The Ogre in the Forest of Hazel Nuts

Ages ago, in the gloomy forests of Limburg, there lived a roaring giant

named Toover Hek. Although the forest was so dense, yet there were many

paths through it, for there was no other way of getting across from

Germany, into Belgic Land and France and Holland. Toover Hek, the

man-eating giant, or ogre, used to wait, where the paths crossed each

other, or diverged, and here he would waylay travelers, seize them and

run away with them, and, with his ogre wife, devour them in his cave.

This ogre, Toover Hek, roamed the woods and ate up all the people he

could catch, who traveled that way. Terrible tales were told about his

vrouw, also, who was reported to be even more cruel than her big

husband. It was said that she was a cousin of another ogre, Hecate, who

had once lived further east, in Greece. Both had been driven out by the

holy saints, and had come into Belgic land, where one of them married

the man-eating giant, Toover Hek.

Sometimes the children called this big fellow the Long Man, because he

was so tall, and had such very long legs. In the local dialect, this

became “Lounge Man,” which means the same thing.

One day, his ogre wife found some honey in the forest and brought it to

him. He smacked his lips and always after that called his wife his

Troetel, or Honey Bunch.

The first inhabitant of the country was a farmer, named Heinrich. He

was a doughty fellow, who was not afraid of ogres or giants. He had

long lived among people who celebrated the kermiss, but with such

drunken brutality and coarse indecency, that he was disgusted, and went

into the forest to live. Heinrich’s one weakness was pea soup, and his

wife thought with him and rode the same hobby. All her neighbors said

that she made the best and thickest pea soup in Limburg. Heinrich

believed pea soup to be both food and luxury. He thought also that

water and milk, and good soup, were all the liquids nature intended

ever to pass the human throat.

Finding that the soil was fertile, and that plenty of hazel nuts would

fatten his pigs, Heinrich trudged with his wife Grietje (Maggie), far

into the hazel forest. He swung his axe diligently, chopped down the

trees, and built a rough house of wood. This he made his home, and

named it Hasselt.

Soon his goats, pigs, and chickens so multiplied that it was hard to

keep them out of the house. So Grietje persuaded her husband, Heinrich,

to saw the door in halves and put them on two sets of hinges. This was

called a hek, or heck-door, after the name usually given to the

feed-rack in the barn or stable.

In this way, the upper part of the door, when open, let in light and

air, and the house was kept looking sweet and cheerful. The lower part

of the door, or the heck, when shut, kept out the goats, pigs, and

chickens.

Leaning over the top of the lower half, the good vrouw could throw out

grain to feed the ducks, geese, pullets, hens, and roosters, and toss

many a tidbit to the piggies. Farmer Heinrich was so pleased with this

idea of a double door, that kept his wife in good humor, that he would

always call on it to witness some act of his. He would even swear by

this demi-door, as if it were something sacred or important.

So his wife often heard him say “By heck, that’s a fine hazel-nut,” or

“By heck, what a fat pig!” or, “By heck, that pea soup is good!” and

many such like expressions.

Being so extravagantly fond of the thick pea soup, which Belgians like

so much, Heinrich planted a large pea patch. Every day, he went out to

see how his vines were growing. When his crop was ready to be gathered,

he had, besides having enjoyed a daily dish of green peas, or a good

basin of thick pea soup, enough of the legumes dried, to furnish his

table with thick pea soup, all winter long. He cultivated all the

varieties of peas then known. The early, medium, late, and the

wrinkled, smooth or split peas were, at one time or another, on his

table.

One evening, after a day’s work with the axe, in the forest, Farmer

Heinrich came home to tell his wife about a terrible ogre, of which he

had caught a glimpse, that day, on one of the hills across the valley.

This monster carried an enormous fir tree club.

Heinrich seemed very much disturbed and talked volubly to Grietje. He

wound up his description of the Long Man, as he called him, by adding

at the end of every sentence, “By heck, he is tall; a real Toover Hek;

and, by heck his club was a big one.”

Now Heinrich and his vrouw feared that they could not defend themselves

from the giant, if he should seek them out. Yet they did not propose to

become mincemeat for an ogre. Far from it. The man knew that Toover Hek

had a big stomach, that could hold a half a hogshead full of food; and

that, after all, he was very much like a man; and that the best way to

divert or fool him, was by aiming at his stomach. Their surest defense

would be in having a barrel of thick pea soup, kept ready and hot, for

him. Fill his stomach, and he would forget everything else; for, like a

pig, he thought first and last of something to eat. Whenever they saw

Toover Hek coming, they could warm up the soup quickly, and set it out

on the doorstep. Then they would bolt the heck door and put a notice

outside inviting the ogre to help himself to the free lunch.

They also planned to drive all the cattle, pigs, goats, and poultry

into the barn and lock the animals up. Of course, they would make no

noise, for the roosters and hens would think it was night, and go to

roost, and the four footed creatures to sleep.

In fact, these two Limburgers went on the idea that the bigger the

ogre, the less brains he would have, inside his brain pan. It was the

way of Dame Nature, the woman argued; that, what she put into a

creature’s body, she took out of his skull, whether it were a dragon, a

bull, a monkey, or a giant. She didn’t add “a man,” but she probably

meant it. Everybody knows that a smart girl, or a nimble princess, was

often more than a match for a giant, and could usually outwit even a

man.

It turned out, just as Heinrich and Grietje expected, and had planned.

One day, when the farmer was far out in the fields, pulling up the

vines of an old pea-patch, and grubbing up the soil to plant new ones,

Grietje, the vrouw, saw Toover Hek, at a distance, coming down the

hill, straight for their cabin.

At once, she set the boiler on the fire, to heat up the pea soup. Then

she ran out and shooed the chickens, drove the cows into the barn,

pulled the goats inside, and locked the door.

Then she poured out the hot, thick, pea soup, into the barrel outside,

hung a dipper near by, for invitation, and shut and bolted both leaves

of the heck door. Peeping through the keyhole, she could see the big

fellow strutting forward. He was puffing, and blowing, after his long

tramp.

Toover Hek seemed to sniff the good stuff from a distance. He laid down

his big club, which was made of a whole fir tree, and coming up to the

pea soup barrel, poked out his tongue and tasted the thick soup. He

smacked his lips in glee, making such a noise, that Heinrich, in the

distant pea patch, thought it had thundered.

The ogre paid no attention to the ladle; and, it may be, he did not see

it; but, with both hands, lifting up the whole barrel of soup at once,

he gulped it down, as if it were only a cupful. Then rubbing gleefully

the region of his swelled out stomach he licked his chops, and soon

walked off, without hurting anything, not even a toad.

Heinrich and Grietje were in high spirits over all this, and

congratulated each other, on not being inside Toover Hek’s stomach and

on their apparent escape from further danger.

But next day Toover Hek came again. Happily, the barrel of thick pea

soup was again ready for him, and once more he swallowed it all down;

finishing his lunch by thrusting out his tongue, which Grietje declared

was a yard long, and giving a thunderous lick to his chops. Then he

strode off, to tell his ogre wife, about his good luck.

But she only scolded him, for not bringing home a nice juicy boy, a

plump girl, a fat woman, or even a skinny man, tough as he might be;

for such a tid-bit would taste better than her every day meal of roots

and berries and wild animals. As for her part, she was real hungry. She

was so tired of Limburger cheese, as a steady diet. And, besides, she

liked the strong smell of it, even less than she used to. She thought

he was an auroch or a bear; and at last she called him a wild boar, for

not thinking of her, and bringing home to her at least a bucketful of

pea soup. How could he forget her!

In the home of Heinrich, there was trouble also. How could they keep up

the supply of a whole barrel of thick pea soup every day for months?

For, although one might outwit an ogre, and play the sort of a trick,

which must bamboozle his stupid brain, there was no telling what he

might do, when matters referred to his stomach, and when there was no

more thick pea soup, to divert him from the pigs and chickens; or, what

he liked best, human beings. Heinrich feared that Toover Hek would soon

eat him out of house and home and then proceed to make a meal of him

and his vrouw; and finish up with his fowls and live stock.

“But there’s no use trying to thin out the soup, and save peas. He’ll

find it out, and then he’ll smash everything with his big club,” said

Heinrich to Grietje, after she had suggested economy, with more water

and fewer peas, and then, when all the peas were gone, mock turtle or

cabbage soup.

Heinrich, being a man, knew that it was not safe to play tricks with a

hungry giant, when his stomach was empty. “A man and an ogre are about

the same, when it comes to his appetite,” he argued. He went on to say:

“You could not do it with a farmer, and how was it to be done with an

ogre? No, Toover Hek must be given either thick pea soup, or else he

would eat them all up.” And at this, Heinrich pounded on the table,

with his fist. He loved his wife, but he wanted her to understand that

he was boss; but she only laughed inside, and knew she could “wrap him

round her little finger,” when she wanted to—the dear old donkey.

Now it happened just when his bin was empty, and the last bushel of

peas had been scraped out, to make thick soup, and Toover Hek had again

swallowed a barrel full, that these first inhabitants of Hasselt,

Heinrich and Grietje, his wife, were saved from the ogre, in an

unexpected way.

How did it come to pass?

Well a brave knight, who had heard of Heinrich’s troubles, and had got

tired of rescuing princes from dragons, and dungeons, and cruel uncles

and old witches, hied him to the Forest of Hazel Nuts. He was just

spoiling for a fight with an ogre. So he made a vow to the Holy Virgin

that if she would help him, he would make the paths safe for travelers.

Coming into the woods, near Hasselt, early one afternoon, he waited

until old Toover Hek had already had his daily gulp of thick pea soup,

and felt sleepy, and much like taking an afternoon nap. The ogre was so

full, that he could not walk fast, or move about easily. Then the

knight knew that he would be “carrying his head under his armpit,” that

is, his wits were out.

The truth was, that old Toover Hek was half afraid to go home, and tell

his wife that he had forgotten her again and had drunk up all the soup,

before he thought of her, and what she had told him. He wished now that

he had taken home a pail full; but he soon got over this spasm of

conscience, and felt dull and stupid. Indeed he looked as if he were

hunting round, for a good, soft place to take a nap in.

As soon as the knight noticed this, he flew at him with his trusty

sword. He avoided his big club, which came down with a crack, hurting

nothing, but only knocking off some hazel nuts, and making a big dent

in the ground.

Then the knight rushed up close to his enemy’s long legs and chopped

away at his knees. Toover Hek fell over, for his big club was of no

use. Seeing this, the knight ran up, and cut off the ogre’s head.

Then pulling out his hunting horn, the victor blew a blast, which

called up his two squires. They quickly rigged up a rude sled, made of

poles, put the head of Toover Hek on it, and drew it off to the

knight’s castle. There it was exposed, on a sharpened stake of wood, in

front of the gate. For a whole week it was the sport of the community,

and the lads and maidens danced and sang and all the people rejoiced.

After the ogre’s head was taken down, it was set in the ground at the

side of a brook, and used for women to stand or kneel on, while washing

clothes. In time it was polished as ivory and shone in the sun.

As for Heinrich, he hitched up four yoke of oxen, and tying an iron

chain around the fir tree trunk, which formed the giant’s club, he

dragged it to his barnyard and there had it chopped up. It made a load

of firewood which lasted him all winter.

Now that the roads were safe for all travelers, Heinrich and Grietje,

and the knight, in thankfulness to the Holy Virgin fixed a pretty

little shrine to one of the forest trees. Soon the knight’s exploit was

noised abroad and pilgrims came in large companies, to pray here, and

take courage. They called the place by name, which, in the local

dialect, or patois, is “Virga Jesse.” In this form of words, one easily

recognized the name of the Holy Virgin and her Blessed Son.

In time, instead of Heinrich’s farm, a great clearing in the woods was

made, and Hasselt, or Hazel Bush, was well named. It was also called

the Forest City and became renowned throughout Europe.

The fame of the shrine was bruited abroad and rich people came to it

and made offerings also to the village church. Even the Pope sent as a

gift, for the Holy Mother, a jeweled crown.

Every seventh year, on the 15th of August, besides the religious

procession, celebrating the Feast of the Assumption, which attracts the

pious, the Hasselters, young or old, have a jolly and happy time. They

enjoy uproariously the legend of Heinrich and his vrouw, and they tell

how a woman’s wit brought to naught the villainous designs of the

cannibal ogre, Toover Hek; and how a brave knight slew him and relieved

the country of the monstrous Long Man. So, to this day, the barrel of

thick pea soup, like the widow’s cruse of oil, has never failed. What

became of the ogre’s wife no one knows, or cares.