Text-Generating AI based on a statistical language model trained with 30 fairy tales by the brothers Grimm retrieved from https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/. After an idea and a fabulous essay by Michael Hielscher, who also built a drop-dead beautiful web implementation called SoekiaGPT: https://www.informatischebildung.de/index.php/ibis/article/view/10#fulltext
Press the green flag to generate the statistical model - this will take some time, so please wait patiently. Afterwards you're prompted to enter the beginning of story. The system will add a word each time you press any key.
You can restart by again clicking the green flag. If the model has previously been precomputed there will be no waiting time.data:image/png;base64,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Text-Generating AI based on a statistical language model trained with 30 fairy tales by the brothers Grimm retrieved from https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/. After an idea and a fabulous essay by Michael Hielscher, who also built a drop-dead beautiful web implementation called SoekiaGPT: https://www.informatischebildung.de/index.php/ibis/article/view/10#fulltext
Press the green flag to generate the statistical model - this will take some time, so please wait patiently. Afterwards you're prompted to enter the beginning of story. The system will add a word each time you press any key.
You can restart by again clicking the green flag. If the model has previously been precomputed there will be no waiting time.this is fineworldthis is fine111pt:o texto multilinha _
ca:multilínia _
Takes a text string as input, and reports a new text string containing all but the first character of the input.pt:_ sem o primeiro caractere
ca:_ sense la primera lletra
es:todos menos la primera letra de _
pl:_ bez pierwszej litery
All but first of empty word.Takes a text string as input, divides it into words treating one or more spaces as a word separator (only spaces count; punctuation is part of the word) and reports a text string containing all but the first word, with one space between words and no spaces at the beginning or end. (Note: consider using SENTENCE➞LIST and processing the resulting list instead of doing recursion on sentences in text string form. List operations are faster.)pt:_ sem a primeira palavra
ca:_ sense la primera paraula
es:todas menos la primera palabra de _
pl:_ bez pierwszego słowa
All but first of empty sentence.Takes a text string as input, and reports a new text string containing all but the last letter of the input.pt:_ sem o último caractere
ca:_ sense la darrera lletra
es:todos menos la última letra de _
pl:_ bez ostatniej litery
All but first of empty word.Takes a text string as input, divides it into words treating one or more spaces as a word separator (only spaces count; punctuation is part of the word) and reports a text string containing all but the last word, with one space between words and no spaces at the beginning or end. (Note: consider using SENTENCE->LIST and processing the resulting list instead of doing recursion on sentences in text string form. List operations are faster.)pt:_ sem a última palavra
ca:_ sense la darrera paraula
es:todos menos la última palabra de _
pl:_ bez ostatniego słowa
All but last of empty sentence.Takes a text string as input, divides it into words treating one or more spaces as a word separator (only spaces count; punctuation is part of the word) and reports a text string containing only the first word, with no spaces before or after it.pt:a primeira palavra de _
ca:primera paraula de _
es:primera palabra de _
pl:pierwsze słowo _
Takes a text string as input, and reports the last character in the string.pt:o último caractere de _
ca:primera lletra de _
es:última letra de _
pl:ostatnia litera _
0Takes a text string as input, divides it into words treating one or more spaces as a word separator (only spaces count; punctuation is part of the word) and reports a text string containing only the last word of the input, with no spaces before or after it.pt:a última palavra de _
ca:darrera paraula de _
es:última palabra de _
pl:ostatnie słowo _
Last of empty sentence.Takes a text string as input, and reports TRUE if the string has no characters in it of any kind, otherwise false.pt:a palavra _ está vazia
ca:paraula buida? _
es:¿palabra vacía? _
pl:puste słowo? _
0Takes a text string as input, and reports TRUE if the input contains no characters other than spaces (therefore, no words when the string is considered as a sentence), otherwise FALSE.pt:a frase _ está vazia
ca:frase buida? _
es:¿oración vacía? _
pl:puste zdanie? _
Like JOIN, takes any number of words (text strings) and reports a sentence with its inputs concatenated, but inserts a blank space between the inputs.
Consider using SENTENCE (Lists palette) instead.de:füge Wörter zusammen _
ca:uneix les paraules _
es:unir las palabras _
fr:fusionne les mots _
pt:uma frase com as palavras _
pl:połącz słowa _
firstbffirst111bfTakes a sentence in list form and reports the sentence as a text string.de:Liste $arrowRight Satz _
ca:llista $arrowRight frase _
es:lista $arrowRight frase _
fr:liste $arrowRight phrase _
pt:uma frase com as palavras em _
pl:lista $arrowRight zdanie _
Takes a sentence in text string form and reports the sentence as a list of its words.de:Satz $arrowRight Liste _
ca:frase $arrowRight llista _
es:frase $arrowRight lista _
fr:phrase $arrowRight liste _
pt:uma lista com as palavras da frase _
pl:zdanie $arrowRight lista _
report a list in which each item is one letter from the input wordde:Wort $arrowRight Liste _
ca:paraula $arrowRight llista _
es:palabra $arrowRight lista _
fr:mot $arrowRight liste _
pt:uma lista com os caracteres da palavra _
pl:słowo $arrowRight lista _
join all the items of the input list
into a single word, and report itde:Liste $arrowRight Wort _
ca:llista $arrowRight paraula _
es:lista $arrowRight palabra _
fr:liste $arrowRight mot _
pt:uma palavra com os caracteres em _
pl:lista $arrowRight słowo _
SENTENCE is the main constructor for sentences, represented
as lists of words. It takes zero or more inputs, each of which can
be either a list or a text string. If a list, the input is assumed to be
a list of words. If a text string, it is converted to a list of words using
SENTENCE→LIST. Then all the lists of words are appended to form a new list of words.
If the inputs are lists of lists rather than lists of words, SENTENCE,
like APPEND, does only one level of flattening, reporting a list of
all the items of all the input lists.ca:frase _
es:oración _
pl:zdanie _
pt:lança o erro _
pl:błąd _
Takes a (possibly deep) list as input,
and reports a human-readable text form
of the list (namely, Lisp notation).ca:notació textual de _
es:imprimible _
pl:tekstowa _
()Helper function for word/sentence library.
Reports its first input, unless that input is empty, in which case it gives its second input as an error message.es:requerir no vacío _ _
Takes a text string as input, and reports the first character in the string.pt:a primeira palavra de _
ca:primera lletra de _
es:primera letra de _
pl:pierwsza litera _
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15Write the first words of outputnextSeven swabians were once together. The first was master
schulz, the second, jackli, the third, marli, the fourth,
jergli, the fifth, michal, the sixth, Hans, the seventh,
veitli. All seven had made up their minds to travel
about the world to seek adventures and perform great
deeds. But in order that they might go in safety and with
arms in their hands, they thought it would be advisable
that they should have one solitary, but very strong,
and very long spear made for them. This spear all seven of
them took in their hands at once. In front walked the
boldest and bravest,
and that was master schulz. All the others followed in a
row, and veitli was the last. Then it came to pass one
day in the hay month, when they had walked a long distance,
and still had a long way to go before they reached the
village where they were to pass the night, that as they
were in a meadow in the twilight a great beetle or hornet
flew by them from behind a bush, and hummed in a menacing
manner. Master schulz was so terrified that he all but dropped
the spear, and a cold sweat broke out over his whole body.
Hark, hark, cried he to his comrades, good heavens. I hear a
drum. Jackli, who was behind him holding the spear, and into
whose nose some smell had risen, said, something is most
certainly going on, for I smell the powder and the match. At
these words master schulz began to take to flight, and in a
trice jumped
over a hedge, but as he just happened to jump on to the teeth of
a rake which had been left lying there after the hay-making, the
handle of it struck against his face and gave him a tremendous
blow. O dear. O dear, screamed master schulz. Take me
prisoner, I surrender, I surrender. The other six all leapt
over, one on the top of the other, crying, if you surrender, I
surrender too. If you surrender, I surrender too. At length,
as no enemy was there to bind and take them away, they saw that
they had been mistaken, and in order that the story might not
be known, and they be treated as fools and ridiculed, they
all swore to each other to hold their peace about it until one
of them should speak of it by mistake.
Then they journeyed onwards. The second danger which they
survived cannot be compared with the first. Some days afterwards,
their path led them through a fallow-field where a hare was sitting
sleeping in the sun. Her ears were standing straight up, and her
great glassy eyes were wide open. All of them were alarmed at
the sight of the horrible wild beast, and they consulted together
as to what it would be the least dangerous to do. For if they
were to run away, they knew that the monster would pursue and
swallow them whole. So they said, we must go through a great
and dangerous struggle. Boldly ventured, is half won, and all
seven grasped the spear, master schulz in front, and veitli
behind. Master schulz was always trying to keep the spear
back, but veitli had become quite brave while behind, and wanted
to dash forward and cried,
strike home, in every swabian's name,
or else I wish you may be lame.
But Hans knew how to meet this, and said,
thunder and lightning, it's fine to prate,
but for dragon-hunting you are always late.
Michal cried,
nothing is missing, not even a hair,
be sure the devil himself is there.
Then it was jergli's turn, and he said,
if it be not he, it's at least his mother,
or else the devil's own step-brother.
And now marli had a bright thought, and said to veitli,
advance, veitli, advance, advance,
and I behind will hold the lance.
Veitli, however, did not obey, and jackli said,
tis schulz's place the first to be,
no one deserves that honor but he.
Then master schulz plucked up his courage, and said, gravely,
then let us boldly advance to the fight,
thus we shall show our valor and might.
Hereupon they all together set on the dragon. Master
schulz crossed himself and prayed for God's assistance, but
as all this was of no avail, and he was getting nearer and nearer
to the enemy, he screamed, oho, oho, ho, ho, ho, in the greatest
anguish. This awakened the hare, which in great alarm darted
swiftly away. When master schulz saw her thus flying from the
field of battle, he cried in his joy,
quick, veitli, quick, look there, look there,
the monster's nothing but a hare.
But the swabian allies went in search of further adventures, and
came to the moselle, a mossy, quiet, deep river, over which there are
few bridges, and which in many places people have to cross in
boats. As the seven swabians did not know this, they called
to a man who was working on the opposite side of the river, to
know how people contrived to get across. The distance and their
way of speaking made the man unable to understand what they
wanted, and he said, what, what, in the way people speak in
the neighborhood of treves. Master schulz thought he was saying,
wade, wade through the water, and as he was the first, began
to set out and
went into the moselle. It was not long before he sank in the
mud and the deep waves which drove against him, but his hat was
blown on the opposite shore by the wind, and a frog sat down
beside it, and croaked, wat, wat, wat. The other six on the
opposite side heard that, and said, oho, comrades, master
schulz is calling us. If he can wade across, why cannot we.
So they all jumped into the water together in a great hurry, and
were drowned, and thus one frog took the lives of all six of
them, and not one of the swabian allies ever reached home again.
There were once upon a time a king and a queen who lived
happily together and had twelve children, but they were
all boys. Then said the king to his wife, if the thirteenth
child which you are about to bring into the world, is a girl, the
twelve boys shall die, in order that her possessions may be great,
and that the kingdom may fall to her alone. He even caused twelve
coffins to be made, which were already filled with shavings, and
in each lay a little death pillow, and he had them taken into a
locked-up room, and then he gave the queen the key of it, and bade
her not to speak of this to anyone.
The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day long, until
the youngest son, who was always with her, and whom she had
named benjamin, from the bible, said to her, dear mother, why
are you so sad.
Dearest child, she answered, I may not tell you. But he let
her have no rest until she went and unlocked the room, and showed
him the twelve coffins ready filled with shavings. Then she said,
my dearest benjamin, your father has had these coffins made for
you and for your eleven brothers, for if I bring a little girl into
the world, you are all to be killed and buried in them. And as she
wept while she was saying this, the son comforted her and said, weep
not, dear mother, we will save ourselves, and go hence. But she
said, go forth into the forest with your eleven brothers, and let
one sit constantly on the highest tree which can be found, and keep
watch, looking towards the tower here in the castle. If I give
birth to a little son, I will put up a white flag, and then you may
venture to come back. But if I bear a daughter, I will hoist a red
flag, and then fly hence as quickly as you are able, and may the
good God protect you. And every night I will rise up and pray for
you - in winter that you may be able to warm yourself at a fire, and
in summer that you may not faint away in the heat.
After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went forth into
the forest. They each kept watch in turn, and sat on the highest
oak and looked towards the tower. When eleven days had passed
and the turn came to benjamin, he saw that a flag was being raised.
It was, however, not the white, but the blood-red flag which
announced that they were all to die. When the brothers heard that,
they were very angry and said, are we all to suffer death for the
sake of a girl. We swear that we will avenge ourselves -
wheresoever we find a girl, her red blood shall flow.
Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the midst
of it, where it was the darkest, they found a little bewitched hut,
which was standing empty. Then said they, here we will dwell,
and you benjamin, who are the youngest and weakest, you shall
stay at home and keep house, we others will go out and fetch food.
Then they went into the forest and shot hares, wild deer, birds and
pigeons, and whatsoever there was to eat. This they took to
benjamin, who had to dress it for them in order that they might
appease their hunger. They lived together ten years in the little
hut, and the time did not appear long to them.
The little daughter which their mother the queen had given
birth to, was now grown up. She was good of heart, and fair of
face, and had a golden star on her forehead. Once, on a great
washing, she saw twelve men's shirts among the things, and asked her
mother, to whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are far
too small for father. Then the queen answered with a heavy
heart, dear child, these belong to your twelve brothers. Said the
maiden, where are my twelve brothers, I have never yet heard
of them. She replied, God knows where they are, they are
wandering about the world. Then she took the maiden and opened
the chamber for her, and showed her the twelve coffins with the
shavings, and the death pillows. These coffins, said she,
were destined for your brothers, who went away secretly before you
were born, and she related to her how everything had happened.
Then said the maiden, dear mother, weep not, I will go and seek
my brothers.
So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and straight into
the great forest. She walked the whole day, and in the evening she
came to the bewitched hut. Then she entered it and found a young
boy, who asked, from whence do you come, and whither are you
bound, and was astonished that she was so beautiful, and wore
royal garments, and had a star on her forehead. And she answered,
I am a king's daughter, and am seeking my twelve brothers, and
I will walk as far as the sky is blue until I find them. And she
showed him the twelve shirts which belonged to them. Then
benjamin saw that she was his sister, and said, I am benjamin, your
youngest brother. And she began to weep for joy, and benjamin
wept also, and they kissed and embraced each other with the
greatest love. But after this he said, dear sister, there is still
one difficulty. We have agreed that every maiden whom we meet
shall die, because we have been obliged to leave our kingdom on
account of a girl. Then said she, I will willingly die, if by so
doing I can save my twelve brothers.
No, answered he, you shall not die. Seat yourself beneath this
tub until our eleven brothers come, and then I will soon come to
an agreement with them.
She did so, and when it was night the others came from hunting,
and their dinner was ready. And as they were sitting at table, and
eating, they asked, what news is there. Said benjamin, don't
you know anything. No, they answered. He continued, you have
been in the forest and I have stayed at home, and yet I know
more than you do. Tell us then, they cried. He answered, but
promise me that the first maiden who meets us shall not be killed.
Yes, they all cried, she shall have mercy, only do tell us.
Then said he, our sister is here, and he lifted up the tub, and
the king's daughter came forth in her royal garments with the
golden star on her forehead, and she was beautiful, delicate and
fair. Then they were all rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and kissed
and loved her with all their hearts.
Now she stayed at home with benjamin and helped him with
the work. The eleven went into the forest and caught game, and
deer, and birds, and wood-pigeons that they might have food, and
the little sister and benjamin took care to make it ready for them.
She sought for the wood for cooking and herbs for vegetables, and
put the pans on the fire so that the dinner was always ready when
the eleven came. She likewise kept order in the little house, and
put beautifully white clean coverings on the little beds and the
brothers were always contented and lived in great harmony with her.
Once upon a time the two at home had prepared a wonderful
feast, and when they were all together, they sat down and ate and
drank and were full of gladness. There was, however, a little
garden belonging to the bewitched house wherein stood twelve lily
flowers, which are likewise called student-lilies. She wished to
give her brothers pleasure, and plucked the twelve flowers, and
thought she would present each brother with one while at dinner.
But at the self-same moment that she plucked the flowers the twelve
brothers were changed into twelve ravens, and flew away over the
forest, and the house and garden vanished likewise. And now the
poor maiden was alone in the wild forest, and when she looked
around, an old woman was standing near her who said, my child,
what have you done. Why did you not leave the twelve white
flowers growing. They were your brothers, who are now forevermore
changed into ravens. The maiden said, weeping, is there no way of
saving them.
No, said the woman, there is but one in the whole world, and
that is so hard that you will not save them by it, for you must be
dumb for seven years, and may not speak or laugh, and if you speak
one single word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all
is in vain, and your brothers will be killed by the one word.
Then said the maiden in her heart, I know with certainty that
I shall set my brothers free, and went and sought a high tree and
seated herself in it and spun, and neither spoke nor laughed. Now
it so happened that a king was hunting in the forest, who had a
great greyhound which ran to the tree on which the maiden was
sitting, and sprang about it, whining, and barking at her. Then
the king came by and saw the beautiful king's daughter with the
golden star on her brow, and was so charmed with her beauty that
he called to ask her if she would be his wife. She made no answer,
but nodded a little with her head. So he climbed up the tree
himself, carried her down, placed her on his horse, and bore her
home. Then the wedding was solemnized with great magnificence and
rejoicing, but the bride neither spoke nor smiled. When they had
lived happily together for a few years, the king's mother, who was
a wicked woman, began to slander the young queen, and said to
the king, this is a common beggar girl whom you have brought
back with you. Who knows what wicked tricks she practises secretly.
Even if she be dumb, and not able to speak, she still might
laugh for once. But those who do not laugh have bad consciences.
At first the king would not believe it, but the old woman urged this
so long, and accused her of so many evil things, that at last the
king let himself be persuaded and sentenced her to death.
And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in which she
was to be burnt, and the king stood above at the window and
looked on with tearful eyes, because he still loved her so much.
And when she was bound fast to the stake, and the fire was licking
at her clothes with its red tongue, the last instant of the seven
years expired. Then a whirring sound was heard in the air, and
twelve ravens came flying towards the place, and sank downwards, and
when they touched the earth they were her twelve brothers, whom
she had saved. They tore the fire asunder, extinguished the flames,
set their dear sister free, and kissed and embraced her. And now
as she dared to open her mouth and speak, she told the king why she
had been dumb, and had never laughed. The king rejoiced when
he heard that she was innocent, and they all lived in great unity
until their death. The wicked step-mother was taken before the
judge, and put into a barrel filled with boiling oil and venomous
snakes, and died an evil death.
There was once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the
king faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no
longer because of the many wounds which he had received. The king
said to him, "You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and
you will not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who
renders me serve for them." Then the soldier did not know how to earn
a living, went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until
in the evening he entered a forest. When darkness came on, he saw a
light, which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a
witch. "Do give me one night's lodging, and a little to eat and
drink," said he to her, "or I shall starve." "Oho," she answered,
"who gives anything to a run-away soldier? Yet will I be
compassionate, and take you in, if you will do what I wish." "What do
you wish?" said the soldier. "That you should dig all round my
garden for me, tomorrow." The soldier consented, and next day labored
with all his strength, but could not finish it by the evening. "I
see well enough," said the witch, "that you can do no more today, but
I will keep you yet another night, in payment for which you must
tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small." The soldier
spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch
proposed that he should stay one night more. "Tomorrow, you shall
only do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind my house, there is
an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and
never goes out, and you shall bring it up again."
Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a
basket. He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him
up again. She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she
stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from
him. "No," said he, perceiving her evil intention, "I will not give
you the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground."
The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the well, and
went away.
The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the
blue light went on burning, but of what use was that to him. He saw
very well that he could not escape death. He sat for a while very
sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his
tobacco pipe, which was still half full. "This shall be my last
pleasure," thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and
began to smoke. When the smoke had circled about the cavern,
suddenly a little black dwarf stood before him, and said, "Lord, what
are your commands?" "What my commands are?" replied the soldier,
quite astonished. "I must do everything you bid me," said the little
man. "Good," said the soldier, "then in the first place help me out
of this well." The little man took him by the hand, and led him
through an underground passage, but he did not forget to take the
blue light with him. On the way the dwarf showed him the treasures
which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took
as much gold as he could carry. When he was above, he said to the
little man, "Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before the
judge."
In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild tom-cat
and screaming frightfully. Nor was it long before the little man
re-appeared. "It is all done," said he, "and the witch is already
hanging on the gallows. What further commands has my lord," inquired
the dwarf. "At this moment, none," answered the soldier, "You can
return home, only be at hand immediately, if I summon you." "Nothing
more is needed than that you should light your pipe at the blue
light, and I will appear before you at once." Thereupon he vanished
from his sight.
The soldier returned to the town from which he had come. He went to
the best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the
landlord furnish him a room as handsome as possible. When it was
ready and the soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the
little black mannikin and said, "I have served the king faithfully,
but he has dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to
take my revenge." "What am I to do?" asked the little man. "Late at
night, when the king's daughter is in bed, bring her here in her
sleep, she shall do servant's work for me." The mannikin said, "That
is an easy thing for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you,
for if it is discovered, you will fare ill." When twelve o'clock had
struck, the door sprang open, and the mannikin carried in the
princess. "Aha, are you there?" cried the soldier, "Get to your work
at once. Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber." When she had done
this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he stretched out
his feet and said, "Pull off my boots," and then he threw them in her
face, and made her pick them up again, and clean and brighten them.
She, however, did everything he bade her, without opposition,
silently and with half-shut eyes. When the first cock crowed, the
mannikin carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her in her
bed.
Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told
him that she had had a very strange dream. "I was carried through
the streets with the rapidity of lightning," said she, "and taken
into a soldier's room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant,
sweep his room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It
was only a dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done
everything." "The dream may have been true," said the king, "I will
give you a piece of advice. Fill your pocket full of peas, and make
a small hole in the pocket, and then if you are carried away again,
they will fall out and leave a track in the streets." But unseen by
the king, the mannikin was standing beside him when he said that, and
heard all. At night when the sleeping princess was again carried
through the streets, some peas certainly did fall out of her pocket,
but they made no track, for the crafty mannikin had just before
scattered peas in every street there was. And again the princess was
compelled to do servant's work until cock-crow.
Next morning the king sent his people out to seek the track, but it
was all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting,
picking up peas, and saying, "It must have rained peas, last night."
"We must think of something else," said the king, "keep your shoes on
when you go to bed, and before you come back from the place where you
are taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it."
The black mannikin heard this plot, and at night when the soldier
again ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told
him that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and
that if the shoe were found in the soldier's house it would go badly
with him. "Do what I bid you," replied the soldier, and again this
third night the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but
before she went away, she hid her shoe under the bed.
Next morning the king had the entire town searched for his daughter's
shoe. It was found at the soldier's, and the soldier himself, who at
the entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought
back, and thrown into prison. In his flight he had forgotten the
most valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had
only one ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was
standing at the window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of
his comrades passing by. The soldier tapped at the pane of glass,
and when this man came up, said to him, "Be so kind as to fetch me
that small bundle I have lying in the inn, and I will give you a
ducat for doing it."
His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted. As soon as
the soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the
black mannikin. "Have no fear," said the latter to his master. "Go
wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take
the blue light with you." Next day the soldier was tried, and though
he had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death. When
he was led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the king. "What
is it?" asked the king. "That I may smoke one more pipe on my way."
"You may smoke three," answered the king, "but do not imagine that I
will spare your life." Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and
lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke
had ascended, the mannikin was there with a small cudgel in his hand,
and said, "What does my lord command?" "Strike down to earth that
false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the king who has
treated me so ill." Then the mannikin fell on them like lightning,
darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched
by his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again. The
king was terrified, he threw himself on the soldier's mercy, and
merely to be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his
own, and his daughter to wife.
A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks
to the mill indefatigably for many a long year. But his
strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit
for work. Then his master began to consider how he might
best save his keep. But the donkey, seeing that no good wind
was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to bremen. There,
he thought, I can surely be a town-musician. When he had walked
some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping like
one who had run till he was tired. What are you gasping so for,
you big fellow, asked the donkey.
Ah, replied the hound, as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and
no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to
flight, but now how am I to earn my bread.
I tell you what, said the donkey, I am going to bremen, and
shall be town-musician there. Go with me and engage yourself
also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat
the kettle-drum.
The hound agreed, and on they went.
Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face
like three rainy days. Now then, old shaver, what has gone
askew with you, asked the donkey.
Who can be merry when his neck is in danger, answered the cat.
Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to
stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than
hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I
ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go.
Go with us to bremen. You understand night-music, you
can be a town-musician.
The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the
three fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting
upon the gate, crowing with all his might. Your crow goes
through and through one, said the donkey. What is the matter.
I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on
which our lady washes the christ-child's little shirts, and
wants to dry them, said the cock. But guests are coming for
sunday, so the housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that
she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening
I am to have my head cut off. Now I am crowing at the top of
my lungs while still I can.
Ah, but red-comb, said the donkey, you had better come away
with us. We are going to bremen. You can find something better
than death everywhere. You have a good voice, and if we make
music together it must have some quality.
The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together.
They could not reach the city of bremen in one day, however,
and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to
pass the night. The donkey and the hound laid themselves down
under a large tree, the cat and the cock settled themselves in
the branches. But the cock flew right to the top, where he was
most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on all four
sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark burning.
So he called out to his companions that there must be a house
not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, if so, we
had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad. The
hound thought too that a few bones with some meat on would do
him good.
So they made their way to the place where the light was, and
soon saw it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to
a well-lighted robbers, house. The donkey, as the biggest, went
to the window and looked in.
What do you see, my grey-horse, asked the cock. What do I
see, answered the donkey. A table covered with good things to
eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.
That would be the sort of thing for us, said the cock. Yes,
yes. Ah, if only we were there, said the donkey.
Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage
to drive away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan.
The donkey was to place himself with his fore-feet upon the
window-ledge, the hound was to jump on the donkey's back, the
cat was to climb upon the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly
up and perch upon the head of the cat.
When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform
their music together. The donkey brayed, the hound barked,
the cat mewed, and the cock crowed. Then they burst through the
window into the room, shattering the glass. At this horrible din,
the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost
had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The
four companions now sat down at the table, well content with
what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a
month.
As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light,
and each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his
nature and what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon
some straw in the yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon
the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock perched himself
upon a beam of the roof. And being tired from their long walk,
they soon went to sleep.
When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that
the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared
quiet, the captain said, we ought not to have let ourselves
be frightened out of our wits, and ordered one of them to go
and examine the house.
The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light
a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for
live coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But
the cat did not understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting
and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the
back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his
leg. And as he ran across the yard by the dunghill, the donkey
gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cock, too, who had
been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down
from the beam, cock-a-doodle-doo.
Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and
said, ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who
spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws. And by
the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg.
And in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with
a wooden club. And above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who
called out, bring the rogue here to me. So I got away as well
as I could.
After this the robbers never again dared enter the house.
But it suited the four musicians of bremen so well that they
did not care to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who
last told this story is still warm.
Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, since
our mother died we have had no happiness. Our step-mother
beats us every day, and if we come near her she kicks us away
with her foot. Our meals are the hard crusts of bread that are left
over. And the little dog under the table is better off, for she
often throws it a choice morsel. God pity us, if our mother only
knew. Come, we will go forth together into the wide world.
They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony
places. And when it rained the little sister said, heaven and our
hearts are weeping together. In the evening they came to a large
forest, and they were so weary with sorrow and hunger and the
long walk, that they lay down in a hollow tree and fell asleep.
The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high in the
sky, and shone down hot into the tree. Then the brother said,
sister, I am thirsty. If I knew of a little brook I would go and
just take a drink. I think I hear one running. The brother got up
and took the little sister by the hand, and they set off to find
the brook. But the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen how
the two children had gone away, and had crept after them secretly,
as witches creep, and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest.
Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the
stones, the brother was going to drink out of it, but the sister
heard how it said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a tiger.
Who drinks of me will be a tiger. Then the sister cried, pray,
dear brother, do not drink, or you will become a wild beast, and
tear me to pieces. The brother did not drink, although he was so
thirsty, but said, I will wait for the next spring.
When they came to the next brook the sister heard this also say,
who drinks of me will be a wolf. Who drinks of me will be a wolf.
Then the sister cried out, pray, dear brother, do not drink,
or you will become a wolf, and devour me. The brother did not
drink, and said, I will wait until we come to the next spring, but
then I must drink, say what you like. For my thirst is too great.
And when they came to the third brook the sister heard how it
said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a roebuck. Who drinks
of me will be a roebuck. The sister said, oh, I pray you, dear
brother, do not drink, or you will become a roebuck, and run away
from me. But the brother had knelt down at once by the brook,
and had bent down and drunk some of the water, and as soon as
the first drops touched his lips he lay there in the form of a
young roebuck.
And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched brother, and
the little roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at
last the girl said, be quiet, dear little roe, I will never,
never leave you.
Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the roebuck's
neck, and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. This
she tied to the little animal and led it on, and she walked deeper
and deeper into the forest.
And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a
little house, and the girl looked in. And as it was empty, she
thought, we can stay here and live. Then she sought for leaves
and moss to make a soft bed for the roe. And every morning she
went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself, and
brought tender grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand, and was
content and played round about her. In the evening, when the sister
was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head upon the
roebuck's back - that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it.
And if only the brother had had his human form it would have been a
delightful life.
For some time they were alone like this in the wilderness. But
it happened that the king of the country held a great hunt in the
forest. Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs and the
merry shouts of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the roebuck
heard all, and was only too anxious to be there. Oh, said he,
to his sister, let me be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any
longer, and he begged so much that at last she agreed. But, said
she to him, come back to me in the evening. I must shut my door for
fear of the rough huntsmen, so knock and say, my little sister,
let me in, that I may know you. And if you do not say that, I
shall not open the door. Then the young roebuck sprang away. So
happy was he and so merry in the open air.
The king and the huntsmen saw the lovely animal, and started
after him, but they could not catch him, and when they thought
that they surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and
vanished. When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and
said, my little sister, let me in. Then the door was opened for
him, and he jumped in, and rested himself the whole night through
upon his soft bed.
The next day the hunt began again, and when the roebuck once
more heard the bugle-horn, and the ho. Ho. Of the huntsmen, he
had no peace, but said, sister, let me out, I must be off. His
sister opened the door for him, and said, but you must be here again
in the evening and say your pass-word.
When the king and his huntsmen again saw the young roebuck
with the golden collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick
and nimble for them. This lasted the whole day, but by the evening
the huntsmen had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him
a little in the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a
hunter crept after him to the cottage and heard how he said, my
little sister, let me in, and saw that the door was opened for him,
and was shut again at once. The huntsman took notice of it all, and
went to the king and told him what he had seen and heard. Then
the king said, to-morrow we will hunt once more.
The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she
saw that her fawn was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid
herbs on the wound, and said, go to your bed, dear roe, that you
may get well again. But the wound was so slight that the roebuck,
next morning, did not feel it any more. And when he again heard
the sport outside, he said, I cannot bear it, I must be there.
They shall not find it so easy to catch me. The sister cried, and
said, this time they will kill you, and here am I alone in the
forest and forsaken by all the world. I will not let you out. Then
you will have me die of grief, answered the roe. When I hear the
bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of my skin. Then the
sister could not do otherwise, but opened the door for him with a
heavy heart, and the roebuck, full of health and joy, bounded into
the forest.
When the king saw him, he said to his huntsmen, now chase
him all day long till night-fall, but take care that no one does him
any harm.
As soon as the sun had set, the king said to the huntsman, now
come and show me the cottage in the wood. And when he was at
the door, he knocked and called out, dear little sister, let me in.
Then the door opened, and the king walked in, and there stood
a maiden more lovely than any he had ever seen. The maiden was
frightened when she saw, not her little roe, but a man come in who
wore a golden crown upon his head. But the king looked kindly
at her, stretched out his hand, and said, will you go with me to
my palace and be my dear wife. Yes, indeed, answered the
maiden, but the little roe must go with me, I cannot leave him.
The king said, it shall stay with you as long as you live, and
shall want nothing. Just then he came running in, and the sister
again tied him with the cord of rushes, took it in her own hand, and
went away with the king from the cottage.
The king took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried
her to his palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp.
She was now the queen, and they lived for a long time happily
together. The roebuck was tended and cherished, and ran about in
the palace-garden.
But the wicked step-mother, because of whom the children had
gone out into the world, had never thought but that the sister had
been torn to pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the
brother had been shot for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when
she heard that they were so happy, and so well off, envy and
jealousy rose in her heart and left her no peace, and she thought of
nothing but how she could bring them again to misfortune. Her own
daughter, who was ugly as night, and had only one eye, reproached
her and said, a queen. That ought to have been my luck. Just be
quiet, answered the old woman, and comforted her by saying,
when the time comes I shall be ready.
As time went on the queen had a pretty little boy, and it
happened that the king was out hunting. So the old witch took the
form of the chamber maid, went into the room where the queen
lay, and said to her, come the bath is ready. It will do you good,
and give you fresh strength. Make haste before it gets cold.
Her daughter also was close by. So they carried the weakly
queen into the bath-room, and put her into the bath. Then they
shut the door and ran away. But in the bath-room they had made
a fire of such hellish heat that the beautiful young queen was soon
suffocated.
When this was done the old woman took her daughter, put a
nightcap on her head, and laid her in bed in place of the queen.
She gave her too the shape and look of the queen, only she
could not make good the lost eye. But in order that the king might
not see it, she was to lie on the side on which she had no eye.
In the evening when he came home and heard that he had a son
he was heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to
see how she was. But the old woman quickly called out, for your
life leave the curtains closed. The queen ought not to see the
light yet, and must have rest. The king went away, and did not find
out that a false queen was lying in the bed.
But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the
nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw
the door open and the true queen walk in. She took the child out
of the cradle, laid it on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook
up its pillow, laid the child down again, and covered it with the
little quilt. And she did not forget the roebuck, but went into the
corner where it lay, and stroked its back. Then she went quite
silently out of the door again. The next morning the nurse asked
the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during the night,
but they answered, no, we have seen no one.
She came thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse
always saw her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it.
When some time had passed in this manner, the queen began to
speak in the night, and said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
Twice shall I come, then never more.
The nurse did not answer, but when the queen had gone again,
went to the king and told him all. The king said, ah, God.
What is this. To-morrow night I will watch by the child. In the
evening he went into the nursery, and at midnight the queen again
appeared and said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
Once will I come, then never more.
And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she
disappeared. The king dared not speak to her, but on the next
night he watched again. Then she said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
This time I come, then never more.
Then the king could not restrain himself. He sprang towards her,
and said, you can be none other than my dear wife. She answered,
yes, I am your dear wife, and at the same moment she received
life again, and by God's grace became fresh, rosy and full of
health.
Then she told the king the evil deed which the wicked witch
and her daughter had been guilty of towards her. The king ordered
both to be led before the judge, and the judgment was delivered
against them. The daughter was taken into the forest where she was
torn to pieces by wild beasts, but the witch was cast into the fire
and miserably burnt. And as soon as she was burnt to ashes, the
roebuck changed his shape, and received his human form again, so the
sister and brother lived happily together all their lives.
Cinderella
The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end
was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and
said, dear child, be good and pious, and then the
good God will always protect you, and I will look down on you
from heaven and be near you. Thereupon she closed her eyes and
departed. Every day the maiden went out to her mother's grave,
and wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter came
the snow spread a white sheet over the grave, and by the time the
spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken another wife.
The woman had brought with her into the house two daughters,
who were beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of heart.
Now began a bad time for the poor step-child. Is the stupid goose
to sit in the parlor with us, they said. He who wants to eat bread
must earn it. Out with the kitchen-wench. They took her pretty
clothes away from her, put an old grey bedgown on her, and gave
her wooden shoes. Just look at the proud princess, how decked
out she is, they cried, and laughed, and led her into the kitchen.
There she had to do hard work from morning till night, get up
before daybreak, carry water, light fires, cook and wash. Besides
this, the sisters did her every imaginable injury - they mocked her
and emptied her peas and lentils into the ashes, so that she was
forced to sit and pick them out again. In the evening when she had
worked till she was weary she had no bed to go to, but had to sleep
by the hearth in the cinders. And as on that account she always
looked dusty and dirty, they called her cinderella.
It happened that the father was once going to the fair, and he
asked his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them.
Beautiful dresses, said one, pearls and jewels, said the second.
And you, cinderella, said he, what will you have. Father
break off for me the first branch which knocks against your hat on
your way home. So he bought beautiful dresses, pearls and jewels
for his two step-daughters, and on his way home, as he was riding
through a green thicket, a hazel twig brushed against him and
knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the branch and took it with
him. When he reached home he gave his step-daughters the things
which they had wished for, and to cinderella he gave the branch
from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him, went to her mother's
grave and planted the branch on it, and wept so much that the tears
fell down on it and watered it. And it grew and became a handsome
tree. Thrice a day cinderella went and sat beneath it, and wept and
prayed, and a little white bird always came on the tree, and if
cinderella expressed a wish, the bird threw down to her what she
had wished for.
It happened, however, that the king gave orders for a festival
which was to last three days, and to which all the beautiful young
girls in the country were invited, in order that his son might choose
himself a bride. When the two step-sisters heard that they too were
to appear among the number, they were delighted, called cinderella
and said, comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten our
buckles, for we are going to the wedding at the king's palace.
Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because she too would have liked to
go with them to the dance, and begged her step-mother to allow
her to do so. You go, cinderella, said she, covered in dust and
dirt as you are, and would go to the festival. You have no clothes
and shoes, and yet would dance. As, however, cinderella went on
asking, the step-mother said at last, I have emptied a dish of
lentils into the ashes for you, if you have picked them out again in
two hours, you shall go with us. The maiden went through the
back-door into the garden, and called, you tame pigeons, you
turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me
to pick
the good into the pot,
the bad into the crop.
Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen window, and
afterwards the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds beneath the
sky, came whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes.
And the pigeons nodded with their heads and began pick, pick,
pick, pick, and the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and
gathered all the good grains into the dish. Hardly had one hour
passed before they had finished, and all flew out again. Then the
girl took the dish to her step-mother, and was glad, and believed
that now she would be allowed to go with them to the festival.
But the step-mother said, no, cinderella, you have no clothes and
you can not dance. You would only be laughed at. And as
cinderella wept at this, the step-mother said, if you can pick two
dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me in one hour, you shall go
with us. And she thought to herself, that she most certainly
cannot do again. When the step-mother had emptied the two
dishes of lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the
back-door into the garden and cried, you tame pigeons, you
turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me
to pick
the good into the pot,
the bad into the crop.
Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and
afterwards the turtle-doves, and at length all the birds beneath the
sky, came whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the
ashes. And the doves nodded with their heads and began pick,
pick, pick, pick, and the others began also pick, pick, pick, pick,
and gathered all the good seeds into the dishes, and before half an
hour was over they had already finished, and all flew out again.
Then the maiden was delighted, and believed that she might now go
with them to the wedding. But the step-mother said, all this will
not help. You cannot go with us, for you have no clothes and can
not dance. We should be ashamed of you. On this she turned her
back on cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud daughters.
As no one was now at home, cinderella went to her mother's
grave beneath the hazel-tree, and cried -
shiver and quiver, little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and
slippers embroidered with silk and silver. She put on the dress
with all speed, and went to the wedding. Her step-sisters and the
step-mother however did not know her, and thought she must be a
foreign princess, for she looked so beautiful in the golden dress.
They never once thought of cinderella, and believed that she was
sitting at home in the dirt, picking lentils out of the ashes. The
prince approached her, took her by the hand and danced with her.
He would dance with no other maiden, and never let loose of her
hand, and if any one else came to invite her, he said, this is my
partner.
She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home.
But the king's son said, I will go with you and bear you company,
for he wished to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged.
She escaped from him, however, and sprang into the
pigeon-house. The king's son waited until her father came, and
then he told him that the unknown maiden had leapt into the
pigeon-house. The old man thought, can it be cinderella. And
they had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he might hew
the pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it. And when they
got home cinderella lay in her dirty clothes among the ashes, and
a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the mantle-piece, for
cinderella had jumped quickly down from the back of the pigeon-house
and had run to the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken off
her beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had
taken them away again, and then she had seated herself in the
kitchen amongst the ashes in her grey gown.
Next day when the festival began afresh, and her parents and
the step-sisters had gone once more, cinderella went to the
hazel-tree and said -
shiver and quiver, my little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on
the preceding day. And when cinderella appeared at the wedding
in this dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The king's
son had waited until she came, and instantly took her by the hand
and danced with no one but her. When others came and invited
her, he said, this is my partner. When evening came she wished
to leave, and the king's son followed her and wanted to see into
which house she went. But she sprang away from him, and into
the garden behind the house. Therein stood a beautiful tall tree on
which hung the most magnificent pears. She clambered so nimbly
between the branches like a squirrel that the king's son did not
know where she was gone. He waited until her father came, and
said to him, the unknown maiden has escaped from me, and I
believe she has climbed up the pear-tree. The father thought,
can it be cinderella. And had an axe brought and cut the
tree down, but no one was on it. And when they got into the
kitchen, cinderella lay there among the ashes, as usual, for she
had jumped down on the other side of the tree, had taken the
beautiful dress to the bird on the little hazel-tree, and put on her
grey gown.
On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away,
cinderella went once more to her mother's grave and said to the
little tree -
shiver and quiver, my little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was more
splendid and magnificent than any she had yet had, and the
slippers were golden. And when she went to the festival in the
dress, no one knew how to speak for astonishment. The king's son
danced with her only, and if any one invited her to dance, he said
this is my partner.
When evening came, cinderella wished to leave, and the king's
son was anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so quickly
that he could not follow her. The king's son, however, had
employed a ruse, and had caused the whole staircase to be smeared
with pitch, and there, when she ran down, had the maiden's left
slipper remained stuck. The king's son picked it up, and it was
small and dainty, and all golden. Next morning, he went with it to
the father, and said to him, no one shall be my wife but she whose
foot this golden slipper fits. Then were the two sisters glad,
for they had pretty feet. The eldest went with the shoe into her
room and wanted to try it on, and her mother stood by. But she
could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe was too small for
her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, cut the toe off,
when you are queen you will have no more need to go on foot. The
maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the shoe, swallowed
the pain, and went out to the king's son. Then he took her on his
his horse as his bride and rode away with her. They were
obliged, however, to pass the grave, and there, on the hazel-tree,
sat the two pigeons and cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
there's blood within the shoe,
the shoe it is too small for her,
the true bride waits for you.
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was trickling
from it. He turned his horse round and took the false bride
home again, and said she was not the true one, and that the
other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this one went into her
chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel was
too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, cut a bit
off your heel, when you are queen you will have no more need
to go on foot. The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced
her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the
king's son. He took her on his horse as his bride, and rode away
with her, but when they passed by the hazel-tree, the two pigeons
sat on it and cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
there's blood within the shoe,
the shoe it is too small for her,
the true bride waits for you.
He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running
out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white stocking quite
red. Then he turned his horse and took the false bride home
again. This also is not the right one, said he, have you no
other daughter. No, said the man, there is still a little
stunted kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind her, but
she cannot possibly be the bride. The king's son said he was
to send her up to him, but the mother answered, oh, no, she is
much too dirty, she cannot show herself. But he absolutely
insisted on it, and cinderella had to be called. She first
washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down
before the king's son, who gave her the golden shoe. Then she
seated herself on a stool, drew her foot out of the heavy
wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted like a
glove. And when she rose up and the king's son looked at her
face he recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with
him and cried, that is the true bride. The step-mother and
the two sisters were horrified and became pale with rage, he,
however, took cinderella on his horse and rode away with her. As
they passed by the hazel-tree, the two white doves cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
no blood is in the shoe,
the shoe is not too small for her,
the true bride rides with you,
and when they had cried that, the two came flying down and
placed themselves on cinderella's shoulders, one on the right,
the other on the left, and remained sitting there.
When the wedding with the king's son was to be celebrated, the
two false sisters came and wanted to get into favor with
cinderella and share her good fortune. When the betrothed
couple went to church, the elder was at the right side and the
younger at the left, and the pigeons pecked out one eye from
each of them. Afterwards as they came back the elder was at
the left, and the younger at the right, and then the pigeons
pecked out the other eye from each. And thus, for their
wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness
all their days.
There was once a man who had a daughter who was called clever
elsie. And when she had grown up her father said, we will get
her married. Yes, said the mother, if only someone would come who
would have her. At length a man came from a distance and wooed
her, who was called Hans, but he stipulated that clever elsie
should be really smart. Oh, said the father, she has plenty of
good sense. And the mother said, oh, she can see the wind coming
up the street, and hear the flies coughing.
Well, said Hans, if she is not really smart, I won't have her.
When they were sitting at dinner and had eaten, the mother said,
elsie, go into the cellar and fetch some beer. Then clever elsie
took the pitcher from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped
the lid briskly as she went, so that the time might not appear
long. When she was below she fetched herself a chair, and set
it before the barrel so that she had no need to stoop, and did
not hurt her back or do herself any unexpected injury. Then she
placed the can before her, and turned the tap, and while the
beer was running she would not let her eyes be idle, but looked
up at the wall, and after much peering here and there, saw a
pick-axe exactly above her, which the masons had accidentally
left there.
Then clever elsie began to weep, and said, if I get Hans, and we
have a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar
here to draw beer, then the pick-axe will fall on his head and
kill him. Then she sat and wept and screamed with all the strength
of her body, over the misfortune which lay before her. Those
upstairs waited for the drink, but clever elsie still did not
come. Then the woman said to the servant, just go down into the
cellar and see where elsie is. The maid went and found her
sitting in front of the barrel, screaming loudly. Elsie, why do
you weep, asked the maid. Ah, she answered, have I not reason
to weep. If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big,
and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on his
head, and kill him. Then said the maid, what a clever elsie we
have. And sat down beside her and began loudly to weep over the
misfortune. After a while, as the maid did not come back, those
upstairs were thirsty for the beer, the man said to the boy, just
go down into the cellar and see where elsie and the girl are.
The boy went down, and there sat clever elsie and the girl both
weeping together. Then he asked, why are you weeping, ah, said
elsie, have I not reason to weep. If I get Hans, and we have a
child, and he grows big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe
will fall on his head and kill him. Then said the boy, what a
clever elsie we have. And sat down by her, and likewise began
to howl loudly. Upstairs they
waited for the boy, but as he still did not return, the man said
to the woman, just go down into the cellar and see where elsie is.
The woman went down, and found all three in the midst of their
lamentations, and inquired what was the cause, then elsie told
her also that her future child was to be killed by the pick-axe,
when it grew big and had to draw beer, and the pick-axe fell
down. Then said the mother likewise, what a clever elsie we have.
And sat down and wept with them. The man upstairs waited a short
time, but as his wife did not come back and his thirst grew ever
greater, he said, I must go into the cellar myself and see where
elsie is. But when he got into the cellar, and they were all
sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and that elsie's
child was the cause, and that elsie might perhaps bring one into
the world some day, and that he might be killed by the
pick-axe, if he should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing
beer just at the very time when it fell down, he cried, oh,
what a clever elsie. And sat down, and likewise wept with them.
The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone for a long time, then as
no one would come back he thought, they must be waiting for me
below, I too must go there and see what they are about. When he
got down, the five of them were sitting screaming and lamenting
quite piteously, each out-doing the other. What misfortune has
happened then, he asked. Ah, dear Hans, said elsie, if we marry
each other and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send
him here to draw something to drink, then the pick-axe which has
been left up there might dash his brains out if it were to fall
down, so have we not reason to weep. Come, said Hans, more
understanding than that is not needed for my household, as you
are such a clever elsie, I will have you. And he seized her
hand, took her upstairs with him, and married her.
After Hans had had her some time, he said, wife, I am going
out to work and earn some money for us, go into the field and cut
the corn that we may have some bread. Yes, dear Hans, I will do
that. After Hans had gone away, she cooked herself some good
broth and took it into the field with her. When she came to the
field she said to herself, what shall I do, shall I cut first, or
shall I eat first. Oh, I will eat first. Then she drank her cup
of broth, and when she was fully satisfied, she once more said,
what shall I do. Shall I cut first, or shall I sleep first. I
will sleep first. Then she lay down among the corn and fell
asleep. Hans had been at home for a long time, but elsie did not
come, then said he, what a clever elsie I have, she is so
industrious that she does not even come home to eat. But when
evening came and she still stayed away, Hans went out to see what
she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she was lying among the
corn asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought a fowler's net
with little bells and hung it round about her, and she still
went on sleeping. Then he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat
down in his chair and worked. At length, when it was quite dark,
clever elsie awoke and when she got up there was a jingling all
round about her, and the bells rang at each step which she took.
Then she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether she really was
clever elsie or not, and said, is it I, or is it not I. But she
knew not what answer to make to this, and stood for a time in
doubt, at length she thought, I will go home and ask if it be I,
or if it be not I, they will be sure to know. She ran to the door
of her own house, but it was shut, then she knocked at the
window and cried, Hans, is elsie within. Yes, answered Hans, she
is within. Hereupon she was terrified, and said, ah, heavens.
Then it is not I. And went to another door, but when the people
heard the jingling of the bells they would not open it, and she
could get in nowhere. Then she ran out of the village, and no
one has seen her since.
The mother of Hans said, whither away, Hans. Hans answered, to
Gretel. Behave well, Hans. Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye,
mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel.
Good day, Hans. What do you bring that is good. I bring nothing,
I want to have something given me. Gretel presents Hans with a
needle. Hans says, good-bye, Gretel. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and follows the
cart home. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have
you been. With Gretel. What did you take her. Took her nothing,
had something given me. What did Gretel give you. Gave me a
needle. Where is the needle, Hans. Stuck it in the hay-cart.
That was ill done, Hans. You should have stuck the needle in
your sleeve. Never mind, I'll do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What do you
bring that is good. I bring nothing, I want to have something
given to me. Gretel presents Hans with a knife. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye Hans. Hans takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and
goes home. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where
have you been. With Gretel. What did you take her. Took her
nothing, she gave me something. What did Gretel give you. Gave
me a knife. Where is the knife, Hans. Stuck in my sleeve.
That's ill done, Hans, you should have put the knife in your
pocket. Never mind, will do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, I want something given me.
Gretel presents Hans with a young goat. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye, Hans. Hans takes the goat, ties its legs, and puts it
in his pocket. When he gets home it is suffocated. Good evening,
mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel.
What did you take her. Took nothing, she gave me something. What
did Gretel give you. She gave me a goat. Where is the goat, Hans.
Put it in my pocket. That was ill done, Hans, you should have
put a rope round the goat's neck. Never mind, will do better next
time.
Whither away, Hans, to Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, I want something given to
me. Gretel presents Hans with a piece of bacon. Good-bye,
Gretel. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it away
behind him. The dogs come and devour the bacon. When he gets
home, he has the rope in his hand, and there is no longer
anything hanging to it. Good evening, mother. Good evening,
Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel. What did you take
her. I took her nothing, she gave me something. What did
Gretel give you.
Gave me a bit of bacon. Where is the bacon, Hans. I tied it to
a rope, brought it home, dogs took it. That was ill done, Hans,
you should have carried the bacon on your head. Never mind, will
do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, but would have something
given. Gretel presents Hans with a calf. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the calf, puts it on his head, and the calf kicks his
face. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you
been. With Gretel. What did you take her. I took nothing, but
had something given me. What did Gretel give you. A calf.
Where have you the calf, Hans. I set it on my head and it
kicked my face. That was ill done, Hans, you should have led
the calf, and put it in the stall. Never mind, will do better
next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What
good thing do you bring. I bring nothing, but would have
something given. Gretel says to Hans, I will go with you.
Hans takes Gretel, ties her to a rope, leads her to the rack and
binds her fast. Then Hans goes to his mother. Good evening,
mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel.
What did you take her. I took her nothing. What did Gretel
give you. She gave me nothing, she came with me. Where have
you left Gretel. I led her by the rope, tied her to the rack,
and scattered some grass for her. That was ill done, Hans, you
should have cast friendly eyes on her. Never mind, will do better.
Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves, and sheep's eyes,
and threw them in Gretel's face. Then Gretel became angry, tore
herself loose and ran away, and was no longer the bride of Hans.
Let no one ever say that a poor tailor cannot do great things
and win high honors. All that is needed is that he should go to
the right smithy, and what is of most consequence, that he
should have good luck. A civil, smart tailor's apprentice
once went out traveling, and came into a great forest, and,
as he did not know the way, he lost himself. Night fell and
nothing was left for him to do in this painful solitude, but to
seek a bed. He might certainly have found a good bed on the
soft moss, but the fear of wild beasts let him have no rest
there, and at last he made up his mind to spend the night in
a tree. He sought out a high oak, climbed up to the top of it,
and thanked God that he had his goose with him, for otherwise
the wind which blew over the top of the tree would have carried
him away.
After he had spent some hours in the darkness, not without fear
and trembling, he saw at a very short distance the glimmer of a
light, and as he thought that a human habitation might be there,
where he would be better off than on the branches of a tree, he
got carefully down and went towards the light. It guided him
to a small hut that was woven together of reeds and rushes. He
knocked
boldly, the door opened, and by the light which came forth he saw
a little hoary old man who wore a coat made of bits of colored
stuff sewn together. Who are you, and what do you want, asked
the man in a grumbling voice. I am a poor tailor, he answered,
whom night has surprised here in the wilderness, and I earnestly
beg you to take me into your hut until morning. Go your way,
replied the old man in a surly voice, I will have nothing to do
with tramps, seek for yourself a shelter elsewhere. Having said
this, he was about to slip into his hut again, but the tailor
held him so tightly by the corner of his coat, and pleaded so
piteously, that the old man, who was not so ill-natured as he
wished to appear, was at last softened, and took him into the
hut with him where he gave him something to eat, and then offered
him a very good bed in a corner.
The weary tailor needed no rocking, but slept sweetly till morning,
but even then would not have thought of getting up, if he had
not been aroused by a great noise. A violent sound of screaming
and roaring forced its way through the thin walls of the hut.
The tailor, full of unwonted courage, jumped up, put his clothes
on in haste, and hurried out. Then close by the hut, he saw
a great black bull and a beautiful stag, which were just
preparing for a violent struggle. They rushed at each other with
such extreme rage that the ground shook with their trampling,
and the air resounded with their cries. For a long time it
was uncertain which of the two would gain the victory, at
length the stag thrust his horns into his adversary's body,
whereupon the bull fell to the earth with a terrific roar, and
was finished off by a few strokes from the stag.
The tailor, who had watched the fight with astonishment, was
still standing there motionless, when the stag in full career
bounded up to him, and before he could escape, caught him up
on his great horns. He had not much time to collect his thoughts,
for it went in a swift race over stock and stone, mountain and
valley, wood and meadow. He held with both hands to the ends
of the horns, and resigned himself to his fate. It seemed
to him just as if he were flying away. At length the stag
stopped in front of a wall of rock, and gently let the tailor
down. The tailor, more dead than alive, required
some time to come to himself. When he had in some degree
recovered, the stag, which had remained standing by him, pushed
its horns with such force against a door in the rock, that
it sprang open. Flames of fire shot forth, after which followed
a great smoke, which hid the stag from his sight. The tailor
did not know what to do, or whither to turn, in order to get
out of this desert and back to human beings again. Whilst
he was standing thus undecided, a voice sounded out of the rock,
which cried to him, enter without fear, no evil shall befall you.
He hesitated, but driven by a mysterious force, he obeyed the
voice and went through the iron-door into a large spacious
hall, whose ceiling, walls and floor were made of shining polished
square stones, on each of which were carved signs which were
unknown to him. He looked at everything full of admiration,
and was on the point of going out again, when he once more
heard the voice which said to him, step on the stone
which lies in the middle of the hall, and great good fortune
awaits you.
His courage had already grown so great that he obeyed the order.
The stone began to give way under his feet, and sank slowly down
into the depths. When it was once more firm, and the tailor looked
round, he found himself in a hall which in size resembled the
former. Here, however, there was more to look at and to admire.
Hollow places were cut in the walls, in which stood vases of
transparent glass and filled with colored spirit or with a
bluish vapor. On the floor of the hall two great glass chests
stood opposite to each other, which at once excited his curiosity.
When he went to one of them he saw inside it a handsome structure
like a castle surrounded by farm-buildings, stables and barns,
and a quantity of other good things. Everything was small, but
exceedingly carefully and delicately made, and seemed to be
carved out by a dexterous hand with the greatest precision.
He might not have turned away his eyes from the consideration
of this rarity for some time, had not the voice once more made
itself heard. It ordered him to turn round and look at the
glass chest which was standing opposite. How his admiration
increased when
he saw therein a maiden of the greatest beauty. She lay as if
asleep, and was wrapped in her long fair hair as in a
precious mantle. Her eyes were closely shut, but the brightness
of her complexion and a ribbon which her breathing moved to
and fro, left no doubt that she was alive. The tailor was
looking at the beauty with beating heart, when she suddenly
opened her eyes, and started up at the sight of him with a shock
of joy. Divine providence, cried she, my deliverance is
at hand. Quick, quick, help me out of my prison. If you
push back the bolt of this glass coffin, then I shall be free.
The tailor obeyed without delay, and she immediately raised up
the glass lid, came out and hastened into the corner of the hall,
where she covered herself with a large cloak. Then she seated
herself on a
stone, ordered the young man to come to her, and after she had
imprinted a friendly kiss on his lips, she said, my long-desired
deliverer, kind heaven has guided you to me, and put an end
to my sorrows. On the self-same day when they end, shall your
happiness begin. You are the husband chosen for me by heaven, and
shall pass your life in unbroken joy, loved by me, and rich to
overflowing in every earthly possession. Seat yourself, and
listen to the story of my life.
I am the daughter of a rich count. My parents died when I was
still in my tender youth, and recommended me in their last will
to my elder brother, by whom I was brought up. We loved each
other so tenderly, and were so alike in our way of thinking
and our inclinations, that we both embraced the resolution
never to marry, but to stay together to the end of our lives.
In our house there was no lack of company. Neighbors and friends
visited us often, and we showed the greatest hospitality to
every one. So it came to pass one evening that a stranger came
riding to our castle, and, under pretext of not being able to
get on to the next place, begged for shelter for the night.
We granted his request with ready courtesy, and he entertained us
in the most agreeable manner during supper by conversation
intermingled with stories. My brother liked the stranger so
much that he begged him to spend a couple of days with us, to
which, after some hesitation, he consented. We did not rise
from table until late in the night, the stranger was shown to
a room, and I hastened, as I was tired, to lay my limbs in
my soft bed. Hardly had I fallen off to sleep, when the sound
of faint and delightful music awoke me. As I could not
conceive from whence it came, I wanted to summon my waiting-maid
who slept in the next room, but to my astonishment I found that
speech was taken away from me by an unknown force. I felt as if
a nightmare were weighing down my breast, and was unable to make
the very slightest sound. In the meantime, by the light of
my night-lamp, I saw the stranger enter my room through two
doors which were fast bolted. He came to me and said, that
by magic arts which were at his command, he had caused the
lovely music to sound in order to awaken me, and
that he now forced his way through all fastenings with the
intention of offering his hand and heart. My dislike of his
magic arts was so great, however, that I refused to answer him.
He remained for a time standing without moving, apparently with
the idea of waiting for a favorable decision, but as I continued
to keep silence, he angrily declared he would revenge himself
and find means to punish my pride, and left the room. I
passed the night in the greatest disquietude, and fell asleep
only towards morning. When I awoke, I hurried to my brother, but
did not find him in his room, and the attendants told me that he
had ridden forth with the stranger to the chase at daybreak.
I at once suspected nothing good. I dressed myself quickly,
ordered my palfrey to be saddled, and accompanied only by one
servant, rode full gallop to the forest. The servant fell with
his horse, and could not follow me, for the horse had broken its
foot. I pursued my way without halting, and in a few minutes
I saw the stranger coming towards me with a beautiful stag which
he led by a cord. I asked him where he had left my brother, and
how he had come by this stag, out of whose great eyes I saw
tears flowing. Instead of answering me, he began to laugh
loudly. I fell into a great rage at this, pulled out a pistol
and discharged it at the monster, but the ball rebounded from
his breast and went into my horse's head. I fell to the ground,
and the stranger muttered some words which deprived me of
consciousness.
When I came to my senses again I found myself in this underground
cave in a glass coffin. The magician appeared once again, and
said he had changed my brother into a stag, my castle with all
that belonged to it, diminished in size by his arts, he had
shut up in the other glass chest, and my people, who were all
turned into smoke, he had confined in glass bottles. He
told me that if I would now comply with his wish, it would be an
easy thing for him to put everything back in its former state, as
he had nothing to do but open the vessels, and everything would
return once more to its natural form. I answered him as little
as I had done the first time. He vanished and left me in my
prison, in which a deep sleep came on me.
Among the visions which passed before my eyes, the most
comforting was that in which a young man came and set me free,
and when I opened my eyes to-day I saw you, and beheld my
dream fulfilled. Help me to accomplish the other things
which happened in those visions. The first is that we lift the
glass chest in which my castle is enclosed, on to that broad stone.
As soon as the stone was laden, it began to rise up on high with
the maiden and the young man, and mounted through the opening
of the ceiling into the upper hall, from whence they then could
easily reach the open air. Here the maiden opened the lid, and
it was marvellous to behold how the castle, the houses, and
the farm buildings which were enclosed, stretched themselves out
and grew to their natural size with the greatest rapidity.
After this, the maiden and the tailor returned to the cave beneath
the earth, and had the vessels which were filled with smoke
carried up by the stone. The maiden had scarcely opened the
bottles when the blue smoke rushed out and changed itself into
living men, in whom she recognized her servants and her people.
Her joy was still more increased when her brother, who had
killed the magician in the form of the bull, came out of the
forest towards them in his human form, and on the self-same day
the maiden, in accordance with her promise, gave her hand at the
altar to the lucky tailor.
There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold
her for seven talers. On the way home he had to pass a pond, and
already from afar he heard the frogs crying, aik, aik, aik, aik.
Well, said he to himself, they are talking without rhyme or reason,
it is seven that I have received, not eight. When he got to the
water, he cried to them, stupid animals that you are. Don't you know
better than that. It is seven thalers and not eight. The frogs,
however, stuck to their, aik aik, aik, aik. Come, then, if you won't
believe it, I can count it out to you. And he took his money out of
his pocket and counted out the seven talers, always reckoning four
and twenty groschen to a taler. The frogs, however, paid no
attention to his reckoning, but still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik.
What, cried the peasant, quite angry, if you know better than I,
count it yourselves, and threw all the money at them into the water.
He stood still and wanted to wait until they were through and had
returned to him what was his, but the frogs maintained their opinion
and cried continually, aik, aik, aik, aik. And besides that, did not
throw the money out again. He still waited a long while until
evening came on and he was forced to go home. Then he abused the
frogs and cried, you water-splashers, you thick-heads, you
goggle-eyes, you have great mouths and can screech till you hurt
one's ears, but you cannot count seven talers. Do you think I'm
going to stand here till you get through. And with that he went
away, but the frogs still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik, after him till
he went home sorely vexed. After a while he bought another cow, which
he slaughtered, and he made the calculation that if he sold the meat
well he might gain as much as the two cows were worth, and have the
hide into the bargain. When therefore he got to the town with the
meat, a great pack of dogs were gathered together in front of the
gate, with a large greyhound at the head of them, which jumped at the
meat, sniffed at it, and barked, wow, wow, wow. As there was no
stopping him, the peasant said to him, yes, yes, I know quite well
that you are saying wow, wow, wow, because you want some of the meat,
but I should be in a fine state if I were to give it to you. The
dog, however, answered nothing but wow, wow. Will you promise not to
devour it all then, and will you go bail for your companions. Wow,
wow, wow, said the dog. Well, if you insist on it, I will leave it
for you, I know you well, and know whom you serve, but this I tell
you, I must have my money in three days or else it will go ill with
you, you can just bring it out to me. Thereupon he unloaded the meat
and turned back again. The dogs fell upon it and loudly barked, wow,
wow. The countryman, who heard them from afar, said to himself, hark,
now they all want some, but the big one is responsible to me for it.
When three days had passed, the countryman thought, to-night my money
will be in my pocket, and was quite delighted. But no one would come
and pay it. There is no trusting any one now, said he. At last he
lost patience, and went into the town to the butcher and demanded his
money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but the peasant said,
jesting apart, I will have my money. Did not the big dog bring you
the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago. Then the butcher
grew angry, snatched a broomstick and drove him out. Wait, said the
peasant, there is still some justice in the world, and went to the
royal palace and begged for an audience. He was led before the king,
who sat there with his daughter, and asked him what injury he had
suffered. Alas, said he, the frogs and the dogs have taken from me
what is mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with the stick. And
he related at full length what had happened. Thereupon the king's
daughter began to laugh heartily, and the king said to him, I cannot
give you justice in this, but you shall have my daughter to wife for
it - in her whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done
at you, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh. You
may thank God for your good fortune. Oh, answered the peasant, I do
not want her at all. I have a wife already, and she is one too many
for me, when I go home, it is just as if I had a wife standing in
every corner. Then the king grew angry, and said, you are a boor.
Ah, lord king, replied the peasant, what can you expect from an ox,
but beef. Stop, answered the king, you shall have another reward.
Be off now, but come back in three days, and then you shall have five
hundred counted out in full. When the peasant went out by the gate,
the sentry said, you have made the king's daughter laugh, so you will
certainly receive something good. Yes, that is what I think,
answered the peasant, five hundred are to be counted out to me.
Listen, said the soldier, give me some of it. What can you do with
all that money. As it is you, said the peasant, you shall have two
hundred, present yourself in three days, time before the king, and
let it be paid to you. A Jew, who was standing by and had heard the
conversation, ran after the peasant, held him by the coat, and said,
oh, wonder of God, what a child of fortune you are. I will change it
for you, I will change it for you into small coins, what do you want
with the great talers. Jew, said the countryman, three hundred can
you still have, give it to me at once in coin, in three days from
this, you will be paid for it by the king. The Jew was delighted
with the small profit, and brought the sum in bad groschen, three of
which were worth two good ones. After three days had passed,
according to the king's command, the peasant went before the king.
Pull his coat off, said the latter, and he shall have his five
hundred. Ah, said the peasant, they no longer belong to me, I
presented two hundred of them to the sentry, and three hundred the
Jew has changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me. In
the meantime the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they
had gained from the peasant, and they received the blows strictly
counted out. The soldier bore it patiently and knew already how it
tasted, but the Jew said sorrowfully, alas, alas, are these the heavy
talers. The king could not help laughing at the peasant, and when
all his anger was spent, he said, as you have already lost your
reward before it fell to your lot, I will give you compensation. Go
into my treasure chamber and get some money for yourself, as much as
you will. The peasant did not need to be told twice, and stuffed
into his big pockets whatsoever would go in. Afterwards he went to
an inn and counted out his money. The Jew had crept after him and
heard how he muttered to himself, that rogue of a king has cheated me
after all, why could he not have given me the money himself, and then
I should have known what I had. How can I tell now if what I have
had the luck to put in my pockets is right or not. Good heavens,
said the Jew to himself, that man is speaking disrespectfully of our
lord the king, I will run and inform, and then I shall get a reward,
and he will be punished as well. When the king heard of the peasant's
words he fell into a passion, and commanded the Jew to go and bring
the offender to him. The Jew ran to the peasant, you are to go at
once to the lord king in the very clothes you have on. I know what's
right better than that, answered the peasant, I shall have a new coat
made first. Do you think that a man with so much money in his pocket
should go there in his ragged old coat. The Jew, as he saw that the
peasant would not stir without another coat, and as he feared that if
the king's anger cooled, he himself would lose his reward, and the
peasant his punishment, said, I will out of pure friendship lend you
a coat for the short time. What people will not do for love. The
peasant was contented with this, put the Jew's coat on, and went off
with him. The king reproached the countryman because of the evil
speaking of which the Jew had informed him. Ah, said the peasant,
what a Jew says is always false - no true word ever comes out of his
mouth. That rascal there is capable of maintaining that I have his
coat on. What is that, shrieked the Jew, is the coat not mine. Have
I not lent it to you out of pure friendship, in order that you might
appear before the lord king. When the king heard that, he said, the
Jew has assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or
the peasant. And again he ordered something to be counted out to him
in hard thalers. The peasant, however, went home in the good coat,
with the good money in his pocket, and said to himself, this time I
have made it.
Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him,
master, my time is up, now I should be glad to go back home to my
mother, give me my wages. The master answered, you have served me
faithfully and honestly, as the service was so shall the reward be.
And he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his
handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on
his shoulder, and set out on the way home.
As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a
horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. Ah, said
Hans quite loud, what a fine thing it is to ride. There you sit as
on a chair, you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and
cover the ground, you don't know how.
The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, hi, there,
Hans, why do you go on foot, then.
I must, answered he, for I have this lump to carry home, it is true
that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it
hurts my shoulder.
I will tell you what, said the rider, we will exchange, I will give
you my horse, and you can give me your lump. With all my heart, said
Hans, but I can tell you, you will have to crawl along with it.
The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up, then gave him
the bridle tight in his hands and said, if you want to go at a really
good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, jup. Jup.
Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so
bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go
faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, jup.
Jup. The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew
where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated
the field from the highway. The horse would have gone off too if it
had not been stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road
and driving a cow before him.
Hans pulled himself together and stood up on his legs again, but he
was vexed, and said to the countryman, it is a poor joke, this
riding, especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks
and throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one's neck.
Never again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk
quietly behind her, and have, over and above, one's milk, butter and
cheese every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a
cow. Well, said the countryman, if it would give you so much
pleasure, I do not mind giving the cow for the horse. Hans agreed
with the greatest delight, the countryman jumped upon the horse, and
rode quickly away.
Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky
bargain. If only I have a morsel of bread - and that can hardly fail
me - I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like, if I am
thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. My goodness, what
more can I want.
When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great concern ate
up what he had with him - his dinner and supper - and all he had, and
with his last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove
his cow onwards along the road to his mother's village.
As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans
found himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross. He
felt it very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with
thirst. I can find a cure for this, thought Hans, I will milk the
cow now and refresh myself with the milk. He tied her to a withered
tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath, but
try as he would, not a drop of milk came. And as he set himself to
work in a clumsy way, the impatient beast at last gave him such a
blow on his head with its hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and
for a long time could not think where he was.
By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a
wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig. What sort of a trick is
this, cried he, and helped the good Hans up. Hans told him what had
happened. The butcher gave him his flask and said, take a drink and
refresh yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old
beast, at the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.
Well, well, said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, who
would have thought it. Certainly it is a fine thing when one can
kill a beast like that at home, what meat one has. But I do not care
much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me. A young pig like that
now is the thing to have, it tastes quite different, and then there
are the sausages.
Listen, Hans, said the butcher, out of love for you I will exchange,
and will let you have the pig for the cow. Heaven repay you for your
kindness, said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was unbound
from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in his
hand.
Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as
he wished, if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set
right. Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine
white goose under his arm. They said good morning to each other, and
Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such
good bargains. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a
christening-feast. Just lift her, added he, and laid hold of her by
the wings, how heavy she is - she has been fattened up for the last
eight weeks. Whosoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will
have to wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth. Yes, said Hans,
as he weighed her in one hand, she is a good weight, but my pig is no
bad one.
Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and
shook his head. Look here, he said at length, it may not be all
right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the
mayor himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear - I
fear that you have got hold of it there. They have sent out some
people and it would be a bad business if they caught you with the
pig, at the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole.
The good Hans was terrified. Goodness, he said, help me out of this
fix, you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave
me your goose. I shall risk something at that game, answered the
lad, but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble. So he
took the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a
by-path.
The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under
his arm. When I think over it properly, said he to himself, I have
even gained by the exchange. First there is the good roast meat,
then the quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give
me dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the
beautiful white feathers. I will have my pillow stuffed with them,
and then indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking. How glad my
mother will be.
As he was going through the last village, there stood a
scissors-grinder with his barrow, as his wheel whirred he sang,
I sharpen scissors and quickly grind,
my coat blows out in the wind behind.
Hans stood still and looked at him, at last he spoke to him and said,
all's well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding. Yes,
answered the scissors-grinder, the trade has a golden foundation. A
real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his
pocket finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?
I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.
And the pig?
That I got for a cow.
And the cow?
I took that instead of a horse.
And the horse?
For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.
And the gold?
Well, that was my wages for seven years, service.
You have known how to look after yourself each time, said the
grinder. If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle
in your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your
fortune.
How shall I manage that, said Hans. You must be a grinder, as I am,
nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds
itself. I have one here, it is certainly a little worn, but you need
not give me anything for it but your goose, will you do it?
How can you ask, answered Hans. I shall be the luckiest fellow on
earth. If I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, why
should I ever worry again. And he handed him the goose and received
the grindstone in exchange. Now, said the grinder, as he took up an
ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, here is a strong stone for you
into the bargain, you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your
old nails. Take it with you and keep it carefully. Hans loaded
himself with the stones, and went on with a contented heart, his eyes
shining with joy. I must have been born with a caul, he cried,
everything I want happens to me just as if I were a sunday-child.
Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to
feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain
by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at
once. At last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced
to stop every minute, the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully.
Then he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to
carry them just then.
He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that
he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but
in order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid
them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down
on it, and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed
against the stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans
saw them with his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy,
and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for
having shown him this favor also, and delivered him in so good a way,
and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy
stones which had been the only things that troubled him.
There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I, he cried out. With a
light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was
with his mother at home.
Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife
and his two children. The boy was called Hansel and the
girl Gretel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when
great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily
bread. Now when he thought over this by night in his bed, and
tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife, what
is to become of us. How are we to feed our poor children, when
we no longer have anything even for ourselves. I'll tell you what,
husband, answered the woman, early to-morrow morning we
will take the children out into the forest to where it is the
thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of
them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and
leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we
shall be rid of them. No, wife, said the man, I will not do that.
How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest. The wild
animals would soon come and tear them to pieces. O' you fool, said
she, then we must all four die of hunger, you may as well plane the
planks for our coffins, and she left him no peace until he
consented. But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the
same, said the man.
The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and
had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Gretel
wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel, now all is over with us.
Be quiet, Gretel, said Hansel, do not distress yourself, I will soon
find a way to help us. And when the old folks had fallen asleep,
he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept
outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay
in front of the house glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel
stooped and stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he
could get in. Then he went back and said to Gretel, be comforted,
dear little sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us, and
he lay down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the
sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying
get up, you sluggards. We are going into the forest to fetch
wood. She gave each a little piece of bread, and said, there is
something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you
will get nothing else. Gretel took the bread under her apron, as
Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out
together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short
time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so
again and again. His father said, Hansel, what are you looking at
there and staying behind for. Pay attention, and do not forget how
to use your legs. Ah, father, said Hansel, I am looking at my
little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say
good-bye to me. The wife said, fool, that is not your little cat,
that is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys. Hansel,
however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been
constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his pocket
on the road.
When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said,
now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you
may not be cold. Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood together,
as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the
flames were burning very high, the woman said, now, children,
lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest
and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and
fetch you away.
Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate
a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the
wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was not the
axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree
which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had
been sitting such a long time, their eyes closed with fatigue, and
they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was already dark
night. Gretel began to cry and said, how are we to get out of the
forest now. But Hansel comforted her and said, just wait a little,
until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way. And
when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the
hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver
pieces, and showed them the way.
They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came
once more to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and
when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel,
she said, you naughty children, why have you slept so long in the
forest. We thought you were never coming back at all. The father,
however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them
behind alone.
Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth throughout
the land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to
their father, everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left,
and that is the end. The children must go, we will take them
farther into the wood, so that they will not find their way out
again. There is no other means of saving ourselves. The man's
heart was heavy, and he thought, it would be better for you to share
the last mouthful with your children. The woman, however, would
listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached
him. He who says a must say b, likewise, and as he had yielded the
first time, he had to do so a second time also.
The children, however, were still awake and had heard the
conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up,
and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but
the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out.
Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, do not cry,
Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.
Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of
their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was
still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest
Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a
morsel on the ground. Hansel, why do you stop and look round.
Said the father, go on. I am looking back at my little pigeon
which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me,
answered Hansel. Fool. Said the woman, that is not your little
pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.
Hansel, however, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path.
The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they
had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again
made, and the mother said, just sit there, you children, and when
you are tired you may sleep a little. We are going into the forest
to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and
fetch you away. When it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of
bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they
fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to the poor
children. They did not awake until it was dark night, and Hansel
comforted his little sister and said, just wait, Gretel, until the
moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have
strewn about, they will show us our way home again. When the moon
came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands
of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all
up. Hansel said to Gretel, we shall soon find the way, but they did
not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day too
from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest,
and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three
berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that
their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree
and fell asleep.
It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house.
They began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the
forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and
weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white
bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood
still and listened to it. And when its song was over, it spread its
wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until they
reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted. And when
they approached the little house they saw that it was built of
bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear
sugar. We will set to work on that, said Hansel, and have a good
meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and you Gretel, can eat some
of the window, it will taste sweet. Hansel reached up above, and
broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel
leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft
voice cried from the parlor -
nibble, nibble, gnaw
who is nibbling at my little house.
The children answered -
the wind, the wind,
the heaven-born wind,
and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who
liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and
Gretel pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and
enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman
as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came
creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were so terribly frightened that
they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however,
nodded her head, and said, oh, you dear children, who has brought
you here. Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to
you. She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little
house. Then good food was set before them, milk and pancakes,
with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds
were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down
in them, and thought they were in heaven.
The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. She was in reality
a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the
little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child
fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that
was a feast day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see
far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when
human beings draw near. When Hansel and Gretel came into her
neighborhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly, I have
them, they shall not escape me again. Early in the morning before
the children were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both
of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy
cheeks, she muttered to herself, that will be a dainty mouthful.
Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled hand, carried
him into a little stable, and locked him in behind a grated door.
Scream as he might, it would not help him. Then she went to
Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, get up, lazy thing,
fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is
in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I
will eat him. Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in
vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.
And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel
got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the
little stable, and cried, Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may
feel if you will soon be fat. Hansel, however, stretched out a
little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not
see it, and thought it was Hansel's finger, and was astonished that
there was no way of fattening him. When four weeks had gone by,
and Hansel still remained thin, she was seized with impatience and
would not wait any longer. Now, then, Gretel, she cried to the
girl, stir yourself, and bring some water. Let Hansel be fat or
lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him. Ah, how the poor
little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how
her tears did flow down her cheeks. Dear God, do help us, she
cried. If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we
should at any rate have died together. Just keep your noise to
yourself, said the old woman, it won't help you at all.
Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out and hang up the
cauldron with the water, and light the fire. We will bake first,
said the old woman, I have already heated the oven, and kneaded
the dough. She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which
flames of fire were already darting. Creep in, said the witch,
and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.
And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let
her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Gretel saw
what she had in mind, and said, I do not know how I am to do it.
How do I get in. Silly goose, said the old woman, the door is big
enough. Just look, I can get in myself, and she crept up and
thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that
drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the
bolt. Oh. Then she began to howl quite horribly, but Gretel ran
away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.
Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little
stable, and cried, Hansel, we are saved. The old witch is dead.
Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is
opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance
about and kiss each other. And as they had no longer any need to
fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner
there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. These are far better
than pebbles. Said Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever
could be got in, and Gretel said, I, too, will take something home
with me, and filled her pinafore full. But now we must be off, said
Hansel, that we may get out of the witch's forest.
When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great
stretch of water. We cannot cross, said Hansel, I see no
foot-plank, and no bridge. And there is also no ferry, answered
Gretel, but a white duck is swimming there. If I ask her, she
will help us over. Then she cried -
little duck, little duck, dost thou see,
Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee.
There's never a plank, or bridge in sight,
take us across on thy back so white.
The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back,
and told his sister to sit by him. No, replied Gretel, that will be
too heavy for the little duck. She shall take us across, one after
the other. The good little duck did so, and when they were once
safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to
be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from
afar their father's house. Then they began to run, rushed into the
parlor, and threw themselves round their father's neck. The man
had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the
forest. The woman, however, was dead. Gretel emptied her
pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the room, and
Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to
them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in
perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a mouse, whosoever
catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it.
***There was once upon a time a king who had a great forest near
his palace, full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent
out a huntsman to shoot him a roe, but he did not come back.
Perhaps some accident has befallen him, said the king, and the
next day he sent out two more huntsmen who were to search for him,
but they too stayed away. Then on the third day, he sent for all
his huntsmen, and said, scour the whole forest through, and do
not give up until you have found all three. But of these also,
none came home again, and of the pack of hounds which they had
taken with them, none were seen again. From that time forth,
no one would any longer venture into the forest, and it lay
there in deep stillness and solitude, and nothing was seen of it,
but sometimes an eagle or a hawk flying over it. This lasted
for many years, when an unknown huntsman announced himself
to the king as seeking a situation, and offered to go into the
dangerous forest. The king, however, would not give his consent,
and said, it is not safe in there, I fear it would fare with you
no better than with the others, and you would never come out
again. The huntsman replied, lord, I will venture it at my own
risk, of fear I know nothing.
The huntsman therefore betook himself with his dog to the forest.
It was not long before the dog fell in with some game on the way,
and wanted to pursue it, but hardly had the dog run two steps
when it stood before a deep pool, could go no farther, and a
naked
arm stretched itself out of the water, seized it, and drew it
under. When the huntsman saw that, he went back and fetched
three men to come with buckets and bale out the water. When
they could see to the bottom there lay a wild man whose body
was brown like rusty iron, and whose hair hung over his face
down to his knees. They bound him with cords, and led
him away to the castle. There was great astonishment over the
wild man, the king, however, had him put in an iron cage in his
court-yard, and forbade the door to be opened on pain of death,
and the queen herself was to take the key into her keeping.
And from this time forth every one could again go into the
forest with safety.
The king had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the
court-yard, and while he was playing, his golden ball fell into
the cage. The boy ran thither and said, give me my ball out.
Not till you have opened the door for me, answered the man. No,
said the boy, I will not do that, the king has forbidden it,
and ran away. The next day he again went and asked for his
ball. The wild man said, open my
door, but the boy would not. On the third day the king had
ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, I
cannot open the door even if I wished, for I have not the key.
Then the wild man said, it lies under your mother's pillow,
you can get it there. The boy, who wanted to have his ball back,
cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key. The door
opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his fingers. When
it was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball,
and hurried away. The boy had become afraid, he called and
cried after him, oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall be
beaten. The wild man turned back, took him up, set him on his
shoulder, and went with hasty steps into the forest. When the
king came home, he observed the empty cage, and asked the queen
how that had happened. She knew nothing about it, and sought the
key, but it was gone. She called the boy, but no one answered.
The king sent out people to seek for him in the fields, but
they did not find him. Then he could easily guess what had
happened, and much grief reigned in the royal court.
When the wild man had once more reached the dark forest, he
took the boy down from his shoulder, and said to him, you
will never see your father and mother again, but I will keep
you with me, for you have set me free, and I have compassion
on you. If you do all I bid you, you shall fare well. Of
treasure and gold have I enough, and more than anyone in the
world. He made a bed of moss for the boy on which he slept,
and the next morning the man took him to a well, and said,
behold, the gold well is as bright and clear as crystal, you
shall sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into
it, or it will be polluted. I will come every evening to see if
you have obeyed my order. The boy placed himself by the brink of
the well, and often saw a golden fish or a golden snake show
itself therein, and took care that nothing fell in. As he was
thus sitting, his finger hurt him so violently that he
involuntarily put it in the water. He drew it quickly out
again, but saw that it was quite gilded, and whatsoever pains
he took to wash the gold off again, all was to no purpose. In
the evening iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said,
what has happened to the well. Nothing,
nothing, he answered, and held his finger behind his back, that
the man might not see it. But he said, you have dipped your
finger into the water, this time it may pass, but take care
you do not again let anything go in. By daybreak the boy was
already sitting by the well and watching it. His finger hurt
him again and he passed it over his head, and then unhappily
a hair fell down into the well. He took it quickly out, but
it was already quite gilded. Iron Hans came, and already knew
what had happened. You have let a hair fall into the well,
said he. I will allow you to watch by it once more, but if this
happens for the third time then the well is polluted, and you
can no longer remain with me.
On the third day, the boy sat by the well, and did not stir his
finger, however much it hurt him. But the time was long to
him, and he looked at the reflection of his face on the surface
of the water. And as he still bent down more and more while he
was doing so, and trying to look straight into the eyes, his
long hair fell down from his shoulders into the water. He
raised himself up quickly, but the whole of the hair of his head
was already golden and shone like the sun. You can imagine how
terrified the poor boy was. He took his pocket-handkerchief
and tied it round his head, in order that the man might not
see it. When he came he already knew everything, and said,
take the handkerchief off. Then the golden hair streamed forth,
and let the boy excuse himself as he might, it was of no use.
You have not stood the trial, and can stay here no longer. Go
forth into the world, there you will learn what poverty is. But
as you have not a bad heart, and as I mean well by you, there is
one thing I will grant you. If you fall into any difficulty,
come to the forest and cry, iron Hans, and then I will come and
help you. My power is great, greater than you think, and I have
gold and silver in abundance.
Then the king's son left the forest, and walked by beaten and
unbeaten paths ever onwards until at length he reached a great
city. There he looked for work, but could find none, and he
had learnt nothing by which he could help himself. At length
he went to the palace, and asked if they would take him in.
The people about
court did not at all know what use they could make of him, but
they liked him, and told him to stay. At length the cook took
him into his service, and said he might carry wood and water, and
rake the cinders together. Once when it so happened that
no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the
food to the royal table, but as he did not like to let his
golden hair be seen, he kept his little cap on. Such a thing
as that had never yet come under the king's notice, and he said,
when you come to the royal table you must take your hat off. He
answered, ah, lord, I cannot. I have a bad sore place on my
head. Then the king had the cook called before him and scolded
him, and asked how he could take such a boy as that into his
service, and that he was to send him away at once. The cook,
however, had pity on him, and exchanged him for the gardener's
boy.
And now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig,
and bear the wind and bad weather. Once in summer when he was
working alone in the garden, the day was so warm he took his
little cap off that the air might cool him. As the sun shone
on his hair it glittered and flashed so that the rays fell into
the bed-room of the king's daughter, and up she sprang to
see what that could be. Then she saw the boy, and cried to
him, boy, bring me a wreath of flowers. He put his cap on
with all haste, and gathered wild field-flowers and bound them
together. When he was ascending the stairs with them, the
gardener met him, and said, how can you take the king's daughter a
garland of such common flowers. Go quickly, and get another,
and seek out the prettiest and rarest. Oh, no, replied the
boy, the wild ones have more scent, and will please her better.
When he got into the room, the king's daughter said, take
your cap off, it is not seemly to keep it on in my presence.
He again said, I may not, I have a sore head. She, however,
caught at his cap and pulled it off, and then his golden hair
rolled down on his shoulders, and it was splendid to behold.
He wanted to run out, but she held him by the arm, and gave him
a handful of ducats. With these he departed, but he cared
nothing for the gold pieces. He took them to the gardener, and
said, I present them to
your children, they can play with them. The following day the
king's daughter again called to him that he was to bring her a
wreath of field-flowers, and when he went in with it, she
instantly snatched at his cap, and wanted to take it away from
him, but he held it fast with both hands. She again gave him a
handful of ducats, but he would not keep them, and gave them
to the gardener for playthings for his children. On the third
day things went just the same. She could not get his cap away
from him, and he would not have her money.
Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The king
gathered together his people, and did not know whether or not
he could offer any opposition to the enemy, who was superior
in strength and had a mighty army. Then said the gardener's boy,
I am grown up, and will go to the wars also, only give me a
I am grown up, and will go the the wars also, only give me a
horse. The others laughed, and said, seek one for yourself when
we are gone, we will leave one behind us in the stable for you.
When they had gone forth, he went into the stable, and led the
horse out. It was lame of one foot, and limped hobblety
jig, hobblety jig, nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away
to the dark forest. When he came to the outskirts, he called
'iron Hans, three times so loudly that it echoed through the
trees. Thereupon the wild man appeared immediately, and said,
what do you desire. I want a strong steed, for I am going to the
wars. That you shall have, and still more than you ask for.
Then the wild man went back into the forest, and it was not
long before a stable-boy came out of it, who led a horse that
snorted with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained,
and behind them followed a great troop of warriors entirely
equipped in iron, and their swords flashed in the sun. The
youth made over his three-legged horse to the stable-boy,
mounted the other, and rode at the head of the soldiers. When
he got near the battle-field a great part of the king's men had
already fallen, and little was wanting to make the rest give way.
Then the youth galloped thither with his iron soldiers, broke
like a hurricane over the enemy, and beat down all who opposed
him. They began to flee, but the youth pursued, and never
stopped, until there was not a single man left. Instead
of returning to the king, however, he conducted his troop
by byways back to the forest, and called forth iron Hans.
What do you desire, asked the wild man. Take back your horse and
your troops, and give me my three-legged horse again. All
that he asked was done, and soon he was riding on his three-legged
horse. When the king returned to his palace, his daughter went
to meet him, and wished him joy of his victory. I am not the
one who carried away the victory, said he, but a strange knight
who came to my assistance with his soldiers. The daughter
wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the king did
not know, and said, he followed the enemy, and I did not see him
again. She inquired of the gardener where his boy was, but he
smiled, and said, he has just come home on his three-legged
horse, and the others have been mocking him, and crying, here
comes our hobblety jig back again. They asked, too, under
what hedge have you been lying sleeping all the time. So he
said, I did the best of all, and it would have gone badly without
me. And then he was still more ridiculed.
The king said to his daughter, I will proclaim a great feast
that shall last for three days, and you shall throw a golden
apple. Perhaps the unknown man will show himself. When the
feast was announced, the youth went out to the forest, and called
iron Hans. What do you desire, asked he. That I may catch the
king's daughter's golden apple. It is as safe as if you had
it already, said iron Hans. You shall likewise have a suit of
red armor for the occasion, and ride on a spirited chestnut-horse.
When the day came, the youth galloped to the spot, took his
place amongst the knights, and was recognized by no one. The
king's daughter came forward, and threw a golden apple to the
knights, but none of them caught it but he, only as soon as he
had it he galloped away.
On the second day iron Hans equipped him as a white knight, and
gave him a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught
the apple, and he did not linger an instant, but galloped
off with it. The king grew angry, and said, that is not allowed.
He must appear before me and tell his name. He gave the order
that if the knight who caught the apple, should go away again
they should
pursue him, and if he would not come back willingly, they were
to cut him down and stab him.
On the third day, he received from iron Hans a suit of black armor
and a black horse, and again he caught the apple. But when he was
riding off with it, the king's attendants pursued him, and
one of them got so near him that he wounded the youth's leg
with the point of his sword. The youth nevertheless escaped
from them, but his horse leapt so violently that the helmet fell
from the youth's head, and they could see that he had golden
hair. They rode back and announced this to the king.
The following day the king's daughter asked the gardener about
his boy. He is at work in the garden. The queer creature has
been at the festival too, and only came home yesterday evening.
He has likewise shown my children three golden apples which he
has won.
The king had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again
had his little cap on his head. But the king's daughter went up
to him and took it off, and then his golden hair fell down
over his shoulders, and he was so handsome that all were amazed.
Are you the knight who came every day to the festival, always in
different colors, and who caught the three golden apples, asked
the king. Yes, answered he, and here the apples are, and he
took them out of his pocket, and returned them to the king. If
you desire further proof, you may see the wound which your people
gave me when they followed me. But I am likewise the knight
who helped you to your victory over your enemies. If you can
perform such deeds as that, you are no gardener's boy, tell me,
who is your father. My father is a mighty king, and gold have
I in plenty as great as I require. I well see, said the king,
that I owe thanks to you, can I do anything to please you. Yes,
answered he, that indeed you can. Give me your daughter to wife.
The maiden laughed, and said, he does not stand much on ceremony,
but I have already seen by his golden hair that he was no
gardener's boy, and then she went and kissed him. His father and
mother came to the wedding, and were in great delight, for they
had given up all
hope of ever seeing their dear son again. And as they were sitting
at the marriage-feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors
opened, and a stately king came in with a great retinue. He went
up to the youth, embraced him and said, I am iron Hans, and was by
enchantment a wild man, but you have set me free. All the
treasures which I possess, shall be your property.
There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into
poverty, and at last their need was so great that they had to endure
hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then said they, it cannot go
on like this, we had better go into the world and seek our fortune.
They therefore set out, and had already walked over many a long road
and many a blade of grass, but had not yet met with good luck. One
day they arrived in a great forest, and in the midst of it was a
hill, and when they came nearer they saw that the hill was all
silver. Then spoke the eldest, now I have found the good luck I
wished for, and I desire nothing more. He took as much of the silver
as he could possibly carry, and then turned back and went home again.
But the two others said, we want something more from good luck than
mere silver, and did not touch it, but went onwards. After they had
walked for two days longer without stopping, they came to a hill
which was all gold. The second brother stopped, took thought with
himself, and was undecided. What shall I do, said he, shall I take
for myself so much of this gold, that I have sufficient for all the
rest of my life, or shall I go farther. At length he made a
decision, and putting as much into his pockets as would go in, said
farewell to his brother, and went home.
But the third said, silver and gold do not move me, I will not
renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will be
given me. He journeyed onwards, and when he had walked for three
days, he came to a forest which was still larger than the one before,
and never would come to an end, and as he found nothing to eat or to
drink, he was all but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to
find out if up there he could see the end of the forest, but so far
as his eye could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then
he began to descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he
thought to himself, if I could but eat my fill once more.
When he got down he saw with astonishment a table beneath the tree
richly spread with food, the steam of which rose up to meet him.
This time, said he, my wish has been fulfilled at the right moment.
And without inquiring who had brought the food, or who had cooked it,
he approached the table, and ate with enjoyment until he had appeased
his hunger. When he was done, he thought, it would after all be a
pity if the pretty little table-cloth were to be spoilt in the forest
here, and folded it up tidily and put it in his pocket. Then he went
onwards, and in the evening, when hunger once more returned to him,
he wanted to make a trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and
said, I wish you to be covered with good cheer again, and scarcely
had the wish crossed his lips than as many dishes with the most
exquisite food on them stood on the table as there was room for. Now
I perceive, said he, in what kitchen my cooking is done. You shall
be dearer to me than the mountains of silver and gold. For he saw
plainly that it was a wishing-cloth. The cloth, however, was still
not enough to enable him to sit down quietly at home, he preferred to
wander about the world and pursue his fortune farther.
One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black charcoal-burner,
who was burning charcoal there, and had some potatoes by the fire, on
which he was going to make a meal. Good evening, blackbird, said the
youth. How do you get on in your solitude.
One day is like another, replied the charcoal-burner, and every night
potatoes. Have you a mind to have some, and will you be my guest.
Many thanks, replied the traveler, I won't rob you of your supper,
you did not reckon on a visitor, but if you will put up with what I
have, you shall have an invitation. Who is to prepare it for you,
said the charcoal-burner. I see that you have nothing with you, and
there is no one within a two hours' walk who could give you anything.
And yet there shall be a meal, answered the youth, and better than
any you have ever tasted. Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his
knapsack, spread it on the ground, and said, little cloth, cover
yourself, and instantly boiled meat and baked meat stood there, and
as hot as if it had just come out of the kitchen.
The charcoal-burner stared with wide-open eyes, but did not require
much pressing, he fell to, and thrust larger and larger mouthfuls
into his black mouth. When they had eaten everything, the
charcoal-burner smiled contentedly, and said, listen, your
table-cloth has my approval, it would be a fine thing for me in this
forest, where no one ever cooks me anything good. I will propose an
exchange to you, there in the corner hangs a soldier's knapsack,
which is certainly old and shabby, but in it lie concealed wonderful
powers, but, as I no longer use it, I will give it to you for the
table-cloth.
I must first know what these wonderful powers are, answered the
youth.
That will I tell you, replied the charcoal-burner, every time you tap
it with your hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head to
foot, and they do whatsover you command them. So far as I am
concerned, said the youth, if nothing else can be done, we will
exchange, and he gave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took the
knapsack from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell. When he had
walked a while, he wished to make a trial of the magical powers of
his knapsack and tapped it. Immediately the seven warriors stepped
up to him, and the corporal said, what does my lord and ruler wish
for.
March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my
wishing-cloth back. They faced to the left, and it was not long
before they brought what he required, and had taken it from the
charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man bade
them retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more
brightly on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner, who
was making his supper ready by the fire. If you will eat some
potatoes with salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,
said the sooty fellow.
No, he replied, this time you shall be my guest, and he spread out
his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most beautiful
dishes. They ate and drank together, and enjoyed themselves
heartily. After the meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, up
there on that shelf lies a little old worn-out hat which has strange
properties - the moment someone puts it on, and turns it round on his
head, the cannons go off as if twelve were fired all together, and
they demolish everything so that no one can withstand them. The hat
is of no use to me, and I will willingly give it for your tablecloth.
That suits me very well, he answered, took the hat, put it on, and
left his table-cloth behind him. But hardly had he walked away than
he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth
back again. One thing comes on the top of another, thought he, and I
feel as if my luck had not yet come to an end. Neither had his
thoughts deceived him. After he had walked on for the whole of one
day, he came to a third charcoal-burner, who like the previous one,
invited him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine
with him from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so
well, that at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very
different properties from those of the hat. The moment someone blew
it all the walls and fortifications fell down, and all towns and
villages became ruins. For this he immediately gave the
charcoal-burner the cloth, but he afterwards sent his soldiers to
demand it back again, so that at length he had the knapsack, hat and
horn, all three. Now, said he, I am a made man, and it is time for
me to go home and see how my brothers are getting on.
When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a handsome
house with their silver and gold, and were living in clover. He went
to see them, but as he came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on
his head, and his old knapsack on his back, they would not
acknowledge him as their brother. They mocked and said, you give out
that you are our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for
something still better for himself. Such a person arrives in his
carriage in full splendor like a mighty king, not like a beggar, and
they drove him out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped
his knapsack until a hundred and fifty men stood before him armed
from head to foot. He commanded them to surround his brothers,
house, and two of them were to take hazelsticks with them, and beat
the two insolent men until they knew who he was.
A violent disturbance broke out, people ran together, and wanted to
lend the two some help in their need, but against the soldiers they
could do nothing. News of this at length came to the king, who was
very angry, and ordered a captain to march out with his troop, and
drive this disturber of the peace out of the town, but the man with
knapsack soon got a greater body of men together, who repulsed the
captain and his men, so that they were forced to retire with bloody
noses. The king said, this vagabond is not brought to order yet, and
next day sent a still larger troop against him, but they could do
even less. The youth set still more men against them, and in order
to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his head, and
heavy guns began to play, and the king's men were beaten and put to
flight.
And now, said he, I will not make peace until the king gives me his
daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in his name. He
caused this to be announced to the king, and the latter said to his
daughter, necessity is a hard nut to crack. What else is there for
me to do but what he desires. If I want peace and to keep the crown
on my head, I must give you away.
So the wedding was celebrated, but the king's daughter was vexed that
her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby hat, and put on
an old knapsack. She longed to get rid of him, and night and day
studied how she could accomplished this. Then she thought to
herself, is it possible that his wonderful powers lie in the
knapsack, and she feigned affection and caressed him, and when his
heart was softened, she said, if you would but lay aside that horrid
knapsack, it makes you look so ugly, that I can't help being ashamed
of you. Dear child, said he, this knapsack is my greatest treasure,
as long as I have it, there is no power on earth that I am afraid of.
And he revealed to her the wonderful virtue with which it was
endowed.
Then she threw herself in his arms as if she were going to kiss him,
but cleverly took the knapsack off his shoulders, and ran away with
it. As soon as she was alone she tapped it, and commanded the
warriors to seize their former master, and take him out of the royal
palace. They obeyed, and the false wife sent still more men after
him, who were to drive him quite out of the country. Then he would
have been ruined if he had not had the little hat. And hardly were
his hands free before he turned it twice. Immediately the cannon
began to thunder, and demolished everything, and the king's daughter
herself was forced to come and beg for mercy. As she entreated in
such moving terms, and promised to better her ways, he allowed
himself to be persuaded and granted her peace.
She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she loved
him very much, and after some time managed so to befool him, that he
confided to her that even if someone got the knapsack into his power,
he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat was still his.
When she knew the secret, she waited until he was asleep, and then
she took the hat away from him, and had it thrown out into the
street. But the horn still remained to him, and in great anger he
blew it with all his strength.
Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages, toppled
down, and crushed the king and his daughter to death. And had he not
put down the horn and had blown just a little longer, everything
would have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been left
standing on another. Then no one opposed him any longer, and he made
himself king of the whole country.
Little Red-Cap
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved
by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have
given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red
velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear
anything else. So she was always called little red-cap.
One day her mother said to her, come, little red-cap, here
is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your
grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good.
Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk
nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may
fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will
get nothing. And when you go into her room, don't forget
to say, good-morning, and don't peep into every corner before
you do it.
I will take great care, said little red-cap to her mother, and
gave her hand on it.
The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the
village, and just as little red-cap entered the wood, a wolf
met her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was,
and was not at all afraid of him.
"Good-day, little red-cap," said he.
"Thank you kindly, wolf."
"Whither away so early, little red-cap?"
"To my grandmother's."
"What have you got in your apron?"
"Cake and wine. Yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick
grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger."
"Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?"
"A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood. Her house
stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just
below. You surely must know it," replied little red-cap.
The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature. What a
nice plump mouthful, she will be better to eat than the old
woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both. So he walked
for a short time by the side of little red-cap, and then he
said, "see little red-cap, how pretty the flowers are about here.
Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not
hear how sweetly the little birds are singing. You walk gravely
along as if you were going to school, while everything else out
here in the wood is merry."
Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams
dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers
growing everywhere, she thought, suppose I take grandmother a
fresh nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the
day that I shall still get there in good time. And so she ran
from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever
she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one
farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper into
the wood.
Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house and
knocked at the door.
"Who is there?"
"Little red-cap," replied the wolf. "She is bringing cake and
wine. Open the door."
"Lift the latch," called out the grandmother, "I am too weak, and
cannot get up."
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without
saying a word he went straight to the grandmother's bed, and
devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in
her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.
Little red-cap, however, had been running about picking flowers,
and when she had gathered so many that she could carry
no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the
way to her.
She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and
when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that
she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at
other times I like being with grandmother so much. She called
out, "good morning," but received no answer. So she went to the
bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with
her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
"Oh, grandmother," she said, "what big ears you have."
"The better to hear you with, my child," was the reply.
"But, grandmother, what big eyes you have," she said.
"The better to see you with," my dear.
"But, grandmother, what large hands you have."
"The better to hug you with."
"Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have."
"The better to eat you with."
And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was
out of bed and swallowed up red-cap.
When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in
the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The
huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how
the old woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.
So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw
that the wolf was lying in it. Do I find you here, you old
sinner, said he. I have long sought you. Then just as he was going
to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have
devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so
he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut
open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two
snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he made two
snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah, how
frightened I have been. How dark it was inside the wolf. And
after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely
able to breathe. Red-cap, however, quickly
fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf's belly, and
when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so
heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.
Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf's
skin and went home with it. The grandmother ate the cake and
drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but
red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by
myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has
forbidden me to do so.
It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking cakes
to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to
entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her guard,
and went straight forward on her way, and told her grandmother
that she had met the wolf, and that he had said good-morning to
her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if they had
not been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten
her up. Well, said the grandmother, we will shut the door, that
he may not come in. Soon afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried,
open the door, grandmother, I am little red-cap, and am bringing
you some cakes. But they did not speak, or open the door, so
the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last
jumped on the roof, intending to wait until red-cap went home in
the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the
darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In
front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the
child, take the pail, red-cap. I made some sausages yesterday,
so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough. Red-cap
carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the smell
of the sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped
down, and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could
no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and slipped down
from the roof straight into the great trough, and was drowned.
But red-cap went joyously home, and no one ever did anything
to harm her again.
There was once a widow who had two daughters - one of
whom was pretty and industrious, whilst the other was ugly
and idle. But she was much fonder of the ugly and idle one,
because she was her own daughter. And the other, who was a
step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and be the
cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a
well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.
Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her
blood, so she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off, but it
dropped out of her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to
weep, and ran to her step-mother and told her of the mishap. But
she scolded her sharply, and was so merciless as to say, since
you have let the shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again.
So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do.
And in the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the
shuttle. She lost her senses. And when she awoke and came to
herself again, she was in a lovely meadow where the sun was
shining and many thousands of flowers were growing. Across this
meadow she went, and at last came to a baker's oven full of bread,
and the bread cried out, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall
burn. I have been baked a long time. So she went up to it, and
took out all the loaves one after another with the bread-shovel.
After that she went on till she came to a tree covered with apples,
which called out to her, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are
all ripe. So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain,
and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had
gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.
At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman
peeped. But she had such large teeth that the girl was
frightened, and was about to run away. But the old woman called
out to her, what are you afraid of, dear child. Stay with me.
If you will do all the work in the house properly, you shall be
the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well,
and shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly - for then there
is snow on the earth. I am mother holle.
As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage
and agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the
satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously
that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a
pleasant life with her. Never an angry word. And to eat she had
boiled or roast meat every day.
She stayed some time with mother holle, before she became sad.
At first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found
at length that it was home-sickness. Although she was many thousand
times better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be
there. At last she said to the old woman, I have a longing for
home, and however well off I am down here, I cannot stay any
longer. I must go up again to my own people. Mother holle said,
I am pleased that you long for your home again, and as you have
served me so truly, I myself will take you up again. Thereupon
she took her by the hand, and led her to a large door. The door
was opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the
doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold clung
to her, so that she was completely covered over with it.
You shall have that because you have been so industrious, said
mother holle, and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle
which she had let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed,
and the maiden found herself up above upon the earth, not far
from her mother's house.
And as she went into the yard the cock was sitting on the well,
and cried -
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your golden girl's come back to you.
So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with
gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister.
The girl told all that had happened to her, and as soon as the
mother heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very
anxious to obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter.
She had to seat herself by the well and spin. And in order that
her shuttle might be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a
thorn bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw her shuttle
into the well, and jumped in after it.
She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked
along the very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again
cried, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall burn. I have been
baked a long time. But the lazy thing answered, as if I had any
wish to make myself dirty. And on she went. Soon she came to the
apple-tree, which cried, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are all
ripe. But she answered, I like that. One of you might fall on
my head, and so went on. When she came to mother holle's house
she was not afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and
she hired herself to her immediately.
The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed
mother holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking
of all the gold that she would give her. But on the second day
she began to be lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then
she would not get up in the morning at all. Neither did she make
mother holle's bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to
make the feathers fly up. Mother holle was soon tired of this, and
gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was willing enough to go,
and thought that now the golden rain would come. Mother holle led
her also to the great door, but while she was standing beneath it,
instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch was emptied over her.
That is the reward for your service, said mother holle, and shut
the door.
So the lazy girl went home, but she was quite covered with pitch,
and the cock on the well, as soon as he saw her, cried out -
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your dirty girl's come back to you.
But the pitch clung fast to her, and could not be got off as long
as she lived.
There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain
wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God
was about to grant her desire. These people had a little
window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden
could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and
herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one
dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had
great power and was dreaded by all the world. One day the woman
was standing by this window and looking down into the garden,
when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful
rampion - rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she
longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire
increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any
of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.
Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, what ails you, dear
wife. Ah, she replied, if I can't eat some of the rampion, which
is in the garden behind our house, I shall die. The man, who loved
her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of
the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he
clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress,
hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She
at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted
so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it
three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her
husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of
evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had
clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the
enchantress standing before him. How can you dare, said she with
angry look, descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a
thief. You shall suffer for it. Ah, answered he, let mercy take
the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of
necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such
a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some
to eat. Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and
said to him, if the case be as you say, I will allow you to take
away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one
condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring
into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it
like a mother. The man in his terror consented to everything, and
when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once,
gave the child the name of rapunzel, and took it away with her.
Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun.
When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a
tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but
quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress
wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair to me.
Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when
she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided
tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above,
and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed
up by it.
After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode
through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song,
which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was
rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet
voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and
looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He
rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that
every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when
he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress
came there, and he heard how she cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair.
Then rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the
enchantress climbed up to her. If that is the ladder by which one
mounts, I too will try my fortune, said he, and the next day when
it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair.
Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up.
At first rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as
her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son
began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his
heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he
had been forced to see her. Then rapunzel lost her fear, and when
he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that
he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than
old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.
She said, I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know
how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that
you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready
I will descend, and you will take me on your horse. They agreed
that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the
old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked nothing of
this, until once rapunzel said to her, tell me, dame gothel, how
it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than
the young king's son - he is with me in a moment. Ah. You
wicked child, cried the enchantress. What do I hear you say. I
thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have
deceived me. In her anger she clutched rapunzel's beautiful
tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of
scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the
lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she
took poor rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great
grief and misery.
On the same day that she cast out rapunzel, however, the
enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to
the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair,
she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of
finding his dearest rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed
at him with wicked and venomous looks. Aha, she cried mockingly,
you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits
no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch
out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see
her again. The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in
his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life,
but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he
wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and
berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his
dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at
length came to the desert where rapunzel, with the twins to which
she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He
heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards
it, and when he approached, rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck
and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear
again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his
kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long
time afterwards, happy and contented.
Rumpelstiltskin
Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful
daughter. Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the
king, and in order to make himself appear important he said
to him, I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold. The
king said to the miller, that is an art which
pleases me well, if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring
her to-morrow to my palace, and I will put her to the test.
And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room
which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a
reel, and said, now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning
early you have not spun this straw into gold during the night,
you must die. Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and
left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller's daughter,
and for the life of her could not tell what to do, she had no
idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew more and
more frightened, until at last she began to weep.
But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man,
and said, good evening, mistress miller, why are you crying so.
Alas, answered the girl, I have to spin straw into gold, and I do
not know how to do it. What will you give me, said the
manikin, if I do it for you. My necklace, said the girl. The
little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the
wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was
full, then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times
round, and the second was full too. And so it went on until
the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels
were full of gold.
By daybreak the king was already there, and
when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his
heart became only more greedy. He had the miller's daughter
taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger,
and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued
her life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was
crying, when the door opened again, and the little man appeared,
and said, what will you give me if I spin that straw into gold
for you. The ring on my finger, answered the girl. The little
man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by
morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had
not gold enough, and he had the miller's daughter taken into
a still larger room full of straw, and said, you must spin this,
too, in the course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall
be my wife.
Even if she be a miller's daughter, thought he, I could not
find a richer wife in the whole world.
When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third
time, and said, what will you give me if I spin the straw for
you this time also. I have nothing left that I could give,
answered the girl. Then promise me, if you should become queen,
to give me your first child. Who knows whether that will
ever happen, thought the miller's daughter, and, not knowing
how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the
manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more spun the
straw into gold.
And when the king came in the morning, and found all as he
had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller's
daughter became a queen.
A year after, she brought a beautiful child into the world,
and she never gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he
came into her room, and said, now give me what you promised.
The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the
riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the
manikin said, no, something alive is dearer to me than all the
treasures in the world. Then the queen began to lament and cry,
so that the manikin pitied her. I will give you three days,
time, said he, if by that time you find out my name, then shall
you keep your child.
So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that
she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to
inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be.
When the manikin came the next day, she began with caspar,
melchior, balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one
after another, but to every one the little man said, that is not
my name. On the second day she had inquiries made in the
neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she
repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. Perhaps
your name is shortribs, or sheepshanks, or laceleg, but he
always answered, that is not my name.
On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, I
have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to
a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare
bid each other good night, there I saw a little house, and
before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire
quite a ridiculous little man was jumping, he hopped upon
one leg, and shouted -
to-day I bake, to-morrow brew,
the next I'll have the young queen's child.
Ha, glad am I that no one knew
that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.
You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the
name. And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and
asked, now, mistress queen, what is my name, at first she
said, is your name Conrad? No. Is your name Harry? No.
Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?
The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that, cried
the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so
deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in
rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that
he tore himself in two.
There was once upon a time a king who had twelve daughters, each one
more beautiful than the other. They all slept together in one
chamber, in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when
they were in them the king locked the door, and bolted it. But in
the morning when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were
worn out with dancing, and no one could find out how that had come to
pass. Then the king caused it to be proclaimed that whosoever could
discover where they danced at night, should choose one of them for
his wife and be king after his death, but that whosoever came forward
and had not discovered it within three days and nights, should have
forfeited his life.
It was not long before a king's son presented himself, and offered to
undertake the enterprise. He was well received, and in the evening
was led into a room adjoining the princesses, sleeping-chamber. His
bed was placed there, and he was to observe where they went and
danced, and in order that they might do nothing secretly or go away
to some other place, the door of their room was left open. But the
eyelids of the prince grew heavy as lead, and he fell asleep, and
when he awoke in the morning, all twelve had been to the dance, for
their shoes were standing there with holes in the soles. On the
second and third nights there was no difference, and then his head
was struck off without mercy.
Many others came after this and undertook the enterprise, but all
forfeited their lives. Now it came to pass that a poor soldier, who
had a wound, and could serve no longer, found himself on the road to
the town where the king lived. There he met an old woman, who asked
him where he was going. "I hardly know myself," answered he, and
added in jest, "I had half a mind to discover where the princesses
danced their shoes into holes, and thus become king." "That is not so
difficult," said the old woman, "you must not drink the wine which
will be brought to you at night, and must pretend to be sound
asleep." With that she gave him a little cloak, and said, "If you
wear this, you will be invisible, and then you can steal after the
twelve." When the soldier had received this good advice, he fell to
in earnest, took heart, went to the king, and announced himself as a
suitor. He was as well received as the others, and royal garments
were put upon him. He was conducted that evening at bed-time into
the antechamber, and as he was about to go to bed, the eldest came
and brought him a cup of wine, but he had tied a sponge under his
chin, and let the wine run down into it, without drinking a drop.
Then he lay down and when he had lain a while, he began to snore, as
if in the deepest sleep. The twelve princesses heard that, and
laughed, and the eldest said, "He, too, might as well have saved his
life." With that they got up, opened wardrobes, presses, cupboards,
and brought out pretty dresses, dressed themselves before the
mirrors, sprang about, and rejoiced at the prospect of the dance.
Only the youngest said, "I know not how it is, you are very happy,
but I feel very strange, some misfortune is certainly about to befall
us." "You are a goose, who are always frightened," said the eldest.
"Have you forgotten how many kings' sons have already come here in
vain. I had hardly any need to give the soldier a sleeping-draught,
the booby would not have awakened anyway."
When they were all ready they looked carefully at the soldier, but he
had closed his eyes and did not move or stir, so they felt themselves
safe enough. The eldest then went to her bed and tapped it,
whereupon it immediately sank into the earth, and one after the other
they descended through the opening, the eldest going first. The
soldier, who had watched everything, tarried no longer, put on his
little cloak, and went down last with the youngest. Half-way down
the steps, he just trod a little on her dress, she was terrified at
that, and cried out, "What is that? Who is pulling my dress?" "Don't
be so silly," said the eldest, "you have caught it on a nail."
Then they went all the way down, and when they were at the bottom,
they were standing in a wonderfully pretty avenue of trees, all the
leaves of which were of silver, and shone and glistened. The soldier
thought, "I must carry a token away with me," and broke off a twig
from one of them, on which the tree cracked with a loud report. The
youngest cried out again. "Something is wrong, did you hear the
crack?" But the eldest said, "It is a gun fired for joy, because we
have got rid of our prince so quickly." After that they came into an
avenue where all the leaves were of gold, and lastly into a third
where they were of bright diamonds, he broke off a twig from each,
which made such a crack each time that the youngest started back in
terror, but the eldest still maintained that they were salutes.
They went on and came to a great lake whereon stood twelve little
boats, and in every boat sat a handsome prince, all of whom were
waiting for the twelve, and each took one of them with him, but the
soldier seated himself by the youngest. Then her prince said, "I
wonder why the boat is so much heavier to-day. I shall have to row
with all my strength, if I am to get it across." "What should cause
that," said the youngest, "but the warm weather?" "I feel very warm
too." On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid, brightly-lit
castle, from whence resounded the joyous music of trumpets and
kettle-drums. They rowed there, entered, and each prince danced with
the girl he loved, but the soldier danced with them unseen, and when
one of them had a cup of wine in her hand he drank it up, so that the
cup was empty when she carried it to her mouth, the youngest was
alarmed at this, but the eldest always silenced her. They danced
there till three o'clock in the morning when all the shoes were
danced into holes, and they were forced to leave off, the princes
rowed them back again over the lake, and this time the soldier seated
himself by the eldest.
On the shore they took leave of their princes, and promised to return
the following night. When they reached the stairs the soldier ran on
in front and lay down in his bed, and when the twelve had come up
slowly and wearily, he was already snoring so loudly that they could
all hear him, and they said, "So far as he is concerned, we are
safe." They took off their beautiful dresses, laid them away, put the
worn-out shoes under the bed, and lay down. Next morning the soldier
was resolved not to speak, but to watch the wonderful goings-on, and
again went with them a second and a third night.
Then everything was just as it had been the first time, and each time
they danced until their shoes were worn to pieces. But the third
time he took a cup away with him as a token. When the hour had
arrived for him to give his answer, he took the three twigs and the
cup, and went to the king, but the twelve stood behind the door, and
listened for what he was going to say. When the king put the
question, "Where have my twelve daughters danced their shoes to
pieces in the night?" He answered, "In an underground castle with
twelve princes," and related how it had come to pass, and brought out
the tokens. The king then summoned his daughters, and asked them if
the soldier had told the truth, and when they saw that they were
betrayed, and that falsehood would be of no avail, they were obliged
to confess all. Thereupon the king asked which of them he would have
to wife. He answered, "I am no longer young, so give me the eldest."
Then the wedding was celebrated on the self-same day, and the kingdom
was promised him after the king's death. But the princes were
bewitched for as many days as they had danced nights with the twelve.
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of
snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at
a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black
ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window
at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three
drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty
upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, would that I had
a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the
wood of the window-frame.
Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as
snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony,
and she was therefore called little snow-white. And when the
child was born, the queen died.
After a year had passed the king took to himself another wife.
She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could
not bear that anyone else chould surpass her in beauty. She
had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it
and looked at herself in it, and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
The looking-glass answered,
thou, o queen, art the fairest of all.
Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass spoke
the truth.
But snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful,
and when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day,
and more beautiful than the queen herself. And once when the
queen asked her looking-glass,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
It answered,
thou art fairer than all who are here, lady queen.
But more beautiful still is snow-white, as I ween.
Then the queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with
envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at snow-white, her
heart heaved in her breast, she hated the girl so much.
And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a
weed, so that she had no peace day or night. She called a
huntsman, and said, take the child away into the forest. I will
no longer have her in my sight. Kill her, and bring me back her
lung and liver as a token. The huntsman obeyed, and took her away
but when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce
snow-white's innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, ah dear
huntsman, leave me my life. I will run away into the wild forest,
and never come home again.
And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and
said, run away, then, you poor child. The wild beasts will soon
have devoured you, thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had
been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for
him to kill her. And as a young bear just then came running by
he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them to the
queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook had to salt them,
and the wicked queen ate them, and thought she had eaten the lung
and liver of snow-white.
But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so
terrified that she looked at all the leaves on the trees, and did
not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp
stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but
did her no harm.
She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost evening,
then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself.
Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than
can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and
seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon, moreover,
there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs.
Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and
covered with snow-white counterpanes.
Little snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some
vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine
out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only.
Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the
little beds, but none of them suited her, one was too long,
another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one was
right, and so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to
sleep.
When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back.
They were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for
ore. They lit their seven candles, and as it was now light within
the cottage they saw that someone had been there, for everything
was not in the same order in which they had left it.
The first said, who has been sitting on my chair.
The second, who has been eating off my plate.
The third, who has been taking some of my bread.
The fourth, who has been eating my vegetables.
The fifth, who has been using my fork.
The sixth, who has been cutting with my knife.
The seventh, who has been drinking out of my mug.
Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little
hollow on his bed, and he said, who has been getting into my
bed. The others came up and each called out, somebody has been
lying in my bed too. But the seventh when he looked at his bed
saw little snow-white, who was lying asleep therein. And he
called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with
astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the
light fall on little snow-white. Oh, heavens, oh, heavens, cried
they, what a lovely child. And they were so glad that they did
not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the
seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and
so passed the night.
When it was morning little snow-white awoke, and was frightened
when she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked
her what her name was. My name is snow-white, she answered.
How have you come to our house, said the dwarfs. Then she told
them that her step-mother had wished to have her killed, but
that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she had run for
the whole day, until at last she had found their dwelling.
The dwarfs said, if you will take care of our house, cook, make
the beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you will keep everything neat
and clean you can stay with us and you shall want for nothing.
Yes, said snow-white, with all my heart. And she stayed with
them. She kept the house in order for them. In the mornings
they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the
evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready.
The girl was alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her
and said, beware of your step-mother, she will soon know that you
are here, be sure to let no one come in.
But the queen, believing that she had eaten snow-white's lung and
liver, could not but think that she was again the first and most
beautiful of all, and she went to her looking-glass and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And the glass answered,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass
never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed
her, and that little snow-white was still alive.
And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her,
for so long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let
her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of something
to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like an old
pedlar-woman, and no one could have known her. In this disguise
she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, and
knocked at the door and cried, pretty things to sell, very cheap,
very cheap. Little snow-white looked out of the window and called
out, good-day my good woman, what have you to sell. Good things,
pretty things, she answered, stay-laces of all colors, and she
pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored silk. I may let
the worthy old woman in, thought snow-white, and she unbolted the
door and bought the pretty laces. Child, said the old woman,
what a fright you look, come, I will lace you properly for once.
Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let herself
be laced with the new laces. But the old woman laced so quickly
and so tightly that snow-white lost her breath and fell down as
if dead. Now I am the most beautiful, said the queen to herself,
and ran away.
Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home,
but how shocked they were when they saw their dear little snow-white
lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor
moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they
saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces, then she
began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.
When the dwarfs heard what had happened they said, the old
pedlar-woman was no one
else than the wicked queen, take care and let no one come in
when we are not with you.
But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front
of the glass and asked,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And it answered as before,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear,
for she saw plainly that little snow-white was again alive.
But now, she said, I will think of something that shall really
put an end to you. And by the help of witchcraft, which she
understood, she made a poisonous comb. Then she disguised
herself and took the shape of another old woman. So she went
over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the
door, and cried, good things to sell, cheap, cheap. Little
snow-white looked out and said, go away, I cannot let anyone come
in. I suppose you can look, said the old woman, and pulled the
poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well
that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they
had made a bargain the old woman said, now I will comb you
properly for once. Poor little snow-white had no suspicion, and
let the old woman do as she pleased, but hardly had she put the
comb in her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the girl
fell down senseless. You paragon of beauty, said the wicked
woman, you are done for now, and she went away.
But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs
came home. When they saw snow-white lying as if dead upon the
ground they at once suspected the step-mother, and they looked
and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out when
snow-white came to herself, and told them what had happened.
Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open
the door to no one.
The queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
Then it answered as before,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook
with rage. Snow-white shall die, she cried, even if it costs me
my life.
Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no
one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple.
Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that
everyone who saw it longed for it, but whoever ate a piece of it
must surely die.
When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself
up as a farmer's wife, and so she went over the seven
mountains to the seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white
put her head out of the window and said, I cannot let
anyone in, the seven dwarfs have forbidden me. It is all the
same to me, answered the woman, I shall soon get rid of my apples.
There, I will give you one.
No, said snow-white, I dare not take anything. Are you afraid
of poison, said the old woman, look, I will cut the apple in two
pieces, you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white. The
apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was
poisoned. Snow-white longed for the fine apple, and when she saw
that the woman ate part of it she could resist no longer, and
stretched out
her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit
of it in her mouth than she fell down dead. Then the queen
looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud and said,
white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood, this time the
dwarfs cannot wake you up again.
And when she asked of the looking-glass at home,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And it answered at last,
oh, queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.
Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can
have rest.
The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found snow-white
lying upon the ground, she breathed no longer and was dead.
They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find
anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her
with water and wine, but it was all of no use, the poor child was
dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all
seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days
long.
Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she
were living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said,
we could not bury her in the dark ground, and they had a
transparent coffin of glass made, so that she could be seen from
all sides, and they laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it
in golden letters, and that she was a king's daughter. Then they
put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always
stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for
snow-white, first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.
And now snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she
did not change, but looked as if she were asleep, for she was as
white as snow, as red as blood, and her hair was as black as
ebony.
It happened, however, that a king's son came into the forest, and
went to the dwarfs, house to spend the night. He saw the coffin
on the mountain, and the beautiful snow-white within it, and read
what was written upon it in golden letters. Then he said to the
dwarfs, let me have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want
for it. But the dwarfs answered, we will not part with it for all
the gold in the world. Then he said, let me have it as a gift, for
I cannot live without seeing snow-white. I will honor and prize
her as my dearest possession. As he spoke in this way the good
dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the coffin.
And now the king's son had it carried away by his servants on
their shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a
tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple
which snow-white had bitten off came out of her throat. And
before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin,
sat up, and was
once more alive. Oh, heavens, where am I, she cried. The king's
son, full of joy, said, you are with me. And told her what had
happened, and said, I love you more than everything in the
world, come with me to my father's palace, you shall be my wife.
And snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding
was held with great show and splendor. But snow-white's
wicked step-mother was also bidden to the feast. When she had
arrayed herself in beautiful clothes she went before the
looking-glass, and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
The glass answered,
oh, queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
but the young queen is fairer by far as I trow.
Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched,
so utterly wretched that she knew not what to do. At first she
would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and
had to go to see the young queen. And when she went in she
recognized snow-white, and she stood still with rage and fear,
and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon
the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before
her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance
until she dropped down dead.
There was once a girl whose father and mother died while
she was still a little child. All alone, in a small house at the
end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself
by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the
forlorn child to live with her, kept her to her work, and educated
her in all that is good. When the girl was fifteen years old,
the old woman became ill, called the child to her bedside,
and said, dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near. I leave you
the little house, which will protect you from wind and weather, and
my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your
bread. Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her,
and said, only preserve the love of God in your heart, and all will
go well with you. Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was
laid in the earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping
bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect.
And now the maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and
was industrious, and spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the
good old woman was on all that she did. It seemed as if the flax
in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a
piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found
a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of
nothing, and even had something to share with others.
About this time, the son of the king was traveling about the
country looking for a bride. He was not to choose a poor one, and
did not want to have a rich one. So he said, she shall be my wife
who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest. When he came
to the village where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did
wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest girl in
the place. They first named the richest. The poorest, they said,
was the girl who lived in the small house quite at the end of the
village. The rich girl was sitting in all her splendor before the
door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up,
went to meet him, and made him a low curtsy. He looked at her,
said nothing, and rode on. When he came to the house of the poor
girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little
room. He stopped his horse, and saw through the window, on which
the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her spinning-wheel,
busily spinning. She looked up, and when she saw that the prince
was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall,
and went on spinning. I do not know whether, just at that
moment, the thread was quite even, but she went on spinning until
the king's son had ridden away again. Then she went to the
window, opened it, and said, it is so warm in this room, and she
looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white
feathers in his hat. Then she sat down to work again in her room
and went on with her spinning, and a saying which the old woman
had often repeated when she was
sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these
words to herself,
spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away,
and here to my house bring the wooer, I pray.
And what do you think happened. The spindle sprang out of her
hand in an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her
astonishment, she got up and looked after it, she saw that it was
dancing out merrily into the open country, and drawing a shining
gold thread after it. Before long, it had entirely vanished from
her sight. As she had now no spindle, the girl took the weaver's
shuttle in her hand, sat down to her loom, and began to weave.
The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as
the thread came to an end, reached the prince. What do I see, he
cried, the spindle certainly wants to show me the way, turned
his horse about, and rode back with the golden thread. The girl
however, was sitting at her work singing,
shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day,
and guide the wooer to me, I pray.
Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door.
Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which
was more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld.
Lilies and roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden
ground in the center green branches ascended, under which bounded
hares and rabbits, stags and deer stretched their heads in
between them, brightly-colored birds were sitting in the branches
above, they lacked nothing but the gift of song. The shuttle
leapt hither and thither, and everything seemed to grow of
its own accord.
As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She held
the needle in her hand and sang,
needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine,
prepare for the wooer this house of mine.
Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere
about the room as quick as lightning. It was just as if
invisible spirits were working, it covered tables and benches
with green cloth in an instant,
and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken
curtains. Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the
maiden saw through the window the white feathers of the prince,
whom the spindle had brought thither by the golden thread. He
alighted, stepped over the carpet into the house, and when he
entered the room, there stood the maiden in her poor garments, but
she shone out from within them like a rose surrounded by leaves.
You are the poorest and also the richest, said he to her. Come
with me, you shall be my bride. She did not speak, but she gave
him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, led her forth, lifted her
on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the
wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings. The spindle,
shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber,
and held in great honor.
There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early
morning till late at night. When at last he had laid by some
money he said to his boy, "You are my only child, I will spend the
money which I have earned with the sweat of my brow on your
education, if you learn some honest trade you can support me in
my old age, when my limbs have grown stiff and I am obliged to
stay at home."
Then the boy went to a high school and learned
diligently so that his masters praised him, and he remained
there a long time. When he had worked through two classes, but
was still not yet perfect in everything, the little pittance
which the father had earned was all spent, and the boy was
obliged to return home to him.
"Ah," said the father, sorrowfully, "I can
give you no more, and in these hard times I cannot earn a
farthing more than will suffice for our daily bread." "Dear
father," answered the son, "don't trouble yourself about it, if it
is God's will, it will turn to my advantage. I shall soon
accustom myself to it." When the father wanted to go into the
forest to earn money by helping to chop and stack wood, the
son said, "I will go with you and help you." "Nay, my son," said
the father, "that would be hard for you. You are not accustomed
to rough work, and will not be able to bear it. Besides, I have
only one axe and no money left wherewith to buy another." "Just
go to the neighbor," answered the son, "he will lend you his axe
until I have earned one for myself."
The father then borrowed an axe of the neighbor, and next
morning at break of day they went out into the forest together.
The son helped his father and was quite merry and brisk about
it. But when the sun was right over their heads, the father
said, "We will rest, and have our dinner, and then we shall work
twice as well." The son took his bread in his hands, and said,
"Just you rest, father, I am not tired, I will walk up and down
a little in the forest, and look for birds' nests." "Oh, you fool,"
said the father, "why should you want to run about there? Afterwards
you will be tired, and no longer able to raise your arm.
Stay here, and sit down beside me."
The son, however, went into the forest, ate his bread, was very
merry and peered in among the green branches to see if he could
discover a bird's nest anywhere. So he walked to and fro until
at last he came to a great dangerous-looking oak, which
certainly was already many hundred years old, and which five
men could not have spanned. He stood still and looked at it, and
thought, many a bird must have built its nest in that. Then all at
once it seemed to him that he heard a voice. He listened and
became aware that someone was crying in a very smothered voice,
"Let me out, let me out." He looked around, but could discover
nothing. Then he fancied that the voice came out of the ground.
So he cried, "Where are you?" The voice answered, "I am down here
amongst the roots of the oak-tree. Let me out. Let me out."
The schoolboy began to loosen the earth under the tree, and search
among the roots, until at last he found a glass bottle in a little
hollow. He lifted it up and held it against the light, and then
saw a creature shaped like a frog, springing up and down in it.
"Let me out. Let me out," it cried anew, and the boy thinking no
evil, drew the cork out of the bottle. Immediately a spirit
ascended from it, and began to grow, and grew so fast that in a
very few moments he stood before the boy, a terrible fellow as big
as half the tree. "Do you know," he cried in an awful voice, "what
your reward is for having let me out?" "No," replied the boy
fearlessly, "how should I know that?" "Then I will tell you," cried
the spirit, "I must strangle you for it." "You should have told me
that sooner," said the boy, "for I should then have left you shut
up, but my head shall stand fast for all you can do, more persons
than one must be consulted about that." "More persons here, more
persons there," said the spirit. "You shall have the reward you
have earned. Do you think that I was shut up there for such a
long time as a favor. No, it was a punishment for me. I am the
mighty Mercurius. Whoso releases me, him must I strangle."
"Slowly," answered the boy, "not so fast. I must first know that
you really were shut up in that little bottle, and that you are
the right spirit. If, indeed, you can get in again, I will believe
and then you may do as you will with me." The spirit said
haughtily, "that is a very trifling feat." Drew himself together,
and made himself as small and slender as he had been at first, so
that he crept through the same opening, and right through the neck
of the bottle in again. Scarcely was he within than the boy
thrust the cork he had drawn back into the bottle, and threw
it among the roots of the oak into its old place, and the spirit
was deceived.
And now the schoolboy was about to return to his father, but the
spirit cried very piteously, "Ah, do let me out, ah, do let me out."
"No," answered the boy, "not a second time. He who has once tried to
take my life shall not be set free by me, now that I have caught
him again." "If you will set me free," said the spirit, "I will give
you so much that you will have plenty all the days of your life."
"No," answered the boy, "you would cheat me as you did the first time."
"You are spurning you own good luck," said the spirit, "I will do you
no harm but will reward you richly." The boy thought, "I will
venture it, perhaps he will keep his word, and anyhow he shall not
get the better of me."
Then he took out the cork, and the spirit
rose up from the bottle as he had done before, stretched himself
out and became as big as a giant. "Now you shall have your reward,"
said he, and handed the boy a little rag just like stiking-plaster,
and said, "If you spread one end of this over a wound it
will heal, and if you rub steel or iron with the other end it will
be changed into silver." "I must just try that," said the boy, and
went to a tree, tore off the bark with his axe, and rubbed it
with one end of the plaster. It immediately closed together and
was healed. "Now, it is all right," he said to the spirit, "and we
can part." The spirit thanked him for his release, and the boy
thanked the spirit for his present, and went back to his father.
"Where have you been racing about?" said the father. "Why have you
forgotten your work? I always said that you would never come to
anything." "Be easy, father, I will make it up." "Make it up indeed,"
said the father angrily, "that's no use." "Take care, father, I will
soon hew that tree there, so that it will split." Then he took
his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and dealt a mighty blow, but
as the iron had changed into silver, the edge bent. "Hi, father,
just look what a bad axe you've given me, it has become quite
crooked." The father was shocked and said, "Ah, what have you done!
Now I shall have to pay for that, and have not the wherewithal, and
that is all the good I have got by your
work." "Don't get angry," said the son, "I will soon pay for the axe."
"Oh, you blockhead," cried the father, "Wherewith will you pay for it?
You have nothing but what I give you. These are students' tricks
that are sticking in your head, you have no idea of woodcutting."
After a while the boy said, "Father, I can really work no more, we
had better take a holiday." "Eh, what," answered he, "do you think I
will sit with my hands lying in my lap like you. I must go on
working, but you may take yourself off home." "Father, I am here in
this wood for the first time, I don't know my way alone. Do go
with me." As his anger had now abated, the father at last let
himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the
son, "Go and sell your damaged axe, and see what you can get for it,
and I must earn the difference, in order to pay the neighbor."
The son took the axe, and carried it into town to a goldsmith,
who tested it, laid it in the scales, and said, "It is worth four
hundred talers, I have not so much as that by me." The son said,
"Give me what thou have, I will lend you the rest." The goldsmith
gave him three hundred talers, and remained a hundred in his
debt. The son thereupon went home and said, "Father, I have got
the money, go and ask the neighbor what he wants for the axe."
"I know that already," answered the old man, "one taler, six groschen."
"Then give him him two talers, twelve groschen, that is double and
enough. See, I have money in plenty." And he gave the father
a hundred talers, and said, "You shall never know want, live as
comfortably as you like."
"Good heavens," said the father, "how
have you come by these riches?" The boy then told how all had come
to pass, and how he, trusting in his luck, had made such a packet.
But with the money that was left, he went back to the high school
and went on learning more, and as he could heal all wounds with
his plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world.
There were once a man and a woman who had an only child, and
lived quite alone in a solitary valley. It came to pass that the
mother once went into the wood to gather branches of fir, and
took with her little Hans, who was just two years old. As it
was spring-time, and the child took pleasure in the many-colored
flowers, she went still further onwards with him into the forest.
Suddenly two robbers sprang out of the thicket, seized the mother
and child, and carried them far away into the black forest, where
no one ever came from one year's end to another. The poor woman
urgently begged the robbers to set her and her child free, but
their hearts were made of stone, they would not listen to her
prayers and entreaties, and drove her on farther by force. After
they had worked their way through bushes and briars for about
two miles, they came to a rock where there was a door, at which
the robbers knocked and it opened at once. They had to go through
a long dark passage, which burnt on the hearth. On the wall hung
swords, sabres, and other deadly weapons which gleamed in the
light, and in the midst stood a black table at which four other
robbers were sitting gambling, and the captain sat at the head of
it. As soon as he saw the woman he came and spoke to her, and
told her to be at ease and have no fear, they would do nothing to
hurt her, but she must look after the housekeeping, and if she
kept everything in order, she should not fare ill with them.
Thereupon they gave her something to eat, and showed her a bed
where she might sleep with her child.
The woman stayed many years with the robbers, and Hans grew
tall and strong. His mother told him stories, and taught him
to read an old book of tales about knights which she found in
the cave. When Hans was nine years old, he made himself a strong
club out of a branch of fir, hid it behind the bed, and then
went to his mother and said, dear mother, pray tell me who is
my father. I must and will know. His mother was silent and
would not tell him, that he might not become home-sick. Moreover
she knew that the godless robbers would not let him go away, but
it almost broke her heart that Hans should not go to his father.
In the night, when the robbers came home from their robbing
expedition, Hans brought out his club, stood before the captain,
and said, I now wish to know who my father is, and if you do not
tell me at once I will strike you down. Then the captain laughed,
and gave Hans such a box on the ear that he rolled under the table.
Hans got up again, held his tongue, and thought, I will wait
another year and then try again, perhaps I shall do better then.
When the year was over, he brought out his club again, rubbed the
dust off it, looked at it well, and said,
it is a stout strong club. At night the robbers came home,
drank one jug of wine after another, and their heads began to be
heavy. Then Hans brought out his club, placed himself before
the captain, and asked him who his father was. But the captain
again gave him such a vigorous box on the ear that Hans rolled
under the table. However, it was not long before he was up again,
and so beat the captain and the robbers with his club, that
they could no longer move either their arms or their legs.
His mother stood in a corner full of admiration for his bravery
and strength. When Hans had done his work, he went to his mother,
and said, now I have shown myself to be in earnest, but now I
must also know who my father is. Dear Hans, answered the
mother, come, we will go and seek him until we find him. She
took from the captain the key to the entrance-door, and Hans
fetched a great meal-sack and packed into it gold and silver, and
whatsoever else he could find that was beautiful, until it was
full, and then he took it on his back. They left the cave, but
how Hans did open his eyes when he came out of the darkness
into daylight, and saw the green forest, and the flowers, and
the birds, and the morning sun in the sky. He stood there and
wondered at everything just as if he were not quite right in the
head. His mother looked for the way home, and when they had
walked for a couple of hours, they got safely into their lonely
valley and to their little house. The father was sitting in the
doorway. He wept for joy when he recognized his wife and heard
that Hans was his son, for he had long regarded them both as
dead. But Hans, although he was not twelve years old, was a
head taller than his father. They went into the little room
together, but Hans had scarcely put his sack on the bench by
the stove, than the whole house began to crack - the bench broke
down and then the floor, and the heavy sack fell through into
the cellar. God save us, cried the father, what's that. Now
you have broken our little house to pieces. Don't let that turn
your hair grey, dear father, answered Hans. There, in that sack,
is more than is wanting for a new house. The father and Hans
at once began to build a new house, to buy cattle and land, and
to keep a farm. Hans ploughed the fields, and
when he followed the plough and pushed it into the ground, the
bullocks had scarcely any need to draw.
The next spring, Hans said, keep all the money and have made for
me a walking-stick that weighs a hundred-weight, that I may
go a-traveling. When the stick was ready, he left his father's
house, went forth, and came to a deep, dark forest. There he
heard something crunching and cracking, looked round, and saw
a fir-tree which was wound round like a rope from the bottom to
the top, and when he looked upwards he saw a great fellow who
had laid hold of the tree and was twisting it like a willow-wand.
Hullo, cried Hans, what are you doing up there. The fellow
replied, I got some faggots together yesterday and am twisting
a rope for them. That is what I like, thought Hans, he has some
strength, and he called to him, leave that alone, and come with
me. The fellow came down, and he was taller by a whole head than
Hans, and Hans was not little. Your name is now fir-twister,
said Hans to him. Thereupon they went further and heard something
knocking and hammering with such force that the ground shook
at every stroke. Shortly afterwards they came to a mighty rock,
before which a giant was standing and striking great pieces of
it away with his fist. When Hans asked what he was doing, he
answered, at night, when I want to sleep, bears, wolves, and
other vermin of that kind come, which sniff and snuffle about
me and won't let me rest, so I want to build myself a house and
lay myself inside it, so that I may have some peace. Oh indeed,
thought Hans, I can make use of this one also, and said to him,
leave your house-building alone, and go with me. You shall be
called rock-splitter. The man consented, and they all three
roamed through the forest, and wherever they went the wild beasts
were terrified, and ran away from them. In the evening they
came to an old deserted castle, went up into it, and
laid themselves down in the hall to sleep. The next morning Hans
went into the garden. It had run quite wild, and was full of
thorns and brambles. And as he was thus walking round about,
a wild boar rushed at him, he, however, gave it such a blow
with his club that it fell directly. He took it on his shoulders
and carried it
in, and they put it on a spit, roasted it, and enjoyed themselves.
Then they arranged that each day, in turn, two should go out
hunting, and one should stay at home, and cook nine pounds
of meat for each of them. Fir-twister stayed at home the first,
and Hans and rock-splitter went out hunting. When fir-twister
was busy cooking, a little shrivelled-up old mannikin came to him
in the castle, and asked for some meat. Be off, you sneaking
imp, he answered, you need no meat. But how astonished fir-twister
was when the little insignificant dwarf sprang up at him, and
belabored him so with his fists that he could not defend himself,
but fell on the ground and gasped for breath. The dwarf did
not go away until he had thoroughly vented his anger on him.
When the two others came home from hunting, fir-twister said
nothing to them of the old mannikin and of the blows which he
himself had received, and thought, when they stay at home, they
may just try their chance with the little scrubbing-brush, and
the mere thought of that gave him pleasure already.
The next day rock-splitter stayed at home, and he fared just
as fir-twister had done, being very ill-treated by the dwarf
because he was not willing to give him any meat. When the others
came home in the evening, fir-twister saw clearly what he had
suffered, but both kept silence, and thought, Hans also
must taste some of that soup.
Hans, who had to stay at home the next day, did his work in
the kitchen as it had to be done, and as he was standing
skimming the pan, the dwarf came and without more ado
demanded a piece of meat. Then Hans thought, he is a poor
wretch, I will give him some of my share, that the others may
not run short, and handed him a bit. When the dwarf had
devoured it, he again asked for some meat, and good-natured
Hans gave it to him, and told him it was a handsome piece,
and that he was to be content with it. But the dwarf begged
again for the third time. You are shameless, said Hans, and gave
him none. Then the malicious dwarf wanted to spring on him and
treat him as he had treated fir-twister and rock-splitter, but
he had chosen the wrong man. Hans, without
exerting himself much, gave him a couple of blows which made
him jump down the castle steps. Hans was about to run after him,
but fell right over, flat on his face. When he rose up again,
the dwarf had got the start of him. Hans hurried after him as far
as the forest, and saw him slip into a hole in the rock. Hans now
went home, but he had marked the spot. When the two others
came back, they were surprised that Hans was so well. He told
them what had happened, and then they no longer concealed how
it had fared with them. Hans laughed and said, it served you
quite right. Why were you so mean with your meat. It is a
disgrace that you who are so big should have let yourselves be
beaten by the dwarf. Thereupon they took a basket and a rope,
and all three went to the hole in the rock into which the
dwarf had slipped, and let Hans and his club
down in the basket. When Hans had reached the bottom, he found
a door, and when he opened it a maiden was sitting there
who was lovely as any picture, nay, so beautiful that no words
can express it, and by her side sat the dwarf and grinned at
Hans like a sea-cat. She, however, was bound with chains, and
looked so mournfully at him that Hans felt great pity for her,
and thought to himself, you must deliver her out of the power of
the wicked dwarf, and gave him such a blow with his club that he
fell down dead. Immediately the chains fell from
the maiden, and Hans was enraptured with her beauty. She told
him she was a king's daughter whom a savage count had stolen
away from her home, and imprisoned there among the rocks,
because she would have nothing to say to him. The count, however,
had set the dwarf as a watchman, and he had made her suffer
misery and vexation enough. And now Hans placed the maiden in the
basket and had her drawn up. The basket came down again, but
Hans did not trust his two companions, and thought, they have
already shown themselves to be false, and told me nothing about
the dwarf. Who knows what design they may have against me. So
he put his club in the basket, and it was lucky he did, for when
the basket was half-way up, they let it fall again, and if Hans
had really been sitting in it he would have been killed. But
now he did not know how he was to work his way out of the depths,
and when he turned it over and over in his mind he found no
counsel. It is indeed sad, said he to himself, that I have to
waste away down here, and as he was thus walking backwards and
forwards, he once more came to the little chamber where the maiden
had been sitting, and saw that the dwarf had a ring on his finger
which shone and sparkled. Then he drew it off and put it on, and
when he turned it round on his finger, he suddenly heard something
rustle over his head. He looked up and saw spirits of the air
hovering above, who told him he was their master, and asked
what his desire might be. Hans was at first struck dumb, but
afterwards he said that they were to carry him up again. They
obeyed instantly, and it was just as if he had flown up himself.
But when he had arrived there, he found no one in sight.
Fir-twister and rock-splitter
had hurried away, and had taken the beautiful maiden with them.
But Hans turned the ring, and the spirits of the air came and
told him that the two were on the sea. Hans ran and ran without
stopping, until he came to the sea-shore, and there far, far out
on the water, he perceived a little boat in which his faithless
comrades were sitting, and in fierce anger he leapt, without
thinking what he was doing, club in hand into the water, and
began to swim, but the club, which weighed a hundredweight,
dragged him deep down until he was all but drowned. Then
in the very nick of time he turned his ring, and immediately
the spirits of the air came and bore him as swift as lightning into
the boat. He swung his club and gave his wicked comrades the
reward they merited and threw them into the water, and then he
sailed with the beautiful maiden, who had been in the greatest
alarm, and whom he delivered for the second time, home to her
father and mother, and married her, and all rejoiced exceedingly.
There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had
no daughter, however much he wished for one. At length his
wife again gave him hope of a child, and when it came into
the world it was a girl. The joy was great, but the child was
sickly and small, and had to be privately baptized on account of
its weakness. The father sent one of the boys in haste to the
spring to fetch water for the baptism. The other six went with
him, and as each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug
fell into the well. There they stood and did not know what to do,
and none of them dared to go home. As they still did not return,
the father grew impatient, and said, they have certainly forgotten
it while playing some game, the wicked boys. He became afraid that
the girl would have to die without being baptized, and in his
anger cried, I wish the boys were all turned into ravens. Hardly
was the word spoken before he heard a whirring of wings over his
head, looked up and saw seven coal-black ravens flying away.
The parents could not withdraw the curse, and however sad they
were at the loss of their seven sons, they still to some extent
comforted themselves with their dear little daughter, who soon
grew strong and every day became more beautiful. For a long time
she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents were
careful not to mention them before her, but one day she
accidentally heard some people saying of herself, that the girl was
certainly beautiful, but that in reality she was to blame for the
misfortune which had befallen her seven brothers. Then she was much
troubled, and went to her father and mother and asked if it was
true that she had had brothers, and what had become of them. The
parents now dared keep the secret no longer, but said that what
had befallen her brothers was the will of heaven, and that her
birth had only been the innocent cause. But the maiden took it to
heart daily, and thought she must save her brothers. She had no
rest or peace until she set out secretly, and went forth into the
wide world to search for her brothers and set them free, let it
cost what it might. She took nothing with her but a little ring
belonging to her parents as a keepsake, a loaf of bread against
hunger, a little pitcher of water against thirst, and a little
chair as a provision against weariness.
And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of
the world. Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and
terrible, and devoured little children. Hastily she ran away, and
ran to the moon, but it was far too cold, and also awful and
malicious, and when it saw the child, it said, I smell, I smell
the flesh of men. At this she ran swiftly away, and came to the
stars, which were kind and good to her, and each of them sat on its
own particular little chair. But the morning star arose, and gave
her the drumstick of a chicken, and said, if you have not that
drumstick you can not open the glass mountain, and in the glass
mountain are your brothers.
The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a cloth,
and went onwards again until she came to the glass mountain. The
door was shut, and she thought she would take out the drumstick.
But when she undid the cloth, it was empty, and she had lost the
good star's present. What was she now to do. She wished to rescue
her brothers, and had no key to the glass mountain. The good
sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it in
the door, and succeeded in opening it. When she had gone inside, a
little dwarf came to meet her, who said, my child, what are you
looking for. I am looking for my brothers, the seven ravens, she
replied. The dwarf said, the lord ravens are not at home, but if
you will wait here until they come, step in. Thereupon the little
dwarf carried the ravens' dinner in, on seven little plates, and
in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a morsel from
each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip, but in the
last little glass she dropped the ring which she had brought away
with her.
Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing through
the air, and then the little dwarf said, now the lord ravens are
flying home. Then they came, and wanted to eat and drink, and
looked for their little plates and glasses. Then said one after
the other, who has eaten something from my plate. Who has drunk
out of my little glass. It was a human mouth. And when the
seventh came to the bottom of the glass, the ring rolled against
his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw that it was a ring
belonging to his father and mother, and said, God grant that our
sister may be here, and then we shall be free. When the maiden,
who was standing behind the door watching, heard that wish,
she came forth, and on this all the ravens were restored to their
human form again. And they embraced and kissed each other,
and went joyfully home.
There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son,
and as he came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted
that in his fourteenth year he would have the king's daughter
for his wife. It happened that soon afterwards the king
came into the village, and no one knew that he was the king,
and when he asked the people what news there was, they answered,
a child has just been born with a caul on, whatever anyone so
born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that
in his fourteenth year he will have the king's daughter for his
wife.
The king, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy,
went to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, you poor
people, let me have your child, and I will take care of it. At
first they refused, but when the stranger offered them a large
amount of gold for it, and they thought, it is a child of good
fortune, and everything must turn out well for it, they at last
consented, and gave him the child.
The king put it in a box and rode away with it until he came to
a deep piece of water, then he threw the box into it and thought,
I have freed my daughter from her undesired suitor.
The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not
a drop of water made its way into it. And it floated to within
two miles of the king's chief city, where there was a mill, and
it came to a halt at the mill-dam. A miller's boy, who by good
luck was standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook,
thinking that he had found a great treasure, but when he opened
it there lay a pretty boy inside, quite fresh and lively. He
took him to the miller and his wife, and as they had no children
they were glad, and said, "God has given him to us." They took
great care of the foundling, and he grew up in all goodness.
It happened that once in a storm, the king went into the mill, and
asked the mill-folk if the tall youth were their son. No,
answered they, he's a foundling. Fourteen years ago he floated
down to the mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled him out
of the water.
Then the king knew that it was none other than the child of
good fortune which he had thrown into the water, and he said,
my good people, could not the youth take a letter to the queen.
I will give him two gold pieces as a reward. Just as the king
commands, answered they, and they told the boy to hold himself
in readiness. Then the king wrote a letter to the queen, wherein
he said, as soon as the boy arrives with this letter, let him be
killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home.
The boy set out with this letter, but he lost his way, and in the
evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small
light, he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went in,
an old woman was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started
when she saw the boy, and said, whence do you come, and whither
are you going. I come from the mill, he answered, and wish
to go to the queen, to whom I am taking a letter, but as I have
lost my way in the forest I should like to stay here over night.
You poor boy, said the woman, you have come into a den of thieves,
and when they come home they will kill you. Let them come,
said the boy, I am not afraid, but I am so tired that I cannot go
any farther. And he stretched himself upon a bench and fell
asleep.
Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what strange
boy was lying there. Ah, said the old woman, it is an innocent
child who has lost himself in the forest, and out of pity I have
let him come in, he has to take a letter to the queen. The robbers
opened the letter and read it, and in it was written that the
boy as soon as he arrived should be put to death. Then the
hardhearted robbers felt pity, and their leader tore up the letter
and wrote another, saying, that as soon as the boy came, he should
be married at once to the king's daughter. Then they let him lie
quietly on the bench until the next morning, and when he awoke
they gave him the letter, and showed him the right way.
And the queen, when she had received the letter and read it,
did as was written in it, and had a splendid wedding-feast
prepared, and the king's daughter was married to the child of
good fortune, and as the youth was handsome and friendly she lived
with him in joy and contentment.
After some time the king returned to his palace and saw that
the prophecy was fulfilled, and the child married to his daughter.
How has that come to pass, said he, I gave quite another order
in my letter.
So the queen gave him the letter, and said that he might see for
himself what was written in it. The king read the letter and
saw quite well that it had been exchanged for the other. He
asked the youth what had become of the letter entrusted to him,
and why he had brought another instead of it. I know nothing
about it, answered he, it must have been changed in the night,
when I slept in the forest. The king said in a passion, you shall
not have everything quite so much your own way, whosoever marries
my daughter must fetch me from hell three golden hairs from
the head of the devil, bring me what I want, and you shall keep
my daughter. In this way the king hoped to be rid of him for ever.
But the child of good fortune answered, I will fetch the golden
hairs, I am not afraid of the devil. Whereupon he took leave of
them and began his journey.
The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the gates
asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I know
everything, answered the child of good fortune. Then you can do us
a favor, said the watchman, if you will tell us why our market
fountain, which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no
longer gives even water. That you shall know, answered he, only
wait until I come back.
Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also the
gatekeeper asked him what was his trade, and what he knew.
I know everything, answered he. Then you can do us a favor and
tell us why a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now
does not even put forth leaves. You shall know that, answered he,
only wait until I come back.
Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must cross.
The ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I
know everything, answered he. Then you can do me a favor, said
the ferryman, and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards
and forwards, and am never set free. You shall know that,
answered he, only wait until I come back.
When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to hell. It
was black and sooty within, and the devil was not at home, but
his grandmother was sitting in a large arm-chair. What do you
want, said she to him, but she did not look so very wicked. I
should like to have three golden hairs from the devil's head,
answered he, else I cannot keep my wife. That is a good deal
to ask for, said she, if the devil comes home and finds you, it
will cost you your life, but as I pity you, I will see if I cannot
help you.
She changed him into an ant and said, creep into the folds of my
dress, you will be safe there. Yes, answered he, so far, so good,
but there are three things besides that I want to know - why a
fountain which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no
longer gives even water, why a tree which once bore golden apples
does not even put forth leaves, and why a ferryman must always be
going backwards and forwards, and is never set free.
Those are difficult questions, answered she, but just be silent
and quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull out
the three golden hairs.
As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner had he
entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. I smell man's
flesh, said he, all is not right here. Then he pried into
every corner, and searched, but could not find anything. His
grandmother scolded him. It has just been swept, said she, and
everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it again, you
have always got man's flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your
supper.
When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in
his grandmother's lap, and told her she should louse him a little.
It was not long before he was fast asleep, snoring and breathing
heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden hair, pulled
it out, and laid it down beside her. Oh, cried the devil,
what are you doing. I have had a bad dream, answered the
grandmother, so I seized hold of your hair. What did you dream
then, said the devil. I dreamt that a fountain in a market-place
from which wine once flowed was dried up, and not even water
would flow out of it - what is the cause of it. Oh, ho, if they
did but know it, answered the devil, there is a toad sitting
under a stone in the well - if they killed it, the wine would flow
again.
The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and
snored so that the windows shook. Then she pulled the second hair
out. Ha, what are you doing, cried the devil angrily. Do not
take it ill, said she, I did it in a dream. What have you dreamt
this time, asked he. I dreamt that in a certain kingdom there
stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples, but now
would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason.
Oh, if they did but know, answered the devil. A mouse is
gnawing at the root - if they killed it they would have golden
apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither
altogether. But I have had enough of your dreams, if you disturb
me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.
The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once
more until he fell asleep and snored. Then she took hold of the
third golden hair and pulled it out. The devil jumped up,
roared out, and would have treated her ill if she had not
quieted him again and said, who can help bad dreams. What
was the dream, then, asked he, and was quite curious. I dreamt
of a ferryman who complained that he must always ferry from
one side to the other, and was never released. What is the
cause of it. Ah, the fool, answered the devil, when anyone
comes and wants to go across he must put the oar in his hand,
and the other man will have
to ferry and he will be free. As the grandmother had plucked
out the three golden hairs, and the three questions were
answered, she let the old devil alone, and he slept until
daybreak.
When the devil had gone out again the old woman took the ant
out of the folds of her dress, and gave the child of good
fortune his human shape again. There are the three golden
hairs for you, said she. What the devil said to your three
questions, I suppose you heard. Yes, answered he, I heard, and
will take care to remember. You have what you want, said she,
and now you can go your way. He thanked the old woman for
helping him in his need, and left hell well content that
everything had turned out so fortunately.
When he came to the ferryman he was expected to give the
promised answer. Ferry me across first, said the child of good
fortune, and then I will tell you how you can be set free, and
when he reached the opposite shore he gave him the devil's advice.
Next time anyone comes, who wants to be ferried over, just put the
oar in his hand.
He went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful
tree, and there too the watchman wanted an answer. So he
told him what he had heard from the devil. Kill the mouse
which is gnawing at its root, and it will again bear golden
apples. Then the watchman thanked him, and gave him as a reward
two asses laden with gold, which followed him.
Finally, he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the
watchman what the devil had said, a toad is in the well beneath
a stone, you must find it and kill it, and the well will again
give wine in plenty. The watchman thanked him, and also
gave him two asses laden with gold.
At last the child of good fortune got home to his wife, who
was heartily glad to see him again, and to hear how well he had
prospered in everything. To the king he took what he had asked
for, the devil's three golden hairs, and when the king saw the
four asses laden with gold he was quite content, and said, now
all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter.
But tell
me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold come from - this
is tremendous wealth. I was rowed across a river, answered he,
and got it there, it lies on the shore instead of sand. Can I
too fetch some of it, said the king, and he was quite eager
about it. As much as you like, answered he. There is a
ferryman on the river, let him ferry you over, and you can fill
your sacks on the other side. The greedy king set out in all
haste, and when he came to the river he beckoned to the ferryman
to put him across. The ferryman came and bade him get in,
and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his
hand and sprang over. But from this time forth the king had to
ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying
still. If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from
him.
In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king
whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful
that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever
it shone in her face. Close by the king's castle lay a great dark
forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when
the day was very warm, the king's child went out into the forest and
sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was bored she
took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this
ball was her favorite plaything.
Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess's golden ball
did not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it,
but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The
king's daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the
well was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. At this
she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be
comforted. And as she thus lamented someone said to her, "What ails
you, king's daughter? You weep so that even a stone would show pity."
She looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a
frog stretching forth its big, ugly head from the water. "Ah, old
water-splasher, is it you," she said, "I am weeping for my golden ball,
which has fallen into the well." "Be quiet, and do not weep," answered
the frog, "I can help you, but what will you give me if I bring your
plaything up again?" "Whatever you will have, dear frog," said she, "My
clothes, my pearls and jewels, and even the golden crown which I am
wearing." The frog answered, "I do not care for your clothes, your
pearls and jewels, nor for your golden crown, but if you will love me
and let me be your companion and play-fellow, and sit by you at your
little table, and eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of
your little cup, and sleep in your little bed - if you will promise
me this I will go down below, and bring you your golden ball up
again."
"Oh yes," said she, "I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring
me my ball back again." But she thought, "How the silly frog does
talk. All he does is to sit in the water with the other frogs, and
croak. He can be no companion to any human being."
But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the
water and sank down; and in a short while came swimmming up again
with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The king's
daughter was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and
picked it up, and ran away with it. "Wait, wait," said the frog. "Take
me with you. I can't run as you can." But what did it avail him to
scream his croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could. She did
not listen to it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was
forced to go back into his well again.
The next day when she had seated herself at table with the king and
all the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate,
something came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble
staircase, and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and
cried, "Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me." She ran to
see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog
in front of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat
down to dinner again, and was quite frightened. The king saw plainly
that her heart was beating violently, and said, "My child, what are
you so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to
carry you away?" "Ah, no," replied she. "It is no giant but a disgusting
frog."
"What does a frog want with you?" "Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was
in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into
the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for
me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my
companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his
water. And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me."
In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried, "Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me, do you not know what you
said to me yesterday by the cool waters of the well. Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me."
Then said the king, "That which you have promised must you perform.
Go and let him in." She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped
in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and
cried, "Lift me up beside you." She delayed, until at last the king
commanded her to do it. Once the frog was on the chair he wanted to
be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, "Now, push your
little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together." She did
this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The
frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked
her. At length he said, "I have eaten and am satisfied, now I am
tired, carry me into your little room and make your little silken bed
ready, and we will both lie down and go to sleep."
The king's daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog
which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her
pretty, clean little bed. But the king grew angry and said, "He who
helped you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards to be
despised by you." So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner, but when she was in
bed he crept to her and said, "I am tired, I want to sleep as well as
you, lift me up or I will tell your father." At this she was terribly
angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the
wall. "Now, will you be quiet, odious frog," said she. But when he
fell down he was no frog but a king's son with kind and beautiful
eyes. He by her father's will was now her dear companion and
husband. Then he told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked
witch, and how no one could have delivered him from the well but
herself, and that to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom.
Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke them, a
carriage came driving up with eight white horses, which had white
ostrich feathers on their heads, and were harnessed with golden
chains, and behind stood the young king's servant Faithful Henry.
Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a
frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid round his heart,
lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to
conduct the young king into his kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them
both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of joy because
of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the way the
king's son heard a cracking behind him as if something had broken.
So he turned round and cried, "Henry, the carriage is breaking."
"No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart,
which was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and
imprisoned in the well." Again and once again while they were on
their way something cracked, and each time the king's son thought the
carriage was breaking, but it was only the bands which were springing
from the heart of Faithful Henry because his master was set free and
was happy.
There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day
she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called
all seven to her and said, dear children, I have to go into the
forest, be on your guard against the wolf, if he comes in, he will
devour you all - skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often
disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice
and his black feet. The kids said, dear mother, we will take good
care of ourselves, you may go away without any anxiety. Then the old
one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.
It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and called,
open the door, dear children, your mother is here, and has brought
something back with her for each of you. But the little kids knew
that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. We will not open the door,
cried they, you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice,
but your voice is rough, you are the wolf. Then the wolf went away
to a shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this
and made his voice soft with it. The he came back, knocked at the
door of the house, and called, open the door, dear children, your
mother is here and has brought something back with her for each of
you. But the wolf had laid his black paws against the window, and
the children saw them and cried, we will not open the door, our
mother has not black feet like you, you are the wolf. Then the wolf
ran to a baker and said, I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over
them for me. And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to
the miller and said, strew some white meal over my feet for me. The
miller thought to himself, the wolf wants to deceive someone, and
refused, but the wolf said, if you will not do it, I will devour you.
Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly,
this the way of mankind.
So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked
at it and said, open the door for me, children, your dear little
mother has come home, and has brought every one of you something back
from the forest with her. The little kids cried, first show us your
paws that we may know if you are our dear little mother. Then he put
his paws in through the window, and when the kids saw that they were
white, they believed that all he said was true, and opened the door.
But who should come in but the wolf they were terrified and wanted to
hide themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the
bed, the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth
into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh
into the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great
ceremony, one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The
youngest, who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not
find. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off,
laid himself down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began
to sleep. Soon afterwards the old goat came home again from the
forest. Ah. What a sight she saw there. The house-door stood wide
open. The table, chairs, and benches were thrown down, the
washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts and pillows were
pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they were nowhere
to be found. She called them one after another by name, but no one
answered. At last, when she caame to the youngest, a soft voice
cried, dear mother, I am in the clock-case. She took the kid out,
and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others.
Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.
At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with
her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree
and snored so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on
every side and saw that something was moving and struggling in his
gorged belly. Ah, heavens, she said, is it possible that my poor
children whom he has swallowed down for his supper, can be still
alive. Then the kid had to run home and fetch scissors, and a needle
and thread and the goat cut open the monster's stomach, and hardly
had she make one cut, than one little kid thrust its head out, and
when she cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were
all still alive, and had suffered no injury whatever, for in his
greediness the monster had swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing
there was. They embraced their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor
at his wedding. The mother, however, said, now go and look for some
big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast's stomach with them
while he is still asleep. Then the seven kids dragged the stones
thither with all speed, and put as many of them into his stomach as
they could get in, and the mother sewed him up again in the greatest
haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once stirred.
When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his
legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he
wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move
about, the stones in his stomach knocked against each other and
rattled. Then cried he, what rumbles and tumbles against my poor
bones. I thought 'twas six kids, but it feels like big stones. And
when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the
heavy stones made him fall in, and he had to drown miserably. When
the seven kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried
aloud, the wolf is dead. The wolf is dead, and danced for joy round
about the well with their mother.
There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the
hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and spun. Then
said he, how sad it is that we have no children. With us all
is so quiet, and in other houses it is noisy and lively.
Yes, replied the wife, and sighed, even if we had only one,
and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be
quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.
Now it so happened that the woman fell ill, and after seven
months gave birth to a child, that was perfect in all its limbs,
but no longer than a thumb. Then said they, it is as we wished
it to be, and it shall be our dear child. And because of its
size, they called it thumbling. Though they did not let it want
for food, the child did not grow taller, but remained as it had
been at the first. Nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its
eyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature,
for everything it did turned out well.
One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to
cut wood, when he said as if to himself, how I wish that there
was someone who would bring the cart to me. Oh father, cried
thumbling, I will soon bring the cart, rely on that. It shall
be in the forest at the appointed time. The man smiled and
said, how can that be done, you are far too small to lead the
horse by the reins. That's of no consequence, father, if my
mother will only harness it, I shall sit in the horse's ear
and call out to him how he is to go. Well, answered the man,
for once we will try it.
When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed
thumbling in its ear, and then the little creature cried, gee
up, gee up.
Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart
went the right way into the forest. It so happened that just
as he was turning a corner, and the little one was crying, gee
up, two strange men came towards him. My word, said one of them,
what is this. There is a cart coming, and a driver is calling to
the horse and still he is not to be seen. That can't be right,
said the other, we will follow the cart and see where it stops. The
cart, however, drove right into the forest, and exactly to the
place where the wood had been cut. When thumbling saw his
father, he cried to him, do you see, father, here I am with the
cart, now take me down. The father got hold of the horse with
his left hand and with the right took his little son out of the
ear. Thumbling sat down quite merrily on a straw, but when the
two strange men
saw him, they did not know what to say for
astonishment. Then one of them took the other aside and said,
listen, the little fellow would make our fortune if we exhibited
him in a large town, for money. We will buy him. They went to
the peasant and said, sell us the little man. He shall be well
treated with us. No, replied the father, he is the apple of my
eye, and all the money in the world cannot buy him from me.
Thumbling, however, when he heard of the bargain, had crept up
the folds of his father's coat, placed himself on his shoulder,
and whispered in his ear, father do give me away, I will soon
come back again. Then the father parted with him to the two
men for a handsome sum of money. Where will you sit, they
said to him. Oh just set me on the rim of your hat, and then I
can walk backwards and forwards and look at the country, and
still not fall down. They did as he wished, and when thumbling
had taken leave of his father, they went away with him. They
walked until it was dusk, and then the little fellow said,
do take me down, it is necessary. Just stay up there, said the
man on whose hat he sat, it makes no difference to me. The birds
sometimes let things fall on me. No, said thumbling, I
know what's manners, take me quickly down. The man took his hat
off, and put the little fellow on the ground by the wayside, and
he leapt and crept about a little between the sods, and then he
suddenly slipped into a mousehole which he had sought out.
Good evening, gentlemen, just go home without me, he cried to
them, and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their sticks
into the mousehole, but it was all in vain. Thumbling crept
still farther in, and as it soon became quite
dark, they were forced to go home with their vexation and
their empty purses.
When thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the
subterranean passage. It is so dangerous to walk on the ground
in the dark, said he, how easily a neck or a leg is broken.
Fortunately he stumbled against an empty snail-shell. Thank God,
said he, in that I can pass the night in safety. And got into it.
Not long afterwards, when he was just going to sleep, he heard two
men go by, and one of them was saying, how shall we set about
getting hold of the rich pastor's silver and gold. I could tell
you that, cried thumbling, interrupting them. What was that, said
one of the thieves in fright, I heard someone speaking. They stood
still listening, and thumbling spoke again, and said, take
me with you, and I'll help you.
But where are you. Just look on the ground, and observe from
whence my voice comes, he replied. There the thieves at length
found him, and lifted him up. You little imp, how will you help
us, they said. Listen, said he, I will creep into the pastor's
room through the iron bars, and will reach out to you whatever
you want to have. Come then, they said, and we will see what you
can do. When they got to the pastor's house, thumbling crept into
the room, but instantly cried out with all his might, do you want
to have everything that is here. The thieves were alarmed, and
said, but do speak softly, so as not to waken any one. Thumbling
however, behaved as if he had not understood this, and cried
again, what do you want. Do you want to have everything that is
here. The cook, who slept in the next room, heard this and sat up
in bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had in their fright
run some distance away, but at last they took courage, and
thought, the little rascal wants to mock us. They came back and
whispered to him, come be serious, and reach something out to us.
Then thumbling again cried as loudly as he could, I really will
give you everything, just put your hands in. The maid who was
listening, heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed
and rushed to the door. The thieves took flight, and ran as if
the wild huntsman
were behind them, but as the maid could not see
anything, she went to strike a light. When she came to the
place with it, thumbling, unperceived, betook himself to the
granary, and the maid after she had examined every corner and
found nothing, lay down in her bed again, and believed that,
after all, she had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.
Thumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful
place to sleep in. There he intended to rest until day, and
then go home again to his parents. But there were other things in
store for him. Truly, there is much worry and affliction in
this world. When the day dawned, the maid arose from her bed to
feed the cows. Her first walk was into the barn, where she laid
hold of an armful of hay, and precisely that very one in which
poor thumbling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so
soundly that he was aware of nothing, and did not awake until he
was in the mouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay.
Ah, heavens, cried he, how have I got into the fulling mill. But
he soon discovered where he was. Then he had to take care not to
let himself go between the teeth and be dismembered, but he was
subsequently forced to slip down into the stomach with the hay.
In this little room the windows are forgotten, said he, and no
sun shines in, neither will a candle be brought. His quarters
were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was that more
and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew
less and less. When at length in his anguish, he cried as
loud as he could, bring me no more fodder, bring me no more
fodder. The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard
some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived that it was the
same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so
terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk.
She ran in great haste to her master, and said, oh heavens,
pastor, the cow has been speaking. You are mad, replied the
pastor, but he went himself to the byre to see what was there.
Hardly, however had he set his foot inside when thumbling again
cried, bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder. Then
the pastor himself was alarmed, and thought that an evil
spirit had gone into the cow, and ordered her to be killed. She was
killed, but the stomach, in which thumbling was, was thrown on
the dunghill. Thumbling had great difficulty in working his
way out. However, he succeeded so far as to get some room, but
just as he was going to thrust his head out, a new misfortune
occurred. A hungry wolf ran thither, and swallowed the whole
stomach at one gulp. Thumbling did not lose courage. Perhaps,
thought he, the wolf will listen to what I have got to say. And
he called to him from out of his belly, dear wolf, I know of a
magnificent feast for you.
Where is it to be had, said the wolf.
In such and such a house. You must creep into it through the
kitchen-sink, and will find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and
as much of them as you can eat. And he described to him exactly
his father's house. The wolf did not require to be told this
twice, squeezed himself in at night through the sink, and ate to
his heart's content in the larder. When he had eaten his fill,
he wanted to go out again, but he had become so big that he could
not go out by the same way. Thumbling had reckoned on this, and
now began to make a violent noise in the wolf's body, and raged
and screamed as loudly as he could. Will you be quiet, said the
wolf, you will waken up the people. What do I care, replied the
little fellow, you have eaten your fill, and I will make merry
likewise. And began once more to scream with all his strength.
At last his father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to the
room and looked in through the opening in the door. When they
saw that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and teh husband
fetched his axe, and the wife the scythe. Stay behind, said the
man, when they entered the room. When I have given the blow, if
he is not killed by it, you must cut him down and hew his body
to pieces. Then thumbling heard his parents, voices and cried,
dear father, I am here, I am in the wolf's body. Said the father,
full of joy, thank God, our dear child has found us again. And
bade the
woman take away her scythe, that thumbling might not be hurt
with it. After that he raised his arm, and struck the wolf
such a blow on his head that he fell down
dead, and then they got knives and scissors and cut his body open
and drew the little fellow forth.
Ah, said the father, what sorrow we have gone through for your
sake. Yes father, I have gone about the world a great deal.
Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again. Where have you been,
then. Ah, father, I have been in a mouse's hole, in a cow's
belly, and then in a wolf's paunch. Now I will stay with you.
And we will not sell you again, no not for all the riches in
the world, said his parents, and they embraced and kissed their
dear thumbling. They gave him to eat and to drink, and had
some new clothes made for him, for his own had been spoiled
on his journey.
One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his table
by the window, he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his
might. Then came a peasant woman down the street crying, good
jams, cheap. Good jams, cheap. This rang pleasantly in the
tailor's ears, he stretched his delicate head out of the
window, and called, come up here, dear woman, here you will get
rid of your goods. The woman came up the three steps to the
tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all the pots
for him. He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it,
and at length said, the jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me
out four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound
that is of no consequence. The woman who had hoped to find a
good sale, gave him what he desired, but went away quite angry
and grumbling. Now, this jam shall be blessed by God, cried the
little tailor, and give me health and strength. So he brought
the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself a piece right across
the loaf and spread the jam over it. This won't taste bitter,
said he, but I will just finish the jacket before I take a bite.
He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy, made bigger
and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam
rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers, and they
were attracted and descended on it in hosts. HI, who invited you,
said the little tailor, and drove the unbidden guests away. The
flies, however, who understood no german, would not be turned
away, but came back again in ever-increasing companies. The
little tailor at last lost all patience,
and drew a piece of cloth from the hole under his work-table, and
saying, wait, and I will give it to you, struck it mercilessly
on them. When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him
no fewer than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. Are you a
fellow of that sort, said he, and could not help admiring his own
bravery. The whole town shall know of this. And the little tailor
hastened to cut himself a girdle, stitched it, and embroidered on
it in large letters, seven at one stroke. What, the town, he
continued, the whole world shall hear of it. And his heart
wagged with joy like a lamb's tail. The tailor put on the girdle,
and resolved to go forth into the world, because he thought his
workshop was too small for his valor. Before he went away, he
sought about in the house to see if there was anything which he
could take with him, however, he found nothing but an old cheese,
and that he put in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a
bird which had caught itself in the thicket. It had to go into his
pocket with the cheese. Now he took to the road boldly, and as he
was light and nimble, he felt no fatigue. The road led him up a
mountain, and when he had reached the highest point of it, there
sat a powerful giant looking peacefully about him. The little
tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said, good day, comrade,
so you are sitting there overlooking the wide-spread world. I am
just on my way thither, and want to try my luck. Have you any
inclination to go with me. The giant looked contemptuously at the
tailor, and said, you ragamuffin. You miserable creature.
Oh, indeed, answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat,
and showed the giant the girdle, there may you read what kind of
a man I am. The giant read, seven at one stroke. And thought
that they had been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to
feel a little respect for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he
wished to try him first, and took a stone in his hand and
squeezed it together so that water dropped out of it. Do that
likewise, said the giant, if you have strength. Is that all, said
the tailor, that is child's play with us, and put his hand into his
pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until the
liquid ran out
of it. Faith, said he, that was a little better, wasn't it. The
giant did not know what to say, and could not believe it of the
little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high
that the eye could scarcely follow it. Now, little mite of a man,
do that likewise. Well thrown, said the tailor, but after all the
stone came down to earth again, I will throw you one which shall
never come back at all. And he put his hand into his pocket,
took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The bird,
delighted with its liberty, rose, flew away and did not come
back. How does that shot please you, comrade, asked the tailor.
You can certainly throw, said the giant, but now we will see if
you are able to carry anything properly. He took the little
tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay there felled on the ground,
and said, if you are strong enough, help me to carry the tree out
of the forest. Readily, answered the little man, take the trunk
on your shoulders, and I will raise up the branches and twigs,
after all, they are the heaviest. The giant took the trunk on
his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the
giant who could not look round, had to carry away the whole tree,
and the little tailor into the bargain, he behind, was quite
merry and happy, and whistled the song, three tailors rode forth
from the gate, as if carrying the tree were child's play. The
giant, after he had dragged the heavy burden part of the way,
could go no further, and cried, hark you, I shall have to let the
tree fall. The tailor sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with
both arms as if he had been carrying it, and said to the giant,
you are such a great fellow, and yet can not even carry the tree.
They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant
laid hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was
hanging, bent it down, gave it into the tailor's hand, and bade
him eat. But the little tailor was much too weak to hold the
tree, and when the giant let it go, it sprang back again, and the
tailor was tossed into the air with it. When he had fallen down
again without injury, the giant said, what is this. Have you
not strength enough to hold the weak twig. There is no lack of
strength, answered the little tailor. Do you think that could be
anything to a man who has
struck down seven at one blow. I leapt over the tree because the
huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. Jump as I did,
if you can do it. The giant made the attempt, but could not get
over the tree, and remained hanging in the branches, so that in
this also the tailor kept the upper hand.
The giant said, if you are such a valiant fellow, come with me
into our cavern and spend the night with us. The little tailor
was willing, and followed him. When they went into the cave,
other giants were sitting there by the fire, and each of them
had a roasted sheep in his hand and was eating it. The little
tailor looked round and thought, it is much more spacious here
than in my workshop. The giant showed him a bed, and said he was
to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was too big for
the little tailor, he did not lie down in it, but crept into a
corner. When it was midnight, and the giant thought that the
little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great
iron bar, cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had
finished off the grasshopper for good. With the earliest dawn
the giants went into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little
tailor, when all at once he walked up to them quite merrily
and boldly. The giants were terrified, they were afraid that he
would strike them all dead, and ran away in a great hurry.
The little tailor went onwards, always following his own
pointed nose. After he had walked for a long time, he came to the
courtyard of a royal palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down
on the grass and fell asleep. Whilst he lay there, the people
came and inspected him on all sides, and read on his girdle,
seven at one stroke. Ah, said they, what does the great warrior
here in the midst of peace. He must be a mighty lord. They went
and announced him to the king, and gave it as their opinion that
if war should break out, this would be a weighty and useful man
who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The counsel
pleased the king, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little
tailor to offer him military service when he awoke. The
ambassador remained standing by the sleeper, waited until he
stretched his limbs and
opened his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. For this
reason have I come here, the tailor replied, I am ready to enter
the king's service. He was therefore honorably received and a
special dwelling was assigned him.
The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and
wished him a thousand miles away. What is to be the end of this,
they said among themselves. If we quarrel with him, and he strikes
about him, seven of us will fall at every blow, not one of
us can stand against him. They came therefore to a decision,
betook themselves in a body to the king, and begged for their
dismissal. We are not prepared, said they, to stay with a man
who kills seven at one stroke. The king was sorry that for the
sake of one he should lose all his faithful servants, wished that
he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would willingly have
been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give him his
dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all his
people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought
about it for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He
sent to the little tailor and caused him to be informed that as
he was such a great warrior, he had one request to make of him.
In a forest of his country lived two giants who caused great
mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging, and burning,
and no one could approach them without putting himself in danger
of death. If the tailor conquered and killed these two giants,
he would give him his only daughter to wife, and half of his
kingdom as a dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen should go with
him to assist him. That would indeed be a fine thing for a man
like me, thought the little tailor. One is not offered a
beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one's life.
Oh, yes, he replied, I will soon subdue the giants, and do not
require the help of the hundred horsemen to do it, he who can
hit seven with one blow has no need to be afraid of two.
The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed
him. When he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to
his followers, just stay waiting here, I alone will soon finish
off the giants. Then he bounded into the forest and looked about
right and left. After a while he perceived both giants. They lay
sleeping under a tree, and snored so that the branches waved up
and down. The little tailor, not idle, gathered two pocketsful
of stones, and with these climbed up the tree. When he was
half-way up, he slipped down by a branch, until he sat just above
the sleepers, and then let one stone after another fall on the
breast of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt
nothing, but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, why
are you knocking me. You must be dreaming, said the other, I am
not knocking you. They laid themselves down to sleep again, and
then the tailor threw a stone down on the second. What is the
meaning of this, cried the other. Why are you pelting me. I am
not pelting you, answered the first, growling. They disputed
about it for a time, but as they were weary they let the matter
rest, and their eyes closed once more. The little tailor began
his game again, picked out the biggest stone, and threw it with
all his might on the breast of the first giant. That is too
bad, cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and pushed his
companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid him
back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they
tore up trees and belabored each other so long, that at last they
both fell down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the
little tailor leapt down. It is a lucky thing, said he, that
they did not tear up the tree on which I was sitting, or I should
have had to spring on to another like a squirrel, but we tailors
are nimble. He drew out his sword and gave each of them a couple
of thrusts in the breast, and then went out to the horsemen and
said, the work is done, I have finished both of them off, but it
was hard work. They tore up trees in their sore need, and
defended themselves with them, but all that is to no purpose
when a man like myself comes, who can kill seven at one blow.
But you are not wounded, asked the horsemen. You need not
concern yourself about that, answered the tailor, they have not
bent one hair of mine. The horsemen would not believe him, and
rode into the forest, there they found the giants swimming in their
blood, and all round about lay the torn-up trees.
The little tailor demanded of the king the promised reward. He,
however, repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how
he could get rid of the hero. Before you receive my daughter,
and the half of my kingdom, said he to him, you must perform one
more heroic deed. In the forest roams a unicorn which does great
harm, and you must catch it first. I fear one unicorn still
less than two giants. Seven at one blow, is my kind of affair.
He took a rope and an axe with him, went forth into the forest,
and again bade those who were sent with him to wait outside. He
had not long to seek. The unicorn soon came towards him, and
rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would gore him with its
horn without more ado. Softly, softly, it can't be done as
quickly as that, said he, and stood still and waited until the
animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree.
The unicorn ran against the tree with all its strength, and
struck its horn so fast in the trunk that it had not strength
enough to draw it out again, and thus it was caught. Now, I have
got the bird, said the tailor, and came out from behind the tree
and put the rope round its neck, and then with his axe he hewed
the horn out of the tree, and when all was ready he led the beast
away and took it to the king.
The king still would not give him the promised reward, and made
a third demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a
wild boar that made great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen
should give him their help. Willingly, said the tailor, that is
child's play. He did not take the huntsmen with him into the
forest, and they were well pleased that he did not, for the wild
boar had several times received them in such a manner that they
had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When the boar
perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and
whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the
hero fled and sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to the
window at once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran in
after him, but the tailor ran round outside and shut the door
behind it, and then the raging beast, which was much too heavy
and awkward to leap out of the window, was caught. The little
tailor called the huntsmen thither
that they might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero,
however went to the king, who was now, whether he liked it or
not, obliged to keep his promise, and gave him his daughter and
the half of his kingdom. Had he known that it was no warlike
hero, but a little tailor who was standing before him it would
have gone to his heart still more than it did. The wedding was
held with great magnificence and small joy, and out of a
tailor a king was made.
After some time the young queen heard her husband say in his
dreams at night, boy, make me the doublet, and patch the
pantaloons, or else I will rap the yard-measure over your ears.
Then she discovered in what state of life the young lord had been
born, and next morning complained of her wrongs to her father, and
begged him to help her to get rid of her husband, who was
nothing else but a tailor. The king comforted her and said,
leave your bedroom door open this night, and my servants shall
stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in, bind
him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him into the
wide world. The woman was satisfied with this, but the king's
armor-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young
lord, and informed him of the whole plot. I'll put a screw into
that business, said the little tailor. At night he went to bed
with his wife at the usual time, and when she thought that he
had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door, and then lay down
again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to be asleep,
began to cry out in a clear voice, boy, make me the doublet and
patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the yard-measure over
your ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I
brought away one unicorn and caught a wild boar, and am I to
fear those who are standing outside the room. When these men
heard the tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by a great
dread, and ran as if the wild huntsman were behind them, and none
of them would venture anything further against him. So the little
tailor was and remained a king to the end of his life.
There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
only one goat. But as the goat supported all of them with
her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken
every day to pasture. The sons did this, in turn. Once the eldest
took her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found,
and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time to
go home he asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat answered
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and took hold of the cord
round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely.
Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had as much food as she
ought. Oh, answered the son, she has eaten so much, not a
leaf more she'll touch. But the father wished to satisfy himself,
and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal and asked,
goat, are you satisfied. The goat answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
What do I hear, cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the
youth. HI, you liar, you said the goat had had enough, and have
let her hunger, and in his anger he took the yard-measure from
the wall, and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who sought a place
in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and
the goat gobbled them all up. At night when he wanted to go home,
he asked, goat, are you satisfied. The goat answered,
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her home, and tied her
up in the stable. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had as
much food as she ought. Oh, answered the son, she has eaten
so much, not a leaf more she'll touch. The tailor would not rely
on this, but went down to the stable and said, goat, have you had
enough. The goat answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
The godless wretch. Cried the tailor, to let such a good animal
hunger, and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the
yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do his duty
well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the
goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he
asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat answered,
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her into the stable, and
tied her up. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had her full
share of food. She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll
touch. The tailor was distrustful, went down and asked, goat,
have you had enough. The wicked beast answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
Oh, the brood of liars, cried the tailor, each as wicked and
forgetful of his duty as the other. You shall no longer make a
fool of me, and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs
and belabored the poor young fellow so vigorously with the
yard-measure that he sprang out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he
went down into the stable, stroked the goat and said, come, my
dear little animal, I myself will take you to feed. He took her
by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil
and whatever else goats like to eat. There you may for once eat to
your heart's content, said he to her, and let her browse till
evening. Then he asked, goat, are you satisfied. She replied.
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and
tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned round again and
said, well, are you satisfied for once. But the goat behaved no
better to him, and cried,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that
he had driven away his three sons without cause. Wait, you
ungrateful creature, cried he, it is not enough to drive you forth,
I will brand you so that you will no more dare to show yourself
amongst honest tailors. In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his
razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm
of his hand. And as the yard-measure would have been too good for
her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that
she bounded away with tremendous leaps.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into
great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no
one knew whither they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed
himself to a joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably,
and when the time came for him to go traveling, his master presented
him with a little table which was not particularly beautiful, and
was made of common wood, but which had one good property. If
anyone set it out, and said, little table, spread yourself, the good
little table was at once covered with a clean little cloth, and a
plate was there, and a knife and fork beside it, and dishes with
boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a
great glass of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad. The
young journeyman thought, with this you have enough for your
whole life, and went joyously about the world and never troubled
himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was
to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an
inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or
wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it
down before him, and said, spread yourself, and then everything
appeared that his heart desired. At length he took it into his head
to go back to his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and
who would now willingly receive him with his magic table. It came
to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an inn which
was filled with guests. They bade him welcome, and invited him to
sit and eat with them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in
getting anything. No, answered the joiner, I will not take the few
morsels out of
your mouths. Rather than that, you shall be my guests. They
laughed, and thought he was jesting with them. He but placed his
wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, little table,
spread yourself. Instantly it was covered with food, so good that
the host could never have procured it, and the smell of it
ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. Fall to, dear
friends, said the joiner, and the guests when they saw that he
meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out
their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the
most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took
its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and
watched the affair. He did not at all know what to say, but
thought, you could easily find a use for such a cook as that in your
household. The joiner and his comrades made merry until late
into the night. At length they lay down to sleep, and the young
apprentice also went to bed, and set his magic table against the
wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest. It
occurred to him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room
which looked just like the apprentice's and he brought it out,
and carefully exchanged it for the wishing table. Next morning
the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never thinking
that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he
reached his father, who received him with great joy. Well, my dear
son, what have you learnt. Said he to him. Father, I have become
a joiner.
A good trade, replied the old man, but what have you brought
back with you from your apprenticeship. Father, the best thing
which I have brought back with me is this little table. The
tailor inspected it on all sides and said, you did not make a
masterpiece when you made that. It is a bad old table. But it
is a table which furnishes itself, replied the son. When I set it
out, and tell it to spread itself, the most beautiful dishes stand
on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just invite all
our relations and friends, they shall refresh and enjoy themselves
for once, for the table will give them all they require. When the
company was assembled, he put his table in the middle of the room and
said, little table,
spread yourself, but the little table did not bestir itself, and
remained just as bare as any other table which does not understand
language. Then the poor apprentice became aware that his table
had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a
liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and were forced to go
home without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his
patches again, and went on tailoring, but the son went to a
master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself
to him. When his years were over, the master said, as you
have conducted yourself so well, I give you an ass of a peculiar
kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack. What good is
he, then. Asked the young apprentice. He spews forth gold, answered
the miller. If you set him on a cloth and say bricklebrit,
the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for you from back and
front. That is a fine thing, said the apprentice, and thanked the
master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold,
he had only to say bricklebrit to his ass, and it rained gold
pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground.
Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was good enough for
him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a full purse.
When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, you
must seek out your father. If you go to him with the gold-ass he
will forget his anger, and receive you well. It came to pass
that he came to the same inn in which his brother's table had been
exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was about
to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young
apprentice said, don't trouble yourself, I will take my grey
horse into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know
where he stands. This struck the host as odd, and he thought
that a man who was forced to look after his ass himself, could not
have much to spend. But when the stranger put his hand in his
pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he was to
provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes wide, and
ran and sought out the best he could muster. After dinner the
guest asked what he owed. The host did
not see why he should not double the reckoning, and said the
apprentice must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket,
but his gold was just at an end. Wait an instant, sir host, said
he, I will go and fetch some money. But he took the table-cloth
with him. The host could not imagine what this could mean, and
being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted the stable
door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot in the wood. The
stranger spread out the cloth under the animal and cried,
bricklebrit, and immediately the beast began to let gold pieces fall
from back and front, so that it fairly rained down money on the
ground. Eh, my word, said the host, ducats are quickly coined
there. A purse like that is not to be sniffed at. The guest
paid his score, and went to bed, but in the night the host stole
down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and tied up
another ass in his place.
Early next morning the apprentice traveled away with his ass,
and thought that he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his
father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in.
What have you made of yourself, my son. Asked the old man.
A miller, dear father, he answered. What have you brought back
with you from your travels. Nothing else but an ass. There are
asses enough here, said the father, I would rather have had a good
goat. Yes, replied the son, but it is no common ass, but a
gold-ass, when I say bricklebrit, the good beast spews forth a whole
sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our relations hither,
and I will make them rich folks. That suits me well, said the
tailor, for then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer
with the needle, and ran out himself and called the relations
together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade them
make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room.
Now watch, said he, and cried, bricklebrit, but what fell were not
gold pieces, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the
art, for every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor
miller pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged
pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There
was no help for it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once
more, and the youth hired himself to a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that
is skilled labor, he was the longest in learning. His brothers,
however, told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them,
and how the innkeeper had cheated them of ther beautiful
wishing-gifts on the last evening before they reached home. When
the turner had served his time, and had to set out on his travels,
as he had conducted himself so well, his master presented him with a
sack and said, there is a cudgel in it. I can put on the sack, said
he, and it may be of good service to me, but why should the cudgel
be in it. It only makes it heavy. I will tell you why, replied
the master. If anyone has done anything to injure you, do but say,
out of the sack, cudgel. And the cudgel will leap forth among the
people, and play such a dance on their backs that they will not be
able to stir or move for a week, and it will not leave off until
you say, into the sack, cudgel. The apprentice thanked him, and
put the sack on his back, and when anyone came too near him, and
wished to attack him, he said, out of the sack, cudgel, and
instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of
one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had
stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone
was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the
young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated.
He laid his sack on the table before him, and began to talk of all
the wonderful things which he had seen in the world. Yes, said
he, people may easily find a table which will spread itself, a
gold-ass, and things of that kind - extremely good things which
I by no means despise - but these are nothing in comparison with
the treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying about
with me in my sack there. The innkeeper pricked up his ears.
What in the world can that be. Thought he. The sack must be filled
with nothing but jewels. I ought to get them cheap too, for all
good things go in threes. When it was time for sleep, the guest
stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him
for a pillow. When the innkeeper thought his guest
was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled
quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly
draw it away and lay another in its place.
The turner, however, had been waiting for this for a long time, and
now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried,
out of the sack, cudgel. Instantly the little cudgel came forth,
and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing.
The host cried for mercy. But the louder he cried, the harder the
cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the
ground exhausted. Then the turner said, if you do not give back
the table which spreads itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall
begin afresh. Oh, no, cried the host, quite humbly, I will gladly
produce everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into
the sack. Then said the apprentice, I will let mercy take the
place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again. So he
cried, into the sack, cudgel. And let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the
wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw
him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign
parts. Dear father, said he, I have become a turner. A skilled
trade, said the father. What have you brought back with you from
your travels.
A precious thing, dear father, replied the son, a cudgel in the
sack.
What cried the father, a cudgel. That's certainly worth your
trouble. From every tree you can cut yourself one. But not one
like this, dear father. If I say, out of the sack, cudgel, the
cudgel springs out and leads anyone ill-disposed toward me a weary
dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for
fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I rescued the
wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish innkeeper took
away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for, and invite
all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will
fill their pockets with gold into the bargain. The old tailor
had not much confidence. Nevertheless he summoned the relatives
together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the
gold-ass, and said to his brother, now, dear brother, speak to him.
The miller said, bricklebrit, and instantly the gold pices rained
down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop
until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more.
- I can see by your face that you also would have liked to be
there. -
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, now dear
brother, speak to it. And scarcely had the carpenter said, table,
spread yourself, than it was spread and amply covered with the
most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good
tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole party of
kinsmen stayed together till far in the night, and were all merry
and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-measure
and goose, in a closet, and lived with his three sons in joy and
splendor.
What, however, happened to the goat who was to blame for the
tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell you. She
was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and
crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great
eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away.
A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said,
what is the matter with you, brother fox, why do you look like
that. Ah, answered redskin, a fierce beast is in my cave and stared
at me with its fiery eyes. We will soon drive him out, said
the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in, but when
he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise. He would have
nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The
bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she said,
bear, you are really pulling a very pitiful face. What has become
of all your gaiety. It is all very well for you to talk, replied
the bear, a furious beast with staring eyes is in redskin's house,
and we can't drive him out. The bee said, bear I pity you, I am
a poor weak creature whom you would not turn aside to look at, but
still, I believe, I can help you. She flew into the fox's cave,
lighted on the goat's smoothly-shorn head, and stung her so
violently, that she sprang up, crying meh, meh, and ran forth
into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she
has gone.
There were once upon a time a king and a queen who lived
happily together and had twelve children, but they were
all boys. Then said the king to his wife, if the thirteenth
child which you are about to bring into the world, is a girl, the
twelve boys shall die, in order that her possessions may be great,
and that the kingdom may fall to her alone. He even caused twelve
coffins to be made, which were already filled with shavings, and
in each lay a little death pillow, and he had them taken into a
locked-up room, and then he gave the queen the key of it, and bade
her not to speak of this to anyone.
The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day long, until
the youngest son, who was always with her, and whom she had
named benjamin, from the bible, said to her, dear mother, why
are you so sad.
Dearest child, she answered, I may not tell you. But he let
her have no rest until she went and unlocked the room, and showed
him the twelve coffins ready filled with shavings. Then she said,
my dearest benjamin, your father has had these coffins made for
you and for your eleven brothers, for if I bring a little girl into
the world, you are all to be killed and buried in them. And as she
wept while she was saying this, the son comforted her and said, weep
not, dear mother, we will save ourselves, and go hence. But she
said, go forth into the forest with your eleven brothers, and let
one sit constantly on the highest tree which can be found, and keep
watch, looking towards the tower here in the castle. If I give
birth to a little son, I will put up a white flag, and then you may
venture to come back. But if I bear a daughter, I will hoist a red
flag, and then fly hence as quickly as you are able, and may the
good God protect you. And every night I will rise up and pray for
you - in winter that you may be able to warm yourself at a fire, and
in summer that you may not faint away in the heat.
After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went forth into
the forest. They each kept watch in turn, and sat on the highest
oak and looked towards the tower. When eleven days had passed
and the turn came to benjamin, he saw that a flag was being raised.
It was, however, not the white, but the blood-red flag which
announced that they were all to die. When the brothers heard that,
they were very angry and said, are we all to suffer death for the
sake of a girl. We swear that we will avenge ourselves -
wheresoever we find a girl, her red blood shall flow.
Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the midst
of it, where it was the darkest, they found a little bewitched hut,
which was standing empty. Then said they, here we will dwell,
and you benjamin, who are the youngest and weakest, you shall
stay at home and keep house, we others will go out and fetch food.
Then they went into the forest and shot hares, wild deer, birds and
pigeons, and whatsoever there was to eat. This they took to
benjamin, who had to dress it for them in order that they might
appease their hunger. They lived together ten years in the little
hut, and the time did not appear long to them.
The little daughter which their mother the queen had given
birth to, was now grown up. She was good of heart, and fair of
face, and had a golden star on her forehead. Once, on a great
washing, she saw twelve men's shirts among the things, and asked her
mother, to whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are far
too small for father. Then the queen answered with a heavy
heart, dear child, these belong to your twelve brothers. Said the
maiden, where are my twelve brothers, I have never yet heard
of them. She replied, God knows where they are, they are
wandering about the world. Then she took the maiden and opened
the chamber for her, and showed her the twelve coffins with the
shavings, and the death pillows. These coffins, said she,
were destined for your brothers, who went away secretly before you
were born, and she related to her how everything had happened.
Then said the maiden, dear mother, weep not, I will go and seek
my brothers.
So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and straight into
the great forest. She walked the whole day, and in the evening she
came to the bewitched hut. Then she entered it and found a young
boy, who asked, from whence do you come, and whither are you
bound, and was astonished that she was so beautiful, and wore
royal garments, and had a star on her forehead. And she answered,
I am a king's daughter, and am seeking my twelve brothers, and
I will walk as far as the sky is blue until I find them. And she
showed him the twelve shirts which belonged to them. Then
benjamin saw that she was his sister, and said, I am benjamin, your
youngest brother. And she began to weep for joy, and benjamin
wept also, and they kissed and embraced each other with the
greatest love. But after this he said, dear sister, there is still
one difficulty. We have agreed that every maiden whom we meet
shall die, because we have been obliged to leave our kingdom on
account of a girl. Then said she, I will willingly die, if by so
doing I can save my twelve brothers.
No, answered he, you shall not die. Seat yourself beneath this
tub until our eleven brothers come, and then I will soon come to
an agreement with them.
She did so, and when it was night the others came from hunting,
and their dinner was ready. And as they were sitting at table, and
eating, they asked, what news is there. Said benjamin, don't
you know anything. No, they answered. He continued, you have
been in the forest and I have stayed at home, and yet I know
more than you do. Tell us then, they cried. He answered, but
promise me that the first maiden who meets us shall not be killed.
Yes, they all cried, she shall have mercy, only do tell us.
Then said he, our sister is here, and he lifted up the tub, and
the king's daughter came forth in her royal garments with the
golden star on her forehead, and she was beautiful, delicate and
fair. Then they were all rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and kissed
and loved her with all their hearts.
Now she stayed at home with benjamin and helped him with
the work. The eleven went into the forest and caught game, and
deer, and birds, and wood-pigeons that they might have food, and
the little sister and benjamin took care to make it ready for them.
She sought for the wood for cooking and herbs for vegetables, and
put the pans on the fire so that the dinner was always ready when
the eleven came. She likewise kept order in the little house, and
put beautifully white clean coverings on the little beds and the
brothers were always contented and lived in great harmony with her.
Once upon a time the two at home had prepared a wonderful
feast, and when they were all together, they sat down and ate and
drank and were full of gladness. There was, however, a little
garden belonging to the bewitched house wherein stood twelve lily
flowers, which are likewise called student-lilies. She wished to
give her brothers pleasure, and plucked the twelve flowers, and
thought she would present each brother with one while at dinner.
But at the self-same moment that she plucked the flowers the twelve
brothers were changed into twelve ravens, and flew away over the
forest, and the house and garden vanished likewise. And now the
poor maiden was alone in the wild forest, and when she looked
around, an old woman was standing near her who said, my child,
what have you done. Why did you not leave the twelve white
flowers growing. They were your brothers, who are now forevermore
changed into ravens. The maiden said, weeping, is there no way of
saving them.
No, said the woman, there is but one in the whole world, and
that is so hard that you will not save them by it, for you must be
dumb for seven years, and may not speak or laugh, and if you speak
one single word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all
is in vain, and your brothers will be killed by the one word.
Then said the maiden in her heart, I know with certainty that
I shall set my brothers free, and went and sought a high tree and
seated herself in it and spun, and neither spoke nor laughed. Now
it so happened that a king was hunting in the forest, who had a
great greyhound which ran to the tree on which the maiden was
sitting, and sprang about it, whining, and barking at her. Then
the king came by and saw the beautiful king's daughter with the
golden star on her brow, and was so charmed with her beauty that
he called to ask her if she would be his wife. She made no answer,
but nodded a little with her head. So he climbed up the tree
himself, carried her down, placed her on his horse, and bore her
home. Then the wedding was solemnized with great magnificence and
rejoicing, but the bride neither spoke nor smiled. When they had
lived happily together for a few years, the king's mother, who was
a wicked woman, began to slander the young queen, and said to
the king, this is a common beggar girl whom you have brought
back with you. Who knows what wicked tricks she practises secretly.
Even if she be dumb, and not able to speak, she still might
laugh for once. But those who do not laugh have bad consciences.
At first the king would not believe it, but the old woman urged this
so long, and accused her of so many evil things, that at last the
king let himself be persuaded and sentenced her to death.
And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in which she
was to be burnt, and the king stood above at the window and
looked on with tearful eyes, because he still loved her so much.
And when she was bound fast to the stake, and the fire was licking
at her clothes with its red tongue, the last instant of the seven
years expired. Then a whirring sound was heard in the air, and
twelve ravens came flying towards the place, and sank downwards, and
when they touched the earth they were her twelve brothers, whom
she had saved. They tore the fire asunder, extinguished the flames,
set their dear sister free, and kissed and embraced her. And now
as she dared to open her mouth and speak, she told the king why she
had been dumb, and had never laughed. The king rejoiced when
he heard that she was innocent, and they all lived in great unity
until their death. The wicked step-mother was taken before the
judge, and put into a barrel filled with boiling oil and venomous
snakes, and died an evil death.
Seven swabians were once together. The first was master
schulz, the second, jackli, the third, marli, the fourth,
jergli, the fifth, michal, the sixth, Hans, the seventh,
veitli. All seven had made up their minds to travel
about the world to seek adventures and perform great
deeds. But in order that they might go in safety and with
arms in their hands, they thought it would be advisable
that they should have one solitary, but very strong,
and very long spear made for them. This spear all seven of
them took in their hands at once. In front walked the
boldest and bravest,
and that was master schulz. All the others followed in a
row, and veitli was the last. Then it came to pass one
day in the hay month, when they had walked a long distance,
and still had a long way to go before they reached the
village where they were to pass the night, that as they
were in a meadow in the twilight a great beetle or hornet
flew by them from behind a bush, and hummed in a menacing
manner. Master schulz was so terrified that he all but dropped
the spear, and a cold sweat broke out over his whole body.
Hark, hark, cried he to his comrades, good heavens. I hear a
drum. Jackli, who was behind him holding the spear, and into
whose nose some smell had risen, said, something is most
certainly going on, for I smell the powder and the match. At
these words master schulz began to take to flight, and in a
trice jumped
over a hedge, but as he just happened to jump on to the teeth of
a rake which had been left lying there after the hay-making, the
handle of it struck against his face and gave him a tremendous
blow. O dear. O dear, screamed master schulz. Take me
prisoner, I surrender, I surrender. The other six all leapt
over, one on the top of the other, crying, if you surrender, I
surrender too. If you surrender, I surrender too. At length,
as no enemy was there to bind and take them away, they saw that
they had been mistaken, and in order that the story might not
be known, and they be treated as fools and ridiculed, they
all swore to each other to hold their peace about it until one
of them should speak of it by mistake.
Then they journeyed onwards. The second danger which they
survived cannot be compared with the first. Some days afterwards,
their path led them through a fallow-field where a hare was sitting
sleeping in the sun. Her ears were standing straight up, and her
great glassy eyes were wide open. All of them were alarmed at
the sight of the horrible wild beast, and they consulted together
as to what it would be the least dangerous to do. For if they
were to run away, they knew that the monster would pursue and
swallow them whole. So they said, we must go through a great
and dangerous struggle. Boldly ventured, is half won, and all
seven grasped the spear, master schulz in front, and veitli
behind. Master schulz was always trying to keep the spear
back, but veitli had become quite brave while behind, and wanted
to dash forward and cried,
strike home, in every swabian's name,
or else I wish you may be lame.
But Hans knew how to meet this, and said,
thunder and lightning, it's fine to prate,
but for dragon-hunting you are always late.
Michal cried,
nothing is missing, not even a hair,
be sure the devil himself is there.
Then it was jergli's turn, and he said,
if it be not he, it's at least his mother,
or else the devil's own step-brother.
And now marli had a bright thought, and said to veitli,
advance, veitli, advance, advance,
and I behind will hold the lance.
Veitli, however, did not obey, and jackli said,
tis schulz's place the first to be,
no one deserves that honor but he.
Then master schulz plucked up his courage, and said, gravely,
then let us boldly advance to the fight,
thus we shall show our valor and might.
Hereupon they all together set on the dragon. Master
schulz crossed himself and prayed for God's assistance, but
as all this was of no avail, and he was getting nearer and nearer
to the enemy, he screamed, oho, oho, ho, ho, ho, in the greatest
anguish. This awakened the hare, which in great alarm darted
swiftly away. When master schulz saw her thus flying from the
field of battle, he cried in his joy,
quick, veitli, quick, look there, look there,
the monster's nothing but a hare.
But the swabian allies went in search of further adventures, and
came to the moselle, a mossy, quiet, deep river, over which there are
few bridges, and which in many places people have to cross in
boats. As the seven swabians did not know this, they called
to a man who was working on the opposite side of the river, to
know how people contrived to get across. The distance and their
way of speaking made the man unable to understand what they
wanted, and he said, what, what, in the way people speak in
the neighborhood of treves. Master schulz thought he was saying,
wade, wade through the water, and as he was the first, began
to set out and
went into the moselle. It was not long before he sank in the
mud and the deep waves which drove against him, but his hat was
blown on the opposite shore by the wind, and a frog sat down
beside it, and croaked, wat, wat, wat. The other six on the
opposite side heard that, and said, oho, comrades, master
schulz is calling us. If he can wade across, why cannot we.
So they all jumped into the water together in a great hurry, and
were drowned, and thus one frog took the lives of all six of
them, and not one of the swabian allies ever reached home again.
There was once on a time a soldier who for many years had served the
king faithfully, but when the war came to an end could serve no
longer because of the many wounds which he had received. The king
said to him, "You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and
you will not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who
renders me serve for them." Then the soldier did not know how to earn
a living, went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until
in the evening he entered a forest. When darkness came on, he saw a
light, which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a
witch. "Do give me one night's lodging, and a little to eat and
drink," said he to her, "or I shall starve." "Oho," she answered,
"who gives anything to a run-away soldier? Yet will I be
compassionate, and take you in, if you will do what I wish." "What do
you wish?" said the soldier. "That you should dig all round my
garden for me, tomorrow." The soldier consented, and next day labored
with all his strength, but could not finish it by the evening. "I
see well enough," said the witch, "that you can do no more today, but
I will keep you yet another night, in payment for which you must
tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small." The soldier
spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch
proposed that he should stay one night more. "Tomorrow, you shall
only do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind my house, there is
an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and
never goes out, and you shall bring it up again."
Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a
basket. He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him
up again. She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she
stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from
him. "No," said he, perceiving her evil intention, "I will not give
you the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground."
The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the well, and
went away.
The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the
blue light went on burning, but of what use was that to him. He saw
very well that he could not escape death. He sat for a while very
sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his
tobacco pipe, which was still half full. "This shall be my last
pleasure," thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and
began to smoke. When the smoke had circled about the cavern,
suddenly a little black dwarf stood before him, and said, "Lord, what
are your commands?" "What my commands are?" replied the soldier,
quite astonished. "I must do everything you bid me," said the little
man. "Good," said the soldier, "then in the first place help me out
of this well." The little man took him by the hand, and led him
through an underground passage, but he did not forget to take the
blue light with him. On the way the dwarf showed him the treasures
which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took
as much gold as he could carry. When he was above, he said to the
little man, "Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before the
judge."
In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild tom-cat
and screaming frightfully. Nor was it long before the little man
re-appeared. "It is all done," said he, "and the witch is already
hanging on the gallows. What further commands has my lord," inquired
the dwarf. "At this moment, none," answered the soldier, "You can
return home, only be at hand immediately, if I summon you." "Nothing
more is needed than that you should light your pipe at the blue
light, and I will appear before you at once." Thereupon he vanished
from his sight.
The soldier returned to the town from which he had come. He went to
the best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the
landlord furnish him a room as handsome as possible. When it was
ready and the soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the
little black mannikin and said, "I have served the king faithfully,
but he has dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to
take my revenge." "What am I to do?" asked the little man. "Late at
night, when the king's daughter is in bed, bring her here in her
sleep, she shall do servant's work for me." The mannikin said, "That
is an easy thing for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you,
for if it is discovered, you will fare ill." When twelve o'clock had
struck, the door sprang open, and the mannikin carried in the
princess. "Aha, are you there?" cried the soldier, "Get to your work
at once. Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber." When she had done
this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he stretched out
his feet and said, "Pull off my boots," and then he threw them in her
face, and made her pick them up again, and clean and brighten them.
She, however, did everything he bade her, without opposition,
silently and with half-shut eyes. When the first cock crowed, the
mannikin carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her in her
bed.
Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told
him that she had had a very strange dream. "I was carried through
the streets with the rapidity of lightning," said she, "and taken
into a soldier's room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant,
sweep his room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It
was only a dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done
everything." "The dream may have been true," said the king, "I will
give you a piece of advice. Fill your pocket full of peas, and make
a small hole in the pocket, and then if you are carried away again,
they will fall out and leave a track in the streets." But unseen by
the king, the mannikin was standing beside him when he said that, and
heard all. At night when the sleeping princess was again carried
through the streets, some peas certainly did fall out of her pocket,
but they made no track, for the crafty mannikin had just before
scattered peas in every street there was. And again the princess was
compelled to do servant's work until cock-crow.
Next morning the king sent his people out to seek the track, but it
was all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting,
picking up peas, and saying, "It must have rained peas, last night."
"We must think of something else," said the king, "keep your shoes on
when you go to bed, and before you come back from the place where you
are taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it."
The black mannikin heard this plot, and at night when the soldier
again ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told
him that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and
that if the shoe were found in the soldier's house it would go badly
with him. "Do what I bid you," replied the soldier, and again this
third night the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but
before she went away, she hid her shoe under the bed.
Next morning the king had the entire town searched for his daughter's
shoe. It was found at the soldier's, and the soldier himself, who at
the entreaty of the dwarf had gone outside the gate, was soon brought
back, and thrown into prison. In his flight he had forgotten the
most valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had
only one ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was
standing at the window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of
his comrades passing by. The soldier tapped at the pane of glass,
and when this man came up, said to him, "Be so kind as to fetch me
that small bundle I have lying in the inn, and I will give you a
ducat for doing it."
His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted. As soon as
the soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the
black mannikin. "Have no fear," said the latter to his master. "Go
wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take
the blue light with you." Next day the soldier was tried, and though
he had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death. When
he was led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the king. "What
is it?" asked the king. "That I may smoke one more pipe on my way."
"You may smoke three," answered the king, "but do not imagine that I
will spare your life." Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and
lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke
had ascended, the mannikin was there with a small cudgel in his hand,
and said, "What does my lord command?" "Strike down to earth that
false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the king who has
treated me so ill." Then the mannikin fell on them like lightning,
darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched
by his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again. The
king was terrified, he threw himself on the soldier's mercy, and
merely to be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his
own, and his daughter to wife.
A certain man had a donkey, which had carried the corn-sacks
to the mill indefatigably for many a long year. But his
strength was going, and he was growing more and more unfit
for work. Then his master began to consider how he might
best save his keep. But the donkey, seeing that no good wind
was blowing, ran away and set out on the road to bremen. There,
he thought, I can surely be a town-musician. When he had walked
some distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping like
one who had run till he was tired. What are you gasping so for,
you big fellow, asked the donkey.
Ah, replied the hound, as I am old, and daily grow weaker, and
no longer can hunt, my master wanted to kill me, so I took to
flight, but now how am I to earn my bread.
I tell you what, said the donkey, I am going to bremen, and
shall be town-musician there. Go with me and engage yourself
also as a musician. I will play the lute, and you shall beat
the kettle-drum.
The hound agreed, and on they went.
Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path, with a face
like three rainy days. Now then, old shaver, what has gone
askew with you, asked the donkey.
Who can be merry when his neck is in danger, answered the cat.
Because I am now getting old, and my teeth are worn to
stumps, and I prefer to sit by the fire and spin, rather than
hunt about after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me, so I
ran away. But now good advice is scarce. Where am I to go.
Go with us to bremen. You understand night-music, you
can be a town-musician.
The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After this the
three fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the cock was sitting
upon the gate, crowing with all his might. Your crow goes
through and through one, said the donkey. What is the matter.
I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the day on
which our lady washes the christ-child's little shirts, and
wants to dry them, said the cock. But guests are coming for
sunday, so the housewife has no pity, and has told the cook that
she intends to eat me in the soup to-morrow, and this evening
I am to have my head cut off. Now I am crowing at the top of
my lungs while still I can.
Ah, but red-comb, said the donkey, you had better come away
with us. We are going to bremen. You can find something better
than death everywhere. You have a good voice, and if we make
music together it must have some quality.
The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on together.
They could not reach the city of bremen in one day, however,
and in the evening they came to a forest where they meant to
pass the night. The donkey and the hound laid themselves down
under a large tree, the cat and the cock settled themselves in
the branches. But the cock flew right to the top, where he was
most safe. Before he went to sleep he looked round on all four
sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark burning.
So he called out to his companions that there must be a house
not far off, for he saw a light. The donkey said, if so, we
had better get up and go on, for the shelter here is bad. The
hound thought too that a few bones with some meat on would do
him good.
So they made their way to the place where the light was, and
soon saw it shine brighter and grow larger, until they came to
a well-lighted robbers, house. The donkey, as the biggest, went
to the window and looked in.
What do you see, my grey-horse, asked the cock. What do I
see, answered the donkey. A table covered with good things to
eat and drink, and robbers sitting at it enjoying themselves.
That would be the sort of thing for us, said the cock. Yes,
yes. Ah, if only we were there, said the donkey.
Then the animals took counsel together how they should manage
to drive away the robbers, and at last they thought of a plan.
The donkey was to place himself with his fore-feet upon the
window-ledge, the hound was to jump on the donkey's back, the
cat was to climb upon the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly
up and perch upon the head of the cat.
When this was done, at a given signal, they began to perform
their music together. The donkey brayed, the hound barked,
the cat mewed, and the cock crowed. Then they burst through the
window into the room, shattering the glass. At this horrible din,
the robbers sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost
had come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest. The
four companions now sat down at the table, well content with
what was left, and ate as if they were going to fast for a
month.
As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out the light,
and each sought for himself a sleeping-place according to his
nature and what suited him. The donkey laid himself down upon
some straw in the yard, the hound behind the door, the cat upon
the hearth near the warm ashes, and the cock perched himself
upon a beam of the roof. And being tired from their long walk,
they soon went to sleep.
When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from afar that
the light was no longer burning in their house, and all appeared
quiet, the captain said, we ought not to have let ourselves
be frightened out of our wits, and ordered one of them to go
and examine the house.
The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen to light
a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of the cat for
live coals, he held a lucifer-match to them to light it. But
the cat did not understand the joke, and flew in his face, spitting
and scratching. He was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the
back-door, but the dog, who lay there sprang up and bit his
leg. And as he ran across the yard by the dunghill, the donkey
gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The cock, too, who had
been awakened by the noise, and had become lively, cried down
from the beam, cock-a-doodle-doo.
Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his captain, and
said, ah, there is a horrible witch sitting in the house, who
spat on me and scratched my face with her long claws. And by
the door stands a man with a knife, who stabbed me in the leg.
And in the yard there lies a black monster, who beat me with
a wooden club. And above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who
called out, bring the rogue here to me. So I got away as well
as I could.
After this the robbers never again dared enter the house.
But it suited the four musicians of bremen so well that they
did not care to leave it any more. And the mouth of him who
last told this story is still warm.
Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, since
our mother died we have had no happiness. Our step-mother
beats us every day, and if we come near her she kicks us away
with her foot. Our meals are the hard crusts of bread that are left
over. And the little dog under the table is better off, for she
often throws it a choice morsel. God pity us, if our mother only
knew. Come, we will go forth together into the wide world.
They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and stony
places. And when it rained the little sister said, heaven and our
hearts are weeping together. In the evening they came to a large
forest, and they were so weary with sorrow and hunger and the
long walk, that they lay down in a hollow tree and fell asleep.
The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high in the
sky, and shone down hot into the tree. Then the brother said,
sister, I am thirsty. If I knew of a little brook I would go and
just take a drink. I think I hear one running. The brother got up
and took the little sister by the hand, and they set off to find
the brook. But the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen how
the two children had gone away, and had crept after them secretly,
as witches creep, and had bewitched all the brooks in the forest.
Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly over the
stones, the brother was going to drink out of it, but the sister
heard how it said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a tiger.
Who drinks of me will be a tiger. Then the sister cried, pray,
dear brother, do not drink, or you will become a wild beast, and
tear me to pieces. The brother did not drink, although he was so
thirsty, but said, I will wait for the next spring.
When they came to the next brook the sister heard this also say,
who drinks of me will be a wolf. Who drinks of me will be a wolf.
Then the sister cried out, pray, dear brother, do not drink,
or you will become a wolf, and devour me. The brother did not
drink, and said, I will wait until we come to the next spring, but
then I must drink, say what you like. For my thirst is too great.
And when they came to the third brook the sister heard how it
said as it ran, who drinks of me will be a roebuck. Who drinks
of me will be a roebuck. The sister said, oh, I pray you, dear
brother, do not drink, or you will become a roebuck, and run away
from me. But the brother had knelt down at once by the brook,
and had bent down and drunk some of the water, and as soon as
the first drops touched his lips he lay there in the form of a
young roebuck.
And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched brother, and
the little roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully near to her. But at
last the girl said, be quiet, dear little roe, I will never,
never leave you.
Then she untied her golden garter and put it round the roebuck's
neck, and she plucked rushes and wove them into a soft cord. This
she tied to the little animal and led it on, and she walked deeper
and deeper into the forest.
And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a
little house, and the girl looked in. And as it was empty, she
thought, we can stay here and live. Then she sought for leaves
and moss to make a soft bed for the roe. And every morning she
went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself, and
brought tender grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand, and was
content and played round about her. In the evening, when the sister
was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head upon the
roebuck's back - that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it.
And if only the brother had had his human form it would have been a
delightful life.
For some time they were alone like this in the wilderness. But
it happened that the king of the country held a great hunt in the
forest. Then the blasts of the horns, the barking of dogs and the
merry shouts of the huntsmen rang through the trees, and the roebuck
heard all, and was only too anxious to be there. Oh, said he,
to his sister, let me be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any
longer, and he begged so much that at last she agreed. But, said
she to him, come back to me in the evening. I must shut my door for
fear of the rough huntsmen, so knock and say, my little sister,
let me in, that I may know you. And if you do not say that, I
shall not open the door. Then the young roebuck sprang away. So
happy was he and so merry in the open air.
The king and the huntsmen saw the lovely animal, and started
after him, but they could not catch him, and when they thought
that they surely had him, away he sprang through the bushes and
vanished. When it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and
said, my little sister, let me in. Then the door was opened for
him, and he jumped in, and rested himself the whole night through
upon his soft bed.
The next day the hunt began again, and when the roebuck once
more heard the bugle-horn, and the ho. Ho. Of the huntsmen, he
had no peace, but said, sister, let me out, I must be off. His
sister opened the door for him, and said, but you must be here again
in the evening and say your pass-word.
When the king and his huntsmen again saw the young roebuck
with the golden collar, they all chased him, but he was too quick
and nimble for them. This lasted the whole day, but by the evening
the huntsmen had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him
a little in the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then a
hunter crept after him to the cottage and heard how he said, my
little sister, let me in, and saw that the door was opened for him,
and was shut again at once. The huntsman took notice of it all, and
went to the king and told him what he had seen and heard. Then
the king said, to-morrow we will hunt once more.
The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened when she
saw that her fawn was hurt. She washed the blood off him, laid
herbs on the wound, and said, go to your bed, dear roe, that you
may get well again. But the wound was so slight that the roebuck,
next morning, did not feel it any more. And when he again heard
the sport outside, he said, I cannot bear it, I must be there.
They shall not find it so easy to catch me. The sister cried, and
said, this time they will kill you, and here am I alone in the
forest and forsaken by all the world. I will not let you out. Then
you will have me die of grief, answered the roe. When I hear the
bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of my skin. Then the
sister could not do otherwise, but opened the door for him with a
heavy heart, and the roebuck, full of health and joy, bounded into
the forest.
When the king saw him, he said to his huntsmen, now chase
him all day long till night-fall, but take care that no one does him
any harm.
As soon as the sun had set, the king said to the huntsman, now
come and show me the cottage in the wood. And when he was at
the door, he knocked and called out, dear little sister, let me in.
Then the door opened, and the king walked in, and there stood
a maiden more lovely than any he had ever seen. The maiden was
frightened when she saw, not her little roe, but a man come in who
wore a golden crown upon his head. But the king looked kindly
at her, stretched out his hand, and said, will you go with me to
my palace and be my dear wife. Yes, indeed, answered the
maiden, but the little roe must go with me, I cannot leave him.
The king said, it shall stay with you as long as you live, and
shall want nothing. Just then he came running in, and the sister
again tied him with the cord of rushes, took it in her own hand, and
went away with the king from the cottage.
The king took the lovely maiden upon his horse and carried
her to his palace, where the wedding was held with great pomp.
She was now the queen, and they lived for a long time happily
together. The roebuck was tended and cherished, and ran about in
the palace-garden.
But the wicked step-mother, because of whom the children had
gone out into the world, had never thought but that the sister had
been torn to pieces by the wild beasts in the wood, and that the
brother had been shot for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when
she heard that they were so happy, and so well off, envy and
jealousy rose in her heart and left her no peace, and she thought of
nothing but how she could bring them again to misfortune. Her own
daughter, who was ugly as night, and had only one eye, reproached
her and said, a queen. That ought to have been my luck. Just be
quiet, answered the old woman, and comforted her by saying,
when the time comes I shall be ready.
As time went on the queen had a pretty little boy, and it
happened that the king was out hunting. So the old witch took the
form of the chamber maid, went into the room where the queen
lay, and said to her, come the bath is ready. It will do you good,
and give you fresh strength. Make haste before it gets cold.
Her daughter also was close by. So they carried the weakly
queen into the bath-room, and put her into the bath. Then they
shut the door and ran away. But in the bath-room they had made
a fire of such hellish heat that the beautiful young queen was soon
suffocated.
When this was done the old woman took her daughter, put a
nightcap on her head, and laid her in bed in place of the queen.
She gave her too the shape and look of the queen, only she
could not make good the lost eye. But in order that the king might
not see it, she was to lie on the side on which she had no eye.
In the evening when he came home and heard that he had a son
he was heartily glad, and was going to the bed of his dear wife to
see how she was. But the old woman quickly called out, for your
life leave the curtains closed. The queen ought not to see the
light yet, and must have rest. The king went away, and did not find
out that a false queen was lying in the bed.
But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was sitting in the
nursery by the cradle, and who was the only person awake, saw
the door open and the true queen walk in. She took the child out
of the cradle, laid it on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook
up its pillow, laid the child down again, and covered it with the
little quilt. And she did not forget the roebuck, but went into the
corner where it lay, and stroked its back. Then she went quite
silently out of the door again. The next morning the nurse asked
the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during the night,
but they answered, no, we have seen no one.
She came thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse
always saw her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it.
When some time had passed in this manner, the queen began to
speak in the night, and said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
Twice shall I come, then never more.
The nurse did not answer, but when the queen had gone again,
went to the king and told him all. The king said, ah, God.
What is this. To-morrow night I will watch by the child. In the
evening he went into the nursery, and at midnight the queen again
appeared and said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
Once will I come, then never more.
And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before she
disappeared. The king dared not speak to her, but on the next
night he watched again. Then she said,
how fares my child, how fares my roe.
This time I come, then never more.
Then the king could not restrain himself. He sprang towards her,
and said, you can be none other than my dear wife. She answered,
yes, I am your dear wife, and at the same moment she received
life again, and by God's grace became fresh, rosy and full of
health.
Then she told the king the evil deed which the wicked witch
and her daughter had been guilty of towards her. The king ordered
both to be led before the judge, and the judgment was delivered
against them. The daughter was taken into the forest where she was
torn to pieces by wild beasts, but the witch was cast into the fire
and miserably burnt. And as soon as she was burnt to ashes, the
roebuck changed his shape, and received his human form again, so the
sister and brother lived happily together all their lives.
Cinderella
The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her end
was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and
said, dear child, be good and pious, and then the
good God will always protect you, and I will look down on you
from heaven and be near you. Thereupon she closed her eyes and
departed. Every day the maiden went out to her mother's grave,
and wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter came
the snow spread a white sheet over the grave, and by the time the
spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken another wife.
The woman had brought with her into the house two daughters,
who were beautiful and fair of face, but vile and black of heart.
Now began a bad time for the poor step-child. Is the stupid goose
to sit in the parlor with us, they said. He who wants to eat bread
must earn it. Out with the kitchen-wench. They took her pretty
clothes away from her, put an old grey bedgown on her, and gave
her wooden shoes. Just look at the proud princess, how decked
out she is, they cried, and laughed, and led her into the kitchen.
There she had to do hard work from morning till night, get up
before daybreak, carry water, light fires, cook and wash. Besides
this, the sisters did her every imaginable injury - they mocked her
and emptied her peas and lentils into the ashes, so that she was
forced to sit and pick them out again. In the evening when she had
worked till she was weary she had no bed to go to, but had to sleep
by the hearth in the cinders. And as on that account she always
looked dusty and dirty, they called her cinderella.
It happened that the father was once going to the fair, and he
asked his two step-daughters what he should bring back for them.
Beautiful dresses, said one, pearls and jewels, said the second.
And you, cinderella, said he, what will you have. Father
break off for me the first branch which knocks against your hat on
your way home. So he bought beautiful dresses, pearls and jewels
for his two step-daughters, and on his way home, as he was riding
through a green thicket, a hazel twig brushed against him and
knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the branch and took it with
him. When he reached home he gave his step-daughters the things
which they had wished for, and to cinderella he gave the branch
from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him, went to her mother's
grave and planted the branch on it, and wept so much that the tears
fell down on it and watered it. And it grew and became a handsome
tree. Thrice a day cinderella went and sat beneath it, and wept and
prayed, and a little white bird always came on the tree, and if
cinderella expressed a wish, the bird threw down to her what she
had wished for.
It happened, however, that the king gave orders for a festival
which was to last three days, and to which all the beautiful young
girls in the country were invited, in order that his son might choose
himself a bride. When the two step-sisters heard that they too were
to appear among the number, they were delighted, called cinderella
and said, comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten our
buckles, for we are going to the wedding at the king's palace.
Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because she too would have liked to
go with them to the dance, and begged her step-mother to allow
her to do so. You go, cinderella, said she, covered in dust and
dirt as you are, and would go to the festival. You have no clothes
and shoes, and yet would dance. As, however, cinderella went on
asking, the step-mother said at last, I have emptied a dish of
lentils into the ashes for you, if you have picked them out again in
two hours, you shall go with us. The maiden went through the
back-door into the garden, and called, you tame pigeons, you
turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me
to pick
the good into the pot,
the bad into the crop.
Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen window, and
afterwards the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds beneath the
sky, came whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the ashes.
And the pigeons nodded with their heads and began pick, pick,
pick, pick, and the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and
gathered all the good grains into the dish. Hardly had one hour
passed before they had finished, and all flew out again. Then the
girl took the dish to her step-mother, and was glad, and believed
that now she would be allowed to go with them to the festival.
But the step-mother said, no, cinderella, you have no clothes and
you can not dance. You would only be laughed at. And as
cinderella wept at this, the step-mother said, if you can pick two
dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me in one hour, you shall go
with us. And she thought to herself, that she most certainly
cannot do again. When the step-mother had emptied the two
dishes of lentils amongst the ashes, the maiden went through the
back-door into the garden and cried, you tame pigeons, you
turtle-doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me
to pick
the good into the pot,
the bad into the crop.
Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window, and
afterwards the turtle-doves, and at length all the birds beneath the
sky, came whirring and crowding in, and alighted amongst the
ashes. And the doves nodded with their heads and began pick,
pick, pick, pick, and the others began also pick, pick, pick, pick,
and gathered all the good seeds into the dishes, and before half an
hour was over they had already finished, and all flew out again.
Then the maiden was delighted, and believed that she might now go
with them to the wedding. But the step-mother said, all this will
not help. You cannot go with us, for you have no clothes and can
not dance. We should be ashamed of you. On this she turned her
back on cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud daughters.
As no one was now at home, cinderella went to her mother's
grave beneath the hazel-tree, and cried -
shiver and quiver, little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and
slippers embroidered with silk and silver. She put on the dress
with all speed, and went to the wedding. Her step-sisters and the
step-mother however did not know her, and thought she must be a
foreign princess, for she looked so beautiful in the golden dress.
They never once thought of cinderella, and believed that she was
sitting at home in the dirt, picking lentils out of the ashes. The
prince approached her, took her by the hand and danced with her.
He would dance with no other maiden, and never let loose of her
hand, and if any one else came to invite her, he said, this is my
partner.
She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to go home.
But the king's son said, I will go with you and bear you company,
for he wished to see to whom the beautiful maiden belonged.
She escaped from him, however, and sprang into the
pigeon-house. The king's son waited until her father came, and
then he told him that the unknown maiden had leapt into the
pigeon-house. The old man thought, can it be cinderella. And
they had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he might hew
the pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it. And when they
got home cinderella lay in her dirty clothes among the ashes, and
a dim little oil-lamp was burning on the mantle-piece, for
cinderella had jumped quickly down from the back of the pigeon-house
and had run to the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken off
her beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had
taken them away again, and then she had seated herself in the
kitchen amongst the ashes in her grey gown.
Next day when the festival began afresh, and her parents and
the step-sisters had gone once more, cinderella went to the
hazel-tree and said -
shiver and quiver, my little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful dress than on
the preceding day. And when cinderella appeared at the wedding
in this dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The king's
son had waited until she came, and instantly took her by the hand
and danced with no one but her. When others came and invited
her, he said, this is my partner. When evening came she wished
to leave, and the king's son followed her and wanted to see into
which house she went. But she sprang away from him, and into
the garden behind the house. Therein stood a beautiful tall tree on
which hung the most magnificent pears. She clambered so nimbly
between the branches like a squirrel that the king's son did not
know where she was gone. He waited until her father came, and
said to him, the unknown maiden has escaped from me, and I
believe she has climbed up the pear-tree. The father thought,
can it be cinderella. And had an axe brought and cut the
tree down, but no one was on it. And when they got into the
kitchen, cinderella lay there among the ashes, as usual, for she
had jumped down on the other side of the tree, had taken the
beautiful dress to the bird on the little hazel-tree, and put on her
grey gown.
On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away,
cinderella went once more to her mother's grave and said to the
little tree -
shiver and quiver, my little tree,
silver and gold throw down over me.
And now the bird threw down to her a dress which was more
splendid and magnificent than any she had yet had, and the
slippers were golden. And when she went to the festival in the
dress, no one knew how to speak for astonishment. The king's son
danced with her only, and if any one invited her to dance, he said
this is my partner.
When evening came, cinderella wished to leave, and the king's
son was anxious to go with her, but she escaped from him so quickly
that he could not follow her. The king's son, however, had
employed a ruse, and had caused the whole staircase to be smeared
with pitch, and there, when she ran down, had the maiden's left
slipper remained stuck. The king's son picked it up, and it was
small and dainty, and all golden. Next morning, he went with it to
the father, and said to him, no one shall be my wife but she whose
foot this golden slipper fits. Then were the two sisters glad,
for they had pretty feet. The eldest went with the shoe into her
room and wanted to try it on, and her mother stood by. But she
could not get her big toe into it, and the shoe was too small for
her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, cut the toe off,
when you are queen you will have no more need to go on foot. The
maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the shoe, swallowed
the pain, and went out to the king's son. Then he took her on his
his horse as his bride and rode away with her. They were
obliged, however, to pass the grave, and there, on the hazel-tree,
sat the two pigeons and cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
there's blood within the shoe,
the shoe it is too small for her,
the true bride waits for you.
Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was trickling
from it. He turned his horse round and took the false bride
home again, and said she was not the true one, and that the
other sister was to put the shoe on. Then this one went into her
chamber and got her toes safely into the shoe, but her heel was
too large. So her mother gave her a knife and said, cut a bit
off your heel, when you are queen you will have no more need
to go on foot. The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced
her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the
king's son. He took her on his horse as his bride, and rode away
with her, but when they passed by the hazel-tree, the two pigeons
sat on it and cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
there's blood within the shoe,
the shoe it is too small for her,
the true bride waits for you.
He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running
out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white stocking quite
red. Then he turned his horse and took the false bride home
again. This also is not the right one, said he, have you no
other daughter. No, said the man, there is still a little
stunted kitchen-wench which my late wife left behind her, but
she cannot possibly be the bride. The king's son said he was
to send her up to him, but the mother answered, oh, no, she is
much too dirty, she cannot show herself. But he absolutely
insisted on it, and cinderella had to be called. She first
washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down
before the king's son, who gave her the golden shoe. Then she
seated herself on a stool, drew her foot out of the heavy
wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted like a
glove. And when she rose up and the king's son looked at her
face he recognized the beautiful maiden who had danced with
him and cried, that is the true bride. The step-mother and
the two sisters were horrified and became pale with rage, he,
however, took cinderella on his horse and rode away with her. As
they passed by the hazel-tree, the two white doves cried -
turn and peep, turn and peep,
no blood is in the shoe,
the shoe is not too small for her,
the true bride rides with you,
and when they had cried that, the two came flying down and
placed themselves on cinderella's shoulders, one on the right,
the other on the left, and remained sitting there.
When the wedding with the king's son was to be celebrated, the
two false sisters came and wanted to get into favor with
cinderella and share her good fortune. When the betrothed
couple went to church, the elder was at the right side and the
younger at the left, and the pigeons pecked out one eye from
each of them. Afterwards as they came back the elder was at
the left, and the younger at the right, and then the pigeons
pecked out the other eye from each. And thus, for their
wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness
all their days.
There was once a man who had a daughter who was called clever
elsie. And when she had grown up her father said, we will get
her married. Yes, said the mother, if only someone would come who
would have her. At length a man came from a distance and wooed
her, who was called Hans, but he stipulated that clever elsie
should be really smart. Oh, said the father, she has plenty of
good sense. And the mother said, oh, she can see the wind coming
up the street, and hear the flies coughing.
Well, said Hans, if she is not really smart, I won't have her.
When they were sitting at dinner and had eaten, the mother said,
elsie, go into the cellar and fetch some beer. Then clever elsie
took the pitcher from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped
the lid briskly as she went, so that the time might not appear
long. When she was below she fetched herself a chair, and set
it before the barrel so that she had no need to stoop, and did
not hurt her back or do herself any unexpected injury. Then she
placed the can before her, and turned the tap, and while the
beer was running she would not let her eyes be idle, but looked
up at the wall, and after much peering here and there, saw a
pick-axe exactly above her, which the masons had accidentally
left there.
Then clever elsie began to weep, and said, if I get Hans, and we
have a child, and he grows big, and we send him into the cellar
here to draw beer, then the pick-axe will fall on his head and
kill him. Then she sat and wept and screamed with all the strength
of her body, over the misfortune which lay before her. Those
upstairs waited for the drink, but clever elsie still did not
come. Then the woman said to the servant, just go down into the
cellar and see where elsie is. The maid went and found her
sitting in front of the barrel, screaming loudly. Elsie, why do
you weep, asked the maid. Ah, she answered, have I not reason
to weep. If I get Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big,
and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on his
head, and kill him. Then said the maid, what a clever elsie we
have. And sat down beside her and began loudly to weep over the
misfortune. After a while, as the maid did not come back, those
upstairs were thirsty for the beer, the man said to the boy, just
go down into the cellar and see where elsie and the girl are.
The boy went down, and there sat clever elsie and the girl both
weeping together. Then he asked, why are you weeping, ah, said
elsie, have I not reason to weep. If I get Hans, and we have a
child, and he grows big, and has to draw beer here, the pick-axe
will fall on his head and kill him. Then said the boy, what a
clever elsie we have. And sat down by her, and likewise began
to howl loudly. Upstairs they
waited for the boy, but as he still did not return, the man said
to the woman, just go down into the cellar and see where elsie is.
The woman went down, and found all three in the midst of their
lamentations, and inquired what was the cause, then elsie told
her also that her future child was to be killed by the pick-axe,
when it grew big and had to draw beer, and the pick-axe fell
down. Then said the mother likewise, what a clever elsie we have.
And sat down and wept with them. The man upstairs waited a short
time, but as his wife did not come back and his thirst grew ever
greater, he said, I must go into the cellar myself and see where
elsie is. But when he got into the cellar, and they were all
sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and that elsie's
child was the cause, and that elsie might perhaps bring one into
the world some day, and that he might be killed by the
pick-axe, if he should happen to be sitting beneath it, drawing
beer just at the very time when it fell down, he cried, oh,
what a clever elsie. And sat down, and likewise wept with them.
The bridegroom stayed upstairs alone for a long time, then as
no one would come back he thought, they must be waiting for me
below, I too must go there and see what they are about. When he
got down, the five of them were sitting screaming and lamenting
quite piteously, each out-doing the other. What misfortune has
happened then, he asked. Ah, dear Hans, said elsie, if we marry
each other and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send
him here to draw something to drink, then the pick-axe which has
been left up there might dash his brains out if it were to fall
down, so have we not reason to weep. Come, said Hans, more
understanding than that is not needed for my household, as you
are such a clever elsie, I will have you. And he seized her
hand, took her upstairs with him, and married her.
After Hans had had her some time, he said, wife, I am going
out to work and earn some money for us, go into the field and cut
the corn that we may have some bread. Yes, dear Hans, I will do
that. After Hans had gone away, she cooked herself some good
broth and took it into the field with her. When she came to the
field she said to herself, what shall I do, shall I cut first, or
shall I eat first. Oh, I will eat first. Then she drank her cup
of broth, and when she was fully satisfied, she once more said,
what shall I do. Shall I cut first, or shall I sleep first. I
will sleep first. Then she lay down among the corn and fell
asleep. Hans had been at home for a long time, but elsie did not
come, then said he, what a clever elsie I have, she is so
industrious that she does not even come home to eat. But when
evening came and she still stayed away, Hans went out to see what
she had cut, but nothing was cut, and she was lying among the
corn asleep. Then Hans hastened home and brought a fowler's net
with little bells and hung it round about her, and she still
went on sleeping. Then he ran home, shut the house-door, and sat
down in his chair and worked. At length, when it was quite dark,
clever elsie awoke and when she got up there was a jingling all
round about her, and the bells rang at each step which she took.
Then she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether she really was
clever elsie or not, and said, is it I, or is it not I. But she
knew not what answer to make to this, and stood for a time in
doubt, at length she thought, I will go home and ask if it be I,
or if it be not I, they will be sure to know. She ran to the door
of her own house, but it was shut, then she knocked at the
window and cried, Hans, is elsie within. Yes, answered Hans, she
is within. Hereupon she was terrified, and said, ah, heavens.
Then it is not I. And went to another door, but when the people
heard the jingling of the bells they would not open it, and she
could get in nowhere. Then she ran out of the village, and no
one has seen her since.
The mother of Hans said, whither away, Hans. Hans answered, to
Gretel. Behave well, Hans. Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye,
mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel.
Good day, Hans. What do you bring that is good. I bring nothing,
I want to have something given me. Gretel presents Hans with a
needle. Hans says, good-bye, Gretel. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and follows the
cart home. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have
you been. With Gretel. What did you take her. Took her nothing,
had something given me. What did Gretel give you. Gave me a
needle. Where is the needle, Hans. Stuck it in the hay-cart.
That was ill done, Hans. You should have stuck the needle in
your sleeve. Never mind, I'll do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What do you
bring that is good. I bring nothing, I want to have something
given to me. Gretel presents Hans with a knife. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye Hans. Hans takes the knife, sticks it in his sleeve, and
goes home. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where
have you been. With Gretel. What did you take her. Took her
nothing, she gave me something. What did Gretel give you. Gave
me a knife. Where is the knife, Hans. Stuck in my sleeve.
That's ill done, Hans, you should have put the knife in your
pocket. Never mind, will do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, I want something given me.
Gretel presents Hans with a young goat. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye, Hans. Hans takes the goat, ties its legs, and puts it
in his pocket. When he gets home it is suffocated. Good evening,
mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel.
What did you take her. Took nothing, she gave me something. What
did Gretel give you. She gave me a goat. Where is the goat, Hans.
Put it in my pocket. That was ill done, Hans, you should have
put a rope round the goat's neck. Never mind, will do better next
time.
Whither away, Hans, to Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
Oh, I'll behave well good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, I want something given to
me. Gretel presents Hans with a piece of bacon. Good-bye,
Gretel. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it away
behind him. The dogs come and devour the bacon. When he gets
home, he has the rope in his hand, and there is no longer
anything hanging to it. Good evening, mother. Good evening,
Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel. What did you take
her. I took her nothing, she gave me something. What did
Gretel give you.
Gave me a bit of bacon. Where is the bacon, Hans. I tied it to
a rope, brought it home, dogs took it. That was ill done, Hans,
you should have carried the bacon on your head. Never mind, will
do better next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans. Hans
comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What good
thing do you bring. I bring nothing, but would have something
given. Gretel presents Hans with a calf. Good-bye, Gretel.
Good-bye, Hans.
Hans takes the calf, puts it on his head, and the calf kicks his
face. Good evening, mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you
been. With Gretel. What did you take her. I took nothing, but
had something given me. What did Gretel give you. A calf.
Where have you the calf, Hans. I set it on my head and it
kicked my face. That was ill done, Hans, you should have led
the calf, and put it in the stall. Never mind, will do better
next time.
Whither away, Hans. To Gretel, mother. Behave well, Hans.
I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Hans.
Hans comes to Gretel. Good day, Gretel. Good day, Hans. What
good thing do you bring. I bring nothing, but would have
something given. Gretel says to Hans, I will go with you.
Hans takes Gretel, ties her to a rope, leads her to the rack and
binds her fast. Then Hans goes to his mother. Good evening,
mother. Good evening, Hans. Where have you been. With Gretel.
What did you take her. I took her nothing. What did Gretel
give you. She gave me nothing, she came with me. Where have
you left Gretel. I led her by the rope, tied her to the rack,
and scattered some grass for her. That was ill done, Hans, you
should have cast friendly eyes on her. Never mind, will do better.
Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves, and sheep's eyes,
and threw them in Gretel's face. Then Gretel became angry, tore
herself loose and ran away, and was no longer the bride of Hans.
Let no one ever say that a poor tailor cannot do great things
and win high honors. All that is needed is that he should go to
the right smithy, and what is of most consequence, that he
should have good luck. A civil, smart tailor's apprentice
once went out traveling, and came into a great forest, and,
as he did not know the way, he lost himself. Night fell and
nothing was left for him to do in this painful solitude, but to
seek a bed. He might certainly have found a good bed on the
soft moss, but the fear of wild beasts let him have no rest
there, and at last he made up his mind to spend the night in
a tree. He sought out a high oak, climbed up to the top of it,
and thanked God that he had his goose with him, for otherwise
the wind which blew over the top of the tree would have carried
him away.
After he had spent some hours in the darkness, not without fear
and trembling, he saw at a very short distance the glimmer of a
light, and as he thought that a human habitation might be there,
where he would be better off than on the branches of a tree, he
got carefully down and went towards the light. It guided him
to a small hut that was woven together of reeds and rushes. He
knocked
boldly, the door opened, and by the light which came forth he saw
a little hoary old man who wore a coat made of bits of colored
stuff sewn together. Who are you, and what do you want, asked
the man in a grumbling voice. I am a poor tailor, he answered,
whom night has surprised here in the wilderness, and I earnestly
beg you to take me into your hut until morning. Go your way,
replied the old man in a surly voice, I will have nothing to do
with tramps, seek for yourself a shelter elsewhere. Having said
this, he was about to slip into his hut again, but the tailor
held him so tightly by the corner of his coat, and pleaded so
piteously, that the old man, who was not so ill-natured as he
wished to appear, was at last softened, and took him into the
hut with him where he gave him something to eat, and then offered
him a very good bed in a corner.
The weary tailor needed no rocking, but slept sweetly till morning,
but even then would not have thought of getting up, if he had
not been aroused by a great noise. A violent sound of screaming
and roaring forced its way through the thin walls of the hut.
The tailor, full of unwonted courage, jumped up, put his clothes
on in haste, and hurried out. Then close by the hut, he saw
a great black bull and a beautiful stag, which were just
preparing for a violent struggle. They rushed at each other with
such extreme rage that the ground shook with their trampling,
and the air resounded with their cries. For a long time it
was uncertain which of the two would gain the victory, at
length the stag thrust his horns into his adversary's body,
whereupon the bull fell to the earth with a terrific roar, and
was finished off by a few strokes from the stag.
The tailor, who had watched the fight with astonishment, was
still standing there motionless, when the stag in full career
bounded up to him, and before he could escape, caught him up
on his great horns. He had not much time to collect his thoughts,
for it went in a swift race over stock and stone, mountain and
valley, wood and meadow. He held with both hands to the ends
of the horns, and resigned himself to his fate. It seemed
to him just as if he were flying away. At length the stag
stopped in front of a wall of rock, and gently let the tailor
down. The tailor, more dead than alive, required
some time to come to himself. When he had in some degree
recovered, the stag, which had remained standing by him, pushed
its horns with such force against a door in the rock, that
it sprang open. Flames of fire shot forth, after which followed
a great smoke, which hid the stag from his sight. The tailor
did not know what to do, or whither to turn, in order to get
out of this desert and back to human beings again. Whilst
he was standing thus undecided, a voice sounded out of the rock,
which cried to him, enter without fear, no evil shall befall you.
He hesitated, but driven by a mysterious force, he obeyed the
voice and went through the iron-door into a large spacious
hall, whose ceiling, walls and floor were made of shining polished
square stones, on each of which were carved signs which were
unknown to him. He looked at everything full of admiration,
and was on the point of going out again, when he once more
heard the voice which said to him, step on the stone
which lies in the middle of the hall, and great good fortune
awaits you.
His courage had already grown so great that he obeyed the order.
The stone began to give way under his feet, and sank slowly down
into the depths. When it was once more firm, and the tailor looked
round, he found himself in a hall which in size resembled the
former. Here, however, there was more to look at and to admire.
Hollow places were cut in the walls, in which stood vases of
transparent glass and filled with colored spirit or with a
bluish vapor. On the floor of the hall two great glass chests
stood opposite to each other, which at once excited his curiosity.
When he went to one of them he saw inside it a handsome structure
like a castle surrounded by farm-buildings, stables and barns,
and a quantity of other good things. Everything was small, but
exceedingly carefully and delicately made, and seemed to be
carved out by a dexterous hand with the greatest precision.
He might not have turned away his eyes from the consideration
of this rarity for some time, had not the voice once more made
itself heard. It ordered him to turn round and look at the
glass chest which was standing opposite. How his admiration
increased when
he saw therein a maiden of the greatest beauty. She lay as if
asleep, and was wrapped in her long fair hair as in a
precious mantle. Her eyes were closely shut, but the brightness
of her complexion and a ribbon which her breathing moved to
and fro, left no doubt that she was alive. The tailor was
looking at the beauty with beating heart, when she suddenly
opened her eyes, and started up at the sight of him with a shock
of joy. Divine providence, cried she, my deliverance is
at hand. Quick, quick, help me out of my prison. If you
push back the bolt of this glass coffin, then I shall be free.
The tailor obeyed without delay, and she immediately raised up
the glass lid, came out and hastened into the corner of the hall,
where she covered herself with a large cloak. Then she seated
herself on a
stone, ordered the young man to come to her, and after she had
imprinted a friendly kiss on his lips, she said, my long-desired
deliverer, kind heaven has guided you to me, and put an end
to my sorrows. On the self-same day when they end, shall your
happiness begin. You are the husband chosen for me by heaven, and
shall pass your life in unbroken joy, loved by me, and rich to
overflowing in every earthly possession. Seat yourself, and
listen to the story of my life.
I am the daughter of a rich count. My parents died when I was
still in my tender youth, and recommended me in their last will
to my elder brother, by whom I was brought up. We loved each
other so tenderly, and were so alike in our way of thinking
and our inclinations, that we both embraced the resolution
never to marry, but to stay together to the end of our lives.
In our house there was no lack of company. Neighbors and friends
visited us often, and we showed the greatest hospitality to
every one. So it came to pass one evening that a stranger came
riding to our castle, and, under pretext of not being able to
get on to the next place, begged for shelter for the night.
We granted his request with ready courtesy, and he entertained us
in the most agreeable manner during supper by conversation
intermingled with stories. My brother liked the stranger so
much that he begged him to spend a couple of days with us, to
which, after some hesitation, he consented. We did not rise
from table until late in the night, the stranger was shown to
a room, and I hastened, as I was tired, to lay my limbs in
my soft bed. Hardly had I fallen off to sleep, when the sound
of faint and delightful music awoke me. As I could not
conceive from whence it came, I wanted to summon my waiting-maid
who slept in the next room, but to my astonishment I found that
speech was taken away from me by an unknown force. I felt as if
a nightmare were weighing down my breast, and was unable to make
the very slightest sound. In the meantime, by the light of
my night-lamp, I saw the stranger enter my room through two
doors which were fast bolted. He came to me and said, that
by magic arts which were at his command, he had caused the
lovely music to sound in order to awaken me, and
that he now forced his way through all fastenings with the
intention of offering his hand and heart. My dislike of his
magic arts was so great, however, that I refused to answer him.
He remained for a time standing without moving, apparently with
the idea of waiting for a favorable decision, but as I continued
to keep silence, he angrily declared he would revenge himself
and find means to punish my pride, and left the room. I
passed the night in the greatest disquietude, and fell asleep
only towards morning. When I awoke, I hurried to my brother, but
did not find him in his room, and the attendants told me that he
had ridden forth with the stranger to the chase at daybreak.
I at once suspected nothing good. I dressed myself quickly,
ordered my palfrey to be saddled, and accompanied only by one
servant, rode full gallop to the forest. The servant fell with
his horse, and could not follow me, for the horse had broken its
foot. I pursued my way without halting, and in a few minutes
I saw the stranger coming towards me with a beautiful stag which
he led by a cord. I asked him where he had left my brother, and
how he had come by this stag, out of whose great eyes I saw
tears flowing. Instead of answering me, he began to laugh
loudly. I fell into a great rage at this, pulled out a pistol
and discharged it at the monster, but the ball rebounded from
his breast and went into my horse's head. I fell to the ground,
and the stranger muttered some words which deprived me of
consciousness.
When I came to my senses again I found myself in this underground
cave in a glass coffin. The magician appeared once again, and
said he had changed my brother into a stag, my castle with all
that belonged to it, diminished in size by his arts, he had
shut up in the other glass chest, and my people, who were all
turned into smoke, he had confined in glass bottles. He
told me that if I would now comply with his wish, it would be an
easy thing for him to put everything back in its former state, as
he had nothing to do but open the vessels, and everything would
return once more to its natural form. I answered him as little
as I had done the first time. He vanished and left me in my
prison, in which a deep sleep came on me.
Among the visions which passed before my eyes, the most
comforting was that in which a young man came and set me free,
and when I opened my eyes to-day I saw you, and beheld my
dream fulfilled. Help me to accomplish the other things
which happened in those visions. The first is that we lift the
glass chest in which my castle is enclosed, on to that broad stone.
As soon as the stone was laden, it began to rise up on high with
the maiden and the young man, and mounted through the opening
of the ceiling into the upper hall, from whence they then could
easily reach the open air. Here the maiden opened the lid, and
it was marvellous to behold how the castle, the houses, and
the farm buildings which were enclosed, stretched themselves out
and grew to their natural size with the greatest rapidity.
After this, the maiden and the tailor returned to the cave beneath
the earth, and had the vessels which were filled with smoke
carried up by the stone. The maiden had scarcely opened the
bottles when the blue smoke rushed out and changed itself into
living men, in whom she recognized her servants and her people.
Her joy was still more increased when her brother, who had
killed the magician in the form of the bull, came out of the
forest towards them in his human form, and on the self-same day
the maiden, in accordance with her promise, gave her hand at the
altar to the lucky tailor.
There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the fair, and sold
her for seven talers. On the way home he had to pass a pond, and
already from afar he heard the frogs crying, aik, aik, aik, aik.
Well, said he to himself, they are talking without rhyme or reason,
it is seven that I have received, not eight. When he got to the
water, he cried to them, stupid animals that you are. Don't you know
better than that. It is seven thalers and not eight. The frogs,
however, stuck to their, aik aik, aik, aik. Come, then, if you won't
believe it, I can count it out to you. And he took his money out of
his pocket and counted out the seven talers, always reckoning four
and twenty groschen to a taler. The frogs, however, paid no
attention to his reckoning, but still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik.
What, cried the peasant, quite angry, if you know better than I,
count it yourselves, and threw all the money at them into the water.
He stood still and wanted to wait until they were through and had
returned to him what was his, but the frogs maintained their opinion
and cried continually, aik, aik, aik, aik. And besides that, did not
throw the money out again. He still waited a long while until
evening came on and he was forced to go home. Then he abused the
frogs and cried, you water-splashers, you thick-heads, you
goggle-eyes, you have great mouths and can screech till you hurt
one's ears, but you cannot count seven talers. Do you think I'm
going to stand here till you get through. And with that he went
away, but the frogs still cried, aik, aik, aik, aik, after him till
he went home sorely vexed. After a while he bought another cow, which
he slaughtered, and he made the calculation that if he sold the meat
well he might gain as much as the two cows were worth, and have the
hide into the bargain. When therefore he got to the town with the
meat, a great pack of dogs were gathered together in front of the
gate, with a large greyhound at the head of them, which jumped at the
meat, sniffed at it, and barked, wow, wow, wow. As there was no
stopping him, the peasant said to him, yes, yes, I know quite well
that you are saying wow, wow, wow, because you want some of the meat,
but I should be in a fine state if I were to give it to you. The
dog, however, answered nothing but wow, wow. Will you promise not to
devour it all then, and will you go bail for your companions. Wow,
wow, wow, said the dog. Well, if you insist on it, I will leave it
for you, I know you well, and know whom you serve, but this I tell
you, I must have my money in three days or else it will go ill with
you, you can just bring it out to me. Thereupon he unloaded the meat
and turned back again. The dogs fell upon it and loudly barked, wow,
wow. The countryman, who heard them from afar, said to himself, hark,
now they all want some, but the big one is responsible to me for it.
When three days had passed, the countryman thought, to-night my money
will be in my pocket, and was quite delighted. But no one would come
and pay it. There is no trusting any one now, said he. At last he
lost patience, and went into the town to the butcher and demanded his
money. The butcher thought it was a joke, but the peasant said,
jesting apart, I will have my money. Did not the big dog bring you
the whole of the slaughtered cow three days ago. Then the butcher
grew angry, snatched a broomstick and drove him out. Wait, said the
peasant, there is still some justice in the world, and went to the
royal palace and begged for an audience. He was led before the king,
who sat there with his daughter, and asked him what injury he had
suffered. Alas, said he, the frogs and the dogs have taken from me
what is mine, and the butcher has paid me for it with the stick. And
he related at full length what had happened. Thereupon the king's
daughter began to laugh heartily, and the king said to him, I cannot
give you justice in this, but you shall have my daughter to wife for
it - in her whole life she has never yet laughed as she has just done
at you, and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh. You
may thank God for your good fortune. Oh, answered the peasant, I do
not want her at all. I have a wife already, and she is one too many
for me, when I go home, it is just as if I had a wife standing in
every corner. Then the king grew angry, and said, you are a boor.
Ah, lord king, replied the peasant, what can you expect from an ox,
but beef. Stop, answered the king, you shall have another reward.
Be off now, but come back in three days, and then you shall have five
hundred counted out in full. When the peasant went out by the gate,
the sentry said, you have made the king's daughter laugh, so you will
certainly receive something good. Yes, that is what I think,
answered the peasant, five hundred are to be counted out to me.
Listen, said the soldier, give me some of it. What can you do with
all that money. As it is you, said the peasant, you shall have two
hundred, present yourself in three days, time before the king, and
let it be paid to you. A Jew, who was standing by and had heard the
conversation, ran after the peasant, held him by the coat, and said,
oh, wonder of God, what a child of fortune you are. I will change it
for you, I will change it for you into small coins, what do you want
with the great talers. Jew, said the countryman, three hundred can
you still have, give it to me at once in coin, in three days from
this, you will be paid for it by the king. The Jew was delighted
with the small profit, and brought the sum in bad groschen, three of
which were worth two good ones. After three days had passed,
according to the king's command, the peasant went before the king.
Pull his coat off, said the latter, and he shall have his five
hundred. Ah, said the peasant, they no longer belong to me, I
presented two hundred of them to the sentry, and three hundred the
Jew has changed for me, so by right nothing at all belongs to me. In
the meantime the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they
had gained from the peasant, and they received the blows strictly
counted out. The soldier bore it patiently and knew already how it
tasted, but the Jew said sorrowfully, alas, alas, are these the heavy
talers. The king could not help laughing at the peasant, and when
all his anger was spent, he said, as you have already lost your
reward before it fell to your lot, I will give you compensation. Go
into my treasure chamber and get some money for yourself, as much as
you will. The peasant did not need to be told twice, and stuffed
into his big pockets whatsoever would go in. Afterwards he went to
an inn and counted out his money. The Jew had crept after him and
heard how he muttered to himself, that rogue of a king has cheated me
after all, why could he not have given me the money himself, and then
I should have known what I had. How can I tell now if what I have
had the luck to put in my pockets is right or not. Good heavens,
said the Jew to himself, that man is speaking disrespectfully of our
lord the king, I will run and inform, and then I shall get a reward,
and he will be punished as well. When the king heard of the peasant's
words he fell into a passion, and commanded the Jew to go and bring
the offender to him. The Jew ran to the peasant, you are to go at
once to the lord king in the very clothes you have on. I know what's
right better than that, answered the peasant, I shall have a new coat
made first. Do you think that a man with so much money in his pocket
should go there in his ragged old coat. The Jew, as he saw that the
peasant would not stir without another coat, and as he feared that if
the king's anger cooled, he himself would lose his reward, and the
peasant his punishment, said, I will out of pure friendship lend you
a coat for the short time. What people will not do for love. The
peasant was contented with this, put the Jew's coat on, and went off
with him. The king reproached the countryman because of the evil
speaking of which the Jew had informed him. Ah, said the peasant,
what a Jew says is always false - no true word ever comes out of his
mouth. That rascal there is capable of maintaining that I have his
coat on. What is that, shrieked the Jew, is the coat not mine. Have
I not lent it to you out of pure friendship, in order that you might
appear before the lord king. When the king heard that, he said, the
Jew has assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or
the peasant. And again he ordered something to be counted out to him
in hard thalers. The peasant, however, went home in the good coat,
with the good money in his pocket, and said to himself, this time I
have made it.
Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said to him,
master, my time is up, now I should be glad to go back home to my
mother, give me my wages. The master answered, you have served me
faithfully and honestly, as the service was so shall the reward be.
And he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head. Hans pulled his
handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped up the lump in it, put it on
his shoulder, and set out on the way home.
As he went on, always putting one foot before the other, he saw a
horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on a lively horse. Ah, said
Hans quite loud, what a fine thing it is to ride. There you sit as
on a chair, you stumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and
cover the ground, you don't know how.
The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out, hi, there,
Hans, why do you go on foot, then.
I must, answered he, for I have this lump to carry home, it is true
that it is gold, but I cannot hold my head straight for it, and it
hurts my shoulder.
I will tell you what, said the rider, we will exchange, I will give
you my horse, and you can give me your lump. With all my heart, said
Hans, but I can tell you, you will have to crawl along with it.
The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans up, then gave him
the bridle tight in his hands and said, if you want to go at a really
good pace, you must click your tongue and call out, jup. Jup.
Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse and rode away so
bold and free. After a little while he thought that it ought to go
faster, and he began to click with his tongue and call out, jup.
Jup. The horse put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew
where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which separated
the field from the highway. The horse would have gone off too if it
had not been stopped by a countryman, who was coming along the road
and driving a cow before him.
Hans pulled himself together and stood up on his legs again, but he
was vexed, and said to the countryman, it is a poor joke, this
riding, especially when one gets hold of a mare like this, that kicks
and throws one off, so that one has a chance of breaking one's neck.
Never again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can walk
quietly behind her, and have, over and above, one's milk, butter and
cheese every day without fail. What would I not give to have such a
cow. Well, said the countryman, if it would give you so much
pleasure, I do not mind giving the cow for the horse. Hans agreed
with the greatest delight, the countryman jumped upon the horse, and
rode quickly away.
Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought over his lucky
bargain. If only I have a morsel of bread - and that can hardly fail
me - I can eat butter and cheese with it as often as I like, if I am
thirsty, I can milk my cow and drink the milk. My goodness, what
more can I want.
When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his great concern ate
up what he had with him - his dinner and supper - and all he had, and
with his last few farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove
his cow onwards along the road to his mother's village.
As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppressive, and Hans
found himself upon a moor which it took about an hour to cross. He
felt it very hot and his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth with
thirst. I can find a cure for this, thought Hans, I will milk the
cow now and refresh myself with the milk. He tied her to a withered
tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather cap underneath, but
try as he would, not a drop of milk came. And as he set himself to
work in a clumsy way, the impatient beast at last gave him such a
blow on his head with its hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and
for a long time could not think where he was.
By good fortune a butcher just then came along the road with a
wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig. What sort of a trick is
this, cried he, and helped the good Hans up. Hans told him what had
happened. The butcher gave him his flask and said, take a drink and
refresh yourself. The cow will certainly give no milk, it is an old
beast, at the best it is only fit for the plough, or for the butcher.
Well, well, said Hans, as he stroked his hair down on his head, who
would have thought it. Certainly it is a fine thing when one can
kill a beast like that at home, what meat one has. But I do not care
much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me. A young pig like that
now is the thing to have, it tastes quite different, and then there
are the sausages.
Listen, Hans, said the butcher, out of love for you I will exchange,
and will let you have the pig for the cow. Heaven repay you for your
kindness, said Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was unbound
from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was put in his
hand.
Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything was going just as
he wished, if he did meet with any vexation it was immediately set
right. Presently there joined him a lad who was carrying a fine
white goose under his arm. They said good morning to each other, and
Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had always made such
good bargains. The boy told him that he was taking the goose to a
christening-feast. Just lift her, added he, and laid hold of her by
the wings, how heavy she is - she has been fattened up for the last
eight weeks. Whosoever has a bit of her when she is roasted will
have to wipe the fat from both sides of his mouth. Yes, said Hans,
as he weighed her in one hand, she is a good weight, but my pig is no
bad one.
Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to the other, and
shook his head. Look here, he said at length, it may not be all
right with your pig. In the village through which I passed, the
mayor himself had just had one stolen out of its sty. I fear - I
fear that you have got hold of it there. They have sent out some
people and it would be a bad business if they caught you with the
pig, at the very least, you would be shut up in the dark hole.
The good Hans was terrified. Goodness, he said, help me out of this
fix, you know more about this place than I do, take my pig and leave
me your goose. I shall risk something at that game, answered the
lad, but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble. So he
took the cord in his hand, and drove away the pig quickly along a
by-path.
The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with the goose under
his arm. When I think over it properly, said he to himself, I have
even gained by the exchange. First there is the good roast meat,
then the quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will give
me dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year, and lastly the
beautiful white feathers. I will have my pillow stuffed with them,
and then indeed I shall go to sleep without rocking. How glad my
mother will be.
As he was going through the last village, there stood a
scissors-grinder with his barrow, as his wheel whirred he sang,
I sharpen scissors and quickly grind,
my coat blows out in the wind behind.
Hans stood still and looked at him, at last he spoke to him and said,
all's well with you, as you are so merry with your grinding. Yes,
answered the scissors-grinder, the trade has a golden foundation. A
real grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into his
pocket finds gold in it. But where did you buy that fine goose?
I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it.
And the pig?
That I got for a cow.
And the cow?
I took that instead of a horse.
And the horse?
For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head.
And the gold?
Well, that was my wages for seven years, service.
You have known how to look after yourself each time, said the
grinder. If you can only get on so far as to hear the money jingle
in your pocket whenever you stand up, you will have made your
fortune.
How shall I manage that, said Hans. You must be a grinder, as I am,
nothing particular is wanted for it but a grindstone, the rest finds
itself. I have one here, it is certainly a little worn, but you need
not give me anything for it but your goose, will you do it?
How can you ask, answered Hans. I shall be the luckiest fellow on
earth. If I have money whenever I put my hand in my pocket, why
should I ever worry again. And he handed him the goose and received
the grindstone in exchange. Now, said the grinder, as he took up an
ordinary heavy stone that lay by him, here is a strong stone for you
into the bargain, you can hammer well upon it, and straighten your
old nails. Take it with you and keep it carefully. Hans loaded
himself with the stones, and went on with a contented heart, his eyes
shining with joy. I must have been born with a caul, he cried,
everything I want happens to me just as if I were a sunday-child.
Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak, he began to
feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for in his joy at the bargain
by which he got the cow he had eaten up all his store of food at
once. At last he could only go on with great trouble, and was forced
to stop every minute, the stones, too, weighed him down dreadfully.
Then he could not help thinking how nice it would be if he had not to
carry them just then.
He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he thought that
he would rest and refresh himself with a cool draught of water, but
in order that he might not injure the stones in sitting down, he laid
them carefully by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down
on it, and was to stoop and drink, when he made a slip, pushed
against the stones, and both of them fell into the water. When Hans
saw them with his own eyes sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy,
and then knelt down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for
having shown him this favor also, and delivered him in so good a way,
and without his having any need to reproach himself, from those heavy
stones which had been the only things that troubled him.
There is no man under the sun so fortunate as I, he cried out. With a
light heart and free from every burden he now ran on until he was
with his mother at home.
Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his wife
and his two children. The boy was called Hansel and the
girl Gretel. He had little to bite and to break, and once when
great dearth fell on the land, he could no longer procure even daily
bread. Now when he thought over this by night in his bed, and
tossed about in his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife, what
is to become of us. How are we to feed our poor children, when
we no longer have anything even for ourselves. I'll tell you what,
husband, answered the woman, early to-morrow morning we
will take the children out into the forest to where it is the
thickest. There we will light a fire for them, and give each of
them one more piece of bread, and then we will go to our work and
leave them alone. They will not find the way home again, and we
shall be rid of them. No, wife, said the man, I will not do that.
How can I bear to leave my children alone in the forest. The wild
animals would soon come and tear them to pieces. O' you fool, said
she, then we must all four die of hunger, you may as well plane the
planks for our coffins, and she left him no peace until he
consented. But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the
same, said the man.
The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and
had heard what their step-mother had said to their father. Gretel
wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel, now all is over with us.
Be quiet, Gretel, said Hansel, do not distress yourself, I will soon
find a way to help us. And when the old folks had fallen asleep,
he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door below, and crept
outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles which lay
in front of the house glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel
stooped and stuffed the little pocket of his coat with as many as he
could get in. Then he went back and said to Gretel, be comforted,
dear little sister, and sleep in peace, God will not forsake us, and
he lay down again in his bed. When day dawned, but before the
sun had risen, the woman came and awoke the two children, saying
get up, you sluggards. We are going into the forest to fetch
wood. She gave each a little piece of bread, and said, there is
something for your dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you
will get nothing else. Gretel took the bread under her apron, as
Hansel had the pebbles in his pocket. Then they all set out
together on the way to the forest. When they had walked a short
time, Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did so
again and again. His father said, Hansel, what are you looking at
there and staying behind for. Pay attention, and do not forget how
to use your legs. Ah, father, said Hansel, I am looking at my
little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants to say
good-bye to me. The wife said, fool, that is not your little cat,
that is the morning sun which is shining on the chimneys. Hansel,
however, had not been looking back at the cat, but had been
constantly throwing one of the white pebble-stones out of his pocket
on the road.
When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said,
now, children, pile up some wood, and I will light a fire that you
may not be cold. Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood together,
as high as a little hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the
flames were burning very high, the woman said, now, children,
lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into the forest
and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and
fetch you away.
Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate
a little piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the
wood-axe they believed that their father was near. It was not the
axe, however, but a branch which he had fastened to a withered tree
which the wind was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had
been sitting such a long time, their eyes closed with fatigue, and
they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was already dark
night. Gretel began to cry and said, how are we to get out of the
forest now. But Hansel comforted her and said, just wait a little,
until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way. And
when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the
hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver
pieces, and showed them the way.
They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came
once more to their father's house. They knocked at the door, and
when the woman opened it and saw that it was Hansel and Gretel,
she said, you naughty children, why have you slept so long in the
forest. We thought you were never coming back at all. The father,
however, rejoiced, for it had cut him to the heart to leave them
behind alone.
Not long afterwards, there was once more great dearth throughout
the land, and the children heard their mother saying at night to
their father, everything is eaten again, we have one half loaf left,
and that is the end. The children must go, we will take them
farther into the wood, so that they will not find their way out
again. There is no other means of saving ourselves. The man's
heart was heavy, and he thought, it would be better for you to share
the last mouthful with your children. The woman, however, would
listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached
him. He who says a must say b, likewise, and as he had yielded the
first time, he had to do so a second time also.
The children, however, were still awake and had heard the
conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up,
and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but
the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out.
Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, do not cry,
Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.
Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of
their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was
still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest
Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a
morsel on the ground. Hansel, why do you stop and look round.
Said the father, go on. I am looking back at my little pigeon
which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to me,
answered Hansel. Fool. Said the woman, that is not your little
pigeon, that is the morning sun that is shining on the chimney.
Hansel, however, little by little, threw all the crumbs on the path.
The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they
had never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again
made, and the mother said, just sit there, you children, and when
you are tired you may sleep a little. We are going into the forest
to cut wood, and in the evening when we are done, we will come and
fetch you away. When it was noon, Gretel shared her piece of
bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way. Then they
fell asleep and evening passed, but no one came to the poor
children. They did not awake until it was dark night, and Hansel
comforted his little sister and said, just wait, Gretel, until the
moon rises, and then we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have
strewn about, they will show us our way home again. When the moon
came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many thousands
of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them all
up. Hansel said to Gretel, we shall soon find the way, but they did
not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next day too
from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the forest,
and were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or three
berries, which grew on the ground. And as they were so weary that
their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree
and fell asleep.
It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house.
They began to walk again, but they always came deeper into the
forest, and if help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and
weariness. When it was mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white
bird sitting on a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood
still and listened to it. And when its song was over, it spread its
wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until they
reached a little house, on the roof of which it alighted. And when
they approached the little house they saw that it was built of
bread and covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear
sugar. We will set to work on that, said Hansel, and have a good
meal. I will eat a bit of the roof, and you Gretel, can eat some
of the window, it will taste sweet. Hansel reached up above, and
broke off a little of the roof to try how it tasted, and Gretel
leant against the window and nibbled at the panes. Then a soft
voice cried from the parlor -
nibble, nibble, gnaw
who is nibbling at my little house.
The children answered -
the wind, the wind,
the heaven-born wind,
and went on eating without disturbing themselves. Hansel, who
liked the taste of the roof, tore down a great piece of it, and
Gretel pushed out the whole of one round window-pane, sat down, and
enjoyed herself with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a woman
as old as the hills, who supported herself on crutches, came
creeping out. Hansel and Gretel were so terribly frightened that
they let fall what they had in their hands. The old woman, however,
nodded her head, and said, oh, you dear children, who has brought
you here. Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to
you. She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little
house. Then good food was set before them, milk and pancakes,
with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds
were covered with clean white linen, and Hansel and Gretel lay down
in them, and thought they were in heaven.
The old woman had only pretended to be so kind. She was in reality
a wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had only built the
little house of bread in order to entice them there. When a child
fell into her power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that
was a feast day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see
far, but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are aware when
human beings draw near. When Hansel and Gretel came into her
neighborhood, she laughed with malice, and said mockingly, I have
them, they shall not escape me again. Early in the morning before
the children were awake, she was already up, and when she saw both
of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their plump and rosy
cheeks, she muttered to herself, that will be a dainty mouthful.
Then she seized Hansel with her shrivelled hand, carried
him into a little stable, and locked him in behind a grated door.
Scream as he might, it would not help him. Then she went to
Gretel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, get up, lazy thing,
fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother, he is
in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I
will eat him. Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in
vain, for she was forced to do what the wicked witch commanded.
And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel
got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the woman crept to the
little stable, and cried, Hansel, stretch out your finger that I may
feel if you will soon be fat. Hansel, however, stretched out a
little bone to her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not
see it, and thought it was Hansel's finger, and was astonished that
there was no way of fattening him. When four weeks had gone by,
and Hansel still remained thin, she was seized with impatience and
would not wait any longer. Now, then, Gretel, she cried to the
girl, stir yourself, and bring some water. Let Hansel be fat or
lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him. Ah, how the poor
little sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and how
her tears did flow down her cheeks. Dear God, do help us, she
cried. If the wild beasts in the forest had but devoured us, we
should at any rate have died together. Just keep your noise to
yourself, said the old woman, it won't help you at all.
Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out and hang up the
cauldron with the water, and light the fire. We will bake first,
said the old woman, I have already heated the oven, and kneaded
the dough. She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which
flames of fire were already darting. Creep in, said the witch,
and see if it properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.
And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let
her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. But Gretel saw
what she had in mind, and said, I do not know how I am to do it.
How do I get in. Silly goose, said the old woman, the door is big
enough. Just look, I can get in myself, and she crept up and
thrust her head into the oven. Then Gretel gave her a push that
drove her far into it, and shut the iron door, and fastened the
bolt. Oh. Then she began to howl quite horribly, but Gretel ran
away, and the godless witch was miserably burnt to death.
Gretel, however, ran like lightning to Hansel, opened his little
stable, and cried, Hansel, we are saved. The old witch is dead.
Then Hansel sprang like a bird from its cage when the door is
opened. How they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance
about and kiss each other. And as they had no longer any need to
fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in every corner
there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. These are far better
than pebbles. Said Hansel, and thrust into his pockets whatever
could be got in, and Gretel said, I, too, will take something home
with me, and filled her pinafore full. But now we must be off, said
Hansel, that we may get out of the witch's forest.
When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great
stretch of water. We cannot cross, said Hansel, I see no
foot-plank, and no bridge. And there is also no ferry, answered
Gretel, but a white duck is swimming there. If I ask her, she
will help us over. Then she cried -
little duck, little duck, dost thou see,
Hansel and Gretel are waiting for thee.
There's never a plank, or bridge in sight,
take us across on thy back so white.
The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on its back,
and told his sister to sit by him. No, replied Gretel, that will be
too heavy for the little duck. She shall take us across, one after
the other. The good little duck did so, and when they were once
safely across and had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to
be more and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from
afar their father's house. Then they began to run, rushed into the
parlor, and threw themselves round their father's neck. The man
had not known one happy hour since he had left the children in the
forest. The woman, however, was dead. Gretel emptied her
pinafore until pearls and precious stones ran about the room, and
Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to
them. Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together in
perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a mouse, whosoever
catches it, may make himself a big fur cap out of it.
***There was once upon a time a king who had a great forest near
his palace, full of all kinds of wild animals. One day he sent
out a huntsman to shoot him a roe, but he did not come back.
Perhaps some accident has befallen him, said the king, and the
next day he sent out two more huntsmen who were to search for him,
but they too stayed away. Then on the third day, he sent for all
his huntsmen, and said, scour the whole forest through, and do
not give up until you have found all three. But of these also,
none came home again, and of the pack of hounds which they had
taken with them, none were seen again. From that time forth,
no one would any longer venture into the forest, and it lay
there in deep stillness and solitude, and nothing was seen of it,
but sometimes an eagle or a hawk flying over it. This lasted
for many years, when an unknown huntsman announced himself
to the king as seeking a situation, and offered to go into the
dangerous forest. The king, however, would not give his consent,
and said, it is not safe in there, I fear it would fare with you
no better than with the others, and you would never come out
again. The huntsman replied, lord, I will venture it at my own
risk, of fear I know nothing.
The huntsman therefore betook himself with his dog to the forest.
It was not long before the dog fell in with some game on the way,
and wanted to pursue it, but hardly had the dog run two steps
when it stood before a deep pool, could go no farther, and a
naked
arm stretched itself out of the water, seized it, and drew it
under. When the huntsman saw that, he went back and fetched
three men to come with buckets and bale out the water. When
they could see to the bottom there lay a wild man whose body
was brown like rusty iron, and whose hair hung over his face
down to his knees. They bound him with cords, and led
him away to the castle. There was great astonishment over the
wild man, the king, however, had him put in an iron cage in his
court-yard, and forbade the door to be opened on pain of death,
and the queen herself was to take the key into her keeping.
And from this time forth every one could again go into the
forest with safety.
The king had a son of eight years, who was once playing in the
court-yard, and while he was playing, his golden ball fell into
the cage. The boy ran thither and said, give me my ball out.
Not till you have opened the door for me, answered the man. No,
said the boy, I will not do that, the king has forbidden it,
and ran away. The next day he again went and asked for his
ball. The wild man said, open my
door, but the boy would not. On the third day the king had
ridden out hunting, and the boy went once more and said, I
cannot open the door even if I wished, for I have not the key.
Then the wild man said, it lies under your mother's pillow,
you can get it there. The boy, who wanted to have his ball back,
cast all thought to the winds, and brought the key. The door
opened with difficulty, and the boy pinched his fingers. When
it was open the wild man stepped out, gave him the golden ball,
and hurried away. The boy had become afraid, he called and
cried after him, oh, wild man, do not go away, or I shall be
beaten. The wild man turned back, took him up, set him on his
shoulder, and went with hasty steps into the forest. When the
king came home, he observed the empty cage, and asked the queen
how that had happened. She knew nothing about it, and sought the
key, but it was gone. She called the boy, but no one answered.
The king sent out people to seek for him in the fields, but
they did not find him. Then he could easily guess what had
happened, and much grief reigned in the royal court.
When the wild man had once more reached the dark forest, he
took the boy down from his shoulder, and said to him, you
will never see your father and mother again, but I will keep
you with me, for you have set me free, and I have compassion
on you. If you do all I bid you, you shall fare well. Of
treasure and gold have I enough, and more than anyone in the
world. He made a bed of moss for the boy on which he slept,
and the next morning the man took him to a well, and said,
behold, the gold well is as bright and clear as crystal, you
shall sit beside it, and take care that nothing falls into
it, or it will be polluted. I will come every evening to see if
you have obeyed my order. The boy placed himself by the brink of
the well, and often saw a golden fish or a golden snake show
itself therein, and took care that nothing fell in. As he was
thus sitting, his finger hurt him so violently that he
involuntarily put it in the water. He drew it quickly out
again, but saw that it was quite gilded, and whatsoever pains
he took to wash the gold off again, all was to no purpose. In
the evening iron Hans came back, looked at the boy, and said,
what has happened to the well. Nothing,
nothing, he answered, and held his finger behind his back, that
the man might not see it. But he said, you have dipped your
finger into the water, this time it may pass, but take care
you do not again let anything go in. By daybreak the boy was
already sitting by the well and watching it. His finger hurt
him again and he passed it over his head, and then unhappily
a hair fell down into the well. He took it quickly out, but
it was already quite gilded. Iron Hans came, and already knew
what had happened. You have let a hair fall into the well,
said he. I will allow you to watch by it once more, but if this
happens for the third time then the well is polluted, and you
can no longer remain with me.
On the third day, the boy sat by the well, and did not stir his
finger, however much it hurt him. But the time was long to
him, and he looked at the reflection of his face on the surface
of the water. And as he still bent down more and more while he
was doing so, and trying to look straight into the eyes, his
long hair fell down from his shoulders into the water. He
raised himself up quickly, but the whole of the hair of his head
was already golden and shone like the sun. You can imagine how
terrified the poor boy was. He took his pocket-handkerchief
and tied it round his head, in order that the man might not
see it. When he came he already knew everything, and said,
take the handkerchief off. Then the golden hair streamed forth,
and let the boy excuse himself as he might, it was of no use.
You have not stood the trial, and can stay here no longer. Go
forth into the world, there you will learn what poverty is. But
as you have not a bad heart, and as I mean well by you, there is
one thing I will grant you. If you fall into any difficulty,
come to the forest and cry, iron Hans, and then I will come and
help you. My power is great, greater than you think, and I have
gold and silver in abundance.
Then the king's son left the forest, and walked by beaten and
unbeaten paths ever onwards until at length he reached a great
city. There he looked for work, but could find none, and he
had learnt nothing by which he could help himself. At length
he went to the palace, and asked if they would take him in.
The people about
court did not at all know what use they could make of him, but
they liked him, and told him to stay. At length the cook took
him into his service, and said he might carry wood and water, and
rake the cinders together. Once when it so happened that
no one else was at hand, the cook ordered him to carry the
food to the royal table, but as he did not like to let his
golden hair be seen, he kept his little cap on. Such a thing
as that had never yet come under the king's notice, and he said,
when you come to the royal table you must take your hat off. He
answered, ah, lord, I cannot. I have a bad sore place on my
head. Then the king had the cook called before him and scolded
him, and asked how he could take such a boy as that into his
service, and that he was to send him away at once. The cook,
however, had pity on him, and exchanged him for the gardener's
boy.
And now the boy had to plant and water the garden, hoe and dig,
and bear the wind and bad weather. Once in summer when he was
working alone in the garden, the day was so warm he took his
little cap off that the air might cool him. As the sun shone
on his hair it glittered and flashed so that the rays fell into
the bed-room of the king's daughter, and up she sprang to
see what that could be. Then she saw the boy, and cried to
him, boy, bring me a wreath of flowers. He put his cap on
with all haste, and gathered wild field-flowers and bound them
together. When he was ascending the stairs with them, the
gardener met him, and said, how can you take the king's daughter a
garland of such common flowers. Go quickly, and get another,
and seek out the prettiest and rarest. Oh, no, replied the
boy, the wild ones have more scent, and will please her better.
When he got into the room, the king's daughter said, take
your cap off, it is not seemly to keep it on in my presence.
He again said, I may not, I have a sore head. She, however,
caught at his cap and pulled it off, and then his golden hair
rolled down on his shoulders, and it was splendid to behold.
He wanted to run out, but she held him by the arm, and gave him
a handful of ducats. With these he departed, but he cared
nothing for the gold pieces. He took them to the gardener, and
said, I present them to
your children, they can play with them. The following day the
king's daughter again called to him that he was to bring her a
wreath of field-flowers, and when he went in with it, she
instantly snatched at his cap, and wanted to take it away from
him, but he held it fast with both hands. She again gave him a
handful of ducats, but he would not keep them, and gave them
to the gardener for playthings for his children. On the third
day things went just the same. She could not get his cap away
from him, and he would not have her money.
Not long afterwards, the country was overrun by war. The king
gathered together his people, and did not know whether or not
he could offer any opposition to the enemy, who was superior
in strength and had a mighty army. Then said the gardener's boy,
I am grown up, and will go to the wars also, only give me a
I am grown up, and will go the the wars also, only give me a
horse. The others laughed, and said, seek one for yourself when
we are gone, we will leave one behind us in the stable for you.
When they had gone forth, he went into the stable, and led the
horse out. It was lame of one foot, and limped hobblety
jig, hobblety jig, nevertheless he mounted it, and rode away
to the dark forest. When he came to the outskirts, he called
'iron Hans, three times so loudly that it echoed through the
trees. Thereupon the wild man appeared immediately, and said,
what do you desire. I want a strong steed, for I am going to the
wars. That you shall have, and still more than you ask for.
Then the wild man went back into the forest, and it was not
long before a stable-boy came out of it, who led a horse that
snorted with its nostrils, and could hardly be restrained,
and behind them followed a great troop of warriors entirely
equipped in iron, and their swords flashed in the sun. The
youth made over his three-legged horse to the stable-boy,
mounted the other, and rode at the head of the soldiers. When
he got near the battle-field a great part of the king's men had
already fallen, and little was wanting to make the rest give way.
Then the youth galloped thither with his iron soldiers, broke
like a hurricane over the enemy, and beat down all who opposed
him. They began to flee, but the youth pursued, and never
stopped, until there was not a single man left. Instead
of returning to the king, however, he conducted his troop
by byways back to the forest, and called forth iron Hans.
What do you desire, asked the wild man. Take back your horse and
your troops, and give me my three-legged horse again. All
that he asked was done, and soon he was riding on his three-legged
horse. When the king returned to his palace, his daughter went
to meet him, and wished him joy of his victory. I am not the
one who carried away the victory, said he, but a strange knight
who came to my assistance with his soldiers. The daughter
wanted to hear who the strange knight was, but the king did
not know, and said, he followed the enemy, and I did not see him
again. She inquired of the gardener where his boy was, but he
smiled, and said, he has just come home on his three-legged
horse, and the others have been mocking him, and crying, here
comes our hobblety jig back again. They asked, too, under
what hedge have you been lying sleeping all the time. So he
said, I did the best of all, and it would have gone badly without
me. And then he was still more ridiculed.
The king said to his daughter, I will proclaim a great feast
that shall last for three days, and you shall throw a golden
apple. Perhaps the unknown man will show himself. When the
feast was announced, the youth went out to the forest, and called
iron Hans. What do you desire, asked he. That I may catch the
king's daughter's golden apple. It is as safe as if you had
it already, said iron Hans. You shall likewise have a suit of
red armor for the occasion, and ride on a spirited chestnut-horse.
When the day came, the youth galloped to the spot, took his
place amongst the knights, and was recognized by no one. The
king's daughter came forward, and threw a golden apple to the
knights, but none of them caught it but he, only as soon as he
had it he galloped away.
On the second day iron Hans equipped him as a white knight, and
gave him a white horse. Again he was the only one who caught
the apple, and he did not linger an instant, but galloped
off with it. The king grew angry, and said, that is not allowed.
He must appear before me and tell his name. He gave the order
that if the knight who caught the apple, should go away again
they should
pursue him, and if he would not come back willingly, they were
to cut him down and stab him.
On the third day, he received from iron Hans a suit of black armor
and a black horse, and again he caught the apple. But when he was
riding off with it, the king's attendants pursued him, and
one of them got so near him that he wounded the youth's leg
with the point of his sword. The youth nevertheless escaped
from them, but his horse leapt so violently that the helmet fell
from the youth's head, and they could see that he had golden
hair. They rode back and announced this to the king.
The following day the king's daughter asked the gardener about
his boy. He is at work in the garden. The queer creature has
been at the festival too, and only came home yesterday evening.
He has likewise shown my children three golden apples which he
has won.
The king had him summoned into his presence, and he came and again
had his little cap on his head. But the king's daughter went up
to him and took it off, and then his golden hair fell down
over his shoulders, and he was so handsome that all were amazed.
Are you the knight who came every day to the festival, always in
different colors, and who caught the three golden apples, asked
the king. Yes, answered he, and here the apples are, and he
took them out of his pocket, and returned them to the king. If
you desire further proof, you may see the wound which your people
gave me when they followed me. But I am likewise the knight
who helped you to your victory over your enemies. If you can
perform such deeds as that, you are no gardener's boy, tell me,
who is your father. My father is a mighty king, and gold have
I in plenty as great as I require. I well see, said the king,
that I owe thanks to you, can I do anything to please you. Yes,
answered he, that indeed you can. Give me your daughter to wife.
The maiden laughed, and said, he does not stand much on ceremony,
but I have already seen by his golden hair that he was no
gardener's boy, and then she went and kissed him. His father and
mother came to the wedding, and were in great delight, for they
had given up all
hope of ever seeing their dear son again. And as they were sitting
at the marriage-feast, the music suddenly stopped, the doors
opened, and a stately king came in with a great retinue. He went
up to the youth, embraced him and said, I am iron Hans, and was by
enchantment a wild man, but you have set me free. All the
treasures which I possess, shall be your property.
There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper and deeper into
poverty, and at last their need was so great that they had to endure
hunger, and had nothing to eat or drink. Then said they, it cannot go
on like this, we had better go into the world and seek our fortune.
They therefore set out, and had already walked over many a long road
and many a blade of grass, but had not yet met with good luck. One
day they arrived in a great forest, and in the midst of it was a
hill, and when they came nearer they saw that the hill was all
silver. Then spoke the eldest, now I have found the good luck I
wished for, and I desire nothing more. He took as much of the silver
as he could possibly carry, and then turned back and went home again.
But the two others said, we want something more from good luck than
mere silver, and did not touch it, but went onwards. After they had
walked for two days longer without stopping, they came to a hill
which was all gold. The second brother stopped, took thought with
himself, and was undecided. What shall I do, said he, shall I take
for myself so much of this gold, that I have sufficient for all the
rest of my life, or shall I go farther. At length he made a
decision, and putting as much into his pockets as would go in, said
farewell to his brother, and went home.
But the third said, silver and gold do not move me, I will not
renounce my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will be
given me. He journeyed onwards, and when he had walked for three
days, he came to a forest which was still larger than the one before,
and never would come to an end, and as he found nothing to eat or to
drink, he was all but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to
find out if up there he could see the end of the forest, but so far
as his eye could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of trees. Then
he began to descend the tree again, but hunger tormented him, and he
thought to himself, if I could but eat my fill once more.
When he got down he saw with astonishment a table beneath the tree
richly spread with food, the steam of which rose up to meet him.
This time, said he, my wish has been fulfilled at the right moment.
And without inquiring who had brought the food, or who had cooked it,
he approached the table, and ate with enjoyment until he had appeased
his hunger. When he was done, he thought, it would after all be a
pity if the pretty little table-cloth were to be spoilt in the forest
here, and folded it up tidily and put it in his pocket. Then he went
onwards, and in the evening, when hunger once more returned to him,
he wanted to make a trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and
said, I wish you to be covered with good cheer again, and scarcely
had the wish crossed his lips than as many dishes with the most
exquisite food on them stood on the table as there was room for. Now
I perceive, said he, in what kitchen my cooking is done. You shall
be dearer to me than the mountains of silver and gold. For he saw
plainly that it was a wishing-cloth. The cloth, however, was still
not enough to enable him to sit down quietly at home, he preferred to
wander about the world and pursue his fortune farther.
One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black charcoal-burner,
who was burning charcoal there, and had some potatoes by the fire, on
which he was going to make a meal. Good evening, blackbird, said the
youth. How do you get on in your solitude.
One day is like another, replied the charcoal-burner, and every night
potatoes. Have you a mind to have some, and will you be my guest.
Many thanks, replied the traveler, I won't rob you of your supper,
you did not reckon on a visitor, but if you will put up with what I
have, you shall have an invitation. Who is to prepare it for you,
said the charcoal-burner. I see that you have nothing with you, and
there is no one within a two hours' walk who could give you anything.
And yet there shall be a meal, answered the youth, and better than
any you have ever tasted. Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his
knapsack, spread it on the ground, and said, little cloth, cover
yourself, and instantly boiled meat and baked meat stood there, and
as hot as if it had just come out of the kitchen.
The charcoal-burner stared with wide-open eyes, but did not require
much pressing, he fell to, and thrust larger and larger mouthfuls
into his black mouth. When they had eaten everything, the
charcoal-burner smiled contentedly, and said, listen, your
table-cloth has my approval, it would be a fine thing for me in this
forest, where no one ever cooks me anything good. I will propose an
exchange to you, there in the corner hangs a soldier's knapsack,
which is certainly old and shabby, but in it lie concealed wonderful
powers, but, as I no longer use it, I will give it to you for the
table-cloth.
I must first know what these wonderful powers are, answered the
youth.
That will I tell you, replied the charcoal-burner, every time you tap
it with your hand, a corporal comes with six men armed from head to
foot, and they do whatsover you command them. So far as I am
concerned, said the youth, if nothing else can be done, we will
exchange, and he gave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took the
knapsack from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell. When he had
walked a while, he wished to make a trial of the magical powers of
his knapsack and tapped it. Immediately the seven warriors stepped
up to him, and the corporal said, what does my lord and ruler wish
for.
March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and demand my
wishing-cloth back. They faced to the left, and it was not long
before they brought what he required, and had taken it from the
charcoal-burner without asking many questions. The young man bade
them retire, went onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more
brightly on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner, who
was making his supper ready by the fire. If you will eat some
potatoes with salt, but with no dripping, come and sit down with me,
said the sooty fellow.
No, he replied, this time you shall be my guest, and he spread out
his cloth, which was instantly covered with the most beautiful
dishes. They ate and drank together, and enjoyed themselves
heartily. After the meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, up
there on that shelf lies a little old worn-out hat which has strange
properties - the moment someone puts it on, and turns it round on his
head, the cannons go off as if twelve were fired all together, and
they demolish everything so that no one can withstand them. The hat
is of no use to me, and I will willingly give it for your tablecloth.
That suits me very well, he answered, took the hat, put it on, and
left his table-cloth behind him. But hardly had he walked away than
he tapped on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth
back again. One thing comes on the top of another, thought he, and I
feel as if my luck had not yet come to an end. Neither had his
thoughts deceived him. After he had walked on for the whole of one
day, he came to a third charcoal-burner, who like the previous one,
invited him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also dine
with him from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-burner liked it so
well, that at last he offered him a horn for it, which had very
different properties from those of the hat. The moment someone blew
it all the walls and fortifications fell down, and all towns and
villages became ruins. For this he immediately gave the
charcoal-burner the cloth, but he afterwards sent his soldiers to
demand it back again, so that at length he had the knapsack, hat and
horn, all three. Now, said he, I am a made man, and it is time for
me to go home and see how my brothers are getting on.
When he reached home, his brothers had built themselves a handsome
house with their silver and gold, and were living in clover. He went
to see them, but as he came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on
his head, and his old knapsack on his back, they would not
acknowledge him as their brother. They mocked and said, you give out
that you are our brother who despised silver and gold, and craved for
something still better for himself. Such a person arrives in his
carriage in full splendor like a mighty king, not like a beggar, and
they drove him out of doors. Then he fell into a rage, and tapped
his knapsack until a hundred and fifty men stood before him armed
from head to foot. He commanded them to surround his brothers,
house, and two of them were to take hazelsticks with them, and beat
the two insolent men until they knew who he was.
A violent disturbance broke out, people ran together, and wanted to
lend the two some help in their need, but against the soldiers they
could do nothing. News of this at length came to the king, who was
very angry, and ordered a captain to march out with his troop, and
drive this disturber of the peace out of the town, but the man with
knapsack soon got a greater body of men together, who repulsed the
captain and his men, so that they were forced to retire with bloody
noses. The king said, this vagabond is not brought to order yet, and
next day sent a still larger troop against him, but they could do
even less. The youth set still more men against them, and in order
to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round on his head, and
heavy guns began to play, and the king's men were beaten and put to
flight.
And now, said he, I will not make peace until the king gives me his
daughter to wife, and I govern the whole kingdom in his name. He
caused this to be announced to the king, and the latter said to his
daughter, necessity is a hard nut to crack. What else is there for
me to do but what he desires. If I want peace and to keep the crown
on my head, I must give you away.
So the wedding was celebrated, but the king's daughter was vexed that
her husband should be a common man, who wore a shabby hat, and put on
an old knapsack. She longed to get rid of him, and night and day
studied how she could accomplished this. Then she thought to
herself, is it possible that his wonderful powers lie in the
knapsack, and she feigned affection and caressed him, and when his
heart was softened, she said, if you would but lay aside that horrid
knapsack, it makes you look so ugly, that I can't help being ashamed
of you. Dear child, said he, this knapsack is my greatest treasure,
as long as I have it, there is no power on earth that I am afraid of.
And he revealed to her the wonderful virtue with which it was
endowed.
Then she threw herself in his arms as if she were going to kiss him,
but cleverly took the knapsack off his shoulders, and ran away with
it. As soon as she was alone she tapped it, and commanded the
warriors to seize their former master, and take him out of the royal
palace. They obeyed, and the false wife sent still more men after
him, who were to drive him quite out of the country. Then he would
have been ruined if he had not had the little hat. And hardly were
his hands free before he turned it twice. Immediately the cannon
began to thunder, and demolished everything, and the king's daughter
herself was forced to come and beg for mercy. As she entreated in
such moving terms, and promised to better her ways, he allowed
himself to be persuaded and granted her peace.
She behaved in a friendly manner to him, and acted as if she loved
him very much, and after some time managed so to befool him, that he
confided to her that even if someone got the knapsack into his power,
he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat was still his.
When she knew the secret, she waited until he was asleep, and then
she took the hat away from him, and had it thrown out into the
street. But the horn still remained to him, and in great anger he
blew it with all his strength.
Instantly all walls, fortifications, towns, and villages, toppled
down, and crushed the king and his daughter to death. And had he not
put down the horn and had blown just a little longer, everything
would have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been left
standing on another. Then no one opposed him any longer, and he made
himself king of the whole country.
Little Red-Cap
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved
by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her
grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have
given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red
velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear
anything else. So she was always called little red-cap.
One day her mother said to her, come, little red-cap, here
is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine. Take them to your
grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they will do her good.
Set out before it gets hot, and when you are going, walk
nicely and quietly and do not run off the path, or you may
fall and break the bottle, and then your grandmother will
get nothing. And when you go into her room, don't forget
to say, good-morning, and don't peep into every corner before
you do it.
I will take great care, said little red-cap to her mother, and
gave her hand on it.
The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league from the
village, and just as little red-cap entered the wood, a wolf
met her. Red-cap did not know what a wicked creature he was,
and was not at all afraid of him.
"Good-day, little red-cap," said he.
"Thank you kindly, wolf."
"Whither away so early, little red-cap?"
"To my grandmother's."
"What have you got in your apron?"
"Cake and wine. Yesterday was baking-day, so poor sick
grandmother is to have something good, to make her stronger."
"Where does your grandmother live, little red-cap?"
"A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood. Her house
stands under the three large oak-trees, the nut-trees are just
below. You surely must know it," replied little red-cap.
The wolf thought to himself, what a tender young creature. What a
nice plump mouthful, she will be better to eat than the old
woman. I must act craftily, so as to catch both. So he walked
for a short time by the side of little red-cap, and then he
said, "see little red-cap, how pretty the flowers are about here.
Why do you not look round. I believe, too, that you do not
hear how sweetly the little birds are singing. You walk gravely
along as if you were going to school, while everything else out
here in the wood is merry."
Little red-cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the sunbeams
dancing here and there through the trees, and pretty flowers
growing everywhere, she thought, suppose I take grandmother a
fresh nosegay. That would please her too. It is so early in the
day that I shall still get there in good time. And so she ran
from the path into the wood to look for flowers. And whenever
she had picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one
farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper into
the wood.
Meanwhile the wolf ran straight to the grandmother's house and
knocked at the door.
"Who is there?"
"Little red-cap," replied the wolf. "She is bringing cake and
wine. Open the door."
"Lift the latch," called out the grandmother, "I am too weak, and
cannot get up."
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without
saying a word he went straight to the grandmother's bed, and
devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in
her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.
Little red-cap, however, had been running about picking flowers,
and when she had gathered so many that she could carry
no more, she remembered her grandmother, and set out on the
way to her.
She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and
when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that
she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at
other times I like being with grandmother so much. She called
out, "good morning," but received no answer. So she went to the
bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with
her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
"Oh, grandmother," she said, "what big ears you have."
"The better to hear you with, my child," was the reply.
"But, grandmother, what big eyes you have," she said.
"The better to see you with," my dear.
"But, grandmother, what large hands you have."
"The better to hug you with."
"Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have."
"The better to eat you with."
And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one bound he was
out of bed and swallowed up red-cap.
When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down again in
the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud. The
huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to himself, how
the old woman is snoring. I must just see if she wants anything.
So he went into the room, and when he came to the bed, he saw
that the wolf was lying in it. Do I find you here, you old
sinner, said he. I have long sought you. Then just as he was going
to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have
devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be saved, so
he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and began to cut
open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When he had made two
snips, he saw the little red-cap shining, and then he made two
snips more, and the little girl sprang out, crying, ah, how
frightened I have been. How dark it was inside the wolf. And
after that the aged grandmother came out alive also, but scarcely
able to breathe. Red-cap, however, quickly
fetched great stones with which they filled the wolf's belly, and
when he awoke, he wanted to run away, but the stones were so
heavy that he collapsed at once, and fell dead.
Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off the wolf's
skin and went home with it. The grandmother ate the cake and
drank the wine which red-cap had brought, and revived, but
red-cap thought to herself, as long as I live, I will never by
myself leave the path, to run into the wood, when my mother has
forbidden me to do so.
It is also related that once when red-cap was again taking cakes
to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and tried to
entice her from the path. Red-cap, however, was on her guard,
and went straight forward on her way, and told her grandmother
that she had met the wolf, and that he had said good-morning to
her, but with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if they had
not been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten
her up. Well, said the grandmother, we will shut the door, that
he may not come in. Soon afterwards the wolf knocked, and cried,
open the door, grandmother, I am little red-cap, and am bringing
you some cakes. But they did not speak, or open the door, so
the grey-beard stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last
jumped on the roof, intending to wait until red-cap went home in
the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in the
darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his thoughts. In
front of the house was a great stone trough, so she said to the
child, take the pail, red-cap. I made some sausages yesterday,
so carry the water in which I boiled them to the trough. Red-cap
carried until the great trough was quite full. Then the smell
of the sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped
down, and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could
no longer keep his footing and began to slip, and slipped down
from the roof straight into the great trough, and was drowned.
But red-cap went joyously home, and no one ever did anything
to harm her again.
There was once a widow who had two daughters - one of
whom was pretty and industrious, whilst the other was ugly
and idle. But she was much fonder of the ugly and idle one,
because she was her own daughter. And the other, who was a
step-daughter, was obliged to do all the work, and be the
cinderella of the house. Every day the poor girl had to sit by a
well, in the highway, and spin and spin till her fingers bled.
Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked with her
blood, so she dipped it in the well, to wash the mark off, but it
dropped out of her hand and fell to the bottom. She began to
weep, and ran to her step-mother and told her of the mishap. But
she scolded her sharply, and was so merciless as to say, since
you have let the shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again.
So the girl went back to the well, and did not know what to do.
And in the sorrow of her heart she jumped into the well to get the
shuttle. She lost her senses. And when she awoke and came to
herself again, she was in a lovely meadow where the sun was
shining and many thousands of flowers were growing. Across this
meadow she went, and at last came to a baker's oven full of bread,
and the bread cried out, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall
burn. I have been baked a long time. So she went up to it, and
took out all the loaves one after another with the bread-shovel.
After that she went on till she came to a tree covered with apples,
which called out to her, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are
all ripe. So she shook the tree till the apples fell like rain,
and went on shaking till they were all down, and when she had
gathered them into a heap, she went on her way.
At last she came to a little house, out of which an old woman
peeped. But she had such large teeth that the girl was
frightened, and was about to run away. But the old woman called
out to her, what are you afraid of, dear child. Stay with me.
If you will do all the work in the house properly, you shall be
the better for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well,
and shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly - for then there
is snow on the earth. I am mother holle.
As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took courage
and agreed to enter her service. She attended to everything to the
satisfaction of her mistress, and always shook her bed so vigorously
that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes. So she had a
pleasant life with her. Never an angry word. And to eat she had
boiled or roast meat every day.
She stayed some time with mother holle, before she became sad.
At first she did not know what was the matter with her, but found
at length that it was home-sickness. Although she was many thousand
times better off here than at home, still she had a longing to be
there. At last she said to the old woman, I have a longing for
home, and however well off I am down here, I cannot stay any
longer. I must go up again to my own people. Mother holle said,
I am pleased that you long for your home again, and as you have
served me so truly, I myself will take you up again. Thereupon
she took her by the hand, and led her to a large door. The door
was opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the
doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the gold clung
to her, so that she was completely covered over with it.
You shall have that because you have been so industrious, said
mother holle, and at the same time she gave her back the shuttle
which she had let fall into the well. Thereupon the door closed,
and the maiden found herself up above upon the earth, not far
from her mother's house.
And as she went into the yard the cock was sitting on the well,
and cried -
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your golden girl's come back to you.
So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus covered with
gold, she was well received, both by her and her sister.
The girl told all that had happened to her, and as soon as the
mother heard how she had come by so much wealth, she was very
anxious to obtain the same good luck for the ugly and lazy daughter.
She had to seat herself by the well and spin. And in order that
her shuttle might be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a
thorn bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw her shuttle
into the well, and jumped in after it.
She came, like the other, to the beautiful meadow and walked
along the very same path. When she got to the oven the bread again
cried, oh, take me out. Take me out. Or I shall burn. I have been
baked a long time. But the lazy thing answered, as if I had any
wish to make myself dirty. And on she went. Soon she came to the
apple-tree, which cried, oh, shake me. Shake me. We apples are all
ripe. But she answered, I like that. One of you might fall on
my head, and so went on. When she came to mother holle's house
she was not afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and
she hired herself to her immediately.
The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and obeyed
mother holle when she told her to do anything, for she was thinking
of all the gold that she would give her. But on the second day
she began to be lazy, and on the third day still more so, and then
she would not get up in the morning at all. Neither did she make
mother holle's bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to
make the feathers fly up. Mother holle was soon tired of this, and
gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was willing enough to go,
and thought that now the golden rain would come. Mother holle led
her also to the great door, but while she was standing beneath it,
instead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch was emptied over her.
That is the reward for your service, said mother holle, and shut
the door.
So the lazy girl went home, but she was quite covered with pitch,
and the cock on the well, as soon as he saw her, cried out -
cock-a-doodle-doo.
Your dirty girl's come back to you.
But the pitch clung fast to her, and could not be got off as long
as she lived.
There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain
wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God
was about to grant her desire. These people had a little
window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden
could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and
herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one
dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had
great power and was dreaded by all the world. One day the woman
was standing by this window and looking down into the garden,
when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful
rampion - rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she
longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire
increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any
of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.
Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, what ails you, dear
wife. Ah, she replied, if I can't eat some of the rampion, which
is in the garden behind our house, I shall die. The man, who loved
her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of
the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he
clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress,
hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She
at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted
so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it
three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her
husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of
evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had
clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the
enchantress standing before him. How can you dare, said she with
angry look, descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a
thief. You shall suffer for it. Ah, answered he, let mercy take
the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of
necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such
a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some
to eat. Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and
said to him, if the case be as you say, I will allow you to take
away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one
condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring
into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it
like a mother. The man in his terror consented to everything, and
when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once,
gave the child the name of rapunzel, and took it away with her.
Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun.
When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a
tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but
quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress
wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair to me.
Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when
she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided
tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above,
and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed
up by it.
After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode
through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song,
which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was
rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet
voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and
looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He
rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that
every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when
he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress
came there, and he heard how she cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair.
Then rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the
enchantress climbed up to her. If that is the ladder by which one
mounts, I too will try my fortune, said he, and the next day when
it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair.
Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up.
At first rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as
her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son
began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his
heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he
had been forced to see her. Then rapunzel lost her fear, and when
he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that
he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than
old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.
She said, I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know
how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that
you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready
I will descend, and you will take me on your horse. They agreed
that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the
old woman came by day. The enchantress remarked nothing of
this, until once rapunzel said to her, tell me, dame gothel, how
it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than
the young king's son - he is with me in a moment. Ah. You
wicked child, cried the enchantress. What do I hear you say. I
thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have
deceived me. In her anger she clutched rapunzel's beautiful
tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of
scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the
lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she
took poor rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great
grief and misery.
On the same day that she cast out rapunzel, however, the
enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to
the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,
rapunzel, rapunzel,
let down your hair,
she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of
finding his dearest rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed
at him with wicked and venomous looks. Aha, she cried mockingly,
you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits
no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch
out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see
her again. The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in
his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life,
but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he
wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and
berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his
dearest wife. Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at
length came to the desert where rapunzel, with the twins to which
she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He
heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards
it, and when he approached, rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck
and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear
again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his
kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long
time afterwards, happy and contented.
Rumpelstiltskin
Once there was a miller who was poor, but who had a beautiful
daughter. Now it happened that he had to go and speak to the
king, and in order to make himself appear important he said
to him, I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold. The
king said to the miller, that is an art which
pleases me well, if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring
her to-morrow to my palace, and I will put her to the test.
And when the girl was brought to him he took her into a room
which was quite full of straw, gave her a spinning-wheel and a
reel, and said, now set to work, and if by to-morrow morning
early you have not spun this straw into gold during the night,
you must die. Thereupon he himself locked up the room, and
left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller's daughter,
and for the life of her could not tell what to do, she had no
idea how straw could be spun into gold, and she grew more and
more frightened, until at last she began to weep.
But all at once the door opened, and in came a little man,
and said, good evening, mistress miller, why are you crying so.
Alas, answered the girl, I have to spin straw into gold, and I do
not know how to do it. What will you give me, said the
manikin, if I do it for you. My necklace, said the girl. The
little man took the necklace, seated himself in front of the
wheel, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three turns, and the reel was
full, then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr, three times
round, and the second was full too. And so it went on until
the morning, when all the straw was spun, and all the reels
were full of gold.
By daybreak the king was already there, and
when he saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his
heart became only more greedy. He had the miller's daughter
taken into another room full of straw, which was much larger,
and commanded her to spin that also in one night if she valued
her life. The girl knew not how to help herself, and was
crying, when the door opened again, and the little man appeared,
and said, what will you give me if I spin that straw into gold
for you. The ring on my finger, answered the girl. The little
man took the ring, again began to turn the wheel, and by
morning had spun all the straw into glittering gold.
The king rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but still he had
not gold enough, and he had the miller's daughter taken into
a still larger room full of straw, and said, you must spin this,
too, in the course of this night, but if you succeed, you shall
be my wife.
Even if she be a miller's daughter, thought he, I could not
find a richer wife in the whole world.
When the girl was alone the manikin came again for the third
time, and said, what will you give me if I spin the straw for
you this time also. I have nothing left that I could give,
answered the girl. Then promise me, if you should become queen,
to give me your first child. Who knows whether that will
ever happen, thought the miller's daughter, and, not knowing
how else to help herself in this strait, she promised the
manikin what he wanted, and for that he once more spun the
straw into gold.
And when the king came in the morning, and found all as he
had wished, he took her in marriage, and the pretty miller's
daughter became a queen.
A year after, she brought a beautiful child into the world,
and she never gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he
came into her room, and said, now give me what you promised.
The queen was horror-struck, and offered the manikin all the
riches of the kingdom if he would leave her the child. But the
manikin said, no, something alive is dearer to me than all the
treasures in the world. Then the queen began to lament and cry,
so that the manikin pitied her. I will give you three days,
time, said he, if by that time you find out my name, then shall
you keep your child.
So the queen thought the whole night of all the names that
she had ever heard, and she sent a messenger over the country to
inquire, far and wide, for any other names that there might be.
When the manikin came the next day, she began with caspar,
melchior, balthazar, and said all the names she knew, one
after another, but to every one the little man said, that is not
my name. On the second day she had inquiries made in the
neighborhood as to the names of the people there, and she
repeated to the manikin the most uncommon and curious. Perhaps
your name is shortribs, or sheepshanks, or laceleg, but he
always answered, that is not my name.
On the third day the messenger came back again, and said, I
have not been able to find a single new name, but as I came to
a high mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare
bid each other good night, there I saw a little house, and
before the house a fire was burning, and round about the fire
quite a ridiculous little man was jumping, he hopped upon
one leg, and shouted -
to-day I bake, to-morrow brew,
the next I'll have the young queen's child.
Ha, glad am I that no one knew
that Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.
You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the
name. And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and
asked, now, mistress queen, what is my name, at first she
said, is your name Conrad? No. Is your name Harry? No.
Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?
The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that, cried
the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so
deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in
rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that
he tore himself in two.
There was once upon a time a king who had twelve daughters, each one
more beautiful than the other. They all slept together in one
chamber, in which their beds stood side by side, and every night when
they were in them the king locked the door, and bolted it. But in
the morning when he unlocked the door, he saw that their shoes were
worn out with dancing, and no one could find out how that had come to
pass. Then the king caused it to be proclaimed that whosoever could
discover where they danced at night, should choose one of them for
his wife and be king after his death, but that whosoever came forward
and had not discovered it within three days and nights, should have
forfeited his life.
It was not long before a king's son presented himself, and offered to
undertake the enterprise. He was well received, and in the evening
was led into a room adjoining the princesses, sleeping-chamber. His
bed was placed there, and he was to observe where they went and
danced, and in order that they might do nothing secretly or go away
to some other place, the door of their room was left open. But the
eyelids of the prince grew heavy as lead, and he fell asleep, and
when he awoke in the morning, all twelve had been to the dance, for
their shoes were standing there with holes in the soles. On the
second and third nights there was no difference, and then his head
was struck off without mercy.
Many others came after this and undertook the enterprise, but all
forfeited their lives. Now it came to pass that a poor soldier, who
had a wound, and could serve no longer, found himself on the road to
the town where the king lived. There he met an old woman, who asked
him where he was going. "I hardly know myself," answered he, and
added in jest, "I had half a mind to discover where the princesses
danced their shoes into holes, and thus become king." "That is not so
difficult," said the old woman, "you must not drink the wine which
will be brought to you at night, and must pretend to be sound
asleep." With that she gave him a little cloak, and said, "If you
wear this, you will be invisible, and then you can steal after the
twelve." When the soldier had received this good advice, he fell to
in earnest, took heart, went to the king, and announced himself as a
suitor. He was as well received as the others, and royal garments
were put upon him. He was conducted that evening at bed-time into
the antechamber, and as he was about to go to bed, the eldest came
and brought him a cup of wine, but he had tied a sponge under his
chin, and let the wine run down into it, without drinking a drop.
Then he lay down and when he had lain a while, he began to snore, as
if in the deepest sleep. The twelve princesses heard that, and
laughed, and the eldest said, "He, too, might as well have saved his
life." With that they got up, opened wardrobes, presses, cupboards,
and brought out pretty dresses, dressed themselves before the
mirrors, sprang about, and rejoiced at the prospect of the dance.
Only the youngest said, "I know not how it is, you are very happy,
but I feel very strange, some misfortune is certainly about to befall
us." "You are a goose, who are always frightened," said the eldest.
"Have you forgotten how many kings' sons have already come here in
vain. I had hardly any need to give the soldier a sleeping-draught,
the booby would not have awakened anyway."
When they were all ready they looked carefully at the soldier, but he
had closed his eyes and did not move or stir, so they felt themselves
safe enough. The eldest then went to her bed and tapped it,
whereupon it immediately sank into the earth, and one after the other
they descended through the opening, the eldest going first. The
soldier, who had watched everything, tarried no longer, put on his
little cloak, and went down last with the youngest. Half-way down
the steps, he just trod a little on her dress, she was terrified at
that, and cried out, "What is that? Who is pulling my dress?" "Don't
be so silly," said the eldest, "you have caught it on a nail."
Then they went all the way down, and when they were at the bottom,
they were standing in a wonderfully pretty avenue of trees, all the
leaves of which were of silver, and shone and glistened. The soldier
thought, "I must carry a token away with me," and broke off a twig
from one of them, on which the tree cracked with a loud report. The
youngest cried out again. "Something is wrong, did you hear the
crack?" But the eldest said, "It is a gun fired for joy, because we
have got rid of our prince so quickly." After that they came into an
avenue where all the leaves were of gold, and lastly into a third
where they were of bright diamonds, he broke off a twig from each,
which made such a crack each time that the youngest started back in
terror, but the eldest still maintained that they were salutes.
They went on and came to a great lake whereon stood twelve little
boats, and in every boat sat a handsome prince, all of whom were
waiting for the twelve, and each took one of them with him, but the
soldier seated himself by the youngest. Then her prince said, "I
wonder why the boat is so much heavier to-day. I shall have to row
with all my strength, if I am to get it across." "What should cause
that," said the youngest, "but the warm weather?" "I feel very warm
too." On the opposite side of the lake stood a splendid, brightly-lit
castle, from whence resounded the joyous music of trumpets and
kettle-drums. They rowed there, entered, and each prince danced with
the girl he loved, but the soldier danced with them unseen, and when
one of them had a cup of wine in her hand he drank it up, so that the
cup was empty when she carried it to her mouth, the youngest was
alarmed at this, but the eldest always silenced her. They danced
there till three o'clock in the morning when all the shoes were
danced into holes, and they were forced to leave off, the princes
rowed them back again over the lake, and this time the soldier seated
himself by the eldest.
On the shore they took leave of their princes, and promised to return
the following night. When they reached the stairs the soldier ran on
in front and lay down in his bed, and when the twelve had come up
slowly and wearily, he was already snoring so loudly that they could
all hear him, and they said, "So far as he is concerned, we are
safe." They took off their beautiful dresses, laid them away, put the
worn-out shoes under the bed, and lay down. Next morning the soldier
was resolved not to speak, but to watch the wonderful goings-on, and
again went with them a second and a third night.
Then everything was just as it had been the first time, and each time
they danced until their shoes were worn to pieces. But the third
time he took a cup away with him as a token. When the hour had
arrived for him to give his answer, he took the three twigs and the
cup, and went to the king, but the twelve stood behind the door, and
listened for what he was going to say. When the king put the
question, "Where have my twelve daughters danced their shoes to
pieces in the night?" He answered, "In an underground castle with
twelve princes," and related how it had come to pass, and brought out
the tokens. The king then summoned his daughters, and asked them if
the soldier had told the truth, and when they saw that they were
betrayed, and that falsehood would be of no avail, they were obliged
to confess all. Thereupon the king asked which of them he would have
to wife. He answered, "I am no longer young, so give me the eldest."
Then the wedding was celebrated on the self-same day, and the kingdom
was promised him after the king's death. But the princes were
bewitched for as many days as they had danced nights with the twelve.
Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the flakes of
snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a queen sat at
a window sewing, and the frame of the window was made of black
ebony. And whilst she was sewing and looking out of the window
at the snow, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three
drops of blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty
upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, would that I had
a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as the
wood of the window-frame.
Soon after that she had a little daughter, who was as white as
snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as black as ebony,
and she was therefore called little snow-white. And when the
child was born, the queen died.
After a year had passed the king took to himself another wife.
She was a beautiful woman, but proud and haughty, and she could
not bear that anyone else chould surpass her in beauty. She
had a wonderful looking-glass, and when she stood in front of it
and looked at herself in it, and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
The looking-glass answered,
thou, o queen, art the fairest of all.
Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-glass spoke
the truth.
But snow-white was growing up, and grew more and more beautiful,
and when she was seven years old she was as beautiful as the day,
and more beautiful than the queen herself. And once when the
queen asked her looking-glass,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
It answered,
thou art fairer than all who are here, lady queen.
But more beautiful still is snow-white, as I ween.
Then the queen was shocked, and turned yellow and green with
envy. From that hour, whenever she looked at snow-white, her
heart heaved in her breast, she hated the girl so much.
And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her heart like a
weed, so that she had no peace day or night. She called a
huntsman, and said, take the child away into the forest. I will
no longer have her in my sight. Kill her, and bring me back her
lung and liver as a token. The huntsman obeyed, and took her away
but when he had drawn his knife, and was about to pierce
snow-white's innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, ah dear
huntsman, leave me my life. I will run away into the wild forest,
and never come home again.
And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on her and
said, run away, then, you poor child. The wild beasts will soon
have devoured you, thought he, and yet it seemed as if a stone had
been rolled from his heart since it was no longer needful for
him to kill her. And as a young bear just then came running by
he stabbed it, and cut out its lung and liver and took them to the
queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook had to salt them,
and the wicked queen ate them, and thought she had eaten the lung
and liver of snow-white.
But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest, and so
terrified that she looked at all the leaves on the trees, and did
not know what to do. Then she began to run, and ran over sharp
stones and through thorns, and the wild beasts ran past her, but
did her no harm.
She ran as long as her feet would go until it was almost evening,
then she saw a little cottage and went into it to rest herself.
Everything in the cottage was small, but neater and cleaner than
can be told. There was a table on which was a white cover, and
seven little plates, and on each plate a little spoon, moreover,
there were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs.
Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and
covered with snow-white counterpanes.
Little snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she ate some
vegetables and bread from each plate and drank a drop of wine
out of each mug, for she did not wish to take all from one only.
Then, as she was so tired, she laid herself down on one of the
little beds, but none of them suited her, one was too long,
another too short, but at last she found that the seventh one was
right, and so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to
sleep.
When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came back.
They were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the mountains for
ore. They lit their seven candles, and as it was now light within
the cottage they saw that someone had been there, for everything
was not in the same order in which they had left it.
The first said, who has been sitting on my chair.
The second, who has been eating off my plate.
The third, who has been taking some of my bread.
The fourth, who has been eating my vegetables.
The fifth, who has been using my fork.
The sixth, who has been cutting with my knife.
The seventh, who has been drinking out of my mug.
Then the first looked round and saw that there was a little
hollow on his bed, and he said, who has been getting into my
bed. The others came up and each called out, somebody has been
lying in my bed too. But the seventh when he looked at his bed
saw little snow-white, who was lying asleep therein. And he
called the others, who came running up, and they cried out with
astonishment, and brought their seven little candles and let the
light fall on little snow-white. Oh, heavens, oh, heavens, cried
they, what a lovely child. And they were so glad that they did
not wake her up, but let her sleep on in the bed. And the
seventh dwarf slept with his companions, one hour with each, and
so passed the night.
When it was morning little snow-white awoke, and was frightened
when she saw the seven dwarfs. But they were friendly and asked
her what her name was. My name is snow-white, she answered.
How have you come to our house, said the dwarfs. Then she told
them that her step-mother had wished to have her killed, but
that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she had run for
the whole day, until at last she had found their dwelling.
The dwarfs said, if you will take care of our house, cook, make
the beds, wash, sew and knit, and if you will keep everything neat
and clean you can stay with us and you shall want for nothing.
Yes, said snow-white, with all my heart. And she stayed with
them. She kept the house in order for them. In the mornings
they went to the mountains and looked for copper and gold, in the
evenings they came back, and then their supper had to be ready.
The girl was alone the whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her
and said, beware of your step-mother, she will soon know that you
are here, be sure to let no one come in.
But the queen, believing that she had eaten snow-white's lung and
liver, could not but think that she was again the first and most
beautiful of all, and she went to her looking-glass and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And the glass answered,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-glass
never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman had betrayed
her, and that little snow-white was still alive.
And so she thought and thought again how she might kill her,
for so long as she was not the fairest in the whole land, envy let
her have no rest. And when she had at last thought of something
to do, she painted her face, and dressed herself like an old
pedlar-woman, and no one could have known her. In this disguise
she went over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, and
knocked at the door and cried, pretty things to sell, very cheap,
very cheap. Little snow-white looked out of the window and called
out, good-day my good woman, what have you to sell. Good things,
pretty things, she answered, stay-laces of all colors, and she
pulled out one which was woven of bright-colored silk. I may let
the worthy old woman in, thought snow-white, and she unbolted the
door and bought the pretty laces. Child, said the old woman,
what a fright you look, come, I will lace you properly for once.
Snow-white had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let herself
be laced with the new laces. But the old woman laced so quickly
and so tightly that snow-white lost her breath and fell down as
if dead. Now I am the most beautiful, said the queen to herself,
and ran away.
Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs came home,
but how shocked they were when they saw their dear little snow-white
lying on the ground, and that she neither stirred nor
moved, and seemed to be dead. They lifted her up, and, as they
saw that she was laced too tightly, they cut the laces, then she
began to breathe a little, and after a while came to life again.
When the dwarfs heard what had happened they said, the old
pedlar-woman was no one
else than the wicked queen, take care and let no one come in
when we are not with you.
But the wicked woman when she had reached home went in front
of the glass and asked,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And it answered as before,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart with fear,
for she saw plainly that little snow-white was again alive.
But now, she said, I will think of something that shall really
put an end to you. And by the help of witchcraft, which she
understood, she made a poisonous comb. Then she disguised
herself and took the shape of another old woman. So she went
over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the
door, and cried, good things to sell, cheap, cheap. Little
snow-white looked out and said, go away, I cannot let anyone come
in. I suppose you can look, said the old woman, and pulled the
poisonous comb out and held it up. It pleased the girl so well
that she let herself be beguiled, and opened the door. When they
had made a bargain the old woman said, now I will comb you
properly for once. Poor little snow-white had no suspicion, and
let the old woman do as she pleased, but hardly had she put the
comb in her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the girl
fell down senseless. You paragon of beauty, said the wicked
woman, you are done for now, and she went away.
But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven dwarfs
came home. When they saw snow-white lying as if dead upon the
ground they at once suspected the step-mother, and they looked
and found the poisoned comb. Scarcely had they taken it out when
snow-white came to herself, and told them what had happened.
Then they warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open
the door to no one.
The queen, at home, went in front of the glass and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
Then it answered as before,
oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
but over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
snow-white is still alive and well,
and none is so fair as she.
When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and shook
with rage. Snow-white shall die, she cried, even if it costs me
my life.
Thereupon she went into a quite secret, lonely room, where no
one ever came, and there she made a very poisonous apple.
Outside it looked pretty, white with a red cheek, so that
everyone who saw it longed for it, but whoever ate a piece of it
must surely die.
When the apple was ready she painted her face, and dressed herself
up as a farmer's wife, and so she went over the seven
mountains to the seven dwarfs. She knocked at the door. Snow-white
put her head out of the window and said, I cannot let
anyone in, the seven dwarfs have forbidden me. It is all the
same to me, answered the woman, I shall soon get rid of my apples.
There, I will give you one.
No, said snow-white, I dare not take anything. Are you afraid
of poison, said the old woman, look, I will cut the apple in two
pieces, you eat the red cheek, and I will eat the white. The
apple was so cunningly made that only the red cheek was
poisoned. Snow-white longed for the fine apple, and when she saw
that the woman ate part of it she could resist no longer, and
stretched out
her hand and took the poisonous half. But hardly had she a bit
of it in her mouth than she fell down dead. Then the queen
looked at her with a dreadful look, and laughed aloud and said,
white as snow, red as blood, black as ebony-wood, this time the
dwarfs cannot wake you up again.
And when she asked of the looking-glass at home,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
And it answered at last,
oh, queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.
Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious heart can
have rest.
The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening, found snow-white
lying upon the ground, she breathed no longer and was dead.
They lifted her up, looked to see whether they could find
anything poisonous, unlaced her, combed her hair, washed her
with water and wine, but it was all of no use, the poor child was
dead, and remained dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all
seven of them sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days
long.
Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked as if she
were living, and still had her pretty red cheeks. They said,
we could not bury her in the dark ground, and they had a
transparent coffin of glass made, so that she could be seen from
all sides, and they laid her in it, and wrote her name upon it
in golden letters, and that she was a king's daughter. Then they
put the coffin out upon the mountain, and one of them always
stayed by it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for
snow-white, first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.
And now snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin, and she
did not change, but looked as if she were asleep, for she was as
white as snow, as red as blood, and her hair was as black as
ebony.
It happened, however, that a king's son came into the forest, and
went to the dwarfs, house to spend the night. He saw the coffin
on the mountain, and the beautiful snow-white within it, and read
what was written upon it in golden letters. Then he said to the
dwarfs, let me have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want
for it. But the dwarfs answered, we will not part with it for all
the gold in the world. Then he said, let me have it as a gift, for
I cannot live without seeing snow-white. I will honor and prize
her as my dearest possession. As he spoke in this way the good
dwarfs took pity upon him, and gave him the coffin.
And now the king's son had it carried away by his servants on
their shoulders. And it happened that they stumbled over a
tree-stump, and with the shock the poisonous piece of apple
which snow-white had bitten off came out of her throat. And
before long she opened her eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin,
sat up, and was
once more alive. Oh, heavens, where am I, she cried. The king's
son, full of joy, said, you are with me. And told her what had
happened, and said, I love you more than everything in the
world, come with me to my father's palace, you shall be my wife.
And snow-white was willing, and went with him, and their wedding
was held with great show and splendor. But snow-white's
wicked step-mother was also bidden to the feast. When she had
arrayed herself in beautiful clothes she went before the
looking-glass, and said,
looking-glass, looking-glass, on the wall,
who in this land is the fairest of all.
The glass answered,
oh, queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
but the young queen is fairer by far as I trow.
Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so wretched,
so utterly wretched that she knew not what to do. At first she
would not go to the wedding at all, but she had no peace, and
had to go to see the young queen. And when she went in she
recognized snow-white, and she stood still with rage and fear,
and could not stir. But iron slippers had already been put upon
the fire, and they were brought in with tongs, and set before
her. Then she was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance
until she dropped down dead.
There was once a girl whose father and mother died while
she was still a little child. All alone, in a small house at the
end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself
by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the
forlorn child to live with her, kept her to her work, and educated
her in all that is good. When the girl was fifteen years old,
the old woman became ill, called the child to her bedside,
and said, dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near. I leave you
the little house, which will protect you from wind and weather, and
my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your
bread. Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her,
and said, only preserve the love of God in your heart, and all will
go well with you. Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was
laid in the earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping
bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect.
And now the maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and
was industrious, and spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the
good old woman was on all that she did. It seemed as if the flax
in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a
piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found
a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of
nothing, and even had something to share with others.
About this time, the son of the king was traveling about the
country looking for a bride. He was not to choose a poor one, and
did not want to have a rich one. So he said, she shall be my wife
who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest. When he came
to the village where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did
wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest girl in
the place. They first named the richest. The poorest, they said,
was the girl who lived in the small house quite at the end of the
village. The rich girl was sitting in all her splendor before the
door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up,
went to meet him, and made him a low curtsy. He looked at her,
said nothing, and rode on. When he came to the house of the poor
girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little
room. He stopped his horse, and saw through the window, on which
the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her spinning-wheel,
busily spinning. She looked up, and when she saw that the prince
was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall,
and went on spinning. I do not know whether, just at that
moment, the thread was quite even, but she went on spinning until
the king's son had ridden away again. Then she went to the
window, opened it, and said, it is so warm in this room, and she
looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white
feathers in his hat. Then she sat down to work again in her room
and went on with her spinning, and a saying which the old woman
had often repeated when she was
sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these
words to herself,
spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away,
and here to my house bring the wooer, I pray.
And what do you think happened. The spindle sprang out of her
hand in an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her
astonishment, she got up and looked after it, she saw that it was
dancing out merrily into the open country, and drawing a shining
gold thread after it. Before long, it had entirely vanished from
her sight. As she had now no spindle, the girl took the weaver's
shuttle in her hand, sat down to her loom, and began to weave.
The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as
the thread came to an end, reached the prince. What do I see, he
cried, the spindle certainly wants to show me the way, turned
his horse about, and rode back with the golden thread. The girl
however, was sitting at her work singing,
shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day,
and guide the wooer to me, I pray.
Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door.
Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which
was more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld.
Lilies and roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden
ground in the center green branches ascended, under which bounded
hares and rabbits, stags and deer stretched their heads in
between them, brightly-colored birds were sitting in the branches
above, they lacked nothing but the gift of song. The shuttle
leapt hither and thither, and everything seemed to grow of
its own accord.
As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She held
the needle in her hand and sang,
needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine,
prepare for the wooer this house of mine.
Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere
about the room as quick as lightning. It was just as if
invisible spirits were working, it covered tables and benches
with green cloth in an instant,
and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken
curtains. Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the
maiden saw through the window the white feathers of the prince,
whom the spindle had brought thither by the golden thread. He
alighted, stepped over the carpet into the house, and when he
entered the room, there stood the maiden in her poor garments, but
she shone out from within them like a rose surrounded by leaves.
You are the poorest and also the richest, said he to her. Come
with me, you shall be my bride. She did not speak, but she gave
him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, led her forth, lifted her
on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the
wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings. The spindle,
shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber,
and held in great honor.
There was once a poor woodcutter who toiled from early
morning till late at night. When at last he had laid by some
money he said to his boy, "You are my only child, I will spend the
money which I have earned with the sweat of my brow on your
education, if you learn some honest trade you can support me in
my old age, when my limbs have grown stiff and I am obliged to
stay at home."
Then the boy went to a high school and learned
diligently so that his masters praised him, and he remained
there a long time. When he had worked through two classes, but
was still not yet perfect in everything, the little pittance
which the father had earned was all spent, and the boy was
obliged to return home to him.
"Ah," said the father, sorrowfully, "I can
give you no more, and in these hard times I cannot earn a
farthing more than will suffice for our daily bread." "Dear
father," answered the son, "don't trouble yourself about it, if it
is God's will, it will turn to my advantage. I shall soon
accustom myself to it." When the father wanted to go into the
forest to earn money by helping to chop and stack wood, the
son said, "I will go with you and help you." "Nay, my son," said
the father, "that would be hard for you. You are not accustomed
to rough work, and will not be able to bear it. Besides, I have
only one axe and no money left wherewith to buy another." "Just
go to the neighbor," answered the son, "he will lend you his axe
until I have earned one for myself."
The father then borrowed an axe of the neighbor, and next
morning at break of day they went out into the forest together.
The son helped his father and was quite merry and brisk about
it. But when the sun was right over their heads, the father
said, "We will rest, and have our dinner, and then we shall work
twice as well." The son took his bread in his hands, and said,
"Just you rest, father, I am not tired, I will walk up and down
a little in the forest, and look for birds' nests." "Oh, you fool,"
said the father, "why should you want to run about there? Afterwards
you will be tired, and no longer able to raise your arm.
Stay here, and sit down beside me."
The son, however, went into the forest, ate his bread, was very
merry and peered in among the green branches to see if he could
discover a bird's nest anywhere. So he walked to and fro until
at last he came to a great dangerous-looking oak, which
certainly was already many hundred years old, and which five
men could not have spanned. He stood still and looked at it, and
thought, many a bird must have built its nest in that. Then all at
once it seemed to him that he heard a voice. He listened and
became aware that someone was crying in a very smothered voice,
"Let me out, let me out." He looked around, but could discover
nothing. Then he fancied that the voice came out of the ground.
So he cried, "Where are you?" The voice answered, "I am down here
amongst the roots of the oak-tree. Let me out. Let me out."
The schoolboy began to loosen the earth under the tree, and search
among the roots, until at last he found a glass bottle in a little
hollow. He lifted it up and held it against the light, and then
saw a creature shaped like a frog, springing up and down in it.
"Let me out. Let me out," it cried anew, and the boy thinking no
evil, drew the cork out of the bottle. Immediately a spirit
ascended from it, and began to grow, and grew so fast that in a
very few moments he stood before the boy, a terrible fellow as big
as half the tree. "Do you know," he cried in an awful voice, "what
your reward is for having let me out?" "No," replied the boy
fearlessly, "how should I know that?" "Then I will tell you," cried
the spirit, "I must strangle you for it." "You should have told me
that sooner," said the boy, "for I should then have left you shut
up, but my head shall stand fast for all you can do, more persons
than one must be consulted about that." "More persons here, more
persons there," said the spirit. "You shall have the reward you
have earned. Do you think that I was shut up there for such a
long time as a favor. No, it was a punishment for me. I am the
mighty Mercurius. Whoso releases me, him must I strangle."
"Slowly," answered the boy, "not so fast. I must first know that
you really were shut up in that little bottle, and that you are
the right spirit. If, indeed, you can get in again, I will believe
and then you may do as you will with me." The spirit said
haughtily, "that is a very trifling feat." Drew himself together,
and made himself as small and slender as he had been at first, so
that he crept through the same opening, and right through the neck
of the bottle in again. Scarcely was he within than the boy
thrust the cork he had drawn back into the bottle, and threw
it among the roots of the oak into its old place, and the spirit
was deceived.
And now the schoolboy was about to return to his father, but the
spirit cried very piteously, "Ah, do let me out, ah, do let me out."
"No," answered the boy, "not a second time. He who has once tried to
take my life shall not be set free by me, now that I have caught
him again." "If you will set me free," said the spirit, "I will give
you so much that you will have plenty all the days of your life."
"No," answered the boy, "you would cheat me as you did the first time."
"You are spurning you own good luck," said the spirit, "I will do you
no harm but will reward you richly." The boy thought, "I will
venture it, perhaps he will keep his word, and anyhow he shall not
get the better of me."
Then he took out the cork, and the spirit
rose up from the bottle as he had done before, stretched himself
out and became as big as a giant. "Now you shall have your reward,"
said he, and handed the boy a little rag just like stiking-plaster,
and said, "If you spread one end of this over a wound it
will heal, and if you rub steel or iron with the other end it will
be changed into silver." "I must just try that," said the boy, and
went to a tree, tore off the bark with his axe, and rubbed it
with one end of the plaster. It immediately closed together and
was healed. "Now, it is all right," he said to the spirit, "and we
can part." The spirit thanked him for his release, and the boy
thanked the spirit for his present, and went back to his father.
"Where have you been racing about?" said the father. "Why have you
forgotten your work? I always said that you would never come to
anything." "Be easy, father, I will make it up." "Make it up indeed,"
said the father angrily, "that's no use." "Take care, father, I will
soon hew that tree there, so that it will split." Then he took
his plaster, rubbed the axe with it, and dealt a mighty blow, but
as the iron had changed into silver, the edge bent. "Hi, father,
just look what a bad axe you've given me, it has become quite
crooked." The father was shocked and said, "Ah, what have you done!
Now I shall have to pay for that, and have not the wherewithal, and
that is all the good I have got by your
work." "Don't get angry," said the son, "I will soon pay for the axe."
"Oh, you blockhead," cried the father, "Wherewith will you pay for it?
You have nothing but what I give you. These are students' tricks
that are sticking in your head, you have no idea of woodcutting."
After a while the boy said, "Father, I can really work no more, we
had better take a holiday." "Eh, what," answered he, "do you think I
will sit with my hands lying in my lap like you. I must go on
working, but you may take yourself off home." "Father, I am here in
this wood for the first time, I don't know my way alone. Do go
with me." As his anger had now abated, the father at last let
himself be persuaded and went home with him. Then he said to the
son, "Go and sell your damaged axe, and see what you can get for it,
and I must earn the difference, in order to pay the neighbor."
The son took the axe, and carried it into town to a goldsmith,
who tested it, laid it in the scales, and said, "It is worth four
hundred talers, I have not so much as that by me." The son said,
"Give me what thou have, I will lend you the rest." The goldsmith
gave him three hundred talers, and remained a hundred in his
debt. The son thereupon went home and said, "Father, I have got
the money, go and ask the neighbor what he wants for the axe."
"I know that already," answered the old man, "one taler, six groschen."
"Then give him him two talers, twelve groschen, that is double and
enough. See, I have money in plenty." And he gave the father
a hundred talers, and said, "You shall never know want, live as
comfortably as you like."
"Good heavens," said the father, "how
have you come by these riches?" The boy then told how all had come
to pass, and how he, trusting in his luck, had made such a packet.
But with the money that was left, he went back to the high school
and went on learning more, and as he could heal all wounds with
his plaster, he became the most famous doctor in the whole world.
There were once a man and a woman who had an only child, and
lived quite alone in a solitary valley. It came to pass that the
mother once went into the wood to gather branches of fir, and
took with her little Hans, who was just two years old. As it
was spring-time, and the child took pleasure in the many-colored
flowers, she went still further onwards with him into the forest.
Suddenly two robbers sprang out of the thicket, seized the mother
and child, and carried them far away into the black forest, where
no one ever came from one year's end to another. The poor woman
urgently begged the robbers to set her and her child free, but
their hearts were made of stone, they would not listen to her
prayers and entreaties, and drove her on farther by force. After
they had worked their way through bushes and briars for about
two miles, they came to a rock where there was a door, at which
the robbers knocked and it opened at once. They had to go through
a long dark passage, which burnt on the hearth. On the wall hung
swords, sabres, and other deadly weapons which gleamed in the
light, and in the midst stood a black table at which four other
robbers were sitting gambling, and the captain sat at the head of
it. As soon as he saw the woman he came and spoke to her, and
told her to be at ease and have no fear, they would do nothing to
hurt her, but she must look after the housekeeping, and if she
kept everything in order, she should not fare ill with them.
Thereupon they gave her something to eat, and showed her a bed
where she might sleep with her child.
The woman stayed many years with the robbers, and Hans grew
tall and strong. His mother told him stories, and taught him
to read an old book of tales about knights which she found in
the cave. When Hans was nine years old, he made himself a strong
club out of a branch of fir, hid it behind the bed, and then
went to his mother and said, dear mother, pray tell me who is
my father. I must and will know. His mother was silent and
would not tell him, that he might not become home-sick. Moreover
she knew that the godless robbers would not let him go away, but
it almost broke her heart that Hans should not go to his father.
In the night, when the robbers came home from their robbing
expedition, Hans brought out his club, stood before the captain,
and said, I now wish to know who my father is, and if you do not
tell me at once I will strike you down. Then the captain laughed,
and gave Hans such a box on the ear that he rolled under the table.
Hans got up again, held his tongue, and thought, I will wait
another year and then try again, perhaps I shall do better then.
When the year was over, he brought out his club again, rubbed the
dust off it, looked at it well, and said,
it is a stout strong club. At night the robbers came home,
drank one jug of wine after another, and their heads began to be
heavy. Then Hans brought out his club, placed himself before
the captain, and asked him who his father was. But the captain
again gave him such a vigorous box on the ear that Hans rolled
under the table. However, it was not long before he was up again,
and so beat the captain and the robbers with his club, that
they could no longer move either their arms or their legs.
His mother stood in a corner full of admiration for his bravery
and strength. When Hans had done his work, he went to his mother,
and said, now I have shown myself to be in earnest, but now I
must also know who my father is. Dear Hans, answered the
mother, come, we will go and seek him until we find him. She
took from the captain the key to the entrance-door, and Hans
fetched a great meal-sack and packed into it gold and silver, and
whatsoever else he could find that was beautiful, until it was
full, and then he took it on his back. They left the cave, but
how Hans did open his eyes when he came out of the darkness
into daylight, and saw the green forest, and the flowers, and
the birds, and the morning sun in the sky. He stood there and
wondered at everything just as if he were not quite right in the
head. His mother looked for the way home, and when they had
walked for a couple of hours, they got safely into their lonely
valley and to their little house. The father was sitting in the
doorway. He wept for joy when he recognized his wife and heard
that Hans was his son, for he had long regarded them both as
dead. But Hans, although he was not twelve years old, was a
head taller than his father. They went into the little room
together, but Hans had scarcely put his sack on the bench by
the stove, than the whole house began to crack - the bench broke
down and then the floor, and the heavy sack fell through into
the cellar. God save us, cried the father, what's that. Now
you have broken our little house to pieces. Don't let that turn
your hair grey, dear father, answered Hans. There, in that sack,
is more than is wanting for a new house. The father and Hans
at once began to build a new house, to buy cattle and land, and
to keep a farm. Hans ploughed the fields, and
when he followed the plough and pushed it into the ground, the
bullocks had scarcely any need to draw.
The next spring, Hans said, keep all the money and have made for
me a walking-stick that weighs a hundred-weight, that I may
go a-traveling. When the stick was ready, he left his father's
house, went forth, and came to a deep, dark forest. There he
heard something crunching and cracking, looked round, and saw
a fir-tree which was wound round like a rope from the bottom to
the top, and when he looked upwards he saw a great fellow who
had laid hold of the tree and was twisting it like a willow-wand.
Hullo, cried Hans, what are you doing up there. The fellow
replied, I got some faggots together yesterday and am twisting
a rope for them. That is what I like, thought Hans, he has some
strength, and he called to him, leave that alone, and come with
me. The fellow came down, and he was taller by a whole head than
Hans, and Hans was not little. Your name is now fir-twister,
said Hans to him. Thereupon they went further and heard something
knocking and hammering with such force that the ground shook
at every stroke. Shortly afterwards they came to a mighty rock,
before which a giant was standing and striking great pieces of
it away with his fist. When Hans asked what he was doing, he
answered, at night, when I want to sleep, bears, wolves, and
other vermin of that kind come, which sniff and snuffle about
me and won't let me rest, so I want to build myself a house and
lay myself inside it, so that I may have some peace. Oh indeed,
thought Hans, I can make use of this one also, and said to him,
leave your house-building alone, and go with me. You shall be
called rock-splitter. The man consented, and they all three
roamed through the forest, and wherever they went the wild beasts
were terrified, and ran away from them. In the evening they
came to an old deserted castle, went up into it, and
laid themselves down in the hall to sleep. The next morning Hans
went into the garden. It had run quite wild, and was full of
thorns and brambles. And as he was thus walking round about,
a wild boar rushed at him, he, however, gave it such a blow
with his club that it fell directly. He took it on his shoulders
and carried it
in, and they put it on a spit, roasted it, and enjoyed themselves.
Then they arranged that each day, in turn, two should go out
hunting, and one should stay at home, and cook nine pounds
of meat for each of them. Fir-twister stayed at home the first,
and Hans and rock-splitter went out hunting. When fir-twister
was busy cooking, a little shrivelled-up old mannikin came to him
in the castle, and asked for some meat. Be off, you sneaking
imp, he answered, you need no meat. But how astonished fir-twister
was when the little insignificant dwarf sprang up at him, and
belabored him so with his fists that he could not defend himself,
but fell on the ground and gasped for breath. The dwarf did
not go away until he had thoroughly vented his anger on him.
When the two others came home from hunting, fir-twister said
nothing to them of the old mannikin and of the blows which he
himself had received, and thought, when they stay at home, they
may just try their chance with the little scrubbing-brush, and
the mere thought of that gave him pleasure already.
The next day rock-splitter stayed at home, and he fared just
as fir-twister had done, being very ill-treated by the dwarf
because he was not willing to give him any meat. When the others
came home in the evening, fir-twister saw clearly what he had
suffered, but both kept silence, and thought, Hans also
must taste some of that soup.
Hans, who had to stay at home the next day, did his work in
the kitchen as it had to be done, and as he was standing
skimming the pan, the dwarf came and without more ado
demanded a piece of meat. Then Hans thought, he is a poor
wretch, I will give him some of my share, that the others may
not run short, and handed him a bit. When the dwarf had
devoured it, he again asked for some meat, and good-natured
Hans gave it to him, and told him it was a handsome piece,
and that he was to be content with it. But the dwarf begged
again for the third time. You are shameless, said Hans, and gave
him none. Then the malicious dwarf wanted to spring on him and
treat him as he had treated fir-twister and rock-splitter, but
he had chosen the wrong man. Hans, without
exerting himself much, gave him a couple of blows which made
him jump down the castle steps. Hans was about to run after him,
but fell right over, flat on his face. When he rose up again,
the dwarf had got the start of him. Hans hurried after him as far
as the forest, and saw him slip into a hole in the rock. Hans now
went home, but he had marked the spot. When the two others
came back, they were surprised that Hans was so well. He told
them what had happened, and then they no longer concealed how
it had fared with them. Hans laughed and said, it served you
quite right. Why were you so mean with your meat. It is a
disgrace that you who are so big should have let yourselves be
beaten by the dwarf. Thereupon they took a basket and a rope,
and all three went to the hole in the rock into which the
dwarf had slipped, and let Hans and his club
down in the basket. When Hans had reached the bottom, he found
a door, and when he opened it a maiden was sitting there
who was lovely as any picture, nay, so beautiful that no words
can express it, and by her side sat the dwarf and grinned at
Hans like a sea-cat. She, however, was bound with chains, and
looked so mournfully at him that Hans felt great pity for her,
and thought to himself, you must deliver her out of the power of
the wicked dwarf, and gave him such a blow with his club that he
fell down dead. Immediately the chains fell from
the maiden, and Hans was enraptured with her beauty. She told
him she was a king's daughter whom a savage count had stolen
away from her home, and imprisoned there among the rocks,
because she would have nothing to say to him. The count, however,
had set the dwarf as a watchman, and he had made her suffer
misery and vexation enough. And now Hans placed the maiden in the
basket and had her drawn up. The basket came down again, but
Hans did not trust his two companions, and thought, they have
already shown themselves to be false, and told me nothing about
the dwarf. Who knows what design they may have against me. So
he put his club in the basket, and it was lucky he did, for when
the basket was half-way up, they let it fall again, and if Hans
had really been sitting in it he would have been killed. But
now he did not know how he was to work his way out of the depths,
and when he turned it over and over in his mind he found no
counsel. It is indeed sad, said he to himself, that I have to
waste away down here, and as he was thus walking backwards and
forwards, he once more came to the little chamber where the maiden
had been sitting, and saw that the dwarf had a ring on his finger
which shone and sparkled. Then he drew it off and put it on, and
when he turned it round on his finger, he suddenly heard something
rustle over his head. He looked up and saw spirits of the air
hovering above, who told him he was their master, and asked
what his desire might be. Hans was at first struck dumb, but
afterwards he said that they were to carry him up again. They
obeyed instantly, and it was just as if he had flown up himself.
But when he had arrived there, he found no one in sight.
Fir-twister and rock-splitter
had hurried away, and had taken the beautiful maiden with them.
But Hans turned the ring, and the spirits of the air came and
told him that the two were on the sea. Hans ran and ran without
stopping, until he came to the sea-shore, and there far, far out
on the water, he perceived a little boat in which his faithless
comrades were sitting, and in fierce anger he leapt, without
thinking what he was doing, club in hand into the water, and
began to swim, but the club, which weighed a hundredweight,
dragged him deep down until he was all but drowned. Then
in the very nick of time he turned his ring, and immediately
the spirits of the air came and bore him as swift as lightning into
the boat. He swung his club and gave his wicked comrades the
reward they merited and threw them into the water, and then he
sailed with the beautiful maiden, who had been in the greatest
alarm, and whom he delivered for the second time, home to her
father and mother, and married her, and all rejoiced exceedingly.
There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he had
no daughter, however much he wished for one. At length his
wife again gave him hope of a child, and when it came into
the world it was a girl. The joy was great, but the child was
sickly and small, and had to be privately baptized on account of
its weakness. The father sent one of the boys in haste to the
spring to fetch water for the baptism. The other six went with
him, and as each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug
fell into the well. There they stood and did not know what to do,
and none of them dared to go home. As they still did not return,
the father grew impatient, and said, they have certainly forgotten
it while playing some game, the wicked boys. He became afraid that
the girl would have to die without being baptized, and in his
anger cried, I wish the boys were all turned into ravens. Hardly
was the word spoken before he heard a whirring of wings over his
head, looked up and saw seven coal-black ravens flying away.
The parents could not withdraw the curse, and however sad they
were at the loss of their seven sons, they still to some extent
comforted themselves with their dear little daughter, who soon
grew strong and every day became more beautiful. For a long time
she did not know that she had had brothers, for her parents were
careful not to mention them before her, but one day she
accidentally heard some people saying of herself, that the girl was
certainly beautiful, but that in reality she was to blame for the
misfortune which had befallen her seven brothers. Then she was much
troubled, and went to her father and mother and asked if it was
true that she had had brothers, and what had become of them. The
parents now dared keep the secret no longer, but said that what
had befallen her brothers was the will of heaven, and that her
birth had only been the innocent cause. But the maiden took it to
heart daily, and thought she must save her brothers. She had no
rest or peace until she set out secretly, and went forth into the
wide world to search for her brothers and set them free, let it
cost what it might. She took nothing with her but a little ring
belonging to her parents as a keepsake, a loaf of bread against
hunger, a little pitcher of water against thirst, and a little
chair as a provision against weariness.
And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of
the world. Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and
terrible, and devoured little children. Hastily she ran away, and
ran to the moon, but it was far too cold, and also awful and
malicious, and when it saw the child, it said, I smell, I smell
the flesh of men. At this she ran swiftly away, and came to the
stars, which were kind and good to her, and each of them sat on its
own particular little chair. But the morning star arose, and gave
her the drumstick of a chicken, and said, if you have not that
drumstick you can not open the glass mountain, and in the glass
mountain are your brothers.
The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a cloth,
and went onwards again until she came to the glass mountain. The
door was shut, and she thought she would take out the drumstick.
But when she undid the cloth, it was empty, and she had lost the
good star's present. What was she now to do. She wished to rescue
her brothers, and had no key to the glass mountain. The good
sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it in
the door, and succeeded in opening it. When she had gone inside, a
little dwarf came to meet her, who said, my child, what are you
looking for. I am looking for my brothers, the seven ravens, she
replied. The dwarf said, the lord ravens are not at home, but if
you will wait here until they come, step in. Thereupon the little
dwarf carried the ravens' dinner in, on seven little plates, and
in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a morsel from
each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip, but in the
last little glass she dropped the ring which she had brought away
with her.
Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing through
the air, and then the little dwarf said, now the lord ravens are
flying home. Then they came, and wanted to eat and drink, and
looked for their little plates and glasses. Then said one after
the other, who has eaten something from my plate. Who has drunk
out of my little glass. It was a human mouth. And when the
seventh came to the bottom of the glass, the ring rolled against
his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw that it was a ring
belonging to his father and mother, and said, God grant that our
sister may be here, and then we shall be free. When the maiden,
who was standing behind the door watching, heard that wish,
she came forth, and on this all the ravens were restored to their
human form again. And they embraced and kissed each other,
and went joyfully home.
There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little son,
and as he came into the world with a caul on, it was predicted
that in his fourteenth year he would have the king's daughter
for his wife. It happened that soon afterwards the king
came into the village, and no one knew that he was the king,
and when he asked the people what news there was, they answered,
a child has just been born with a caul on, whatever anyone so
born undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that
in his fourteenth year he will have the king's daughter for his
wife.
The king, who had a bad heart, and was angry about the prophecy,
went to the parents, and, seeming quite friendly, said, you poor
people, let me have your child, and I will take care of it. At
first they refused, but when the stranger offered them a large
amount of gold for it, and they thought, it is a child of good
fortune, and everything must turn out well for it, they at last
consented, and gave him the child.
The king put it in a box and rode away with it until he came to
a deep piece of water, then he threw the box into it and thought,
I have freed my daughter from her undesired suitor.
The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat, and not
a drop of water made its way into it. And it floated to within
two miles of the king's chief city, where there was a mill, and
it came to a halt at the mill-dam. A miller's boy, who by good
luck was standing there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook,
thinking that he had found a great treasure, but when he opened
it there lay a pretty boy inside, quite fresh and lively. He
took him to the miller and his wife, and as they had no children
they were glad, and said, "God has given him to us." They took
great care of the foundling, and he grew up in all goodness.
It happened that once in a storm, the king went into the mill, and
asked the mill-folk if the tall youth were their son. No,
answered they, he's a foundling. Fourteen years ago he floated
down to the mill-dam in a box, and the mill-boy pulled him out
of the water.
Then the king knew that it was none other than the child of
good fortune which he had thrown into the water, and he said,
my good people, could not the youth take a letter to the queen.
I will give him two gold pieces as a reward. Just as the king
commands, answered they, and they told the boy to hold himself
in readiness. Then the king wrote a letter to the queen, wherein
he said, as soon as the boy arrives with this letter, let him be
killed and buried, and all must be done before I come home.
The boy set out with this letter, but he lost his way, and in the
evening came to a large forest. In the darkness he saw a small
light, he went towards it and reached a cottage. When he went in,
an old woman was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started
when she saw the boy, and said, whence do you come, and whither
are you going. I come from the mill, he answered, and wish
to go to the queen, to whom I am taking a letter, but as I have
lost my way in the forest I should like to stay here over night.
You poor boy, said the woman, you have come into a den of thieves,
and when they come home they will kill you. Let them come,
said the boy, I am not afraid, but I am so tired that I cannot go
any farther. And he stretched himself upon a bench and fell
asleep.
Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked what strange
boy was lying there. Ah, said the old woman, it is an innocent
child who has lost himself in the forest, and out of pity I have
let him come in, he has to take a letter to the queen. The robbers
opened the letter and read it, and in it was written that the
boy as soon as he arrived should be put to death. Then the
hardhearted robbers felt pity, and their leader tore up the letter
and wrote another, saying, that as soon as the boy came, he should
be married at once to the king's daughter. Then they let him lie
quietly on the bench until the next morning, and when he awoke
they gave him the letter, and showed him the right way.
And the queen, when she had received the letter and read it,
did as was written in it, and had a splendid wedding-feast
prepared, and the king's daughter was married to the child of
good fortune, and as the youth was handsome and friendly she lived
with him in joy and contentment.
After some time the king returned to his palace and saw that
the prophecy was fulfilled, and the child married to his daughter.
How has that come to pass, said he, I gave quite another order
in my letter.
So the queen gave him the letter, and said that he might see for
himself what was written in it. The king read the letter and
saw quite well that it had been exchanged for the other. He
asked the youth what had become of the letter entrusted to him,
and why he had brought another instead of it. I know nothing
about it, answered he, it must have been changed in the night,
when I slept in the forest. The king said in a passion, you shall
not have everything quite so much your own way, whosoever marries
my daughter must fetch me from hell three golden hairs from
the head of the devil, bring me what I want, and you shall keep
my daughter. In this way the king hoped to be rid of him for ever.
But the child of good fortune answered, I will fetch the golden
hairs, I am not afraid of the devil. Whereupon he took leave of
them and began his journey.
The road led him to a large town, where the watchman by the gates
asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I know
everything, answered the child of good fortune. Then you can do us
a favor, said the watchman, if you will tell us why our market
fountain, which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no
longer gives even water. That you shall know, answered he, only
wait until I come back.
Then he went farther and came to another town, and there also the
gatekeeper asked him what was his trade, and what he knew.
I know everything, answered he. Then you can do us a favor and
tell us why a tree in our town which once bore golden apples now
does not even put forth leaves. You shall know that, answered he,
only wait until I come back.
Then he went on and came to a wide river over which he must cross.
The ferryman asked him what his trade was, and what he knew. I
know everything, answered he. Then you can do me a favor, said
the ferryman, and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards
and forwards, and am never set free. You shall know that,
answered he, only wait until I come back.
When he had crossed the water he found the entrance to hell. It
was black and sooty within, and the devil was not at home, but
his grandmother was sitting in a large arm-chair. What do you
want, said she to him, but she did not look so very wicked. I
should like to have three golden hairs from the devil's head,
answered he, else I cannot keep my wife. That is a good deal
to ask for, said she, if the devil comes home and finds you, it
will cost you your life, but as I pity you, I will see if I cannot
help you.
She changed him into an ant and said, creep into the folds of my
dress, you will be safe there. Yes, answered he, so far, so good,
but there are three things besides that I want to know - why a
fountain which once flowed with wine has become dry, and no
longer gives even water, why a tree which once bore golden apples
does not even put forth leaves, and why a ferryman must always be
going backwards and forwards, and is never set free.
Those are difficult questions, answered she, but just be silent
and quiet and pay attention to what the devil says when I pull out
the three golden hairs.
As the evening came on, the devil returned home. No sooner had he
entered than he noticed that the air was not pure. I smell man's
flesh, said he, all is not right here. Then he pried into
every corner, and searched, but could not find anything. His
grandmother scolded him. It has just been swept, said she, and
everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it again, you
have always got man's flesh in your nose. Sit down and eat your
supper.
When he had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid his head in
his grandmother's lap, and told her she should louse him a little.
It was not long before he was fast asleep, snoring and breathing
heavily. Then the old woman took hold of a golden hair, pulled
it out, and laid it down beside her. Oh, cried the devil,
what are you doing. I have had a bad dream, answered the
grandmother, so I seized hold of your hair. What did you dream
then, said the devil. I dreamt that a fountain in a market-place
from which wine once flowed was dried up, and not even water
would flow out of it - what is the cause of it. Oh, ho, if they
did but know it, answered the devil, there is a toad sitting
under a stone in the well - if they killed it, the wine would flow
again.
The grandmother loused him again until he went to sleep and
snored so that the windows shook. Then she pulled the second hair
out. Ha, what are you doing, cried the devil angrily. Do not
take it ill, said she, I did it in a dream. What have you dreamt
this time, asked he. I dreamt that in a certain kingdom there
stood an apple-tree which had once borne golden apples, but now
would not even bear leaves. What, think you, was the reason.
Oh, if they did but know, answered the devil. A mouse is
gnawing at the root - if they killed it they would have golden
apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will wither
altogether. But I have had enough of your dreams, if you disturb
me in my sleep again you will get a box on the ear.
The grandmother spoke gently to him and picked his lice once
more until he fell asleep and snored. Then she took hold of the
third golden hair and pulled it out. The devil jumped up,
roared out, and would have treated her ill if she had not
quieted him again and said, who can help bad dreams. What
was the dream, then, asked he, and was quite curious. I dreamt
of a ferryman who complained that he must always ferry from
one side to the other, and was never released. What is the
cause of it. Ah, the fool, answered the devil, when anyone
comes and wants to go across he must put the oar in his hand,
and the other man will have
to ferry and he will be free. As the grandmother had plucked
out the three golden hairs, and the three questions were
answered, she let the old devil alone, and he slept until
daybreak.
When the devil had gone out again the old woman took the ant
out of the folds of her dress, and gave the child of good
fortune his human shape again. There are the three golden
hairs for you, said she. What the devil said to your three
questions, I suppose you heard. Yes, answered he, I heard, and
will take care to remember. You have what you want, said she,
and now you can go your way. He thanked the old woman for
helping him in his need, and left hell well content that
everything had turned out so fortunately.
When he came to the ferryman he was expected to give the
promised answer. Ferry me across first, said the child of good
fortune, and then I will tell you how you can be set free, and
when he reached the opposite shore he gave him the devil's advice.
Next time anyone comes, who wants to be ferried over, just put the
oar in his hand.
He went on and came to the town wherein stood the unfruitful
tree, and there too the watchman wanted an answer. So he
told him what he had heard from the devil. Kill the mouse
which is gnawing at its root, and it will again bear golden
apples. Then the watchman thanked him, and gave him as a reward
two asses laden with gold, which followed him.
Finally, he came to the town whose well was dry. He told the
watchman what the devil had said, a toad is in the well beneath
a stone, you must find it and kill it, and the well will again
give wine in plenty. The watchman thanked him, and also
gave him two asses laden with gold.
At last the child of good fortune got home to his wife, who
was heartily glad to see him again, and to hear how well he had
prospered in everything. To the king he took what he had asked
for, the devil's three golden hairs, and when the king saw the
four asses laden with gold he was quite content, and said, now
all the conditions are fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter.
But tell
me, dear son-in-law, where did all that gold come from - this
is tremendous wealth. I was rowed across a river, answered he,
and got it there, it lies on the shore instead of sand. Can I
too fetch some of it, said the king, and he was quite eager
about it. As much as you like, answered he. There is a
ferryman on the river, let him ferry you over, and you can fill
your sacks on the other side. The greedy king set out in all
haste, and when he came to the river he beckoned to the ferryman
to put him across. The ferryman came and bade him get in,
and when they got to the other shore he put the oar in his
hand and sprang over. But from this time forth the king had to
ferry, as a punishment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying
still. If he is, it is because no one has taken the oar from
him.
In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king
whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful
that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever
it shone in her face. Close by the king's castle lay a great dark
forest, and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and when
the day was very warm, the king's child went out into the forest and
sat down by the side of the cool fountain, and when she was bored she
took a golden ball, and threw it up on high and caught it, and this
ball was her favorite plaything.
Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess's golden ball
did not fall into the little hand which she was holding up for it,
but on to the ground beyond, and rolled straight into the water. The
king's daughter followed it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the
well was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. At this
she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and could not be
comforted. And as she thus lamented someone said to her, "What ails
you, king's daughter? You weep so that even a stone would show pity."
She looked round to the side from whence the voice came, and saw a
frog stretching forth its big, ugly head from the water. "Ah, old
water-splasher, is it you," she said, "I am weeping for my golden ball,
which has fallen into the well." "Be quiet, and do not weep," answered
the frog, "I can help you, but what will you give me if I bring your
plaything up again?" "Whatever you will have, dear frog," said she, "My
clothes, my pearls and jewels, and even the golden crown which I am
wearing." The frog answered, "I do not care for your clothes, your
pearls and jewels, nor for your golden crown, but if you will love me
and let me be your companion and play-fellow, and sit by you at your
little table, and eat off your little golden plate, and drink out of
your little cup, and sleep in your little bed - if you will promise
me this I will go down below, and bring you your golden ball up
again."
"Oh yes," said she, "I promise you all you wish, if you will but bring
me my ball back again." But she thought, "How the silly frog does
talk. All he does is to sit in the water with the other frogs, and
croak. He can be no companion to any human being."
But the frog when he had received this promise, put his head into the
water and sank down; and in a short while came swimmming up again
with the ball in his mouth, and threw it on the grass. The king's
daughter was delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and
picked it up, and ran away with it. "Wait, wait," said the frog. "Take
me with you. I can't run as you can." But what did it avail him to
scream his croak, croak, after her, as loudly as he could. She did
not listen to it, but ran home and soon forgot the poor frog, who was
forced to go back into his well again.
The next day when she had seated herself at table with the king and
all the courtiers, and was eating from her little golden plate,
something came creeping splish splash, splish splash, up the marble
staircase, and when it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and
cried, "Princess, youngest princess, open the door for me." She ran to
see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog
in front of it. Then she slammed the door to, in great haste, sat
down to dinner again, and was quite frightened. The king saw plainly
that her heart was beating violently, and said, "My child, what are
you so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside who wants to
carry you away?" "Ah, no," replied she. "It is no giant but a disgusting
frog."
"What does a frog want with you?" "Ah, dear father, yesterday as I was
in the forest sitting by the well, playing, my golden ball fell into
the water. And because I cried so, the frog brought it out again for
me, and because he so insisted, I promised him he should be my
companion, but I never thought he would be able to come out of his
water. And now he is outside there, and wants to come in to me."
In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried, "Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me, do you not know what you
said to me yesterday by the cool waters of the well. Princess,
youngest princess, open the door for me."
Then said the king, "That which you have promised must you perform.
Go and let him in." She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped
in and followed her, step by step, to her chair. There he sat and
cried, "Lift me up beside you." She delayed, until at last the king
commanded her to do it. Once the frog was on the chair he wanted to
be on the table, and when he was on the table he said, "Now, push your
little golden plate nearer to me that we may eat together." She did
this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The
frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked
her. At length he said, "I have eaten and am satisfied, now I am
tired, carry me into your little room and make your little silken bed
ready, and we will both lie down and go to sleep."
The king's daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of the cold frog
which she did not like to touch, and which was now to sleep in her
pretty, clean little bed. But the king grew angry and said, "He who
helped you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards to be
despised by you." So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner, but when she was in
bed he crept to her and said, "I am tired, I want to sleep as well as
you, lift me up or I will tell your father." At this she was terribly
angry, and took him up and threw him with all her might against the
wall. "Now, will you be quiet, odious frog," said she. But when he
fell down he was no frog but a king's son with kind and beautiful
eyes. He by her father's will was now her dear companion and
husband. Then he told her how he had been bewitched by a wicked
witch, and how no one could have delivered him from the well but
herself, and that to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom.
Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun awoke them, a
carriage came driving up with eight white horses, which had white
ostrich feathers on their heads, and were harnessed with golden
chains, and behind stood the young king's servant Faithful Henry.
Faithful Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed into a
frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid round his heart,
lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to
conduct the young king into his kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them
both in, and placed himself behind again, and was full of joy because
of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part of the way the
king's son heard a cracking behind him as if something had broken.
So he turned round and cried, "Henry, the carriage is breaking."
"No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from my heart,
which was put there in my great pain when you were a frog and
imprisoned in the well." Again and once again while they were on
their way something cracked, and each time the king's son thought the
carriage was breaking, but it was only the bands which were springing
from the heart of Faithful Henry because his master was set free and
was happy.
There was once upon a time an old goat who had seven little kids, and
loved them with all the love of a mother for her children. One day
she wanted to go into the forest and fetch some food. So she called
all seven to her and said, dear children, I have to go into the
forest, be on your guard against the wolf, if he comes in, he will
devour you all - skin, hair, and everything. The wretch often
disguises himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice
and his black feet. The kids said, dear mother, we will take good
care of ourselves, you may go away without any anxiety. Then the old
one bleated, and went on her way with an easy mind.
It was not long before some one knocked at the house-door and called,
open the door, dear children, your mother is here, and has brought
something back with her for each of you. But the little kids knew
that it was the wolf, by the rough voice. We will not open the door,
cried they, you are not our mother. She has a soft, pleasant voice,
but your voice is rough, you are the wolf. Then the wolf went away
to a shopkeeper and bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this
and made his voice soft with it. The he came back, knocked at the
door of the house, and called, open the door, dear children, your
mother is here and has brought something back with her for each of
you. But the wolf had laid his black paws against the window, and
the children saw them and cried, we will not open the door, our
mother has not black feet like you, you are the wolf. Then the wolf
ran to a baker and said, I have hurt my feet, rub some dough over
them for me. And when the baker had rubbed his feet over, he ran to
the miller and said, strew some white meal over my feet for me. The
miller thought to himself, the wolf wants to deceive someone, and
refused, but the wolf said, if you will not do it, I will devour you.
Then the miller was afraid, and made his paws white for him. Truly,
this the way of mankind.
So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-door, knocked
at it and said, open the door for me, children, your dear little
mother has come home, and has brought every one of you something back
from the forest with her. The little kids cried, first show us your
paws that we may know if you are our dear little mother. Then he put
his paws in through the window, and when the kids saw that they were
white, they believed that all he said was true, and opened the door.
But who should come in but the wolf they were terrified and wanted to
hide themselves. One sprang under the table, the second into the
bed, the third into the stove, the fourth into the kitchen, the fifth
into the cupboard, the sixth under the washing-bowl, and the seventh
into the clock-case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great
ceremony, one after the other he swallowed them down his throat. The
youngest, who was in the clock-case, was the only one he did not
find. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite he took himself off,
laid himself down under a tree in the green meadow outside, and began
to sleep. Soon afterwards the old goat came home again from the
forest. Ah. What a sight she saw there. The house-door stood wide
open. The table, chairs, and benches were thrown down, the
washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts and pillows were
pulled off the bed. She sought her children, but they were nowhere
to be found. She called them one after another by name, but no one
answered. At last, when she caame to the youngest, a soft voice
cried, dear mother, I am in the clock-case. She took the kid out,
and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all the others.
Then you may imagine how she wept over her poor children.
At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest kid ran with
her. When they came to the meadow, there lay the wolf by the tree
and snored so loud that the branches shook. She looked at him on
every side and saw that something was moving and struggling in his
gorged belly. Ah, heavens, she said, is it possible that my poor
children whom he has swallowed down for his supper, can be still
alive. Then the kid had to run home and fetch scissors, and a needle
and thread and the goat cut open the monster's stomach, and hardly
had she make one cut, than one little kid thrust its head out, and
when she cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were
all still alive, and had suffered no injury whatever, for in his
greediness the monster had swallowed them down whole. What rejoicing
there was. They embraced their dear mother, and jumped like a sailor
at his wedding. The mother, however, said, now go and look for some
big stones, and we will fill the wicked beast's stomach with them
while he is still asleep. Then the seven kids dragged the stones
thither with all speed, and put as many of them into his stomach as
they could get in, and the mother sewed him up again in the greatest
haste, so that he was not aware of anything and never once stirred.
When the wolf at length had had his fill of sleep, he got on his
legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very thirsty, he
wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he began to walk and move
about, the stones in his stomach knocked against each other and
rattled. Then cried he, what rumbles and tumbles against my poor
bones. I thought 'twas six kids, but it feels like big stones. And
when he got to the well and stooped over the water to drink, the
heavy stones made him fall in, and he had to drown miserably. When
the seven kids saw that, they came running to the spot and cried
aloud, the wolf is dead. The wolf is dead, and danced for joy round
about the well with their mother.
There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening by the
hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and spun. Then
said he, how sad it is that we have no children. With us all
is so quiet, and in other houses it is noisy and lively.
Yes, replied the wife, and sighed, even if we had only one,
and it were quite small, and only as big as a thumb, I should be
quite satisfied, and we would still love it with all our hearts.
Now it so happened that the woman fell ill, and after seven
months gave birth to a child, that was perfect in all its limbs,
but no longer than a thumb. Then said they, it is as we wished
it to be, and it shall be our dear child. And because of its
size, they called it thumbling. Though they did not let it want
for food, the child did not grow taller, but remained as it had
been at the first. Nevertheless it looked sensibly out of its
eyes, and soon showed itself to be a wise and nimble creature,
for everything it did turned out well.
One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the forest to
cut wood, when he said as if to himself, how I wish that there
was someone who would bring the cart to me. Oh father, cried
thumbling, I will soon bring the cart, rely on that. It shall
be in the forest at the appointed time. The man smiled and
said, how can that be done, you are far too small to lead the
horse by the reins. That's of no consequence, father, if my
mother will only harness it, I shall sit in the horse's ear
and call out to him how he is to go. Well, answered the man,
for once we will try it.
When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse, and placed
thumbling in its ear, and then the little creature cried, gee
up, gee up.
Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and the cart
went the right way into the forest. It so happened that just
as he was turning a corner, and the little one was crying, gee
up, two strange men came towards him. My word, said one of them,
what is this. There is a cart coming, and a driver is calling to
the horse and still he is not to be seen. That can't be right,
said the other, we will follow the cart and see where it stops. The
cart, however, drove right into the forest, and exactly to the
place where the wood had been cut. When thumbling saw his
father, he cried to him, do you see, father, here I am with the
cart, now take me down. The father got hold of the horse with
his left hand and with the right took his little son out of the
ear. Thumbling sat down quite merrily on a straw, but when the
two strange men
saw him, they did not know what to say for
astonishment. Then one of them took the other aside and said,
listen, the little fellow would make our fortune if we exhibited
him in a large town, for money. We will buy him. They went to
the peasant and said, sell us the little man. He shall be well
treated with us. No, replied the father, he is the apple of my
eye, and all the money in the world cannot buy him from me.
Thumbling, however, when he heard of the bargain, had crept up
the folds of his father's coat, placed himself on his shoulder,
and whispered in his ear, father do give me away, I will soon
come back again. Then the father parted with him to the two
men for a handsome sum of money. Where will you sit, they
said to him. Oh just set me on the rim of your hat, and then I
can walk backwards and forwards and look at the country, and
still not fall down. They did as he wished, and when thumbling
had taken leave of his father, they went away with him. They
walked until it was dusk, and then the little fellow said,
do take me down, it is necessary. Just stay up there, said the
man on whose hat he sat, it makes no difference to me. The birds
sometimes let things fall on me. No, said thumbling, I
know what's manners, take me quickly down. The man took his hat
off, and put the little fellow on the ground by the wayside, and
he leapt and crept about a little between the sods, and then he
suddenly slipped into a mousehole which he had sought out.
Good evening, gentlemen, just go home without me, he cried to
them, and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their sticks
into the mousehole, but it was all in vain. Thumbling crept
still farther in, and as it soon became quite
dark, they were forced to go home with their vexation and
their empty purses.
When thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept back out of the
subterranean passage. It is so dangerous to walk on the ground
in the dark, said he, how easily a neck or a leg is broken.
Fortunately he stumbled against an empty snail-shell. Thank God,
said he, in that I can pass the night in safety. And got into it.
Not long afterwards, when he was just going to sleep, he heard two
men go by, and one of them was saying, how shall we set about
getting hold of the rich pastor's silver and gold. I could tell
you that, cried thumbling, interrupting them. What was that, said
one of the thieves in fright, I heard someone speaking. They stood
still listening, and thumbling spoke again, and said, take
me with you, and I'll help you.
But where are you. Just look on the ground, and observe from
whence my voice comes, he replied. There the thieves at length
found him, and lifted him up. You little imp, how will you help
us, they said. Listen, said he, I will creep into the pastor's
room through the iron bars, and will reach out to you whatever
you want to have. Come then, they said, and we will see what you
can do. When they got to the pastor's house, thumbling crept into
the room, but instantly cried out with all his might, do you want
to have everything that is here. The thieves were alarmed, and
said, but do speak softly, so as not to waken any one. Thumbling
however, behaved as if he had not understood this, and cried
again, what do you want. Do you want to have everything that is
here. The cook, who slept in the next room, heard this and sat up
in bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had in their fright
run some distance away, but at last they took courage, and
thought, the little rascal wants to mock us. They came back and
whispered to him, come be serious, and reach something out to us.
Then thumbling again cried as loudly as he could, I really will
give you everything, just put your hands in. The maid who was
listening, heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed
and rushed to the door. The thieves took flight, and ran as if
the wild huntsman
were behind them, but as the maid could not see
anything, she went to strike a light. When she came to the
place with it, thumbling, unperceived, betook himself to the
granary, and the maid after she had examined every corner and
found nothing, lay down in her bed again, and believed that,
after all, she had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.
Thumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a beautiful
place to sleep in. There he intended to rest until day, and
then go home again to his parents. But there were other things in
store for him. Truly, there is much worry and affliction in
this world. When the day dawned, the maid arose from her bed to
feed the cows. Her first walk was into the barn, where she laid
hold of an armful of hay, and precisely that very one in which
poor thumbling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so
soundly that he was aware of nothing, and did not awake until he
was in the mouth of the cow, who had picked him up with the hay.
Ah, heavens, cried he, how have I got into the fulling mill. But
he soon discovered where he was. Then he had to take care not to
let himself go between the teeth and be dismembered, but he was
subsequently forced to slip down into the stomach with the hay.
In this little room the windows are forgotten, said he, and no
sun shines in, neither will a candle be brought. His quarters
were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was that more
and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew
less and less. When at length in his anguish, he cried as
loud as he could, bring me no more fodder, bring me no more
fodder. The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard
some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived that it was the
same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so
terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk.
She ran in great haste to her master, and said, oh heavens,
pastor, the cow has been speaking. You are mad, replied the
pastor, but he went himself to the byre to see what was there.
Hardly, however had he set his foot inside when thumbling again
cried, bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder. Then
the pastor himself was alarmed, and thought that an evil
spirit had gone into the cow, and ordered her to be killed. She was
killed, but the stomach, in which thumbling was, was thrown on
the dunghill. Thumbling had great difficulty in working his
way out. However, he succeeded so far as to get some room, but
just as he was going to thrust his head out, a new misfortune
occurred. A hungry wolf ran thither, and swallowed the whole
stomach at one gulp. Thumbling did not lose courage. Perhaps,
thought he, the wolf will listen to what I have got to say. And
he called to him from out of his belly, dear wolf, I know of a
magnificent feast for you.
Where is it to be had, said the wolf.
In such and such a house. You must creep into it through the
kitchen-sink, and will find cakes, and bacon, and sausages, and
as much of them as you can eat. And he described to him exactly
his father's house. The wolf did not require to be told this
twice, squeezed himself in at night through the sink, and ate to
his heart's content in the larder. When he had eaten his fill,
he wanted to go out again, but he had become so big that he could
not go out by the same way. Thumbling had reckoned on this, and
now began to make a violent noise in the wolf's body, and raged
and screamed as loudly as he could. Will you be quiet, said the
wolf, you will waken up the people. What do I care, replied the
little fellow, you have eaten your fill, and I will make merry
likewise. And began once more to scream with all his strength.
At last his father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to the
room and looked in through the opening in the door. When they
saw that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and teh husband
fetched his axe, and the wife the scythe. Stay behind, said the
man, when they entered the room. When I have given the blow, if
he is not killed by it, you must cut him down and hew his body
to pieces. Then thumbling heard his parents, voices and cried,
dear father, I am here, I am in the wolf's body. Said the father,
full of joy, thank God, our dear child has found us again. And
bade the
woman take away her scythe, that thumbling might not be hurt
with it. After that he raised his arm, and struck the wolf
such a blow on his head that he fell down
dead, and then they got knives and scissors and cut his body open
and drew the little fellow forth.
Ah, said the father, what sorrow we have gone through for your
sake. Yes father, I have gone about the world a great deal.
Thank heaven, I breathe fresh air again. Where have you been,
then. Ah, father, I have been in a mouse's hole, in a cow's
belly, and then in a wolf's paunch. Now I will stay with you.
And we will not sell you again, no not for all the riches in
the world, said his parents, and they embraced and kissed their
dear thumbling. They gave him to eat and to drink, and had
some new clothes made for him, for his own had been spoiled
on his journey.
One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his table
by the window, he was in good spirits, and sewed with all his
might. Then came a peasant woman down the street crying, good
jams, cheap. Good jams, cheap. This rang pleasantly in the
tailor's ears, he stretched his delicate head out of the
window, and called, come up here, dear woman, here you will get
rid of your goods. The woman came up the three steps to the
tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack all the pots
for him. He inspected each one, lifted it up, put his nose to it,
and at length said, the jam seems to me to be good, so weigh me
out four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of a pound
that is of no consequence. The woman who had hoped to find a
good sale, gave him what he desired, but went away quite angry
and grumbling. Now, this jam shall be blessed by God, cried the
little tailor, and give me health and strength. So he brought
the bread out of the cupboard, cut himself a piece right across
the loaf and spread the jam over it. This won't taste bitter,
said he, but I will just finish the jacket before I take a bite.
He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his joy, made bigger
and bigger stitches. In the meantime the smell of the sweet jam
rose to where the flies were sitting in great numbers, and they
were attracted and descended on it in hosts. HI, who invited you,
said the little tailor, and drove the unbidden guests away. The
flies, however, who understood no german, would not be turned
away, but came back again in ever-increasing companies. The
little tailor at last lost all patience,
and drew a piece of cloth from the hole under his work-table, and
saying, wait, and I will give it to you, struck it mercilessly
on them. When he drew it away and counted, there lay before him
no fewer than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. Are you a
fellow of that sort, said he, and could not help admiring his own
bravery. The whole town shall know of this. And the little tailor
hastened to cut himself a girdle, stitched it, and embroidered on
it in large letters, seven at one stroke. What, the town, he
continued, the whole world shall hear of it. And his heart
wagged with joy like a lamb's tail. The tailor put on the girdle,
and resolved to go forth into the world, because he thought his
workshop was too small for his valor. Before he went away, he
sought about in the house to see if there was anything which he
could take with him, however, he found nothing but an old cheese,
and that he put in his pocket. In front of the door he observed a
bird which had caught itself in the thicket. It had to go into his
pocket with the cheese. Now he took to the road boldly, and as he
was light and nimble, he felt no fatigue. The road led him up a
mountain, and when he had reached the highest point of it, there
sat a powerful giant looking peacefully about him. The little
tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said, good day, comrade,
so you are sitting there overlooking the wide-spread world. I am
just on my way thither, and want to try my luck. Have you any
inclination to go with me. The giant looked contemptuously at the
tailor, and said, you ragamuffin. You miserable creature.
Oh, indeed, answered the little tailor, and unbuttoned his coat,
and showed the giant the girdle, there may you read what kind of
a man I am. The giant read, seven at one stroke. And thought
that they had been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to
feel a little respect for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he
wished to try him first, and took a stone in his hand and
squeezed it together so that water dropped out of it. Do that
likewise, said the giant, if you have strength. Is that all, said
the tailor, that is child's play with us, and put his hand into his
pocket, brought out the soft cheese, and pressed it until the
liquid ran out
of it. Faith, said he, that was a little better, wasn't it. The
giant did not know what to say, and could not believe it of the
little man. Then the giant picked up a stone and threw it so high
that the eye could scarcely follow it. Now, little mite of a man,
do that likewise. Well thrown, said the tailor, but after all the
stone came down to earth again, I will throw you one which shall
never come back at all. And he put his hand into his pocket,
took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The bird,
delighted with its liberty, rose, flew away and did not come
back. How does that shot please you, comrade, asked the tailor.
You can certainly throw, said the giant, but now we will see if
you are able to carry anything properly. He took the little
tailor to a mighty oak tree which lay there felled on the ground,
and said, if you are strong enough, help me to carry the tree out
of the forest. Readily, answered the little man, take the trunk
on your shoulders, and I will raise up the branches and twigs,
after all, they are the heaviest. The giant took the trunk on
his shoulder, but the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the
giant who could not look round, had to carry away the whole tree,
and the little tailor into the bargain, he behind, was quite
merry and happy, and whistled the song, three tailors rode forth
from the gate, as if carrying the tree were child's play. The
giant, after he had dragged the heavy burden part of the way,
could go no further, and cried, hark you, I shall have to let the
tree fall. The tailor sprang nimbly down, seized the tree with
both arms as if he had been carrying it, and said to the giant,
you are such a great fellow, and yet can not even carry the tree.
They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-tree, the giant
laid hold of the top of the tree where the ripest fruit was
hanging, bent it down, gave it into the tailor's hand, and bade
him eat. But the little tailor was much too weak to hold the
tree, and when the giant let it go, it sprang back again, and the
tailor was tossed into the air with it. When he had fallen down
again without injury, the giant said, what is this. Have you
not strength enough to hold the weak twig. There is no lack of
strength, answered the little tailor. Do you think that could be
anything to a man who has
struck down seven at one blow. I leapt over the tree because the
huntsmen are shooting down there in the thicket. Jump as I did,
if you can do it. The giant made the attempt, but could not get
over the tree, and remained hanging in the branches, so that in
this also the tailor kept the upper hand.
The giant said, if you are such a valiant fellow, come with me
into our cavern and spend the night with us. The little tailor
was willing, and followed him. When they went into the cave,
other giants were sitting there by the fire, and each of them
had a roasted sheep in his hand and was eating it. The little
tailor looked round and thought, it is much more spacious here
than in my workshop. The giant showed him a bed, and said he was
to lie down in it and sleep. The bed, however, was too big for
the little tailor, he did not lie down in it, but crept into a
corner. When it was midnight, and the giant thought that the
little tailor was lying in a sound sleep, he got up, took a great
iron bar, cut through the bed with one blow, and thought he had
finished off the grasshopper for good. With the earliest dawn
the giants went into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little
tailor, when all at once he walked up to them quite merrily
and boldly. The giants were terrified, they were afraid that he
would strike them all dead, and ran away in a great hurry.
The little tailor went onwards, always following his own
pointed nose. After he had walked for a long time, he came to the
courtyard of a royal palace, and as he felt weary, he lay down
on the grass and fell asleep. Whilst he lay there, the people
came and inspected him on all sides, and read on his girdle,
seven at one stroke. Ah, said they, what does the great warrior
here in the midst of peace. He must be a mighty lord. They went
and announced him to the king, and gave it as their opinion that
if war should break out, this would be a weighty and useful man
who ought on no account to be allowed to depart. The counsel
pleased the king, and he sent one of his courtiers to the little
tailor to offer him military service when he awoke. The
ambassador remained standing by the sleeper, waited until he
stretched his limbs and
opened his eyes, and then conveyed to him this proposal. For this
reason have I come here, the tailor replied, I am ready to enter
the king's service. He was therefore honorably received and a
special dwelling was assigned him.
The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor, and
wished him a thousand miles away. What is to be the end of this,
they said among themselves. If we quarrel with him, and he strikes
about him, seven of us will fall at every blow, not one of
us can stand against him. They came therefore to a decision,
betook themselves in a body to the king, and begged for their
dismissal. We are not prepared, said they, to stay with a man
who kills seven at one stroke. The king was sorry that for the
sake of one he should lose all his faithful servants, wished that
he had never set eyes on the tailor, and would willingly have
been rid of him again. But he did not venture to give him his
dismissal, for he dreaded lest he should strike him and all his
people dead, and place himself on the royal throne. He thought
about it for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He
sent to the little tailor and caused him to be informed that as
he was such a great warrior, he had one request to make of him.
In a forest of his country lived two giants who caused great
mischief with their robbing, murdering, ravaging, and burning,
and no one could approach them without putting himself in danger
of death. If the tailor conquered and killed these two giants,
he would give him his only daughter to wife, and half of his
kingdom as a dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen should go with
him to assist him. That would indeed be a fine thing for a man
like me, thought the little tailor. One is not offered a
beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day of one's life.
Oh, yes, he replied, I will soon subdue the giants, and do not
require the help of the hundred horsemen to do it, he who can
hit seven with one blow has no need to be afraid of two.
The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen followed
him. When he came to the outskirts of the forest, he said to
his followers, just stay waiting here, I alone will soon finish
off the giants. Then he bounded into the forest and looked about
right and left. After a while he perceived both giants. They lay
sleeping under a tree, and snored so that the branches waved up
and down. The little tailor, not idle, gathered two pocketsful
of stones, and with these climbed up the tree. When he was
half-way up, he slipped down by a branch, until he sat just above
the sleepers, and then let one stone after another fall on the
breast of one of the giants. For a long time the giant felt
nothing, but at last he awoke, pushed his comrade, and said, why
are you knocking me. You must be dreaming, said the other, I am
not knocking you. They laid themselves down to sleep again, and
then the tailor threw a stone down on the second. What is the
meaning of this, cried the other. Why are you pelting me. I am
not pelting you, answered the first, growling. They disputed
about it for a time, but as they were weary they let the matter
rest, and their eyes closed once more. The little tailor began
his game again, picked out the biggest stone, and threw it with
all his might on the breast of the first giant. That is too
bad, cried he, and sprang up like a madman, and pushed his
companion against the tree until it shook. The other paid him
back in the same coin, and they got into such a rage that they
tore up trees and belabored each other so long, that at last they
both fell down dead on the ground at the same time. Then the
little tailor leapt down. It is a lucky thing, said he, that
they did not tear up the tree on which I was sitting, or I should
have had to spring on to another like a squirrel, but we tailors
are nimble. He drew out his sword and gave each of them a couple
of thrusts in the breast, and then went out to the horsemen and
said, the work is done, I have finished both of them off, but it
was hard work. They tore up trees in their sore need, and
defended themselves with them, but all that is to no purpose
when a man like myself comes, who can kill seven at one blow.
But you are not wounded, asked the horsemen. You need not
concern yourself about that, answered the tailor, they have not
bent one hair of mine. The horsemen would not believe him, and
rode into the forest, there they found the giants swimming in their
blood, and all round about lay the torn-up trees.
The little tailor demanded of the king the promised reward. He,
however, repented of his promise, and again bethought himself how
he could get rid of the hero. Before you receive my daughter,
and the half of my kingdom, said he to him, you must perform one
more heroic deed. In the forest roams a unicorn which does great
harm, and you must catch it first. I fear one unicorn still
less than two giants. Seven at one blow, is my kind of affair.
He took a rope and an axe with him, went forth into the forest,
and again bade those who were sent with him to wait outside. He
had not long to seek. The unicorn soon came towards him, and
rushed directly on the tailor, as if it would gore him with its
horn without more ado. Softly, softly, it can't be done as
quickly as that, said he, and stood still and waited until the
animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly behind the tree.
The unicorn ran against the tree with all its strength, and
struck its horn so fast in the trunk that it had not strength
enough to draw it out again, and thus it was caught. Now, I have
got the bird, said the tailor, and came out from behind the tree
and put the rope round its neck, and then with his axe he hewed
the horn out of the tree, and when all was ready he led the beast
away and took it to the king.
The king still would not give him the promised reward, and made
a third demand. Before the wedding the tailor was to catch him a
wild boar that made great havoc in the forest, and the huntsmen
should give him their help. Willingly, said the tailor, that is
child's play. He did not take the huntsmen with him into the
forest, and they were well pleased that he did not, for the wild
boar had several times received them in such a manner that they
had no inclination to lie in wait for him. When the boar
perceived the tailor, it ran on him with foaming mouth and
whetted tusks, and was about to throw him to the ground, but the
hero fled and sprang into a chapel which was near, and up to the
window at once, and in one bound out again. The boar ran in
after him, but the tailor ran round outside and shut the door
behind it, and then the raging beast, which was much too heavy
and awkward to leap out of the window, was caught. The little
tailor called the huntsmen thither
that they might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero,
however went to the king, who was now, whether he liked it or
not, obliged to keep his promise, and gave him his daughter and
the half of his kingdom. Had he known that it was no warlike
hero, but a little tailor who was standing before him it would
have gone to his heart still more than it did. The wedding was
held with great magnificence and small joy, and out of a
tailor a king was made.
After some time the young queen heard her husband say in his
dreams at night, boy, make me the doublet, and patch the
pantaloons, or else I will rap the yard-measure over your ears.
Then she discovered in what state of life the young lord had been
born, and next morning complained of her wrongs to her father, and
begged him to help her to get rid of her husband, who was
nothing else but a tailor. The king comforted her and said,
leave your bedroom door open this night, and my servants shall
stand outside, and when he has fallen asleep shall go in, bind
him, and take him on board a ship which shall carry him into the
wide world. The woman was satisfied with this, but the king's
armor-bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young
lord, and informed him of the whole plot. I'll put a screw into
that business, said the little tailor. At night he went to bed
with his wife at the usual time, and when she thought that he
had fallen asleep, she got up, opened the door, and then lay down
again. The little tailor, who was only pretending to be asleep,
began to cry out in a clear voice, boy, make me the doublet and
patch me the pantaloons, or I will rap the yard-measure over
your ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I
brought away one unicorn and caught a wild boar, and am I to
fear those who are standing outside the room. When these men
heard the tailor speaking thus, they were overcome by a great
dread, and ran as if the wild huntsman were behind them, and none
of them would venture anything further against him. So the little
tailor was and remained a king to the end of his life.
There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons, and
only one goat. But as the goat supported all of them with
her milk, she was obliged to have good food, and to be taken
every day to pasture. The sons did this, in turn. Once the eldest
took her to the churchyard, where the finest herbs were to be found,
and let her eat and run about there. At night when it was time to
go home he asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat answered
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and took hold of the cord
round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her up securely.
Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had as much food as she
ought. Oh, answered the son, she has eaten so much, not a
leaf more she'll touch. But the father wished to satisfy himself,
and went down to the stable, stroked the dear animal and asked,
goat, are you satisfied. The goat answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
What do I hear, cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and said to the
youth. HI, you liar, you said the goat had had enough, and have
let her hunger, and in his anger he took the yard-measure from
the wall, and drove him out with blows.
Next day it was the turn of the second son, who sought a place
in the fence of the garden, where nothing but good herbs grew, and
the goat gobbled them all up. At night when he wanted to go home,
he asked, goat, are you satisfied. The goat answered,
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her home, and tied her
up in the stable. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had as
much food as she ought. Oh, answered the son, she has eaten
so much, not a leaf more she'll touch. The tailor would not rely
on this, but went down to the stable and said, goat, have you had
enough. The goat answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
The godless wretch. Cried the tailor, to let such a good animal
hunger, and he ran up and drove the youth out of doors with the
yard-measure.
Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do his duty
well, and sought out some bushes with the finest leaves, and let the
goat devour them. In the evening when he wanted to go home, he
asked, goat, have you had enough. The goat answered,
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the youth, and led her into the stable, and
tied her up. Well, said the old tailor, has the goat had her full
share of food. She has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll
touch. The tailor was distrustful, went down and asked, goat,
have you had enough. The wicked beast answered,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
Oh, the brood of liars, cried the tailor, each as wicked and
forgetful of his duty as the other. You shall no longer make a
fool of me, and quite beside himself with anger, he ran upstairs
and belabored the poor young fellow so vigorously with the
yard-measure that he sprang out of the house.
The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next morning he
went down into the stable, stroked the goat and said, come, my
dear little animal, I myself will take you to feed. He took her
by the rope and conducted her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil
and whatever else goats like to eat. There you may for once eat to
your heart's content, said he to her, and let her browse till
evening. Then he asked, goat, are you satisfied. She replied.
I have eaten so much,
not a leaf more I'll touch, meh. Meh.
Come home, then, said the tailor, and led her into the stable, and
tied her fast. When he was going away, he turned round again and
said, well, are you satisfied for once. But the goat behaved no
better to him, and cried,
how should I be satisfied.
Among the ditches I leapt about,
found no leaf, so went without, meh. Meh.
When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw clearly that
he had driven away his three sons without cause. Wait, you
ungrateful creature, cried he, it is not enough to drive you forth,
I will brand you so that you will no more dare to show yourself
amongst honest tailors. In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his
razor, lathered the goat's head, and shaved her as clean as the palm
of his hand. And as the yard-measure would have been too good for
her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave her such cuts with it that
she bounded away with tremendous leaps.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he fell into
great grief, and would gladly have had his sons back again, but no
one knew whither they were gone. The eldest had apprenticed
himself to a joiner, and learnt industriously and indefatigably,
and when the time came for him to go traveling, his master presented
him with a little table which was not particularly beautiful, and
was made of common wood, but which had one good property. If
anyone set it out, and said, little table, spread yourself, the good
little table was at once covered with a clean little cloth, and a
plate was there, and a knife and fork beside it, and dishes with
boiled meats and roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a
great glass of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad. The
young journeyman thought, with this you have enough for your
whole life, and went joyously about the world and never troubled
himself at all whether an inn was good or bad, or if anything was
to be found in it or not. When it suited him he did not enter an
inn at all, but either on the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or
wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back, set it
down before him, and said, spread yourself, and then everything
appeared that his heart desired. At length he took it into his head
to go back to his father, whose anger would now be appeased, and
who would now willingly receive him with his magic table. It came
to pass that on his way home, he came one evening to an inn which
was filled with guests. They bade him welcome, and invited him to
sit and eat with them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in
getting anything. No, answered the joiner, I will not take the few
morsels out of
your mouths. Rather than that, you shall be my guests. They
laughed, and thought he was jesting with them. He but placed his
wooden table in the middle of the room, and said, little table,
spread yourself. Instantly it was covered with food, so good that
the host could never have procured it, and the smell of it
ascended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. Fall to, dear
friends, said the joiner, and the guests when they saw that he
meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew near, pulled out
their knives and attacked it valiantly. And what surprised them the
most was that when a dish became empty, a full one instantly took
its place of its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and
watched the affair. He did not at all know what to say, but
thought, you could easily find a use for such a cook as that in your
household. The joiner and his comrades made merry until late
into the night. At length they lay down to sleep, and the young
apprentice also went to bed, and set his magic table against the
wall. The host's thoughts, however, let him have no rest. It
occurred to him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room
which looked just like the apprentice's and he brought it out,
and carefully exchanged it for the wishing table. Next morning
the joiner paid for his bed, took up his table, never thinking
that he had got a false one, and went his way. At mid-day he
reached his father, who received him with great joy. Well, my dear
son, what have you learnt. Said he to him. Father, I have become
a joiner.
A good trade, replied the old man, but what have you brought
back with you from your apprenticeship. Father, the best thing
which I have brought back with me is this little table. The
tailor inspected it on all sides and said, you did not make a
masterpiece when you made that. It is a bad old table. But it
is a table which furnishes itself, replied the son. When I set it
out, and tell it to spread itself, the most beautiful dishes stand
on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart. Just invite all
our relations and friends, they shall refresh and enjoy themselves
for once, for the table will give them all they require. When the
company was assembled, he put his table in the middle of the room and
said, little table,
spread yourself, but the little table did not bestir itself, and
remained just as bare as any other table which does not understand
language. Then the poor apprentice became aware that his table
had been changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like a
liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and were forced to go
home without having eaten or drunk. The father brought out his
patches again, and went on tailoring, but the son went to a
master in the craft.
The second son had gone to a miller and had apprenticed himself
to him. When his years were over, the master said, as you
have conducted yourself so well, I give you an ass of a peculiar
kind, which neither draws a cart nor carries a sack. What good is
he, then. Asked the young apprentice. He spews forth gold, answered
the miller. If you set him on a cloth and say bricklebrit,
the good animal will spew forth gold pieces for you from back and
front. That is a fine thing, said the apprentice, and thanked the
master, and went out into the world. When he had need of gold,
he had only to say bricklebrit to his ass, and it rained gold
pieces, and he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground.
Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was good enough for
him, and the dearer the better, for he had always a full purse.
When he had looked about the world for some time, he thought, you
must seek out your father. If you go to him with the gold-ass he
will forget his anger, and receive you well. It came to pass
that he came to the same inn in which his brother's table had been
exchanged. He led his ass by the bridle, and the host was about
to take the animal from him and tie him up, but the young
apprentice said, don't trouble yourself, I will take my grey
horse into the stable, and tie him up myself too, for I must know
where he stands. This struck the host as odd, and he thought
that a man who was forced to look after his ass himself, could not
have much to spend. But when the stranger put his hand in his
pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he was to
provide something good for him, the host opened his eyes wide, and
ran and sought out the best he could muster. After dinner the
guest asked what he owed. The host did
not see why he should not double the reckoning, and said the
apprentice must give two more gold pieces. He felt in his pocket,
but his gold was just at an end. Wait an instant, sir host, said
he, I will go and fetch some money. But he took the table-cloth
with him. The host could not imagine what this could mean, and
being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted the stable
door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot in the wood. The
stranger spread out the cloth under the animal and cried,
bricklebrit, and immediately the beast began to let gold pieces fall
from back and front, so that it fairly rained down money on the
ground. Eh, my word, said the host, ducats are quickly coined
there. A purse like that is not to be sniffed at. The guest
paid his score, and went to bed, but in the night the host stole
down into the stable, led away the master of the mint, and tied up
another ass in his place.
Early next morning the apprentice traveled away with his ass,
and thought that he had his gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his
father, who rejoiced to see him again, and gladly took him in.
What have you made of yourself, my son. Asked the old man.
A miller, dear father, he answered. What have you brought back
with you from your travels. Nothing else but an ass. There are
asses enough here, said the father, I would rather have had a good
goat. Yes, replied the son, but it is no common ass, but a
gold-ass, when I say bricklebrit, the good beast spews forth a whole
sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon all our relations hither,
and I will make them rich folks. That suits me well, said the
tailor, for then I shall have no need to torment myself any longer
with the needle, and ran out himself and called the relations
together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller bade them
make way, spread out his cloth, and brought the ass into the room.
Now watch, said he, and cried, bricklebrit, but what fell were not
gold pieces, and it was clear that the animal knew nothing of the
art, for every ass does not attain such perfection. Then the poor
miller pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged
pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they came. There
was no help for it, the old man had to betake him to his needle once
more, and the youth hired himself to a miller.
The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner, and as that
is skilled labor, he was the longest in learning. His brothers,
however, told him in a letter how badly things had gone with them,
and how the innkeeper had cheated them of ther beautiful
wishing-gifts on the last evening before they reached home. When
the turner had served his time, and had to set out on his travels,
as he had conducted himself so well, his master presented him with a
sack and said, there is a cudgel in it. I can put on the sack, said
he, and it may be of good service to me, but why should the cudgel
be in it. It only makes it heavy. I will tell you why, replied
the master. If anyone has done anything to injure you, do but say,
out of the sack, cudgel. And the cudgel will leap forth among the
people, and play such a dance on their backs that they will not be
able to stir or move for a week, and it will not leave off until
you say, into the sack, cudgel. The apprentice thanked him, and
put the sack on his back, and when anyone came too near him, and
wished to attack him, he said, out of the sack, cudgel, and
instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or jacket of
one after the other on their backs, and never stopped until it had
stripped it off them, and it was done so quickly, that before anyone
was aware, it was already his own turn. In the evening the
young turner reached the inn where his brothers had been cheated.
He laid his sack on the table before him, and began to talk of all
the wonderful things which he had seen in the world. Yes, said
he, people may easily find a table which will spread itself, a
gold-ass, and things of that kind - extremely good things which
I by no means despise - but these are nothing in comparison with
the treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying about
with me in my sack there. The innkeeper pricked up his ears.
What in the world can that be. Thought he. The sack must be filled
with nothing but jewels. I ought to get them cheap too, for all
good things go in threes. When it was time for sleep, the guest
stretched himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him
for a pillow. When the innkeeper thought his guest
was lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and pulled
quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he could possibly
draw it away and lay another in its place.
The turner, however, had been waiting for this for a long time, and
now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a hearty tug, he cried,
out of the sack, cudgel. Instantly the little cudgel came forth,
and fell on the inn-keeper and gave him a sound thrashing.
The host cried for mercy. But the louder he cried, the harder the
cudgel beat the time on his back, until at length he fell to the
ground exhausted. Then the turner said, if you do not give back
the table which spreads itself, and the gold-ass, the dance shall
begin afresh. Oh, no, cried the host, quite humbly, I will gladly
produce everything, only make the accursed kobold creep back into
the sack. Then said the apprentice, I will let mercy take the
place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief again. So he
cried, into the sack, cudgel. And let him have rest.
Next morning the turner went home to his father with the
wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor rejoiced when he saw
him once more, and asked him likewise what he had learned in foreign
parts. Dear father, said he, I have become a turner. A skilled
trade, said the father. What have you brought back with you from
your travels.
A precious thing, dear father, replied the son, a cudgel in the
sack.
What cried the father, a cudgel. That's certainly worth your
trouble. From every tree you can cut yourself one. But not one
like this, dear father. If I say, out of the sack, cudgel, the
cudgel springs out and leads anyone ill-disposed toward me a weary
dance, and never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for
fair weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I rescued the
wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish innkeeper took
away from my brothers. Now let them both be sent for, and invite
all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat and to drink, and will
fill their pockets with gold into the bargain. The old tailor
had not much confidence. Nevertheless he summoned the relatives
together. Then the turner spread a cloth in the room and led in the
gold-ass, and said to his brother, now, dear brother, speak to him.
The miller said, bricklebrit, and instantly the gold pices rained
down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not stop
until every one of them had so much that he could carry no more.
- I can see by your face that you also would have liked to be
there. -
Then the turner brought the little table, and said, now dear
brother, speak to it. And scarcely had the carpenter said, table,
spread yourself, than it was spread and amply covered with the
most exquisite dishes. Then such a meal took place as the good
tailor had never yet known in his house, and the whole party of
kinsmen stayed together till far in the night, and were all merry
and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-measure
and goose, in a closet, and lived with his three sons in joy and
splendor.
What, however, happened to the goat who was to blame for the
tailor driving out his three sons? That I will tell you. She
was ashamed that she had a bald head, and ran to a fox's hole and
crept into it. When the fox came home, he was met by two great
eyes shining out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away.
A bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he said,
what is the matter with you, brother fox, why do you look like
that. Ah, answered redskin, a fierce beast is in my cave and stared
at me with its fiery eyes. We will soon drive him out, said
the bear, and went with him to the cave and looked in, but when
he saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise. He would have
nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his heels. The
bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill at ease, she said,
bear, you are really pulling a very pitiful face. What has become
of all your gaiety. It is all very well for you to talk, replied
the bear, a furious beast with staring eyes is in redskin's house,
and we can't drive him out. The bee said, bear I pity you, I am
a poor weak creature whom you would not turn aside to look at, but
still, I believe, I can help you. She flew into the fox's cave,
lighted on the goat's smoothly-shorn head, and stung her so
violently, that she sprang up, crying meh, meh, and ran forth
into the world as if mad, and to this hour no one knows where she
has gone.
We observe today not a victory of party but a celebration of freedom--symbolizing an end as well as a beginning--signifying renewal as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forbears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe--the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans--born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage--and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge--and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided there is little we can do--for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom--and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those people in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required--not because the communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge--to convert our good words into good deeds--in a new alliance for progress--to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support--to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective--to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak--and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course--both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew--remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms--and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah--to "undo the heavy burdens . . . (and) let the oppressed go free."
And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again--not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need--not as a call to battle, though embattled we are-- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"--a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility--I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it--and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and the propriety of its restoration, constitute the subject of what I am about to say.
As I desire to present my own connected view of this subject, my remarks will not be, specifically, an answer to Judge Douglas; yet, as I proceed, the main points he has presented will arise, and will receive such respectful attention as I may be able to give them.
I wish further to say, that I do not propose to question the patriotism, or to assail the motives of any man, or class of men; but rather to strictly confine myself to the naked merits of the question.
I also wish to be no less than National in all the positions I may take; and whenever I take ground which others have thought, or may think, narrow, sectional and dangerous to the Union, I hope to give a reason, which will appear sufficient, at least to some, why I think differently.
And, as this subject is no other, than part and parcel of the larger general question of domestic-slavery, I wish to MAKE and to KEEP the distinction between the EXISTING institution, and the EXTENSION of it, so broad, and so clear, that no honest man can misunderstand me, and no dishonest one, successfully misrepresent me.
In order to [get?] a clear understanding of what the Missouri Compromise is, a short history of the preceding kindred subjects will perhaps be proper. When we established our independence, we did not own, or claim, the country to which this compromise applies. Indeed, strictly speaking, the confederacy then owned no country at all; the States respectively owned the country within their limits; and some of them owned territory beyond their strict State limits. Virginia thus owned the North-Western territory---the country out of which the principal part of Ohio, all Indiana, all Illinois, all Michigan and all Wisconsin, have since been formed. She also owned (perhaps within her then limits) what has since been formed into the State of Kentucky. North Carolina thus owned what is now the State of Tennessee; and South Carolina and Georgia, in separate parts, owned what are now Mississippi and Alabama. Connecticut, I think, owned the little remaining part of Ohio---being the same where they now send Giddings to Congress, and beat all creation at making cheese. These territories, together with the States themselves, constituted all the country over which the confederacy then claimed any sort of jurisdiction. We were then living under the Articles of Confederation, which were superceded by the Constitution several years afterwards. The question of ceding these territories to the general government was set on foot. Mr. Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence, and otherwise a chief actor in the revolution; then a delegate in Congress; afterwards twice President; who was, is, and perhaps will continue to be, the most distinguished politician of our history; a Virginian by birth and continued residence, and withal, a slave-holder; conceived the idea of taking that occasion, to prevent slavery ever going into the north-western territory. He prevailed on the Virginia Legislature to adopt his views, and to cede the territory, making the prohibition of slavery therein, a condition of the deed. Congress accepted the cession, with the condition; and in the first Ordinance (which the acts of Congress were then called) for the government of the territory, provided that slavery should never be permitted therein. This is the famed ordinance of '87 so often spoken of. Thenceforward, for sixty-one years, and until in 1848, the last scrap of this territory came into the Union as the State of Wisconsin, all parties acted in quiet obedience to this ordinance. It is now what Jefferson foresaw and intended---the happy home of teeming millions of free, white, prosperous people, and no slave amongst them.
Thus, with the author of the Declaration of Independence, the policy of prohibiting slavery in new territory originated. Thus, away back of the constitution, in the pure fresh, free breath of the revolution, the State of Virginia, and the National congress put that policy in practice. Thus through sixty odd of the best years of the republic did that policy steadily work to its great and beneficent end. And thus, in those five states, and five millions of free, enterprising people, we have before us the rich fruits of this policy.
But now new light breaks upon us. Now congress declares this ought never to have been; and the like of it, must never be again. The sacred right of self government is grossly violated by it! We even find some men, who drew their first breath, and every other breath of their lives, under this very restriction, now live in dread of absolute suffocation, if they should be restricted in the "sacred right" of taking slaves to Nebraska. That perfect liberty they sigh for---the liberty of making slaves of other people---Jefferson never thought of; their own father never thought of; they never thought of themselves, a year ago. How fortunate for them, they did not sooner become sensible of their great misery! Oh, how difficult it is to treat with respect, such assaults upon all we have ever really held sacred.
But to return to history. In 1803 we purchased what was then called Louisiana, of France. It included the now states of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, and Iowa; also the territory of Minnesota, and the present bone of contention, Kansas and Nebraska. Slavery already existed among the French at New Orleans; and, to some extent, at St. Louis. In 1812 Louisiana came into the Union as a slave state, without controversy. In 1818 or '19, Missouri showed signs of a wish to come in with slavery. This was resisted by northern members of Congress; and thus began the first great slavery agitation in the nation. This controversy lasted several months, and became very angry and exciting; the House of Representatives voting steadily for the prohibition of slavery in Missouri, and the Senate voting as steadily against it. Threats of breaking up the Union were freely made; and the ablest public men of the day became seriously alarmed. At length a compromise was made, in which, like all compromises, both sides yielded something. It was a law passed on the 6th day of March, 1820, providing that Missouri might come into the Union with slavery, but that in all the remaining part of the territory purchased of France, which lies north of 36 degrees and 30 minutes north latitude, slavery should never be permitted. This provision of law, is the Missouri Compromise. In excluding slavery North of the line, the same language is employed as in the Ordinance of '87. It directly applied to Iowa, Minnesota, and to the present bone of contention, Kansas and Nebraska. Whether there should or should not, be slavery south of that line, nothing was said in the law; but Arkansas constituted the principal remaining part, south of the line; and it has since been admitted as a slave state without serious controversy. More recently, Iowa, north of the line, came in as a free state without controversy. Still later, Minnesota, north of the line, had a territorial organization without controversy. Texas principally south of the line, and West of Arkansas; though originally within the purchase from France, had, in 1819, been traded off to Spain, in our treaty for the acquisition of Florida. It had thus become a part of Mexico. Mexico revolutionized and became independent of Spain. American citizens began settling rapidly, with their slaves in the southern part of Texas. Soon they revolutionized against Mexico, and established an independent government of their own, adopting a constitution, with slavery, strongly resembling the constitutions of our slave states. By still another rapid move, Texas, claiming a boundary much further West, than when we parted with her in 1819, was brought back to the United States, and admitted into the Union as a slave state. There then was little or no settlement in the northern part of Texas, a considerable portion of which lay north of the Missouri line; and in the resolutions admitting her into the Union, the Missouri restriction was expressly extended westward across her territory. This was in 1845, only nine years ago.
Thus originated the Missouri Compromise; and thus has it been respected down to 1845. And even four years later, in 1849, our distinguished Senator, in a public address, held the following language in relation to it:
"The Missouri Compromise had been in practical operation for about a quarter of a century, and had received the sanction and approbation of men of all parties in every section of the Union. It had allayed all sectional jealousies and irritations growing out of this vexed question, and harmonized and tranquilized the whole country. It had given to Henry Clay, as its prominent champion, the proud sobriquet of the 'Great Pacificator' and by that title and for that service, his political friends had repeatedly appealed to the people to rally under his standard, as a presidential candidate, as the man who had exhibited the patriotism and the power to suppress, an unholy and treasonable agitation, and preserve the Union. He was not aware that any man or any party from any section of the Union, had ever urged as an objection to Mr. Clay, that he was the great champion of the Missouri Compromise. On the contrary, the effort was made by the opponents of Mr. Clay, to prove that he was not entitled to the exclusive merit of that great patriotic measure, and that the honor was equally due to others as well as to him, for securing its adoption---that it had its origin in the hearts of all patriotic men, who desired to preserve and perpetuate the blessings of our glorious Union---an origin akin that of the constitution of the United States, conceived in the same spirit of fraternal affection, and calculated to remove forever, the only danger, which seemed to threaten, at some distant day, to sever the social bond of union. All the evidences of public opinion at that day, seemed to indicate that this Compromise had been canonized in the hearts of the American people, as a sacred thing which no ruthless hand would ever be reckless enough to disturb."
I do not read this extract to involve Judge Douglas in an inconsistency. If he afterwards thought he had been wrong, it was right for him to change. I bring this forward merely to show the high estimate placed on the Missouri Compromise by all parties up to so late as the year 1849.
But, going back a little, in point of time, our war with Mexico broke out in 1846. When Congress was about adjourning that session, President Polk asked them to place two millions of dollars under his control, to be used by him in the recess, if found practicable and expedient, in negociating a treaty of peace with Mexico, and acquiring some part of her territory. A bill was duly got up, for the purpose, and was progressing swimmingly, in the House of Representatives, when a member by the name of David Wilmot, a democrat from Pennsylvania, moved as an amendment "Provided that in any territory thus acquired, there shall never be slavery."
This is the origin of the far-famed 'Wilmot Proviso.' It created a great flutter; but it stuck like wax, was voted into the bill, and the bill passed with it through the House. The Senate, however, adjourned without final action on it and so both appropriation and proviso were lost, for the time. The war continued, and at the next session, the president renewed his request for the appropriation, enlarging the amount, I think, to three million. Again came the proviso; and defeated the measure. Congress adjourned again, and the war went on. In Dec., 1847, the new congress assembled. I was in the lower House that term. The "Wilmot Proviso" or the principle of it, was constantly coming up in some shape or other, and I think I may venture to say I voted for it at least forty times; during the short term I was there. The Senate, however, held it in check, and it never became law. In the spring of 1848 a treaty of peace was made with Mexico; by which we obtained that portion of her country which now constitutes the territories of New Mexico and Utah, and the now state of California. By this treaty the Wilmot Proviso was defeated, as so far as it was intended to be, a condition of the acquisition of territory. Its friends however, were still determined to find some way to restrain slavery from getting into the new country. This new acquisition lay directly West of our old purchase from France, and extended west to the Pacific ocean---and was so situated that if the Missouri line should be extended straight West, the new country would be divided by such extended line, leaving some North and some South of it. On Judge Douglas' motion a bill, or provision of a bill, passed the Senate to so extend the Missouri line. The Proviso men in the House, including myself, voted it down, because by implication, it gave up the Southern part to slavery, while we were bent on having it all free.
In the fall of 1848 the gold mines were discovered in California. This attracted people to it with unprecedented rapidity, so that on, or soon after, the meeting of the new congress in Dec., 1849, she already had a population of nearly a hundred thousand, had called a convention, formed a state constitution, excluding slavery, and was knocking for admission into the Union. The Proviso men, of course were for letting her in, but the Senate, always true to the other side would not consent to her admission. And there California stood, kept out of the Union, because she would not let slavery into her borders. Under all the circumstances perhaps this was not wrong. There were other points of dispute, connected with the general question of slavery, which equally needed adjustment. The South clamored for a more efficient fugitive slave law. The North clamored for the abolition of a peculiar species of slave trade in the District of Columbia, in connection with which, in view from the windows of the capitol, a sort of negro-livery stable, where droves of negroes were collected, temporarily kept, and finally taken to Southern markets, precisely like droves of horses, had been openly maintained for fifty years. Utah and New Mexico needed territorial governments; and whether slavery should or should not be prohibited within them, was another question. The indefinite Western boundary of Texas was to be settled. She was received a slave state; and consequently the farther West the slavery men could push her boundary, the more slave country they secured. And the farther East the slavery opponents could thrust the boundary back, the less slave ground was secured. Thus this was just as clearly a slavery question as any of the others.
These points all needed adjustment; and they were all held up, perhaps wisely to make them help to adjust one another. The Union, now, as in 1820, was thought to be in danger; and devotion to the Union rightfully inclined men to yield somewhat, in points where nothing else could have so inclined them. A compromise was finally effected. The south got their new fugitive-slave law; and the North got California, (the far best part of our acquisition from Mexico,) as a free State. The south got a provision that New Mexico and Utah, when admitted as States, may come in with or without slavery as they may then choose; and the north got the slave-trade abolished in the District of Columbia. The north got the western boundary of Texas, thence further back eastward than the south desired; but, in turn, they gave Texas ten millions of dollars, with which to pay her old debts. This is the Compromise of 1850.
Preceding the Presidential election of 1852, each of the great political parties, democrats and whigs, met in convention, and adopted resolutions endorsing the compromise of '50; as a "finality," a final settlement, so far as these parties could make it so, of all slavery agitation. Previous to this, in 1851, the Illinois Legislature had indorsed it.
During this long period of time Nebraska had remained, substantially an uninhabited country, but now emigration to, and settlement within it began to take place. It is about one third as large as the present United States, and its importance so long overlooked, begins to come into view. The restriction of slavery by the Missouri Compromise directly applies to it; in fact, was first made, and has since been maintained, expressly for it. In 1853, a bill to give it a territorial government passed the House of Representatives, and, in the hands of Judge Douglas, failed of passing the Senate only for want of time. This bill contained no repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Indeed, when it was assailed because it did not contain such repeal, Judge Douglas defended it in its existing form. On January 4th, 1854, Judge Douglas introduces a new bill to give Nebraska territorial government. He accompanies this bill with a report, in which last, he expressly recommends that the Missouri Compromise shall neither be affirmed nor repealed.
Before long the bill is so modified as to make two territories instead of one; calling the Southern one Kansas.
Also, about a month after the introduction of the bill, on the judge's own motion, it is so amended as to declare the Missouri Compromise inoperative and void; and, substantially, that the People who go and settle there may establish slavery, or exclude it, as they may see fit. In this shape the bill passed both branches of congress, and became a law.
This is the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. The foregoing history may not be precisely accurate in every particular; but I am sure it is sufficiently so, for all the uses I shall attempt to make of it, and in it, we have before us, the chief material enabling us to correctly judge whether the repeal of the Missouri Compromise is right or wrong.
I think, and shall try to show, that it is wrong; wrong in its direct effect, letting slavery into Kansas and Nebraska---and wrong in its prospective principle, allowing it to spread to every other part of the wide world, where men can be found inclined to take it.
This declared indifference, but as I must think, covert real zeal for the spread of slavery, I can not but hate. I hate it because of the monstrous injustice of slavery itself. I hate it because it deprives our republican example of its just influence in the world---enables the enemies of free institutions, with plausibility, to taunt us as hypocrites---causes the real friends of freedom to doubt our sincerity, and especially because it forces so many really good men amongst ourselves into an open war with the very fundamental principles of civil liberty---criticising the Declaration of Independence, and insisting that there is no right principle of action but self-interest.
Before proceeding, let me say I think I have no prejudice against the Southern people. They are just what we would be in their situation. If slavery did not now exist amongst them, they would not introduce it. If it did now exist amongst us, we should not instantly give it up. This I believe of the masses north and south. Doubtless there are individuals, on both sides, who would not hold slaves under any circumstances; and others who would gladly introduce slavery anew, if it were out of existence. We know that some southern men do free their slaves, go north, and become tip-top abolitionists; while some northern ones go south, and become most cruel slave-masters.
When southern people tell us they are no more responsible for the origin of slavery, than we; I acknowledge the fact. When it is said that the institution exists; and that it is very difficult to get rid of it, in any satisfactory way, I can understand and appreciate the saying. I surely will not blame them for not doing what I should not know how to do myself. If all earthly power were given me, I should not know what to do, as to the existing institution. My first impulse would be to free all the slaves, and send them to Liberia,---to their own native land. But a moment's reflection would convince me, that whatever of high hope, (as I think there is) there may be in this, in the long run, its sudden execution is impossible. If they were all landed there in a day, they would all perish in the next ten days; and there are not surplus shipping and surplus money enough in the world to carry them there in many times ten days. What then? Free them all, and keep them among us as underlings? Is it quite certain that this betters their condition? I think I would not hold one in slavery, at any rate; yet the point is not clear enough for me to denounce people upon. What next? Free them, and make them politically and socially, our equals? My own feelings will not admit of this; and if mine would, we well know that those of the great mass of white people will not. Whether this feeling accords with justice and sound judgment, is not the sole question, if indeed, it is any part of it. A universal feeling, whether well or ill-founded, can not be safely disregarded. We can not, then, make them equals. It does seem to me that systems of gradual emancipation might be adopted; but for their tardiness in this, I will not undertake to judge our brethren of the south.
When they remind us of their constitutional rights, I acknowledge them, not grudgingly, but fully, and fairly; and I would give them any legislation for the reclaiming of their fugitives, which should not, in its stringency, be more likely to carry a free man into slavery, than our ordinary criminal laws are to hang an innocent one.
But all this; to my judgment, furnishes no more excuse for permitting slavery to go into our own free territory, than it would for reviving the African slave trade by law. The law which forbids the bringing of slaves from Africa; and that which has so long forbid the taking them to Nebraska, can hardly be distinguished on any moral principle; and the repeal of the former could find quite as plausible excuses as that of the latter.
The arguments by which the repeal of the Missouri Compromise is sought to be justified, are these:
First, that the Nebraska country needed a territorial government.
Second, that in various ways, the public had repudiated it, and demanded the repeal; and therefore should not now complain of it.
And lastly, that the repeal establishes a principle, which is intrinsically right.
I will attempt an answer to each of them in its turn. First, then, if that country was in need of a territorial organization, could it not have had it as well without as with the repeal? Iowa and Minnesota, to both of which the Missouri restriction applied, had, without its repeal, each in succession, territorial organizations. And even, the year before, a bill for Nebraska itself, was within an ace of passing, without the repealing clause; and this in the hands of the same men who are now the champions of repeal. Why no necessity then for the repeal? But still later, when this very bill was first brought in, it contained no repeal. But, say they, because the public had demanded, or rather commanded the repeal, the repeal was to accompany the organization, whenever that should occur.
Now I deny that the public ever demanded any such thing---ever repudiated the Missouri Compromise---ever commanded its repeal. I deny it, and call for the proof. It is not contended, I believe, that any such command has ever been given in express terms. It is only said that it was done in principle. The support of the Wilmot Proviso, is the first fact mentioned, to prove that the Missouri restriction was repudiated in principle, and the second is, the refusal to extend the Missouri line over the country acquired from Mexico. These are near enough alike to be treated together. The one was to exclude the chances of slavery from the whole new acquisition by the lump; and the other was to reject a division of it, by which one half was to be given up to those chances. Now whether this was a repudiation of the Missouri line, in principle, depends upon whether the Missouri law contained any principle requiring the line to be extended over the country acquired from Mexico. I contend it did not. I insist that it contained no general principle, but that it was, in every sense, specific. That its terms limit it to the country purchased from France, is undenied and undeniable. It could have no principle beyond the intention of those who made it. They did not intend to extend the line to country which they did not own. If they intended to extend it, in the event of acquiring additional territory, why did they not say so? It was just as easy to say, that "in all the country west of the Mississippi, which we now own, or may hereafter acquire there shall never be slavery," as to say, what they did say; and they would have said it if they had meant it. An intention to extend the law is not only not mentioned in the law, but is not mentioned in any contemporaneous history. Both the law itself, and the history of the times are a blank as to any principle of extension; and by neither the known rules for construing statutes and contracts, nor by common sense, can any such principle be inferred.
Another fact showing the specific character of the Missouri law---showing that it intended no more than it expressed---showing that the line was not intended as a universal dividing line between free and slave territory, present and prospective---north of which slavery could never go---is the fact that by that very law, Missouri came in as a slave state, north of the line. If that law contained any prospective principle, the whole law must be looked to in order to ascertain what the principle was. And by this rule, the south could fairly contend that inasmuch as they got one slave state north of the line at the inception of the law, they have the right to have another given them north of it occasionally---now and then in the indefinite westward extension of the line. This demonstrates the absurdity of attempting to deduce a prospective principle from the Missouri Compromise line.
When we voted for the Wilmot Proviso, we were voting to keep slavery out of the whole Missouri [Mexican?] acquisition; and little did we think we were thereby voting, to let it into Nebraska, laying several hundred miles distant. When we voted against extending the Missouri line, little did we think we were voting to destroy the old line, then of near thirty years standing. To argue that we thus repudiated the Missouri Compromise is no less absurd than it would be to argue that because we have, so far, forborne to acquire Cuba, we have thereby, in principle, repudiated our former acquisitions, and determined to throw them out of the Union! No less absurd than it would be to say that because I may have refused to build an addition to my house, I thereby have decided to destroy the existing house! And if I catch you setting fire to my house, you will turn upon me and say I INSTRUCTED you to do it! The most conclusive argument, however, that, while voting for the Wilmot Proviso, and while voting against the EXTENSION of the Missouri line, we never thought of disturbing the original Missouri Compromise, is found in the facts, that there was then, and still is, an unorganized tract of fine country, nearly as large as the state of Missouri, lying immediately west of Arkansas, and south of the Missouri Compromise line; and that we never attempted to prohibit slavery as to it. I wish particular attention to this. It adjoins the original Missouri Compromise line, by its northern boundary; and consequently is part of the country, into which, by implication, slavery was permitted to go, by that compromise. There it has lain open ever since, and there it still lies. And yet no effort has been made at any time to wrest it from the south. In all our struggles to prohibit slavery within our Mexican acquisitions, we never so much as lifted a finger to prohibit it, as to this tract. Is not this entirely conclusive that at all times, we have held the Missouri Compromise as a sacred thing; even when against ourselves, as well as when for us?
Senator Douglas sometimes says the Missouri line itself was, in principle, only an extension of the line of the ordinance of '87---that is to say, an extension of the Ohio river. I think this is weak enough on its face. I will remark, however that, as a glance at the map will show, the Missouri line is a long way farther South than Page the Ohio; and that if our Senator, in proposing his extension, had stuck to the principle of jogging southward, perhaps it might not have been voted down so readily.
But next it is said that the compromises of '50 and the ratification of them by both political parties, in '52, established a new principle, which required the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. This again I deny. I deny it, and demand the proof. I have already stated fully what the compromises of '50 are. The particular part of those measures, for which the virtual repeal of the Missouri compromise is sought to be inferred (for it is admitted they contain nothing about it, in express terms) is the provision in the Utah and New Mexico laws, which permits them when they seek admission into the Union as States, to come in with or without slavery as they shall then see fit. Now I insist this provision was made for Utah and New Mexico, and for no other place whatever. It had no more direct reference to Nebraska than it had to the territories of the moon. But, say they, it had reference to Nebraska, in principle. Let us see. The North consented to this provision, not because they considered it right in itself; but because they were compensated---paid for it. They, at the same time, got California into the Union as a free State. This was far the best part of all they had struggled for by the Wilmot Proviso. They also got the area of slavery somewhat narrowed in the settlement of the boundary of Texas. Also, they got the slave trade abolished in the District of Columbia. For all these desirable objects the North could afford to yield something; and they did yield to the South the Utah and New Mexico provision. I do not mean that the whole North, or even a majority, yielded, when the law passed; but enough yielded, when added to the vote of the South, to carry the measure. Now can it be pretended that the principle of this arrangement requires us to permit the same provision to be applied to Nebraska, without any equivalent at all? Give us another free State; press the boundary of Texas still further back, give us another step toward the destruction of slavery in the District, and you present us a similar case. But ask us not to repeat, for nothing, what you paid for in the first instance. If you wish the thing again, pay again. That is the principle of the compromises of '50, if indeed they had any principles beyond their specific terms---it was the system of equivalents.
Again, if Congress, at that time, intended that all future territories should, when admitted as States, come in with or without slavery, at their own option, why did it not say so? With such an universal provision, all know the bills could not have passed. Did they, then---could they---establish a principle contrary to their own intention? Still further, if they intended to establish the principle that wherever Congress had control, it should be left to the people to do as they thought fit with slavery why did they not authorize the people of the District of Columbia at their adoption to abolish slavery within these limits? I personally know that this has not been left undone, because it was unthought of. It was frequently spoken of by members of Congress and by citizens of Washington six years ago; and I heard no one express a doubt that a system of gradual emancipation, with compensation to owners, would meet the approbation of a large majority of the white people of the District. But without the action of Congress they could say nothing; and Congress said ``no.'' In the measures of 1850 Congress had the subject of slavery in the District expressly in hand. If they were then establishing the principle of allowing the people to do as they please with slavery, why did they not apply the principle to that people?
Again, it is claimed that by the Resolutions of the Illinois Legislature, passed in 1851, the repeal of the Missouri compromise was demanded. This I deny also. Whatever may be worked out by a criticism of the language of those resolutions, the people have never understood them as being any more than an endorsement of the compromises of 1850; and a release of our Senators from voting for the Wilmot Proviso. The whole people are living witnesses, that this only, was their view. Finally, it is asked "If we did not mean to apply the Utah and New Mexico provision, to all future territories, what did we mean, when we, in 1852, endorsed the compromises of '50?"
For myself, I can answer this question most easily. I meant not to ask a repeal, or modification of the fugitive slave law. I meant not to ask for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. I meant not to resist the admission of Utah and New Mexico, even should they ask to come in as slave States. I meant nothing about additional territories, because, as I understood, we then had no territory whose character as to slavery was not already settled. As to Nebraska, I regarded its character as being fixed, by the Missouri compromise, for thirty years---as unalterably fixed as that of my own home in Illinois. As to new acquisitions I said "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." When we make new acquaintances, [acquisitions?] we will, as heretofore, try to manage them some how. That is my answer. That is what I meant and said; and I appeal to the people to say, each for himself, whether that was not also the universal meaning of the free States.
And now, in turn, let me ask a few questions. If by any, or all these matters, the repeal of the Missouri Compromise was commanded, why was not the command sooner obeyed? Why was the repeal omitted in the Nebraska bill of 1853? Why was it omitted in the original bill of 1854? Why, in the accompanying report, was such a repeal characterized as a departure from the course pursued in 1850? and its continued omission recommended?
I am aware Judge Douglas now argues that the subsequent express repeal is no substantial alteration of the bill. This argument seems wonderful to me. It is as if one should argue that white and black are not different. He admits, however, that there is a literal change in the bill; and that he made the change in deference to other Senators, who would not support the bill without. This proves that those other Senators thought the change a substantial one; and that the Judge thought their opinions worth deferring to. His own opinions, therefore, seem not to rest on a very firm basis even in his own mind---and I suppose the world believes, and will continue to believe, that precisely on the substance of that change this whole agitation has arisen.
I conclude then, that the public never demanded the repeal of the Missouri compromise.
I now come to consider whether the repeal, with its avowed principle, is intrinsically right. I insist that it is not. Take the particular case. A controversy had arisen between the advocates and opponents of slavery, in relation to its establishment within the country we had purchased of France. The southern, and then best part of the purchase, was already in as a slave state. The controversy was settled by also letting Missouri in as a slave State; but with the agreement that within all the remaining part of the purchase, North of a certain line, there should never be slavery. As to what was to be done with the remaining part south of the line, nothing was said; but perhaps the fair implication was, that it should come in with slavery if it should so choose. The southern part, except a portion heretofore mentioned, afterwards did come in with slavery, as the State of Arkansas. All these many years since 1820, the Northern part had remained a wilderness. At length settlements began in it also. In due course, Iowa, came in as a free State, and Minnesota was given a territorial government, without removing the slavery restriction. Finally the sole remaining part, North of the line, Kansas and Nebraska, was to be organized; and it is proposed, and carried, to blot out the old dividing line of thirty-four years standing, and to open the whole of that country to the introduction of slavery. Now, this, to my mind, is manifestly unjust. After an angry and dangerous controversy, the parties made friends by dividing the bone of contention. The one party first appropriates her own share, beyond all power to be disturbed in the possession of it; and then seizes the share of the other party. It is as if two starving men had divided their only loaf; the one had hastily swallowed his half, and then grabbed the other half just as he was putting it to his mouth!
Let me here drop the main argument, to notice what I consider rather an inferior matter. It is argued that slavery will not go to Kansas and Nebraska, in any event. This is a palliation---a lullaby. I have some hope that it will not; but let us not be too confident. As to climate, a glance at the map shows that there are five slave States---Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri---and also the District of Columbia, all north of the Missouri compromise line. The census returns of 1850 show that, within these, there are 867,276 slaves---being more than one-fourth of all the slaves in the nation.
It is not climate, then, that will keep slavery out of these territories. Is there any thing in the peculiar nature of the country? Missouri adjoins these territories, by her entire western boundary, and slavery is already within every one of her western counties. I have even heard it said that there are more slaves, in proportion to whites, in the north western county of Missouri, than within any county of the State. Slavery pressed entirely up to the old western boundary of the State, and when, rather recently, a part of that boundary, at the north-west was moved out a little farther west, slavery followed on quite up to the new line. Now, when the restriction is removed, what is to prevent it from going still further? Climate will not. No peculiarity of the country will---nothing in nature will. Will the disposition of the people prevent it? Those nearest the scene, are all in favor of the extension. The yankees, who are opposed to it may be more numerous; but in military phrase, the battle-field is too far from their base of operations.
But it is said, there now is no law in Nebraska on the subject of slavery; and that, in such case, taking a slave there, operates his freedom. That is good book-law; but is not the rule of actual practice. Wherever slavery is, it has been first introduced without law. The oldest laws we find concerning it, are not laws introducing it; but regulating it, as an already existing thing. A white man takes his slave to Nebraska now; who will inform the negro that he is free? Who will take him before court to test the question of his freedom? In ignorance of his legal emancipation, he is kept chopping, splitting and plowing. Others are brought, and move on in the same track. At last, if ever the time for voting comes, on the question of slavery, the institution already in fact exists in the country, and cannot well be removed. The facts of its presence, and the difficulty of its removal will carry the vote in its favor. Keep it out until a vote is taken, and a vote in favor of it, can not be got in any population of forty thousand, on earth, who have been drawn together by the ordinary motives of emigration and settlement. To get slaves into the country simultaneously with the whites, in the incipient stages of settlement, is the precise stake played for, and won in this Nebraska measure.
The question is asked us, "If slaves will go in, notwithstanding the general principle of law liberates them, why would they not equally go in against positive statute law?---go in, even if the Missouri restriction were maintained?" I answer, because it takes a much bolder man to venture in, with his property, in the latter case, than in the former---because the positive congressional enactment is known to, and respected by all, or nearly all; whereas the negative principle that no law is free law, is not much known except among lawyers. We have some experience of this practical difference. In spite of the Ordinance of '87, a few negroes were brought into Illinois, and held in a state of quasi slavery; not enough, however to carry a vote of the people in favor of the institution when they came to form a constitution. But in the adjoining Missouri country, where there was no ordinance of '87---was no restriction---they were carried ten times, nay a hundred times, as fast, and actually made a slave State. This is fact---naked fact.
Another LULLABY argument is, that taking slaves to new countries does not increase their number---does not make any one slave who otherwise would be free. There is some truth in this, and I am glad of it, but it [is] not WHOLLY true. The African slave trade is not yet effectually suppressed; and if we make a reasonable deduction for the white people amongst us, who are foreigners, and the descendants of foreigners, arriving here since 1808, we shall find the increase of the black population out-running that of the white, to an extent unaccountable, except by supposing that some of them too, have been coming from Africa. If this be so, the opening of new countries to the institution, increases the demand for, and augments the price of slaves, and so does, in fact, make slaves of freemen by causing them to be brought from Africa, and sold into bondage.
But, however this may be, we know the opening of new countries to slavery, tends to the perpetuation of the institution, and so does KEEP men in slavery who otherwise would be free. This result we do not FEEL like favoring, and we are under no legal obligation to suppress our feelings in this respect.
Equal justice to the south, it is said, requires us to consent to the extending of slavery to new countries. That is to say, inasmuch as you do not object to my taking my hog to Nebraska, therefore I must not object to you taking your slave. Now, I admit this is perfectly logical, if there is no difference between hogs and negroes. But while you thus require me to deny the humanity of the negro, I wish to ask whether you of the south yourselves, have ever been willing to do as much? It is kindly provided that of all those who come into the world, only a small percentage are natural tyrants. That percentage is no larger in the slave States than in the free. The great majority, south as well as north, have human sympathies, of which they can no more divest themselves than they can of their sensibility to physical pain. These sympathies in the bosoms of the southern people, manifest in many ways, their sense of the wrong of slavery, and their consciousness that, after all, there is humanity in the negro. If they deny this, let me address them a few plain questions. In 1820 you joined the north, almost unanimously, in declaring the African slave trade piracy, and in annexing to it the punishment of death. Why did you do this? If you did not feel that it was wrong, why did you join in providing that men should be hung for it? The practice was no more than bringing wild negroes from Africa, to sell to such as would buy them. But you never thought of hanging men for catching and selling wild horses, wild buffaloes or wild bears.
Again, you have amongst you, a sneaking individual, of the class of native tyrants, known as the "SLAVE-DEALER." He watches your necessities, and crawls up to buy your slave, at a speculating price. If you cannot help it, you sell to him; but if you can help it, you drive him from your door. You despise him utterly. You do not recognize him as a friend, or even as an honest man. Your children must not play with his; they may rollick freely with the little negroes, but not with the "slave-dealer's children". If you are obliged to deal with him, you try to get through the job without so much as touching him. It is common with you to join hands with the men you meet; but with the slave dealer you avoid the ceremony---instinctively shrinking from the snaky contact. If he grows rich and retires from business, you still remember him, and still keep up the ban of non-intercourse upon him and his family. Now why is this? You do not so treat the man who deals in corn, cattle or tobacco.
And yet again; there are in the United States and territories, including the District of Columbia, 433,643 free blacks. At $500 per head they are worth over two hundred millions of dollars. How comes this vast amount of property to be running about without owners? We do not see free horses or free cattle running at large. How is this? All these free blacks are the descendants of slaves, or have been slaves themselves, and they would be slaves now, but for SOMETHING which has operated on their white owners, inducing them, at vast pecuniary sacrifices, to liberate them. What is that SOMETHING? Is there any mistaking it? In all these cases it is your sense of justice, and human sympathy, continually telling you, that the poor negro has some natural right to himself---that those who deny it, and make mere merchandise of him, deserve kickings, contempt and death.
And now, why will you ask us to deny the humanity of the slave? and estimate him only as the equal of the hog? Why ask us to do what you will not do yourselves? Why ask us to do for nothing, what two hundred million of dollars could not induce you to do?
But one great argument in the support of the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, is still to come. That argument is "the sacred right of self government." It seems our distinguished Senator has found great difficulty in getting his antagonists, even in the Senate to meet him fairly on this argument---some poet has said
"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."
At the hazzard of being thought one of the fools of this quotation, I meet that argument---I rush in, I take that bull by the horns.
I trust I understand, and truly estimate the right of self-government. My faith in the proposition that each man should do precisely as he pleases with all which is exclusively his own, lies at the foundation of the sense of justice there is in me. I extend the principles to communities of men, as well as to individuals. I so extend it, because it is politically wise, as well as naturally just; politically wise, in saving us from broils about matters which do not concern us. Here, or at Washington, I would not trouble myself with the oyster laws of Virginia, or the cranberry laws of Indiana.
The doctrine of self government is right---absolutely and eternally right---but it has no just application, as here attempted. Or perhaps I should rather say that whether it has such just application depends upon whether a negro is not or is a man. If he is not a man, why in that case, he who is a man may, as a matter of self-government, do just as he pleases with him. But if the negro is a man, is it not to that extent, a total destruction of self-government, to say that he too shall not govern himself? When the white man governs himself that is self-government; but when he governs himself, and also governs another man, that is more than self-government---that is despotism. If the negro is a man, why then my ancient faith teaches me that "all men are created equal;" and that there can be no moral right in connection with one man's making a slave of another.
Judge Douglas frequently, with bitter irony and sarcasm, paraphrases our argument by saying "The white people of Nebraska are good enough to govern themselves, but they are not good enough to govern a few miserable negroes!!"
Well I doubt not that the people of Nebraska are, and will continue to be as good as the average of people elsewhere. I do not say the contrary. What I do say is, that no man is good enough to govern another man, without that other's consent. I say this is the leading principle---the sheet anchor of American republicanism. Our Declaration of Independence says:
"We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, DERIVING THEIR JUST POWERS FROM THE CONSENT OF THE GOVERNED."
I have quoted so much at this time merely to show that according to our ancient faith, the just powers of governments are derived from the consent of the governed. Now the relation of masters and slaves is, PRO TANTO, a total violation of this principle. The master not only governs the slave without his consent; but he governs him by a set of rules altogether different from those which he prescribes for himself. Allow ALL the governed an equal voice in the government, and that, and that only is self government.
Let it not be said I am contending for the establishment of political and social equality between the whites and blacks. I have already said the contrary. I am not now combating the argument of NECESSITY, arising from the fact that the blacks are already amongst us; but I am combating what is set up as MORAL argument for allowing them to be taken where they have never yet been---arguing against the EXTENSION of a bad thing, which where it already exists, we must of necessity, manage as we best can.
In support of his application of the doctrine of self-government, Senator Douglas has sought to bring to his aid the opinions and examples of our revolutionary fathers. I am glad he has done this. I love the sentiments of those old-time men; and shall be most happy to abide by their opinions. He shows us that when it was in contemplation for the colonies to break off from Great Britain, and set up a new government for themselves, several of the states instructed their delegates to go for the measure PROVIDED EACH STATE SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO REGULATE ITS DOMESTIC CONCERNS IN ITS OWN WAY. I do not quote; but this in substance. This was right. I see nothing objectionable in it. I also think it probable that it had some reference to the existence of slavery amongst them. I will not deny that it had. But had it, in any reference to the carrying of slavery into NEW COUNTRIES? That is the question; and we will let the fathers themselves answer it.
This same generation of men, and mostly the same individuals of the generation, who declared this principle---who declared independence---who fought the war of the revolution through---who afterwards made the constitution under which we still live---these same men passed the ordinance of '87, declaring that slavery should never go to the north-west territory. I have no doubt Judge Douglas thinks they were very inconsistent in this. It is a question of discrimination between them and him. But there is not an inch of ground left for his claiming that their opinions---their example---their authority---are on his side in this controversy.
Again, is not Nebraska, while a territory, a part of us? Do we not own the country? And if we surrender the control of it, do we not surrender the right of self-government? It is part of ourselves. If you say we shall not control it because it is ONLY part, the same is true of every other part; and when all the parts are gone, what has become of the whole? What is then left of us? What use for the general government, when there is nothing left for it [to] govern?
But you say this question should be left to the people of Nebraska, because they are more particularly interested. If this be the rule, you must leave it to each individual to say for himself whether he will have slaves. What better moral right have thirty-one citizens of Nebraska to say, that the thirty-second shall not hold slaves, than the people of the thirty-one States have to say that slavery shall not go into the thirty-second State at all?
But if it is a sacred right for the people of Nebraska to take and hold slaves there, it is equally their sacred right to buy them where they can buy them cheapest; and that undoubtedly will be on the coast of Africa; provided you will consent to not hang them for going there to buy them. You must remove this restriction too, from the sacred right of self-government. I am aware you say that taking slaves from the States of Nebraska, does not make slaves of freemen; but the African slave-trader can say just as much. He does not catch free negroes and bring them here. He finds them already slaves in the hands of their black captors, and he honestly buys them at the rate of about a red cotton handkerchief a head. This is very cheap, and it is a great abridgement of the sacred right of self-government to hang men for engaging in this profitable trade!
Another important objection to this application of the right of self-government, is that it enables the first FEW, to deprive the succeeding MANY, of a free exercise of the right of self-government. The first few may get slavery IN, and the subsequent many cannot easily get it OUT. How common is the remark now in the slave States---"If we were only clear of our slaves, how much better it would be for us." They are actually deprived of the privilege of governing themselves as they would, by the action of a very few, in the beginning. The same thing was true of the whole nation at the time our constitution was formed.
Whether slavery shall go into Nebraska, or other new territories, is not a matter of exclusive concern to the people who may go there. The whole nation is interested that the best use shall be made of these territories. We want them for the homes of free white people. This they cannot be, to any considerable extent, if slavery shall be planted within them. Slave States are places for poor white people to remove FROM; not to remove TO. New free States are the places for poor people to go to and better their condition. For this use, the nation needs these territories.
Still further; there are constitutional relations between the slave and free States, which are degrading to the latter. We are under legal obligations to catch and return their runaway slaves to them---a sort of dirty, disagreeable job, which I believe, as a general rule the slave-holders will not perform for one another. Then again, in the control of the government---the management of the partnership affairs---they have greatly the advantage of us. By the constitution, each State has two Senators---each has a number of Representatives; in proportion to the number of its people---and each has a number of presidential electors, equal to the whole number of its Senators and Representatives together. But in ascertaining the number of the people, for this purpose, five slaves are counted as being equal to three whites. The slaves do not vote; they are only counted and so used, as to swell the influence of the white people's votes. The practical effect of this is more aptly shown by a comparison of the States of South Carolina and Maine. South Carolina has six representatives, and so has Maine; South Carolina has eight presidential electors, and so has Maine. This is precise equality so far; and, of course they are equal in Senators, each having two. Thus in the control of the government, the two States are equals precisely. But how are they in the number of their white people? Maine has 581,813---while South Carolina has 274,567. Maine has twice as many as South Carolina, and 32,679 over. Thus each white man in South Carolina is more than the double of any man in Maine. This is all because South Carolina, besides her free people, has 384,984 slaves. The South Carolinian has precisely the same advantage over the white man in every other free State, as well as in Maine. He is more than the double of any one of us in this crowd. The same advantage, but not to the same extent, is held by all the citizens of the slave States, over those of the free; and it is an absolute truth, without an exception, that there is no voter in any slave State, but who has more legal power in the government, than any voter in any free State. There is no instance of exact equality; and the disadvantage is against us the whole chapter through. This principle, in the aggregate, gives the slave States, in the present Congress, twenty additional representatives---being seven more than the whole majority by which they passed the Nebraska bill.
Now all this is manifestly unfair; yet I do not mention it to complain of it, in so far as it is already settled. It is in the constitution; and I do not, for that cause, or any other cause, propose to destroy, or alter, or disregard the constitution. I stand to it, fairly, fully, and firmly.
But when I am told I must leave it altogether to OTHER PEOPLE to say whether new partners are to be bred up and brought into the firm, on the same degrading terms against me. I respectfully demur. I insist, that whether I shall be a whole man, or only, the half of one, in comparison with others, is a question in which I am somewhat concerned; and one which no other man can have a sacred right of deciding for me. If I am wrong in this---if it really be a sacred right of self-government, in the man who shall go to Nebraska, to decide whether he will be the EQUAL of me or the DOUBLE of me, then after he shall have exercised that right, and thereby shall have reduced me to a still smaller fraction of a man than I already am, I should like for some gentleman deeply skilled in the mysteries of sacred rights, to provide himself with a microscope, and peep about, and find out, if he can, what has become of my sacred rights! They will surely be too small for detection with the naked eye.
Finally, I insist, that if there is ANY THING which it is the duty of the WHOLE PEOPLE to never entrust to any hands but their own, that thing is the preservation and perpetuity, of their own liberties, and institutions. And if they shall think, as I do, that the extension of slavery endangers them, more than any, or all other causes, how recreant to themselves, if they submit the question, and with it, the fate of their country, to a mere hand-full of men, bent only on temporary self-interest. If this question of slavery extension were an insignificant one---one having no power to do harm---it might be shuffled aside in this way. But being, as it is, the great Behemoth of danger, shall the strong gripe of the nation be loosened upon him, to entrust him to the hands of such feeble keepers?
I have done with this mighty argument, of self-government. Go, sacred thing! Go in peace.
But Nebraska is urged as a great Union-saving measure. Well I too, go for saving the Union. Much as I hate slavery, I would consent to the extension of it rather than see the Union dissolved, just as I would consent to any GREAT evil, to avoid a GREATER one. But when I go to Union saving, I must believe, at least, that the means I employ has some adaptation to the end. To my mind, Nebraska has no such adaptation.
"It hath no relish of salvation in it."
It is an aggravation, rather, of the only one thing which ever endangers the Union. When it came upon us, all was peace and quiet. The nation was looking to the forming of new bonds of Union; and a long course of peace and prosperity seemed to lie before us. In the whole range of possibility, there scarcely appears to me to have been any thing, out of which the slavery agitation could have been revived, except the very project of repealing the Missouri compromise. Every inch of territory we owned, already had a definite settlement of the slavery question, and by which, all parties were pledged to abide. Indeed, there was no uninhabited country on the continent, which we could acquire; if we except some extreme northern regions, which are wholly out of the question. In this state of case, the genius of Discord himself, could scarcely have invented a way of again getting [setting?] us by the ears, but by turning back and destroying the peace measures of the past. The councils of that genius seem to have prevailed, the Missouri compromise was repealed; and here we are, in the midst of a new slavery agitation, such, I think, as we have never seen before.
Who is responsible for this? Is it those who resist the measure; or those who, causelessly, brought it forward, and pressed it through, having reason to know, and, in fact, knowing it must and would be so resisted? It could not but be expected by its author, that it would be looked upon as a measure for the extension of slavery, aggravated by a gross breach of faith. Argue as you will, and long as you will, this is the naked FRONT and ASPECT, of the measure. And in this aspect, it could not but produce agitation. Slavery is founded in the selfishness of man's nature---opposition to it, is [in?] his love of justice. These principles are an eternal antagonism; and when brought into collision so fiercely, as slavery extension brings them, shocks, and throes, and convulsions must ceaselessly follow. Repeal the Missouri compromise---repeal all compromises---repeal the declaration of independence---repeal all past history, you still can not repeal human nature. It still will be the abundance of man's heart, that slavery extension is wrong; and out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth will continue to speak.
The structure, too, of the Nebraska bill is very peculiar. The people are to decide the question of slavery for themselves; but WHEN they are to decide; or HOW they are to decide; or whether, when the question is once decided, it is to remain so, or is it to be subject to an indefinite succession of new trials, the law does not say, Is it to be decided by the first dozen settlers who arrive there? or is it to await the arrival of a hundred? Is it to be decided by a vote of the people? or a vote of the legislature? or, indeed by a vote of any sort? To these questions, the law gives no answer. There is a mystery about this; for when a member proposed to give the legislature express authority to exclude slavery, it was hooted down by the friends of the bill. This fact is worth remembering. Some yankees, in the east, are sending emigrants to Nebraska, to exclude slavery from it; and, so far as I can judge, they expect the question to be decided by voting, in some way or other. But the Missourians are awake too. They are within a stone's throw of the contested ground. They hold meetings, and pass resolutions, in which not the slightest allusion to voting is made. They resolve that slavery already exists in the territory; that more shall go there; that they, remaining in Missouri will protect it; and that abolitionists shall be hung, or driven away. Through all this, bowie-knives and six-shooters are seen plainly enough; but never a glimpse of the ballot-box. And, really, what is to be the result of this? Each party WITHIN, having numerous and determined backers WITHOUT, is it not probable that the contest will come to blows, and bloodshed? Could there be a more apt invention to bring about collision and violence, on the slavery question, than this Nebraska project is? I do not charge, or believe, that such was intended by Congress; but if they had literally formed a ring, and placed champions within it to fight out the controversy, the fight could be no more likely to come off, than it is. And if this fight should begin, is it likely to take a very peaceful, Union-saving turn? Will not the first drop of blood so shed, be the real knell of the Union?
The Missouri Compromise ought to be restored. For the sake of the Union, it ought to be restored. We ought to elect a House of Representatives which will vote its restoration. If by any means, we omit to do this, what follows? Slavery may or may not be established in Nebraska. But whether it be or not, we shall have repudiated---discarded from the councils of the Nation---the SPIRIT of COMPROMISE; for who after this will ever trust in a national compromise? The spirit of mutual concession---that spirit which first gave us the constitution, and which has thrice saved the Union---we shall have strangled and cast from us forever. And what shall we have in lieu of it? The South flushed with triumph and tempted to excesses; the North, betrayed, as they believe, brooding on wrong and burning for revenge. One side will provoke; the other resent. The one will taunt, the other defy; one agrees [aggresses?], the other retaliates. Already a few in the North, defy all constitutional restraints, resist the execution of the fugitive slave law, and even menace the institution of slavery in the states where it exists.
Already a few in the South, claim the constitutional right to take to and hold slaves in the free states---demand the revival of the slave trade; and demand a treaty with Great Britain by which fugitive slaves may be reclaimed from Canada. As yet they are but few on either side. It is a grave question for the lovers of the Union, whether the final destruction of the Missouri Compromise, and with it the spirit of all compromise will or will not embolden and embitter each of these, and fatally increase the numbers of both.
But restore the compromise, and what then? We thereby restore the national faith, the national confidence, the national feeling of brotherhood. We thereby reinstate the spirit of concession and compromise---that spirit which has never failed us in past perils, and which may be safely trusted for all the future. The south ought to join in doing this. The peace of the nation is as dear to them as to us. In memories of the past and hopes of the future, they share as largely as we. It would be on their part, a great act---great in its spirit, and great in its effect. It would be worth to the nation a hundred years' purchase of peace and prosperity. And what of sacrifice would they make? They only surrender to us, what they gave us for a consideration long, long ago; what they have not now, asked for, struggled or cared for; what has been thrust upon them, not less to their own astonishment than to ours.
But it is said we cannot restore it; that though we elect every member of the lower house, the Senate is still against us. It is quite true, that of the Senators who passed the Nebraska bill, a majority of the whole Senate will retain their seats in spite of the elections of this and the next year. But if at these elections, their several constituencies shall clearly express their will against Nebraska, will these senators disregard their will? Will they neither obey, nor make room for those who will?
But even if we fail to technically restore the compromise, it is still a great point to carry a popular vote in favor of the restoration. The moral weight of such a vote can not be estimated too highly. The authors of Nebraska are not at all satisfied with the destruction of the compromise---an endorsement of this PRINCIPLE, they proclaim to be the great object. With them, Nebraska alone is a small matter---to establish a principle, for FUTURE USE, is what they particularly desire.
That future use is to be the planting of slavery wherever in the wide world, local and unorganized opposition can not prevent it. Now if you wish to give them this endorsement---if you wish to establish this principle---do so. I shall regret it; but it is your right. On the contrary if you are opposed to the principle---intend to give it no such endorsement---let no wheedling, no sophistry, divert you from throwing a direct vote against it.
Some men, mostly whigs, who condemn the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, nevertheless hesitate to go for its restoration, lest they be thrown in company with the abolitionist. Will they allow me as an old whig to tell them good humoredly, that I think this is very silly? Stand with anybody that stands RIGHT. Stand with him while he is right and PART with him when he goes wrong. Stand WITH the abolitionist in restoring the Missouri Compromise; and stand AGAINST him when he attempts to repeal the fugitive slave law. In the latter case you stand with the southern disunionist. What of that? you are still right. In both cases you are right. In both cases you oppose [expose?] the dangerous extremes. In both you stand on middle ground and hold the ship level and steady. In both you are national and nothing less than national. This is good old whig ground. To desert such ground, because of any company, is to be less than a whig---less than a man---less than an American.
I particularly object to the NEW position which the avowed principle of this Nebraska law gives to slavery in the body politic. I object to it because it assumes that there CAN be MORAL RIGHT in the enslaving of one man by another. I object to it as a dangerous dalliance for a few [free?] people---a sad evidence that, feeling prosperity we forget right---that liberty, as a principle, we have ceased to revere. I object to it because the fathers of the republic eschewed, and rejected it. The argument of "Necessity" was the only argument they ever admitted in favor of slavery; and so far, and so far only as it carried them, did they ever go. They found the institution existing among us, which they could not help; and they cast blame upon the British King for having permitted its introduction. BEFORE the constitution, they prohibited its introduction into the north-western Territory---the only country we owned, then free from it. AT the framing and adoption of the constitution, they forbore to so much as mention the word "slave" or "slavery" in the whole instrument. In the provision for the recovery of fugitives, the slave is spoken of as a "PERSON HELD TO SERVICE OR LABOR." In that prohibiting the abolition of the African slave trade for twenty years, that trade is spoken of as "The migration or importation of such persons as any of the States NOW EXISTING, shall think proper to admit," &c. These are the only provisions alluding to slavery. Thus, the thing is hid away, in the constitution, just as an afflicted man hides away a wen or a cancer, which he dares not cut out at once, lest he bleed to death; with the promise, nevertheless, that the cutting may begin at the end of a given time. Less than this our fathers COULD not do; and NOW [MORE?] they WOULD not do. Necessity drove them so far, and farther, they would not go. But this is not all. The earliest Congress, under the constitution, took the same view of slavery. They hedged and hemmed it in to the narrowest limits of necessity.
In 1794, they prohibited an out-going slave-trade---that is, the taking of slaves FROM the United States to sell.
In 1798, they prohibited the bringing of slaves from Africa, INTO the Mississippi Territory---this territory then comprising what are now the States of Mississippi and Alabama. This was TEN YEARS before they had the authority to do the same thing as to the States existing at the adoption of the constitution.
In 1800 they prohibited AMERICAN CITIZENS from trading in slaves between foreign countries---as, for instance, from Africa to Brazil.
In 1803 they passed a law in aid of one or two State laws, in restraint of the internal slave trade.
In 1807, in apparent hot haste, they passed the law, nearly a year in advance to take effect the first day of 1808---the very first day the constitution would permit---prohibiting the African slave trade by heavy pecuniary and corporal penalties.
In 1820, finding these provisions ineffectual, they declared the trade piracy, and annexed to it, the extreme penalty of death. While all this was passing in the general government, five or six of the original slave States had adopted systems of gradual emancipation; and by which the institution was rapidly becoming extinct within these limits.
Thus we see, the plain unmistakable spirit of that age, towards slavery, was hostility to the PRINCIPLE, and toleration, ONLY BY NECESSITY.
But NOW it is to be transformed into a "sacred right." Nebraska brings it forth, places it on the high road to extension and perpetuity; and, with a pat on its back, says to it, "Go, and God speed you." Henceforth it is to be the chief jewel of the nation---the very figure-head of the ship of State. Little by little, but steadily as man's march to the grave, we have been giving up the OLD for the NEW faith. Near eighty years ago we began by declaring that all men are created equal; but now from that beginning we have run down to the other declaration, that for SOME men to enslave OTHERS is a "sacred right of self-government." These principles can not stand together. They are as opposite as God and mammon; and whoever holds to the one, must despise the other. When Pettit, in connection with his support of the Nebraska bill, called the Declaration of Independence "a self-evident lie" he only did what consistency and candor require all other Nebraska men to do. Of the forty odd Nebraska Senators who sat present and heard him, no one rebuked him. Nor am I apprized that any Nebraska newspaper, or any Nebraska orator, in the whole nation, has ever yet rebuked him. If this had been said among Marion's men, Southerners though they were, what would have become of the man who said it? If this had been said to the men who captured Andre, the man who said it, would probably have been hung sooner than Andre was. If it had been said in old Independence Hall, seventy-eight years ago, the very door-keeper would have throttled the man, and thrust him into the street.
Let no one be deceived. The spirit of seventy-six and the spirit of Nebraska, are utter antagonisms; and the former is being rapidly displaced by the latter.
Fellow countrymen---Americans south, as well as north, shall we make no effort to arrest this? Already the liberal party throughout the world, express the apprehension "that the one retrograde institution in America, is undermining the principles of progress, and fatally violating the noblest political system the world ever saw." This is not the taunt of enemies, but the warning of friends. Is it quite safe to disregard it---to despise it? Is there no danger to liberty itself, in discarding the earliest practice, and first precept of our ancient faith? In our greedy chase to make profit of the negro, let us beware, lest we "cancel and tear to pieces" even the white man's charter of freedom.
Our republican robe is soiled, and trailed in the dust. Let us repurify it. Let us turn and wash it white, in the spirit, if not the blood, of the Revolution. Let us turn slavery from its claims of "moral right," back upon its existing legal rights, and its arguments of "necessity." Let us return it to the position our fathers gave it; and there let it rest in peace. Let us re-adopt the Declaration of Independence, and with it, the practices, and policy, which harmonize with it. Let north and south---let all Americans---let all lovers of liberty everywhere---join in the great and good work. If we do this, we shall not only have saved the Union; but we shall have so saved it, as to make, and to keep it, forever worthy of the saving. We shall have so saved it, that the succeeding millions of free happy people, the world over, shall rise up, and call us blessed, to the latest generations.
At Springfield, twelve days ago, where I had spoken substantially as I have here, Judge Douglas replied to me---and as he is to reply to me here, I shall attempt to anticipate him, by noticing some of the points he made there.
He commenced by stating I had assumed all the way through, that the principle of the Nebraska bill, would have the effect of extending slavery. He denied that this was INTENDED, or that this EFFECT would follow.
I will not re-open the argument upon this point. That such was the intention, the world believed at the start, and will continue to believe. This was the COUNTENANCE of the thing; and, both friends and enemies, instantly recognized it as such. That countenance can not now be changed by argument. You can as easily argue the color out of the negroes' skin. Like the "bloody hand" you may wash it, and wash it, the red witness of guilt still sticks, and stares horribly at you.
Next he says, congressional intervention never prevented slavery, any where---that it did not prevent it in the north west territory, now [nor?] in Illinois---that in fact, Illinois came into the Union as a slave State---that the principle of the Nebraska bill expelled it from Illinois, from several old States, from every where.
Now this is mere quibbling all the way through. If the ordinance of '87 did not keep slavery out of the north west territory, how happens it that the north west shore of the Ohio river is entirely free from it; while the south east shore, less than a mile distant, along nearly the whole length of the river, is entirely covered with it?
If that ordinance did not keep it out of Illinois, what was it that made the difference between Illinois and Missouri? They lie side by side, the Mississippi river only dividing them; while their early settlements were within the same latitude. Between 1810 and 1820 the number of slaves in Missouri INCREASED 7,211; while in Illinois, in the same ten years, they DECREASED 51. This appears by the census returns. During nearly all of that ten years, both were territories---not States. During this time, the ordinance forbid slavery to go into Illinois; and NOTHING forbid it to go into Missouri. It DID go into Missouri, and did NOT go into Illinois. That is the fact. Can any one doubt as to the reason of it?
But, he says, Illinois came into the Union as a slave State. Silence, perhaps, would be the best answer to this flat contradiction of the known history of the country. What are the facts upon which this bold assertion is based? When we first acquired the country, as far back as 1787, there were some slaves within it, held by the French inhabitants at Kaskaskia. The territorial legislation, admitted a few negroes, from the slave States, as indentured servants. One year after the adoption of the first State constitution the whole number of them was---what do you think? just 117---while the aggregate free population was 55,094---about 470 to one. Upon this state of facts, the people framed their constitution prohibiting the further introduction of slavery, with a sort of guaranty to the owners of the few indentured servants, giving freedom to their children to be born thereafter, and making no mention whatever, of any supposed slave for life. Out of this small matter, the Judge manufactures his argument that Illinois came into the Union as a slave State. Let the facts be the answer to the argument.
The principles of the Nebraska bill, he says, expelled slavery from Illinois? The principle of that bill first planted it here---that is, it first came, because there was no law to prevent it---first came before we owned the country; and finding it here, and having the ordinance of '87 to prevent its increasing, our people struggled along, and finally got rid of it as best they could.
But the principle of the Nebraska bill abolished slavery in several of the old States. Well, it is true that several of the old States, in the last quarter of the last century, did adopt systems of gradual emancipation, by which the institution has finally become extinct within their limits; but it MAY or MAY NOT be true that the principle of the Nebraska bill was the cause that led to the adoption of these measures. It is now more than fifty years, since the last of these States adopted its system of emancipation. If Nebraska bill is the real author of these benevolent works, it is rather deplorable, that he has, for so long a time, ceased working all together. Is there not some reason to suspect that it was the principle of the REVOLUTION, and not the principle of Nebraska bill, that led to emancipation in these old States? Leave it to the people of those old emancipating States, and I am quite sure they will decide, that neither that, nor any other good thing, ever did, or ever will come of Nebraska bill.
In the course of my main argument, Judge Douglas interrupted me to say, that the principle [of] the Nebraska bill was very old; that it originated when God made man and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to choose for himself, being responsible for the choice he should make. At the time I thought this was merely playful; and I answered it accordingly. But in his reply to me he renewed it, as a serious argument. In seriousness then, the facts of this proposition are not true as stated. God did not place good and evil before man, telling him to make his choice. On the contrary, he did tell him there was one tree, of the fruit of which, he should not eat, upon pain of certain death. I should scarcely wish so strong a prohibition against slavery in Nebraska.
But this argument strikes me as not a little remarkable in another particular---in its strong resemblance to the old argument for the "Divine right of Kings." By the latter, the King is to do just as he pleases with his white subjects, being responsible to God alone. By the former the white man is to do just as he pleases with his black slaves, being responsible to God alone. The two things are precisely alike; and it is but natural that they should find similar arguments to sustain them.
I had argued, that the application of the principle of self-government, as contended for, would require the revival of the African slave trade---that no argument could be made in favor of a man's right to take slaves to Nebraska, which could not be equally well made in favor of his right to bring them from the coast of Africa. The Judge replied, that the constitution requires the suppression of the foreign slave trade; but does not require the prohibition of slavery in the territories. That is a mistake, in point of fact. The constitution does NOT require the action of Congress in either case; and it does AUTHORIZE it in both. And so, there is still no difference between the cases.
In regard to what I had said, the advantage the slave States have over the free, in the matter of representation, the Judge replied that we, in the free States, count five free negroes as five white people, while in the slave States, they count five slaves as three whites only; and that the advantage, at last, was on the side of the free States.
Now, in the slave States, they count free negroes just as we do; and it so happens that besides their slaves, they have as many free negroes as we have, and thirty-three thousand over. Thus their free negroes more than balance ours; and their advantage over us, in consequence of their slaves, still remains as I stated it.
In reply to my argument, that the compromise measures of 1850, were a system of equivalents; and that the provisions of no one of them could fairly be carried to other subjects, without its corresponding equivalent being carried with it, the Judge denied out-right, that these measures had any connection with, or dependence upon, each other. This is mere desperation. If they have no connection, why are they always spoken of in connection? Why has he so spoken of them, a thousand times? Why has he constantly called them a SERIES of measures? Why does everybody call them a compromise? Why was California kept out of the Union, six or seven months, if it was not because of its connection with the other measures? Webster's leading definition of the verb "to compromise" is "to adjust and settle a difference, by mutual agreement with concessions of claims by the parties." This conveys precisely the popular understanding of the word compromise. We knew, before the Judge told us, that these measures passed separately, and in distinct bills; and that no two of them were passed by the votes of precisely the same members. But we also know, and so does he know, that no one of them could have passed both branches of Congress but for the understanding that the others were to pass also. Upon this understanding each got votes, which it could have got in no other way. It is this fact, that gives to the measures their true character; and it is the universal knowledge of this fact, that has given them the name of compromise so expressive of that true character.
I had asked "If in carrying the provisions of the Utah and New Mexico laws to Nebraska, you could clear away other objection, how can you leave Nebraska 'perfectly free' to introduce slavery BEFORE she forms a constitution---during her territorial government?---while the Utah and New Mexico laws only authorize it WHEN they form constitutions, and are admitted into the Union?" To this Judge Douglas answered that the Utah and New Mexico laws, also authorized it BEFORE; and to prove this, he read from one of their laws, as follows: "That the legislative power of said territory shall extend to all rightful subjects of legislation consistent with the constitution of the United States and the provisions of this act."
Now it is perceived from the reading of this, that there is nothing express upon the subject; but that the authority is sought to be implied merely, for the general provision of "all rightful subjects of legislation." In reply to this, I insist, as a legal rule of construction, as well as the plain popular view of the matter, that the EXPRESS provision for Utah and New Mexico coming in with slavery if they choose, when they shall form constitutions, is an EXCLUSION of all implied authority on the same subject---that Congress, having the subject distinctly in their minds, when they made the express provision, they therein expressed their WHOLE meaning on that subject.
The Judge rather insinuated that I had found it convenient to forget the Washington territorial law passed in 1853. This was a division of Oregon, organizing the northern part, as the territory of Washington. He asserted that, by this act, the ordinance of '87 theretofore existing in Oregon, was repealed; that nearly all the members of Congress voted for it, beginning in the H.R., with Charles Allen of Massachusetts, and ending with Richard Yates, of Illinois; and that he could not understand how those who now oppose the Nebraska bill, so voted then, unless it was because it was then too soon after both the great political parties had ratified the compromises of 1850, and the ratification therefore too fresh, to be then repudiated.
Now I had seen the Washington act before; and I have carefully examined it since; and I aver that there is no repeal of the ordinance of '87, or of any prohibition of slavery, in it. In express terms, there is absolutely nothing in the whole law upon the subject---in fact, nothing to lead a reader to THINK of the subject. To my judgment, it is equally free from every thing from which such repeal can be legally implied; but however this may be, are men now to be entrapped by a legal implication, extracted from covert language, introduced perhaps, for the very purpose of entrapping them? I sincerely wish every man could read this law quite through, carefully watching every sentence, and every line, for a repeal of the ordinance of '87 or any thing equivalent to it.
Another point on the Washington act. If it was intended to be modelled after the Utah and New Mexico acts, as Judge Douglas, insists, why was it not inserted in it, as in them, that Washington was to come in with or without slavery as she may choose at the adoption of her constitution? It has no such provision in it; and I defy the ingenuity of man to give a reason for the omission, other than that it was not intended to follow the Utah and New Mexico laws in regard to the question of slavery.
The Washington act not only differs vitally from the Utah and New Mexico acts; but the Nebraska act differs vitally from both. By the latter act the people are left ``perfectly free'' to regulate their own domestic concerns, &c.; but in all the former, all their laws are to be submitted to Congress, and if disapproved are to be null. The Washington act goes even further; it absolutely prohibits the territorial legislation [legislature?], by very strong and guarded language, from establishing banks, or borrowing money on the faith of the territory. Is this the sacred right of self-government we hear vaunted so much? No sir, the Nebraska bill finds no model in the acts of '50 or the Washington act. It finds no model in any law from Adam till today. As Phillips says of Napoleon, the Nebraska act is grand, gloomy, and peculiar; wrapped in the solitude of its own originality; without a model, and without a shadow upon the earth.
In the course of his reply, Senator Douglas remarked, in substance, that he had always considered this government was made for the white people and not for the negroes. Why, in point of mere fact, I think so too. But in this remark of the Judge, there is a significance, which I think is the key to the great mistake (if there is any such mistake) which he has made in this Nebraska measure. It shows that the Judge has no very vivid impression that the negro is a human; and consequently has no idea that there can be any moral question in legislating about him. In his view, the question of whether a new country shall be slave or free, is a matter of as utter indifference, as it is whether his neighbor shall plant his farm with tobacco, or stock it with horned cattle. Now, whether this view is right or wrong, it is very certain that the great mass of mankind take a totally different view. They consider slavery a great moral wrong; and their feelings against it, is not evanescent, but eternal. It lies at the very foundation of their sense of justice; and it cannot be trifled with. It is a great and durable element of popular action, and, I think, no statesman can safely disregard it.
Our Senator also objects that those who oppose him in this measure do not entirely agree with one another. He reminds me that in my firm adherence to the constitutional rights of the slave States, I differ widely from others who are co-operating with me in opposing the Nebraska bill; and he says it is not quite fair to oppose him in this variety of ways. He should remember that he took us by surprise---astounded us---by this measure. We were thunderstruck and stunned; and we reeled and fell in utter confusion. But we rose each fighting, grasping whatever he could first reach---a scythe---a pitchfork---a chopping axe, or a butcher's cleaver. We struck in the direction of the sound; and we are rapidly closing in upon him. He must not think to divert us from our purpose, by showing us that our drill, our dress, and our weapons, are not entirely perfect and uniform. When the storm shall be past, he shall find us still Americans; no less devoted to the continued Union and prosperity of the country than heretofore.
Finally, the Judge invokes against me, the memory of Clay and of Webster. They were great men; and men of great deeds. But where have I assailed them? For what is it, that their life-long enemy, shall now make profit, by assuming to defend them against me, their life-long friend? I go against the repeal of the Missouri compromise; did they ever go for it? They went for the compromise of 1850; did I ever go against them? They were greatly devoted to the Union; to the small measure of my ability, was I ever less so? Clay and Webster were dead before this question arose; by what authority shall our Senator say they would espouse his side of it, if alive? Mr. Clay was the leading spirit in making the Missouri compromise; is it very credible that if now alive, he would take the lead in the breaking of it? The truth is that some support from whigs is now a necessity with the Judge, and for thus it is, that the names of Clay and Webster are now invoked. His old friends have deserted him in such numbers as to leave too few to live by. He came to his own, and his own received him not, and Lo! he turns unto the Gentiles.
A word now as to the Judge's desperate assumption that the compromises of '50 had no connection with one another; that Illinois came into the Union as a slave state, and some other similar ones. This is no other than a bold denial of the history of the country. If we do not know that the Compromises of '50 were dependent on each other; if we do not know that Illinois came into the Union as a free state---we do not know any thing. If we do not know these things, we do not know that we ever had a revolutionary war, or such a chief as Washington. To deny these things is to deny our national axioms, or dogmas, at least; and it puts an end to all argument. If a man will stand up and assert, and repeat, and re-assert, that two and two do not make four, I know nothing in the power of argument that can stop him. I think I can answer the Judge so long as he sticks to the premises; but when he flies from them, I can not work an argument into the consistency of a maternal gag, and actually close his mouth with it. In such a case I can only commend him to the seventy thousand answers just in from Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana.
Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Convention.
If we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could better judge what to do, and how to do it.
We are now far into the fifth year, since a policy was initiated, with the avowed object, and confident promise, of putting an end to slavery agitation.
Under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only, not ceased, but has constantly augmented.
In my opinion, it will not cease, until a crisis shall have been reached, and passed -
"A house divided against itself cannot stand."
I believe this government cannot endure, permanently half slave and half free.
I do not expect the Union to be dissolved - I do not expect the house to fall - but I do expect it will cease to be divided.
It will become all one thing, or all the other.
Either the opponents of slavery, will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new-North as well as South.
Have we no tendency to the latter condition?
Let any one who doubts, carefully contemplate that now almost complete legal combination - piece of machinery so to speak- compounded of the Nebraska doctrine, and the Dred Scott decision. Let him consider not only what work the machinery is adapted to do, and how well adapted; but also, let him study the history of its construction, and trace, if he can, or rather fail, if he can, to trace the evidences of design and concert of action, among its chief bosses, from the beginning.
But, so far, Congress only, had acted; and an indorsement by the people, real or apparent, was indispensable, to save the point already gained, and give chance for more.
The new year of 1854 found slavery excluded from more than half the State by State Constitutions, and from most of the national territory by congressional prohibition.
Four days later, commenced the struggle, which ended in repealing that congressional prohibition.
This opened all the national territory to slavery; and was the first point gained.
This necessity had not been overlooked; but had been provided for, as well as might be, in the notable argument of "squatter sovereignty," otherwise called "sacred right of self government," which latter phrase, though expressive of the only rightful basis of any government, was so perverted in this attempted use of it as to amount to just this: That if any one man, choose to enslave another, no third man shall be allowed to object.
That argument was incorporated into the Nebraska bill itself, in the language which follows: "It being the true intent and meaning of this act not to legislate slavery into any Territory or State, nor to exclude it therefrom; but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject only to the Constitution of the United States."
Then opened the roar of loose declamation in favor of "Squatter Sovereignty," and "Sacred right of self government."
"But," said opposition members, "let us be more specific- let us amend the bill so as to expressly declare that the people of the Territory may exclude slavery." "Not we," said the friends of the measure; and down they voted the amendment.
While the Nebraska bill was passing through congress, a law case, involving the question of a negro's freedom, by reason of his owner having voluntarily taken him first into a free State and then a territory covered by the congressional prohibition, and held him as a slave for a long time in each, was passing through the U.S. Circuit Court for the District of Missouri; and both Nebraska bill and law suit were brought to a decision in the same month of May, 1854. The negro's name was "Dred Scott," which name now designates the decision finally made in the case.
Before the then next Presidential election, the law case came to, and was argued in the Supreme Court of the United States; but the decision of it was deferred until after the election. Still, before the election, Senator Trumbull, on the floor of the Senate, requests the leading advocate of the Nebraska bill to state his opinion whether the people of a territory can constitutionally exclude slavery from their limits; and the latter answers, "That is a question for the Supreme Court."
The election came. Mr. Buchanan was elected, and the indorsement, such as it was, secured. That was the second point gained. The indorsement, however, fell short of a clear popular majority by nearly four hundred thousand votes, and so, perhaps, was not over-whelmingly reliable and satisfactory.
The outgoing President, in his last annual message, as impressively as possible echoed back upon the people the weight and authority of the indorsement.
The Supreme Court met again, did not announce their decision, but ordered a re-argument.
The Presidential inauguration came, and still no decision of the court; but the incoming President, in his inaugural address, fervently exhorted the people to abide by the forthcoming decision, whatever it might be.
Then, in a few days, came the decision.
The reputed author of the Nebraska bill finds an early occasion to make a speech at this capitol indorsing the Dred Scott Decision, and vehemently denouncing all opposition to it.
The new President, too, seizes the early occasion of the Silliman letter to indorse and strongly construe that decision, and to express his astonishment than any different view had ever been entertained.
At length a squabble springs up between the President and the author of the Nebraska bill, on the mere question of fact, whether the Lecompton constitution was or was not, in any just sense, made by the people of Kansas; and in that quarrel the latter declares that all he wants is a fair vote for the people, and that he cares not whether slavery be voted down or voted up. I do not understand his declaration that he cares not whether slavery be voted down or voted up, to be intended by him other than as an apt definition of the policy he would impress upon the public mind - the principle for which he declares he has suffered much, and is ready to suffer to the end.
And well may he cling to that principle. If he has any parental feeling, well may he cling to it. That principle, is the only shred left of his original Nebraska doctrine. Under the Dred Scott decision, "squatter sovereignty" squatted out of existence, tumbled down like temporary scaffolding - like the mold at the foundry served through one blast and fell back into loose sand - helped to carry an election, and then was kicked to the winds. His late joint struggle with the Republicans, against the Lecompton Constitution, involves nothing of the original Nebraska doctrine. That struggle was made on a point, the right of a people to make their own constitution, upon which he and the Republicans have never differed.
The several points of the Dred Scott decision, in connection with Senator Douglas' "care not" policy, constitute the piece of machinery, in its present state of advancement.
The working points of that machinery are:
First, that no negro slave, imported as such from Africa, and no descendant of such slave can ever be a citizen of any State, in the sense of that term as used in the Constitution of the United States.
This point is made in order to deprive the negro, in every possible event, of the benefit of that provision of the United States Constitution, which declares that -
"The citizens of each State shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several States."
Secondly, that "subject to the Constitution of the United States," neither Congress nor a Territorial Legislature can exclude slavery from any United States Territory.
This point is made in order that individual men may fill up the territories with slaves, without danger of losing them as property, and thus enhance the chances of permanency to the institution through all the future.
Thirdly, that whether the holding a negro in actual slavery in a free State, makes him free, as against the holder, the United States courts will not decide, but will leave to be decided by the courts of any slave State the negro may be forced into by the master.
This point is made, not to be pressed immediately; but, if acquiesced in for a while, and apparently indorsed by the people at an election, then ro sustain the logical conclusion that what Dred Scott's master might lawfully do with Dred Scott, in the free State of Illinois, every other master may lawfully do with any other one or one thousand slaves, in Illinois, or in any other free State.
Auxiliary to all this, and working hand in hand with it, the Nebraska doctrine, or what is left of it, is to educate and mould public opinion, at least Northern public opinion, to not care whether slavery is voted down or voted up.
This shows exactly where we now are; and partially also, whither we are tending.
It will throw additional light on the latter, to go back, and run the mind over the string of historical facts already stated. Several things will now appear less dark and mysterious than they did when they were transpiring. The people were to be left "perfectly free" "subject only to the Constitution." What the Constitution had to do with it, outsides could not then see. Plainly enough now, it was an exactly fitted nitch for the Dred Scott decision to afterward come in, and declare that perfect freedom of the people, to be just no freedom at all.
Why was the amendment, expressly declaring the right of the people to exclude slavery, voted down? Plainly enough now, the adoption of it, would have spoiled the nitch for the Dred Scott decision.
Why was the court decision held up? Why, even a Senator's individual opinion withheld, till after the Presidential election? Plainly enough now, the speaking out then would have damaged the "perfectly free" argument upon which the election was to be carried.
Why the outgoing President's felicitation on the indorsement? Why the delay of a reargument? Why the incoming President's advance exhortation in favor of the decision?
These things look like the cautious patting and petting of a spirited horse, preparatory to mounting him, when it is dreaded that he may give the rider a fall.
Any why the hasty after indorsements of the decision by the President and others?
We cannot absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are the result of preconcert. But when we see a lot of framed timbers, different potions of which we know have been gotten out at different times and places and by different workmen,- Stephen, Franklin, Roger and James, for instance-and we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tenons and mortieses exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few-not omitting even scaffolding-or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared to yet bring such piece in-in such a case, we find it impossible not to believe that Stephen and Franklin and Roger and James all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first lick was struck.
It should not be overlooked that, by the Nebraska bill, the people of State as well as Territory, were to be left "perfectly free" "subject only to the Constitution."
Why mention a State? They were legislating for territories, and not for or about States. Certainly the people of a State are and ought to be subject to the Constitution of the United States; but why is mention of this lugged into this merely territorial law? Why are the people of a territory and the people of a state therein lumped together, and their relation to the Constitution therein treated as being precisely the same?
While the opinion of the Court, by Chief Justice Taney, in the Dred Scott case, and the separate opinions of all the concurring Judges, expressly declare that the Constitution of the United States neither permits Congress nor a territorial legislature to exclude slavery from any United States territory, they all omit to declare whether or not the same Constitution permits a state, or the people of a State to exclude it.
Possibly, this is a mere omission; but who can be quite sure, if McLean or Curtis had sought to get into the opinion a declaration of unlimited power in the people of a state to exclude slavery from their limits, just as Chase and Mace sought to get such declaration, in behalf of the people of a territory, into the Nebraska bill-I ask, who can be quite sure that it would not have been voted down, in the one case, as it had been in the other?
The nearest approach to the point of declaring the power of a State over slavery, is made by Judge Nelson. He approaches it more than once, using the precise idea, and almost the language too, of the Nebraska act. On one occasion his exact language is, "except in cases where the power is restrained by the Constitution of the United States, the law of the State is supreme over the subject of slavery within its jurisdiction."
In what cases the power of the states is so restrained by the U.S. Constitution is left an open question, precisely as the same question, as to the restraint on the power of the territories was left open in the Nebraska act. Put that and that together, and we have another nice little nitch, which we may, ere long, see filled with another Supreme Court decision, declaring that the Constitution of the United States does not permit a state to exclude slavery from its limits.
And this may be expected if the doctrine of "care not whether slavery be voted down or voted up," shall gain upon the public mind sufficiently to give promise that such a decision can be maintained when made.
Such a decision is all that slavery now lacks of being alike lawful in all the States.
Welcome or unwelcome, such decision is probably coming, and will soon be upon us, unless the power of the present political dynasty shall be met and overthrown.
We shall lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of Missouri are on the verge of making their State free; and we shall awake to the reality, instead, that the Supreme Court has made Illinois a slave State.
To meet and overthrow the power of that dynasty, is the work now before all those who would prevent that consummation.
That is what we have to do.
But how can we best do it?
There are those who denounce us openly to their own friends, and yet whisper us softly, that Senator Douglas is the aptest instrument there is, with which to effect that object. They do not tell us, nor has he told us, that he wishes any such object to be effected. They wish us to infer all, from the facts, that he now has a little quarrel with the present head of the dynasty; and that he has regularly voted with us, on a single point, upon which, he and we, have never differed.
They remind us that he is a great man, and that the largest of us are very small ones. Let this be granted. But "a living dog is better than a dead lion." Judge Douglas, if not a dead lion for this work, is at least a caged and toothless one. How can he oppose the advance of slavery? He don't care anything about it. His avowed mission is impressing the "public heart" to care nothing about it.
A leading Douglas Democratic newspaper thinks Douglas' superior talent will be needed to resist the revival of the African slave trade.
Does Douglas believe an effort to revive that trade is approaching? He has not said so. Does he really think so? But if it is, how can he resist it? For years he has labored to prove it a sacred right of white men to take negro slaves into the new territories. Can he possibly show that it is less a sacred right to buy them where they can be brought cheapest? And, unquestionably they can be bought cheaper in Africa than in Virginia.
He has done all in his power to reduce the whole question of slavery to one of a mere right of property; and as such, how can he oppose the foreign slave trade-how can he refuse that trade in that "property" shall be "perfectly free"-unless he does it as a protection to the home production? And as the home producers will probably not ask the protection, he will be wholly without a ground of opposition.
Senator Douglas holds, we know, that a man may rightfully be wiser today than he was yesterday-that he may rightfully change when he finds himself wrong.
But, can we for that reason, run ahead, and infer that he will make any particular change, of which he, himself, has given no intimation? Can we safely base our action upon any such vague inference?
Now, as ever, I wish to not misrepresent Judge Doulgas' position, question his motives, or do aught that can be personally offensive to him.
Whenever, if ever, he and we can come together on principle so that our great cause may have assistance from his great ability, I hope to have interposed no adventitious obstacle.
But clearly, he is not now with us-he does not pretend to be-he does not promise to ever be.
Our cause, then, must be intrusted to, and conducted by its own undoubted friends-those whose hands are free, whose hearts are in the work-who do care for the result.
Two years ago the Republicans of the nation mustered over thirteen hundred thousand strong.
We did this under the single impulse of resistance to a common danger, with every external circumstance against us.
Of strange, discordant, and even, hostile elements, we gathered from the four winds, and formed and fought the battle through, under the constant hot fire of a disciplined, proud, and pampered enemy.
Did we brave all then to falter now? - now - when that same enemy is wavering, dissevered, and belligerent?
This result is not doubtful. We shall not fail-if we stand firm, we shall not fail.
Wise counsels may accelerate or mistakes delay it, but sooner or later the victory is sure to come.
Mr. President and fellow citizens of New York:
The facts with which I shall deal this evening are mainly old and familiar; nor is there anything new in the general use I shall make of them. If there shall be any novelty, it will be in the mode of presenting the facts, and the inferences and observations following that presentation.
In his speech last autumn, at Columbus, Ohio, as reported in "The New-York Times," Senator Douglas said:
"Our fathers, when they framed the Government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now."
I fully indorse this, and I adopt it as a text for this discourse. I so adopt it because it furnishes a precise and an agreed starting point for a discussion between Republicans and that wing of the Democracy headed by Senator Douglas. It simply leaves the inquiry: "What was the understanding those fathers had of the question mentioned?"
What is the frame of government under which we live?
The answer must be: "The Constitution of the United States." That Constitution consists of the original, framed in 1787, (and under which the present government first went into operation,) and twelve subsequently framed amendments, the first ten of which were framed in 1789.
Who were our fathers that framed the Constitution? I suppose the "thirty-nine" who signed the original instrument may be fairly called our fathers who framed that part of the present Government. It is almost exactly true to say they framed it, and it is altogether true to say they fairly represented the opinion and sentiment of the whole nation at that time. Their names, being familiar to nearly all, and accessible to quite all, need not now be repeated.
I take these "thirty-nine," for the present, as being "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live."
What is the question which, according to the text, those fathers understood "just as well, and even better than we do now?"
It is this: Does the proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, forbid our Federal Government to control as to slavery in our Federal Territories?
Upon this, Senator Douglas holds the affirmative, and Republicans the negative. This affirmation and denial form an issue; and this issue - this question - is precisely what the text declares our fathers understood "better than we."
Let us now inquire whether the "thirty-nine," or any of them, ever acted upon this question; and if they did, how they acted upon it - how they expressed that better understanding?
In 1784, three years before the Constitution - the United States then owning the Northwestern Territory, and no other, the Congress of the Confederation had before them the question of prohibiting slavery in that Territory; and four of the "thirty-nine" who afterward framed the Constitution, were in that Congress, and voted on that question. Of these, Roger Sherman, Thomas Mifflin, and Hugh Williamson voted for the prohibition, thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything else, properly forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory. The other of the four - James M'Henry - voted against the prohibition, showing that, for some cause, he thought it improper to vote for it.
In 1787, still before the Constitution, but while the Convention was in session framing it, and while the Northwestern Territory still was the only territory owned by the United States, the same question of prohibiting slavery in the territory again came before the Congress of the Confederation; and two more of the "thirty-nine" who afterward signed the Constitution, were in that Congress, and voted on the question. They were William Blount and William Few; and they both voted for the prohibition - thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything else, properly forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in Federal territory. This time the prohibition became a law, being part of what is now well known as the Ordinance of '87.
The question of federal control of slavery in the territories, seems not to have been directly before the Convention which framed the original Constitution; and hence it is not recorded that the "thirty-nine," or any of them, while engaged on that instrument, expressed any opinion on that precise question.
In 1789, by the first Congress which sat under the Constitution, an act was passed to enforce the Ordinance of '87, including the prohibition of slavery in the Northwestern Territory. The bill for this act was reported by one of the "thirty-nine," Thomas Fitzsimmons, then a member of the House of Representatives from Pennsylvania. It went through all its stages without a word of opposition, and finally passed both branches without yeas and nays, which is equivalent to a unanimous passage. In this Congress there were sixteen of the thirty-nine fathers who framed the original Constitution. They were John Langdon, Nicholas Gilman, Wm. S. Johnson, Roger Sherman, Robert Morris, Thos. Fitzsimmons, William Few, Abraham Baldwin, Rufus King, William Paterson, George Clymer, Richard Bassett, George Read, Pierce Butler, Daniel Carroll, James Madison.
This shows that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, properly forbade Congress to prohibit slavery in the federal territory; else both their fidelity to correct principle, and their oath to support the Constitution, would have constrained them to oppose the prohibition.
Again, George Washington, another of the "thirty-nine," was then President of the United States, and, as such approved and signed the bill; thus completing its validity as a law, and thus showing that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government, to control as to slavery in federal territory.
No great while after the adoption of the original Constitution, North Carolina ceded to the Federal Government the country now constituting the State of Tennessee; and a few years later Georgia ceded that which now constitutes the States of Mississippi and Alabama. In both deeds of cession it was made a condition by the ceding States that the Federal Government should not prohibit slavery in the ceded territory. Besides this, slavery was then actually in the ceded country. Under these circumstances, Congress, on taking charge of these countries, did not absolutely prohibit slavery within them. But they did interfere with it - take control of it - even there, to a certain extent. In 1798, Congress organized the Territory of Mississippi. In the act of organization, they prohibited the bringing of slaves into the Territory, from any place without the United States, by fine, and giving freedom to slaves so bought. This act passed both branches of Congress without yeas and nays. In that Congress were three of the "thirty-nine" who framed the original Constitution. They were John Langdon, George Read and Abraham Baldwin. They all, probably, voted for it. Certainly they would have placed their opposition to it upon record, if, in their understanding, any line dividing local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, properly forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory.
In 1803, the Federal Government purchased the Louisiana country. Our former territorial acquisitions came from certain of our own States; but this Louisiana country was acquired from a foreign nation. In 1804, Congress gave a territorial organization to that part of it which now constitutes the State of Louisiana. New Orleans, lying within that part, was an old and comparatively large city. There were other considerable towns and settlements, and slavery was extensively and thoroughly intermingled with the people. Congress did not, in the Territorial Act, prohibit slavery; but they did interfere with it - take control of it - in a more marked and extensive way than they did in the case of Mississippi. The substance of the provision therein made, in relation to slaves, was:
First. That no slave should be imported into the territory from foreign parts.
Second. That no slave should be carried into it who had been imported into the United States since the first day of May, 1798.
Third. That no slave should be carried into it, except by the owner, and for his own use as a settler; the penalty in all the cases being a fine upon the violator of the law, and freedom to the slave.
This act also was passed without yeas and nays. In the Congress which passed it, there were two of the "thirty-nine." They were Abraham Baldwin and Jonathan Dayton. As stated in the case of Mississippi, it is probable they both voted for it. They would not have allowed it to pass without recording their opposition to it, if, in their understanding, it violated either the line properly dividing local from federal authority, or any provision of the Constitution.
In 1819-20, came and passed the Missouri question. Many votes were taken, by yeas and nays, in both branches of Congress, upon the various phases of the general question. Two of the "thirty-nine" - Rufus King and Charles Pinckney - were members of that Congress. Mr. King steadily voted for slavery prohibition and against all compromises, while Mr. Pinckney as steadily voted against slavery prohibition and against all compromises. By this, Mr. King showed that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the Constitution, was violated by Congress prohibiting slavery in federal territory; while Mr. Pinckney, by his votes, showed that, in his understanding, there was some sufficient reason for opposing such prohibition in that case.
The cases I have mentioned are the only acts of the "thirty-nine," or of any of them, upon the direct issue, which I have been able to discover.
To enumerate the persons who thus acted, as being four in 1784, two in 1787, seventeen in 1789, three in 1798, two in 1804, and two in 1819-20 - there would be thirty of them. But this would be counting John Langdon, Roger Sherman, William Few, Rufus King, and George Read each twice, and Abraham Baldwin, three times. The true number of those of the "thirty-nine" whom I have shown to have acted upon the question, which, by the text, they understood better than we, is twenty-three, leaving sixteen not shown to have acted upon it in any way.
Here, then, we have twenty-three out of our thirty-nine fathers "who framed the government under which we live," who have, upon their official responsibility and their corporal oaths, acted upon the very question which the text affirms they "understood just as well, and even better than we do now;" and twenty-one of them - a clear majority of the whole "thirty-nine" - so acting upon it as to make them guilty of gross political impropriety and willful perjury, if, in their understanding, any proper division between local and federal authority, or anything in the Constitution they had made themselves, and sworn to support, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. Thus the twenty-one acted; and, as actions speak louder than words, so actions, under such responsibility, speak still louder.
Two of the twenty-three voted against Congressional prohibition of slavery in the federal territories, in the instances in which they acted upon the question. But for what reasons they so voted is not known. They may have done so because they thought a proper division of local from federal authority, or some provision or principle of the Constitution, stood in the way; or they may, without any such question, have voted against the prohibition, on what appeared to them to be sufficient grounds of expediency. No one who has sworn to support the Constitution can conscientiously vote for what he understands to be an unconstitutional measure, however expedient he may think it; but one may and ought to vote against a measure which he deems constitutional, if, at the same time, he deems it inexpedient. It, therefore, would be unsafe to set down even the two who voted against the prohibition, as having done so because, in their understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in federal territory.
The remaining sixteen of the "thirty-nine," so far as I have discovered, have left no record of their understanding upon the direct question of federal control of slavery in the federal territories. But there is much reason to believe that their understanding upon that question would not have appeared different from that of their twenty-three compeers, had it been manifested at all.
For the purpose of adhering rigidly to the text, I have purposely omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any person, however distinguished, other than the thirty-nine fathers who framed the original Constitution; and, for the same reason, I have also omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any of the "thirty-nine" even, on any other phase of the general question of slavery. If we should look into their acts and declarations on those other phases, as the foreign slave trade, and the morality and policy of slavery generally, it would appear to us that on the direct question of federal control of slavery in federal territories, the sixteen, if they had acted at all, would probably have acted just as the twenty-three did. Among that sixteen were several of the most noted anti-slavery men of those times - as Dr. Franklin, Alexander Hamilton and Gouverneur Morris - while there was not one now known to have been otherwise, unless it may be John Rutledge, of South Carolina.
The sum of the whole is, that of our thirty-nine fathers who framed the original Constitution, twenty-one - a clear majority of the whole - certainly understood that no proper division of local from federal authority, nor any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control slavery in the federal territories; while all the rest probably had the same understanding. Such, unquestionably, was the understanding of our fathers who framed the original Constitution; and the text affirms that they understood the question "better than we."
But, so far, I have been considering the understanding of the question manifested by the framers of the original Constitution. In and by the original instrument, a mode was provided for amending it; and, as I have already stated, the present frame of "the Government under which we live" consists of that original, and twelve amendatory articles framed and adopted since. Those who now insist that federal control of slavery in federal territories violates the Constitution, point us to the provisions which they suppose it thus violates; and, as I understand, that all fix upon provisions in these amendatory articles, and not in the original instrument. The Supreme Court, in the Dred Scott case, plant themselves upon the fifth amendment, which provides that no person shall be deprived of "life, liberty or property without due process of law;" while Senator Douglas and his peculiar adherents plant themselves upon the tenth amendment, providing that "the powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution" "are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people."
Now, it so happens that these amendments were framed by the first Congress which sat under the Constitution - the identical Congress which passed the act already mentioned, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the Northwestern Territory. Not only was it the same Congress, but they were the identical, same individual men who, at the same session, and at the same time within the session, had under consideration, and in progress toward maturity, these Constitutional amendments, and this act prohibiting slavery in all the territory the nation then owned. The Constitutional amendments were introduced before, and passed after the act enforcing the Ordinance of '87; so that, during the whole pendency of the act to enforce the Ordinance, the Constitutional amendments were also pending.
The seventy-six members of that Congress, including sixteen of the framers of the original Constitution, as before stated, were pre- eminently our fathers who framed that part of "the Government under which we live," which is now claimed as forbidding the Federal Government to control slavery in the federal territories.
Is it not a little presumptuous in any one at this day to affirm that the two things which that Congress deliberately framed, and carried to maturity at the same time, are absolutely inconsistent with each other? And does not such affirmation become impudently absurd when coupled with the other affirmation from the same mouth, that those who did the two things, alleged to be inconsistent, understood whether they really were inconsistent better than we - better than he who affirms that they are inconsistent?
It is surely safe to assume that the thirty-nine framers of the original Constitution, and the seventy-six members of the Congress which framed the amendments thereto, taken together, do certainly include those who may be fairly called "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live." And so assuming, I defy any man to show that any one of them ever, in his whole life, declared that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. I go a step further. I defy any one to show that any living man in the whole world ever did, prior to the beginning of the present century, (and I might almost say prior to the beginning of the last half of the present century,) declare that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. To those who now so declare, I give, not only "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live," but with them all other living men within the century in which it was framed, among whom to search, and they shall not be able to find the evidence of a single man agreeing with them.
Now, and here, let me guard a little against being misunderstood. I do not mean to say we are bound to follow implicitly in whatever our fathers did. To do so, would be to discard all the lights of current experience - to reject all progress - all improvement. What I do say is, that if we would supplant the opinions and policy of our fathers in any case, we should do so upon evidence so conclusive, and argument so clear, that even their great authority, fairly considered and weighed, cannot stand; and most surely not in a case whereof we ourselves declare they understood the question better than we.
If any man at this day sincerely believes that a proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so, and to enforce his position by all truthful evidence and fair argument which he can. But he has no right to mislead others, who have less access to history, and less leisure to study it, into the false belief that "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live" were of the same opinion - thus substituting falsehood and deception for truthful evidence and fair argument. If any man at this day sincerely believes "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live," used and applied principles, in other cases, which ought to have led them to understand that a proper division of local from federal authority or some part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so. But he should, at the same time, brave the responsibility of declaring that, in his opinion, he understands their principles better than they did themselves; and especially should he not shirk that responsibility by asserting that they "understood the question just as well, and even better, than we do now."
But enough! Let all who believe that "our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now," speak as they spoke, and act as they acted upon it. This is all Republicans ask - all Republicans desire - in relation to slavery. As those fathers marked it, so let it be again marked, as an evil not to be extended, but to be tolerated and protected only because of and so far as its actual presence among us makes that toleration and protection a necessity. Let all the guarantees those fathers gave it, be, not grudgingly, but fully and fairly, maintained. For this Republicans contend, and with this, so far as I know or believe, they will be content.
And now, if they would listen - as I suppose they will not - I would address a few words to the Southern people.
I would say to them: - You consider yourselves a reasonable and a just people; and I consider that in the general qualities of reason and justice you are not inferior to any other people. Still, when you speak of us Republicans, you do so only to denounce us a reptiles, or, at the best, as no better than outlaws. You will grant a hearing to pirates or murderers, but nothing like it to "Black Republicans." In all your contentions with one another, each of you deems an unconditional condemnation of "Black Republicanism" as the first thing to be attended to. Indeed, such condemnation of us seems to be an indispensable prerequisite - license, so to speak - among you to be admitted or permitted to speak at all. Now, can you, or not, be prevailed upon to pause and to consider whether this is quite just to us, or even to yourselves? Bring forward your charges and specifications, and then be patient long enough to hear us deny or justify.
You say we are sectional. We deny it. That makes an issue; and the burden of proof is upon you. You produce your proof; and what is it? Why, that our party has no existence in your section - gets no votes in your section. The fact is substantially true; but does it prove the issue? If it does, then in case we should, without change of principle, begin to get votes in your section, we should thereby cease to be sectional. You cannot escape this conclusion; and yet, are you willing to abide by it? If you are, you will probably soon find that we have ceased to be sectional, for we shall get votes in your section this very year. You will then begin to discover, as the truth plainly is, that your proof does not touch the issue. The fact that we get no votes in your section, is a fact of your making, and not of ours. And if there be fault in that fact, that fault is primarily yours, and remains until you show that we repel you by some wrong principle or practice. If we do repel you by any wrong principle or practice, the fault is ours; but this brings you to where you ought to have started - to a discussion of the right or wrong of our principle. If our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section for the benefit of ours, or for any other object, then our principle, and we with it, are sectional, and are justly opposed and denounced as such. Meet us, then, on the question of whether our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section; and so meet it as if it were possible that something may be said on our side. Do you accept the challenge? No! Then you really believe that the principle which "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live" thought so clearly right as to adopt it, and indorse it again and again, upon their official oaths, is in fact so clearly wrong as to demand your condemnation without a moment's consideration.
Some of you delight to flaunt in our faces the warning against sectional parties given by Washington in his Farewell Address. Less than eight years before Washington gave that warning, he had, as President of the United States, approved and signed an act of Congress, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the Northwestern Territory, which act embodied the policy of the Government upon that subject up to and at the very moment he penned that warning; and about one year after he penned it, he wrote LaFayette that he considered that prohibition a wise measure, expressing in the same connection his hope that we should at some time have a confederacy of free States.
Bearing this in mind, and seeing that sectionalism has since arisen upon this same subject, is that warning a weapon in your hands against us, or in our hands against you? Could Washington himself speak, would he cast the blame of that sectionalism upon us, who sustain his policy, or upon you who repudiate it? We respect that warning of Washington, and we commend it to you, together with his example pointing to the right application of it.
But you say you are conservative - eminently conservative - while we are revolutionary, destructive, or something of the sort. What is conservatism? Is it not adherence to the old and tried, against the new and untried? We stick to, contend for, the identical old policy on the point in controversy which was adopted by "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live;" while you with one accord reject, and scout, and spit upon that old policy, and insist upon substituting something new. True, you disagree among yourselves as to what that substitute shall be. You are divided on new propositions and plans, but you are unanimous in rejecting and denouncing the old policy of the fathers. Some of you are for reviving the foreign slave trade; some for a Congressional Slave-Code for the Territories; some for Congress forbidding the Territories to prohibit Slavery within their limits; some for maintaining Slavery in the Territories through the judiciary; some for the "gur-reat pur-rinciple" that "if one man would enslave another, no third man should object," fantastically called "Popular Sovereignty;" but never a man among you is in favor of federal prohibition of slavery in federal territories, according to the practice of "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live." Not one of all your various plans can show a precedent or an advocate in the century within which our Government originated. Consider, then, whether your claim of conservatism for yourselves, and your charge or destructiveness against us, are based on the most clear and stable foundations.
Again, you say we have made the slavery question more prominent than it formerly was. We deny it. We admit that it is more prominent, but we deny that we made it so. It was not we, but you, who discarded the old policy of the fathers. We resisted, and still resist, your innovation; and thence comes the greater prominence of the question. Would you have that question reduced to its former proportions? Go back to that old policy. What has been will be again, under the same conditions. If you would have the peace of the old times, readopt the precepts and policy of the old times.
You charge that we stir up insurrections among your slaves. We deny it; and what is your proof? Harper's Ferry! John Brown!! John Brown was no Republican; and you have failed to implicate a single Republican in his Harper's Ferry enterprise. If any member of our party is guilty in that matter, you know it or you do not know it. If you do know it, you are inexcusable for not designating the man and proving the fact. If you do not know it, you are inexcusable for asserting it, and especially for persisting in the assertion after you have tried and failed to make the proof. You need to be told that persisting in a charge which one does not know to be true, is simply malicious slander.
Some of you admit that no Republican designedly aided or encouraged the Harper's Ferry affair, but still insist that our doctrines and declarations necessarily lead to such results. We do not believe it. We know we hold to no doctrine, and make no declaration, which were not held to and made by "our fathers who framed the Government under which we live." You never dealt fairly by us in relation to this affair. When it occurred, some important State elections were near at hand, and you were in evident glee with the belief that, by charging the blame upon us, you could get an advantage of us in those elections. The elections came, and your expectations were not quite fulfilled. Every Republican man knew that, as to himself at least, your charge was a slander, and he was not much inclined by it to cast his vote in your favor. Republican doctrines and declarations are accompanied with a continual protest against any interference whatever with your slaves, or with you about your slaves. Surely, this does not encourage them to revolt. True, we do, in common with "our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live," declare our belief that slavery is wrong; but the slaves do not hear us declare even this. For anything we say or do, the slaves would scarcely know there is a Republican party. I believe they would not, in fact, generally know it but for your misrepresentations of us, in their hearing. In your political contests among yourselves, each faction charges the other with sympathy with Black Republicanism; and then, to give point to the charge, defines Black Republicanism to simply be insurrection, blood and thunder among the slaves.
Slave insurrections are no more common now than they were before the Republican party was organized. What induced the Southampton insurrection, twenty-eight years ago, in which, at least three times as many lives were lost as at Harper's Ferry? You can scarcely stretch your very elastic fancy to the conclusion that Southampton was "got up by Black Republicanism." In the present state of things in the United States, I do not think a general, or even a very extensive slave insurrection is possible. The indispensable concert of action cannot be attained. The slaves have no means of rapid communication; nor can incendiary freemen, black or white, supply it. The explosive materials are everywhere in parcels; but there neither are, nor can be supplied, the indispensable connecting trains.
Much is said by Southern people about the affection of slaves for their masters and mistresses; and a part of it, at least, is true. A plot for an uprising could scarcely be devised and communicated to twenty individuals before some one of them, to save the life of a favorite master or mistress, would divulge it. This is the rule; and the slave revolution in Hayti was not an exception to it, but a case occurring under peculiar circumstances. The gunpowder plot of British history, though not connected with slaves, was more in point. In that case, only about twenty were admitted to the secret; and yet one of them, in his anxiety to save a friend, betrayed the plot to that friend, and, by consequence, averted the calamity. Occasional poisonings from the kitchen, and open or stealthy assassinations in the field, and local revolts extending to a score or so, will continue to occur as the natural results of slavery; but no general insurrection of slaves, as I think, can happen in this country for a long time. Whoever much fears, or much hopes for such an event, will be alike disappointed.
In the language of Mr. Jefferson, uttered many years ago, "It is still in our power to direct the process of emancipation, and deportation, peaceably, and in such slow degrees, as that the evil will wear off insensibly; and their places be, pari passu, filled up by free white laborers. If, on the contrary, it is left to force itself on, human nature must shudder at the prospect held up."
Mr. Jefferson did not mean to say, nor do I, that the power of emancipation is in the Federal Government. He spoke of Virginia; and, as to the power of emancipation, I speak of the slaveholding States only. The Federal Government, however, as we insist, has the power of restraining the extension of the institution - the power to insure that a slave insurrection shall never occur on any American soil which is now free from slavery.
John Brown's effort was peculiar. It was not a slave insurrection. It was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt among slaves, in which the slaves refused to participate. In fact, it was so absurd that the slaves, with all their ignorance, saw plainly enough it could not succeed. That affair, in its philosophy, corresponds with the many attempts, related in history, at the assassination of kings and emperors. An enthusiast broods over the oppression of a people till he fancies himself commissioned by Heaven to liberate them. He ventures the attempt, which ends in little else than his own execution. Orsini's attempt on Louis Napoleon, and John Brown's attempt at Harper's Ferry were, in their philosophy, precisely the same. The eagerness to cast blame on old England in the one case, and on New England in the other, does not disprove the sameness of the two things.
And how much would it avail you, if you could, by the use of John Brown, Helper's Book, and the like, break up the Republican organization? Human action can be modified to some extent, but human nature cannot be changed. There is a judgment and a feeling against slavery in this nation, which cast at least a million and a half of votes. You cannot destroy that judgment and feeling - that sentiment - by breaking up the political organization which rallies around it. You can scarcely scatter and disperse an army which has been formed into order in the face of your heaviest fire; but if you could, how much would you gain by forcing the sentiment which created it out of the peaceful channel of the ballot-box, into some other channel? What would that other channel probably be? Would the number of John Browns be lessened or enlarged by the operation?
But you will break up the Union rather than submit to a denial of your Constitutional rights.
That has a somewhat reckless sound; but it would be palliated, if not fully justified, were we proposing, by the mere force of numbers, to deprive you of some right, plainly written down in the Constitution. But we are proposing no such thing.
When you make these declarations, you have a specific and well-understood allusion to an assumed Constitutional right of yours, to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. But no such right is specifically written in the Constitution. That instrument is literally silent about any such right. We, on the contrary, deny that such a right has any existence in the Constitution, even by implication.
Your purpose, then, plainly stated, is that you will destroy the Government, unless you be allowed to construe and enforce the Constitution as you please, on all points in dispute between you and us. You will rule or ruin in all events.
This, plainly stated, is your language. Perhaps you will say the Supreme Court has decided the disputed Constitutional question in your favor. Not quite so. But waiving the lawyer's distinction between dictum and decision, the Court have decided the question for you in a sort of way. The Court have substantially said, it is your Constitutional right to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. When I say the decision was made in a sort of way, I mean it was made in a divided Court, by a bare majority of the Judges, and they not quite agreeing with one another in the reasons for making it; that it is so made as that its avowed supporters disagree with one another about its meaning, and that it was mainly based upon a mistaken statement of fact - the statement in the opinion that "the right of property in a slave is distinctly and expressly affirmed in the Constitution."
An inspection of the Constitution will show that the right of property in a slave is not "distinctly and expressly affirmed" in it. Bear in mind, the Judges do not pledge their judicial opinion that such right is impliedly affirmed in the Constitution; but they pledge their veracity that it is "distinctly and expressly" affirmed there - "distinctly," that is, not mingled with anything else - "expressly," that is, in words meaning just that, without the aid of any inference, and susceptible of no other meaning.
If they had only pledged their judicial opinion that such right is affirmed in the instrument by implication, it would be open to others to show that neither the word "slave" nor "slavery" is to be found in the Constitution, nor the word "property" even, in any connection with language alluding to the things slave, or slavery; and that wherever in that instrument the slave is alluded to, he is called a "person;" - and wherever his master's legal right in relation to him is alluded to, it is spoken of as "service or labor which may be due," - as a debt payable in service or labor. Also, it would be open to show, by contemporaneous history, that this mode of alluding to slaves and slavery, instead of speaking of them, was employed on purpose to exclude from the Constitution the idea that there could be property in man.
To show all this, is easy and certain.
When this obvious mistake of the Judges shall be brought to their notice, is it not reasonable to expect that they will withdraw the mistaken statement, and reconsider the conclusion based upon it?
And then it is to be remembered that "our fathers, who framed the Government under which we live" - the men who made the Constitution - decided this same Constitutional question in our favor, long ago - decided it without division among themselves, when making the decision; without division among themselves about the meaning of it after it was made, and, so far as any evidence is left, without basing it upon any mistaken statement of facts.
Under all these circumstances, do you really feel yourselves justified to break up this Government unless such a court decision as yours is, shall be at once submitted to as a conclusive and final rule of political action? But you will not abide the election of a Republican president! In that supposed event, you say, you will destroy the Union; and then, you say, the great crime of having destroyed it will be upon us! That is cool. A highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, and mutters through his teeth, "Stand and deliver, or I shall kill you, and then you will be a murderer!"
To be sure, what the robber demanded of me - my money - was my own; and I had a clear right to keep it; but it was no more my own than my vote is my own; and the threat of death to me, to extort my money, and the threat of destruction to the Union, to extort my vote, can scarcely be distinguished in principle.
A few words now to Republicans. It is exceedingly desirable that all parts of this great Confederacy shall be at peace, and in harmony, one with another. Let us Republicans do our part to have it so. Even though much provoked, let us do nothing through passion and ill temper. Even though the southern people will not so much as listen to us, let us calmly consider their demands, and yield to them if, in our deliberate view of our duty, we possibly can. Judging by all they say and do, and by the subject and nature of their controversy with us, let us determine, if we can, what will satisfy them.
Will they be satisfied if the Territories be unconditionally surrendered to them? We know they will not. In all their present complaints against us, the Territories are scarcely mentioned. Invasions and insurrections are the rage now. Will it satisfy them, if, in the future, we have nothing to do with invasions and insurrections? We know it will not. We so know, because we know we never had anything to do with invasions and insurrections; and yet this total abstaining does not exempt us from the charge and the denunciation.
The question recurs, what will satisfy them? Simply this: We must not only let them alone, but we must somehow, convince them that we do let them alone. This, we know by experience, is no easy task. We have been so trying to convince them from the very beginning of our organization, but with no success. In all our platforms and speeches we have constantly protested our purpose to let them alone; but this has had no tendency to convince them. Alike unavailing to convince them, is the fact that they have never detected a man of us in any attempt to disturb them.
These natural, and apparently adequate means all failing, what will convince them? This, and this only: cease to call slavery wrong, and join them in calling it right. And this must be done thoroughly - done in acts as well as in words. Silence will not be tolerated - we must place ourselves avowedly with them. Senator Douglas' new sedition law must be enacted and enforced, suppressing all declarations that slavery is wrong, whether made in politics, in presses, in pulpits, or in private. We must arrest and return their fugitive slaves with greedy pleasure. We must pull down our Free State constitutions. The whole atmosphere must be disinfected from all taint of opposition to slavery, before they will cease to believe that all their troubles proceed from us.
I am quite aware they do not state their case precisely in this way. Most of them would probably say to us, "Let us alone, do nothing to us, and say what you please about slavery." But we do let them alone - have never disturbed them - so that, after all, it is what we say, which dissatisfies them. They will continue to accuse us of doing, until we cease saying.
I am also aware they have not, as yet, in terms, demanded the overthrow of our Free-State Constitutions. Yet those Constitutions declare the wrong of slavery, with more solemn emphasis, than do all other sayings against it; and when all these other sayings shall have been silenced, the overthrow of these Constitutions will be demanded, and nothing be left to resist the demand. It is nothing to the contrary, that they do not demand the whole of this just now. Demanding what they do, and for the reason they do, they can voluntarily stop nowhere short of this consummation. Holding, as they do, that slavery is morally right, and socially elevating, they cannot cease to demand a full national recognition of it, as a legal right, and a social blessing.
Nor can we justifiably withhold this, on any ground save our conviction that slavery is wrong. If slavery is right, all words, acts, laws, and constitutions against it, are themselves wrong, and should be silenced, and swept away. If it is right, we cannot justly object to its nationality - its universality; if it is wrong, they cannot justly insist upon its extension - its enlargement. All they ask, we could readily grant, if we thought slavery right; all we ask, they could as readily grant, if they thought it wrong. Their thinking it right, and our thinking it wrong, is the precise fact upon which depends the whole controversy. Thinking it right, as they do, they are not to blame for desiring its full recognition, as being right; but, thinking it wrong, as we do, can we yield to them? Can we cast our votes with their view, and against our own? In view of our moral, social, and political responsibilities, can we do this?
Wrong as we think slavery is, we can yet afford to let it alone where it is, because that much is due to the necessity arising from its actual presence in the nation; but can we, while our votes will prevent it, allow it to spread into the National Territories, and to overrun us here in these Free States? If our sense of duty forbids this, then let us stand by our duty, fearlessly and effectively. Let us be diverted by none of those sophistical contrivances wherewith we are so industriously plied and belabored - contrivances such as groping for some middle ground between the right and the wrong, vain as the search for a man who should be neither a living man nor a dead man - such as a policy of "don't care" on a question about which all true men do care - such as Union appeals beseeching true Union men to yield to Disunionists, reversing the divine rule, and calling, not the sinners, but the righteous to repentance - such as invocations to Washington, imploring men to unsay what Washington said, and undo what Washington did.
Neither let us be slandered from our duty by false accusations against us, nor frightened from it by menaces of destruction to the Government nor of dungeons to ourselves. LET US HAVE FAITH THAT RIGHT MAKES MIGHT, AND IN THAT FAITH, LET US, TO THE END, DARE TO DO OUR DUTY AS WE UNDERSTAND IT.
My friends - No one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe every thing. Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of that Divine Being, who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance, I cannot fail. Trusting in Him, who can go with me, and remain with you and be every where for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phrase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.
On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thought were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it - all sought to avert it. While the inaugeral [sic] address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war - seeking to dissole [sic] the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.
One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part o fit. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offences! For it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, he now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope-fervently do we pray-that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God will that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether."
With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan - to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.I would like to thank the Secretary General for inviting me to be part of this important United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women. This is truly a celebration, a celebration of the contributions women make in every aspect of life: in the home, on the job, in the community, as mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, learners, workers, citizens, and leaders.
It is also a coming together, much the way women come together every day in every country. We come together in fields and factories, in village markets and supermarkets, in living rooms and board rooms. Whether it is while playing with our children in the park, or washing clothes in a river, or taking a break at the office water cooler, we come together and talk about our aspirations and concern. And time and again, our talk turns to our children and our families. However different we may appear, there is far more that unites us than divides us. We share a common future, and we are here to find common ground so that we may help bring new dignity and respect to women and girls all over the world, and in so doing bring new strength and stability to families as well.
By gathering in Beijing, we are focusing world attention on issues that matter most in our lives -- the lives of women and their families: access to education, health care, jobs and credit, the chance to enjoy basic legal and human rights and to participate fully in the political life of our countries.
There are some who question the reason for this conference. Let them listen to the voices of women in their homes, neighborhoods, and workplaces. There are some who wonder whether the lives of women and girls matter to economic and political progress around the globe. Let them look at the women gathered here and at Huairou -- the homemakers and nurses, the teachers and lawyers, the policymakers and women who run their own businesses. It is conferences like this that compel governments and peoples everywhere to listen, look, and face the world’s most pressing problems. Wasn’t it after all -- after the women’s conference in Nairobi ten years ago that the world focused for the first time on the crisis of domestic violence?
Earlier today, I participated in a World Health Organization forum. In that forum, we talked about ways that government officials, NGOs, and individual citizens are working to address the health problems of women and girls. Tomorrow, I will attend a gathering of the United Nations Development Fund for Women. There, the discussion will focus on local -- and highly successful -- programs that give hard-working women access to credit so they can improve their own lives and the lives of their families.
What we are learning around the world is that if women are healthy and educated, their families will flourish. If women are free from violence, their families will flourish. If women have a chance to work and earn as full and equal partners in society, their families will flourish. And when families flourish, communities and nations do as well. That is why every woman, every man, every child, every family, and every nation on this planet does have a stake in the discussion that takes place here.
Over the past 25 years, I have worked persistently on issues relating to women, children, and families. Over the past two and a half years, I've had the opportunity to learn more about the challenges facing women in my own country and around the world.
I have met new mothers in Indonesia, who come together regularly in their village to discuss nutrition, family planning, and baby care. I have met working parents in Denmark who talk about the comfort they feel in knowing that their children can be cared for in safe, and nurturing after-school centers. I have met women in South Africa who helped lead the struggle to end apartheid and are now helping to build a new democracy. I have met with the leading women of my own hemisphere who are working every day to promote literacy and better health care for children in their countries. I have met women in India and Bangladesh who are taking out small loans to buy milk cows, or rickshaws, or thread in order to create a livelihood for themselves and their families. I have met the doctors and nurses in Belarus and Ukraine who are trying to keep children alive in the aftermath of Chernobyl.
The great challenge of this conference is to give voice to women everywhere whose experiences go unnoticed, whose words go unheard. Women comprise more than half the world’s population, 70% of the world’s poor, and two-thirds of those who are not taught to read and write. We are the primary caretakers for most of the world’s children and elderly. Yet much of the work we do is not valued -- not by economists, not by historians, not by popular culture, not by government leaders.
At this very moment, as we sit here, women around the world are giving birth, raising children, cooking meals, washing clothes, cleaning houses, planting crops, working on assembly lines, running companies, and running countries. Women also are dying from diseases that should have been prevented or treated. They are watching their children succumb to malnutrition caused by poverty and economic deprivation. They are being denied the right to go to school by their own fathers and brothers. They are being forced into prostitution, and they are being barred from the bank lending offices and banned from the ballot box.
Those of us who have the opportunity to be here have the responsibility to speak for those who could not. As an American, I want to speak for those women in my own country, women who are raising children on the minimum wage, women who can’t afford health care or child care, women whose lives are threatened by violence, including violence in their own homes.
I want to speak up for mothers who are fighting for good schools, safe neighborhoods, clean air, and clean airwaves; for older women, some of them widows, who find that, after raising their families, their skills and life experiences are not valued in the marketplace; for women who are working all night as nurses, hotel clerks, or fast food chefs so that they can be at home during the day with their children; and for women everywhere who simply don’t have time to do everything they are called upon to do each and every day.
Speaking to you today, I speak for them, just as each of us speaks for women around the world who are denied the chance to go to school, or see a doctor, or own property, or have a say about the direction of their lives, simply because they are women. The truth is that most women around the world work both inside and outside the home, usually by necessity.
We need to understand there is no one formula for how women should lead our lives. That is why we must respect the choices that each woman makes for herself and her family. Every woman deserves the chance to realize her own God-given potential. But we must recognize that women will never gain full dignity until their human rights are respected and protected.
Our goals for this conference, to strengthen families and societies by empowering women to take greater control over their own destinies, cannot be fully achieved unless all governments -- here and around the world -- accept their responsibility to protect and promote internationally recognized human rights. The -- The international community has long acknowledged and recently reaffirmed at Vienna that both women and men are entitled to a range of protections and personal freedoms, from the right of personal security to the right to determine freely the number and spacing of the children they bear. No one -- No one should be forced to remain silent for fear of religious or political persecution, arrest, abuse, or torture.
Tragically, women are most often the ones whose human rights are violated. Even now, in the late 20th century, the rape of women continues to be used as an instrument of armed conflict. Women and children make up a large majority of the world’s refugees. And when women are excluded from the political process, they become even more vulnerable to abuse. I believe that now, on the eve of a new millennium, it is time to break the silence. It is time for us to say here in Beijing, and for the world to hear, that it is no longer acceptable to discuss women’s rights as separate from human rights.
These abuses have continued because, for too long, the history of women has been a history of silence. Even today, there are those who are trying to silence our words. But the voices of this conference and of the women at Huairou must be heard loudly and clearly:
It is a violation of human rights when babies are denied food, or drowned, or suffocated, or their spines broken, simply because they are born girls.
It is a violation of human rights when women and girls are sold into the slavery of prostitution for human greed -- and the kinds of reasons that are used to justify this practice should no longer be tolerated.
It is a violation of human rights when women are doused with gasoline, set on fire, and burned to death because their marriage dowries are deemed too small.
It is a violation of human rights when individual women are raped in their own communities and when thousands of women are subjected to rape as a tactic or prize of war.
It is a violation of human rights when a leading cause of death worldwide among women ages 14 to 44 is the violence they are subjected to in their own homes by their own relatives.
It is a violation of human rights when young girls are brutalized by the painful and degrading practice of genital mutilation.
It is a violation of human rights when women are denied the right to plan their own families, and that includes being forced to have abortions or being sterilized against their will.
If there is one message that echoes forth from this conference, let it be that human rights are women’s rights and women’s rights are human rights once and for all.1 Let us not forget that among those rights are the right to speak freely -- and the right to be heard.
Women must enjoy the rights to participate fully in the social and political lives of their countries, if we want freedom and democracy to thrive and endure. It is indefensible that many women in nongovernmental organizations who wished to participate in this conference have not been able to attend -- or have been prohibited from fully taking part.
Let me be clear. Freedom means the right of people to assemble, organize, and debate openly. It means respecting the views of those who may disagree with the views of their governments. It means not taking citizens away from their loved ones and jailing them, mistreating them, or denying them their freedom or dignity because of the peaceful expression of their ideas and opinions.
In my country, we recently celebrated the 75th anniversary of Women’s Suffrage. It took 150 years after the signing of our Declaration of Independence for women to win the right to vote. It took 72 years of organized struggle, before that happened, on the part of many courageous women and men. It was one of America’s most divisive philosophical wars. But it was a bloodless war. Suffrage was achieved without a shot being fired.
But we have also been reminded, in V-J Day observances last weekend, of the good that comes when men and women join together to combat the forces of tyranny and to build a better world. We have seen peace prevail in most places for a half century. We have avoided another world war. But we have not solved older, deeply-rooted problems that continue to diminish the potential of half the world’s population.
Now it is the time to act on behalf of women everywhere. If we take bold steps to better the lives of women, we will be taking bold steps to better the lives of children and families too. Families rely on mothers and wives for emotional support and care. Families rely on women for labor in the home. And increasingly, everywhere, families rely on women for income needed to raise healthy children and care for other relatives.
As long as discrimination and inequities remain so commonplace everywhere in the world, as long as girls and women are valued less, fed less, fed last, overworked, underpaid, not schooled, subjected to violence in and outside their homes -- the potential of the human family to create a peaceful, prosperous world will not be realized.
Let -- Let this conference be our -- and the world’s -- call to action. Let us heed that call so we can create a world in which every woman is treated with respect and dignity, every boy and girl is loved and cared for equally, and every family has the hope of a strong and stable future. That is the work before you. That is the work before all of us who have a vision of the world we want to see -- for our children and our grandchildren.
The time is now. We must move beyond rhetoric. We must move beyond recognition of problems to working together, to have the comment efforts to build that common ground we hope to see.
God's blessing on you, your work, and all who will benefit from it.
Godspeed and thank you very much.I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."
But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. And so, we've come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. And those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. And there will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.
The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.
We cannot turn back.
There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. **We cannot be satisfied as long as the negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their self-hood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating: "For Whites Only."** We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until "justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream."1
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. And some of you have come from areas where your quest -- quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.
And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."2
This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with.
With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning:
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!3
THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
by William Shakespeare
Contents
ACT I
Scene I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle
Scene II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle
Scene III. A room in Polonius’s house
Scene IV. The platform
Scene V. A more remote part of the Castle
ACT II
Scene I. A room in Polonius’s house
Scene II. A room in the Castle
ACT III
Scene I. A room in the Castle
Scene II. A hall in the Castle
Scene III. A room in the Castle
Scene IV. Another room in the Castle
ACT IV
Scene I. A room in the Castle
Scene II. Another room in the Castle
Scene III. Another room in the Castle
Scene IV. A plain in Denmark
Scene V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle
Scene VI. Another room in the Castle
Scene VII. Another room in the Castle
ACT V
Scene I. A churchyard
Scene II. A hall in the Castle
Dramatis Personæ
HAMLET, Prince of Denmark
CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark, Hamlet’s uncle
The GHOST of the late king, Hamlet’s father
GERTRUDE, the Queen, Hamlet’s mother, now wife of Claudius
POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain
LAERTES, Son to Polonius
OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius
HORATIO, Friend to Hamlet
FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway
VOLTEMAND, Courtier
CORNELIUS, Courtier
ROSENCRANTZ, Courtier
GUILDENSTERN, Courtier
MARCELLUS, Officer
BARNARDO, Officer
FRANCISCO, a Soldier
OSRIC, Courtier
REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius
Players
A Gentleman, Courtier
A Priest
Two Clowns, Grave-diggers
A Captain
English Ambassadors.
Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and Attendants
SCENE. Elsinore.
ACT I
SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels.
BARNARDO.
Who’s there?
FRANCISCO.
Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
BARNARDO.
Long live the King!
FRANCISCO.
Barnardo?
BARNARDO.
He.
FRANCISCO.
You come most carefully upon your hour.
BARNARDO.
’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
FRANCISCO.
For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
BARNARDO.
Have you had quiet guard?
FRANCISCO.
Not a mouse stirring.
BARNARDO.
Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
FRANCISCO.
I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?
HORATIO.
Friends to this ground.
MARCELLUS.
And liegemen to the Dane.
FRANCISCO.
Give you good night.
MARCELLUS.
O, farewell, honest soldier, who hath reliev’d you?
FRANCISCO.
Barnardo has my place. Give you good-night.
[_Exit._]
MARCELLUS.
Holla, Barnardo!
BARNARDO.
Say, what, is Horatio there?
HORATIO.
A piece of him.
BARNARDO.
Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
MARCELLUS.
What, has this thing appear’d again tonight?
BARNARDO.
I have seen nothing.
MARCELLUS.
Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
That if again this apparition come
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
HORATIO.
Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.
BARNARDO.
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
HORATIO.
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
BARNARDO.
Last night of all,
When yond same star that’s westward from the pole,
Had made his course t’illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one—
MARCELLUS.
Peace, break thee off. Look where it comes again.
Enter Ghost.
BARNARDO.
In the same figure, like the King that’s dead.
MARCELLUS.
Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
BARNARDO.
Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
BARNARDO
It would be spoke to.
MARCELLUS.
Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
What art thou that usurp’st this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee speak.
MARCELLUS.
It is offended.
BARNARDO.
See, it stalks away.
HORATIO.
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
[_Exit Ghost._]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
BARNARDO.
How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale.
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on’t?
HORATIO.
Before my God, I might not this believe
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
MARCELLUS.
Is it not like the King?
HORATIO.
As thou art to thyself:
Such was the very armour he had on
When he th’ambitious Norway combated;
So frown’d he once, when in an angry parle
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
’Tis strange.
MARCELLUS.
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
HORATIO.
In what particular thought to work I know not;
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
MARCELLUS.
Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the subject of the land,
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon
And foreign mart for implements of war;
Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week.
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
Who is’t that can inform me?
HORATIO.
That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so. Our last King,
Whose image even but now appear’d to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
Thereto prick’d on by a most emulate pride,
Dar’d to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet,
For so this side of our known world esteem’d him,
Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal’d compact,
Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
Which he stood seiz’d of, to the conqueror;
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our King; which had return’d
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
Had he been vanquisher; as by the same cov’nant
And carriage of the article design’d,
His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved mettle, hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark’d up a list of lawless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach in’t; which is no other,
As it doth well appear unto our state,
But to recover of us by strong hand
And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
So by his father lost. And this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,
The source of this our watch, and the chief head
Of this post-haste and rummage in the land.
BARNARDO.
I think it be no other but e’en so:
Well may it sort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch so like the King
That was and is the question of these wars.
HORATIO.
A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,
Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands,
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.
And even the like precurse of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding still the fates
And prologue to the omen coming on,
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.
Re-enter Ghost.
But, soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!
I’ll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me.
If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy country’s fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O speak!
Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
Speak of it. Stay, and speak!
[_The cock crows._]
Stop it, Marcellus!
MARCELLUS.
Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
HORATIO.
Do, if it will not stand.
BARNARDO.
’Tis here!
HORATIO.
’Tis here!
[_Exit Ghost._]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone!
We do it wrong, being so majestical,
To offer it the show of violence,
For it is as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.
BARNARDO.
It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
HORATIO.
And then it started, like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
Th’extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine. And of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
MARCELLUS.
It faded on the crowing of the cock.
Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;
So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.
HORATIO.
So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
But look, the morn in russet mantle clad,
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.
Break we our watch up, and by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen tonight
Unto young Hamlet; for upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
MARCELLUS.
Let’s do’t, I pray, and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.
Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius,
Laertes, Voltemand,
Cornelius, Lords and Attendant.
KING.
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death
The memory be green, and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
Th’imperial jointress to this warlike state,
Have we, as ’twere with a defeated joy,
With one auspicious and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr’d
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail’d to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:
Thus much the business is: we have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew’s purpose, to suppress
His further gait herein; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions are all made
Out of his subject: and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the King, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow.
Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.
CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND.
In that, and all things, will we show our duty.
KING.
We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
[_Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius._]
And now, Laertes, what’s the news with you?
You told us of some suit. What is’t, Laertes?
You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
LAERTES.
Dread my lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
To show my duty in your coronation;
Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
KING.
Have you your father’s leave? What says Polonius?
POLONIUS.
He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
By laboursome petition; and at last
Upon his will I seal’d my hard consent.
I do beseech you give him leave to go.
KING.
Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son—
HAMLET.
[_Aside._] A little more than kin, and less than kind.
KING.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
HAMLET.
Not so, my lord, I am too much i’ the sun.
QUEEN.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
Thou know’st ’tis common, all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
HAMLET.
Ay, madam, it is common.
QUEEN.
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?
HAMLET.
Seems, madam! Nay, it is; I know not seems.
’Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc’d breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
KING.
’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
To give these mourning duties to your father;
But you must know, your father lost a father,
That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
In filial obligation, for some term
To do obsequious sorrow. But to persevere
In obstinate condolement is a course
Of impious stubbornness. ’Tis unmanly grief,
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
An understanding simple and unschool’d;
For what we know must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we in our peevish opposition
Take it to heart? Fie, ’tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd, whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse till he that died today,
‘This must be so.’ We pray you throw to earth
This unprevailing woe, and think of us
As of a father; for let the world take note
You are the most immediate to our throne,
And with no less nobility of love
Than that which dearest father bears his son
Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire:
And we beseech you bend you to remain
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
QUEEN.
Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
I pray thee stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.
HAMLET.
I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
KING.
Why, ’tis a loving and a fair reply.
Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
This gentle and unforc’d accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof,
No jocund health that Denmark drinks today
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
And the King’s rouse the heaven shall bruit again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
[_Exeunt all but Hamlet._]
HAMLET.
O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ’gainst self-slaughter. O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on’t! Oh fie! ’tis an unweeded garden
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was to this
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month—
Let me not think on’t—Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father’s body
Like Niobe, all tears.—Why she, even she—
O God! A beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourn’d longer,—married with mine uncle,
My father’s brother; but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules. Within a month,
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo.
HORATIO.
Hail to your lordship!
HAMLET.
I am glad to see you well:
Horatio, or I do forget myself.
HORATIO.
The same, my lord,
And your poor servant ever.
HAMLET.
Sir, my good friend;
I’ll change that name with you:
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?—
Marcellus?
MARCELLUS.
My good lord.
HAMLET.
I am very glad to see you.—Good even, sir.—
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
HORATIO.
A truant disposition, good my lord.
HAMLET.
I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do my ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?
We’ll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
HORATIO.
My lord, I came to see your father’s funeral.
HAMLET.
I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student.
I think it was to see my mother’s wedding.
HORATIO.
Indeed, my lord, it follow’d hard upon.
HAMLET.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak’d meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio.
My father,—methinks I see my father.
HORATIO.
Where, my lord?
HAMLET.
In my mind’s eye, Horatio.
HORATIO.
I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
HAMLET.
He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
HORATIO.
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
HAMLET.
Saw? Who?
HORATIO.
My lord, the King your father.
HAMLET.
The King my father!
HORATIO.
Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear, till I may deliver
Upon the witness of these gentlemen
This marvel to you.
HAMLET.
For God’s love let me hear.
HORATIO.
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter’d. A figure like your father,
Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie,
Appears before them, and with solemn march
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk’d
By their oppress’d and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon’s length; whilst they, distill’d
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
Where, as they had deliver’d, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.
HAMLET.
But where was this?
MARCELLUS.
My lord, upon the platform where we watch.
HAMLET.
Did you not speak to it?
HORATIO.
My lord, I did;
But answer made it none: yet once methought
It lifted up it head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak.
But even then the morning cock crew loud,
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish’d from our sight.
HAMLET.
’Tis very strange.
HORATIO.
As I do live, my honour’d lord, ’tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty
To let you know of it.
HAMLET.
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch tonight?
MARCELLUS and BARNARDO.
We do, my lord.
HAMLET.
Arm’d, say you?
Both.
Arm’d, my lord.
HAMLET.
From top to toe?
BOTH.
My lord, from head to foot.
HAMLET.
Then saw you not his face?
HORATIO.
O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.
HAMLET.
What, look’d he frowningly?
HORATIO.
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
HAMLET.
Pale, or red?
HORATIO.
Nay, very pale.
HAMLET.
And fix’d his eyes upon you?
HORATIO.
Most constantly.
HAMLET.
I would I had been there.
HORATIO.
It would have much amaz’d you.
HAMLET.
Very like, very like. Stay’d it long?
HORATIO.
While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
MARCELLUS and BARNARDO.
Longer, longer.
HORATIO.
Not when I saw’t.
HAMLET.
His beard was grizzled, no?
HORATIO.
It was, as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silver’d.
HAMLET.
I will watch tonight;
Perchance ’twill walk again.
HORATIO.
I warrant you it will.
HAMLET.
If it assume my noble father’s person,
I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal’d this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap tonight,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well.
Upon the platform ’twixt eleven and twelve,
I’ll visit you.
ALL.
Our duty to your honour.
HAMLET.
Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.
[_Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo._]
My father’s spirit in arms! All is not well;
I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!
Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.
[_Exit._]
SCENE III. A room in Polonius’s house.
Enter Laertes and Ophelia.
LAERTES.
My necessaries are embark’d. Farewell.
And, sister, as the winds give benefit
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.
OPHELIA.
Do you doubt that?
LAERTES.
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood;
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting;
The perfume and suppliance of a minute;
No more.
OPHELIA.
No more but so?
LAERTES.
Think it no more.
For nature crescent does not grow alone
In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
The virtue of his will; but you must fear,
His greatness weigh’d, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalu’d persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The sanctity and health of this whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib’d
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
As he in his particular act and place
May give his saying deed; which is no further
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain
If with too credent ear you list his songs,
Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster’d importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough
If she unmask her beauty to the moon.
Virtue itself ’scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring
Too oft before their buttons be disclos’d,
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then, best safety lies in fear.
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
OPHELIA.
I shall th’effect of this good lesson keep
As watchman to my heart. But good my brother,
Do not as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst like a puff’d and reckless libertine
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede.
LAERTES.
O, fear me not.
I stay too long. But here my father comes.
Enter Polonius.
A double blessing is a double grace;
Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
POLONIUS.
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame.
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for. There, my blessing with you.
[_Laying his hand on Laertes’s head._]
And these few precepts in thy memory
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion’d thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear’t that th’opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgement.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine own self be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee.
LAERTES.
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
POLONIUS.
The time invites you; go, your servants tend.
LAERTES.
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
What I have said to you.
OPHELIA.
’Tis in my memory lock’d,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
LAERTES.
Farewell.
[_Exit._]
POLONIUS.
What is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
OPHELIA.
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
POLONIUS.
Marry, well bethought:
’Tis told me he hath very oft of late
Given private time to you; and you yourself
Have of your audience been most free and bounteous.
If it be so,—as so ’tis put on me,
And that in way of caution,—I must tell you
You do not understand yourself so clearly
As it behoves my daughter and your honour.
What is between you? Give me up the truth.
OPHELIA.
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.
POLONIUS.
Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
OPHELIA.
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
POLONIUS.
Marry, I’ll teach you; think yourself a baby;
That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay,
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;
Or,—not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Running it thus,—you’ll tender me a fool.
OPHELIA.
My lord, he hath importun’d me with love
In honourable fashion.
POLONIUS.
Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.
OPHELIA.
And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
POLONIUS.
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,
Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
You must not take for fire. From this time
Be something scanter of your maiden presence;
Set your entreatments at a higher rate
Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
Believe so much in him that he is young;
And with a larger tether may he walk
Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
Not of that dye which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
The better to beguile. This is for all:
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
Have you so slander any moment leisure
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
Look to’t, I charge you; come your ways.
OPHELIA.
I shall obey, my lord.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE IV. The platform.
Enter Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus.
HAMLET.
The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
HORATIO.
It is a nipping and an eager air.
HAMLET.
What hour now?
HORATIO.
I think it lacks of twelve.
MARCELLUS.
No, it is struck.
HORATIO.
Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
[_A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off within._]
What does this mean, my lord?
HAMLET.
The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse,
Keeps wassail, and the swaggering upspring reels;
And as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.
HORATIO.
Is it a custom?
HAMLET.
Ay marry is’t;
And to my mind, though I am native here,
And to the manner born, it is a custom
More honour’d in the breach than the observance.
This heavy-headed revel east and west
Makes us traduc’d and tax’d of other nations:
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition; and indeed it takes
From our achievements, though perform’d at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute.
So oft it chances in particular men
That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin,
By their o’ergrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o’erleavens
The form of plausive manners;—that these men,
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
Being Nature’s livery or Fortune’s star,—
His virtues else,—be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo,
Shall in the general censure take corruption
From that particular fault. The dram of evil
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
To his own scandal.
HORATIO.
Look, my lord, it comes!
Enter Ghost.
HAMLET.
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn’d,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com’st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee. I’ll call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me!
Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
Why thy canoniz’d bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn’d,
Hath op’d his ponderous and marble jaws
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,
Revisit’st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
So horridly to shake our disposition
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
[_Ghost beckons Hamlet._]
HORATIO.
It beckons you to go away with it,
As if it some impartment did desire
To you alone.
MARCELLUS.
Look with what courteous action
It waves you to a more removed ground.
But do not go with it.
HORATIO.
No, by no means.
HAMLET.
It will not speak; then will I follow it.
HORATIO.
Do not, my lord.
HAMLET.
Why, what should be the fear?
I do not set my life at a pin’s fee;
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
Being a thing immortal as itself?
It waves me forth again. I’ll follow it.
HORATIO.
What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
That beetles o’er his base into the sea,
And there assume some other horrible form
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? Think of it.
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
And hears it roar beneath.
HAMLET.
It waves me still.
Go on, I’ll follow thee.
MARCELLUS.
You shall not go, my lord.
HAMLET.
Hold off your hands.
HORATIO.
Be rul’d; you shall not go.
HAMLET.
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.
[_Ghost beckons._]
Still am I call’d. Unhand me, gentlemen.
[_Breaking free from them._]
By heaven, I’ll make a ghost of him that lets me.
I say, away!—Go on, I’ll follow thee.
[_Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet._]
HORATIO.
He waxes desperate with imagination.
MARCELLUS.
Let’s follow; ’tis not fit thus to obey him.
HORATIO.
Have after. To what issue will this come?
MARCELLUS.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
HORATIO.
Heaven will direct it.
MARCELLUS.
Nay, let’s follow him.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE V. A more remote part of the Castle.
Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
HAMLET.
Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I’ll go no further.
GHOST.
Mark me.
HAMLET.
I will.
GHOST.
My hour is almost come,
When I to sulph’rous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.
HAMLET.
Alas, poor ghost!
GHOST.
Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
HAMLET.
Speak, I am bound to hear.
GHOST.
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
HAMLET.
What?
GHOST.
I am thy father’s spirit,
Doom’d for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin’d to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg’d away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
If thou didst ever thy dear father love—
HAMLET.
O God!
GHOST.
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
HAMLET.
Murder!
GHOST.
Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
HAMLET.
Haste me to know’t, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love
May sweep to my revenge.
GHOST.
I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.
’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abus’d; but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown.
HAMLET.
O my prophetic soul!
Mine uncle!
GHOST.
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,—
O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!—won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.
O Hamlet, what a falling off was there,
From me, whose love was of that dignity
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine. But virtue, as it never will be mov’d,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
So lust, though to a radiant angel link’d,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed
And prey on garbage.
But soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
My custom always of the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole
With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,
And in the porches of my ears did pour
The leperous distilment, whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man
That swift as quicksilver it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And with a sudden vigour it doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine;
And a most instant tetter bark’d about,
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust
All my smooth body.
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother’s hand,
Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatch’d:
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhous’led, disappointed, unanel’d;
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
O horrible! O horrible! most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But howsoever thou pursu’st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me.
[_Exit._]
HAMLET.
O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?
And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, my heart;
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe. Remember thee?
Yea, from the table of my memory
I’ll wipe away all trivial fond records,
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
That youth and observation copied there;
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix’d with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!
O most pernicious woman!
O villain, villain, smiling damned villain!
My tables. Meet it is I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain!
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.
[_Writing._]
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
It is ‘Adieu, adieu, remember me.’
I have sworn’t.
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
[_Within._] My lord, my lord.
MARCELLUS.
[_Within._] Lord Hamlet.
HORATIO.
[_Within._] Heaven secure him.
HAMLET.
So be it!
MARCELLUS.
[_Within._] Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
HAMLET.
Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
MARCELLUS.
How is’t, my noble lord?
HORATIO.
What news, my lord?
HAMLET.
O, wonderful!
HORATIO.
Good my lord, tell it.
HAMLET.
No, you’ll reveal it.
HORATIO.
Not I, my lord, by heaven.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord.
HAMLET.
How say you then, would heart of man once think it?—
But you’ll be secret?
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
Ay, by heaven, my lord.
HAMLET.
There’s ne’er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he’s an arrant knave.
HORATIO.
There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.
HAMLET.
Why, right; you are i’ the right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
You, as your business and desire shall point you,—
For every man hath business and desire,
Such as it is;—and for my own poor part,
Look you, I’ll go pray.
HORATIO.
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
HAMLET.
I’m sorry they offend you, heartily;
Yes faith, heartily.
HORATIO.
There’s no offence, my lord.
HAMLET.
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you.
For your desire to know what is between us,
O’ermaster’t as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
HORATIO.
What is’t, my lord? We will.
HAMLET.
Never make known what you have seen tonight.
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
My lord, we will not.
HAMLET.
Nay, but swear’t.
HORATIO.
In faith, my lord, not I.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
HAMLET.
Upon my sword.
MARCELLUS.
We have sworn, my lord, already.
HAMLET.
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
GHOST.
[_Cries under the stage._] Swear.
HAMLET.
Ha, ha boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there, truepenny?
Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage.
Consent to swear.
HORATIO.
Propose the oath, my lord.
HAMLET.
Never to speak of this that you have seen.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET.
_Hic et ubique?_ Then we’ll shift our ground.
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET.
Well said, old mole! Canst work i’ th’earth so fast?
A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.
HORATIO.
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange.
HAMLET.
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come,
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe’er I bear myself,—
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on—
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber’d thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As ‘Well, we know’, or ‘We could and if we would’,
Or ‘If we list to speak’; or ‘There be and if they might’,
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me:—this not to do.
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear.
GHOST.
[_Beneath._] Swear.
HAMLET.
Rest, rest, perturbed spirit. So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you;
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do t’express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint. O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come, let’s go together.
[_Exeunt._]
let it not be said i am contending for the establishment of political and social equality between the whites and blacks. i have already said the contrary. i am not now combating the argument of necessity, arising from the fact that the blacks are already amongst us; but i am combating what is set up as moral argument for allowing them to be taken where they have never yet been---arguing against the extension of a bad thing, which where it already exists, we must of necessity, manage as we best can.
auxiliary to all this, and working hand in hand with it, the nebraska doctrine, or what is left of it, is to educate and mould public opinion, at least northern public opinion, to not care whether slavery is voted down or voted up.
this shows that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the constitution, properly forbade congress to prohibit slavery in the federal territory; else both their fidelity to correct principle, and their oath to support the constitution, would have constrained them to oppose the prohibition.
"the citizens of each state shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several states."
these points all needed adjustment; and they were all held up, perhaps wisely to make them help to adjust one another. the union, now, as in 1820, was thought to be in danger; and devotion to the union rightfully inclined men to yield somewhat, in points where nothing else could have so inclined them. a compromise was finally effected. the south got their new fugitive-slave law; and the north got california, (the far best part of our acquisition from mexico,) as a free state. the south got a provision that new mexico and utah, when admitted as states, may come in with or without slavery as they may then choose; and the north got the slave-trade abolished in the district of columbia. the north got the western boundary of texas, thence further back eastward than the south desired; but, in turn, they gave texas ten millions of dollars, with which to pay her old debts. this is the compromise of 1850.
but it is said we cannot restore it; that though we elect every member of the lower house, the senate is still against us. it is quite true, that of the senators who passed the nebraska bill, a majority of the whole senate will retain their seats in spite of the elections of this and the next year. but if at these elections, their several constituencies shall clearly express their will against nebraska, will these senators disregard their will? will they neither obey, nor make room for those who will?
why was the court decision held up? why, even a senator's individual opinion withheld, till after the presidential election? plainly enough now, the speaking out then would have damaged the "perfectly free" argument upon which the election was to be carried.
before long the bill is so modified as to make two territories instead of one; calling the southern one kansas.
much is said by southern people about the affection of slaves for their masters and mistresses; and a part of it, at least, is true. a plot for an uprising could scarcely be devised and communicated to twenty individuals before some one of them, to save the life of a favorite master or mistress, would divulge it. this is the rule; and the slave revolution in hayti was not an exception to it, but a case occurring under peculiar circumstances. the gunpowder plot of british history, though not connected with slaves, was more in point. in that case, only about twenty were admitted to the secret; and yet one of them, in his anxiety to save a friend, betrayed the plot to that friend, and, by consequence, averted the calamity. occasional poisonings from the kitchen, and open or stealthy assassinations in the field, and local revolts extending to a score or so, will continue to occur as the natural results of slavery; but no general insurrection of slaves, as i think, can happen in this country for a long time. whoever much fears, or much hopes for such an event, will be alike disappointed.
these natural, and apparently adequate means all failing, what will convince them? this, and this only: cease to call slavery wrong, and join them in calling it right. and this must be done thoroughly - done in acts as well as in words. silence will not be tolerated - we must place ourselves avowedly with them. senator douglas' new sedition law must be enacted and enforced, suppressing all declarations that slavery is wrong, whether made in politics, in presses, in pulpits, or in private. we must arrest and return their fugitive slaves with greedy pleasure. we must pull down our free state constitutions. the whole atmosphere must be disinfected from all taint of opposition to slavery, before they will cease to believe that all their troubles proceed from us.
this point is made in order that individual men may fill up the territories with slaves, without danger of losing them as property, and thus enhance the chances of permanency to the institution through all the future.
four days later, commenced the struggle, which ended in repealing that congressional prohibition.
already a few in the south, claim the constitutional right to take to and hold slaves in the free states---demand the revival of the slave trade; and demand a treaty with great britain by which fugitive slaves may be reclaimed from canada. as yet they are but few on either side. it is a grave question for the lovers of the union, whether the final destruction of the missouri compromise, and with it the spirit of all compromise will or will not embolden and embitter each of these, and fatally increase the numbers of both.
why mention a state? they were legislating for territories, and not for or about states. certainly the people of a state are and ought to be subject to the constitution of the united states; but why is mention of this lugged into this merely territorial law? why are the people of a territory and the people of a state therein lumped together, and their relation to the constitution therein treated as being precisely the same?
the reputed author of the nebraska bill finds an early occasion to make a speech at this capitol indorsing the dred scott decision, and vehemently denouncing all opposition to it.
but to return to history. in 1803 we purchased what was then called louisiana, of france. it included the now states of louisiana, arkansas, missouri, and iowa; also the territory of minnesota, and the present bone of contention, kansas and nebraska. slavery already existed among the french at new orleans; and, to some extent, at st. louis. in 1812 louisiana came into the union as a slave state, without controversy. in 1818 or '19, missouri showed signs of a wish to come in with slavery. this was resisted by northern members of congress; and thus began the first great slavery agitation in the nation. this controversy lasted several months, and became very angry and exciting; the house of representatives voting steadily for the prohibition of slavery in missouri, and the senate voting as steadily against it. threats of breaking up the union were freely made; and the ablest public men of the day became seriously alarmed. at length a compromise was made, in which, like all compromises, both sides yielded something. it was a law passed on the 6th day of march, 1820, providing that missouri might come into the union with slavery, but that in all the remaining part of the territory purchased of france, which lies north of 36 degrees and 30 minutes north latitude, slavery should never be permitted. this provision of law, is the missouri compromise. in excluding slavery north of the line, the same language is employed as in the ordinance of '87. it directly applied to iowa, minnesota, and to the present bone of contention, kansas and nebraska. whether there should or should not, be slavery south of that line, nothing was said in the law; but arkansas constituted the principal remaining part, south of the line; and it has since been admitted as a slave state without serious controversy. more recently, iowa, north of the line, came in as a free state without controversy. still later, minnesota, north of the line, had a territorial organization without controversy. texas principally south of the line, and west of arkansas; though originally within the purchase from france, had, in 1819, been traded off to spain, in our treaty for the acquisition of florida. it had thus become a part of mexico. mexico revolutionized and became independent of spain. american citizens began settling rapidly, with their slaves in the southern part of texas. soon they revolutionized against mexico, and established an independent government of their own, adopting a constitution, with slavery, strongly resembling the constitutions of our slave states. by still another rapid move, texas, claiming a boundary much further west, than when we parted with her in 1819, was brought back to the united states, and admitted into the union as a slave state. there then was little or no settlement in the northern part of texas, a considerable portion of which lay north of the missouri line; and in the resolutions admitting her into the union, the missouri restriction was expressly extended westward across her territory. this was in 1845, only nine years ago.
some of you admit that no republican designedly aided or encouraged the harper's ferry affair, but still insist that our doctrines and declarations necessarily lead to such results. we do not believe it. we know we hold to no doctrine, and make no declaration, which were not held to and made by "our fathers who framed the government under which we live." you never dealt fairly by us in relation to this affair. when it occurred, some important state elections were near at hand, and you were in evident glee with the belief that, by charging the blame upon us, you could get an advantage of us in those elections. the elections came, and your expectations were not quite fulfilled. every republican man knew that, as to himself at least, your charge was a slander, and he was not much inclined by it to cast his vote in your favor. republican doctrines and declarations are accompanied with a continual protest against any interference whatever with your slaves, or with you about your slaves. surely, this does not encourage them to revolt. true, we do, in common with "our fathers, who framed the government under which we live," declare our belief that slavery is wrong; but the slaves do not hear us declare even this. for anything we say or do, the slaves would scarcely know there is a republican party. i believe they would not, in fact, generally know it but for your misrepresentations of us, in their hearing. in your political contests among yourselves, each faction charges the other with sympathy with black republicanism; and then, to give point to the charge, defines black republicanism to simply be insurrection, blood and thunder among the slaves.
upon this, senator douglas holds the affirmative, and republicans the negative. this affirmation and denial form an issue; and this issue - this question - is precisely what the text declares our fathers understood "better than we."
you charge that we stir up insurrections among your slaves. we deny it; and what is your proof? harper's ferry! john brown!! john brown was no republican; and you have failed to implicate a single republican in his harper's ferry enterprise. if any member of our party is guilty in that matter, you know it or you do not know it. if you do know it, you are inexcusable for not designating the man and proving the fact. if you do not know it, you are inexcusable for asserting it, and especially for persisting in the assertion after you have tried and failed to make the proof. you need to be told that persisting in a charge which one does not know to be true, is simply malicious slander.
the world is very different now. for man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. and yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe--the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state but from the hand of god.
under all these circumstances, do you really feel yourselves justified to break up this government unless such a court decision as yours is, shall be at once submitted to as a conclusive and final rule of political action? but you will not abide the election of a republican president! in that supposed event, you say, you will destroy the union; and then, you say, the great crime of having destroyed it will be upon us! that is cool. a highwayman holds a pistol to my ear, and mutters through his teeth, "stand and deliver, or i shall kill you, and then you will be a murderer!"
we dare not tempt them with weakness. for only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
here, then, we have twenty-three out of our thirty-nine fathers "who framed the government under which we live," who have, upon their official responsibility and their corporal oaths, acted upon the very question which the text affirms they "understood just as well, and even better than we do now;" and twenty-one of them - a clear majority of the whole "thirty-nine" - so acting upon it as to make them guilty of gross political impropriety and willful perjury, if, in their understanding, any proper division between local and federal authority, or anything in the constitution they had made themselves, and sworn to support, forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. thus the twenty-one acted; and, as actions speak louder than words, so actions, under such responsibility, speak still louder.
the facts with which i shall deal this evening are mainly old and familiar; nor is there anything new in the general use i shall make of them. if there shall be any novelty, it will be in the mode of presenting the facts, and the inferences and observations following that presentation.
if any man at this day sincerely believes that a proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the constitution, forbids the federal government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so, and to enforce his position by all truthful evidence and fair argument which he can. but he has no right to mislead others, who have less access to history, and less leisure to study it, into the false belief that "our fathers who framed the government under which we live" were of the same opinion - thus substituting falsehood and deception for truthful evidence and fair argument. if any man at this day sincerely believes "our fathers who framed the government under which we live," used and applied principles, in other cases, which ought to have led them to understand that a proper division of local from federal authority or some part of the constitution, forbids the federal government to control as to slavery in the federal territories, he is right to say so. but he should, at the same time, brave the responsibility of declaring that, in his opinion, he understands their principles better than they did themselves; and especially should he not shirk that responsibility by asserting that they "understood the question just as well, and even better, than we do now."
the principles of the nebraska bill, he says, expelled slavery from illinois? the principle of that bill first planted it here---that is, it first came, because there was no law to prevent it---first came before we owned the country; and finding it here, and having the ordinance of '87 to prevent its increasing, our people struggled along, and finally got rid of it as best they could.
when we voted for the wilmot proviso, we were voting to keep slavery out of the whole missouri [mexican?] acquisition; and little did we think we were thereby voting, to let it into nebraska, laying several hundred miles distant. when we voted against extending the missouri line, little did we think we were voting to destroy the old line, then of near thirty years standing. to argue that we thus repudiated the missouri compromise is no less absurd than it would be to argue that because we have, so far, forborne to acquire cuba, we have thereby, in principle, repudiated our former acquisitions, and determined to throw them out of the union! no less absurd than it would be to say that because i may have refused to build an addition to my house, i thereby have decided to destroy the existing house! and if i catch you setting fire to my house, you will turn upon me and say i instructed you to do it! the most conclusive argument, however, that, while voting for the wilmot proviso, and while voting against the extension of the missouri line, we never thought of disturbing the original missouri compromise, is found in the facts, that there was then, and still is, an unorganized tract of fine country, nearly as large as the state of missouri, lying immediately west of arkansas, and south of the missouri compromise line; and that we never attempted to prohibit slavery as to it. i wish particular attention to this. it adjoins the original missouri compromise line, by its northern boundary; and consequently is part of the country, into which, by implication, slavery was permitted to go, by that compromise. there it has lain open ever since, and there it still lies. and yet no effort has been made at any time to wrest it from the south. in all our struggles to prohibit slavery within our mexican acquisitions, we never so much as lifted a finger to prohibit it, as to this tract. is not this entirely conclusive that at all times, we have held the missouri compromise as a sacred thing; even when against ourselves, as well as when for us?
in regard to what i had said, the advantage the slave states have over the free, in the matter of representation, the judge replied that we, in the free states, count five free negroes as five white people, while in the slave states, they count five slaves as three whites only; and that the advantage, at last, was on the side of the free states.
i had argued, that the application of the principle of self-government, as contended for, would require the revival of the african slave trade---that no argument could be made in favor of a man's right to take slaves to nebraska, which could not be equally well made in favor of his right to bring them from the coast of africa. the judge replied, that the constitution requires the suppression of the foreign slave trade; but does not require the prohibition of slavery in the territories. that is a mistake, in point of fact. the constitution does not require the action of congress in either case; and it does authorize it in both. and so, there is still no difference between the cases.
what is the question which, according to the text, those fathers understood "just as well, and even better than we do now?"
"we hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed."
now this is mere quibbling all the way through. if the ordinance of '87 did not keep slavery out of the north west territory, how happens it that the north west shore of the ohio river is entirely free from it; while the south east shore, less than a mile distant, along nearly the whole length of the river, is entirely covered with it?
and, as this subject is no other, than part and parcel of the larger general question of domestic-slavery, i wish to make and to keep the distinction between the existing institution, and the extension of it, so broad, and so clear, that no honest man can misunderstand me, and no dishonest one, successfully misrepresent me.
now all this is manifestly unfair; yet i do not mention it to complain of it, in so far as it is already settled. it is in the constitution; and i do not, for that cause, or any other cause, propose to destroy, or alter, or disregard the constitution. i stand to it, fairly, fully, and firmly.
first, that no negro slave, imported as such from africa, and no descendant of such slave can ever be a citizen of any state, in the sense of that term as used in the constitution of the united states.
i believe this government cannot endure, permanently half slave and half free.
"our fathers, when they framed the government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now."
preceding the presidential election of 1852, each of the great political parties, democrats and whigs, met in convention, and adopted resolutions endorsing the compromise of '50; as a "finality," a final settlement, so far as these parties could make it so, of all slavery agitation. previous to this, in 1851, the illinois legislature had indorsed it.
but, so far, congress only, had acted; and an indorsement by the people, real or apparent, was indispensable, to save the point already gained, and give chance for more.
that argument was incorporated into the nebraska bill itself, in the language which follows: "it being the true intent and meaning of this act not to legislate slavery into any territory or state, nor to exclude it therefrom; but to leave the people thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic institutions in their own way, subject only to the constitution of the united states."
but now new light breaks upon us. now congress declares this ought never to have been; and the like of it, must never be again. the sacred right of self government is grossly violated by it! we even find some men, who drew their first breath, and every other breath of their lives, under this very restriction, now live in dread of absolute suffocation, if they should be restricted in the "sacred right" of taking slaves to nebraska. that perfect liberty they sigh for---the liberty of making slaves of other people---jefferson never thought of; their own father never thought of; they never thought of themselves, a year ago. how fortunate for them, they did not sooner become sensible of their great misery! oh, how difficult it is to treat with respect, such assaults upon all we have ever really held sacred.
now it is perceived from the reading of this, that there is nothing express upon the subject; but that the authority is sought to be implied merely, for the general provision of "all rightful subjects of legislation." in reply to this, i insist, as a legal rule of construction, as well as the plain popular view of the matter, that the express provision for utah and new mexico coming in with slavery if they choose, when they shall form constitutions, is an exclusion of all implied authority on the same subject---that congress, having the subject distinctly in their minds, when they made the express provision, they therein expressed their whole meaning on that subject.
next he says, congressional intervention never prevented slavery, any where---that it did not prevent it in the north west territory, now [nor?] in illinois---that in fact, illinois came into the union as a slave state---that the principle of the nebraska bill expelled it from illinois, from several old states, from every where.
i have quoted so much at this time merely to show that according to our ancient faith, the just powers of governments are derived from the consent of the governed. now the relation of masters and slaves is, pro tanto, a total violation of this principle. the master not only governs the slave without his consent; but he governs him by a set of rules altogether different from those which he prescribes for himself. allow all the governed an equal voice in the government, and that, and that only is self government.
there are those who denounce us openly to their own friends, and yet whisper us softly, that senator douglas is the aptest instrument there is, with which to effect that object. they do not tell us, nor has he told us, that he wishes any such object to be effected. they wish us to infer all, from the facts, that he now has a little quarrel with the present head of the dynasty; and that he has regularly voted with us, on a single point, upon which, he and we, have never differed.
john brown's effort was peculiar. it was not a slave insurrection. it was an attempt by white men to get up a revolt among slaves, in which the slaves refused to participate. in fact, it was so absurd that the slaves, with all their ignorance, saw plainly enough it could not succeed. that affair, in its philosophy, corresponds with the many attempts, related in history, at the assassination of kings and emperors. an enthusiast broods over the oppression of a people till he fancies himself commissioned by heaven to liberate them. he ventures the attempt, which ends in little else than his own execution. orsini's attempt on louis napoleon, and john brown's attempt at harper's ferry were, in their philosophy, precisely the same. the eagerness to cast blame on old england in the one case, and on new england in the other, does not disprove the sameness of the two things.
this, plainly stated, is your language. perhaps you will say the supreme court has decided the disputed constitutional question in your favor. not quite so. but waiving the lawyer's distinction between dictum and decision, the court have decided the question for you in a sort of way. the court have substantially said, it is your constitutional right to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. when i say the decision was made in a sort of way, i mean it was made in a divided court, by a bare majority of the judges, and they not quite agreeing with one another in the reasons for making it; that it is so made as that its avowed supporters disagree with one another about its meaning, and that it was mainly based upon a mistaken statement of fact - the statement in the opinion that "the right of property in a slave is distinctly and expressly affirmed in the constitution."
in what cases the power of the states is so restrained by the u.s. constitution is left an open question, precisely as the same question, as to the restraint on the power of the territories was left open in the nebraska act. put that and that together, and we have another nice little nitch, which we may, ere long, see filled with another supreme court decision, declaring that the constitution of the united states does not permit a state to exclude slavery from its limits.
the new year of 1854 found slavery excluded from more than half the state by state constitutions, and from most of the national territory by congressional prohibition.
four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
of strange, discordant, and even, hostile elements, we gathered from the four winds, and formed and fought the battle through, under the constant hot fire of a disciplined, proud, and pampered enemy.
have we no tendency to the latter condition?
one eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the union, but localized in the southern part o fit. these slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. all knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. to strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. both read the same bible, and pray to the same god; and each invokes his aid against the other. it may seem strange that any men should dare ask a just god's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. the prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. the almighty has his own purposes. "woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" if we shall suppose that american slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of god, must needs come, but which, having continued through his appointed time, he now wills to remove, and that he gives to both north and south, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a living god always ascribe to him? fondly do we hope-fervently do we pray-that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. yet, if god will that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the lord, are true and righteous altogether."
during this long period of time nebraska had remained, substantially an uninhabited country, but now emigration to, and settlement within it began to take place. it is about one third as large as the present united states, and its importance so long overlooked, begins to come into view. the restriction of slavery by the missouri compromise directly applies to it; in fact, was first made, and has since been maintained, expressly for it. in 1853, a bill to give it a territorial government passed the house of representatives, and, in the hands of judge douglas, failed of passing the senate only for want of time. this bill contained no repeal of the missouri compromise. indeed, when it was assailed because it did not contain such repeal, judge douglas defended it in its existing form. on january 4th, 1854, judge douglas introduces a new bill to give nebraska territorial government. he accompanies this bill with a report, in which last, he expressly recommends that the missouri compromise shall neither be affirmed nor repealed.
i now come to consider whether the repeal, with its avowed principle, is intrinsically right. i insist that it is not. take the particular case. a controversy had arisen between the advocates and opponents of slavery, in relation to its establishment within the country we had purchased of france. the southern, and then best part of the purchase, was already in as a slave state. the controversy was settled by also letting missouri in as a slave state; but with the agreement that within all the remaining part of the purchase, north of a certain line, there should never be slavery. as to what was to be done with the remaining part south of the line, nothing was said; but perhaps the fair implication was, that it should come in with slavery if it should so choose. the southern part, except a portion heretofore mentioned, afterwards did come in with slavery, as the state of arkansas. all these many years since 1820, the northern part had remained a wilderness. at length settlements began in it also. in due course, iowa, came in as a free state, and minnesota was given a territorial government, without removing the slavery restriction. finally the sole remaining part, north of the line, kansas and nebraska, was to be organized; and it is proposed, and carried, to blot out the old dividing line of thirty-four years standing, and to open the whole of that country to the introduction of slavery. now, this, to my mind, is manifestly unjust. after an angry and dangerous controversy, the parties made friends by dividing the bone of contention. the one party first appropriates her own share, beyond all power to be disturbed in the possession of it; and then seizes the share of the other party. it is as if two starving men had divided their only loaf; the one had hastily swallowed his half, and then grabbed the other half just as he was putting it to his mouth!
fellow countrymen---americans south, as well as north, shall we make no effort to arrest this? already the liberal party throughout the world, express the apprehension "that the one retrograde institution in america, is undermining the principles of progress, and fatally violating the noblest political system the world ever saw." this is not the taunt of enemies, but the warning of friends. is it quite safe to disregard it---to despise it? is there no danger to liberty itself, in discarding the earliest practice, and first precept of our ancient faith? in our greedy chase to make profit of the negro, let us beware, lest we "cancel and tear to pieces" even the white man's charter of freedom.
another point on the washington act. if it was intended to be modelled after the utah and new mexico acts, as judge douglas, insists, why was it not inserted in it, as in them, that washington was to come in with or without slavery as she may choose at the adoption of her constitution? it has no such provision in it; and i defy the ingenuity of man to give a reason for the omission, other than that it was not intended to follow the utah and new mexico laws in regard to the question of slavery.
i would say to them: - you consider yourselves a reasonable and a just people; and i consider that in the general qualities of reason and justice you are not inferior to any other people. still, when you speak of us republicans, you do so only to denounce us a reptiles, or, at the best, as no better than outlaws. you will grant a hearing to pirates or murderers, but nothing like it to "black republicans." in all your contentions with one another, each of you deems an unconditional condemnation of "black republicanism" as the first thing to be attended to. indeed, such condemnation of us seems to be an indispensable prerequisite - license, so to speak - among you to be admitted or permitted to speak at all. now, can you, or not, be prevailed upon to pause and to consider whether this is quite just to us, or even to yourselves? bring forward your charges and specifications, and then be patient long enough to hear us deny or justify.
if that ordinance did not keep it out of illinois, what was it that made the difference between illinois and missouri? they lie side by side, the mississippi river only dividing them; while their early settlements were within the same latitude. between 1810 and 1820 the number of slaves in missouri increased 7,211; while in illinois, in the same ten years, they decreased 51. this appears by the census returns. during nearly all of that ten years, both were territories---not states. during this time, the ordinance forbid slavery to go into illinois; and nothing forbid it to go into missouri. it did go into missouri, and did not go into illinois. that is the fact. can any one doubt as to the reason of it?
the question is asked us, "if slaves will go in, notwithstanding the general principle of law liberates them, why would they not equally go in against positive statute law?---go in, even if the missouri restriction were maintained?" i answer, because it takes a much bolder man to venture in, with his property, in the latter case, than in the former---because the positive congressional enactment is known to, and respected by all, or nearly all; whereas the negative principle that no law is free law, is not much known except among lawyers. we have some experience of this practical difference. in spite of the ordinance of '87, a few negroes were brought into illinois, and held in a state of quasi slavery; not enough, however to carry a vote of the people in favor of the institution when they came to form a constitution. but in the adjoining missouri country, where there was no ordinance of '87---was no restriction---they were carried ten times, nay a hundred times, as fast, and actually made a slave state. this is fact---naked fact.
and now, if they would listen - as i suppose they will not - i would address a few words to the southern people.
all this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days, nor in the life of this administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. but let us begin.
let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of isaiah--to "undo the heavy burdens . . . (and) let the oppressed go free."
i will attempt an answer to each of them in its turn. first, then, if that country was in need of a territorial organization, could it not have had it as well without as with the repeal? iowa and minnesota, to both of which the missouri restriction applied, had, without its repeal, each in succession, territorial organizations. and even, the year before, a bill for nebraska itself, was within an ace of passing, without the repealing clause; and this in the hands of the same men who are now the champions of repeal. why no necessity then for the repeal? but still later, when this very bill was first brought in, it contained no repeal. but, say they, because the public had demanded, or rather commanded the repeal, the repeal was to accompany the organization, whenever that should occur.
but, can we for that reason, run ahead, and infer that he will make any particular change, of which he, himself, has given no intimation? can we safely base our action upon any such vague inference?
this point is made, not to be pressed immediately; but, if acquiesced in for a while, and apparently indorsed by the people at an election, then ro sustain the logical conclusion that what dred scott's master might lawfully do with dred scott, in the free state of illinois, every other master may lawfully do with any other one or one thousand slaves, in illinois, or in any other free state.
these things look like the cautious patting and petting of a spirited horse, preparatory to mounting him, when it is dreaded that he may give the rider a fall.
judge douglas frequently, with bitter irony and sarcasm, paraphrases our argument by saying "the white people of nebraska are good enough to govern themselves, but they are not good enough to govern a few miserable negroes!!"
but, he says, illinois came into the union as a slave state. silence, perhaps, would be the best answer to this flat contradiction of the known history of the country. what are the facts upon which this bold assertion is based? when we first acquired the country, as far back as 1787, there were some slaves within it, held by the french inhabitants at kaskaskia. the territorial legislation, admitted a few negroes, from the slave states, as indentured servants. one year after the adoption of the first state constitution the whole number of them was---what do you think? just 117---while the aggregate free population was 55,094---about 470 to one. upon this state of facts, the people framed their constitution prohibiting the further introduction of slavery, with a sort of guaranty to the owners of the few indentured servants, giving freedom to their children to be born thereafter, and making no mention whatever, of any supposed slave for life. out of this small matter, the judge manufactures his argument that illinois came into the union as a slave state. let the facts be the answer to the argument.
will they be satisfied if the territories be unconditionally surrendered to them? we know they will not. in all their present complaints against us, the territories are scarcely mentioned. invasions and insurrections are the rage now. will it satisfy them, if, in the future, we have nothing to do with invasions and insurrections? we know it will not. we so know, because we know we never had anything to do with invasions and insurrections; and yet this total abstaining does not exempt us from the charge and the denunciation.
for myself, i can answer this question most easily. i meant not to ask a repeal, or modification of the fugitive slave law. i meant not to ask for the abolition of slavery in the district of columbia. i meant not to resist the admission of utah and new mexico, even should they ask to come in as slave states. i meant nothing about additional territories, because, as i understood, we then had no territory whose character as to slavery was not already settled. as to nebraska, i regarded its character as being fixed, by the missouri compromise, for thirty years---as unalterably fixed as that of my own home in illinois. as to new acquisitions i said "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." when we make new acquaintances, [acquisitions?] we will, as heretofore, try to manage them some how. that is my answer. that is what i meant and said; and i appeal to the people to say, each for himself, whether that was not also the universal meaning of the free states.
the question of federal control of slavery in the territories, seems not to have been directly before the convention which framed the original constitution; and hence it is not recorded that the "thirty-nine," or any of them, while engaged on that instrument, expressed any opinion on that precise question.
does douglas believe an effort to revive that trade is approaching? he has not said so. does he really think so? but if it is, how can he resist it? for years he has labored to prove it a sacred right of white men to take negro slaves into the new territories. can he possibly show that it is less a sacred right to buy them where they can be brought cheapest? and, unquestionably they can be bought cheaper in africa than in virginia.
then, in a few days, came the decision.
the structure, too, of the nebraska bill is very peculiar. the people are to decide the question of slavery for themselves; but when they are to decide; or how they are to decide; or whether, when the question is once decided, it is to remain so, or is it to be subject to an indefinite succession of new trials, the law does not say, is it to be decided by the first dozen settlers who arrive there? or is it to await the arrival of a hundred? is it to be decided by a vote of the people? or a vote of the legislature? or, indeed by a vote of any sort? to these questions, the law gives no answer. there is a mystery about this; for when a member proposed to give the legislature express authority to exclude slavery, it was hooted down by the friends of the bill. this fact is worth remembering. some yankees, in the east, are sending emigrants to nebraska, to exclude slavery from it; and, so far as i can judge, they expect the question to be decided by voting, in some way or other. but the missourians are awake too. they are within a stone's throw of the contested ground. they hold meetings, and pass resolutions, in which not the slightest allusion to voting is made. they resolve that slavery already exists in the territory; that more shall go there; that they, remaining in missouri will protect it; and that abolitionists shall be hung, or driven away. through all this, bowie-knives and six-shooters are seen plainly enough; but never a glimpse of the ballot-box. and, really, what is to be the result of this? each party within, having numerous and determined backers without, is it not probable that the contest will come to blows, and bloodshed? could there be a more apt invention to bring about collision and violence, on the slavery question, than this nebraska project is? i do not charge, or believe, that such was intended by congress; but if they had literally formed a ring, and placed champions within it to fight out the controversy, the fight could be no more likely to come off, than it is. and if this fight should begin, is it likely to take a very peaceful, union-saving turn? will not the first drop of blood so shed, be the real knell of the union?
i take these "thirty-nine," for the present, as being "our fathers who framed the government under which we live."
thus, with the author of the declaration of independence, the policy of prohibiting slavery in new territory originated. thus, away back of the constitution, in the pure fresh, free breath of the revolution, the state of virginia, and the national congress put that policy in practice. thus through sixty odd of the best years of the republic did that policy steadily work to its great and beneficent end. and thus, in those five states, and five millions of free, enterprising people, we have before us the rich fruits of this policy.
to that world assembly of sovereign states, the united nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support--to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective--to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak--and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths and encourage the arts and commerce.
but you say you are conservative - eminently conservative - while we are revolutionary, destructive, or something of the sort. what is conservatism? is it not adherence to the old and tried, against the new and untried? we stick to, contend for, the identical old policy on the point in controversy which was adopted by "our fathers who framed the government under which we live;" while you with one accord reject, and scout, and spit upon that old policy, and insist upon substituting something new. true, you disagree among yourselves as to what that substitute shall be. you are divided on new propositions and plans, but you are unanimous in rejecting and denouncing the old policy of the fathers. some of you are for reviving the foreign slave trade; some for a congressional slave-code for the territories; some for congress forbidding the territories to prohibit slavery within their limits; some for maintaining slavery in the territories through the judiciary; some for the "gur-reat pur-rinciple" that "if one man would enslave another, no third man should object," fantastically called "popular sovereignty;" but never a man among you is in favor of federal prohibition of slavery in federal territories, according to the practice of "our fathers who framed the government under which we live." not one of all your various plans can show a precedent or an advocate in the century within which our government originated. consider, then, whether your claim of conservatism for yourselves, and your charge or destructiveness against us, are based on the most clear and stable foundations.
our cause, then, must be intrusted to, and conducted by its own undoubted friends-those whose hands are free, whose hearts are in the work-who do care for the result.
bearing this in mind, and seeing that sectionalism has since arisen upon this same subject, is that warning a weapon in your hands against us, or in our hands against you? could washington himself speak, would he cast the blame of that sectionalism upon us, who sustain his policy, or upon you who repudiate it? we respect that warning of washington, and we commend it to you, together with his example pointing to the right application of it.
but, going back a little, in point of time, our war with mexico broke out in 1846. when congress was about adjourning that session, president polk asked them to place two millions of dollars under his control, to be used by him in the recess, if found practicable and expedient, in negociating a treaty of peace with mexico, and acquiring some part of her territory. a bill was duly got up, for the purpose, and was progressing swimmingly, in the house of representatives, when a member by the name of david wilmot, a democrat from pennsylvania, moved as an amendment "provided that in any territory thus acquired, there shall never be slavery."
a word now as to the judge's desperate assumption that the compromises of '50 had no connection with one another; that illinois came into the union as a slave state, and some other similar ones. this is no other than a bold denial of the history of the country. if we do not know that the compromises of '50 were dependent on each other; if we do not know that illinois came into the union as a free state---we do not know any thing. if we do not know these things, we do not know that we ever had a revolutionary war, or such a chief as washington. to deny these things is to deny our national axioms, or dogmas, at least; and it puts an end to all argument. if a man will stand up and assert, and repeat, and re-assert, that two and two do not make four, i know nothing in the power of argument that can stop him. i think i can answer the judge so long as he sticks to the premises; but when he flies from them, i can not work an argument into the consistency of a maternal gag, and actually close his mouth with it. in such a case i can only commend him to the seventy thousand answers just in from pennsylvania, ohio and indiana.
this much we pledge--and more.
and now, why will you ask us to deny the humanity of the slave? and estimate him only as the equal of the hog? why ask us to do what you will not do yourselves? why ask us to do for nothing, what two hundred million of dollars could not induce you to do?
mr. president and fellow citizens of new york:
in the language of mr. jefferson, uttered many years ago, "it is still in our power to direct the process of emancipation, and deportation, peaceably, and in such slow degrees, as that the evil will wear off insensibly; and their places be, pari passu, filled up by free white laborers. if, on the contrary, it is left to force itself on, human nature must shudder at the prospect held up."
neither let us be slandered from our duty by false accusations against us, nor frightened from it by menaces of destruction to the government nor of dungeons to ourselves. let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith, let us, to the end, dare to do our duty as we understand it.
now i deny that the public ever demanded any such thing---ever repudiated the missouri compromise---ever commanded its repeal. i deny it, and call for the proof. it is not contended, i believe, that any such command has ever been given in express terms. it is only said that it was done in principle. the support of the wilmot proviso, is the first fact mentioned, to prove that the missouri restriction was repudiated in principle, and the second is, the refusal to extend the missouri line over the country acquired from mexico. these are near enough alike to be treated together. the one was to exclude the chances of slavery from the whole new acquisition by the lump; and the other was to reject a division of it, by which one half was to be given up to those chances. now whether this was a repudiation of the missouri line, in principle, depends upon whether the missouri law contained any principle requiring the line to be extended over the country acquired from mexico. i contend it did not. i insist that it contained no general principle, but that it was, in every sense, specific. that its terms limit it to the country purchased from france, is undenied and undeniable. it could have no principle beyond the intention of those who made it. they did not intend to extend the line to country which they did not own. if they intended to extend it, in the event of acquiring additional territory, why did they not say so? it was just as easy to say, that "in all the country west of the mississippi, which we now own, or may hereafter acquire there shall never be slavery," as to say, what they did say; and they would have said it if they had meant it. an intention to extend the law is not only not mentioned in the law, but is not mentioned in any contemporaneous history. both the law itself, and the history of the times are a blank as to any principle of extension; and by neither the known rules for construing statutes and contracts, nor by common sense, can any such principle be inferred.
thus originated the missouri compromise; and thus has it been respected down to 1845. and even four years later, in 1849, our distinguished senator, in a public address, held the following language in relation to it:
welcome or unwelcome, such decision is probably coming, and will soon be upon us, unless the power of the present political dynasty shall be met and overthrown.
second. that no slave should be carried into it who had been imported into the united states since the first day of may, 1798.
finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
the outgoing president, in his last annual message, as impressively as possible echoed back upon the people the weight and authority of the indorsement.
in 1784, three years before the constitution - the united states then owning the northwestern territory, and no other, the congress of the confederation had before them the question of prohibiting slavery in that territory; and four of the "thirty-nine" who afterward framed the constitution, were in that congress, and voted on that question. of these, roger sherman, thomas mifflin, and hugh williamson voted for the prohibition, thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything else, properly forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in federal territory. the other of the four - james m'henry - voted against the prohibition, showing that, for some cause, he thought it improper to vote for it.
but this argument strikes me as not a little remarkable in another particular---in its strong resemblance to the old argument for the "divine right of kings." by the latter, the king is to do just as he pleases with his white subjects, being responsible to god alone. by the former the white man is to do just as he pleases with his black slaves, being responsible to god alone. the two things are precisely alike; and it is but natural that they should find similar arguments to sustain them.
while the nebraska bill was passing through congress, a law case, involving the question of a negro's freedom, by reason of his owner having voluntarily taken him first into a free state and then a territory covered by the congressional prohibition, and held him as a slave for a long time in each, was passing through the u.s. circuit court for the district of missouri; and both nebraska bill and law suit were brought to a decision in the same month of may, 1854. the negro's name was "dred scott," which name now designates the decision finally made in the case.
your purpose, then, plainly stated, is that you will destroy the government, unless you be allowed to construe and enforce the constitution as you please, on all points in dispute between you and us. you will rule or ruin in all events.
now the trumpet summons us again--not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need--not as a call to battle, though embattled we are-- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"--a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease and war itself.
in 1800 they prohibited american citizens from trading in slaves between foreign countries---as, for instance, from africa to brazil.
well i doubt not that the people of nebraska are, and will continue to be as good as the average of people elsewhere. i do not say the contrary. what i do say is, that no man is good enough to govern another man, without that other's consent. i say this is the leading principle---the sheet anchor of american republicanism. our declaration of independence says:
what is the frame of government under which we live?
senator douglas sometimes says the missouri line itself was, in principle, only an extension of the line of the ordinance of '87---that is to say, an extension of the ohio river. i think this is weak enough on its face. i will remark, however that, as a glance at the map will show, the missouri line is a long way farther south than page the ohio; and that if our senator, in proposing his extension, had stuck to the principle of jogging southward, perhaps it might not have been voted down so readily.
let me here drop the main argument, to notice what i consider rather an inferior matter. it is argued that slavery will not go to kansas and nebraska, in any event. this is a palliation---a lullaby. i have some hope that it will not; but let us not be too confident. as to climate, a glance at the map shows that there are five slave states---delaware, maryland, virginia, kentucky, and missouri---and also the district of columbia, all north of the missouri compromise line. the census returns of 1850 show that, within these, there are 867,276 slaves---being more than one-fourth of all the slaves in the nation.
the sum of the whole is, that of our thirty-nine fathers who framed the original constitution, twenty-one - a clear majority of the whole - certainly understood that no proper division of local from federal authority, nor any part of the constitution, forbade the federal government to control slavery in the federal territories; while all the rest probably had the same understanding. such, unquestionably, was the understanding of our fathers who framed the original constitution; and the text affirms that they understood the question "better than we."
the judge rather insinuated that i had found it convenient to forget the washington territorial law passed in 1853. this was a division of oregon, organizing the northern part, as the territory of washington. he asserted that, by this act, the ordinance of '87 theretofore existing in oregon, was repealed; that nearly all the members of congress voted for it, beginning in the h.r., with charles allen of massachusetts, and ending with richard yates, of illinois; and that he could not understand how those who now oppose the nebraska bill, so voted then, unless it was because it was then too soon after both the great political parties had ratified the compromises of 1850, and the ratification therefore too fresh, to be then repudiated.
that has a somewhat reckless sound; but it would be palliated, if not fully justified, were we proposing, by the mere force of numbers, to deprive you of some right, plainly written down in the constitution. but we are proposing no such thing.
it is not climate, then, that will keep slavery out of these territories. is there any thing in the peculiar nature of the country? missouri adjoins these territories, by her entire western boundary, and slavery is already within every one of her western counties. i have even heard it said that there are more slaves, in proportion to whites, in the north western county of missouri, than within any county of the state. slavery pressed entirely up to the old western boundary of the state, and when, rather recently, a part of that boundary, at the north-west was moved out a little farther west, slavery followed on quite up to the new line. now, when the restriction is removed, what is to prevent it from going still further? climate will not. no peculiarity of the country will---nothing in nature will. will the disposition of the people prevent it? those nearest the scene, are all in favor of the extension. the yankees, who are opposed to it may be more numerous; but in military phrase, the battle-field is too far from their base of operations.
but if it is a sacred right for the people of nebraska to take and hold slaves there, it is equally their sacred right to buy them where they can buy them cheapest; and that undoubtedly will be on the coast of africa; provided you will consent to not hang them for going there to buy them. you must remove this restriction too, from the sacred right of self-government. i am aware you say that taking slaves from the states of nebraska, does not make slaves of freemen; but the african slave-trader can say just as much. he does not catch free negroes and bring them here. he finds them already slaves in the hands of their black captors, and he honestly buys them at the rate of about a red cotton handkerchief a head. this is very cheap, and it is a great abridgement of the sacred right of self-government to hang men for engaging in this profitable trade!
the missouri compromise ought to be restored. for the sake of the union, it ought to be restored. we ought to elect a house of representatives which will vote its restoration. if by any means, we omit to do this, what follows? slavery may or may not be established in nebraska. but whether it be or not, we shall have repudiated---discarded from the councils of the nation---the spirit of compromise; for who after this will ever trust in a national compromise? the spirit of mutual concession---that spirit which first gave us the constitution, and which has thrice saved the union---we shall have strangled and cast from us forever. and what shall we have in lieu of it? the south flushed with triumph and tempted to excesses; the north, betrayed, as they believe, brooding on wrong and burning for revenge. one side will provoke; the other resent. the one will taunt, the other defy; one agrees [aggresses?], the other retaliates. already a few in the north, defy all constitutional restraints, resist the execution of the fugitive slave law, and even menace the institution of slavery in the states where it exists.
but restore the compromise, and what then? we thereby restore the national faith, the national confidence, the national feeling of brotherhood. we thereby reinstate the spirit of concession and compromise---that spirit which has never failed us in past perils, and which may be safely trusted for all the future. the south ought to join in doing this. the peace of the nation is as dear to them as to us. in memories of the past and hopes of the future, they share as largely as we. it would be on their part, a great act---great in its spirit, and great in its effect. it would be worth to the nation a hundred years' purchase of peace and prosperity. and what of sacrifice would they make? they only surrender to us, what they gave us for a consideration long, long ago; what they have not now, asked for, struggled or cared for; what has been thrust upon them, not less to their own astonishment than to ours.
third. that no slave should be carried into it, except by the owner, and for his own use as a settler; the penalty in all the cases being a fine upon the violator of the law, and freedom to the slave.
in reply to my argument, that the compromise measures of 1850, were a system of equivalents; and that the provisions of no one of them could fairly be carried to other subjects, without its corresponding equivalent being carried with it, the judge denied out-right, that these measures had any connection with, or dependence upon, each other. this is mere desperation. if they have no connection, why are they always spoken of in connection? why has he so spoken of them, a thousand times? why has he constantly called them a series of measures? why does everybody call them a compromise? why was california kept out of the union, six or seven months, if it was not because of its connection with the other measures? webster's leading definition of the verb "to compromise" is "to adjust and settle a difference, by mutual agreement with concessions of claims by the parties." this conveys precisely the popular understanding of the word compromise. we knew, before the judge told us, that these measures passed separately, and in distinct bills; and that no two of them were passed by the votes of precisely the same members. but we also know, and so does he know, that no one of them could have passed both branches of congress but for the understanding that the others were to pass also. upon this understanding each got votes, which it could have got in no other way. it is this fact, that gives to the measures their true character; and it is the universal knowledge of this fact, that has given them the name of compromise so expressive of that true character.
first. that no slave should be imported into the territory from foreign parts.
this declared indifference, but as i must think, covert real zeal for the spread of slavery, i can not but hate. i hate it because of the monstrous injustice of slavery itself. i hate it because it deprives our republican example of its just influence in the world---enables the enemies of free institutions, with plausibility, to taunt us as hypocrites---causes the real friends of freedom to doubt our sincerity, and especially because it forces so many really good men amongst ourselves into an open war with the very fundamental principles of civil liberty---criticising the declaration of independence, and insisting that there is no right principle of action but self-interest.
the new president, too, seizes the early occasion of the silliman letter to indorse and strongly construe that decision, and to express his astonishment than any different view had ever been entertained.
in the course of his reply, senator douglas remarked, in substance, that he had always considered this government was made for the white people and not for the negroes. why, in point of mere fact, i think so too. but in this remark of the judge, there is a significance, which i think is the key to the great mistake (if there is any such mistake) which he has made in this nebraska measure. it shows that the judge has no very vivid impression that the negro is a human; and consequently has no idea that there can be any moral question in legislating about him. in his view, the question of whether a new country shall be slave or free, is a matter of as utter indifference, as it is whether his neighbor shall plant his farm with tobacco, or stock it with horned cattle. now, whether this view is right or wrong, it is very certain that the great mass of mankind take a totally different view. they consider slavery a great moral wrong; and their feelings against it, is not evanescent, but eternal. it lies at the very foundation of their sense of justice; and it cannot be trifled with. it is a great and durable element of popular action, and, i think, no statesman can safely disregard it.
did we brave all then to falter now? - now - when that same enemy is wavering, dissevered, and belligerent?
first, that the nebraska country needed a territorial government.
the remaining sixteen of the "thirty-nine," so far as i have discovered, have left no record of their understanding upon the direct question of federal control of slavery in the federal territories. but there is much reason to believe that their understanding upon that question would not have appeared different from that of their twenty-three compeers, had it been manifested at all.
but enough! let all who believe that "our fathers, who framed the government under which we live, understood this question just as well, and even better, than we do now," speak as they spoke, and act as they acted upon it. this is all republicans ask - all republicans desire - in relation to slavery. as those fathers marked it, so let it be again marked, as an evil not to be extended, but to be tolerated and protected only because of and so far as its actual presence among us makes that toleration and protection a necessity. let all the guarantees those fathers gave it, be, not grudgingly, but fully and fairly, maintained. for this republicans contend, and with this, so far as i know or believe, they will be content.
to meet and overthrow the power of that dynasty, is the work now before all those who would prevent that consummation.
under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only, not ceased, but has constantly augmented.
"it hath no relish of salvation in it."
at length a squabble springs up between the president and the author of the nebraska bill, on the mere question of fact, whether the lecompton constitution was or was not, in any just sense, made by the people of kansas; and in that quarrel the latter declares that all he wants is a fair vote for the people, and that he cares not whether slavery be voted down or voted up. i do not understand his declaration that he cares not whether slavery be voted down or voted up, to be intended by him other than as an apt definition of the policy he would impress upon the public mind - the principle for which he declares he has suffered much, and is ready to suffer to the end.
we cannot absolutely know that all these exact adaptations are the result of preconcert. but when we see a lot of framed timbers, different potions of which we know have been gotten out at different times and places and by different workmen,- stephen, franklin, roger and james, for instance-and we see these timbers joined together, and see they exactly make the frame of a house or a mill, all the tenons and mortieses exactly fitting, and all the lengths and proportions of the different pieces exactly adapted to their respective places, and not a piece too many or too few-not omitting even scaffolding-or, if a single piece be lacking, we see the place in the frame exactly fitted and prepared to yet bring such piece in-in such a case, we find it impossible not to believe that stephen and franklin and roger and james all understood one another from the beginning, and all worked upon a common plan or draft drawn up before the first lick was struck.
to show all this, is easy and certain.
nor can we justifiably withhold this, on any ground save our conviction that slavery is wrong. if slavery is right, all words, acts, laws, and constitutions against it, are themselves wrong, and should be silenced, and swept away. if it is right, we cannot justly object to its nationality - its universality; if it is wrong, they cannot justly insist upon its extension - its enlargement. all they ask, we could readily grant, if we thought slavery right; all we ask, they could as readily grant, if they thought it wrong. their thinking it right, and our thinking it wrong, is the precise fact upon which depends the whole controversy. thinking it right, as they do, they are not to blame for desiring its full recognition, as being right; but, thinking it wrong, as we do, can we yield to them? can we cast our votes with their view, and against our own? in view of our moral, social, and political responsibilities, can we do this?
in my opinion, it will not cease, until a crisis shall have been reached, and passed -
in 1794, they prohibited an out-going slave-trade---that is, the taking of slaves from the united states to sell.
and how much would it avail you, if you could, by the use of john brown, helper's book, and the like, break up the republican organization? human action can be modified to some extent, but human nature cannot be changed. there is a judgment and a feeling against slavery in this nation, which cast at least a million and a half of votes. you cannot destroy that judgment and feeling - that sentiment - by breaking up the political organization which rallies around it. you can scarcely scatter and disperse an army which has been formed into order in the face of your heaviest fire; but if you could, how much would you gain by forcing the sentiment which created it out of the peaceful channel of the ballot-box, into some other channel? what would that other channel probably be? would the number of john browns be lessened or enlarged by the operation?
he has done all in his power to reduce the whole question of slavery to one of a mere right of property; and as such, how can he oppose the foreign slave trade-how can he refuse that trade in that "property" shall be "perfectly free"-unless he does it as a protection to the home production? and as the home producers will probably not ask the protection, he will be wholly without a ground of opposition.
we shall lie down pleasantly dreaming that the people of missouri are on the verge of making their state free; and we shall awake to the reality, instead, that the supreme court has made illinois a slave state.
it is this: does the proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the constitution, forbid our federal government to control as to slavery in our federal territories?
to be sure, what the robber demanded of me - my money - was my own; and i had a clear right to keep it; but it was no more my own than my vote is my own; and the threat of death to me, to extort my money, and the threat of destruction to the union, to extort my vote, can scarcely be distinguished in principle.
to enumerate the persons who thus acted, as being four in 1784, two in 1787, seventeen in 1789, three in 1798, two in 1804, and two in 1819-20 - there would be thirty of them. but this would be counting john langdon, roger sherman, william few, rufus king, and george read each twice, and abraham baldwin, three times. the true number of those of the "thirty-nine" whom i have shown to have acted upon the question, which, by the text, they understood better than we, is twenty-three, leaving sixteen not shown to have acted upon it in any way.
the cases i have mentioned are the only acts of the "thirty-nine," or of any of them, upon the direct issue, which i have been able to discover.
now, in the slave states, they count free negroes just as we do; and it so happens that besides their slaves, they have as many free negroes as we have, and thirty-three thousand over. thus their free negroes more than balance ours; and their advantage over us, in consequence of their slaves, still remains as i stated it.
again, you have amongst you, a sneaking individual, of the class of native tyrants, known as the "slave-dealer." he watches your necessities, and crawls up to buy your slave, at a speculating price. if you cannot help it, you sell to him; but if you can help it, you drive him from your door. you despise him utterly. you do not recognize him as a friend, or even as an honest man. your children must not play with his; they may rollick freely with the little negroes, but not with the "slave-dealer's children". if you are obliged to deal with him, you try to get through the job without so much as touching him. it is common with you to join hands with the men you meet; but with the slave dealer you avoid the ceremony---instinctively shrinking from the snaky contact. if he grows rich and retires from business, you still remember him, and still keep up the ban of non-intercourse upon him and his family. now why is this? you do not so treat the man who deals in corn, cattle or tobacco.
in order to [get?] a clear understanding of what the missouri compromise is, a short history of the preceding kindred subjects will perhaps be proper. when we established our independence, we did not own, or claim, the country to which this compromise applies. indeed, strictly speaking, the confederacy then owned no country at all; the states respectively owned the country within their limits; and some of them owned territory beyond their strict state limits. virginia thus owned the north-western territory---the country out of which the principal part of ohio, all indiana, all illinois, all michigan and all wisconsin, have since been formed. she also owned (perhaps within her then limits) what has since been formed into the state of kentucky. north carolina thus owned what is now the state of tennessee; and south carolina and georgia, in separate parts, owned what are now mississippi and alabama. connecticut, i think, owned the little remaining part of ohio---being the same where they now send giddings to congress, and beat all creation at making cheese. these territories, together with the states themselves, constituted all the country over which the confederacy then claimed any sort of jurisdiction. we were then living under the articles of confederation, which were superceded by the constitution several years afterwards. the question of ceding these territories to the general government was set on foot. mr. jefferson, the author of the declaration of independence, and otherwise a chief actor in the revolution; then a delegate in congress; afterwards twice president; who was, is, and perhaps will continue to be, the most distinguished politician of our history; a virginian by birth and continued residence, and withal, a slave-holder; conceived the idea of taking that occasion, to prevent slavery ever going into the north-western territory. he prevailed on the virginia legislature to adopt his views, and to cede the territory, making the prohibition of slavery therein, a condition of the deed. congress accepted the cession, with the condition; and in the first ordinance (which the acts of congress were then called) for the government of the territory, provided that slavery should never be permitted therein. this is the famed ordinance of '87 so often spoken of. thenceforward, for sixty-one years, and until in 1848, the last scrap of this territory came into the union as the state of wisconsin, all parties acted in quiet obedience to this ordinance. it is now what jefferson foresaw and intended---the happy home of teeming millions of free, white, prosperous people, and no slave amongst them.
i am aware judge douglas now argues that the subsequent express repeal is no substantial alteration of the bill. this argument seems wonderful to me. it is as if one should argue that white and black are not different. he admits, however, that there is a literal change in the bill; and that he made the change in deference to other senators, who would not support the bill without. this proves that those other senators thought the change a substantial one; and that the judge thought their opinions worth deferring to. his own opinions, therefore, seem not to rest on a very firm basis even in his own mind---and i suppose the world believes, and will continue to believe, that precisely on the substance of that change this whole agitation has arisen.
either the opponents of slavery, will arrest the further spread of it, and place it where the public mind shall rest in the belief that it is in course of ultimate extinction; or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the states, old as well as new-north as well as south.
this same generation of men, and mostly the same individuals of the generation, who declared this principle---who declared independence---who fought the war of the revolution through---who afterwards made the constitution under which we still live---these same men passed the ordinance of '87, declaring that slavery should never go to the north-west territory. i have no doubt judge douglas thinks they were very inconsistent in this. it is a question of discrimination between them and him. but there is not an inch of ground left for his claiming that their opinions---their example---their authority---are on his side in this controversy.
who is responsible for this? is it those who resist the measure; or those who, causelessly, brought it forward, and pressed it through, having reason to know, and, in fact, knowing it must and would be so resisted? it could not but be expected by its author, that it would be looked upon as a measure for the extension of slavery, aggravated by a gross breach of faith. argue as you will, and long as you will, this is the naked front and aspect, of the measure. and in this aspect, it could not but produce agitation. slavery is founded in the selfishness of man's nature---opposition to it, is [in?] his love of justice. these principles are an eternal antagonism; and when brought into collision so fiercely, as slavery extension brings them, shocks, and throes, and convulsions must ceaselessly follow. repeal the missouri compromise---repeal all compromises---repeal the declaration of independence---repeal all past history, you still can not repeal human nature. it still will be the abundance of man's heart, that slavery extension is wrong; and out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth will continue to speak.
let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms--and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
but next it is said that the compromises of '50 and the ratification of them by both political parties, in '52, established a new principle, which required the repeal of the missouri compromise. this again i deny. i deny it, and demand the proof. i have already stated fully what the compromises of '50 are. the particular part of those measures, for which the virtual repeal of the missouri compromise is sought to be inferred (for it is admitted they contain nothing about it, in express terms) is the provision in the utah and new mexico laws, which permits them when they seek admission into the union as states, to come in with or without slavery as they shall then see fit. now i insist this provision was made for utah and new mexico, and for no other place whatever. it had no more direct reference to nebraska than it had to the territories of the moon. but, say they, it had reference to nebraska, in principle. let us see. the north consented to this provision, not because they considered it right in itself; but because they were compensated---paid for it. they, at the same time, got california into the union as a free state. this was far the best part of all they had struggled for by the wilmot proviso. they also got the area of slavery somewhat narrowed in the settlement of the boundary of texas. also, they got the slave trade abolished in the district of columbia. for all these desirable objects the north could afford to yield something; and they did yield to the south the utah and new mexico provision. i do not mean that the whole north, or even a majority, yielded, when the law passed; but enough yielded, when added to the vote of the south, to carry the measure. now can it be pretended that the principle of this arrangement requires us to permit the same provision to be applied to nebraska, without any equivalent at all? give us another free state; press the boundary of texas still further back, give us another step toward the destruction of slavery in the district, and you present us a similar case. but ask us not to repeat, for nothing, what you paid for in the first instance. if you wish the thing again, pay again. that is the principle of the compromises of '50, if indeed they had any principles beyond their specific terms---it was the system of equivalents.
we dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of americans--born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage--and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
in 1807, in apparent hot haste, they passed the law, nearly a year in advance to take effect the first day of 1808---the very first day the constitution would permit---prohibiting the african slave trade by heavy pecuniary and corporal penalties.
also, about a month after the introduction of the bill, on the judge's own motion, it is so amended as to declare the missouri compromise inoperative and void; and, substantially, that the people who go and settle there may establish slavery, or exclude it, as they may see fit. in this shape the bill passed both branches of congress, and became a law.
and so, my fellow americans: ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country.
second, that in various ways, the public had repudiated it, and demanded the repeal; and therefore should not now complain of it.
to those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. we shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. but we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom--and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
the presidential inauguration came, and still no decision of the court; but the incoming president, in his inaugural address, fervently exhorted the people to abide by the forthcoming decision, whatever it might be.
but, however this may be, we know the opening of new countries to slavery, tends to the perpetuation of the institution, and so does keep men in slavery who otherwise would be free. this result we do not feel like favoring, and we are under no legal obligation to suppress our feelings in this respect.
and lastly, that the repeal establishes a principle, which is intrinsically right.
the working points of that machinery are:
i think, and shall try to show, that it is wrong; wrong in its direct effect, letting slavery into kansas and nebraska---and wrong in its prospective principle, allowing it to spread to every other part of the wide world, where men can be found inclined to take it.
i had asked "if in carrying the provisions of the utah and new mexico laws to nebraska, you could clear away other objection, how can you leave nebraska 'perfectly free' to introduce slavery before she forms a constitution---during her territorial government?---while the utah and new mexico laws only authorize it when they form constitutions, and are admitted into the union?" to this judge douglas answered that the utah and new mexico laws, also authorized it before; and to prove this, he read from one of their laws, as follows: "that the legislative power of said territory shall extend to all rightful subjects of legislation consistent with the constitution of the united states and the provisions of this act."
our senator also objects that those who oppose him in this measure do not entirely agree with one another. he reminds me that in my firm adherence to the constitutional rights of the slave states, i differ widely from others who are co-operating with me in opposing the nebraska bill; and he says it is not quite fair to oppose him in this variety of ways. he should remember that he took us by surprise---astounded us---by this measure. we were thunderstruck and stunned; and we reeled and fell in utter confusion. but we rose each fighting, grasping whatever he could first reach---a scythe---a pitchfork---a chopping axe, or a butcher's cleaver. we struck in the direction of the sound; and we are rapidly closing in upon him. he must not think to divert us from our purpose, by showing us that our drill, our dress, and our weapons, are not entirely perfect and uniform. when the storm shall be past, he shall find us still americans; no less devoted to the continued union and prosperity of the country than heretofore.
but, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. the brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. the world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. it is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. it is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under god, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
a leading douglas democratic newspaper thinks douglas' superior talent will be needed to resist the revival of the african slave trade.
in your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. since this country was founded, each generation of americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. the graves of young americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
we are now far into the fifth year, since a policy was initiated, with the avowed object, and confident promise, of putting an end to slavery agitation.
"the missouri compromise had been in practical operation for about a quarter of a century, and had received the sanction and approbation of men of all parties in every section of the union. it had allayed all sectional jealousies and irritations growing out of this vexed question, and harmonized and tranquilized the whole country. it had given to henry clay, as its prominent champion, the proud sobriquet of the 'great pacificator' and by that title and for that service, his political friends had repeatedly appealed to the people to rally under his standard, as a presidential candidate, as the man who had exhibited the patriotism and the power to suppress, an unholy and treasonable agitation, and preserve the union. he was not aware that any man or any party from any section of the union, had ever urged as an objection to mr. clay, that he was the great champion of the missouri compromise. on the contrary, the effort was made by the opponents of mr. clay, to prove that he was not entitled to the exclusive merit of that great patriotic measure, and that the honor was equally due to others as well as to him, for securing its adoption---that it had its origin in the hearts of all patriotic men, who desired to preserve and perpetuate the blessings of our glorious union---an origin akin that of the constitution of the united states, conceived in the same spirit of fraternal affection, and calculated to remove forever, the only danger, which seemed to threaten, at some distant day, to sever the social bond of union. all the evidences of public opinion at that day, seemed to indicate that this compromise had been canonized in the hearts of the american people, as a sacred thing which no ruthless hand would ever be reckless enough to disturb."
when this obvious mistake of the judges shall be brought to their notice, is it not reasonable to expect that they will withdraw the mistaken statement, and reconsider the conclusion based upon it?
again, if congress, at that time, intended that all future territories should, when admitted as states, come in with or without slavery, at their own option, why did it not say so? with such an universal provision, all know the bills could not have passed. did they, then---could they---establish a principle contrary to their own intention? still further, if they intended to establish the principle that wherever congress had control, it should be left to the people to do as they thought fit with slavery why did they not authorize the people of the district of columbia at their adoption to abolish slavery within these limits? i personally know that this has not been left undone, because it was unthought of. it was frequently spoken of by members of congress and by citizens of washington six years ago; and i heard no one express a doubt that a system of gradual emancipation, with compensation to owners, would meet the approbation of a large majority of the white people of the district. but without the action of congress they could say nothing; and congress said ``no.'' in the measures of 1850 congress had the subject of slavery in the district expressly in hand. if they were then establishing the principle of allowing the people to do as they please with slavery, why did they not apply the principle to that people?
the seventy-six members of that congress, including sixteen of the framers of the original constitution, as before stated, were pre- eminently our fathers who framed that part of "the government under which we live," which is now claimed as forbidding the federal government to control slavery in the federal territories.
on the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thought were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. all dreaded it - all sought to avert it. while the inaugeral [sic] address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war - seeking to dissole [sic] the union, and divide effects, by negotiation. both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. and the war came.
an inspection of the constitution will show that the right of property in a slave is not "distinctly and expressly affirmed" in it. bear in mind, the judges do not pledge their judicial opinion that such right is impliedly affirmed in the constitution; but they pledge their veracity that it is "distinctly and expressly" affirmed there - "distinctly," that is, not mingled with anything else - "expressly," that is, in words meaning just that, without the aid of any inference, and susceptible of no other meaning.
before proceeding, let me say i think i have no prejudice against the southern people. they are just what we would be in their situation. if slavery did not now exist amongst them, they would not introduce it. if it did now exist amongst us, we should not instantly give it up. this i believe of the masses north and south. doubtless there are individuals, on both sides, who would not hold slaves under any circumstances; and others who would gladly introduce slavery anew, if it were out of existence. we know that some southern men do free their slaves, go north, and become tip-top abolitionists; while some northern ones go south, and become most cruel slave-masters.
but all this; to my judgment, furnishes no more excuse for permitting slavery to go into our own free territory, than it would for reviving the african slave trade by law. the law which forbids the bringing of slaves from africa; and that which has so long forbid the taking them to nebraska, can hardly be distinguished on any moral principle; and the repeal of the former could find quite as plausible excuses as that of the latter.
but you say this question should be left to the people of nebraska, because they are more particularly interested. if this be the rule, you must leave it to each individual to say for himself whether he will have slaves. what better moral right have thirty-one citizens of nebraska to say, that the thirty-second shall not hold slaves, than the people of the thirty-one states have to say that slavery shall not go into the thirty-second state at all?
at springfield, twelve days ago, where i had spoken substantially as i have here, judge douglas replied to me---and as he is to reply to me here, i shall attempt to anticipate him, by noticing some of the points he made there.
wrong as we think slavery is, we can yet afford to let it alone where it is, because that much is due to the necessity arising from its actual presence in the nation; but can we, while our votes will prevent it, allow it to spread into the national territories, and to overrun us here in these free states? if our sense of duty forbids this, then let us stand by our duty, fearlessly and effectively. let us be diverted by none of those sophistical contrivances wherewith we are so industriously plied and belabored - contrivances such as groping for some middle ground between the right and the wrong, vain as the search for a man who should be neither a living man nor a dead man - such as a policy of "don't care" on a question about which all true men do care - such as union appeals beseeching true union men to yield to disunionists, reversing the divine rule, and calling, not the sinners, but the righteous to repentance - such as invocations to washington, imploring men to unsay what washington said, and undo what washington did.
two years ago the republicans of the nation mustered over thirteen hundred thousand strong.
is it not a little presumptuous in any one at this day to affirm that the two things which that congress deliberately framed, and carried to maturity at the same time, are absolutely inconsistent with each other? and does not such affirmation become impudently absurd when coupled with the other affirmation from the same mouth, that those who did the two things, alleged to be inconsistent, understood whether they really were inconsistent better than we - better than he who affirms that they are inconsistent?
again, it is claimed that by the resolutions of the illinois legislature, passed in 1851, the repeal of the missouri compromise was demanded. this i deny also. whatever may be worked out by a criticism of the language of those resolutions, the people have never understood them as being any more than an endorsement of the compromises of 1850; and a release of our senators from voting for the wilmot proviso. the whole people are living witnesses, that this only, was their view. finally, it is asked "if we did not mean to apply the utah and new mexico provision, to all future territories, what did we mean, when we, in 1852, endorsed the compromises of '50?"
wise counsels may accelerate or mistakes delay it, but sooner or later the victory is sure to come.
secondly, that "subject to the constitution of the united states," neither congress nor a territorial legislature can exclude slavery from any united states territory.
when southern people tell us they are no more responsible for the origin of slavery, than we; i acknowledge the fact. when it is said that the institution exists; and that it is very difficult to get rid of it, in any satisfactory way, i can understand and appreciate the saying. i surely will not blame them for not doing what i should not know how to do myself. if all earthly power were given me, i should not know what to do, as to the existing institution. my first impulse would be to free all the slaves, and send them to liberia,---to their own native land. but a moment's reflection would convince me, that whatever of high hope, (as i think there is) there may be in this, in the long run, its sudden execution is impossible. if they were all landed there in a day, they would all perish in the next ten days; and there are not surplus shipping and surplus money enough in the world to carry them there in many times ten days. what then? free them all, and keep them among us as underlings? is it quite certain that this betters their condition? i think i would not hold one in slavery, at any rate; yet the point is not clear enough for me to denounce people upon. what next? free them, and make them politically and socially, our equals? my own feelings will not admit of this; and if mine would, we well know that those of the great mass of white people will not. whether this feeling accords with justice and sound judgment, is not the sole question, if indeed, it is any part of it. a universal feeling, whether well or ill-founded, can not be safely disregarded. we can not, then, make them equals. it does seem to me that systems of gradual emancipation might be adopted; but for their tardiness in this, i will not undertake to judge our brethren of the south.
it will become all one thing, or all the other.
another fact showing the specific character of the missouri law---showing that it intended no more than it expressed---showing that the line was not intended as a universal dividing line between free and slave territory, present and prospective---north of which slavery could never go---is the fact that by that very law, missouri came in as a slave state, north of the line. if that law contained any prospective principle, the whole law must be looked to in order to ascertain what the principle was. and by this rule, the south could fairly contend that inasmuch as they got one slave state north of the line at the inception of the law, they have the right to have another given them north of it occasionally---now and then in the indefinite westward extension of the line. this demonstrates the absurdity of attempting to deduce a prospective principle from the missouri compromise line.
this result is not doubtful. we shall not fail-if we stand firm, we shall not fail.
i do not expect the union to be dissolved - i do not expect the house to fall - but i do expect it will cease to be divided.
possibly, this is a mere omission; but who can be quite sure, if mclean or curtis had sought to get into the opinion a declaration of unlimited power in the people of a state to exclude slavery from their limits, just as chase and mace sought to get such declaration, in behalf of the people of a territory, into the nebraska bill-i ask, who can be quite sure that it would not have been voted down, in the one case, as it had been in the other?
in 1820, finding these provisions ineffectual, they declared the trade piracy, and annexed to it, the extreme penalty of death. while all this was passing in the general government, five or six of the original slave states had adopted systems of gradual emancipation; and by which the institution was rapidly becoming extinct within these limits.
in the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. i do not shrink from this responsibility--i welcome it. i do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. the energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it--and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
mr. jefferson did not mean to say, nor do i, that the power of emancipation is in the federal government. he spoke of virginia; and, as to the power of emancipation, i speak of the slaveholding states only. the federal government, however, as we insist, has the power of restraining the extension of the institution - the power to insure that a slave insurrection shall never occur on any american soil which is now free from slavery.
and then it is to be remembered that "our fathers, who framed the government under which we live" - the men who made the constitution - decided this same constitutional question in our favor, long ago - decided it without division among themselves, when making the decision; without division among themselves about the meaning of it after it was made, and, so far as any evidence is left, without basing it upon any mistaken statement of facts.
while the opinion of the court, by chief justice taney, in the dred scott case, and the separate opinions of all the concurring judges, expressly declare that the constitution of the united states neither permits congress nor a territorial legislature to exclude slavery from any united states territory, they all omit to declare whether or not the same constitution permits a state, or the people of a state to exclude it.
at this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phrase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. the progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, i trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. with high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.
two of the twenty-three voted against congressional prohibition of slavery in the federal territories, in the instances in which they acted upon the question. but for what reasons they so voted is not known. they may have done so because they thought a proper division of local from federal authority, or some provision or principle of the constitution, stood in the way; or they may, without any such question, have voted against the prohibition, on what appeared to them to be sufficient grounds of expediency. no one who has sworn to support the constitution can conscientiously vote for what he understands to be an unconstitutional measure, however expedient he may think it; but one may and ought to vote against a measure which he deems constitutional, if, at the same time, he deems it inexpedient. it, therefore, would be unsafe to set down even the two who voted against the prohibition, as having done so because, in their understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or anything in the constitution, forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in federal territory.
now i had seen the washington act before; and i have carefully examined it since; and i aver that there is no repeal of the ordinance of '87, or of any prohibition of slavery, in it. in express terms, there is absolutely nothing in the whole law upon the subject---in fact, nothing to lead a reader to think of the subject. to my judgment, it is equally free from every thing from which such repeal can be legally implied; but however this may be, are men now to be entrapped by a legal implication, extracted from covert language, introduced perhaps, for the very purpose of entrapping them? i sincerely wish every man could read this law quite through, carefully watching every sentence, and every line, for a repeal of the ordinance of '87 or any thing equivalent to it.
the supreme court met again, did not announce their decision, but ordered a re-argument.
you say we are sectional. we deny it. that makes an issue; and the burden of proof is upon you. you produce your proof; and what is it? why, that our party has no existence in your section - gets no votes in your section. the fact is substantially true; but does it prove the issue? if it does, then in case we should, without change of principle, begin to get votes in your section, we should thereby cease to be sectional. you cannot escape this conclusion; and yet, are you willing to abide by it? if you are, you will probably soon find that we have ceased to be sectional, for we shall get votes in your section this very year. you will then begin to discover, as the truth plainly is, that your proof does not touch the issue. the fact that we get no votes in your section, is a fact of your making, and not of ours. and if there be fault in that fact, that fault is primarily yours, and remains until you show that we repel you by some wrong principle or practice. if we do repel you by any wrong principle or practice, the fault is ours; but this brings you to where you ought to have started - to a discussion of the right or wrong of our principle. if our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section for the benefit of ours, or for any other object, then our principle, and we with it, are sectional, and are justly opposed and denounced as such. meet us, then, on the question of whether our principle, put in practice, would wrong your section; and so meet it as if it were possible that something may be said on our side. do you accept the challenge? no! then you really believe that the principle which "our fathers who framed the government under which we live" thought so clearly right as to adopt it, and indorse it again and again, upon their official oaths, is in fact so clearly wrong as to demand your condemnation without a moment's consideration.
another important objection to this application of the right of self-government, is that it enables the first few, to deprive the succeeding many, of a free exercise of the right of self-government. the first few may get slavery in, and the subsequent many cannot easily get it out. how common is the remark now in the slave states---"if we were only clear of our slaves, how much better it would be for us." they are actually deprived of the privilege of governing themselves as they would, by the action of a very few, in the beginning. the same thing was true of the whole nation at the time our constitution was formed.
the washington act not only differs vitally from the utah and new mexico acts; but the nebraska act differs vitally from both. by the latter act the people are left ``perfectly free'' to regulate their own domestic concerns, &c.; but in all the former, all their laws are to be submitted to congress, and if disapproved are to be null. the washington act goes even further; it absolutely prohibits the territorial legislation [legislature?], by very strong and guarded language, from establishing banks, or borrowing money on the faith of the territory. is this the sacred right of self-government we hear vaunted so much? no sir, the nebraska bill finds no model in the acts of '50 or the washington act. it finds no model in any law from adam till today. as phillips says of napoleon, the nebraska act is grand, gloomy, and peculiar; wrapped in the solitude of its own originality; without a model, and without a shadow upon the earth.
to those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. united there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. divided there is little we can do--for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
and if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
finally, i insist, that if there is any thing which it is the duty of the whole people to never entrust to any hands but their own, that thing is the preservation and perpetuity, of their own liberties, and institutions. and if they shall think, as i do, that the extension of slavery endangers them, more than any, or all other causes, how recreant to themselves, if they submit the question, and with it, the fate of their country, to a mere hand-full of men, bent only on temporary self-interest. if this question of slavery extension were an insignificant one---one having no power to do harm---it might be shuffled aside in this way. but being, as it is, the great behemoth of danger, shall the strong gripe of the nation be loosened upon him, to entrust him to the hands of such feeble keepers?
the answer must be: "the constitution of the united states." that constitution consists of the original, framed in 1787, (and under which the present government first went into operation,) and twelve subsequently framed amendments, the first ten of which were framed in 1789.
but nebraska is urged as a great union-saving measure. well i too, go for saving the union. much as i hate slavery, i would consent to the extension of it rather than see the union dissolved, just as i would consent to any great evil, to avoid a greater one. but when i go to union saving, i must believe, at least, that the means i employ has some adaptation to the end. to my mind, nebraska has no such adaptation.
finally, whether you are citizens of america or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. with a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking his blessing and his help, but knowing that here on earth god's work must truly be our own. the repeal of the missouri compromise, and the propriety of its restoration, constitute the subject of what i am about to say.
but one great argument in the support of the repeal of the missouri compromise, is still to come. that argument is "the sacred right of self government." it seems our distinguished senator has found great difficulty in getting his antagonists, even in the senate to meet him fairly on this argument---some poet has said
at the hazzard of being thought one of the fools of this quotation, i meet that argument---i rush in, i take that bull by the horns.
i do not read this extract to involve judge douglas in an inconsistency. if he afterwards thought he had been wrong, it was right for him to change. i bring this forward merely to show the high estimate placed on the missouri compromise by all parties up to so late as the year 1849.
senator douglas holds, we know, that a man may rightfully be wiser today than he was yesterday-that he may rightfully change when he finds himself wrong.
if we could first know where we are, and whither we are tending, we could better judge what to do, and how to do it.
but when i am told i must leave it altogether to other people to say whether new partners are to be bred up and brought into the firm, on the same degrading terms against me. i respectfully demur. i insist, that whether i shall be a whole man, or only, the half of one, in comparison with others, is a question in which i am somewhat concerned; and one which no other man can have a sacred right of deciding for me. if i am wrong in this---if it really be a sacred right of self-government, in the man who shall go to nebraska, to decide whether he will be the equal of me or the double of me, then after he shall have exercised that right, and thereby shall have reduced me to a still smaller fraction of a man than i already am, i should like for some gentleman deeply skilled in the mysteries of sacred rights, to provide himself with a microscope, and peep about, and find out, if he can, what has become of my sacred rights! they will surely be too small for detection with the naked eye.
but, so far, i have been considering the understanding of the question manifested by the framers of the original constitution. in and by the original instrument, a mode was provided for amending it; and, as i have already stated, the present frame of "the government under which we live" consists of that original, and twelve amendatory articles framed and adopted since. those who now insist that federal control of slavery in federal territories violates the constitution, point us to the provisions which they suppose it thus violates; and, as i understand, that all fix upon provisions in these amendatory articles, and not in the original instrument. the supreme court, in the dred scott case, plant themselves upon the fifth amendment, which provides that no person shall be deprived of "life, liberty or property without due process of law;" while senator douglas and his peculiar adherents plant themselves upon the tenth amendment, providing that "the powers not delegated to the united states by the constitution" "are reserved to the states respectively, or to the people."
my fellow citizens of the world: ask not what america will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
before the then next presidential election, the law case came to, and was argued in the supreme court of the united states; but the decision of it was deferred until after the election. still, before the election, senator trumbull, on the floor of the senate, requests the leading advocate of the nebraska bill to state his opinion whether the people of a territory can constitutionally exclude slavery from their limits; and the latter answers, "that is a question for the supreme court."
now, it so happens that these amendments were framed by the first congress which sat under the constitution - the identical congress which passed the act already mentioned, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the northwestern territory. not only was it the same congress, but they were the identical, same individual men who, at the same session, and at the same time within the session, had under consideration, and in progress toward maturity, these constitutional amendments, and this act prohibiting slavery in all the territory the nation then owned. the constitutional amendments were introduced before, and passed after the act enforcing the ordinance of '87; so that, during the whole pendency of the act to enforce the ordinance, the constitutional amendments were also pending.
i fully indorse this, and i adopt it as a text for this discourse. i so adopt it because it furnishes a precise and an agreed starting point for a discussion between republicans and that wing of the democracy headed by senator douglas. it simply leaves the inquiry: "what was the understanding those fathers had of the question mentioned?"
a few words now to republicans. it is exceedingly desirable that all parts of this great confederacy shall be at peace, and in harmony, one with another. let us republicans do our part to have it so. even though much provoked, let us do nothing through passion and ill temper. even though the southern people will not so much as listen to us, let us calmly consider their demands, and yield to them if, in our deliberate view of our duty, we possibly can. judging by all they say and do, and by the subject and nature of their controversy with us, let us determine, if we can, what will satisfy them.
it will throw additional light on the latter, to go back, and run the mind over the string of historical facts already stated. several things will now appear less dark and mysterious than they did when they were transpiring. the people were to be left "perfectly free" "subject only to the constitution." what the constitution had to do with it, outsides could not then see. plainly enough now, it was an exactly fitted nitch for the dred scott decision to afterward come in, and declare that perfect freedom of the people, to be just no freedom at all.
this opened all the national territory to slavery; and was the first point gained.
but neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course--both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
the election came. mr. buchanan was elected, and the indorsement, such as it was, secured. that was the second point gained. the indorsement, however, fell short of a clear popular majority by nearly four hundred thousand votes, and so, perhaps, was not over-whelmingly reliable and satisfactory.
"but," said opposition members, "let us be more specific- let us amend the bill so as to expressly declare that the people of the territory may exclude slavery." "not we," said the friends of the measure; and down they voted the amendment.
again, george washington, another of the "thirty-nine," was then president of the united states, and, as such approved and signed the bill; thus completing its validity as a law, and thus showing that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the constitution, forbade the federal government, to control as to slavery in federal territory.
still further; there are constitutional relations between the slave and free states, which are degrading to the latter. we are under legal obligations to catch and return their runaway slaves to them---a sort of dirty, disagreeable job, which i believe, as a general rule the slave-holders will not perform for one another. then again, in the control of the government---the management of the partnership affairs---they have greatly the advantage of us. by the constitution, each state has two senators---each has a number of representatives; in proportion to the number of its people---and each has a number of presidential electors, equal to the whole number of its senators and representatives together. but in ascertaining the number of the people, for this purpose, five slaves are counted as being equal to three whites. the slaves do not vote; they are only counted and so used, as to swell the influence of the white people's votes. the practical effect of this is more aptly shown by a comparison of the states of south carolina and maine. south carolina has six representatives, and so has maine; south carolina has eight presidential electors, and so has maine. this is precise equality so far; and, of course they are equal in senators, each having two. thus in the control of the government, the two states are equals precisely. but how are they in the number of their white people? maine has 581,813---while south carolina has 274,567. maine has twice as many as south carolina, and 32,679 over. thus each white man in south carolina is more than the double of any man in maine. this is all because south carolina, besides her free people, has 384,984 slaves. the south carolinian has precisely the same advantage over the white man in every other free state, as well as in maine. he is more than the double of any one of us in this crowd. the same advantage, but not to the same extent, is held by all the citizens of the slave states, over those of the free; and it is an absolute truth, without an exception, that there is no voter in any slave state, but who has more legal power in the government, than any voter in any free state. there is no instance of exact equality; and the disadvantage is against us the whole chapter through. this principle, in the aggregate, gives the slave states, in the present congress, twenty additional representatives---being seven more than the whole majority by which they passed the nebraska bill.
for the purpose of adhering rigidly to the text, i have purposely omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any person, however distinguished, other than the thirty-nine fathers who framed the original constitution; and, for the same reason, i have also omitted whatever understanding may have been manifested by any of the "thirty-nine" even, on any other phase of the general question of slavery. if we should look into their acts and declarations on those other phases, as the foreign slave trade, and the morality and policy of slavery generally, it would appear to us that on the direct question of federal control of slavery in federal territories, the sixteen, if they had acted at all, would probably have acted just as the twenty-three did. among that sixteen were several of the most noted anti-slavery men of those times - as dr. franklin, alexander hamilton and gouverneur morris - while there was not one now known to have been otherwise, unless it may be john rutledge, of south carolina.
again, you say we have made the slavery question more prominent than it formerly was. we deny it. we admit that it is more prominent, but we deny that we made it so. it was not we, but you, who discarded the old policy of the fathers. we resisted, and still resist, your innovation; and thence comes the greater prominence of the question. would you have that question reduced to its former proportions? go back to that old policy. what has been will be again, under the same conditions. if you would have the peace of the old times, readopt the precepts and policy of the old times.
then opened the roar of loose declamation in favor of "squatter sovereignty," and "sacred right of self government."
equal justice to the south, it is said, requires us to consent to the extending of slavery to new countries. that is to say, inasmuch as you do not object to my taking my hog to nebraska, therefore i must not object to you taking your slave. now, i admit this is perfectly logical, if there is no difference between hogs and negroes. but while you thus require me to deny the humanity of the negro, i wish to ask whether you of the south yourselves, have ever been willing to do as much? it is kindly provided that of all those who come into the world, only a small percentage are natural tyrants. that percentage is no larger in the slave states than in the free. the great majority, south as well as north, have human sympathies, of which they can no more divest themselves than they can of their sensibility to physical pain. these sympathies in the bosoms of the southern people, manifest in many ways, their sense of the wrong of slavery, and their consciousness that, after all, there is humanity in the negro. if they deny this, let me address them a few plain questions. in 1820 you joined the north, almost unanimously, in declaring the african slave trade piracy, and in annexing to it the punishment of death. why did you do this? if you did not feel that it was wrong, why did you join in providing that men should be hung for it? the practice was no more than bringing wild negroes from africa, to sell to such as would buy them. but you never thought of hanging men for catching and selling wild horses, wild buffaloes or wild bears.
now, and here, let me guard a little against being misunderstood. i do not mean to say we are bound to follow implicitly in whatever our fathers did. to do so, would be to discard all the lights of current experience - to reject all progress - all improvement. what i do say is, that if we would supplant the opinions and policy of our fathers in any case, we should do so upon evidence so conclusive, and argument so clear, that even their great authority, fairly considered and weighed, cannot stand; and most surely not in a case whereof we ourselves declare they understood the question better than we.
the nearest approach to the point of declaring the power of a state over slavery, is made by judge nelson. he approaches it more than once, using the precise idea, and almost the language too, of the nebraska act. on one occasion his exact language is, "except in cases where the power is restrained by the constitution of the united states, the law of the state is supreme over the subject of slavery within its jurisdiction."
if they had only pledged their judicial opinion that such right is affirmed in the instrument by implication, it would be open to others to show that neither the word "slave" nor "slavery" is to be found in the constitution, nor the word "property" even, in any connection with language alluding to the things slave, or slavery; and that wherever in that instrument the slave is alluded to, he is called a "person;" - and wherever his master's legal right in relation to him is alluded to, it is spoken of as "service or labor which may be due," - as a debt payable in service or labor. also, it would be open to show, by contemporaneous history, that this mode of alluding to slaves and slavery, instead of speaking of them, was employed on purpose to exclude from the constitution the idea that there could be property in man.
let no one be deceived. the spirit of seventy-six and the spirit of nebraska, are utter antagonisms; and the former is being rapidly displaced by the latter.
this shows exactly where we now are; and partially also, whither we are tending.
and this may be expected if the doctrine of "care not whether slavery be voted down or voted up," shall gain upon the public mind sufficiently to give promise that such a decision can be maintained when made.
in the fall of 1848 the gold mines were discovered in california. this attracted people to it with unprecedented rapidity, so that on, or soon after, the meeting of the new congress in dec., 1849, she already had a population of nearly a hundred thousand, had called a convention, formed a state constitution, excluding slavery, and was knocking for admission into the union. the proviso men, of course were for letting her in, but the senate, always true to the other side would not consent to her admission. and there california stood, kept out of the union, because she would not let slavery into her borders. under all the circumstances perhaps this was not wrong. there were other points of dispute, connected with the general question of slavery, which equally needed adjustment. the south clamored for a more efficient fugitive slave law. the north clamored for the abolition of a peculiar species of slave trade in the district of columbia, in connection with which, in view from the windows of the capitol, a sort of negro-livery stable, where droves of negroes were collected, temporarily kept, and finally taken to southern markets, precisely like droves of horses, had been openly maintained for fifty years. utah and new mexico needed territorial governments; and whether slavery should or should not be prohibited within them, was another question. the indefinite western boundary of texas was to be settled. she was received a slave state; and consequently the farther west the slavery men could push her boundary, the more slave country they secured. and the farther east the slavery opponents could thrust the boundary back, the less slave ground was secured. thus this was just as clearly a slavery question as any of the others.
such a decision is all that slavery now lacks of being alike lawful in all the states.
as i desire to present my own connected view of this subject, my remarks will not be, specifically, an answer to judge douglas; yet, as i proceed, the main points he has presented will arise, and will receive such respectful attention as i may be able to give them.
another lullaby argument is, that taking slaves to new countries does not increase their number---does not make any one slave who otherwise would be free. there is some truth in this, and i am glad of it, but it [is] not wholly true. the african slave trade is not yet effectually suppressed; and if we make a reasonable deduction for the white people amongst us, who are foreigners, and the descendants of foreigners, arriving here since 1808, we shall find the increase of the black population out-running that of the white, to an extent unaccountable, except by supposing that some of them too, have been coming from africa. if this be so, the opening of new countries to the institution, increases the demand for, and augments the price of slaves, and so does, in fact, make slaves of freemen by causing them to be brought from africa, and sold into bondage.
and now, in turn, let me ask a few questions. if by any, or all these matters, the repeal of the missouri compromise was commanded, why was not the command sooner obeyed? why was the repeal omitted in the nebraska bill of 1853? why was it omitted in the original bill of 1854? why, in the accompanying report, was such a repeal characterized as a departure from the course pursued in 1850? and its continued omission recommended?
thus we see, the plain unmistakable spirit of that age, towards slavery, was hostility to the principle, and toleration, only by necessity.
in 1787, still before the constitution, but while the convention was in session framing it, and while the northwestern territory still was the only territory owned by the united states, the same question of prohibiting slavery in the territory again came before the congress of the confederation; and two more of the "thirty-nine" who afterward signed the constitution, were in that congress, and voted on the question. they were william blount and william few; and they both voted for the prohibition - thus showing that, in their understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything else, properly forbids the federal government to control as to slavery in federal territory. this time the prohibition became a law, being part of what is now well known as the ordinance of '87.
but even if we fail to technically restore the compromise, it is still a great point to carry a popular vote in favor of the restoration. the moral weight of such a vote can not be estimated too highly. the authors of nebraska are not at all satisfied with the destruction of the compromise---an endorsement of this principle, they proclaim to be the great object. with them, nebraska alone is a small matter---to establish a principle, for future use, is what they particularly desire.
that is what we have to do.
mr. president and gentlemen of the convention.
any why the hasty after indorsements of the decision by the president and others?
in support of his application of the doctrine of self-government, senator douglas has sought to bring to his aid the opinions and examples of our revolutionary fathers. i am glad he has done this. i love the sentiments of those old-time men; and shall be most happy to abide by their opinions. he shows us that when it was in contemplation for the colonies to break off from great britain, and set up a new government for themselves, several of the states instructed their delegates to go for the measure provided each state should be allowed to regulate its domestic concerns in its own way. i do not quote; but this in substance. this was right. i see nothing objectionable in it. i also think it probable that it had some reference to the existence of slavery amongst them. i will not deny that it had. but had it, in any reference to the carrying of slavery into new countries? that is the question; and we will let the fathers themselves answer it.
let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
this act also was passed without yeas and nays. in the congress which passed it, there were two of the "thirty-nine." they were abraham baldwin and jonathan dayton. as stated in the case of mississippi, it is probable they both voted for it. they would not have allowed it to pass without recording their opposition to it, if, in their understanding, it violated either the line properly dividing local from federal authority, or any provision of the constitution.
he commenced by stating i had assumed all the way through, that the principle of the nebraska bill, would have the effect of extending slavery. he denied that this was intended, or that this effect would follow.
i trust i understand, and truly estimate the right of self-government. my faith in the proposition that each man should do precisely as he pleases with all which is exclusively his own, lies at the foundation of the sense of justice there is in me. i extend the principles to communities of men, as well as to individuals. i so extend it, because it is politically wise, as well as naturally just; politically wise, in saving us from broils about matters which do not concern us. here, or at washington, i would not trouble myself with the oyster laws of virginia, or the cranberry laws of indiana.
our republican robe is soiled, and trailed in the dust. let us repurify it. let us turn and wash it white, in the spirit, if not the blood, of the revolution. let us turn slavery from its claims of "moral right," back upon its existing legal rights, and its arguments of "necessity." let us return it to the position our fathers gave it; and there let it rest in peace. let us re-adopt the declaration of independence, and with it, the practices, and policy, which harmonize with it. let north and south---let all americans---let all lovers of liberty everywhere---join in the great and good work. if we do this, we shall not only have saved the union; but we shall have so saved it, as to make, and to keep it, forever worthy of the saving. we shall have so saved it, that the succeeding millions of free happy people, the world over, shall rise up, and call us blessed, to the latest generations.
i am also aware they have not, as yet, in terms, demanded the overthrow of our free-state constitutions. yet those constitutions declare the wrong of slavery, with more solemn emphasis, than do all other sayings against it; and when all these other sayings shall have been silenced, the overthrow of these constitutions will be demanded, and nothing be left to resist the demand. it is nothing to the contrary, that they do not demand the whole of this just now. demanding what they do, and for the reason they do, they can voluntarily stop nowhere short of this consummation. holding, as they do, that slavery is morally right, and socially elevating, they cannot cease to demand a full national recognition of it, as a legal right, and a social blessing.
in 1798, they prohibited the bringing of slaves from africa, into the mississippi territory---this territory then comprising what are now the states of mississippi and alabama. this was ten years before they had the authority to do the same thing as to the states existing at the adoption of the constitution.
i have done with this mighty argument, of self-government. go, sacred thing! go in peace.
now, as ever, i wish to not misrepresent judge doulgas' position, question his motives, or do aught that can be personally offensive to him.
with malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as god gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan - to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.
now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. we are met on a great battlefield of that war. we have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. it is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
i particularly object to the new position which the avowed principle of this nebraska law gives to slavery in the body politic. i object to it because it assumes that there can be moral right in the enslaving of one man by another. i object to it as a dangerous dalliance for a few [free?] people---a sad evidence that, feeling prosperity we forget right---that liberty, as a principle, we have ceased to revere. i object to it because the fathers of the republic eschewed, and rejected it. the argument of "necessity" was the only argument they ever admitted in favor of slavery; and so far, and so far only as it carried them, did they ever go. they found the institution existing among us, which they could not help; and they cast blame upon the british king for having permitted its introduction. before the constitution, they prohibited its introduction into the north-western territory---the only country we owned, then free from it. at the framing and adoption of the constitution, they forbore to so much as mention the word "slave" or "slavery" in the whole instrument. in the provision for the recovery of fugitives, the slave is spoken of as a "person held to service or labor." in that prohibiting the abolition of the african slave trade for twenty years, that trade is spoken of as "the migration or importation of such persons as any of the states now existing, shall think proper to admit," &c. these are the only provisions alluding to slavery. thus, the thing is hid away, in the constitution, just as an afflicted man hides away a wen or a cancer, which he dares not cut out at once, lest he bleed to death; with the promise, nevertheless, that the cutting may begin at the end of a given time. less than this our fathers could not do; and now [more?] they would not do. necessity drove them so far, and farther, they would not go. but this is not all. the earliest congress, under the constitution, took the same view of slavery. they hedged and hemmed it in to the narrowest limits of necessity.
let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
but how can we best do it?
again, is not nebraska, while a territory, a part of us? do we not own the country? and if we surrender the control of it, do we not surrender the right of self-government? it is part of ourselves. if you say we shall not control it because it is only part, the same is true of every other part; and when all the parts are gone, what has become of the whole? what is then left of us? what use for the general government, when there is nothing left for it [to] govern?
but the principle of the nebraska bill abolished slavery in several of the old states. well, it is true that several of the old states, in the last quarter of the last century, did adopt systems of gradual emancipation, by which the institution has finally become extinct within their limits; but it may or may not be true that the principle of the nebraska bill was the cause that led to the adoption of these measures. it is now more than fifty years, since the last of these states adopted its system of emancipation. if nebraska bill is the real author of these benevolent works, it is rather deplorable, that he has, for so long a time, ceased working all together. is there not some reason to suspect that it was the principle of the revolution, and not the principle of nebraska bill, that led to emancipation in these old states? leave it to the people of those old emancipating states, and i am quite sure they will decide, that neither that, nor any other good thing, ever did, or ever will come of nebraska bill.
and yet again; there are in the united states and territories, including the district of columbia, 433,643 free blacks. at $500 per head they are worth over two hundred millions of dollars. how comes this vast amount of property to be running about without owners? we do not see free horses or free cattle running at large. how is this? all these free blacks are the descendants of slaves, or have been slaves themselves, and they would be slaves now, but for something which has operated on their white owners, inducing them, at vast pecuniary sacrifices, to liberate them. what is that something? is there any mistaking it? in all these cases it is your sense of justice, and human sympathy, continually telling you, that the poor negro has some natural right to himself---that those who deny it, and make mere merchandise of him, deserve kickings, contempt and death.
the arguments by which the repeal of the missouri compromise is sought to be justified, are these:
but you will break up the union rather than submit to a denial of your constitutional rights.
in 1803 they passed a law in aid of one or two state laws, in restraint of the internal slave trade.
this is the origin of the far-famed 'wilmot proviso.' it created a great flutter; but it stuck like wax, was voted into the bill, and the bill passed with it through the house. the senate, however, adjourned without final action on it and so both appropriation and proviso were lost, for the time. the war continued, and at the next session, the president renewed his request for the appropriation, enlarging the amount, i think, to three million. again came the proviso; and defeated the measure. congress adjourned again, and the war went on. in dec., 1847, the new congress assembled. i was in the lower house that term. the "wilmot proviso" or the principle of it, was constantly coming up in some shape or other, and i think i may venture to say i voted for it at least forty times; during the short term i was there. the senate, however, held it in check, and it never became law. in the spring of 1848 a treaty of peace was made with mexico; by which we obtained that portion of her country which now constitutes the territories of new mexico and utah, and the now state of california. by this treaty the wilmot proviso was defeated, as so far as it was intended to be, a condition of the acquisition of territory. its friends however, were still determined to find some way to restrain slavery from getting into the new country. this new acquisition lay directly west of our old purchase from france, and extended west to the pacific ocean---and was so situated that if the missouri line should be extended straight west, the new country would be divided by such extended line, leaving some north and some south of it. on judge douglas' motion a bill, or provision of a bill, passed the senate to so extend the missouri line. the proviso men in the house, including myself, voted it down, because by implication, it gave up the southern part to slavery, while we were bent on having it all free.
so let us begin anew--remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. let us never negotiate out of fear. but let us never fear to negotiate.
the doctrine of self government is right---absolutely and eternally right---but it has no just application, as here attempted. or perhaps i should rather say that whether it has such just application depends upon whether a negro is not or is a man. if he is not a man, why in that case, he who is a man may, as a matter of self-government, do just as he pleases with him. but if the negro is a man, is it not to that extent, a total destruction of self-government, to say that he too shall not govern himself? when the white man governs himself that is self-government; but when he governs himself, and also governs another man, that is more than self-government---that is despotism. if the negro is a man, why then my ancient faith teaches me that "all men are created equal;" and that there can be no moral right in connection with one man's making a slave of another.
and well may he cling to that principle. if he has any parental feeling, well may he cling to it. that principle, is the only shred left of his original nebraska doctrine. under the dred scott decision, "squatter sovereignty" squatted out of existence, tumbled down like temporary scaffolding - like the mold at the foundry served through one blast and fell back into loose sand - helped to carry an election, and then was kicked to the winds. his late joint struggle with the republicans, against the lecompton constitution, involves nothing of the original nebraska doctrine. that struggle was made on a point, the right of a people to make their own constitution, upon which he and the republicans have never differed.
we observe today not a victory of party but a celebration of freedom--symbolizing an end as well as a beginning--signifying renewal as well as change. for i have sworn before you and almighty god the same solemn oath our forbears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
in 1819-20, came and passed the missouri question. many votes were taken, by yeas and nays, in both branches of congress, upon the various phases of the general question. two of the "thirty-nine" - rufus king and charles pinckney - were members of that congress. mr. king steadily voted for slavery prohibition and against all compromises, while mr. pinckney as steadily voted against slavery prohibition and against all compromises. by this, mr. king showed that, in his understanding, no line dividing local from federal authority, nor anything in the constitution, was violated by congress prohibiting slavery in federal territory; while mr. pinckney, by his votes, showed that, in his understanding, there was some sufficient reason for opposing such prohibition in that case.
but now it is to be transformed into a "sacred right." nebraska brings it forth, places it on the high road to extension and perpetuity; and, with a pat on its back, says to it, "go, and god speed you." henceforth it is to be the chief jewel of the nation---the very figure-head of the ship of state. little by little, but steadily as man's march to the grave, we have been giving up the old for the new faith. near eighty years ago we began by declaring that all men are created equal; but now from that beginning we have run down to the other declaration, that for some men to enslave others is a "sacred right of self-government." these principles can not stand together. they are as opposite as god and mammon; and whoever holds to the one, must despise the other. when pettit, in connection with his support of the nebraska bill, called the declaration of independence "a self-evident lie" he only did what consistency and candor require all other nebraska men to do. of the forty odd nebraska senators who sat present and heard him, no one rebuked him. nor am i apprized that any nebraska newspaper, or any nebraska orator, in the whole nation, has ever yet rebuked him. if this had been said among marion's men, southerners though they were, what would have become of the man who said it? if this had been said to the men who captured andre, the man who said it, would probably have been hung sooner than andre was. if it had been said in old independence hall, seventy-eight years ago, the very door-keeper would have throttled the man, and thrust him into the street.
"a house divided against itself cannot stand."
i also wish to be no less than national in all the positions i may take; and whenever i take ground which others have thought, or may think, narrow, sectional and dangerous to the union, i hope to give a reason, which will appear sufficient, at least to some, why i think differently.
let us now inquire whether the "thirty-nine," or any of them, ever acted upon this question; and if they did, how they acted upon it - how they expressed that better understanding?
when they remind us of their constitutional rights, i acknowledge them, not grudgingly, but fully, and fairly; and i would give them any legislation for the reclaiming of their fugitives, which should not, in its stringency, be more likely to carry a free man into slavery, than our ordinary criminal laws are to hang an innocent one.
let any one who doubts, carefully contemplate that now almost complete legal combination - piece of machinery so to speak- compounded of the nebraska doctrine, and the dred scott decision. let him consider not only what work the machinery is adapted to do, and how well adapted; but also, let him study the history of its construction, and trace, if he can, or rather fail, if he can, to trace the evidences of design and concert of action, among its chief bosses, from the beginning.
i will not re-open the argument upon this point. that such was the intention, the world believed at the start, and will continue to believe. this was the countenance of the thing; and, both friends and enemies, instantly recognized it as such. that countenance can not now be changed by argument. you can as easily argue the color out of the negroes' skin. like the "bloody hand" you may wash it, and wash it, the red witness of guilt still sticks, and stares horribly at you.
that future use is to be the planting of slavery wherever in the wide world, local and unorganized opposition can not prevent it. now if you wish to give them this endorsement---if you wish to establish this principle---do so. i shall regret it; but it is your right. on the contrary if you are opposed to the principle---intend to give it no such endorsement---let no wheedling, no sophistry, divert you from throwing a direct vote against it.
it should not be overlooked that, by the nebraska bill, the people of state as well as territory, were to be left "perfectly free" "subject only to the constitution."
the several points of the dred scott decision, in connection with senator douglas' "care not" policy, constitute the piece of machinery, in its present state of advancement.
it is an aggravation, rather, of the only one thing which ever endangers the union. when it came upon us, all was peace and quiet. the nation was looking to the forming of new bonds of union; and a long course of peace and prosperity seemed to lie before us. in the whole range of possibility, there scarcely appears to me to have been any thing, out of which the slavery agitation could have been revived, except the very project of repealing the missouri compromise. every inch of territory we owned, already had a definite settlement of the slavery question, and by which, all parties were pledged to abide. indeed, there was no uninhabited country on the continent, which we could acquire; if we except some extreme northern regions, which are wholly out of the question. in this state of case, the genius of discord himself, could scarcely have invented a way of again getting [setting?] us by the ears, but by turning back and destroying the peace measures of the past. the councils of that genius seem to have prevailed, the missouri compromise was repealed; and here we are, in the midst of a new slavery agitation, such, i think, as we have never seen before.
we did this under the single impulse of resistance to a common danger, with every external circumstance against us.
this point is made in order to deprive the negro, in every possible event, of the benefit of that provision of the united states constitution, which declares that -
this is the repeal of the missouri compromise. the foregoing history may not be precisely accurate in every particular; but i am sure it is sufficiently so, for all the uses i shall attempt to make of it, and in it, we have before us, the chief material enabling us to correctly judge whether the repeal of the missouri compromise is right or wrong.
i conclude then, that the public never demanded the repeal of the missouri compromise.
can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, north and south, east and west, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? will you join in that historic effort?
to those people in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required--not because the communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. if a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
this necessity had not been overlooked; but had been provided for, as well as might be, in the notable argument of "squatter sovereignty," otherwise called "sacred right of self government," which latter phrase, though expressive of the only rightful basis of any government, was so perverted in this attempted use of it as to amount to just this: that if any one man, choose to enslave another, no third man shall be allowed to object.
thirdly, that whether the holding a negro in actual slavery in a free state, makes him free, as against the holder, the united states courts will not decide, but will leave to be decided by the courts of any slave state the negro may be forced into by the master.
finally, the judge invokes against me, the memory of clay and of webster. they were great men; and men of great deeds. but where have i assailed them? for what is it, that their life-long enemy, shall now make profit, by assuming to defend them against me, their life-long friend? i go against the repeal of the missouri compromise; did they ever go for it? they went for the compromise of 1850; did i ever go against them? they were greatly devoted to the union; to the small measure of my ability, was i ever less so? clay and webster were dead before this question arose; by what authority shall our senator say they would espouse his side of it, if alive? mr. clay was the leading spirit in making the missouri compromise; is it very credible that if now alive, he would take the lead in the breaking of it? the truth is that some support from whigs is now a necessity with the judge, and for thus it is, that the names of clay and webster are now invoked. his old friends have deserted him in such numbers as to leave too few to live by. he came to his own, and his own received him not, and lo! he turns unto the gentiles.
why was the amendment, expressly declaring the right of the people to exclude slavery, voted down? plainly enough now, the adoption of it, would have spoiled the nitch for the dred scott decision.
in 1789, by the first congress which sat under the constitution, an act was passed to enforce the ordinance of '87, including the prohibition of slavery in the northwestern territory. the bill for this act was reported by one of the "thirty-nine," thomas fitzsimmons, then a member of the house of representatives from pennsylvania. it went through all its stages without a word of opposition, and finally passed both branches without yeas and nays, which is equivalent to a unanimous passage. in this congress there were sixteen of the thirty-nine fathers who framed the original constitution. they were john langdon, nicholas gilman, wm. s. johnson, roger sherman, robert morris, thos. fitzsimmons, william few, abraham baldwin, rufus king, william paterson, george clymer, richard bassett, george read, pierce butler, daniel carroll, james madison.
it is surely safe to assume that the thirty-nine framers of the original constitution, and the seventy-six members of the congress which framed the amendments thereto, taken together, do certainly include those who may be fairly called "our fathers who framed the government under which we live." and so assuming, i defy any man to show that any one of them ever, in his whole life, declared that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the constitution, forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. i go a step further. i defy any one to show that any living man in the whole world ever did, prior to the beginning of the present century, (and i might almost say prior to the beginning of the last half of the present century,) declare that, in his understanding, any proper division of local from federal authority, or any part of the constitution, forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in the federal territories. to those who now so declare, i give, not only "our fathers who framed the government under which we live," but with them all other living men within the century in which it was framed, among whom to search, and they shall not be able to find the evidence of a single man agreeing with them.
but clearly, he is not now with us-he does not pretend to be-he does not promise to ever be.
they remind us that he is a great man, and that the largest of us are very small ones. let this be granted. but "a living dog is better than a dead lion." judge douglas, if not a dead lion for this work, is at least a caged and toothless one. how can he oppose the advance of slavery? he don't care anything about it. his avowed mission is impressing the "public heart" to care nothing about it.
when you make these declarations, you have a specific and well-understood allusion to an assumed constitutional right of yours, to take slaves into the federal territories, and to hold them there as property. but no such right is specifically written in the constitution. that instrument is literally silent about any such right. we, on the contrary, deny that such a right has any existence in the constitution, even by implication.
i am quite aware they do not state their case precisely in this way. most of them would probably say to us, "let us alone, do nothing to us, and say what you please about slavery." but we do let them alone - have never disturbed them - so that, after all, it is what we say, which dissatisfies them. they will continue to accuse us of doing, until we cease saying.
in 1803, the federal government purchased the louisiana country. our former territorial acquisitions came from certain of our own states; but this louisiana country was acquired from a foreign nation. in 1804, congress gave a territorial organization to that part of it which now constitutes the state of louisiana. new orleans, lying within that part, was an old and comparatively large city. there were other considerable towns and settlements, and slavery was extensively and thoroughly intermingled with the people. congress did not, in the territorial act, prohibit slavery; but they did interfere with it - take control of it - in a more marked and extensive way than they did in the case of mississippi. the substance of the provision therein made, in relation to slaves, was:
to our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge--to convert our good words into good deeds--in a new alliance for progress--to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. but this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the americas. and let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
no great while after the adoption of the original constitution, north carolina ceded to the federal government the country now constituting the state of tennessee; and a few years later georgia ceded that which now constitutes the states of mississippi and alabama. in both deeds of cession it was made a condition by the ceding states that the federal government should not prohibit slavery in the ceded territory. besides this, slavery was then actually in the ceded country. under these circumstances, congress, on taking charge of these countries, did not absolutely prohibit slavery within them. but they did interfere with it - take control of it - even there, to a certain extent. in 1798, congress organized the territory of mississippi. in the act of organization, they prohibited the bringing of slaves into the territory, from any place without the united states, by fine, and giving freedom to slaves so bought. this act passed both branches of congress without yeas and nays. in that congress were three of the "thirty-nine" who framed the original constitution. they were john langdon, george read and abraham baldwin. they all, probably, voted for it. certainly they would have placed their opposition to it upon record, if, in their understanding, any line dividing local from federal authority, or anything in the constitution, properly forbade the federal government to control as to slavery in federal territory.
"fools rush in where angels fear to tread."
who were our fathers that framed the constitution? i suppose the "thirty-nine" who signed the original instrument may be fairly called our fathers who framed that part of the present government. it is almost exactly true to say they framed it, and it is altogether true to say they fairly represented the opinion and sentiment of the whole nation at that time. their names, being familiar to nearly all, and accessible to quite all, need not now be repeated.
in the course of my main argument, judge douglas interrupted me to say, that the principle [of] the nebraska bill was very old; that it originated when god made man and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to choose for himself, being responsible for the choice he should make. at the time i thought this was merely playful; and i answered it accordingly. but in his reply to me he renewed it, as a serious argument. in seriousness then, the facts of this proposition are not true as stated. god did not place good and evil before man, telling him to make his choice. on the contrary, he did tell him there was one tree, of the fruit of which, he should not eat, upon pain of certain death. i should scarcely wish so strong a prohibition against slavery in nebraska.
whether slavery shall go into nebraska, or other new territories, is not a matter of exclusive concern to the people who may go there. the whole nation is interested that the best use shall be made of these territories. we want them for the homes of free white people. this they cannot be, to any considerable extent, if slavery shall be planted within them. slave states are places for poor white people to remove from; not to remove to. new free states are the places for poor people to go to and better their condition. for this use, the nation needs these territories.
my friends - no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. to this place, and the kindness of these people, i owe every thing. here i have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. here my children have been born, and one is buried. i now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, i may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon washington. without the assistance of that divine being, who ever attended him, i cannot succeed. with that assistance, i cannot fail. trusting in him, who can go with me, and remain with you and be every where for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. to his care commending you, as i hope in your prayers you will commend me, i bid you an affectionate farewell.
some men, mostly whigs, who condemn the repeal of the missouri compromise, nevertheless hesitate to go for its restoration, lest they be thrown in company with the abolitionist. will they allow me as an old whig to tell them good humoredly, that i think this is very silly? stand with anybody that stands right. stand with him while he is right and part with him when he goes wrong. stand with the abolitionist in restoring the missouri compromise; and stand against him when he attempts to repeal the fugitive slave law. in the latter case you stand with the southern disunionist. what of that? you are still right. in both cases you are right. in both cases you oppose [expose?] the dangerous extremes. in both you stand on middle ground and hold the ship level and steady. in both you are national and nothing less than national. this is good old whig ground. to desert such ground, because of any company, is to be less than a whig---less than a man---less than an american.
but it is said, there now is no law in nebraska on the subject of slavery; and that, in such case, taking a slave there, operates his freedom. that is good book-law; but is not the rule of actual practice. wherever slavery is, it has been first introduced without law. the oldest laws we find concerning it, are not laws introducing it; but regulating it, as an already existing thing. a white man takes his slave to nebraska now; who will inform the negro that he is free? who will take him before court to test the question of his freedom? in ignorance of his legal emancipation, he is kept chopping, splitting and plowing. others are brought, and move on in the same track. at last, if ever the time for voting comes, on the question of slavery, the institution already in fact exists in the country, and cannot well be removed. the facts of its presence, and the difficulty of its removal will carry the vote in its favor. keep it out until a vote is taken, and a vote in favor of it, can not be got in any population of forty thousand, on earth, who have been drawn together by the ordinary motives of emigration and settlement. to get slaves into the country simultaneously with the whites, in the incipient stages of settlement, is the precise stake played for, and won in this nebraska measure.
why the outgoing president's felicitation on the indorsement? why the delay of a reargument? why the incoming president's advance exhortation in favor of the decision?
slave insurrections are no more common now than they were before the republican party was organized. what induced the southampton insurrection, twenty-eight years ago, in which, at least three times as many lives were lost as at harper's ferry? you can scarcely stretch your very elastic fancy to the conclusion that southampton was "got up by black republicanism." in the present state of things in the united states, i do not think a general, or even a very extensive slave insurrection is possible. the indispensable concert of action cannot be attained. the slaves have no means of rapid communication; nor can incendiary freemen, black or white, supply it. the explosive materials are everywhere in parcels; but there neither are, nor can be supplied, the indispensable connecting trains.
some of you delight to flaunt in our faces the warning against sectional parties given by washington in his farewell address. less than eight years before washington gave that warning, he had, as president of the united states, approved and signed an act of congress, enforcing the prohibition of slavery in the northwestern territory, which act embodied the policy of the government upon that subject up to and at the very moment he penned that warning; and about one year after he penned it, he wrote lafayette that he considered that prohibition a wise measure, expressing in the same connection his hope that we should at some time have a confederacy of free states.
i wish further to say, that i do not propose to question the patriotism, or to assail the motives of any man, or class of men; but rather to strictly confine myself to the naked merits of the question.
the question recurs, what will satisfy them? simply this: we must not only let them alone, but we must somehow, convince them that we do let them alone. this, we know by experience, is no easy task. we have been so trying to convince them from the very beginning of our organization, but with no success. in all our platforms and speeches we have constantly protested our purpose to let them alone; but this has had no tendency to convince them. alike unavailing to convince them, is the fact that they have never detected a man of us in any attempt to disturb them.
in his speech last autumn, at columbus, ohio, as reported in "the new-york times," senator douglas said:
whenever, if ever, he and we can come together on principle so that our great cause may have assistance from his great ability, i hope to have interposed no adventitious obstacle.