TATTERHOOD

Once on a time there was a king and a queen who had no children, and

that gave the queen much grief; she scarce had one happy hour. She was

always bewailing and bemoaning herself, and saying how dull and

lonesome it was in the palace.

“If we had children there’d be life enough”, she said.

Wherever she went in all her realm she found God’s blessing in

children, even in the vilest hut; and wherever she came she heard the

Goodies scolding the bairns, and saying how they had done that and that

wrong. All this the queen heard, and thought it would be so nice to do

as other women did. At last the king and queen took into their palace a

stranger lassie to rear up, that they might have her always with them,

to love her if she did well, and scold her if she did wrong, like their

own child.

So one day the little lassie whom they had taken as their own, ran down

into the palace yard, and was playing with a gold apple. Just then an

old beggar wife came by, who had a little girl with her, and it wasn’t

long before the little lassie and the beggar’s bairn were great

friends, and began to play together, and to toss the gold apple about

between them. When the Queen saw this, as she sat at a window in the

palace, she tapped on the pane for her foster-daughter to come up. She

went at once, but the beggar-girl went up too; and as they went into

the Queen’s bower, each held the other by the hand. Then the Queen

began to scold the little lady, and to say:

“You ought to be above running about and playing with a tattered

beggar’s brat.”

And so she wanted to drive the lassie downstairs.

“If the Queen only knew my mother’s power, she’d not drive me out”,

said the little lassie; and when the Queen asked what she meant more

plainly, she told her how her mother could get her children if she

chose. The Queen wouldn’t believe it, but the lassie held her own, and

said every word of it was true, and bade the Queen only to try and make

her mother do it. So the Queen sent the lassie down to fetch up her

mother.

“Do you know what your daughter says?” asked the Queen of the old

woman, as soon as ever she came into the room.

No; the beggar wife knew nothing about it.

“Well, she says you can get me children if you will”, answered the

Queen.

“Queens shouldn’t listen to beggar lassies’ silly stories”, said the

old wife, and strode out of the room.

Then the Queen got angry, and wanted again to drive out the little

lassie; but she declared it was true every word that she had said.

“Let the Queen only give my mother a drop to drink,” said the lassie;

“when she gets merry she’ll soon find out a way to help you.”

The Queen was ready to try this; so the beggar wife was fetched up

again once more, and treated both with wine and mead as much as she

chose; and so it was not long before her tongue began to wag. Then the

Queen came out again with the same question she had asked before.

“One way to help you perhaps I know”, said the beggar wife. “Your

Majesty must make them bring in two pails of water some evening before

you go to bed. In each of them you must wash yourself, and afterwards

throw away the water under the bed. When you look under the bed next

morning, two flowers will have sprung up, one fair and one ugly. The

fair one you must eat, the ugly one you must let stand; but mind you

don’t forget the last.”

That was what the beggar wife said.

Yes; the Queen did what the beggar wife advised her to do; she had the

water brought up in two pails, washed herself in them, and emptied them

under the bed; and lo! when she looked under the bed next morning,

there stood two flowers; one was ugly and foul, and had black leaves;

but the other was so bright, and fair, and lovely, she had never seen

its like; so she ate it up at once. But the pretty flower tasted so

sweet, that she couldn’t help herself. She ate the other up too, for,

she thought, “it can’t hurt or help one much either way, I’ll be

bound”.

Well, sure enough, after a while the Queen was brought to bed. First of

all, she had a girl who had a wooden spoon in her hand, and rode upon a

goat; loathly and ugly she was, and the very moment she came into the

world, she bawled out “Mamma”.

“If I’m your mamma”, said the Queen, “God give me grace to mend my

ways.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry”, said the girl, who rode on the goat, “for one

will soon come after me who is better looking.”

So, after a while, the Queen had another girl, who was so fair and

sweet, no one had ever set eyes on such a lovely child, and with her

you may fancy the Queen was very well pleased. The elder twin they

called “Tatterhood”, because she was always so ugly and ragged, and

because she had a hood which hung about her ears in tatters. The Queen

could scarce bear to look at her, and the nurses tried to shut her up

in a room by herself, but it was all no good; where the younger twin

was, there she must also be, and no one could ever keep them apart.

Well, one Christmas eve, when they were half grown up, there rose such

a frightful noise and clatter in the gallery outside the Queen’s bower.

So Tatterhood asked what it was that dashed and crashed so out in the

passage.

“Oh!” said the Queen, “it isn’t worth asking about.”

But Tatterhood wouldn’t give over till she found out all about it and

so the Queen told her it was a pack of Trolls and witches who had come

there to keep Christmas. So Tatterhood said she’d just go out and drive

them away; and in spite of all they could say, and however much they

begged and prayed her to let the Trolls alone, she must and would go

out to drive the witches off; but she begged the Queen to mind and keep

all the doors close shut, so that not one of them came so much as the

least bit ajar. Having said this, off she went with her wooden spoon,

and began to hunt and sweep away the hags; and all this while there was

such a pother out in the gallery, the like of it was never heard. The

whole Palace creaked and groaned as if every joint and beam were going

to be torn out of its place. Now, how it was, I’m sure I can’t tell;

but somehow or other one door did get the least bit ajar, then her twin

sister just peeped out to see how things were going with Tatterhood,

and put her head a tiny bit through the opening. But, POP! up came an

old witch, and whipped off her head, and stuck a calf’s head on her

shoulders instead; and so the Princess ran back into the room on

all-fours, and began to “moo” like a calf. When Tatterhood came back

and saw her sister, she scolded them all round, and was very angry

because they hadn’t kept better watch, and asked them what they thought

of their heedlessness now, when her sister was turned into a calf.

“But still I’ll see if I can’t set her free”, she said.

Then she asked the King for a ship in full trim, and well fitted with

stores; but captain and sailors she wouldn’t have. No; she would sail

away with her sister all alone; and as there was no holding her back,

at last they let her have her own way.

Then Tatterhood sailed off, and steered her ship right under the land

where the witches dwelt, and when she came to the landing-place, she

told her sister to stay quite still on board the ship; but she herself

rode on her goat up to the witches’ castle. When she got there, one of

the windows in the gallery was open, and there she saw her sister’s

head hung up on the window frame; so she leapt her goat through the

window into the gallery, snapped up the head, and set off with it.

After her came the witches to try to get the head again, and they

flocked about her as thick as a swarm of bees or a nest of ants; but

the goat snorted, and puffed, and butted with his horns, and Tatterhood

beat and banged them about with her wooden spoon; and so the pack of

witches had to give it up. So Tatterhood got back to her ship, took the

calf’s head off her sister, and put her own on again, and then she

became a girl as she had been before. After that she sailed a long,

long way, to a strange king’s realm.

Now the king of that land was a widower, and had an only son. So when

he saw the strange sail, he sent messengers down to the strand to find

out whence it came, and who owned it; but when the king’s men came down

there, they saw never a living soul on board but Tatterhood, and there

she was, riding round and round the deck on her goat at full speed,

till her elf locks streamed again in the wind. The folk from the palace

were all amazed at this sight, and asked, were there not more on board?

Yes, there were; she had a sister with her, said Tatterhood. Her, too,

they wanted to see, but Tatterhood said “No”:

“No one shall see her, unless the king comes himself”, she said; and so

she began to gallop about on her goat till the deck thundered again.

So when the servants got back to the palace, and told what they had

seen and heard down at the ship, the king was for setting out at once,

that he might see the lassie that rode on the goat. When he got down,

Tatterhood led out her sister, and she was so fair and gentle, the king

fell over head and ears in love with her as he stood. He brought them

both back with him to the Palace, and wanted to have the sister for his

queen; but Tatterhood said “No”; the king couldn’t have her in any way,

unless the king’s son chose to have Tatterhood. That you may fancy the

prince was very loath to do, such an ugly hussy as Tatterhood was; but

at last the king and all the others in the palace talked him over, and

he yielded, giving his word to take her for his queen; but it went sore

against the grain, and he was a doleful man.

Now they set about the wedding, both with brewing and baking; and when

all was ready, they were to go to church; but the prince thought it the

weariest churching he had ever had in all his life. First, the king

drove off with his bride, and she was so lovely and so grand, all the

people stopped to look after her all along the road, and they stared at

her till she was out of sight. After them came the prince on horseback

by the side of Tatterhood, who trotted along on her goat with her

wooden spoon in her fist, and to look at him, it was more like going to

a burial than a wedding, and that his own; so sorrowful he seemed, and

with never a word to say.

“Why don’t you talk?” asked Tatterhood, when they had ridden a bit.

“Why, what should I talk about?” answered the prince.

“Well, you might at least ask me why I ride upon this ugly goat”, said

Tatterhood.

“Why do you ride on that ugly goat?” asked the prince.

“Is it an ugly goat? why, it’s the grandest horse bride ever rode on”,

answered Tatterhood; and in a trice the goat became a horse, and that

the finest the prince had ever set eyes on.

Then they rode on again a bit, but the prince was just as woeful as

before, and couldn’t get a word out. So Tatterhood asked him again why

he didn’t talk, and when the Prince answered he didn’t know what to

talk about, she said:

“You can at least ask me why I ride with this ugly spoon in my fist.”

“Why do you ride with that ugly spoon? “asked the prince.

“Is it an ugly spoon? why, it’s the loveliest silver wand bride ever

bore”, said Tatterhood; and in a trice it became a silver wand, so

dazzling bright, the sunbeams glistened from it.

So they rode on another bit, but the Prince was just as sorrowful, and

said never a word. In a little while, Tatterhood asked him again why he

didn’t talk, and bade him ask why she wore that ugly grey hood on her

head.

“Why do you wear that ugly grey hood on your head?” asked the Prince.

“Is it an ugly hood? why, it’s the brightest golden crown bride ever

wore”, answered Tatterhood, and it became a crown on the spot.

Now, they rode on a long while again, and the Prince was so woeful,

that he sat without sound or speech just as before. So his bride asked

him again why he didn’t talk, and bade him ask now, why her face was so

ugly and ashen-grey?

“Ah!” asked the Prince, “why is your face so ugly and ashen-grey?”

“I ugly”, said the bride; “you think my sister pretty, but I am ten

times prettier”; and lo! when the Prince looked at her, she was so

lovely, he thought there never was so lovely a woman in all the world.

After that, I shouldn’t wonder if the Prince found his tongue, and no

longer rode along hanging down his head.

So they drank the bridal cup both deep and long, and, after that, both

Prince and King set out with their brides to the Princess’s father’s

palace, and there they had another bridal feast, and drank anew, both

deep and long. There was no end to the fun; and, if you make haste and

run to the King’s palace, I dare say you’ll find there’s still a drop

of the bridal ale left for you.