African Folktales at Internet Archive: Baskerville's Ugandan Stories

This week I'm going to focus on story collections from eastern Africa, and for today's post I want to look at two important public domain collections because of the role these old public domain books have played in more contemporary children's books, where modern authors are taking stories recorded in the public domain books and retelling them in new ways; that's the power of the public domain: free to remix, reuse, translate, adapt in any way! So, the two public domain books I want to feature today are by Rosetta Baskerville, the wife of George Baskerville, who was a missionary in Uganda.

Most of these public domain books (published before 1926) are either by missionaries or by colonial civil servants; see this blog post for more about the many problems with books produced in a missionary context for white audiences: African Animal Tales in the Public Domain. Short version: despite the racist context, I think there is still enormous value in these collections, and Baskerville's books are, in their own way, better than many others of the time.

The first book Baskerville published was in 1900: The Flame Tree and Other Folklore Stories from Uganda. That book is available at the Internet Archive, and it's not just for borrowing; since this book is in the public domain, that means you can download it from the Internet Archive, and in various different digital formats.

The other book that Baskerville published was in 1922: The King of the Snakes and Other Folklore Stories from Uganda. This book is not available at the Internet Archive, but it is at Hathi Trust, which is another excellent digital library online.

Both books contain a variety of stories: fairy tales, animal stories, and also aetiological stories ("why" stories about natural phenomena). At the bottom of this post, I've included "The Flame Tree" story which is a beautiful aetiological story about why the flame tree has such beautiful red flowers.

Both of Baskerville's books are very much worth reading, and I also want to include here a more recent children's book which is a retelling of "The Story of the Frog" from Baskerville: Wanyana and Matchmaker Frog: A Bagandan Tale retold by Melinda Lilly with illustrations by Charles Reasoner; it's available for checkout at the Internet Archive:

The illustrations really are lovely; here's a two-page spread from the story:

So, I can highly recommend all three of these books as a way to learn about traditional stories from the people of Uganda, and I'll have some more books to share from eastern Africa this week!

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As promised, here is the story of the flame tree as told in Baskerville's book (because it is in the public domain, I can freely reprint the story here, including the illustration by Mrs. E. G. Morris):

The Flame Tree

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in the village of Si. Her parents had no other children, and as she grew older they saw with joy that she was more beautiful every day. People who passed through the village saw her and spoke of her beauty until every one in Kyagwe knew that the most lovely girl in the country lived in the village of Si — and every one in the province called her "the Maiden."

The Maiden was a gentle, sweet child, and she loved all the animals and birds and butterflies and flowers, and played with them and knew their language. Her parents were very proud of her, and often talked of the time when she should be grown up and marry a great chief with many cows and gardens and people, and bring great wealth to her tribe.

When the time came to arrange her marriage, all the Chiefs came and offered many gifts, as the custom of the Baganda is, but the Maiden said, "I will marry none of these rich Chiefs; I will marry Tutu the peasant boy, who has nothing, because I love him."

Her parents were very grieved when they heard this and would have tried to persuade her, but just then a messenger arrived from the Sekibobo to say that the King of Uganda was going to war with Mbubi the chief of the Buvuma Islands, and all the chiefs went away to collect their people for the King's army.

Then the Chief of Si, who is called Kibevu, called all his men together, and Tutu the peasant boy went with them. The army marched down to the lake shore to fight the Islanders who came across the blue waters in a fleet of war canoes, painted and decorated with horns and feathers and cowry shells and beads.

The Maiden was very sad when she said good-bye to Tutu. " Be very brave and win glory," she said, "then my father will let me marry you, for I will never marry any one else."

But when the men had marched away and only the women and children were left in the village with the old people, the Maiden forgot her brave words and only thought how she could bring Tutu safely back. She called to her friend the hawk. "Come and help me, Double-Eye; fly quickly to the lake shore and see my peasant boy — tell him I think of him day and night. I cannot be happy till he returns." The hawk knew Tutu well, for often on the hillside he had played with the children. The Baganda called him "Double-Eye," for they say, that, with one eye he watches the Earth and with the other he sees where he is going.

The Baganda reached the lake, and there was a great battle, and Tutu the peasant boy was killed by a stone from an Islander's sling, but the Baganda rallied, and drove the enemy back to their canoes, and Mbubi beat the retreat drum, and his men returned to Buvuma.

The hawk flies very quickly, and while he was still a long way off he saw Tutu lying where he had fallen on the lake shore. The soldiers were burying the dead, and the hawk watched to see where they would bury the peasant boy of Si, that he might show the maiden his grave.

The Maiden waited on the hillside for the hawk's return and the moments seemed like hours. She called to a bumble bee who was her friend. "Go quickly to the lake side and greet my peasant boy; tell him I wait here on the hillside for his return."

The bumble bee flew away quickly, and when he reached the lake shore he asked the hawk for news. "The Islanders have fled in their canoes, but Tutu the peasant boy is dead; a stone from a sling killed him. I wait to see his grave that I may show it to the Maiden." The bumble bee was afraid to go back with the news, so he stayed near the hawk and watched.

Meanwhile the Maiden waited in a fever of impatience, ever gazing at the distant lake and pacing up and down. She saw a flight of white butterflies playing hide-and-seek round a mimosa bush and called to them. "Oh, white butterflies, how can you play when my heart is breaking? Go to the lake shore and see if my peasant boy is well."

So the white butterflies flew away over the green hills to the lake and arrived on the battlefield just as the soldiers were digging Tutu's grave, and they settled sadly down on a tuft of grass, their wings drooping with sorrow, for they loved the Maiden who had often played with them in the sunshine.

Far away on the Si hills the Maiden watched in vain for their return. Filled with fear she cried to the Sun, "Oh, Chief of the Cloud Land, help me ! take me on one of your beams to the lake shore that I may see my peasant boy and tell him of my love."

The Sun looked down on her with great pity, for he had seen the battle and knew that Tutu the peasant boy was dead. He stretched out one of his long beams and she caught it in her hands, and he swung her gently round until she rested on the lake shore. When she saw the soldiers lifting Tutu's body to lay it in the grave she cried to the Sun, "Oh, Chief of the Cloud Land, do not leave me, burn me with your fire, for how can I live, now that my Love is dead?"

Then the Sun was filled with pity and struck her with a hot flame, and the soldiers were very sorry for her too, and they dug a grave for her next to Tutu's.

And when the people of Si visited the graves the next year they found a wonderful thing, for a beautiful tree had grown out of them with large flame-coloured blossoms which ever turned upwards to the sun, and they took the seeds and planted them in their gardens.

And now the country is full of these beautiful trees which are called Flame Trees, but the old people call them Kifabakazi, because the stem is as soft as a woman's heart and a woman can cut it down.

flame tree flowers

more information:

Wikipedia: Spathodea