The Green Lady is a story attributed to Norfolk because of certain words of local dialect, and is said to have been told by a 95-year-old Norfolk woman, but it is given no particular setting or place in time. Dark, vivid and surreal, it is full of fascinating and intriguing characters.
Over to Hugh Lupton for his retelling of the tale...
Once upon a time there lived a poor old man who had three daughters. One day the eldest daughter said: "Father, give me a cake and a bottle of water so that I can go and seek my fortune."
Her father gave her what she asked for and she set off along the road. After a while she met a little old man who asked her: "Where are you going?"
"To seek service."
"Give me your cake and water, then walk 'til you see a house with a green door. Knock and you'll find fortune... though whether for good or ill I cannot tell."
The girl replied: "The road is long, my legs ain't strong. I'll keep my cake and water."
She walked for a long time, eating and drinking as she went, until she came to the house with a green door. She knocked at the door. Out came a lady who was green from head to foot. Her hair, her face, her dress, her hands, and her feet were as green as leaves, and her two eyes as green and sharp as emeralds.
"What do you want?"
"I've come seeking service."
"What can you do?"
The girl made a dob (curtsey). "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."
"Very well, I'll take you on, but on two conditions: you must neither look up the chimney nor inside the clock-case of the grandfather clock.
The girl made a dob (curtsey). "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."
"Very well, I'll take you on, but on two conditions: you must neither look up the chimney nor inside the clock-case of the grandfather clock.
The girl agreed and they went inside. That night, she slept in front of the fire. The next morning she was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the hearth. As she was working, the green lady's daughter came down the stairs. She was as green as her mother and she was riding a black cat.
"Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."
The girl turned. "Can't you see I'm scrubbing the hearthstone?"
"Then you'll scrub no longer!"
She called upstairs, and her mother came riding down with a chopper in her hand. With one swing of it the girl's head was cut clean from her shoulders. The green daughter hung the head in the chimney, and her mother put the body in the clock-case of the grandfather clock.
Some little while later, the second daughter set off to seek her fortune with a cake and a bottle of water. She met the little old man and all happened as before: "The road is long, my legs ain't strong. I'll keep my cake and water."
When she came to the house with the green door she made a dob: "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."
The green lady took her on with the same two conditions. The next morning the girl was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the doorstep. Down came the green daughter on her black cat.
"Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."
"Can't you see I'm scrubbing the doorstep?"
"Then you'll scrub no longer!"
Down came the green lady with a chopper in her hand, and with one swing of it the girl's head was cut clean from her shoulders. The head was hung in the chimney, and the body in the clock.
Well, weeks and months passed. Then, one day, the younger daughter set off to seek her fortune. After she'd walked for a while she met the little old man: "Where are you going?"
"To seek service."
"Give me your cake and water, then walk 'til you see a house with a green door. Knock and you'll find your fortune... though whether for good or ill I cannot tell."
The girl replied: "The road is long, my legs are strong. Please take my bread and water."
She walked for a long time, her belly aching with hunger, until she came to the house with a green door: out came the lady, green as leaves and her eyes as sharp as emeralds.
"What do you want?"
"I've come seeking service."
"What can you do?"
She made a dob. "I can bake and I can brew, and I can make an Irish stew."
"Very well, I'll take you on, but on two conditions, you must neither look up the chimney, nor inside the clock-case of the grandfather clock."
The third daughter said neither yes nor no, but followed the green lady into the house. That night she slept in front of the fire. The next morning she was up at the crack of dawn, cleaning and washing the oven. Down came the green lady's daughter: "Be so kind as to cut me a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."
The girl jumped to her feet and fetched a loaf from the cupboard. She sliced and buttered it, and gave it to the green daughter. The daughter was delighted. She called to her mother, and all three of them sat at the table and ate their fill... and as for the girl, she ate and ate until her aching belly ached no longer.
That afternoon, when the oven had been cleaned spotless, the green lady said: "You stay and mind the house; we're going out for a ride."
The two black cats were saddled and bridled, and the green lady and her daughter rode away across the green fields and into the green woods.
As soon as they were gone, the girl ran to the chimney and looked upwards. There, she saw the heads of her two sisters hanging by their hair. She reached and took them down. She sat with them cradled in her lap. She combed their hair and washed the soot from their cheeks with her tears.
Then she looked in the clock-case of the grandfather clock. There, she saw her sisters' bodies. She pulled them out and laid them on the ground. She straightened the fold and creases of their skirts and blouses. Then she put their heads to their shoulders. And the skin of their necks melted and melded, and their eyes winked and blinked, and each of them drew in a breath of air.
"Where have we been?"
"Never mind that," said the third daughter. "Quick! Come with me."
She took their hands and they ran out into the garden. They ran past apple and pear trees until they came to a clump of gooseberry bushes. The girl called out:
"Hide us hide us
So that they won't find us
If they do they'll break our bones
And bury us under the marble stones."
They dived in among the bushes, and not one thorn pierced them. They were only just in time. The green lady and her daughter came riding up to the house. They opened the door.
"Be so kind as to cut us a slice of bread and spread some butter on it."
But there was no answer. They looked here and there. The girl was gone. They looked up the chimney and inside the clock. Her sisters were gone. They shrieked with fury. They seized their choppers and leapt onto the backs of the two black cats.
First they asked the apple trees: "Where did they go?"
But the apple trees wouldn't answer, so they chopped them down.
Then they asked the pear trees: "Where did they go?"
But the pear trees wouldn't answer, so they chopped them down.
Then they came to the gooseberry patch. "Which way did they go?"
And one gooseberry bush said: "This way and that way and hither and yon."
And another gooseberry bush said: "And on and over the river."
So they rode out of the garden to the river's edge, and they whipped the black cats into the water... but down they sank and the water closed over them. The green lady and her daughter were drowned.
As for the three sisters, they crawled out from under the gooseberry bushes, went to the house, lifted the latch and opened the door. They searched downstairs and upstairs, they peered into chests and cupboards... and they found gold enough to last them the rest of their days.
So they lived happy, and so may we, let's put on the kettle and have a cup of tea.
Excerpt from Norfolk Folk Tales by Hugh Lupton, available on Amazon, but try your local independent bookshop first!
Green door photo: Eirian Evans
Featured painting: Spirit of the Forest by Josephine Wall
Gooseberry bush photo: kahvikisu
