THE RED SHOES

 1872
FAIRY TALES OF HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
THE RED SHOES
by Hans Christian Andersen
ONCE upon a time there was little girl, pretty and dainty. But
in summer time she was obliged to go barefooted because she was
poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, so that her
little instep grew quite red.
In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker's wife; she
sat down and made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of
some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well,
for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the
day of her mother's funeral. They were certainly not suitable for
mourning; but she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into
them and walked behind the humble coffin.
Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady;
she looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the
clergyman, "Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will
take care of her."
Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes,
but the old lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen
herself was dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read
and to sew, and people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told
her, "You are more than pretty- you are beautiful."
One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country,
and had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the
people, amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle, where the
little princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window and
allowed herself to be stared at. She wore neither a train nor a golden
crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer
than those which the shoemaker's wife had sewn for little Karen. There
is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new
clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker
in the town took the measure of her little foot in his own room, in
which there stood great glass cases full of pretty shoes and white
slippers. It all looked very lovely, but the old lady could not see
very well, and therefore did not get much pleasure out of it.
Amongst the shoes stood a pair of red ones, like those which the
princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the shoemaker said
that they had been made for a count's daughter, but that they had
not fitted her.
"I suppose they are of shiny leather?" asked the old lady. "They
shine so."
"Yes, they do shine," said Karen. They fitted her, and were
bought. But the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she
would never have allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes, as she
was now to be.
Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the
church door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient
figures on the monuments, in their stiff collars and long black robes,
had their eyes fixed on her red shoes. It was only of these that she
thought when the clergyman laid his hand upon her head and spoke of
the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and told her that she
was now to be a grown-up Christian. The organ pealed forth solemnly,
and the sweet children's voices mingled with that of their old leader;
but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the afternoon the old lady
heard from everybody that Karen had worn red shoes. She said that it
was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper, and that
Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if
they were old.
On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at
the black shoes, then at the red ones- looked at the red ones again,
and put them on.
The sun was shining gloriously, so Karen and the old lady went
along the footpath through the corn, where it was rather dusty.
At the church door stood an old crippled soldier leaning on a
crutch; he had a wonderfully long beard, more red than white, and he
bowed down to the ground and asked the old lady whether he might
wipe her shoes. Then Karen put out her little foot too. "Dear me, what
pretty dancing-shoes!" said the soldier. "Sit fast, when you dance,"
said he, addressing the shoes, and slapping the soles with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier some money and then went with
Karen into the church.
And all the people inside looked at Karen's red shoes, and all the
figures gazed at them; when Karen knelt before the altar and put the
golden goblet to her mouth, she thought only of the red shoes. It
seemed to her as though they were swimming about in the goblet, and
she forgot to sing the psalm, forgot to say the "Lord's Prayer."
Now every one came out of church, and the old lady stepped into
her carriage. But just as Karen was lifting up her foot to get in too,
the old soldier said: "Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!" and
Karen could not help it, she was obliged to dance a few steps; and
when she had once begun, her legs continued to dance. It seemed as
if the shoes had got power over them. She danced round the church
corner, for she could not stop; the coachman had to run after her
and seize her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet continued
to dance, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they
took off her shoes, and her legs were at rest.
At home the shoes were put into the cupboard, but Karen could
not help looking at them.
Now the old lady fell ill, and it was said that she would not rise
from her bed again. She had to be nursed and waited upon, and this was
no one's duty more than Karen's. But there was a grand ball in the
town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the red shoes, saying to
herself that there was no sin in doing that; she put the red shoes on,
thinking there was no harm in that either; and then she went to the
ball; and commenced to dance.
But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes danced to the
left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced
down the room, down the stairs through the street, and out through the
gates of the town. She danced, and was obliged to dance, far out
into the dark wood. Suddenly something shone up among the trees, and
she believed it was the moon, for it was a face. But it was the old
soldier with the red beard; he sat there nodding his head and said:
"Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!"
She was frightened, and wanted to throw the red shoes away; but
they stuck fast. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown
fast to her feet. She danced and was obliged to go on dancing over
field and meadow, in rain and sunshine, by night and by day- but by
night it was most horrible.
She danced out into the open churchyard; but the dead there did
not dance. They had something better to do than that. She wanted to
sit down on the pauper's grave where the bitter fern grows; but for
her there was neither peace nor rest. And as she danced past the
open church door she saw an angel there in long white robes, with
wings reaching from his shoulders down to the earth; his face was
stern and grave, and in his hand he held a broad shining sword.
"Dance you shall," said he, "dance in your red shoes till you
are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a
skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and
wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and
fear you! Dance you shall, dance- !"
"Mercy!" cried Karen. But she did not hear what the angel
answered, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the
fields, along highways and byways, and unceasingly she had to dance.
One morning she danced past a door that she knew well; they were
singing a psalm inside, and a coffin was being carried out covered
with flowers. Then she knew that she was forsaken by every one and
damned by the angel of God.
She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark
night. The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all
torn and bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little
house. Here, she knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with
her finger at the window and said:
"Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance."
And the executioner said: "I don't suppose you know who I am. I
strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is
tingling to do so."
"Don't cut off my head!" said Karen, "for then I could not
repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes."
And then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner struck off
her feet with the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little
feet across the field into the deep forest.
And he carved her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches, and
taught her a psalm which is always sung by sinners; she kissed the
hand that guided the axe, and went away over the heath.
"Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes," she said; "I will
go to church, so that people can see me." And she went quickly up to
the church-door; but when she came there, the red shoes were dancing
before her, and she was frightened, and turned back.
During the whole week she was sad and wept many bitter tears,
but when Sunday came again she said: "Now I have suffered and
striven enough. I believe I am quite as good as many of those who
sit in church and give themselves airs." And so she went boldly on;
but she had not got farther than the churchyard gate when she saw
the red shoes dancing along before her. Then she became terrified, and
turned back and repented right heartily of her sin.
She went to the parsonage, and begged that she might be taken into
service there. She would be industrious, she said, and do everything
that she could; she did not mind about the wages as long as she had
a roof over her, and was with good people. The pastor's wife had
pity on her, and took her into service. And she was industrious and
thoughtful. She sat quiet and listened when the pastor read aloud from
the Bible in the evening. All the children liked her very much, but
when they spoke about dress and grandeur and beauty she would shake
her head.
On the following Sunday they all went to church, and she was asked
whether she wished to go too; but, with tears in her eyes, she
looked sadly at her crutches. And then the others went to hear God's
Word, but she went alone into her little room; this was only large
enough to hold the bed and a chair. Here she sat down with her
hymn-book, and as she was reading it with a pious mind, the wind
carried the notes of the organ over to her from the church, and in
tears she lifted up her face and said: "O God! help me!"
Then the sun shone so brightly, and right before her stood an
angel of God in white robes; it was the same one whom she had seen
that night at the church-door. He no longer carried the sharp sword,
but a beautiful green branch, full of roses; with this he touched
the ceiling, which rose up very high, and where he had touched it
there shone a golden star. He touched the walls, which opened wide
apart, and she saw the organ which was pealing forth; she saw the
pictures of the old pastors and their wives, and the congregation
sitting in the polished chairs and singing from their hymn-books.
The church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow room, or the
room had gone to the church. She sat in the pew with the rest of the
pastor's household, and when they had finished the hymn and looked up,
they nodded and said, "It was right of you to come, Karen."
"It was mercy," said she.
The organ played and the children's voices in the choir sounded
soft and lovely. The bright warm sunshine streamed through the
window into the pew where Karen sat, and her heart became so filled
with it, so filled with peace and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on
the sunbeams to Heaven, and no one was there who asked after the Red
Shoes.
THE END
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