Fair, Brown, and Trembling

King Hugh Curucha lived in Tir Conal, and he had three daughters called Fair, Brown and Trembling. Every Sunday Fair and Brown put on new dresses and went off to church, while Trembling stayed at home to cook and do the housework. Her sisters would not let her out of the house at all, because she was more beautiful than either of them, and they were afraid she might marry first. Things went on like this for seven years, and then the prince of Emania, a king’s son, fell in love with the eldest sister.

One Sunday morning, when Fair and Brown had left for church, the old henwife came into the kitchen. “You ought to be at church today,” she said to Trembling, “instead of working here.”

“How could I go?” said Trembling. “I have no clothes fit to wear to church, and if my sisters saw me there, they would kill me for leaving the house.”

“I will give you a finer dress than either of them has ever seen. Tell me, what dress will you have?”

“A dress as white as snow, and green shoes for my feet.”

The henwife put on the cloak of darkness, snipped a piece from the old clothes the girl was wearing, and asked for the whitest, loveliest robes in the world and a pair of green shoes. At once she had them, and she brought them to Trembling, who put them on. “Here is a honey-bird for your right shoulder,” said the henwife, “and a honey-finger for your left. Waiting at the door is a milk-white mare, with a saddle of gold to ride on and a bridle of gold for your hand. But you must not go inside the church door, and the moment the people stand up at the end of Mass, ride home as fast as the mare can carry you.”

When Trembling reached the church door, everyone inside who caught a glimpse of her longed to learn her name, and when she hurried off as Mass ended, they rushed out after her. It was no use. She was gone before any man could come near. All the way home she overtook the wind in front of her and outran the wind behind. She found that the henwife had dinner ready, took off the white robes and was back in her old dress in a twinkling.

When the sisters came home, the henwife asked if they had any news from church. “Great news,” they said. “We saw a wonderful grand lady at the church door. We have never seen robes like hers on any woman. Nobody thought anything of our dresses beside hers, and every man there, from the king to the beggar, was trying to see her and find out who she was.” The sisters gave no peace until they had dresses like the strange lady’s, but honey-birds and honey-fingers were not to be had.

The next Sunday the sisters went to church and left Trembling at home to cook. The henwife came in and asked whether she would go. “I would, if I could get there.”

“What robe will you wear?”

“The finest black satin that can be found, and red shoes for my feet.”

“And what colour mare?”

“So black and glossy that I can see myself in her coat.”

The henwife put on the cloak of darkness and asked for them, and at once she had them. She put the honey-bird and the honey-finger in their places. This time the saddle and bridle were silver. Again she warned Trembling strictly not to go in, and to rush away as soon as the people rose at the end of Mass. That Sunday the people were even more astonished and stared at her even harder, but they had no chance to learn who she was. She slipped away, was in the silver saddle and home before anyone could stop or speak to her, and she was back in her old clothes before her sisters arrived.

“Oh, we saw the grand strange lady!” the sisters told the henwife. “Nobody could think of our dresses after seeing her satin robes. Everyone at church, high and low, stood gaping at her, and no man looked at us.” They gave no rest until they had dresses as close as possible to the strange lady’s, though of course they were not as good, for robes like hers could not be found anywhere in Ireland.

On the third Sunday Fair and Brown went to church in black satin, leaving Trembling in the kitchen with orders to have dinner ready when they came back. When they were out of sight, the henwife came in. “Well, my dear, are you for church today?”

“I would go if I had a new dress.”

“I will get you any dress you like.”

“A dress that is rose-red below the waist and snow-white above it, a green cape on my shoulders, a hat with a red, a white and a green feather, and shoes with red toes, white middles and green backs and heels.”

The henwife wrapped herself in the cloak of darkness and wished, and everything appeared. She set the honey-bird and honey-finger in place and put the hat on Trembling’s head. Then she snipped a few hairs from one lock and a few from another, and at once the most beautiful golden hair flowed down over the girl’s shoulders. Trembling chose a white mare with blue and gold diamond-shaped spots all over her, with a golden saddle and a golden bridle. A bird sat between the mare’s ears and began to sing as soon as Trembling was in the saddle, and it did not stop until she came home from church.

By now the fame of the beautiful stranger had spread through the world, and every prince and great man came to church that Sunday, each hoping to take her home with him after Mass. The prince of Emania forgot Fair entirely and waited outside the church to catch the stranger before she could escape. The church was more crowded than ever, with three times as many people outside, and the crowd was so thick that Trembling could only get as far as the gate.

As the people began to rise at the end of Mass, she slipped out of the gate, leaped into the golden saddle and swept away ahead of the wind. But the prince of Emania was beside her. He seized her by the foot and ran beside the mare for thirty perches, and he did not let go until the shoe came off in his hand and he was left behind holding it.

Trembling rode home as fast as the mare could go, sure that the henwife would kill her for losing the shoe. Seeing her so upset and pale, the old woman asked what was wrong. “I’ve lost one of my shoes!”

“Never mind that,” said the henwife. “Maybe it’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Trembling gave everything back to the henwife, changed into her old clothes and got on with the kitchen work. Her sisters arrived and said, “We saw the grandest sight today. The strange lady came, dressed more splendidly than ever. She and her horse wore the finest colours in the world, and a bird sat between the horse’s ears and sang the whole time. She is the most beautiful woman ever seen in Ireland.”

After the lady vanished, the son of the king of Emania said to the other princes, “I will have that lady for my own.”

“You haven’t won her just by pulling the shoe off her foot,” they said. “You’ll have to win her at the point of the sword and fight us for her first.”

“Well,” said the prince, “when I find the lady that shoe fits, I’ll fight for her, never fear, before I give her up to any of you.”

All the princes were anxious to know who had lost the shoe, and they travelled together in a great company all over Ireland, north, south, east and west. They searched every house in the kingdom where a woman lived, rich or poor, high or low, to find the one the shoe would fit. The prince of Emania always carried it. When young women saw it, they had great hopes, for it was a good ordinary size, and no one could tell what it was made of. One thought it would fit if she cut a bit off her big toe, and another, whose foot was too short, stuffed the toe of her stocking. It did them no good; they only spoiled their feet and spent months healing them.

Fair and Brown heard that the princes of the world were searching Ireland for the woman who could wear the shoe, and every day they talked of trying it on. One day Trembling spoke up. “Maybe it’s my foot the shoe will fit.”

“Oh, the breaking of the dog’s foot on you! How could it be, when you were at home every Sunday?”

On the day the princes were to arrive, the sisters locked Trembling in a cupboard. When the company came, the prince of Emania gave the shoe to the sisters, but try as they might, neither of them could get it on.

“Is there no other young woman here?” asked the prince.

“There is,” said Trembling from inside the cupboard. “I’m here.”

“Oh, we only keep her to put out the ashes,” said the sisters.

But the prince and the others would not leave until they had seen her, so the sisters had to open the door. When Trembling came out, she was given the shoe, and it fitted exactly. The prince looked at her and said, “The shoe fits you, and it was from your foot that I pulled it.”

“Wait here till I come back,” said Trembling, and she went to the henwife’s house. The old woman put on the cloak of darkness and got her everything she had worn on the first Sunday, and Trembling rode up the road to the front of the house on the white mare. Then she went off and came back on the black mare in the second dress, and after that on the spotted mare in the third. Each time, the people who had seen her on that Sunday agreed that this was the lady from church, and every man was satisfied that she was the one.

Then all the princes and great men said to the son of the king of Emania, “Now you will have to fight for her before we let her go with you.”

“I’m here, ready to fight,” said the prince.

The son of the king of Lochlin stepped forward first, and a terrible struggle began. They fought for nine hours, and then the prince of Lochlin stopped, gave up his claim and left the field. The next day the son of the king of Spain fought for six hours and gave up his claim. On the third day the son of the king of Nyerfói fought for eight hours and stopped, and on the fourth the son of the king of Greece fought for six hours and stopped. On the fifth day no more foreign princes wanted to fight. All the princes of Ireland said they would not fight a man of their own land; the strangers had had their chance, and since no one else came forward, they declared the son of the king of Emania the winner.

The wedding day was set, the invitations went out, and the wedding lasted a year and a day. Afterwards the prince took his bride home, and in time she had a son. She sent for her eldest sister, Fair, to stay with her and look after her. One day, when Trembling was well and her husband was out hunting, the two sisters went for a walk. When they reached the shore, Fair pushed Trembling into the sea, and a great whale came and swallowed her.

Fair came home alone. “Where is your sister?” asked the prince.

“She has gone home to our father in Ballyshannon. Now that I am well, I don’t need her.”

“I’m afraid,” said the prince, looking hard at her, “that it’s my wife who has gone.”

“Oh no, it’s my sister Fair who has gone.”

The sisters were very alike, and the prince was not sure. That night he laid his sword between them in the bed and said, “If you are my wife, this sword will grow warm. If not, it will stay cold.” In the morning the sword was as cold as when he put it there.

Now, when the sisters were walking by the shore, a little cowherd boy was minding cattle near the water and saw Fair push Trembling into the sea. With the next day’s tide he watched the whale swim in and cast her up on the sand. She said to him, “When you take the cows home this evening, tell the master that my sister Fair pushed me into the sea yesterday, and that a whale swallowed me and has cast me out, but will swallow me when the next tide comes in, go out with it, and throw me up on the beach with tomorrow’s tide. The whale will cast me out three times. I am under its spell and cannot leave the beach or escape by myself. Unless my husband saves me before I am swallowed the fourth time, I will be lost. He must shoot the whale with a silver bullet when it rolls onto its back. Under its breast-fin is a reddish-brown spot, and he must hit it there, for that is the only place where it can be killed.”

When the boy got home, Fair gave him a drink of forgetfulness, and he said nothing. The next day the whale threw Trembling onto the shore and she asked the boy whether he had given her message. “No,” he said. “The woman of the house gave me a drink that made me forget.”

“Then don’t forget to tell him tonight, and if she offers you a drink, don’t take it.”

That evening, when the boy came home and Fair offered him a drink, he refused it until he had told the master everything.

On the third day the prince went down to the shore with a silver bullet in his gun. He had not been there long when the whale came and threw Trembling up on the beach. She could not speak to her husband until he had killed the whale. Then the whale swam out, rolled over onto its back and showed the spot for a single moment. In that moment the prince fired. He had only one chance, and a short one, but he took it and hit the spot. Wild with pain, the whale turned the sea around it red with blood and died.

At that instant Trembling could speak, and she went home with her husband. He sent word to her father about what Fair had done. Her father came and told the prince to punish her with any death he chose, but the prince said he would leave her fate to her father. So the father had Fair set adrift on the sea in a barrel, with food in it for seven years.

In time Trembling had a second child, a daughter. She and the prince sent the cowherd boy to school and raised him as one of their own, and they said, “If the little girl born to us now lives, no other man in the world shall marry her but him.” And so it was: the cowherd and the prince’s daughter grew up and were married. “You could never have rescued me from the whale without that little cowherd,” Trembling said to her husband, “and for that I don’t grudge him my daughter.”

Trembling and her prince had fourteen children, and they lived happily until both of them died of old age.

About this story

Jacobs took “Fair, Brown, and Trembling” from Jeremiah Curtin’s Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland. In his notes he calls the first part a Cinderella tale and says the second half resembles the end of his Highland story “The Sea-Maiden.” He adds that nearly a dozen versions of the Cinderella group were known in England, Ireland and Scotland.

Tir Conal is the old name for Donegal, and Ballyshannon is a town there; Emania was the ancient royal seat of Ulster. A perch is an old measure of about five and a half yards, so the prince ran beside the mare for well over a hundred and fifty yards.

Read the original: Joseph Jacobs, Celtic Fairy Tales (Gutenberg ebook #7885, Fair, Brown, and Trembling)

For older readers: sibling abuse, threatened killing, foot mutilation, a woman swallowed by a whale, a bloody rescue and a sister set adrift as punishment. Men also compete for a bride, and parents promise an infant daughter’s future marriage.

Reading the story closely

The story makes Trembling’s identity difficult to establish twice. At first, the shoe and her three reappearances in the magical outfits prove that the kitchen worker is the admired stranger. Later, Fair uses their resemblance to impersonate her, while a cold sword creates doubt and the cowherd supplies an eyewitness account. Compare these forms of evidence: which identifies a person, which only warns that something is wrong, and which tells what actually happened?

The rescue depends on Trembling explaining the whale’s movements, the boy resisting the second drink, and the prince acting at the right instant. No one performs all three jobs. Yet the reward repeats a troubling idea from the tournament: a woman’s marriage can be assigned as a prize. Trembling’s daughter is promised before she can choose. The ending celebrates gratitude, but readers can separate giving the boy care and education from deciding his future marriage for both children.

Questions to ask

• Why did Fair and Brown keep Trembling at home?
• How did the prince find out who had lost the shoe?
• What can Trembling, the cowherd and the prince each do that the other two cannot?

Related stories

• Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree — another Celtic tale of jealousy, from Jacobs’s same collection
• The Bald Wife — a Bengali tale where a cruel woman mistreats another and is paid back
• Conal Yellowclaw — a Highland adventure retold by Jacobs