[This tale first appeared in the edition of 1819; it came from an unknown informant in Niederhesse. About the Grimm Collection.]
Once upon a time there were three brothers. They’d been getting poorer and poorer, and finally their distress was such that they were starving and had nothing left to eat. “It can’t go on like this,” they said, “we’d better go out in the world and seek our fortune.” So they set out and had walked a long distance and had covered a lot of ground but still hadn’t found their fortune. One day they got into a large forest in the middle of which was a mountain, and on getting nearer, they saw that the mountain was of solid silver. Then the eldest said, “Now I’ve found the good fortune I’ve been seeking and ask for none greater.” He took as much of the silver as he could carry, then turned about and went back home.
But the other two said, “We expect something more in the way of good fortune than mere silver,” didn’t touch it, and went on. After walking a few days more they came to a mountain of solid gold. The second brother stopped, reflected,and hesitated. “What shall I do?” he said. “Shall I take so much gold that I’ll have enough for the rest of my life, or shall I go on farther?” Finally he made up his mind, filled his pockets as full as he could, said goodbye to his brother, and went home. But the third said, “Silver and gold mean nothing to me. I won’t forswear my good fortune; perhaps something better is in store for me.”
He went on and after walking for three days came to a forest still larger than the others and apparently endless, and finding nothing to eat or drink he nearly perished. Then he climbed a high tree to find out whether from there he could see the limits of the forest, but as far as the eye could reach he saw nothing but treetops. He climbed down the tree again, but hunger tormented him and he thought, “If once again I could eat my fill!” On getting down, to his amazement he saw under the tree a table all set with dishes, whose savor rose to his nostrils. “This time,” he said, “my wish has been fulfilled in the nick of time,” and without asking who’d brought the food and who’d cooked it, he went up to the table and ate to his heart’s content till he’d satisfied his hunger.
When he’d finished, he thought, “It’s really a pity to let the fine tablecloth spoil here in the forest,” folded it neatly and put it in his pouch. Then he went on, and in the evening when he got hungry again, he wanted to test his cloth. He spread it out and said, “Now I wish that you were once more covered with fine dishes.” Hardly had the wish passed his lips when dishes with the finest food appeared, as many as there was room for. “Now,” he said, “I see in what kitchen the cooking is done for me! You’ll be dearer to me than the silver and gold mountain!” for he saw clearly that it was a cloth-be-laid.
Still, the cloth wasn’t enough to make him settle down at home; he preferred rather to keep wandering about in the world and try his fortune further. One evening in a lonely forest he met a charcoal burner all black with charcoal dust; he was burning charcoal there, had potatoes on the fire, and was going to make his meal of them. “Good evening, Blackbird,” he said, “how are you getting on in your solitude?” “One day’s like another,” answered the charcoal burner, “and potatoes every evening. Do you want some, and will you be my guest?” “Thanks a lot,” answered the traveler, “I won’t deprive you of your meal; you weren’t counting on a guest. However, if you’ll put up with me, let me invite you.” “Who’s going to prepare it for you?” said the charcoal burner; “I see that you haven’t anything with you, and there’s no one within a couple of hours of here who could give you anything.” “Just the same,” he answered, “it’ll be a meal better than any you’ve ever tasted.”
Thereupon he took his cloth out of the knapsack and spreading it on the ground, said, “Cloth, be laid!” and at once all sorts of good food was there and was as hot as if it had just come from the kitchen. The charcoal burner looked very astonished but didn’t have to be asked twice. He helped himself and kept putting bigger and bigger pieces into his black mouth. When they’d finished eating, the charcoal burner smiled contentedly and said, “Listen, I approve of your cloth; it would be just the thing for me in the forest where there’s no one to cook anything good for me. I propose an exchange: over there in the corner is hanging an army knapsack which, true enough, is old and doesn’t look like much, but it has marvelous powers. Since, however, I no longer need it, I’m willing to exchange it with you for the cloth.” “I must first know what sort of marvelous powers these are,” he replied. “I’ll tell you,” answered the charcoal burner, “every time you rap on it with your hand, a corporal appears with six men armed from head to foot and they’ll carry out your every order.” “All right,” he said, “if you insist, then let’s exchange,” gave the charcoal burner his cloth, took the knapsack down from the hook, slung it on his back, and said good-bye.
When he’d gone some distance, he wanted to test the magic powers of his knapsack and rapped on it. Immediately the seven war heroes appeared before him, and the corporal said, “What does my lord and master wish?” “March off on the double to the charcoal burner and demand my wishing cloth back.” They made a left turn and in no time brought what he’d asked for, having taken it from the charcoal burner without much ado. He bade them withdraw again and went on, hoping to meet with still better fortune.
At sundown he came to another collier who was preparing his evening meal by the fire. “Do you want to eat with me?” said the sooty fellow; “potatoes and salt but no drippings. If so, sit down with me.” “No,” he answered, “this time you shall be my guest,” and spread out his cloth, which was at once covered with the finest dishes. They ate and drank together and were in good spirits. After the meal the collier said, “Up there on the rooftree is an old worn-out cap with strange properties. If one puts it on and turns it around on one’s head, culverins go off as if twelve were lined up together and they shoot down everything, so that no one can stand up against them. The cap’s no use to me, and I’m quite willing to exchange it for the cloth.” “That’s a bargain!” he answered, took the cap and, putting it on, left his cloth behind. He’d gone but a short distance before rapping on his knapsack, and his soldiers had to bring him back his cloth. “Nothing succeeds like success,” he thought, “and I feel that my good fortune has not yet come to an end.”
Nor was he wrong in this thought. After walking still another day he came to a third charcoal burner who, like the others, invited him to a meal of potatoes without drippings. However, he asked the collier to eat with him off his wishing cloth, and the food tasted so good to the latter that in the end he offered him in exchange a horn, which had quite other properties than the cap. When one blew it, all walls and fortifications, indeed, all cities and villages collapsed. True enough, he gave the collier the cloth for it, but afterward had his men demand it back, so that finally he had the knapsack, the cap, and the horn. “Now,” he said, “I’m a made man, and it’s time for me to return home and find out how my brothers are getting along.”
By the time he got home, his brothers had built a fine house with their silver and gold and were leading a gay life. He went in, but since he arrived in a half-tattered coat with the shabby cap on his head and the old knapsack on his back, they wouldn’t acknowledge him as their brother. They made fun of him, saying, “You claim to be our brother who scorned silver and gold and asked better luck for himself. He’ll certainly come in all splendor, driving up as a mighty king and not as a beggar,” and they chased him out the door. Then he flew into a rage, rapped on his knapsack till a hundred and fifty men stood lined up before him. He ordered them to surround his brothers’ house. Two were to take along hazel rods and tan the two insolent fellows’ hides till they knew who he was. There was a frightful uproar: the crowd gathered and wanted to help the two in their plight but could do nothing against the soldiers.
Finally a report of this reached the king; he became indignant and had a captain march out with his company and chase the trouble-maker out of town. But the man with the knapsack soon had a larger crew assembled, which repulsed the captain and his soldiers so that they had to retire with bloody noses. “We’ll tame this vagabond,” said the king and the following day sent a larger detachment against him, but it was able to accomplish even less, for he opposed still greater numbers and, to end the business even quicker, turned his cap around on his head a couple of times. Then the artillery began to come into play, and the king’s men were beaten and put to flight. “Now I shan’t make peace,” he said, “until the king gives me his daughter in marriage and I’m ruling the whole kingdom in his name.” He had the king notified of this, and the latter said to his daughter, “Need will have its way. What can I do but what he demands? If I want to have peace and keep my crown on my head, I must surrender you.”
So the wedding was celebrated, but the king’s daughter was vexed because her husband was a commoner and wore a shabby cap and had an old knapsack on his back. She’d gladly have been rid of him again and day and night thought how she might bring this about. Then she thought, “Can his magic powers be in the knapsack?” dissembled, and caressed him, and when his heart softened, said, “If only you’d take off the wretched knapsack! It’s so unbecoming to you that I can’t but be ashamed of you.” “Dear child,” he answered, “this knapsack is my greatest treasure; as long as I have it, I fear no power in the world,” and confided in her the magic powers with which it was endowed. Then she fell on his neck as if to kiss him, but deftly removed the knapsack from his shoulder and ran off with it. As soon as she was alone, she rapped on it and ordered the veterans to arrest their former master and to lead him out of the royal palace. They obeyed, and the false woman had still more men follow him and chase him right out of the country.
Now he would have been lost if he hadn’t had the cap, but no sooner were his hands free than he waved it a couple of times: at once the guns began to thunder, leveling everything, and the king’s daughter had to come herself and beg for mercy. Since she begged so movingly and promised to reform, he let himself be persuaded and granted her peace. She feigned friendliness with him, pretended that she loved him dearly, and after some time succeeded in deluding him so that he confided in her that even if one got hold of his knapsack, the person wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything against him so long as the old cap was still his. When she learned the secret, she waited till he was asleep, then took away his cap and had him thrown out in the street. However, he still had the horn left and in great anger blew it with all his might. At once everything collapsed: walls, fortifications, cities, and villages, killing the king and his daughter, and if he hadn’t put the horn down and had he blown it just a little longer, everything would have collapsed and not one stone would have remained on top of the other.
Then no one opposed him any longer, and he set himself up as king of the whole realm.