Citation (xix) on p. 264 does not make the reference clear: Earendel 'returns from the firmament ever and anon with Voronwe to Kor to see if the Magic Sun has been lit and the fairies have come back'; but in the following isolated note the Rekindling of the Magic Sun explicitly means the re-arising of Urwendi: (7) Urwendi imprisoned by Moru (upset out of the boat by Melko and only the Moon has been magic since). The Faring Forth and the Battle of Erumani would release her and rekindle the Magic Sun. This 'upsetting' of the Sun-ship by Melko and the loss of the Sun's 'magic' is referred to also in (4), where it is added that Urwendi fell into the sea and met her 'death'. In the tale of The Theft of Melko it is said (I. 151) that the cavern in which Melko met Ungweliant was the place where the Sun and Moon were imprisoned afterwards, for 'the primeval spirit Moru' was indeed Ungweliant (see I. 261).
The Battle of Erumani is referred to also in (6), and is possibly to be identified with 'the last fight on the plains of Valinor' prophesied by Gilfanon in (5). But the last part of (5) shows that the Faring Forth came to nothing, and the prophecies were not fulfilled. There are no other references to the dragging of Tol Eressea across the Ocean by Uin the great whale, to the Isle of Iverin, or to the Battle of Ros; but a remarkable writing survives concerning the aftermath of the 'great battle between Men at the Heath of the Sky-roof (now the Withered Heath), about a league from Tavrobel' (end of citation (5)). This is a very hastily pencilled and exceedingly difficult text titled Epilogue. It begins with a short prefatory note: (8) Eriol flees with the fading Elves from the Battle of the High Heath (Ladwen-na-Dhaideloth) and crosses the Gruir and the Afros. The last words of the book of Tales. Written by Eriol at Tavrobel before he sealed the book.
This represents the development mentioned as desirable in (5), that Eriol should 'himself see the last things and finish the book', but an isolated note in C shows my father still uncertain about this even after the Epilogue was in being: 'Prologue by the writer of Tavrobel [i.e., such a Prologue is needed] telling how he found Eriol's writings and put them together. His epilogue after the battle of Ladwen Daideloth is written.' The rivers Gruir and Afros appear also in the passage about the battle at the end of (g). Since it is said there that the Heath was about a league from Tavrobel, the two rivers are clearly those referred to in the Tale of the Sun and Moon: 'the Tower of Tavrobel beside the rivers' (I. 174, and see I.196 note 2). In scattered notes the battle is also called 'the Battle of the Heaven Roof' and 'the Battle of Dor-na-Dhaideloth'.~ I give now the text of the Epilogue: And now is the end of the fair times come very nigh, and behold, all the beauty that yet was on earth -- fragments of the unimagined loveliness of Valinor whence came the folk of the Elves long long ago -- now goeth it all up in smoke.
Here be a few tales, memories ill-told, of all that magic and that wonder twixt here and Eldamar of which I have become acquaint more than any mortal man since first my wandering footsteps came to this sad isle. Of that last battle of the upland heath whose roof is the wide sky -- nor was there any other place beneath the blue folds of Manwe's robe so nigh the heavens or so broadly and so well encanopied -- what grievous things I saw I have told. Already fade the Elves in sorrow and the Faring Forth has come to ruin, and Iluvatar knoweth alone if ever now the Trees shall be relit while the world may last. Behold, I stole by evening from the ruined heath, and my way fled winding down the valley of the Brook of Glass, but the setting of the Sun was blackened with the reek of fires, and the waters of the stream were fouled with the war of men and grime of strife.
Then was my heart bitter to see the bones of the good earth laid bare with winds where the destroying hands of men had tornthe heather and the fern and burnt them to make sacrifice to Melko and to lust of ruin; and the thronging places of the bees that all day hummed among the whins and whortlebushes long ago bearing rich honey down to Tavrobel -- these were now become fosses and [?mounds] of stark red earth, and nought sang there nor danced but unwholesome airs and flies of pestilence. Now the Sun died and behold, I came to that most magic wood where once the ageless oaks stood firm amid the later growths of beech and slender trees of birch, but all were fallen beneath the ruthless axes of unthinking men. Ah me, here was the path beaten with spells, trodden with musics and enchantment that wound therethrough, and this way were the Elves wont to ride a-hunting. Many a time there have I seen them and Gilfanon has been there, and they rode like kings unto the chase, and the beauty of their faces in the sun was as the new morning, and the wind in their golden hair like to the glory of bright flowers shaken at dawn, and the strong music of their voices like the sea and like trumpets and like the noise of very many viols and of golden harps unnumbered.
And yet again have I seen the people of Tavrobel beneath the Moon, and they would ride or dance across the valley of the two rivers where the grey bridge leaps the joining waters; and they would fare swiftly as clad in dreams, spangled with gems like to the grey dews amid the grass, and their white robes caught the long radiance of the Moon.............. and their spears shivered with silver flames. And now sorrow and..... has come upon the Elves, empty is Tavrobel and all are fled, [?fearing] the enemy that sitteth on the ruined heath, who is not a league away; whose hands are red with the blood of Elves and stained with the lives of his own kin, who has made himself an ally to Melko and the Lord of Hate, who has fought for the Orcs and Gongs and the unwholesome monsters of the world -- blind, and a fool, and destruction alone is his knowledge. The paths of the fairies he has made to dusty roads where thirst [?lags wearily] and no man greeteth another in the way, but passes by in sullenness. So fade the Elves and it shall come to be that because of the encompassing waters of this isle and yet more because of their unquenchable love for it that few shall flee, but as men wax there and grow fat and yet more blind ever shall they fade more and grow less and those of the after days shall scoff, saying Who are the fairies -- lies told to the children by women or foolish men -- who are these fairies? And some few shall answer: Memories faded dim, a wraith of vanishing loveliness in the trees, a rustle of the grass, a glint of dew, some subtle intonation of the wind; and others yet fewer shall say..... '
Very small and delicate are the fairies now, yet we have eyes to see and ears to hear, and Tavrobel and Kortirion are filled yet with [? this] sweet folk Spring knows them and Summer too and in Winter still are they among us, but in Autumn most of all do they come out, for Autumn is: their season, fallen as they are upon the Autumn of their days. What shall the dreamers of the earth be like when their winter come. Hark 0 my brothers, they shall say, the little trumpets blow; wc, hear a sound of instruments unimagined small. Like strands of wind, like mystic half-transparencies, Gilfanon Lord of Tavrobel rides out tonight amid his folk, and hunts the elfin deer beneath the paling sky. A music of forgotten feet, a gleam of leaves, a sudden bending of the grass," and wistful voices murmuring on the bridge, and they are gone. But behold, Tavrobel shall not know its name, and all the land be changed, and even these written words of mine belike will all be lost; and so I lay down the pen, and so of the fairies cease to tell. Another text that bears on these matters is the prose preface to Kortirion among the Trees (1915), which has been given in Part I 25 -- 6, but which I repeat here: (9) Now on a time the fairies dwelt in the Lonely Isle after the great wars with Melko and the ruin of Gondolin; and they builded a fair city amidmost of that island, and it was girt with trees. Now this city they called Kortirion, both in memory of their ancient dwelling of Kor in Valinor, and because this city stood also upon a hill and had a great tower tall and grey that Ingil son of Inwe their lord let raise.
Very beautiful was Kortirion and the fairies loved it, and it became rich in song and poesy and the light of laughter; but on a time the great Faring Forth was made, and the fairies had rekindled once more the Magic Sun of Valinor but for the treason and faint hearts of Men. But so it is that the Magic Sun is dead and the Lonely Isle drawn back unto the confines of the Great Lands, and the fairies are scattered through all the wide unfriendly path- ways of the world; and now Men dwell even on this faded isle, and care nought or know nought of its ancient days. Yet still there be some of the Eldar and the Noldoli of old who linger in the island, and their songs are heard about the shores of the land that once was the fairest dwelling of the immortal folk. And it seems to the fairies and it seems to me who know that town and have often trodden its disfigured ways that autumn and the falling of the leaf is the season of the year when maybe here or there a heart among Men may be open, and an eye perceive how is the world's estate fallen from the laughter and the loveliness of old.
Think on Kortirion and be sad -- yet is there not hope? * At this point we may turn to the history of Eriol himself. My father's early conceptions of the mariner who came to Tol Eressea are here again no more than allusive outlines in the pages of the little notebook C, and some of this material cannot be usefully reproduced. Perhaps the earliest is collection of notes headed 'Story of Eriol's Life', which I gave in Vol.
I. 23 -- 4 but with the omission of some features that were not there relevant. I repeat it here, with the addition of the statements previously omitted. (10) Eriol's original name was Ottor, but he called himself Waefre (Old English: 'restless, wandering') and lived a life on the waters. His father was named Eoh (Old English: 'horse'); and Eoh was slain by his brother Beorn, either 'in the siege' or 'in a great battle'. Ottor Waefre settled on the island of Heligoland in the North Sea, and wedded a woman named Cwen; they had two sons named Hengest and Horsa 'to avenge Eoh'. Then sea-longing gripped Ottor Waefre (he was 'a son of Earendel', born under his beam), and after the death of Cwen he left his young children. Hengest and Horsa avenged Eoh and became great chieftains; but Ottor Waefre set out to seek, and find, Tol Eressea (se uncupa holm, 'the unknown island'). In Tol Eressea he wedded, being made young by limpe (here also called by the Old English word lip), Naimi (Eadgifu), niece of Vaire, and they had a son named Heorrenda.
It is then said, somewhat inconsequentially (though the matter is in itself of much interest, and recurs nowhere else), that Eriol told the fairies of Woden, punor, Tiw, etc. (these being the Old English names of the Germanic gods who in Old Scandinavian form are Odinn, Porr, Tyr), and they identified them with Manweg, Tulkas, and a third whose name is illegible but is not like that of any of the great Valar. Eriol adopted the name of Angol. Thus it is that through Eriol and his sons the Engle (i.e. the English) have the true tradition of the fairies, of whom the Iras and the Wealas (the Irish and Welsh) tell garbled things. Thus a specifically English fairy-lore is born, and one more true than anything to be found in Celtic lands. The wedding of Eriol in Tol Eressea is never referred to elsewhere; but his son Heorrenda is mentioned (though not called Eriol's son) in the initial link to The Fall of Gondolin (p. 145) as one who afterwards turned a song of Meril's maidens into the language of his people. A little more light will be shed on Heorrenda in the course of this chapter. Associated with these notes is a title-page and a prologue that breaks off after a few lines: (11) The Golden Book of Heorrenda being the book of the Tales of Tavrobel. Heorrenda of Haegwudu.
This book have I written using those writings that my father Waefre (whom the Gnomes named after the regions of his home Angol) did make in his sojourn in the holy isle in the days of the Elves; and much else have I added of those things which his eyes saw not afterward; yet are such things not yet to tell. For know Here then the Golden Book was compiled from Eriol's writings by his son Heorrenda -- in contrast to (5), where it was compiled by someone unnamed, and in contrast also to the Epilogue (8), where Eriol himself concluded and 'sealed the book'. As I have said earlier (I. 24) Angol refers to the ancient homeland of the 'English' before their migration across the North Sea (for the etymology of Angol/Eriol 'ironcliffs' see I. 24, 252). (12) There is also a genealogical table accompanying the outline (10) md altogether agreeing with it. The table is written out in two forms that are identical save in one point: for Beorn, brother of Eoh, in the one, there stands in the other Hasen of Isenora (Old English: 'iron shore').