Chapter X: Conclusion

In considering the general development and relations of The Grateful Dead, to which we must now turn, it is proper to inquire first of all as to its origin. Hitherto the existence of the story-theme as such has been taken well nigh for granted, though the discussion of variants in simple form necessitated some reference [245] to the point of separation between the maerchen and whatever beliefs or social customs lie beyond. Now that the tale has been followed through its various modifications and has been proved by a systematic study of its forms to be, if I may use the expression, a living organism, the debateable land outside can be entered with measurable security.

There can be no doubt that The Grateful Dead as a theme is based upon beliefs about the sacred duty of burial and upon the customs incident to withholding burial for the sake of revenge or recompense. To study these phenomena in detail is not necessary to the scheme of this book, but belongs rather to the province of primitive religion and law. It is sufficient for our purpose to show the nature and extent of such observances and beliefs for the sake of the light which they may throw on the genesis of the tale itself.

The belief that no obligation is more binding on man than that he pay proper respect to the dead is as old as civilization itself. Indeed, it probably antedates what we ordinarily call civilization, since otherwise it could not well be found so widely distributed over the earth in historical times. It evidently rests upon the notion that the soul, when separated from the body, could find no repose. [246] Herodotus tells [247] of the Egyptian law, which permitted a man to give his father's body in pledge, with the proviso that if he failed to repay the loan neither he nor any of his kin could be buried at all. The story, also related by Herodotus, [248] of Rampsinit and the thief which turns on the latter's successful attempt to rescue his brother's body, illustrates again the value that the Egyptians set upon burial. Their notion seems to have been that the more honour paid the dead, the more bearable would be their lot, though it was regarded as unenviable at best. [249] Among the Magi of Persia, though both burial and burning were prohibited because of the sanctity of earth and fire, the bodies of the dead were cared for according to the strictest of codes, being left to the sun and air on elevated structures. [250] In India the Rig-Veda [251] bears witness to similar carefulness in the performance of this sacred duty.

In classical times belief in the necessity of proper burial was widespread. Patroclus, it will be remembered, appears to his friend Achilles, and admonishes him that he should not neglect the dead, at the same time giving a dire picture of the state of the unburied. [252] Pausanias speaks [253] of the conduct of Lysander as reprehensible in not burying the bodies of Philocles and the four thousand slain at Aegospotami, saying that the Athenians did as much for the Medes after Marathon, and even Xerxes for the Lacedaemonians after Thermopylae. The story told by Cicero [254] of Simonides gives definite proof of the concrete nature of the reverential feeling among both Greeks and Romans. Suetonius in his life of Caligula relates that when the emperor's body was left half burned and unburied, ghosts filled the palace and garden.

An example of the mediaeval belief is found in the Middle High German Kudrun, written at the end of the twelfth century or the beginning of the thirteenth.

"Daz hast wol geraten," sprach der von Sturmlant.
"ja sol man verkoufen ir ros und ir gewant,
die da ligent tote, daz man der armen diete
nach ir libes ende von ir guote disen frumen biete."
Do sprach der degen Irolt: "sol man ouch die begraben,
die uns den schaden taten, od sol man si die raben
und die wilden wolve uf dem werde lazen niezen?"
do rieten daz die wisen, daz sie der einen ligen niht
enliezen. [255]

The Annamite tale cited in the third chapter [256] and Servian VI., likewise summarized in connection with variants having the story-theme in simple form, [257] bear witness to the effect that the widespread belief has had upon folk-tales now in circulation. The connection of these two tales with the maerchen as such is so vague that they serve the end of illustrating its growth from popular belief rather than the relationship of one form to another. So also the story from Brittany, printed by Sebillot, [258] which tells how a ghost came to workmen in a mill demanding Christian interment for its body then buried under the foundations, serves the same end, though no reward is mentioned. Sometimes the neglect of burial by a person brings unpleasant results to him, as is witnessed by a tale from Guernsey. [259] A fisherman neglected to bury a body which he encountered on the coast, and, when he reached his home, found the ghost awaiting him. An Indian tale illustrates the belief that the dead become vampires when funeral rites are not performed. [260]

In most versions of The Grateful Dead a corpse is left unburied either because creditors remain unpaid or the surviving relatives cannot pay for Christian burial. From sixteenth century Scotland we have evidence that the latter trait is based on actual custom. Sir David Lyndesaye, in The Monarche, while describing the exactions of the clergy, says:

Quhen he hes all, than, vnder his cure,
And Father and Mother boith ar dede,
Beg mon the babis, without remede:
They hauld the Corps at the kirk style;
And thare it moste remane ane quhyle,
Tyll thay gett sufficient souerte
For thare kirk rycht and dewite. [261]

This evidence for the widespread belief in the pious duty of burial and for the custom of withholding burial in cases where the dead man was poor, though it might easily be increased in bulk, makes very clear at least two matters. The tale of The Grateful Dead might have arisen almost anywhere and in almost any age since the time of the Egyptians. Again, when once it had been formed, it was likely to be reinforced or changed by the beliefs and customs prevalent in the lands to which it came.

The first matter at once suggests the question as to whether, after all, the maerchen has not been more than once discovered by the imagination of story-tellers,--whether it has not sprung up again and again in different parts of the world like different botanical species, instead of being a single plant which has propagated itself through many centuries. In spite of the evident possibility that such sporadic development might have taken place, I cannot believe that it happened so. If we had to do with some vaguely outlined myth in which only the underlying idea was the same in the several groups of variants, and if this vague tale were narrated among peoples of absolutely no kinship to one another, say by the Indians of North America and the Zulus, one could have no reasonable doubt that similar conditions had produced similar tales. Such stories exist in numbers sufficient to render untenable the old hypothesis of Oriental origins in anything like the form in which it was held by Benfey or even Cosquin.

In cases like that of The Grateful Dead, however, the matter is entirely different. The theme is comparatively a complicated one, and it is found only in lands whose inhabitants are connected either by blood or by social and political intercourse. [262] It has preserved its integrity for nearly a score of centuries, though suffering many changes of details, and a variety of combinations with other themes. To my mind such an involved relationship as that worked out in the preceding chapters proves conclusively that the story is one, that the connection between variants is more than fortuitous. Inductive logic makes the belief inevitable. Any other theory would involve us in a bewildering net of contradictions, from which escape could be found only in the avowal that nothing whatever can be known about narrative development.

If the seemingly inevitable conclusion be accepted that The Grateful Dead is an organism with a life history of its own, the question at once suggests itself as to when and where it came into being. As to its ultimate origin, however, only a very imperfect answer can be given. Surmise and theory are all that can aid us here. Liebrecht was of the opinion that the story was of European rather than Oriental origin, [263] even though he did not accept Simrock's theory that it was Germanic. Notwithstanding the fact that most variants are European, this hypothesis seems to me very improbable. Tobit, the earliest variant which we possess, [264] is distinctly Semitic in origin and colouring. Other versions from Asia, like Jewish, Armenian, and Siberian, though modern folk-tales, add weight to the evidence of the apocryphal story, especially since the one last named comes from a somewhat remote region where European narratives could not without difficulty have much direct influence. Of course it is possible to suppose that the theme came to the Semites from the West, and was by them disseminated in Asia; [265] but the early date of Tobit renders it unlikely that such was the case. Certainly it is more reasonable from the evidence at hand to believe in the Oriental origin of the maerchen. As to the particular region of Asia where it was probably first related, nothing can be said with security. Yet since there is no evidence that it has ever been known in India, Western Asia, and perhaps the region inhabited by the Semites, may be considered, at least tentatively, its first home.

The age of the theme cannot definitely be measured. It is possible, however, to say that it must have existed at least as early as the beginning of our era. Tobit is of assistance again here. As the book is believed to have been written during the reign of Hadrian (76-138 A.D.) and as it has the motive in a compound form, which is unlikely to have arisen immediately after the simple story was first set afloat, there is little danger of over-statement in saying that the latter must have been known at least as early as the first part of first century A.D., or more probably before the birth of Christ. Any statement beyond this would rest on idle speculation.

After The Grateful Dead was once established as a narrative, its development can be traced with some degree of precision, though not without many gaps here and there. Its history is largely a matter of combinations with originally independent themes, with an occasional landmark in the form of a literary version. The most notable compounds into which it has entered are those with The Poison Maiden, The Ransomed Woman, and certain types connected with The Water of Life. That it entered into other minor compounds at various stages gives evidence that it retained its independence long after the first union took place, even though examples of the simple type are so hard to find and in some cases of such doubtful character.

Probably the first combination of the theme was with The Poison Maiden, which the valuable evidence of Tobit enables us to date as taking place as early as the middle of the first century and in western Asia. The Poison Maiden probably came originally from India by way of Persia, [266] and was certainly widely distributed. Among the Semites it would naturally first meet any tale which had other than Indian origin, so that the existence of Tobit at so early a date is only what one would expect, looking at the matter in this retrospective fashion. The amalgamation of these two themes, when once they had come into the same region, was natural. They had the necessary point of contact in the treatment of the hero's wife by a helpful friend, who played an important part in each. In The Poison Maiden she received short shrift, being possessed of a poisonous glance or bite, or of snakes ready to destroy the man who married her. [267] In The Grateful Dead she was innocent, but had to be divided to satisfy the claims of a being who had helped her husband. [268] The part of the friend was less well motivated in The Poison Maiden than in The Grateful Dead, so that it was natural for the themes to unite at a common point and produce a compound at once more complete and more thrilling than were the simpler forms. This combination must have been made not by a conscious literary worker, for, had it been, Tobit would surely stand less independent of the later versions than is actually the case, but by the tellers of folk-tales, in a manner quite unconscious and altogether unstudied. The stories combined of themselves, so to say.

From Semitic lands, if it was indeed there made, the compound seems to have travelled into Europe as well as into other parts of Asia. [269] It has spread during the intervening centuries throughout the length and breadth of Europe, always remaining a genuinely popular tale. As far as my knowledge goes, it did not appear in literature from the time when the Hebrew book of Tobit was written till Peele's Old Wives' Tale was presented some fifteen centuries later on the English stage. In the nineteenth century it again appeared to the reading public in the version which the Dane Andersen made from a Norse folk-tale. Yet the story in all versions of the compound extant is unmistakably the same, though it has suffered more changes in detail than would be worth while to enumerate here, since they have already been noted in the chapter dealing with the type. The most important modification which it sustained was due to its meeting The Lady and the Monster and absorbing elements of that tale. How early this took place it is impossible to say, since George Peele's play is the only literary monument that helps to fix any date. A considerable stretch of time must, however, be allowed for the passage of a folk-tale from the extreme east of Europe to England. That the secondary combination was indeed made in eastern Europe admits of definite proof. All the known variants of The Grateful Dead + The Poison Maiden from the west have The Lady and the Monster as well, while three Slavic east-European versions [270] are of this type. It follows that the compound must have been formed in the east and carried to the west, since otherwise the distribution should be precisely the opposite of that which obtains. Moreover, had the compound been made in Asia, it is improbable that it would have left such a comparatively feeble trace in the eastern part of the continent of Europe and later have conquered all the west. Other combinations, primary and secondary, have also arisen; but, if the collection of variants hitherto made is at all adequate, they are of inconsiderable importance.

Meanwhile, the simple theme of The Grateful Dead passed into Europe by other paths. Once over the border, it met a tale with which it readily combined, producing a type not less influential than the one just mentioned. This new motive was The Ransomed Woman, the origin of which is at present quite unknown. Though it is seemingly Oriental in character, all versions yet unearthed come from Europe, so that its provenance must be left in uncertainty. At all events, it was known in eastern Europe, and it was there in all probability that it became amalgamated with The Grateful Dead. How early this took place cannot be stated, but long enough before the fourteenth century to allow the passage of the compound type to France by that time, when it was retold by Gobius with a good deal of mutilation in his Scala Celi. [271] The points of contact, which led to the combination, have already been discussed in the chapter dealing with the type. [272] Suffice it to say at this point that they were, in brief, the journey of the hero, his rescue, and the wife whom he gained at the end of the story. As in the case of The Poison Maiden, the compound seems to have arisen quite naturally by means of these correspondences, with the end of making a more romantic and satisfactory tale. That it took place quite unconsciously seems clear, but that the result was successful is proved by the solidarity of the type thus produced, though it has subsequently been carried into every part of Europe. The relationship of versions, between thirty and forty in number, is unmistakable.

That the simple motive of The Grateful Dead was not exhausted by the two remarkable combinations just treated, that it retained its individuality and independence, is shown by the various minor combinations discussed in the third chapter. It is altogether probable that other examples of such simple compounds as those containing The Swan-Maiden, Puss in Boots, and a story like that told of Pope Gregory [273] are in existence, and may be found by later study. One can speak only with reference to material at command. Very likely other combinations than those treated here are in existence and may also appear, either in sporadic cases or in groups. But, the reader may ask, if the motive is found in so many compounds, both with and without The Poison Maiden and The Ransomed Woman, why does it not occur more frequently, at least in folk-literature, without combination? To this I should reply that the story is an ancient one, which has many points of correspondence with other themes. By reason of these traits it has absorbed, or has been absorbed by, these other tales, until now it is difficult to find examples of the simple form. A thousand years ago, or some such matter, they may, indeed, have been frequently retold by the firesides of Europe, though now they are practically unknown. The constant tendency of folk-tales to change from simplicity to complexity would in time cause the pure theme to be generally forgotten. Nevertheless, its existence could be proved, even though no example still remained, for the various independent compounds would be inexplicable on any other theory. In the case of The Grateful Dead, the tales, to which it has been joined, have been so interwoven with its substance that it is quite impossible to believe, for example, that the combination with The Ransomed Woman proceeded from that with The Poison Maiden.

But these simple compounds with a single foreign theme do not complete the tale. When once they were formed, they in turn had each a history of its own, with infinite possibilities of absorbing traits from other stories or even entire themes. In the case of the latter, a reason could always be found in such points of contact as I have already mentioned, or so I believe, if the material were sufficient for proper comparison. In this way arose the complicated types treated in chapter six, where the manner of combination is readily seen. [274] Sometimes, it is probable, subtraction has taken place as well as addition, but apparently only when it has not involved the disentangling of various traits. For example, many variants have been noted where one of the two most striking features of our central theme, the burial of the dead debtor, has disappeared; yet in every case the rest of the plot has remained unimpaired. The more complicated the variant, the better able is the investigator to place its kinship to other variants, provided that he has the requisite material and the patience to follow up the clues that every such labyrinth affords.

The most striking facts of general import to the study of folk-narrative that have developed in the course of this prolonged consideration of The Grateful Dead may be briefly summarized in conclusion. It has been shown once again that the story has an organic life of its own, whether it comes from the East or the West, whether it be founded upon some fact of social custom or belief, or on the imaginings of a moralist of antiquity. [275] Once started, it will go its way through divers lands and ages, yet retain unaltered the essential features of its plot. Call it story-skeleton, or better, living organism, it always keeps its structural integrity, no matter whether told as a pious legend or a conte a rire. Of no less importance than this is the fact that whatever serious changes take place in its form are not fortuitous, mere whimsical alterations due to the fancy of story-tellers, but are due to capabilities of expansion or combination in the plot itself. Whenever two themes with points of resemblance, or contact come into the same region, they are in the long run pretty certain to unite, each retaining its individuality, but merging in the other. This principle is well illustrated in the history of The Grateful Dead. The marriages of stories seem never to be merely for convenience, except in the hands of conscious writers, but to be the result of attraction and real compatibility. That, I take it, is why and how narratives develop.

Were it necessary to justify such studies as the present, one might add that, apart from helping to the settlement of such more general questions as those just mentioned, they throw light on the sources of particular literary works, better than does the haphazard search for parallels, and they often enable the student to see the relations between the literatures of neighbouring countries more clearly than he would be able to do without the perspective gained by a comparative consideration of a single theme in many lands. In ways like these the author hopes that this history of The Grateful Dead may be serviceable.

THE END.

NOTES

[1] 1856.

[2] Guter Gerhard, as will be seen later, does not follow the theme at all.

[3] P. 114.

[4] 1859, i. 219-221.

[5] Ghost-Thanks or The Grateful Unburied, A Mythic Tale in its Oldest European Form, Sir Amadace, 1860.

[6] P. 9.

[7] P. 7.

[8] Germania, iii. 199-210, xii. 55 ff.; Or. u. Occ. ii. 322-329, iii. 93-103; Arch. f. slav. Phil. ii. 631-634, v. 40 ff.; Gonzenbach, Sicilianische Maerchen, 1870, ii. 248-250.

[9] Heidelberger Jahrbuecher der Lit. 1868, lxi. 449-452, 1872, lxv. 894 f.; Germania, xxiv. 132 f.

[10] P. 449.

[11] Altbayerischer Sagenschatz zur Bereicherung der indogermanischen Mythologie, 1876, pp. 678-689.

[12] Contes populaires de Lorraine, i. 214, 215.

[13] Archiv f. d. Stud. d. neueren Sprachen, lxxxi. 141-183.

[14] P. 167. "Ein Juengling zeigt sich menschenfreundlich gegen die Leiche eines Unbekannten (indem er dieselbe vor Schimpf bewahrt, bestattet, etc.). Der Geist des Toten gesellt sich darauf zu ihm und erweist sich ihm dankbar, indem er ihm zu Reichtum und zum Besitze des von ihm zur Frau begehrten Maedchens verhilft, jedoch unter der Bedingung, dass er dereinst alles durch ihn Gewonnene mit ihm teile. Der Juengling geht auf diesen Vertrag ein, und der Geist stellt sich nach einer gewissen Zeit wieder ein, um das Versprochene entgegenzunehmen, verlangt aber nicht die Haelfte des gewonnene Gutes, sondern die der Frau. (Schluss variabel.)"

[15] See p. x. above.

[16] P. 180.

[17] See his scheme on p. 181.

[18] Der Dank des Todten in der englischen Literatur, Jahresbericht der Staats-Oberrealschule in Troppau, 1894.

[19] Marburg diss. 1894, pp. 43-63.

[20] Folk-Lore, ix. 226-244 (1898).

[21] I have to thank the kindness of Professor Leo Wiener for my knowledge of the content of Russian V. and VI., which he was good enough to translate for me from the dialect of White Russia.

[22] What the two Bohemian variants contain, which are mentioned by Benfey, Pantschatantra, i. 221, note, by Stephens, p. 10, by Koehler, Germania, iii. 199-209, and Or. und Occ. ii. 328, note, and by Hippe, p. 146, I have been unable to ascertain.

[23] On pp. 194-201 is found a curious "Echo de l'histoire de Tobie."

[24] Hippe's first Lithuanian tale is a variant of The Water of Life and will be treated in another connection.

[25] Hippe speaks of "zwei spanische Romanzen." Had he consulted the Spanish text or read Koehler's note more attentively, he would have seen that a single story runs through nos. 1291 and 1292 of the Romancero.

[26] My attention was called to this variant by the kindness of Professor F. De Haan, and I was supplied with a first summary from the 1693 edition by the friendly aid of Professor G. T. Northup.

[27] See Crane, Exempla of Jacques de Vitry, 1890, p. lxxxvi.

[28] P. Paris, Manuscrits francois, 1840, iii. 1, and Foerster, Richars li Biaus, 1874, p. xxvii, date it from the fifteenth century; Suchier, Oeuvres poetiques de Philippe de Beaumanoir, 1884, p. lxxxiv, and Wilhelmi, p. 15, from the fourteenth century.

[29] P. Paris, place cited, and Foerster, place cited, say the sixteenth century, but Wilhelmi, place cited, the fifteenth.

[30] See Wilhelmi, p. 43.

[31] Foulche-Delbosc, pp. 589, 590.

[32] Work cited, pp. 587, 588.

[33] Place cited.

[34] My attention was first called to this story by the kindness of Professor A. C. L. Brown.

[35] An edition with an almost identical title "Printed and sold by Larkin How, in Petticoat Lane," of which a copy is in the Harvard College library, does not contain our story.

[36] My attention was called to this variant by the kindness of Professor Kittredge.

[37] Miss Petersen's conclusion, Sources of the Nonne Prestes Tale, p. 109, note, is not altogether convincing, since the vogue of Valerius Maximus was so great that other authors than Holkot are likely to have quoted Cicero's stories from him. The book may yet be found in which the one follows the other "right in the nexte chapitre."

[38] Given by Hippe, pp. 143 f. Wherever Hippe's summaries are adequate and careful, I shall refer the reader to his monograph for comparison.

[39] This story has nothing in common with the mediaeval tale of the compact between two friends that the first to die shall appear to the other. See the writer's North-English Homily Collection, 1902, pp. 27-31.

[40] Apparently beneficent spirits, whose nature is half fairy and half angel. See Servian V. below.

[41] See chapter viii. and Sepp, pp. 678-680 for illustrations of the belief.

[42] One can conceive of separate generation of a very simple story under similar conditions, but not, I think, that a series of events showing combination of themes or detailed correspondence would so arise.

[43] Carnoy and Nicolaides, Traditions populaires de l'Asie Mineure, 1889, pp. 57-74.

[44] See Baring-Gould's Curious Myths, 2nd ed. 1869, pp. 561 ff. for a popular account. The philosophical basis of the tale is discussed by Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, 1879, pp. 54 ff. (from Germania, xiii. 161 ff.), and by Hartland, Science of Fairy Tales, 1891, pp. 255-332, 337-347.

[45] See Hippe, p. 148.

[46] Or. und Occ. ii. 176.

[47] Kinder- und Hausmaerchen, no. 28. See notes (ed. 1856), iii. 55, 56; also Koehler, Kleinere Schriften, i. 49, 54.

[48] See Hippe, p. 155. This analysis includes only the second of two well-defined parts. The first section is related to the English Sir Degarre (ed. from Auchinleck MS. for the Abbotsford Club, 1849; from Percy Folio, Hales and Furnivall, Percy Folio MS., 1868, iii. 16-48; early prints by Wynkyn de Worde, Copland, and John King; see G. Ellis, Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances, 1811, iii. 458 ff., J. Ashton, Romances of Chivalry, 1887, pp. 103 ff., Paul's Grundriss, ii. i. 643). This connection was pointed out by Foerster, p. xxiii. The same material was used also in a Dutch chapbook, Jan wt den vergiere, of which a copy printed at Amsterdam is preserved at Goettingen. See the article "Niederlaendische Volksbuecher," by Karl Meyer, in Sammlung bibliothekswissenschaftlicher Arbeiten, ed. Dziatzko, viii. 17-22, 1895. I am indebted for this last reference to the kindness of Dr. G. L. Hamilton.

[49] See Hippe, pp. 152 f.

[50] See Hippe, pp. 158 f.

[51] This trait recalls the first of Chaucer's two stories in the Nun's Priest's Tale, Cant. Tales, B. 4174-4252, where the comrade is found buried with dung on a cart.

[52] For a fuller analysis see Hippe, pp. 160-164.

[53] In Richars, Lion de Bourges, Dianese, and Sir Amadas he pays his all, even to his equipment for war, the most logical and, on the whole, probably the earlier form of the story.

[54] In all except Old Swedish and Sir Amadas the man was a knight; in these he was a merchant, the husband of the woman at whose house the hero lodges.

[55] "V le femme u l'auoir ares," v. 5316.

[56] Though in Lion de Bourges he excepts the lady specifically.

[57] See Ueber Lion de Bourges, particularly pp. 46-54.

[58] See chapter vii.

[59] The Trentall of St. Gregory. The Old French text has been edited by P. Meyer, Romania, xv. 281-283. The English versions, of which the first seems to be taken from this, are found in the following MSS.: (A) Vernon MS. fol. 230, ed. Horstmann, Engl. Stud. viii. 275-277, and The Minor Poems of the Vernon MS. i., E.E.T.S. 98, 1892, pp. 260-268; Vernon MS. fol. 303, variants given in Horstmann's ed. for E.E.T.S.; MS. Cotton Caligula A II., ed. Furnivall, Political, Religious, and Love Poems, E.E.T.S. 15, 1866, pp. 83-92, reprinted by Horstmann, E.E.T.S. pp. 260-268; MS. Lambeth 306, variants given by Furnivall; a critical text with variants of the four was made by A. Kaufmann, Trentalle Sancti Gregorii, Erlanger Beitraege, iii. 29-44, 1889. (B) MS. 19, 3, 1, Advocates' Libr., Edinburgh, ed. Turnbull, The Visions of Tundale, 1843, pp. 77 ff., and Buelbring, Anglia, xiii. 301-308; MS. Kk. I, 6, Camb. Univ. Libr., ed. Kaufmann, pp. 44-49. Kaufmann in his introduction discusses the relations of the versions. See further Varnhagen, Anglia, xiii. 105 f. Another legend of Gregory in popular fiction is treated by Bruce in his edition of De Ortu Waluuanii, Publications Mod. Lang. Ass. xiii. 372-377. The story in the Gesta Romanorum to which Luzel, i. 83, note, refers is this rather than our tale.

[60] i. 83 and 90, notes.

[61] Or. und Occ. iii. 99 f.

[62] See Das Maerchen vom gestiefelten Kater, Leipzig, 1843; Benfey, Pantschatantra, i. 222; Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmaerchen, iii. 288; Liebrecht, Dunlop's Geschichte der Prosadichtungen, 1851, p. 286; Polivka, Arch. f. slav. Phil. xix. 248; etc.

[63] Chapter vi.

[64] An unnecessarily nauseating reason is given by one of them (Act i. sc. i.), but this seems to be of Massinger's invention.

[65] P. 8.

[66] It is interesting also to note that a Viennese dramatist of our own day has adapted Massinger's drama, retaining a vague reminiscence of the thankful dead. The curious may see Der Graf von Charolais by Richard Beer-Hofmann, 1905.

[67] See pp. 1 and 2.

[68] P. 181.

[69] Abhandlungen der k. bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1893, pp. 89-166. Reprinted, with some additional notes by the editor, in Gesammelte Abhandlungen von Wilhelm Hertz, ed. F. von der Leyen, 1905, pp. 156-277.

[70] The existing versions go back to the pseudo-Aristotelian De secretis secretorum or De regimine principum, which was taken from the Arabic in the twelfth century (Hertz, p. 92). It is probable, however, that the tale existed far earlier than this and came from India (Hertz, pp. 151-155).

[71] Pp. 115 ff.

[72] Two Asiatic parallels not cited by Hertz will serve to illustrate the theme further. One of these is "The Story of Swet-Basanta" from Lal Behari Day, Folk-tales of Bengal, 1883, pp. 100 f. The hero is found by an elephant and made king of a land, where the successive sovereigns are killed every night mysteriously. He watches and sees something like a thread coming from the queen's nostrils. This proves to be a great serpent, which he kills, thus remaining as king. The other is from J. H. Knowles, Folk-tales of Kashmir, 1888, pp. 32 ff., "A Lach of Rupees for a Bit of Advice." A prince pays a lach of rupees for a paper containing four rules of conduct. His father exiles him for this extravagance. In his wanderings the prince finds a potter alternately laughing and crying because his son must soon marry a princess, who has to be wedded anew each night. So the prince marries the woman instead and kills two serpents that come from her nostrils, thus retaining the kingdom. In these two stories there is no question of aid coming to the hero; he is saved by his own watchfulness.

[73] Tobit, Danish III. (Andersen's tale), and Peele's Old Wives' Tale.

[74] For example, it appears in Schischmanoff's Legendes religieuses bulgares, 1896, pp. 194-201, side by side with our Bulgarian tale.

[75] I summarize from Koehler's reprint in Germania, iii. pp. 202 ff.

[76] Paspati's tale on pp. 605 ff. also has a dragon slain on a wedding night by a youth, who keeps watch. This single trait in a totally different setting must be borrowed from a Gypsy form of the simple or compound theme.

[77] See Annamite, Greek, Oliver, and Walewein. There is something approaching it in Rumanian I.

[78] Icelandic I.

[79] Simrock IV.

[80] See Hippe, p. 145.

[81] References to this story have been collected by G. Polivka, and printed in Archiv f. slav. Phil. xix. 251, in citing our Russian V. He says: "Vgl. Romanov, iv. S. 124, Nr. 65; Weryho, Pod. bialoruskie, S. 46; Khudyakov, i. Nr. 11, 12; Sadovnikov, S. 44, 310; Manzhura, 61; Dragomanov Mapor. Priep, S. 268 f.; Dowojna Sylwestrowicz, ii. 129 f.; Karlowicz, Nr. 19; Kolberg, viii. S. 138 f., Nr. 55, 56; xiv. S. 72 f., Nr. 16, 17; Ciszewski, i. Nr. 128; Kulda, iii. Nr. 14; Strohal, Nr. 18, 19; Kres, iv. S. 350, Nr. 19; Th. Vernaleken, Oesterr. K.H.M. S. 44 f.; Ul. Jahn, i. 92, 356; Proehle, Maerchen fuer die Jugend, S. 42; Wolf, D.H.M. 258 f.; Sebillot, Contes des marins, S. 38." As far as I have been able to ascertain, these references are all to the tale sketched above, uncompounded with The Grateful Dead. I must thank Professor Wiener for my knowledge of the Slavic forms, which he very generously examined for me as far as the books were available, viz. Romanov, Khudyakov, Sadovnikov, Manzura, Dragomanov, Sylwestrowicz, and Kolberg.

[82] See Hippe, pp. 145 f.

[83] For the test of friendship with an apple, see Koehler's notes in Gonzenbach, Sicil. Maerchen, ii. 259 f., and in Arch. f. slav. Phil. v. 44 ff.

[84] Hippe is in error, however, when he says (p. 178) that the division is everywhere modified in the European variants. See Russian II., IV., V. and VI., Bulgarian, and Esthonian II. Moreover, I believe that Hippe's theory puts the cart before the horse--that the actual division is not so ancient a trait as it seems. See pp. 74, 75 below.

[85] See Hippe, p. 146.

[86] See chapter vii.

[87] See p. 47, note, above.

[88] P. 19.

[89] See Hippe, pp. 148 f.

[90] See note by Schott, p. 473, in which he gives evidence based on personal knowledge, and Grimm, Geschichte der deutschen Sprache, p. 92. I have touched on the matter in Engl. Stud. xxxvi. 195-201.

[91] This trait is found not infrequently in other settings. See, for example, Vernaleken, Oesterreichische Kinder- und Hausmaerchen, p. 141.

[92] This trait recalls Puss in Boots, which is otherwise compounded with The Grateful Dead. See preceding chapter, p. 42, and p. 70 below.

[93] See chapter vii.

[94] Kennedy says, p. 38: "In some versions of 'Jack the Master,' etc., Jack the servant is the spirit of the dead man."

[95] Chapter vi.

[96] See chapter vii.

[97] The three rods with which the princess is flogged are found in Harz I. See pp. 69, 70 below.

[98] See p. 62, note 2.

[99] Pp. 10 f.

[100] Gayley, Representative English Comedies, 1903, pp. 333-384.

[101] P. 345.

[102] Pp. 176-178.

[103] Russian V. and VI. are, of course, exceptions, since the woman is there a vampire.

[104] See his scheme on page 181.

[105] See above, p. 1.

[106] See above, pp. 2 and 5.

[107] Pp. 170-175.

[108] P. 173.

[109] See also the school drama cited by Koehler, Germania III. 208 f. The elements of Der gute Gerhard, foreign to The Ransomed Woman, I have treated in the Publications of the Modern Lang. Ass. 1905, xx. 529-545.

[110] The same is true of the story related of St. Catharine, analyzed by Simrock, pp. 110-113, and cited by Hippe, p. 166, from Scala Celi, by Johannes Junior (Gobius), under Castitas. Hippe, as shown by his scheme on p. 181, places this under "Legendarische Formen mit Loskauf." As a matter of fact, it is plainly a specimen of The Calumniated Woman.

[111] Hippe's "Lithuanian II."

[112] Breton III., though placed here, has peculiar traits, which require special consideration.

[113] Koehler, followed by Hippe, p. 145, makes the hero live for fifteen years on the island, while Mme. Mijatovich gives the time as stated. As I have no knowledge of Servian, I cannot tell which is in the right. Hippe's analysis is otherwise faulty.

[114] See Hippe, p. 151.

[115] Ibid.

[116] Hippe fails to note that the hero used all his money on the first journey in burying the dead, and that it was on a second trip that he bought the king's daughter.

[117] Origenes de la Novela, ii. xcv.

[118] An odd inconsistency appears in the statement of the Latin that after the hero's second voyage "pater suus et mater" were angry with him.

[119] So, too, with Transylvanian. See above, pp. 79f.

[120] See Hippe, p. 150.

[121] See Hippe, p. 158.

[122] Hippe's brief analysis, p. 159, fails to give a satisfactory outline.

[123] Hippe's analysis, p. 159, is not quite adequate.

[124] Russian I. is the only other variant that I know which makes the dead man uneasy in his grave.

[125] So also in Servian I. and Icelandic II., cited above, as well as Bohemian and Simrock VII., for which see below.

[126] See pp. 79 f.

[127] See pp. 85-87.

[128] See Amis et Amiles und Jourdains de Blaivies, ed. K. Hofmann, 2nd ed. 1882; Amis und Amiloun zugleich mit der altfranzoesischen Quelle, ed. E. Koelbing, 1884, with the comprehensive discussion of versions in the introduction; also Koelbing, "Zur Ueberlieferung der Sage von Amicus und Amelius," in Paul und Braune's Beitraege iv. 271-314; etc.

[129] Hippe's analysis, p. 156, is different from mine, and is taken from a less trustworthy source. I use the summary of the Ghent text.

[130] See p. 49 for other tales in which the dead man is a friend of the hero's.

[131] Geschichte des spanischen Nationaldramas, i. 141.

[132] Sir Amadas, for which see p. 37.

[133] Irish I., for which see pp. 62 and 64, Breton I., p. 65, and Sir Amadas.

[134] vii.

[135] Hippe's Lithauische III.

[136] See Hippe, pp. 156 f.

[137] Thus III. makes the princess a daughter of the King of Portugal, as in I.; IV. gives no names whatever; and V. makes the heroine's father King of England.

[138] From Gascony, like III., IV., and V.

[139] The portraits are not displayed on the ship, but on Jean's carriage,--a curious deviation.

[140] See pp. 27 and 57.

[141] See chapter vii.

[142] See pp. 104 f.

[143] II. is the only version which has Jean make his first two voyages on land, a trait which contradicts the general testimony of the tales throughout the chapter.

[144] See pp. 85 f.

[145] P. 146.

[146] See The Legend of Perseus, E. S. Hartland, 1896, volume iii.

[147] See p. 103 above.

[148] In Jean de Calais IX. they set out together, but to the hero's home.

[149] So also in Transylvanian. Similarly the hero offers to give all of his wife, instead of dividing her, in Dianese, Old Swedish, and Old Wives' Tale.

[150] See pp. 100-102.

[151] See pp. 85 f.

[152] See pp. 105 f.

[153] See the paper by Kittredge, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xviii. 1-14, 1905.

[154] See pp. 107 f.

[155] In this connection it is cited by Kittredge in the study above mentioned, pp. 9 f.

[156] See p. 108.

[157] See p. 101.

[158] See pp. 31 f.

[159] The same loss is evident in Catalan, Spanish, Simrock I., and Simrock VII.

[160] See p. 27 for Jewish.

[161] That is, the rescue of the bridegroom from the creatures which possess the bride.

[162] See p. 4 above.

[163] Of course this excludes the group connected with Oliver, which has no proper connection with the compound type.

[164] The most adequate treatment of the motive yet published is by August Wuensche, Die Sagen vom Lebensbaum und Lebenswasser, 1905, pp. 90-104. This is the same study which had previously been printed in the Zts. f. vergleichende Litteraturgeschichte, 1899, N.F. xiii. 166-180, but is furnished with a new introduction and a few additional illustrations. Dr. Wuensche's monograph, thoroughgoing and conclusive as it is with reference to the myths of the Tree of life and the Water of Life, leaves much to be desired as an account of the folk-tale based on the latter belief. He himself says in his preface, p. iv: "Man sieht auch daraus, dass es sich um Wanderstoffe handelt, an die sich immer neue Elemente ankristallisiert haben." These elements he has not studied with any degree of completeness. Thus, for example, he does not use Cosquin's valuable contributions in Contes populaires de Lorraine, i. 212-222, which would have given him valuable assistance. The theme yet awaits definitive treatment.

[165] See Wuensche, p. 92.

[166] P. 71.

[167] "The Fountain of Youth," Journal of the American Oriental Society, xxvi. 1st half, 19 and 55.

[168] Hopkins, pp. 19, 42, 55, etc.

[169] Wuensche, p. iii: "Es sind altorientalische Mythen, die in alle Kulturreligionen uebergangen sind. Zeit und Ort haben ihnen ein sehr verschiedenes Gepraege gegeben, der Grundgedanke ist derselbe geblieben."

[170] P. 71. See also Hopkins, p. 55.

[171] Contes populaires de Lorraine, i. 213.

[172] Pp. 90 f.

[173] See pp. 125-127 below.

[174] Pp. 212-214. He regards the story in Wolf, Hausmaerchen, p. 230, as linking the two.

[175] P. 91. Cosquin, it will be noted, makes the fruit an alternative of the water of life.

[176] For example, "The Baker's Three Daughters" in Mrs. M. Carey's Fairy Legends of the French Provinces, 1887, pp. 86 ff., unites the water of life with both the magical apples and the bird.

[177] The need of such a study may be shown by stating that, while Wuensche has treated about thirty variants, I know at present of something like four times that number.

[178] See p. 118 above.

[179] This well-known maerchen has been treated by various scholars, most recently by G. L. Kittredge, in Arthur and Gorlagon (Studies and Notes in Philology and Literature, viii.) 1903, pp. 226 f., from whom I take the liberty of transcribing the following references, some of which would otherwise be unknown to me. In note 2 to p. 226 he says: "See Benfey, Das Maerchen von den 'Menschen mit den wunderbaren Eigenschaften,' Ausland, 1858, pp. 969 ff. (Kleinere Schriften II. iii. 94 ff.); Wesselofsky, in Giovanni da Prato, Il Paradiso degli Alberti, 1867, I. ii. 238 ff.; d'Ancona, Studj di Critica e Storia Letteraria, 1880, pp. 357-358; Koehler-Bolte, Ztsch. des Ver. f. Volkskunde, vi. 77; Koehler, Kleinere Schriften, i. 192 ff., 298 ff., 389-390, 431, 544; ii. 591; Cosquin, Contes pop. de Lorraine, i. 23 ff.; Crane, Italian Popular Tales, p. 67; Nutt, in MacInnes, Folk and Hero Tales, pp. 445 ff.; Laistner, Raetsel der Sphinx ii. 357 ff.; Steel, Tales of the Punjab, pp. 42 ff.; Jurkschat, Litauische Maerchen, pp. 29 ff.; etc." A peculiarly interesting specimen is that in Blade, Contes pop. de la Gascogne, 1886, iii. 12-22. See also Luzel, Contes pop. de Basse-Bretagne, 1887, iii. 296-311; Carnoy and Nicolaides, Traditions pop. de l'Asie Mineure, 1889, pp. 43-56; and Goldschmidt, Russische Maerchen, 1883, pp. 69-78.

[180] So I venture to call the story of the woman, who through enchantment or her own bad taste is the mistress of an ogre or some other monster. She is rescued by a hero, who is able to solve the extraordinary riddles or to accomplish the apparently impossible tasks which she sets him at the advice of the monster, after other suitors have perished in the attempt. See Kittredge, Arthur and Gorlagon, p. 250 (note to p. 249); Wesselofsky, Arch. f. slav. Phil. vi. 574. A good specimen tale is "The Magic Turban" in R. Nisbet Bain's Turkish Fairy Tales, 1901, pp. 102-111.

[181] Kittredge thus summarizes the tale (work cited, p. 226): "Three or more brothers (or comrades) are suitors for the hand of a beautiful girl. While her father is deliberating, the girl disappears. The companions undertake to recover her. One of them, by contemplation (or by keenness of sight), finds that she has been stolen by a demon (or dragon) and taken to his abode on a rock in the sea. Another builds a ship by his magic (or possesses a magic ship) which instantly transports them to the rock. Another, who is a skilful climber, ascends the castle and finds that the monster is asleep with his head in the maiden's lap. Another, a master thief, steals the girl without waking her captor. They embark, but are pursued by the monster. One of the companions, an unerring shot, kills the pursuer with an arrow. The girl is restored to her parents." This analysis would not hold for all variants, even when uncompounded (e.g. Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmaerchen, No. 71, "Sechse kommen durch die ganze Welt") but a better could scarcely be made without a systematic study of the type. As Kittredge notes, the companions are not at all constant in number and function.

[182] Hungarian I., Rumanian II., Straparola II., Sicilian, and Treu Heinrich.

[183] Thus Hungarian I. and Rumanian II. with Polish, Sicilian with Harz II.

[184] Possibly a trace of some such story as The Quest of the Sword of Light discussed by Kittredge, Arthur and Gorlagon, pp. 214 ff.

[185] Since twelve brothers set out to win twelve sisters, there is probably a union here with the widespread tale of The Brothers and Sisters.

[186] The ship that will travel equally well on land and water is seemingly a common trait in forms of The Skilful Companions. See the variant cited from Blade on p. 125, note 3. It occurs in a curious tale from Mauritius, given by Baissac, Le Folk-lore de l'Ile-Maurice, 1888, p. 78.

[187] For examples of stories in which a king's son liberates one or more prisoners, and has the service returned in an emergency, see Child, English and Scottish Popular Ballads, v. 42-48.

[188] See Jonckbloet, ii. 131 ff.

[189] Paris, Hist. litt. de la France, xxx. 82.

[190] The only instance known to me where such transformation occurs with reference to the hero.

[191] Walewein and Lotharingian.

[192] Like the wolf in Guillaume de Palerne, which is likewise a transformed prince.

[193] Lotharingian comes from a region farther north than any other, since the Dutch romance is merely a translation from Old French. Simrock IX. is from Tyrol.

[194] See pp. 133-135.

[195] I include all the tales treated in this chapter.

[196] See pp. 58-73.

[197] See p. 126, note 1.

[198] See p. 134.

[199] See p. 133, note 2.

[200] See pp. 92 ff. above, and pp. 156-158 below.

[201] With the form The Grateful Dead + The Water of Life simply.

[202] Pp. 107 f., 111-115.

[203] See pp. 133 f.

[204] See pp. 145-147.

[205] See pp. 146 f.

[206] P. 143.

[207] The date of Treu Heinrich. This gives the date a quo.

[208] The compound existed before the fourteenth century certainly. See pp. 117 f.

[209] The date is here determined by the existence of Walewein.

[210] Brazilian.

[211] Venetian has, however, united with other material, which may account for this in the one case.

[212] The date of Straparola, one of whose stories belongs to this class.

[213] The compound The Grateful Dead + The Poison Maiden had been in existence since the end of the first century, as Tobit proves.

[214] See pp. 89 f.

[215] See pp. 33-40.

[216] See pp. 92-96.

[217] See pp. 131-134.

[218] P. 149.

[219] The date of Richars.

[220] See pp. 50, 58.

[221] See pp. 92-111.

[222] See p. 92.

[223] As in Lithuanian II., Breton VII., Simrock I., and Factor's Garland.

[224] As in Transylvanian.

[225] As in Jean de Calais I.-X., Basque II., Irish I., Breton I. and III., Simrock II. and VIII., and Sir Amadas.

[226] As in Gaelic.

[227] See p. 95.

[228] See pp. 93 f.

[229] See p. 94.

[230] See references in Publ. Mod. Lang. Ass. xx. 545.

[231] See my article in Publ. Mod. Lang. Ass. xix. 427, 430-432.

[232] Pantschatantra, i. Sec.71.

[233] i. 207.

[234] i. 219.

[235] Pp. 126 f.

[236] See p. 27.

[237] So in Polish of the type The Grateful Dead + The Water of Life the ghost appears as a plank. See p. 128.

[238] See p. 57.

[239] See pp. 100-102, 104 f.

[240] See pp. 108 ff.

[241] See pp. 115 f.

[242] See pp. 112 f.

[243] See pp. 135 ff.

[244] See also p. 151.

[245] See pp. 28 f.

[246] See the comment of von der Leyen, Arch. j. d. St. d. n. Spr. cxiv. 12.

[247] ii. 136.

[248] ii. 121. The story, however, belongs to the domain of general literature.

[249] See A. Wiedemann, Die Toten und ihre Reiche im Glauben der alten Aegypter, p. 21 (Der alte Orient, ii, 1900).

[250] Zend-Avesta, Vendidad, chaps, v. xii.

[251] x. 18. 1.

[252] Iliad, xxiii. 71 ff.

[253] ix. 32.

[254] See pp. 26 f.

[255] Ed. Bartsch, xviii. st. 910 and 911.

[256] P. 27.

[257] P. 28.

[258] Traditions et superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne, 1882, i. 238 f.

[259] MacCulloch, Guernsey Folk Lore, 1903, pp. 283 f.

[260] See W. Crooke in Folk-Lore, xiii. 280-283.

[261] Book iii. w. 4726 ff. of the whole poem (2nd ed. J. Small, 1883, E. E. T. S. orig. ser. 11, p. 153).

[262] Annamite is an exception, but it cannot be regarded as having any organic connection with the cycle.

[263] See Heidelberger Jahrbuecher, 1868, p. 449.

[264] Ruling out Simonides, of course, as not clearly belonging to the cycle.

[265] Siberian, it will be remembered, is of the same type as Tobit.

[266] See Hertz, pp. 151-155.

[267] For examples, see Hertz, pp. 106-115.

[268] It is not clear whether she was actually divided in the primitive forms, or merely threatened. In either case the union would take place as stated.

[269] Armenian and Siberian give adequate evidence as to the truth of the latter statement, though more Asiatic variants of this type are to be desired.

[270] Servian III., Esthonian II., and Rumanian I.

[271] See p. 82.

[272] See pp. 116 f.

[273] See pp. 40 f.

[274] See pp. 125-127, 151 f.

[275] See the author's study, "Forerunners, Congeners, and Derivatives of the Eustace Legend" in Publ. Mod. Lang. Ass. xix. 335-448.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Grateful Dead, by Gordon Hall Gerould