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Chap. XXXVIIL
AALBORG.
131
old as the trees in the forest of Bold.” * On the heath
sat a whole tribe of fox-cubs, quite tame; a chevreuil,
too, was browsing by the way-side.
AALBORG.
5th July.— A day of rest at Aalborg. We visit one of
the three hospitals the town possesses for aged men
and women, sixty in number—all fresh and bright in its
annual coat of paint—large airy rooms, and plenty of
old Jutland women, in their queer frilled caps, spinning
and knitting away. They are fed and lodged, and receive
a mark weekly by way of aid for then’ clothes, which,
added to the small sum they make by the sale of their
yarn and stockings, keeps them in good trim; one of
the old women reminded me of a bonne femme
Nor-mande by Gerard Dow—quite a picture, with what the
Yankees call “ a wealth of silver hair.” Then there
were others, cross and querulous, as the matron
expressed herself, “ as the old woman of Buxtehude.” t
The mayor of the town pointed out to mo a street still
called Scottingade, adjoining the site of an earlier
Aalborg Slot, where once stood the barracks of the
Scotch guard of the second Christian, hired from his
* I passed by the village of Aan; on the heath yon observe those
lofty tumuli, the greatest a giant’s sepulchre, grave of the well-known
Gunther, killed by his rival Kagul, when, according to the old song—
“With spear and dart does Gunther strive
The giant Kagul from his house to drive;
But Kagul he drives Gunther back,
Until his collar-bone does crack.
Now Gunther lies in the earth cold,
And Svenstrup belongs to Aan so bold.”
f “ As cross and scolding as the old woman of Buxtehude,” is a
Jutland saying. The said old woman is an historic character, the
heroine of an ancient ballad: she married a giant ut the age of 110.
K 2
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