How Nial Won The Beautiful Princess

by Evaleen Stein

Long, long ago in Ireland there were no towns or villages; only wattled houses, made of hazel-rods and plaster, scattered through the country. Everybody had a bee-hive and a cow and a little oatfield, because the things they liked best of all to eat and drink were honey and milk and porridge. In the middle of the kingdom rose a high mound, and on top of this stood the King's palace, which was made of wood handsomely carved, with the door-posts inlaid with gold and silver and precious stones.

The King was good-natured and easy-going; and though he wore a rich mantle and wide torque or collar of gold, and many bracelets, and his crown was of fine gold and covered his head like a broad-brimmed hat, nevertheless every day he and the Queen and their only child, a beautiful young Princess, ate their honey and porridge and drank their milk just like everybody else. This greatly displeased the high chamberlain who managed the affairs of the palace, and who was proud and haughty and thought it wrong that the King did not put on more airs.

So one morning, as breakfast was being served to the royal family, the chamberlain made bold to go before the King. "Your Highness," he said, bowing very low, "though your dishes are gold and silver, the food they hold is the same as the common people have, and they will think you no better than they. Shall I not order something more rare and costly?"

"Why, no," said the King, looking at him in surprise, "we like these things best."

Then, as he was about to dip a spoonful of honey over his porridge, "If it will satisfy you," he added, "I will make a law that nobody but myself and the Queen and the Princess be allowed to eat honey on their porridge for breakfast. That will show them I am a King and can make laws which they must obey."

With that, he dismissed the chamberlain, who was not at all pleased with the way things had turned out, but who was obliged to proclaim the new law throughout the kingdom. Nobody else liked it, either, when they found they might no longer eat honey on their porridge. But the people were peaceable and well-behaved, and the King had always before treated them kindly, so no one dreamed of disobeying him; indeed, if they did, they knew they would be punished by the high chamberlain.

So much for the folks who lived above ground. But they were not the only people in Ireland; for, hidden under all the green hills and meadows, were hundreds and hundreds of fairies.

These fairies, who had once been mortals like the rest, had been conquered in war and about to be sold into slavery, but, being wise in magic, had been able to cast a spell over themselves, so that they became smaller and smaller, and at last turned into fairies. Then they crept under-ground and built themselves wonderful halls and palaces. In these they feasted every day on magic meat and mead which kept them forever young and beautiful. Often, on moonlight nights, they would come out to dance and frolic in the meadows; though always they kept out of sight of grown folks, for they had not forgotten that it was grown folks who conquered them in war. But if now and then a boy or girl chanced to spy their merry-making, they did not mind; though they would whisper to them to keep what they had seen to themselves. And the children promised, and always kept their word to the little people.

Now at this time, in one of the smallest of the wattled houses, lived a poor woman named Bridget, and her only child, a bright-eyed boy called Nial. They had no torques or bracelets, and their clothes were old and ragged; but they had a little bee-hive, and a cow, and a tiny bit of ground where they raised a few oats for porridge. A peat bog was near, so they always had a fire on the hearth; and that contented they were, Bridget would sing over her work and Nial whistle as merrily as if he were a king's son.

Every day Nial took the cow to pasture; but one spring evening, when he went as usual to bring her to the byre, she had strayed into the bog. It took a while to find her, and when he did and started for home, the moon was up and flooding the meadow ahead of him with a silvery light. As he stepped along through the green grass, all at once he heard a low, tinkling sound, for all the world like a brook when the ice begins to thaw in April. Then the tinkling grew livelier and faster and turned into a rollicking dance tune.

"Musha!" said Nial to the cow walking soberly ahead of him, "D'ye hear that, and can ye still keep your hoofs on the ground? I've a mind to jig it with ye myself!"

Just then there rose a flutter of gauzy wings, and the little people began to come. They seemed to creep from under the tufts of cowslips and butter-cups, hundreds of them, till "Whisht!" cried Nial softly to the cow, "Now just run along to the byre—ye know the way. As for me, I must bide here a while!" And he quickly hid himself in a clump of hazel bushes, though not before the fairies had caught sight of him.

Immediately the fairy Queen sent a messenger to discover who he was; but when they found it was only Nial, "Let him be," said the Queen, "he is a good boy and will do no mischief." For they knew Nial for a kindly soul who never harmed a living creature, bird or beast, and who always took pains never to tread on a flower if he could help it. So, catching hold of hands, the little people began to dance. Round and round they tripped in the maddest, merriest frolicking, their gauzy wings glimmering, their little silver shoes twinkling, and their gay little caps and mantles looking like bits of whirling rainbows. And no wonder, for they were made of the brightest spring flowers, tulips and daffodils, peach-blossoms and hyacinths,—Nial fairly blinked as he watched them.

"Now," said he, admiringly to himself, "did ever ye see a handsomer sight? And look at the colors on yonder little lady! Sure, our Queen herself has nothing finer!" For the more bright colors the Irish folk had in their clothes, the better they liked it.

As the moon now began to wane and the fairies to creep out of sight, he noticed that the gay little mantles and caps and what not, that he had thought so handsome, were many of them torn and frayed from their wild frolicking.

"Musha!" again said Nial to himself, "'Tis no matter for the likes of me to be wearing of a ragged coat, but 'tis a pity for the little people not to be spic and span. I'll warrant it took a good two hours to hunt through the meadows for all those pretties they've got on their backs, and since they have behaved so fine to me, it's I that will be helping of them another night."

When Nial had crept out of the hazel bushes and reached home, "Och now!" said his mother, "'Tis that worried I've been! The cow's in the byre since moonrise, and sure I was that the little people had carried ye off!"

"'Tis a bit of a handful they would be having, Mother!" said Nial, as he laughed and straightened himself up; for he was a likely lad, strong and well grown for his years. "It's moon-struck I must have been, Mother, as I came through the meadow." And Nial threw himself on his bed and pretended to fall asleep; for he did not want to be questioned about what he had seen.

The next day, when he drove the cow through the meadow, there was a ring of tall green grass where the fairies had danced, and he could think of nothing else.

"Maybe," he said to himself, "they will come again tonight. Anyway, it's ready I'll make for them."

So before dusk fell, he went about gathering handfulls of cowslips and daisies, primroses and harebells, all the gayest flowers he could find, and heaped them on the grass near the fairy ring. Then he slipped into the spring-house where Bridget had set the evening's milk, and filling a small gourd dipper, carried it out and stood it in the grass beside the flowers. "I'm thinking," he said, "the little people will be liking of a drop of new milk as well as anybody!" For everybody knows that fairies are very fond of fresh milk.

After supper, when Bridget was sound asleep, Nial quietly slipped out of bed, and unbarring the door, ran swiftly down to the meadow and hid in the hazel bushes as before. By and by, when the moon came up, sure enough, out crept the little people to dance and frolic again. When they saw the preparations Nial had made for them, they were mightily pleased. They frisked about sipping the new milk, and then they whisked the flowers on, caps and mantles of harebells and hyacinths, cowslips and primroses. My, how gay they looked and how they danced!

Before they flitted away to their underground palaces, the fairy Queen said that as Nial had shown his kind heart, they would do something for him. So flying to the bee-hive, she touched it with her wand, bewitching the bees so that they might make the finest flavored honey in all Ireland. Also she stroked with her wand the forehead of the cow, so she might give an inexhaustible supply of the richest milk.

The next day Nial slept late, and Bridget, not wishing to wake the lad, ate her porridge alone. After a while, when her work was done, seeing the honey dish was empty, she went to the hive and brought in a fresh comb;—and then, when she tasted it, she smacked her lips in amazement. "Musha!" she exclaimed, tasting and smacking again, "Was ever there the likes of this! Why, lad, our bees must be bewitched!"

Nial, who had roused up, laughed to himself, but said nothing of how near the truth she had guessed.

"Why," went on Bridget, "'tis honey fit for a king!" Then, her words putting an idea into the good woman's head, "Bedad, now," she said, "'tis just stepping up to the King's palace I'll be to carry a bit for the porridge of the young Princess!" For all the Irish folk knew that the Princess was exceedingly fond of honey.

"All right, Mother," said Nial, who was beginning to eat the plain oat porridge Bridget had set before him for breakfast, "but before ye go, just give me a bit on my porridge here."

"What?" cried his mother, bewildered. "Ye know well 'tis not for the likes of us to be eating honey on porridge; that's only for king folks! But sure, lad, 'tis only plaguing me ye are!" And never doubting that Nial was only teasing her, off she bustled for the palace, which was not far away.

But the minute she shut the door, Nial, who was a bold lad, reached over for the honey dish, and, with a twinkle in his eye, muttering, "'Tis a pity if I can't be playing it's a king's son I am!" dipped his big horn spoon full and poured it over his porridge. Then he smacked his lips, as Bridget had done, when he tasted it, and made haste to pour on some more.

Before he had finished, Bridget, who walked quickly, had reached the palace. The young Princess was just ready for breakfast, and when her porridge was brought in covered with the bewitched honey, and she tasted it, my, my, that pleased she was, you never saw the like! Immediately she begged the King, her father, to buy Bridget's bees and have their hive placed in the royal garden. At once the King sent out a generous purse of gold, and commanded the high chamberlain to buy the bees and to reward the good woman who had brought the honey.

But the chamberlain, who was as dishonest and grasping as he was proud, determined to find some other way to get the bees, and to keep the purse for himself:—and the chance came quicker than he thought. For, as bad luck had it, just as Nial was pouring the honey from his horn spoon over his porridge, along came a withered old crone, who was friend to nobody; and peering in the window, she saw Nial. Nodding her head knowingly, she hobbled off to the palace to tell what she had seen.

The high chamberlain rubbed his hands with pleasure, and immediately sent a servant to seize Bridget's bee-hive as punishment for Nial's act.

When the poor woman reached home and found how things were, "Ochone! Ochone!" she moaned to herself, and covering her head with her apron, all day long she rocked to and fro weeping bitterly.

When dusk fell, Nial, who was very miserable, went out into the meadow. The moon was waning, so there was not light enough for the fairies to dance; nevertheless, a few were flitting about enjoying the cool air and sipping the dew. When Nial, who had become very good friends with the little people, told them about losing the bewitched bee-hive, they were very indignant. And when they slipped underground and repeated it to their Queen, she was downright angry and vowed that if Nial could not have the wonderful honey, neither should the King's daughter. So she commanded a messenger to go to the hive and whisper to the bees that the meadows of the King of France were much finer and flowerier, and they would do well to go there.

The bees, at hearing this, at once prepared to fly across the sea; and as they are gossippy little creatures, they told the other bees in the royal hives, and soon the word spread through all the kingdom, and, swarm after swarm, all the bees flew away to the meadows of the King of France.

When the Irish folk found their bees gone, they set up a great lamentation! Nobody could understand what had become of them, and they did not see how they could get along without their favorite food. The high chamberlain, thinking Nial must have something to do with the matter, sent and had him brought before the King. But to all their questions and threats the lad answered so bravely and fearlessly, and declared so truthfully that he knew nothing about it (for he did not know the fairy queen had sent the bees away), that they were obliged to let him go; though the high chamberlain took away the milk cow, just for spite, and poor Bridget wrung her hands in vain.

Soon it was whispered about that the beautiful young Princess was pining away! Having no honey for it, she would not touch her porridge, and was growing so pale and thin that the court physician declared that, unless the bees were brought back, she would surely die.

At this, the King, in despair, sent heralds through the kingdom, blowing on trumpets and proclaiming that whoever brought the bees back should be richly rewarded, and, if a young man, should be solemnly betrothed to the beautiful Princess and marry her as soon as she reached a suitable age. The word spread through neighboring kingdoms, and many handsome young princes set their wits to work to win the beautiful Princess; but all in vain, for nobody knew where the bees were, or how to get them back again.

Meantime it was the dark of the moon, and Nial's friends, the fairies, no longer came to the meadow, but danced and froliced in their underground palaces. Still, Nial kept hoping that, by and by, they would come out again; and then, he thought, he would make bold to ask their help. For he was a fearless lad, and, despite his ragged coat, did not see why he should not try for the Princess the same as anybody else.

So when next the moon was full and the meadow flooded with silver, he took pains to gather handfulls of the finest flowers he could find, and heaped them up as before. He could not bring new milk, because the high chamberlain had taken their cow; but he looked about and, spying some foxgloves, "There, now!" he cried, "'tis like pitchers of dew they are, for the little people!" Then, snip! snap! the evening primroses began to break, and filling his hands with their yellow cups, he set them with the foxgloves by the fairy rings. "Sure," he said to himself as he looked at them, "I'll be thinking the gold cups and platters of the King's folks are no handsomer sight!"

Nial had scarcely finished making ready for them, when, sure enough, the little people began to come out, and they all felt very friendly toward Nial for his kindness. He kept behind the hazel bushes and waited till they had finished their frolic; and had poured all the dew from the foxglove pitchers into the primrose cups, from which they sipped it gladly, as their dancing had made them very warm and thirsty. Then, stepping out, he dropped on his knees before the fairy Queen. Very big and awkward he looked kneeling there before the little lady, but she listened soberly as he told about the lost bees and how anxious he was to win the beautiful Princess.

When he had finished, the Queen frowned a bit, for she remembered sending away the bees without thinking what mischief it would do; for the fairies are fickle little folks, and do not greatly trouble themselves about the affairs of mortals. She was sorry for Nial, though, and determined to help him. So she thought a minute, and then she said, "Well, lad, it was I who sent off the bees to the meadows of the King of France; but it was easier to send them off than it will be to get them back again. I cannot send one of my messengers there, as we fairies never leave our own country; and besides, the fairies of France are not friendly to us and might do an ill turn. Nor would it do any good for you to go, for the bees would pay no attention to you. There is another way, however to get them back."

"Faith, Ma'am," said Nial eagerly, "I'll do your bidding, though 'tis to fight the King of France himself!"

The lad looked so very brave and bold, that the fairy Queen smiled. "No," she said, "'tis not to France you must be going, but to the Northland. So get your knapsack ready for a journey. Put in it some oat-cakes, this ball of silver cord (and she handed Nial a glittering ball), and a cage large enough for two birds; you can make this yourself from the osiers by the brook. Then carry a spade over your shoulder, and set out for the seashore. There you must take ship for the Northland. When you get there, walk inland till you come to a green meadow where a small silver birch tree is growing. There will be a number of cuckoos singing from its branches, and where the notes of their song fall to the ground you will see hundreds of golden yellow flowers springing up. Now you must get two of these cuckoos and put them in your cage."

"Musha, Ma'am!" exclaimed Nial, "And is it salting of their tails I must be doing? Never yet have I managed to salt a bird's tail, Ma'am, and 'tis many times I've tried." And he looked so hopeless, that the Queen was like to laugh.

"No," she answered, "you need not trouble yourself about their tails; I will teach you some charm words, and when you say them to the birds they will come to your hand easily. Then you must dig up the birch tree and wrap its roots carefully with the silver cord; then sling it over your shoulder—for you are a stout lad—and bring it along; for unless the cuckoos sing from the boughs of the silver birch of the Northland, the yellow flowers will not spring up."

"Bedad, Ma'am," broke in Nial again, "but how is all that going to bring back the bees?"

"Never mind," said the Queen sharply, "and ask no more questions! It is your business to do exactly as I bid you."

So Nial listened meekly as the Queen taught him the charm words, and told him to bring the birch tree home and plant it in the meadow, and then to hang the cuckoos' cage on its boughs and open the door and see what happened.

When she had finished, Nial thanked her as politely as he knew how, and then he hurried back home; and early the next morning he set about to do her bidding. He found an old knapsack, and Bridget baked some oat-cakes for his journey. These he put in the knapsack, together with the ball of silver cord and the cage, which he made from osiers as the fairy said. Then carrying a spade over his shoulder, he set out for the seashore. There he found a ship about to sail for the Northland; and though he had not a penny, he whistled so merrily and laughed so heartily and promised so faithfully to work his way, that the captain took him along right willingly.

When he reached the Northland, it all turned out exactly as the fairy Queen had said. He found the green meadow with the silver birch tree full of cuckoos, and thousands of yellow flowers dotting the grass as they sang. Carefully stepping between these so as not to crush them, and taking the osier cage in one hand, he walked toward the tree; and though at first all the cuckoos flew away, as soon as he said over the charm words the Queen had taught him, back they came; and the first thing he knew two of them were fluttering round his head, and then they perched, one on each shoulder.

"Whishst now, my pretties!" he said, laughing softly. "Sure and if ye'll be stepping into this handsome cage here, I'll take ye to a land as much finer than this as a shamrock than a cockle-burr!" Then as he hummed over the charm once more, the cuckoos flew into the cage, and he shut the door.

Next he set to work to dig up the birch tree, and carefully wrapping its roots with the silver cord, he slung it over his shoulder together with the spade, and with the cage in his hand, again set out for the seashore. There he found the same ship in which he had sailed to the Northland, and the captain, who was about to start back to Ireland, took him along right willingly, as before.

When they reached the land and Nial set off for the home meadow, now and then folks came out of their wattled houses and asked him where he was going with his birch tree and cage of yellow birds; for no cuckoos had ever before come to Ireland. And when Nial answered, "'Tis bringing back the bees I'm after doing!" the people pricked up their ears and followed along to see how he would do it.

There were so many of them that they made a great circle about the home meadow, where they stood and watched as Nial carefully planted the birch tree and hung the open cage on its branches, as the fairy Queen had told him. Immediately the little people underground unwrapped the silver cord from its roots and spread them out so that the birch tree at once began to grow and flourish. Then the cuckoos, flying out of the cage, perched on its branches and began to sing; and as their notes fell to the ground, thousands of golden flowers sprang up through the grass. And whiff! whiff! as the Irish sun, so much warmer than in the Northland, shone on them, my, my, how sweet they smelled! Never was there anything like it! All the roses and honeysuckles in the world were as nothing to it!

"Och! Och!" cried everybody, "was ever the likes of it for pleasantness!"

Soon the wind began to blow toward the meadows of the King of France; stronger and stronger it blew, till sniff! sniff! the bees there stopped in their buzzing. Sniff! sniff! right away, swarm after swarm, they flew straight across the sea for Ireland and began to fill their honey-bags from the golden flowers; and then they settled down in their old hives and forgot all about the meadows of the King of France.

Everybody was mightily pleased to have the bees back again; but the high chamberlain was very angry when he found it was Nial who had coaxed them home. When the King asked him who had brought them back, he told him it was one of the handsome young Princes who had tried in vain. But the truth could not be kept back, for too many people had seen what Nial had done; and his friends soon found means to tell the King. They told him also how wicked the high chamberlain was, and the King was very angry and commanded the hive of bewitched bees and the milk cow to be restored at once to Bridget, together with the purse of gold which the chamberlain had kept from her. Then he banished the high chamberlain himself to a wattled hut in a far-off corner of the kingdom, and ordered that he was to have nothing but thin porridge and water to live on the rest of his life.

Nevertheless, though the King had tried to set things to rights with Nial and his mother, he was very sad to think that the hand of the beautiful Princess was promised to a poor ragged lad; and as for the Princess, she began to weep bitterly. At this the King, who could not bear to see her cry, said, "Never mind, my dear. 'Tis a poor lad he is, and I'll warrant for a few bags of gold 'tis willing enough he'll be to let me off from my promise; and to make it sure, I'll tell him plainly that if he marries you 'tis nothing at all he'll be getting but a wife to support!"

At this, the tears of the Princess broke out afresh, and the King, distracted, sent at once for Nial.

When the lad was brought into the palace, the King commanded that a large chest be placed before him, and then told him to lift the lid. When Nial did so, he opened his eyes wide, for it was filled with the finest golden torques and bracelets, besides bags of gold and jewels. "Nial," said the King, "if you free me from my promise to betroth the Princess, the chest is yours. But I will tell you plainly, lad," and here the King frowned, "if 'tis the Princess you are set on having, not a penny goes with her, and 'tis only a wife to support you will be getting."

On hearing this, Nial, turning up his nose at the chest full of gold, fell on his knees before the beautiful Princess, just as he had knelt to the fairy queen, and smiling up at her, "Bedad, Ma'am," he said, "if it's willing to marry me ye are, why, as for yonder torques and bags of gold, the King, your father, may toss them into the sea for all I'll be caring! It's my stout two hands that will work for ye, and 'tis I that will wait on ye like as if ye were the fairy Queen herself!"

To the surprise of everybody, when Nial began to speak the Princess had quickly dried her eyes; and when he finished, in spite of his ragged coat he looked so bold and handsome with his yellow hair and his ruddy cheeks and merry blue eyes, and he lifted his head so proudly, that the beautiful Princess smiled back at him. Putting out both her hands, "Nial," she said, "'tis yourself and nobody else I'll be marrying, and the torques and bracelets and bags of gold may go to the bottom of the sea for all I'll be caring either!"

At the speech of the Princess everybody stared in amazement; and the King, being good-natured and easy-going, laughed outright when he saw how things were turning out and that the Princess was happy. "Well, well," he said, "so be it! And 'tis changing my mind I'll be about the Princess having no dowry." Then he told Nial to pick from the chest the handsomest torques and bracelets for himself and Bridget, and he commanded the court tailors and dress-makers to set to work on the finest clothes for them; and when these were finished he ordered a grand feast, and Nial and the Princess were solemnly betrothed. The Princess wore a gown of white velvet sewn with pearls, and carried a bouquet of the wonderful yellow flowers from the meadow; and while the betrothal was going on, the two cuckoos came and perched, one on her shoulder and one on Nial's, and sang as if they would burst their throats.

In due time, when Nial was grown to a fine strong young man and the Princess was more beautiful than ever, they had a splendid wedding and lived happily ever after. And proud enough the King and Queen were to have so brave and handsome a son.

This is the story of how Nial won the beautiful Princess, and of how the first cuckoos came to Ireland.