Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales: Twenty Tales Illustrated by Harry Clarke

by Andersen, Hans Christian

  The church bells rang and the heralds rode far and wide to announce the coming wedding. The little mermaid, dressed in gold silk, held up the bride’s long train, but she hardly noticed the magnificent ceremony. After the bishop’s blessing, the bride and bridegroom went on board ship, where a gorgeous scarlet tent lined with beautiful purple cushions had been prepared for them.

  The ship sailed smoothly across the calm sea and, when darkness fell, coloured lamps were lit and the sailors danced on deck. The little mermaid remembered her first visit to the human world and how she had watched the party on the boat. She twirled round and round in the dances, gliding and darting in the air like a frightened swallow – never had she danced so enchantingly. The agony in her feet was terrible, but worse by far was the agony in her heart. She knew this was the last night she would breathe the same air as the prince, for whom she had sacrificed everything, and the last night she would be able to gaze into the starry sky or into the depths of the sea. When everyone had gone to bed and all was quiet, the little mermaid stayed on deck and waited for the sun to rise. She saw her sisters rising from the waves with pale faces and saw with astonishment that they had cut off their hair.

  “We wanted to save you so we gave our hair to the sea-witch,” they explained. “She gave us this knife. Take it and plunge it into the prince’s heart so that his blood sprinkles your feet. They will turn back into a fish’s tail, and you will be a mermaid once more!”

  The little mermaid lifted the scarlet curtain of the tent and saw the sleeping prince and his bride. She bent to kiss the prince’s beautiful head, then looked at the sharp knife. The prince was murmuring his bride’s name in his sleep. The little mermaid held the knife tighter. She raised it high above her head, and flung it far out into the water. She looked at the prince one last time, and threw herself into the sea where she felt her body dissolve into foam.

  The little mermaid could still see the ship’s white sails and the bright sun. High in the air, there were clouds of transparent, floating spirits. She felt herself gently rising out of the foam and saw that she had turned into one of the floating spirits in the air.

  “We are the daughters of the air,” they said. “We try to bring comfort and help to the world. We fly to hot countries and fan the air to bring coolness, and we blow the scent of flowers into refreshing breezes. Like you, we were born without a soul but, after three hundred years, if we have done enough good in the world, we are given one. During your time among human beings you suffered terribly, but behaved so unselfishly that now you have become a spirit of the air. Come and join us, and in three hundred years you will have a soul.”

  The little mermaid lifted her eyes to the sun and, for the first time, they filled with tears. She saw the prince and his bride looking for her and then gazing at the pearly foam, as if they knew that she had thrown herself into the waves. She kissed the bride’s forehead and fanned the prince with a cooling breeze and flew up to join the other air spirits on a rosy cloud sailing high in the sky.

  “In three hundred years, I will rise like this into the heavenly kingdom beyond the stars,” she thought.

  “Perhaps it will be sooner,” whispered the air spirits. “For every day that we meet a good, loving child, a year is taken away. But for every naughty child, each tear of sorrow that we shed adds another day.”

  “DANCING OVER THE FLOOR AS NO ONE HAD YET DANCED”

  THE WILD SWANS

  Long ago there lived a king with one pretty daughter, named Elise, and eleven very handsome sons. Their mother, the queen, had died when they were still quite small, but now they were growing up the king began to feel lonely, and wanted to marry again. Although the new queen was beautiful, she was really a witch. She disliked her stepchildren and treated them very badly.

  First, Elise was sent far away from the palace to live with a poor old woman deep in the forest, and then the queen told terrible lies to make the king cold and suspicious towards his sons. But they were his sons and he wouldn’t send them away. After a while, the wicked queen’s patience ran out and she cursed them, turning them into eleven snow-white swans.

  “Fly away! Fly from this kingdom and never return!” she cried, as the eleven swans rose into the air, wheeling away on great white wings.

  All night long they flew above the forest looking for Elise, until they found the little cottage where she lay sleeping. They tapped at the windows with their beaks and flapped their wings loudly, but she did not wake. As the sun rose they gave up and soared above the clouds, heading for the silver ocean shining far away in the distance.

  As Elise grew older she became prettier than ever. As she played in the little cottage garden, the wind would whisper to the roses, “Is anyone more beautiful than you?” And the roses would answer, “Only Elise.” She was a kind child too, and when the breeze fluttered the pages of the old woman’s prayer-book asking, “Is anyone kinder than you?” it replied, “Only Elise”.

  When she was fifteen years old, the king asked Elise to return to the palace. When the wicked queen saw her lovely fair skin and shining golden hair she shook with hatred and rage. She wanted to turn Elise into a swan like her brothers, but she was afraid of angering the king. Instead, she decided to prepare a magic bath for Elise. She threw in three slimy toads, chanting, “Sit on her head and make her stupid. Sit on her brow and make her ugly. Sit on her heart and blacken it.”

  As soon as Elise got into the bath, one toad perched on her head, one on her brow and one on her heart. But her goodness and kindness were stronger than the queen’s evil magic and they immediately vanished, leaving only three red poppies behind.

  The furious queen pretended to rub soothing oil into Elise’s skin, but instead she smeared evil paste all over her, and rubbed ashes into her face and hair. When Elise was presented to the king she looked so ugly and dirty that he sent her away again, saying, “This filthy wretch cannot be my daughter!”

  Poor Elise ran away and walked all day across the fields towards the forest, longing for her eleven brothers. She felt sure that they too had been driven away.

  When night fell, Elise slept on the soft moss and dreamed of her brothers and her dead mother.

  In the morning the sound of birdsong and rippling water woke her. She walked through the trees and bushes to a beautiful, clear lake and bent down to drink.

  When she saw her dirty face in the water she was frightened at first. Then she undressed and swam in the lake, washing away the paste and the ashes until she was clean and pretty once more. She dressed and tidied her hair and went deeper into the forest to find food. She found an apple tree and ate until she felt better.

  “Everything will be all right,” she told herself.

  Next day, Elise met an old woman carrying a basket of berries and asked her if she had seen eleven princes.

  “No,” said the old woman, “but yesterday I saw eleven swans with gold crowns on their heads. They were swimming in the river close by. Come and I’ll show you.”

  The old woman led Elise to a narrow, winding river and the girl set off along its banks, following it until the river flowed into the rolling sea. There she wandered along the shore wondering what to do. It was then that she spied eleven white swans’ feathers caught up amongst the seaweed. She sat down on the shore holding them, dreamily watching the ever-changing sea.

  As the sun began to sink into the sea, Elise saw a ribbon of eleven white swans with crowns on their heads flying towards the land. She ran and hid behind a bush to watch. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the swans’ feathers fell away and Elise’s brothers stood there. She ran towards them and flung herself into their arms, calling their names. When they had all stopped laughing and crying with joy, the eldest prince spoke: “While the sun is in the sky we are condemned to be swans, but the moment it sets we become human again. We live far across the sea, but once every year we make the journey back to our native land. It is a dangerous journey, and it takes two long days to make. There is onl
y one small rock that juts up above the waves between there and here, and we must sit on it all night, crowded together for safety with the wind and waves crashing over us. We are allowed to stay in the land of our birth for just eleven days each year, and we have two days left before we must fly off again. Come back with us, dearest Elise.”

  “I will,” said Elise, “and I must try to break your spell.” At sunrise, the princes became swans and flew away, all except for the youngest who stayed with Elise, nestling his head in her lap. In the evening, the others returned and at sunset they became human again.

  “Tomorrow we must fly home again,” said one. “But we can carry you between us across the ocean.” The brothers and sister spent the night weaving a large, strong net and at sunrise the princes turned back into swans and flew into the sky, carrying the sleeping Elise.

  All day long they flew onwards, but they were slower than usual because of the weight of the net. Towards evening, dark clouds appeared. Elise began to feel frightened and looked for the rock. The sun began to sink and a storm blew up, with flashes of lightning illuminating the sky. The sun had almost disappeared completely when the swans suddenly swooped down towards a little rock that looked no bigger than a seal’s head. As the last glimmer of sun sparkled on the horizon, the brothers’ feet touched the rock and they became human again, standing arm-in-arm around Elise without an inch to spare.

  They clung together all night while the storm raged around them, saying their prayers to give themselves courage. By dawn the storm had died away, and the swans flew up into the still air carrying Elise. Ahead she saw fantastic shapes in the sky, a huge castle of shining towers among ice-covered mountains, and gigantic flowers in forests of waving palm trees. The swans told her that it was the fairy Morgiana’s cloud-castle and that no human could ever enter. As Elise gazed at it, it seemed to turn into twenty ornate churches and then it changed into a fleet of sailing ships.

  At last they saw real land, and by sunset Elise and her brothers were sitting on a rock in front of a large cavern. That night, Elise fell asleep praying for the knowledge to break the spell. In her dreams she entered Morgiana’s castle, and the fairy herself appeared looking just like the old woman in the forest who had told her about the swans.

  “Your brothers can be saved,” said the old woman. “But only if you are brave enough and strong enough. Pick the stinging nettles that grow around the cavern. They are the same nettles that grow in churchyards. They will sting you terribly but you must not stop. Crush them into fibres with your bare feet, and don’t stop however much they burn and blister you. Weave the fibres into eleven long-sleeved shirts. When you put them over your brothers’ heads the spell will be broken. But remember one thing above all others – from the moment you begin this task you must stay silent or your brothers will die.”

  Elise awoke and the first thing she saw were stinging nettles like those in her dream. At once, she set to work. The nettles burned her delicate hands and feet but she did not care. The princes were amazed and frightened that she would not speak to them, but they realised she was trying to save them. After working all day and night she had finished one shirt.

  As she started work next day, the sound of a huntsman’s bugle startled her and she picked up her bundle of nettles and ran into the cavern. Within minutes, the cavern was surrounded by barking dogs and a group of huntsmen led by a king.

  “THE WHOLE DAY THROUGH THEY FLEW ONWARD THROUGH THE AIR”

  “What are you doing here, lovely maiden?” asked the handsome young king. Elise said nothing and hid her hands so the king could not see the blisters that covered them.

  “Come with me,” he said. “I will dress you in silver and gold.” And he lifted Elise up onto his horse and rode away to the palace.

  When the ladies-in-waiting had bathed her and dressed her in silken robes, the silent Elise looked more beautiful than ever. The king fell in love with her and wanted to marry her, but his chief minister believed she was a witch. The king showed Elise to a little room decorated like the cave, with the bundle of nettles and the finished shirt lying on the floor. “I thought it would remind you of the cavern,” he said. Elise smiled and kissed his hand.

  Elise grew to love the kind king and longed to tell him about her brothers, but she did not dare. By now, six shirts were finished but all the nettles had been used up. So, that night, Elise crept out of the palace and through the dark alleys and lonely streets to the churchyard. She didn’t know that the king’s suspicious minister was following her. In the moonlit churchyard a circle of witches danced among the tombstones. Holding her breath, and saying a silent prayer, Elise picked the burning nettles.

  When the minister told the king all that he had seen in the churchyard, the king refused to believe him. He loved Elise far too much to believe that she could be an evil witch. But before long all his ministers were telling him not to be blinded by love but to see for himself. So, with a heavy heart, the king decided to watch Elise closely, and soon began to wonder why she spent the night all alone in the little room.

  At last, Elise had one more shirt to make but once more the nettles had been used up. This time the king followed her to the churchyard. He took care not to be seen, but when he saw the circle of witches among the graves he felt sick at heart. It must be true. His beautiful Elise must be one of them. Next day, Elise was tried and sentenced to be burned at the stake. They threw her into a dark dungeon, but at least they left her the nettles and the ten finished shirts. Gratefully, she carried on with her work.

  As the sun was setting, she heard a swan’s wing rustling against the window of her dungeon. Her youngest brother had found her and she cried with joy to see him. He went to find his brothers, and just before dawn the eleven princes appeared at the palace gate asking to see the king. But by the time the king arrived, the sun was rising and the eleven swans flew away.

  At midday, the townspeople poured into the square to see the witch being burned. Elise was pulled along in an old cart with the ten shirts at her feet and her busy fingers working frantically to finish the eleventh. Suddenly, eleven wild swans swooped down and landed in the cart, flapping their wings as if to protect her. The crowd fell silent and whispered, “It is a sign from Heaven! She must be innocent!”

  As the executioner approached, Elise threw the nettle shirts over the eleven swans. In an instant, eleven handsome princes stood before the crowd – but the youngest one had the wing of a swan because Elise had only managed to make one sleeve for his shirt.

  “Now tell them of my innocence!” cried Elise, fainting into the arms of her brother.

  “She is no witch!” said the eldest prince, and he told the whole magical story. As he spoke, every stick on the bonfire took root and burst into flower, and the air was filled with the scent of roses.

  The king picked one perfect red rose and pressed it to Elise’s heart. She woke and looked into his eyes with a smile of happiness. The king promised Elise they would never be parted again, and that she should become his queen.

  THE MARSH KING’S DAUGHTER

  The storks tell their little ones many stories about the moor and the marsh where they live. The younger ones enjoy little stories such as “Kribble-krabble, plurry-murry,” while the older ones prefer more exciting stories about the adventures of their family. Of the two oldest and longest stories that have been handed down, we know the one about Moses, who was left on the bank of the river Nile and was found by the king’s daughter. As we know, Moses became a great man and a prophet.

  But you might not have heard the second story. It has been handed down from mother stork to baby stork for thousands of years and each time it has been told it has become better and better. Now we’ll tell it best of all.

  The first pair of storks to tell the story made their summer nest on the roof of a wooden castle owned by a Viking. The castle was built next to the wild moor of Wendyssel. The moor was in the circle of Hjörring, high up in Skagen, in the north of Jutland. Legend has it
that, many years before, the land was covered by the sea, but that the seabed rose up and formed the moor. The moor stretched for miles and miles in all directions and was surrounded by wet marshland, swamps and rough land covered with blueberries and stunted trees. The moor is still there today and is called the “wild moor” because it is always misty. Until seventy years ago wolves still roamed the land.

  The land looked the same thousands of years ago as it does today. The reeds were just as tall and had the same long leaves and bluish-brown feathery plumes. The birch tree stood with its white bark and its loosely hanging leaves. Even the creatures that lived there dressed the same; the fly in its dark, velvety cloak, and the stork in its black and white outfit with bright red stockings. The people dressed differently, but they met the same fate if they dared step onto the marsh; they would sink down into the great kingdom below, ruled by the Marsh King. We know very little about the Marsh King’s rule, but maybe that is for the best.

  The Viking’s castle was three storeys tall and it had watertight stone cellars. On the roof, the mother stork was hatching her eggs and looking forward to the arrival of her young ones.

  One night, the father stork came home very worried. “I’ve got something terrible to tell you,” he said to the mother stork.

  “Don’t worry me, I have to keep calm while I’m hatching the eggs or something bad might happen to them.”

  “I have to tell you,” he said. “The princess – the daughter of our host in Egypt – has travelled here to the moor, but she has disappeared.”

  “Oh, tell me what happened, quickly – don’t keep me in suspense when I’m hatching.”

  “Well, she thought that the flowers on the moor would heal her sick father, so she flew here dressed in swan’s feathers. She came with two of the other princesses who fly here every year in swan’s feathers to renew their youth and beauty in the sacred water.”