Folk Lore and Legends; Scandinavian by Various

V >> Various >> Folk Lore and Legends; Scandinavian

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

FOLK-LORE AND LEGENDS SCANDINAVIAN

W. W. Gibbings
18 Bury St., London, W.C.

1890

PREFATORY NOTE.

Thanks to Thiele, to Hylten-Cavallius and Stephens, and to Asbjoernsen
and Moe, Scandinavian Folklore is well to the front. Its treasures are
many, and of much value. One may be almost sorry to find among them the
originals of many of our English tales. Are we indebted to the folk of
other nations for all our folk-tales? It would almost seem so.

I have introduced into the present volume only one or two stories from
the Prose Edda. Space would not allow me to give so much of the Edda as
I could have wished.

In selecting and translating the matter for this volume, I have
endeavoured to make the book such as would afford its readers a fair
general view of the main features of the Folklore of the North. C.J.T.

CONTENTS

The Wonderful Plough (Isle of Rugen)

How a Lad stole the Giant's Treasure (Sweden)

Tales of Cats (Denmark)

The Magician's Daughter (Sweden)

The Hill-man invited to the Christening (Denmark)

The Meal of Frothi (Norway)

The Lost Bell (Isle of Rugen)

Maiden Swanwhite and Maiden Foxtail (Sweden)

Tales of Treasure (Denmark)

Holger Danske (Denmark)

Tales from the Prose Edda--

The Gods and the Wolf

The Strange Builder

Thor's Journey to the Land of Giants

How Thor Went a-Fishing

The Death of Baldur

The Punishment of Loki

The Origin of Tiis Lake (Denmark)

There are such Women (Norway)

Tales of the Nisses (Denmark)

The Dwarfs' Banquet (Norway)

The Icelandic Sorceresses (Eyrbiggia Saga)

The Three Dogs (Sweden)

The Legend of Thorguima (Eyrbiggia Saga)

The Little Glass Shoe (Isle of Rugen)

How Loki Wagered his Head (Edda Resenii)

The Adventures of John Dietrich (Isle of Rugen)

How Thorston Became Rich (Thorston's Saga)

Gudbrand of the Hillside (Norway)

The Dwarf-Sword Tirfing (Hervarar Saga)

THE WONDERFUL PLOUGH.

There was once a farmer who was master of one of the little black dwarfs
that are the blacksmiths and armourers, and he got him in a very curious
way. On the road leading to this farmer's ground there stood a stone
cross, and every morning as he went to his work he used to stop and
kneel down before this cross, and pray for some minutes.

On one of these occasions he noticed on the cross a pretty, bright
insect, of such a brilliant hue that he could not recollect having ever
before seen the like in an insect. He wondered greatly at this, but
still he did not disturb it. The insect did not remain long quiet, but
ran without ceasing backwards and forwards upon the cross, as if it was
in pain and wanted to get away.

Next morning the farmer again saw the very same insect, and again it was
running to and fro in the same state of uneasiness. The farmer began now
to have some suspicions about it, and thought to himself--

"Would this now be one of the little black enchanters? It runs about
just like one that has an evil conscience, as one that would, but
cannot, get away."

A variety of thoughts and conjectures passed through his mind, and he
remembered what he had often heard from his father and other old people,
that when any of the underground people chance to touch anything holy
they are held fast and cannot quit the spot, and so they are extremely
careful to avoid all such things.

"But," thought he, "you may even be something else, and I should,
perhaps, be committing a sin in taking the little insect away."

So he let it stay where it was.

When, however, he twice again found it in the same place, and still
running about with the same signs of uneasiness, he said--

"No, it is not all right with it, so now, in the name of God."

He made a grasp at the insect, which resisted and clung fast to the
stone; but he held it tight, and tore it away by main force, and lo!
then he found he had, by the top of the head, a little ugly black chap,
about six inches long, screeching and kicking at a furious rate.

The farmer was greatly astounded at this sudden transformation. Still he
held his prize fast, and kept calling to him, while he administered to
him a few smart slaps--

"Be quiet, be quiet, my little man! If crying was to do the business, we
might look for heroes in swaddling-clothes. We'll just take you with us
a bit, and see what you are good for."

The little fellow trembled and shook in every limb, and then began to
whimper most piteously, and begged of the farmer to let him go.

"No, my lad," replied the farmer, "I will not let you go till you tell
me who you are, and how you came here, and what trade you know that
enables you to earn your bread in the world."

At this the little man grinned and shook his head, but said not a word
in reply, only begging and praying the more to get loose. The farmer
thought he must now entreat him if he would coax any information out of
him. But it was all to no purpose. He then adopted the contrary method,
and whipped and slashed him, but just to as little effect. The little
black thing remained as dumb as the grave, for this species is the most
malicious and obstinate of all the underground folk.

The farmer now got angry, and said--

"Do but be quiet, my child. I should be a fool to put myself into a
passion with such a little brat. Never fear, I shall soon make you tame
enough."

So saying, he ran home with him, and clapped him into a black sooty iron
pot, and put the iron lid upon it, and laid on the top of the lid a
great heavy stone. Then he set the pot in a dark, cold room, and as he
was going out, said to him--

"Stay there, now, and freeze till you are black! I'll engage that at
last you will answer me civilly."

Twice a week the farmer went regularly into the room and asked his
little black captive if he would answer him now, but the little one
still obstinately persisted in his silence. The farmer had, without
success, pursued this course for six weeks, at the end of which time his
prisoner at last gave up. One day, as the farmer was opening the room
door, of his own accord he asked him to come and take him out of his
dirty, gloomy dungeon, promising that he would now cheerfully do all
that was wanted of him.

The farmer first ordered him to tell him his history. The black one
replied--

"My dear friend, you know it just as well as I do, or else you never
would have had me here. You see I happened by chance to come too near
the cross, a thing we little people may not do, and then I was held
fast, and obliged instantly to let my body become visible. In order that
people might not recognise me, I turned myself into an insect. But you
found me out. When we get fastened to holy or consecrated things we can
never get away from them unless a man takes us off. That, however, does
not happen without plague and annoyance to us; though, indeed, to say
the truth, the staying fastened there is not over pleasant. So I
struggled against you too, for we have a natural aversion to let
ourselves be taken in a man's hand."

"Ho, ho! is that the tune with you?" cried the farmer. "You have a
natural aversion have you? Believe me, my sooty friend, I have just the
same for you, and so you shall be away without a moment's delay, and we
will lose no time in making our bargain with each other. But you must
first make me some present."

"What you will you have only to ask," said the little one, "silver and
gold, and precious stones, and costly furniture--all shall be thine in
less than an instant."

"Silver and gold, and precious stones, and all such glittering fine
things, will I none," said the farmer. "They have turned the heart and
broken the neck of many a one before now, and few are they whose lives
they make happy. I know that you are handy smiths, and have many a
strange thing with you that other smiths know nothing about. So, come
now, swear to me that you will make me an iron plough, such that the
smallest foal may be able to draw it without being tired, and then run
off with you as fast as your legs will carry you." So the black swore,
and then the farmer cried out--

"Now, in the name of God. There you are at liberty," and the little one
vanished like lightning.

Next morning, before the sun was up, there stood in the farmer's yard a
new iron plough, and he yoked his dog, Water, to it; and though it was
of the size of an ordinary plough, Water drew it with ease through the
heaviest clayland, and it tore up prodigious furrows. The farmer used
this plough for many years, and the smallest foal or the leanest little
horse could draw it through the ground, to the amazement of every one
who beheld it, without turning a single hair.

This plough made a rich man of the farmer, for it cost him no
horse-flesh, and he led a cheerful and contented life by means of it.

Hereby we may see that moderation holds out the longest, and that it is
not good to covet too much.

HOW A LAD STOLE THE GIANT'S TREASURE.

Once upon a time there lived a peasant who had three sons. The two elder
ones used to go with him to the field and to the forest, and helped him
in his work, but the youngest remained at home with his mother, to help
her in the house. His brothers despised him for doing this, and whenever
they had a chance they used him badly.

At length the father and mother died, and the sons divided the property
among them. As might have been looked for, the elder brothers took all
that was of any value for themselves, leaving nothing to the youngest
but an old cracked kneading-trough, which neither of them thought worth
the having.

"The old trough," said one of the brothers, "will do very well for our
young brother, for he is always baking and scrubbing."

The boy thought this, as was only natural, a poor thing to inherit, but
he could do nothing, and he now recognised that it would be no use his
remaining at home, so he wished his brothers good-bye, and went off to
seek his fortune. On coming to the side of a lake he made his trough
water-tight with oakum, and converted it into a little boat. Then he
found two sticks, and using these as oars rowed away.

When he had crossed the water, he saw a large palace, and entering it,
he asked to speak with the king. The king questioned him respecting his
family and the purpose of his visit.

"I," said the boy, "am the son of a poor peasant, and all I have in the
world is an old kneading-trough. I have come here to seek work."

The king laughed when he heard this.

"Indeed," said he, "you have not inherited much, but fortune works many
a change."

He took the lad to be one of his servants, and he became a favourite for
his courage and honesty.

Now the king who owned this palace had an only daughter, who was so
beautiful and so clever that she was talked of all through the kingdom,
and many came from the east and from the west to ask her hand in
marriage. The princess, however, rejected them all, saying that none
should have her for his wife unless he brought her for a wedding-present
four valuable things belonging to a giant who lived on the other side of
the lake. These four treasures were a gold sword, three gold hens, a
gold lantern, and a gold harp.

Many king's sons and many good warriors tried to win these treasures,
but none of them came back, for the giant caught them all and eat them.
The king was very sorrowful, for he feared that at this rate his
daughter would never get a husband, and so he would not have a
son-in-law to whom to leave his kingdom.

The boy when he heard of this thought that it might be well worth his
while to try to win the king's beautiful daughter. So he went to the
king one day, and told him what he meant to do. When the king heard him,
he got angry, and said--

"Do you think that you, who are only a servant, can do what great
warriors have failed in?"

The boy, however, was not to be dissuaded, and begged him so to let him
go that at last the king grew calmer and gave him his permission. "But,"
said he, "you will lose your life, and I shall be sorry to miss you."

With that they parted.

The boy went down to the shore of the lake, and, having found his
trough, he looked it over very closely. Then he got into it and rowed
across the lake, and coming to the giant's dwelling he hid himself, and
stayed the night there.

Very early in the morning, before it was light, the giant went to his
barn, and began to thrash, making such a noise that the mountains all
around echoed again. When the boy heard this he collected some stones
and put them in his pouch. Then he climbed up on to the roof of the barn
and made a little hole so that he could look in. Now the giant had by
his side his golden sword, which had the strange property that it
clanked whenever the giant was angry. While the giant was busy thrashing
at full speed, the boy threw a little stone which hit the sword, and
caused it to clank.

"Why do you clank?" said the giant. "I am not angry."

He went on thrashing, but the next moment the sword clanked again. Once
more the giant pursued his work, and the sword clanked a third time.
Then the giant got so angry that he undid the belt, and threw the sword
out of the barn door.

"Lie there," said he, "till I have done my thrashing."

The lad waited no longer, but slipping down from the roof seized on the
sword, ran to his boat, and rowed across the water. On reaching the
other side he hid his treasure, and was full of glee at the success of
his adventure.

The next day he filled his pouch with corn, put a bundle of bast-twine
in his boat, and once more set off to the giant's dwelling. He lay
hiding for a time, and then he saw the giant's three golden hens walking
about on the shore, and spreading their feathers, which sparkled
beautifully in the bright sunshine. He was soon near them, and began to
softly lead them on, scattering corn for them out of his pouch. While
they were picking the boy gradually led them to the water, till at last
he got them into his little boat. Then he jumped in himself, secured the
fowl with his twine, pushed out from the shore, and rowed as quickly as
he could to the other side of the water.

The third day he put some lumps of salt into his pouch, and again rowed
across the lake. As night came on he noticed how the smoke rose from
the giant's dwelling, and concluded that the giant's wife was busy
getting ready his food. He crept up on to the roof, and, looking down
through the hole by which the smoke escaped, saw a large caldron boiling
on the fire. Then he took the lumps of salt out of his pouch, and threw
them one by one into the pot. Having done this, he crept down from the
roof, and waited to see what would follow.

Soon after the giant's wife took the caldron off the fire, poured out
the porridge into a bowl, and put it on the table. The giant was hungry,
and he fell to at once, but scarcely had he tasted the porridge when he
found it too salt. He got very angry, and started from his seat. The old
woman made what excuse she could, and said that the porridge must be
good; but the giant declared he would eat no more of the stuff, and told
her to taste it for herself. She did so, and pulled a terrible face, for
she had never in her life tasted such abominable stuff.

There was nothing for it but she must make some new porridge. So she
seized a can, took the gold lantern down from the wall, and went as fast
as she could to the well to draw some water. She put the lantern down by
the side of the well, and was stooping down to get the water, when the
boy ran to her, and, laying hold of her by the feet, threw her head over
heels into the well. He seized hold of the golden lantern, ran away as
fast as he could to his boat, and rowed across the water in safety.

The giant sat for a long time wondering why his wife was away so long.
At last he went to look for her, but nothing could he see of her. Then
he heard a splashing in the well, and finding she was in the water, he,
with a lot of work, got her out.

"Where is my gold lantern?" was the first thing he asked, as the old
woman came round a little.

"I don't know," answered she. "Somebody came, caught me by the feet, and
threw me into the well."

The giant was very angry at this.

"Three of my treasures," said he, "have gone, and I have now only my
golden harp left. But, whoever the thief may be, he shall not have that;
I will keep that safe under twelve locks."

While these things occurred at the giant's dwelling, the boy sat on the
other side of the water, rejoicing that he had got on so well.

The most difficult task, however, had yet to be done, and for a long
time he thought over how he could get the golden harp. At length he
determined to row over to the giant's place and see if fortune would
favour him.

No sooner said than done. He rowed over and went to a hiding-place. The
giant had, however, been on the watch, and had seen him. So he rushed
forward in a terrible rage and seized the boy, saying--

"So I have caught you at last, you young rascal. You it was who stole my
sword, my three gold hens, and my gold lantern."

The boy was terribly afraid, for he thought his last hour was come.

"Spare my life, father," said he humbly, "and I will never come here
again."

"No," replied the giant, "I will do the same with you as with the
others. No one slips alive out of my hands."

He then shut the boy up in a sty, and fed him with nuts and sweet milk,
so as to get him nice and fat preparatory to killing and eating him.

The lad was a prisoner, but he ate and drank and made himself as easy as
he could. After some time the giant wanted to find out if he were fat
enough to be killed. So he went to the sty, made a little hole in the
wall, and told the boy to put his finger through it. The lad knew what
he wanted; so instead of putting out his finger he poked out a little
peeled alder twig. The giant cut the twig, and the red sap ran out. Then
he thought the boy must be yet very lean since his flesh was so hard, so
he caused a greater supply of milk and nuts to be given to him.

Some time after, the giant again visited the sty, and ordered the boy to
put his finger through the hole in the wall. The lad now poked out a
cabbage-stalk, and the giant, having cut it with his knife, concluded
that the lad must be fat enough, his flesh seemed so soft.

The next morning the giant said to his wife--

"The boy seems to be fat enough now, mother; take him then to-day, and
bake him in the oven, while I go and ask our kinsfolk to the feast."

The old woman promised to do what her husband told her. So, having
heated the oven, she dragged out the boy to bake him.

"Sit on the shovel," said she.

The boy did so, but when the old woman raised the shovel the boy always
fell off. So they went on many times. At last the giantess got angry,
and scolded the boy for being so awkward; the lad excused himself,
saying that he did not know the way to sit on the shovel.

"Look at me," said the woman, "I will show you."

So she sat herself down on the shovel, bending her back and drawing up
her knees. No sooner was she seated than the boy, seizing hold of the
handle, pushed her into the oven and slammed the door to. Then he took
the woman's fur cloak, stuffed it out with straw, and laid it on the
bed. Seizing the giant's bunch of keys, he opened the twelve locks,
snatched up the golden harp, and ran down to his boat, which he had
hidden among the flags on the shore.

The giant soon afterwards came home.

"Where can my wife be?" said he. "No doubt she has lain down to sleep a
bit. Ah! I thought so."

The old woman, however, slept a long while, and the giant could not wake
her, though he was now expecting his friends to arrive.

"Wake up, mother," cried he, but no one replied. He called again, but
there was no response. He got angry, and, going to the bed, he gave the
fur cloak a good shake. Then he found that it was not his wife, but
only a bundle of straw put in her clothes. At this the giant grew
alarmed, and he ran off to look after his golden harp. He found his keys
gone, the twelve locks undone, and the harp missing. He went to the oven
and opened the door to see how the meat for the feast was going on.
Behold! there sat his wife, baked, and grinning at him.

Then the giant was almost mad with grief and rage, and he rushed out to
seek the lad who had done him all this mischief. He came down to the
edge of the water and found him sitting in his boat, playing on the
harp. The music came over the water, and the gold strings shone
wonderfully in the sunshine. The giant jumped into the water after the
boy; but finding that it was too deep, he laid himself down, and began
to drink the water in order to make the lake shallower. He drank with
all his might, and by this means set up a current which drew the boat
nearer and nearer to the shore. Just when he was going to lay hold of it
he burst, for he had drunk too much; and there was an end of him.

The giant lay dead on the shore, and the boy moved away across the lake,
full of joy and happiness. When he came to land, he combed his golden
hair, put on fine clothes, fastened the giant's gold sword by his side,
and, taking the gold harp in one hand and the gold lantern in the other,
he led the gold fowl after him, and went to the king, who was sitting in
the great hall of the palace surrounded by his courtiers. When the king
saw the boy he was heartily glad. The lad went to the king's beautiful
daughter, saluted her courteously, and laid the giant's treasures before
her. Then there was great joy in the palace, that the princess had after
all got the giant's treasures and so bold and handsome a bridegroom. The
wedding was celebrated soon after with very much splendour and
rejoicing; and when the king died the lad succeeded him, ruling over all
the land both long and happily.

I know no more respecting them.

TALES OF CATS.

The house of Katholm (Cat-isle) near Grenaac, in Jutland, got its name
from the following circumstance.

There was a man in Jutland who had made a good deal of money by improper
means. When he died he left his property equally among his three sons.
The youngest, when he got his share, thought to himself--

"What comes with sin goes with sorrow," and he resolved to submit his
money to the water-ordeal, thinking that the ill-got money would sink to
the bottom, and what was honestly acquired swim on the top. He
accordingly cast all his money into the water, and only one solitary
farthing swam. With this he bought a cat, and he went to sea and visited
foreign parts. At length he chanced to come to a place where the people
were sadly plagued by an enormous number of rats and mice, and as his
cat had had kittens by this time, he acquired great wealth by selling
them. So he came home to Jutland, and built himself a house, which he
called Katholm.

There was one time a poor sailor out of Ribe, who came to a foreign
island whose inhabitants were grievously plagued with mice. By good
luck he had a cat of his own on board, and the people of the island gave
him so much gold for it that he went home as fast as he could to fetch
more cats, and by this traffic he in a short time grew so rich that he
had no need of any more. Some time after, when he was on his deathbed,
he bequeathed a large sum of money for the building of Ribe Cathedral,
and a proof of this is still to be seen in a carving over the east door
of the church, representing a cat and four mice. The door is called
Cat-head Door (Kathoved Dor).

THE MAGICIAN'S DAUGHTER

Just on the Finland frontiers there is situated a high mountain, which,
on the Swedish side, is covered with beautiful copsewood, and on the
other with dark pine-trees, so closely ranked together, and so luxuriant
in shade, that one might almost say the smallest bird could not find its
way through the thickets. Below the copsewood there stands a chapel with
the image of St. George, as guardian of the land and as a defence
against dragons, if there be such, and other monsters of paganism,
while, on the other side, on the borders of the dark firwood, are
certain cottages inhabited by wicked sorcerers, who have, moreover, a
cave cut so deep into the mountain that it joins with the bottomless
abyss, whence come all the demons that assist them. The Swedish
Christians who dwelt in the neighbourhood of this mountain thought it
would be necessary, besides the chapel and statue of St. George, to
choose some living protector, and therefore selected an ancient warrior,
highly renowned for his prowess in the battle-field, who had, in his old
age, become a monk. When this man went to take up his abode upon the
mountains, his only son (for he had formerly lived as a married man in
the world) would on no account leave him, but lived there also,
assisting his father in his duties as watcher, and in the exercises of
prayer and penitence, fully equalling the example that was now afforded
him as he had formerly done his example as a soldier.

The life led by those two valiant champions is said to have been most
admirable and pious.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11