Basque Legends; With an Essay on the Basque Language

The father said to him, “I prefer to remain blind rather than to separate myself from you, my child.”

The son says to him, “Have no fear for me; with a horse laden with money I will find it and bring it to you.”

He goes off then, far, far, far away. When night came he stopped. One evening he stopped at an inn where there were three very beautiful young ladies. They said to him that they must have a game of cards together. He refuses; but after many prayers and much pressing they begin. He loses all his money, his horse, and also has a large debt against his word of honour. In this country it was the custom for persons who did not pay their debts to be put in prison, and if they did not pay after a given time they were put to death, and then afterwards they were left at the church doors until someone should pay their debts.161 They therefore put this king’s son in prison.

The second son, seeing that his brother did not return, said to his father that he wished to go off, (and asked him) to give him a horse and plenty of money, and that certainly he would not lose his time. He sets off, and, as was fated to occur, he goes to the inn where his brother had been ruined. After supper these young ladies say to him:

“You must have a game of cards with us.”

He refuses, but these young ladies cajole him so well, and turn him round their fingers, that he ends by consenting. They begin then, and he also loses all his money, his horse, and makes a great many debts besides. They put him in prison like his brother.

After some time the king and his youngest son are in deep grief because some misfortune must have happened to them, and the youngest asks leave to set out.

“I assure you that I will do something. Have no anxiety on my account.”

This poor father lets him go off, but not with a good will. He kept saying to him that he would prefer to be always blind; but the son would set off. His father gives him a beautiful horse, and as much gold as his horse could carry, and his crown. He goes off far, far, far away. They rested every night, and he happened, like his brothers, to go to the same inn. After supper these young ladies say to him:

“It is the custom for everyone to play at cards here.”

He says that it is not for him, and that he will not play. The young ladies beg him ever so much, but they do not succeed with this one in any fashion whatever. They cannot make him play. The next morning he gets up early, takes his horse, and goes off. He sees that they are leading two men to death. He asks what they have done, and recognises his two brothers. They tell him that they have not paid their debts within the appointed time, and that they must be put to death. But he pays the debts of both, and goes on. Passing before the church he sees that they are doing something. He asks what it is. They tell him that it is a man who has left some debts, and that until someone pays them he will be left there still. He pays the debts again.

He goes on his journey, and arrives at last at the king’s house where the blackbird was. Our king’s son asks if they have not a white blackbird which restores sight. They tell him, “Yes.” Our young gentleman relates how that his father is blind, and that he has come such a long way to fetch it to him.

The king says to him, “I will give you this white blackbird, when you shall have brought me from the house of such a king a young lady who is there.”

Our young man goes off far, far, far away. When he is near the king’s house a fox162 comes out and says to him, “Where are you going to?”

He answers, “I want a young lady from the king’s house.”

He gives his horse to the fox to take care of, and the fox says to him:

“You will go to such a room; there will be the young lady whom you need. You will not recognise her because she has old clothes on, but there are beautiful dresses hanging up in the room. You will make her put on one of those. As soon as she shall have it on, she will begin to sing and will wake up everybody in the house.”

He goes inside as the fox had told him. He finds the young lady. He makes her put on the beautiful dresses, and as soon as she has them on she begins to sing and to carol. Everyone rushes into this young lady’s room. The king in a rage wished to put him in prison, but the king’s son shows his crown, and tells how such a king sent him to fetch this young lady, and when once he has brought her he promises him the white blackbird to open his father’s eyes.

The king then says to him, “You must go to the house of such a king, and you must bring me from there a white horse, which is very, very beautiful.”

Our young man sets out, and goes on, and on, and on. As he comes near the house of the king, the fox appears to him and says to him:

“The horse which you want is in such a place, but he has a bad saddle on. You will put on him that which is hanging up, and which is handsome and brilliant. As soon as he shall have it on he will begin to neigh, so much as not to be able to stop.163 All the king’s people will come to see what is happening, but with your crown you will always get off scot free.”

He goes off as the fox had said to him. He finds the horse with the bad saddle, and puts on him the fine one, and then the horse begins to neigh and cannot stop himself. People arrive, and they wish to put the young man in prison, but he shows them his crown, and relates what king had sent him to fetch this horse in order to get a young lady. They give him the horse, and he sets off.

He comes to the house of the king where the young lady was. He shows his horse with its beautiful saddle, and asks the king if he would not like to see the young lady take a few turns on this beautiful horse in the courtyard. The king says, “Yes.” As the young lady was very handsomely dressed when she mounted the horse, our young man gives the horse a little touch with his stick, and they set off like the lightning. The king’s son follows them, and they go both together to the king who had the white blackbird. They ask him for the blackbird, and the bird goes of itself on to the knees of the young lady, who was still on horseback. The king’s son gives him a blow, and they set off at full gallop; he also escapes in order to rejoin them. They journey a long, long time, and approach their city.

His brothers had heard the news how that their brother was coming with the white blackbird. These two brothers had come back at last to their father’s house, and they had told their father a hundred falsehoods; how that robbers had taken away their money, and many things like that. The two brothers plotted together, and said that they must hinder their brother from reaching the house, and that they must rob him of the blackbird.

They keep expecting him always. One day they saw him coming, and they say that they must throw him into a cistern,164 and they do as they say. They take the blackbird and throw him and the lady into the water, and leave the horse outside. The fox comes to them on the brink of the cistern, and says to them:

“I will leap in there; you will take hold of my tail one by one, and I will save you.”

The two wicked brothers had taken the blackbird, but he escaped from them as they entered the house, and went on to the white horse. Judge of the joy of the youngest brother when he sees that nothing is wanting to them! They go to the king. As soon as they enter the young lady begins to carol and to sing, the bird too, and the horse to neigh. The blackbird of its own accord goes on to the king’s knees, and there by its songs restored him to sight. The son relates to his father what labours he underwent until he had found these three things, and he told him how he had saved two men condemned to death by paying their debts, and that they were his two brothers; that he had also paid the debts of a dead man, and that his soul (the fox was his soul) had saved him from the cistern into which his brothers had thrown him.

Think of the joy of the father, and his sorrow at the same time, when he saw how wisely this young son had always behaved, and how wicked his two brothers had been. As he had well earned her, he was married to the young lady whom he had brought away with him, and they lived happily and joyfully. The father sent the two brothers into the desert to do penance. If they had lived well, they would have died well.

The Sister and her Seven Brothers

There was a man and a woman very poor, and over-burdened with children. They had seven boys. When they had grown up a little, they said to their mother that it would be better that they should go on their own way—that they would get on better like that. The mother let them go with great regret. After their departure she gave birth to a little girl, and when this little girl was grown up a little she went one day to a neighbor’s to amuse herself, and having played some childish trick the neighbor said to her:

“You will be a good one, you too, as your brothers have been.”165

The child goes home and says to her mother, “Mother, have I some brothers?”166

The mother says, “Yes.”

“Where are they?”

“Oh, gone off somewhere.”

The daughter said to her, “I must go too, then. Give me a piece of linen enough to make seven shirts.”

And she would go off at once. The mother was very sorry for it, having already seven children away from home, and the only one she had wished to go away. She let her go then.

This young girl went off, far, far, far away. She asks in a town if they know seven brothers who work together. They tell her “No.” She goes off to a mountain and asks there too, and they tell her in what house they live. She goes to this house, and sees that all the household work is to be done, and that there is nobody at home. She makes the beds, and cleans the whole house, and puts it in order. She prepares the dinner, and then hides herself in the dust-hole. Her brothers come home, and are astonished to see all the household work done and the dinner ready. They begin to look if there is anyone in the house, but they never think of looking in the dust-hole, and they go off again to their work. Before night this young girl does all the rest of the work, and had the supper ready against the return of her brothers, and hides herself again in the dust-hole. Her brothers are astonished, and again search the house, but find nothing.

They go to bed, and this young girl takes to sewing and sews a whole shirt. She gives it to her eldest brother, and in the same way she made a shirt every night, and took it to one of her brothers. They could not understand how that all happened. They always said that they would not go to sleep, but they fell asleep as soon as they were in bed. When the turn of the youngest came to have the shirt, he said to them, “Certainly I will not fall asleep.” After he is in bed the young girl goes and says to him, thinking that he is asleep:

“Your turn has come now at last, my dearly loved brother.”

And she begins to put the shirt on him on the bed, when her brother says to her:

“You are then my sister, you?”

And he kisses her. She tells him then how she had heard that she had brothers, and how she had wished to go to them to help them. The other brothers get up and rejoice, learning that it was their sister who had done all the household work.

The brothers forbad her ever to go to such a neighbour’s, whatever might happen. But one day, without thinking about it, when she was behindhand with her work, she went running to the house to ask for some fire,167 in order to make the supper ready quicker. She was very well received; the woman offered to give her everything she wanted, but she said she was satisfied with a little fire. This woman was a witch, and gives her a parcel of herbs, telling her to put them as they were into the footbath—that they relieved the fatigue very much.168 Every evening the seven brothers washed their feet at the same time in a large copper. She therefore put these herbs into the copper, and as soon as they had dipped their feet in they became six cows, and the seventh a Breton cow.169 This poor girl was in such trouble as cannot be told. The poor cows all used to kiss their sister, but the young girl always loved much best the Breton one. Every day she took them to the field, and stopped with them to guard them.

One day when she was there the son of a king passes by, and is quite astonished to see so beautiful a girl there. He speaks to her, and tells her that he wishes to marry her. The young girl says to him that she is very poor, and that that cannot be. The king says, “Yes, yes, yes, that makes no difference.”

The young girl makes as conditions that, if she marries him, he must never kill these cows, and especially this little Breton one.170 The king promises it her, and they are married.

The princess takes these cows home with her; they were always well treated. The princess became pregnant, and was confined while the king was absent. The witch comes, and takes her out of her bed, and throws her down a precipice that there was in the king’s grounds, and the witch puts herself into the princess’ bed. When the king comes home, he finds her very much changed, and tells her that he would not have recognised her. The princess tells him that it was her sufferings that had made her thus, and, in order to cure her more quickly, he must have the Breton cow killed.

The king says to her—

“What! Did you not make me promise that she should never be killed? How is it you ask me that?”

The witch considered that one her greatest enemy; and, as she left him no peace, he sent a servant to fetch the cows. He finds them all seven by the precipice; they were lowing, and he tried to drive them to the house, but he could not do it in any way; and he hears a voice, which says,

“It is not for myself that I grieve so much, but for my child, and for my husband, and for my dearly-loved cows. Who will take care of them?”

The lad could not succeed (in driving them), and goes and tells to the king what is taking place. The king himself goes to the precipice, and hears this voice. He quickly throws a long cord down, and, when he thinks that she has had time to take hold of it, he pulls it up, and sees that they have got the princess there. Judge of the joy of the king! She relates to her husband all that the witch had done to her, both formerly and now. The king goes to the witch’s bed, and says to her,

“I know your villanies now; and, if you do not immediately change these cows, as they were before, into fine boys, I will put you into a red-hot oven.”

The witch makes them fine men, and, notwithstanding that, the king had her burnt in a red-hot oven, and threw her ashes into the air. The king lived happily with his wife, and her seven brothers married ladies of the court, and sent for their mother, and they all lived happily together.

Louise Lanusse.

We have also, in Basque, a version of Madame d’Aulnoy’s “Abenan.” It seems to be a mixture of various legends strung together by this fanciful writer; but we do not think it worth either our own or our readers’ while to try to disentangle its separate parts. The pretty little tale of “The Faded Roses” has been told us from two quite different sources. This tale, though without doubt derived from the French, we can trace up in Basque further than any other. It was told us by a lady of between seventy and eighty, who heard it as a child from an old nurse, whom she distinctly remembers to have told her that she learnt it as a child from her mother. It must thus have existed in Basque over a century.

We have also two versions of Tom Thumb, who is called in the one “Ukhailtcho,” or “Baratchuri”—“a clove of garlic;”171 in the other, “Mundua-mila-pes,” both containing the episode of his being swallowed by an ox; in the last, he himself is swallowed, as they are washing out the ox’ entrails, by “a thief of a dog”—“Ohoñ chakhurra.” It is singular that the same episode is preserved in the Gaelic; cf. Campbell, Vol. III., p. 114.

We have in MS. a long Rabelesian legend, which opens like Cenac-Moncaut’s tale of “Le Coffret de la Princesse,” in his “Littérature Populaire de la Gascogne” (Paris, 1868). A king will give one of his daughters to whoever can guess what the skin of a certain animal is. It is the devil who guesses it, and who marries the princess. She is saved by the “white mare,” which appears in so many of our tales. She then dresses as a man, but, nevertheless, a prince falls in love with her; and then follow a lot of scenes, the converse of the adventure of Achilles in Scyros. They marry; but, after seven years, the devil-husband reappears. After strange adventures, they are again succoured and united by the “white mare,” who binds the devil for ever, and then flies to heaven as a white pigeon, and the rest live happily ever after. This legend is from “Laurentine, Sister of Toutou,” and may be mingled with Cascarrot legends. We have given it as derived from the French, partly because the heroine’s name is Fifine, and because this, and “Petit Perroquet and the Tartaro,” are the only tales in our collection in which the term “prince” is employed in the Basque instead of “the king’s son.” Cf. Campbell’s “Highland Tales,” passim.

We owe the following notes to the kindness of M. H. Vinson, Judge at La Réole, Gironde. They may be of assistance to some of our readers in the endeavour to trace out the length of time which is required for the translations of exotic legends to become popular traditions among a people who know the language of the translation only by “social contact.”

[99] To these should perhaps be added the Latin of the Dolopathos and “Gesta Romanorum” of the 12th or 13th century.

VII.—Religious Tales

We give these tales simply as specimens of a literature which in mediæval times rivalled in popularity and interest all other kinds of literature put together. That even yet it is not without attraction, and that to minds which in some aspects seem most opposed to its influence, the preface of the late Charles Kingsley to “The Hermits” conclusively shows. Such tales have, too, a deeper interest to all who study the manner in which at a certain stage of intellectual cultivation the human mind seems alone able to take hold upon religious truth; or, at least, the side on which it is then most susceptible to its impressions. It is easy enough to laugh at these legends, and to throw them aside in contempt, as alternately irreverent or superstitious; but their very existence has an historical value which no ecclesiastical historian should neglect. Their grossness and rudeness to a great extent hide from us their real tenderness and true religious feeling; but they were, doubtless, to those who first heard them, and are still to those who now recite them, fully as instructive, and have quite as beneficial, purifying, and ennobling influence on them as the most polished and refined of the religious tales of the present day have on the young of our own generation.

Fourteen. 172

Like many others in the world, there was a mother and her son. The lad was as strong as fourteen men together, but he was also obliged to eat as much as fourteen men. They were poor, and on that account he often suffered from hunger. He said one day to his mother, that it would be better for him to try and go somewhere else to see if he could be any better off; that he could not bear it any longer like this; that he was pained to see how much it cost her to feed him.

The mother with regret allows him to depart. He goes off then far, far, far away, and comes to a large house. He asks if they want a servant there, and they answer that they will speak to the master. The master himself comes and says to him, “I employ experienced labourers generally, but I will take you nevertheless.”

The lad answers, “I must forewarn you, that I eat as much as fourteen men, but I do work in proportion.”

He asks him, “What do you know how to do?”

He says to him, “I know a little of everything.”

The next day the master takes him into a field, and says to him:

“You must mow all this meadow.” He says to him, “Yes.”

The master goes away. At eight o’clock the servant comes with the breakfast. She had a basket full of provisions; there were six loaves, half a ham, and six bottles of wine. Our lad was delighted. The servant was astonished to see that all the meadow was mown, and she goes and tells it to the master. He too was pleased to see that he had such a valuable servant. He tells him to go and cut another meadow. Before mid-day he had it all down. The servant comes with the dinner, and was astonished to see how much work he had done. She brought him seven loaves, seven bottles of wine, and ever so much ham, but he cleared it all off. The master gives him again another field of grass to cut. Before night he had done it easily. Our master was delighted at it, and gave him plenty to eat. The servant too was highly pleased.

As long as he had work the master said nothing, but afterwards, when he saw that all the harvest served only for the servant to eat, he did not know how to get rid of him. He sends him to a forest in which he knew that there were terrible beasts, and told him to bring wood from there. As soon as he has arrived a bear attacks him. He takes him by the nostrils and throws him on the ground, and twists his neck. He keeps pulling up all the young trees, and again a wolf attacks him; he takes him like the bear by the nostrils, throws him down, and twists his neck.

In the evening he arrives at the house, and the master is astonished to see him return. He gave him a good supper; but he was not pleased, because he had torn up all the young trees. At night the master turns over in his head what he could do with his servant, and he determines to send him into a still more terrible forest, in the hope that some animal will devour him. Our lad goes off again. He tears up many large trees, when a lion attacks him. He kills him in a moment. There comes against him another terrible animal, and he finishes him off too. In the evening, when he comes home, he said to himself:

“Why does my master send me into the forest? Perhaps he is tired of me.”

And he resolves to tell him that he will leave the house. When he arrives his master receives him well, but cannot understand how it is that he comes back. He gives him a good supper, and our lad says to him:

“It is better for me to go off somewhere. There is no more work for me here.”

You may reckon how pleased the master was. He gives him his wages at once, and he goes away. He goes off, far, far, far away; but soon his money is exhausted, and he does not know what is to become of him.

He sees two men standing on the bank of a river. He went up to them, and the men ask him if he will cross them over to the other side of the water. He answers, “Yes,” and takes them both at once on his back; and these men were our Lord and St. Peter. Our Lord says to him in the middle of the stream:

“I am heavy.”

“I will throw you into the water if you do not keep quiet, for I have quite enough to do.”

When they had come to the other side, the Lord said to him,

“What must I give you as a reward?”

“Whatever you like; only give it quickly, for I am very hungry.”

He gives him a sack, and says to him, “Whatever you wish for will come into this sack.”

And he goes off, far away. He comes to a town, and passing before a baker’s shop he smells an odour of very good hot loaves, and he says to them, “Get into my sack,” and his sack is quite full of them. He goes off to a corner of a forest, and there he lives by his sack. He returns again into the town, and passes before a pork-butcher’s. There were there black puddings, sausages, hams, and plenty of good things. He says, “Come into my sack,” and as soon as he has said it the sack is full. He goes again to empty it as he had done with the loaves, and he returns into the town. In front of an inn he says, “Come into my sack.” There were there bottles of good wine and of liqueurs, and to all these good things he says, “Come into my sack,” and his sack was filled.

He goes off to his corner of the forest, and there he had provision for some days; and, when he had well stuffed himself, he went out for a walk. One day he saw some young girls weeping, and he asks them, “What is the matter with you?” They answer that their father is very ill. He asks if he can see him. They tell him, “Yes.”