Hello and welcome to Fairy Tale Friday. Are you sitting comfortably? Good. Then I’ll begin.
This week we look at a tale from 1885 collected by
American folklorist Thomas
Frederick Crane. Crane was a librarian for newly
founded Cornell University and went on to become a student of languages where
he taught French, Italian, Spanish, and medieval literature. He was also one of
the founders of the Journal of American Folklore. This
story comes from his collection Italian Popular Tales.
This tale begins with an infuriating statement There
was once a widower who had a daughter. This daughter was between ten and
twelve years old. Between ten and twelve years old is eleven. She was
eleven years old. Just say that for Frith’s sake!
In last week’s story, it was the father who mistakenly
thought that the teacher would make a good wife because she sent her kind regards
to him, but in this tale it is the teacher who actively pursues the father by
saying to the eleven year old girl, "Ask your father if he would like
me for a wife." The father is not interested. He even tells his eleven
year old daughter that there will be great troubles for her if her
remarries, but she is insistent because she likes her teacher. So in many ways, she brings all of her
troubles onto herself.
In an unusual twist the stepmother forces her out into
a balcony over a raging river to water a pot of basil (which made me think of
Isabella and the Pot of Basil where the skull of her murdered sweetheart is
concealed under the basil) and an eagle takes her away to be raised in crystal
palace by fairies who would care for her.
Now the stepmother reveals that she hasn’t seen the
daughter in ten days. Ten days! Her father is not dead leaving her alone with a
terrible stepmother. Has he not noticed that his eleven year old daughter has
been missing for ten days? Where is he in all of this? Did he think to himself,
“Well I did say remarrying will cause you great trouble. I wash my hands of you.”
Who knows. Perhaps he was away on business. That would explain why he hadn’t
noticed his own daughter was missing for ten days.
When the eagle reveals that Ermellina (yes, that
really is her name) is being cared for by fairies in a crystal palace the stepmother
goes ballistic. She hires a witch from the city to take Ermellina out.
The witch disguises herself as a trusted servant from her house and brings a
basket of poisoned sweetmeats supposedly from the girl’s father. Now, this I
found quite clever. I never really bought the whole “disguised as a series of
slightly different peddler women” trope from other Snow White tales. They all
make Snow White out to be a bit thick when she keeps getting tempted by her vanity
and desire for fine things (ribbons, a comb etc) by someone who vaguely
resembles her stepmother. But here—a trusted servant and her father make it
more plausible that she would open the door.
The witch tries again this time in the disguise of
someone else that Ermellina knew—the family tailoress. Despite having been warned
severely by the Chief of the Fairies not to open the door again, we get a sense
of that vanity (or perhaps stupidity) of other Snow White stories as she allows
the tailoress inside the house. At first she is reluctant saying, “No, I
have been deceived before” but then the witch says "But I am not
the old woman," replied the tailoress, "you know me, for I have
always made your dresses." Did Ermellina say “Hang on a minute! How do
you know the other person who deceived me was an old woman? Hmmm?” No. No she
does not. So she gets buttoned into a poison dress.
The Chief of the Fairies refuses to help her saying
she had two chances and disobeyed both times, so she doesn’t deserve our help.
When Ermellina’s body in the diamond studded crystal
casket is found by the King he brings her home and we get a strange whiff of
that uncomfortable necrophilia again.
"Mother, I went hunting, but I have
found a wife."
"But what is it? A doll? A dead
woman?"
"Mother," replied her son,
"don't trouble yourself about what it is, it is my wife."
The story ends (after some neglect of poor dead
Ermellina’s body by the King’s mother) with a wedding where they become man
and wife. I cannot begin to tell you how I hate that phrase implying that a
man stays a man after marriage, but a woman becomes a wife.
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The
Crystal Casket source
There was once a widower who had a
daughter. This daughter was between ten and twelve years old. Her father sent
her to school, and as she was all alone in the world commended her always to
her teacher. Now, the teacher, seeing that the child had no mother, fell in
love with the father, and kept saying to the girl, "Ask your father if he
would like me for a wife."
This she said to her every day, and at
last the girl said, "Papa, the school-mistress is always asking me if you
will marry her."
The father said, "Eh! my daughter, if
I take another wife, you will have great troubles."
But the girl persisted, and finally the
father was persuaded to go one evening to the school-mistress' house. When she
saw him she was well pleased, and they settled the marriage in a few days. Poor
child! How bitterly she had to repent having found a stepmother so ungrateful
and cruel to her! She sent her every day out on a terrace to water a pot of
basil, and it was so dangerous that if she fell, she would go into a large
river.
One day there came by a large eagle, and
said to her, "What are you doing here?" She was weeping because she
saw how great the danger was of falling into the stream. The eagle said to her,
"Get on my back, and I will carry you away, and you will be happier than
with your new mamma."
After a long journey they reached a great
plain, where they found a beautiful palace all of crystal; the eagle knocked at
the door and said, "Open, my ladies, open! for I have brought you a pretty
girl." When the people in the palace opened the door, and saw that lovely
girl, they were amazed, and kissed and caressed her. Meanwhile the door was
closed, and they remained peaceful and contended.
Let us return to the eagle, who thought
she was doing a spite to the stepmother. One day the eagle flew away to the
terrace where the stepmother was watering the basil. "Where is your
daughter?" asked the eagle.
"Eh!" she replied, "perhaps
she fell from this terrace and went into the river; I have not heard from her
in ten days."
The eagle answered, "What a fool you
are! I carried her away; seeing that you treated her so harshly I carried her away
to my fairies, and she is very well." Then the eagle flew away.
The stepmother, filled with rage and
jealousy, called a witch from the city, and said to her, "You see my
daughter is alive, and is in the house of some fairies of an eagle which often
comes upon my terrace; now you must do me the favour to find some way to kill
this stepdaughter of mine, for I am afraid that someday or other she will
return, and my husband, discovering this matter, will certainly kill me."
The witch answered, "Oh, you need not
be afraid of that; leave it to me."
What did the witch do? She had made a
little basketful of sweetmeats, in which she put a charm; then she wrote a
letter, pretending that it was her father, who, having learned where she was,
wished to make her this present, and the letter pretended that her father was
so glad to hear that she was with the fairies.
Let us leave the witch who is arranging
all this deception and return to Ermellina (for so the young girl was named).
The fairies had said to her, "See, Ermellina, we are going away, and shall
be absent four days; now in this time take good care not to open the door to
anyone, for some treachery is being prepared for you by your stepmother."
She promised to open the door to no one:
"Do not be anxious, I am well off, and my stepmother has nothing to do
with me."
But it was not so. The fairies went away,
and the next day when Ermellina was alone, she heard a knocking at the door,
and said to herself, "Knock away! I don't open to anyone."
But meanwhile the blows redoubled, and
curiosity forced her to look out of the window. What did she see? She saw one
the servant girls of her own home (for the witch had disguised herself as one
of her father's servants). "O my dear Ermellina," she said,
"your father is shedding tears of sorrow for you, because he really
believed you were dead, but the eagle which carried you off came and told him
the good news that you were here with the fairies. Meanwhile your father, not
knowing what civility to show you, for he understands very well that you are in
need of nothing, has thought to send you this little basket of
sweetmeats."
Ermellina had not yet opened the door; the
servant begged her to come down and take the basket and the letter, but she
said, "No, I wish nothing!" but finally, since women, and especially
young girls, are fond of sweetmeats, she descended and opened the door. When
the witch had given her the basket, she said, "Eat this," and broke
off for her a piece of the sweetmeats which she had poisoned. When Ermellina took
the first mouthful the old woman disappeared. Ermellina had scarcely time to
close the door, when she fell down on the stairs.
When the fairies returned, they knocked at
the door, but no one opened it for them; then they perceived that there had
been some treachery and began to weep. Then the chief of the fairies said,
"We must break open the door," and so they did, and saw Ermellina
dead on the stairs.
Her other friends who loved her so dearly
begged the chief of the fairies to bring her to life, but she would not,
"for," she said, "she has disobeyed me." But one and the
other asked her until she consented; she opened Ermellina's mouth, took out a
piece of the sweetmeat which she had not yet swallowed, raised her up, and
Ermellina came to life again.
We can imagine what a pleasure it was for
her friends; but the chief of the fairies reproved her for her disobedience,
and she promised not to do so again.
Once more the fairies were obliged to
depart. Their chief said, "Remember, Ermellina: The first time I cured
you, but the second I will have nothing to do with you."
Ermellina said they need not worry, that
she would not open to anyone. But it was not so; for the eagle, thinking to
increase her stepmother's anger, told her again that Ermellina was alive. The
stepmother denied it all to the eagle, but she summoned a new the witch, and
told her that her stepdaughter was still alive, saying, "Either you will
really kill her, or I will be avenged on you."
The old woman, finding herself caught,
told her to buy a very handsome dress, one of the handsomest she could find,
and transformed herself into a tailoress belonging to the family, took the
dress, departed, went to poor Ermellina, knocked at the door and said,
"Open, open, for I am your tailoress."
Ermellina looked out of the window and saw
her tailoress; and was, in truth, a little confused (indeed, anyone would have
been so).
The tailoress said, "Come down, I
must fit a dress on you."
She replied, "No, no; for I have been
deceived once."
"But I am not the old woman,"
replied the tailoress, "you know me, for I have always made your
dresses."
Poor Ermellina was persuaded and descended
the stairs; the tailoress took to flight while Ermellina was yet buttoning up
the dress and disappeared. Ermellina closed the door and was mounting the
stairs; but it was not permitted her to go up, for she fell down dead.
Let us return to the fairies, who came
home and knocked at the door; but what good did it do to knock! There was no
longer anyone there. They began to weep. The chief of the fairies said, "I
told you that she would betray me again; but now I will have nothing more to do
with her."
So they broke open the door and saw the
poor girl with the beautiful dress on; but she was dead. They all wept, because
they really loved her. But there was nothing to do; the chief struck her
enchanted wand, and commanded a beautiful rich casket all covered with diamonds
and other precious stones to appear; then the others made a beautiful garland
of flowers and gold, put it on the young girl, and then laid her in the casket,
which was so rich and beautiful that it was marvellous to behold. Then the old
fairy struck her wand as usual and commanded a handsome horse, the like of
which not even the king possessed. Then they took the casket, put it on the
horse's back, and led him into the public square of the city, and the chief of
the fairies said, "Go, and do not stop until you find someone who says to
you, 'Stop, for pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you.'"
Now let us leave the afflicted fairies,
and turn our attention to the horse, which ran away at full speed. Who happened
to pass at that moment? The son of a king (the name of this king is not known);
and saw this horse with that wonder on its back. Then the king began to spur
his horse, and rode him so hard that he killed him, and had to leave him dead
in the road; but the king kept running after the other horse. The poor king
could endure it no longer; he saw himself lost, and exclaimed, "Stop, for
pity's sake, for I have lost my horse for you!"
Then the horse stopped (for those were the
words). When the king saw that beautiful girl dead in the casket, he thought no
more about his own horse, but took the other to the city. The king's mother
knew that her son had gone hunting; when she saw him returning with this loaded
horse, she did not know what to think. The son had no father, wherefore he was
all powerful. He reached the palace, had the horse unloaded, and the casket
carried to his chamber; then he called his mother and said, "Mother, I
went hunting, but I have found a wife."
"But what is it? A doll? A dead
woman?"
"Mother," replied her son,
"don't trouble yourself about what it is, it is my wife."
His mother began to laugh and withdrew to
her own room (what could she do, poor mother?).
Now this poor king no longer went hunting,
took no diversion, did not even go to the table, but ate in his own room. By a
fatality it happened that war was declared against him, and he was obliged to
depart. He called his mother, and said, "Mother, I wish two careful
chambermaids, whose business it shall be to guard this casket; for if on my
return I find that anything has happened to my casket, I shall have the
chambermaids killed."
His mother, who loved him, said, "Go,
my son, fear nothing, for I myself will watch over your casket."
He wept several days at being obliged to
abandon this treasure of his, but there was no help for it, he had to go. After
his departure he did nothing but commend his wife (so he called her) to his
mother in his letters.
Let us return to the mother, who no longer
thought about the matter, not even to have the casket dusted; but all at once
there came a letter which informed her that the king had been victorious, and
should return to his palace in a few days. The mother called the chambermaids,
and said to them, "Girls, we are ruined."
They replied, "Why, Highness?"
"Because my son will be back in a few
days, and how have we taken care of the doll?"
They answered, "True, true; now let
us go and wash the doll's face."
They went to the king's room and saw that
the doll's face and hands were covered with dust and fly specks, so they took a
sponge and washed her face, but some drops of water fell on her dress and
spotted it. The poor chambermaids began to weep and went to the queen for
advice.
The queen said, "Do you know what to
do! Call a tailoress, and have a dress precisely like this bought, and take off
this one before my son comes."
They did so, and the chambermaids went to
the room and began to unbutton the dress. The moment that they took off the
first sleeve, Ermellina opened her eyes. The poor chambermaids sprang up in
terror, but one of the most courageous said, "I am a woman, and so is this
one; she will not eat me."
To cut the matter short, she took off the
dress, and when it was removed Ermellina began to get out of the casket to walk
about and see where she was. The chambermaids fell on their knees before her
and begged her to tell them who she was. She, poor girl, told them the whole
story. Then she said, "I wish to know where I am."
Then the chambermaids called the king's
mother to explain it to her. The mother did not fail to tell her everything,
and she, poor girl, did nothing but weep penitently, thinking of what the
fairies had done for her.
The king was on the point of arriving, and
his mother said to the doll, "Come her; put on one of my best
dresses." In short, she arrayed her like a queen. Then came her son. They
shut the doll up in a small room, so that she could not be seen. The king came
with great joy, with trumpets blowing, and banners flying for the victory. But
he took no interest in all this, and ran at once to his room to see the doll;
the chambermaids fell on their knees before him saying that the doll smelled so
badly that they could not stay in the palace, and were obliged to bury her.
The king would not listen to this excuse,
but at once called two of the palace servants to erect the gallows. His mother
comforted him in vain: "My son, it was a dead woman."
"No, no, I will not listen to any
reasons; dead or alive, you should have left it for me."
Finally, when his mother saw that he was
in earnest about the gallows, she rang a little bell, and there came forth no
longer the doll, but a very beautiful girl, whose like was never seen. The king
was amazed, and said, "What is this!"
Then his mother, the chambermaids, and
Ermellina were obliged to tell him all that had happened.
He said, "Mother, since I adored her
when dead, and called her my wife, now I mean her to be my wife in truth."
"Yes, my son," replied his
mother, "do so, for I am willing."
They arranged the wedding, and in a few
days were man and wife.
That’s all for this week. Stay tuned next week for the
tale of Gold Tree and Silver Tree.
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