Death of Smaug

The death of Smaug is the decisive reversal of the quest, transforming the dwarves' seemingly hopeless venture into a struggle over the now-unclaimed treasure. Until this moment, the dragon had been an absolute, immovable obstacle; his fall removes that obstacle but instantly creates new ones, as the news of his death draws armies of elves, men, and goblins to the Lonely Mountain. The event is also the culmination of Bilbo Baggins's secret reconnaissance, for it was his discovery of the bare patch in Smaug's armour, passed by the old thrush to Bard, that made the killing possible.

The Dragon's Wrath and the Attack on Esgaroth

Two nights after Smaug smashed the secret door and flew off in rage, the men of Esgaroth were mostly indoors, for a chill breeze blew from the black East. A few watchers on the quays saw a brief glow touch the distant peak of the Lonely Mountain and fade. Some speculated that the King under the Mountain was forging gold; a grim-voiced man retorted that it was the marauding fire of the dragon. Then a great light appeared in the low place in the hills, and the northern end of the Long Lake turned golden. The people shouted that the river was running gold from the Mountain, but the grim-voiced man ran hotfoot to the Master of Lake-town, crying that the dragon was coming and ordering the bridges cut. Warning trumpets sounded along the rocky shores, and the joy turned to dread. Every vessel in the town was filled with water, every warrior was armed, and the bridge to the land was thrown down and destroyed before Smaug's terrible approach grew loud and the lake rippled red beneath the beating of his wings. The dragon swept over the town and was foiled by the missing bridge; his enemies were on an island in deep water, too deep and cool for his liking. Roaring, he swept back, and a hail of dark arrows leaped up and rattled on his scales and jewels, their shafts falling back kindled by his breath. No one had dared to give battle to him for many an age; they would not have dared now but for the grim-voiced man, Bard, who ran to and fro cheering on the archers and urging the Master to order them to fight to the last arrow.

The Bowman's Last Shot

Fire leaped from the dragon's jaws. He circled high in the air, lighting all the lake, then swooped straight through the arrow-storm, reckless in his rage, seeking only to set the town ablaze. Fire leaped from thatched roofs and wooden beam-ends as he hurtled down and past and round again. A sweep of his tail crumbled the roof of the Great House; flames unquenchable sprang high into the night. Men jumped into the water on every side; women and children were huddled into boats; the Master himself turned to his great gilded boat, hoping to row away in the confusion. Soon all the town would be deserted and burned down to the surface of the lake. But a company of archers held their ground among the burning houses, their captain Bard, a descendant in long line of Girion, Lord of Dale. He shot with a great yew bow till all his arrows but one were spent. Suddenly an old thrush fluttered to his shoulder and, unafraid, perched by his ear, bringing him news. Marvelling, Bard found he could understand its tongue, for he was of the race of Dale. The thrush told him to wait for the rising moon and look for the hollow of the left breast as the dragon flew and turned above him. Bard drew his bow-string to his ear. The dragon circled back, flying low, and as he came the moon rose above the eastern shore and silvered his great wings. Bard spoke to his last black arrow, saved from his father and from of old, bidding it speed well if ever it came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain. The dragon swooped lower than ever, and as he turned and dived down his belly glittered white with sparkling gems in the moon—but not in one place. The great bow twanged; the black arrow sped straight for the hollow by the left breast where the foreleg was flung wide. In it smote and vanished, barb, shaft and feather, so fierce was its flight. With a shriek that deafened men, felled trees and split stone, Smaug shot spouting into the air, turned over and crashed down from on high in ruin. Full on the town he fell; his last throes splintered it to sparks and gledes. The lake roared in; a vast steam leaped up, white in the sudden dark under the moon. There was a hiss, a gushing whirl, and then silence. That was the end of Smaug and Esgaroth, but not of Bard.

Aftermath and the Gathering of Hosts

The waxing moon rose higher, the wind grew loud and cold, driving the white fog off to the West. The many boats could be seen dotted dark on the surface of the lake, and down the wind came the voices of the people of Esgaroth lamenting their lost town. Three quarters of the people had escaped alive; their woods, fields, cattle, and most of their boats remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead. Their first complaints and anger were against the Master, who had left the town so soon. They praised the courage of Bard and his last mighty shot, believing him lost. Then a tall figure stepped from the shadows, drenched with water, his black hair wet over his face and shoulders, a fierce light in his eyes. Bard declared himself alive and the slayer of the dragon. The people shouted "King Bard! King Bard!" but the Master ground his chattering teeth, arguing that Girion was lord of Dale, not king of Esgaroth, and that the wise would stay to rebuild the town. The Master deflected the people's anger toward Thorin and his company, asking who had aroused the dragon and brought ruin. Bard, however, took the lead, ordering the camps and caring for the sick and wounded. He sent messengers up the river to the Forest to ask the aid of the Elvenking, who had already heard the news from his own messengers and the birds. The Elvenking, who had not forgotten the legend of the wealth of Thror, was already marching with many spearmen and bowmen. He turned his march down the river to the Long Lake, sending great store of goods ahead by water. Only five days after the death of the dragon, his host came upon the shores and looked on the ruins of the town. Plans were soon made: the Master remained behind with the women, children, and craftsmen to build a new town, while all the men of arms and most of the Elvenking's array prepared to march north to the Mountain. In eleven days from the ruin of the town, the head of their host passed the rock-gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands. The death of Smaug thus set in motion the siege of the Mountain and the confrontation that would culminate in the Battle of Five Armies.