The Princess On The Glass Hill

: The Blue Fairy Book

Once upon a time there was a man who had a meadow

which lay on the side of a mountain, and in the meadow

there was a barn in which he stored hay. But there had

not been much hay in the barn for the last two years, for

every St. John's eve, when the grass was in the height

of its vigor, it was all eaten clean up, just as if a whole

flock of sheep had gnawed it down to the ground during

the night. This happe ed once, and it happened twice,

but then the man got tired of losing his crop, and said

to his sons--he had three of them, and the third was

called Cinderlad--that one of them must go and sleep in

the barn on St. John's night, for it was absurd to let the

grass be eaten up again, blade and stalk, as it had been

the last two years, and the one who went to watch must

keep a sharp look-out, the man said.



The eldest was quite willing to go to the meadow; he

would watch the grass, he said, and he would do it so

well that neither man, nor beast, nor even the devil

himself should have any of it. So when evening came he went

to the barn, and lay down to sleep, but when night was

drawing near there was such a rumbling and such an

earthquake that the walls and roof shook again, and the

lad jumped up and took to his heels as fast as he could,

and never even looked back, and the barn remained empty

that year just as it had been for the last two.



Next St. John's eve the man again said that he could

not go on in this way, losing all the grass in the outlying

field year after year, and that one of his sons must just

go there and watch it, and watch well too. So the next

oldest son was willing to show what he could do. He went

to the barn and lay down to sleep, as his brother had

done; but when night was drawing near there was a great

rumbling, and then an earthquake, which was even worse

than that on the former St. John's night, and when the

youth heard it he was terrified, and went off, running as if

for a wager.



The year after, it was Cinderlad's turn, but when he

made ready to go the others laughed at him, and mocked

him. "Well, you are just the right one to watch the hay,

you who have never learned anything but how to sit

among the ashes and bake yourself!" said they. Cinderlad,

however, did not trouble himself about what they

said, but when evening drew near rambled away to the

outlying field. When he got there he went into the barn

and lay down, but in about an hour's time the rumbling

and creaking began, and it was frightful to hear it. "Well,

if it gets no worse than that, I can manage to stand it,"

thought Cinderlad. In a little time the creaking began

again, and the earth quaked so that all the hay flew

about the boy. "Oh! if it gets no worse than that I can

manage to stand it," thought Cinderlad. But then came

a third rumbling, and a third earthquake, so violent that

the boy thought the walls and roof had fallen down, but

when that was over everything suddenly grew as still as

death around him. "I am pretty sure that it will come

again," thought Cinderlad; but no, it did not. Everything

was quiet, and everything stayed quiet, and when

he had lain still a short time he heard something that

sounded as if a horse were standing chewing just outside

the barn door. He stole away to the door, which was ajar,

to see what was there, and a horse was standing eating.

It was so big, and fat, and fine a horse that Cinderlad had

never seen one like it before, and a saddle and bridle lay

upon it, and a complete suit of armor for a knight, and

everything was of copper, and so bright that it shone

again. "Ha, ha! it is thou who eatest up our hay then,"

thought the boy; "but I will stop that." So he made

haste, and took out his steel for striking fire, and threw

it over the horse, and then it had no power to stir from

the spot, and became so tame that the boy could do what

he liked with it. So he mounted it and rode away to a

place which no one knew of but himself, and there he tied

it up. When he went home again his brothers laughed and

asked how he had got on.



"You didn't lie long in the barn, if even you have been

so far as the field!" said they.



"I lay in the barn till the sun rose, but I saw nothing

and heard nothing, not I," said the boy. "God knows

what there was to make you two so frightened."



"Well, we shall soon see whether you have watched the

meadow or not," answered the brothers, but when they

got there the grass was all standing just as long and as

thick as it had been the night before.



The next St. John's eve it was the same thing, once

again: neither of the two brothers dared to go to the outlying

field to watch the crop, but Cinderlad went, and

everything happened exactly the same as on the previous

St. John's eve: first there was a rumbling and an earthquake,

and then there was another, and then a third: but

all three earthquakes were much, very much more violent

than they had been the year before. Then everything

became still as death again, and the boy heard something

chewing outside the barn door, so he stole as softly as he

could to the door, which was slightly ajar, and again there

was a horse standing close by the wall of the house, eating

and chewing, and it was far larger and fatter than the

first horse, and it had a saddle on its back, and a bridle

was on it too, and a full suit of armor for a knight, all of

bright silver, and as beautiful as anyone could wish to

see. "Ho, ho!" thought the boy, "is it thou who eatest

up our hay in the night? but I will put a stop to that."

So he took out his steel for striking fire, and threw it over

the horse's mane, and the beast stood there as quiet as a

lamb. Then the boy rode this horse, too, away to the

place where he kept the other, and then went home again.



"I suppose you will tell us that you have watched well

again this time," said the brothers.



"Well, so I have," said Cinderlad. So they went there

again, and there the grass was, standing as high and as

thick as it had been before, but that did not make them

any kinder to Cinderlad.



When the third St. John's night came neither of the

two elder brothers dared to lie in the outlying barn to

watch the grass, for they had been so heartily frightened

the night that they had slept there that they could not

get over it, but Cinderlad dared to go, and everything

happened just the same as on the two former nights.

There were three earthquakes, each worse than the other,

and the last flung the boy from one wall of the barn to the

other, but then everything suddenly became still as

death. When he had lain quietly a short time, he heard

something chewing outside the barn door; then he once

more stole to the door, which was slightly ajar, and

behold, a horse was standing just outside it, which was much

larger and fatter than the two others he had caught. "Ho,

ho! it is thou, then, who art eating up our hay this time,"

thought the boy; "but I will put a stop to that." So he

pulled out his steel for striking fire, and threw it over the

horse, and it stood as still as if it had been nailed to the

field, and the boy could do just what he liked with it.

Then he mounted it and rode away to the place where he

had the two others, and then he went home again. Then

the two brothers mocked him just as they had done before,

and told him that they could see that he must have

watched the grass very carefully that night, for he looked

just as if he were walking in his sleep; but Cinderlad did

not trouble himself about that, but just bade them go to

the field and see. They did go, and this time too the

grass was standing, looking as fine and as thick as ever.



The King of the country in which Cinderlad's father

dwelt had a daughter whom he would give to no one who

could not ride up to the top of the glass hill, for there was

a high, high hill of glass, slippery as ice, and it was close

to the King's palace. Upon the very top of this the King's

daughter was to sit with three gold apples in her lap, and

the man who could ride up and take the three golden

apples should marry her, and have half the kingdom. The

King had this proclaimed in every church in the whole

kingdom, and in many other kingdoms too. The Princess

was very beautiful, and all who saw her fell violently in

love with her, even in spite of themselves. So it is

needless to say that all the princes and knights were eager

to win her, and half the kingdom besides, and that for

this cause they came riding thither from the very end

of the world, dressed so splendidly that their raiments

gleamed in the sunshine, and riding on horses which

seemed to dance as they went, and there was not one of

these princes who did not think that he was sure to win

the Princess.



When the day appointed by the King had come, there

was such a host of knights and princes under the glass

hill that they seemed to swarm, and everyone who could

walk or even creep was there too, to see who won the

King's daughter. Cinderlad's two brothers were there

too, but they would not hear of letting him go with

them, for he was so dirty and black with sleeping and

grubbing among the ashes that they said everyone would

laugh at them if they were seen in the company of such

an oaf.



"Well, then, I will go all alone by myself," said

Cinderlad.



When the two brothers got to the glass hill, all the

princes and knights were trying to ride up it, and their

horses were in a foam; but it was all in vain, for no sooner

did the horses set foot upon the hill than down they

slipped, and there was not one which could get even so

much as a couple of yards up. Nor was that strange,

for the hill was as smooth as a glass window-pane, and as

steep as the side of a house. But they were all eager

to win the King's daughter and half the kingdom, so

they rode and they slipped, and thus it went on. At

length all the horses were so tired that they could do no

more, and so hot that the foam dropped from them and

the riders were forced to give up the attempt. The King

was just thinking that he would cause it to be proclaimed

that the riding should begin afresh on the following day,

when perhaps it might go better, when suddenly a knight

came riding up on so fine a horse that no one had ever

seen the like of it before, and the knight had armor of

copper, and his bridle was of copper too, and all his

accoutrements were so bright that they shone again. The

other knights all called out to him that he might just

as well spare himself the trouble of trying to ride up the

glass hill, for it was of no use to try; but he did not heed

them, and rode straight off to it, and went up as if it

were nothing at all. Thus he rode for a long way--it

may have been a third part of the way up--but when he

had got so far he turned his horse round and rode down

again. But the Princess thought that she had never

yet seen so handsome a knight, and while he was riding

up she was sitting thinking, "Oh! how I hope he may be

able to come up to the top!" And when she saw that

he was turning his horse back she threw one of the golden

apples down after him, and it rolled into his shoe. But

when he had come down from off the hill he rode away,

and that so fast that no one knew what had become

of him.



So all the princes and knights were bidden to present

themselves before the King that night, so that he who

had ridden so far up the glass hill might show the golden

apple which the King's daughter had thrown down. But

no one had anything to show. One knight presented

himself after the other, and none could show the apple.



At night, too, Cinderlad's brothers came home again

and had a long story to tell about riding up the glass

hill. At first, they said, there was not one who was able

to get even 50 much as one step up, but then came a

knight who had armor of copper, and a bridle of copper,

and his armor and trappings were so bright that they

shone to a great distance, and it was something like a

sight to see him riding. He rode one-third of the way

up the glass hill, and he could easily have ridden the

whole of it if he had liked; but he had turned back, for

he had made up his mind that that was enough for

once. "Oh! I should have liked to see him too, that I

should," said Cinderlad, who was as usual sitting by the

chimney among the cinders. "You, indeed!" said the

brothers, "you look as if you were fit to be among such

great lords, nasty beast that you are to sit there!"



Next day the brothers were for setting out again, and

this time too Cinderlad begged them to let him go with

them and see who rode; but no, they said he was not fit

to do that, for he was much too ugly and dirty. "Well,

well, then I will go all alone by myself," said Cinderlad.

So the brothers went to the glass hill, and all the princes

and knights began to ride again, and this time they had

taken care to roughen the shoes of their horses; but that

did not help them: they rode and they slipped as they

had done the day before, and not one of them could get

even so far as a yard up the hill. When they had tired

out their horses, so that they could do no more, they

again had to stop altogether. But just as the King

was thinking that it would be well to proclaim that the

riding should take place next day for the last time, so

that they might have one more chance, he suddenly

bethought himself that it would be well to wait a little

longer to see if the knight in copper armor would come

on this day too. But nothing was to be seen of him.

Just as they were still looking for him, however, came a

knight riding on a steed that was much, much finer than

that which the knight in copper armor had ridden, and

this knight had silver armor and a silver saddle and

bridle, and all were so bright that they shone and

glistened when he was a long way off. Again the other knights

called to him, and said that he might just as well give

up the attempt to ride up the glass hill, for it was useless

to try; but the knight paid no heed to that, but rode

straight away to the glass hill, and went still farther up

than the knight in copper armor had gone; but when he

had ridden two-thirds of the way up he turned his horse

around, and rode down again. The Princess liked this

knight still better than she had liked the other, and sat

longing that he might be able to get up above, and when

she saw him turning back she threw the second apple

after him, and it rolled into his shoe, and as soon as he

had got down the glass hill he rode away so fast that no

one could see what had become of him.



In the evening, when everyone was to appear before

the King and Princess, in order that he who had the

golden apple might show it, one knight went in after the

other, but none of them had a golden apple to show.



At night the two brothers went home as they had

done the night before, and told how things had gone,

and how everyone had ridden, but no one had been able

to get up the hill. "But last of all," they said, "came

one in silver armor, and he had a silver bridle on his

horse, and a silver saddle, and oh, but he could ride!

He took his horse two-thirds of the way up the hill, but

then he turned back. He was a fine fellow," said the

brothers, "and the Princess threw the second golden

apple to him!"



"Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!" said

Cinderlad.



"Oh, indeed! He was a little brighter than the ashes

that you sit grubbing among, you dirty black creature!"

said the brothers.



On the third day everything went just as on the former

days. Cinderlad wanted to go with them to look at the

riding, but the two brothers would not have him in their

company, and when they got to the glass hill there was

no one who could ride even so far as a yard up it, and

everyone waited for the knight in silver armor, but he

was neither to be seen nor heard of. At last, after a

long time, came a knight riding upon a horse that was

such a fine one, its equal had never yet been seen. The

knight had golden armor, and the horse a golden saddle

and bridle, and these were all so bright that they shone

and dazzled everyone, even while the knight was still

at a great distance. The other princes and knights were

not able even to call to tell him how useless it was to try

to ascend the hill, so amazed were they at sight of his

magnificence. He rode straight away to the glass hill,

and galloped up it as if it were no hill at all, so that the

Princess had not even time to wish that he might get

up the whole way. As soon as he had ridden to the top,

he took the third golden apple from the lap of the Princess

and then turned his horse about and rode down

again, and vanished from their sight before anyone was

able to say a word to him.



When the two brothers came home again at night they

had much to tell of how the riding had gone off that day,

and at last they told about the knight in the golden

armor too. "He was a fine fellow, that was! Such

another splendid knight is not to be found on earth!"

said the brothers.



"Oh, how I should have liked to see him too!" said

Cinderlad.



"Well, he shone nearly as brightly as the coal-heaps

that thou art always lying raking among, dirty black

creature that thou art!" said the brothers.



Next day all the knights and princes were to appear

before the King and Princess--it had been too late for

them to do it the night before--in order that he who had

the golden apple might produce it. They all went in

turn, first princes, and then knights, but none of them

had a golden apple.



"But somebody must have it," said the King, "for

with our own eyes we all saw a man ride up and take it."

So he commanded that everyone in the kingdom should

come to the palace, and see if he could show the apple.

And one after the other they all came, but no one had

the golden apple, and after a long, long time Cinderlad's

two brothers came likewise. They were the last of all,

so the King inquired of them if there was no one else in

the kingdom left to come.



"Oh! yes, we have a brother," said the two, "but he

never got the golden apple! He never left the

cinder-heap on any of the three days."



"Never mind that," said the King; "as everyone else

has come to the palace, let him come too."



So Cinderlad was forced to go to the King's palace.



"Hast thou the golden apple?" asked the King.



"Yes, here is the first, and here is the second, and here

is the third, too," said Cinderlad, and he took all three

apples out of his pocket, and with that drew off his sooty

rags, and appeared there before them in his bright golden

armor, which gleamed as he stood.



"Thou shalt have my daughter, and the half of my

kingdom, and thou hast well earned both!" said the

King. So there was a wedding, and Cinderlad got the

King's daughter, and everyone made merry at the wedding,

for all of them could make merry, though they

could not ride up the glass hill, and if they have not left

off their merry-making they must be at it still.