A Hungarian Tale
Originally published in The Leader (Joseph Clatton, junr.) vol.1 #13 (22 Jun 1850).
In those adventurous times, when fairies ruled over human destinies, there lived a Count and his lady, for many years in the sweetest enjoyment of domestic bliss. They were the happy possessors of riches and health, and every gift of fortune; but the realization of their dearest wish was wanting to perfect their felicity, namely, the birth of an heir to their riches and their love.
Twelve years had passed, and still no child! at last all hope was given up of ever enjoying the long wished for blessing. But as Heaven carries out its own laws arbitrarily and unalterably, its favour, therefore, can neither be obtained by desires however ardent, nor by piously bestowing alms, but frequently showers its gifts upon us when least expected; thus the Countess also, when she had already ceased even to dream of such a blessing, presented her husband with a beautiful boy.
But, alas! she paid very dearly for this protracted fruit of her love; for, with the breathing of her infant, her own ceased.
When the midwife and the physician despaired of her recovery, when her own feelings would not allow her to hope, she recommended the little one to her husband's special care; adding, that he ought never to allow him to touch the ground with his feet, for if he did, a powerful and malicious Fairy would at once take possession of him. She affirmed that her guardian angel had, in her pains, whispered this warning to her. But she at the same time promised that, after her death, she would invisibly protect both her husband and the dear germ of her love. Scarcely had she uttered these words when she died in the arms of her deeply-grieved husband.
The Count now lived entirely secluded from the world, devoting all his time and care to his beloved son. But, however happy he was in his sight, and in the enjoyment of every luxury, he could not regain that cheerfulness of mind he possessed even before the birth of his dear child: for had he not lost his beloved wife?—Still, on his part, nothing was neglected the child's education demanded.
When the boy no longer needed the arms of his nurses, a peculiar chair was prepared for his use, in which he could, without any assistance, move about in the gardens of his father's estate; besides this, he was always, when required, carried in a sedan-chair, and as carefully attended as watched, that his feet might never touch the ground.
But, as the physicians found that the development of his juvenile strength required more bodily exercise, they recommended his riding on horseback. His instruction in riding began already in his tenth year, and he became in a very short time so skilful a horseman, that he was universally compared to a centaur. But as in all his rides he was always accompanied by his father's riding-master and a numerous suite, there was no fear of his falling.
Thus intrusted to his own skill, and to the watchfulness of his suite, he used to ride out nearly every day, always safely returning home. Meanwhile fifteen years had elapsed since the death of the Countess, and her warning was now only observed from habit.
One day the youth rode with his suite over fields and meadows to a wood—where his father used sometimes to amuse himself in hunting. The road led towards a rivulet surrounded with bushes. All the horsemen successfully leaped over it; but a hare, frightened by the trampling of the horses, suddenly rushed out from a bush, and with all its speed hastened to the wood. The valiant young Count ran after the fugitive, and was very near overtaking him, when the girth of his horse broke, and he fell with his saddle to the ground, and with a shriek he vanished from the eyes of his suite.
Scarcely had he fallen from his horse when the invisible Fairy seized him, and carried him away. Quite a new world now opened to his gaze, a world which gave him no joy, nor any hope of ever obtaining his deliverance. A strangely built castle, surrounded by a lake, was the residence of his mistress. The lake was crossed by an ethereal bridge, composed of nothing but clouds; beyond it were woods and mountains, eternally covered with fogs, animated neither by human voice nor any breathing creature. All was frightful, gloomy, and joyless, and only towards the east of the castle, where the lake bordered a narrow neck of land, was a path leading through a rocky valley, beyond which a sparkling river could be seen from a distance.
No sooner did the Fairy reach her own dominion when she gave him to understand, by many harsh words, that his days of joy were ended.
She first of all gave him a glass hatchet, commanding him to immediately cross the bridge of clouds, to proceed to a forest, and to cut all the trees therein before sunset, cautioning him at the same time, very earnestly, not to enter into any conversation with a black girl he would meet, for if he did not refrain from so doing he would draw upon himself her severest anger.
The youth listened in all humility to the commands of his mistress, and repaired with his glass hatchet to the place of his destination. The bridge appeared to sink down under each of his steps, but fear prevented all hesitation, and he safely reached, though quite exhausted, the other side of the lake, and there hastened to begin his task.
But at the first stroke his hatchet broke into a thousand pieces. A stream of tears rushed from his eyes; the most deadly fear seized him, for he thought the infuriate Fairy would at once annihilate him. With a cry of fear he ran through the darkness of the wood, imploring even the dumb trees for assistance and compassion.
Exhausted from fear and fatigue, he at last sank under the shade of a hedge, there to await his ultimate fate, when sleep closed his eyes, freeing him, for a short time at least, from his anxiety. Suddenly, as if shaken by a mighty arm, he reopened his eyes, and saw a black girl standing before him. Mindful of the prohibition of his dominatrix, he at once recognized her as being the object of that prohibition; he therefore did not dare to address a single word to her. But she very soon encouraged him with a friendly greeting, and asked him whether he too did not belong to the mistress of those dominions? He merely nodded affirmatively; but, attracted towards the girl by an unutterable feeling, he contemplated her with increasing curiosity. She told him that she too was obliged to submit to the commands of the Fairy, who had bewitched her with this gloomy countenance until she should meet a youth who would take pity upon her, and carry her across the river which circumscribes the dominion as well as the power of the Fairy. Beyond this river she has no power to hurt a mortal being when, once having saved himself by swimming through its waves, he reaches the opposite shore.
These words inspired the youth with so much confidence that he, without any reserve, revealed his fate to her, begging her to advise him what he ought to do to escape the punishment for breaking the hatchet. The black girl glanced more and more kindly into the face of the poor stranger, and at last said to him:—
"Learn that the Fairy under whose sway we are both groaning is my own mother; but do not betray this my confession to her, for it would cost me my life. If, after two more tasks she will give you, you promise me that you will redeem me, I, on my part, promise you my most efficient assistance in every difficulty and danger you may fall into; for I, too, am endowed with a certain power to accomplish things apparently impossible to be performed; and were I, moreover, to be protected by the arms of love, I could even frustrate the mighty purposes of my vindictive mother."
The confidence of the youth once awakened by the amiable demeanour of the girl, he now became more and more firmly resolved; and he did not hesitate to assure her that he would do his utmost to realize her wish, and thus to accelerate their mutual redemption.
The girl now exhorted him to calm himself, and, after having drunk the beverage she would give, again to seek repose; and, on awakening, he was not to say a single word to the Fairy about what had happened, but to tell her that all he should see on his awakening had been his own work.
Highly pleased, the youth promised to punctually follow her advice. Then the girl drew out a flask from her bosom, tendered it to him, and, after he had emptied its contents, she went away.
The young Count, in obedience to the girl's commendation, stretched himself under the shade of a bush and fell asleep, dreaming very pleasantly. But how great was his astonishment upon awakening, after a short rest, to perceive the glass hatchet uninjured lying at his feet, and all the trees in the forest cut down! He now hastened back across the bridge of clouds, and informed the Fairy that he had done as she had commanded him. The Fairy was astonished at hearing that the wood was all cut and the glass hatchet uninjured; she, therefore, very strongly insisted upon his telling her whether he had seen or spoken to the black girl. But the youth firmly denied his having done so, assuring her that he had so zealously occupied himself with his task that he had not even found a moment to turn his eyes from the trees and hatchet. Satisfied with this answer, she gave him some bread and water, and showed him a small, obscure cell for his resting-place.
Scarcely had the day began to dawn when the Fairy appeared, ordering him to cleave with the same hatchet the felled trees into logs, and to pile them up in heaps, again forbidding him most earnestly to approach the black girl.
Although this second task was not easier to perform than the first, nevertheless the youth proceeded towards its accomplishment more spirited than before, as the promise of his confidant led him to expect a favourable result. With much more ease and rapidity than before, he passed over the bridge of clouds. He had hardly done so when the black girl appeared, giving him a hearty greeting. He related to her how her mother had received him, and what new task she had set him to perform to-day; the girl smiled kindly, and, again offering him a small flask, repeated to him the same warning as the day before.
The soothing beverage began to operate, and the drowsy youth fell asleep, even more softly than he ever could have done at the lullaby of his nurse. But it was not of long duration: he soon awoke, and beheld with an agreeable surprise the immense task done.
Quickly he returned to his mistress, and boasted of haying accomplished the task. The latter now seemed more surprised than she was yesterday, and, after having obtained from him the assurance that he had nowhere seen the black girl, she set him the next morning a third task, much more difficult to accomplish than the two former. It was to build up in less than an hour, on the other side of the lake, a splendid castle, composed of pure silver, gold, and precious stones, upon the accomplishment of which depended his escape from the most lamentable fate that mortal being could ever endure. Hatchets, hammers, spades, and all other necessary tools, were lying around him; but neither silver, gold, nor precious stones were to be seen. Scarcely had he began to reflect upon his awkward position when the black girl, from a certain distance, beckoned to him to come near a rock, where she had hidden herself to avoid the watchful eyes of her mother. The youth joyously hastened towards her, requesting her assistance in performing a task which neither he nor any other mortal being could accomplish.
But whilst they were speaking with each other the Fairy's watchful eyes perceived him just at the moment he was about to conceal himself with her daughter behind the rock. The sound of her wrathful shriek reëchoed over the lake and mountains, and scarcely had the frightened pair dared to look out of their hiding place, when they saw the enraged woman flying with the greatest speed over the bridge of clouds. The poor youth gave himself up for lost, for every step of the Fairy seemed only to hasten his ruin. But the girl soon collected herself, and requested the youth to follow her as speedily as possible. Before they started she broke a stone from the rock, uttered some enchanting words over it, and threw it in the direction from whence her mother was approaching them. On a sudden there stood before the eyes of the Fairy a glittering castle, and by its surpassing brightness and its labyrinthian windings, through which she was obliged to pass, she was considerably delayed on her onward course.
The young Enchantress now led her favourite anxiously by the arm, and both endeavoured to reach the river, whose opposite shore was to protect them against the power of the spiteful Fairy. But before they got half way they already heard behind them the maledictory voice of their enraged pursuer, and the rustling of her garment.
The fright of the youth had now reached its height; he could not look backwards, and was hardly able to proceed forwards, his legs refusing him their assistance, and at every motion of the air he thought himself already grasped by the hand of the infuriate Fairy. But on a sudden the girl lifted her eyes towards Heaven, muttered a few words, and immediately assumed the form of a pond, which surrounded the frightened youth, and on whose waves he, in the form of a drake, was swimming about.
Furious at this transformation the Fairy invoked thunder and hail upon the two fugitives, but in vain; the water of the pond remained calm. She now called forth all her power, and endeavoured to make the pond entirely disappear; she uttered some words of witchcraft, and suddenly a sandy mountain rose at her feet, which was to instantly dry up the pond. But the sandy hill only pushed it farther on, without diminishing its volume. When she saw that her witchcraft had been powerless, she recurred to a subterfuge, and threw a quantity of golden nuts into the pond, hoping thus to catch the drake; but the latter only sniffed at them, and drove them all towards the shore, diving now here, then there, thus dreadfully teasing the perplexed Fairy.
Again disappointed, and no longer liking to see her wrath and shame-glowing face mirrored in the pond, she hastened back, torturing her mind to find out means to catch the fugitives.
She concealed herself behind the same rock which the fugitives had chosen for their shelter, watching the moment when they, believing themselves quite secure, would assume their natural form, and continue their flight.
The girl was not long in disenchanting both herself and companion, and, not seeing their pursuer behind them, they hastened in perfect confidence towards the river.
They had scarcely gone a hundred paces when the Fairy, hastening behind them with double speed, had already drawn her avenging poniard to stab them. But again she saw her design frustrated; for, when she already thought to reach the fugitives, at once a marble chapel stood before her, at the small door of which was placed a colossal monk made of sand-stone obstructing the entrance.
Foaming with rage, she stabbed at the monk, but only saw her poniard shattered into pieces. This brought her to the utmost despair. Raging as if she were in the act of destroying the whole world, she ran round the chapel, making the pillars and cupola reëcho with her howlings. She now resolved to annihilate both the building and the fugitives. She stamped with her feet thrice on the ground, and the earth began to tremble. A hollow roaring of a storm resounded from beneath, and chapel and monk began to totter. Perceiving that, she receded from the building, fearing she too might be buried under its ruins. But her expectation was once more frustrated, for she had hardly receded a step from the stairs when the chapel and monk entirely disappeared, and a frightful forest enveloped her with the darkness of night, and from all sides were heard the roaring of buffaloes, bullocks, bears, and the howlings of wolves.
At this phenomenon her wrath gave way to the most deadly fear, for she expected to be instantly torn to pieces by those wild beasts, who all seemed to defy her power. She, therefore, thought it prudent to get out of the forest, and once more to try her might and cunning against the fugitives.
Meantime the young couple had again resumed their natural forms, doing their best to reach the river. The girl, before crossing the river whose opposite shores admit no supernatural power, resolved to entirely disenchant herself, and reminding the youth of his promise, she furnished him with a bow, some arrows, and a poniard, instructing him at the same time how to use them.
This done, she at once vanished, and a wild boar rushed furiously towards him. The youth gathered sufficient courage to shoot an arrow at the boar, and so well aimed was it that it penetrated his brain. The animal fell to the ground; and then out jumped from his throat a hare, who, with the rapidity of the wind, ran along the shore of the river. The youth again bent his bow, and was fortunate enough to kill the hare likewise; but at the same moment a snow-white pigeon flew up and hovered in a circle above his head with a friendly cooing. As, according to the black girl's instruction, he was not even to spare this innocent creature, he shot an arrow at it, and the pigeon fell at his feet. But when he was about to examine it more closely, he saw in lieu of the bird an egg rolling towards him.
The last transformation was now at hand. An enormous vulture darted upon him, threatening him with instant destruction. But the youth seized the egg, and, waiting the approach of the fearful bird, threw it into his gaping beak. On a sudden the monster disappeared, and the prettiest girl that was ever seen on earth stood before his eyes. Full of joy and love they embraced each other; tears of gratitude mutually flowed; sweet kisses were exchanged, accompanied by the murmuring of the waves undulating at their feet.
The furious Fairy meanwhile escaped from the forest, and now had recourse to the last means of overtaking the fugitives, if they had not yet safely reached the opposite shore of the river. As soon as she got out of the forest, she summoned her carriage drawn by dragons through the air; she soon perceived the two lovers in sweet converse, who were now swimming towards the opposite shore. With the rapidity of lightning she darted down in her dragon carriage, and, regardless of all danger, endeavoured to catch them whilst still in the river. But the hostile flood dragged her vehicle into the deep, and she was tossed by the waves on some thorn bushes, and there was left as food for the finny tribe.
The lovers were now saved; they hurried to the paternal castle of the youth, and threw themselves into the arms of the old father. The happy day was crowned by universal jubilation. The festival of the wedding-day quickly followed, and the joyous old Count was soon rocking the consolation of his old days—a healthy and beautiful grandson.