Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Dogs of Dagobert



Grimm’s Saga No. 440: The Dogs of Dagobert
The people of France still commemorate King Dagobert in two adages, the origin of which has been long forgotten:

“When King Dagobert sat down at the table to eat,
His hounds also took their seat.”

And:

King Dagobert, lying on his deathbed, spoke to his beloved dogs:

“The best company is the kind one never has to leave.”

To read more about King Dagobert, hit the following Wiki-link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dagobert_I


To read more fairy tales about Dagobert:


http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/04/king-dagoberts-soul-sails-seas.html

Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com

Monday, April 12, 2010

King Dagobert's Soul Sails the Seas



Grimm's Saga No. 439: King Dagobert’s Soul in the Ship

When goodly King Dagobert left this vale of tears, the dear God allowed Satan to seize his soul because he had not purged it of every sin. The devil took his soul and placed it on a ship and desired to sail the seas with it. But Saint Dionysius did not forget his dear friend. He prayed to God that he might assist the soul and this request was also granted. St. Dionysius took with him St. Mauritius and other friends who had once honored and celebrated King Dagobert during his lifetime. A choir of angels also followed them and guided them to the sea. But when they met up with the devil, they did battle with him. The devil had little power over the saints, was soon vanquished and thrown out of the ship into the sea. The angels then collected Dagobert’s soul and Saint Dionysisus with his choir of angels and saints returned to heaven.



To read about the Dogs of Dagobert:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/04/dogs-of-dagobert.html

Or about Saint Meinrad and his ravens:

http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/02/legend-of-saint-meinrad-and-his-ravens.html

Or to read more fairytales:

FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Fairy Tale of King Redbeard


King Friedrich Redbeard Sleeps in Kyffhaeuser Mountain

There are many legends circulating about this king. They say he is not really dead but will live until doomsday. No other kings shall come after him. Until he returns, he shall sit hidden in the Kyffhausen Mountain. But when he emerges from his slumbers, he will hang his shield upon a withered tree. The tree will at once begin to blossom and a better time will come. In the meantime, he speaks to all the people who happen to wander into the mountain and occasionally he even looks outside. But usually he sits on a bench before a round stone table. Holding his head in his hands, he sleeps while his weary head nods off and his eyes blink drowsily. His beard has grown long. Some say it has even grown through the stone table. But according to others, it has only grown round the table twice. Folks say it must grow around the table three times before the king can awake. But for now, it only reaches twice around the table.

In 1669 a farmer wanted to take his crop of corn from Reblingen to Nordhausen. A man of small stature led him into the mountain where he had to empty his sacks of corn and fill them with gold. The farmer saw the king sitting at the table, but he did not move.

Once it was told that a shepherd was whistling a tune that pleased the king. A gnome led the shepherd inside the mountain. At once the king stood up and asked: “Are the ravens still flying around the mountain?” When the shepherd replied that they were, the king cried out: “Now I must sleep one-hundred more years.”


Copyright FairyTaleChannel.org

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

German Fairy Tale of King Thrushbeard


King Thrushbeard

There once lived a king whose daughter was beautiful beyond measure. But the girl was so proud and arrogant that no suitor was good enough for her. She haughtily rejected one gallant after the next, but what is worse, she ridiculed them. One day the king gave an enormous feast and invited all the eligible young men from far and wide. He lined them up in rows according to their rank and circumstance. First came the kings, then the dukes, counts, earls, barons and finally all the noblemen. When the king’s daughter was led through the ranks, she found fault with each and every one. He was too fat: “What a wine barrel!” she said. The other was too tall: “Long and slack, has no back!” The third was too short: “Short and fat, has no knack!” The fourth was too pallid: “Pale as death!” The fifth was too ruddy: “Red as a beetroot!” The sixth did not stand straight enough “Green wood, dried behind the oven!”

And so the princess found something wrong with each suitor, but she especially poked fun at a goodly king with a crooked chin, who stood at the very front of the line. “Oh,” she cried and laughed. “He has a chin just like the thrush has a beak!” And from that moment on he was called Thrushbeard. But when her father, the old king, saw that his daughter only mocked and scorned her assembled admirers, he was filled with rage. He swore she would marry the first beggar who crossed the threshold.

A few days later, a street musician stopped below the window to sing and earn a few alms. When the king heard him he said “Let him come in.” The musician entered wearing his dirty, dilapidated clothing, sang for the king and his daughter, and when he had finished, asked for a small token. The king replied “Your song pleased me so well, that I will give you my daughter as wife!”

The king’s daughter was terrified, but her father spoke: “I have sworn an oath to give you to the first beggar and I shall keep my word.”

It was no use to argue, the priest was called and she had to marry the street musician on the spot. When it was done, the king said “Now it is no longer fitting that you, as a beggar’s wife, should remain any longer in my castle. You must move out with your husband.”

The beggar led her by the hand and she had to leave with him on foot. When they reached a huge forest she asked:

“Oh, to whom belongs the pretty wood?”
“It belongs to King Thrushbeard;
Had you only taken him, this would now be yours.”
“I, poor maid so delicate and tender,
Had I only taken King Thrushbeard!”

Then they came to a meadow, there she asked again:

“Oh, to whom belongs the pretty green field?”
“It belongs to King Thrushbeard:
Had you only taken him, this would now be yours.”
“I, poor maid so delicate and tender,
Had I only taken King Thrushbeard!”

Then they came to a big city, there she asked again:

“Oh, to whom belongs the pretty big city?”
“It belongs to King Thrushbeard;
Had you only taken him, this would now be yours.”
“I, poor maid so delicate and tender,
Had I only taken King Thrushbeard!”

“I don’t like it,” the street musician said, “that you are always wishing for another husband. Am I not good enough for you?” Finally they arrived at a small hut and the maiden spoke:

“Ach God! The house is so small,
To whom does this miserable tiny hut belong?”

The street musician replied: “This house is mine and yours, where we shall live together.”

She had to bend over to squeeze through the low door.

“Where are the servants?” the king’s daughter asked.

“What servants!” replied the beggar. “You must do for yourself what you want done. Make a fire immediately and put on some water so that you can cook my dinner; I am very tired.”

The king’s daughter didn’t know anything about making a fire and cooking. The beggar had to do it himself because things were going so badly. When they had eaten their meager fare, they went to bed immediately. But in the morning, he woke her very early because she had to tend the house. They lived a few days like this and finally had eaten their entire larder.

The husband spoke: “Wife, we can’t go on like this! We eat everything and earn nothing. You shall weave baskets.” He went out, cut willow branches and brought them home. She began to weave but the harsh willow cut her delicate hands until they were quite sore. “I see that this won’t work,” the husband said, “you should spin instead. Maybe you can do that better.”

She sat down and tried spinning, but the hard threads soon cut into her soft fingers, so that the blood ran down. “You see,” her husband said, “you aren’t good for any work! I made a poor bargain with you! Now I will try to start a business with pots and utensils. You shall sit at the market and sell the wares.”

Oh, she thought, if people from my father’s kingdom come to the market and see me sitting and selling goods, they will laugh at me!”

But it didn’t help. She had to bend if she didn’t want to die of hunger. The first time, things went well. People liked to buy goods from the woman because she was pretty and so they paid what she asked. Many even gave her money and left the pots behind. Now husband and wife could live from their earnings as long as it lasted. The husband bought more new utensils. The wife sat down at a corner of the market and set up her wares and began to sell. Suddenly a drunk Hussar raced through the market and rode directly into her pottery. Everything was smashed into a thousand bits. She began to cry and was so terrified, she did not know what to do. “Ach, what shall happen to me!” she cried, “What will my husband say?”

She ran home and told him of the misfortune. “Who is so dumb as to sit in the corner of the market selling wares?” the husband said. “Stop crying, I see that you are not good for any ordinary work. I have gone to our king’s castle and asked if they need a kitchen maid. They promised me they would take you and you will get a free dinner there.”

Now the king’s daughter had to become a kitchen maid, had to help the cook and do the most undesirable work. She filled her pockets with a pot-full of food and brought home what was left over. That is how they fed themselves.

Now it happened that the eldest of the king’s daughters was to marry. The poor wife went to the ballroom door and wanted to catch a glimpse of all the finery. When all the lights were lit, people entered the room, each one more beautiful than the last. Everything was illuminated in splendor and grandeur. It was with heavy heart that she remembered her fate. She cursed the pride and arrogance that had brought her so low and had pushed her into such poverty. From the exquisite dishes that were carried in and out, a pleasant aroma drifted over to her and a servant threw her a few crumbs. She was just about to take them home when all at once the king’s son entered. He was dressed in satin and silk and had a gold chain around his neck. And when he saw the beautiful woman standing by the door, he took her by the hand and wanted to dance with her. But she declined and recoiled because she saw it was King Thrushbeard. He had been her suitor before but she had rejected him with disdain. Her protestations did not help; he pulled her into the ballroom. The belt on which her bags were strung fell open so that the soup ran out and the crumbs floated all around. When the people saw it, they broke out in laughter and mocked her. She was so ashamed, she would rather have been lying a thousand fathoms below the ground. Jumping toward the door, she attempted fleeing. But standing at the stairs was a man who caught her and brought her back. And when she looked into his face, she saw it was King Thrushbeard. He spoke to her gently: “Fear not, I am one and the same as the musician. I lived with you in the miserable little hut. For you I have disguised myself, and the Hussar, who rode through your pottery, that was also me. This all happened to bend your proud heart and punish you for your arrogance, and the scorn you heaped upon me.”

The princess cried bitterly and said: “I have done great injustice and am not worth being your wife.”

But he replied “Console yourself, the hard days are over. Now we shall celebrate our wedding.”

The chambermaids arrived and dressed the maid in the finest of clothes. Her father and the entire court arrived and wished her much happiness in her marriage to King Thrushbeard. Now the real joy began. I wish you and I had been there.


To read more fairy tales, click on the link:

FairyTaleChannel.com

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Fairy Tale of Knight Goldbeard


A Swiss Fairy Tale: know them by the color of the their beards.Knight Goldbeard


Once a black horse appeared in the Visper Valley. On its back rode a proud knight, who did indeed look noble, but no one knew him. His saddle was sewn with bright strips of gold and the bridle of his horse was cut from the finest red leather. On his head he wore a silver helmet with an eagle’s plume, but his face was adorned with a beard that seemed to be spun from the finest golden threads. All the young maidens fell in love with this knight for he knew how to flatter them with his fine speech. They thought he had to be rich and he must be a prince because every day he took gifts from his pocket. First he gave presents to this one, then to that one, and then to everyone.

He lived in the largest house in the village. This house belonged to a family with one grown son and three beautiful daughters. The two older daughters were hated by all the villagers because they were haughty. But the youngest was loved by all and held in high esteem because of her gentleness and modesty. The youngest daughter loved music and often played her dulcimer so sweetly and fine that the birds themselves fell silent and the river through the valley rushed forward very softly when she sang. The knight often joked with the three sisters and teased them. First he took the older one aside and then the second sister. To each he said she was the chosen one of his heart’s desire. He whispered into the ear of each maid that she was the dearest of all. But she should not reveal this to the others. And so, each believed he loved her alone and guarded the secret.

Now the knight’s room was above the room of the youngest daughter. Each morning when the knight arose from bed, the youngest daughter heard three types of singing. The girl had never heard anything so beautiful; the sound was more wonderful than the string playing of the dulcimer. From the bottom of her heart she longed to learn this singing. For a long time she didn’t dare speak to the knight about it. But finally, when he declared that she was his dearest and would be his bride and stole a kiss, she asked him to teach her how to sing with three voices. He stroked her cheek and replied “Tomorrow in the afternoon we shall go out walking together, my little bride, high up in the woods. There I will teach you how to sing, so that you will fall silent when you hear your own song!” The girl rejoiced and could hardly wait until the next day.

The next morning she ran back and forth through the village, telling all that she would soon learn how to sing like the knight. He had promised it to her and a knight would surely keep his word. Knight Goldbeard had told the other two sisters the same thing. That morning bright and early he took the oldest daughter with him into the woods. She hung on his arm, looked around arrogantly and was filled with pride and joy. But soon he told her to kneel down, then he tied a a cord around the beautiful girl’s neck and hung her on a tree. He went back into the village and found the second daughter, who had been longing for him and waiting. She did not know what terrible fate awaited her. With pretty words he lured her into the woods, then tied the rope around her neck and hung her next to her sister on the tree.

After lunch, he took the third and youngest daughter out walking. She laughed and jumped like a mountain goat, was filled with joy and imagined how wonderful it would be when she could sing like the knight with three voices. He took her like the other two on his arm and told her beautiful stories. In the middle of the wood, he suddenly changed his voice and had her kneel down. She became terrified, folded her hands and gazed up to heaven. There she saw her two sisters hanging dead on the tree. She let out such a penetrating scream, rung her hands and begged him for mercy. But the knight said:

Now you too must die,
Two now hang on the pole I spy,
but the third shall be you!

When she saw that her pleading did not move the beast, she asked him to let her scream three times before he killed her. He replied with a hellish grin “Sing as you will my little turtledove. It won’t help you!”

They were in the thick forest where the larch trees grow close together and the view of the village was completely obstructed by the dense foliage. She let out the first of her screams

“Father come quickly come fast,
Or I shall breathe out my last!”

Everything remained silent. The knight stood next to her with rope in hand and small birds sang their evening song on the branch overhead. She sighed deeply and let out the second scream:

“Oh mother, come quickly come fast,
Or I shall breathe out my last!”

The wind rushed through the trunks of the trees and softly in the distance a hunting horn could be heard. She looked in to the stone-hard face of her murderer, who indicated she should hurry up and let out the third cry:

“Oh brother, come quickly come fast,
Or I shall breathe out my last!”

Her knees shook and full of terror she gazed on the man, who held the noose in front of her.

Suddenly something crashed through the brush; it was her brother. He had come from the hunt and had heard her screams. When he saw his sister kneeing before the villain, deathly pale and trembling like the needles of a fir tree, he called out:

“Your reward I shall now give,
Let my sister live!”

He slung back his rifle and shot the maiden-murderer through the head. Then he took the shaking girl by the hand and led her home saying:

“Here you can prosper and live,
But nevermore your trust to a knight give!”

The next day the two murdered sisters were buried.

To read more about bearded knights:


http://www.fairytalechannel.com/2010/04/reading-fairy-tales-knight-bluebeard.html




To read more fairy tales, click on the link:
Copyright FairyTaleChannel.com

From the original German Text