Segnius Irritant: or Eight Primitive Folk-lore Stories/Three Hairs of Grandfather Know-All
Three Hairs of Grandfather Know-All.
It was, it was not: there was once a king who was very fond of hunting wild animals in the woods. And so it happened one day that he pushed too far forward after a stag and lost his way. He was alone, alone: night came on, and the king was glad to find a cottage at the forest toll-house. The woodcutter lived there. The king says: “Perhaps he would kindly shew him the way out of the wood, and that he would pay him well.” “I would gladly go with you,” said the woodcutter; “but see here, my wife is just now expectant: I cannot leave her. And, then, where would you be at night? Sleep on the hay in the loft, and in the morning I will shew you the way.” Soon after this a little son was born to the woodcutter. The king lay in the loft, and could not get to sleep. About midnight he noticed down below, in the living-room, a kind of light. He peeps through a chink in the ceiling, and this is what he sees. The woodcutter was asleep; his wife lay as if in a trance; and beside the babe stood three old grandmothers, all in white, each with a lighted candle in her hand. The first one says: “I grant to this boy that he shall run into great dangers.” The second says: “And I grant him happily to extricate himself from them all and to live long.” And the third says: “And I grant him for a wife the little daughter that has to-day been born to this king who lies up aloft here on the hay.” On this the grandmothers extinguished the candles and all was again quiet. They were the Fates.
The king remained as though a sword had been thrust into his breast. He did not sleep till morning, but thought over what to do and how, so that what he had heard might not happen. When the morning broke, the child began to cry. The woodcutter rose; and he sees that in the meantime his wife had slept away into eternity. “Ah! my poor little orphan!” he cried, lamenting; “what am I now to do with thee?” “Give me this infant,” says the king. “I will take care of it, that it shall be well with it. And to thee I will give so much money that until the day of thy death thou wilt never more have to burn wood.” The woodcutter was glad at this, and the king promised to send for the said infant. When he reached his castle they announced to him with great joy that a beautiful little daughter had that very night been born to him. It was the same night that he had seen the Three Fates. The king frowned, summoned one of his servants, and says: “Go such and such a way into the woods; in a cottage, there, lives a woodcutter; give him this money, and he will give thee a little child. This child take and afterwards drown on the way home. If thou dost not drown it, thou shalt thyself drink the brook.” The servant went, took the infant in a basket, and when he came to a plank bridge where a deep and broad river flowed, threw it, basket and all, into the water. “Good night, unwelcome son-in-law,” said the king afterwards, when the servant told him of it.
The king thought that the infant was drowned, and it was not drowned; it swam with its little basket over the water, as if the water rocked it, and slept as if the water sang to it, until it floated away to the cottage of a fisherman. The fisherman sat on the bank mending his net. Then he sees something floating down stream, jumps into his boat and away after it, and has drawn out of the water an infant in a small basket. And so he took it to his wife, and he says, “Why, thou hast always wanted a little son, and here thou hast him; the water has brought him to us.” The fisherman’s wife was glad at this, and brought up the child as her own. They called him Plavachek (Swimmerlet) because he had floated down to them over the water.
The river flows and the years flow with it, and the boy has grown up into a beautiful youth, who has not his equal far and wide. Once, in summer, it happened that thither rode on horseback the king alone, alone. It was stifling, he wanted to drink, and beckoned to the fisherman to give him’s little fresh water. When Plavachek (Swimmerlet) offered him it, the king started, looking upon him: “That’s a jolly boy, oh! fisherman,” says he. Is he thy son?” “He is, and he is not,” answered the fisherman. Just twenty years ago, he floated down stream in a small basket as a tiny little infant, and we brought him up.” Motes flickered before the king’s two eyes, and he grew as white as a sheet (lit.: as a wall). He perceived that it was the very one he had given to be drowned. But he remembered himself at once, leapt from horseback, and says: “I want to send a messenger to my royal castle, and have no one with me. Could you let this youth go there?” “Your royal highness commands, and the boy goes,” said the fisherman. The king sat down and wrote his royal lady a letter as follows: “The youth whom I herewith send to thee, have stabbed with a sword without more ado; it is my wicked enemy. By the time I return, see that it is accomplished. Such is my will.” Then he folded the letter, sealed it, and pressed his signet-ring upon it.
Plavachek set off at once with the letter. He had to go through a great wood, and before he was aware of it, strayed from the road and lost his way. He went from thicket to thicket until it now began to grow dark. Then he met an old grandmother. “Whither away, Plavachek, whither away?” “I am going with a letter to the castle of the king, and have lost my way. You could not inform me, little mother, how I am to get on to the road again?” “In any case, to-night you will never reach your journey’s end, it is so dark,” said the grandmother. Stay with me for the night; you won’t be with strangers, you know, for I am your godmother.” The youth agreed, and scarcely had they proceeded a few steps, when, lo! there stood before them & pretty little house, just as if it had all at once grown out of the ground. In the night, when the boy had fallen asleep, the grandmother drew the letter out of his pocket and put there another one, in which it was written as follows: “This youth whom I herewith send to thee, have married to our daughter without more ado; it is my predestined son-in-law. Before my return see it is accomplished. Such is my will.”
When the royal lady had read through this letter, she at once had the wedding prepared, and both the royal lady and the young queen could not gaze upon the bridegroom enough, they liked him so much, and Plavachek was also contented with his royal bride. After several days, home came the king, and when he saw what had happened he was tremendously angry with his lady for what she had done. “Nay, but thou didst thyself order me to have him married to our daughter before thy return!” replied the queen, and handed him the letter. The king took the letter: glanced at the handwriting, seal, paper—all was his own. And then he bade summon his son-in-law, and enquired of him: What had happened, and how; and where he had gone?”
Plavachek related how he had gone and lost his way in the wood, and had stopped the night at his old godmother’s. “And what did she look like?” “Thus and thus.” And the king recognised from his description that it was the same person who twenty years before had predestined his daughter to the son of the woodcutter. He pondered and pondered, and then he says: “What has happened cannot be changed, but for all that, thou canst not be my son-in-law for nothing; if thou wishest to have my daughter thou must bring her for dowry three golden hairs of Grandfather Know-All. He thought that in this way he would be quite certain to get rid of his unwelcome son-in-law.
Plavachek bade farewell to his wife, and went whither and where? I know not; but, having a Fate for his godmother, it was easy for him to find the right way. He went long and far, over hill and dale, over broad and ford, until he came to a black sea. There he sees a boat and a ferryman upon it. “Hail to thee, in the Lord’s name, old ferryman!” “The same to you, young wayfarer! Whither away, then, by this road?” “To Grandfather Know-All for three golden hairs.” “Ho, ho! for such a messenger I have long been waiting. These twenty years have I been ferrying here and no one comes to set me free. Promise me to ask Grandfather Know-All when will be the end of my serfdom, and I will ferry thee over.” Plavachek promised, and the ferryman ferried him over.
After this he came to a certain great city, but it was all gone to rack and ruin. Before the city he meets a little old man, who held a staff in his hand, and scarcely crawled along. “Hail to thee, in the Lord’s name, oh! grey-haired old grandfather.” “The same to thee, my fine young fellow! And whither away by this road?” To Grandfather Know-All for three golden hairs.” *Ay! ay! for such a messenger we have long been waiting here; so I must conduct thee at once to our lord the king.” When they came there, said the king: “I hear thou art on a message to Grandfather Know-All. We had here an apple tree; it bore apples that made one young again; if any man ate one, though he were on the verge of the grave, he grew young again, and was like a stripling. But now for the last twenty years the apple tree has borne no fruit. Wilt thou promise me to ask Grandfather Know-All if there is any help? I will reward thee royally.” Plavachek promised, and the king graciously let him go forward.
After this he again came to another great city, but it was half overthrown. Not far from the city a son was burying his dead father, and tears like peas kept rolling down his cheeks. “Hail to thee, in God’s name, melancholy gravedigger!” said Plavachek. “The same to you, worthy wayfarer. Whither away, then, by this road?” “I go to Grandfather Know-All for three golden hairs.” “To Grandfather Know-All? ’Tis a pity thou camest not sooner! But our lord the king has now long been waiting for such a messenger. I must bring thee to him.” When they came there the king said: “I hear thou goest on a message to Grandfather Know-All. We had here a well. Living water gushed from it; when anyone drank of it, were he at the point of death, he was at once again hale and hearty; and if he was already dead and they sprinkled him with this water, he again rose and walked. But now these twenty years the water has ceased to flow; wilt thou promise me to enquire of Grandfather Know-All whether there is any help for us? I will give thee a royal reward.” Plavachek promised, and the king graciously let him go forward.
After this he went long and far through a black forest, and in the middle of this forest he sees a great green meadow, full of fair flowers, and on it a castle of gold. It was the castle of Grandfather Know-All. It flashed and quivered as though it were on fire. Plavachek entered the castle, but found no one there, save that in one corner sat an old grandmother and spun. “Welcome. Plavachek,” she says, I am glad to see thee again.” It was his godmother, just as he was at her house in the wood for the night, when he carried the letter. “What, pray, has brought thee here?” “The king won’t have me for his son-in-law for nothing, and so he has sent me for three golden hairs of Grandfather Know-All.” The grandmother smiled, and she says: “Grandfather Know-All is my son, the clear orb of day; in the morning he is a little boy, at midday a man, and in the evening an old grandfather. I will provide thee with three hairs from his golden head, that I, too, may not be thy godmother for nothing. But for thee to stop here just as thou art, my little son, is impossible! My son is a really worthy soul, but when he comes hungry home at even, it might easily happen for him to roast thee and eat thee for supper. There is here an empty cask; I will fasten it over thee.” Plavachek begged her to ask also about the three things respecting which he had promised on his journey to bring answers. “I will ask,” said the grandmother, “and pay attention to what he says.”
All at once the wind began to roar outside, and through the western window, into the living-room, flew the sun, an old grandfather with a golden head of hair. “Sniff! snuff! There is man’s flesh!” says he. “Thou hast somebody here, little mother?” “Oh! star of day! whom, pray, could I have here without thy seeing him? But it’s this: all day long thou art hovering over that blessed world, and there thou keepest sniff-snuffing that man’s flesh; and so no wonder, when thou comest home in the evening, if the smell still haunts thee.” To this the old man said nothing, and sat down to supper.
After supper he laid his golden head in the grandmother’s lap and began to snooze. When the grandmother saw that he had already fallen asleep, she drew out a single golden hair and threw it on the ground; it rang out like a harp-string. “What wouldst thou of me, little mother?” said the old man. “Nothing, little son, nothing! I was dozing, and had such a strange dream.” “And what did you fancy?” “I fancied I saw a city; they had there a spring of living water; when any one was dying and drank of it, he got well again, and if he were dead, and they sprinkled him with this water, he came to life again. But these twenty years the water has ceased to flow. Is there any way to make it flow again?” “Nothing easier. In this well, at the source, sits a frog, and does not let the water flow. Let them kill the frog, and clean out the well; the water will again flow as before.” When, after this, the old man fell asleep again, the grandmother drew out another of his golden hairs, and threw it on the ground. “What’s the matter with thee this time, little mother?” Nothing, little son, nothing. I dozed off, and again fancied something so strange. Methought there was a city, and they had an apple tree there. It bore rejuvenating apples; when any one grew old and ate one, he grew young again. But now these twenty years the apple tree has borne no fruit. Is there any help?” “Easy help. Under the apple tree lies a snake which gnaws away its strength. Let them kill the snake and transplant the apple tree; it will bear fruit again as before.” After this, the old man soon fell asleep again, and the grandmother drew from his head the third golden hair. “Why won’t you let me sleep, little mother?” said the old man crossly, and wished to get up. “Lie down, little son, lie down! Don’t be angry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But a drowsiness came over me, and I again had such a very strange dream. Methought I saw a ferryman on a black sea. For twenty years he has now been ferrying there, and no one comes to got him free. When will be the end of his serfdom?” “Noodle of a mother that I am the son of! Let him put the oar into another’s two hands and himself jump out on to the beach. This other will then be ferryman in his place. But now let me rest in peace at last. I must get up early to-morrow morning and go to dry the tears which the king’s daughter weeps every night for her husband, the woodcutter’s son, whom the king has sent for my three golden hairs.”
Early next morning the wind again howled outside, and on the ap of his little old mother awoke, instead of an old man, a beautiful golden-haired child, the divine sunrise; bade adieu to his mother, and flew away out of the eastern window. The grandmother now unfastened the cask again and said to Plavachek: “Look, here are the three golden hairs, and what answers Grandfather Know-All gave about those three things thou also now knowest. Go, and God be with thee! Now thou wilt see me no more; there is no further need.” Plavachek thanked the grandmother finely and went.
When he came to the first city the king asked him what sort of news he brought them. “Good,” said Plavachek. “Have the well cleaned out, and the frog that sits at the source of it killed, and the water will flow for you as it did formerly.” The king immediately ordered this to be done, and when he saw that the water gushed forth in full force, he presented Plavachek with twelve horses white as swans, and upon them as much gold and silver and precious stones as they could carry.
“When he came to the second city the king again asked him what sort of news he brought them. “Good,” said Plavachek. “Have the apple tree dug up, you will find a snake under the roots; kill this snake; then replant the apple tree, and it will bear you fruit as before.” The king at once ordered this to be done, and the apple tree clothed itself in blossom during the night as if it had been sprinkled with roses. The king was highly delighted, and presented Plavachek with twelve horses black as ravens, and upon them as much treasure as they could carry.
After this, Plavachek rode forward, and when he reached the black sea the ferryman asked him whether he knew when he should be set at liberty. “I know,” said Pavachek; “but ferry me across first and then I will tell you.” The ferryman, indeed, was reluctant; but when he saw there was no help for it, he finally ferried him over, four-and-twenty horses and all. “The next time thou hast some one to ferry over,” said Plavachek to him, hereupon, “put the oar into his hands and jump ashore, and he will be ferryman in thy place.”
The king did not believe even his own eyes when Plavachek brought him those three golden hairs of Grandfather Know-All, and his daughter wept, not for grief, but for joy, that he had again returned. “And where hast thou acquired these fine horses and this great treasure?” enquired the king. “I deserved it,” said Plavachek, and related how he had helped this king to grow his regenerating apples again, which made young people out of old ones, and that king to set his living water going again, which made sound people out of sick, and living out of dead. “Youth-giving apples! living water!” the king kept repeating quietly to himself. “If only I could eat one I should be young again; and even if I were dead, with this water I should come to life again.” Without more ado he set out upon a journey to get the youth-giving apples and the water of life—and as yet he has not returned.
And so the woodcutter’s son became the king’s son-in-law, and as for the king, perhaps he is still hard at work ferrying people across the black sea.
NOTE.
This story holds in solution, as it were, in a primitive form, a large number of other legends. The Three Hairs of Father Know-All is more primitive than the Miraculous Hair of the Servian legend, which is itself at least as ancient as the time of Virgil; for Virgil’s account of the death of Dido is copied minutely from it. Another form of the same legend is the Golden Fleece hung upon a tree, which the Argonauts went in search of. We shall meet with it again in the second half of the Hungarian-Slovenian story of the Three Citrons, where a gipsy, corresponding to Medea, causes the golden-hafred queen, seated on a rock, to be turned into a dove by thrusting a pin into her head. This portion of the legend has developed into a whole crop of stories of stepmothers or mothers-in-law turning their daughters into birds, which resume their human form when the pin is drawn out again. The Lorely is another form of the legend. It is the sunlight dancing on the crown of a rock. The legend of the Tailor crag at Troll-hatten, in Sweden, is another form of it. The tailor, condemned for murder, is to be spared if, seated on this precipice, between sunrise and sunset, he can sew a suit of clothes. He works for dear life. Just as the sun sets, he has finished, but at the same instant turns giddy and plunges headlong into the maélstrom below. Transplanted to the Cambridge fens, the legend reappears in Tennyson’s beautiful poem of the Lady of Shalott. Father Know-All, in his three forms of child, middle-aged man, and old man, also reappears in Vedic mythology under exactly the same name. In the Three Fates we have the Norns or Greek Parce, one of them being, in fact, represented as spinning. Their attendance at the birth of Plavachek is a more primitive form of the legend of the Magi. Just as in the Venetian legend of the basket of flowers we shall find that Capricornus, the Goat, in the Story of George and his Goat, has been metamorphosed into an enchanted basket of flowers; just as the Vedic horses, Harites, become the Three Graces of Greek mythology; so the three old women in the present myth become, in the later one of the birth of Christ, the three kings accompanied by a star in the East. In Plavachek we seem to have, in a primitive form, Moses in the basket of rushes; in the king’s impotent attempts to put him out of the way, the legend of Œdipus and that of Herod and the Massacre of the Innocents as well.
The part of the story relating how the fisherman saved Plavachek appears strangely developed into another story, Otesanek, or Little Shaveling. Here it is a woodcutter who brings home to his childless wife a tree-root shaped like a little baby. They called it Otesanek, and feed it with pap. This infant rapidly develops into an enfant terrible, who eats up its father and mother, everything and everybody who comes in his way, until he threatens to eat up an old woman hoeing greens. She throws her hoe at him; it splits open his stomach, and all his victims march merrily out again. Since this is an allegory of winter, it is evident that Plavachek is carried down by a late autumn flood. In the supplementary comparative essay, the different characters of these stories are analysed. The king as bowman corresponds to Sagittarius; the commencement of the story is therefore laid in the beginning of December or towards the end of November. The Otesanek story, it may be observed, occurs in various forms, the most obvious one being that of Red Cap or Red Riding Hood; linking it by means of the Red Cap with the Polish story of Hloupy Piecuch (Stupid Sit-by-the-Fire), and this with Cinderella. Red Cap straying among the forest flowers is the red winter sun straying amid the stars; and the fact of her ultimate disappearance into the maw of Fenris, the wolf, shows that this form of the legend was developed within the Arctic circle. The character of the woodcutter has split up into two in Grandfather Know-All. In these folk-lore stories he is sometimes represented as a gamekeeper; in the Vedic mythology he is called Tvashtar (lit., the coverer), the artificer or carpenter, and allegorises the waning autumn sun. As autumn is the seed-time, he is considered as a kind of Demogorgon. Like Vulcan, his Latin form, he is lame. In the Middle Ages this form dwindled to Asmodeus, the lame devil, who presides over mines and hid treasures, and appears in the Slavo-Genovese tale of the Three Brothers. In the Scandinavian legends he is Wayland Smith, and in the Christian ones, Joseph the Carpenter. All these personages have in common a wife or daughter whom they or their sons-in-law fail to render pregnant, and who has to have recourse to miraculous means of fertilisation. Vulcan’s wife is unfaithful with Mars. Tvashtar’s daughter is sometimes represented as a Virgin whom a Marut, or wind-god, fertilises; sometimes as the wife of the impotent Pandu who gets Vaju, the Zephyr or Holy Spirit, to supply his own shortcomings. Her name is Kunti. In the Christian form of the legend, the wind-god fertilises a virgin of the name of Mary; a name recalling on the one hand the Maruts, and on the other, Maya or Illusion, the mythical mother of Buddha.
The number twenty, which occurs in Grandfather Know-All, is unusual. Plavachek is twenty years old when his adventures begin. I offer the following explanation for what it may be worth. We know that the story begins in December. We also know that in very primitive times the year was reckoned in half—that is to say light and dark—moons. There would therefore by twenty-four of them to a year. Now supposing Plavachek’s age to be reckoned years for half moons, the twentieth would fall at the beginning of September, that is to say, at the end of summer; which tallies with the visit of the king in summer to the fisherman, his request for a drink of water, and his discovery of the twenty-year-old Plavachek. Giving the black sea incident to October, the two cities to November and December, the castle of gold to January, the events of the story distribute themselves as in the other annual fairy stories, concluding with the triumph of spring. Only that while many of the stories limit themselves to the three winter months, this one, including its prelude, covers a year and three months.