Once on a time there was a King who had become a widower. By his Queen
he had one daughter, who was so clever and lovely, there wasn’t a
cleverer or lovelier Princess in all the world. So the King went on a
long time sorrowing for the Queen, whom he had loved so much, but at
last he got weary of living alone, and married another Queen, who was a
widow, and had, too, an only daughter; but this daughter was just as
bad and ugly as the other was kind, and clever, and lovely, The
stepmother and her daughter were jealous of the Princess, because she
was so lovely; but so long as the King was at home, they daredn’t do
her any harm, he was so fond of her.
Well, after a time, he fell into war with another King, and went out to
battle with his host, and then the stepmother thought she might do as
she pleased; and so she both starved and beat the Princess, and was
after her in every hole and corner of the house. At last she thought
everything too good for her, and turned her out to herd cattle. So
there she went about with the cattle, and herded them in the woods and
on the fells. As for food, she got little or none, and she grew thin
and wan, and was always sobbing and sorrowful. Now in the herd there
was a great dun bull, which always kept himself so neat and sleek, and
often and often he came up to the Princess, and let her pat him. So one
day when she sat there, sad, and sobbing, and sorrowful, he came up to
her and asked her outright why she was always in such grief. She
answered nothing, but went on weeping.
“Ah!” said the Bull, “I know all about it quite well, though you won’t
tell me; you weep because the Queen is bad to you, and because she is
ready to starve you to death. But food you’ve no need to fret about,
for in my left ear lies a cloth, and when you take and spread it out,
you may have as many dishes as you please.”
So she did that, took the cloth and spread it out on the grass, and lo!
it served up the nicest dishes one could wish to have; there was wine
too, and mead, and sweet cake. Well, she soon got up her flesh again,
and grew so plump, and rosy, and white, that the Queen and her scrawny
chip of a daughter turned blue and yellow for spite. The Queen couldn’t
at all make out how her stepdaughter got to look so well on such bad
fare, so she told one of her maids to go after her in the wood, and
watch and see how it all was, for she thought some of the servants in
the house must give her food. So the maid went after her, and watched
in the wood, and then she saw how the stepdaughter took the cloth out
of the Bull’s ear, and spread it out, and how it served up the nicest
dishes, which the stepdaughter ate and made good cheer over. All this
the maid told the Queen when she went home.
And now the King came home from war, and had won the fight against the
other king with whom he went out to battle. So there was great joy
throughout the palace, and no one was gladder than the King’s daughter.
But the Queen shammed sick, and took to her bed, and paid the doctor a
great fee to get him to say she could never be well again unless she
had some of the Dun Bull’s flesh to eat. Both the king’s daughter and
the folk in the palace asked the doctor if nothing else would help her,
and prayed hard for the Bull, for every one was fond of him, and they
all said there wasn’t that Bull’s match in all the land. But, no; he
must and should be slaughtered, nothing else would do. When the king’s
daughter heard that, she got very sorrowful, and went down into the
byre to the Bull. There, too, he stood and hung down his head, and
looked so downcast that she began to weep over him.
“What are you weeping for?” asked the Bull.
So she told him how the King had come home again, and how the Queen had
shammed sick and got the doctor to say she could never be well and
sound again unless she got some of the Dun Bull’s flesh to eat, and so
now he was to be slaughtered.
“If they get me killed first”, said the Bull, “they’ll soon take your
life too. Now, if you’re of my mind, we’ll just start off, and go away
to-night.”
Well, the Princess thought it bad, you may be sure, to go and leave her
father, but she thought it still worse to be in the house with the
Queen; and so she gave her word to the Bull to come to him.
At night, when all had gone to bed, the Princess stole down to the byre
to the Bull, and so he took her on his back, and set off from the
homestead as fast as ever he could. And when the folk got up at
cockcrow next morning to slaughter the Bull, why, he was gone; and when
the King got up and asked for his daughter, she was gone too. He sent
out messengers on all sides to hunt for them, and gave them out in all
the parish churches; but there was no one who had caught a glimpse of
them. Meanwhile, the Bull went through many lands with the King’s
daughter on his back, and so one day they came to a great copper-wood,
where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and
everything, were nothing but copper.
But before they went into the wood, the Bull said to the King’s
daughter:
“Now, when we get into this wood, mind you take care not to touch even
a leaf of it, else it’s all over both with me and you, for here dwells
a Troll with three heads who owns this wood.”
No, bless her, she’d be sure to take care not to touch anything. Well,
she was very careful, and leant this way and that to miss the boughs,
and put them gently aside with her hands; but it was such a thick wood,
’twas scarce possible to get through; and so, with all her pains,
somehow or other she tore off a leaf, which she held in her hand.
“AU! AU! what have you done now?” said the Bull; “there’s nothing for
it now but to fight for life or death; but mind you keep the leaf
safe.”
Soon after they got to the end of the wood, and a Troll with three
heads came running up:
“Who is this that touches my wood?” said the Troll.
“It’s just as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.
“Ah!” roared the Troll, “we’ll try a fall about that.”
“As you choose”, said the Bull.
So they rushed at one another, and fought; and the Bull he butted, and
gored, and kicked with all his might and main; but the Troll gave him
as good as he brought, and it lasted the whole day before the Bull got
the mastery; and then he was so full of wounds, and so worn out, he
could scarce lift a leg. Then they were forced to stay there a day to
rest, and then the Bull bade the King’s daughter to take the horn of
ointment which hung at the Troll’s belt, and rub him with it. Then he
came to himself again, and the day after they trudged on again. So they
travelled many, many days, until, after a long long time, they came to
a silver wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and
flowers, and everything, were silvern.
Before the Bull went into the wood, he said to the King’s daughter:
“Now, when we get into this wood, for heaven’s sake mind you take good
care; you mustn’t touch anything, and not pluck off so much as one
leaf, else it is all over both with me and you; for here is a Troll
with six heads who owns it, and him I don’t think I should be able to
master.”
“No”, said the King’s daughter; “I’ll take good care and not touch
anything you don’t wish me to touch.”
But when they got into the wood, it was so close and thick, they could
scarce get along. She was as careful as careful could be, and leant to
this side and that to miss the boughs, and put them on one side with
her hands, but every minute the branches struck her across the eyes,
and in spite of all her pains, it so happened she tore off a leaf.
“AU! AU! what have you done now?” said the Bull. “There’s nothing for
it now but to fight for life and death, for this Troll has six heads,
and is twice as strong as the other, but mind you keep the leaf safe,
and don’t lose it.”
Just as he said that, up came the Troll:
“Who is this”, he said, “that touches my wood?”
“It’s as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.
“That we’ll try a fall about”, roared the Troll.
“As you choose”, said the Bull, and rushed at the Troll, and gored out
his eyes, and drove his horns right through his body, so that the
entrails gushed out; but the Troll was almost a match for him, and it
lasted three whole days before the Bull got the life gored out of him.
But then he, too, was so weak and wretched, it was as much as he could
do to stir a limb, and so full of wounds, that the blood streamed from
him. So he said to the King’s daughter she must take the horn of
ointment that hung at the Troll’s belt, and rub him with it. Then she
did that, and he came to himself; but they were forced to stay there a
week to rest before the Bull had strength enough to go on.
At last they set off again, but the Bull was still poorly, and they
went rather slowly at first. So, to spare time, the King’s daughter
said, as she was young and light of foot, she could very well walk, but
she couldn’t get leave to do that. No; she must seat herself up on his
back again. So on they travelled through many lands a long time, and
the King’s daughter did not know in the least whither they went; but
after a long, long time they came to a gold wood. It was so grand, the
gold dropped from every twig, and all the trees, and boughs, and
flowers, and leaves, were of pure gold. Here, too, the same thing
happened as had happened in the silver wood and copper wood. The Bull
told the King’s daughter she mustn’t touch it for anything, for there
was a Troll with nine heads who owned it, and he was much bigger and
stouter than both the others put together; and he didn’t think he could
get the better of him. No; she’d be sure to take heed not to touch it;
that he might know very well. But when they got into the wood, it was
far thicker and closer than the silver wood, and the deeper they went
into it, the worse it got. The wood went on, getting thicker and
thicker, and closer and closer; and at last she thought there was no
way at all to get through it. She was in such an awful fright of
plucking off anything, that she sat, and twisted, and turned herself
this way and that, and hither and thither, to keep clear of the boughs,
and she put them on one side with her hands; but every moment the
branches struck her across the eyes, so that she couldn’t see what she
was clutching at; and lo! before she knew how it came about, she had a
gold apple in her hand. Then she was so bitterly sorry, she burst into
tears, and wanted to throw it away; but the Bull said, she must keep it
safe and watch it well, and comforted her as well as he could; but he
thought it would be a hard tussle, and he doubted how it would go.
Just then up came the Troll with the nine heads, and he was so ugly,
the King’s daughter scarcely dared to look at him.
“WHO IS THIS THAT TOUCHES MY WOOD?” he roared.
“It’s just as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.
“That we’ll try a fall about”, roared the Troll again.
“Just as you choose”, said the Bull; and so they rushed at one another,
and fought, and it was such a dreadful sight, the King’s daughter was
ready to swoon away. The Bull gored out the Troll’s eyes, and drove his
horns through and through his body, till the entrails came tumbling
out; but the Troll fought bravely; and when the Bull got one head gored
to death, the rest breathed life into it again, and so it lasted a
whole week before the Bull was able to get the life out of them all.
But then he was utterly worn out and wretched. He couldn’t stir a foot,
and his body was all one wound. He couldn’t so much as ask the King’s
daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the Troll’s belt,
and rub it over him. But she did it all the same, and then he came to
himself by little and little; but they had to lie there and rest three
weeks before he was fit to go on again.
Then they set off at a snail’s pace, for the Bull said they had still a
little further to go, and so they crossed over many high hills and
thick woods. So after awhile they got upon the fells.
“Do you see anything?” asked the Bull.
“No, I see nothing but the sky, and the wild fell”, said the King’s
daughter.
So when they clomb higher up, the fell got smoother, and they could see
further off.
“Do you see anything now?” asked the Bull.
“Yes, I see a little castle far, far away”, said the Princess.
“That’s not so little though”, said the Bull.
After a long, long time, they came to a great cairn, where there was a
spur of the fell that stood sheer across the way.
“Do you see anything now?” asked the Bull.
“Yes, now I see the castle close by”, said the King’s daughter, “and
now it is much, much bigger.”
“Thither you’re to go”, said the Bull. “Right underneath the castle is
a pig-sty, where you are to dwell. When you come thither you’ll find a
wooden cloak, all made of strips of lath; that you must put on, and go
up to the castle and say your name is ‘Katie Woodencloak’, and ask for
a place. But before you go, you must take your penknife and cut my head
off, and then you must flay me, and roll up the hide, and lay it under
the wall of rock yonder, and under the hide you must lay the copper
leaf, and the silver leaf, and the golden apple. Yonder, up against the
rock, stands a stick; and when you want anything, you’ve only got to
knock on the wall of rock with that stick.”
At first she wouldn’t do anything of the kind; but when the Bull said
it was the only thanks he would have for what he had done for her, she
couldn’t help herself. So, however much it grieved her heart, she
hacked and cut away with her knife at the big beast till she got both
his head and his hide off, and then she laid the hide up under the wall
of rock, and put the copper leaf, and the silvern leaf, and the golden
apple inside it.
So when she had done that, she went over to the pig-sty, but all the
while she went she sobbed and wept. There she put on the wooden cloak,
and so went up to the palace. When she came into the kitchen she begged
for a place, and told them her name was Katie Woodencloak. Yes, the
cook said she might have a place—she might have leave to be there in
the scullery, and wash up, for the lassie who did that work before had
just gone away.
“But as soon as you get weary of being here, you’ll go your way too,
I’ll be bound.”
No; she was sure she wouldn’t do that.
So there she was, behaving so well, and washing up so handily. The
Sunday after there were to be strange guests at the palace, so Katie
asked if she might have leave to carry up water for the Prince’s bath;
but all the rest laughed at her, and said:
“What should you do there? Do you think the Prince will care to look at
you, you who are such a fright!”
But she wouldn’t give it up, and kept on begging and praying; and at
last she got leave. So when she went up the stairs, her wooden cloak
made such a clatter, the Prince came out and asked:
“Pray who are you?”
“Oh! I was just going to bring up water for your Royal Highness’s
bath”, said Katie.
“Do you think now”, said the Prince, “I’d have anything to do with the
water you bring?” and with that he threw the water over her.
So she had to put up with that, but then she asked leave to go to
church; well, she got that leave too, for the church lay close by. But,
first of all, she went to the rock, and knocked on its face with the
stick which stood there, just as the Bull had said. And straightway out
came a man, who said:
“What’s your will?”
So the Princess said she had got leave to go to church and hear the
priest preach, but she had no clothes to go in. So he brought out a
kirtle, which was as bright as the copper wood, and she got a horse and
saddle beside. Now, when she got to the church she was so lovely and
grand, all wondered who she could be, and scarce one of them listened
to what the priest said, for they looked too much at her. As for the
Prince, he fell so deep in love with her, he didn’t take his eyes off
her for a single moment.
So, as she went out of church, the Prince ran after her, and held the
church door open for her; and so he got hold of one of her gloves,
which was caught in the door. When she went away and mounted her horse,
the Prince went up to her again, and asked whence she came.
“Oh! I’m from Bath”, said Katie; and while the Prince took out the
glove to give it to her, she said:
Bright before and dark behind,
Clouds come rolling on the wind;
That this Prince may never see
Where my good steed goes with me.
The Prince had never seen the like of that glove, and went about far
and wide asking after the land whence the proud lady, who rode off
without her glove, said she came; but there was no one who could tell
where “Bath” lay.
Next Sunday some one had to go up to the Prince with a towel.
“Oh! may I have leave to go up with it?” said Katie.
“What’s the good of your going?” said the others; “you saw how it fared
with you last time.”
But Katie wouldn’t give in; she kept on begging and praying, till she
got leave; and then she ran up the stairs, so that her wooden cloak
made a great clatter. Out came the Prince, and when he saw it was
Katie, he tore the towel out of her hand, and threw it into her face.
“Pack yourself off, you ugly Troll”, he cried; “do you think I’d have a
towel which you have touched with your smutty fingers?”
After that the Prince set off to church, and Katie begged for leave to
go too. They all asked what business she had at church—she who had
nothing to put on but that wooden cloak, which was so black and ugly.
But Katie said the priest was such a brave man to preach, what he said
did her so much good; and so she at last got leave. Now she went again
to the rock and knocked, and so out came the man, and gave her a kirtle
far finer than the first one; it was all covered with silver, and it
shone like the silver wood; and she got besides a noble steed, with a
saddle-cloth broidered with silver, and a silver bit.
So when the King’s daughter got to the church, the folk were still
standing about in the churchyard. And all wondered and wondered who she
could be, and the Prince was soon on the spot, and came and wished to
hold her horse for her while she got off. But she jumped down, and said
there was no need, for her horse was so well broke, it stood still when
she bid it, and came when she called it. So they all went into church;
but there was scarce a soul that listened to what the priest said, for
they looked at her a deal too much; and the Prince fell still deeper in
love than the first time.
When the sermon was over, and she went out of church and was going to
mount her horse, up came the Prince again, and asked her whence she
came.
“Oh! I’m from Towelland”, said the King’s daughter; and as she said
that, she dropped her riding-whip, and when the Prince stooped to pick
it up, she said:
Bright before and dark behind,
Clouds come rolling on the wind;
That this Prince may never see
Where my good steed goes with me.
So away she was again; and the Prince couldn’t tell what had become of
her. He went about far and wide asking after the land whence she said
she came, but there was no one who could tell him where it lay; and so
the Prince had to make the best he could of it.
Next Sunday some one had to go up to the Prince with a comb. Katie
begged for leave to go up with it, but the others put her in mind how
she had fared the last time, and scolded her for wishing to go before
the Prince—such a black and ugly fright as she was in her wooden cloak.
But she wouldn’t leave off asking till they let her go up to the Prince
with his comb. So, when she came clattering up the stairs again, out
came the Prince, and took the comb, and threw it at her, and bade her
be off as fast as she could. After that the Prince went to church, and
Katie begged for leave to go too. They asked again what business she
had there, she who was so foul and black, and who had no clothes to
show herself in. Might be the Prince or some one else would see her,
and then both she and all the others would smart for it; but Katie said
they had something else to do than to look at her; and she wouldn’t
leave off begging and praying till they gave her leave to go.
So the same thing happened now as had happened twice before. She went
to the rock and knocked with the stick, and then the man came out and
gave her a kirtle which was far grander than either of the others. It
was almost all pure gold, and studded with diamonds; and she got
besides a noble steed, with a gold broidered saddle-cloth and a golden
bit.
Now when the King’s daughter got to the church, there stood the priest
and all the people in the churchyard waiting for her. Up came the
Prince running, and wanted to hold her horse, but she jumped off, and
said:
“No; thanks—there’s no need, for my horse is so well broke, it stands
still when I bid him.”
So they all hastened into church, and the priest got into the pulpit,
but no one listened to a word he said; for they all looked too much at
her, and wondered whence she came; and the Prince, he was far deeper in
love than either of the former times. He had no eyes, or ears, or sense
for anything, but just to sit and stare at her.
So when the sermon was over, and the King’s daughter was to go out of
the church, the Prince had got a firkin of pitch poured out in the
porch, that he might come and help her over it; but she didn’t care a
bit—she just put her foot right down into the midst of the pitch, and
jumped across it; but then one of her golden shoes stuck fast in it,
and as she got on her horse, up came the Prince running out of the
church, and asked whence she came.
“I’m from Combland”, said Katie. But when the Prince wanted to reach
her the gold shoe, she said,
Bright before and dark behind,
Clouds come rolling on the wind;
That this Prince may never see
Where my good steed goes with me.
So the Prince couldn’t tell still what had become of her, and he went
about a weary time all over the world asking for “Combland”; but when
no one could tell him where it lay, he ordered it to be given out
everywhere that he would wed the woman whose foot could fit the gold
shoe.
So many came of all sorts from all sides, fair and ugly alike; but
there was no one who had so small a foot as to be able to get on the
gold shoe. And after a long, long time, who should come but Katie’s
wicked stepmother, and her daughter, too, and her the gold shoe fitted;
but ugly she was, and so loathly she looked, the Prince only kept his
word sore against his will. Still they got ready the wedding-feast, and
she was dressed up and decked out as a bride; but as they rode to
church, a little bird sat upon a tree and sang:
A bit off her heel,
And a bit off her toe;
Katie Woodencloak’s tiny shoe
Is full of blood—that’s all I know.
And, sure enough, when they looked to it the bird told the truth, for
blood gushed out of the shoe.
Then all the maids and women who were about the palace had to go up to
try on the shoe, but there was none of them whom it would fit at all.
“But where’s Katie Woodencloak?” asked the Prince, when all the rest
had tried the shoe, for he understood the song of birds very well, and
bore in mind what the little bird had said.
“Oh! she think of that!” said the rest; “it’s no good her coming
forward. Why, she’s legs like a horse.”
“Very true, I daresay”, said the Prince; “but since all the others have
tried, Katie may as well try too.”
“Katie”, he bawled out through the door; and Katie came trampling
upstairs, and her wooden cloak clattered as if a whole regiment of
dragoons were charging up.
“Now, you must try the shoe on, and be a Princess, you too,” said the
other maids, and laughed and made game of her.
So Katie took up the shoe, and put her foot into it like nothing, and
threw off her wooden cloak; and so there she stood in her gold kirtle,
and it shone so that the sunbeams glistened from her; and, lo! on her
other foot she had the fellow to the gold shoe.
So when the Prince knew her again, he grew so glad, he ran up to her
and threw his arms round her, and gave her a kiss; and when he heard
she was a King’s daughter, he got gladder still, and then came the
wedding feast; and so,
Snip, snip, snover,
This story’s over.