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334
BORNHOLM.
Chap. LII.
frizzled and flamed as though burnt by a red-hot iron,
leaving a deep wound in the flesh. From that time,
seeing it was no go, the Trolles left Bondevedde and his
wife in peace and quietness.
But the Trolles are not always mischievous. They
are good patriots, and, in time of war, fight like demons
in defence of their country. Some centuries since,
when Bornholm was attacked by the English fleet
(when was it?) the Trolles rose up in thousands to
aid in repelling the invaders. Every høi was covered
with them, and they fired—bless you ! they fired three
shots in the time you would take in firing one. The
invaders saw them from their ships, and, when
repulsed, the English admiral, with his officers and men,
having first taken their solemn Bible oath to the truth
of the assertion, drew up a statement which they all
signed, and forwarded to the English government,
declaring (no doubt the document is still preserved in the
Record Office) how they were vanquished, not by the
inhabitants of Bornholm, but by the supernatural agency
of the Trolles. The Trolles, however, are now quiet
enough. One weakness they have, of which they never
will be cured, and that is for butter. With a peculiar
art of their own, they come out after nightfall and suck
the butter from the cows, without disturbing either the
milk or the cream. The milk is laid in the pan, the cream
rises, and in its turn is placed in the churn: the
farmwomen churn away till their arms nearly fall off—no use,
the butter is not there. Now, a farmer by Alminde, a
friend of my coachman, suspecting what was the matter,
lay in wait one night and watched the cows. Shortly
after dark came one of the Trolles—incognito as
Trolles always do appear—disguised under the form of
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