Fairy Tales by the Countess d'Aulnoy/Appendix
APPENDIX.
Gracieuse et Percinet.—This story bears to me internal evidence of being a coup d'essai. It is slighter in plot, and the repetition of incident weakens the interest of what there is of it. Several English versions of it have been published under the title of "Graciosa and Percinet." In this very first story the effects of Madame d'Aulnoy's residence at the court of Madrid is to be seen. She tells us that Grognon "determined to make her entrée on horseback, because she had heard it was the custom of the Queens of Spain." Madame d'Aulnoy was present at the entrée of Marie d'Orleans, queen of Charles II. of Spain, into Madrid, January 13th, 1680. The Queen, she tells us, rode on a fine Andalusian horse, which the Marquis de Villa Mayna, her first gentleman-usher, led by the reins. Her clothes were so richly embroidered that you could not see the stuff they were made of. She wore a hat trimmed with white and scarlet feathers, and the pearl called the Peregrina,[1] which is as big as a small pear, and of inestimable value, hanging from the agraffe of diamonds which looped up her hat. Her hair hung loose upon her shoulders and forehead: her neck was a little bare, and she wore a farthingale. She had upon her finger the king's large diamond, which it is pretended is the finest in Europe.—"Travels in Spain," and "Memoirs of the Court of Spain."
La Belle aux Cheveux d'Or.—The Fair with Golden Hair is one of the most popular tales in the collection, and deservedly so. The sweet lesson of kindness to animals, which, is a peculiar feature in these charming fictions, is herein most agreeably impressed on the youthful mind. Many English versions of it have been published, and it has suffered less, perhaps, than any other in the series; but in this story the confusion arising from translating proper names begins to be evident. Avenant is in some versions called Graceful, while in others the French name is retained; now as Avenant signifies also, handsome, proper, comely, decent, neat, well-fashioned, well-behaved, well-beseeming, and half-a-dozen other things, it might consequently be rendered differently by as many translators, till the gentle page would cease to be recognised under such a multitude of aliases. Surely Avenant is as pretty a name as Graceful, and, what is of more consequence, it is that which the authoress gave him, and any translation, in my opinion, destroys his identity.
The confusion of Bologna in Italy with Boulogne (sur-Mer) in France, was an easy mistake for any uninterested translator to fall into. Had I not felt that Madame d'Aulnoy never mentions a place or a person without some particular motive, I might not have troubled myself to ascertain which place she really did mean by Boulogne. The fashion mentioned by Evelyn, appears not to have been of long duration, for in "An Agreeable Criticism of the City of Paris," (London, 1706,) we are told, "The Bolonia dogs are now laid aside as ugly and unsupportable, and none are caressed but those with the snout of a wolf, and cut ears; and the more they are deformed, the more they are honoured with kisses and embraces."
L'Oiseau Bleu.—The Blue Bird is another of the most popular of these stories, and has escaped with better treatment than many. The display made by Truitonne of her marriage presents (p. 45), appears to have been suggested by a similar exhibition made by the young Princess of Monteleon to the Countess at Madrid. "They brought thirty silver baskets full, which were as deep and as wide as table-baskets; they were so heavy that there were four women to carry one basket. In them there was whatever is possible to be seen that is fine and rich, according to the fashion of the country. Amongst other things, there were six of a certain sort of close coat of gold and silver brocade, made like vests, to wear in a morning, with buttons some of diamonds and others of emeralds, and of these every one had six dozen."—(Travels in Spain, Letter VIII.) The freedom with which Florine, in her assumed character of Mie Souillon, perambulates the royal palace and gardens with her toys for sale, would not have appeared improbable to a French cotemporary reader. In "A View of Paris," (London, 1701,) the English traveller says, "I was not a little surprised to see people sell things about in the Court, (at Fontainbleau,) as if it had been a market-place."—P. 62.
Prince Lutin.—This is also a general favourite, and has appeared in English as "The Hobgoblin Prince," "Prince Elfin," and "The Invisible Prince." As Lutin is not the proper name of the hero, but his quality, I have translated it Sprite; for Elfin it certainly is not. An elf is a fairy, which Leander himself disclaims being. (See page 96.) He possesses no magic power over others; he is simply endowed with the faculty of rendering himself invisible, and of transporting himself with the speed of thought wherever he pleases. He is rendered ethereal. Shakespere has described the very being—
"And I will purge thy mortal grossness, so
That thou shalt like an airy spirit go."—Midsummer Night's Dream.
Titania herein makes exactly the same offer to the Athenian Clown that the Fairy Gentille does to Leander. Lutin is literally a sprite, or goblin; but a goblin with us conveys the idea of something frightful, or at least grotesque, in appearance, and generally mischievous in character; and I have therefore preferred the former title. "The Invisible Prince" is not the name of this story, and it is the name of another fairy tale by Madame l'Evêque; and though I felt justified in using it for the title of my extravaganza founded on "Prince Lutin," as the story had been popularized under that name in the nursery, I did not conceive myself authorized to retain it under the present circumstances, although certainly a more attractive one than the original.
I have explained who Brioché, the puppet-showman, was, in a note to "The Blue Bird" (page 65); but I may add here, that the two monkeys, Briscambille and Perceforêt, which Leander buys of him, were named after a celebrated droll, and the hero of a popular romance. Briscambille, or Bruscambille, was a comic actor. He appears to have been a sort of French Joe Miller, as I find in the "Dictionnaire Bibliographique, etc., des Livres Rares," (Paris, 1790,) the following work: "Facétieuses Paradoxes de Bruscambille, et autres discours comiques, le tout nouvellement tiré de l'escarcelle des ses imaginations. Rouen; Malliart, 1615." "Le Roman de Perceforêt" is a work of the 13th century. Perceforêt is a name now generally given to a great hunter. The allusion to the bad faith and chicanery of the Normans, as I have shown, is not peculiar to Madame d'Aulnoy; but we may presume that the fact of her husband having been falsely accused of treason by two natives of that province, had not disposed her to spare them; though, if not a native herself, her father was, we are told, connected with the first families in Normandy. I must plead guilty to the anachronism in the concluding verses. Madame d'Aulnoy could not, of course, have quoted Gray; but "Heureux ceux qui sont ignorants," must have recalled the well-known phrase, "Ignorance is bliss," to the reader, render it as I might.
The two following stories, La Princesse Printaniere and La Princesse Rosette are less known, and I have seen but two English versions of them; the former appeared first under the title of "Princess Verenata," and recently as "Princess Maia;" the latter was dramatized by me under that of "The King of the Peacocks." They are both of them agreeable stories, inculcating, the one, filial duty; the other, forgiveness of injuries: but call for no additional remarks here.
Le Rameau d'Or.— "The Golden Branch" appeared in English, in a book entitled, "The Diverting Works of the Countess d'Anois," London, 1717. It is one of the most elaborate and original of the series. The corresponding adventures of Torticoli and Trognon in the tower have an oriental air about them, and are agreeably contrasted by the pastoral scenes that follow their transformation.
L'Oranger et l'Abeille was also first published in a "The Diverting Works." I have given a note in explanation of the word Canambour, "Eagle 'wood," which occurs in the original and in Madame d'Aulnoy's "Travels in Spain," she mentions her first acquaintance with the material. "The Princess of Monteleon," she tells us, "presented me with a pair of beads of Palo d'Aguila, which is a curious sort of wood that comes from the Indies."
La Bonne Petite Souris concludes the first portion of "Contes des Fées." As "The Good Little Mouse," a modernised version appeared in the "Child's Fairy Library." The story is by no means equal to its predecessors.
Le Mouton is the first fairy tale in "Les Fées à la Mode," which are a series of stories, the first three supposed to be told by the personages in a Spanish novel, which Madame d'Aulnoy, in a fanciful introduction, says she has joined to them to make them more agreeable. "Le Mouton" is an old acquaintance with English juvenile readers, to whom several abridgments have been furnished, under the title of "The Royal Ram;" a more captivating one, I admit, but not the author's, which is simply "The Ram." It appears to have suggested to Madame de Villeneuve her charming story of "La Belle et la Bête"—"Beauty and the Beast." She has rendered the lover more hideous, and altered the tragical termination; but the general idea is too similar to be accidental.
Finette Cendron exposes Madame d'Aulnoy to a similar charge of imitation. This story is a curious compound of Perrault's "Petit Poucet," and his "Cendrillon," so familiarized to us as "Hop o' my Thumb," and "Cinderella." As the fair Countess does not neglect any opportunity of testifying to the popularity of Perrault, it is singular that she should have so boldly appropriated two of the best stories of a living author at a time when they were in everybody's hands, and his fame in its zenith. The pasticcio is still more remarkable, from the fact that in the title of Madame d'Aulnoy's story we find the name of Finette, also rendered celebrated by Perrault, as that of his "Adroite Princesse," believed, by the way, and with good reason, to be the first Fairy Tale of this class ever written. The occurrence of the actual name of Cendrillon towards the close of the story, (see page 243, note,) completes the mystification, and induces one almost to imagine that the authors had a common original, which has hitherto escaped notice.[2]
Fortunée is a pleasant little story, which the translators of "The Collection" thought proper to omit, substituting in its place, without a word of explanation, "Le Palais de Vengeance," by the Countess de Murat. Fortunée, I believe, has not been previously translated.
Babiole has been published with some little compression in the "Child's Fairy Library." In this story the author's Spanish reminiscences are particularly obvious. There is more fancy than intention in the plot, and it conveys no particular moral. It is altogether more like an Arabian Nights' tale, and may indeed have had an eastern original. In "The Collection" this story is supplanted by the Countess de Murat's "Anguillette," the name being coolly substituted for that of Babiole in the paragraph which precedes it, without the slightest explanation.
Le Nain Jaune, the "Yellow Dwarf," is a more popular story, and though as tragical in its termination as "The Ram," has been more frequently presented to the English public in one shape or another, and especially in a dramatic form. The genius of Mr. Robson is, at the moment I write, illustrating it at the Olympic Theatre, in a most remarkable manner. This story is introduced by Madame d'Aulnoy in a novel called "Don Ferdinand de Toledo."
Serpentin Vert is a story that has been altogether neglected by English translators; and, substituted for it in "The Collection," we find "Young and Handsome," the "Jeune et Belle" of Madame de Murat. "Serpentin Vert," which I could only render in English "Green Serpent," is a singular story, and were it not for the incongruous and rather clumsy employment of mythological machinery in the working out of its dénoûment, might rank with the happiest of Madame d'Aulnoy's inspirations. We might tolerate Cupid, but Proserpine and the Infernal Regions are too much out of keeping with the rest of the picture, and there is something altogether "lame and impotent" in the conclusion. The idea of the effect produced by Love, although "hidden in the hearts of the young people," upon the Fairy Magotine, is poetical enough, but it does not harmonize with the subject. Madame de Beaumont has a story entitled "Bellotte and Laidronette," names which I presume she must have taken from this tale. "Serpentin Vert" will be recognised perhaps by some of our readers as the foundation of my extravaganza, "The Island of Jewels." In the portrait of Madame d'Aulnoy, affixed to this volume, will be found a pictorial illustration of the bow of riband worn on the muff at that period, and mentioned at page 305.
La Princesse Carpillon.—A version of this story is to be found in "The Collection." It is one of the best in the book, but calls for no observation here.
La Grenouille Bienfaisante was omitted by the collectors, and I believe first appeared in English in the "Child's Fairy Library," with the usual abbreviations and alterations. It is very original in its plot, and amusingly extravagant in its details.
La Biche au Bois.—This charming story was likewise most unaccountably discarded by the collectors; but as "The Hind in the Forest," two or three English versions have appeared in other publications, and it has been more than once dramatized. My own version was entitled "The Prince of Happy Land, or the Fawn in the Forest;" "The Hind in the Wood," as I have here translated it, is nearer to the original. Its commencement slightly reminds us of the Princesse Printaniere, but the story is a much more agreeable one.
La Chatte Blanche.—The White Cat is one of the best known, and most popular of all Madame d'Aulnoy's stories, and few collections of Fairy Tales are to be found without a version of it. In the present translation, however, will be found many interesting passages, illustrative of manners and customs of the period, which have been omitted by previous editors. The plot has a strong resemblance to part of that of Prince Ahmed and the Fairy Pari-Banou, in the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. Madame d'Aulnoy's story is, however, by far the best of the two.
Belle-Belle, ou le Chevalier Fortuné.—This is another great favourite, but it has been always called in English versions, "Fortunio, or the Fortunate Knight." Now there is a story in "The Collection," "Les Illustres Fées," entitled, "Fortunio," and the appropriation is more reprehensible on that account. "Le Chevalier Fortuné," also, does not mean the fortunate knight. Fortuné is the name by which Belle-Belle passes at the court of King Alfourite, Chevalier being the title prefixed to it.
Le Pigeon et la Colombe.—This appears in "The Collection," but I am not aware that there has been any other version of it. It is feebler in plot than many of the others, but there is considerable grace and feeling in the treatment of it. There seems to be no reason for Constancio's concealment from the Queen of the fact of Constancia's being a Princess, and consequently a fitting match for him, except the one that has been urged on another occasion, and of which I cannot dispute the importance, namely, that the revelation of it would immediately put a stop to the story.
La Princesse Belle-Etoile et le Prince Cheri—This Fairy Tale, which has acquired so much popularity in every form, is substantially the same with that of "Les deux Sœurs Jalouses de leur Cadette," in Galland's version of "Les Milles et une Nuits." Where Madame d'Aulnoy found the original story, if it be indeed of eastern origin, (which, however, admits of a doubt,) does not appear;[3] not that she gives any hint that she is indebted for it to anything but her own fertile imagination. That the story has been embellished by that imagination will be admitted by all who compare the two. The stars on the forehead, and the gold chains round the neck, are fancied in the true spirit of Fairy Tale telling; and very superior to the ugly notion of a prince with silver hair on one side of his head and gold on the other, which reminds one of the advertising pictures inscribed "No more grey hair," lately made so familiar to the London public; and the introduction of Prince Cheri (the Prince Cherry of the stage) is a vast improvement in the plot, giving a lover to the Princess, and increasing the interest of the story as well as the point of the dialogue. The translators have Englished Belle-Etoile into Fair Star, and Latinized Heureux into Felix. Cheri is spelt with a y instead of an i, and left untranslated to be corrupted into Cherry; while Petit-Soleil is changed into Bright Sun. It would have been more consistent, and scarcely more destructive of their identity, to have renamed them altogether.
PRINCE MARCASSIN.
The felicity of a King and Queen is clouded by their having no family. The Queen, sleeping one day in a garden, dreams that three fairies appear in the air above her head, and, expressing their concern for her, determine that she shall have a son, whom the first two endow with all the graces of form, feature, and intellect. The third, however, merely laughs and mutters some words between her teeth, which are not intelligible to the Queen. She wakes, sees no one, returns to the palace in great agitation, and reveals her dream to the King, expressing her alarm at the intentions of the third fairy. In due time, the promised heir to the throne makes his appearance; but, instead of a beautiful boy, he is a horrible wild boar-pig, called in French, Marcassin. The terrible misfortune is concealed for some time from the Queen; but when they are compelled to tell her the truth, her distress is, of course, overwhelming. She, however, resists the King's proposal to destroy the little monster, and by degrees becomes attached to it. Prince Marcassin, as he is named, grows up, and exhibits considerable capacity and courage; but has much of the ferocity, as well as all the appearance, of a wild-boar. His manners and dress are described with some humour. A lady of quality, reduced in circumstances, applies to the Queen for protection for herself and her three daughters, Ismené, Zelonide, and Marthesie. Prince Marcassin sees and falls in love with the eldest. She is attached and contracted to a young nobleman, named Coridon; but the mother, dazzled by the prospect of seeing her daughter the wife of the heir apparent, insists upon Ismené resigning Coridon, and accepting Prince Marcassin. The wedding takes place, and on the bridal night Marcassin sees Ismené and Coridon fall by their own hands. He has scarcely recovered from the shock of this catastrophe, when he falls in love with the second daughter, Zelonide, who is also compelled to marry him, but determines to destroy him by strangling him when he is asleep. He discovers her intention, and kills her with two blows of his terrific tusks. Disgusted with the world, and also with himself, he flies from the palace, and lives in the woods with other wild boars. One day he encounters by accident Marthesie, the third sister, and proposes to her. She is not so much startled by the offer as the reader may imagine; she asks only for time for consideration. Another meeting takes place, and she is persuaded to visit his cavern, under a promise to be allowed to leave it again, which he breaks, and makes her first his prisoner, and then his wife. After residing with him some time, she discovers that he has the power of divesting himself of his boar's skin; which she seizes and hides, to his great alarm, as he has received this benefit from the Fairies only on condition of inviolable secresy. Six distaffs, three with white silk and three with black, fall through the roof of the cavern, and commence dancing. This whimsical event is followed by a voice declaring that Marcassin and Marthesie shall be made happy, if they can guess what the distaffs signify. Marcassin guesses that the three white distaffs are the three Fairies, and Marthesie divines that the three black are her two sisters and Coridon. The conjectures prove correct—the transformations take place. The suicide of Ismené and her lover, and the murder of Zelonide, turn out to be merely delusions practised by the third Fairy upon Marcassin; who, restored to human shape of the most approved pattern, returns to polite society, in company of his third wife, Marthesie, and lives happy ever afterwards.
LE DAUPHIN.
This story details the adventures of an exceedingly ugly prince named Alidor, who, travelling in disguise, falls in love with a beautiful princess named Livorette, and by the assistance of a dolphin, the life of which he preserves while fishing, acquires the power of assuming at pleasure the form of a canary-bird. Under this form he becomes a favourite with Livorette, who had laughed at his attentions as Alidor. A mock marriage with the canary-bird leads to a real scandal through the instrumentality of a spiteful fairy accidentally offended by Alidor; and the prince, his wife, and infant are thrown into the sea in a tub by order of the infuriated father of Livorette, and are only saved from destruction by the intervention of the friendly dolphin, who conveys them to his own island, and ultimately restores the princess to the arms of her relenting parents, and Alidor to the crown of his father. There is nothing in the purport of the story to cause the reader to regret, while there is sufficient in its details to justify its omission.
These latter stories are introduced by Madame d'Aulnoy in one called "Le Nouveau Gentilhomme Bourgeois;" avowedly suggested by the Gentilhomme Bourgeois of Molière, and not a little indebted to the author's recollections of "Don Quixote" Although not without humour and character, it is, like the two Spanish novels before it, a mere vehicle for the "Fairy Tales," and, as I have previously remarked, quite unnecessary.
ADDITIONAL NOTE.
I take advantage of the new issue of this volume, consequent on the great favour with which it has been received by the public, to correct a few typographical errors, to add some little information respecting the family of Madame d'Aulnoy, and to reply to a kindly critic, who, in a most flattering notice of this book,[4] called my attention to the "Pentamerone" of Basile, and the "Nights of Straparola."
With great respect for Mr. Dunlop, the authority I was referred to, I must beg to deny the round assertion of that writer, that "all the best Fairy Tales" of Madame d'Aulnoy, or even "most of them," are "mere translations" from those two works, "with scarcely any variation." Out of the four-and-twenty contained in this Collection, only three are to be found shadowed forth in the "Tredeci Notti Piacevoli," of Straparola, viz. "The Princess Belle-Etoile," "Prince Marcassin," and "The Dolphin;" and certainly the two last have no pretension to be ranked amongst "the best," all of which, if borrowed, must have been taken from other sources. That the "Cendrillon" of Perrault has features in unison with the "Gatta Cenerentola" of Basile, I readily admit; but I dispute the sweeping conclusion of Mr. Dunlop, and of Mr. Keightley, who has followed him, and still believe that a common original has yet to be discovered.
I may shortly have an opportunity of entering more at large into this subject: for the present I must content myself with simply entering my protest against the rather hasty judgment of those deservedly popular writers, the historian of "Fiction," and the author of the "Fairy Mythology."
THE END
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.
- ↑ See page 580 of this volume.
- ↑ See Additional Note, p. 619.
- ↑ See Additional Note, p. 619.
- ↑ Civil Service Gazette.