field that they would take next.

If Mr. Frodo turned up now, how could even he fix this? Surely he’d just be locked up too, and also her Sam. Maybe it was better they were probably dead somewhere than to see what was happening in their beloved Shire. Everyone was just going to be worked to death in what were formerly their own fields, their labors instead enriching Lotho and supplying who knows who somewhere far off in the lands of men. There seemed no way out. They might as well just stop farming if none of it would help them.

But wait, the preposterous thought of stopping actually kind of made sense, Rosie thought. What if they all quit working? Lotho couldn’t keep getting richer if no one worked “his” fields, could he? He couldn’t sell off food that never grew. He could seize and “buy” lands, but of what use to him would they be if he had no indentured servants anymore? Yet, if no one grew any food, how would any of them survive next winter? She had to talk to other people about this.

And that is how she ended up in the Shirriff’s jail on the evening of May 25th. She had talked to Daisy and all of her family. She had talked to her brothers and Da. She had talked to the other half-dozen families who had been given notice, all those who had already sold or had their homes seized, and any others who would listen, worried they might be next. It took courage because at first most people looked at her like she had gone a bit mad, and word got around.

Her family had at first tried to talk her out of this organizing business, but she told them she wasn’t going to sit at home and she wasn’t going to plant again until it was safe and her own. They worried, but they had to admire her spirit. They had grieved for her and with her that Sam was gone, his fate unknown, and acknowledged her need to try to control something of her uncertain future.

In the community, some people walked away as soon as they saw her coming, afraid of the trouble she might bring. Others talked about her behind her back that losing Sam had driven her mad. It wasn’t easy for her to go out each day and keep trying – some were actively trying to stop her, and those that weren’t looked at her unfondly or with pity. What’s worse, the creepy men were still around, and missed no opportunity to ogle and talk about their plans for her come winter.

But she did have a point, and so a few and then another few listened to her, if for no other reason than to patronize and comfort her. At first, everyone scoffed at her idea– they'd all starve if they didn’t work, and hobbits, while not being necessarily quick about things, were not lazy folk and didn’t like the idea of leaving their fields fallow even if they didn’t own them. A few were ready to starve just to see Lotho get his come-uppance, but most couldn’t bear the thought of something like that happening to those around them. So, for a time, the meetings were just people lamenting about the horrible state of the Shire with few solutions.

But good old Fredegar had the idea of night work in select fields farthest from Lotho’s influence with the quickest, hardiest, stealthiest crops that would get them through, and a series of secret caches of the resulting supply. With many details still to be worked out, thirty hobbits decided to abandon their labors to stick it to Lotho as of the next day.

Rosie joined a small group of them in a march through town to the Shirriff station, nervous that it would all fall apart right away. She held her chin up bravely as the entourage passed a group of sneering Ruffians, including the two she had seen in the field. Once the protestors made their intentions clear to Lotho, in short order the thugs had them rounded up and jailed them all. Rosie and the others had been in cells now for three nights, and each day more had been shoved in with them. Apparently people were upset enough about Lotho throwing people in jail that more protestors showed up and got locked up, too. But as she gathered news from new arrivals, she heard that the fields went untended and Lotho was starting to see his predicament. How was this going to end?

On June 7th, a great storm came with hail and floods. Her feet were muddy as the water ran under the cell walls. She was cold, tired, worried sick and almost ready to give in. But she knew her beans, squash and corn were gone, so that nothing would even wild-grow in the Cotton fields for Lotho’s benefit unless replanting happened soon.

As days passed, Lotho was growing furious while his ruffians were complaining about the state of affairs not going according to plan. Cracks were showing in his control of the Shire and his band of enforcers. On June 27th, Rosie got to go home. Most of the protestors were unceremoniously let out of cells in a seemingly haphazard, unorganized fashion over many weeks. Lotho remained blustery and bullying, and some hobbits relented, if they had ever joined the protests at all, and returned to some of his fields, but no one ever showed up to evict the Cottons or the other six families who had received papers. The ruffians would come by every now and then and threaten and menace, but the Cotton farm stayed fallow all summer and the Cotton family stayed there.

And unknown to Lotho, other things were grown and secreted away according to the plan of Fredegar.

Lotho continued to lose control of the situation and was before long deposed by some outsider named Sharkey. Sharkey was apparently the buyer of the Old Mill land from Lotho. He speedily enticed some of the more meek or desperate hobbits to do the work to put up a new one, a ghastly coal-belching monstrosity. More and more hobbits grew angry, though, as the ugly head of industrialization and despotism reared all over the Shire. The only real resistance that held on, though, aside from random scuffles, in spite of the growing discontent was Rosie’s Rebellion, as Fredegar had dubbed it –many fields were fallow and secret harvests were cached.

Rosie’s hope was only that the hobbits could use the caches and get through winter, but she doubted that the secret work could continue another year uncaught. She dared not think farther ahead.

Then one chilly November day as her family sat down to one of their rationed meals, Samwise Gamgee knocked on the door and unceremoniously said, “I’m back.”

He followed with, “I’m so sorry to be late, Rosie, really I am, but it couldn’t be helped. I am learning things are a mess in the Shire, but how are you?”

Rosie Cotton smiled for the first time in many months and replied, “I’m fine now.”

She soon learned that Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin were not the same hobbits who had left. Her heart swelled with pride and love as they were able to rouse the Shire and lead them in the Battle of Bywater. Not to say that war in the Shire wasn’t a terrifying thing to experience, but to her reckoning it was better than all that had transpired in the year without Sam. Rosie knew, at least, that they had tried their best and that the restful peace that was restored, was well-earned.

She got her wedding with Sam and a long, simple, rural life with many children. It was a little different than she had at first dreamed, because they lived with Frodo for quite a while instead of in the usual Gamgee and Cotton neighborhood, and Sam served many years as mayor. But a happy life it was.

The people reckoned Rosie was the right lady at Sam-the-Mayor's side, and many who had once either chided or pitied her now admired her as a brave and clever lady. Rosie’s courageous rebellion provided enough food to survive that winter without a single hobbit left to starve. Lotho’s power had collapsed due to it, and even Old Sharkey had been none the wiser.

#hobbits #lotrweek #rosie cotton #scouring of the shire #lord of the rings #lotr fanfiction

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cantsayidont · 4 days

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I am generally fond of the Peter Jackson LORD OF THE RINGS movies (much more so than THE HOBBIT trilogy, which is an unmitigated disaster from start to finish), but I still feel that it was a tremendous error to remove "The Scouring of the Shire" from the ending of RETURN OF THE KING. I think I understand the rationale for omitting it — it further complicates what's already a protracted finale, and it is kind of a downer — but I suspect it's one of the changes to which Tolkien himself would have most objected.

First, it's an essential element in the arc of Frodo. Frodo has already been wounded in a way that even Elrond and Gandalf can't entirely fix, even after they remove the notch of the Morgul-knife. After enduring an impossible ordeal, he returns to the Shire to find that the war has come home in a way that, at least for him, can't be fully set right even after Saruman is dead and much of the immediate damage repaired. Frodo's original conflicts have been seemingly resolved: At the beginning of the book, he's seen in Hobbiton as an irresponsible youth of dubious background who grows into another suspicious eccentric like Bilbo, but by the end, they want to make him the mayor (to which Frodo only very reluctantly and temporarily agrees), and even his feud with the Sackville-Bagginses is ended. Even so, Frodo is left far more alienated than he ever was to start with, which is why he finally chooses to go over Sea rather than live out his life in the Shire.

Second, while it is superficially rather grim, I think Tolkien might have argued that it's actually his most hopeful chapter. Tolkien says in the introduction to the second edition that "The Scouring of the Shire" had its roots in his own childhood:

The country in which I lived in childhood [in Warwickshire] was being shabbily destroyed before I was ten, in days when motor-cars were rare objects (I had never seen one) and men were still building suburban railways. Recently I saw in a paper a picture of the last decrepitude of the once thriving corn-mill beside its pool that long ago seemed to me so important.

Thus, it seems significant that the shabby destruction of the Shire at the hands of Saruman and his men is actually set right remarkably quickly. As soon as Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin return, they're able to rouse the other hobbits to action and drive out the ruffians within a matter of days, and Sam is even able to use Galadriel's gift to replace most of the trees that have been carelessly destroyed, with a magnificent mallorn-tree in place of the beloved Party Tree. The Shire hasn't wholly escaped the scars of industrialization, but the hobbits have come to their senses and turned back before it was too late.

That is really the most optimistic element of the story's finale. Aragorn's coronation means a restoration of order to the West, but magic and wonder are fading away or departing over Sea. Arwen has made the choice of Luthien and is doomed to eventually fade and leave the world; in the Appendices, after Aragorn's death, she returns to Lórien, now deserted, and essentially lies down and dies. Tolkien did not feel the Ents would ever find the Ent-wives, so they too will probably never flourish again. However, the Shire endures, in a way that the country where Tolkien grew up did not — not by remaining completely aloof from the world, but by rejecting the new mill and the smokestacks, and by "thousands of willing hands of all ages" deliberately tearing down everything built by Saruman and using the bricks "to repair many an old hole, to make it snugger and drier."

#movies #books #lord of the rings #lotr #peter jackson #return of the king #jrr tolkien #the scouring of the shire #frodo baggins #saruman #tolkien's ecological imaginings are not above criticism #they're still rooted in a kind of pastoral fantasy #but it is somehow heartening to imagine #that the horrors of industrialization aren't irreparable

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