translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2001-2008
and other folktales of Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 955
translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2001-2008
Once upon a time there were a man and a woman to whom the dear Lord had given a wonderfully beautiful daughter. The parents and the child prayed, and worked, and lived good and wholesome lives.
One day when the daughter had just reached her fifteenth year a splendid carriage drove up to their little hut. A distinguished gentleman emerged from it and said to the parents, "Do you not have a daughter whom I could marry?"
"No," was the answer. "To be sure, we do have a daughter, but she should not get married yet."
However, the gentleman would not accept this response. He had his horses unhitched, and he stayed there for three days. During these three days he was so pious and polite, and furthermore he had so much money and other valuables, that he won the mother's approval already on the first day, on the second day that of the daughter, and finally on the third day that of the father as well.
The father had repeatedly said to his wife, "I do not have a good feeling about this!" but she made him feel good about it, knowing how to coax him with sweet words into giving his approval.
As evening of the third day approached they took leave of their daughter, and asked the distinguished gentleman to take good care of her. He promised to do so, as he hurried away with his beautiful bride.
Now this distinguished gentleman was in truth a wild robber and cannibal. On their way he told the poor child nothing but horror stories, and when he pulled her from his carriage, he said to her, laughing, "Would you prefer to be boiled in oil or cooked in water? You are a delicious morsel, and because I am so fond of you, I will give you your choice."
The terrified bride could not answer, and the cannibal pushed her into a cave, saying further, "Ask the dear Lord to give you a good idea, and during the night prepare yourself to die!" Then he went into an adjoining cave.
When the girl came to her senses, she heard a terrible commotion in the next cave. The robber was beating his housekeeper, who in turn was scolding and scratching him. Now she was an old witch. She became very angry when he brought home a young girl, and for this she received a good beating. That is how the two of them behaved.
That night the cannibal slept by himself in his cave, and the old witch stayed with the young bride. The latter, however, did not close her eyes, but instead prayed and wept continuously. The old witch was upset that she was not able to sleep. She was also somewhat touched and still angry with the cannibal. At last she croaked, "Stop your whimpering! Just what did that beast tell you?"
The girl answered, "He asked me if I would prefer to be boiled in oil or cooked in water."
The witch laughed and replied, "And you have no desire for either one, you poor little fool!"
This sounded so heartless that it blocked the poor girl's throat.
"Don't be so sensitive!" the old hag continued, when she received no answer. "Do you want me to tickle you?" And she scratched the girl until she cried out loudly. "You have a very good voice!" scoffed the witch, then continued, "What I am about to tell you is thanks to that ruthless tyrant's blows. Tomorrow morning when he asks you, answer that you would prefer to be cooked in water. Then you yourself will have to carry the water, for he is too proud to do so himself. I will pretend to be sick. When you reach the well, take off your clothes and put them on the well-pole as though you were dressing a real person, then hide yourself in the hollow tree, the seventh tree on the right-hand side of the path. Now give me some peace, or I myself will divulge the plan."
Very early the next morning the cannibal came into the cave, and when the girl answered his question by saying that she would prefer to be cooked in water, he kicked the witch with his foot and shouted, "Go get some water while I slaughter my little dove."
"Fetch your own water!" croaked the witch. "You have lamed both of my arms."
The cannibal cursed and ordered his bride, "Take this bucket and get some water so that I can cook you!"
She took the bucket, put her clothes onto the well-pole, and crept into the hollow tree.
When she did not return, the robber shouted, "Are you waiting for your sweetheart there at the well? Is that why you are standing there without moving? If you don't come back immediately, I will see to it that he comes to you!"
The pole did not pay the least attention to his scoffing, nor did it even turn around when the cannibal began to curse and threaten. When finally a shot from the cave hit the pole, it neither cried nor fell over.
"Is that girl bulletproof?" shouted the cannibal, took a broadsword and ran to the well.
How he seethed when he came closer and found the strange large doll!
Boiling with rage, he ran with a few leaps back into his cave, tied his sword around his waist, mounted his faithful steed, shouted to the witch, "Fill the pot with oil and bring it to a boil!" and hurried away, accompanied by a large bloodhound.
Soon he came to the hollow tree, where the dog stopped and barked and scratched. The robber drew his worthy sword and thrust it through the bark, cutting the maiden's right big toe. Bright blood flowed from it onto the sword, but when he pulled it out again, the blood had disappeared. So he rode on.
When the girl could no longer hear the galloping horse and the barking dog she climbed out of the tree and crept into a deep ditch, then covered herself with twigs.
A half hour later the angry robber returned. The dog stopped next to the ditch, and the robber thrust his sword into the twigs, cutting the same toe on its other side. Again blood flowed from it, but when he pulled back the sword, it was as clean as before.
The poor bride put her ear against the side of the ditch, and when she could no longer hear the earth trembling, she wearily climbed out and limped to the well in order to dress herself a little. She had just washed herself when the robber returned. Seeing her, he shouted loudly for joy. He had just pulled out his worthy sword in order to cut off her head, when a bullet came out of the woods and struck him down.
The prince had just been hunting in the vicinity, and he was the one who shot the cannibal. When he came nearer and saw the beautiful maiden, his heart burned with love for her. The robber was cursing and writhing in his own blood, and the prince had him thrown into the pot filled with oil.
He took the maiden back to his castle as his wife, and there they lived long and happily together.
Once upon a time there was a young lady called Lady Mary, who had two brothers. One summer they all three went to a country seat of theirs, which they had not before visited. Among the other gentry in the neighborhood who came to see them was a Mr. Fox, a bachelor, with whom they, particularly the young lady, were much pleased. He used often to dine with them, and frequently invited Lady Mary to come and see his house. One day that her brothers were absent elsewhere, and she had nothing better to do, she determined to go thither, and accordingly set out unattended. When she arrived at the house and knocked at the door, no one answered.
At length she opened it and went in; over the portal of the door was written: "Be bold, be bold, but not too bold." She advanced; over the staircase was the same inscription. She went up; over the entrance of a gallery, the same again. Still she went on, and over the door of a chamber found written:
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Be bold, be bold, but not too bold, |
A few days afterwards Mr. Fox came to dine with them as usual. After dinner the guests began to amuse each other with extraordinary anecdotes, and Lady Mary said she would relate to them a remarkable dream she had lately had.
"I dreamt," said she, "that as you, Mr. Fox, had often invited me to your house, I would go there one morning. When I came to the house I knocked at the door, but no one answered. When I opened the door, over the hall I saw written, 'Be bold, be bold, but not too bold.' But," said she, turning to Mr. Fox, and smiling, "It is not so, nor it was not so."
Then she pursued the rest of the story, concluding at every turn with, "It is not so, nor it was not so," until she came to the room full of skeletons, when Mr. Fox took up the burden of the tale, and said:
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It is not so, nor it was not so, |
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It is not so, nor it was not so, And God forbid it should be so! |
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But it is so, and it was so, |
Many years ago there lived at the University of Oxford a young student, who, having seduced the daughter of a tradesman, sought to conceal his crime by committing the more heinous one of murder. With this view, he made an appointment to meet her one evening in a secluded field.
She was at the rendezvous considerably before the time agreed upon for their meeting, and hid herself in a tree. The student arrived on the spot shortly afterwards, but what was the astonishment of the girl to observe that he commenced digging a grave. Her fears and suspicions were aroused, and she did not leave her place of concealment till the student, despairing of her arrival, returned to his college.
The next day, when she was at the door of her father's house, he passed and saluted her as usual.
She returned his greeting by repeating the following lines:
One moonshiny night, as I sat high,
Waiting for one to come by,
The boughs did bend; my heart did ache
To see what hole the fox did make.
Astounded by her unexpected knowledge of his base design, in a moment of fury he stabbed her to the heart.
This murder occasioned a violent conflict between the tradespeople and the students, the latter taking part with the murderer, and so fierce was the skirmish, that Brewer's Lane, it is said, ran down with blood. The place of appointment was adjoining the Divinity Walk, which was in time past far more secluded than at the present day, and she is said to have been buried in the grave made for her by her paramour.
According to another version of the tale, the name of the student was Fox, and a fellow student went with him to assist in digging the grave. The verses in this account differ somewhat from the above:
As I went out in a moonlight night,
I set my back against the moon,
I looked for one, and saw two come.
The boughs did bend, the leaves did shake,
I saw the hole the Fox did make.
Thinking that the girl had not yet come, the two men began to talk, and the girl heard her sweetheart say, "She will not come tonight. We'll go home now, and come back and kill her tomorrow night."
As soon as they had gone the girl came down the tree and ran home to her father. When she had told him what she had seen, the father pondered awhile and then said to his daughter, "We will have a feast and ask our friends, and we will ask thy sweetheart to come and the man that came with him to the tree."
So the two men came along with the other guests. In the evening they began to ask riddles of each other, but the girl who had got up the tree was the last to ask hers. She said:
I'll rede you a riddle, I'll rede it you right,When the two men who had intended to murder the girl heard this they ran out of the house.
Where was I last Saturday night?
The wind did blow, the leaves did shake,
When I saw the hole the fox did make.
The following variation occurs:One moonlight night as I sat high
Waiting for one but two came by,
The boughs did bend, my heart did quake
To see the hole the fox did make.
The old woman who acted as my cicerone, seeing me look at them, said, "Aye, miss, those are Bloody Baker's gloves; their red color comes from the blood he shed."
This speech awakened my curiosity to hear more, and with very little pressing I induced my old guide to tell me the following strange tale:
The baker family had formerly large possessions in Cranbrook, but in the reign of Edward VI great misfortunes fell on them; by extravagance and dissipation they gradually lost all their lands, until an old house in the village (now used as the poor- house) was all that remained to them.
The sole representative of the family remaining at the accession of Queen Mary was Sir Richard Baker. He had spent some years abroad in consequence of a duel; but when, said my informant, Bloody Queen Mary reigned, he thought he might safely return, as he was a Papist.
When he came to Cranbrook he took up his abode in his old house. He only brought one foreign servant with him, and these two lived alone. Very soon strange stories began to be whispered respecting unearthly shrieks having been heard frequently to issue at nightfall from his house. Many people of importance were stopped and robbed in the Glastonbury woods, and many unfortunate travelers were missed and never heard of more.
Richard Baker still continued to live in seclusion, but he gradually repurchased his alienated property, although he was known to have spent all he possessed before he left England.
But wickedness was not always to prosper. He formed an apparent attachment to a young lady in the neighborhood, remarkable for always wearing a great many jewels. He often pressed her to come and see his old house, telling her he had many curious things he wished to show her. She had always resisted fixing a day for her visit, but happening to walk within a short distance of his house, she determined to surprise him with a visit. Her companion, a lady older than herself, endeavored to dissuade her from doing so, but she would not be turned from her purpose. They knocked at the door, but no one answered them; they, however, discovered it was not locked, and determined to enter. At the head of the stairs hung a parrot, which, on their passing, cried out:
Peepoh, pretty lady, be not too bold,And cold did run the blood of the adventurous damsel when, on opening one of the room doors, she found it filled with the dead bodies of murdered persons, chiefly women.
Or your red blood will soon run cold.
Just then they heard a noise, and on looking out of the window saw Bloody Baker and his servant bringing in the murdered body of a lady. Nearly dead with fear, they concealed themselves in a recess under the staircase.
As the murderers with their dead burden passed by them, the hand of the unfortunate murdered lady hung in the baluster of the stairs. With an oath Bloody Baker chopped it off, and it fell into the lap of one of the concealed ladies. As soon as the murderers had passed by, the ladies ran away, having the presence of mind to carry with them the dead hand, on one of the fingers of which was a ring.
On reaching home they told their story, and in confirmation of it displayed the ring. All the families who had lost relatives mysteriously were then told of what had been found out, and they determined to ask Baker to a large party, apparently in a friendly manner, but to have constables concealed ready to take him into custody.
He came, suspecting nothing, and then the lady told him all she had seen, pretending it was a dream.
"Fair lady," said he, "dreams are nothing; they are but fables."
"They may be fables," said she; "but is this a fable?" and she produced the hand and ring.
Upon this the constables rushed in and took him; and the tradition further says, he was burnt, notwithstanding Queen Mary tried to save him, on account of the religion he professed.
She thinks it a pretty name; her elder sister a bad one.
Next evening she goes again. They eat, drink, and play cards. He leaves the room, and returns with a phial of blood.
"Is your blood as red as this?"
She pretends that he is jesting; but he cuts off her finger, opens the window, and throws it to the big dog, afterwards killing her.
The tale goes on, "Who got the finger? The elder sister got it."
It then explains how she had followed the pair by the track of the horse's feet, pacified the dog, and caught the finger (with ring on) thrown to him.
She desires her father to issue invitations to a dinner. Everyone comes and has to tell a tale or sing a song. On Laula's plate is placed nothing but this finger. When the elder sister tells her tale, he grows uneasy, and says he must go outside. He twice interrupts thus, but is restrained by the other gentlemen.
She gives him away, and at the old father's suggestion he is placed in a barrel filled with grease and burnt to death.
Once there was a poor orphan girl who worked as a servant at the house of a rich man. Her dearest companion was a little dog that her parents had given her before they died.
One day the chieftain of a robber band, disguised as an ordinary servant, came to the rich man's house and asked the girl to marry him. Sensing something sinister about him, the girl rejected the suitor's advances, so, with the assistance of his fellow robbers, he carried her away by force.
Now a prisoner in the robber's house, the girl still refused to marry him, in spite of his friendly words, his threats, and his abuse. Finally he gave up his attempts to win her love, and sold her to a wild and cruel innkeeper.
Now this innkeeper would rob travelers, kill them, cut them into pieces, and serve their cooked flesh to his other guests. He terrorized the poor girl by showing her the valuables he had stolen from his victims, the room where he murdered them, and the weapons he used for his wicked deeds. Then he locked her and her little dog in an adjoining room.
Soon afterward he brought in a little boy whom he had captured in the woods gathering berries. He cut off the boy's head and cut him into pieces. Then he forced the girl to cook the boy's flesh and serve it to the innkeeper's guests.
Some time later the innkeeper brought in a very old woman, ugly and wrinkled, and nothing but skin and bones. Perhaps wanting to fatten her up for later, he locked her in the room with the girl and her dog.
After their captor had left, the old woman told the girl that the cannibal innkeeper was her own son, and that she, disguised so well that he could not recognize her, had come to punish him for his wickedness. Skilled in witchcraft, the old woman told the girl how she could escape. She would first have to kill her little dog and eat a piece of its heart. The girl did this, and then the old woman rubbed some ointment all over the girl's body, which transformed her into a duck.
A little later the wild man opened the door, and the duck flew over his head, escaping into the open. The innkeeper ran from room to room looking for the girl, and his mother uttered a magic curse that caused the house to collapse upon him, killing him at once.
The girl turned around and saw the heap of ruins, but as the old woman had not told her how she could again become a human being, she has remained a duck to this very day.
Revised November 24, 2008.