Wednesday, 2 December 2020

Good Reading: "Two Heavily Dressed Millers" by Ludwig Bechstein (translated into English)

Once on a time there lived a miller. Although he was naturally very strong and well, yet he wished to make himself proof against all blows or stabs or strokes of any kind. So he had some remarkable clothing made for him: First he had a carefully stuffed jacket, as heavy and sword-proof as any breast-plate ever worn by a knight.

Underneath this jacket he wore two coats of mail and nine woollen coats, and his legs were covered by more than four pair of strong leather trousers.

When the miller was dressed in this way he was quite as broad as he was long. He could get in and out of the city-gate only with some difficulty.

Every year when he attended church on St. Oswald's Day he went armed from head to foot in the most formidable manner, in a wagon drawn by six stout oxen. He was armed with two spears and a crossbow; at his side hung a double-hilted sword as long as himself and at his feet lay a second bow with a quiver full of arrows.

After him walked all his tenants and servants, with their wives and children.

When the ball-round miller at length came to church, he had to be raised from his wagon by means of cranes and ladders.

Now there was another miller in the neighbourhood who was quite as big and strong and quite as round as the first miller. He too wore a well-stuffed and strong-made jacket.

These two millers had hated and quarrelled with each other for a long time. Every holiday that they chanced to meet, they were sure to end up fighting, Neither of them could conquer the other, so they both came to be feared as two mighty warriors.

Now one of these millers had a son and the other a daughter and their loved one another. This only served to increase the feud between their fathers, till at last the friends of each set to work to reconcile them, and succeeded so well that the couple was engaged to be married.

As soon as the report of this was made known, there was a great outcry, for most people agreed that the two ball-round millers together could crush everyone between them like two millstones. Besides, the two millers could not be easily starved out, since within their wide coats they could carry as many sacks of meal as they needed for a long time.

It was a source of joy to many when the two millers agreed to fight together against enemies of the country and asked no other reward than the glory and honour of doing it. But rather soon they began to complain that they had no enemies to fight, for the renown of their might spread so far and wide that all were cautious of attacking them. In this way the two ball-round millers ended up without enemies to fight.

Tuesday, 1 December 2020

Tuesday’s Serial: “On War” by General Carl von Clausewitz (Translated into English by Colonel J.J. Graham) – XXVIII

CHAPTER XII - Defensive Position

Every position in which we accept battle, at the same time making use of the ground as a means of protection, is a defensive position, and it makes no difference in this respect whether we act more passively or more offensively in the action. This follows from the general view of the defensive which we have given.

Now we may also apply the term to every position in which an army whilst marching to encounter the enemy would certainly accept battle if the latter sought for it. In point of fact, most battles take place in this way, and in all the middle ages no other was ever thought of. That is, however, not the kind of position of which we are now speaking; by far the greater number of positions are of this kind, and the conception of a position in contradistinction to a camp taken up on the march would suffice for that. A position which is specially called a defensive position must therefore have some other distinguishing characteristics.

In the decisions which take place in an ordinary position, the idea of time evidently predominates; the armies march against each other in order to come to an engagement: the place is a subordinate point, all that is required from it is that it should not be unsuitable. But in a real defensive position the idea of place predominates; the decision is to be realised on this spot, or rather, chiefly through this spot. That is the only kind of position we have here in view.

Now the connection of place is a double one; that is, in the first instance, inasmuch as a force posted at this point exercises a certain influence upon the war in general; and next, inasmuch as the local features of the ground contribute to the strength of the army and afford protection: in a word, a strategic and a tactical connection.

Strictly speaking, the term defensive position has its origin only in connection with tactics, for its connection with strategy, namely, that an army posted at this point by its presence serves to defend the country, will also suit the case of an army acting offensively.

The strategic effect to be derived from a position cannot be shown completely until hereafter, when we discuss the defence of a theatre of war; we shall therefore only consider it here as far as can be done at present, and for that end we must examine more closely the nature of two ideas which have a similarity and are often mistaken for one another, that is, the turning a position, and the passing by it.

The turning a position relates to its front, and is done either by an attack upon the side of the position or on its rear, or by acting against its lines of retreat and communication.

The first of these, that is, an attack on flank or rear is tactical in its nature. In our days in which the mobility of troops is so great, and all plans of battles have more or less in view the turning or enveloping the enemy, every position must accordingly be adapted to meet such measures, and one to deserve the name of strong must, with a strong front, allow at least of good combinations for battle on the sides and rear as well, in case of their being menaced. In this way a position will not become untenable by the enemy turning it with a view to an attack on the flank or rear, as the battle which then takes place was provided for in the choice of the position, and should ensure the defender all the advantages which he could expect from this position generally.

If the position is turned by the enemy with a view to acting against the lines of retreat and communication, this is a strategic relation, and the question is how long the position can be maintained, and whether we cannot outbid the enemy by a scheme like his own, both these questions depend on the situation of the point (strategically), that is, chiefly on the relations of the lines of communication of both combatants. A good position should secure to the army on the defensive the advantage in this point. In any case the position will not be rendered of no effect in this way, as the enemy is neutralised by the position when he is occupied by it in the manner supposed.

But if the assailant, without troubling himself about the existence of the army awaiting his attack in a defensive position, advances with his main body by another line in pursuit of his object, then he passes by the position; and if he can do this with impunity, and really does it, he will immediately enforce the abandonment of the position, consequently put an end to its usefulness.

There is hardly any position in the world which, in the simple sense of the words, cannot be passed by, for cases such as the isthmus of Perekop are so rare that they are hardly worth attention. The impossibility of passing by must therefore be understood as merely applying to the disadvantages in which the assailant would become involved if he set about such an operation. We shall have a more fitting opportunity to state these disadvantages in the twenty-seventh chapter; whether small or great, in every case they are the equivalent of the tactical effect which the position is capable of producing but which has not been realised, and in common with it constitute the object of the position.

From the preceding observations, therefore, two strategic properties of the defensive position have resulted:

 

1. That it cannot be passed round.

2. That in the struggle for the lines of communication it gives the defender advantages.

 

Here we have to add two other strategic properties, namely—

 

3. That the relation of the lines of communication may also have a favourable influence on the form of combat; and

4. That the general influence of the country is advantageous.

 

For the relation of the lines of communication has an influence not only upon the possibility or impossibility of passing by a position or of cutting off the enemy’s supplies, but also on the whole course of the battle. An oblique line of retreat facilitates a tactical turning movement on the part of the assailant, and paralyses our own tactical movements during the battle. But an oblique position in relation to the lines of communication is often not the fault of tactics but a consequence of a defective strategic point; it is, for example, not to be avoided when the road changes direction in the vicinity of the position (Borodino, 1812); the assailant is then in such a position that he can turn our line without deviating from, his own perpendicular disposition.

Further, the aggressor has much greater freedom for tactical movement if he commands several roads for his retreat whilst we are limited to one. In such cases the tactical skill of the defensive will be exerted in vain to overcome the disadvantageous influence resulting from the strategic relations.

Lastly as regards the fourth point, such a disadvantageous general influence may predominate in the other characteristics of ground, that the most careful choice, and the best use of tactical means, can do nothing to combat them. Under such circumstances the chief points are as follows:

 

1. The defensive must particularly seek for the advantage of being able to overlook his adversary, so that he may be able swiftly to throw himself upon him inside the limits of his position. It is only when the local difficulties of approach combine with these two conditions that the ground is really favourable to the defensive.

 

On the other hand, those points which are under the influence of commanding ground are disadvantageous to him; also most positions in mountains (of which we shall speak more particularly in the chapters on mountain warfare). Further, positions which rest one flank on mountains, for such a position certainly makes the passing by more difficult, but facilitates a turning movement. Of the same kind are all positions which have a mountain immediately in their front, and generally all those which bear relation to the description of ground above specified.

As an example of the opposite of these disadvantageous properties, we shall only instance the case of a position which has a mountain in rear; from this so many advantages result that it may be assumed in general to be one of the most favourable of all positions for the defensive.

 

2. A country may correspond more or less to the character and composition of an army. A very numerous cavalry is a proper reason for seeking an open country. Want of this arm, perhaps also of artillery, while we have at command a courageous infantry inured to war, and acquainted with the country, make it advisable to take advantage of a difficult, close country.

 

We do not here enter into particulars respecting the tactical relation which the local features of a defensive position bear to the force which is to occupy it. We only speak of the total result, as that only is a strategic quantity.

Undoubtedly a position in which an army is to await the full force of the hostile attack, should give the troops such an important advantage of ground as may be considered a multiplier of its force. Where nature does much, but not to the full as much as we want, the art of entrenchment comes to our help. In this way it happens not unfrequently that some parts become unassailable, and not unusually the whole is made so: plainly in this last case, the whole nature of the measure is changed. It is then no longer a battle under advantageous conditions which we seek, and in this battle the issue of the campaign, but an issue without a battle. Whilst we occupy with our force an unassailable position, we directly refuse the battle, and oblige our enemy to seek for a solution in some other way.

We must, therefore, completely separate these two cases, and shall speak of the latter in the following chapter, under the title of a strong position.

But the defensive position with which we have now to do is nothing more than a field of battle with the addition of advantages in our favour; and that it should become a field of battle, the advantages in our favour must not be too great. But now what degree of strength may such a position have? Plainly more in proportion as our enemy is more determined on the attack, and that depends on the nature of the individual case. Opposed to a Buonaparte, we may and should withdraw behind stronger ramparts than before a Daun or a Schwartzenburg.

If certain portions of a position are unattackable, say the front, then that is to be taken as a separate factor of its whole strength, for the forces not required at that point are available for employment elsewhere; but we must not omit to observe that whilst the enemy is kept completely off such impregnable points, the form of his attack assumes quite a different character, and we must ascertain, in the first instance, how this alteration will suit our situation.

For instance, to take up a position, as has often been done, so close behind a great river that it is to be looked upon as covering the front, is nothing else but to make the river a point of support for the right or left flank; for the enemy is naturally obliged to cross further to the right or left, and cannot attack without changing his front: the chief question, therefore, is what advantages or disadvantages does that bring to us?

According to our opinion, a defensive position will come the nearer to the true ideal of such a position the more its strength is hid from observation, and the more it is favourable to our surprising the enemy by our combinations in the battle. Just as we advisably endeavour to conceal from the enemy the whole strength of our forces and our real intentions, so in the same way we should seek to conceal from the enemy the advantages which we expect to derive from the form of the ground. This of course can only be done to a certain degree, and requires, perhaps, a peculiar mode of proceeding, hitherto but little attempted.

The vicinity of a considerable fortress, in whatever direction it may be, confers on every position a great advantage over the enemy in the movement and use of the forces belonging to it. By suitable field-works, the want of natural strength at particular points may be remedied, and in that manner the great features of the battle may be settled beforehand at will; these are the means of strengthening by art; if with these we combine a good selection of those natural obstacles of ground which impede the effective action of the enemy’s forces without making action absolutely impossible, if we turn to the best account the advantage we have over the enemy in knowing the ground, which he does not, so that we succeed in concealing our movements better than he does his, and that we have a general superiority over him in unexpected movements in the course of the battle, then from these advantages united, there may result in our favour an overpowering and decisive influence in connection with the ground, under the power of which the enemy will succumb, without knowing the real cause of his defeat. This is what we understand under defensive position, and we consider it one of the greatest advantages of defensive war.

Leaving out of consideration particular circumstances, we may assume that an undulating, not too well, but still not too little, cultivated country affords the most positions of this kind.

 

CHAPTER XIII - Strong Positions and Entrenched Camps

We have said in the preceding chapter that a position so strong through nature, assisted by art, that it is unassailable, does not come under the meaning of an advantageous field of battle, but belongs to a peculiar class of things. We shall in this chapter take a review of what constitutes the nature of this peculiarity, and on account of the analogy between such positions and fortresses, call them strong positions.

Merely by entrenchments alone they can hardly be formed, except as entrenched camps resting on fortresses; but still less are they to be found ready formed entirely by natural obstacles. Art usually lends a hand to assist nature, and therefore they are frequently designated as entrenched camps or positions. At the same time, that term may really be applied to any position strengthened more or less by field works, which need have nothing in common with the nature of the position we are now considering.

The object of a strong position is to make the force there stationed in point of fact unattackable, and by that means, either really to cover a certain space directly, or only the troops which occupy that space in order then, through them, in another way to effect the covering of the country indirectly. The first was the signification of the lines of former times, for instance, those on the French frontier; the latter, is that of entrenched camps laid out near fortresses, and showing a front in every direction.

If, for instance, the front of a position is so strong by works and hindrances to approach that an attack is impossible, then the enemy is compelled to turn it, to make his attack on a side of it or in rear. Now to prevent this being easily done, points d’appui were sought for these lines, which should give them a certain degree of support on the side, such as the Rhine and the Vosges give the lines in Alsace. The longer the front of such a line the more easily it can be protected from being turned, because every movement to turn it is attended with danger to the side attempting the movement, the danger increasing in proportion as the required movement causes a greater deviation from the normal direction of the attacking force. Therefore, a considerable length of front, which can be made unassailable, and good flank-supports, ensure the possibility of protecting a large space of territory directly from hostile invasion: at least, that was the view in which works of this class originated; that was the object of the lines in Alsace, with their right flank on the Rhine and the left on the Vosges; and the lines in Flanders, fifteen miles long, resting their right on the Scheldt and the fortress of Tournay, their left on the sea.

But when we have not the advantages of such a long well-defended front, and good flank-supports, if the country is to be held generally by a force well entrenched, then that force (and its position) must be protected against being turned by such an arrangement that it can show a front in every direction. But then the idea of a thoroughly covered tract of country vanishes, for such a position is only strategically a point which covers the force occupying it, and thus secures to that force the power of keeping the field, that is to say, maintaining itself in the country. Such a camp cannot be turned, that is, cannot be attacked in flank or rear by reason of those parts being weaker than its front, for it can show front in all directions, and is equally strong everywhere. But such a camp can be passed by, and that much easier than a fortified line, because its extent amounts to nothing.

Entrenched camps connected with fortresses are in reality of this second kind, for the object of them is to protect the troops assembled in them; but their further strategic meaning, that is, the application of this protected force, is somewhat different from that of other fortified camps.

Having given this explanation of the origin of these three different defensive means, we shall now proceed to consider the value of each of them separately, under the heads of strong lines, strong positions, and entrenched camps resting on fortresses.

 

1. Lines.—They are the worst kind of cordon war: the obstacle which they present to the aggressor is of no value at all unless they are defended by a powerful fire; in themselves they are simply worthless. But now the extent to which an army can furnish an effective fire is generally very small in proportion to the extent of country to be defended; the lines can, therefore, only be short, and consequently cover only a small extent of country, or the army will not be able really to defend the lines at all points. In consequence of this, the idea was started of not occupying all points in the line, but only watching them, and defending them by means of strong reserves, in the same way as a small river may be defended; but this procedure is in opposition to the nature of the means. If the natural obstacles of the ground are so great that such a method of defence could be applied, then the entrenchments were needless, and entail danger, for that method of defence is not local, and entrenchments are only suited to a strictly local defence; but if the entrenchments themselves are to be considered the chief impediments to approach, then we may easily conceive that an undefended line will not have much to say as an obstacle to approach. What is a twelve or fifteen feet ditch, and a rampart ten or twelve feet high, against the united efforts of many thousands, if these efforts are not hindered by the fire of an enemy? The consequence, therefore, is, that if such lines are short and tolerably well defended by troops, they can be turned; but if they are extensive, and not sufficiently occupied, they can be attacked in front, and taken without much difficulty.

Now as lines of this description tie the troops down to a local defence, and take away from them all mobility, they are a bad and senseless means to use against an enterprising enemy. If we find them long retained in modern wars in spite of these objections, the cause lies entirely in the low degree of energy impressed on the conduct of war, one consequence of which was, that seeming difficulties often effected quite as much as real ones. Besides, in most campaigns these lines were used merely for a secondary defence against irregular incursions; if they have been found not wholly inefficacious for that purpose, we must only keep in view, at the same time, how much more usefully the troops required for their defence might have been employed at other points. In the latest wars such lines have been out of the question, neither do we find any trace of them; and it is doubtful if they will ever re-appear.

 

2. Positions.—The defence of a tract of country continues (as we shall show more plainly in the 27th chapter) as long as the force designated for it maintains itself there, and only ceases if that force removes and abandons it.

If a force is to maintain itself in any district of country which is attacked by very superior forces, the means of protecting this force against the power of the sword by a position which is unassailable is a first consideration.

Now such a position, as before said, must be able to show a front in all directions; and in conformity with the usual extent of tactical positions, if the force is not very large (and a large force would be contrary to the nature of the supposed case) it would take up a very small space, which, in the course of the combat, would be exposed to so many disadvantages that, even if strengthened in every possible way by entrenchments, we could hardly expect to make a successful defence. Such a camp, showing front in every direction, must therefore necessarily have an extent of sides proportionably great; but these sides must likewise be as good as unassailable; to give this requisite strength, notwithstanding the required extension, is not within the compass of the art of field fortification; it is therefore a fundamental condition that such a camp must derive part of its strength from natural impediments of ground which render many places impassable and others difficult to pass. In order, therefore, to be able to apply this defensive means, it is necessary to find such a spot, and when that is wanting, the object cannot be attained merely by field works. These considerations relate more immediately to tactical results in order that we may first establish the existence of this strategic means; we mention as examples for illustration, Pirna, Bunzelwitz, Colberg, Torres Vedras, and Drissa. Now, as respects the strategic properties and effects. The first condition is naturally that the force which occupies this camp shall have its subsistence secured for some time, that is, for as long as we think the camp will be required, and this is only possible when the position has behind it a port, like Colberg and Torres Vedras, or stands in connection with a fortress like Bunzelwitz and Pirna, or has large depôts within itself or in the immediate vicinity, like Drissa.

It is only in the first case that the provisioning can be ensured for any time we please; in the second and third cases, it can only be so for a more or less limited time, so that in this point there is always danger. From this appears how the difficulty of subsistence debars the use of many strong points which otherwise would be suitable for entrenched positions, and, therefore, makes those that are eligible scarce.

In order to ascertain the eligibility of a position of this description, its advantages and defects, we must ask ourselves what the aggressor can do against it.

 

a. The assailant can pass by this strong position, pursue his enterprise, and watch the position with a greater or less force.

We must here make a distinction between the cases of a position which is occupied by the main body, and one only occupied by an inferior force.

In the first case the passing by the position can only benefit the assailant, if, besides the principal force of the defendant, there is also some other attainable and decisive object of attack, as, for instance, the capture of a fortress or a capital city, etc. But even if there is such an object, he can only follow it if the strength of his base and the direction of his lines of communication are such that he has no cause to fear operations against his strategic flanks.

The conclusions to be drawn from this with respect to the admissibility and eligibility of a strong position for the main body of the defender’s army are, that it is only an advisable position when either the possibility of operating against the strategic flank of the aggressor is so decisive that we may be sure beforehand of being able in that way to keep him at a point where his army can effect nothing, or in a case where there is no object attainable by the aggressor for which the defence need be uneasy. If there is such an object, and the strategic flank of the assailant cannot be seriously menaced, then such position should not be taken up, or if it is it should only be as a feint to see whether the assailant can be imposed upon respecting its value; this is always attended with the danger, in case of failure, of being too late to reach the point which is threatened.

If the strong position is only held by an inferior force, then the aggressor can never be at a loss for a further object of attack, because he has it in the main body itself of the enemy’s army; in this case, therefore, the value of the position is entirely limited to the means which it affords of operating against the enemy’s strategic flank, and depends upon that condition.

 

b. If the assailant does not venture to pass by a position, he can invest it and reduce it by famine. But this supposes two conditions beforehand: first, that the position is not open in rear, and secondly, that the assailant is sufficiently strong to be able to make such an investment. If these two conditions are united then the assailant’s army certainly would be neutralised for a time by this strong position, but at the same time, the defensive pays the price of this advantage by a loss of his defensive force.

From this, therefore, we deduce that the occupation of such a strong position with the main body is a measure only to be taken,—

 

aa. When the rear is perfectly safe (Torres Vedras).

bb. When we foresee that the enemy’s force is not strong enough formally to invest us in our camp. Should the enemy attempt the investment with insufficient means, then we should be able to sally out of the camp and beat him in detail.

cc. When we can count upon relief like the Saxons at Pirna, 1756, and as took place in the main at Prague, because Prague could only be regarded as an entrenched camp in which Prince Charles would not have allowed himself to be shut up if he had not known that the Moravian army could liberate him.

 

One of these three conditions is therefore absolutely necessary to justify the choice of a strong position for the main body of an army; at the same time we must add that the two last are bordering on a great danger for the defensive.

But if it is a question of exposing an inferior corps to the risk of being sacrificed for the benefit of the whole, then these conditions disappear, and the only point to decide is whether by such a sacrifice a greater evil may be avoided. This will seldom happen; at the same time it is certainly not inconceivable. The entrenched camp at Pirna prevented Frederick the Great from attacking Bohemia, as he would have done, in the year 1756. The Austrians were at that time so little prepared, that the loss of that kingdom appears beyond doubt; and perhaps, a greater loss of men would have been connected with it than the 17,000 allied troops who capitulated in the Pirna camp.

 

c. If none of those possibilities specified under a and b are in favour of the aggressor; if, therefore, the conditions which we have there laid down for the defensive are fulfilled, then there remains certainly nothing to be done by the assailant but to fix himself before the position, like a setter before a covey of birds, to spread himself, perhaps, as much as possible by detachments over the country, and contenting himself with these small and indecisive advantages to leave the real decision as to the possession of territory to the future. In this case the position has fulfilled its object.

 

3. Entrenched camps near fortresses.—They belong, as already said, to the class of entrenched positions generally, in so far, as they have for their object to cover not a tract of territory, but an armed force against a hostile attack, and only differ in reality from the other in this, that with the fortress they make up an inseparable whole, by which they naturally acquire much greater strength.

But there follows further from the above the undermentioned special points.

 

a. That they may also have the particular object of rendering the siege of the fortress either impossible or extremely difficult. This object may be worth a great sacrifice of troops if the place is a port which cannot be blockaded, but in any other case we have to take care lest the place is one which may be reduced by hunger so soon that the sacrifice of any considerable number of troops is not justifiable.

b. Entrenched camps can be formed near fortresses for smaller bodies of troops than those in the open field. Four or five thousand men may be invincible under the walls of a fortress, when, on the contrary, in the strongest camp in the world, formed in the open field, they would be lost.

c. They may be used for the assembly and organisation of forces which have still too little solidity to be trusted in contact with the enemy, without the support afforded by the works of the place, as for example, recruits, militia, national levies, etc.

 

They might, therefore, be recommended as a very useful measure, in many ways, if they had not the immense disadvantage of injuring the fortress, more or less, when they cannot be occupied; and to provide the fortress always with a garrison, in some measure sufficient to occupy the camp also, would be much too onerous a condition.

We are, therefore, very much inclined to consider them only advisable for places on a sea coast, and as more injurious than useful in all other cases.

If, in conclusion, we should summarise our opinion in a general view, then strong and entrenched positions are—

 

1. The more requisite the smaller the country, the less the space afforded for a retreat.

2. The less dangerous the more surely we can reckon on succouring or relieving them by other forces, or by the inclemency of season, or by a rising of the nation, or by want, &c.

3. The more efficacious, the weaker the elementary force of the enemy’s attack.

Saturday, 28 November 2020

Good Reading: " A Bela e a Fera – un conto basco" Retold by José Thiesen (in Portuguese)

Era uma vez um rei que tinha tres filhas e que, por algum motivo obscuro, não dava muita atenção à sua  filha mais nova, mesmo sendo ela a mais adorável delas.

Esse rei gostava muito de festas e festivais e ia a quantos podia, sempre trazendo um presente às duas filhas mais velhas, mas nunca para a mais nova.

Até o dia em que ele, pondo-se a caminho pra uma grande festa num reino vizinho, lembrou-se da filha mais nova e disse a ela: eu jamais te trouxe uma prenda, como trago às tuas irmãs; mas desta vez, diz-me tu o que queres que te traga eu e to trarei.

A menina respondeu: mas não quero nada, papai!

- Mesmo assim, quero trazer-te algo. Diz-me o que te agradaria receber de mim!

- Pois que seja como o meu pai deseja. Traz-me uma flor, papai!

E o rei foi para a grande festa em outro reino onde ele riu e divertiu-se de mil modos e comprou um xale para a filha mais velha e um chapéu para a filha do meio mas esqueceu-se da filha mais nova.

Estava a caminho de seu palácio quando lembrou-se da caçulinha e pensou: onde encontrar uma flor para a minha pequenina agora, no meio do nada?

Foi quando viu um grande, belo castelo com um vasto jardim coberto de toda sorte de flores.

O rei sorriu para si mesmo e disse: bem, isso é que é mesmo sorte! Ninguém vai reclamar que de jardim tão grande, eu tire uma flor!

Adentrou no jardim e colheu as mais belas flores que encontrou, mas quando estava para sair, uma voz feia se fez ouvir: quem te deu permissão para roubar-me estas flores? Ouve bem, inconsequente: se em menos de um ano não me entregares uma de tuas filhas, eu te acharei e consumirei no fogo a ti e teu reino!

O rei tremia inteiro e como a voz silenciara tão bruscamente quanto soara, rápido ele pulou para a sela do cavalo e saiu dali em desesperada carreira.

Chegou no seu castelo e foi logo rodeado pelas filhas, a quem deu os devidos presentes, mas sem a alegria costumeira e, com o passar dos dias, seu silêncio e tristeza só fizeram crescer, o que chamou a atenção da filha mais velha, a qual o inquiriu sobre aquela tristeza grave e incomum.

O rei contou-lhe a aventura no jardim e a voz sem corpo e concluiu dizendo: imagina, filha minha, como estou, sabendo que já em menos de um ano devo entregar àquela voz tremenda uma de minhas filhas, ou eu e o reino seremos queimados até os ossos!

- Se o meu pai cometeu a imprudência tanta de invadir terra alheia por uma flor, queimar ‘té os ossos é bem feito. Seja como for, negoceie quem irá para tal voz com as outras duas, que eu por certo não vou entregar-me a um espírito mau!

Outro dia foi a filha do meio, também preocupada com a tristeza em seu pai que lhe perguntou a que vinha aquilo e o rei falou-lhe francamente, finalizando por dizer que não atinava que filha entregar.

A mocinha então lhe respondeu: resolva isso como lhe aprouver, mas nem morta vou entregar-me a uma voz sem corpo. Um corpo sem voz até vai, mas voz sem corpo?

Mais uns dias e veio a filha mais nova: que se passa, meu pai? Por que essa tristeza? Quem te fez mal?

- Pois ouve, minha filha, que a buscar flores para ti, adentrei num jardim onde achei as flores belas que te trouxe. Mas quando ia sair, uma voz vinda não sei de onde disse-me que lhe trouxesse uma das minhas filhas antes do ano findar; se não, a voz virá até nós e queimará a mim e ao reino.

A menina pensou por um segundo e disse ao pai: não te preocupes com isso. Eu vou até a voz.

E para não dar-se a chance de mudar de idéia, logo arrumou uma trouxa de roupa, providenciou um carro e se foi ao castelo.

Em frente a este, ainda hesitou um segundo mas entrou. Dentro, soava linda música sem músico algum presente. Houve jantar e ceia para a moça, mas ela não viu criado algum.

Veio a noute e ela dormiu e nova manhã com farto desjejum, mas ela ainda não viu ninguém.

Ouviu uma voz que lhe disse: fecha teus olhos que desejo repousar minha cabeça sobre os teus joelhos.

Ela respondeu: vem, não tenho medo.

E uma enorme serpente apareceu, rastejando para ela. A pobre menina ficou tão assustada que mal conteve um gritinho de horror. Isso foi o bastante para a serpe recuar para onde veio.

Sumindo nas sombras dum canto, a serpente disse: meu nome é Azor.

- E o meu, Fifine, murmurou ela.

Desde então a menina vivia no castelo habitado por vozes que lhe não deixavam faltar nada: banhos tépidos, a melhor comida, veste reais e muito mais.

Depois de muito tempo ela ouviu novamente a voz, que lhe disse: queres voltar para a casa de teu pai?

- Em verdade, tu me dás tudo e ainda mais do que preciso e nada me falta.

- Mas se quizeres, podes ir rever teu pai por tres dias. Vês o anel sobre a mesa? Veste-o enquanto estiveres fora. Se ele mudar de cor, é porque estou doente; se porém, ele sangrar, é porque estou em grande, grandíssima desgraça.

A menina vestiu o anel e tomou o rumo do castelo do rei, seu pai, o qual ficou cheio de alegria quando a viu.

As irmãs viram o quanto ela estava bela e bem vestida e perguntaram-lhe: com quem vives?

- Vivo com uma enorme serpente, a qual raramente vejo.

Elas não lhe creram.

Os tres dias passaram-se como um sonho breve e a menina esqueceu a serpente. No quarto dia ela olhou o anel e viu que ele estava com uma estranha cor de ferrugem. Pensando que estivesse sujo passou um dedo sobre ele e o anel começou a pingar sangue.

Muito assustada pelo que viu, ela correu ao rei seu pai, explicou-lhe o que se passava, tomou a carruagem e voltou para o castelo da serpente.

Ainda de fora, viu que o castelo estava tomado por sombras. Entrou, correu pelos salões tenebrosos e seu coração gelava em seu peito: as vozes tinham desaparecido!

Gritava: Azor! Azor!, mas tudo eram silêncio e trevas.

Atravessou o patio interno entre pranto e grito, até que chegou a um canto gelado, coberto de neve. Ali encontrou, em mil anéis, a enorme serpente, como morta.

Incontinenti, ela fez um fogo para aquecer o réptil que, aos poucos, recuperou a vida.

- Tu me esqueceste, disse a cobra. Não tivesses feito este fogo, por certo eu teria morrido.

Ainda em prantos, Fifine respondeu: de fato te esqueci, mas o anel me fez lembrar de ti.

- Não haja dor em teu coração nem lágrimas em teus olhos: eu sabia que isso iria acontecer; esta foi a razão de dar-te o anel.

Voltaram para dentro do castelo e as trevas se dissiparam, havia luz e calor, as vozes e a música se faziam ouvir novamente.

Alguns dias depois, Azor disse à moça: precisamos casar.

Fifine nada disse. Ele propôz de novo e de novo, mas ela permanecia em silêncio.

As trevas frias voltavam, lentamente, e as vozes e a música desapareceram em triste silêncio. A menina já não tinha comida pronta para comer, e um estranho inverno circundava o castelo.

Depois de muitos dias, ela disse: isso não pode continuar. Estamos todos a definhar e se não lhe tenho amor, ao menos gratidão eu tenho.

Um dia ouviu Azor: aceitas casar comigo?

Ela respondeu: aceito, mas com o homem, não a cobra!

Imediatamente o frio, as trevas, o silêncio triste desapareceram e voltaram o calor e a vida.

- Pois então, disse ele, casamos depois de amanhã. Por agora, vai à casa do rei teu pai e prepara o necessário para casarmos!

Ela fez como ordenado e pediu a benção e as devidas providências ao seu pai. Ele as deu, mas tanto o pai quanto as irmãs ficaram tomadas de vergonha de verem Fifine casar com um mostro!

Fifine retornou para Azor, contou-lhe o sucesso da empreitada e ele perguntou-lhe: queres uma serpente da casa para a igreja ou da igreja para casa?

- Gostava que fosse serpente de casa para a igreja.

- Também eu prefiro assim.

A riquíssima carruagem de Azor, puxada por quatro cavalos brancos com crinas doiradas esperava por eles. Dentro, a serpente poisou sua cabeça sobre os joelhos da moça e disse: feche as janelas da carruagem para que ninguém me veja.

- Mas todos te verão quando saires da carruagem.

- Faz como digo, meu coração!

Ela obedeceu e tiveram uma viagem tranquila.

Quando chegaram ao castelo do pai de Fifine, toda a corte estava reunida para receberem o tremendo monstro, mas heis que sai da carruagem o mais belo mancebo que já tinham visto.

Foram todos à igreja onde casaram-se os dois. Ao final, o rei ia levá-los a um grande banquete que preparara para as bodas, mas o esposo disse a todos:

- Não podemos ficar para a noite, mas antes, temos que voltar ao meu castelo para realizar u’a muito grande tarefa. Mas voltamos amanhã!

Todos, inclusive Fifine ficaram grandemente surpresos por essa novidade, mas ninguém quiz estragar a festa e aquiesceram todos.

Quando Azor e Fifine chegaram em seu castelo, era tarde da noite. Ele acendeu um fogo e apresentou a ela um grande cesto onde estava a pele da serpente e disse: quando ouvires a primeira badalada da meia-noite, deves queimar completamente a pele da serpente a ao soar da última badalada da meia-noite, deves jogar as cinzas pela janela e deixar que o vento as leve. Se falhares nisso, estarei condenado a ser, para sempre, a monstruosa serpente.

E assim ela fez; com grande diligência pôz a pele no fogo ao soar do primeiro toque e, com dois espetos, virava e revirava a pele para que queimasse toda. Ao décimo soar, a pele estava totalmente reduzida a cinzas e com uma pá e escova, a mulher recolheu as cinzas e jogou-as pela janela.

Isso feito, uma voz semelhante a um trovão, semelhante ao rugido duma fera atroou no salão: eu amaldioçôo tuda esperteza e o que fizeste!

Azor, seu marido, correu para ela entre mil lágrimas e jogou-se aos seus pés, sem parar de beijar-lhe as mãos e agradecer à sua esposa o grande, impagável bem que ela lhe fizera.

Dizia-lhe: agora nada mais temo na vida! Estou livre da maldição que me atormentava! Vamos amanhã à casa de teu pai celebrar nossas bodas!

Foram e tiveram magnífica acolhida onde todos os mistérios foram exclarecidos por Azor.

O rei ofereceu-lhes morada no castelo e o casal aceitou. Com o passar do tempo, Fifine teve dois meninos e duas meninas e, vendo sua boa fortuna, as suas irmãs cresciam em ciúmes e inveja e tanto fizeram que, ao final, o rei mandou-as embora do castelo.

Quando velho, o rei passou sua coroa a Azor que reinou com sabedoria e compaixão. Depois de muito tempo, Azor e Fifine morreram tão feliz morte quanto foram felizes as suas vidas.

Friday, 27 November 2020

Friday's Sung: "Coisas Nossas" (ou "São Coisas Nossas") by Noel Rosa (in Portuguese)

Queria ser pandeiro
Pra sentir o dia inteiro
A tua mão na minha pele a batucar
Saudade do violão e da palhoça
Coisa nossa, coisa nossa

O samba, a prontidão
E outras bossas,
São nossas coisas,
São coisas nossas!

Malandro que não bebe,
Que não come,
Que não abandona o samba
Pois o samba mata a fome,
Morena bem bonita lá da roça,
Coisa nossa, coisa nossa

Baleiro, jornaleiro
Motorneiro, condutor e passageiro,
Prestamista e o vigarista
E o bonde que parece uma carroça,
Coisa nossa, muito nossa

Menina que namora
Na esquina e no portão
Rapaz casado com dez filhos, sem tostão,
Se o pai descobre o truque dá uma coça
Coisa nossa, muito nossa.

 

 You can listen "Coisas Nossas" sung by Noel Rosa here.