Mer­maids

Mer­maids are often the first super­na­tu­ral cre­a­tu­re that peop­le con­nect with Den­mark, lar­ge­ly due to the glo­bal infa­tu­a­tion with The Litt­le Mer­maid. But mer­maids were not always the beau­ti­ful and sani­tized cre­a­tu­res that we know from modern depi­ctions, which beco­mes clear if you read H. C. Ander­sens ori­gi­nal fairy tale. Alt­hough in many ways a tra­di­tio­nal love story, the­re are many fea­tu­res of the main cha­ra­cter that would not exa­ct­ly get one very far in a stan­dard beauty con­test. This is a result of Ander­sen drawing inspira­tion from some very old legends about mer­maids that were more in the realm of the gro­tesque than the won­der­ful.

In Den­mark we have qui­te a few real reports of mer­maid sigh­tings. Some of the­se are even as recent as the pre­vious cen­tury. The­se were usu­al­ly made by sail­ors and among them are certain­ly seve­ral examp­les of proven hoaxes and misi­den­ti­fi­ca­tions. Nevert­he­less, the­re are some cases that are less easy to explain away. The­se have hel­ped keep the legend ali­ve for so many years.

Her­al­dic wild­men

The Danish roy­al coat of arms, which can be seen dis­play­ed on various public buil­dings, shows two wild men clad in lea­ves and armed with woo­den clubs flanking a shield. Alt­hough no one knows why they are so pre­va­lent in a Danish con­te­xt, wild­men frequent­ly appear in her­al­dry across Nort­hern Euro­pe, and are thought to be der­i­ved from the giants (jotuns) in Nor­se myt­ho­lo­gy as well as rela­ted to medi­e­val sto­ri­es of Trolls.

Here in Den­mark wild­men appear most notably in the myt­ho­lo­gy of the Bil­le nob­le family. Their ance­stor Tho­re Bil­le is said to have once met a hairy boy clad in lea­ves, whi­le wal­king in the woods. The hairy boy showed Tho­re Bil­le whe­re to build a water­mill that would make the family very rich.

The myt­hic beliefs sur­ro­un­ding wild men in the woods also appear to have been asso­ci­a­ted with the 19th cen­tury Kulsvi­e­re (Charco­al bur­ners) of Nort­hern Zealand. The­se wor­kers were predo­mi­nant­ly immi­grants from Sout­hern Euro­pe, often with dar­ker com­ple­xions and dif­fe­rent fea­tu­res than the local popu­la­tion. They lived most of their life in the forest, and had cust­oms that were ali­en to the Danish pea­sant class.

Elves

Old legends fea­tu­re a huma­noid, super­na­tu­ral peop­le dwel­ling in old buri­al mounds, fore­sts and bogs. They are known as elves or the mound peop­le, and are rela­ted to cre­a­tu­res such as the sub­ter­ra­ne­ans and hul­dre­folk. The elven girls are espe­ci­al­ly asso­ci­a­ted with beauty and gra­ce­ful­ness, yet descri­bed as hol­low in their backs. One should take care if mee­ting one, and not be lured by their hyp­no­tizing dan­ce in the mist. You risk beco­m­ing “elleskudt” or elf-shot, a form of insa­ni­ty, para­ly­sis or brain dama­ge some­ti­mes per­ma­nent­ly alte­ring the affli­cted.

In a com­mon legend, a wan­de­rer late at night comes across an ele­va­ted buri­al mound, rai­sed up by glowing columns. The festi­vi­ties of the elves are reve­a­led bene­ath the mound, a par­ty one would do well to abstain from.

Lin­dorms

A Lin­dorm is a very spe­ci­fic kind of dra­gon, found in Nort­hern Euro­pe. “Lind” is an old word that means fle­xib­le or slen­der, and “orm” means worm. The lindorm’s body is descri­bed in folk legends as similar to that of a giant sna­ke or eel: No limbs, a lar­ge head and very long very sharp teeth. The­se fea­tu­res are sha­red with the Mid­gard Ser­pent of older Nor­se myt­ho­lo­gy.

A lin­dorm starts out as a tiny worm-like cre­a­tu­re that lives in a com­post heap. As it grows, the lin­dorm will find a dark damp pla­ce to make its home. Lin­dorms will never stop growing and can beco­me seve­ral cen­turi­es old. They have a par­ti­cu­lar dis­li­ke of Chri­sti­a­ni­ty, so when a lin­dorm grows big enough it will coil aro­und the nea­rest church and blo­ck any­o­ne from ente­ring. Legend says that only one thing can kill a lin­dorm: a bull that has been fed sole­ly on milk and nuts. Even so, when the bull kills the lin­dorm it will almost always die from its wound and the venom in the lindorm’s bite.

Elu­si­ve Cats

Alt­hough the­re are legends about myste­rious cats going back far into Denmark’s history, sto­ri­es about lar­ge cats obser­ved whe­re they should not be found are undoub­ted­ly a more recent addi­tion to Danish folkl­o­re. The pheno­menon is pro­bably best known from the UK, whe­re the­se shy ani­mals are most often cal­led ABCs (Ali­en Big Cats). The­se are for the most part cats that exist in more exo­tic loca­tions aro­und the wor­ld, but should not be living in the wild in Euro­pe.

Over the past 50 years here in Den­mark, the­re have been reports of cou­gars in Jut­land, lions on Funen and lynxes in Zealand. In a Danish con­te­xt, the­se have often been refer­red to here as “ghost cats”, becau­se in most cases no deci­si­ve phy­si­cal evi­den­ce ever appears, and the ani­mals often dis­ap­pear as sud­den­ly as they were first seen.

Spectral dogs

Spectral dogs appear in many dif­fe­rent con­nections all over Danish folkl­o­re. Whi­le nowhe­re near as pre­va­lent as for examp­le in the UK, they still are a stap­le of some of the best cre­e­py tales here. The­se dogs can show up and haunt a lone­ly road, as well as a buil­ding or an anci­ent buri­al mound. They can also be wit­ches’ fami­li­ars or the dark lord him­self in dis­gu­i­se. Danish ghost dogs also come in all col­ors and sha­pes. We even have sto­ri­es of dogs that have mel­ted into the road. Even more curious­ly, for some rea­son Danish ghost dogs are often pood­les!