Ther bygde folk i the bärg,
Quinnor och män, för mycken duerf.
                        HIST. ALEX. MAG. Suedice 

Within the hills folk did won,
Women and men, dwarfs many a one.

   The more usual appellation of the Dwarfs is Troll or Trold1, a word originally significant of any evil spirit2, giant monster, magician3, or evil person; but now in a good measure divested of its ill senses, for the Trolls are not in general regarded as noxious or malignant beings.
   The Trolls are represented as dwelling inside of hills, mounds, and hillocks - whence they are also called Hillpeople (Bjergfolk) - sometimes in single families, sometimes in societies. In the ballads they are described as having kings over them, but never so in the popular legend. Their character seems gradually to have sunk down to the level of the peasantry, in proportion as the belief in them was consigned to the same class. They are regarded as extremely rich for when, on great occasions of festivity, they have their hills raised up on red pillars, people that have chanced to be passing by have seen them shoving large chests full of money to and fro, and opening and clapping down the lids of them. Their hill-dwellings are very magnificent inside. "They live," said one of Mr. Arndt's guides, "in fine houses of gold and crystal. My father saw them once in the night, when the hill was open on St. John's night. They were dancing and drinking, and it seemed to him as if they were making signs to him to go to them, but his horse snorted, and carried him away, whether he would or no. There is a great number of them in the Guldberg (Goldhill), and they have brought into it all the gold and silver that people buried in the great Russian war."4
   They are obliging and neighbourly; freely lending and borrowing, and elsewise keeping up a friendly intercourse with mankind. But they have a sad propensity to thieving, not only stealing provisions, but even women and children.
   They marry, have children, bake and brew, just as the peasant himself does. A farmer one day met a hill-man and his wife, and a whole squad of stumpy little children, in his fields;5 and people used often to see the children of the man who lived in the hill of Kund, in Jutland, climbing up the hill, and rolling down after one another, with shouts of laughter.
   The Trolls have a great dislike to noise, probably from a recollection of the time when Thor used to be flinging his hammer after them; so that the hanging of bells in the churches has driven them almost all out of the country. The people of Ebeltoft were once sadly plagued by them, as they plundered their pantries in a most unconscionable manner; so they consulted a very wise and pious man; and his advice was, that they should hang a bell in the steeple of the church. They did so, and they were soon eased of the Trolls.6
   These beings have some very extraordinary and useful properties; they can, for instance, go about invisibly7, or turn themselves into any shape; they can foresee future events; they can confer prosperity, or the contrary, on a family; they can bestow bodily strength on any one; and, in short, perform numerous feats beyond the power of man.
   Of personal beauty they have not much to boast: the Ebeltoft Dwarfs, mentioned above, were often seen, and they had immoderate humps on their backs, and long crooked noses. They were dressed in gray jackets,8 and they wore pointed red caps. Old people in Zealand say, that when the Trolls were in the country, they used to go from their hill to the village of Gudmandstrup through the Stone-meadow, and that people, when passing that way, used to meet great tall men in long black clothes. Some have foolishly spoken to them, and wished them good evening, but they never got any other answer than that the Trolls hurried past them, saying, Mi! mi! mi! mi!
   Thanks to the industry of Mr. Thiele, who has been indefatigable in collecting the traditions of his native country, we are furnished with ample accounts of the Trolls; and the following legends will fully illustrate what we have written concerning them.9
   We commence with the Swedish ballads of the Hillkings, as in dignity and antiquity they take precedence of the legends.

Sir Thynnè

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He was a knight so grave;
Whether he were on foot or on horse,
He was a knight so brave.10

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè
Went the hart and the hind to shoot,
So he saw Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
At the green linden's foot.

And it was Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
Unto her handmaid she cried,
"Go fetch my gold harp hither to me,
Sir Thynnè I'll draw to my side."

The first stroke on her gold harp she struck,
So sweetly she made it ring,
The wild beasts in the wood and field
They forgot whither they would spring.

The next stroke on her gold harp she struck,
So sweetly she made it ring,
The little gray hawk that sat on the bough,
He spread out both his wings.

The third stroke on her gold harp she struck,
So sweetly she made it ring,
The little fish that went in the stream,
He forgot whither he would swim.

Then flowered the mead, then leafed all,
'Twas caused by the runic lay;11
Sir Thynnè he struck his spurs in his horse,
He no longer could hold him away.

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
From his horse he springs hastily,
So goeth he to Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
All under the green linden tree.

"Here you sit, my maiden fair,
A rose all lilies above;
See you can never a mortal man
Who will not seek your love."

"Be silent, be silent, now Sir Thynnè,
With your proffers of love, I pray;
For I am betrothed unto a hill-king,
A king all the Dwarfs obey.

"My true love he sitteth the hill within,
And at gold tables plays merrily;
My father he setteth his champions in ring,
And in iron arrayeth them he.

"My mother she sitteth the hill within,
And gold in the chest doth lay;
And I stole out for a little while,
Upon my gold harp to play."

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He patted her cheek rosie:
"Why wilt thou not give a kinder reply
Thou dearest of maidens, to me?"

"I can give you no kinder reply;
I may not myself that allow;
I am betrothed to a hill-king,
And to him I must keep my vow."

And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She at the hill-door looked out,
And there she saw how the knight Sir Thynnè,
Lay at the green linden's foot.

And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She was vest and angry, God wot:
"What hast thou here in the grove to do?
Little business, I trove, thou hast got.

"'Twere better for thee in the hill to be,
And gold in the chest to lay,
Than here to sit in the rosy grove, 12
And on thy gold harp to play.

"And 'twere better for thee in the hill to be,
And thy bride-dress finish sewing,
Than sit under the lind, and with runic lay
A Christian man's heart to thee win."

And it was Ulva, the little Dwarfs daughter,
She goeth in at the hill-door
And after her goeth the knight Sir Thynnè,
Clothed in scarlet and fur.

And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
Forth a red-gold chair she drew
Then she cast Sir Thynnè into a sleep
Until that the cock he crew.

And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
The five rune-books she took out;
So she loosed him fully out of the runes,
Her daughter had bound him about.

"And hear thou me, sir Thynnè,
From the runes thou now art free;
This to thee I will soothly say,
My daughter shall never win thee.

"And I was born of Christian kind,
And to the hill stolen in;
My sister dwelleth in Iseland,13
And wears a gold crown so fine.

"And there she wears her crown of gold,
And beareth of queen the name;
Her daughter was stolen away from her,
Thereof there goeth great fame.

Her daughter was stolen away from her,
And to Berner-land brought in;
And there now dwelleth the maiden free,
She is called Lady Hermolin.

"And never can she into the dance go,
But seven women follow her;
And never can she on the gold-harp play,
If the queen herself is not there.

"The king he hath a sister's son,
He hopeth the crown to possess,
For him they intend the maiden free,
For her little happiness.

"And this for my honour will I do;
And out of good-will moreover,
To thee will I give the maiden free,
And part her from that lover."

Then she gave unto him a dress so new,
With gold and pearls bedight
Every seam on the dress it was
With precious stones all bright.

Then she gave unto him a horse so good,
And therewith a new sell;
"And never shalt thou the way inquire,
Thy horse will find it well."

And it was Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
She would show her good-will to the knight;
So she gave unto him a spear so new,
And therewith a good sword so bright.

"And never shalt thou fight a fight,
Where thou shalt not the victory gain;
And never shalt thou sail on a sea
Where thou shalt not the land attain."

And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife,
She wine in a glass for him poured:
"Ride away, ride away, now Sir Thynnè,
Before the return of my lord."

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He rideth under the green hill side,
There then met him the hill-kings two,
As slow to the hill they ride.

"Well met! Good day, now Sir Thynnè!
Thy horse can well with thee pace;
Whither directed is thy course?
Since thou'rt bound to a distant place."

"Travel shall I and woo;
Plight me shall I a flower;
Try shall I my sword so good,
To my weal or my woe in the stour."

"Ride in peace, ride in peace, away, Sir Thynnè,
From us thou hast nought to fear;
They are coming, the champions from Iseland,
Who with thee long to break a spear."

And it was the knight Sir Thynnè,
He rideth under the green hill side;
There met him seven Bernisk champions,
They bid him to halt and abide.

"And whether shall we fight to-day,
For the red gold and the silver;
Or shall we fight together to-day,
For both our true loves fair?"

And it was the king's sister's son,
He was of mood so hasty;
"Of silver and gold I have enow,
If thou wilt credit me."

"But hast thou not a fair true love,
Who is called Lady Hermolin?
For her it is we shall fight to-day,
If she shall be mine or thine."

The first charge they together rode,
They were two champions so tall;
He cut at the king's sister's son,
That his head to the ground did fall.

Back then rode the champions six,
And dressed themselves in fur;
Then went into the lofty hall,
The aged king before.

And it was then the aged king,
He tore his gray hairs in woe.
"Ye must avenge my sister's son's death
I will sables and martins bestow."14

Back then rode the champions six,
They thought the reward to gain,
But they remained halt and limbless
By loss one doth wit obtain.

And he slew wolves and bears,
All before the high chamber;
Then taketh he out the maiden free
Who so long had languished there.

And now hath Lady Hermolin
Escaped from all harm;
Now sleeps she sweet full many a sleep,
On brave Sir Thynnè's arm.

And now has brave Sir Thynnè
Escaped all sorrow and tine;
Now sleeps he sweet full many a sleep,
Beside Lady Hermolin.

Most thanketh he Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter,
Who him with the runes had bound,
For were he not come inside of the hill,
The lady he never had found.15

Proud Margaret

Proud Margaret's16 father of wealth had store,
Time with me goes slow.-
And he was a king seven kingdoms o'er,
But that grief is heavy I know."17

To her came wooing good earls two,
Time with me goes slow.-
But neither of them would she hearken unto,
But that grief is heavy I know.

To her came wooing princes five,
Time with me goes slow.-
Yet not one of them would the maiden have,
But that grief is heavy I know.

To her came wooing kings then seven,
Time with me goes slow.-
But unto none her hand has she given,
But that grief is heavy I know.

And the hill-king asked his mother to read,
Time with me goes slow.-
How to win proud Margaret he might speed,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And say how much thou wilt give unto me,"
Time with me goes slow. -
"That herself may into the hill come to thee?"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"Thee will I give the ruddiest gold,"
Time with me goes slow. -
"And thy chests full of money as they can hold,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

One Sunday morning it fell out so,
Time with me goes slow.-
Proud Margaret unto the church should go,
But that grief is heavy I know.

And all as she goes, and all as she stays,
Time with me goes slow.-
All the nearer she comes where the high hill lay,
But that grief is heavy I know.

So she goeth around the hill compassing,
Time with me goes slow.-
So there openeth a door, and thereat goes she in,
But that grief is heavy I know.

Proud Margaret stept in at the door of the hill,
Time with me goes slow.-
And the hill-king salutes her with eyes joyful,
But that grief is heavy I know.

So he took the maiden upon his knee,
Time with me goes slow. -
And took the gold rings and therewith her wed he,
But that grief is heavy I know.

So he took the maiden his arms between,
Time with me goes slow.-
He gave her a gold crown and the name of queen,
But that grief is heavy I know.

So she was in the hill for eight round years,
Time with me goes slow.-
There bare she two sons and a daughter so fair,
But that grief is heavy I know.

When she had been full eight years there,
Time with me goes slow.-
She wished to go home to her mother so dear,
But that grief is heavy I know.

And the hill-king spake to his footpages twain,
Time with me goes slow. -
"Put ye the gray pacers now unto the wain,"18
But that grief is heavy I know.

And Margaret out at the hill-door stept,
Time with me goes slow.-
And her little children they thereat wept,
But that grief is heavy I know.

And the hill-king her in his arms has ta'en,
Time with me goes slow.-
So he lifteth her into the gilded wain,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And hear now thou footpage what I unto thee say,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Thou now shalt drive her to her mother's straightway,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

Proud Margaret stept in o'er the door-sill,
Time with me goes slow,-
And her mother saluteth her with eyes joyful,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And where halt thou so long stayed?"
Time with me goes slow.-
"I have been in the flowery meads,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"What veil is that thou wearest on thy hair?"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Such as women and mothers use to wear,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"Well may I wear a veil on my head,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Me hath the hill-king both wooed and wed,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"In the hill have I been these eight round years,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"There have I two sons and a daughter so fair,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"There have I two sons and a daughter so fair,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"The loveliest maiden the world doth bear,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And hear thou, proud Margaret, what I say unto thee,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Can I go with thee home thy children to see?"
But that grief is heavy I know.

And the hill-king stept now in at the door,
Time with me goes slow.-
And Margaret thereat fell down on the floor,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And stayest thou now here complaining of me,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Camest thou not of thyself into the hill to me?"
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And stayest thou now here and thy fate dost deplore?"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Camest thou not of thyself in at my door?"
But that grief is heavy I know.

The hill-king struck her on the cheek rosie,
Time with me goes slow.-
"And pack to the hill to thy children wee,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

The hill-king struck her with a twisted root,
Time with me goes slow.-
"And pack to the hill without any dispute,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

And the hill-king her in his arms has ta'en,
Time with me goes slow.-
And lifted her into the gilded wain,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"And hear thou my footpage what I unto thee say,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Thou now shalt drive her to my dwelling straightway,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

Proud Margaret stept in at the hill door, Time with me goes slow.-
And her little children rejoiced therefore,
But that grief is heavy I know.

"It is not worth while rejoicing for me,"
Time with me goes slow.-
"Christ grant that I never a mother had been,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

The one brought out a gilded chair,
Time with me goes slow. -
"0 rest you, my sorrow-bound mother, there,"
But that grief is heavy I know.

The one brought out a filled up horn,
Time with me goes slow.-
The other put therein a gilded corn,
But that grief is heavy I know.

The first drink she drank out of the horn,
Time with me goes slow.-
She forgot straightway both heaven and earth,
But that grief is heavy I know.

The second drink she drank out of the horn,
Time with me goes slow.-
She forgot straightway both God and his word,
But that grief is heavy I know.

The third drink she drank out of the horn,
Time with me goes slow.-
She forgot straightway, both sister and brother,
But that grief is heavy I know.

She forgot straightway both sister and brother,
Time with me goes slow.-
But she never forgot her sorrow-bound mother,
But that grief is heavy I know.19

The Troll Wife

   The grandfather of Reor, who dwelt at Fuglekärr (i.e. Bird-marsh), in the parish of Svartsborg (Black-castle), lived close to a hill, and one time, in the broad daylight, he saw sitting there on a stone a comely maiden. He wished to intercept her, and for this purpose he threw steel between her and the hill; whereupon her father laughed within the hill, and opening the hill-door asked him if he would have his daughter. He replied in the affirmative and as she was stark naked he took some of his own clothes and covered her with them, and he afterwards had her christened. As he was going away, her father said to him, "When you are going to have your wedding (bröllup) you must provide twelve barrels of beer and bake a heap of bread and the flesh of four oxen, and drive to the barrow or hill where I keep, and when the bridal gifts are to be bestowed, depend on it I will give mine." This also came to pass; for when others were giving he raised the cover of the cart and cast into it so large a bag of money that the body of it nearly broke, saying at the same time:- "This is my gift!" He said, moreover, "When you want to have your wife's portion (hemmagifta)20, you must drive to the hill with four horses, and get your share. When he came there afterwards at his desire he got copper-pots, the one larger than the other till the largest pot of all was filled with the smaller ones. He also gave him other things21 which were helmets, of that colour and fashion which are large and thick, and which are still remaining in the country, being preserved at the parsonage of Tanum. This man Reor's father surnamed I Foglekärsten, had a number of children by this wife of his, whom he fetched out of the hill, among whom was the afore said Reor. Olaf Stenson also in Stora Rijk, who died last year, was Reor's sister's son.22

The Altar-Cup in Aagerup

   Between the villages of Marup and Aagerup in Zealand, there is said to have lain a great castle, the ruins of which are still to be seen near the strand. Tradition relates that a great treasure is concealed among them, and that a dragon there watches over three kings' ransoms.23 Here, too, people frequently happen to get a sight of the underground folk, especially about festival-times, for then they have dancing and great jollity going on down on the strand.
   One Christmas-eve, a farmer's servant in the village of Aagerup went to his master and asked him if he might take a horse and ride down to look at the Troll-meeting. The farmer not only gave him leave but desired him to take the best horse in the stable; so he mounted and rode away down to the strand. When he was come to the place he stopped his horse, and stood for some time looking at the company who were assembled in great numbers. And while he was wondering to see how well and how gaily the little dwarfs danced, up came a Troll to him, and invited him to dismount, and take a share in their dancing and merriment. Another Troll came jumping up, took his horse by the bridle, and held him while the man got off, and went down and danced away merrily with them the whole night long.
   When it was drawing near day he returned them his very best thanks for his entertainment, and mounted his horse to return home to Aagerup. They now gave him an invitation to come again on New-year's night, as they were then to have great festivity; and a maiden who held a gold cup in her hand invited him to drink the stirrup-cup. He took the cup; but, as he had some suspicion of them, he, while he made as if he was raising the cup to his mouth, threw the drink out over his shoulder, so that it fell on the horse's back, and it immediately singed off all the hair. He then clapped spurs to his horse's sides, and rode away with the cup in his hand over a ploughed field.
   The Trolls instantly gave chase all in a body; but being hard set to get over the deep furrows, they shouted out, without ceasing,

"Ride on the lay,
And not on the clay."24
   He, however, never minded them, but kept to the ploughed field. However, when he drew near the village he was forced to ride out on the level road, and the Trolls now gained on him every minute. In his distress he prayed unto God, and he made a vow that if he should be delivered he would bestow the cup on the church.
   He was now riding along just by the wall of the churchyard, and he hastily flung the cup over it, that it at least might be secure. He then pushed on at full speed, and at last got into the village; and just as they were on the point of catching hold of the horse, he sprung in through the farmer's gate, and the man clapt to the wicket after him. He was now safe; but the Trolls were so enraged, that, taking up a huge great stone, they flung it with such force against the gate, that it knocked four planks out of it.
   There are no traces now remaining of that house, but the atone is still lying in the middle of the village of Aagerup. The cup was presented to the church, and the man got in return the best farm-house on the lands of Eriksholm.25

Origin of Tiis Lake

   A Troll had once taken up his abode near the village of Kund, in the high bank on which the church now stands; but when the people about there had become pious, and went constantly to church, the Troll was dreadfully annoyed their almost incessant ringing of bells in the steeple of church. He was at last obliged, in consequence of it, to take his departure; for nothing has more contributed to the emigration of the Troll-folk out of the country than the increasing piety of the people, and their taking to bell-ringing. The Troll of Kund accordingly quitted the country, an went over to Funen, where he lived for some time in peace and quiet.
   Now it chanced that a man who had lately settled in the town of Kund, coming to Funen on business, met on the road with this same Troll; "Where do you live?" said the Troll to him. Now there was nothing whatever about the Troll unlike a man, so he answered him, as was the truth, "I am from the town of Kund." "So?" said the Troll. "I don't know you, then! And yet I think I know every man in Kund. Will you, however," continued he, "just be so kind to take a letter from me back with you to Kund?" The man said, of course, he had no objection. The Troll then thrust the letter into his pocket, and charged him strictly not to take it out till he came to Kund church, and then to throw it over the churchyard wall, and the person for whom it was intended would get it.
   The Troll then went away in great haste, and with him the letter went entirely out of the man's mind. But when he was come back to Zealand he sat down by the meadow where Tiis Lake now is, and suddenly recollected the Troll's letter. He felt a great desire to look at it at least. So he took it out of his pocket, and sat a while with it in his hands, when suddenly there began to dribble a little water out of the seal. The letter now unfolded itself, and the water came out faster and faster, and it was with the utmost difficulty that the poor man was enabled to save his life; for the malicious Troll had enclosed an entire lake in the letter. The Troll, it is plain, had thought to avenge himself on Kund church by destroying it in this manner; but God ordered it so that the lake chanced to run out in the great meadow where it now flows. 26

A Farmer Tricks a Troll

   A farmer, on whose ground there was a little hill, resolved not to let it lie idle, so he began at one end to plough it up. The hill-man, who lived in it, came to him and asked him how he dared to plough on the roof of his house. The farmer assured him that he did not know that it was the roof of his house, but at the same time represented to him that it was at present equally unprofitable to them both to let such a piece of land lie idle. He therefore took the opportunity of proposing to him that he should plough, sow, and reap it every year on these terms: that they should take it year and year about, and the hill-man to have one year what grew over the ground, and the farmer what grew in the ground; and the neat year the farmer to have what was over, and the hill-man what was under.
   The agreement was made accordingly; but the crafty farmer took care to sow carrots and corn year and year about, and he gave the hill-man the tops of the carrots and the roots of the corn for his share, with which he was well content. They thus lived for a long time on extremely good terms with each other.27

Skotte in the Fire

   Near Gudmanstrup, in the district of Odd, is a hill called Hjulehöi (Hollow-hill). The hill-folk that dwell in this mount are well known in all the villages round, and no one ever omits making a cross on his beer-barrels, for the Trolls are in the habit of slipping down from Hjulehöi to steal beer.
   One evening late a farmer was passing by the hill, and he saw that it was raised up on red pillars, and that underneath there was music and dancing and a splendid Troll banquet. The man stood a long time gazing on their festivity; but while he was standing there, deeply absorbed in admiration of what he saw, all of a sudden the dancing stopped, and the music ceased, and he heard a Troll cry out, in a tone of the utmost anguish, "Skotte is fallen into the fire! Come and help him up!" The hill then sank, and all the merriment was at an end.
   Meanwhile the farmer's wife was at home all alone, and while she was sitting and spinning her tow, she never noticed a Troll who had crept through the window into the next room, and was at the beer-barrel drawing off the liquor into his copper kettle. The room-door was standing open, and the Troll kept a steady eye on the woman. The husband now came into the house full of wonder at what he had seen and heard. "Hark ye, dame," he began, "listen now till I tell you what has happened to me!" The Troll redoubled his attention. "As I came just now by Hjulehöi;" continued he, "I saw a great Troll-banquet there, but while they were in the very middle of their glee they shouted out within in the hill, 'Skotte is fallen into the fire; come and help him up!'"
   At hearing this, the Troll, who was standing beside the beer-barrel, was so frightened, that he let the tap run and the kettle of beer fall on the ground, and tumbled himself out of the window as quickly as might be. The people of the house hearing all this noise instantly guessed what had been going on inside; and when they went in they saw the beer all running about, and found the copper kettle lying on the floor. This they seized, and kept in lieu of the beer that had been spitted; and the same kettle is said to have been a long time to be seen in the villages round about there.28

The Legend of Bodedys

   There is a hill called Bodedys close to the road in the neighbourhood of Lynge, that is near Soröe. Not far from it lived an old farmer, whose only son was used to take long journeys on business: His father had for a long time heard no tidings of him, and the old man became convinced that his son was dead. This caused him much affliction, as was natural for an old man like him, and thus some time passed over.
   One evening as he was coming with a loaded cart by Bodedys, the bill opened, and the Troll came out and desired him to drive his cart into it. The poor man was, to be sure, greatly amazed at this, but well knowing how little it would avail him to refuse to comply with the Troll's request, he turned about his horses, and drove his cart straight into the hill. The Troll now began to deal with him for his goods, and finally bought and paid him honestly for his entire cargo. When he had finished the unloading of his vehicle, and was about to drive again out of the hill, the Troll said to him, "If you will now only keep a silent tongue in your head about all that has happened to you, I shall from this time out have an eye to your interest; and if you come here again to-morrow morning, it may be you shall get your son." The farmer did not well know at first what to say to all this; but as he was, however, of opinion that the Troll was able to perform what he had promised, he was greatly rejoiced, and failed not to come at the appointed time to Bodedys.
   He sat there waiting a long time, and at last he fell asleep, and when he awoke from his slumber, behold! there was his son lying by his side. Both father and son found it difficult to explain how this had come to pass. The son related how he had been thrown into prison, and had there suffered great hardship and distress; but that one night, while he was lying asleep in his cell, there came a man to him, who said, "Do you still love your father?" And when, he had answered that he surely did, his chains fell off and the wall barst open. While he was telling this he chanced to put his hand up to his neck, and he found that he had brought a piece of the iron chain away with him. They both were for some time mute through-excess of wonder; and they then arose and went straightway to Lynge, where they hung up the piece of the chain in the church, as a memorial of the wonderful event that had occurred.29

Kallundborg Church

   When Esbern Snare was about building a church in Kallundborg, he saw clearly that his means were not fully adequate to the task. But a Troll came to him and offered his services; and Esbern Snare made an agreement with him on these conditions, that he should be able to tell the Troll's name when the church was finished; or in case he could not, that he should give him his heart and his eyes.
   The work now went on rapidly, and the Troll set the church on stone pillars; but when all was nearly done, and there was only half a pillar wanting in the church, Esbern began to get frightened, for the name of the Troll was yet unknown to him.
   One day he was going about the fields all alone, and in great anxiety on account of the perilous state he was in; when, tired, and depressed, by reason of his exceeding grief and affliction, he laid him down on Ulshöi bank to rest himself a while. While he was lying there, he heard a Trollwoman within the hill saying these words

"Lie still, baby mine!
Tomorrow cometh Fin,
Father thine,
And giveth thee Esbern Snare's eyes and heart to play with."30
   When Esbern heard this, he recovered his spirits, and went back to the church. The Troll was just then coming with the half-pillar that was wanting for the church; but when Esbern saw him, he hailed him by his name, and called him "Fin." The Troll was so enraged at this, that he went off with the half-pillar through the air, and this is the reason that the church has but three pillars and a half.31

   The same is told of a far greater than Esbern Snare. As St. Olaf, the royal apostle of the North, was one day going over hill and dale, thinking how he could contrive to build a splendid church without distressing his people by taxation, he was met by a man of a strange appearance, who asking him what he was thinking about, Olaf told him, and the Troll, or rather Giant (Jätte), for such he was, undertook to do it within a certain time, stipulating, for his reward, the sun and moon, or else St. Olaf himself. Olaf agreed, but gave such a plan for the church as it seemed to be impossible ever could be executed. It was to be so large that seven priests could preach in it at the same time without disturbing each other; the columns and other ornaments both within and without should be of hard flintstone, and so forth. It soon, however, was finished, all but the roof and pinnacle. Olaf, now grown uneasy, rambled once more over hill and dale, when he chanced to hear a child crying within a hill, and a giantess, its mother, saying to it, "Hush, hush! Thy father, Wind-and-Weather, will come home in the morning, and bring with him the sun and moon, or else St. Olaf himself." Olaf was overjoyed, for the power of evil beings ceases when their name is known. He returned home, where he saw every thing completed-pinnacle and all. He immediately cried out, "Wind-and- Weather, you've set the pinnacle crooked!32 Instantly the Giant fell vita a great crash from the ridge of the roof, and broke into a thousand pieces, which were all flintstone. 33

The Hill-Man Invited to the Christening

   The hill-people are excessively frightened during thunder. When, therefore, they see bad weather coming on, they lose no time in getting to the shelter of their hills. This terror is also the cause of their not being able to endure the beating of a drum, as they take it to be the rolling of thunder. It is therefore a good receipt for banishing them to beat a drum every day in the neighbourhood of their hills; for they immediately pack up and depart to some more quiet residence.
   A farmer lived once in great friendship and unanimity with a hill-man, whose hill was on his lands. One time when his wife was lying-in, it gave him some degree of perplexity to think that he could not well avoid inviting the hill-man to the christening, which might not improbably bring him into bad repute with the priest and the other people of the village. He was going about pondering deeply, but in vain, how he might get out of this dilemma, when it came into his head to ask the advice of the boy that kept his pigs, who was a great head-piece, and had often helped him before. The pig-boy instantly undertook to arrange the matter with the hill-man in such a manner that he should not only stay away without being offended, but moreover give a good christening present.
   Accordingly, when it was night he took a sack on his shoulder, went to the hill-man's hill, knocked, and was admitted. He delivered his message, giving his master's compliments, and requesting the honour of his company at the christening. The hill-man thanked him, and said, "I think it is but right that I should give you a christening gift." With these words he opened his money-chests, bidding the boy to hold up his sack while he poured money into it. "Is there enough now?" said he, when he had put a good quantity into it. "Many give more, few give less," replied the boy.
   The hill-man then fell again to filling the sack, and again asked, "Is there enough now?" The boy lifted up the sack a little of the ground to try if he was able to carry, any more, and then answered, "It is about what most people give." Upon this the hill-man emptied the whole chest into the bag, and once more asked, "Is there enough now?" The guardian of the pigs saw that there was as much in it now as ever he was able to carry, so he made answer, "No one gives more, most people give less." "Come, now," said the hill-man, "let us hear who else is to be at the christening?" "Ah," said the boy, "we are to have a great parcel of strangers and great people. First and foremost, we are to have three priests and a bishop!" "Hem!" muttered the hill-man; "however, these gentlemen usually look only after the eating and drinking: they will never take any notice of me. Well, who else?" "Then we have asked St. Peter and St. Paul." "Hem! hem! however, there will be a by-place for me behind the stove. Well, and then?" "Then our Lady herself is coming!" "Hem! hem! hem! however, guests of such high rank come late and go away early. But tell me, my lad, what sort of music is it you are to have?" "Music!" said the boy, "why, we are to have drums." "Drums! " repeated he, quite terrified; "no, no, thank you, I shall stay at home in that case. Give my best respects to your master, and I thank him for the invitation, but I cannot come. I did but once go out to take a little walk, and some people beginning to beat a drum, I hurried home, and was just got to my door when they flung the drum-stick after me and broke one of my shins. I have been lame of that leg ever since, and I shall take good care in future to avoid that sort of music." So saying, he helped the boy to put the sack on his back, once more charging him to give his best respects to the farmer. 34

The Troll Turned Cat

   About a quarter of a mile from Soröe lies Pedersborg, and a little farther on is the town of Lyng. Just between these towns is a hill called Bröndhöi (Spring-hill), said to be inhabited by the Troll-people.
   There goes a story that there was once among these Troll people of Bröndhöi an old cross-grained curmudgeon of a Troll, whom the rest nick-named Knurremurre (Rumble-grumble), because he was evermore the cause of noise and uproar within the hill. This Knurremurre having discovered what he thought to be too great a degree of intimacy between his young wife and a young Troll of the society, took this in such ill part, that he vowed vengeance, swearing he would have the life of the young one. The latter, accordingly, thought it would be his best course to be off out of the hill till better times; so, turning himself into a noble tortoise shell tom-cat, he one fine morning quitted his old residence, and journeyed down to the neighbouring town of Lyng, where he established himself in the house of an honest poor man named Plat.
   Here he lived for a long time comfortable and easy, with nothing to annoy him, and was as happy as any tom-cat or Troll crossed in love well could be. He got every day plenty of milk and good groute35 to eat, and lay the whole day long at his ease in a warm arm-chair behind the stove. Plat happened one evening to come home rather late, and as he entered the room the cat was sitting in his usual place, scraping meal-grouts out of a pot, and licking the pot itself carefully. "Harkye, dame," said Plat, as he came in at the door, "till I tell you what happened to me on the road. Just as I was coming past Bröndhöi, there came out a Troll, and he called out to me, and said,

"Harkye Plat, Tell your cat,
That Knurremurre is dead."36
   The moment the cat heard these words, he tumbled the pot down on the floor, sprang out of the chair, and stood up on his hind-legs. Then, as he hurried out of the door, he cried out with exultation, "What! is Knurremurre dead? Then I may go home as fast as I please." And so saying he scampered off to the hill, to the amazement of honest Plat; and it is likely, lost no time in making his advances to the young widow.37

Kirsten's Hill

   There is a hill on the lands of Skjelverod, near Ringsted, called Kirsten's-hill (Kirstens Bjerg). In it there lived a Hill-troll whose name was Skynd, who had from time to time stolen no less than three wives from a man in the village of Englerup.
   It was late one evening when this man was riding home from Ringsted, and his way, lay, by the hill. When he came there he saw a great crowd of Hill-folk who were dancing round it, and had great merriment among them. But on looking a little closer, what should he recognise but all his three wives among them! Now as Kirsten, the second of them, had been his favourite, and dearer to him than either of the others, he called out to her, and named her name. Troll Skynd then came up to the man, and asked him why he presumed to call Kirsten. The man told him briefly how she had been his favourite and best beloved wife, and entreated of him, with many tears and much lamentation, to let him have her home with him again. The Troll consented at last to grant the husband's request, with, however, the condition, that he should never hurry (skynde) her.
   For a long time the husband strictly kept the condition but one day, when the woman was above in the loft, getting something, and it happened that she delayed a long time, he called out, Make haste, Kirsten, make haste, (Skynne dig Kirsten); and scarcely had he spoken the words, when the woman was gone, compelled to return to the hill, which has ever since been called Kirsten's Bjerg.38

The Troll-Labour

"In the year 1660, when I and my wife had gone to my farm (fäboderne), which is three quarters of a mile from Ragunda parsonage, and we were sitting there and talking a while, late in the evening, there came a little man in at the door, who begged of my wife to go and aid his wife, who was just then in the pains of labour. The fellow was of small size, of a dark complexion, and dressed in old grey clothes. My wife and I sat a while, and wondered at the man; for we were aware that he was a Troll, and we had heard tell that such like, called by the peasantry Vettar (spirits), always used to keep in the farmhouses, when people left them in harvest-time. But when he had urged his request four or five times, and we thought on what evil the country folk say that they have at times suffered from the Vettar, when they have chanced to swear at them, or with uncivil words bid them go to hell, I took the resolution to read some prayers over my wife, and to bless her, and bid her in God's name go with him. She took in haste some old linen with her, and went along with him, and I remained sitting there. When she returned, she told me, that when she went with the man out at the gate, it seemed to her as if she was carried for a time along in the wind, and so she came to a room, on one side of which was a little dark chamber, in which his wife lay in bed in great agony. My wife went up to her, and, after a little while, aided her till she brought forth the child after the same manner as other human beings. The man then offered her food, and when she refused it, he thanked her, and accompanied her out, and then she was carried along, in the same way in the wind, and after a while came again to the gate, just at ten o'clock. Meanwhile, a quantity of old pieces and clippings of silver were laid on a shelf, in the sitting-room, and my wife found them next day, when she was putting the room in order. It is to be supposed that they were laid there by the Vettr. That it in truth so happened, I witness, by inscribing my name. Ragunda, the 12th of April, 1671. "PET. RAHM."39 

The Hill-Smith

   Biorn Martinsson went out shooting, one day, with a gamekeeper, on the wooded hill of Ormkulla. They there found a hill-smith (bergsmed) lying fast asleep. Biorn directed the gamekeeper to secure him, but he refused, saying "Pray to God to protect you! The hill-smith will fling you down to the bottom of the hill." He was, however, bold and determined, and he went up and seized the sleeping hill-smith, who gave a cry, and implored him to let him go, as he had a wife and seven little children. He said he would also do any iron work that should be required; it would only be necessary to leave iron and steel on the side of the hill, and the work would be found lying finished in the same place. Biorn asked him for whom he worked; he replied, "For my companions." When Biorn would not let him go, he said, "If I had my mist-cap (uddehat) you should not carry me away. But if you do not let me go, not one of your posterity will attain to the importance which you possess, but continually decline;" which certainly came to pass. Biorn would not, however, let him go, but brought him captive to Bahus. On the third day, however, he effected his escape out of the place in which he was confined.40

   The following legend is related in Denmark:
   On the lands of Nyegaard lie three large hills, one of which is the abode of a Troll, who is by trade a blacksmith. If any one is passing that hill by night, he will see the fire issuing from the top, and going in again at the side. Should you wish to have any piece of iron-work executed in a masterly manner, you have only to go to the hill, and saying aloud what you want to have made, leave there the iron and a silver shilling. On revisiting the hill next morning, you will find the shilling gone, and the required piece of work lying there finished, and ready for use.41

The Girl at the Troll-Dance

   A girl, belonging to a village in the isle of Funen, went out, one evening, into the fields, and as she was passing by a small hill, she saw that it was raised upon red pillars, and a Troll-banquet going on beneath it. She was invited in, and such was the gaiety and festivity that prevailed, that she never perceived the flight of time. At length, however, she took her departure, after having spent, as she thought, a few hours among the joyous hill-people. But when she came to the village she no longer found it the place she had left. All was changed; and when she entered the house in which she had lived with her family, she learned that her father and mother had long been dead, and the house had come into the hands of strangers. She now perceived that for every hour that she had been among the Trolls, a year had elapsed in the external world. The effect on her mind was such that she lost her reason, which she never after recovered.42

The Changling

   There lived once, near Tiis lake, two lonely people, who were sadly plagued with a changeling, given them by the underground-people instead of their own child, which had not been baptised in time. This changeling behaved in a very strange and uncommon manner, for when there was no one in the place, he was in great spirits, ran up the walls like a cat, sat under the roof, and shouted and bawled away lustily; but sat dozing at the end of the table when any one was in the room with him. He was able to eat as much as any four, and never cared what it was that was set before him; but though he regarded not the quality of his food, in quantity he was never satisfied, and gave excessive annoyance to every one in the house.
   When they had tried for a long time in vain how they could best get rid of him, since there was no living in the house with him, a smart girl pledged herself that she would banish him from the house. She accordingly, while he was out in the fields, took a pig and killed it, and put it, hide, hair, and all, into a black pudding, and set it before him when he came home. He began, as was his custom, to gobble it up, but when he had eaten for some time, he began to relax a little in his efforts, and at last he sat quite still, with his knife in his hand, looking at the pudding.
   At length, after sitting for some time in this manner, he began - "A pudding with hide!-and a pudding with hair! a pudding with eyes! - and a pudding with legs in it! Well, three times have I seen a young wood by Tiis lake, but never yet did I see such a pudding! The devil himself may stay here now for me!" So saying, he ran off with himself, and never more came back again.43

   Another changeling was got rid of in the following manner. The mother, suspecting it to be such from its refusing food, and being so ill-thriven, heated the oven as hot as possible. The maid, as instructed, asked her why she did it. "To burn my child in it to death," was the reply. When the question had been put and answered three times, she placed the child on the peel, and was shoving it into the oven, when the Troll-woman came in a great fright with the real child, and took away her own, saying, "There's your child for you. I have treated it better than you treated mine," and in truth it was fat and hearty.

The Tile-Stove Jumping over the Brook

   Near Hellested, in Zealand, lived a man, who from time to time remarked that he was continually plundered. All his suspicions fell on the Troll-folk, who lived in the neighbour hill of Ildshöi (Fire-hill), and once hid himself to try and get a sight of the thief. He had waited there but a very short time when he saw, as he thought, his stove jumping across the brook. The good farmer was all astonishment at this strange sight, and he shouted out "Hurra! there's a jump for a tile-stove!" At this exclamation the Troll, who was wading through the water with the stove on his head, was so frightened that he threw it down, and ran off as hard as he could to Ildshöi. But in the place where the stove fell, the ground got the shape of it, and the place is called Krogbek (Hook-brook), and it was this that gave rise to the common saying, "That was a jump for a tile-stove!" "Det var et Spring of en Leerovn!" 44

Departure of the Trolls from Vendsyssel

   One evening, after sunset, there came a strange man to the ferry of Sued. He engaged all the ferry-boats there to go backwards and forwards the whole night long between that lace and Vendsyssel, without the people's knowing what ding they had. He told them that they should take their freight on board half a mile to the east of Sund, near the alehouse at the bridge of Lange.
   At the appointed time the man was at that place, and the ferrymen, though unable to see anything, perceived very dearly that the boats sunk deeper and deeper, so that they easily concluded that they had gotten a very heavy freight on board. The ferry-boats passed in this manner to and fro the whole night long; and though they got every trip a fresh cargo, the strange man never left them, but staid to have everything regulated by his directions.
   When morning was breaking they received the payment they had agreed for, and they then ventured to inquire what it was they had been bringing over, but on that head their employer would give them no satisfaction.
   But there happened to be among the ferrymen a smart fellow who knew more about these matters than the others. He jumped on shore, took the clay from under his right foot, and put it into his cap, and when he had set it on his head he perceived that all the sand-hills east of Aalborg were completely covered with little Troll-people, who had all pointed red caps on their heads. Ever since that time there have been no Dwarfs seen in Vendsyssel.45

Svend Fælling

   Svend Fælling was a valiant champion. He was born in Fælling, and was a long time at service in Aakjær house, Aarhuus, and as the roads were at that time greatly infested by Trolls and underground-people, who bore great enmity to all Christians, Svend undertook the office of letter-carrier.
   As he was one time going along the road, he saw approaching him the Troll of Jels-hill, on the lands of Holm. The Troll came up to him, begging him to stand his friend in a combat with the Troll of Borum-es-hill. When Svend Fælling had promised to do so, saying that he thought himself strong and active enough for the encounter, the Troll reached him a heavy iron bar, and bade him show his strength on that. But not all Svend's efforts availed to lift it whereupon the Troll handed him a horn, telling him to drink out of it. No sooner had he drunk a little out of it than his strength increased. He was now able to lift the bar, which, when he had drunk again, became still lighter; but when again renewing his draught he emptied the horn, he was able to swing the bar with ease, and he then learned from the Troll that he had now gotten the strength of twelve men. He then promised to prepare himself for combat with the Troll of Bergmond. As a token he was told that he should meet on the road a black ox and a red ox, and that he should fall with all his might on the black ox, and drive him from the red one.
   This all came to pass just as he was told, and he found, after his work was done, that the black ox was the Troll from Borum-es-hill, and the red ox was the Troll himself of Jelshill, who, as a reward for the assistance he had given him, allowed him to retain for his own use the twelve men's strength with which he had endowed him. This grant was, however, on this condition -that if ever he should reveal the secret of his strength, he should be punished by getting the appetite of twelve.
   The fame of the prodigious strength of Svend soon spread through the country, as he distinguished himself by various exploits, such, for instance, as throwing a dairy-maid, who had offended him, up on the gable of the house, and similar feats. So when this report came to the ears of his master, he had Svend called before him, and inquired of him whence his great strength came. Svend recollected the words of his friend the Troll, so he told him if he would promise him as much food as would satisfy twelve men, he would tell him. The master promised, and Svend told his story; but the word of the Troll was accomplished, for from that day forth Svend ate and drank as much as any twelve.46

The Dwarf's Banquet A NORWEGIAN TALE47

   There lived in Norway, not far from the city of Drontheim, a powerful man, who was blessed with all the goods of fortune. A part of the surrounding country was his property; numerous herds fed on his pastures, and a great retinue and a crowd of servants adorned his mansion. He had an only daughter, called Aslog,48 the fame of whose beauty spread far and wide. The greatest men of the country sought her, but all were alike unsuccessful in their suit, and he who had come full of confidence and joy, rode away home silent and melancholy. Her father, who thought his daughter delayed her choice only to select, forbore to interfere, and exulted in her prudence. But when, at length, the richest and noblest had tried their fortune with as little success as the rest, he grew angry, and called his daughter, and said to her, "Hitherto I have left you to your free choice, but since I see that you reject all without any distinction, and the very best of your suitors seem not good enough for you, I will keep measures no longer with you. What! shall my family be extinct, and my inheritance pass away into the hands of strangers? I will break your stubborn spirit. I give you now till the festival of the great Winter-night; make your choice by that time, or prepare to accept him whom I shall fix on."
   Aslog loved a youth called Orm, handsome as he was brave and noble. She loved him with her whole soul, and she would sooner die than bestow her hand on another. But Orm was poor, and poverty compelled him to serve in the mansion of her father. Aslog's partiality for him was kept a secret; for her father's pride of power and wealth was such that he would never have given his consent to an union with so humble a man.
   When Aslog saw the darkness of his countenance, and heard his angry words, she turned pale as death, for she knew his temper, and doubted not but that he would put his threats into execution. Without uttering a word in reply, she retired to her silent chamber, and thought deeply but in vain how to avert the dark storm that hung over her. The great festival approached nearer and nearer, and her anguish increased every day.
   At last the lovers resolved on flight. "I know," says Orm, "a secure place where we may remain undiscovered until we find an opportunity of quitting the country." At night, when all were asleep, Orm led the trembling Aslog over the snow and ice-fields away to the mountains. The moon and the stars sparkling still brighter in the cold winter's night lighted them on their way. They had under their arms a few articles of dress and some skins of animals, which were all they could carry. They ascended the mountains the whole night long till they reached a lonely spot inclosed with lofty rocks. Here Orm conducted the weary Aslog into a cave, the low and marrow entrance to which was hardly perceptible, but it soon enlarged to a great hall, reaching deep into the mountain. He kindled a fire, and they now, reposing on their skins, sat in the deepest solitude far away from all the world.
Orm was the first who had discovered this cave, which is shown to this very day, and as no one knew any thing of it, they were safe from the pursuit of Aslog's father. They passed the whole winter in this retirement. Orm used to go a hunting, and Aslog stayed at home in the cave, minded the fire, and prepared the necessary food. Frequently did. she mount the points of the rocks, but her eyes wandered as far as they could reach only over glittering snow-fields.
   The spring now came on-the woods were green-the meads put on their various colours, and Aslog could but rarely and with circumspection venture to leave the cave. One evening Orm came in with the intelligence that he had recognised her father's servants in the distance, and that he could hardly have been unobserved by them, whose eyes were as good as his own. "They will surround this place," continued he, "and never rest till they have found us; we must quit our retreat, then, without a moment's delay."
   They accordingly descended on the other side of the mountain, and reached the strand, where they fortunately found a boat. Orm shoved off, and the boat drove into the open sea. They had escaped their pursuers, but they were now exposed to dangers of another kind: whither should they turn themselves ? They could not venture to land, for Aslog's father was lord of the whole coast, and they would infallibly fall into his hands. Nothing then remained for them but to commit their bark to the wind and waves. They drove along the entire night. At break of day the coast had disappeared, and they saw nothing but the sky above, the sea beneath, and the waves that rose and fell. They had not brought one morsel of food with them, and thirst and hunger began now to torment them. Three days did they toss about in this state of misery, and Aslog, faint and exhausted, saw nothing but certain death before her.
   At length, on the evening of the third day, they discovered an island of tolerable magnitude, and surrounded by a number of smaller ones. Orm immediately steered for it, but just as he came near it there suddenly rose a violent wind, and the sea rolled every, moment higher and higher against him. He turned about with a view of approaching it on another side, but with no better success; his vessel, as oft as it approached the island, was driven back as if by an invisible power. "Lord God!" cried he, and blessed himself and looked on poor Aslog, who seemed to be dying of weakness before his eyes. But scarcely had the exclamation passed his lips when the storm ceased, the waves subsided, and the vessel came to the shore, without encountering any hindrance. Orm jumped out on the beach; some mussels that he found on the strand strengthened and revived the exhausted Aslog, so that she was soon able to leave the boat.
   The island was overgrown with low dwarf shrubs, and seemed to be uninhabited; but when they had gotten about to the middle of it, they discovered a house reaching but a little above the ground, and appearing to be half under the surface of the earth. In the hope of meeting human beings and assistance, the wanderers approached it. They listened if they could hear any noise, but the most perfect silence reigned there. Orm at length opened the door, and with his companion walked in; but what was their surprise, to find everything regulated and arranged as if for inhabitants, yet not a single living creature visible. The fire was burning on the hearth, in the middle of the room, and a pot with fish hung on it apparently only waiting for some one to take it up and eat it. The beds were made and ready to receive their wearied tenants. Orm and Aslog stood for some time dubious, and looked on with a certain degree of awe, but at last, overcome by hunger, they took up the food and ate. When they had satisfied their appetites, and still in the last beams of the setting sun, which now streamed over the island far and wide, discovered no human being, they gave way to weariness, and laid themselves in the beds to which they had been so long strangers. They had expected to be awakened in the night by the owners of the house on their return home, but their expectation was not fulfilled; they slept undisturbed till the morning sun shone in upon them. No one appeared on any of the following days, and it seemed as if some invisible power had made ready the house for their reception. They spent the whole summer in perfect happiness- they were, to be sure, solitary, yet they did not miss mankind. The wild birds' eggs, and the fish they caught, yielded them provisions in abundance.
   When autumn came, Aslog brought forth a son. In the midst of their joy at his appearance, they were surprised by a wonderful apparition. The door opened on a sudden, and as old woman stepped in. She had on her a handsome blue dress: there was something proud, but at the same time something strange and surprising in her appearance.
   "Do not be afraid," said she, "at my unexpected appearance-I am the owner of this house, and I thank you for the clean and neat state in which you have kept it, and for the good order in which I find everything with you. I would willingly have come sooner, but I had no power to do so till this little heathen (pointing to the new born-babe) was come to the light. Now I have free access. Only fetch no priest from the main-land to christen it, or I must depart again. If you will in this matter comply with my wishes, you may not only continue to live here, but all the good that ever you can wish for I will do you. Whatever you take in hand shall prosper; good luck shall follow you wherever you go. But break this condition, and depend upon it that misfortune after misfortune will come on you, and even on this child will I avenge myself. If you want anything, or are in danger, you have only to pronounce my name three times and I will appear and lend you assistance. I am of the race of the old Giants, and my name is Guru. But beware of uttering in my presence the name of him whom no Giant may hear of, and never venture to make the sign of the cross, or to cut it on beam or board in the house. You may dwell in this house the whole year long, only be so good as to give it up to me on Yule evening, when the sun is at the lowest, as then we celebrate our great festival, and then only are we permitted to be merry. At least, it you should not be willing to go out of the house, keep yourselves up in the loft as quiet as possible the whole day long, and as you value your lives do not look down into the room until midnight is past. After that you may take possession of everything again."
   When the old woman had thus spoken she vanished, and Aslog and Orm, now at ease respecting their situation, lived without any disturbance contented and happy. Orm never made a cast of his net without getting a plentiful draught; he never shot an arrow from his bow that it was not sure to hit; in short, whatever they took in hand, were it ever so trifling, evidently prospered.
   When Christmas came, they cleaned up the house in the best manner, set everything in order, kindled a fire on the hearth, and as the twilight approached, they went up to the loft, where they remained quite still and quiet. At length it grew dark; they thought they heard a sound of whizzing and snorting in the air, such as the swans use to make in the winter time. There was a hole in the roof over the fireplace which might be opened and shut either to let in the light from above, or to afford a free passage for the smoke. Orm lifted up the lid, which was covered with a skin, and put out his head. But what a wonderful sight then presented itself to his eyes! The little islands around were all lit up with countless blue lights, which moved about without ceasing, jumped up and down, then skipped down to the shore, assembled together, and came nearer and nearer to the large island where Orm and Aslog lived. At last they reached it, and arranged themselves in a circle around a large stone not far from the shore, and which Orm well knew. But what was his surprise, when he saw that the stone had now completely assumed the form of a man, though of a monstrous and gigantic one! He could clearly perceive that the little blue lights were borne by Dwarfs, whose pale clay-coloured faces, with their huge noses and red eyes, disfigured too by birds' bills and owls' eyes, were supported by misshapen bodies; and they tottered and wabbled about here and there, so that they seemed to be at the same time merry and in pain. Suddenly, the circle opened; the little ones retired on each side, and Guru, who was now much enlarged and of as immense a size as the stone, advanced with gigantic steps. She threw both her arms round the stone image, which immediately began to receive life and motion. As soon as the first symptom of motion showed itself, the little ones began, with wonderful capers and grimaces, a song, or to speak more properly, a howl, with which the whole island resounded and seemed to tremble at the noise. Orm, quite terrified, drew in his head, and he and Aslog remained in the dark, so still, that they hardly ventured to draw their breath.
   The procession moved on toward the house, as might be clearly perceived by the nearer approach of the shouting and crying. They were now all come in, and, light and active, the Dwarfs jumped about on the benches; and heavy and loud. sounded at intervals the steps of the giants. Orm and his wife heard them covering the table, and the clattering of the plates, and the shouts of joy with which they celebrated their banquet. When it was over and it drew near to midnight, they began to dance to that ravishing fairy-air which charms the mind into such sweet confusion, and which some have heard in the rocky glens, and learned by listening to the underground musicians. As soon as Aslog caught the sound of this air, she felt an irresistible longing to see the dance. Nor was Orm able to keep her back. "Let me look," said she, "or my heart will burst." She took her child and placed herself at the extreme end of the loft, whence, without being observed, she could see all that passed. Long did she gaze, without taking off her eyes, for an instant, on the dance, on the bold and wonderful springs of the little creatures who seemed to float in the air, and not so much as to touch the ground, while the ravishing melody of the elves filled her whole soul. The child meanwhile, which lay in her arms, grew sleepy and drew its breath heavily, and without ever thinking on the promise she had given the old woman, she made, as is usual, the sign of the cross over the mouth of the child, and said, "Christ bless you, my babe!"
   The instant she had spoken the word there was raised a horrible piercing cry. The spirits tumbled heads over heels out at the door with terrible crushing and crowding, their lights went out, and in a few minutes the whole house was clear of them, and left desolate. Orm and Aslog frightened to death, hid themselves in the most retired nook in the house. They did not venture to stir till daybreak, and not till the sun shone through the hole in the roof down on the fire-place did they feel courage enough to descend from the loft.
   The table remained still covered as the underground-people had left it; all their vessels, which were of silver, and manufactured in the most beautiful manner, were upon it. In the middle of the room, there stood upon the ground a huge copper vessel half full of sweet mead, and by the side of it, a drinking-horn of pure gold. In the corner lay against the wall a stringed instrument, not unlike a dulcimer, which, as people believe, the Giantesses used to play on. They gazed on what was before them, full of admiration, but without venturing to lay their hands on anything: but great and fearful was their amazement, when, on turning about, they saw sitting at the table an immense figure, which Orm instantly recognised as the Giant whom Guru had animated by her embrace. He was now a cold and hard stone. While they, were standing gazing on it, Guru herself entered the room in her giant-form. She wept so bitterly, that her tears trickled down on the ground. It was long ere her sobbing permitted her to utter a single word: at last she spoke:
   "Great affliction have you brought on me, and henceforth I must weep while I live; yet as I know that you have not done this with evil intentions, I forgive you, though it were a trifle for me to crush the whole house like an egg-shell over your heads."
   "Alas!" cried she, "my, husband, whom I love more than myself, there he sits, petrified for ever; never again will he open his eyes! Three hundred years lived I with my father on the island of Kunnan, happy in the innocence of youth, as the fairest among the Giant-maidens. Mighty heroes sued for my hand; the sea around that island is still filled with the rocky fragments which they hurled against each other in their combats. Andfind won the victory, and I plighted myself to him. But ere I was married came the detestable Odin into the country, who overcame my father, and drove us all from the island. My father and sisters fled to the mountains, and since that time my eyes have beheld them no more. Andfind and I saved ourselves on this island, where we for a long time lived in peace and quiet, and thought it would never be interrupted. But destiny, which no one escapes, had determined it otherwise. Oluf49 came from Britain. They called him the Holy, and Andfind instantly found that his voyage would be inauspicious to the giants. When he heard how Oluf's ship rushed through the waves, he went down to the strand and blew the sea against him with all his strength. The waves swelled up like mountains. But Oluf was still more mighty than he; his ship flew unchecked through the billows like an arrow from a bow. He steered direct for our island. When the ship was so near that Andfind thought he could reach it with his hands, he grasped at the forepart with his right hand, and was about to drag it down to the bottom, as he had often done with other ships. But Oluf, the terrible Oluf, stepped forward, and crossing his hands over each other, he cried with a loud voice, 'Stand there as a stone, till the last day,' and in the same instant my, unhappy husband became a mass of rock. The ship sailed on unimpeded, and ran direct against the mountain, which it cut through, and separated from it the little island which lies out yonder.50
   "Ever since my happiness has been annihilated, and lonely and melancholy have I passed my life. On Yule-eve alone can petrified Giants receive back their life for the space of seven hours, if one of their race embraces them, and is, at the same time, willing to sacrifice a hundred years of their own life. But seldom does a Giant do that. I loved my husband too well not to bring him back cheerfully to life every time that I could do it, even at the highest price, and never would I reckon how often I had done it, that I might not know when the time came when I myself should share his fate, and at the moment that I threw my arms around him become one with him. But alas! even this comfort is taken from me; I can never more by any embrace awake him, since he has heard the name which I dare not utter; and never again will he see the light until the dawn of the last day shall bring it.
   "I now go hence! You will never again behold me! All that is here in the house I give you! My dulcimer alone will I keep! But let no one venture to fig his habitation on the little islands that lie around here! There dwell the little underground ones whom you saw at the festival, and I will protect them as long as I live!"
   With these words Guru vanished. The next spring Orin took the golden horn and the silver ware to Drontheim, where no one knew him. The value of these precious metals was so great, that he was able to purchase everything requisite for a wealthy man. He laded his ship with his purchases, and returned back to the island, where he spent many years in unalloyed happiness, and Aslog's father was soon reconciled to his wealthy son-in-law.
   The stone image remained sitting in the house; no human power was able to move it. So hard was the stone, that hammer and axe flew in pieces without making the slightest impression upon it. The Giant sat there till a holy man came to the island, who with one single word removed him back to his former station, where he stands to this hour. The copper vessel, which the underground people left behind them, was preserved as a memorial upon the island, which bears the name of House Island to the present day.


1. There is no etymon of this word. It is to be found in both the Icelandic and the Finnish languages; whether the latter borrowed or communicated it is uncertain. Ihre derives the name of the celebrated waterfall of Trollhæta, near Görenburg, from Troll, and Haute Lapponice, an abyss. It therefore answers to the Irish Poul-a-Phooka. See Ireland.
2. In the following lines quoted in the Heimskringla, it would seem to signify the Dii Manes.
Tha gaf hann Trescegg Tröllum, Torf-Einarr drap Scurfo.
Then gave he Trescegg to the Trolls. Turf-Einarr slew Scurfo.
3. The ancient Gothic nation was called Troll by their Vandal neighbours (Junii Batavia, c. 27); according to Sir J. Malcolm, the Tartars call the Chinese Deevs. It was formerly believed, says Ihre, that the noble family of Troll, in Sweden, derived their name from having killed a Troll, that is, probably, a Dwarf.
4. Arndt, Reise nach Schweden, vol. iii. p. 8.
5. Like our Fairies the Trolls are sometimes of marvellously small dimensions: in the Danish ballad of Eline of Villenskov we read -
Det da meldte den mindste Trold, Han var ikke större end en myre, Her er kommet en Christen mand, Den maa jag visseligen styre.
Out then spake the tinyest Troll, No bigger than an emmet was he, Hither is come a Christian man, And manage him will I surelie.
6. Thiele, i. 36.
7. For this they seem to be indebted to their hat or cap. Eske Brok being one day in the fields, knocked off, without knowing it, the hat of a Dwarf who instantly became visible, and had, in order to recover it, to grant him every thing he asked. Thiele iii. 49. This hat answers to the Tarnkappe or Hel-kaplein of the German Dwarfs; who also become visible when their caps are struck off.
8. In the Danish ballad of Eline af Villenskov the hero is called Trolden graae, the Gray Trold, probably from the colour of his habiliments.
9. We deem it needless in future to refer to volume and page of Mr. Thiele's work. Those acquainted with the original will easily find the legends.
10. We have ventured to omit the Omquæd. I styren väll de Runor! (Manage well the runes!) The final e in Thynnè is marked merely to indicate that it is to be sounded.
11. Runeslag, literally Rune-stroke. Runes originally signified letters, and then songs. They were of two kinds, Maalrunor (Speech-runes), and Trollrunor (Magic-runes): These last were again divided into Skaderunur (Mischief-runes) and Hjelprunor (Help-runes), of each of which there were five kinds. See Verelius' notes to the Hervarar Saga, cap. 7.
   The power of music over all nature is a subject of frequent recurrence in northern poetry. Here all the wild animals are entranced by the magic tones of the harp; the meads flower, the trees put forth leaves; the knight, though grave and silent, is attracted, and even if inclined to stay away, he cannot restrain his horse.
12. Rosendelund. The word Lund signifies any kind of grove, thicket, &c.
13. Not the island of Iceland, but a district in Norway of that name. By Berner-land, Geijer thinks is meant the land of Bern (Verona), the country of Dietrich, so celebrated in German romance
14. Sabel och Mård. These furs are always mentioned in the northern ballads, as the royal rewards of distinguisked actions.
15. This fine ancient Visa was taken down from recitation in West Gothland. The corresponding Danish one of Herr Tonne is much later.
16. Niebuhr, speaking of the Celsi Ramnes, says, " With us the salutation of blood relations was Willkommen stolze Vetter (Welcome, proud cousins ) and in the Danish ballads, proud (stolt) is a noble appellation of a maiden." -Romische Geschichte, 2d edit. vol. i. p. 316.
   It may be added, that in English, proud and the synonymous term stout (stolz, stolt) had also the sense of noble, high-born.
   Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proud.
                                                           Knight's Tale.
   Up stood the queen and ladies stout.
17. Men jag vet at sorge är tung.
18. Wain, our readers hardly need be informed, originally signified any kind of carriage: see Faerie Queene, passim. It is the Aug. Sax. paen, and not a contraction of waggon.
19. From Vermland and Upland.
20. This we suppose to be the meaning of hemmagifta, as it is that of hemgift, the only word approaching to it that we have met in our dictionary.
21. Brandcreatur, a word of which we cannot ascertain the exact meaning. We doubt greatly if the following hjelmeta be helmets.
22. Grimm (Dent. Mythol. p. 435) has extracted this legend from the Bahuslan of Odman, who, as he observes, and as we may see, relates it quite seriously, and with the real names of persons. It is we believe the only legend of the union of a man with one of the hill-folk.
23. " Three kings' ransoms" is a common maximum with a Danish peasant when speaking of treasure.
24. "Rid paa det Bolde,
Og ikke paa dot Knolde."
25. Oral. This is an adventure common to many countries. The church of Vigersted in Zealand has a cup obtained in the same way. The man, in this case, took refuge in the church, and was there besieged by the Trolls till morning. The bridge of Hagbro in Jutland got its name from a similar event. When the man rode off with the silver jug from the beautiful maiden who presented it to him, an old crone set off in pursuit of him with such velocity, that she would surely have caught him, but that providentially he came to a running water. The pursuer, however, like Nannie with Tam o' Shanter, anght the horse's hind leg, but was only able to keep one of the cocks of his shoe: hence the bridge was called Hagbro, i. e. Cock Bridge.
26. Oral. Tiis Lake is in Zealand. It is the general belief of the peasantry that there are now very few Trolls in the country, for the ringing of bells has driven them all away, they, like the Stille-folk of the Germans, delighting in quiet and silence. It is said that a farmer having found a Troll sitting very disconsolate on a stone near Tiis Lake, and taking him at first for a decent Christian man, accosted him with- "Well! where are you going, friend?" "Ah!" said he, in a melancholy tone, "I am going off out of the country. I cannot live here any longer, they keep such eternal ringing and dinging!"
   "There is a high hill," says Kalm (Resa, &c. p. 136), "near Botna in Sweden, in which formerly dwelt a Troll. When they got up bells in Botna church, and he heard the ringing of them, he is related to have said:

"Det är så godt i det Botnaberg at bo,
Vore ikke den leda Bjällcko."
"Pleasant it were in Botnabill to dwell,
Were it not for the sound of that plaguey bell,"
27. This story is told by Rabelais with his characteristic humour and extravagance. As there are no trolls in France, it is the devil who is deceived in the French version. A legend similar to this is told of the district of Lujhmân in Afghanistân (Masson, Narrative, etc., iii. 297); but there it was the Shâitan (Satan) that cheated the farmers. The legends are surely independent fictions.
28. Oral. Gudmanstrup is in Zealand. In Ouroe, a little island close to Zealand, there is a hill whence the Trolls used to come down and supply themselves with provisions out of the farmers' pantries. Niel Jensen, who lived close to the hill, finding that they were making, as be thought over free with his provisions, took the liberty of putting a lock on the door through which they had access. But he had better have left it alone, for his daughter grew stone blind, and never recovered her sight till the lock was removed. -Resenii Atlas, i. 10. There is a similar story in Grimm's Deutsche Sagen, i. p. 55.
29. This legend is oral.
30. Tie stille, barn min!
Imorgen kommer Fin,
Fa'er din,
Og gi'er dig Esbern Snares üine og hjerte at lege med.
31. Oral. Kallundborg is in Zealand. Mr. Thiele says be saw four pillars at the church. The same story is told of the cathedral of Lund in Funen, which was built by the Troll Finn at the desire of St. Laurentius.
   Of Esbern Snare, Holberg says, "The common people tell wonderful stories of him, and how the devil carried him off; which, with other things, will serve to prove that be was an able man."
   The German story of Rumpelstilzchen (Kinder and Haus-Märchen, No. 55) is similar to this legend. MM. Grimm, in their note on this story, notice the unexpected manner in which, in the Thousand and One Days, or Persian Tales, the princess Turandot learns the name of Calaf.
Wind och Veder!
Du har satt spiran spedar!
Others say it was
Bläster! sätt spiran väster!
Blester! set the pinnacle westwards!
Slat! sätt spiran rätt!
Slatt! set the pinnacle straight!
33. Afzelius Sago-häfder, iii. 83. Grimm, Deut. Mythol. p. 515.
34. This event happened in Jutland. The Troll's dread of thunder seems to be founded in the mythologic narratives of Thor's enmity to the Trolls.
35. Groute, Danish Grod, is a species of food like furmety, made of shelled oats or barley. It is boiled and eaten with milk or butter.
Hör du Plat,
Siig til din Kat,
At Knurremurre er död.
37. The scene of this story is in Zealand. The same is related of a hill called Ornehöi in the same island. The writer has heard it in Ireland, hut they were cats who addressed the man as he passed by the churchyard where they were assembled.
38. This legend was orally related to Mr. Thiele.
39. Hulpher, Samlingen om Jämtland. Westeras, 1775. p. 210 ap. Grimm, Deut. Mythol., p. 425.
40. Ödmans Bahuslan, ap. Grimm. Dent. Mythol. p. 426. Ödman also tells of a man who, as he was going along one day with his dog, came on a hill-smith at his work, using a stone as an anvil. He had on him a light grey coat and a black woollen hat. The dog began to bark at him, but he put oh so menacing an attitude that they both deemed it advisable to go away.
41. Thiele, iv. 120. In both these legends we find the tradition of the artistic skill of the Duergar and of Volundr still retained by the peasantry see Tales and Popular Fictions, p. 270.
42. Thiele, iv. 21. In Otmar's Volksagen, there is a German legend of Peter Klaus, who slept a sleep of twenty years in the bowling-green of the Kyffhäuser, from which Washington Irving made his Ripp van Winkle. We shall also find it in the Highlands of Scotland. It is the Irish legend of Clough na Cuddy, so extremely well told by Mr. C. Croker (to which, by the way, we contributed a Latin song), in the notes to which further information will be found. The Seven Sleepers seems to be the original.
43. Oral. See the Young Piper and the Brewery of Egg-shells in the Irish Fairy Legends, with the notes. The same story is also to be found in Germany where the object is to make the changeling laugh. The mother breaks an egg in two and sets water down to boil in each half shell. The imp then cries out: " Well! I'm as old as the Westerwald, but never before saw I any one cooking in egg-shells," and burst out laughing at it. Instantly the true child was returned.-Kinder and Haus-Märchen, iii. 39. Grose also tells the story in his Provincial Glossary. The mother there breaks a dozen of eggs and sets the shells before the child, who says, "I was seven years old when I came to nurse, and I have lived four since, and yet I never saw so many milkpans." See also Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, and below, Wales, Brittany, France.
44. This legend is taken from Resenii Atlas, i. 36
45. Vendsyssel and Aalborg are both in North Jutland.-The story is told by the ferrymen to travellers: see Mythology of Greece and Italy, p. 68.
46. See above p. 89. According to what Mr. Thiele was told in Zealand, Svend Faelling must have been of prodigious size, for there is a hill near Steenstrup on which he used to sit while he washed his feet and hands in the sea, about half a quarter of a mile distant. The people of Holmstrup dressed a dinner for him, and brought it to him in large brewing vessels, much as the good people of Lilliput did with Gulliver. This reminds us of Holger Danske, who once wanted a new suit of clothes. Twelve tailors were employed: they set ladders to his back and shoulders, as was done to Gulliver, and they measured away; but the man that was highest on the right side ladder chanced, as he was cutting a mark in the measure, to clip Holger's ear. Holger, forgetting what it was, hastily put up his hand to his head, caught the poor tailor, and crushed him to death between his fingers.
47. This tale was taken from oral recitation by Dr. Grimm, and inserted in Hauff's Märchenalmanach for 1827. Dr. Grimm's fidelity to tradition is too well known to leave any doubt of its genuineness.
48. Aslög (Light of the Aser) is the name of the lovely daughter of Sigurd and Brynhilda, who became the wife of Ragnar Lodbrok. How beautiful and romantic is the account in the Volsunga Saga of old Heimer taking her, when an infant, and carrying her about with him in his harp, to save her from those who sought her life as the last of Sigurd's race ; his retiring to remote streams and waterfalls to wash her, and his stilling her cries by the music of hit harp !
49. This is Saint Oluf or Olave, the warlike apostle of the North.
50. A legend similar to this is told of Saint Oluf in various parts of Scandinavia. The following is an example :-As he was sailing by the high strandhills in Hornsherred, in which a giantess abode, she cried out to him,
Saint Oluf with the red beard hear!
My cellar-wall thou'rt sailing too near!
Oluf was incensed, and instead of guiding the ship through the rocks, he turned it toward the hill, replying
Hearken thou witch with thy spindle and rock!
There shalt thou sit and be a stone-block!
and scarcely had he spoken when the hill burst and the giantess was turned into stone. She is still seen sitting on the east side with her rock and spindle; out of the opposite mass sprang a holy well. Grimm. Deutsche Mythologie, p. 516.