Folk Lore and Legends; Scandinavian by Various

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A long time passed, but neither the wine nor the dogs appeared.

"I can well see," said the giant, "that your dogs do not do what you
tell them, or we should not sit here thirsty. It seems to me it would be
best to send Quick-ear to ascertain why they don't come back."

The lad was nettled at that, and ordered his third dog to go in haste to
the spring. Quick-ear did not want to go, but whined and crept to his
master's feet. Then the lad became angry, and drove him away. The dog
had to obey, so away he set in great haste to the top of the mountain.
When he reached it, it happened to him as it had to the others. There
arose a high wall around him, and he was made a prisoner by the giant's
sorcery.

When all the three dogs were gone, the giant stood up, put on a
different look, and gripped his bright sword which hung upon the wall.

"Now will I avenge my brethren," said he, "and you shall die this
instant, for you are in my hands."

The lad was frightened, and repented that he had parted with his dogs.

"I will not ask my life," said he, "for I must die some day. I only ask
one thing, that I may say my _Paternoster_ and play a psalm on my
pipe. That is the custom in my country."

The giant granted him his wish, but said he would not wait long. The lad
knelt down, and devoutly said his _Paternoster_, and began to play
upon his pipe so that it was heard over hill and dale. That instant the
magic lost its power, and the dogs were once more set free. They came
down like a blast of wind, and rushed into the mountain. Then the lad
sprang up and cried--

"Hold-fast, hold him; Tear and Quick-ear, tear him into a thousand
pieces."

The dogs flew on the giant, and tore him into countless shreds. Then the
lad took all the treasures in the mountain, harnessed the giant's
horses to a golden chariot, and made haste to be gone.

As may well be imagined, the young princesses were very glad at being
thus saved, and they thanked the lad for having delivered them from the
power of mountain giants. He himself fell deep in love with the youngest
princess, and they vowed to be true and faithful. So they travelled,
with mirth and jest and great gladness, and the lad waited on the
princesses with the respect and care they deserved. As they went on, the
princesses played with the lad's hair, and each one hung her finger-ring
in his long locks as a keepsake.

One day as they were journeying, they came up with two wanderers who
were going the same way. They had on tattered clothes, their feet were
sore, and altogether one would have thought they had come a long
distance. The lad stopped his chariot and asked them who they were and
where they came from. The strangers said they were two princes who had
gone out to look for the three maidens who had been carried off to the
mountains. They had, however, searched in vain, so they had now to go
home more like beggars than princes.

When the lad heard that, he had pity on the two wanderers, and he asked
them to go with him in the beautiful chariot. The princes gave him many
thanks for the favour. So they travelled on together till they came to
the land over which the father of the princesses ruled.

Now when the princes heard how the poor lad had rescued the princesses,
they were filled with envy, thinking how they themselves had wandered to
no purpose. They considered how they could get rid of him, and obtain
the honour and rewards for themselves. So one day they suddenly set on
him, seized him by the throat, and nearly strangled him. Then they
threatened to kill the princesses unless they took an oath not to reveal
what they had done, and they, being in the princes' power, did not dare
to refuse. However, they were very sorry for the youth who had risked
his life for them, and the youngest princess mourned him with all her
heart, and would not be comforted.

After having done this, the princes went on to the king's demesnes, and
one can well imagine how glad the king was to once more see his three
daughters.

Meanwhile the poor lad lay in the forest as if he were dead. He was not,
however, forsaken, for the three dogs lay down by him, kept him warm,
and licked his wounds. They attended to him till he got his breath
again, and came once more to life. When he had regained life and
strength, he began his journey, and came, after having endured many
hardships, to the king's demesnes, where the princesses lived.

When he went into the palace, he marked that the whole place was filled
with mirth and joy, and in the royal hall he heard dancing and the sound
of harps. The lad was much astonished, and asked what it all meant.

"You have surely come from a distance," said the servant, "not to know
that the king has got back his daughters from the mountain giants. The
two elder princesses are married to-day."

The lad asked about the youngest princess, whether she was to be
married. The servant said she would have no one, but wept continually,
and no one could find out the reason for her sorrow. Then the lad was
glad, for he well knew that his love was faithful and true to him.

He went up into the guard-room, and sent a message to the king that a
guest had come who prayed that he might add to the wedding mirth by
exhibiting his dogs. The king was pleased, and ordered that the stranger
should be well received. When the lad came into the hall, the wedding
guests much admired his smartness and his manly form, and they all
thought they had never before seen so brave a young man. When the three
princesses saw him they knew him at once, rose from the table, and ran
into his arms. Then the princes thought they had better not stay there,
for the princesses told how the lad had saved them, and how all had
befallen. As a proof of the truth of what they said, they showed their
rings in the lad's hair.

When the king knew how the two foreign princes had acted so
treacherously and basely he was much enraged, and ordered that they
should be driven off his demesnes with disgrace.

The brave youth was welcomed with great honour, as, indeed, he deserved,
and he was, the same day, married to the youngest princess. When the
king died, the youth was chosen ruler over the land, and made a brave
king. There he yet lives with his beautiful queen, and there he governs
prosperously to this day.

I know no more about him.

THE LEGEND OF THORGUNNA.

A ship from Iceland chanced to winter in a haven near Helgafels. Among
the passengers was a woman named Thorgunna, a native of the Hebrides,
who was reported by the sailors to possess garments and household
furniture of a fashion far surpassing those used in Iceland. Thurida,
sister of the pontiff Snorro, and wife of Thorodd, a woman of a vain and
covetous disposition, attracted by these reports, made a visit to the
stranger, but could not prevail upon her to display her treasures.
Persisting, however, in her inquiries, she pressed Thorgunna to take up
her abode at the house of Thorodd. The Hebridean reluctantly assented,
but added, that as she could labour at every usual kind of domestic
industry, she trusted in that manner to discharge the obligation she
might lie under to the family, without giving any part of her property
in recompense of her lodging. As Thurida continued to urge her request,
Thorgunna accompanied her to Froda, the house of Thorodd, where the
seamen deposited a huge chest and cabinet, containing the property of
her new guest, which Thurida viewed with curious and covetous eyes. So
soon as they had pointed out to Thorgunna the place assigned for her
bed, she opened the chest, and took forth such an embroidered bed
coverlid, and such a splendid and complete set of tapestry hangings, and
bed furniture of English linen, interwoven with silk, as had never been
seen in Iceland.

"Sell to me," said the covetous matron, "this fair bed furniture."

"Believe me," answered Thorgunna, "I will not lie upon straw in order to
feed thy pomp and vanity;" an answer which so greatly displeased Thurida
that she never again repeated her request. Thorgunna, to whose character
subsequent events added something of a mystical solemnity, is described
as being a woman of a tall and stately appearance, of a dark complexion,
and having a profusion of black hair. She was advanced in age; assiduous
in the labours of the field and of the loom; a faithful attendant upon
divine worship; grave, silent, and solemn in domestic society. She had
little intercourse with the household of Thorodd, and showed particular
dislike to two of its inmates. These were Thorer, who, having lost a leg
in the skirmish between Thorbiorn and Thorarin the Black, was called
Thorer-Widlegr (wooden-leg), from the substitute he had adopted; and his
wife, Thorgrima, called Galldra-Kinna (wicked sorceress), from her
supposed skill in enchantments. Kiartan, the son of Thurida, a boy of
excellent promise, was the only person of the household to whom
Thorgunna showed much affection; and she was much vexed at times when
the childish petulance of the boy made an indifferent return to her
kindness.

After this mysterious stranger had dwelt at Froda for some time, and
while she was labouring in the hay-field with other members of the
family, a sudden cloud from the northern mountain led Thorodd to
anticipate a heavy shower. He instantly commanded the hay-workers to
pile up in ricks the quantity which each had been engaged in turning to
the wind. It was afterwards remembered that Thorgunna did not pile up
her portion, but left it spread on the field. The cloud approached with
great celerity, and sank so heavily around the farm, that it was scarce
possible to see beyond the limits of the field. A heavy shower next
descended, and so soon as the clouds broke away and the sun shone forth
it was observed that it had rained blood. That which fell upon the ricks
of the other labourers soon dried up, but what Thorgunna had wrought
upon remained wet with gore. The unfortunate Hebridean, appalled at the
omen, betook herself to her bed, and was seized with a mortal illness.
On the approach of death she summoned Thorodd, her landlord, and
intrusted to him the disposition of her property and effects.

"Let my body," said she, "be transported to Skalholt, for my mind
presages that in that place shall be founded the most distinguished
church in this island. Let my golden ring be given to the priests who
shall celebrate my obsequies, and do thou indemnify thyself for the
funeral charges out of my remaining effects. To thy wife I bequeath my
purple mantle, in order that, by this sacrifice to her avarice, I may
secure the right of disposing of the rest of my effects at my own
pleasure. But for my bed, with its coverings, hangings, and furniture, I
entreat they may be all consigned to the flames. I do not desire this
because I envy any one the possession of these things after my death,
but because I wish those evils to be avoided which I plainly foresee
will happen if my will be altered in the slightest particular."

Thorodd promised faithfully to execute this extraordinary testament in
the most exact manner. Accordingly, so soon as Thorgunna was dead, her
faithful executor prepared a pile for burning her splendid bed. Thurida
entered, and learned with anger and astonishment the purpose of these
preparations. To the remonstrances of her husband she answered that the
menaces of future danger were only caused by Thorgunna's selfish envy,
who did not wish any one should enjoy her treasures after her decease.
Then, finding Thorodd inaccessible to argument, she had recourse to
caresses and blandishments, and at length extorted permission to
separate from the rest of the bed-furniture the tapestried curtains and
coverlid; the rest was consigned to the flames, in obedience to the will
of the testator. The body of Thorgunna, being wrapped in new linen and
placed in a coffin, was next to be transported through the precipices
and morasses of Iceland to the distant district she had assigned for her
place of sepulture. A remarkable incident occurred on the way. The
transporters of the body arrived at evening, late, weary, and drenched
with rain, in a house called Nether-Ness, where the niggard hospitality
of the proprietor only afforded them house-room, without any supply of
food or fuel. But, so soon as they entered, an unwonted noise was heard
in the kitchen of the mansion, and the figure of a woman, soon
recognised to be the deceased Thorgunna, was seen busily employed in
preparing victuals. Their inhospitable landlord, being made acquainted
with this frightful circumstance, readily agreed to supply every
refreshment which was necessary, on which the vision instantly
disappeared. The apparition having become public, they had no reason to
ask twice for hospitality as they proceeded on their journey, and they
came to Skalholt, where Thorgunna, with all due ceremonies of religion,
was deposited quietly in the grave. But the consequences of the breach
of her testament were felt severely at Froda.

The dwelling at Froda was a simple and patriarchal structure, built
according to the fashion used by the wealthy among the Icelanders. The
apartments were very large, and a part boarded off contained the beds of
the family. On either side was a sort of store-room, one of which
contained meal, the other dried fish. Every evening large fires were
lighted in this apartment for dressing the victuals; and the domestics
of the family usually sat around them for a considerable time, until
supper was prepared. On the night when the conductors of Thorgunna's
funeral returned to Froda, there appeared, visible to all who were
present, a meteor, or spectral appearance, resembling a half-moon, which
glided around the boarded walls of the mansion in an opposite direction
to the course of the sun, and continued to perform its revolutions until
the domestics retired to rest. This apparition was renewed every night
during a whole week, and was pronounced by Thorer with the wooden leg to
presage pestilence or mortality. Shortly after a herdsman showed signs
of mental alienation, and gave various indications of having sustained
the persecution of evil demons. This man was found dead in his bed one
morning, and then commenced a scene of ghost-seeing unheard of in the
annals of superstition. The first victim was Thorer, who had presaged
the calamity. Going out of doors one evening, he was grappled by the
spectre of the deceased shepherd as he attempted to re-enter the house.
His wooden leg stood him in poor stead in such an encounter; he was
hurled to the earth, and so fearfully beaten, that he died in
consequence of the bruises. Thorer was no sooner dead than his ghost
associated itself to that of the herdsman, and joined him in pursuing
and assaulting the inhabitants of Froda. Meantime an infectious disorder
spread fast among them, and several of the bondsmen died one after the
other. Strange portents were seen within-doors, the meal was displaced
and mingled, and the dried fish flung about in a most alarming manner,
without any visible agent. At length, while the servants were forming
their evening circle round the fire, a spectre, resembling the head of a
seal-fish, was seen to emerge out of the pavement of the room, bending
its round black eyes full on the tapestried bed-curtains of Thorgunna.
Some of the domestics ventured to strike at this figure, but, far from
giving way, it rather erected itself further from the floor, until
Kiartan, who seemed to have a natural predominance over these
supernatural prodigies, seizing a huge forge-hammer, struck the seal
repeatedly on the head, and compelled it to disappear, forcing it down
into the floor, as if he had driven a stake into the earth. This prodigy
was found to intimate a new calamity. Thorodd, the master of the family,
had some time before set forth on a voyage to bring home a cargo of
dried fish; but in crossing the river Enna the skiff was lost and he
perished with the servants who attended him. A solemn funeral feast was
held at Froda, in memory of the deceased, when, to the astonishment of
the guests, the apparition of Thorodd and his followers seemed to enter
the apartment dripping with water. Yet this vision excited less horror
than might have been expected, for the Icelanders, though nominally
Christians, retained, among other pagan superstitions, a belief that the
spectres of such drowned persons as had been favourably received by the
goddess Rana were wont to show themselves at their funeral feast. They
saw, therefore, with some composure, Thorodd and his dripping attendants
plant themselves by the fire, from which all mortal guests retreated to
make room for them. It was supposed this apparition would not be
renewed after the conclusion of the festival. But so far were their
hopes disappointed, that, so soon as the mourning guests had departed,
the fires being lighted, Thorodd and his comrades marched in on one
side, drenched as before with water; on the other entered Thorer,
heading all those who had died in the pestilence, and who appeared
covered with dust. Both parties seized the seats by the fire, while the
half-frozen and terrified domestics spent the night without either light
or warmth. The same phenomenon took place the next night, though the
fires had been lighted in a separate house, and at length Kiartan was
obliged to compound matters with the spectres by kindling a large fire
for them in the principal apartment, and one for the family and
domestics in a separate hut. This prodigy continued during the whole
feast of Jol. Other portents also happened to appal this devoted family:
the contagious disease again broke forth, and when any one fell a
sacrifice to it his spectre was sure to join the troop of persecutors,
who had now almost full possession of the mansion of Froda. Thorgrima
Galldrakinna, wife of Thorer, was one of these victims, and, in short,
of thirty servants belonging to the household, eighteen died, and five
fled for fear of the apparitions, so that only seven remained in the
service of Kiartan.

Kiartan had now recourse to the advice of his maternal uncle Snorro, in
consequence of whose counsel, which will perhaps appear surprising to
the reader, judicial measures were instituted against the spectres. A
Christian priest was, however, associated with Thordo Kausa, son of
Snorro, and with Kiartan, to superintend and sanctify the proceedings.
The inhabitants were regularly summoned to attend upon the inquest, as
in a cause between man and man, and the assembly was constituted before
the gate of the mansion, just as the spectres had assumed their wonted
station by the fire. Kiartan boldly ventured to approach them, and,
snatching a brand from the fire, he commanded the tapestry belonging to
Thorgunna to be carried out of doors, set fire to it, and reduced it to
ashes with all the other ornaments of her bed, which had been so
inconsiderately preserved at the request of Thurida. A tribunal being
then constituted with the usual legal solemnities, a charge was
preferred by Kiartan against Thorer with the wooden leg, by Thordo Kausa
against Thorodd, and by others chosen as accusers against the individual
spectres present, accusing them of molesting the mansion, and
introducing death and disease among its inhabitants. All the solemn
rites of judicial procedure were observed on this singular occasion;
evidence was adduced, charges given, and the cause formally decided. It
does not appear that the ghosts put themselves on their defence, so that
sentence of ejectment was pronounced against them individually in due
and legal form. When Thorer heard the judgment, he arose, and saying--

"I have sat while it was lawful for me to do so," left the apartment by
the door opposite to that at which the judicial assembly was
constituted. Each of the spectres, as it heard its individual sentence,
left the place, saying something which indicated its unwillingness to
depart, until Thorodd himself was solemnly called on to leave.

"We have here no longer," said he, "a peaceful dwelling, therefore will
we remove."

Kiartan then entered the hall with his followers, and the priest, with
holy water, and celebration of a solemn mass, completed the conquest
over the goblins, which had been commenced by the power and authority of
the Icelandic law.

THE LITTLE GLASS SHOE.

A peasant, named John Wilde, who lived in Rodenkirchen, found, one time,
a little glass shoe on one of the hills, where the little people used to
dance. He clapped it instantly in his pocket, and ran away with it,
keeping his hand as close on his pocket as if he had a dove in it, for
he knew he had found a treasure which the underground people must redeem
at any price.

Others say that John Wilde lay in ambush one night for the underground
people, and snatched an opportunity to pull off one of their shoes by
stretching himself there with a brandy bottle beside him, and acting
like one that was dead drunk, for he was a very cunning man, not over
scrupulous in his morals, and had taken in many a one by his craftiness,
and, on this account, his name was in no good repute among his
neighbours, who, to say the truth, were willing to have as little to do
with him as possible. Many hold, too, that he was acquainted with
forbidden acts, and used to carry on an intercourse with the fiends and
old women that raised storms, and such like.

However, be this as it may, when John had got the shoe he lost no time
in letting the folk that dwell under the ground know that he had it. At
midnight he went to the Nine-hills, and cried with all his might--

"John Wilde of Rodenkirchen has got a beautiful glass shoe. Who will buy
it? who will buy it?" for he knew that the little one who had lost the
shoe must go barefoot till he got it again; and that is no trifle, for
the little people have generally to walk upon very hard and stony
ground.

John's advertisement was speedily attended to. The little fellow who had
lost the shoe made no delay in setting about redeeming it. The first
free day he got that he might come out in the daylight, he came as a
respectable merchant, knocked at John Wilde's door, and asked if John
had not got a glass shoe to sell:

"For," says he, "they are an article now in great demand, and are sought
for in every market."

John replied that it was true that he had a very pretty little glass
shoe; but it was so small that even a dwarf's foot would be squeezed in
it, and that a person must be made on purpose to suit it before it could
be of use. For all that, it was an extraordinary shoe, a valuable shoe,
and a dear shoe, and it was not every merchant that could afford to pay
for it.

The merchant asked to see it, and when he had examined it--

"Glass shoes," said he, "are not by any means such rare articles, my
good friend, as you think here in Rodenkirchen, because you do not
happen to go much into the world. However," said he, after humming a
little, "I will give you a good price for it, because I happen to have
the very fellow of it."

He bid the countryman a thousand dollars for it.

"A thousand dollars are money, my father used to say when he drove fat
oxen to market," replied John Wilde, in a mocking tone; "but it will not
leave my hands for that shabby price, and, for my own part, it may
ornament the foot of my daughter's doll! Hark ye, my friend, I have
heard a sort of little song sung about the glass shoe, and it is not for
a parcel of dirt it will go out of my hands. Tell me now, my good
fellow, should you happen to know the knack of it, how in every furrow I
make when I am ploughing I may find a ducat? If not, the shoe is still
mine; and you may inquire for glass shoes at those other markets."

The merchant made still a great many attempts, and twisted and turned in
every direction to get the shoe; but when he found the farmer
inflexible, he agreed to what John desired, and swore to the performance
of it. Cunning John believed him, and gave him up the glass shoe, for he
knew right well with whom he had to do. So, the business being ended,
away went the merchant with his glass shoe.

Without a moment's delay John repaired to his stable, got ready his
horses and his plough, and went out to the field. He selected a piece of
ground where he would have the shortest turns possible, and began to
plough. Hardly had the plough turned up the first sod when up sprang a
ducat out of the ground, and it was the same with every fresh furrow he
made. There was now no end of his ploughing, and John Wilde soon bought
eight new horses, and put them into the stable to the eight he already
had, and their mangers were never without plenty of oats in them, that
he might be able every two hours to yoke two fresh horses, and so be
enabled to drive them the faster.

John was now insatiable in ploughing. Every morning he was out before
sunrise, and many a time he ploughed on till after midnight. Summer and
winter it was plough, plough with him ever-more, except when the ground
was frozen as hard as a stone. He always ploughed by himself, and never
suffered any one to go out with him, or to come to him when he was at
work, for John understood too well the nature of his crop to let people
see for what it was he ploughed so constantly.

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