The Robber Bridegroom

There was once a Miller who had a beautiful daughter, whom he much wished to see well married. Not long after there came a man who appeared very rich, and the Miller, not knowing any thing to his disadvantage, promised his daughter to him. The maiden, however, did not take a fancy to this suitor, nor could she love him as a bride should; and, moreover, she had no confidence in him, but as often as she looked at him, or thought about him, her heart sank within her. Once he said to her, “You are my bride, yet you never visit me.” The maiden answered, “I do not know where your house is.” “It is deep in the shades of the forest,” said the man. Then the maiden tried to excuse herself by saying she should not be able to find it; but the Bridegroom said, “Next Sunday you must come and visit me; I have already invited guests, and in order that you may find your way through the forest I will strew the path with ashes.”

When Sunday came, the maiden prepared to set out; but she felt very anxious and knew not why, and, in order that she might know her way back, she filled her pockets with beans and peas. These she threw to the right and left of the path of ashes, which she followed till it led her into the thickest part of the forest; there she came to a solitary house, which looked so gloomy and desolate that she felt quite miserable. She went in, but no one was there, and the most profound quiet reigned throughout. Suddenly a voice sang—

“Return, fair maid, return to your home:

’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.”

The maiden looked round, and perceived that it was a bird in a cage against the wall which sang the words. Once more it uttered them—

“Return, fair maid, return to your home;

’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.”

Now the maiden went from one room to the other, through the whole house, but all were empty, and not a human being was to be seen anywhere. At last she went into the cellar, and there sat a withered old woman, shaking her head. “Can you tell me,” asked the maiden, “whether my bridegroom lives in this house?”

“Ah, poor girl,” said the old woman, “when are you to be married? You are in a murderer’s den. You think to be a bride, and to celebrate your wedding, but you will only wed with Death! See here, I have a great caldron filled with water, and if you fall into their power they will kill you without mercy, cook, and eat you, for they are cannibals. If I do not have compassion and save you, you are lost.”

So saying, the old woman led her behind a great cask, where no one could see her. “Be as still as a mouse,” said she, “and don’t move hand or foot, or all is lost. At night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape; I have long sought an opportunity.” She had scarcely finished speaking when the wicked band returned, dragging with them a poor girl, to whose shrieks and cries they paid no attention. They gave her some wine to drink, three glasses, one white, one red, and one yellow, and at the last she fell down in a swoon. Then they tore off her fine clothes, chopped her beautiful body into pieces, and sprinkled them with salt. Meanwhile the poor Bride behind the cask trembled and shuddered to see what a fate would have been hers. Presently one of the robbers remarked a gold ring on the finger of the murdered girl, and, as he could not draw it off easily, he took a hatchet and chopped off the finger. But the finger, with the force of the blow, flew up and fell behind the cask, right into the lap of the Bride; and the robber, taking a light, went to seek it, but could not find it. Then one of the others asked, “Have you looked behind the cask?”

“Oh! do come and eat,” cried the old woman in a fright: “come and eat, and leave your search till the morning: the finger will not run away.”

“The old woman is right,” said the robbers, and, desisting from their search, they sat down to their meal; and the old woman mixed with their drink a sleeping draught; so that presently they lay down to sleep on the floor and snored away. As soon as the Bride heard them, she came from behind the cask and stepped carefully over the sleepers, who lay side by side, fearing to awake any of them. Heaven helped her in her trouble, and she got over this difficulty well; and the old woman started up too and opened the door, and then they made as much haste as they could out of the murderer’s den. The wind had blown away the ashes, but the beans and peas the Bride had scattered in the morning had sprouted up, and now showed the path in the moonlight. All night long they walked on, and by sunrise they came to the mill, and the poor girl narrated her adventures to her father, the Miller.

Now, when the day came, that the wedding was to be celebrated, the Bridegroom appeared, and the Miller gathered together all his relations and friends. While they sat at table each kept telling some tale, but the Bride sat silent, listening. Presently the Bridegroom said, “Can you not tell us something, my heart; do not you know of anything to tell?”

“Yes,” she replied, “I will tell you a dream of mine. I thought I went through a wood, and by-and-by I arrived at a house wherein there was not a human being, but on the wall there hung a bird in a cage, who sang— And it sang this twice.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then I went through all the rooms, and every one was empty and desolate, and at last I stepped down into the cellar, and there sat a very old woman, shaking her head from side to side. I asked her, ‘Does my bridegroom dwell in this house?’ and she replied, ‘Ah, dear child, you have fallen into a murderer’s den; thy lover does dwell here, but he will kill you, and then he’ll cook and eat you.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then I thought that the old woman hid me behind a great cask, and scarcely had she done so when the robbers came home, dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three glasses of wine, one red, one white, and one yellow; and at the third her heart snapped. They pulled off her fine clothes, chopped her beautiful body into pieces, and sprinkled them with salt.—My treasure, thus dreamed I.—Then one of the robbers saw a gold ring on her finger, and because he could not draw it off he took up a hatchet and hewed at it, and the finger flew up, and fell behind the cask into my lap. And there is the finger with the ring!”

‘Return, fair maid, return to your home;

’Tis to a murderer’s den you’ve come.’

With these words she threw it down before him, and showed it to all present.

The robber, who during her narration had become pale as death, now sprang up, and would have escaped; but the guests held him, and delivered him up to the judges.

And soon afterwards he and his whole band were condemned to death for their wicked deeds.