Fairy Tales From all Nations Part 1

Fairy Tales From all Nations.

by Anthony R. Montalba.

PREFACE.

The time has been, but happily exists no longer, when it would have been necessary to offer an apology for such a book as this. In those days it was not held that

Beauty is its own excuse for being;

on the contrary, a spurious utilitarianism reigned supreme in literature, and fancy and imagination were told to fold their wings, and travel only in the dusty paths of every-day life. Fairy tales, and all such flights into the region of the supernatural, were then condemned as merely idle things, or as pernicious occupations for faculties that should be always directed to serious and profitable concerns. But now we have cast off that pedantic folly, let us hope for ever. We now acknowledge that innocent amus.e.m.e.nt is good for its own sake, and we do not affect to prove our advance in civilisation by our incapacity to relish those sportive creations of unrestricted fancy that have been the delight of every generation in every land from times beyond the reach of history.

The materials of the following Collection have been carefully chosen from more than a hundred volumes of the fairy lore of all nations; and none of them, so far as the Editor is aware, have been previously translated into English.

The Editor cannot close this brief Preface without expressing his grateful acknowledgments of the enhanced attraction imparted to his little work by Mr. Richard Doyle's admirable Ill.u.s.trations.

FAIRY TALES FROM ALL NATIONS

THE BIRTH OF THE FAIRY TALE.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

When nursery tales and entertaining stories did not yet exist--and those were dull times for children, for then their youthful paradise wanted its gayest b.u.t.terfly--there lived two royal children, a brother and sister. They played with each other in a garden allotted to them by their royal sire. This garden was full of the most beautiful and fragrant flowers; its paths were over-spread with golden sands and many-coloured stones, which vied in brilliancy with the dew which glistened on the flowers, illuminated by the splendour of an eastern sun. There were in it cool grottos with rippling streams; fountains spouting high towards heaven; exquisitely chiselled marble statues; lovely arbours and bowers inviting to repose; gold and silver fish swam in the reservoirs, and the most beautiful birds flitted about in gilded cages so s.p.a.cious that they scarcely felt that they were confined, whilst others at full liberty flew from tree to tree, filling the air with their sweet song. Yet the children who possessed all these delights, and saw them daily, were satiated with them and felt weary. They looked without pleasure on the brilliancy of the stones; the fragrance of the flowers and the dancing water of the fountains no longer attracted them; they cared not for the fish which were mute to them, nor for the birds whose warbling they did not comprehend. They sat mournful and listless beside each other; having everything that children could desire--kind parents, costly toys, the richest clothing, every delicacy the land could furnish, with liberty to roam from morning until evening in the beautiful garden,--still they were unsatisfied and they knew not why!--they could not tell what else they wanted.

Then came to them the queen, their mother, beautiful and majestic, with a countenance expressive of love and gentleness. She grieved to see her children so mournful, meeting her with melancholy smiles, instead of gaily bounding to her embrace. Her heart was sorrowful because her children were not happy as she thought they ought to be, for as yet they knew not care; and, thanks to an all-good Providence, the heaven of childhood is usually bright and cloudless.

The queen placed herself between her two children. She threw her full white arms round their necks, and said to them with endearing maternal tenderness, "What ails you, my beloved children?"--"We know not, dear mother!" replied the boy.--"We do not feel happy!" said the girl.

"Yet everything is fair in this garden, and you have everything that can give you pleasure. Do all these things then afford you no enjoyment?" demanded the queen, whilst tears filled her eyes, through which beamed a soul of goodness.

"What we have and enjoy seems not to be the one thing which we want,"

answered the girl.--"We wish for something else, but we know not what it is," added the boy.

The queen sat silent and sad, pondering what that might be for which her children pined. What could possibly afford them greater pleasure than that splendid garden, the richness of their clothing, the variety of their toys, the delicacy of their food, the flavour of their beverage? But in vain; she could not divine the unknown object of their desire.

"Oh, that I myself were again a child!" said the queen to herself with a deep sigh. "I should then perhaps discover what would impart cheerfulness to my children. To comprehend the wish of a child, one should be a child oneself. But I have already wandered too far beyond the boundaries of childhood where fly the golden birds of paradise; those beautiful birds without feet, that never require the repose of which all earthly creatures stand in need. Oh, that such a bird would come to my a.s.sistance, and bring to my dear children that precious gift which should dispel their gloom and make them happy!"

And, behold, the queen had scarcely formed this wish, when a wondrously beautiful bird, whose splendour surpa.s.sed all that can be imagined, bent its flight from the ethereal sky, and wheeled round and round until it attracted the gaze of the queen and her children, who on beholding it were filled with astonishment, and with one voice exclaimed: "Oh, how wonderful is that bird!" And wonderful indeed it was, and gorgeous to behold as it gradually descended towards them.

Like burnished gold blended with sparkling jewels shone its plumage, reflecting the seven colours of the rainbow, and dazzling the eye which it still rivetted anew by its indescribable charms. Beautiful as it was, the aspect of the bird inspired them with a kind of awe, which, though not unpleasing, increased when they felt the wafting of its wings, and suddenly beheld it rest in the lap of the queen. It looked on them with its full eyes, which, though they resembled the friendly smiling eyes of a child, had yet in them something strange and almost unearthly; an expression the children could not comprehend, and therefore feared to consider. They now observed also, that mingled with the bright coloured plumage of this unearthly bird, were some black feathers which they had not before perceived. But scarcely was a moment permitted to them for these observations, ere the wonder-bird again arose, soared aloft higher and higher till it was lost to the sight in the blue and cloudless ether. The queen and her children watched its flight in amazement until it had entirely vanished, and when they again looked down, lo, a new wonder! The bird had deposited in the mother's lap an egg which beamed like the precious opal with many-coloured brilliancy. With one voice, the royal children exclaimed: "Oh, the beautiful egg!" whilst the mother smiled in an ecstasy of joy; for a voice within her predicted to her that this was the jewel which alone was wanting to complete the happiness of her children. This egg, she thought, within its thousand-coloured sh.e.l.l, must contain the treasure that would ensure to her children that which has ever been, and ever will be withheld from age--Contentment;--the longing for that treasure and the antic.i.p.ation of it would charm away their childish melancholy.

The children could not gaze their fill on the splendid egg, and soon in admiring it, forgot the bird that had bestowed it on them. At first they hardly ventured to touch their treasure, but after a while, the maiden first took courage to lay upon it one of her rosy fingers, exclaiming whilst a purple blush of delight over-spread her innocent face: "The egg is warm!" then the royal youth, to try the truth of his sister's words, cautiously touched it also, and lastly the mother placed her beautifully white and taper finger on the costly egg, which then separated into two parts, and there came out from it a being most marvellous to behold. It had wings, and yet it was no bird, nor yet b.u.t.terfly nor bee, though it was a combination of all these infinitely and indescribably blended. It was in short, that multiform many-coloured childish Ideal, the _Fairy Tale_, dispensing pleasure, and happiness, and inspiration to infancy and youth. The mother thenceforth no longer beheld her children pining with melancholy, for the Fairy Tale became their constant companion, and remained with them till the sun which shone on their last day of childhood had set. The possession of this wondrous being from that day endeared to them garden and flowers, bowers and grottos, forests and valleys; for it gave new life and charms to all around them. Borne on its wings they flew far and wide through the great measureless world, and yet, ever at their wish, they were in a moment wafted back to their own home.

Those royal children were mankind in their youthful paradise, and nature was their lovely serene and mild mother. Their wishes drew down from heaven the wonder-bird, PHANTASY, most brilliant of plumage although intermingled with its feathers, were some of the deepest black: the egg deposited by this bright bird, contained the GOLDEN FAIRY TALES: and as the affection of the children for Fairy Lore grew stronger from day to day, enlivening and making happy the time of their childhood, the stories themselves wandered forth, and were welcomed alike in hall and palace, castle and cottage, ever growing in charms and novelty, till they at length received the mission of pleasing manhood also. The grave, the toil-worn, and the aged, would listen with pleased ear to their wonderful relations, and dwell with fond recollection on the golden birth of those Fairy charms.

SNOW-WHITE AND ROSY-RED.

[Danish.]

In a far-distant land, there reigned a queen, who was one day driving in a sledge over the new fallen snow, when, as it chanced, she was seized with a bleeding at her nose, which obliged her to alight. As she stood leaning against the stump of a tree, and gazed on her crimson blood that fell on the snow, she thought to herself, "I have now twelve sons, and not one daughter; could I but have a daughter fair as that snow and rosy as that blood, I should no longer care about my sons." She had scarcely murmured the wish, before a sorceress stood beside her. "Thou shalt have a daughter," said she, "and she shall be fair as this snow and rosy as thy blood; but thy twelve sons shall then be mine; thou may'st, however, retain them with thee, until thy daughter shall be baptized."

Now, at the appointed time the queen brought into the world a daughter, who was fair as snow and rosy as blood, just as the sorceress had promised, and on that account she was called Snow-white and Rosy-red; and there was great joy throughout all the royal household, but the queen rejoiced more than all the rest. But when she remembered her promise to the sorceress, a strange sensation oppressed her heart, and she sent for a silversmith, and commanded him to make twelve silver spoons, one for each of the princes; she had one made for the princess also. On the day that the princess was baptized, the twelve princes were transformed into twelve wild ducks, and flew away, and were no more seen. The princess, however, grew up, and became wonderfully beautiful; but she was always wrapped in her own thoughts, and so melancholy, that no one could guess what was the matter with her.

One evening, when the queen was also in a very melancholy mood, thinking on her lost sons, she said to Snow-white and Rosy-red, "Why are you always so sad, my daughter? If there is anything the matter with you, tell it me. If there is anything you wish for, you shall have it."

"Oh, dear mother," she replied, "all around me seems so desolate; other children have brothers and sisters, but I have none, and that is why I am so sad."

"My daughter," said the queen, "you also once had brothers, for I had twelve sons, but I gave them all up in order to have you;" and thereupon she related to her all that had occurred.

When the princess heard what had befallen her brothers, she could no longer remain at home in peace, and notwithstanding all her mother's tears and entreaties, nothing would satisfy her but she must and would set off in search of her brothers, for she thought that she alone was guilty of causing their misfortune; so she secretly left the palace.

She wandered about the world, and went so far that you would not believe it possible that such a delicate maiden could have gone to such a distance. Once she strayed about a whole night in a great forest, and towards the morning she was so tired that she lay down on a bank and slept. Then she dreamed that she penetrated still farther into the forest, till she came to a little wooden hut, and therein she found her brothers. When she awoke, she saw before her a little beaten path through the moss, and she followed it till in the thickest of the forest she saw a little wooden hut, just like that she had dreamed of.

She entered it, but saw no one. There were, however, twelve beds and twelve chairs, and on the table lay twelve spoons, and, in fact, there were twelve of every article she saw there. The princess was overjoyed, for she could not but fancy that her twelve brethren dwelt there, and that it was to them that the beds, and the chairs, and the spoons belonged. Then she made a fire on the hearth, swept the room, and made the beds; afterwards she cooked a meal for them, and set everything out in the best order possible. And when she had finished her cooking and had prepared everything for her brothers, she sat down and ate something for herself, laid her spoon on the table, and crept under the bed belonging to her youngest brother.

She had scarcely concealed herself there, when she heard a great rustling in the air, and presently in flew twelve wild ducks; but the moment they crossed the threshold, they were instantly transformed into the princes, her brothers!

"Ah, how nicely everything is arranged here, and how delightfully warm it is already," they exclaimed.

"Heaven reward the person who has warmed our room so nicely, and prepared such an excellent repast for us;" and hereupon each took his silver spoon in order to begin eating. But when each prince had taken his own, there was still one remaining, so like the others that they could not distinguish it. Then the princes looked at each other, and were very much astonished.

"That must be our sister's spoon," said they; "and since the spoon is here, she herself cannot be far off."

"If it is our sister, and if she is here," said the eldest, "she shall be killed, for she is the cause of our misfortune."

"Nay," said the youngest, "it would be a sin to kill her; she is not guilty of what we suffer; if any one is in fault, it is no other than our own mother."

Then they all began to search high and low, and at last they looked under all the beds, and when they came to the bed of the youngest prince, they found the princess, and drew her from under it.

The eldest prince was now again for killing her, but she entreated them earnestly to spare her life, and said, "Ah, do not kill me; I have wandered about so long seeking for you, and I would willingly give my life if that would disenchant you."

"Nay, but if you will disenchant us," said they, "we will spare your life; for you can do it if you will."

"Indeed; only tell me then what I am to do, for I will do anything you wish," said the princess.

"You must collect the down of the dandelion flowers, and you must card, and spin, and weave it; and of that material you must cut out and make twelve caps, and twelve s.h.i.+rts, and twelve cravats, a set for each of us; but during the time that you are occupied in doing so, you must neither speak, nor weep, nor smile. If you can do that, we shall be disenchanted."