The Peasant And The King

Once upon a time, there lived an old man and his wife. They were poor peasants, and they had only one cow and a very small plot of land. The old man grew barely enough food for them to live on, and their one luxury was the milk their cow gave them.

Part of their land was used as a meadow for the cow to graze on, but the grass there was coarse and not very good to eat. Nevertheless, the cow was able to give enough milk for the old man and his wife.

One day, as the cow was grazing near a hedge, she saw through a gap how deliciously green and much better the grass on the other side was. The land on the other side of the hedge belonged to a rich lord, who allowed nobody past the hedges and fences of his estate.

The hungry cow gave a waddle and a jump and cleared the hedge in one bound. At last, she could feed on as much green grass as she liked. However, the lord’s gamekeeper was out hunting that day, and as he strode through some bushes and out into the field, he saw the strange cow grazing there. He knew at once she did not belong to any of his master’s herds and, after taking careful aim with his bow and arrow, he killed the poor animal.

That evening, the old man went to his plot of land to bring the cow in for the night. He could not find her anywhere, and as a last hope, he looked over the hedge. There he saw his beloved cow, lying dead in the field. The old man could not believe his eyes and rushed back to his cottage to tell his wife the sad news. “What on earth are we going to live on now, and who would be so cruel as to do such a thing?” said his wife when the old man had finished his story.

Even if his wife did not know, the old man had a good idea of who had killed his cow. Determined to get even with the man who had wronged him, he rushed round to the lord’s big manor and asked to see him at once. He was shown into a large room which contained an enormous table covered with food. Right at the end of it sat the lord of the manor, eating from all the dishes, hardly pausing for a breath. Eventually, between mouthfuls, the lord managed to say, “What do you want, peasant?”

“I believe I have a score to settle with you,” said the old man with tears of rage in his eyes.

“Well, what is it?” asked the lord, who had miraculously stopped eating for a minute.

“This afternoon your gamekeeper killed my poor cow after she had wandered into one of your fields.”

The fat lord burst out laughing and asked the old man what he, the lord, was expected to do about it.

“Well, the least you can do is to give me some money to buy another, or give me one of your cows.”

The laughter on the lord’s face turned to a scowl, and he said, “Do not expect me, a lord, to pay for your misfortunes. You have the cheek to come in here and demand money from me. I will see to it that you are punished.” So saying, the lord called two of his servants and asked them to fetch sticks and give the old man a sound beating. Before he had time to escape, the old man was set upon and beaten until he was black and blue all over.

That night, he staggered home and told his wife what had happened. She put him to bed. Then she fetched a piece of birch bark from the wood-shed and sat down by her husband’s bed. While he told her the whole story all over again, she drew some pictures on the piece of bark. Finally, she said, “We must complain to the king about the treatment we have received. That fat and greedy lord had no right to do what he did. I have written this letter to him, and as soon as you are better, you must take it to him.”

The farmer looked at the piece of bark and saw that his wife had drawn their poor little house, the hedge separating their land from the lord’s land, the gamekeeper killing the cow, and himself being beaten.

The next morning, the old man felt strong enough to walk, and after his wife had given him some food for the journey and said goodbye, he set off in the direction of the king’s palace.

His way took him through the heart of a dark forest, and as he trudged along the path, he suddenly heard the sound of a hunting horn. As he looked up, he saw a huntsman, dressed in green and wearing an eagle’s feather in his cap, come into sight. “Where are you going to?” asked the huntsman as he reined in his horse beside the old man.

“I am going to see the king with this letter,” replied the old man, feeling he had to tell someone about his troubles. “But first, come and sit down. Perhaps you would like to share some of my food. It’s not much, I’m afraid, but it will do.”

The huntsman accepted the old man’s offer and climbed down from his horse. While they ate, the old man told the huntsman all that had happened, how his cow had been killed, and how the lord of the manor had had him beaten. When he had finished his sad tale, the huntsman said, “Go and see the king and show him the letter. He will be sure to give you a fair judgment and see that justice is done.” Then, mounting his horse, the huntsman waved farewell and rode off into the forest.

Little did the old man know that he had been talking to the king himself. Without knowing that the king now knew his story, the old man continued on his journey.

He arrived at the palace the next morning and was granted an audience with the king. He entered the throne room, and as soon as he saw the king, he dropped down on one knee and gave a bow. The king was dressed in such fine and costly clothes that the unsuspecting peasant did not recognize him as the huntsman he had met on the previous day. All around the king stood his twelve ministers and advisers.

The old man handed one of the ministers the piece of birch bark on which the letter was written, but the man could make neither head nor tail of it. He passed it to the next minister, but this man could not understand it either. As all twelve ministers muttered and discussed the pictures on the bark, the old man looked from one to the other, hoping they would make a decision soon.

After much muttering and grumbling, the ministers, who were now a little angry because they could not read the letter, decided to send the old man away. Just as they were about to order him to leave, the king spoke. “Give me the letter,” he said to the nearest minister, “perhaps I can understand it.”

After looking at the pictures on the birch bark for a few minutes, the king suddenly exclaimed, “Of course, I see it all now!” The ministers turned in surprise, and the king continued. “This is your little house,” he said, “this is the lord’s house, and this is the break in the hedge, and the gamekeeper killing your cow. The last picture shows you being beaten by the lord’s servants.”

The old man was quite overcome, for he had almost given up hope of anyone understanding the letter. He felt so relieved that he even went up to the king and patted him on the shoulder, something that nobody would have dared to do. Then, turning to the ministers, he said, “The king is the only man here who has any brains. You are merely the men who agree with him.”

The king laughed when he heard this and said to the old man, “Return home now and tell your good wife that the king knows all that has happened. She may rest assured that I will see that justice is done.”

The old man thanked the king and returned home. When his wife opened the door, she showed him a piece of paper with the king’s signature on it. A friend read it to the old man and his wife and told them that the lord had to give them thirty acres of his land, a big house, and seven cows as a punishment for his wicked deed.

When the lord heard about the letter, he was furious, but he could not refuse the king, so he grudgingly handed over the land and the cattle.

The old man and his wife lived happily in their new home, but sometimes the old man would say to his wife, “The king is wise, but I wonder why he goes to the expense of keeping so many ministers, who cannot even read a simple letter?”