Origins and setting
“The Three Golden Hairs of the Devil” is a German wonder tale preserved by the Brothers Grimm (their tale of the Glückskind, or “Lucky Child”). It belongs to a long-travelled European story family in which a fated child survives a jealous ruler, is sent on a perilous errand to the Otherworld, and returns triumphant with both treasure and wisdom. Its episodes—the prophecy at birth, the king’s murderous letter, the helpful grandmother, the riddling questions on the road, and the ferryman’s release—appear across Central and Eastern Europe, but the Grimms’ version is the best known in English.
The tale
There once lived a poor woman who gave birth to a boy with a caul—an old sign of extraordinary fortune. News of this reached the king, who, upon seeing the child, forced a smile and said, “Such luck must be tested.” He gave the mother a small chest and coin, feigning generosity, then told his servants, quietly, to cast the chest—child and all—into the river. But the river, which often serves destiny rather than kings, bore the box gently along until it lodged in the sluice of a mill. The miller and his wife found the boy, took him in, and raised him as their own, calling him simply the Lucky Child.
Years passed. The boy grew straight and bright, and at fourteen he was swift and cheerful in the miller’s work. One day the king came by, seeking shelter from a storm and, seeing the youth, asked the miller who he was. “A foundling we took from the river,” said the miller, and told the tale. The king’s eyes narrowed. “Send the boy to my queen,” he said amiably, “with this letter.” He pressed a sealed message into the lad’s hand and bade him be quick.
The king’s letter read, “See that the bearer of this message be killed at once, and let it be done before I return.” The Lucky Child set off, whistling, but night fell in a wood and robbers found him sleeping. They opened the letter to see whether the boy might be worth ransom, and when they read the king’s cruel command they were angered. “Such spite against a harmless lad!” So they changed the letter to: “See that the bearer of this message be married to our daughter immediately; delay not.” They sealed it again and tucked the boy in a safer place to sleep.
The queen, reading the letter, exclaimed, “Well then!” and, trusting her husband’s hand, had the youth clothed in velvet and married to the princess that very day. The pair were bashful but kindly to one another, and by the time the king returned, they were laughing together in the garden. The king’s face went the colour of sour milk. “How came this to pass?” he thundered. The queen showed the letter. Realising he’d been outwitted, the king swallowed his rage and said silkily, “If you would have my blessing, son, bring me three golden hairs from the Devil’s head.”
The Lucky Child kissed his bride and set out.
The three questions on the road
He travelled until he came to the gate of a great city. The watchman stopped him: “Where away, lad?”
“To the Devil’s house,” he said.
“Then do us a good turn and ask why our fountain, once flowing with wine, now runs dry. We are starving for want of trade.”
“I’ll ask,” said the boy.
Farther on another city loomed, a palace gleaming beyond its walls. The guards hailed him: “Boy, if you go so far as the Devil’s house, ask why our apple-tree, which once bore golden apples, has withered.”
“I’ll ask,” said the boy.
At last he came to a wide, dark river whose current boiled like a cauldron. A ferryman, grey with weariness, stood by his boat. “Where to?” he croaked.
“To the Devil,” the boy replied.
“Then ask how I may be rid of this endless ferrying,” begged the man, and rowed him across.
The Devil’s grandmother
On the far bank rose a bleak country and, in it, a house crouched under storm-worn eaves. An old woman sat there—the Devil’s grandmother. “What do you want, child?” she asked, peering with a kind of pity.
“I seek three golden hairs from the Devil’s head,” he answered plain as truth, “and I have three questions besides.”
“Ha!” She looked him up and down. “Many have wanted a strand of that hair; few have kept their fingers. Still, you are a Lucky Child, I see it. If you trust me, I’ll help.” She turned him at once into an ant and hid him in the pleat of her skirt.
By and by the Devil came home, sniffing the wind. “I smell, I smell—human flesh!” he snarled.
“Only the smoke in your nose,” said the grandmother, spooning him soup. He grumbled and stretched himself on her lap to be combed, for devils, like cats, purr when well scratched.
The old woman tugged—and plucked out a golden hair.
“What are you pulling at?” roared the Devil.
“A dream pricked you,” she soothed. “I dreamt of a city whose wine-fountain ran dry. Why should that be?”
The Devil growled but liked to show he knew the world: “A toad has crept under the stone in the spring’s mouth. Kill the toad; the wine will flow again.”
“Ah,” said the grandmother, tucking the hair away.
She combed on, then gave a sharper tweak.
“Will you stop!” bellowed he.
“Hush—another dream. A king’s garden holds an apple-tree that once bore golden fruit; now it withers. Why?”
“A mouse is gnawing the root,” the Devil snapped. “Find the mouse and kill it; the tree will bloom and bear gold again.”
“Of course,” murmured the grandmother, and combed until she snatched the third golden hair.
The Devil sprang up. “Old woman!”
“Peace,” she said, patting him. “One last dream: a ferryman at a black river begs to know how his service ends.”
“Simple,” snarled the Devil. “The fool must push the oar into another’s hands and leap ashore; then the next man is ferryman.”
The Devil, soothed by soup and strokes, soon slept like a stone. The grandmother let the ant creep forth, restored him to his proper shape, and gave him the three hairs. “Off with you, Lucky Child—by the back door and God speed.”
The homeward road and the king’s greed
At the river the ferryman set him in the boat. “Your answer?”
“When anyone comes to cross,” said the boy, “put the oar into his hands and step out.”
The ferryman sighed with relief and set him ashore.
At the second city the boy told of the mouse at the root; they hunted it out, and when the tree stirred and leafed and shone, the townsfolk were so pleased they loaded the youth with gold.
At the first city he spoke of the toad in the spring; they lifted the stone, killed the creature, and the wine leapt bright from the fountain. Again they heaped him with gold, so that his horses strained under the sacks.
He came to the court with the three golden hairs and the answers. The king could scarcely hide his vexation, yet asked, thin-lipped, “Where did you find such wealth?”
“In two cities grateful for news,” said the youth. “One had a dry fountain; the cure was a toad beneath a stone. The other had a withered golden-apple tree; the cure was a mouse at the root.”
Greed sharpened the king’s thoughts. “I will fetch such treasure myself,” he said, and rode off at once. He came to the first city and, hearing the same question, boasted, “I shall ask the Devil.” At the second he said likewise. When he reached the black river, the ferryman—who had waited for the very next traveller—held out the oar. “Here, your Majesty, kindly take hold.” The king, all impatience and pride, grasped it—and the ferryman stepped lightly to shore.
And so the king began to ferry. If you go by that river today, they say a royal figure stands in a shabby boat, crying out to any passer-by, “Take the oar for a moment!” No one does.
As for the Lucky Child, he lived with his princess in peace. The fountain flowed; the apple-tree shone with gold; and the three golden hairs gleamed in a casket as proof that bold hearts, kind helpers, and a little luck can do what kings cannot.
“What are you pulling at?” the Devil had cried.
“Only a dream,” the grandmother had answered—and in that dream lay the lad’s fortune.
Notes on iconic lines (as often remembered)
- “What are you pulling out of my hair?” — the Devil’s startled protest at each plucked strand.
- “A toad under the stone; kill it and the spring will flow.” — the answer to the first riddle.
- “A mouse at the root; kill it and the tree will bear.” — the answer to the second.
- “Give the oar into the hands of the next man and jump out.” — the ferryman’s release.
- The king’s fatal eagerness: “I shall ask the Devil myself.”
And so ends the wonder tale of the Glückskind and the three golden hairs
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