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Updated: May 13, 2025
"It was the thought of the boy's having gone to the bad that weighed me down until I had no strength or courage left in me. Now that I know he still lives and has turned out well, you'll see that Holger Nilsson has some grit left." The mother went in alone, and the boy made haste to hide in a corner, for his father walked into the stable.
And then he whose father belonged to my calling, yes, he, the son of the old image-carver, he whom we ourselves have seen, with his silvery locks and his broad shoulders, whose name is known in all lands; yes, he was a sculptor, while I am only a carver. Holger Danske can appear in marble, so that people in all countries of the world may hear of the strength of Denmark.
And now he had carved Holger Danske, who stood there erect and proud, with his long beard, holding in one hand his broad battle-axe, while with the other he leaned on the Danish arms.
At the top of this Etruscan tomb stands a fine bronze allegorical group the Goddess of Victory in her car, drawn by prancing horses fitting memorial to this greatest of northern sculptors. Holger Drachmann was the son of a physician, and quite early in life became a man of letters. Following the profession of an artist, he became a very good marine painter.
And the statue threw its great shadow up against the wall, and even over part of the ceiling; it looked as though the real Holger Danske were standing behind it, for the shadow moved, but this might have been because the flame of the candle did not burn steadily.
When he had lifted his head up from off his arms, the stone table split throughout, for his beard was grown into it. "Give me thy hand," said he to the intruder. The slave feared to trust his hand in the grasp of the ancient warrior, and he reached him the end of an iron bar which he had brought with him. Holger squeezed it so hard, that the mark of his hand remained in it.
And the good old grandfather nodded again; and the more he looked at Holger Danske, the more plain did it become to him that it was a good image he had carved. "That's the most beautiful coat of arms there is in the world!" said the old man. "The lions are strength, and the heart is gentleness and love!"
From the roof in the centre hung a lamp whose flame was nearly extinct, and beneath was a huge great stone table, around which sat steel-clad warriors, bowed down over it, each with his head on his crossed arms. He who was seated at the head of the board then raised himself up. This was Holger Danske.
Thorgerd Holgabrud. Snorri has a bare allusion to it. Holger Danske, or Ogier Le Danois. See Corpus Poeticum Boreale, vol. i. p. cxxx., and No. 10 of this series. Rydberg in the Teutonic Mythology, and by Mr. Nutt in the Voyage of Bran. Ballads. Professor Child is perhaps hasty in regarding the two parts of Clerk Saunders as independent.
The slave, alarmed, durst not give him the hand he had required, but, taking up an iron bar from the ground, put it forth; and Holger, grasping it, indented it with his fingers. "It is well! I am glad that there are yet men in Denmark."
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