12. Flight to the Ford
Frodo lies in the grass among the trees in a forest, poisoned by the Morgul blade. “Morgul” means black magic,[1] and it is not surprising that the henchmen of the Terrible Mother would use such methods. (Note in this context that the leader of the Ringwraiths, who attacks Frodo, is called the "Witch-king.") The black magic causes Frodo to slowly transform into a wraith, weaker than the Ringwraiths and thus in their power. Once again, we see that the Terrible Mother does not kill but ensnares, paralyzes, and/or dissolves.
So Frodo has her poison in his body, like one stung by a sting. (This image recurs, intensified, in the encounter with Shelob.) Aragorn, who has declared his readiness to die for this unassuming hobbit, leaves the camp and returns with healing herbs, which he brews and uses to bathe Frodo’s wound. He is, therefore, a healer. The king as healer is an archetypal image we recognize from, for example, English and French legends, but the tradition stretches far back to preliterate cultures.[2] Toward the end of the book, as Aragorn’s coronation approaches, this quality is central. But in any case, Aragorn can only alleviate Frodo’s wound, as this “poison” or “evil,” as Aragorn calls it (in contrast to, say, a “wound”), is so powerful that it surpasses his ability. Frodo must reach Elrond in Rivendell before the Terrible Mother’s poison drags him into her dark, dissolving world.
Aragorn says that Frodo must be kept warm, always close to the fire when they make camp. We see that the Terrible Mother operates through coldness, paralysis, and death, while Gandalf-Aragorn represents their opposites: warmth, energy, and life – unconsciousness versus consciousness. This conflict, as we see, is highly dangerous, and from a psychological perspective, it cannot be ultimately resolved by one side defeating the other but only through the union of opposites. (That is still a long way off.) The feminine, represented by the Terrible Mother, is, of course, not inherently evil, just as the masculine is not inherently good; rather, the feminine appears dark, frightening, and dangerous because it has been repressed, made unconscious, while the masculine is experienced as a familiar protector and thus positive. Had the masculine been repressed for a thousand years, it would instead appear evil and repulsive when it emerged before the one-sided gaze of consciousness. We caught a glimpse of this very dynamic when the Black Riders – “the grown men” – appeared in the Mother’s world, the Shire, as something deeply unpleasant with beastly traits. Later in the saga, we will repeatedly encounter representatives of the Tyrannical Father, such as Saruman and Denethor, while the story strives for balance, and mature, human female figures emerge.
This reminds us – why does the Black Rider wound Frodo in the shoulder, of all possible body parts? It is because the shoulder symbolizes masculine capability; it expresses strength and power. If the shoulders are injured, one cannot use one’s arms – one cannot work, fight, or physically affect one’s surroundings; one becomes weak, almost paralyzed, and in need of care. The Terrible Mother “wants” Frodo to become incapable, unconscious, and to sink into her underworld.
The witch-goddess Hecate, according to Greek mythology, is a phantom goddess who sends out her specters and is sometimes depicted riding a horse. She is the patroness of riders and the one behind nightmarish apparitions.[3] Our understanding of the Black Riders as emissaries of the Terrible Mother finds its counterpart in this and other mythological references; that is, it is an archetypal image that is by no means unique to The Lord of the Rings.
Days pass as the hobbits, led by Aragorn, journey eastward toward Rivendell. Frodo rides the pony, which otherwise serves as a pack animal, for he can no longer walk long distances; the paralyzing evil continues to spread its cold through his body.
In an earlier text, we discussed various situations in the saga (the Shire, the Old Forest, the Barrow-downs, Bree, and Weathertop) as archetypal images or themes that, so to speak, pass into one another, following the psychological experience that “one thing leads to another,” as we have touched upon before. The mountain peak of Weathertop, with its masculine imagery of height, stone, and crown, is now followed by the Ford, characterized by descent, earth, and water. Thus, we have something of a transition from the masculine to the feminine ahead, and rivers that must be crossed represent, more than anything, a transition from one state to another. For Frodo, it is a matter of life or death (or even undeath): if he does not cross the ford, he will fall into Mordor’s clutches, which means the final dissolution of the ego; but if he crosses, he retains his consciousness and individuality. In other words, it is a profoundly serious situation, which Tolkien does justice to; though the episode is relatively short, the events at the Ford constitute one of the most dramatic moments in the entire book.
We need to explore the symbolism of the river a little before we return to the company and its encounter with the elf Glorfindel. This figure, in our reading, belongs to the river. As an archetypal image, the river that must be crossed represents a transformation from one (psychological) state to another. This is almost always fraught with danger; it is in the nature of the thing. In tales and legends, something decisive typically happens in connection with a river crossing.
Even in The Hobbit, the company must cross a river. It is in Mirkwood, and the river they must cross is enchanted. Anyone who falls into the water falls asleep! So we see the strong connection between the flow of water and the Great Mother. When some in Bilbo’s company make it to the other side, something strange happens: a stag comes rushing, knocks down a couple of dwarves, leaps over the river, and lands on the other side (where the company came from), where Thorin shoots it. We won’t go into details here, but it’s worth noting that the stag emerges from the darkness the company is heading into. The stag is often a soul-guide, a mediator between the conscious and the unconscious. But this forest spirit is incompatible with the coarse dwarves, who belong to stone and mountain, which is why it seems panicked when they cross the river and wants to escape the place the dwarves are heading toward. Then the leader shoots the animal. This is ominous. Just as in Frodo’s saga, Bilbo’s river crossing leads to the elves, but likely because they shoot the stag, it does not, as in Frodo’s story, result in a clearly positive development; instead, Bilbo and the dwarves end up in the elves’ prison. We recall this sequence in The Hobbit because it underscores the symbolic content of the river and its Ford – transition, danger, and the mother archetype.
Now to Glorfindel, who comes to meet the company. He rides from the Ford but also speaks of the bridge to the west, which the company has already passed, where he drove off three Black Riders. Thus, we see that two specific places are associated with Glorfindel, both describing a river crossing (bridge and ford). In this way, the elf belongs to the river imagery, which is fitting since, as an elf, he represents the mother archetype. He also says – in line with what was said above about river crossings – that “the danger will be greatest when we reach the river.” (Why this is so is not explained, but it aligns with the saga’s symbolic content.) He lends Frodo his white steed and leads the company to the Ford. On the other side, they see mountains for the first time, the Misty Mountains. Somewhere there lies Elrond’s elven stronghold, Rivendell, in line with the mother imagery in a “cleft.” To leave the masculine world that Aragorn represents and reach the feminine world that Elrond represents, they need this elf, Glorfindel, who – like Elrond – represents the river/mother.
“Fly! The enemy is upon us!” he cries. Five Black Riders come thundering behind them. But Frodo, sitting on Glorfindel’s horse, hesitates; something holds him back – namely, the Ring and, through it, the bond to the Ringwraiths. Glorfindel urges the horse to flee with Frodo, and it takes off. At the same time, two riders come from the north and two from the south, to attack and intercept Frodo, respectively.
For the first time, all nine riders are gathered, and then they are at their most powerful (in the sense that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts). We have seen how the number three recurs throughout the story. It is a dynamic, masculine number, as mentioned earlier, but it is also tied to time and fate (past, present, and future; birth, life, and death; the three Norns, the three Moirai, and so on). Nine is a tripling of three, making the number extraordinarily potent, carrying not only the sense of fate but also necessity and fulfillment (like the nine months of pregnancy).[4] No one can resist necessity, not even Glorfindel and Aragorn.
At the last possible moment, the horse reaches the other side, where the bank is brown with earth; that is, Frodo has entered the domain of the Great Mother. The riders line up on the other side. It’s a pity to ruin the legendary scene, but there is still – with a rational perspective – a peculiarity in what happens next. The riders say, “Come back! Come back! We will take you to Mordor.” But, one wonders again, isn’t it the Ring they are supposed to take back to Mordor? Just as at Weathertop, Frodo seems to be the object of their hunt, not the Ring. At Weathertop, the Ringwraith didn’t even reach for Frodo’s Ring, though it was within reach; instead, he poisoned him and left empty-handed. Similarly, Aragorn says he is ready to die for Frodo’s sake. From a rational perspective, Frodo could just as well hand the Ring to Merry and go home himself. Or if Frodo dies along the way, Aragorn could take the Ring to Rivendell, where the subsequent council could unfold in much the same way even if Frodo were not there.
This fixation on Frodo as an individual stems from the fact that he represents consciousness. The saga is largely about the risk of its extinction at the hands of an archetype, in the chaos of the collective unconscious where the ego is “torn to pieces.” It is this hateful light, this rebellious individuality, that the Black Riders, in the service of the Terrible Mother, seek to extinguish. And that is what Aragorn means when he implies that Frodo, as a person, is more important than his own life – despite being the king whose coronation will set the world right. For if Frodo dies, if consciousness is extinguished, Aragorn no longer exists; he too would sink into the underworld and become a spirit among others, without purpose or meaning. Frodo represents the light of consciousness, which, in union with the relatively unconscious content that Aragorn represents, redeems the masculine symbol (the broken sword is reforged in Rivendell). As Jung often says, the unconscious needs the conscious just as much as the conscious needs the unconscious; that, in a nutshell, is the “union of opposites” he wrote so much about in the latter part of his life.[5]
But then the Black Riders say, “The Ring! The Ring!” almost as if it dawns on them that the Ring was the pretext for hunting Frodo.
The riders have stopped at the water, for it represents the Good Mother, purification, renewal, and so on – qualities they naturally shun. But now the leader rides out into the ford, and others follow. When all nine are gathered, one might imagine, they can even manage this. Frodo waves his sword and says they shall have neither the Ring nor him. Then the leader rises in his stirrups and stretches his hand toward the hobbit, whereupon Frodo’s sword from the Barrow-downs breaks in two and falls to the ground. The Terrible Mother’s emissary breaks Frodo’s manhood, and there is nothing he can do about it; he has been so weakened by her poison.
But then a tremendous floodwave comes and sweeps the riders away. Before Frodo passes out, he thinks he sees flames on the white crests, and the floodwave takes the form of charging horses – that is, it represents tremendous energy. Elrond in the elven stronghold, this powerful representative of the Good Mother, controls the river and unleashes this floodwave (while the fire and horses are Gandalf’s addition, as he represents, among other things, the flame or daimon of creativity).
The first book ends with the following remarkable sentence: “Then Frodo felt himself falling, and the roar and confusion seemed to rise and engulf him along with his enemies.” From the underworld rises the confusion, the chaos that the Terrible Mother represents, to engulf Frodo. He is on the verge of meeting the same fate as the Ringwraiths; they nearly take him back to Mordor’s darkness. Only because Frodo crossed the river and gained the proximity to Elrond and Rivendell does the saga continue in the next book. But it was very close to him being engulfed at last – and then it would all have been over, even for Aragorn. There would have been no consciousness left to register the world and the beings that populate it, thus giving them life, purpose, and meaning.
“I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn; and if by life or death I can save you, I will.”
Footnotes
[1] "Tolkien Gateway," accessed July 5, 2025, https://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Morgul. (The saga itself does not specify what "Morgul" means.)
[2] Frazer, Den gyllene grenen, p. 113f.
[3] Jung, Symbols of Transformation, par. 369.
[4] Sigurd Agrell, Runornas Talmystik: ett bidrag till den nordiska runmagiens historia, facsimile ed. (Malmö: Psychic Release, 1990), p. 70ff.
[5] This is the main subject of Mysterium Coniunctionis.