The Grateful Dead: The History of a Folk Story

by Gordon Hall Gerould

The three Servian tales, which fall in this section, differ widely in their characteristics. The first of them, Servian II.,[16] is the most nearly normal. Vlatko goes into the world to trade, but pays all his money to free from debt a corpse, which creditors are digging up in order to vent their spite upon it. He returns home, and is sent out again by his parents, receiving a greater sum of money and, from his mother, an apple by means of which he can tell the intentions of anyone who desires his friendship by the way.[17] He is joined by a man, who cuts the apple into two exact halves, and so is accepted as a friend. After Vlatko has prospered in trade, the friend proposes that he marry the emperor’s daughter, with whom ninety-nine men have already died on the wedding night. Arrangements are made, and the friend keeps watch in the bridal chamber. During the night he cuts off the heads of three snakes, which come from the lady’s mouth. Sometime afterwards all three set out for Vlatko’s home; and on the way the hero divides his property with his friend. Jestingly the latter proposes that they divide the wife, and, after blindfolding the husband, shakes her three times, when three dead snakes come out of her. Thereupon he disappears.

Like Armenian and Gypsy, this variant has the ghost cut off the head of the monster (here three snakes) that possesses the maiden. The actual division of the woman as it appears in those tales occurs here as a mere jest, which is the case with most of the European versions.[18]

Servian III. has a more romantic character. The daughter of an emperor had been married thirteen times, but each of her bridegrooms had died on the wedding night. A certain prince, who had fallen in love with her through a dream, set out for her castle. On the way he paid the debts of a poor man, whose corpse was held by creditors, and buried him. Soon after, he was met by a man who became his servant, and won a castle for him by a wonderful adventure. After the wedding this man killed the snakes that came out of the bride, and also caused her to disgorge three snake eggs by threatening her with his drawn sword. He then disappeared.

This variant shows traces of foreign substance in the dream and the winning of the castle by the unrevealed companion. Possibly the latter trait unites it with the combined type of which The Water of Life is one of the elements. It will be noticed that the division of the property and of the woman is not brought into question, though the sword is used somewhat incongruously for the removal of the last traces of the heroine’s snaky infestation. Thus, by an evident change in structure, the identity of the hero’s companion is never explained.

With Servian IV.[19] we encounter a most serious problem, which must receive special treatment later on,[20]—the relation of The Grateful Dead to The Thankful Beasts theme. A poor youth three times set free a gold-fish which he had three times caught. Later he was cast out of his father’s house and sent into the world. He was joined by a man, who swore friendship with him on a sword, and accompanied him to a city where many men had been mysteriously slain while undertaking to pass a night with the king’s daughter. The hero undertook the adventure, and was saved by his companion, who cut off the head of a serpent that came from the princess’s mouth. In the morning the youth was married to the lady, and divided all his property with his helper. On their way home the latter demanded half of the bride, and, while she was held by two servants, swung a sword above her. With a shriek she cast first two sections, and finally the tail, of a serpent from her mouth. Thereupon the friend leaped into the sea, for he was the gold-fish.

The burial of the dead has here been ousted by a good deed which the hero does to a gold-fish. That the trait is foreign to the type, however, seems clear. From the time when the companion appears to the hero, the story follows the normal course until the very end, when the man unexpectedly leaps into the sea. The thankful dead has been replaced by the thankful beast, but the tale really belongs to the present category, since otherwise it has all the characteristics of the type. Thus the division of the woman is almost precisely similar to that of Armenian and Gypsy—that is, the sword is raised, and the woman disgorges the serpent with a scream. That it comes out piecemeal may be a faulty recollection of the actual division. As so often, it is not stated that the companion made a share of the gains a condition of his help.

Bulgarian is in some respects very primitive, though fragmentary. A father sends his son out into the world to gain experience. The youth is joined by an archangel, who promises him assistance on condition that he will pay their joint expenses and will be obedient. The companion kills a negro and a serpent, and goes with the hero into their den, where the adventurers find, but leave, great treasure. They come to a city where the king’s daughter has been thrice married, each time only to have her bridegroom die on the wedding night. Now she is to be given to any man who can live with her one night; and many wooers have died in the attempt. The youth offers himself as a suitor, and is saved by the archangel, who draws a serpent out of the woman. Later he helps the hero to get the wealth previously found in the cave, and demands the division of everything, even the wife. When he cuts her in two, many little snakes fall out of her body. He then unites her, and gives the hero all the riches they have obtained.

The burial of the dead has entirely disappeared, as will be observed, though the other traits of the story show that we must regard it as of the type now under consideration. The appearance of the archangel as companion, and the plunder which they take by the way, suggest the influence of Tobit, which indeed appears as a folk-tale in the same collection.[21] The conditions made by the angel are only slightly altered from the normal form, while every other feature is found intact, even to the actual division of the woman.

Esthonian II. has altogether lost the essential features of our theme; and it has besides put in several traits from a märchen, which, as we shall soon see, is joined to ours with considerable frequency. The inclusion of this variant here is justified only by some vague traces indicating that the extraneous parts of the narrative have replaced others which, if preserved, would make it an ordinary representative of The Grateful Dead.

A certain couple had a weak-minded son, who could not learn. Wishing to get rid of him, the father took the boy into a forest and gave him gladly to an old man whom he chanced to meet. From the man the youth received books in foreign tongues, which he learned to read in a day. He then wandered till he came to a city, where lived a princess who was in the power of devils and went to church with them every night. The hero watched in the church for three nights, with three, six, and twelve candles, successively. Thus on the third night he freed the princess and married her, receiving half the kingdom. He then sought the old man, who told him to cut the woman in halves and divide her. The old man halved her himself, when there sprang out a serpent, a toad, and a lizard. After this he gave her back to her husband.