they chose from their own chiefs a Thain to hold the authority of the king
that was gone. There for a thousand years they were little troubled by wars,
and they prospered and multiplied after the Dark Plague (S.R. 37) until the
disaster of the Long Winter and the famine that followed it. Many thousands
then perished, but the Days of Dearth (1158-60) were at the time of this tale
long past and the Hobbits had again become accustomed to plenty. The land was
rich and kindly, and though it had long been deserted when they entered it, it
had before been well tilled, and there the king had once had many farms,
cornlands, vineyards, and woods.
Forty leagues it stretched from the Far Downs to the Brandywine Bridge,
and fifty from the northern moors to the marshes in the south. The Hobbits
named it the Shire, as the region of the authority of their Thain, and a
district of well-ordered business; and there in that pleasant comer of the
world they plied their well-ordered business of living, and they heeded less
and less the world outside where dark things moved, until they came to think
that peace and plenty were the rule in Middle-earth and the right of all
sensible folk. They forgot or ignored what little they had ever known of the
Guardians, and of the labours of those that made possible the long peace of
the Shire. They were, in fact, sheltered, but they had ceased to remember it.
At no time had Hobbits of any kind been warlike, and they had never
fought among themselves. In olden days they had, of course, been often obliged
to fight to maintain themselves in a hard world; but in Bilbo's time that was
very ancient history. The last battle, before this story opens, and indeed the
only one that had ever been fought within the borders of the Shire, was beyond
living memory: the Battle of Greenfields, S.R. 1147, in which Bandobras Took
routed an invasion of Orcs. Even the weathers had grown milder, and the wolves
that had once come ravening out of the North in bitter white winters were now
only a grandfather's tale. So, though there was still some store of weapons in
the Shire, these were used mostly as trophies, hanging above hearths or on
walls, or gathered into the museum at Michel Delving. The Mathom-house it was
called; for anything that Hobbits had no immediate use for, but were unwilling
to throw away, they called a _mathom_. Their dwellings were apt to become
rather crowded with mathoms, and many of the presents that passed from hand to
hand were of that son.
Nonetheless, ease and peace had left this people still curiously tough.
They were, if it came to it, difficult to daunt or to kill; and they were,
perhaps, so unwearyingly fond of good things not least because they could,
when put to it, do without them, and could survive rough handling by grief,
foe, or weather in a way that astonished those who did not know them well and
looked no further than their bellies and their well-fed faces. Though slow to
quarrel, and for sport killing nothing that lived, they were doughty at bay,
and at need could still handle arms. They shot well with the bow, for they
were keen-eyed and sure at the mark. Not only with bows and arrows. If any
Hobbit stooped for a stone, it was well to get quickly under cover, as all
trespassing beasts knew very well.
All Hobbits had originally lived in holes in the ground, or so they
believed, and in such dwellings they still felt most at home; but in the
course of time they had been obliged to adopt other forms of abode. Actually
in the Shire in Bilbo's days it was, as a rule, only the richest and the
poorest Hobbits that maintained the old custom. The poorest went on living in
burrows of the most primitive kind, mere holes indeed, with only one window or
none; while the well-to-do still constructed more luxurious versions of the
simple diggings of old. But suitable sites for these large and ramifying
tunnels (or _smials_ as they called them) were not everywhere to be found; and
in the flats and the low-lying districts the Hobbits, as they multiplied,
began to build above ground. Indeed, even in the hilly regions and the older
villages, such as Hobbiton or Tuckborough, or in the chief township of the
Shire, Michel Delving on the White Downs, there were now many houses of wood,
brick, or stone. These were specially favoured by millers, smiths, ropers, and
cartwrights, and others of that sort; for even when they had holes to live in.