THE GRATEFUL DEAD AND THE WATER OF LIFE OR KINDRED THEMES.
The maerchen known in its various forms as The Water of Life [164]
is based on the myth which goes by the same name. [165] The myth,
as has been shown quite independently by two recent investigators,
Dr. Wuensche [166] and Dr. E. W. Hopkins, [167] is of Semitic origin,
and is found among the traditions of the Assyrio-Babylonian cycle. It
is to be distinguished from the very similar myth of The Fountain of
Youth, which apparently originated in India. [168] The latter concerns
the magic properties of the "water of rejuvenation"; the former in
its uncontaminated form, at least, deals with water which cures,
revivifies, or revitalizes. The two have been frequently confused,
not only in popular tradition of all ages, but in critical writings of
contemporary date as well. It is the great merit of Professor Hopkins'
article, to which reference has been made, that their essential
difference in origin and character is clearly marked. Though he makes
no pretence that his study of The Fountain of Youth is definitive,
he has broken ground which sadly needed the plough, and incidentally
has thrown light upon The Water of Life.
The myth which is properly known by this name is intimately connected
in origin and development with that of The Tree of Life, [169]
which finds expression in the legends of the Cross. In the words of
Dr. Wuensche: [170] "Wie wir aus den kosmogonischen und theogonischen
Mythen und Sagen der Voelker das Rauschen des Lebensbaumes vernehmen,
durch dessen Fruechte sich Goetter und Menschen ihre ungeschwaechte
Lebenskraft und ewige Jugendfrische erhalten, so nicht minder das
Sprudeln einer Quelle des Lebenswassers, die Leben schafft und
zu Ende gehendes oder bereits erloschenes Leben wieder zu neuem
Sein erweckt." Both myths are Semitic, and both have profoundly
influenced Christian doctrine. It is with the "water of life,"
however, that we are immediately concerned, and with that only as it
has found embodiment in a widely disseminated and variously modified
tale. Whence this maerchen came we must presently inquire, in order
to reach some conclusion as to the point in space and time where it
joined The Grateful Dead, but we must first fix its essential traits.
Owing to the complex variations which the tale presents in its
various combinations with really foreign themes, there is great
difficulty in getting at the outline of the original story or even
the characteristics common to all the known variants. To do this
satisfactorily would require a searching and detailed study, which
it is impossible to undertake here,--an examination with The Water
of Life as the point of attack. It is possible, however, to arrive
at a rough sketch of the theme.
"Dans tous ces contes," says Cosquin, in his notes on The Water of
Life, [171] "trois princes vont chercher pour leur pere l'eau de la
vie ou un fruit merveilleux qui doit le guerir, et c'est le plus
jeune qui reussit dans cette entreprise. Dans plusieurs ... les
deux aines font des dettes, et ils sont au moment d'etre pendus,
quand leur frere paie les creanciers (dans des contes allemands et
dans les contes autrichiens, malgre l'avis que lui avait donne un
hermite, un nain ou des animaux reconaissants, de ne pas acheter de
'gibier de potence'). Il est tue par eux ou, dans un conte allemand
(Meier, no. 5), jete dans un grand trou; mais ensuite il est rappele
a la vie dans des circonstances qu'il serait trop long d'expliquer."
Dr. Wuensche's summary is somewhat different: [172] "Gewoehnlich handelt
es sich um einen Koenig und seine drei Soehne. Der Koenig leidet an einer
schlimmen Krankheit, von der ihn kein Arzt zu heilen vermag. Da wird
ihm durch irgendeine Gelegenheit die Kunde, dass er von seinem Siechtum
durch das Lebenswasser eines fernen Landes befreit werden koenne. Aus
Liebe zu ihrem Vater machen sich die drei Soehne nacheinander auf den
Weg, das Lebenswasser zu holen. Doch die beiden aeltesten erliegen
den auf dem Wege ihnen begegnenden Versuchungen, nur der juengste
ist wegen seiner Standhaftigkeit und Bescheidenheit so gluecklich,
es zu erhalten. Ein Riese, ein Zwerg, ein alter Mann oder ein alte
Frau sind ihm zur Auffindung der Wunderquelle behilflich, indem sie
ihm guten Rat erteilen und ihm sagen, wie er es anzufangen und wovor
er sich in acht zu nehmen habe. Hier und da greifen auch dienstbare
Tiere, Vierfuessler, Voegel und Fische hilfreich ein, indem sie dem
Juenglinge genau die Oertlichkeit des Wassers angeben, oder auch selbst
ihn mit Schnelligkeit dahin bringen. Die Lebensquelle sprudelt in
einem Berge, der sich nur zu gewissen Zeiten, gewoehnlich gegen Mittag
oder Mitternacht von 11-12 Uhr oeffnet. Im berge steht in der Regel
in einem praechtigen Garten ein versunkenes Schloss, das die grossen
Schaetze und Kostbarkeiten birgt, durch deren Anblick der Eintretende
geblendet wird. In einem Gemache des Schlosses wieder ruht auf einem
Bett eine Jungfrau von wunderbarer Schoenheit, die spaeter als Prinzessin
hervortritt und den Prinzen, der durch das Schoepfen des Lebenswassers
sie von ihrem Zauber geloest hat, zum Gemahle heischt. Der Prinz hat
nur kurze Zeit bei ihr geruht oder ihr einen fluechtigen Kuss auf die
Lippen gedrueckt. In vielen Faellen wird der Eingang zur Quelle von
einem Drachen oder einem anderen Ungeheuer bewacht, die erst aus dem
Wege geraeumt werden muessen. Es kostet einen schweren Kampf. Auf dem
Heimweg trifft der juengste Koenigssohn gewoehnlich mit seinen aelteren
Bruedern wieder zusammen, die ihr Leben durch tolle Streiche verwirkt
haben und die er vom Tode loskauft. Zuweilen sind aber die Brueder
durch ihre Unbedachtsamkeit in schwarze Steine verwandelt worden und
liegen am Abhange des Zauberberges, oder stehen als Marmorsaeulen
auf demselben, oder sind infolge ihres Hochmutes in einen tiefen
Abgrund eingeschlossen. Auch in diesem Zustande werden sie durch den
juengsten Bruder bald durch das geschoepfte Wasser des Lebens, bald auf
seine Bitten hin wieder ins Leben gerufen. Vereint reisen sie nun mit
ihrem Bruder nach Hause zum Koenige. Unterwegs aber erfasst die Beiden
Falschen Neid und Missgunst, weil ihr Bruder allein in den Besitz
des Lebenswasser gelangt ist und sie sich vergeblich darum gemueht
haben. Daher vertauschen sie das Lebenswasser, waehrend der Bruder
schlaeft, mit gewoehnlichem Wasser und eilen nun voraus und machen mit
dem erbeuteten Trank den kranken Koenig gesund, oder sie erscheinen
nach der Ankunft des Bruders, dessen vertauschtes Wasser den Koenig nur
noch elender gemacht hat. Dabei raunen sie dem Koenige heimlich ins Ohr,
dass der juengere Bruder ihn habe vergiften wollen, infolgedessen dieser
vom Koenige verbannt oder gar zum Tode verurteilt wird. Derselbe lebt
nun laengere Zeit zurueckgezogen in einer untergeordneten Stellung,
bis endlich durch die von ihm entzauberte Prinzessin seine Unschuld
an den Tag kommt."
Dr. Wuensche gives as subsidiary types stories where a princess
wishes the magic water for herself, and, when her two brothers fail
to return with it, goes on a quest which results in obtaining the
water and releasing the enchanted brothers; where a mother and son
are the chief actors; where a bird, or fruit, or the water of death
is substituted for the water of life; and where thankful beasts
appear. All of these elements and more appear in the accessible
variants, yet not all of them can be said rightly to represent The
Water of Life as such. The basal traits of the story are much more
simple than Dr. Wuensche would have us believe. They do not include,
for example, the wonderful companions whom the hero finds nor the
adventures with the enchanted princess, since these are in reality
traits of originally separate themes, as will presently be shown. [173]
On the other hand, Cosquin's outline seems to me defective in two
ways. First, he does not recognize that there existed in the original
theme some reward due the hero for his constancy and intelligence in
the pursuit of his quest. A priori this conclusion would be expected
from the general manner of folk-tales, and as a matter of fact it
appears in all the versions which have come to my attention. The reward
almost always takes the form of a princess, though the manner in which
she is won varies very greatly. In the second place, Cosquin seems to
regard The Golden Bird as a theme quite independent of The Water of
Life. [174] This, I think, is to lose sight of the essential likeness
between the two tales, despite their difference of introduction. As
Dr. Wuensche notes, [175] not only a bird, but a fruit or the water of
death may be substituted for the usual object of the quest. Indeed,
certain variants have more than one of these magical forces. [176]
To be sure, this superfluity of riches doubtless results from the
fusion of subsidiary types, but none the less it points to the original
unity of the central theme, which is all that I wish to suggest.
From this discussion we emerge with an outline of The Water of Life in
something like the following form: A sick king has three sons, who go
out to seek some magical water (or bird, or fruit) for his healing. The
two older sons fall by the way into some misfortune due to their own
fault; but the youngest, not without aid of one sort or another from
beings with supernatural powers, succeeds in the quest and at the
same time wins a princess as wife. While returning, he rescues his
brothers, and is exposed by their envy and ingratitude to the loss of
all he has gained (sometimes even of his life). In the end, however,
he comes to his own either because the cure cannot be completed
without him or because his wife brings the older princes to book.
This summary I should be unwilling to have considered as anything more
than a tentative sketch, since a systematic study of the material
may bring to light certain features which I have overlooked. [177]
It will, however, serve its purpose here.
This simple form of The Water of Life is not that with which The
Grateful Dead has combined. Indeed, the opinion that this union was
secondary to that of The Grateful Dead with The Poison Maiden and
The Ransomed Woman [178] is strengthened by the fact that it is found
with both of these compound types, and that The Water of Life almost
invariably appears in a somewhat distorted form. In point of fact,
the latter tale seems to have lent itself with remarkable facility
to combination with other themes. Thus it is frequently found mixed
with The Skilful Companions [179] (both with and without The Grateful
Dead), The Lady and the Monster, [180] and The Thankful Beasts.
The reason for the existence of the compounds just mentioned is
not far to seek. With The Skilful Companions [181] there is a ready
point of contact in the hero's need for aid in the accomplishment of
his quest, another in the circumstance that three or more companions
set out together with a common end in view, and still another in the
fact that a maiden is rescued by them. To The Lady and the Monster,
at least in those variants where The Grateful Dead appears, The Water
of Life has the necessary approach in the role of the lady herself. As
for The Thankful Beasts, their appearance at opportune moments when
the heroes of folk-tales need assistance is too frequent to require
justification in any particular case. It is with such combinations
as these, intricate and involved, that many variants of The Grateful
Dead are found joined. Sometimes one element, sometimes another,
predominates, so that the threads which unite them are hopelessly
snarled. Sometimes The Water of Life is lost in the entanglement,
or only appears as a distorted trait, while The Skilful Companions
or The Lady and the Monster come out more clearly. Through this
labyrinth we must painfully take our way, exercising what caution
we can. The present guide recognizes the danger of losing the road
and does not pretend to more than a rough and ready knowledge of the
wilderness. Accordingly, he undertakes only to conduct the curious
wayfarer by the least difficult of the paths that traverse it.
Let us first consider the tales into which The Poison Maiden and The
Ransomed Woman do not enter, which have only The Grateful Dead + The
Water of Life or some kindred theme. These include Maltese, Polish,
Hungarian I., Rumanian II., Straparola II., Venetian, Sicilian,
Treu Heinrich, and Harz II. They are as widely different in their
characteristics as in their sources.
Maltese has the following form: The three sons of a king successively
go out in search of a bird, the song of which will make their father
young. The elder two lose their all by gambling with a maiden in a
palace by the way. The youngest brother pays four thousand pounds
sterling to bury properly a man who has been dead eight months. He
is warned against the maiden by a ghost, and so wins all from her (by
using his own cards), thus rescuing his brothers. When he comes to the
castle, the ghost again appears, and tells him to take the bird that
he finds in a dirty cage. On the way back he is thrown overboard from
the steamboat by his brothers, but is saved by the ghost, who appears
in the form of a rock with a tree on it. He is rescued by another
steamer, and comes home in rags, where he is recognized by the bird,
which has hitherto refused to sing. The brothers are banished.
According to the Polish story, a poor scholar pays his all for the
burial of a corpse lying maltreated by the way. Later he goes to
sleep under an oak, and on awaking finds his purse full of gold. He is
robbed of this while crossing a stream, by some scoundrels who cast
him into the water; but he is rescued by the ghost of the dead man,
who appears in the form of a plank and gives him the power of turning
himself into a crow, a hare, or a deer. He becomes a huntsman to a
king, whose daughter lives on an inaccessible island. In her castle
is a sword with which a man could overcome the greatest army. When
war threatens, the king offers the princess to any man who can obtain
the sword. By means of his power of metamorphosis the hero carries
her a letter and wins her love. When he exhibits his magical powers,
she cuts off a bit of the fur, or a feather, from each creature into
which he turns. With the sword he then starts back to court, but on
the way he is shot by a rival and robbed of the sword and a letter
from the princess. He lies in the way in the form of a dead hare
till the war is ended and the rival is about to marry the princess,
when he is revived and warned by the ghost. At court he is recognized
by the princess, who proves his tale by having him turn into various
shapes and fitting the samples which she has taken.
In Hungarian I. a soldier gave all he had to an old beggar, who in
turn gave him the power to change at will into a dove, a fish, or a
hare. He took service with a king, and one day was sent back to the
castle for a magic ring. There he met the princess, and exhibited to
her his powers of metamorphosis, permitting her to pull two feathers,
take eight scales, and cut off his tail. While running back to the king
in the form of a hare, he was shot by an envious comrade, who took the
ring and was rewarded. The hero was restored to life by the old beggar,
and returned to the castle, where he was brought to the princess. She
succeeded in proving the truth of his story by means of the feathers,
the scales, and the tail, which she had so fortunately preserved.
Rumanian II., though changed into legendary form, does not differ
greatly from the two variants just cited. A shepherd boy gave his
one sheep to Christ, when He asked for food. In return, he received
a knife with three blades. Later he took service with a man, with
whom he entered the army of the emperor. One day the monarch found
that he had forgotten his ring, and promised half his kingdom to
anybody who could bring it to him from the palace within twenty-four
hours. By means of his magical knife the hero changed into a hare,
obtained the emperor's ring as well as one from the princess's own
hand, and returned to the army. There he was met by his master, who
plundered him, threw him into a spring, and went to the emperor for
reward. When the battle was over and all had returned to the capital,
the princess said that the man who was presented as her bridegroom
was not he to whom she gave the ring. Meanwhile, Christ had rescued
the hero from the spring and sent him to the palace in the form of
a fox with his ring in a basket. The princess recognized from the
token that he was her true bridegroom, and brought him to the emperor.
Straparola II. introduces certain new elements to our notice. A king's
son releases a wild man, whom his father has incarcerated, in order to
get back an arrow that the man has taken from him. The man is really
a disappointed lover, who had given himself up to a savage life. The
boy's mother, in fear of the king, sends him away in the care of
two faithful servants, with whom he lives in obscurity till he is
sixteen years old. Covetous of his wealth, they are about to kill him,
when the wild man, transformed into a splendid knight by a grateful
fairy, joins them. They go to a beautiful city called Ireland, which
is devastated by a ferocious horse and an equally savage mare. The
traitorous servants plot to destroy the prince by giving out, first,
that he has boasted that he can overcome the horse, and, second,
the mare. By the advice of his unknown friend and the help of the
latter's fairy horse, he accomplishes these labours. He is told by
the king that he may have one of his daughters in marriage, if he
can tell which has hair of gold. He is told by his companion that a
hornet, which he has released, will appear at the test and fly three
times around the head of the princess whom he is to choose. The man
explains at the same time the cause of his benevolence,--gratitude
because by him he has been delivered from death. The prince is thus
enabled to pick out the princess with golden hair, and is married to
her, while his companion receives the sister.
In the Venetian tale, again a peculiar variant, twelve brothers
seek twelve sisters as wives. Eleven of them go out at first, and
are turned to stone. The youngest brother sets out after a year, and
on the way has a poor dead man buried. Later, when he has saved his
eleven brothers, they become envious, and throw him into a well. The
thankful dead man then comes, draws him out with a cord, and explains
who he is. The hero proceeds to his home and tells his story.
Sicilian is more extended but less difficult to place. The three
orphaned sons of a rich man try to win the daughter of a certain
king, who has announced that he will marry the princess to anyone
who can make a ship that will travel alike on land and water. The
eldest and middle brothers are unsuccessful because they are unkind
to the poor who ask for work. The youngest brother gives work to both
old and young, and, when an old man (St. Joseph) appears, makes him
overseer. After the work is done, he agrees to give half of what he
obtains to the old man, and goes with him in the ship to court. On
the way he takes in a man who is found putting clouds in a sack,
another who is bearing half a forest on his back, another who has
drunk half a stream, another who is aiming his bow at a quail in
the underworld, and another who stands with one foot at Catania and
the other at Messina. At the court the king refuses to give up his
daughter till the hero can send a message to the underworld and get
an answer in an hour, which he does by means of the long-strider
and the shooter; and till he can find a man who will drink half
the contents of his cellar in one day, which the drinker easily
accomplishes. The king then offers as dowry only what one man can
carry away, but he is foiled by the man who bore half the forest on
his back, who now takes all the contents of the palace and departs
with the hero, the princess, and their companions. The king pursues
them, but is befogged by the man with the clouds. When they arrive
at home, the saint demands his half, even of the king's daughter;
but when the hero takes his sword to divide her, he cries out that
he merely wished to test his faithfulness.
In Treu Heinrich a noble youth lost his property through prodigality
in tournaments. Finally he sold his all to enter a tourney for the
hand of the daughter of the King of Cyprus, but he gave half to his
faithful follower Heinrich. After they set out for Cyprus, they were
joined by a knight, who shared the hero's hospitality for fourteen
days, agreeing to do the same in return, but at last riding away. In
destitution they arrived at Famagust in Cyprus. While Heinrich was in
the city, the hero found a clear stone left by a bird, through which
he obtained power to become a bird. He then established himself in
the city, met the princess with the result that they fell in love,
and flew to her chamber as a bird. He obtained from her not only his
desire but an ornament which he gave to the strange knight, who had
again joined him. Later he overcame this knight in the tourney, but
the latter was mistaken for himself. Again he flew to the princess,
who gave him a crown, and again, after giving it to the stranger,
he overcame him in a fight. The princess now gave him a helmet,
which he kept; and he was proclaimed victor of the jousting. Once
more he flew to the princess, and obtained from her an ornament for
his helmet, made by herself. Thus he won her as wife.
In Harz II. our primary motive is far less obscure than in the version
just summarized. A youth pays his all, thirty-eight dollars, to free a
dead man from indebtedness. He goes his way, and meets a young fellow,
who accompanies him. They fall in with a man bearing two trees, a man
with a hat on one side, a man with a wooden leg, and a man with a blind
eye. The six go together to a city, where the princess can be won only
by performing feats, with the penalty of death attached to failure. The
companions aid the hero by bringing water from a distant spring and
by keeping a fiery furnace habitable, so that he wins the princess.
These nine variants are, it will be seen, related in very different
degrees to The Grateful Dead. What a debased type of the maerchen they
represent is shown by the fact that in no less than five [182] the
burial of the corpse, which is the most fundamental trait of the theme,
has been lost. Yet for two reasons it is clear that they are really
scions of the stock. In the first place, wherever the burial has been
cut away, other elements of the motive in its simple form have been
retained. Thus in Hungarian I. and Rumanian II. the deeds of the old
beggar (or Christ) make his identity with the ghost unquestionable;
in Straparola II., despite its sophistication, the wild man fills the
same role, while his explanations at the end show that the burial
has been merely blurred; in Sicilian both the agreement to divide
and the division of the woman as a test are introduced; and in Treu
Heinrich there is double division in a way, since the hero divides
his property with his faithful follower to begin with and afterwards
agrees to an exchange of hospitality with the helpful knight, going
so far as actually to give him two of the four gifts received from
the princess. In the second place, certain variants without the
burial are very closely allied with others which retain it, [183]
as will be seen in a moment. Thus all those treated here may safely
be admitted to the group.
The reader must, however, have been struck, while examining the
summaries just given, with the great diversity of the residuum which
would be left if the parts properly belonging to The Grateful Dead
were taken away. Indeed, they may be separated on this score into
four categories with a couple of minor divisions. Polish, Hungarian
I., and Rumanian II. are very similar in respect to these matters,
having a princess who is won by the feat of obtaining something left
at home by her father (this feat made possible by the power given
the hero to change his form) and a treacherous rival. Polish has the
peculiarity that the article to be obtained by the hero is a magical
sword. [184] Treu Heinrich stands a little apart from these, since
the rival does not appear and the princess is won by a tourney; yet it
has the curious metamorphosis, and must be considered as having some
connection. Maltese and Venetian fall together. Venetian has retained
from The Water of Life only the misfortune and the treachery of the
older brothers, [185] while Maltese keeps also the magical bird
and the features naturally connected therewith. The introduction
of two steamboats in the latter is a curious illustration of the
ease with which popular tales change details without altering
essentials. Sicilian and Harz II. again are alike, both being
compounded with The Skilful Companions, [186] and making the winning
of the princess depend on feats really accomplished by the helpers
characteristic to that tale. Straparola II. must be placed alone,
having nearly all trace of The Water of Life lost in the traits of
The Lady and the Monster, with a princess won by the hero's happily
directed choice. [187]
All of these features will appear again when we come to discuss
variants which combine the compound types The Grateful Dead + The
Poison Maiden or The Ransomed Woman with The Water of Life. They may,
therefore, be passed over for the present, together with the question
as to whether such a simple combination as The Grateful Dead + The
Water of Life may be regarded as being the original from which the
more complicated types have sprung. It is sufficient for the moment
to recognize the tendency of the simpler variants to fall into groups
on the basis of the residuum left by subtracting traits belonging to
The Grateful Dead.
Let us now consider the tales where a thankful beast plays the part
of the grateful dead through at least a portion of the narrative,
and where there is still no trace of either The Poison Maiden or The
Ransomed Woman. The change of beast for ghost is so obvious and easy
that the separation of these variants from the preceding appears at
first sight to be of merely formal use. Yet thus considered, they may
serve to define the sub-divisions already noticed. Nine such versions
have come to my knowledge: Walewein, Lotharingian, Tuscan, Brazilian,
Basque I., Breton IV., V., and VI., and Simrock IX. All but one are
folk-tales, and that, curiously enough, an episode in a thirteenth
century [188] Dutch romance translated from the French. [189]
Walewein, the variant in question, has the following form: Walewein
(or more familiarly Gawain) sets forth from Arthur's court to secure
a magical chessboard. He is promised it by King Wonder if only he
will get the sword of rings from King Amoris, who in turn will give
that up if Walewein will bring him the princess of the Garden of
India. On this quest the hero mortally wounds a certain Red Knight,
who prays him for Christian burial and is properly interred. He then
proceeds to the castle of King Assentin, whose daughter recognizes
in him the ideal knight whom she has seen in a dream. He is led
under the dark river which surrounds the castle by the Fox Roges,
and wins the princess. The lovers and the fox (a prince transformed)
escape by the help of the Red Knight's ghost. After many adventures
they come together to the court with a chessboard, which is given up
by King Wonder in exchange for the sword. Walewein is able to keep
the princess for his own because of the death of Amoris.
Lotharingian runs as follows: A king has three sons. He sends them
successively to seek the water of life. Two of them refuse to help a
shepherd on the way, and rest from their search in Pekin. The third,
who is deformed, aids the shepherd, and receives from him some arrows,
which will pierce well whatever they strike, and a flageolet, which
will make everyone dance within hearing of it. Arrived at Pekin, the
humpback pays the debts of a corpse, and has it buried. He goes on till
his money is exhausted. When he is about to shoot a fox one day, he is
stayed by pity, and is directed by the creature to the castle where
the water of life is to be found. There he is detained by an ogre,
and wins battles for him by the aid of the magical arrows. There
is a princess in the castle, who refuses to marry the ogre. The
hero makes her dance, and obtains from the ogre as recompense the
promise of whatever he wishes. He asks for the most beautiful thing
there and the right to circle the castle three times. So he takes
the princess, a phial of the water of life, as well as the uglier of
the two mules and of the two green birds, as the fox has told him,
and flees away. He meets the fox again, and is warned not to help
any one in trouble. Nevertheless, he rescues his two brothers from
the scaffold in Pekin, and is cast into a well by them. They go home,
but are not able to heal the king. Meanwhile, the prince is saved by
the fox, and is made straight of body. He goes home, and at his coming
the king becomes young again, while the brothers are burned. So the
prince marries the lady.
In Tuscan we learn that the youngest of three princes, while wandering,
paid the debts of a man whose corpse was being insulted. When he had
buried the man, he found himself without a farthing, and so slept in
the forest. In the morning he was greeted by a hare (lieprina) with
a basket of food in its mouth. He took this gladly, and reflected
that the creature must be the soul of the man whom he had buried. He
then came to an inn, and took service with the host, whose beautiful
daughter he soon discovered to be a princess, who had been bought while
an infant. After winning her love, the hero went on into two kingdoms,
where he obtained a magical purse and a wonderful horse from two ugly
daughters of innkeepers. With these possessions he returned to the
princess, and started with her for his home. On the way he saved from
death his two older brothers, who had gone out to seek adventures at
the same time as himself. They repaid the kindness by trying to drown
him and by carrying the princess off home, where only by feigning
illness could she frustrate their plan that she choose one of them as
husband. Meanwhile, the hero was rescued from drowning by the hare,
and came home. By pretending to be a physician he obtained access to
the princess, was recognized, and then revealed himself to his father.
The Brazilian tale is brief but not unusual in type. A prince, while
seeking a remedy for his father, passes through a town and sees a
corpse, which is held for debt. He pays the creditors, and has the
corpse buried. Later he is met by a fox, which helps him obtain not
only the remedy for his father but in addition a princess as his
wife. On its last appearance the beast declares that it is the soul
of the man whom he buried.
Basque I. has the following form: Three sons go out to seek a white
blackbird by which their father can be healed. Two of them get into
debt to the same three ladies, and, according to the custom of the
land, are imprisoned. The third son resists the sirens, ransoms
his brothers, and also pays the debts of a dead man, whose corpse
is being maltreated. He arrives at the house of the king who has the
white blackbird, and is told to get a certain young woman from another
king. He goes far on till he comes near the castle, where he meets a
fox and is instructed by it to enter a certain room, in which he will
find the lady dressed in poor clothing. He must have her put on good
clothes, and she will sing. He follows the advice, but is interrupted,
while the lady is singing, by the king of the castle, who tells him
that he must get a white horse from still another king. He meets the
fox again, and is instructed that, when he finds the horse with an old
saddle on it, he must put on a good one, so that it will neigh. Again
he follows the fox's advice, and is interrupted by people who rush in
when they hear the horse neigh. From them he obtains the steed, and
retraces his steps, eloping with the lady at the second king's castle
and at the first king's carrying off the blackbird. On his arrival
at home he is thrown into a cistern by his treacherous brothers,
who take his spoil to the king. He is saved by the fox, however,
which draws him out with its tail. When he comes into the presence
of his father, and not till then, is the healing accomplished.
In Breton IV. we find again three sons of a king, who set forth to get
the white blackbird and also the lady with locks of gold. Jeannot, the
youngest of them, pays for the interment of a beggar on the way. Later
a fox comes to him, saying that it is the soul of the poor man. It
helps him procure the youth-giving blackbird and afterward the lady
with the marvellous hair. He then meets his brothers, who for envy push
him over a precipice, but he is saved and sent homeward by the fox.
Breton V. does not differ materially from the preceding, though it
has interesting minor variations. The three sons of a king seek the
bird Dredaine in its golden cage in order to cure their father. The
two elder brothers go to England, and there meet jolly companions,
but find no trace of the bird. The third brother, the ugly one, comes
thither, is mocked and robbed by them, but goes his way. One night
he lodges in a forest hut, and there finds a man's body, which the
widow cannot bury for lack of money to pay the priest. He is now poor,
but pays for the interment of the corpse, and proceeds. He is followed
by a white fox, which instructs him how to achieve his quest. He soon
reaches the castle, traverses three courts, comes to one chamber where
he finds a piece of inexhaustible bread, enters a second where he
gets an unfailing pot of wine and makes love to a sleeping princess,
and goes on to a third where he finds a magical sword and the bird. He
hastens away with his booty, guided for a time by the fox, sells his
bread and his wine to innkeepers on condition that they be given up to
the princess if ever she comes for them, and arrives at the city where
his brothers are now in prison. He ransoms them by helping the king,
and pays their debts by selling his sword. On their way home he is
thrown into a well by his brothers, who take the bird to their father,
but do not succeed in curing him. Meanwhile, the hero is saved by the
fox, which now explains that it is the soul of the man whom he has
buried, and definitely disappears. He arrives at his home as a beggar,
and takes service with his father. Later the princess comes thither
with the son that is the fruit of their union, and brings with her
the bread, wine, and sword which she has found on the way. The bird
sings, the king is healed, and the wicked brothers are executed.
Breton VI. lacks some of the interesting traits of the variant just
given, but embroiders the theme with considerable grace. The three sons
of a king set out to find the princess of Hungary, who has the only
remedy that will cure their father. The eldest forgets his purpose, and
wastes his money in rioting. The second finds him just as he is being
led to death on account of debt, ransoms him, and shares his riotous
pleasures. The third brother, a humpback, goes out with little money,
but on his way procures burial for a man's corpse, which the widow has
been unable to do because of lack of money to pay the priest. The next
day a fox with a white tail meets him, and in return for a bit of cake
leads him to the castle of a princess. There the prince resists the
lady's advances, which he suspects are derisive, and is sent to her
sister's castle, where he has the same experience. When he arrives
at the castle of the third sister, he yields to her proposals,
is given the remedy for his father and a magical sword, and is
told how to go home. On the way he rescues his brothers from the
scaffold by waving his sword, and is robbed and thrown into a well
by them. Thence he is rescued by the fox, which comes at his call,
and before it disappears explains that it is the ghost. Meanwhile, the
older brothers have cured the king by the water of life in a phial;
so when the hero comes home he is not believed. In a year and a day
the princess arrives there according to her promise, and with a little
son. At a feast she proclaims the truth, cuts her husband into bits,
sprinkles the heap of fragments with the water of life, and marries
the handsome youth who at once arises--the humpback transformed. [190]
According to Simrock IX., finally, the three sons of a king seek
the bird phoenix to cure their blind father. The two elder enter the
castle of a beautiful maiden, and are lost; but the youngest resists
the temptation, and takes lodging at an inn. There at night he is
startled by a ghost, which tells him that it is the spirit of a man
whom the host has buried in the cellar for non-payment of a score,
and which implores his help. The youth arranges for payment of the
debt and for proper burial, then goes his way. In the wood he meets a
wolf, which instructs him how to find the bird phoenix in a cage in the
magical castle, and carries him thither. Because he fails to take the
worse-looking bird according to instructions, he has to get a steed
as swift as wind for the lord of the castle. Again he is disobedient
when told to take the worst-looking horse only, and so has to get the
most beautiful woman in the world for the lord of this castle. Again
he is brought by the wolf to a castle, where he obediently chooses a
black maiden instead of one who is apparently beautiful. With maiden,
horse, and bird he turns home. The wolf in parting from him explains
that it is the ghost of the dead man, and warns him not to buy gallows
flesh. When he meets his brothers on their way to be hanged, however,
he forgets this, and ransoms them. In return he is nearly murdered
by them and left for dead, but is rescued and healed by the wolf,
and so at last reaches his destination.
In none of these nine stories is the burial of the dead, one of
the two most fundamental features of our leading motive, in any way
obscured. They are thus less difficult to treat than was the preceding
group, in spite of the added complications introduced by the advent
of the helpful animal. This creature should naturally take the role
of the ghost, appear as the embodiment of the dead man's soul indeed;
and with but two exceptions [191] it actually fulfils the part. In
those two there has been, apparently, imperfect amalgamation, so that
the helper is duplicated, and the motivation obscured. In Walewein,
a literary version, consciously adapted to the requirements of a
roman d'aventure, this need excite no wonder. The ghost does its
part properly, and the fox is merely an additional agency in the
service of the hero, acting out of pure kindness of heart [192]
as far as one can see. Lotharingian, not contented with duplicating
the trait, triplicates it. The fox, as in the ordinary form of The
Thankful Beasts, helps the hero because of a benefit received; the
shepherd bestows magical gifts, as in a common type of The Water of
Life, because of the hero's kindness; while the dead debtor remains
inactive after the burial, and plays no further part in the narrative.
As for The Water of Life, there are fewer complications in this
group than in that where the thankful beast does not appear. In all
of the variants some of the fundamental traits of the theme remain
intact. In all save Walewein and Brazilian (which is a degenerate
form presumably carried across the sea by Spaniards or Portuguese)
the three brothers set out from home in quite the normal way. Walewein
again lacks the water of life, which Brazilian retains. All the other
versions, save Tuscan, keep this water or replace it by some other
restorative agency. Two variants only fail to make the older brothers
act treacherously towards the hero, these being again Walewein and
Brazilian. The former thus lacks three of the essentials of the theme,
the latter two. Yet since Walewein makes the hero win his princess
by going on from adventure to adventure quite in the normal manner,
and since Brazilian makes him obtain both water of life and princess,
though with loss of interesting details, we are surely justified in
placing both in this category.
It is worth our while to note in this connection that all these nine
variants come from southern Europe, directly or by derivation. [193]
Geographical proximity, though not sufficient in itself as a basis of
classification, adds welcome confirmation to other proof in cases like
this, where a small group of highly complicated tales is found to exist
in neighbouring countries only. That Walewein can be connected with
this specialized sub-division has important bearings on the question
whence the material for that romance was taken. In view of the limited
territory which this form of the story has covered as a folk-tale
in six hundred years, and the fact that France would be the centre
of the region, it seems fair to assume that some thirteenth century
French writer took a maerchen of his own land as the basis for his work,
thus elaborating with native material the adventures of a Celtic hero.
The question now arises as to what light the group just considered
throws upon the variants which combine the simple theme of The Grateful
Dead with The Water of Life or some such motive. It appeared, the
reader will remember, that according to the elements foreign to the
main motive they must be separated into four classes. Reference to
these classes [194] will show that the variants with The Thankful
Beasts are in many respects different from any one of them as far
as the features peculiar to The Water of Life, or kindred themes,
are concerned. Yet because Maltese and the brief Venetian, though
otherwise transformed, are the only tales aside from these [195] that
preserve the treachery of the hero's brothers, it is safe to class
them together. Both Maltese and Venetian come, it will be observed,
from the same general region as all the other members of the group.
Since the elements left by subtracting The Grateful Dead from the
variants of the four categories thus discovered are very diverse,
we cannot postulate a parent form from which all four classes might
have sprung. Indeed, the evidence thus far obtained all points to a
separate combination of already developed themes with The Grateful
Dead. The test of this will be found in an examination of those
variants of those larger compounds, which have also traces of The
Water of Life or some allied motive.
Turning first to such versions of the combination The Grateful Dead
+ The Poison Maiden, we find eleven on our list, all of which have
already been summarized and discussed in connection with the simple
compound. [196] These are Esthonian II., Rumanian I., Irish I., Irish
II., Irish III., Danish III., Norwegian II., Simrock X., Harz I., Jack
the Giant-Killer, and Old Wives' Tale. Since we know definitely that
Danish III. (the tale by Christian Andersen) was taken from Norwegian
II., it may be left out of account. Ten variants thus remain to be
studied with reference to the subsidiary elements.
In Esthonian II. the hero releases a princess, who goes with devils
every night to church, by watching in the church for three nights
with three, six, and twelve candles on successive nights. In Rumanian
I. the hero wins a princess by explaining why she wears out twelve
pairs of slippers every night; and he accomplishes this by the aid
of his helper, who follows the lady in the form of a cat, and picks
up the handkerchief, spoon, and ring which she drops in the house of
the dragons. According to Irish I. the helper obtains for the hero
horses of gold and silver, a sword of light, a cloak of darkness,
and a pair of slippery shoes; he helps him keep over night a comb
and a pair of scissors, in spite of enchantment, and finally gets the
lips of the giant enchanter, so that the hero unspells and wins the
lady of his quest. In Irish II. the hero is joined by a green man
(the grateful dead), a gunner, a listener, a blower, and a strong
man. By the aid of the first he gives his princess a pair of scissors,
a comb, and the enchanter's head; by the aid of the others he obtains
water from the well of the western world, and is enabled to walk over
three miles of needles. Irish III. has a helper who obtains for the
hero a sword, a cloak of darkness, and swift shoes, rescues a pair
of scissors, and obtains the enchanter's head, while the hero wins
a race by the aid of the shoes. According to Norwegian II. the hero
and helper get a sword, a ball of yarn, and a hat, while the latter
follows the princess and rescues a pair of scissors and a ball,
finally obtaining the troll's head. In Simrock X. the helper secures
three rods, a sword, and a pair of wings, follows the princess, and
learns how to answer her riddles, emphasizing his knowledge by getting
the wizard's head. Harz I. has the helper give wings and a rod to the
hero, who flies with the princess and learns to guess her riddles,
cutting off the monster's head. In Jack the Giant-Killer Jack obtains
gold, a coat and cap, a sword, and a pair of slippers for his master,
follows the princess, and secures the handkerchief and the demon's
head, which are requisite to the unspelling. Finally, according to
Old Wives' Tale, the helper, while invisible, slays the conjuror,
and so obtains the princess for his master.
It will at once be recognized that all of these variants are of one
type as far as the traits just specified are concerned. The basal
element is the hero's success in winning an enchanted princess either
by accomplishing difficult feats or answering riddles. The water of
life, as such, appears in only one story, Irish II., and there not
as the prime goal of the hero's quest, but merely as the object of
a subsidiary labour. Clearly these tales not only form a group by
themselves, but have in combination with The Grateful Dead and The
Poison Maiden a theme which is not properly The Water of Life. This
theme is as clearly The Lady and the Monster, [197] which is closely
allied to The Water of Life, but is essentially distinct. It has
already been found compounded with the simple form of The Grateful
Dead in the somewhat degenerate and literary Straparola II., [198]
though the method by which the enchanted princess was won in that
variant was different from that given in the present group.
Within the group there are minor differences with reference to the
manner of unspelling the princess, which resolve themselves either, on
the one hand, into the hero's keeping or obtaining something for her,
or, on the other, into his guessing the object of her thoughts. These
details are not, however, of much importance for the purpose in hand,
though they might become so if an attempt were made to sub-divide the
group. Thus Esthonian II. is decidedly unusual in its treatment of
the matter just mentioned. Irish I. has traces of the Sword of Light
[199] and of The Two Friends. [200] In Harz I. the hero himself follows
the princess instead of leaving the actual work of unspelling to the
helper, as is elsewhere the case. Irish II., finally, is peculiar not
only in bringing in The Water of Life, as mentioned above, but also
the motive of The Skilful Companions, which we have already met with
in Sicilian and Harz II. [201]
Irish II. is, indeed, of great importance to our study at this
point. It is in some way a link between Sicilian and Harz II. and the
subdivision now under discussion. Furthermore, the fact that Straparola
II. has some traits of The Lady and the Monster in common with all the
members of the group under consideration shows that it can safely be
placed in the same category as Sicilian and Harz II. Though the feats
by which the princess is won are somewhat different in the last-named
variants from the feats in Straparola II. on the one hand and in the
compound The Grateful Dead + The Poison Maiden + The Water of Life
(The Lady and the Monster) on the other, there can be little doubt,
it seems to me, that all of them belong together. Irish II. by the
introduction of The Skilful Companions thus furnishes a clue by which
the tales having the compound just mentioned may be classed with two
varieties of the simple combination, and permits us to reduce the
total number of categories with reference to The Water of Life from
four to three.
Before proceeding to a general discussion of the means by which this
theme was brought into connection with The Grateful Dead and the
comparative date of the combination or series of combinations, it is
necessary to examine four other versions,--those which have the form
The Grateful Dead + The Ransomed Woman + The Water of Life. Like the
group just treated, all of them have been summarized and discussed
with reference to the prime features of the compound. [202] They are
Bohemian, Simrock I., Simrock III., and Simrock VII.
The elements of these variants, apart from those due to the main
compound, are as follows. In Bohemian the hero is given a flute
and a captive princess by his helper, and escapes with them from
prison. Later he is cast into the sea by a rival, but is rescued by
the helper and given a wishing ring. By means of this ring he turns
first into an eagle and afterwards into an old man, and succeeds in
winning the princess by building and painting a church. In Simrock
I. the hero is rescued by the helper after being cast overboard by
a rival, and is given the power of obtaining his wishes. Thereby he
paints three rooms to the liking of the princess, and is recognized
by her. Simrock III. differs from this only in making the helper
do the painting and in having one room painted instead of three. In
Simrock VII., finally, the hero releases a princess by hewing trees,
separating grain, and choosing his mistress among three hundred women,
all without aid. Later he is rescued from the sea and recognized by
means of a ring and a handkerchief.
The first three of these variants clearly show in the subsidiary
elements just enumerated their relationship to The Water of Life. They
lack the quest for some magical fountain or bird, to be sure, but they
preserve the quest for the lady, which is an important factor in the
maerchen. Of the three, Bohemian has the most extended and probably
the best presentation of the details of the difficult courtship;
and it gives the hero that power of metamorphosis which was noted
in four variants of the type The Grateful Dead + The Water of Life
simply. It may, therefore, on the basis of general and particular
resemblance be classed with Polish, Hungarian I., Rumanian II., and
Treu Heinrich. [203] Along with it, of course, go the briefer Simrock
I. and Simrock III. There is this important difference between the
two sets of tales, that in the simpler form the princess is won by
the hero's success in bringing something from a distance, in the more
complicated form by building and decorating. Yet the resemblance is
sufficient to warrant the classification proposed.
With Simrock VII. the case is altogether different. There the
subsidiary elements are connected with The Lady and the Monster rather
than The Water of Life proper, yet not with that theme as it appears in
combination with The Poison Maiden, [204] since in that group the hero
disenchants the princess by guessing some secret, here by performing
two feats of prowess or discrimination and by choosing the proper
lady from a host of maidens. With Straparola II., however, which has
the simpler combination The Grateful Dead + The Lady and the Monster,
the resemblance is very close, [205] as both have the happily directed
choice. The complicated Simrock VII. thus falls into the same category
with reference to this matter as Straparola II., Sicilian, and Harz
II., and the group having the form The Grateful Dead + The Poison
Maiden + The Water of Life (The Lady and the Monster specifically).
A summary of our three categories will be of service in discussing
their relations to one another and to the themes with which The Water
of Life or The Lady and the Monster are combined.
Class I.
Polish.
Hungarian I.
Rumanian II.
Treu Heinrich.
Bohemian. |
Simrock I. + (With The Ransomed Woman.)
Simrock III. |
Class II.
Sicilian.
Harz II.
Straparola II.
All recorded variants with The Poison Maiden.
Simrock VII. (With The Ransomed Woman.)
Class III.
Maltese.
Venetian.
All variants with The Thankful Beasts.
Class I. forms a territorially homogeneous group, all the members
of it coming from eastern and central Europe. It is not altogether
homogeneous in content, but preserves the theme of The Water of
Life proper in a form where the hero wins a princess by means, among
other feats, of metamorphosis. Class II. is the most widespread of
all territorially, as its members come from all parts of Europe. It
has instead of The Water of Life proper what must be regarded, in the
present state of the evidence, as the closely allied theme of The Lady
and the Monster. Class III., the most compact of all in the region
that it inhabits, preserves The Water of Life better than any other
group, though not without frequent admixture and, in many instances,
the loss of some elements.
It has been stated above [206] that it would be hard to imagine such
various traits coming from a single type of story. This becomes
even more evident from the tabulation just made. To suppose that
The Grateful Dead first united with The Water of Life, and that this
compound gave rise to the varieties, as enumerated, would involve us in
the direst confusion. If such were the case, how could Class II. with
its introduction of The Lady and the Monster be explained? Why,
moreover, should one variant having The Ransomed Woman fall into
Class II., while three others fall into Class I.? Such an assumption,
it is clear, would be self-destructive.
The only alternative is to suppose that The Water of Life entered
into combination with simple or compound types of The Grateful Dead
at more than one time and in more than one region. That The Grateful
Dead united with The Poison Maiden and The Ransomed Woman rather
early and quite independently abundant evidence goes to show; that
The Water of Life is an independent motive and that, like at least two
of the other themes, it was of Asiatic origin has likewise been made
clear; that the latter could not have united with The Grateful Dead
so early as did The Poison Maiden and The Ransomed Woman is proved
by the discrepancies noted above. If it be assumed, on the contrary,
that after the compounds The Grateful Dead + The Poison Maiden and
The Ransomed Woman had arisen, both they and the simple theme in one
or another form came into connection with one or another form of The
Water of Life our difficulties are in great measure resolved.
With this in mind let us consider the three categories. Sometime
before the fourteenth century [207] The Water of Life, perhaps in
a rather peculiar form, came into contact with The Grateful Dead,
both simple and combined with The Ransomed Woman, [208] in eastern or
central Europe. With each form it seems to have united, giving rise
in the century named to the German romance of Treu Heinrich and the
legend of Nicholas by Gobius, as well as, sooner or later, to the
folk-tales with which it has been found combined in those regions
within the past hundred years. The territorial limitation of the
resulting type is a point in the favour of the proposed theory, though
I cannot but be aware that this may be disturbed by a variant outside
the seemingly fixed circle. Yet even so, the relation of the variants
of Class I. to the themes concerned appears to be pretty definitely
established. With Class III. the matter is even simpler. According to
my view, some form of The Grateful Dead, more or less confused with
one of the countless versions of The Thankful Beasts met with a very
clear type of The Water of Life in southern or south-western Europe
by or before the thirteenth century. [209] With this it united and
gave rise to an Old French romance (later turned into Dutch) and to
a considerable body of folk-tales, which have not strayed far from
the point of departure save in one instance, [210] where the means of
transmission is not difficult to ascertain. Apparently the thankful
beast was not absolutely in solution, since in Maltese and Venetian
the human ghost resumes its characteristic role. [211] With Class
II. the case is different and more difficult of explanation. Here
the compound has no definite territorial limits, and it is besides
of a very complicated character. We have to suppose that The Lady
and the Monster, a maerchen allied to The Water of Life, was afloat
in Europe somewhat before the early sixteenth century. [212] There
it met and united with The Grateful Dead, in its simple form on the
one hand, giving rise to three of our variants, and on the other hand
separately with the compounds having The Poison Maiden and The Ransomed
Woman. The former double compound must have been made fairly early,
[213] since it has been found in such widely separated countries as
Rumania and Ireland, and furnished one of the most important elements
to the making of a sixteenth century English play, Peele's Old Wives'
Tale. The second of the double compounds is unfortunately represented
on our list by a single folk-tale only, and may possibly be a later
formation.
Such, then, seems to be the relationship of The Water of Life and
allied motives to the main theme of our study,--purely subsidiary
and relatively late. The theory which has been proposed involves
the necessity of placing the entrance of the Semitic maerchen into
Europe not much earlier than the twelfth century, though such
matters of chronology must be left somewhat to speculation; it
shows the points of contact between the various motives concerned;
and it avoids contradictions of space and time. Writer and reader may
perhaps congratulate themselves on finding so clear a road through the
maze. Should subsequent discovery of material necessitate modification
of the views here expressed, it should be welcomed by both with
equal pleasure.