Little Ash Dove (Cinderella)
A Fairy Tale
“Aschenputtel” (Cinderella) was tale number 21 in the 1812 edition of Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Tales) by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. An anonymous woman in the university town of Marburg was said to have related it to the Grimms. Other storytellers, such as Dorothea Viehmann of Hesse-Kassel (a daughter of French Huguenots), contributed to the German version of this an ancient story that appears in many cultures. The Grimms’ telling was influenced by Charles Perreault’s “Cendrillon” from his 1697 collection, Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralités (Histories or Tales from Time Past, with Morals).
I have appended some comments at the end explaining why I translated “Aschenputtel” as “Little Ash Dove” instead of “Cinderella.” There are many allusions to doves in the story. It is the doves who take on the role of the fairy godmother in the Disney version as the servants of her dead mother. On the first night of the ball, she flees the prince and hides in a dovecote. On the second night, she climbs a pear tree and the doves help her escape. They provide the heroine with the clothes for the ball. They help her do the chores the stepmother imposes on her. And at the end it is the doves that punish the stepsisters.
The following is a retelling more so than an adaptation, since it adheres closely to the sequence of events in Grimms’ version. However, I have expanded on the poems and transformed the one or two doves that appear at different times in the hazel tree into a flock. I have embellished many passages; but have retained the gory details in the latter half. These macabre elements were not considered too dark for nineteenth-century readers continued to be reproduced in children’s editions of Grimms’ tales well into the twentieth century.
Little Ash Dove (Cinderella)
Once upon a time, the wife of a rich man became very ill. Before she died she summoned her only daughter to her bedside. “Be good and pious when I am gone. I shall watch over you from on high. You will know I am with you when you see my servitors, the white doves of Heaven. They will grant you whatever you wish.”
When she died, she was buried. But neither cross nor headstone marked the grave. Each day the girl went to the mound to pray. Winter arrived, covering the ground with snow. But the girl still knelt and prayed on the white dust. Some mistook her for a young dove trembling in the snow.
When spring came, the sun burned away the last vestiges of winter, and the rich man was married again. His new wife had two beautiful daughters with luxuriant chestnut hair. But they were selfish and cruel. “Mother,” they said, “why does this annoying little dove sit with us in the parlor? Does not the Bible that whosoever shall not work shall not eat? Send her to the kitchen to earn her keep.”
They took away her nice clothes, dressed her in a gray smock, and gave her wooden clogs to wear. This done, the stepsisters dragged her into the kitchen, saying, “Look at the pretty princess now!”
The poor girl was forced to work from morning to night. She rose before dawn to fetch water. She built the fire, cooked all the meals, and cleaned up after everyone.
Her stepmother and stepsisters did things taunt her and make her look foolish. They poured lentils into the cinders and commanded her to retrieve these and remove every speck of ash until each lentil gleamed. They took away the girl’s bed and made her sleep by the kitchen hearth, so that her clothes and face were always dirty.
“We shall call you Little Ash Dove,” they said, “because you look like a filthy little bird.”
One day her father announced that he would be riding into town to go to the market. He asked his three daughters what they wanted him to bring back for them.
“Bring me dresses!” said the first.
“I want pearls,” said the second.
“And what about you, Little Ash Dove?” her father asked.
Without lifting her eyes, the girl spoke: “Break off the first twig that touches your hat and give this to me.”
At the market he bought many dresses and pearls for his two stepdaughters. On the way home, a hazel twig knocked his hat it off his head and a flock of doves bore it away. The rich man broke off the offending twig. When he returned, he gave it to Little Ash Dove.
She thanked him, and took it to her mother’s grave. She planted it atop the mound and prayed, watering it with her tears. Instantly, it grew into a lofty hazel tree with spreading branches. She went to it three times a day, and wept and prayed. Each time she came, a new white dove appeared among the flock.
The Prince of the realm, a handsome young man, proclaimed he would host a masquerade ball on three consecutive nights. All the guests would be obliged to wear a mask. But he would not wear one. At the conclusion of this three-day gala, the Prince would choose one maiden to be his bride.
When the stepsisters received this news, they were certain one of them would be chosen. They ordered Little Ash Dove to come to their chambers. “Do our hair, brush our shoes, tighten our staylaces! One of us is going to be a princess soon!”
Little Ash Dove wanted to go to the masquerade as well. So she asked her stepmother for permission. The haughty woman glowered at her. “You have no clothes to wear, Little Ash Dove. But I shall pour these lentils into the cinders; and, if you pluck them out and remove every speck of ash within two hours, you may come along with us.”
Little Ash Dove ran out the kitchen door into the garden. She sang to the doves circling overhead:
“Oh lovely white doves in the limpid sky, put each lentil in this earthenware pot. But flick off the flecks of ash flakes and try to pluck out each speck and peck out each spot.”
The birds flew into the kitchen, landed on the ashes, and set to work, bobbing their heads with a peck, peck, peck. And they pecked and plucked, and they bobbed their heads; and they cooed and they pecked some more. And in less than an hour, the lentils were in the earthenware pot; and every speck of ash had been removed.
When Little Ash Dove showed this to her stepmother, the woman said, “I’m sorry, but you still can’t go. You don’t know how to dance. Everyone will laugh at you. But I shall pour two bowls of lentils into the cinders. And if you pluck them out and remove every speck of ash within one hour, you may come along with us.”
Little Ash Dove ran outside again and sang to the doves overhead:
“Oh lovely white doves in the limpid sky, put each lentil in this earthenware pot. But flick off the flecks of ash flakes and try to pluck out each speck and peck out each spot.”
The birds flew into the kitchen, landed on the ashes, and set to work, bobbing their heads with a peck, peck, peck. And they pecked and plucked, and they bobbed their heads; and they cooed and they pecked some more. And in less than an hour, the lentils were in the earthenware pot; and every speck of ash had been removed.
When Little Ash Dove showed her stepmother, the woman said, “I’m sorry, Little Ash Dove, but you still can’t go. You have nothing nice to wear, and you don’t know how to dance. You would only embarrass us.”
Then she turned her back on the girl, and went to her daughters’ rooms. That night, the girl’s father, stepmother, and stepsisters went to the masquerade; and left Little Ash Dove behind. She went to the hazel tree and cried out: “Oh blessed spirit in the hazel tree, let silver and gold descend upon me.”
A sumptuous gown of gold and silver fell from the branches. The doves bobbed their heads up and down, and removed every speck of ash from the girl’s skin until it glistened. She wore silk slippers embroidered with silver threads. And two doves placed a golden mask on her nose.
When the Prince saw Little Ash Dove, he went to her and took her hand. He refused to dance with anyone else. He remained beside her all through the night. When other men approached and asked to dance with her, the Prince said, “She is my partner.”
Later, he told her asked to escort her home so that he could learn whose daughter she was. But Little Ash Dove eluded him, and fled into the forest. The Prince pursued her. In alarm, she climbed a ladder that led up to her father’s dovecote. The Prince told her father that the woman he had danced with was hiding inside.
Could this be Little Ash Dove? her father thought. He told the Prince that he would fetch an axe and chop it down. But when it crashed to the earth and burst into pieces, it was empty. Little Ash Dove had climbed out the back; and the doves had spirited her away to the hazel tree.
She knew she did not have much time. She removed her garments, laid them on the burial mound, and ran naked to the mansion. Once inside, she put on her gray smock, smudged ashes on her face, lit a candle, and lay down next to the hearth. When her father returned, he went to the kitchen. He saw the candle burning and thought, The girl at the masquerade could not have been Little Ash Dove.
On the second night, the girl returned to the hazel tree and said, “Oh blessed spirit in the hazel tree, let silver and gold descend upon me.”
This time an even more luxurious gown fell. Everyone at the ball was amazed. The Prince knew she would return. He took her hand and danced only with her. When other men approached and asked to dance with Little Ash Dove, the Prince said, “She is my partner.”
Later that night, the girl fled the Prince. She saw him sprinting after her. So instead of going to the mansion, she climbed a pear tree and concealed herself in the foliage. Her father happened upon the Prince standing beneath it, eating a pear. “The woman I danced with tonight climbed this tree.”
Could this be Little Ash Dove? her father thought. He fetched his axe and chopped the tree down. But no one was in the branches, because the doves had carried the girl away to the hazel tree. As with the previous night, her father returned to the mansion. When he went to the kitchen and saw the candle burning, he thought, The girl at the masquerade could not have been Little Ash Dove.
On the last night, the doves in the hazel tree arrayed Little Ash Dove in the most gorgeous and impressive gown yet. Her slippers were made of pure gold. When she appeared, the guests could not believe what their eyes and gasped in astonishment.
The Prince took Little Ash Dove’s hand and danced only with her. When other men approached and asked to dance with her, the Prince said, “She is my partner.”
When it was late, Little Ash Dove snuck away from the Prince, and ran down the steps . But the young man had anticipated this. So he ordered the steps of the staircase to be smeared with pitch. When Little Ash Dove descended, her left slipper got stuck; and she had to run away without it.
The next morning, the prince and his retainers came to the mansion of the rich man. The Prince himself was carrying the golden shoe on a bolster. He addressed the household: “The woman I shall wed is the one whose foot fits in this slipper.”
The two sisters were overjoyed because they had beautiful feet. The older took the slipper to her room. But she could not cram her big toe into it. So her mother handed her a knife and said, “Cut off your toe. Once you are married, you will never need to walk again.”
The girl cut off her toe, crammed her foot in the slipper, and clenched her teeth to hide the pain. When she appeared before the assembly, the Prince asked her to be his wife. The two of them left the mansion and walked toward the palace. But they had to pass the grave of Little Ash Dove’s mother. The birds in the hazel tree began to sing:
“Oh, hear how we coo! We see more than you. For we know that the girl by your side has cut off her toe to fit in the shoe. See the blood oozing out with each stride?”
When the Prince looked down and saw that the birds had sung true, he led the older stepsister back to the mansion; and told her father that this was not the maiden he was looking for.
The younger sister went to her room to try on the slipper, but her heel was too big. So her mother handed her a knife and said, “Cut off your heel. Once you are married, you will never need to walk again.”
The girl cut off her heel, crammed her foot in the slipper, and clenched her teeth to hide the pain. When she appeared before the assembly, the Prince asked her to be his wife. The two of them left the mansion and walked toward the palace. But they had to pass the grave of Little Ash Dove’s mother. The birds in the hazel tree began to sing:
“Oh, hear how we coo! We see more than you. For we know that the girl by your side has cut off her heel to fit in the shoe. See the blood oozing out with each stride?”
When the Prince looked down and saw that the birds had sung true, he led her back to the mansion. And told her father that this was not the maiden he was looking for.
“Do you have any other daughters?” the Prince asked.
“No,” the rich man said. “The only other girl in the house is my dead wife’s daughter, Little Ash Dove. But she’s stupid and couldn’t possibly be the one you’re looking for.”
“Send her here,” said the Prince.
But the girl’s stepmother raised an objection. “My Lord, Little Ash Dove is dirty and disgusting to look at.”
“Nevertheless,” the young nobleman said, “it is my will to see her.”
So Little Ash Dove was summoned. But before she went into the room, she washed her face and shook the dust from her smock to make herself as presentable as she could.
The Prince bent down and proffered the golden slipper. Little Ash Dove removed her left clog and slipped the shoe on. It fit perfectly.
The Prince gazed into her eyes, and said, “This is the woman I shall marry.”
He escorted her out of the mansion, and the walked toward the palace. When they passed her mother’s grave, all the white doves in the hazel tree took flight and encircled them.
On the day of the wedding, her two stepsisters planned to ingratiate themselves to Little Ash Dove and beg for her mercy. But as they limped toward the church, the white doves swooped down on them, bobbing their heads with a peck, peck, peck; and they pecked and plucked, and they bobbed their heads, and they ate the stepsisters’ eyes. Maimed and blinded, the two disfigured girls, arm-in-arm, wandered off into the forest, and were never seen again.
No one knows exactly what “Puttel” means in Aschenputtel’s name. Some claim it is an old German word for “a low-born girl” or “kitchen maid.” But I can find no textual evidence in any German dictionary I have consulted to support this. In addition to their work on early German folk and fairy tales, the Brothers Grimm compiled their own dictionary of the German language, which was published in 1854 and entitled “Deutsches Wörterbuch” (German Dictionary).
I think some light can be shed on the mystery if we take a look at some of the entries for words beginning with PUT.
The headword PUT (variant: PUTT) states that this is an interjection for calling chickens: put, put, put. It is still used this way in German-speaking countries. It is similar to the onomatopoeic bawk, bawk, bawk that some English speakers use. The entry for PUTE, which means turkey, indicates that the word was also used to refer to any small or young bird. It is related to the old English powt, which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “young bird” and “pout,” adding that it is linked to another obsolete term: powtry (poultry).
The Grimms quote a line from Johann Timotheus Hermes: “Der Mann hängt den Kopf wie die jungen Puten beim Regenwetter” (The man droops his head like the young birds when it rains). Two valid diminutives are given for the word: puttchen and puttlein. (And it is worth nothing that no umlaut has been placed on the u, which one might expect for a diminutive.) The word can be used pejoratively to mean “dumb little goose,” “dumb little chick,” etc. And the same entry explains that put/putt can be combined with other birds, like doves (Tauben), as a compound word meaning an immature bird of that type.
On the second column of the same page in the dictionary, the Grimms devote an entire entry for the diminutive PUTTLEIN (young chick). In the Carinthian dialect of German this word is exclusively used for female birds; but in Silesian German, it can be rendered as PUTTLE, which parallels the Old High German diminutive suffix “-el” and would be pronounced in the same way. For example, the fairy tale “Hänsel und Gretel” literally means “Little Hans and Little Greta.”
While there is no direct correlation between the dictionary entry that the Grimms wrote and the title of the fairy tale, I believe they may have intended Aschenputtel’s name to mean something like “Little Ash Bird,” or “Little Ash Dove.” I was going to use “dovelet” or “doveling”; but both are relatively new English words; and though “squabs” is technically the preferred word for a young dove, I thought that word would be too obscure.
There is another theory that proposes the word “puttel” was from putteln; and was possibly a regional variation of the German verb buddeln, meaning to scrounge about in the dust, as birds do when they take “dust baths” to ward off parasites.
I actually like "Little Ash Dove" as a name for her better than "Cinderella".
Wow, in this version her father was awful. No wonder Disney had him die