Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories Rendered into English
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Title: Rumanian Bird and Beast Stories Rendered into English
Translator: Moses Gaster
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUMANIAN BIRD AND BEAST STORIES RENDERED INTO ENGLISH ***
RUMANIAN BIRD AND BEAST STORIES
RENDERED INTO ENGLISH
BY
M. GASTER, Ph.D.
VICE-PRESIDENT AND SOMETIME PRESIDENT OF THE FOLK-LORE SOCIETY
VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL ASIATIC SOCIETY
VICE-PRESIDENT AND SOMETIME PRESIDENT OF THE JEWISH HISTORICAL SOCIETY
ETC., ETC.
"But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee;
And the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee."
Job xii. 7.
LONDON
Published for the Folk-Lore Society by
SIDGWICK & JACKSON, LTD., 3 ADAM ST., ADELPHI, W.C.
1915
To
HER MAJESTY QUEEN ELISABETH OF RUMANIA
"Carmen Sylva"
To Whom the Soul of the Rumanian People is as an Open Book
A Page of that Book
Is
By Gracious Permission
Dedicated
PREFACE.
"Neither can men hear the voice of the cattle; both the fowl of the
heavens and the beast are fled, they are gone." The forests are silent,
over hill and dale hangs a black pall; beast and bird are in hiding;
the voices are hushed. But before they have disappeared, following
in the track of others, I have endeavoured to catch the hum of the
bee, the twitter of the bird, the chirp of the cricket, the song of
the dying swan, and all the tales which beasts and birds and little
beetles tell their young before they go to sleep ere the flash of
the glow-worm flits across the darkness of the forest.
I have followed up to their lairs the ferocious wolf, the cantankerous
dog, the sly fox and the wise hedgehog, have listened to the lark and
to the nightingale, and paid homage to little king wren. Who knows how
much longer they will disport themselves in the fields and forests of
Rumania, where the hoofs of the horses, the feet of the marching men,
the shout of battle and the thunder of the guns have silenced--let
us hope only for a while--the voice of the dumb creatures, who still
speak so eloquently to him who knows their language and understands
the cunning spell of their hidden wisdom. It is as if I had gathered
flowers from the field of the Rumanian popular imagination. They are
fresh from the field, and the dew still hangs upon them like so many
diamonds, flashing in the light of popular poetry; nay, sometimes a
few specks of the original soil are still clinging to the roots. I
have not pressed them between the leaves of this book. I have handled
them tenderly. It has been a work of love, the dreamy fancies of youth,
the solace of maturer age. Peradventure one or the other may be taken
out and planted anew in the nurseries of the West, where they may
blossom and grow afresh. They might bring with them the breath of the
open field, the perfume of the forest. They might conjure up the time
when the nations were still young and lived in the great Nursery of
Nature. If one could only bring to the nations of the West for awhile
a glimpse of the time of their youth! In my wanderings through these
enchanted fields I have tried to find whence the seeds have come,
whose hands have sown them, and what spiritual wind and weather have
fostered their growth, whether the rain of heaven or the fountains
of the deep have watered the roots, what sun has shone upon them,
what fiery blast has made these flowers wither and die.
Such as they are, then, they are offered in love to the English people.
I have to thank Mr. S. L. Bensusan, who in true friendship, with
admirable skill and with untiring zeal has helped me to remove the
boulders, to level the ground, to plan the beds and to trim the edges;
Miss C. S. Burne, whose keen sympathy, unerring eye and deft hand have
helped to weed the tares and group the flowers; my son Vivian, who
with loving care and gentle touch has brushed away the dead leaves that
had fallen on the green sward, and last, but not least, the Folk-Lore
Society, which has granted me a niche in its great Pantheon. It is
indeed no small honour to be in the company of the gods.
M. G.
In the month when
"smale fowles maken melodie."
CONTENTS.
Introduction
I.
Why is the Bee black, and why is it making Honey? How did the Bee
outwit the Devil?
I. B.
How did the Bee outwit the Mole?
II.
Why is the Bee busy and the Spider sullen?
III.
Why is the Bee black, and why has it a Narrow Waist?
IV.
Why does the Little Worm glow?
V.
Why does the Little Worm glow?
VI.
Why does the Little Worm glow?
VII.
Why is the Wolf ferocious?
VIII.
Why do the Eyes of the Wolf glow and his Hair bristle?
IX.
Why does the Wolf run after the Devil?
X.
Why the Goat's Knees are bare
XI.
Why did Noah get drunk?
XII.
God and the Lamb
XIII.
The Hart and the making of the World
XIV.
Why is the Fly called the Devil's Horse?
XV.
The Devil stealing the Sun
XVI.
Why is it called the Bull-Fly?
XVII.
Why is the Saw-Fly red?
XVIII.
Why does the Saw-Fly live in Stables?
XIX.
Why is the Lady-Bird dainty?
XX.
Why does the Gad-Fly sting the Cattle?
XXI.
Why does the Fly of Kolumbatsh poison the Cattle?
XXII.
Why is there a Worm in the Apple?
XXIII.
Why are the Locusts voracious?
XXIV.
Why does the Grasshopper run to and fro?
XXV.
Another Story of the Grasshopper
XXVI.
Why does the Nun Beetle cover its Face?
XXVII.
Why is the Beetle called the Nun?
XXVIII.
Why is the Wasp the Gipsies' Bee?
XXVIII. A.
Another Version of the Wasp Legend
XXIX.
Why does the Hornet live in Smoky Places?
XXX.
Why is the Hornet so spiteful?
XXX. A.
Hornet Charm
XXXI.
Why has the Woodpecker such a Long Beak and why does it peck at
the Trees?
XXXII.
Why has the Pelican a Big Pouch under its Beak?
XXXIII.
Why does the Titmouse get into the Pumpkin?
XXXIV.
Why has the Nightingale a Drab Colour?
XXXV.
Why has the Nightingale Twelve Tunes and why does the Turtle-Dove coo?
XXXVI.
Why is the Nightingale the Songster of the King?
XXXVII.
Why does the Thrush hide in the Tree?
XXXVIII.
Why has the Partridge a Mottled Colour?
XXIX.
Why has the Thistle-Finch Ruffled Feathers?
XL.
Why has the Bullfinch a Red Breast and a Big Mouth?
XLI.
Why does the Hoopoe feed on Droppings?
XLII.
Why is the Wagtail called the Gipsies' Bird?
XLIII.
Why is the Hoopoe such a Dirty Bird?
XLIV.
Why does the Cuckoo lead a Restless Life?
XLV.
Why is the Cuckoo silent in the Winter?
XLVI.
The Story of the Crow and its Ugly Fledglings
XLVII.
Why is there enmity between the Crow and the Hawk?
XLVII. A.
Crow Charms
XLVIII.
Why does the Heron drink only Rain-Water?
XLIX.
Why does the Kite cry in Dry Weather?
L.
Why can the Mole not come out on the High Road?
LI.
Why has the Tortoise a Round Back?
LII.
Why have the Fish no Feet?
LIII.
Why do the Plover fly singly?
LIV.
Why does the Spider hang on a Thread?
LIV. A.
Why are the Spider and the Mouse accursed?
LV.
Why has the Swallow a Forked Tail and a Red Spot on its Breast?
LVI.
Why does the Frog shrivel up at Death?
LVII.
Why does the Silkworm spin a Thin Thread?
LVIII.
Why is it right to kill a Sparrow?
LIX.
Why should the Oak Tree not boast?
LX.
Why does the Mosquito live in the Well?
LXI.
Why does the Mosquito feed on Blood?
LXII.
Why does the Fly eat the Cherry?
LXIII.
Why has the Butterfly Rings on its Wings?
LXIV.
Why does the Cricket chirp?
LXV.
Why do the Ants feed the Cricket?
LXVI.
Why do Cats and Dogs fight?
LXVII.
Why do Cats eat Mice?
LXVII. A.
Another Version
LXVIII.
Why does a Cat sit on the Doorstep in the Sun?
LXIX.
Why does the Fly settle on the Dead?
LXX.
Why is the Foot of Man arched?
LXXI.
Why has a Snake no Tail? and why do Fleas suck Human Blood?
LXXII.
Charms against Fleas and other House Vermin
LXXIII.
Charms against Bugs
LXXIV.
Why does the Cuckoo call "Cuckoo"?
LXXV.
Why does a Wagtail wag its Tail?
LXXVI.
Why has the Hoopoe a Tuft?
LXXVII.
Why does the Eagle live on Raw Meat?
LXXVIII.
Why has the Lark a Tuft?
LXXIX.
Why is the Tuft of the Lark dishevelled?
LXXX.
Why do Larks fly towards the Sun?
LXXX. A.
The Story of the Lark
LXXXI.
The Wooing of the Sister of the Sun
LXXXII.
The Wooing of a Fairy
LXXXIII.
Where did the Swan come from?
LXXXIV.
The Swan Maiden, the Bird of Heaven and the Crown of Paradise
LXXXV.
Why does the Duck feed on Refuse?
LXXXVI.
Why has the Stork no Tail?
LXXXVII.
Why has the Swallow a Forked Tail and a Red Spot on its Breast?
LXXXVIII.
Why does the Swallow live in Hot Places?
LXXXIX.
Why is the Dove a Homing Bird?
XC.
Why does the Raven feed on Carcases?
XCI.
Why is the Ant cut in the Middle?
XCII.
Why does the Cuckoo call "Cuckoo"?
XCIII.
Why does the Armenian love the Dirty Hoopoe?
XCIV.
The Story of the Partridge, the Fox and the Hound
XCV.
The Story of the Partridge and her Young
XCVI.
The Story of the Lark and the taming of Women
XCVII.
The Story of the Turtle Dove and its love for its Mate
XCVIII.
Why does the Wren hide himself?
XCIX.
Why is there no King over the Birds?
C.
The Story of King Log and King Stork
CI.
The Story of the Stork and Little Tomtit
CII.
The Story of the Flea and the Gnat
CIII.
The Story of the Gnat, the Lion, and the Man
CIV.
The Story of the Gnat and the Buffalo
CV.
The Story of the Town Mouse and the Field Mouse
CVI.
The Story of the Hare and the Frogs
CVII.
Why does the Buffalo walk slowly and tread gently?
CVIII.
The Story of the Pointer and the Setter
CIX.
The Story of the Rat and his Journey to God
CX.
The Story of the Seven-Witted Fox and the One-Witted Owl
CXI.
The Story of the Fox and his Bagful of Wits and the One-Witted
Hedgehog
CXII.
The Story of the Peasant, the Snake, and King Solomon
CXIII.
The Story of the Dog and the Snake and the cure of Headache
CXIV.
The Story of the Horse, the Lion, and the Wolf
CXV.
The Marriage of Tom and the Vixen
CXVI.
The Story of Man and his Years
CXVII.
The Judgment of the Soul of Man, accused and defended by Beast
and Birds
CXVIII.
The Pilgrimage of the Soul after Death
CXIX.
The Reward of the Good Man
APPENDIX I.
RUMANIAN INCANTATIONS AGAINST THE ILLNESSES OF ANIMALS.
I.
Against the Illness of Poultry
II.
Charm for a Cow against the Evil Eye
III.
Charm for a Suckling Calf
IV.
Charm for a Cow against Snake-Bite
V.
Charm against Evil Eye
VI.
Charm against Evil Eye
VII.
Charm against Worms in Beasts
VIII.
Against Worms
IX.
Charm against Snake-Bite
X.
Charm if bitten by a Weasel
APPENDIX II.
THREE STORIES FROM ARKIR.
The Rumanian Version of the Story of Ahikar
APPENDIX III.
ANIMAL STORIES FROM THE HEBREW ALPHABET OF BEN SIRA.
I.
Why were Flies created which live only One Day?
II.
Why did God create Wasps and Spiders which are of no use?
III.
Why has the Ox no Hair on his Nose?
IV.
Why does the Cat eat Mice more than any other Creeping Thing?
V.
Why does the Ass mix his Water with that of other Asses, and smell
the Dung?
VI.
Why does the Dog fight the Cat?
VII.
Why is it that the Dog recognises his Master and the Cat does not?
VIII.
Why is there a Seam in the Mouth of the Mouse?
IX.
Why does the Raven hop in its Walk?
X.
Why does the Raven mate differently from any other Bird?
XI.
Why are there no Counterpart to the Fox and the Weasel among the
Creatures of the Sea? and the Story of the Fox's Heart and the
Fishes
INTRODUCTION.
The Rumanian animal tales, which appear here for the first time
outside Rumania, are so weird, so different from any known to the
folk-lore of the West, that they arrest our attention and invite
close examination. They are, for the most part, not only beautiful
in themselves, but by reason of a peculiar flight of fancy and a
powerful imagination are so unlike anything known in other collections
of folk-lore that they raise problems far reaching, and, I venture to
think, of the highest importance to the study of popular literature. We
are moving in a religious atmosphere. Many of the tales start, as
it were, from the beginning of creation. God, the Apostles, the Evil
One seem to take a hand in the work and to rejoice more or less in the
labour of their hands. We have, besides, animal fables pure and simple,
tales designed for enjoyment, tales of fancy in which the nimble and
small creatures outwit the burly and heavy ones. We have also fairy
tales like those known to us in the West and made familiar to us
by numerous collections. A prominent characteristic is the childlike
simplicity of all the stories, the absence of any dualistic element. No
"moral" has been tacked on to these tales, and probably they were not
even intended to teach one. The questions which the study of folk-lore
has raised, whether anthropological, psychological, or historical will
be raised with a renewed force. I shall endeavour, however briefly,
to deal with some of the problems in the light which this collection
of Rumanian tales is able to shed upon the study of folk-lore.
The anthropological, historical and psychological problems underlying
our studies must be attacked--I venture to think--from a fresh point of
view. The view I hold is that the European nations form one spiritual
unit, and that within that unit the various degrees of development
through which one or the other has passed are still preserved. I
believe that we must study the manifestations of the human spirit
from a geographical angle of vision, that this development has spread
directly from one group of men to another, and that, before going
to the extreme ends of the earth for doubtful clues, we must first
try to find them, and perhaps we shall succeed in finding them more
easily and satisfactorily, among some of the European nations whose
folk-lore has not yet been sufficiently investigated. We can find
in Europe various stages of "culture," and these we must trace by
slow descent to the lowest rung of the ladder. At a certain stage of
our descent we may strike the stratum of Asiatic folk-lore which may
lead us further in our comparative study. Let me give some practical
examples of my meaning. The relation between man and animal has been
the subject of numerous highly speculative but none the less extremely
interesting and acute investigations. We have had Totemism, we have
had Animism and many other explanations, which by their number became
simply bewildering. Students have gone to the Bushmen of Australia,
and to the Red Indians of America for parallels and explanations,
or for proofs of their highly ingenious theories. But are there no
animal and bird stories in Europe which would show us how, to this
day, the people understand the relations between man and other living
creatures, what views they hold of birds and beasts and insects? Are
the animals humanised--using the word in the sense of impersonating
a human being? Do the people see any fundamental difference between
the created things? In the fairy tale, at any rate, no such definite
clear-cut distinction between man and animal can be discerned.
But at the root of many anthropological myths the animal is only a
disguised human being. The worth of these Rumanian stories--culled
as they are from the mouth of the people--is their ability to show
how to this very day the people look upon the animal world. Perhaps
another view will ultimately find its way among the students of
folk-lore. What I am anxious to emphasise is the fact that there are,
for the investigation of folk-lore students, mines of untold wealth
that have hitherto not been sufficiently worked.
These tales represent one or more of the earlier stages of European
folk-lore. The elements, not yet quite closely moulded together,
allow us at times to lay bare the sources and thus trace the inner
history of this part of folk-lore. The people are confronted by
a world filled with weird and mysterious animals, birds, insects,
each with their own peculiarities to invite question.
Almost everything that is not of daily occurrence excites the people's
curiosity, and they ask for an explanation of it; where does this
or that animal come from, and why has it this or that peculiarity
in its habits, colours, form and other matters? They are very
grateful for instruction. But it must be of a kind adapted to their
understanding. It must be plausible, even if it puts some strain on
their imagination. The more wonderful and weird that explanation,
the more easily it is accepted by the people, and the more firmly
is it believed. This question of "belief" has often been raised in
connection with fairy tales. It is asked whether the people believe
in the existence of fairies, monsters, marvellous and wonder-working
animals, in short, in all the mechanism of the fairy tale.
To this an unhesitating answer can be given in so far as these Rumanian
tales and legends are concerned. They are believed in implicitly. They
form an integral part--I feel almost inclined to say they form an
exclusive part--of the popular religious beliefs of the folk. The
people are neither too squeamish, nor too sophistical in their faith,
nor do they enquire too closely into the dogmatic character of such
beliefs or into the sources from which they have come.
In the East too the people, as a rule, are good-natured, and a good
story remains a good story, whether told by a believer or an infidel.
The study of these tales promises to exceed by far in interest the
study of mere "fairy tales." We are moving in a spiritual world,
which appears to be much more primitive in the animal tale than in
the fairy tale. We are getting much nearer to the very soul of the
people, to its power of imagination and abstraction. We can see more
clearly the manner of its working.
The comparative study of fairy lore has led to the surprising
recognition of the world-wide range of these tales. In spite of
investigations carried on for close upon a century, no satisfactory
solution has yet been found which would explain the appearance of one
and the same fairy tale at such widely separate parts of the world
as India and England. Various answers have been advanced in order
to explain this surprising similarity. And the same problem arises
here. This collection of tales, as already mentioned, contains two
groups. The larger group consists of the legend or creation stories--in
which, however, one section contains fairy tales though used also
as creation stories--and the other group consists of fables pure
and simple. It would be unscientific, I hold, to treat these groups
on one plane as if they were all contemporary in their origin. They
may represent various degrees either of local evolution, and if so,
that may be found to be the best solution, or they may have come
in various stages of transmission. The theory of migration has been
applied hitherto to the fairy tale. I am not aware that the history of
the popular fable has been attempted, still less that of the creation
legends, which have remained almost unknown until quite recently. I
will deal with each of these groups as far as possible separately,
and the conclusions drawn from each group will afterwards be merged
into one final conclusion established by the fact of their actual
presence in Rumanian popular lore.
Migration, no doubt, offers the best solution of the riddle set by
the fairy tale. No one, unless he solves the riddle of the heroine
in the fairy tale, can win her. But still the opinion of scholars is
divided. The mistake, I venture to think, has been that all the tales
called by this title, and even culled from the mouth of the people,
have been treated on one general principle, without recognising
the possibility that there may be divers layers, some older, some
of a more recent date. This probability seems to have been entirely
overlooked. That which holds good for one cycle need not hold equally
good for all the rest. But the question of the central origin of tales
must not be confused with that of their transmission. Thus a tale may
originate in India or Egypt, but once it has started on a journey of
its own it will be carried, chiefly by word of mouth, from country
to country. And as its structure is loose, a mere framework with
a very simple plot, it will assimilate other elements and undergo
those manifold changes, the investigation of which is the delight
and despair of the folk-lorist.
We are now faced by a new set of stories, some of which are mere tales,
while others are of a more legendary character. I class under the
latter heading all those in which the religious element stands out
prominently. They have assumed their actual form no doubt probably
under the powerful sway of some religious influence. The peculiar
shade of religious teaching which has moulded the actual form of
these legendary stories, and which is of decisive importance in our
investigation, will be discussed more fully later on, after we have
been able to dispose of other solutions offered by the explanation
of the origin of these tales. It will then be possible to approach
the question of the fairy tales from the coign of vantage gained.
Within this class of tales there are some in which the legendary
character is not so pronounced, where the tale is intended to
explain certain peculiarities of animals. These seem to be of so
primitive a character that the closest parallels can only be found
among primitive nations. Here a new problem sets in--the problem of
origins. For curiously enough a striking similarity cannot be denied
to the Rumanian, Indian, African and possibly American tales. But
the similarity is only in the aim. The other nations ask precisely
the same questions about the animals with which they are familiar,
and they endeavour to give an answer to their query. The parallelism
is in the question. Are we, then, to treat these tales in the same
manner as the "fairy tales" and account for that similarity in the
same manner as that of fairy tales gathered from distant regions? Or,
in other words, have we here another set of tales which have been
carried chiefly by word of mouth from one country to another? Are these
stories also new witnesses to the process of "migration"? And are we,
then, to assume that this theory of migration should be applied to
these animal tales, as it has been to the fairy tale? Or, are we to
assume that the unity of the human soul works on parallel lines in
divers countries among divers nations not otherwise connected with
one another? If not, how is this similarity to be explained? True,
the parallelism between Rumanian and Indian tales is not so close as
it is between the "fairy tales." For the animals are often not the
same. They are everywhere local beasts. This change in the animals
chosen may be due to different circumstances and local assimilation. It
is quite natural that for a tiger and jackal, a wolf and a fox might
have been substituted when the animal tale reached Europe, for the
tale had to be localised in order to preserve its interest in a new
atmosphere. One need not go very far to find the same change taking
place even in written literature. The jackals in the frame story of
the Panchatantra become "foxes" in Kalila Wa Dimna in the European
versions. Or, to take another example, in the famous parable of the
"man in the pit" in the Barlaam Josaphat legend the furious elephant
becomes a camel, however incongruous the substitution may appear. If
such changes could take place in the written literature in which the
incidents are fixed, how much more easily could it take place when
a story is carried only by word of mouth? Then the substitution of
a familiar animal for one unknown would be quite natural. The people
want to know the reason for the peculiarities of those animals that
they know. They are not likely to care much for unknown fauna. Unless
those other animals are of a purely mythical and fantastical character,
and as such appeal to the universal imagination, there is no room in
the popular mythology for animals of foreign countries.
If, then, we admit that these animal fables have been brought to Europe
in the same manner as the fairy tales, by means of oral transmission,
then they have preserved their original character and their primitive
form less modified than has happened in the case of the fairy tale,
for reasons which would have to be explained. The only other suggestion
is that these legends and animal tales are of a local origin, the
product of the poetical imagination of the Rumanian peasant, and as
such quite independent of any other source. If this is not acceptable
we must admit a continuous stream of popular tradition, setting in
at a time not yet determined and spreading from East to West or from
South to North, the direction of the stream having been determined
by the presumable centre of origin in Asia, before or contemporary
with the spread of the real fairy tales.
But, it might be argued, as has been also done in the case of the fairy
tales, that these stories are the product of individual efforts of
local myth-makers and popular poets, that they are purely indigenous in
origin. One cannot deny that the people could invent such stories. Some
one must have invented them, and why could they not have been invented
by the Rumanian peasant independently of the Indian story teller?
The cosmogonic setting invalidates this suggestion. Such a setting
presupposes a definite set of ideas about the beginnings of things
which are neither spontaneous nor indigenous. All that can be said is
that, once the impulse had been given, the imagination of the people
followed the lead and worked in its own way on the given lines. This is
the general trend of real popular lore. Each nation mints in its own
fashion the gold brought from elsewhere, and places its own imprint
upon it.
This view I find myself unable to accept. It could be entertained
only and solely if no parallels whatsoever could be found anywhere to
some at least of the more important and characteristic creation tales,
fairy tales and fables.
The question then remains, Where do these tales come from? Are they
indeed the expression of the primitive mind, and if so, have we to
recognise these specific Rumanian beast tales as so many indigenous
products of the primitive Rumanian mind?
Tylor, in his Primitive Culture (i. 3 ed. 410 ff.), discusses at
some length the beast tales found among primitive peoples, tales
that as yet are not the excuse for a moral and have not been reduced
to the background of an allegory. He takes his examples from the
North Indians of America, from the Kamtchadals of Kamtchatka and
from the inhabitants of Guinea. These stories are thus, as it were,
the primitive expression of the myth-making imagination of peoples in
which the animal stands in as close a relation as any human being. Be
this as it may, the conclusions drawn by Tylor rest on this evidence
gathered only from so-called dark ages. He is not aware of any such
tales among the nations of Europe, who certainly cannot be classed
among the primitive peoples. And on the other hand he is fully alive to
the fact that a number of such beast tales have been worked up in the
eleventh and twelfth centuries in the famous epic of Reynard the Fox.
The question arises, Whence came some of the incidents believed
to be more ancient? They lead us straight to the supposition that
such animal tales in a primitive form must have existed among the
peoples of Europe, even as far west as Flanders and France. They
were afterwards woven into one consecutive narrative, conceived
in a spirit of satire on existing social and clerical conditions. A
"moral" has thus been introduced into a set of more ancient tales. But
of this anon. In view of these Rumanian tales we can no longer be
content to leave the question of the compilation of Reynard where
Tylor has left it. The new materials now at our disposal allow us to
follow it much further and to arrive at conclusions differing from
those of Tylor. From the moment that we find in Europe similar beast
tales to those found among primitive peoples in other parts of the
world, we are confronted by a new problem. We may recognise the same
spiritual agency at work: we may see the same action of the mind,
asking everywhere for an explanation of the phenomena from beast and
bird, from sky and sea. Thus far the minds of all the nations run on
parallel lines. The differentiation begins with the answer, and here,
then, the problem sets in. How many nations give the same answer, and
in so doing form, as it were, a group by themselves? How old is this
or that answer or the tale that contains it? And what is the form in
which it is given? Is it a fable or has it a religious colouring? In
endeavouring to reply to these queries we find ourselves face to
face with the problems of indigenous character, primitive origin,
independent evolution and question of survival. We are thus brought
face to face with yet another theory--the theory of survivals--the
most important of all, which sways the trend of the study of modern
folk-lore. I must deal with it here at some greater length. I mean,
of course, the theory that sees in every manifestation of the popular
spirit, in every story, in every ballad or song, a survival from
hoary antiquity, a remnant of prehistoric times, to which the people
have clung with a marvellous tenacity, although they have entirely
forgotten its meaning. Out of an unconscious antiquarian weakness
they are supposed to have preserved every fossil even if and when it
had become burdensome to them. But it must not be forgotten that the
people retain only those practices and beliefs by means of which they
hope to obtain health, wealth and power, and they will take care not
to jeopardise such benefits by any neglect. So long as these results
are expected, the people will cling tenaciously to the beliefs which
promise them the greater gifts. It is not impossible that such beliefs,
being too deeply rooted, might survive local political changes.
But in order to survive, two conditions are essential, continuity of
place and continuity of ethnical unity. The religious continuity is
also an important condition, though not by any means so essential. The
clash of two or more religious doctrines causes on the one hand
the destruction of the official system of religious ceremonies
and practices, and on the other drives to the bottom that mass of
ceremonies from the observance of which benefits to health and wealth
are expected. In the moment when the belief in their efficacy has gone
they disappear without leaving a trace. Very little, if anything,
survives. It is a fallacy to believe, as is now the fashion, that
without such continuity any real survival can take place. This
theory has been carried to extreme lengths, without the slightest
justification. It all rests on finely spun hypotheses in which time
and space have entirely disappeared.
No connecting link has been brought forward to bind the present to
the past. However plausible some aspects of the "vegetation god"
may appear, one must remember the essential fact, that there is now
not a single nation in Europe living on the soil where such practices
as the slaying of an annual king god has been practised, if, indeed,
they have ever been practised, beyond a very strictly limited area
in Asia Minor and possibly in Sicily or Italy. With whom could such
practices survive, for example, in Bulgaria or even in Thrace? It is
known that the population there has changed its character many times,
even within the last eight hundred years. There is such a medley of
races, some old, some new, that it would be impossible to expect
survivals from the Pelasgian or Dacian past. Nor would they have
anything in common. The Rumanians of Latin origin are certainly not
the oldest inhabitants of Rumania. If, then, each of these ethnical
unities had separate practices or, to come nearer to our subject,
separate tales and stories marked with its own individuality, it
might perhaps be argued that these stories and popular beliefs are
survivals from prehistoric times, remnants of a past long forgotten,
embodying a folk-lore and popular psychology which date back to remote
antiquity. None of these nations, and, in fact, none of the modern
nations of Europe, reach back to any extreme antiquity, nor are they
homogeneous in their ethnical character nor the descendants of the
autochthonous inhabitants. There may be a few rare strains of other
blood in the modern admixture, but not of any decisive character,
certainly it is not strong enough to have preserved any survivals.
True, many of the modern practices are no more of yesterday than
these tales and stories are, but again, they are certainly not so old
as a modern school of thought endeavours to make out. Comparatively
modern nations, often alien to the soil which they inhabit, none of
them of a pure unmixed origin, cannot have retained beliefs, tales,
etc., of which their forefathers knew nothing. They could not have
laid stress on things which had disappeared with the nations whom
their successors or victors had destroyed. If, then, we find that
these nations of diverse origins and of diverse times possess a
certain stock of folk-lore in common, it follows naturally that
they must have obtained it in common at a certain definite period,
when in spite of their ethnical and possibly political differences
they were all subjected together to one pervading influence. A great
spiritual force moulded them at one and the same time, and this
produced one common result, which, in spite of its genetic unity,
would have allowed a certain latitude for individual development. If,
as I assume, it was the all-pervading influence of religious sects
which stretched from far East to extreme West and embraced all the
cultured nations of Europe, impressing them with the same seal--a
certain popularly modified Christianity embellished with legends and
tales appealing to the imagination, containing a strong didactic and
ethical strain, propounding a new solution of the world's problem
suited to the understanding of the people, accounting satisfactorily
for the evil in the world, warding off the effects of these spirits
of evil--then it is small wonder that their teaching sunk deeper into
the heart of the people and brought about that surprising spiritual
unification in the religion of the masses which survives in folk-lore.
They would thus date from more or less the same period, when the
whole of Europe felt the influence of teachings which lasted two to
three centuries at least, quite long enough to leave indelible traces.
It is not to be denied that among these tales some may belong to an
anterior period. The newer facts had in some cases been grafted on
older ones. Some remnants of ancient myths had survived the first
process of forcible Christianisation. But only there where ancient
paganism can be shown to have flourished when this new wave of
proselytism set in, only there might one be able to discover such
traces. These are the local incidents, the local colouring, which
give to each tale its own popular character without changing its
substance. Such process of assimilation is akin to the other before
mentioned, viz. the substitution of the European fauna for Asiatic or
Indian animals. Though references to ancient Greek myths occur in these
stories, yet in spite of that the Rumanian versions approximate more
closely to the later Byzantine than the ancient classical forms. The
transformation sets in practically where the Middle Ages part from
antiquity. Here is yet another proof for the more recent phase of
this popular literature.
A grave danger threatens the scientific character of folk-lore, if
a wrong method of investigation be persisted in much longer. I refer
to the system of haphazard comparisons arising out of the view that
everything done and every rite kept by the folk must of necessity be a
survival from extreme antiquity and belong to a period anterior to our
modern civilization--a fossil from the age of man's childhood embedded
in layers of more recent date. For proof of this theory parallels are
sought and found among primitive nations, or those who we believe have
not yet left the rude stage of primitive culture. If, then, something
is found among them which resembles closely or remotely any of the
customs, tales, and beliefs, in our own midst, we are convinced that
these customs, tales or beliefs are really remnants of an older stage,
through which the modern nations have passed before they reached the
present stage of development, and which they have cherished and kept
unchanged throughout the ages. The history of comparative philology
offers the best analogy for the demonstration of the futility of
such reasoning. Nothing contributed so much to make the study of
comparative philology a laughing-stock as this endeavour to build up
theories of the origin of the language on such arbitrary foundations.
How deceptive such haphazard similarities can be is best demonstrated
by the endeavours to derive all the European languages from the
Hebrew. This was believed to have been the original language which
Adam spoke. Nothing more natural, then, than to trace all the languages
back to the Hebrew, which moreover was a holy language. Much ingenuity
and immense learning were spent--nay wasted--for centuries in this
undertaking. The most trifling incident, the most superficial identity
in sound or meaning was looked upon as complete evidence. It has taken
close upon half a century to demolish this fabric of philological
fallacy, and to place comparative philology on a sound basis. We
know now that similarities in different languages may be the result
of independent evolution.
The similarities are often quite superficial. No one would, for
example, compare a modern English word with an old Latin or Greek stem
or with any archaic dialect of these languages, without showing the
gradual development of our modern word. He would take it back step by
step, and then compare the oldest English form with a contemporary
form. Most of the European languages, as we now see, are derived
from one common stock, more archaic than any of them. No one would
now trace a French word directly to that old Indo-European root,
without going first to the Latin; and so with every other language
belonging to the same group. Each nation has put the seal of its
own individuality on its language, which it has moulded and shaped
according to its own physiological and psychical faculties. The
one will have retained more primitive forms; for example, local and
historical as well as ethnical continuity have kept the Italian much
closer to the Latin than Spanish or Portuguese. No one dreams to-day
of reducing a French word to a Hebrew root, despite any similarity
of form which they might have in common.
We can go now one step further and suggest a common origin for the
Indo-European and Semitic groups of languages, a unity which lies
beyond the time of their separation, and it is the dream and aim of
comparative philology to attain this goal.
Returning now to our science of folk-lore, we have a perfect analogy
in the study of comparative philology briefly sketched above. The
analogy is so complete that it is almost unnecessary to elaborate
it in detail. It is obvious that safety and scholarship lie in the
following line of investigation. A European group of folk-lore must
first be established, and the dependence on an earlier common stock
demonstrated. But the historical connection stands foremost, and the
fixing, more or less definitely, of the time of its appearance in the
form in which it now exists. In adopting this line of investigation,
it will then become unscientific to postulate early survivals
for elements that may date from a comparatively recent period,
and for which an explanation can be found by this historical and
comparative study. And just as it has happened in the case of the
study of comparative philology, so it will happen that we shall be in
a much better position to separate and to appreciate the individual
character of the folk-lore of each nation, the form which the common
stock assumes under the psychical and cultural conditions which
characterise its spiritual life. This method will give us also the
key to the ethno-psychology, the ultimate aim and goal of folk-lore
studies. No doubt some higher unity may possibly emerge out of this
historical investigation, for which again the study of comparative
philology offers us the best parallel. Separate groups may be formed of
European and Asiatic folk-lore. The artificial geographical division
need not form the separating barrier either in folk-lore, or, as has
been proved, in the study of language. But to continue the method of
haphazard parallelism and indiscriminate comparison between old and
new will be indefensible. It will be found that even in the so-called
immutable East continual changes have taken place which do not allow us
to assume favourable conditions of continuity and "survivals." Still
less is this the case with the peoples who concern us more directly,
the inhabitants of the south-eastern part of Europe. One has only to
cast a glance at the medley of nationalities inhabiting the Balkan
Peninsula and the neighbourhood to realise the profound differences
of faith, origin and language of Greeks and Albanians, Slavs and
Rumanians, Hungarians and Saxons, and one is forced to the conclusion
that whatever these may possess in common is not a survival from olden
times, but must have come to them at a time when they were all living
together in that part of Europe, subject to one common influence
strong enough to leave an indelible impression on their imagination.
This result is unavoidable if we remember also the past history of
these countries. They have been swept over by nations, one more
barbarous than another, one more ruthless than another, and none
remaining there long enough to become a decisive factor in the
formation of the existing nationalities. Dacians and Pelasgians,
Romans and Goths, Petchenegs and Cumans, Alans and Huns, Tartars and
Hungarians, Bulgars, Slavs and Turks have succeeded one another with
great rapidity, not to mention the numerous colonies of Armenians,
Syrians and Gipsies planted in the heart of the Byzantine Empire by
the foreign rulers on the throne of Byzantium. It would be a sheer
miracle if anything of ancient times could have survived. Assuming
even the theoretical possibility of such a miracle--and those who
hold strongly to such a theory of unqualified survivals evidently
do believe in such miracles--even then it will remain to be shown,
with whom these ancient beliefs and tales originated and survived. The
romantic legend may have, and practically has, been forgotten in its
entirety. Out of one of the episodes have grown the popular Rumanian
poems of the Wanderer.
If folk-lore is to become an exact science I venture to think that the
problem of survivals will have to undergo a serious re-examination. We
shall have to revise our views and try to define more precisely
the method according to which we ought to label certain practices,
customs and tales as survivals, and also to determine the period to
which such survivals may be ascribed. A primary condition consists
in establishing historical continuity and ethnical unity.
If nations of diverse origin and of different ages possess the same
tales and practices, it follows that this common property cannot be a
survival, but each must have received all these at a certain fixed date
simultaneously, quite independent of their own ethnical or historical
and local past. All of them must have been standing under one and
the same levelling influence. This new influence may have brought
with it some older elements belonging to different traditions and
to a different past, and introduced them among these nations, as in
the case of the Barlaam legend or that of the legend of St. George
and the Dragon; but though locally accepted and assimilated they are
not original constituent elements of the local folk-lore of these
nations. These were only adopted and assimilated materials brought
from elsewhere. They are not local survivals.
The analogy between the study of folk-lore and that of comparative
philology can be pursued profitably much further. It may prove of
decisive importance. It is not an indifferent question as to whether
language and ethnic character are interchangeable terms. Russified
Tartars, Magyarised Rumanians, Anglicised Hindoos will speak Russian,
Hungarian or English as the case may be, but this will not change
their ethnical character. They will remain what they were: Tartars,
Rumanians or Hindoos. Thus also nothing can be proved for the specific
origins of folk-lore if found among any one of these nations; it
may be just as much Tartar as Russian, Rumanian or Hungarian, etc.,
for it can easily have been taken over with the language.
The fact that these tales are found in Rumania and are told by
Rumanian peasants is in itself not yet sufficient proof of their
indigenous origin. We are taken out of the region of hypothetical
speculation into that of concrete facts by modern philology. In the
first place, it is put on record, on the irrefutable evidence of the
modern languages themselves, that there is no nation in Europe which
speaks a language of its own so pure as to be free from admixture with
foreign elements. All owe their very origin, in fact, to this clash
of languages, which was the determining factor in their creation and
form. English is typical in that respect in the west, and Rumanian
in the east of Europe. Both languages have been born through the
combined forces of at least two different languages. In England,
through the violent Norman conquest, French was superimposed upon
Anglo-Saxon. In Rumania, through peaceful penetration and religious
influence, Slavonic became part of the Rumanian language.
If, then, we should examine each of the European languages to find
the various elements of which they are composed, we should be able
to trace the origin of much that is also the spiritual property of
these nations. Every word borrowed from another language represents
a new idea, a fresh notion taken from elsewhere and embodied. We
can study the history of nations from their vocabulary. We can
trace the migrations of the Gipsies by the foreign words now in
their language. The proportion of these alien elements helps us to
determine the period which elapsed since they went from one nation
to another. The large number of Rumanian words in the Gipsy language
shows that the Gipsies must have lived a long time peaceably among the
Rumanians, and the Rumanian words in all the dialects of the Gipsy,
from Spain to Siberia, are conclusive evidence for the fact that
Rumania was a centre of diffusion for the European Gipsy. And yet
step by step one can follow up a modification; small at the confines
of the Balkans, it grows greater the further it is carried westwards.
The conclusion is obvious. In Rumanian, the language is preponderantly
of a Latin origin, but other tongues come in to make up its
present character. A comparatively large proportion of the popular
language--which alone is of importance--is Slavonic; then follow in
decreasing proportions Hungarian, modern Greek, Turkish and Albanian
elements, but scarcely any trace of a more ancient local language. In
the Hungarian language there is a large proportion of Slavonic,
then of Rumanian and German elements. The other languages of the
Balkans show a similar mixture of heterogeneous influences. So
thorough has been this process of assimilation that the original
Tartarian language of the Bulgars, who hailed from the Volga--hence
their name--has entirely disappeared. The same has happened with the
Cumans in Hungary. If there is anything tenacious it is undoubtedly
the human language, the means of satisfying one's daily wants. And
yet there is constant change and assimilation going on all the time,
one nation borrows freely from its neighbour and enriches its own
treasury with the possessions of the others. How easily, then, could
a philologist of the eighteenth century, who wanted to compare these
languages among themselves, by collecting similar words haphazard
prove that Rumanian was Turkish, that Hungarian was Slavonic and
that Bulgarian was Greek, or on finding some Albanian words in
Rumanian and Bulgarian how easily could he declare these languages
to be survivals of the ancient mythical Pelasgians with whom the
Albanians were connected. Thanks to our modern comparative science
these languages are placed on their proper basis, and the words and
elements are sifted and separated from one another. Each one by the
form in which it appears in the other languages yields to the scholar
the secret of the time when it was adopted. Having got thus far,
we may now apply these results to the question which is before us,
viz. the origin of these tales and apologues.
It is obvious that where new words went, stories could also go, and
very likely did go. It is clear that the presence of a large number of
foreign elements in the language denotes a peaceful intercourse between
these nations, long enough and intimate enough to make them borrow
freely from one another and to become fixed into one spiritual unity.
If a language contains a large number of foreign elements, no one
can deny the direct influence which the latter has exercised upon the
former. Words, then, are not a mere combination of sounds, they are
the outward expression of the mind. They are the materialised spirit
of the nation, and whither they go that spirit also goes. Spirit
communes thus with spirit. There is and there has always been such
a give and take. And it is for us to follow up this constant barter,
in which the richer unhesitatingly parted with their treasures to the
poor, for the more they gave the more was left with them, as is meet
in the charmed realm of folk-lore.
These nations learn from one another not only words, but the thoughts
and ideas expressed in words. The proportion of these linguistic
elements in the vocabulary connotes the proportion of influence upon
the other people. It must not be forgotten that we are dealing with
illiterate nations, and with "oral" literature. It takes less time and
it requires less influence to disseminate a tale than to disseminate
a language and cause it to be acquired. The difficulty of borrowing
is thus obviously eliminated. We have the fact that even the language
had been borrowed and thoroughly assimilated. No archaic linguistic
element has been found in these languages. And it is therefore not
possible to postulate for the tales and apologues survivals of such
antiquity as is now so often assumed.
Two more points stand out clearly from this investigation into the
history of the language: First, the existence of numerous layers in the
modern languages, some elements being older, others of a more recent
origin. There is no uniformity either in language or in literature,
no contemporary unity of all the elements, but as far as can be seen
none are very old, except a few stray elements of an older period which
may have survived, always subject to the two fundamental conditions,
ethnical and geographical continuity.
The second point is the principle of concentric investigation. If tales
and apologues are borrowed, then those nearest the centre will preserve
the original form less changed; and the further a tale travels--always
by word of mouth--the more it will lose of its original character and
the more it will become mixed up and contaminated with other tales
which have undergone a similar emaciating and attenuating process.
Following up, then, this line of investigation, our first endeavour
is to find out whether there are parallels to these Rumanian animal
tales among the nations round about, and if so, how far they agree
with the Rumanian, and how far they differ. The fact itself that
parallels exist would be an additional proof that we are dealing
here with matter introduced from elsewhere, matter that has been
transmitted from nation to nation and possibly may have also reached
the west of Europe, although very few traces have been preserved to
this day. This is not yet a question of origin, but the next step
towards the solution of the problem. For obviously, if these tales
had been imported, their origin must be sought elsewhere. If we then
compare Rumanian tales with those of the ancient Byzantine Empire
and especially with those of the modern Greeks, then, in our case,
it might be argued that the Greeks were the repositories of ancient
folk-lore. The logical conclusion would be that these tales must be
found most profusely and in a more archaic form in the folk-lore
of modern Greece, and that the variants and parallels among the
other nations must show a distinct falling away from the original
types. Literary tradition or written folk-lore is, of course, excluded
from this investigation, for once folk-lore becomes fixed by being
written in a book it is no longer subject to any appreciable change.
We are dealing here exclusively with the oral folk-lore of illiterate
peoples. The relation between written and oral folk-lore and the
mutual influence of one upon another will be incidentally touched
upon in connection with the tales themselves. But, curiously enough,
a comparison of these stories with the known and published tales
of modern Greece is thoroughly disappointing. Only very few bird
tales--no insect or beast tales--seem to have been preserved, and
these mostly in Macedonia, the population of which is overwhelmingly
Slavonic, but scarcely any from among the Greeks proper inhabiting
European Greece. On the other hand, those few tales, which have been
mentioned by Abbott and Hahn, are very significant. They show the
profound difference which separates these modern bird tales from the
"Metamorphoses" known in ancient Greek mythology. A goodly number of
changes into animals are recorded in ancient Greek literature.--The
story of Philomela and Halcyon is sufficiently well known.--All these
are, with perhaps a few exceptions, the results of the wrath of an
offended god, rewards for acts of personal kindness or for steps
taken to assuage physical pain. They are all strictly individual in
character, and while none of them is intended to explain the origin
of bird, beast or insect, still less are they of the "creation" type,
in which each animal stands as the beginning of its species. And even
in those few tales in which supernatural beings are mentioned, very
little of the "Moirai" or goddesses of fate appears in the Greek form,
though the belief in them is now very strong among modern Greeks. Even
then these "Moirai" differ considerably from those of ancient Greek
mythology. Their attributes differ and their appearance and shape have
nothing in common with those of classical antiquity. The name also
has assumed a peculiar significance, different from that of ancient
times. This, then, is all which the modern Greeks have retained of
the ancient goddesses of fate; none of the other neighbouring nations
knows the "Moirai" by name. They have other goddesses of fate, Vilas or
Zanas, etc. Charon, who is now the angel of death among modern Greeks,
is remembered by them also as the boatman who carries the souls over
the waters of forgetfulness. The boatman alone may still be found in
one tale or another retaining something of the Greek local colour. But
no other direct parallels are found among the animal tales of modern
Greece. Much greater, on the contrary, is the approximation with the
Slavonic nations south and north of Rumania.
Turning, then, from the Greek to the Slavonic tales, we shall find
a much larger number of parallels between them and the Rumanian. In
the collection of South Slavonic tales and fables published by Krauss
only one or two real "creation" tales are found, and others are pure
and simple animal tales of the type of the "Gnat and the Lion,"
"The Wedding Feast of Tom," etc., agreeing more or less with the
Rumanian versions. They prove thereby the popular character of the
Rumanian tales; yet they differ sufficiently from them--as is shown
later on,--when they are quoted in connection with the above. One
of the creation stories is that of the sheep which, according to the
South Slavonic tale, was made by the Evil One, when he boasted that
he could improve on God's creation.
Incidentally I may mention the collection of tales from the Saxon
colony in Transylvania, collected by Haltrich. There is not one single
"creation" tale among them. Only two of the Rumanian animal fables
find their parallels in that collection. Turning to the Russian
tales, notably the great collection of Afanasiev, we shall find a
large number of animal tales, including also a number of "creation"
tales. In the former the central figures are, as in the South
Slavonic, Rumanian, Saxon, etc., the fox, the bear, the wolf, the
hedgehog and sometimes domestic animals, the dog, the cock, the hen,
the duck, etc. The same can be said also of tales collected from the
Lithuanians, Letts and Ruthenians, and to a smaller degree of those
from the Poles and Czechs. All, however, have retained definite
traces of such animal tales and legends. The animal character has
been thoroughly preserved. The fox is generally the "clever" animal,
but is, as often as not, outwitted by smaller animals or by man. The
general trend of these animal tales is to pit the cunning of the
smaller and weaker against that of the more powerful animal and to
secure the victory for the former. It is so natural for the people,
who live under the despotism of the mighty and powerful, to rejoice
in seeing the discomfiture of the great and stupid brought about by
the wit and cunning of the small and despised, and answers so aptly
to their feelings.
In these tales, which belong to the group of animal fables, we are
in a different atmosphere, far removed from that of the creation
legend. We are approaching that phase in the evolution in which the
animal stands for a disguised human being, which, in spite of its
appellation, speaks and acts entirely in accordance with human ways
and notions. These have not yet been found among the Rumanians and
those nations whose folk-lore shows close affinity with theirs.
Having thus far established that these animal tales, fables and
creation legends are neither of a local nor an indigenous origin,
nor survivals from a remote past, and also that the Rumanian tales
do not stand isolated, but form part of a group of tales and legends
common to most of the nations surrounding Rumania in a more or less
complete degree, it behoves us to endeavour to trace these tales to
their probable origin, and also to account for the shape which they
have assumed, as shown in the course of this investigation. These tales
among the Eastern nations of Europe are so much akin to one another
that they must have reached these nations almost simultaneously. All
must have stood under the same influence, which must have been powerful
and lasting enough to leave such indelible traces in the belief and
in the imagination of the people.
A great difficulty arises, when we attempt to define the influence
which brought these stories and fables to the nations of the near
East and thence to the West. Some have connected them with the
invasion of the Mongols. If similar tales could be found among them,
such a date might fit also the introduction of the animal tales
into Eastern Europe, especially if they had originally a Buddhist
background. Nothing, in fact, could apparently harmonise better with
the Buddhist teaching of Metempsychosis and the principle of man's
transformation into beast in order to expiate for sins committed
than some of these tales.--Of course, Egyptian influences cannot be
overlooked in this connection. I may refer to them later on.--The
burden of the majority is indeed that the birds and insects are,
in fact, nothing else than human beings transformed into ungainly
shapes for some wrong which they have done.
Many theories have been put forward on the mediation, among them also
the theory of transmission by the Gipsies. These came first to Thrace,
and lived long enough among the nations of the Balkans, in Rumania
and Russia, to have exercised a possible influence upon them. But this
theory can be dismissed briefly. The Gipsies are not likely carriers
of folk-tales. They came too late, and their march through Europe is
nothing if not a long-drawn agony of suspicion, hatred, persecution.
Some occult practices may have been taken over by some adepts of
the lower forms of magic, and possibly Playing Cards, originally an
oracle of divining the future, may have been brought by the Gipsies
to Europe, but popular tales, though they possess a good number, have
certainly not been communicated to Europe by them. They never had the
favourable occasion for meeting the people on a footing of equality,
or of entering with them into any intimate intercourse.
The Gipsy of the Rumanian fairy tale is mostly a villain, and is
merely the local substitute for the Arab or Negro of the Eastern
parallels. In the Rumanian popular jests the Gipsy is always the
fool. From such as these the people would have nothing to learn.
Next the Mongolian theory has long been put forward as a plausible
explanation, for it has been believed that Russia formed one of the
channels of transmission. This latter assumption, however, rests
on a geographical misconception, and also on a want of historical
knowledge. Up to comparatively modern times, the whole of the South
of Russia was inhabited by Tartars, and the Mongolian influence upon
Russia could not pass the border of the so-called White Russia. Nor
can a temporary invasion of Europe by the Mongolians, who left ruin
and desolation behind them, have been the means by which such tales
could be introduced. They are told at the peaceful fireside or in the
spinning-rooms, and are not carried by the wings of the arrow sped
from the enemy's bow, nor are they accepted if presented on the point
of the sword. They are frightened away by the din of battle. Years
must pass ere the blood is staunched, the wounds healed, and only
after peaceable concord and social harmony have been established,
can a spiritual interchange take place; this was impossible between
Russians or Mongols. We must look elsewhere, then, for a possible
channel of transmission, always subject to the theory of "migration."
Besides, to Kieff, the centre of Russian inspiration, the place
hallowed by the minstrels and poets, the Mongols never came. The only
influence which prevailed there was that of Byzance, and to that we
shall have to look as the channel of transmission and the centre of
dissemination of these tales and legends. These had come from Asia,
carried on the crest of the wave of that religious movement known
as Manichaeism and Bogomilism, and from there they started their
triumphant course throughout Europe. They came along with other
religious legends, carried by the current of thought which also taught
the doctrine of Dualism and Metempsychosis. This is the only possible
source for most of the legends and tales found among the Rumanians
and Slavs, and, as will be seen, it must have been the primary source
for such tales in the West of Europe.
A dualistic heterodox teaching with such a background reached from
the confines of India far into the South of France across central
Europe. It was probably the same agency which transformed the life
of Buddha into the legends of the saints Barlaam and Josaphat.
Nor is this the only legend invented, manipulated and circulated by
the numerous Gnostic sects. Those who have studied the history of the
apocryphal literature are fully aware of the apocryphal Gospels, Acts
of the Apostles and of the rest of the apocryphal tales which were
already put on the "Index," in the first centuries of the common era.
Some of the cosmogonic tales of the dualistic origin of the world,
of the influence of the Evil Spirit, of the origin of the Bee, the
Glow-worm, the Wolf and others show unmistakably such a Gnostic origin.
It is therefore not too much to assume that they have been brought to
Europe and disseminated by the same agency. These sectaries alone came
into direct contact with the masses of the people. They preached their
doctrines to the lowly and the poor. They were known themselves as
the pure (Cathars) and the poor (Pobres). They alone reached the heart
of the people, and were able to influence them to a far higher degree
than the murderous Mongols, or other nations that ravaged the country.
The dualistic tales connected with the story of the Creation are found
also among other nations, especially among those in Russia and in the
countries which belonged to the ancient Persian Empire. Dähnhardt,
who has made the investigation of such legends and tales the object
of special study (Natursagen, i.; Berlin 1907), comes to the same
conclusion that they rest ultimately on the Iranian dualism of the
Avesta. He believes that Zoroastrian teaching has penetrated far
into the North and West, and has produced these peculiar dualistic
cosmogonic legends.
The point to bear in mind in this investigation of the origin of the
Rumanian tales and legends is not so much to trace the remote possible
source of dualism, but the immediate influences which have been
brought to bear upon the shape which these legends have taken. This
is the salient problem. Dähnhardt, of course, discusses the further
development of the dualistic conception, through Manichaeism and
Bogomilism, and thus far is helpful in establishing the connection
between Iran and Thrace, and in strengthening the argument that we
must trace a number of these "creation" legends to the propaganda of
these sects.
It must be remembered that these tales in the European versions have
a thoroughly Christian aspect. They presuppose the existence of God
and His saints; nay, they show a close acquaintance with apocryphal
narratives, which have gathered round the canonical biblical stories
and episodes. The Evil Spirit is a clearly-defined personality, and
his antagonism to God is not of the pronounced acute controversial
type as is the Angromainya who, in the teaching of the Avesta, is
the direct opponent and almost negative of God.
A complete transformation had taken place ere these tales became
the property of the Rumanian peasants, and for that, also, of the
Russian and other North-Eastern peoples, who also have similar
tales akin to certain of the cosmogonic legends--to which reference
will be made at the proper place in the short notes to the stories
themselves. It will not be disputed that some of them are imported,
i.e. belong to the circulating stock of popular literature. Mongolian
influence--as already remarked above--is entirely excluded, in spite
of Dähnhardt. The Mongols never came in direct contact either with
the Rumanians or with the nations of the Balkans, who also possess
a number of similar tales, and must have derived them from another
source, more direct and, as will be seen, more complete than the
versions published by Dähnhardt from Russia, Lithuania, Finland and
Esthonia, not to speak of Northern Asiatic nations. Of real animal
tales there are only a few among those studied by Dähnhardt, such as
a peculiar version of "the Bee and Creation," very much shorter than
the Rumanian version; then a version of the creation of the Wolf and
the Lamb, and of the Goat's knees. These are all taken by Dähnhardt
from South-Slavonic and Albanian collections, again corroborating the
view that we have to look to the Balkans as the immediate centre of
this class of "creation" tales, and then further back to Asia Minor.
The appearance of the "Creation" legends in a compilation of the
seventh or eighth century is not to be taken as the date of their
origin. They may be very much older, and no doubt are, and may
have formed part of a primitive Physiologus in which the origin
as well as the peculiarities of the various birds and beasts were
described. This is not the place to discuss the remarkable history of
the Physiologus. The only point to be noted is that the symbolical and
allegorical interpretation of the tales contained in the Physiologus
is of a strictly religious Christian character.
The absence from the popular literature of such bird and beast tales
as are found in the Physiologus--the Bestiaires of the West--is not
surprising, for the Physiologus deals mostly with animals and birds
which are of an outlandish character. Very few have any reference to
the animals with which the people are familiar, and in which alone
they take an interest.
Though the book was known also among the Rumanians, only a faint
trace of it could be detected among the popular tales in the
present collection. The oldest Fathers of the Church made use of this
Physiologus in their homilies, and the other sects have no doubt done
the same. Some of the creation legends may have found their way into
the old legendary homiletical interpretation of the creation, like
the Hexameron of Basil, and other kindred compilations. All these
tales form part of a wider cycle of allegorised animal fables. In
Jewish literature a collection of Fox fables is mentioned as early
as the second or third century.
Indian literature is full of such animal tales, approximating often
to some of the Rumanian fables. The collections of Frere, Temple,
Steele, Skeat, and Parker abound in such animal tales, in which
the more nimble and quick-witted, though small and weak, animal
regularly gets the best of the bigger and stronger, yet duller and
slower rival. No moral lesson is squeezed out of the tales, and the
animal is not a thinly-disguised human being. Yet there can be no
greater fallacy than, guided by this similarity, to assume a direct
Indian origin for the Rumanian fables.
None of these animal tales finish with the usual "moral," known to
us from Aesop onward. Nor do the people seem to be influenced by
these artificial fables. In the literary European fable the animal
is merely a disguised human being. The animals are performing acts
which have nothing of the animal in them. The Indian and Oriental
fable differs in this respect from the European, inasmuch as in a
good number of them the animal character of the performing beasts
is faithfully preserved. Exactly the same happens with the Rumanian
animal fables. The cat does not play the rôle of the queen, and the
fox is not a sly courtier. Cat is cat, and fox is fox. And yet they
were not unaware of the fables of Aesop. I have found these fables in
many old Rumanian manuscripts, and one of the first printed popular
books of the country was the Collection of Aesop.
Unquestionably a good many proverbs are intimately connected with
tales. The "moral" in Aesop has often dwindled down to a simple
proverb, or has expanded out of it. These proverbs are, as it were,
succinct conclusions drawn out by the people. Anton Pann (in the
middle of the last century)--to whom the Rumanian popular literature
will for ever remain indebted--therefore calls his Collection of
Proverbs and Tales "Povestea vorbii," i.e. "The tale which hangs by
the Proverb." One and all of the hundred tales found in the second and
last edition of this book are mostly of a purely popular origin. The
process throughout is not to invent a story for the moral, but the
"moral," such as it is, is to flow naturally from the story.
This is not the place to discuss the origin of the animal fable
in general. But one cannot overlook the fact that all the Indian
fables--with the exception of some embodied in the Panchatantra--are
found in modern collections. All that we know of them is that they
live actually in the mouth of the modern people. They may be old,
they may be of more recent date.
Against these modern collections must be set now the story of Ahikar,
which carries us back at least to the fifth century B.C., and is
thus far the oldest record of animal tales. It has become one of the
popular stories which circulated in a written form, and became the
source of many a quaint proverb, as probably also of some animal tales.
The recent discovery among the Papyri of Elephantine in Southern Egypt
of the Story of Ahikar has carried back the knowledge of allegorical
beast fables to at least the fifth century B.C. For not only do we find
in that story the prototype of the life of Aesop, but also a number
of maxims and saws, and not a few beast tales, which are mentioned by
Ahikar in order to teach his ungrateful nephew Nadan. We find there,
e.g. the prototype of "pious" wolf, who appears in the Ahikar story as
an innocent student, but who cannot take in the lesson given to him,
his mind wandering to the sheep. There are other wolf, fox, rat and
bird fables in the Rumanian and, still more so, in the Oriental and
other versions. Ahikar himself relates the beast tales, allowing Nadan
to draw the lesson. By the manner in which these tales are referred
to, it is obvious that they must have been well known tales current
among the people.
The real importance of this discovery lies in the fact that we have
here a number of cleverly-used popular animal tales, more than two
thousand years old, whose home was in all probability Syria or Egypt,
embedded in a collection which has deeply influenced the apocryphal
Book of Tobit, and to a certain degree even the writers of the New
Testament, as shown by Professors Rendel Harris and Conybeare in
the Introduction to their edition of the Story of Ahikar (second
edition). The claim for an Indian origin of these fables will
have to be abandoned, unless someone could show older writings
from India, and the possible road by which these fables could have
reached the Western shore of Asia Minor and been taken up by the
peoples of Syria and Egypt at such an early date. It is not at all
unlikely that some of the fables, just as they travelled westwards,
also travelled eastwards and found a home in India as they found a
home in Rumania and Russia. If one remembers now that the fabulous
"Life" of Aesop ascribed to Planudes is almost identical with part of
that of Ahikar, as I have shown, as far back as 1883 in my History
of the Rumanian Popular Literature (Bucharest 1883, p. 104 ff.),
it will not be difficult to account for the West-Asiatic origin of
the fables themselves.
From a Rumanian MS. of the eighteenth century, I have since published
the fuller narrative of that version in an English translation
(the Journal of the Royal As. Soc., 1900, pp. 301-319). The two
tales contained therein have also been reprinted here at the end
of the collection, especially as they vary somewhat from the other
ancient and mediæval recensions of the Story of Ahikar. This story
has become one of the Rumanian popular chap-books in the shortened
version of Anton Pann. The practical application of the fable, the
"moralisation," is a second stage, limited, as it seems, to the purely
literary composition. The people put their own interpretations upon
the fables and often dispensed with any such interpretations.
We are brought back again to the same centre, Syria and Byzance,
for the dissemination of these fables. Such tales were then within
the reach of the teaching of the various sects, such as Manichaeans,
Bogomils, Cathars, etc., and travelled with them from East to West,
where they met the other current of the Aesopian fables transmitted to
the West through Latin and Arabic sources. According to this theory
the religious sectarians made deft use also of animal tales, for the
purpose of inculcating a moral, of drawing a lesson, of holding up the
Church and State to the ridicule and contempt of the masses, and thus
creating the animal satire, the best type of which is the cycle of
Reynard the Fox. I am not oblivious of the fact that an allegorical
use has been made of animal tales in the Arabic literature, such as
the "Judgment of the Animals," under the title of Hai ben Yokdhan,
written in Arabic by Ibn Tophail, translated into English by Simon
Ockley in 1711, in which the lion holds a court, and animal after
animal appears to accuse man; or the collection of Sahula (thirteenth
cent.) in his ancient apologue Mashal ha-kadmoni. But there is no
real connection between this cycle and that of Reynard the Fox.
Any reference to the epic of Reynard the Fox must be incidental. It can
only be alluded to here, and not followed up in detail. A real Western
origin for these tales, taking them separately or as "branches,"
as they appear in the old French versions, has not been found,
nor any explanation for their sudden appearance in the eleventh or
twelfth century.
There are two or three points in connection with this cycle which have
to be kept steadily in view. In the first place its almost complete
independence of the purely Aesopian fable with its polished form,
with its thinly-disguised human attributes, and with its stilted
and stiff "moral." Though modified somehow in Babrius, Avianus, even
Marie de France and Berachya, this latter cycle belongs more to the
literary class. The "clerks" could not take umbrage at them. Not so the
tales in the Reynard cycle. They are thoroughly popular. The animals
retain their natural attributes, they act as they are expected to do,
and they are utilised in the same manner as "political broadsides"
were in later times. The human beings represented in these "satirical
sheets" are disguised as animals, and not the animals disguised as
human beings. There lies the profound difference between these two
sets of beast tales.
And because of their animal propensity, the human beings are ridiculed
and lampooned in the form of animals and held up to the scorn and
laughter of the reader. The bad man, as in the old story of Ahikar, is
likened to the beast, and chastised accordingly. The popular origin
and character of this kind of satire is self-evident. Courtiers
and clerks would not attempt such persiflage of their superiors,
and certainly not in so sustained a manner.
Of the men thus ridiculed none are so virulently assailed as the
Clergy. People do not mind occasionally a slight skit on priests and
other privileged classes, and there are abundant fabliaux which leave
very little to be desired from the point of view of ridicule. But to
have singled out the Clergy for such unmeasured vituperation shows a
deliberate attempt to lower and destroy the influence and authority
of the Church in general and of its ministers in particular. Only
partisans of heterodox teaching could find pleasure and profit in
applying the beast tales to break down the walls of the Church. Only
men in contact with the masses could throw that leaven of critical
examination into the hearts of the people and open their eyes by
means of animal tales to the weaknesses and vices of their official
clergy. Such outspoken criticism seldom comes from within. It is
often imported wholesale from without, or at least comes from an
opposing quarter. In their polemical propaganda these heterodox
teachers brought and used also some of those fox tales for which,
significantly enough, parallels are to be found mostly in Slavonic
tales from Russia and the Balkans.
If such be the partial origin of these Reynard tales, one can easily
understand why they appeared in the eleventh or twelfth century,
and notably in the countries then the very centres of such heterodox
teaching: South of France, Flanders and elsewhere. A very remarkable
fact seems to corroborate this hypothesis. One of the presumed authors
of a "branch" of the French Reynard cycle, Pierre Cloot, was burnt in
Paris in 1208 for heresy. Here we have a man who paid with his life
for his heretic faith, actually working on these tales. It may be a
mere coincidence, still some connection between the Reynard poem and
"heretics" cannot be denied.
With the victory of the Church, Reynard nearly disappeared, yet that
satirical leaven has continued to work in those political animal
broadsides, which stretch from the "Who killed Cock Robin?" in England
to "Who killed the Cat?" in Russia among the Russian broadsides.
There remains now still one section of these Rumanian tales to be
considered, that in which the origin of the animal is closely connected
with what is commonly known as the fairy tale. It is just in this fact
that the pre-eminence of these tales can be found. It is like a window
through which the East is looking westwards. It is noteworthy that the
"fairy tales" found here connected with the origin of the birds and
beasts do not stand so isolated as the legends. To more than one of
them parallels may be adduced from other than Eastern collections. In
spite of similarity, they differ, however, in many points so profoundly
that they lead to a very serious question. It cannot be passed over,
though it cannot be treated here at such length as the problem raised
would demand. To put it briefly, the difference between these fairy
tales and those of the West, is that in these versions of the former
a "moral" or perhaps a plausible reason is given to the fairy tale
which is often missing in the general form of the fairy tales.
The question has been asked repeatedly, "What is the meaning of such
and such a tale," e.g. the "Cinderella" tales or "Bluebeard"? To
Miss Cox's indefatigable labour we owe a monumental investigation of
the first-mentioned tale, and yet for all that the main question has
remained unanswered. This is but one example out of many.
Every collection of fairy tales teems with them. Of course, the
æsthetic pleasure of seeing innocence triumphant and virtue rewarded
might be a sufficient motive, and no doubt often is. The people
like to see, in the imaginary tale, a vindication of the justice
which they often miss in real life. The adventurous hero will also
appeal to the chivalrous instincts of the people, and especially to
the young. Such tales as the epic romances of old require no further
explanation. Still there are a good many fairy tales the reason and
meaning of which are anything but clear. If it can now be shown that
there is a cosmogonic background, or one which gives the clue to
it, inasmuch as it tells the "origin" of certain creatures, such a
tale is at once its own explanation and justification: if e.g. the
final development of "Cinderella" is not that she becomes the wife
of a prince, but that she becomes the "dove" or the "sparrow," then
"Cinderella" assumes a definite meaning. Under other influences,
when such heterodox teachings cannot be tolerated by the powers that
be, obviously the creation tales, with this specific character, had
to lose their "tail," as the stork does in the story, and hence the
fairy tale became partly meaningless. Thus, if the "Bluebeard" could
no longer be "a cannibal," as in the tale No. 83, such a person not
being tolerated in a modern state, except as a wizard, lycanthropos,
or werwolf, he had to be changed into what he is now. The modern
"Bluebeard" is a mere pale reflex of the original monster. He does
not even make the flesh creep sufficiently. This watering down may
have taken place also in other tales which appear to us without any
sense. They have lost that decisive part which gave point to the story.
I am fully aware of the objection which could be raised against this
view of the original character of some of our fairy tales. It might
be urged with some show of plausibility that the process might have
been an inverse one, that the popular story-teller used a fairy tale
to tack on his moral, that the question of the origin of the bird or
insect was an "after-thought," and did not belong originally to the
tale. Theoretically, such an objection could be urged, and it might
even gain in force if applied to the fairy tales of the West. Andersen,
not to speak of minor poets, would supply a proof of it. But we must
bear in mind that we are dealing with the unsophisticated people,
who would not use the folk-lore material in the manner of the
literary artist. They have no preconceived idea to which a tale
or legend is made artificially to fit. Moreover, these tales and
legends are believed in implicitly. They bear the stamp of their
primitiveness. They do not represent a later degree of development,
such as the parallels from the West often show. The existence side by
side with them of other creation tales of animals is an additional
support of the view that the fairy tales have not been "edited" or
adapted to cosmogonic purposes to explain the origin of beast and bird.
Fairy tales are, as a rule, taken out of the range of the survival
theory. The similarity of fairy tales, so striking among a large
number of nations, precludes the possibility of seeing in them local
survivals, and yet it appears unscientific to separate one section
of oral literature from the other. The line of demarcation between
creation legend and creation fairy tale is so thin that it is often
indistinguishable. Both spring from the same root, and the theory that
endeavours to explain the origin of the one must also be applicable
to the other.
In the theory of survivals, however, no attempt is made to deal at
the same time with the question of origins. It has not yet been made
clear, by any of the more prominent representatives of the theory
of survivals, how the similarity in customs and ceremonies is to
be explained, in tales and fables, between the most diverse nations
living separated from one another. If these survivals represent local
tradition, which has persisted throughout the ages, how, then, does it
come to pass that they should resemble so closely other ceremonies and
customs observed by different nations also as local traditions? Is it
to be inferred that at some distant time, far back in the prehistoric
ages, some such ceremonies were used, that, in spite of evolution
and separation, they have survived everywhere almost unchanged, in
spite of the profound modifications of the nations in their ethnical,
political and religious status? Either they are local inventions,
in which case they could not resemble any other, or they all go back
to one common stock, and have survived in such a miraculous manner
contrary to every law of human nature. The only explanation feasible
and satisfactory is, I believe, the theory of transmission from nation
to nation; those resembling one another closely in modern Europe are
not of so early an age as has hitherto been assumed, but have come at
a certain time from one definite centre, and were propagated among the
nations, and disseminated by means of a great religious movement at
a time when the political and national consolidation of the peoples
of Europe had already assumed a definite shape.
To this conclusion we are forced by the examination of these Rumanian
animal tales in their manifold aspect, "creation" tales, fables, fairy
tales. They are all more or less of comparatively recent origin. They
owe their actual shape to the dualistic teaching of the Manichaeans
and Bogomils. They have come by these intermediaries of the religious
sects from Syria and the Balkans. These tales stopped first among the
nations in the Near East, and then by the same agency were carried to
the extreme West. Only in such wise can we explain the appearance of
these tales--whatever their archaic character may be--among nations
of comparatively recent origin like those now under consideration,
Rumanians, Bulgars, Russians and even Saxons and Hungarians. This
is the only possible explanation of the very remarkable dualistic
character, and of the peculiar teachings embodied in these tales. For,
whatever these nations have in common, there cannot be any question
of survivals, for the reasons advanced above. All the nations are
comparatively modern. It is impossible to assume that what might be
a Latin survival among the Rumanians could be so closely connected
with what might be a Turanian survival among the Bulgars or a
Pelasgian survival among the Albanians. There might be found among
these tales traces of more ancient beliefs, myths and customs, just
as it is possible to find similar traces among the folk-lore of the
nations of the West. But what I contend is that these are not local
survivals--that, whatever their primitive character may be, they
need not originally belong to the nations among whom they are found
now. They were brought by the same movement that brought the tales
and legends, customs and ceremonies. The new and the old were carried
along by the same stream of tradition and religious influence. An
adjustment and readjustment of materials, the placing of layer upon
layer, localisation and assimilation then took place. But these are
rocks swept along by the stream and deposited far away from the place
of origin, or, to take another simile, that of the insect and the
amber. The amber has been carried from the North Sea many centuries
ago, nay, thousands of years ago, along the trade routes from North
to South, and has found its way also to ancient Egypt. Embedded in the
amber we have here and there a North European insect which was caught
at the time when the amber was still a liquid, and, imprisoned in it,
became fossilised, and was carried a long distance. If found, then,
among the beads in the tombs of the ancient Pharaohs, no one could
say that that insect was of Egyptian origin, or that fly a remnant
of the local fauna. It had come thither together with the amber that
carried it, and may have remained there if the amber had decayed.
In the same manner ancient customs, ancient beliefs and ancient
tradition have been caught in the liquid tales, apologues and legends,
like the fly in the amber, and carried along with them from East
to West. In this manner they may perhaps be termed survivals, but
survivals of a different kind than has been assumed hitherto. They have
survived only as long as they were tolerated in the lore of the people.
Hand in hand with dissemination go the assimilation and localisation of
these diverse elements. It is impossible to do more within the compass
of this introduction than merely touch the fringe of a far-reaching
problem which arises from the examination of these peculiar beast and
bird tales. One of the most instructive examples of this religious
syncretism, of the manner in which it has influenced the people, and
the form in which it has been preserved, localised, and assimilated,
among them, is shown to advantage in the stories of the origin of
the Glow-worm and in the stories of the Bee. Some of the cosmogonic
legends of the Rumanians are also found among the Balkan people. They
are a fragmentary reflex of a great conception of the world. If I
may use the mystical and symbolical language of the legends, they are
also sparks from a great light that had fallen down from heaven. The
creation of man, the fall of the angels, are here curiously blended
together. They represent part of the teaching that went under many
names but, in essence, was one. That is, of course, the belief in
the dualism of the creative powers, the good God and the wicked one,
styled Satan.
From these tales and legends, which are derived from well-known
apocryphal writings, we can see how deeply the latter have entered the
life of nations which have not yet fallen under the unifying sway of
strict dogmatism, and how unable the people are to grasp the higher
spiritual interpretations of the dogmas and practices of the Church.
From a purely dogmatic point of view, all these tales are rank heresy;
but who among the simple folk knows the distinction between orthodox
and heretical teaching? The people are more easily disposed towards
a simple philosophy which explains satisfactorily the phenomena of
life. They listen with pleasure to tales of imagination. One of the
fundamental theories of Gnosticism or, rather later, of dualism,
is this peculiar conception of the creation. The world is divided
between the power of light and the power of darkness. The latter is
anxious to participate in the possession of light, and for that reason
steals some, which it breaks up into sparks and covers over with
thick matter so that it may not escape. These sparks are the human
soul deeply embedded in human clay, anxious always to be reunited
with the ancient glory.
In this Gnostic teaching we have the very source of the legend of these
angelic sparks now relegated to glow-worms, originally placed in other
"earthly worms"--the human race. We hear, moreover, the faint echo of
the fall of the angels and of the angels of a lower rank inhabiting
(and ruling) the planets and the stars. We even have the legend, found
in the Book of Enoch, of the angels who fell in love with a woman and
remain upon earth as evil spirits, whilst she is translated to heaven
and becomes a star. The interest lies not only in the fact that these
ancient religious conceptions have been so faithfully preserved among
the people, but also in the manner of their preservation. They have
been adapted to the understanding of the folk, and, from dogmatic
teachings, they have become beautiful popular legends. But the inner
meaning has been entirely lost. The old sparks have been embedded in
very thick clay indeed, as can be seen in the treatment meted out to
God, Christ, the Virgin, the Apostles and Saints. They are greeted
with an apparent lack of reverence and respect that must disturb the
equanimity of people of a Puritanic mind. The gods could not have been
put on a footing of greater familiarity; it almost borders on the
burlesque. Primitive nations show the same apparent want of respect
to their gods, idols or fetishes, and we are inclined to put them on
a lower scale of faith and reverence than the peoples of Europe.
A better knowledge of the life and religion of the peoples in the East
and of the Eastern part of Europe would soon change such a view. In
fact, I believe, that if we could descend to the lower depths of
the masses of Western Europe, and especially of those in Catholic
countries, and get a peep into their innermost soul, we should not find
it very different from that of the Slav and the Rumanian. The Saints
are not treated differently in Spain and in Italy on the one hand, or
in Rumania and in Bulgaria, or even Russia, on the other. They have all
the same essential conditions in common, viz. all have a Pantheon of
Saints of various degrees and of both sexes. In Protestant countries
the people have been impoverished. All the saints have been driven
away; a cold abstract spirituality has taken their place, and yet depth
of fervour and strength of belief cannot be denied to these Eastern
peoples. There is, moreover, a sufficient fund of humour and innate
rectitude to keep them at a certain level of morality and albeit free
from the hypocrisy of the so-called higher civilization. So that, if
the Rumanians take liberties with God and the Church and the Saints,
and pay homage to the Devil by mocking and laughing at the jokes
which God performs for his confusion, it is all done more in the
spirit of good-natured banter, not in that of polemical or fanatical
intolerance. Why should the poor Devil not also occasionally have a
good time? He is always sure to be outwitted in the long run.
I am fully aware of the objection that may be raised against
attributing so much influence to the activity and propaganda of the
heretical sects. It may be argued, that their influence was not in
any way commensurate with the results ascribed to them, that they
did not carry the masses with them to such an extent as to leave
indelible traces on their religious life and popular imagery. Some
may go so far as to look upon their activity as similar to that
of some of the mendicant friars during the Middle Ages. Yet the
mendicant friars were able to exercise a tremendous influence upon
the people and, helped by other political powers, they were able to
create a movement which led up to the Crusades. It seized upon the
masses of Europe with an irresistible force. In a minor, yet no less
effective manner, the same agencies were able to arm the Kings of
France against the Albigenses in Provence. Church history, however,
shows very clearly that the power of the Manichaeans was so great
that it has taken the Church many centuries to bring the fight to a
satisfactory close.--The Cathars (pure) have given the name Ketzer to
the German heretics, and every language in Europe shows traces of this
heretic nomenclature.--The struggle was a terrible and a long one,
and if it had not been for the secular arm which placed itself at
the service of the Church for political reasons, who knows whether
the Romish Church would have come out victorious in the struggle?
The question may be asked, How did it come about, that the teaching
of an obscure sect could be propagated from the Black Sea to the
Atlantic and could win the support of so many peoples? The answer lies
in a fact which has hitherto been entirely ignored. The connection
between Arianism and Manichaeism in Europe has to my mind not yet been
even hinted at; yet there must have been a very close and intimate
one. Arianism, in fact, prepared the ground for the new wave of
heretical teaching which, a few centuries after the former's official
extinction, followed in its wake. No one has, as yet, endeavoured to
trace the effect which the Arian teaching has had in Europe when it
became the national faith of the Goths. In them we have a nation which,
from the third century to the end of the sixth, practically dominated
central Europe. It established more than one kingdom between the Black
Sea and the Atlantic, in Illyricum, in Northern Italy, one of might and
strength in the South of France in Provence, with its headquarters in
Toulouse. It had overflowed into Spain, and broke down only after the
invasion of the Arabs. These Goths are described as rude barbarians,
because they differed in their life, and probably in their original
forms of faith, from the Greeks and the Romans. The modern idea is
that their original home was somewhere in the North-West of Europe,
that they came along the Vistula, and then migrated to the country
between the Don and the Ural.
This is not the place to discuss the question of their original home,
yet the whole history of the migration of the nations shows that
the movement came also from the same direction as that of the other
nations which followed upon one another from east to west, and that
these migrations were prompted by tremendous political changes among
the nations of Central Asia. It is therefore probable that the Goths
migrated from the western shore of the Caspian Sea, somewhere near
Lake Ascanius--hence the confusion--then to the countries between the
Ural and Don, and thence by slow degrees southwards and westwards. This
would explain many obscure points in the migration of the Goths. Be it
as it may, we find them in the second century settled in those very
countries in which we now find the Ruthenians and the Rumanians, and
stretching further into Pannonia. The Goths are said to have adopted
Christianity towards the end of the third century, as it is alleged,
by priests and lay Christians brought as captives from Cappadocia
and other parts of Asia Minor. As early as the Council of Nicæa, 325,
a Gothic bishop is mentioned among the signatories to the decrees. An
outstanding figure of the Gothic Christians was Ulfilas, who, owing
to pressure from the non-converted section of the Goths, crossed the
Danube and settled at the foot of Mount Haemus (the Balkans) in the
middle of the fourth century. He had become converted to the Arian
doctrine, and took part in the Council under the Emperor Valens,
which was held in Constantinople in 358.
Theodosius, who became the Great after his recantation of Arianism,
towards the end of the fourth century, promulgated decree after decree,
one more drastic than the other, for the persecution and extirpation of
this heresy; in fact, he was the very first to establish an inquisition
of faith. The example set by Theodosius was followed afterwards by the
Catholic Emperors and Kings of the West, even down to the Holy Office,
as the Inquisition was afterwards called. But, in spite of this,
Arianism spread among the Goths, and, whatever were their political
vicissitudes, they kept staunch to this peculiar form of Christianity,
the greatest and most powerful enemy of the orthodox and Catholic
Church. They spread eastwards and westwards, partly as vassals of the
Huns and partly acting quite independently under their own kings and
rulers. They overran the Balkan peninsula, destroying every heathen
temple, and not sparing Catholic churches. They then sacked Rome,
entered Gaul, and occupied the South of France, with Toulouse as
the capital. They spread into Burgundy and conquered Spain. It
took many battles and many centuries to break the political power
of the Goths. It was rather the subtle influences of the Catholic
women than religious conviction that brought about the conversion
to Catholicism of the Gothic rulers in Spain and Italy. The Catholic
Church, in the year 507, armed the Frankish King Clovis--who adopted
Catholicism--against the Gothic Arian King Alaric, and thus brought
about the first "crusade" between Catholics and heretics in the country
north of the Pyrenees. A crusade was to be renewed hereafter for a
second time against the Albigenses in the very same country and against
the very same cities. Unfortunately very little is known of the beliefs
and practices of the half-heathen, half-Christian Goths. The fact,
however, remains that they held on to their faith for many centuries
in spite of the official conversion of the leaders. In Burgundy,
Arianism persisted down to the sixth century, and among the Lombards
(merely another tribal name for Goths) in Northern Italy, it persisted
to the eighth century.
Meanwhile, other nations poured into the Balkans. Whether they
entirely annihilated the Goths, or whether they assimilated with
them, will remain a problem unsolved. Very few Gothic words can,
however, be traced among the nations of the Balkans. The Slavs,
probably coming from Pannonia, are first noticed in large numbers in
the fifth and the sixth centuries. The Bulgars from the old haunts
of the Goths near the Volga came in the seventh century. The last
heathen king was Boris, who was converted to Christianity in the
middle of the ninth century. No sooner has Christianity an official
status among the Bulgars than we hear of the heresy of the Bogomils
and Cathars spreading among them to such an extent that they almost
overthrew the orthodox Church. The break between the eastern and
western Churches--between Constantinople and Rome--at the end of the
ninth century also contributed, in a way, to weaken the allegiance
of the faithful to the orthodox Church, and the manner in which the
Orthodox vilified the Catholics must have been quite sufficient to
reconcile the people to heterodox doctrines. Manichaeans and Bogomils
took advantage of the schism and the violence of the two parties to win
the people over to their tenets. Bogomilism in a slightly varied form,
as Cathars and Albigenses, etc., spread henceforth from east to west,
following exactly the same course as that taken by the Goths in their
migration from east to west. The ground had been prepared for them,
the seed had been sown, and the work was made easy for them by the
preceding Arians.
There is one feature in this schismatic movement, the importance
of which cannot be appraised too highly. The Word of God was
taught in the vernacular, the Bible and, along with it, uncanonical
writings, were translated into the vernacular. While the Orthodox and
Catholic Churches kept strictly to Greek and Latin as the language
of Scripture and Service, the Arians no doubt, on the contrary,
allowed the people to pray and to learn in their own language. It
was the outstanding merit of Ulfilas that he translated the Bible
into Gothic. This practice of translating the word of God into the
vernacular remained a distinctive characteristic of the schismatic
Arians and other sectaries. They were thus able to reach the heart
of the people much more easily than the Catholic and Greek clergy,
and to exercise a lasting influence upon the masses, far deeper
than that of the representatives of a creed taught in a foreign
tongue. This also continued to keep the Arian-Goths away from the
Catholic Church for many centuries. The change, which came later on,
was due to two causes--the conversion of the kings and rulers, and,
to a far larger degree than has hitherto been recognised, the loss of
the Teutonic language. The Goths slowly forgot their own language and
adopted that of the nations in whose midst they lived as a minority.
This explains much more satisfactorily than has hitherto been attempted
the mysterious disappearance of the Goths after the official conversion
of Recared in Spain, and the overthrow of Alaric by Clovis in the
beginning of the sixth century in the South of France. In Italy
they kept to their Arianism under the name of Lombards, down to
the eighth century. It must not, however, be assumed that with the
public disappearance of Arianism and that of the Goths as a ruling
nation, the Arian heresy and all that it brought to the people had
also disappeared. That teaching could not easily be uprooted. It was
merely driven underground. The Catholic Church was satisfied with
having obtained an official public victory. Then followed a slow
process of extirpation. The writings of the schismatics were hunted
up and destroyed, and thus the wells of heresy were dried up. The
people were weaned from their errors by the convincing power of sword
and faggot. But so long as these sinners did not belong to the higher
classes, the Church winked at their aberrations, especially when they
kept quiet and were not aggressive in their action.
Thus the fire of heresy smouldered on under the ashes of the
autos-da-fé until it was fanned again into a mighty blaze through the
Cathars and Albigenses. The ground was prepared for their reception by
the Arianism of the Goths, and by the Manichaean propaganda, which had
penetrated into Europe from the West as early as the fourth century.
It is important in this connection to refer, however briefly, to
the Priscillianites in Spain, who flourished from the middle of
the fourth to the second half of the sixth century, close upon two
hundred years. The founder was Priscillianus (d. 385) a man of noble
birth and great achievement. He was a great scholar, and had become
acquainted with Gnostic and Manichaean doctrines. He was accused of
heresy, and was the first Christian who was executed by Christians for
preaching a different form of creed. The accusations made against him
and his followers were precisely the same which were raised centuries
afterwards against the Cathars and Albigenses, and no doubt just
as false. From them we learn, however, that he had apocryphal books
and mystical oriental legends, which he used for his teaching, and
which were believed by his followers. It took two, or close upon three
centuries, before the public traces of Priscillianism disappeared from
Spain and Gaul. The followers, probably, shared the fate of the Gothic
Arians settled in these countries. Then the conquest of Spain by the
Arabs or Moors prevented the Catholic Church from further sifting the
chaff from the grain. No doubt a good number of so-called heretics,
who could not enter the bosom of the Catholic Church, embraced Islam,
just as a good number of prominent Cathars in Dalmatia and Bosnia
preferred to become Mohammedans after the conquest of the country by
the Turks rather than become united with the Orthodox Church. When
the Cathars started their propaganda, they followed, as it were,
in the track of the Goths. They occupy exactly the same tracts of
land as those held for so many centuries by the former, and without
a doubt they found there remnants of the old heresy, popular legends
and beliefs, even tales and mystical as well as mythical songs, all
so many welcome pegs on which to hang their own teaching. It may in a
way have been a kind of revival, in which what had been preserved by
the descendants from the Goths of old was blended with the new matter
brought afresh from the East. Unfortunately--as already remarked--too
little is known of the beliefs and practices of the Goths in their
pagan state and afterwards as Arian Christians. That they, in spite
of being "rude barbarians," had also some theological treatises is
evident from Anathema No. 16 of the Council of Toledo (589), when
Recared forswore his Arianism and became a fervent Catholic. The
anathema runs against "the abominable treatises which we composed to
seduce the provincials into the Arian heresy." Many such compositions,
especially in the vernacular, must be meant here; they all fell under
the ban.
The Cathars followed the same practice and were zealous propagators and
translators of the Bible and Apocrypha into the vernacular. They knew
the Bible so well that in disputations with the Catholic clergy the
latter were easily beaten. Almost every one of the "forbidden" books,
i.e. forbidden by the Orthodox and Catholic Church, was preserved in
old Slavonian (and Rumanian) translations, and some are to be found
this very day among the holy books of the Russian schismatics. Nay,
even the oldest French translation of the Bible was the work of
Albigenses. So much did this affect the Catholic Church that she
excommunicated it, and forbade the people to read the Bible at the
Council of Toulouse in 1229; the Bible in the vernacular having before
been ordered to be burned publicly by the decree of the Church.
No wonder, therefore, at the popularity of these sectaries and
the immense influence they wielded upon the popular mind and
imagination. And if it be true that Arius set forth his religious
views in doggerel rhymes to be sung to popular tunes by the sailors
and labourers, then he initiated a movement which has continued ever
since in religious minstrelsy, and is practised amongst others, by the
Russian blind beggar-minstrels and other popular ballad singers on
festive occasions among the Rumanians and southern Slavs. Nothing,
in fact, could better serve the purpose of propaganda than such
songs. They would appeal at once to the primitive, unlettered nations,
specially amongst those who had such mythological epics of their
own. The rude barbarians would be deeply impressed, and they would very
easily adopt such songs and the teaching they contained. We can then
easily understand a Volsunga Saga or a similar saga originating under
such influences, or moulded in accordance with such new models. Neither
the Orthodox nor the Catholic Church knows of such popular religious
songs of an epic character, filled with the mysteries of the Holy
Writ, much less of any filled with mysteries from the apocryphal and
legendary writings. They have no more than Church hymns sung in the
Church, only on special occasions, together with a certain psalmody
chanted by the officiating clergy. And when these Greek (or Syriac)
hymns were translated into Slavonic or Rumanian, they practically
lost their tune and their inspiration, and they were recited with a
peculiar monotonous cantilation. Quite otherwise were the popular
carols, and the popular epic ballads with a distinctive religious
background and full of wonderful incidents from the life of the
saints. Unlike the former, they are not congregational litanies, but
purely popular songs and ballads, devoid of any official or liturgical
character. This may also explain the origin of the so-called Ambrosian
chant as an attempt on the part of St. Ambrose of Milan to counteract
the other popular chants by introducing, as it were, congregational
singing into the Church. But there it remained, whilst the other
spread and has retained its original popular character. Thus, through
Gothic Arianism, a certain continuity of the dualistic and peculiar
schismatic form of religious teaching has been established.
Moreover, an historic explanation has been found for the origin and
spread of these doctrines, tales and fables. Put to the test, these
beast tales yield a dogmatic system which approximates in many points
to such heterodox teaching. The old Ebionite conception of Jesus,
taken up by Arius and afterwards adopted by the Manichaeans, sees in
him only a deified human being, and very little more can be found in
these tales. Jesus is seldom mentioned, and even then is more like
a deified all-powerful human being. God Himself is often treated as
a simple human being, almost like the Ialdabaoth of the Gnostics or
the inferior God of the Manichaean doctrine. With this, agrees also
the notion of the dualism in the creation of the world, i.e. that the
evil creatures, wolves, poisonous snakes, etc., are the work of the
Evil One. This was also the view held by the Priscillianites. There
seem to be, also, reminiscences of such myths as "the world tree,"
the wolf, etc., which are found in Teutonic mythology and which
may also be of an Oriental origin. The Rumanian tales are almost a
running commentary on Grimm's German Mythology (Germ. 4th ed. 1876,
ch. xxiii. pp. 539-581), which ought to be read in conjunction with
the present volume. The legend of the Cuckoo, the hoopoe referred to
by Grimm, can be read here under No. 43.
It is significant that there is not a trace of Mariolatry in these
tales and fables. If anything, St. Mary appears in a character far
from loveable. She is easily offended, she does not spare her curses,
she takes umbrage easily at the slightest mishap. She is altogether
very disagreeable, just as in the apocryphal literature, where there
is not much room for her. Her intercession is invoked only in some
Rumanian charms and spells in a peculiar stereotyped form. But of real
worship there is scarcely any trace. Quite different is the position
which the Catholic Church assigned afterwards to St. Mary. She has
become there second to none outside the Trinity.
More prominently almost than any of these points, stands out the fact
that, underlying these creation and other tales, is the belief in the
transmigration of the human soul into an animal body--the well-known
belief in Metempsychosis, or change of human beings into animals,
so important a feature of Manichaean teaching, in which all the
heretical sects seem to have shared.
It is impossible now to follow this question further. I am satisfied
to have indicated the rôle which the Goths may have played in the
preparation for the dissemination of special myths and legends,
branded as heretical, which other sectaries had brought from the East
and propagated in the West of Europe.
As to possible ethnical and geographical continuity, it may be
remarked that the places where these tales are found were also the
homesteads of the Goths, in which they dwelt for at least two or
three hundred years. They were then after a short interval almost
supplanted by the Slavs. It is a moot point how long the Rumanians
have dwelt there, and when they were converted to Christianity. Not
a single old Teutonic word has hitherto been found in the Rumanian
language. Any direct contact or convivium of any length of time is
thus excluded. The tales may have been remnants carried along from
Illyricum across the Danube by the new missionaries of the dualistic
doctrine. The problem would be less intricate if we only knew anything
definite about Gothic heathen and Christian mythology.
With the Cathars and Bogomils we are on more solid ground. This
new stream of similar traditions was brought by a similar religious
movement and was propagated by identical means--viz. writings and
songs in the language of the people, legends and tales and a simple
creed understood by all.
It may be asked, if this theory is correct, if these tales and legends
were brought first into Thrace and then spread from that country to
the other nations, how does it come to pass that so few traces of
them can be found in Greek folk-lore? Paradoxical as it may sound,
the absence of such creation and other legends and tales from the
Greek folk-lore is, if anything, a further proof of the accuracy of the
theory advanced. It must be remembered that there was no more ruthless
persecution of ancient paganism, idolatry, ceremonies and legends than
that carried out by the Greek Church against anything that reminded
them of the Hellenic or pagan past. Nothing was spared, neither
shrines nor books. The Greek's subtle mind devised the first thorough
system of heresy-hunting and persecution. It ranged from polemical
and harmless dialogues to the handing over of the so-called heretics
to fire and sword. The secular power was there more than anywhere
else the representative of the religious power, and justified its
existence, as it were, only as the executor of the Church's mandate.
One has only to read about the innumerable decrees of councils and
synods, to see the way in which Manichaeism, Arianism and Gnosticism
in every shape and form were mercilessly uprooted, and to understand
that this fight did not stop at Bogomilism. The polemics were carried
out even down to the time of Eutemios Zygabenos and even the Emperors
on the throne of Byzance did not consider it below their dignity
to combat heretical teaching, the followers of which were given no
pardon. There was also another factor which militated against the
success of the Gnostic teaching--the literary past of the Greeks. To
the circulation of apocryphal books and legendary tales, the Greeks
were able to oppose a vast literary array. In Greece the Bogomils did
not deal with simple-minded, illiterate folk at the beginning of whose
literature they stood; on the contrary, they had to fight against
an ancient influential literature, and against minds trained in the
subtlest dialectics. They could not, therefore, succeed so easily,
if at all.
Quite different were the conditions of the other nations with which
they came in contact. None of these had yet more than the very
beginnings of a literature. They were rude, simple-minded folk,
and wherever the Greek Church or Greek Emperors did not wield any
influence at all, as it happened in the Bulgaro-Vallachian kingdom
established by Peter and Asan (1185 to 1257), the Bogomils had an easy
task. For centuries, then, the Rumanians formed with the Bulgarians not
only a religious, but also a political unity. The Bulgaro-Vallachian
kingdom stretched from the Haemus to the Carpathians, and down to the
end of the seventeenth century Slavonic was the official language of
State and Church in Rumania. There could not have been a more close
intimacy than between these two nations, despite the difference of the
language which each of them spoke. They had their literature in common,
and no doubt shared the same traditions. Bogomilism was just as rife
in Vallachia as it was in Bulgaria. Even the written literature of
Rumania shows how profound its influence has been: still more so does
the oral literature of tales and legends, of fables and beliefs. Though
the Bogomils did not bring Christianity to these peoples, for they were
Christians, they brought at any rate a kind of religion to the mass of
the folk. It was one of their own making and in their own image. It
was clothed in beautiful tales, and answered the expectations of the
rank and file, satisfied their curiosity, and gave them a glimpse of
the moral beauty underlying the work of creation. In a way, it tended
to purify the heart and to elevate the soul by allegories, parables
and apologues, and thus it found ready acceptance, and struck deep
root in the heart of the people, unaffected by decrees of Councils
and by the fanatical intolerance of the established Church.
Not so successful, therefore, if successful at all, was the fight
of the Greek Church against the heretical sects even in the Balkan
Peninsula, where they were so numerous and so powerful. They persisted
down to the time of the capture of Constantinople and the Turkish
rule. A large number of the aristocracy in Bosnia and Dalmatia
still adhered to the teaching of the Cathars, and when the Turks
occupied the country in the sixteenth century, the majority of them
embraced Islam, instead of entering either the Catholic or the Greek
Church. A whole mass of apocryphal and spurious literature placed
on the Index, has been preserved in Slavonic and Rumanian texts
with outspoken dualistic views. Many of them have found their way
into the Lucidaria, or "Questions and Answers," a kind of catechism,
very popular among the nations of the Balkans, the Rumanians and the
Russians. Similar Lucidaria were known in the West, but there they have
been thoroughly expurgated, whilst, in the above-mentioned "questions,"
many an answer is found to which no orthodox Church would subscribe,
but which form now a popular living belief among these nations. The
political lethargy which settled upon most of these nations after
the Turkish conquest created a happy brooding-place for such tales,
and thus it can easily be understood why they have lived to this very
day practically undisturbed and little changed.
To those who have followed the history of the religious development
of the Russians, it will therefore not be surprising to find among
their popular tales a number of variants closely allied to the
Rumanian animal tales, and, what is of the utmost importance in
this connection, not a few of the "creation" tales. No country
perhaps has been so much torn by religious discussions and sects
as Russia. The number of sects is legion. The most extraordinary
notions, extreme views on dogma and practice, heterodox principles
expressed in worship, belief and popular song or tale are all found
in Russia: unadulterated Dualism, Bogomilism, Manichaean teaching are
openly professed by a number of the sects persecuted and condemned
by the Orthodox Church. Almost all the books condemned as heretical
in the early Indices Expurgatoria put forth by Councils and Church
Assemblies, have been preserved almost intact in the old Slavonic
and Russian language, and the religious and epic songs of the "blind"
minstrels of Russia are full of the legendary lore of those heterodox
sects. This fact has been established beyond doubt by the researches
of Russian scholars, and notably by Wesselofsky. Among the Russians,
then, we find the nearest parallels to the Rumanian "creation"
stories; a clear evidence of common origin, both drawing upon the
same source of information; the religious in the form of apologues,
legends and tales, so prominent a feature of heterodox propaganda.
The weapons used by the Catholic Church in its persecution of
heretical sects are, almost every one of them, borrowed from the
Greek armoury. One learns to know this fact more and more from a
closer enquiry into the inner history of Byzance, its laws, decrees,
administration and practice. And, precisely the same influence
destroyed later the heretical teaching in the West as it destroyed it
among the Greeks. The power of the Church and the secular arm were
both used ruthlessly for exterminating any idea or any belief that
ran counter to the doctrines taught by the established Church. The
Cathars had also a much more difficult task in converting the East of
Europe, inasmuch as they were also confronted there by some amount of
literary tradition. Illiterate as were the masses, there were still
among them and among their clerics, men of ability, men of learning,
men trained in the scholastic schools, able, if not to refute, at
any rate to confuse, the strange doctrine.
All these forces combined, produced in the East the same result
as they have produced among the Greeks. We are thus on the track
of one of the most important sources of Western European folk-lore,
always remembering that the medium in which this propaganda flourished
differed considerably in the West from that in the East. In the former
such propaganda met with a more ancient layer of well-established
literary tradition. The Catholic Church, as mentioned above, was first
in possession. It was not a tabula rasa on which the new teaching
could be written, but yet that which existed was profoundly modified
and a new fund of highly poetic yet popular material was added to the
small store of knowledge possessed by the common people. But in time
the Church took up the challenge, and remorselessly hunted down the
apostles of popular heterodox teaching, just as the Greeks had done,
going even further. It punished with sword and fire the followers of
unauthorised practices, and branded every deviation from the strait
path as rank heresy. The books containing legends and tales were burnt,
and their possessors were often treated in like fashion.
Inquisition, Church and other influences helped, as already mentioned,
to destroy them. In the tragedy of heresy-hunting and burning
of witches, the charge of devil worship was the basic principle,
the chief head of accusation. It was clearly devised against the
followers of the dualistic teaching. To tell a tale like any of these
Rumanian "creation" tales, would have been inviting the heaviest
punishment--to believe in it would have meant sure death. No wonder
that they disappeared quickly, or were changed into harmless satires,
as in the Reynard Cycle, or were even used for political cartoons,
in broadsides, like the Cock Robin Cycle in the time of Charles II.,
which, when transplanted to Russia, became a political lampoon on
Peter and his Court.
Heresy-hunting becomes a popular distraction only when the official
clergy find it profitable to make it so, and when the people are made
to trace their own ills and troubles, their losses in field and stable,
to the evil machinations of these tools of the devil. So long as they
are not suffering in body or purse, the folk are absolutely indifferent
to dogmas, and they will eagerly accept anything that pleases them. It
will therefore not come as a surprise, in view of what has been stated,
if we find some weird conceptions among the Rumanian peasantry.
Studied from the point of view of heresiology or rather of popular
psychology, some of these tales will appear to us as so many living
records of the great spiritual movement, which for centuries dominated
Europe, and which has since died out.
Too little attention has been given hitherto to the influence of those
numerous sects, which stretched from Asia Minor to the south of France,
and overflowed even into England. Their dualism, the strong belief
in the Power of Evil, Satan and his host, the consequent duty of the
faithful to banish him or to subdue him, thus developed into belief in
sorcery and witchcraft, with the attending horrors of the Inquisition.
Then came a period of wider education still less tolerant of old
women's superstition and nursery tales. What was left still standing
has been, and is being, finally destroyed by our modern schools and
schoolmasters. From this dire fate, the folk-lore of the nearer East
has as yet been preserved. The importance of the study of folk-lore
has happily been recognised in those countries, early enough to stop
the blight which had set in and which threatened to destroy it more
ruthlessly than even in the West. The modern "man of science" is a
more relentless iconoclast than the religious fanatic. He starts
from the mind in his attempt to destroy folk-lore, using to this
end cold reasoning, logical conclusions, spiritual prepossession
and intolerance. The religious fanatic starts from the heart, with
overwhelming passion, fiery zeal, unreasoning hatred, from which
there is a possible escape for mysticism and mythical lore, whilst
from the former there is none. Happily, our science of folk-lore with
its deep sympathy and profound appreciation of these manifestations
of the popular psyche has come in the nick of time to rescue from
total extinction what the schoolmaster and the heresy-hunter have
not yet annihilated.
I turn now to another aspect of these bird and beast tales. If, as I
believe, they show us what is at the back of the mind of the people,
they are of invaluable service to the student of anthropology, above
all to him who seeks enlightenment in the grave problems of education
and civilization; and they are not without importance for the solution
of political problems.
Attempts are made--well meant, no doubt--to foist that state of culture
which the West calls "modern civilization," or "civilization" pure
and simple, upon the reluctant people of the Near and Far East. We
are forgetful of the fact that these nations have had a civilization
of their own, and that something more important is included in this
forcible change than the change of a dress.
As the outcome of a long-drawn battle between feudalism and modern
society, as a result of political and economic evolutions, the
civilization of the West, when introduced among nations that have not
gone through the same experience, acts like the Juggernaut car, which
crushes under its wheels the worshippers of this new god and destroys
at the same time the foundations of the old order of things. Only
students of folk-lore, those who try to reach the hidden depths, nay,
to penetrate the inner soul of the people, are in a position to judge
of the results of these civilizing attempts. They can compare the past
with the present, and draw a proper balance between gain and loss. Are
the people happier, more contented, more moral, and even more religious
after the change, than they were before it? Surely not. And if not,
why not? The answer is very simple: because in this violent change no
tenderness is shown to those beliefs and practices which are dear to
the people and which help to lighten the burden of life by innocent
mirth and the wholesome play of fancy. Wire brooms may sweep well; but
they may do it too well, and they can sweep everything away, leaving
the home bare and the gardens stripped of every leaf and flower.
A few words concerning the order and grouping of these tales. They
have been arranged in three main groups. The first comprises those
tales which I have characterised as creation legends. In them the
origin of birds, beasts and insects is explained as the result of
some direct act of God, or the Saints, or the Devil. An attempt has
been made to follow a certain chronological order. Those tales stand
first in which God is acting at the beginning of the creation. Then,
following the Biblical order, the legends connected with the persons
of sacred history from Adam to the Apostles, including St. Mary
and St. Anne. Mystical Christmas carols or rather epic ballads,
in which similar subjects are treated, have been inserted between
the legends. The second section comprises such legends as are more
like fairy tales. The mythical personages are no longer those known
through the Scriptures. On the contrary, there are in these tales
reminiscences of ancient heathen gods and heroes, chief among them
being Alexander the Great.
In the third section the animal fables are grouped together. It
is the literature of the apologues without any framework or moral
setting. The parallels, as far as could be found, are given briefly at
the end of each legend, tale or fable. I have striven to be concise in
my references to the best-known collections of tales, such as Grimm,
Hahn, Cosquin, and Gonzenbach, where the student of fairy tales can
easily find the whole comparative literature.
For the genuine and unadulterated popular origin of these tales I
can vouch absolutely. Some I have heard in my early youth, but the
majority have been culled from the works of S. Fl. Marian (Ornitologia
poporana Româna, 2 vols., Cernauti 1883; and Insectele, Bucharest
1903), than whom a more painstaking trustworthy collector could
not be imagined. Some have been taken from the Folk-lore reviews,
Sezatoarea, ed. by A. Gorovei (i.-xii., Falticeni 1892 to 1912),
and Ion Creanga, published by the Society of that name (i.-viii.,
Barlad 1908-1915). Anton Pann (Poveste si istoriaire, Bucharest 1836)
has given us a few stories, as well as A. and A. Schott (Walachische
Maehrchen, Stuttgart and Tübingen 1845). The Pilgrimage of the Soul is
from S. Mangiuca, Calindariu, pe. 1882, Brasiovu 1881 and the Story
of Man and his Years, No. 113, from M. Gaster, Chrestomatie Romana,
vol. ii., Bucharest 1891. These tales have been collected from every
country where Rumanians live, not only in the Kingdom of Rumania,
but also from the Rumanians of Transylvania and Bukovina, as well as
from the Kutzo-Vlachs of Macedonia.
I have added a few charms and also a few more mystical religious
songs and carols, which throw light on some of the beliefs underlying
the tales and legends, taken mostly from the great collection of
G. Dem. Teodorescu (Poesii Popularare Romane, Bucharest 1885).
In some cases I have given also variants of the same tale.
I have endeavoured to render the stories as faithfully as the spirit
of the Rumanian and English languages allows, and I fear that I have
on sundry occasions forced the latter in my desire to preserve as far
as possible the quaintness and the flavour of the Rumanian original.
There is one characteristic feature in the collection of animal tales
and legends given here, upon which I should like to lay great stress,
and that is the complete purity which pervades them all. There is
no playing with moral principles. No double meaning is attached to
any story: and this, to my mind, is the best proof of their popular
origin. These tales are not sullied by a morbid imagination, nor
contaminated by sexual problems. The people are pure at heart and in
the stories their simplicity and purity appear most beautifully.
In these tales and legends we have syncretism in full swing. It is
not a picture of the past which we have to piece laboriously together
from half-forgotten records, from writing half obliterated by the
action of time and by changes which have swept over those nations of
the past, whose life and thought we are endeavouring to conjure up
and to understand. In our midst, at our door, under our own eyes,
this process of mixing and adjusting, of change and evolution, of
differentiation, combination and assimilation is still going on. It
is a wonderful picture for any one who is able to discover the forces
that are at work, who can trace every strand of the webbing, every
thread in the woof and warp, to its immediate and to its remoter
source. We see the shuttle of human imagination, of human belief,
flying busily through the loom, charged at one time with one thread,
at another with a different one. Many of the ways of the human mind
meet here, cross one another, and new roads are thus created by busy
wayfarers. And thus paganism sustains a busy and robust life. The old
Pantheon is still peopled with the old gods, or, shall we better say,
the Pandaemonium in its highest and best sense is displaying itself
with unexpected vigour. The heathen gods, the Christian saints, God and
the devil legends, fairy tales, oriental imagery, mystical traditions
and astrological lore are all inextricably blended together. The line
of demarcation between man and animal has not been clearly drawn, or
it has not yet been attempted. These multifarious elements have not
yet been combined into one homogeneous structure. The problem arises
whether other nations have also passed through a similar mental and
psychical process; whether they have had a similar Pandaemonic mixture,
out of which their more colourless folk-lore had been distilled in
the crucible of "civilization."
Primitive people can often hear the footfall of men by putting the
ear to the ground. We may, by putting an ear to the ground, hear the
footfalls of the Past, and listen to the echo before it dies away
into eternity.
BIRD AND BEAST STORIES
I.
WHY IS THE BEE BLACK, AND WHY IS IT MAKING HONEY? HOW DID THE BEE
OUTWIT THE DEVIL?
In the beginning only water and God and the devil existed. These two
were all the time moving about upon the surface of the waters. After
some time God, feeling rather tired of this flitting about without
rest or peace, said to the devil, "Go down to the bottom of the sea
and bring up in my name a handful of the seed of the earth." The devil
did as he was told, but whilst he was plunging in the depths he said
to himself, "Why shall I bring up the seed in his name? I will take
it in my own." And so he did. When he came up God asked him, "Hast
thou brought the seed?" The devil replied, "Yes, here it is." But
when he opened his hand to show the seed to God, lo, it was quite
empty. The water had wasted the seed away.
Then God told him to plunge again and bring up the seed of the earth
in his name. The devil, however, again took the seed from the bottom
of the sea in his own name, and when he opened his hand to give
the seed to God the waters had again washed his hand clean. For a
third time God sent him down to the bottom of the sea to bring up
seed. This time the devil bethought himself, and instead of taking
the seed in his own name as he had determined, now took it in God's
name and in his own. He would not do it in God's name alone. When he
came up the waters had this time also washed everything away that he
had taken in his hand. Only a few grains, however, remained under the
nails of his fingers. God asked him whether he had brought the seed
up, and he replied "To be sure." But when he opened his hand it was
again empty. Still, there were the few grains which had stuck under
the nails. God greatly rejoiced at these few, which he carefully
scraped out from under the nails, and made of them a small cake
which he put upon the water, where it floated, and God sat upon it
to rest. Being now very tired, God fell asleep on that little cake
of earth. When the devil saw God fast asleep, what did the unclean
one think? "What a lucky thing that is for me," he said to himself,
"I can now drown him." And so he tried to turn the cake over, so
that God should fall into the water. But what happened? In whatever
direction God rolled, the cake of earth expanded and stretched
under him. He first rolled him towards the east, and the earth grew
under God. The devil then tried to upset the cake towards the west,
and again the earth stretched under God. Now, said the devil, "Now
there is also room for me to rest," and he sat down on the opposite
side where the earth had grown bigger. There again he endeavoured
with all his weight to press down the earth, so as to make the earth
turn turtle, once towards the north, once towards the south; and God
rolled towards them and the earth grew in all directions.
Now by this continual rolling the earth grew so big that it became
wider and larger than the waters. When God awoke and saw what the
devil had done he did not know what to do with this huge earth,
which had become far too big. The devil, seeing what he had done,
and being afraid of God's wrath, ran away and hid himself in one of
the clefts of the earth. God then decided to ask the devil what he
was to do with this earth, which had become so big.
Now, of all the beasts and creatures which God had made, none was more
pleasing in his sight than the bee, which was then playing in Paradise.
The bee was white, and not black as she is now, and I will tell you
presently how it came about that she changed her colour.
God sent the bee to ask the devil what he was to do and what good
advice he could give him. The bee, at once, went as she was commanded,
and came to the place where the devil lived.
"Good morning, uncle," said the bee.
"Good morning, sister," said the devil. "What has brought thee to me?"
"Well, you see, God has sent me to ask what he was to do with this
huge earth."
But the devil grumpily and sneeringly replied, "If he is God he ought
to know better than to ask a poor devil for advice. I am not going
to tell him. Let him find it out for himself."
The bee, who was a clever little thing--it was not for nothing that
God's choice had fallen upon her--pretended to fly away. But she soon
crept back quite stealthily and settled noiselessly on the upper
beam of the door. She knew that the devil cannot keep any secrets,
and he would surely speak out. So, indeed, it happened. No sooner
did he believe himself alone, than he started muttering to himself,
chuckling all the time.
"A clever man that God really is. He asks me what to do. Why does
he not think of mountains and valleys?" You must know that the earth
when first made was quite flat, like a pancake.
"Let him take the earth in his arms and squeeze it a bit, and it will
fit all right."
The bee overheard what he said, for he spoke loud enough, and rejoicing
that she had got the answer, spread out her wings and started flying
away. The buzzing of her wings betrayed her, and the devil, hearing
the noise, rushed out of his cave with his whip in his hand and said:
"O you thief! So that is the way you have cheated me. Mayst thou feed
on what comes out of thy body." And he struck the bee with his whip.
This changed her white colour into black. Moreover, he hit her so
badly that he nearly cut her in two. That is why the bee has such
a narrow waist, that she looks as if she were cut in two and barely
hanging together by a thread.
Limping and sore, the bee came back to God and told him what she
had overheard from the devil. God was greatly pleased and, squeezing
the earth in his arms, he made mountains and valleys, and the earth
grew smaller.
Then turning to the bee he said, "Out of thy body henceforth shall
come only honey to sweeten the life of man and he shall bless thee for
that gift; also shalt thou bring forth wax for candles on the altar."
And God went on to ask the bee what reward she would claim for the
errand which she had so well fulfilled. The bee, impudent and greedy,
replied: "Why should man share in my gift and have my honey? Give me
the power to kill with my sting."
And God was angry at the impudence of the bee, and replied: "All the
honey shall be thine alone, if thou art able to make a gallon of it
during the summer: if not, man may share it with thee. And because
thou hast asked for the power of killing with thy sting, meaning to
kill man by it, thine own death shall be by thy sting."
This is the reason why the bees work so industriously and indefatigably
during the summer. Each hopes to make a gallon of honey, but they can
never succeed. And this, too, is the reason why the bee dies when it
stings anyone.
There is another variant of the cosmogonic part.
The place of the devil is taken by the mole [1] whom the Rumanians
believe to be a very deep fellow.
The story then runs as follows:
When God had made the heavens there was as yet no earth. So God took
a ball of string and measured the span of heaven. Then he called
the mole and told him to keep the ball whilst he was busy making the
earth, according to the measure which he had taken. But whilst God
went on measuring by the string which he had rolled off the ball,
the mole very slyly let the ball roll on whilst God was tugging at
the string. And so it came to pass that the earth made thus by God
was larger than the span of heaven, and could not be got under it.
The mole, seeing what he had done, went away and hid himself in his
earth. Hither the bee was sent to get the secret from him how the
earth could be made smaller.
The story then runs on like the one just told, without the explanation
of the dark colour and of the narrow waist. Nor is any reference made
in that version to the sting and the gallon of honey.
The dualistic conception of the creation of the world is here clearly
set out. The people believe in it. In the formation of the earth the
devil has his full, nay an equal share, though he always is fooled
in the end and is cheated even by a little bee.
To this creation story a few variants can be found among the
Bulgarians and Letts, but they are neither so full nor so complete
as the Rumanian version.
They are given by Dähnhardt, Natursagen, i. pp. 127-128 (Leipzig and
Berlin 1907). The first part of the story of the devil being sent
down to bring up seed from the bottom, and only that part, is found
among the Gipsy tales from Transylvania, published by Wlislocki,
Zigeuner-märchen aus Transylvania, p. 1, No. 1.
Among the Russians, Ralston gives a short variant in which only God
and the devil are mentioned, nothing of the bee, and even the first
part is extremely short. (Russian Folk Tales, p. 329, London 1873.)
The existence of hills is accounted for by legendary lore in this
wise. When the Lord was about to fashion the face of the earth he
ordered the devil to dive into the watery depths and bring thence
a handful of the soil he found at the bottom. The devil obeyed,
but when he filled his hand he filled his mouth also. The Lord
took the soil, sprinkled it around, and the earth appeared, all
perfectly flat. The devil, whose mouth was quite full, looked on
for some time in silence. At last he tried to speak, but choked,
and fled in terror. After him followed the thunder and lightning,
and so he rushed over the whole face of the earth, hills springing
up where he coughed, and sky-cleaving mountains where he leaped.
I. B.
HOW DID THE BEE OUTWIT THE MOLE?
Another Version.
When the Lord made the heavens he took a ball and spanned the heavens,
and after he had finished spanning the heavens he started making
the earth. The mole, cunning little beast, came to him and said:
"O Lord, let me help thee in making the earth"; and the Lord, who is
always good, said in the goodness of his heart: "Very well," and he
gave the ball to the mole to keep it.
The Lord started working, and was busy weaving and working making
the earth. But the sly mole let just a little bit of the thread go
from time to time, and the Lord worked on without noticing it. When
he had finished, how great was his astonishment when he found that
the earth was greater than the heavens. What was he to do? how could
he fit them together? He turned to the mole, but the mole was not
there; he knew what was coming and had buried himself deep down in
the earth. So the Lord walked up and down the earth, but could not
find him. What was he to do? At last he sent the bee to discover the
mole and to find out from him what was to be done. The bee flew away
alone, and, buzzing about, at last came to the hole where the mole
was sitting buried in the earth.
The bee came to him and said, "Good morning, uncle."
"What brings thee to me, my sister?"
"Well," she said, "the Lord God has sent me to ask thee what is to
be done. The earth is so big and the heavens so small."
The mole, a sly beast, chuckled and said to himself, "The Lord ought
to know better than I. I am not going to tell him, though I know what
ought to be done."
The bee would not take this answer. She pretended to fly away, and
then went stealthily and settled herself in a flower which was near
to the mole's burrow. She knew that the mole would talk to himself,
and hoped to overhear what he would say.
So in sooth it happened. The bee overheard him chuckling and laughing
and saying to himself: "Oh what a clever fellow I am! if I had to
do it, I would take the earth in my arms and squeeze it tightly,
and then mountains would be pressed out and valleys would be sunk,
and then the earth would get small enough to fit under the heavens."
No sooner had the bee heard what the mole had said, than she started
flying away. The mole, who heard her buzzing, ran after her and said:
"O sister, is that the way thou art dealing with me? Very well then,
now take my curse. Henceforth thou shalt feed on thyself."
But the bee never listened, and flew straight to the Lord and told
him what she had heard when the mole muttered to himself. And the
Lord took the earth in his hands and squeezed it, and from the flat
that it was, mountains rose up and valleys were cut, and it fitted
the heavens which God had spanned. And God, hearing of the curse with
which the mole has cursed the bee, turned it into a blessing. That is
why the bee makes honey and feeds on itself, whilst the mole always
lives underground and is frightened to see the sky.
II.
WHY IS THE BEE BUSY AND THE SPIDER SULLEN?
The Story of the Widow and her two Children.
There is still another story about the origin of the bee, totally
different from those told hitherto.
Once upon a time there lived a very poor widow. She had only two
children, a son and a daughter. When they had grown up, seeing that
their mother could no longer provide for them, they left her house
and went each one his or her way to find work. The girl went to a
place where they were building houses, and there she worked day and
night carrying bricks and mortar to the builders. The son went to a
weaver and learnt there to weave clothes.
Not long after that, the mother grew very ill, and knowing that her
end was approaching, she sent for her children to come to her. When
the message reached the daughter, she was carrying a heavy load of
bricks in her apron.
She did not hesitate for a moment, and saying, "I must not leave my
poor mother alone," she dropped the load of bricks and ran home as fast
as she could, and there she found her mother on the point of death.
When the message reached the son, he was sitting at his weaving. He
said, "Let her die. I cannot give up my work. Here I am, and here
I stay."
And there he stayed quite alone, working away, surly and grumbling
all the time.
When the mother saw her daughter, who had left everything and had
come to her, she raised herself on her bed and, kissing her on the
forehead, blessed her, saying: "Daughter, thou hast been sweet to me
and a joy in my last hour. Mayst thou always be sweet to all."
When she heard what her son had said, and why he had not come, she
cursed him and said: "As thou hast said so shall it go with thee. Day
and night shalt thou be weaving incessantly and never see the joy of
it: what thou doest, others shall destroy. In a corner shalt thou sit,
far away from everybody, and hated by everybody."
And with these words she died, and her blessing and curse both came
true. The girl was changed into the busy active bee, whose honey
sweetens everything, and of whose wax candles are made to be lit before
the ikons of the saints and in the churches, and put by the head of
the dying and the dead. The brother was changed into the spider, who
sits alone and sullen and spiteful in the corner and weaves his webs,
never finishing: whoever sees a web brushes it away, and whoever can,
kills the spider.
To this story I have not been able to find a parallel. A different
kind of curse seems to rest on the spider, according to the legend
of the "Lady Mary and the Spider," No. 54.
III.
WHY IS THE BEE BLACK, AND WHY HAS IT A NARROW WAIST?
The Story of the Bee and the Devil.
When God created the bee she was white of colour, hence her name
albina, the white one. One day, however, God sent the bee to the
Evil One to ask him for his advice, whether God should make one
sun or several. The bee went to the Evil One and told him God's
message. Then she slyly hid herself in his bushy hair, for the bee
knew that he would talk to himself aloud, and she would be able to
find out his true thought. And so it happened: for no sooner did he
think that the bee was not within earshot, than he started talking
aloud to himself and said:
"One sun is better than a number of suns, for if there were a number
of suns the heat would be much greater than my fire and I should not
be able to torture and to burn. Then, too, if there were several suns,
they would shine all day and all night, and the people would not be
able to fall into my power. One sun would be best."
When the bee had heard his reasoning and the conclusion to which he
had come, she started flying back to God. As she started, the Evil One
heard her buzz and, filled with anger at the trick which the bee had
played him, he struck her across the body with his whip. The white
colour was then turned black and the body of the bee nearly cut in
twain. The waist became as thin as a thread. In the beginning it was
white, and hence the name. It is due to the merit of the bee that
there is only one sun now in the heavens and not many.
In the Bulgarian parallel it is not a question as to how many suns
were to be created but whether the sun is to get married. The story is
as follows (Dähnhardt, Natursagen, Leipzig u. Berlin 1907, i. p. 127):
When God grew old he wanted to marry the sun. He invited all the
creatures. Among them also the devil, but he saddled his ass and rode
away angrily. Then God sent the bee to find out the thought of the
devil. The bee settled on his head and heard him mumble to himself:
"Oh yes, it is a long time since God had remembered me, who helped
him in the making of the world, but he does not know what he is
doing now. If he marries the sun he will destroy mankind and burn up
the world."
The bee heard it, and flying away went to God. The devil noticed her
and, thinking that she had overheard what he was saying, wanted to
kill her. He ran after her and shot at her. The bee hid herself in a
willow tree. After trying many times, he at last hit her and cut her
in two. With difficulty she reached God and told him what had happened.
The Lord blessed her and said, "The lower part shall be thy best
and the upper part may remain as it is;" and he joined the two parts
together. God thereupon stopped the wedding, and the sun has remained
an unmarried maiden to this very day, whilst the bee is making honey
even now.
The story of the marriage of the sun does not concern us here. In
a different form it occurs in Rumanian Fairy Tales, where we are
told that sun and moon were a brother and sister. They wished to woo
one another, but God forbade it, and therefore God put them in the
heavens and changed them into sun and moon, which never meet. When
one rises the other sets. (L. Saineanu, Basmele Române, Bucur 1895,
p. 398.) Other mythical references to sun and moon, and the way in
which the devil tries to steal them from Paradise, will be found in
the Carol given below, No. 15.
IV.
WHY DOES THE LITTLE WORM GLOW?
The Story of the Fallen Angel and the Maiden.
When God had created the world, men multiplied. There were then towns
and hamlets and gardens and fields. So one day a band of angels came
to the Lord and said: "O Lord, let us see the world which we now see
only from afar. Grant us in thy infinite mercy that we may go down
and see it more closely."
And the Lord in his infinite love granted their request, although he
who knows everything knew what would happen to them hereafter. And
the angels came down and mixed with the men and women and rejoiced at
everything they saw. After a time God Almighty came down to them and
told them that the time for their return to heaven had come. The angels
gathered together in a joyful band and went up to heaven. But there was
one angel who did not share in their joy. He walked sadly and alone.
God asked every one of the angels what they had seen. And one told
him of the flowers and their sweet smell, and another one told of the
fruit and a third of the singing birds. Everyone had a pleasant tale to
tell. When the turn came of that angel who was walking sadly in that
joyful company, the Lord asked him whether he had anything to tell,
and whether he would like to return to heaven as his companions did,
to which he replied that he would prefer to remain on earth, for he
would not like to go back to heaven. And the good God asked him why
he was so sad and why he would prefer to remain in this world. The
angel hesitated for a while, and then he said that he had looked too
far into the eyes of a girl, eyes which were as the blue of heaven,
and he could not bear to go away from her. And the Lord asked who
she was, and the angel replied, "A shepherdess feeding her flock on
a mountain." And the Lord asked him, "Hast thou spoken to her?" and
he said, "I could not forbear doing so." And the Lord asked him,
"What didst thou tell her?" and he replied, "I said I would forego
my angelic station rather than leave her."
The Lord, who had up till then looked very young, suddenly turned
very old and careworn, and, after looking at him for a long time,
walked on slowly and silently with the band of angels. When they
reached the Gates of Heaven the Lord stopped short and, turning to
the angels, said:
"You can no longer enter the heavenly abode. You are bringing
tidings of the ways of the world which must not be heard by the other
angels. And as you liked the world, you shall continue to look at the
soul's doings." Thereupon the Lord changed the angels and made them
into stars, which he scattered all over the heavens, and from there
they smile joyfully and kindly upon the earth.
But the angel who wished to return did not turn into a pleasant,
twinkling little star. He turned into a fiery star that, always
blazing and unsteady, looked angrily at the other stars. At last
the Lord, fearing that there would be strife between them, cast the
red star down to the earth, and it came down on the meadow where the
shepherdess was; it came down as a shower over the whole field. But
the sparks never died out. The glow-worms carry them still.
V.
WHY DOES THE LITTLE WORM GLOW?
The Story of the Devil hurled down from Heaven.
Another legend about the origin of the glow-worm is of a similar
character. I will discuss later the possible origin, which will lead
us to the same remarkable results.
The time of separation between the good and the evil angels had
come. The good ones gathered to the right, and the evil ones, under
the leadership of the devil, gathered to the left. You can imagine
what a confusion and uproar there was, for they could not easily
disentangle themselves.
Whilst that confusion went on, there was a little devil who, after
all, did not like parting with the bliss of heaven. So what did he
do? He stole away from his own companions and hid himself among the
good angels, hoping that, by one way or another, he would get into
heaven. But he had not reckoned with St. Peter, who stands at the
gate of heaven and examines and searches every one asking leave of
entrance. Each angel had to present his pass, duly signed. St. Peter
examined the signature, and when he found it correct he allowed the
angel to enter heaven. So, one by one, they passed on, until the turn
of the little devil came. In vain did he protest that he was a good
angel. He had to produce his papers, and when St. Peter came to the
end, there was no proper signature. So St. Peter got very angry, and
without much ado, got hold of the little devil and cast him down to
earth. He came down with such violence that he broke up in millions
of luminous sparks, and these are the lights of the glow-worm.
VI.
WHY DOES THE LITTLE WORM GLOW?
The Story of St. Peter and the Cuckoo.
The tale of the glow-worm tells us that in olden times the people
were better and the earth cleaner than to-day. It was on this account
that God's saints used to walk about upon the earth. The saints and
the apostles had also their establishments just as we have them now,
house, table, cattle, children and everything that appertains to the
house of man. The most important of the saints was St. Peter. He used
to walk about with God more than any of the others, but, like every
Rumanian, he also had his house and all that belongs to it, just
as beseems one of God's saints. The tale from our forefathers tells
us that, among other things, he also had a stable full of beautiful
horses; black of skin like the raven's wing, and quick as the flame,
they were eating up the clouds, so fleet were they. In those times,
unfortunately, as in our times, besides saints, there were also
wicked people, thieves and the like, for the devil has had and will
always have his share in this world. But in those times there were
only a very few thieves, and they were very much ashamed of their
doings. They used to live in forests to which no one else went except
evil spirits. To-day--for our sins--the thieves are so numerous that
there is not a spot which is free of them. They rob you everywhere;
in the very midst of the town and in the open light of day.
In those days, there lived a great thief, whose name was Cuckoo. I
do not know how it came to pass, but he heard of St. Peter's horses
and made up his mind to steal them. One day St. Peter had gone on
one of his usual journeys to a distant part of the country. Cuckoo,
who had learned of it, came in the night and stole the horses
and drove them into the forest. On the morrow, by a mere chance,
St. Peter came home from his journey and asked about the horses. They
were nowhere to be found. Do what he might, he could not find them;
they were gone. But who had taken them, and whither had he gone with
them? St. Peter asked God to give him some powerful dogs to go with
him to the forest. God gave him the wolves, and from that time they
have remained St. Peter's dogs.
He went with them into the forest and searched high and low, but all
in vain. All through the day they hunted, but could find no trace of
the thief or of the horses. Night fell, and it was one of those dark
nights in which you can put your finger into your eye and yet not
see it. It was blacker and darker than the blackness and darkness
of hell. St. Peter did not know which way to turn, and he asked God
to perform some miracle for him to light up his way. God heard his
prayer, and before one could wipe one's eyes the whole forest was
full of glow-worms. St. Peter greatly rejoiced, and by the light
of the glow-worms he searched the forest all the night through,
but returned home with empty hands. Then St. Peter cursed the thief
Cuckoo, that he should be changed into a black, ill-omened bird, and
wherever he should find himself he was to call out his name. Since
then the cuckoo became a black and accursed bird, and when it sings
(calls) at the back of the house or in the courtyard it betokens
death. It speaks nothing else, but calls its own name, Cuckoo. The
cuckoo is frightened of the glow-worms, and, as soon as he sees them
in the forest he stops calling, for he thinks St. Peter is looking
out for him to catch him for stealing his horses. At the same time
the glow-worms were blessed by St. Peter and made the guides of
the wanderers through the forest. They come out about St. Peter's
day. Then the cuckoo keeps silence.
In these glow-worm stories, much of the apocryphal literature
concerning the fall of the angels has been preserved. It is not,
however, the pride of Satan that causes his downfall, but it is
the love of the earthly woman which causes the angel to fall. The
story in this form is found in the Hebrew versions preserved in the
Chronicles of Jerahmeel (my ed. London 1899, ch. xxv. p. 52 ff.),
and in other kindred books, from which it has passed through the Greek
into the Slavonic apocryphal literature. The contest between the devil
and angels is, however, not unknown. It is referred to here rather
humorously in the story of the little devil who wanted to steal slily
into heaven in the rush and is detected by the wily Peter. It is also
referred to in the Dragon-fly story, No. 14. Curiously enough, very
little of it seems to have been preserved in Slavonic literature. In
Albanian literature a faint trace is recorded by Hahn (ii. No. 107),
where the connection with the Wolf story is entirely missing, and
therefore inexplicable there. But the fragmentary Albanian tale is
fully set out here in the Rumanian version about the creation of the
wolf, Nos. 7, 8, 9.
VII.
WHY IS THE WOLF FEROCIOUS?
The Story of God, St. Peter and the Devil.
Once upon a time God was walking with St. Peter. On the way they met a
dog who came close to them and frolicked round them, and God stroked
the animal. St. Peter looked at God questioningly, and God said,
"I know what is in thy mind, but since thou art he who keeps the key
of heaven it is meet that thou shouldst know everything, and I will
therefore tell thee the story of the dog and the wolf, for thou must
know whom to let into heaven and whom to shut out. Thou seest, Peter,
what that brother of mine--"
"You mean the devil?" interposed St. Peter.
"Yes," said God, "I mean him. You see what he has done to me with
Adam and Eve, and how he made me drive them out of Paradise. What was
I to do? When the poor man was starving I had to help him, so I gave
him the sheep to feed him and to clothe him. But dost thou think the
devil will give them peace?--no, not he!"
"Yes," said Peter, "all very well, but what about the dog? I know
all that about Adam and Eve."
"Do not be in such a hurry," replied God, "I will tell thee everything;
bide thy time."
"Now, where was I? It was when I made the sheep, and the devil then
must again try and do something to hurt Adam, so he is now making the
wolf, who will destroy the sheep and bring Adam and Eve to grief. For
that reason I have made the dog, and he will drive the wolf away
and protect the flocks of sheep, and will be friendly to man, whose
property he will guard with faithfulness."
St. Peter said, "I know that in thy goodness thou art going again to
help the devil, as thou hast done aforetime."
The devil had made many things aforetime, but could not give them
life or movement, and it was always God who helped and completed
the work. Thus the devil made a car, but built it inside the house,
and did not know how to take it out and use it until God widened the
door and took it out, and as the devil was pulling away at it he broke
the hind wheels, so God took the first part of the car and put it in
the heavens, and it forms the constellation known as the Great Bear
(in Rumanian, the Great Car).
Then the devil made the mill, but he could not start it, so God
did. Then he made a house, but put no light into it, so God had to
make the windows. Then the devil made a fire, but did not know how
to kindle it.
He was now working away at moulding the wolf from clay. He worked so
hard that the perspiration ran down his face. Scratching his head,
he pulled out three hairs, but would not throw anything away--they
were much too precious--so he stuck them in the head of the wolf
between the eyes.
When he thought he had finished, he turned to God and said, "See what
I have done."
"Yes," replied God, "I see, but what is it?"
"Thou shalt know more about it soon," replied the devil; and, turning
to the wolf, which lay there lifeless, he said, "Up, wolf, and go
for him." But the wolf never stirred.
Then God turned to St. Peter and said, "Just wait and see how I will
pay him out," and, waving his hand over the wolf, he said, "Up, wolf,
and go for the devil."
The devil can run fast, but never ran faster than on that day when
the wolf jumped up and ran after him. In running he jumped into the
lake. He dipped under the waters and saved himself from the fangs
of the wolf. And ever since that time, the wolf has power over the
devil: when he catches him, he eats him up. All the year round the
devils are hiding in pools and bogs, but, from the night of St. Basil
(1st January) until the Feast of Epiphany, the waters are holy, being
sanctified through the Baptism. The devil can no longer stay in the
water, and he must get on to the land, where the wolf lies in wait
for him, and woe unto the devils who get too near the wolf.
When God and St. Peter saw the flight of the devil, they laughed
until the tears ran down their cheeks. Then God turned to St. Peter
and said to him, "I give these wolves now into thy care." Poor
St. Peter trembled from head to foot when he heard the charge that
was given to him, but God reassured him and said, "Never fear, Peter,
they will not harm thee; on the contrary, they will follow thee and
listen to thy command, as if they were friendly dogs." And so it has
remained. Once every year, on the day of the Feast of St. Peter, in
the winter-time, all the wolves come together to an appointed place
to meet St. Peter. Thither he comes with a huge book in his hand, in
which are written the names of all the persons who had given themselves
over to the devil, and he tells the wolves whom they are to eat.
The three hairs which the devil had put on the wolf are of a green
colour, and make the wolf look ferocious, for they are the devil's
hairs, and it is from them that the devil's fire got into the wolves'
eyes, which are lit up by it.
VIII.
WHY DO THE EYES OF THE WOLF GLOW AND HIS HAIR BRISTLE?
The Story of the Wolf, God and the Devil.
When God had finished the creation of the world, and had made all the
good animals and beasts, the devil thought he would also make some
creatures. He took some of the clay and made the wolf. When he had
finished God came to see what he had done. When he saw the brute he
asked the devil what it was.
"Ho, thou wilt soon see what it is. Up, wolf, and go for him." But
the wolf did not stir. There he lay where the devil had fashioned
him. When the devil saw that the wolf did not move, that there was
no life in him, he turned to God and said:
"Just make him go."
And God said, "Very well."
But before he made him go, he chipped the wolf about, and moulded
him and fashioned him a bit better than the devil had done. Out of
these chippings came the snakes and the toads. When he had finished
shaping him, God cried:
"Up, wolf, and go for him."
Up jumped the wolf and went for the devil, who got so frightened that
he ran away as fast as his feet would carry him.
When the devil saw that the wolf was running him close he pulled
out three hairs from his body and threw them behind him on to the
wolf. The wolf, who up to that time was hairless and smooth, was
suddenly covered with thick bristles, which, in one way or another,
were to prevent him from running so fast after the devil. It is
for that reason that the wolf has such thick bristles, and his eyes
glisten in the dark. They are the hair of the devil and the sparks
which have got into him through the devil's hair. And since that
time when he hears the wolves howling the devil takes to his heels,
lest they catch him as God commanded them to do.
Polish, Lettish and other Slavonic variations of the legend
concerning the creation of the wolf by the devil are given by Dähnhardt
(l.c. pp. 147 ff.), yet none so full as the Rumanian version. According
to one, the devil had made the wolf so as to have a creature of his
own. But he endeavoured in vain to call his creature to life, for he
would persistently say to it, "Arise, for I have made thee." Only,
however, when he whispered into his ear, "Arise, God has made thee,"
did the wolf spring to his feet. Then he attacked the devil, who ran
away and escaped with difficulty.
IX.
WHY DOES THE WOLF RUN AFTER THE DEVIL?
The Story of God, the Devil and the Stone.
According to a curious Rumanian version from Transylvania (in
Archiv. f. Siebenburg Landeskunde, 23, pp. 4-8, abbreviated by
Dähnhardt, pp. 152-3), the devil went to God and said to him, "O Lord,
thou hast created man and so many other creatures, but thou hast not
yet created the wolf." And God replied, "Very well," and, showing him
a huge boulder near a forest, told him to go and say to the stone,
"Devil, eat the stone." The devil went and said, "Stone, eat the
wolf." The boulder did not move. The devil went to God and said,
"The stone does not move." "What didst thou say?" "Stone, eat the
wolf." "But thou must say, 'Devil, eat the stone.'" The devil went
again to the stone and said, "Stone, eat the devil." Whereupon the
stone moved and ate the devil, and in its place there stood a wolf
with the face of the devil. Since then there are no more devils in
the world, but wolves too many.
This story, as here abbreviated, is undoubtedly corrupted. The real
form must have been at the beginning, "Stone, eat the devil," but
the devil changed it into, "Devil, eat the stone," until he spoke
exactly as he was told, and the stone turned into a wolf.
The wolf is dreaded as the most savage beast, and could therefore only
be conceived by the popular imagination as the creation of the devil.
In the northern mythology there occurs the wolf Fenrir, whose father
is Loki, the God of Fire, who will play such a decisive rôle at
Doomsday. Hahn (No. 105) contains the following version:
After the creation of man, the devil boasted that he could create
something better. God allowed him to do so. He took some clay and
moulded it and made the wolf. Then God said to him, "Give him life,
as I have done." The devil started blowing into the wolf until he
got red and blue in the face, but all in vain. Then God took a cane
and smote the wolf on his back, and that is why the back of the wolf
looks broken in the middle, and he said, "Creature, eat thy maker." Up
jumped the wolf and ate the devil. (Cf. Grimm, 148.)
X.
WHY THE GOAT'S KNEES ARE BARE.
The Story of God, the Fire and the Devil.
In the beginning the goats had wings, and used to fly about eating up
the tops of the trees. They did it so thoroughly that they left no
leaf or bud, and never allowed a tree to grow up. When God saw what
mischief they were doing, and how they were destroying all the trees,
he cursed them, and, taking away their wings, he said that henceforth
they should only be able to climb up crooked trees. And so they do.
When they came down upon earth, finding themselves without wings,
they went and made a pact with the devil, that they should henceforth
help one another. The devil willingly entered into an agreement with
them. It so happened that the devil's fire went out, and he was not
able to rekindle it himself, so he sent the two goats to God to steal
the fire from him. God had lit his fire, he had put the tripod over
the fire, and had hung on it the bowl to cook his food in. Then he
sat down quietly, watching the wood crackle and burn up. When the
goats came they started a conversation with God, speaking of this and
speaking of that, so that God should not see that they had come for
the purpose of stealing fire. When they saw they could not get on, they
decided to make a rush upon the fire, and to snatch a brand from it.
So they ran towards the tripod trying to snatch the fire. God, who
knew what they were bent upon, took the ladle which was sticking in
the food, and with the hot stuff on it he smote the goats on their
knees. The goats started running, and they shrieked from the pain of
the burning food on their knees, which burned the skin so that all
the hair fell out, and from that time the goats have no hair on their
knees, and the devil's beasts they have remained to this very day.
In other South-Slavonian versions (Dähnhardt, i. 142 f.) it is the
Evil One who invents the fire, and God is anxious to obtain it from
him in order to give it to mankind. The Evil One had deprived them
of it. God sends St. Peter to the Evil One with an iron rod in his
hands. This he was to poke in the fire until it got white hot; then
he was to touch some wood and the fire would leap up. Pursued by the
Evil One, who perceived the ruse, St. Peter struck the flint before
the rod had got cold, and thus got the spark inside the flint. Thus
it is that sparks fly when the flint is struck by iron.
As for the goats, the following variants and parallels are of interest:
According to an Armenian legend of Transylvania (Dähnhardt, 154;
Wlislocki, 12), the goat is the very work of the Evil One. Jealous of
God, who has made all the creatures, he boasted that he also would
make a creature of his own. When he saw how God fashioned the lamb,
one of the last of God's creatures, he set to work to make an animal in
the likeness of the lamb. So he made a goat. But he wanted to make it
more beautiful, so he added a beard and planted some pointed horns on
its head. Then he asked God to give life to his creation. God did so,
and thus made for man two new animals, the good, useful and meek lamb,
and the mischievous goat. God then took a vase, in which he had put
the intelligence of the animals, and, finding in it only a few drops
of the liquid at the bottom of the vase, he said to the devil that he
must be careful in the use of these drops. So he dropped a few on the
head of the lamb, but when he was going to pour some on that of the
goat the devil shook the vase, and thus many more drops fell on the
head of the goat than on that of the lamb. The devil laughed and said,
"My creature is cleverer than thine." To which God replied, "That
may be, but thy creature shall play the fool and live on scanty food."
In a Polish version (Dähnhardt, i. 162), the goat is made by the devil
almost in the same manner as he made the wolf in the tales Nos. 8,
9. And the goat comes to life only when, after saying "get up," he
whispers, "by the power of God." When the goat rises, the devil in
his fury gets hold of its tail and pulls it off; and ever since the
goats have had no tails.
In the South-Slavonic tale, curiously enough, the sheep take the
place of the goat and are made by the devil, which, in the light of
the above version, is due to some confusion made by the story-teller
between the ram and the goat. (Krauss, Sud-slav. Sagen, Leipzig 1883,
No. 29, p. 109.)
In a modern Greek legend, the devil made the goat, but he made the
knees stiff, and the goats perished from hunger. One day Christ was
walking upon earth, and he met the devil, who showed him the goats,
and said to him: "I have also made something, but I cannot make it sit
down; its knees are so stiff; so the goats die off." Whereupon Christ
took his seal and placed it upon the goats' knees. Afterwards they
could easily bend them. Hence the sign of the seal upon the goats'
knees. (Politis, No. 842; Dähnhardt, pp. 153-4.)
In these two tales we have peculiar variants to some of the incidents
in the Rumanian version, only so far as the connection of the goat
with the Evil One and the bareness of the goats' knees are concerned,
though the explanation is totally different from--nay, opposite
to--that given in the Rumanian version, where the bareness is the
sign of God's punishment of the goats.
A German tale (Grimm, 148) tells us: God made all the animals, even
the wolves, which were his dogs. The devil made the goats, which
destroyed the vines, the young trees, etc. The wolves then went and
killed the goats, and God offered to pay the devil the price of his
destroyed creatures, but only when all the oaks should lose their
leaves. But the devil was told that one oak in Constantinople keeps
its leaves all the year. He went in search of it for six months,
and could not find it. When he returned, the other oaks had got their
leaves again, and he got nothing. He poked out the eyes of the goats,
and put his own in instead, and therefore they have the devil's eyes,
and so the devil sometimes assumes their form.
These stories of the goat and the devil are probably one chapter of
the larger and yet unwritten book on the goat-devil in popular beliefs
and customs. It must suffice merely to mention the "scape-goat," the
goat-demons (seirim of the Bible), the Greek fauns and satyrs. Satan,
worshipped under the guise of a goat in the alleged orgies of the
witches, is found in the record of the Inquisition in medieval
accusations against the heretics. Is not the devil himself depicted
in medieval imagery with the cloven hoof--of the goat and with the
horns of the goat? The why and wherefore is another story. It is not
here and now the place to enter upon it. The mischievous character
of the goat, the amorous inclinations, the offensive smell, may to a
certain extent have contributed later on to justify this equation of
goat and devil, but there must be some other reason for making the
goat, if not a type, at least the friend of Satan.
XI.
WHY DID NOAH GET DRUNK?
The Story of the Goat, Noah and the Vine.
It is said that the vine did not exist before the flood, and of
course, therefore, there was no wine. The giants, whatever mischief
they may have done, and however wicked may have been their ways,
at any rate were never drunk. They only drank water, which is the
eternal beverage for man and beast. When the flood came the giants and
all the living creatures, except those whom Noah saved in the ark,
were destroyed. When the flood had subsided, the animals went out,
spread themselves over the earth, and multiplied very quickly.
Thus from the few head of cattle, sheep and goats there grew up soon
a large number, and Noah was able to live by his cattle and his goats.
Of all these animals, Noah loved the goats best, especially when he
saw them climbing about everywhere up the trees and up the rocks,
going freely in all directions. One day Noah saw that one of the
he-goats left the rest alone and went his own way, and when the
evening came he came down dancing and jumping, quite jolly; this he
repeated many days, and every evening he came home jumping and dancing,
and frolicking like a madman. Noah, anxious to find out what was the
reason of this peculiar behaviour of the goat, followed him quietly
one day, and he found out what it was. There, on one of the hillsides,
he saw a tree with very huge grapes, each one as big as a bucket. The
goat went straight to these and ate his fill. Getting drunk, he laid
himself down to sleep. When he woke up he started the game again,
and so until the evening, when he returned home quite jolly.
Old Noah was greatly surprised at this sight, for he had never seen
before any grapes; and so, climbing up as best he could, he plucked
a bunch in order to take it home and show his family.
On his way home the heat grew unbearable, and he got very thirsty. He
turned to the right, he turned to the left; nowhere a drop of water to
be seen. I do not know what he thought; but, having the grapes in his
hand, he put one in his mouth, and sucked at it. He found the juice
very sweet and refreshing, so he took the other grapes and squeezed
the juice into his mouth. Not satisfied with that, as his thirst was
not yet quenched, he went back to the vine tree, and taking a whole
cluster, he sucked it dry. When he returned, he felt somehow that his
head had got rather heavier than usual, and his legs, on the contrary,
were much lighter than before. Altogether he felt in a merry mood, and
though old and advanced in years, he started singing a song. Getting
near his house, the goat overtook him, frolicking and jumping as it
had done every day.
What should enter Noah's head but to follow the example of the goat,
frolicking and jumping, and in that state of high merriment both
reached the house. When Noah got near the house, he looked at himself,
and he could not make out what had happened to him, for he had lost
almost all his clothes. They had fallen off him on the way. He
could not get into the house, but, dropping down in front of it,
he fell fast asleep. There his sons found him, and thinking that he
was dangerously ill, put him on his bed and began wailing over him,
for they were sure he was at death's door.
The next morning, to their astonishment, he woke hale and hearty,
and there and then he told them all about the goat and the vine and
the grape and the sweet juice. Then Noah gave orders that the vine
should be taken from the hills and planted in his garden. Before
he did so, he killed the goat and poured the blood of it on to the
roots in remembrance of the fact that it was through the goat that
he discovered the vine.
Thus far the Rumanian story, which, however, requires completion. As
far as it goes it agrees almost verbatim with a story found in a very
ancient Hebrew collection of legends (Midrash Abkhir); the sequel
there is as follows: When Noah started planting the vine, the devil
came and asked to be allowed to take a part in it. Noah willingly
agreed. After killing the goat, the devil brought a lion, whose blood
was also used to water the roots of the vine, and finally brought a
swine, and his blood was also poured over the roots of the vine.
For this reason it comes to pass that, when a man drinks a little
wine he gets merry and jumps and frolics like a young kid; and if
he drinks a little more, he becomes hot and roars like the lion; and
his last stage is reached when he wallows in the mire like the pig,
for he has drunk the blood of all of them.
Here, then, we have a tale which shows how a man can become a beast
without changing his human form, not like all the other tales, in
which he remains a bird or a beetle to the end of his days.
A peculiar transformation of this legend is found in the following
variant, in which the bones of the animals are substituted for their
blood. The whole setting is different from the more primitive type
preserved in the Rumanian.
When Saint Dionysios was still young, he once made a journey through
Greece, in order to go to Naxia (the isle of Naxos), but the way
being very long, he got tired and sat down on a stone to rest. While
he was sitting, and looking down in front of himself, he saw at his
feet a little plant sprouting from the earth, which seemed to him so
beautiful that he resolved at once to take it with him and to plant
it. He took the plant out of the ground and carried it away; but,
as the sun was very hot just then, he feared that it might dry up
before his arrival in Naxia. Then he found the small bone of a bird,
and put the plant into it and went on. In his holy hand, however,
the plant grew so quickly that it peeped forth from both sides of
the bone. Then he again feared that it would dry up, and thought of
a remedy. He found the bone of a lion, which was thicker than the
bird's bone, and he put the bird's bone, together with the plant,
into the bone of the lion. But the plant quickly grew, even out of
the lion's bone. Then he found the bone of a donkey, which was still
thicker, and he put the plant, together with the bird's and lion's
bones, into the donkey's bone, and so he came to Naxia. When he was
planting it, he saw that the roots had wound thickly round the bones
of the bird, the lion and the donkey; and, as he could not take it
out without injuring the roots, he planted it in the ground as it
was, and it quickly grew up and produced, to his delight, the finest
grapes, from which he made the first wine, which he gave to men to
drink. But what a wonder did he see now! When men drank of it, they
sang in the beginning like merry little birds; drinking more of it,
they became strong as lions; and drinking still more, they became
stupid like donkeys. (Hahn, Albn. Märchen, ii. 76; v. also Thumb,
Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, Manchester, vol. ii. No. 1,
Oct. 1914, p. 38 and note 50).
I add here a Christmas carol about the shepherd and the sheep,
for it seems that at the basis of it lies the idea of God giving a
special blessing to the sheep. It is a second stage after the idea
of creation of the sheep by God.
XII.
GOD AND THE LAMB.
A Christmas Carol.
On the flowery mountain,
O Lord, good Lord,
Nica feeds his flock.
He feeds them,
He drives them,
He touches the foremost,
He gathers the hindmost,
And leads them into the pasture.
But where has he fixed the pasture?
On the top of the mountains,
Under the yellow plane tree.
A summer breeze is blowing,
Shaking the leaves,
And scattering them over the plain.
The sheep grew excited,
And they made a great noise.
They bleated, and the bleating reached the heaven and the earth.
The Holy God heard them,
And he came down to them,
And thus he spake with his mouth:
"Halloo, brave Nica, whose are these sheep,
Which bleat so beautifully,
So beautifully and devoutly?"
Nica the brave replied:
"O dear merciful God,
As thou hast come and askest me,
I will answer truly
To whom these sheep belong:
They are thine,
As well as mine.
I feed them;
Thou guardest them.
I milk them;
Thou multipliest them.
I shear them;
Thou makest them grow."
The good God replied
And said to Nica the brave:
"May they be given to thee
From me as a gift--
From a good father
To a clever son--
For thou art sweet of tongue.
But thou shalt give me,
On St. John's day,
Two lambs;
On St. George's day
One suckling lamb;
And on Ascension day
A cake of cheese."
Nica the brave
May live in health,
He and his brothers
And his parents.
May God keep you all.
This refers no doubt to the creation of the sheep by God--as mentioned
before--and the manner in which the sheep were expected to help Adam
after the fall. (v. Wolf Story No. 7.)
XIII.
THE HART AND THE MAKING OF THE WORLD.
A Christmas Carol.
Slowly, slowly, O Lord,
The little river Olt
Has grown big,
So big
That the borders cannot be seen.
But what is coming
Down the Olt?
Tall pines
And dry fir trees.
Among the pines,
Among the fir trees,
A three-year-old stag
Is swimming.
The stag swims,
And lifts up its horns.
On the top of his horns
A cradle is hanging and swinging,
A green cradle made of silk,
Woven in six strands.
But who sits in the cradle?
The maiden, the young girl,
With her tresses hanging down the back,
Shining
Like the holy sun.
She sits and sews,
And embroiders
A collar for her father,
A kerchief for her brother.
But she stops and does not sew,
Nor does her mouth keep quiet,
For she is singing:
"Slowly, slowly,
Old stag,
Slowly, slowly be thou swimming.
Do not hinder my work.
And the waves are rising;
They might wash me off and carry me off thy horns.
Slowly, slowly,
Dear old stag,
For I have three brothers at court,
Where they learn many things.
All the three are noted hunters,
And good falconers.
They will discover thee,
And run after me.
With their falcons they will pursue thee.
With their dogs they will worry thee.
With their lances they will prick thee.
Slowly, slowly,
Dear old stag--
For if my brothers find thee,
They will make my wedding feast
With thy poor flesh.
With thy bones
They will build
My little house.
With thy skin
They will cover
My little home.
With thy blood
They will paint
My little courts.
And with thy head
They will celebrate
The holy feast.
They will place it
Over the gate,
At the entrance of the little garden.
Of thy hoofs
They will make
Crystal cups,
Out of which
Nobles drink.
On rare occasions--
On Christmas day and Epiphany--
When the whole world rejoices,
I drink to the health of these houses
For many years.
The mythical stag carrying on his horns a girl who is like the sun
is similar to the bull of Mithras and to the bull in the Avesta,
out of which the world was created. The stag provides here all the
elements for the building of a house and for the merriment of the
nobles. Each part of its body is accounted for.
XIV.
WHY IS THE FLY CALLED THE DEVIL'S HORSE?
The Fight of St. George and the Devil.
In Rumania, the dragon-fly is known as the devil's horse or perhaps the
dragon's horse. It is also known as St. George's horse. The following
legends explain this peculiar name.
We are told that in olden times there was continual strife between God
and the devil. God, however, who is peacefully inclined, let the devil
play his game as long as possible. He thought that perhaps after some
time the devil might become better behaved. But what can you expect
of the devil? He is what he is, and neither good nor bad treatment
will change him. And so it proved even to God. He waited a very long
time to see him quiet down and become more satisfied. But no sooner
had God granted him one thing, than the devil asked for another, and
so he went on asking continually. When at last God saw that nothing
could be done with Satan, he armed his host of angels and gave each
one a beautiful horse to ride on. One morning, at early dawn, they
all mounted their horses and, led by St. George, who was riding at
the head of the host, they started the fight with the devil.
After a time St. George--who rode a horse, which was like unto none
of the others, wondrously beautiful--felt suddenly that his horse was
backing instead of going ahead. So St. George found himself involved
among his own host, and some other horses following his example,
started moving backwards and hitting those who were riding behind
them. He then suddenly heard the voice of God telling him to dismount,
for his horse had been bewitched by the devil. "If that is the case,"
said St. George, "then be it the devil's own," and he let it go. And
so it happened. Scarcely had it made three steps when it was changed
into a flying insect, which we, upon this earth, call the devil's horse
(libellula depressa).
A similar legend must have been current in West Europe and in England,
as otherwise the English name of Dragon-fly could not be explained. At
the root of it there must be some legend of St. George and the Dragon,
in addition to the fight between the hosts of heaven and the army of
Satan. This part must have entirely dropped out, and the knowledge and
recollection of the part which St. George played was connected either
with the worm, i.e. dragon probably transformed into an insect, or the
horse of St. George, believed to have been a winged horse. To us here,
however, the first part of the legend is of the utmost interest,
for it is nothing less than the Biblical legend of the rebellion
of Satan which led to the combat and to the fall. Satan had lost
Paradise, and ever since then he had been yearning for the light
of Paradise, either by attempting to steal the heavenly fire, as in
the Goat stories, or by stealing the sun and moon as in some of the
Christmas carols. Thereby he entered into a contest with the heavenly
power. Though these variants do not contain much of the legendary
fauna, they form an important part in the mythological conception
which lies at the root of many of these creation-tales and legends.
XV.
THE DEVIL STEALING THE SUN.
A Christmas Carol.
In the glory of the heavens,
On the outskirts of Paradise,
Close to the throne of God--
The throne of Judgment--
Where the whole world gathers,
Tables are decked,
And the saints sit round the table.
John St. John,
Ilie St. Ilie,
Peter St. Peter,
With all the other saints,
Are feasting joyously.
The Lord came then to the table,
Sat down at the table,
Blessed the bread,
And began
To eat.
They were eating,
Or not eating,
For on a sudden
They lifted their eyes,
And whom should they see from afar?
The archangel Gabriel
And the angel Michael,
Who were coming, always coming,
Drawing nearer and nearer, and then they reached the table.
They bent their knees before the Lord,
Bent their knees and prayed.
And said the following:
"Dost thou know, O Lord, or dost thou not know,
What has happened in Paradise?
What we have seen and what has been done?
No sooner had St. Peter gone,
And Ilie followed suit,
And St. John had left us,
When the heathen gods, realising it,
Stormed Paradise,
Entered inside,
Robbed it and
Have taken away the crown of Paradise.
They have taken the moon,
With its light.
They have taken the twilight,
With its glimmer.
They have taken the stars,
With their flowers.
They have taken the sun,
With its treasures.
The heathen gods have further taken away
The throne of judgment,
Before which the whole world must appear.
They have carried it all away into hell.
Paradise is darkened,
Whilst hell is lit up.
We have fought as much as we could fight,
But they overpowered us.
They refuse to give up the spoil.
We have now come to tell you,
To bring our prayer as a sacrifice,
That you may render us help,
And come back with us to Paradise."
When the Lord heard it,
He made a sign to the saints,
And turned his eyes upon the angels,
And went with them
To bear them company.
First St. Ilie,
Who is the most powerful saint;
And second to him St. Peter,
To smite the heathen gods with drought.
They followed him.
They started,
John baptising,
St. Ilie striking with his lightning flashes,
St. Peter drenching with rains and downpours.
When they arrived at hell
St. Ilie struck with his lightning;
St. Peter cursed them;
St. John
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