I am happy to post this interview what is binary option with author Benita J. Prins, fellow lover of all things Tolkien and a great writer in her own right too! I read her fantasy, Sea of Crystal, Sea of Glass recently and recommend … Continue reading
The Ringwraiths are often remembered as faceless riders in black, their cries carrying across the Shire, the wilderness and the riverlands of Middle-earth. Yet their horses are essential to the shape of the pursuit. Without those animals, the Nazgûl would remain terrifying servants of Sauron, but they would lack the speed, reach and physical presence needed to close the distance between the Shire and Rivendell.
J.R.R. Tolkien gives the steeds a role that is practical, symbolic and atmospheric. They carry the Ringwraiths through country where ordinary travellers must walk, allowing the hunt to operate across roads, fields and open ground. At the same time, their unnatural behaviour makes the riders appear less like mounted soldiers and more like an affliction spreading through the landscape.
For readers in Australia, where long distances and the difference between a sealed road and a rough bush track are everyday realities, the importance of transport in a chase can feel especially immediate. A rider who can change horses, cross country and travel through the night has a very different reach from someone on foot. Tolkien understands this physical fact and turns it into one of the most unsettling features of Frodo’s flight.
The black horses give the Nazgûl a mobility that Frodo and his companions cannot match. Frodo begins his journey slowly, first on foot and later by ordinary pony or horse, while the Ringwraiths can advance with purpose along the roads leading east. Their mounts make the hunt a matter of time and distance rather than a series of isolated encounters. Every delay at a farm, ferry or village gives the riders another advantage.
This is especially clear during the journey from Hobbiton towards Bree. The riders do not need to search every hedgerow by hand. They can spread out, patrol roads and appear suddenly where the travellers expect safety. Their horses let them move as a coordinated group, creating the impression that the whole countryside is being watched. The suspense comes partly from the knowledge that a hoofbeat in the dark may belong to an enemy who has covered many miles while the hobbits have barely moved.
The animals also provide a form of endurance. The Nazgûl themselves are supernatural beings who do not tire in the manner of living men, but their pursuit still requires a physical means of travel. The horses translate the riders’ otherworldly persistence into something visible. Their speed turns an invisible threat into an approaching sound: hooves on a road, a dark shape between trees, or a rider waiting at a gate.
Tolkien’s black steeds are not merely fast horses painted in the colours of villainy. Their connection with the Ringwraiths makes them seem corrupted by proximity to the servants of Sauron. They are difficult to separate from the terror of the riders, and their presence announces danger before the Nazgûl can be clearly seen. The animal becomes part of the enemy’s identity.
This is a significant choice because horses usually carry associations of nobility, partnership and freedom in heroic literature. The Rohirrim later embody these qualities through their bond with their mounts. The Nazgûl’s horses invert that relationship. They are instruments under domination, used to extend the reach of powers that have already surrendered their own identities. Their obedience feels sinister rather than loyal.
The distinction between the black horses and the later winged creatures is also important. The horses belong to the early stages of the search, when the Ringwraiths operate as mounted hunters moving through the ordinary geography of Middle-earth. After the flood at the Ford of Bruinen destroys their mounts, the story shifts into a more openly supernatural register. The change in steeds marks an escalation in the hunt.
Tolkien makes the horses part of the sensory texture of fear. Before a rider is visible, there may be a rhythmic noise on the road or a disturbance in the darkness. The sound is recognisable enough to suggest an ordinary traveller, yet threatening enough to transform the familiar into something hostile. This is how the steeds help turn the Shire’s lanes and Bree’s approaches into places of uncertainty.
Australian readers may recognise the power of that technique in a different setting. A vehicle approaching on a quiet country road, a horse moving beyond a fence at dusk, or tyres on gravel outside an isolated property can carry a strong sense of presence. In the bush, sound often travels ahead of sight. Tolkien uses the same principle in a medieval-fantasy landscape, allowing the horses to announce danger before the Ringwraiths emerge.
Their movement also changes the emotional scale of the journey. Frodo’s route is measured by walking pace, meals and rest, while the enemy’s progress is measured by the relentless advance of hooves. That contrast makes the hobbits seem small and exposed. They are not simply travelling towards a destination; they are trying to remain ahead of a force that can cover the ground with unnatural efficiency.
The hunt for Frodo depends on roads, crossings and defensible places. A mounted pursuer can use the Great East Road and approach settlements quickly, while a group travelling on foot must think carefully about bridges, ferries and shelter. The horses therefore connect the Ringwraiths to the map of Middle-earth. They make geography a weapon.
At the Brandywine, the Black Riders’ arrival is tied to the problem of crossing. The ferry gives Frodo and his friends a narrow margin of safety, while the pursuit presses close behind. A horse can carry a rider to the riverbank with speed, but it cannot erase every obstacle. Water, gates and guarded passages temporarily interrupt the hunt. These limits keep the chase tense: the steeds are powerful, yet the landscape still offers moments of resistance.
The journey through the Shire also shows that horses can make an enemy more conspicuous. The riders’ mounts are associated with roads and bridges, and their unnatural appearance draws attention from ordinary people. Their presence creates rumours and unease among farmers, innkeepers and travellers. The pursuit becomes a social disturbance, spreading fear beyond Frodo’s immediate circle.
This pattern would feel familiar to anyone who has travelled between Australian towns where a single road, bridge or service station becomes a significant point on the route. Long-distance travel concentrates movement around practical locations. Tolkien uses that reality to make the chase believable. The Ringwraiths are supernatural, but they still need routes through a physical world.
The contrast between the Ringwraiths’ horses and the hobbits’ mounts deserves close attention. Frodo’s pony is associated with ordinary kindness and companionship, particularly through the care of the people of Bree. It carries burdens and helps the travellers continue when walking becomes difficult. Its role belongs to the fellowship of creatures that assist the vulnerable.
The Black Riders’ horses represent the opposite principle. They do not make travel easier for a community; they concentrate power in the hands of an enemy. Their speed serves pursuit rather than shared movement. Tolkien sets these forms of transport against each other to show the moral difference between fellowship and domination.
The pony also helps keep the story grounded. Even in a world of enchanted rings and ancient kings, journeys require food, animals and rest. A frightened or exhausted mount can affect the outcome of an adventure. For Frodo, escape is never purely a matter of courage. He relies on the practical help of animals and people whose contributions may seem small beside the great history of the Ring.
That attention to ordinary logistics is one reason Tolkien’s fantasy remains persuasive. Readers who know the realities of distance in Australia, from a Melbourne book event reached by tram and train to a long drive between regional towns, understand that movement consumes time and energy. The horses make the Ringwraiths’ advantage concrete rather than abstract.
When the black horses are lost at Rivendell’s river, the Ringwraiths do not disappear from the story. They return with winged mounts, and the character of the pursuit changes. The horses had allowed them to act within the familiar structures of roads and settlements. The flying creatures remove many of those restrictions, giving the Nazgûl a new relationship with height, distance and visibility.
This change also reflects Frodo’s movement into greater danger. Earlier, the enemy can be resisted by gates, rivers and guarded paths. Later, the Ringwraiths can search from above and attack locations that seemed protected by terrain. The steed is now less a vehicle for a rider on a road than an extension of predatory power. The hunt has become broader, faster and harder to evade.
Yet the earlier horses remain crucial because they establish the Nazgûl as hunters before they become aerial monsters. Their first appearance is grounded in the physical world. The reader hears and senses them as riders who can be delayed, misdirected or blocked. That limited form of threat makes the later transformation more alarming.
For readers exploring Tolkien beyond the most familiar plot summaries, the role of the steeds opens a useful path into his craft. The animals connect symbolism with travel, atmosphere with geography, and supernatural menace with the practical demands of a journey. Anne Marie Gazzolo’s Tolkien reflections offer a fitting place to consider this kind of detail, where a seemingly secondary element reveals how carefully Middle-earth is built.
The Ringwraiths’ horses therefore do more than carry villains from one scene to the next. They give the hunt its rhythm, establish the enemy’s reach and make fear audible in the dark. Their black forms belong to the roads and fields of the early quest, while their replacement by winged steeds signals the breaking of ordinary boundaries. Through them, Tolkien shows that the success of a pursuit depends as much on movement through the world as on the power of the pursuer.
An essay I wrote about the desire of Tolkien and the TCBS to be a light to their darkening world. A century later, he still provides light. Thank you, Professor and God trade binary option bless! Art by Justin Gerard … Continue reading