Legend of Sagenfeld, in Germany by Mark Twain
[Left out of "A Tramp Abroad" because its authenticity seemed doubtful,
and could not at that time be proved.--M. T.]
More than a thousand years ago this small district was a kingdom
--a little bit of a kingdom, a sort of dainty little toy kingdom, as
one might say. It was far removed from the jealousies, strifes, and
turmoils of that old warlike day, and so its life was a simple life,
its people a gentle and guileless race; it lay always in a deep dream
of peace, a soft Sabbath tranquillity; there was no malice, there was
no envy, there was no ambition, consequently there were no
heart-burnings, there was no unhappiness in the land.
In the course of time the old king died and his little son Hubert
came to the throne. The people's love for him grew daily; he was so
good and so pure and so noble, that by and by his love became a
passion, almost a worship. Now at his birth the soothsayers had
diligently studied the stars and found something written in that
shining book to this effect:
In Hubert's fourteenth year a pregnant event will happen; the animal
whose singing shall sound sweetest in Hubert's ear shall save
Hubert's life. So long as the king and the nation shall honor this
animal's race for this good deed, the ancient dynasty shall not fail
of an heir, nor the nation know war or pestilence or poverty. But
beware an erring choice!
All through the king's thirteenth year but one thing was talked of
by the soothsayers, the statesmen, the little parliament, and the
general people. That one thing was this: How is the last sentence of
the prophecy to be understood? What goes before seems to mean that
the saving animal will choose itself at the proper time; but the
closing sentence seems to mean that the king must choose beforehand,
and say what singer among the animals pleases him best, and that if he
choose wisely the chosen animal will save his life, his dynasty, his
people, but that if he should make "an erring choice"--beware!
By the end of the year there were as many opinions about this
matter as there had been in the beginning; but a majority of the wise
and the simple were agreed that the safest plan would be for the
little king to make choice beforehand, and the earlier the better. So
an edict was sent forth commanding all persons who owned singing
creatures to bring them to the great hall of the palace in the morning
of the first day of the new year. This command was obeyed. When
everything was in readiness for the trial, the king made his solemn
entry with the great officers of the crown, all clothed in their robes
of state. The king mounted his golden throne and prepared to give
judgment. But he presently said:
"These creatures all sing at once; the noise is unendurable; no one
can choose in such a turmoil. Take them all away, and bring back one
at a time."
This was done. One sweet warbler after another charmed the young
king's ear and was removed to make way for another candidate. The
precious minutes slipped by; among so many bewitching songsters he
found it hard to choose, and all the harder because the promised
penalty for an error was so terrible that it unsettled his judgment
and made him afraid to trust his own ears. He grew nervous and his
face showed distress. His ministers saw this, for they never took
their eyes from him a moment. Now they began to say in their hearts:
"He has lost courage--the cool head is gone--he will err--he and
his dynasty and his people are doomed!"
At the end of an hour the king sat silent awhile, and then said:
"Bring back the linnet."
The linnet trilled forth her jubilant music. In the midst of it
the king was about to uplift his scepter in sign of choice, but
checked himself and said:
"But let us be sure. Bring back the thrush; let them sing
The thrush was brought, and the two birds poured out their marvels
of song together. The king wavered, then his inclination began to
settle and strengthen--one could see it in his countenance. Hope
budded in the hearts of the old ministers, their pulses began to beat
quicker, the scepter began to rise slowly, when: There was a hideous
interruption! It was a sound like this--just at the door:
"Waw . . . he! waw . . . he! waw-he!-waw he!-waw-he!"
Everybody was sorely startled--and enraged at himself for showing
The next instant the dearest, sweetest, prettiest little
peasant-maid of nine years came tripping in, her brown eyes glowing
with childish eagerness; but when she saw that august company and
those angry faces she stopped and hung her head and put her poor
coarse apron to her eyes. Nobody gave her welcome, none pitied her.
Presently she looked up timidly through her tears, and said:
"My lord the king, I pray you pardon me, for I meant no wrong. I
have no father and no mother, but I have a goat and a donkey, and they
are all in all to me. My goat gives me the sweetest milk, and when my
dear good donkey brays it seems to me there is no music like to it.
~So when my lord the king's jester said the sweetest singer among all
the animals should save the crown and nation, and moved me to bring
All the court burst into a rude laugh, and the child fled away
crying, without trying to finish her speech. The chief minister gave
a private order that she and her disastrous donkey be flogged beyond
the precincts of the palace and commanded to come within them no more.
Then the trial of the birds was resumed. The two birds sang their
best, but the scepter lay motionless in the king's hand. Hope died
slowly out in the breasts of all. An hour went by; two hours, still
no decision. The day waned to its close, and the waiting multitudes
outside the palace grew crazed with anxiety and apprehension. The
twilight came on, the shadows fell deeper and deeper. The king and
his court could no longer see each other's faces. No one spoke--none
called for lights. The great trial had been made; it had failed; each
and all wished to hide their faces from the light and cover up their
deep trouble in their own hearts.
Finally-hark! A rich, full strain of the divinest melody streamed
forth from a remote part of the hall the nightingale's voice!
"Up!" shouted the king, "let all the bells make proclamation to the
people, for the choice is made and we have not erred. King, dynasty,
and nation are saved. From henceforth let the nightingale be honored
throughout the land forever. And publish it among all the people that
whosoever shall insult a nightingale, or injure it, shall suffer
death. The king hath spoken."
All that little world was drunk with joy. The castle and the city
blazed with bonfires all night long, the people danced and drank and
sang; and the triumphant clamor of the bells never ceased.
From that day the nightingale was a sacred bird. Its song was
heard in every house; the poets wrote its praises; the painters
painted it; its sculptured image adorned every arch and turret and
fountain and public building. It was even taken into the king's
councils; and no grave matter of state was decided until the
soothsayers had laid the thing before the state nightingale and
translated to the ministry what it was that the bird had sung about
The young king was very fond of the chase. When the summer was
come he rode forth with hawk and hound, one day, in a brilliant
company of his nobles. He got separated from them by and by, in a
great forest, and took what he imagined a neat cut, to find them
again; but it was a mistake. He rode on and on, hopefully at first,
but with sinking courage finally. Twilight came on, and still he was
plunging through a lonely and unknown land. Then came a catastrophe.
In the dim light he forced his horse through a tangled thicket
overhanging a steep and rocky declivity. When horse and rider reached
the bottom, the former had a broken neck and the latter a broken leg.
The poor little king lay there suffering agonies of pain, and each
hour seemed a long month to him. He kept his ear strained to heat any
sound that might promise hope of rescue; but he heard no voice, no
sound of horn or bay of hound. So at last he gave up all hope, and
said, "Let death come, four come it must."
Just then the deep, sweet song of a nightingale swept across the
still wastes of the night.
"Saved!" the king said. "Saved! It is the sacred bird, and the
prophecy is come true. The gods themselves protected me from error in
He could hardly contain his joy; he could not word his gratitude.
Every few moments, now he thought he caught the sound of approaching
succor. But each time it was a disappointment; no succor came. The
dull hours drifted on. Still no help came--but still the sacred bird
sang on. He began to have misgivings about his choice, but he stifled
them. Toward dawn the bird ceased. The morning came, and with it
thirst and hunger; but no succor. The day waxed and waned. At last
the king cursed the nightingale.
Immediately the song of the thrush came from out the wood. The
king said in his heart, "This was the true-bird--my choice was
false--succor will come now."
But it did not come. Then he lay many hours insensible. When he
came to himself, a linnet was singing. He listened-with apathy. His
faith was gone. "These birds," he said, "can bring no help; I and my
house and my people are doomed." He turned him about to die; for he
was grown very feeble from hunger and thirst and suffering, and felt
that his end was near. In truth, he wanted to die, and be released
from pain. For long hours he lay without thought or feeling or
motion. Then his senses returned. The dawn of the third morning was
breaking. Ah, the world seemed very beautiful to those worn eyes.
Suddenly a great longing to live rose up in the lad's heart, and from
his soul welled a deep and fervent prayer that Heaven would have mercy
upon him and let him see his home and his friends once more. In that
instant a soft, a faint, a far- off sound, but oh, how inexpressibly
sweet to his waiting ear, came floating out of the distance:
"Waw . . . he! waw . . . he! waw-he!--waw-he!--waw-he!"
"That, oh, that song is sweeter, a thousand times sweeter than the
voice of the nightingale, thrush, or linnet, for it brings not mere
hope, but certainty of succor; and now, indeed, am I saved! The
sacred singer has chosen itself, as the oracle intended; the prophecy
is fulfilled, and my life, my house, and my people are redeemed. The
ass shall be sacred from this day!"
The divine music grew nearer and nearer, stronger and stronger and
ever sweeter and sweeter to the perishing sufferer's ear. Down the
declivity the docile little donkey wandered, cropping herbage and
singing as he went; and when at last he saw the dead horse and the
wounded king, he came and snuffed at them with simple and marveling
curiosity. The king petted him, and he knelt down as had been his
wont when his little mistress desired to mount. With great labor and
pain the lad drew himself upon the creature's back, and held himself
there by aid of the generous ears. The ass went singing forth from
the place and carried the king to the little peasant-maid's hut. She
gave him her pallet for a bed, refreshed him with goat's milk, and
then flew to tell the great news to the first scouting-party of
searchers she might meet.
The king got well. His first act was to proclaim the sacredness
and inviolability of the ass; his second was to add this particular
ass to his cabinet and make him chief minister of the crown; his third
was to have all the statues and effigies of nightingales throughout
his kingdom destroyed, and replaced by statues and effigies of the
sacred donkey; and, his fourth was to announce that when the little
peasant maid should reach her fifteenth year he would make her his
queen and he kept his word.
Such is the legend. This explains why the moldering image of the
ass adorns all these old crumbling walls and arches; and it explains
why, during many centuries, an ass was always the chief minister in
that royal cabinet, just as is still the case in most cabinets to this
day; and it also explains why, in that little kingdom, during many
centuries, all great poems, all great speeches, all great books, all
public solemnities, and all royal proclamations, always began with
these stirring words:
"Waw . . . he! waw . . , he!--waw he! Waw-he!"