Hauntings in the Old Norse-Icelandic Sagas
Miniature (detail) of the three dead kings in the De Lisle Psalter (c. 1308-1340). East Anglia. BL MS Arundel 83, fol. 127r
Introduction: The Paranormal in the Icelandic sagas
In the introduction to their recent collection of essays Paranormal Encounters in Iceland, 1150-1400 editors Ármann Jakobsson and Miriam Mayburd observe that while nineteenth-century scholarship tended to ignore the “fantastical elements” found in medieval Icelandic literature, “in the last decades of twentieth-century, the sagas have been reestablished as legitimate and valuable sources for mentalities and attitudes propagated in medieval Iceland, rendering debates of truth versus fiction obsolete as attention has shifted instead towards examining the complexities and multimodalities of medieval worldviews, imaginations, and cultural fabrics through which these narratives of unlikely fantastic experiences were filtered” (2). The volume’s focus on the paranormal, the editors point out, “puts the spotlight on features of medieval Icelandic narrative that may be often overlooked, or indeed looked down upon, by literary critics” and allows for examination of how paranormal beings “were perceived and narrated” through the “subjective experience of a community or an individual” (2-3). As the breadth of the collection shows, paranormal beings and experiences appear across a variety of genres in medieval Icelandic literature.
The narratives of hauntings found below are all sourced from the Íslendingasögur (Sagas of Icelanders), but paranormal beings and experiences can be found in hagiography (Heilagra manna and meyja sögur), the sagas of the Icelandic bishops (Biskupasögur), the sagas of kings (konungasögur), romances or sagas of knights (riddarasögur), stories of the ancient past (Fornaldarsögur), and stories of the present (Samtíðarsögur).
These encounters may relate different subjective experiences and reveal a variety of anxieties, but many also share a number of similarities (such as a focus on environmental or spiritual causes, their occurrence in the winter—especially at Yule or Christmas, the preparation for death and the rituals for burial, the persistence of behavior while living and into death, and the lasting effects of an encounter with the restless dead). Paranormal experiences could involve an animal (such as a seal coming through the floor in Eyrbyggja saga), a ghost or revenant, or some unidentified presence that haunts the landscape. In many of the sagas these hauntings last so long they seem endless and the land that is plagued by paranormal beings is often deserted or allowed to go to waste.
The paranormal beings commonly encountered in the Icelandic sagas are the draugr/“ghost” (15 citations in the Dictionary of Old Norse Prose), the aptrganga/“again-walker” (15 citations in the DONP), the haugbúi/“mound-dweller” (6 citations in the DONP), as well as trolls, giants, witches and sorcerers, and devils. Many of these beings might be described through the more general reimleikar/“hauntings” (12 citations in the DONP). It is important to observe that the draugr, the aptrganga, and the haugbúi are corporeal; though translators have at times translated each of these entities as “ghost,” this English word fails to indicate that each has bodily substance and can physically harm the living, animals, and the land.
It is only in recent decades that scholarship has attempted to understand what these episodes of hauntings might mean for readers, how they function in the narratives, how they should be interpreted, and what they might tell us about the cultural moment they preserve. Readers are encouraged to explore books like Paranormal Encounter in Iceland, the research of Kirsi Kanerva, and the other materials listed in the further reading section at the end of this post.
Here follows three stories of hauntings from medieval Iceland:
Eyrbyggja saga
AM 309 4to, Bæjarbók í Flóa, 34v. Eyrbyggja saga (1498)
The Saga of the People of Eyri was composed in the mid-thirteenth century, perhaps at the monastery at Helgafell. The saga recounts the stories of the people of Þórsnes, Eyri, and Álptafjörðr on the Snæfellsness peninsula. The feud between Snorri Goði (Snorri Þorgrímsson, 963-1031), who appears in a number of Icelandic sagas, and Arnkel Goði is the main focus of Eyrbyggja saga. The saga begins in 884 and ends in 1031, the year of Snorri’s death. The saga thus begins in the settlement era and concludes in the period not long after Iceland’s official conversion to Christianity. The saga also contains references to the Greenlandic colony and Vinland.
Three version of the saga are extant. One of the more significant witnesses was to be found in the 14th-century manuscript Vatnshyrnar, which was lost in fire at the University of Copenhagen Library in 1728. Fortunately, copies of Vatnshyrnar exist.
Translation from Herman Pálsson and Paul Edwards Eyrbyggja saga (Penguin Classics)
Chapter 33:
Snorri goði started making use of Krakaness Wood and felled a good many trees there. Thorolf Twist-Foot (bægifót) thought he was ruining the wood and rode down to Helgafell to ask Snorri for the wood back, claiming that he had only leased it to Snorri, not given it away. Snorri said the matter could easily be settled, since all they needed was to ask the people who had witnessed their agreement; but unless their testimony went against him, he would refuse to hand over the woodland.
After that Thorolf went off in a rage. He rode east to Bolstad to see his son Arnkel, who gave his father a good welcome and asked why he had come.
“I’ve come to see you because I’m unhappy we’re not getting on so well together,” said Thorolf. “I’d like us to set things right, and be friends again as we ought. It’s wrong for us to be feuding like this. It seems to me the two of us could be the top men in the district, what with your courage and my cunning.”
“I’d be a lot happier myself if we were on better terms,” said Arnkel.
“This is what I’d like us to do,” said Thorolf. “Let’s start our new friendship and confirm our reconciliation by claiming Krakaness Wood from Snorri goði. There’s nothing I hate more than the way he lords it over us, and now he won’t give me back the ownership of that woodland. He even claims I gave it to him as a present, and that’s a downright lie.”
“It wasn’t out of friendship towards me that you gave Snorri the wood,” said Arnkel, “and I’m not going to let your malicious tongue talk me into fighting him over it. I know well enough that he has no legal right to it, but I won’t have you and your ugly disposition gloating over any quarrel between me and Snorri.”
“I can think of another reason,” said Thorolf. “It’s your cowardly heart that’s to blame, not the pleasure, which you grudge me, of seeing you two fight it out.”
“Think whatever you like,” said Arnkel, “I’m starting no quarrel with Snorri over this woodland.”
With that they parted. Thorolf went back home in a rage, for he could see how difficult it was going to be for him to get what he wanted. It was evening when he reached home, and he sat down on the high-seat without uttering a word to anybody. He ate nothing all evening and stayed in his seat when the rest of the household went to bed. In the morning, when they got up Thorolf was still setting there, dead.
Thorolf’s widow sent someone to Arnkel to tell him his father had died, so Arnkel rode over to Hvamm with some of his servants. When they got there, his father was still sitting on the high-seat, and Arnkel went to make sure he was really dead. Everyone in the house was numb with terror, his death was so gruesome. When Arnkel went into the living-room he crossed the hall to get behind Thorolf, warning people to take care not to pass in front of the corpse until the eyes had been closed. He took Thorolf by the shoulders but had to use all his strength before he could force him down. After that he wrapped some clothes around Thorolf’s head and got him ready for burial according to the custom of the time. He had a hole broken through the wall behind Thorolf, and the corpse was dragged outside. After a yoke of oxen had been hitched to a sled. Arnkel laid Thorolf on it, and they began driving it up through Thorsardale. It was hard work hauling Thorolf to his burial-place. When they got him there, they built a solid cairn over him.
After that Arnkel went back to Hvamm and took over all his father’s possessions. He stayed for three days, and while he was there, nothing unusual happened. Then he went back home.
Chapter 34:
After Thorolf died, a good many people found it more and more unpleasant to stay out of doors once the sun had begun to go down. As the summer wore on, it became clear that Thorolf wasn’t lying quiet, for after sunset no one out of doors was left in peace. There was another thing, too: the oxen which had been used to haul Thorolf’s body were ridden to death by demons, and every beast that came near his grave went out of its mind and howled itself to death. The shepherd at Hvamm often came running home after Thorolf came after him. One day that autumn neither sheep nor shepherd came back to the farm, and next morning, when a search was made for him, the shepherd was found dead not far from Thorolf’s grave, his corpse coal-black, and every bone in his body broke. They buried him near to Thorolf. All the sheep in the valley were found dead, and the rest that had strayed into the mountains were never seen again. Any bird that happened to land on Thorolf’s cairn dropped dead on the spot. All this grew so troublesome that no one would risk using the valley for grazing any longer.
At night the people of Hvamm would hear loud noises from outside, and it often sounded as if there was somebody sitting astride the roof. That winter, Thorolf often appeared on the farm, haunting his widow most of all. A lot of people suffered badly from it, but she was almost driven out of her wits, and eventually the strain of it killed her. Her body was taken up to Thorsardale to be buried beside Thorolf’s cairn, and after the people of Hvamm abandoned the farm.
Thorolf now began haunting the whole valley, and most of the farms were abandoned because of it. His ghost was so malignant that it killed people and others had to run for their lives. All those who died were later seen in his company.
Everyone complained about this reign of terror and thought it was Arnkel’s business to put a stop to it. Those who thought themselves safer with Arnkel than anywhere else were invited to stay at his farm, as Thorolf and his retinue causes no harm when Anrkel was around. As the winter wore on, people grew so scared of Thorolf’s ghost, they were too frightened to travel, no matter how urgent their business.
So the winter passed. Spring brought fine weather; and when all the frost in the ground had thawed, Arnkel sent a messenger over to Karsstad asking the Thorbrandssons to come and help him carry Thorolf away from Thorsardale and find him another resting-place. It was the law in those days, just as it is now, that everybody must help bury the dead if asked to give assistance. All the same, when word reached the Thorbrandssons they said they had no reason to help Arnkel and his men out of their troubles. But their father Thorbrand said, “You ought to do whatever the law requires. You must not refuse to do what you’ve been asked.”
So Thorodd said to the messenger, “go and tell Arnkel that I’ll stand in for my brothers. I’ll go up to Ulfar’s Fell and meet him there.”
The messenger went back and told Anrkel. He got ready at once and set out with eleven men, a few oxen, and some tools for digging. First they went up to Ulfar’s Fell, where Thorodd Thorbrandsson joined them with two more men, then they all travelled together across the ridge into Thorsardale and up to Thorolf’s cairn. When they broke into the cairn they saw his body was uncorrupted and very ugly to look at. They pulled him out of the grave, laid him on the sled, hitched up the powerful pair of oxen, and hauled him up as far as Ulfarsfell Ridge. By then the oxen were so exhausted they had to get another yoke of them to haul the corpse west along the ridge. Anrkel wanted to take Thorolf all the way to Vadilshofdi and bury him there, but when they came to the end of the ridge, the oxen panicked and borke loose. They ran down the ridge, then north by the hillside, past the farmstead at Ulfar’s Fell, and so down to the sea, where they both collapsed. By now Thorolf had grown so heavy that men could hardly shift him, but they managed to drag him up to a small knoll nearby, and there they buried him. This place has been known as Twist-Foot’s knoll ever since. After that Arnkel had a wall built right across the knoll just behind the grave, so hight that only a bird in flight could get over it, and here Thorolf rested quietly enough as long as Arnkel lived. You can still see the traces of the wall.
Chapter 50:
In the summer that Christianity was adopted by law in Iceland, a ship from Dublin put in at Snæfell Ness. Most of the crew came from Ireland and the Hebrides, but there were some Norwegians too. They lay at Rif for a good part of the summer, then with a fair widn sailed up the fjord to Dogurdar Ness, where a number of people from the neighborhood came to trade with them.
There was a Hebridean woman on board called Thorgunna, and the crew said she had some with valuable things with her, difficult to get in Iceland. Whn Thurid of Frodriver heard about it, she was very keen to see all this finery, for she was a vain woman and extremely fond of elegant clothes and rich adornment. She travelled to the ship to see Thorgunna and asked if she had something very special in ladies’ clothing. Thorgunna said she had nothing for sale, but added that she had plenty of fine things to wear herself, so that she had no need to feel ashamed to go to feasts and other gatherings. Thurid asked her to show her her things. Thorgunna did so, and Thurid thought them attractive and tastefully made, but not particularly expensive. Thurid made an offer for them, but Thorgunna refused to sell. Then Thurid invited her to come and stay with her, for she kept thinking about all the fine things she had seen, and hoping she she could get them from her later on.
“Yes, I’d like to stay with you,” said Thorgunna. “But there’s something you should know. I’m not all that keen to pay cash for my board and lodging. I’m still a strong woman, and I don’t mind working as long as I don’t have to do heavy work. But I’ll make up my own mind about much of my money I pay out.”
Thorgunna spoke very stiffly, but that didn’t prevent Thurid from urging here to come and stay with her, so Thorgunna had her baggage put ashore, a heavy trunk which she kept locked, and a lighter one, and both were taken to Frodriver. As soon as she arrived, she asked to be shown to her bed, and was given a place in the inner part of the main room. She opened the big chest and took from it a set of bedclothes, beautifully made. She spread English sheets on here bed, laid a silk-covered quilt on top, then took bed-curtains from the chest and a canopy as well. It was all so marvelous, no one could remember having ever seen anything like it.
“How much would you take for the whole set?” asked Thurdid.
“I don’t care how refined and ladylike you are,” said Thorgunna, “I’m not going to sleep on bare straw just to satisfy you.”
Thurid was far from pleased about this, and it was the last time she offered to buy Thorgunna’s things from her.
Thorgunna spent every day weaving, unless there was haymaking to do, and when the weather was good, she used to work at drying the hay in the home meadow. She had a special rake made for her which she let no one else touch. Thorgunna was a massive woman, tall, broad-built, and getting very stout. She had dark eyebrows and narrow eyes, and beautiful chestnut hair. Her manner was always very proper, and she used to go to Mass every morning before starting work, but she was hard to get on with and wasted little time on conversation. People thought she must be in her fifties, though she was a woman who still had a lot of life in her.
By this time Thorir Wood-Leg and his wife Thorgrima Witch-Face had come to live at Frodriver, and soon there was a trouble between them and Thorgunna. Kjartan the farmer’s son was the only one there Thorgunna took to, and she liked him a lot, but he kept his distance, which she found extremely irritating. Kjartan was thirteen or fourteen at the time, a big lad, and very manly.
Chapter 51:
The summer was wet, but there were good drying spells in the autumn once the home meadow at Frodriver had been mown, and nearly half of the hay was fully dry. One day was ideal for drying, calm and clear, with not a cloud in sight. Thorodd was up early that morning and arranged the work for the day. Some of the farmhands were to cart the hay home and others to stack it. He told the women to help with the drying of the hay, and shared out the work between them. Thorgunna was given as much hay to dry as would have been winter fodder for an ox.
Everything went smoothly to begin with, but in the early afternoon a black cloud began to form in the north, just above Skor, and soon it swept across the sky, making straight for the farmstead. It looked as if the cloud would bring rain, and Thorodd told them to start stacking the hay, but Thorgunna kept turning hers as hard as she could, and refused to begin stacking it even though she had been told to. The dark cloud raced across the sky, and when it was just over the farmstead at Frodriver, things were so overcast they could see nothing beyond the meadow, and hardly an arm’s length inside it. After that there was such a heavy cloudburst that all the hay on the ground was drenched. The cloud vanished suddenly, and when the weather cleared up again, they saw that the shower had been one of blood.
In the evening there was a fine drying-spell, and the blood dried quickly, except on the hay that Thorgunna had spread. Neither this nor the rake she had used would dry.
Thorodd asked Thorgunna what this omen could mean, but she said she couldn’t tell. “Most likely it forebodes the death of someone here,” she said.
Thorgunna went home in the evening straight to bed. She took off the blood-soaked clothes she was wearing, lay down on the bed and gave a heavy sigh. People could see that she had been taken ill. The shower had fallen nowhere else, only on Frodriver. Thorgunna refused food that evening. Next morning Thorodd went to see her about her illness and find out when she thought she might be feeling better. She said she believed this illness would be her last.
“I’ve found you to be the most sensible person here,” she said, “and that’s why I’m telling you what to do with the things I leave behind. You may not think much of me, but everything I tell you will turn out exactly as I say, and nothing good will come of it if you don’t follow my wishes. The first omen is a clear indication that something serious is bound to happen unless every step is taken to prevent it.”
“You’re probably not far from the truth,” said Thorodd. “I promise to follow all your instructions.”
“Here’s what I want,” said Thorgunna. “Should I die of this illness I want my body taken to Skalholt, because something tells me it will soon be the most venerated place in the land. I know there are priests there to sing Mass for me as well, and that’s why I want you to take me there. In return you can have sufficient of my belongings to repay you handsomely for all your trouble, but before you start dividing up my property, Thurid is to have the scarlet cloak. I’m doing this to make her less unhappy about the disposal of the rest of my things. Next, out of all the things I’m leaving you, take whatever you and your wife want most, to cover your expenses. There’s a gold ring of mine which must be given to the church: but my bed and all its furnishings I want burnt to ashes, for they’ll never do anyone much good. I’m not saying this because I grudge these things to anyone who could use them, but I must be firm about it. I wouldn’t like the be responsible for all the trouble people will bring on themselves if they don’t respect my wishes.”
Thorodd promised to do all that she had asked him. Soon after, her illness took a turn for the worse and she lingered on only a few days before she died.
The body was taken to church and Thorodd had a coffin made for it. Next day he carried the bedclothes outside, gathered some firewood, and made a bonfire. When his wife Thurid came and asked what he was up to, he said he was going to burn them, just as Thorgunna had asked.
“If I have my way,” she said, “I’m not having you burn valuable stuff like this.”
“She meant every word when she said it wouldn’t do to ignore her warning,” said Thorodd.
“It only goes to show what an envious woman she was,” said Thurid. “She was too mean to let anyone else enjoy them, and that’s why she told you to do it. Whatever we decide to do, I can’t see the harm can come of it.”
“I don’t think ignoring her wishes will do us much good,” he said.
But Thurid put her arms around his neck and begged him not to burn the bed-furnishings. She kept pleading with him until he agreed to only destroy the eiderdown and the pillows, while Thurid took the quilt, the bed-curtains, and the canopy. All the same, neither of them felt happy about it. After that they got ready to send the corpse to burial.
For the journey Thorodd chose men he could rely on and gave them his best horses. The corpse was wrapped in an unstitched linen shroud and laid in a coffin. They set off, taking the usual route south across the moor, and nothing much happened on their journey till they came south of Valbjarnarvellir. As they crossed the sodden moorland there, the pack-horse kept throwing off the coffin. On they went, south to the Nordur River, and crossed it at Eyjar Ford through very deep water. The weather was squally with sleet and heavy rain. Eventually they came to a farm called Nether Ness in Stafholtstungur and asked to stay the night, but the farmer refused to give them hospitality. It was getting very late, and they thought they could go no further, as it seemed unwise to risk fording the Hvit River at night, so they unloaded the horses, carried the coffin into a storehouse near the door, walked into the living-room, and took off their clothes, intending to spend the night there, without food if necessary.
The household went to bed before it grew dark. They hadn’t been long in their beds when they hear load noises coming from the larder, and some of them went to see if thieves had broken into the house. When they came to the larder, there was a tall woman, stark naked, not a stitch of clothing on her, getting a meal ready. The people of the household were too scared when they saw her to come anywhere near. As soon as the corpse-bearers heard about it, they went to see for themselves what was going on. The woman was Thorgunna, and everyone thought it best to leave her in peace. When she had finished doing what she wanted in the larder, she carried the food into the living-room, laid the table, and served the meal.
“Before we part, you may end up very sorry that you didn’t treat us more hospitably,” said the corpse-bearers to the farmer.
“We’ll gladly give you food and anything else you need,” said the farmer and his wife.
And as soon as the farmer had made them welcome, Thorgunna walked out of the room and didn’t reappear.
Now a lamp was lit in the living-room, and the travelers were helped out of their wet clothes and given dry things. They sat down at table and made the sign of the cross over the food, and the farmer had every corner of the house sprinkled with holy water. The travelers ate their food, and it did them no harm at all, even thought it had been prepared Thorgunna. They spent a very comfortable night there.
In the morning they got ready to be on their way, and the rest of the journey went without a hitch. Everyone who heard what had happened at the first farm thought it best give them all they asked for, and nothing else happened on the journey. They came to Skalholt and handed over the precious gifts Thorgunna had left for the church there, which the priests accepted with pleasure. So Thorgunna was buried, and the corpse-bearers set off home. They had and easy journey and got back safely.
Chapter 52:
The farm at Frodriver had a large living-room with a bed-closet behind it, as was usual in those days. In front of the living-room there were two stone-rooms on either side of the door, one for dried fish and the other for flour. They used to have a great fire burning in the living-room every evening, and people would sit beside it for hours on end before they had their evening meal.
The evening the corpse-bearers came back, the people at Frodriver were sitting by the fireside when they saw a half-moon appear on the paneled wall. Everyone could see it. The moon kept circling around the room, backing form left to right, and stayed in sight as long as people remained at the fire.
Thorodd asked Thorir Wood-Leg what it meant, and Thorir said it was a fatal moon. “There’ll be deaths here,” he added.
It went on like this for a whole week; every evening the same weird moon appeared in the living-room.
Chapter 53:
The next thing to happen was that the shepherd came home one day, badly shaken. He had little to say, but when he did speak, he was very ill-tempered. He fought shy of other people and kept muttering to himself, so everyone thought he must have been bewitched. This went on for some time. When two weeks of winter had passed, he came home one evening, went straight to bed and lay down. Next morning, when people went to see him they found him dead. He was buried at the church there, and not long afterwards massive hauntings began at the place.
One night Thorir Wood-Leg went out to the privy to ease himself, and when he was on his way back to the house, he saw the shepherd standing in front of the door. Thorir tried to get inside, but the shepherd barred his way. Thorir began walking away, but the shepherd came after him, picked him up, and threw him against the door. This gave Thorir a nasty shock and a good many bruises, but he struggled back to bed. Later he became ill, then died, and was buried at the church there. After that, the pair of them, Thorir Wood-Leg and the shepherd, were often seen together. AS you might expect, people were terrified.
After Thorir’s death, one of Thorodd’s farm-hands fell ill. He lay in bed for three days, and then he died. Soon people started dying one after another, six of them in all. This was just about the beginning of Advent, but those days people in Iceland didn’t observe the fast.
The store-room was stacked so full with dried fish that the door would hardly open. The pile of fish went right up to the cross-beam, and people had to use a ladder to get at it from above. Then things started happening. Night after night, as people were sitting at the fire, they could hear something tearing at the dried fish, but when they went to look, not a living thing could they see there.
That winter, shortly before Christmas, Thorodd went out to Ness to get more dried fish for himself. There were six of them together in a ten-oared boat, and they spent the night at Ness. In the evening, after Thorodd had gone and the fire had been lit, people came into the living-room and saw a seal’s head coming up through the floor. One of the servants was the first to notice this as she came in. She grabbed a club in the doorway and hit the seal on the head. Which only made it rise up out of the ground a little more. Then it turned its eyes towards the canopy from Thorgunna’s bed. One of the farm-hands came up and started hitting the seal, but it kept rising further up with every blow, until its flippers emerged. At that the man fainted, and everyone was paralyzed with horror, except for young Kjartan, who rushed up with a sledge-hammer and struck the seal on the head. It was a powerful blow, but the seal only shook its head and gazed around. Kjartan went on hammering the head and driving it down like a nail into the floor until the seal disappeared, then he flattened out the floor above its head. Throughout the winter it was always the same story, Kjartan was the only one who could put fear into the ghosts.
Chapter 54:
Next morning Thorodd and his men put out from Ness with their dried fish, and they were all drowned off Enni. The boat and the fish were washed ashore there, but the bodies were never found.
When the news came to Frodriver, Kjartan and Thurid invited their neighbors to a funeral feast, at which they used the Christmas ale. One the first evening of the feast, when all the guests were seated, Thorodd and his companions came into the room drenched to the skin. Everyone welcomed Thorodd and his men, and thought this a happy omen because in those days it was believed that drowned people had been well received by the sea-goddess, Ran, if they came to their own funeral feast. At that time a good many heathen beliefs still prevailed, though people were baptized and supposed to be Christians. Thorodd and his men walked across the main room, which had two doors, and into the living-room. They ignored the greetings people gave them and sat down at the fire. The people ran out of the living-room, but Thorodd and his men stayed on until the first began to burn very low, then went away. As long as the funeral feast lasted this continued: every evening the drowned men would come to the fire. It gave people at the feast plenty to talk about, but some of them thought it would stop once the feast was over.
After the feasts all the guests went back home and the place seemed rather dull without them. In the evening after the guests had gone the fire in the living-room was lit as usual, and as soon as it was ablaze, Thorodd and his companions came in, all of them soaking wet. They sat down at the fire and began squeezing the water out of their clothes. No sooner had they taken their seats than Thorir Wood-Leg and his six companions came into the room, all of them covered with earth. They started shaking the dirt out of their clothes and throwing mud at Thorodd and his men. The people ran out of the room, as you would expect, and that evening they had to do without light, heating-stones, and everything the fire provided. Next evening they lit a fire in another room, hoping the dead men would not come there, but things turned out otherwise. Everything happened just as before, and both parties came to sit by the fire. On the third evening, Kjartan suggested they should light a long-fire in the living room, and another in a separate room for the household, so they tried that. As it turned out, Thorodd and the other dead men came and sat at the long-fire, while the living sat at the smaller one, and so it continued throughout the Christmas season.”
By that time noises from the fish-pile had gown much louder, and day and night people could hear the fish being torn up. Soon the time came for the fish to be eaten, and they had a look at the pile. Someone got on top of it and saw a tail sticking out. It had the look of a singed ox-tail, but was covered in short seal-hair. The man on the stack took hold of it. First he tried to pull it out himself, then called for others to come and help him. Several people, men and women, joined him on the stack and kept pulling at the tail, but they couldn’t budge it an inch. Everybody thought the tail was dead, but as they were struggling to get it out, the tail tore right through their hands, and the skin was ripped off the palms of those who had been clearing the fish out of the store-room, and when they got down into the pile, they saw that all the meat had been torn off the fish and only the skins left behind, but no sign of a living creature in it anywhere.
Shortly afterwards Thorgrima With-Face, Thorir Wood-Leg’s widow, fell ill, and after a short spell in bed she died. On the very ending of her burial she was seen in her husband’s company. Then the sickness that had been raging when the hairy tail had made its first appearance broke out again, this time killing more women than men. Six people died one after another, and the hauntings and night-walkings drover others away from the farm. There had been thirty servants there in the autumn, but eighteen of them died, five more ran away, and by midwinter there were only seven of them.
Chapter 55:
After these weird events had been going on for some time, Kjartan set off one day over to Helgafell to see his uncle Snorri and ask his advice about what should be done to put an end to them. At that time there was a priest staying at Helgafell, sent to Snorri by Gizur the White. Snorri asked the young priest to go with Kjartan to Frodriver along with his son Thord the Cat and six other people. They must burn the canopy from Thorgunna’s bed, said Snorri, and then summon all the dead to a door-court. After that the priest was to sing Mass, consecrate water, and hear people’s confessions. They rode over to Frodriver, and on the way there they asked the neighbors to come with them.
It was Candlemass Eve when they came to Frodriver, and the fire had just been lit. Thurid had been taken with the same illness as those who had died. Kjartan went straight into the living-room and saw Thorodd and the other dead people sitting by the fire as usual. He pulled down the canopy from Thorgunna’s bed, plucked a brand from the fire, then went out and burnt to ashes all the bed-furnishings that had once belonged to Thorgunna.
Next Kjartan summoned Thorir Wood-Leg, and Thord the Cat summoned Thorodd for trespassing on the house and robbing people of life and health. All the dead ones at the fire were summoned in the same way. Then the door-court was held and charges made, the proper procedure of ordinary lawcourts being observed throughout. The jury was appointed, testimony was taken, and the cases were summed up and referred for judgment. As sentence was being passed on Thorir Wood-Leg, he rose to his feet, “I sat here as long as people would let me,” he said, then went on throughout the other door where the court was not being held.
After that, sentence was passed on the shepherd, and he stood up. “I’ll go no,” he said, “and it seems I should have gone sooner.”
When Thorgrima Witch-Face heard her sentence, she stood up, too. “I stayed as long as you let me,” she said.
So they were all sentenced one after another; and as they were sentenced, they got up, made some such remark, and left the room. It was clear that none of them wanted to go.
Thorodd was the last to be sentenced. When he heard the judgment, he stood up. “There’s no peace here,” he said, “we’d best all be on our way.” And with that he walked out.
Then Kjartan and the others went back inside, and the priest carried holy water and sacred relics to every corner of the house. Next day he sang all the prayers and celebrated Mass with great solemnity, and there were no more dead men haunting Frodriver after that. Thurid began to improve and got well again. In the spring after all these strange events Kjartan engaged new servants. He farmed at Frodriver for a long time, and people thought him a very courageous man.
Laxdæla saga
Möðruvallabók: AM 132 fol. (c. 1330-70), 156r, Laxdæla saga
Laxdæla saga was composed in the mid-thirteenth century (c. 1230-60) and recounts the events of about 200 years that take place in the Breiðafjörður area (especially Dalir) in western Iceland. The saga begins with the Ketill flatnefr (Flat-Nose), who was forced to flee Norway by King Harald the Fair-Hair (a common motif in the Icelandic sagas). The feuds of Ketill’s children and their descendants and the love triangle between Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir and the friends Kjartan Ólafsson and Bolli Þorleiksson are the main focus of the saga.
From the 1880 translation into English by Muriel A. C. Press
Chapter 17:
The tale is told of Hrapp that he became most violent in his behaviour, and did his neighbours such harm that they could hardly hold their own against him. But from the time that Olaf grew up Hrapp got no hold of Thord. Hrapp had the same temper, but his powers waned, in that old age was fast coming upon him, so that he had to lie in bed. Hrapp called Vigdis, his wife, to him, and said, "I have never been of ailing health in life," said he, "and it is therefore most likely that this illness willput an end to our life together. Now, when I am dead, I wish my grave to be dug in the doorway of my fire hall, and that I be put: thereinto, standing there in the doorway; then I shall be able to keep a more searching eye on my dwelling." After that Hrapp died, and all was done as he said, for Vigdis did not dare do otherwise. And as evil as he had been to deal with in his life, just so he was by a great deal more when he was dead, for he walked again a great deal after he was dead. People said that he killed most of his servants in his ghostly appearances. He caused a great deal of trouble to those who lived near, and the house of Hrappstead became deserted. Vigdis, Hrapp's wife, betook herself west to Thorstein Swart, her brother. He took her and her goods in. And now things went as before, in that men went to find Hoskuld, and told him all the troubles that Hrapp was doing to them, and asked him to do something to put an end to this. Hoskuld said this should be done, and he went with some men to Hrappstead, and has Hrapp dug up, and taken away to a place near to which cattle were least likely to roam or men to go about. After that Hrapp's walkings-again abated somewhat. Sumarlid, Hrapp's son, inherited all Hrapp's wealth, which was both great and goodly. Sumarlid set up household at Hrappstead the next spring; but after he had kept house there for a little time he was seized of frenzy, and died shortly afterwards. Now it was the turn of his mother, Vigdis, totake there alone all this wealth; but as she would not go to the estate of Hrappstead, Thorstein Swart took all the wealth to himself to take care of. Thorstein was by then rather old, though still one of the most healthy and hearty of men.
Chapter 24:
Olaf and Thorgerd lived at Hoskuldstead and loved each other very dearly; it was easily seen by every one that she was a woman of very high mettle, though she meddled little with every-day things, but whatever Thorgerd put her hand to must be carried through as she wished. Olaf and Thorgerd spent that winter turn and turn about at Hoskuldstead, or with Olaf's foster-father. In the spring Olaf took over the household business at Goddistead. The following summer Thord fell ill, and the illness ended in his death. Olaf had a cairn raised over him on the ness that runs out into the Salmon-river and is called Drafn-ness, with a wall round which is called Howes-garth. After that liegemen crowded to Olaf and he became a great chieftain. Hoskuld was not envious of this, for he always wished that Olaf should be consulted in all great matters. The place Olaf owned was the stateliest in Salmon-river-Dale. There were two brothers with Olaf, both named An. One was called An the White and the other An the Black. They had a third brother who was named Beiner the Strong. These were Olaf's smiths, and very valiant men. Thorgerd and Olaf had a daughter who was named Thurid. The land that Hrapp had owned all lay waste, as has been told before. Olaf thought that it laywell and set before his father his wishes on the matter; how they should send down to Trefill with this errand, that Olaf wished to buy the land and other things thereto belonging at Hrappstead. It was soon arranged and the bargain settled, for Trefill saw that better was one crow in the hand than two in the wood. The bargain arranged was that Olaf should give three marks of silver for the land; yet that was not fair price, for the lands were wide and fair and very rich in useful produce, such as good salmon fishing and seal catching. There were wide woods too, a little further up than Hoskuldstead, north of the Salmon-river, in which was a space cleared, and it was well-nigh a matter of certainty that the flocks of Olaf would gather together there whether the weather was hard or mild. One autumn it befell that on that same hill Olaf had built a dwelling of the timber that was cut out of the forest, though some he got together from drift-wood strands. This was a very lofty dwelling. The buildings stood empty through the winter. The next spring Olaf went thither and first gathered together all his flocks which had grown to be a great multitude; for, indeed, no man was richer in live stock in all Broadfirth. Olaf now sent word to his father that he should be standing out of doors and have a look at his train as he was moving to his new home, and should give him his good wishes. Hoskuld said so it should be. Olaf now arranged how it should be done. He ordered that all the shiest of his cattle should be driven first and then the milking live stock, then came the dry cattle, and the pack horses came in the last place; and men were ranged with the animals to keep them from straying out of straight line. When the van of the train had got to the new homestead, Olaf was just riding out of Goddistead and there was nowhere a gap breaking the line. Hoskuld stood outside his door together with those of his household. Then Hoskuld spake, bidding Olaf his son welcome and abide all honour to this new dwelling of his, "And somehow my mind forebodes me that this will follow, that for a long time his name will be remembered." Jorunn his wife said, "Wealth enough the slave's son has got for his name to be long remembered." At the moment that the house-carles had unloaded the pack horses Olaf rode into the place. Then he said, "Now you shall have your curiosity satisfied with regard to what you have been talking about all the winter, as to what this place shall be called; it shall be called Herdholt." Every one thought this a very happy name, in view of what used to happen there. Olaf now sets up his household at Herdholt, and a stately one it soon became, and nothing was lacking there. And now the honour of Olaf greatly increased, there being many causes to bring it about: Olaf was the most beloved of men, for whatever he had to do with affairs of men, he did so that all were well contented with their lot. His father backed him up very much towards being a widely honoured man, and Olaf gained much in power from his alliance with the Mere-men. Olaf was considered the noblest of all Hoskuld's sons. The first winter that Olaf kept house at Herdholt, he had many servants and workmen, and work was divided amongst the house-carles; one looked after the dry cattle and another after the cows. The fold was out in the wood, some way from the homestead. One evening the man who looked after the dry cattle came to Olaf and asked him to make some other man look after the neat and "set apart for me some other work." Olaf answered, "I wish you to go on with this same work of yours." The man said he would sooner go away. "Then you think there is something wrong," said Olaf. "I will go this evening with you when you do up the cattle, and if I think there is any excuse for you in this I will say nothing about it, but otherwise you will find that your lot will take some turn for the worse." Olaf took his gold-set spear, the king's gift, in his hand, and left home, and with him the house-carle. There was some snow on the ground. They came to the fold, which was open, and Olaf bade the house-carle go in. "I will drive up the cattle and you tie them up as they come in." The house-carle went to the fold-door. And all unawares Olaf finds him leaping into his open arms. Olaf asked why he went on so terrified? He replied, "Hrapp stands in the doorway of the fold, and felt after me, but I have had my fill of wrestling with him." Olaf went to the folddoor and struck at him with his spear. Hrapp took the socket of the spear in both hands and wrenched it aside, so that forthwith the spear shaft broke. Olaf was about to run at Hrapp but he disappeared there where he stood, and there they parted, Olaf having the shaft and Hrapp the spear-head. After that Olaf and the house-carle tied up the cattle and went home. Olaf saw the house-carle was not to blame for his grumbling. The next morning Olaf went to where Hrapp was buried and had him dug up. Hrapp was found undecayed, and there Olaf also found his spear-head. After that he had a pyre made and had Hrapp burnt on it, and his ashes were flung out to sea. After that no one had any more trouble with Hrapp's ghost.
Grettis saga
The Mound-Dweller Kárr seizes Grettir. Henry Justice Ford’s illustration for Andrew Lang’s Book of Romance, vol. IV (1902)
The middle and main part of Grettis saga recounts the exploits of the Icelander Grettis Ásmundarson, his nearly twenty years spent as an outlaw, and his violent death on Drangey. The saga was composed in the fourteenth century and perhaps as late as 1400. The opening thirteen chapters of the saga tell the story of Grettir’s great-grandfather Önund Tree-Foot; the final eight chapters follow the life of Grettir’s half-brother Thorstein Dromund, who avenges Grettir in Constantinople. Grettis saga is permeated with fantastical and supernatural episodes, and Grettir overcomes numerous paranormal beings throughout his life.
The following excerpts are of two of Grettir’s encounters, the first with Kárr the haugbúi (“mound-dweller) and the second with Glámr the draugr (“revenant”).
Taken from the 1900 translation into English by William Morris & Eirikr Magnusson
Chapter 18:
Now the lord who dwelt in the island was called Thorfinn; he was the son of Karr the Old, who had dwelt there long; and Thorfinn was a great chief.
But when day was fully come men saw from the island that the chapmen were brought to great straits. This was made known to Thorfinn, and he quickly bestirred himself, and had a large bark of his launched, rowed by sixteen men, on this bark were nigh thirty men in all; they came up speedily and saved the chapmen's wares; but the ship settled down, and much goods were lost there. Thorfinn brought all men from the ship home to himself, and they abode there a week and dried their wares. Then the chapmen went south into the land, and are now out of the tale.
Grettir was left behind with Thorfinn, and little he stirred, and was at most times mighty short of speech. Thorfinn bade give him meals, but otherwise paid small heed to him; Grettir was loth to follow him, and would not go out with him in the day; this Thorfinn took ill, but had not the heart to have food withheld from him.
Now Thorfinn was fond of stately house-keeping, and was a man of great joyance, and would fain have other men merry too: but Grettir would walk about from house to house, and often went into other farms about the island.
There was a man called Audun who dwelt at Windham; thither Grettir went every day, and he made friends with Audun, and there he was wont to sit till far on in the day. Now one night very late, as Grettir made ready to go home, he saw a great fire burst out on a ness to the north of Audun's farm. Grettir asked what new thing this might be. Audun said that he need be in no haste to know that.
"It would be said," quoth Grettir, "if that were seen in our land, that the flame burned above hid treasure."
The farmer said, "That fire I deem to be ruled over by one into whose matters it avails little to pry."
"Yet fain would I know thereof," said Grettir.
"On that ness," said Audun, "stands a barrow, great and strong, wherein was laid Karr the Old, Thorfinn's father; at first father and son had but one farm in the island; but since Karr died he has so haunted this place that he has swept away all farmers who owned lands here, so that now Thorfinn holds the whole island; but whatsoever man Thorfinn holds his hand over, gets no scathe."
Grettir said that he had told his tale well: "And," says he, "I shall come here to-morrow, and then thou shalt have digging-tools ready."
"Now, I pray thee," says Audun, "to do nought herein, for I know that Thorfinn will cast his hatred on thee therefor."
Grettir said he would risk that.
So the night went by, and Grettir came early on the morrow and the digging-tools were ready; the farmer goes with him to the barrow, and Grettir brake it open, and was rough-handed enough thereat, and did not leave off till he came to the rafters, and by then the day was spent; then he tore away the rafters, and now Audun prayed him hard not to go into the barrow; Grettir bade him guard the rope, "but I shall espy what dwells within here."
Then Grettir entered into the barrow, and right dark it was, and a smell there was therein none of the sweetest. Now he groped about to see how things were below; first he found horse-bones, and then he stumbled against the arm of a high-chair, and in that chair found a man sitting; great treasures of gold and silver were heaped together there, and a small chest was set under the feet of him full of silver; all these riches Grettir carried together to the rope; but as he went out through the barrow he was griped at right strongly; thereon he let go the treasure and rushed against the barrow-dweller, and now they set on one another unsparingly enough.
Everything in their way was kicked out of place, the barrow-wight setting on with hideous eagerness; Grettir gave back before him for a long time, till at last it came to this, that he saw it would not do to hoard his strength any more; now neither spared the other, and they were brought to where the horse-bones were, and thereabout they wrestled long. And now one, now the other, fell on his knee; but the end of the strife was, that the barrow-dweller fell over on his back with huge din. Then ran Audun from the holding of the rope, and deemed Grettir dead. But Grettir drew the sword, 'Jokul's gift,' and drave it at the neck of the barrow-bider so that it took off his head, and Grettir laid it at the thigh of him. Then he went to the rope with the treasure, and lo, Audun was clean gone, so he had to get up the rope by his hands; he had tied a line to the treasure, and therewith he now haled it up.
Grettir had got very stiff with his dealings with Karr, and now he went back to Thorfinn's house with the treasures, whenas all folk had set them down to table. Thorfinn gave Grettir a sharp look when he came into the drinking-hall, and asked him what work he had on hand so needful to do that he might not keep times of meals with other men. Grettir answers, "Many little matters will hap on late eves," and therewith he cast down on the table all the treasure he had taken in the barrow; but one matter there was thereof, on which he must needs keep his eyes; this was a short-sword, so good a weapon, that a better, he said, he had never seen; and this he gave up the last of all. Thorfinn was blithe to see that sword, for it was an heirloom of his house, and had never yet gone out of his kin.
"Whence came these treasures to thine hand?" said Thorfinn.
Grettir sang
"Lessener of the flame of sea,
My strong hope was true to me,
When I deemed that treasure lay
In the barrow; from to-day
Folk shall know that I was right;
The begetters of the fight
Small joy now shall have therein,
Seeking dragon's-lair to win."
Thorfinn answered, "Blood will seldom seem blood to thine eyes; no man before thee has had will to break open the barrow; but, because I know that what wealth soever is hid in earth or borne into barrow is wrongly placed, I shall not hold thee blameworthy for thy deed as thou hast brought it all to me; yea, or whence didst thou get the good sword?"
Grettir answered and sang
"Lessener of waves flashing flame,
To my lucky hand this came
In the barrow where that thing
Through the dark fell clattering;
If that helm-fire I should gain,
Made so fair to be the bane
Of the breakers of the bow,
Ne'er from my hand should it go."
Thorfinn said, "Well hast thou prayed for it, but thou must show some deed of fame before I give thee that sword, for never could I get it of my father while he lived."
Said Grettir, "Who knows to whom most gain will come of it in the end?"
So Thorfinn took the treasures and kept the sword at his bed-head, and the winter wore on toward Yule, so that little else fell out to be told of.
Chapter 32:
There was a man hight Thorhall, who dwelt at Thorhall-stead, in Shady-vale, which runs up from Waterdale. Thorhall was the son of Grim, son of Thorhall, the son of Fridmund, who settled Shady-vale. Thorhall had a wife hight Gudrun. Grim was their son, and Thurid their daughter; they were well-nigh grown up.
Thorhall was a rich man, but mostly in cattle, so that no man had so much of live-stock as he. He was no chief, but an honest bonder he was. Much was that place haunted, and hardly could he get a shepherd that he deemed should serve his turn. He sought counsel of many men as to what he might do therewith, but none gave him a rede that might serve him. Thorhall rode each summer to the Thing, and good horses he had. But one summer at the Althing, Thorhall went to the booth of Skapti Thorodson the Lawman. Skapti was the wisest of men, and wholesome were his redes when folk prayed him for them. But he and his father differed thus much, that Thorod was foretelling, and yet was called under-handed of some folk; but Skapti showed forth to every man what he deemed would avail most, if it were not departed from, therefore was he called "Father-betterer."
Now Thorhall went into Skapti's booth, and Skapti greeted him well, for he knew that he was a man rich in cattle, and he asked him what were the tidings.
Thorhall answered, "A wholesome counsel would I have from thee."
"Little am I meet for that," said Skapti; "but what dost thou stand in need of?"
Thorhall said, "So is the matter grown to be, that but a little while do my shepherds avail me; for ever will they get badly hurt; but others will not serve to the end, and now no one will take the job when he knows what bides in the way."
Skapti answered, "Some evil things shall be there then, since men are more unwilling to watch thy sheep than those of other men. Now, therefore, as thou hast sought rede of me, I shall get thee a shepherd who is hight Glam, a Swede, from Sylgsdale, who came out last summer, a big man and a strong, though he is not much to the mind of most folk."
Thorhall said he heeded that little if he watched the sheep well.
Skapti said that little would be the look out for others, if he could not watch them, despite his strength and daring.
Then Thorhall went out from him, and this was towards the breaking up of the Thing. Thorhall missed two dun horses, and fared himself to seek for them; wherefore folk deem that he was no great man. He went up to Sledgehill, and south along the fell which is called Armansfell; then he saw how a man fared down from Godi's-wood, and bore faggots on a horse. Soon they met together, and Thorhall asked him of his name. He said that he was called Glam. This man was great of growth, uncouth to look on; his eyes were grey and glaring, and his hair was wolf-grey.
Thorhall stared at him somewhat when he saw this man, till he saw that this was he to whom he had been sent.
"What work hast thou best will to do?" said Thorhall.
Glam said, "That he was of good mind to watch sheep in winter."
"Wilt thou watch my sheep?" said Thorhall. "Skapti has given thee to my will."
"So only shall my service avail thee, if I go of my own will, for I am evil of mood if matters mislike me," quoth Glam.
"I fear no hurt thereof," said Thorhall, "and I will that thou fare to my house."
"That may I do," said Glam, "perchance there are some troubles there?"
"Folk deem the place haunted," said Thorhall.
"Such bugs will not scare me," quoth Glam; "life seems to me less irksome thereby."
"It must needs seem so," said Thorhall, "and truly it is better that a mannikin be not there."
Thereafter they struck bargain together, and Glam is to come at winter nights: then they parted, and Thorhall found his horses even where he had just been searching. Thorhall rode home, and thanked Skapti for his good deed.
Summer slipped away, and Thorhall heard nought of his shepherd, nor did any man know aught about him; but at the appointed time he came to Thorhall-stead. The bonder greeted him well, but none of the other folk could abide him, and the good wife least of all.
Now he took to the sheep-watching, and little trouble it seemed to give him; he was big-voiced and husky, and all the beasts would run together when he whooped. There was a church at Thorhall-stead, but nowise would Glam come therein; he was a loather of church-song, and godless, foul-tempered, and surly, and no man might abide him.
Now passed the time till it came to Yule-eve; then Glam got up and straightway called for his meat. The good wife said
"No Christian man is wont to eat meat this day, be-. cause that on the morrow is the first day of Yule," says she, "wherefore must men first fast to-day."
He answers, "Many follies have ye, whereof I see no good come, nor know I that men fare better now than when they paid no heed to such things; and methinks the ways of men were better when they were called heathens; and now will I have my meat, and none of this fooling."
Then said the housewife, "I know for sure that thou shall fare ill to-day, if thou takest up this evil turn."
Glam bade her bring food straightway, and said that she should fare the worse else. She durst do but as he would, and so when he was full, he went out, growling and grumbling.
Now the weather was such, that mirk was over all, and the snow-flakes drave down, and great din there was, and still all grew much the worse, as the day slipped away.
Men heard the shepherd through the early morning, but less of him as the day wore; then it took to snowing, and by evening there was a great storm; then men went to church, and thus time drew on to nightfall; and Glam came not home; then folk held talk, as to whether search should not be made for him, but, because of the snow-storm and pitch darkness, that came to nought.
Now he came not home on the night of Yule-eve; and thus men abide till after the time of worship; but further on in the day men fared out to the search, and found the sheep scattered wide about in fens, beaten down by the storm, or strayed up into the mountains. Thereafter they came on a great beaten place high up in the valley, and they thought it was as if strong wrestling had gone on there; for that all about the stones had been uptorn and the earth withal; now they looked closely and saw where Glam lay a little way therefrom; he was dead, and as blue as hell, and as great as a neat.
Huge loathing took them, at the sight of him, and they shuddered in their souls at him, yet they strove to bring him to church, but could get him only as far as a certain gil-edge a little way below.
Then they fared home to the farm, and told the bonder what had happed. He asked what was like to have been Glam's bane. They said they had tracked steps as great as if a cask-bottom had been stamped down, from there where the beaten place was, up to beneath sheer rocks which were high up the valley, and there along went great stains of blood. Now men drew from this, that the evil wight which had been there before had killed Glam, but had got such wounds as had been full enough for him, for of him none has since been ware.
The second day of Yule men went afresh to try to bring Glam to church; drag horses were put to him, but could move him nowhere where they had to go on even ground and not down hill; then folk had to go away therefrom leaving things done so far.
The third day the priest fared with them, and they sought all day, but found not Glam. The priest would go no more on such search, but the herdsman was found whenso the priest was not in their company. Then they let alone striving to bring him to church, and buried him there whereto he had been brought.
A little time after men were ware that Glam lay not quiet. Folk got great hurt therefrom, so that many fell into swoons when they saw him, but others lost their wits thereby. But just after Yule men thought they saw him home at the farm. Folk became exceeding afeard thereat, and many fled there and then. Next Glam took to riding the house-roofs at night, so that he went nigh to breaking them in. Now he walked well-nigh night and day. Hardly durst men fare up into the dale, though they had errands enough there. And much scathe the men of the country-side deemed all this.
Chapter 33:
In the spring Thorhall got serving-men, and set up house at his farm; then the hauntings began to go off while the sun was at its height; and so things went on to midsummer. That summer a ship came out to Hunawater, wherein was a man named Thorgaut. He was an outlander of kin, big and stout, and two men's strength he had. He was unhired and single, and would fain do some work, for he was moneyless. Now Thorhall rode to the ship, and asked Thorgaut if he would work for him. Thorgaut said that might be, and moreover that he was not nice about work.
"Be sure in thy mind," said Thorhall, "that mannikins are of small avail there because of the hauntings that have been going on there for one while now; for I will not draw thee on by wiles."
Thorgaut answers, "I deem not myself given up, though I should see some wraithlings; matters will not be light when I am scared, nor will I give up my service for that."
Now they come speedily to a bargain, and Thorgaut is to watch the sheep when winter comes. So the summer wore on, and Thorgaut betook himself to the shepherding at winter nights, and all liked him well. But ever came Glam home and rode the house-roofs; this Thorgaut deemed sport enough, and quoth he
"The thrall must come nigher to scare me."
Thorhall bade him keep silence over that. "Better will it be that ye have no trial together."
Thorgaut said, "Surely all might is shaken out of you, nor shall I drop down betwixt morn and eve at such talk."
Now so things go through the winter till Yule-tide. On Yule eve the shepherd would fare out to his sheep. Then said the good wife
"Need is it that things go not the old way."
He answered, "Have no fear thereof, goodwife; something worth telling of will betide if I come not back."
And thereafter he went to his sheep; and the weather was somewhat cold, and there was much snow. Thorgaut was wont to come home when twilight had set in, and now he came not at that time. Folk went to church as they were wont. Men now thought things looked not unlike what they did before; the bonder would have search made for the shepherd, but the church-goers begged off, and said that they would not give themselves into the hands of trolls by night; so the bonder durst not go, and the search came to nought.
Yule-day, when men were full, they fared out and searched for the shepherd; they first went to Glam's cairn, because men thought that from his deeds came the loss of the herdsman. But when they came nigh to the cairn, there they saw great tidings, for there they found the shepherd, and his neck was broken, and every bone in him smashed. Then they brought him to church, and no harm came to men from Thorgaut afterwards.
But Glam began afresh to wax mighty; and such deeds he wrought, that all men fled away from Thorhall-stead, except the good man and his goodwife. Now the same neatherd had long been there, and Thorhall would not let him go, because of his good will and safe ward; he was well on in years, and was very loth to fare away, for he saw that all things the bonder had went to nought from not being watched.
Now after midwinter one morning the housewife fared to the byre to milk the cows after the wonted time; by then was it broad daylight, for none other than the neatherd would trust themselves out before day; but he went out at dawn. She heard great cracking in the byre, with bellowing and roaring; she ran back crying out, and said she knew not what uncouth things were going on in the byre.
The bonder went out and came to the cows, which were goring one another; so he thought it not good to go in there, but went in to the hay-barn. There he saw where lay the neatherd, and had his head in one boose and his feet in the other; and he lay cast on his back. The bonder went up to him, and felt him all over with his hand, and finds soon that he was dead, and the spine of him broken asunder; it had been broken over the raised stone-edge of a boose.
Now the goodman thought there was no abiding there longer; so he fled away from the farm with all that he might take away; but all such live stock as was left behind Glam killed, and then he fared all over the valley and destroyed farms up from Tongue. But Thorhall was with his friends the rest of the winter.
No man might fare up the dale with horse or hound, because straightway it was slain. But when spring came, and the sun-light was the greatest, somewhat the hauntings abated; and now would Thorhall go back to his own land; he had no easy task in getting servants, nathless he set up house again at Thorhall-stead; but all went the same way as before; for when autumn came, the hauntings began to wax again; the bonder's daughter was most set on, and fared so that she died thereof. Many redes were sought, but nought could be done; men thought it like that all Waterdale would be laid waste if nought were found to better this.
Chapter 34:
Now we take up the story where Grettir Asmundson sat at Biarg through the autumn after they parted, he and Slaying-Bardi at Thoreys-peak; and when the time of winter-nights had well-nigh come, Grettir rode from home north over the neck to Willowdale, and guested at Audunstead; he and Audun made a full peace, and Grettir gave Audun a good axe, and they talked of friendship between them. Audun dwelt long at Audunstead, and was a man of many and hopeful kin; his son was Egil, who married Ulfheid, daughter of Eyulf Gudmundson, and their son was Eyulf, who was slain at the Althing, he was the father of Orm, who was the chaplain of Bishop Thorlak.
Grettir rode north to Waterdale, and came to see his kin at Tongue. In those days dwelt there Jokull, the son of Bard, the mother's brother of Grettir: Jokull was a big man and a strong, and the most violent of men; he was a seafaring man, very wild, and yet a man of great account.
He greeted Grettir well, and he was there three nights. There were so many words about Glam's hauntings, that nought was so much spoken of as of that. Grettir asked closely about all things that had happed. Jokull said that thereof was told no more than the very truth; "And, perchance, thou art wishful to go there, kinsman?"
Grettir said that so it was.
Jokull bade him do it not, "Because it is a great risk for thy good luck, and thy kinsmen have much to hazard where thou art," said he, "for of young men we think there is none such as thou; but from ill cometh ill whereas Glam is; and far better it is to deal with men than with such evil wights."
Grettir said, "That he had a mind to go to Thorhall-stead and see how things went there."
Said Jokull, "Now I see it is of no avail to let thee; but so it is, as men say, Good luck and goodliness are twain."
"Woe is before one's own door when it is inside one's neighbour's; think how it may fare with thyself ere things are ended," said Grettir.
Jokull answered, "Maybe we may both see somewhat of things to come, but neither may help aught herein."
They parted thereafter, and neither thought well of the other's foretelling.
Chapter 35:
Grettir rode to Thorhall-stead, and the bonder gave him good welcome; he asked whither Grettir was minded to fare, but Grettir said he would be there that night if the bonder would have it so.
Thorhall said that he thanked him therefor, "But few have thought it a treat to guest here for any time; thou must needs have heard what is going on here, and I fain would that thou shouldest have no trouble from me: but though thou shouldest come off whole thyself, that know I for sure, that thou wilt lose thy horse, for none keeps his horse whole who comes here."
Grettir said that horses were to be had in plenty whatsoever might hap to this. Then Thorhall was glad that Grettir was to be there, and gave him a hearty welcome.
Now Grettir's horse was locked up in a strong house, and they went to sleep; and so the night slipped by, and Glam came not home.
Then said Thorhall, "Things have gone well at thy coming, for every night is Glam wont to ride the house-roofs, or break open doors, as thou mayest well see."
Grettir said, "Then shall one of two things be, either he shall not hold himself back for long, or the hauntings will abate for more than one night; I will bide here another night and see how things fare."
Thereafter they went to Grettir's horse, and nought had been tried against it; then all seemed to the bonder to go one way.
Now is Grettir there another night, and neither came the thrall home; that the farmer deemed very hopeful; withal he fared to see after Grettir's horse. When the farmer came there, he found the house broken into, but the horse was dragged out to the door, and every bone in him broken to pieces. Thorhall told Grettir what had happed there, and bade him save himself, "For sure is thy death if thou abidest Glam."
Grettir answered, "I must not have less for my horse than a sight of the thrall."
The bonder said it was no boon to see him, for he was unlike any shape of man; "but good methinks is every hour that thou art here."
Now the day goes by, and when men should go to sleep Grettir would not put off his clothes, but lay down on the seat over against the bonder's lock-bed. He had a drugget cloak over him, and wrapped one skirt of it under his feet, and twined the other under his head, and looked out through the head-opening; a seat-beam was before the seat, a very strong one, and against this he set his feet. The door-fittings were all broken from the outer door, but a wrecked door was now bound thereby, and all was fitted up in the wretchedest wise. The panelling which had been before the seat athwart the hall, was all broken away both above and below the cross-beam; all beds had been torn out of place, and an uncouth place it was.
Light burned in the hall through the night; and when the third part of the night was passed, Grettir heard huge din without, and then one went up upon the houses and rode the hall, and drave his heels against the thatch so that every rafter cracked again.
That went on long, and then he came down from the house and went to the door; and as the door opened, Grettir saw that the thrall stretched in his head, which seemed to him monstrously big, and wondrous thick cut.
Glam fared slowly when he came into the door and stretched himself high up under the roof, and turned looking along the hall, and laid his arms on the tie-beam, and glared inwards over the place. The farmer would not let himself be heard, for he deemed he had had enough in hearing himself what had gone on outside. Grettir lay quiet, and moved no whit; then Glam saw that some bundle lay on the seat, and therewith he stalked up the hall and griped at the wrapper wondrous hard; but Grettir set his foot against the beam, and moved in no wise; Glam pulled again much harder, but still the wrapper moved not at all; the third time he pulled with both hands so hard, that he drew Grettir upright from the seat; and now they tore the wrapper asunder between them.
Glam gazed at the rag he held in his hand, and wondered much who might pull so hard against him; and therewithal Grettir ran under his hands and gripped him round the middle, and bent back his spine as hard as he might, and his mind it was that Glam should shrink thereat; but the thrall lay so hard on Grettir's arms, that he shrank all aback because of Glam's strength.
Then Grettir bore back before him into sundry seats; but the seat-beams were driven out of place, and all was broken that was before them. Glam was fain to get out, but Grettir set his feet against all things that he might; nathless Glam got him dragged from out the hall; there had they a wondrous hard wrestling, because the thrall had a mind to bring him out of the house; but Grettir saw that ill as it was to deal with Glam within doors, yet worse would it be without; therefore he struggled with all his might and main against going out-a-doors.
Now Glam gathered up his strength and knit Grettir towards him when they came to the outer door; but when Grettir saw that he might not set his feet against that, all of a sudden in one rush he drave his hardest against the thrall's breast, and spurned both feet against the half-sunken stone that stood in the threshold of the door; for this the thrall was not ready, for he had been tugging to draw Grettir to him, therefore he reeled aback and spun out against the door, so that his shoulders caught the upper door-case, and the roof burst asunder, both rafters and frozen thatch, and therewith he fell open-armed aback out of the house, and Grettir over him.
Bright moonlight was there without, and the drift was broken, now drawn over the moon, now driven from off her; and, even as Glam fell, a cloud was driven from the moon, and Glam glared up against her. And Grettir himself says that by that sight only was he dismayed amidst all that he ever saw.
Then his soul sank within him so, from all these things both from weariness, and because he had seen Glam turn his eyes so horribly, that he might not draw the short-sword, and lay well-nigh 'twixt home and hell.
But herein was there more fiendish craft in Glam than in most other ghosts, that he spake now in this wise
"Exceeding eagerly hast thou wrought to meet me, Grettir, but no wonder will it be deemed, though thou gettest no good hap of me; and this must I tell thee, that thou now hast got half the strength and manhood, which was thy lot if thou hadst not met me: now I may not take from thee the strength which thou hast got before this; but that may I rule, that thou shalt never be mightier than now thou art; and nathless art thou mighty enow, and that shall many an one learn. Hitherto hast thou earned fame by thy deeds, but henceforth will wrongs and man-slayings fall on thee, and the most part of thy doings will turn to thy woe and ill-hap; an outlaw shalt thou be made, and ever shall it be thy lot to dwell alone abroad; therefore this weird I lay on thee, ever in those days to see these eyes with thine eyes, and thou wilt find it hard to be aloneand that shall drag thee unto death."
Now when the thrall had thus said, the astonishment fell from Grettir that had lain on him, and therewith he drew the short-sword and hewed the head from Glam, and laid it at his thigh.
Then came the farmer out; he had clad himself while Glam had his spell going, but he durst come nowhere nigh till Glam had fallen.
Thorhall praised God therefor, and thanked Grettir well for that he had won this unclean spirit. Then they set to work and burned Glam to cold coals, thereafter they gathered his ashes into the skin of a beast, and dug it down whereas sheep-pastures were fewest, or the ways of men. They walked home thereafter, and by then it had got far on towards day; Grettir laid him down, for he was very stiff: but Thorhall sent to the nearest farm for men, and both showed them and told them how all things had fared.
All men who heard thereof deemed this a deed of great worth, and in those days it was said by all that none in all the land was like to Grettir Asmundson for great heart and prowess.
Thorhall saw off Grettir handsomely, and gave him a good horse and seemly clothes, for those were all torn to pieces that he had worn before; so they parted in friendly wise. Grettir rode thence to the Ridge in Waterdale, and Thorvald received him well, and asked closely about the struggle with Glam. Grettir told him all, and said thereto that he had never had such a trial of strength, so long was their struggle.
Thorvald bade him keep quiet, "Then all will go well with thee, else wilt thou be a man of many troubles."
Grettir said that his temper had been nowise bettered by this, that he was worse to quiet than before, and that he deemed all trouble worse than it was; but that herein he found the greatest change, in that he was become so fearsome a man in the dark, that he durst go nowhither alone after nightfall, for then he seemed to see all kinds of horrors.
And that has fallen since into a proverb, that Glam lends eyes, or gives Glamsight to those who see things nowise as they are.
But Grettir rode home to Biarg when he had done his errands, and sat at home through the winter.
Further Reading:
Ármann Jakobsson. 2011. “Vampires and Watchmen: Categorizing the Mediaeval Icelandic Undead.” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 110: 281–300.
----. 2009. “The Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis Saga.” Folklore 120: 307-16.
Ármann Jakobsson and Miriam Mayburd. 2020. Paranormal Encounters in Iceland, 1150-1400. Berlin: De Gruyter.
Caciola, Nancy Mandeville. 2017. Afterlives: The Return of the Dead in the Middle Ages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.
Drieshen, Clarck. 2019. “How to Survive Halloween.” The British Library Medieval Manuscripts Blog.
Grant, A.J. 1924. 'Twelve Medieval Ghost Stories', The Yorkshire Archaeological Journal, 27: 363-79.
Jackson, Eleanor. 2020. “Byland Abbey Ghost Stories: A Guide to Medieval Ghosts.” The British Library Manuscripts Blog.
James, M.R. 1922. 'Twelve Medieval Ghost-Stories', The English Historical Review, 37: 413-22.
Joynes, Andrew. 2001. Medieval Ghost Stories: An Anthology of Miracles, Marvels, and Prodigies. Woodbrige: Boydell and Brewer.
Kanerva, Kirsi. 2022. “The Dead in Dreams: Medieval Icelandic Conceptions of the Unquiet Dead.” Journal of Medieval History 48.2: Vigor Mortis: The Vitality of the Dead in Medieval Cultures: 218-234.
----. 2018. “Restless Dead or Peaceful Cadavers? Preparations for Death and Afterlife in Medieval Iceland,” in Dying Prepared in Medieval and Early Modern Northern Europe, eds. Anu Lahtinen and Mia Korpiola. Leiden: Brill, 18–43.
----. 2017. “From Powerful Agents to Subordinate Objects? The Restless Dead in Thirteenth- and Fourteenth-Century Iceland,” in Death in Medieval Europe: Death Scripted and Death Choreographed, ed. Joëlle Rollo-Koster. New York: Routledge, 40–70.
----. 2011. “The Role of the Dead in Medieval Iceland: A Case Study of Eyrbyggja saga.” Collegium Medievale 24: 23-49.
Mac Cárthaigh, Seasamh. 2021. “Afterlives and Otherworlds: Three Ghost Stories from Medieval Ireland.” The British Library Manuscripts Blog.
McCreesh, Bernadine. “Eyrbyggja saga,” in Phillip Pulsiano, et al. Medieval Scandinavia: An Encyclopedia. Routledge, 1993, 174-175.
Schmitt, Jean-Claude. 1999. Ghosts in the Middle Ages: The Living and the Dead in Medieval Society. Trans. By Teresa Lavender Fagan. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
