University of Virginia Library

MORAVIAN STORIES

MORAVIA is so named from the river Morava (in
German the river March), of which, and its affluents,
it is the basin. It falls into the Danube a little above Presburg.
In very early times Moravia appears to have been more
civilized and powerful than Bohemia; but later, Bohemia
became a considerable kingdom, and Moravia a dependency
of, and eventually a margravate under the Bohemian crown.

The Moravian stories differ but little in character from
those of Bohemia. The country, unlike Bohemia, abounds
in dialects, although the literary language is the Bohemian.
On the east the Moravian melts into the Silesian, or `Water-Polish.'

No. 8, `Godmother Death,' is an interesting variant of
the Teutonic `Godfather Death,' which is given by Grimm.
The reason why Death is represented as a Godmother,
rather than a Godfather, in the Moravian story, is, that
Death (Smrt) is feminine in all Slavonic dialects. The
story constructed on this basis is more graceful and fuller of
incident than the Teutonic tale, in which Death is masculine.

No. 9 is another story falling under the head of `Natural
Science in Allegory,' which is clearer and simpler in construction
and interpretation than any variant of it that I am
acquainted with.

VIII.—GODMOTHER DEATH.

There was a man, very poor in this world's goods, whose
wife presented him with a baby boy. No one was willing
to stand sponsor, because he was so very poor. The father
said to himself: `Dear Lord, I am so poor that no one is
willing to be at my service in this matter; I'll take the
baby, I'll go, and I'll ask the first person I meet to act as
sponsor, and if I don't meet anybody, perhaps the sexton will
help me.' He went and met Death, but didn't know what
manner of person she was; she was a handsome woman,
like any other woman. He asked her to be godmother.
She didn't make any excuse, and immediately saluted him
as parent of her godchild, took the baby in her arms, and
carried him to church. The little lad was properly christened.
When they came out of church, the child's father took the
godmother to an inn, and wanted to give her a little treat as
godmother. But she said to him, `Gossip,[1] leave this alone,
and come with me to my abode.' She took him with her
to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished.
Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through
these vaults they went right into the under-world in the dark.
There tapers were burning of three sizes—small, large, and
middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very
large. The godmother said to the godchild's father: `Look,
Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody's life.' The
child's father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close
to the very ground, and asked her: `But, Gossip, I pray
you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?' She
said to him: `That is yours! When any taper whatsoever

burns down, I must go for that man.' He said to her:
`Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.' She
said to him: `Gossip, I cannot do that!' Afterwards she
went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom
they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother
was not looking, the child's father took for himself a large
new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was
burning down.

The godmother looked round at him and said: `Gossip,
you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given
yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess
it. Let us go hence, and we'll go to your wife.'

She took a present, and went with the child's father and
the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on
his mother's bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she
had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to
her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain
her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and
show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards
the godmother said to her godchild's father: `Gossip,
you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your
service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in
memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable
people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure
them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all,
and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only
observe this: When I stand at anyone's feet, you can be of
assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody's
head, don't attempt to aid him.' It came to pass. The
child's father went from patient to patient, where the godmother
caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once
he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying—
nay, he had breathed his last—nevertheless, they sent for the
physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves

and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had
restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking
how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying.
They sent for the physician again. The physician came.
Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician
cried: `It's a bad case, but we'll have a try.' He
summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed
round with the patient's feet towards Death, and began to
anoint him with salves and administer powders into his
mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return
as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how
much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had
restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she
said to him: `Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don't play
me that trick any more. True, you have done him good,
but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off
whither he is due.' The child's father went on in this way
for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was
wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death
was unable to take him, because he had given himself
a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it
burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to
restore him to health, and did so. Afterwards Death revealed
herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage.
She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a
green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap,
and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the
carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician
lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The
whole town and all the villages lamented: `That physician
is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He
was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!'
His son remained after him, but had not the same skill.

The son went one day into church, and his godmother met

him. She asked him: `My dear son, how are you?' He said to
her: `Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up
for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows
how it will be with me.' His godmother said: `Well, my
son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped
your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood.
You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall
be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.' After this she
anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him
to a physician. The physician didn't know what manner of
lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction.
The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested
the physician to instruct him well, and bring him
into a good position. Then she took leave of him and
departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather
herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial
virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also
gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb,
what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil's herbs were
beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil:
`You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to
me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you
know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor's
diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing
to be with you till death.' The lad was successful in doctoring
and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.

IX.—THE FOUR BROTHERS.

THERE was, once upon a time, a huntsman who had four
sons, and these sons wanted to go to gain experience in the
world. When they were all over sixteen years old, they said
to their father: `We are going into the world, father; we
pray you give us money for our journey.' The father gave

them 100 florins and a horse apiece. They mounted their
horses and rode to the mountains. On a mountain were
four roads, and between them stood a beech-tree. At this
beech-tree they halted, and the eldest said to the rest,
`Brothers, let us separate here, and go each by a different
road to seek his fortune in the world. Let us each stick
his knife into this beech-tree, and in a year and a day let us
all meet together here. These knives will be tokens for us;
if any one of the knives is rusty, the one of us to whom it
belongs will be dead; and he whose knife is free from rust
will be alive and well.' They separated, and went each his
way, and when they came to suitable places they each
learned a handicraft. The eldest learned to be a cobbler,
the second to be a thief, the third to be an astrologer, and
the fourth to be a huntsman. When the year and day
arrived, they started on their return. The eldest came first
to the beech-tree, pulled out his own knife and looked at
the other knives. Seeing that they were all free from rust,
he rejoiced, and said, `Praise be to God! we are all alive
and well.' He went home. When he came to his father,
his father asked him, `What manner of handicraft have you
learnt?' The son replied, `Daddy, it's no use telling you
stories; I'm a cobbler.' The father said, `Well, you've
learned a nice gainful handicraft.' The son answered, `But,
daddy, I'm not a cobbler like other cobblers, but I'm this
kind of cobbler: if anything is worn out, I only say, "Let
it be mended up," and it is so at once.' The father had a
coat worn out at the elbows, and told him to cobble it up.
The son gave the command, `Let it be mended up,' and in
a moment the coat was mended up as if it were brand new,
nor was it possible to know that it had been mended at all.
Upon this the father said nothing more. The next day the
second son came to the beech. He pulled out his own
knife, and looked at the remaining two; the third was
already gone. Seeing that they were both free from rust,
he rejoiced, and said, `Praise be to God! we are all alive
and well; our eldest brother is at home already.' He also
went home. When he came to his father, his father asked
him, `What manner of handicraft have you learned?' The
son replied, `Dear daddy, it's no use telling stories to you;
I'm a thief.' The father said, `Oh, you've learned a nice
gainful trade! Shame on you!' The son said to him,
`But, daddy, I'm not a thief like a thief, but I'm such a
thief that, if I think of anything, be it where it may, I have
it with me at once.' . Just then a hare came running on the
hillside; it could be seen through the window; the father
told him to fetch the hare. The son immediately said, `Let
yon hare be here,' and it was with them at once. After this
the father said no more. The third day the third son came
to the beech, pulled out his own knife and looked at the
other knife, two not being there. Seeing that it was clear
of rust, he said, `Praise be to God! we are all alive and
well; my two elder brothers are at home already.' He also
went home. When he came to his father, his father asked
him what manner of handicraft he had learned. The son
replied, `Dear daddy, it's no use to tell you stories; I'm
an astrologer.' His father said to him that it was a nice
pretty handicraft. The son answered, `But, daddy, I am
this kind of astrologer: if I look at the sky, I see at once
where anything is in the whole earth.' On the fourth day
the youngest son came to the beech and pulled out his
knife, the other three being there no longer. He was glad,
and said, `My brothers are already all at home.' He also
went home. When he came to his father, the father asked
him what manner of handicraft he had learned. The son
answered that he was a huntsman. The father said, `Anyhow,
you have not despised my craft; for that you're a good
lad.' The son said, `But, dear daddy, I'm not such a huntsman
as you are, but one of this kind; if there is an unusually
fine head of game, I say, `Let it be shot,' and immediately
shot it is.' There was a hare darting along the
hillside; it was visible through the window. The father
said, `Shoot it!' The youngest son spoke the word, and
the hare lay dead. The father said, `I don't see whether it
is lying dead.' The astrologer looked at the sky, and said,
`Yes, daddy, it's lying there behind the bushes.' The father
said, `Yes, it's lying there, but how are we to get it?' The
brother who was a thief said, `Let it be here,' and immediately
there it was. But it had come through thorny bushes,
and was all torn. The father said, `The whole skin is torn;
who'll buy it of us?' The brother who was a cobbler said,
`Let it be mended up,' and immediately mended up it was.
The father said, `Well, you'll all four maintain yourselves
by your handicrafts.'

They lived for some time at home with their father, and
maintained themselves well. Then a king lost the princess,
his daughter, and made proclamation that whoever should
find her, to that person he would give his daughter and the
kingdom as well. The brothers said to one another, `Let
us go thither.' The father didn't give them leave to go, but
go they did, and gave out that they were the people who
would find the lost princess. The king immediately sent a
carriage for them. When they came to the king, they said
that they understood he had made proclamation that his
daughter was lost, and that he would give her and the kingdom
as well to whoever should find her. The king said
that this was very truth, and immediately asked them to tell
him where his daughter was. The astrologer replied that
he could not tell him just then, but when evening came he
would perceive in the sky where she was. About eight or
nine o'clock they went out and gazed at the sky. The
astrologer said that she had been taken captive by a dragon;

that the dragon had seized her as she was out walking, and
was keeping her on an island beyond the Red Sea; that she
was obliged to fondle him for two hours every day, and that
the dragon then had his head placed on her lap. When
day came, they assembled and drove in the carriage to the
Red Sea. Then they got into a boat and rowed to the
island where the princess was. When they arrived at the
island, the princess was out walking, and the dragon wasn't
at home; but the princess made signs to them that they
were in evil case, for the dragon was just flying home. The
thief-brother called out with speed, `Let the princess be
here!' She was with them in the boat at once, but cried
out that they were in evil case, and would all perish. They
rowed speedily away in the boat, but the dragon, full of
wrath, roared and growled and rose in the air above them.
The astrologer said to the huntsman, `Brother, shoot him.'
The huntsman-brother said, `Let him be shot.' The dragon
was shot, but fell on the boat and broke a hole in it, so that
the water came in. They threw the dragon into the sea,
and the huntsman-brother gave the word to the cobbler-brother,
`Mend the leak.' The cobbler-brother mended
the leak, so that not a drop of water came into the boat to
them. Thus they arrived safely with the princess at the
sea-shore, landed on the beach, took their seats in the carriage
with the princess, and drove off. But as they drove
along in the carriage, they disputed to which of them the
princess and the kingdom belonged. The astrologer said,
`The princess is mine. If it hadn't been for me, we
shouldn't have known where the princess was.' The thief
said, `The princess is mine. If it hadn't been for me, we
shouldn't have got the princess into the boat.' The huntsman
said that the princess was his; if it hadn't been for
him, they wouldn't have shot the dragon. The cobbler
shouted that the princess was his; if it hadn't been for him,
they would all have been drowned and have perished.
When they came to the palace to the king, they asked him
to decide to whom the princess belonged. The king said,
`Dear brothers, I will judge you righteously. It is true
that you have all deserved her, but you cannot all obtain
her. According to my promise, the astrologer-brother must
obtain her, for I made proclamation that whoever should
find the lost princess should obtain her and the kingdom
with her; the astrologer found her, and told us where she
was. But, that none of you may be unfairly dealt with,
each shall receive a district of his own, and ye shall each be
kings in your own districts.' They were all content. The
astrologer, as soon as the wedding was over, sent home for
his father. The father came, and was delighted that his
sons had become monarchs each in his district. In the
spring he lived with the cobbler, in the summer with the
thief, in the autumn with the huntsman, and in winter
with the astrologer, and enjoyed himself everywhere till
death.

I think that this story is connected with the Ceres and
Proserpine cycle, only the daughter is lost by a father
instead of a mother. It will be seen, also, that at the conclusion
of the story the order of the brothers is not the same
as in the story itself. And I think the error is in the story,
and that the astrologer ought to have been the youngest
brother instead of the huntsman. The brothers are the
four seasons of the year, which in ancient times began with
spring, the cobbler, who mends up all things, and makes
them new again; next comes summer, the thief, who gathers
the products of the earth; third comes autumn, the huntsman,
when the wild animals that have increased and multiplied
during the year are destroyed and reduced within

limits; last comes winter, the astrologer, when ploughing,
sowing, and other agricultural operations that govern the
whole year go on by calculation. Thus the princess herself,
the earth or its fertility, is assigned to the representative of
winter, while the other seasons are lords each in his own
district.

This Moravian tale will bear an advantageous comparison
with Grimm's tale of the `Four Accomplished Brothers,'
in which neither of the brothers is allowed to obtain the
princess.