More murder and manslaughter. But of an even more mythical nature this time. We’re going back north to The Netherlands, and to the north of the country at that. The legend going around in the province of Drenthe also presents itself in one form or another in other parts of Europe. But hey, who’s to say this isn’t where the story was born? š
The hole was a mess.
“DAD!!” Brammert roared.
“What?” was the eloquent answer.
“You should clean up.”
“Me? You clean up! Besides, it’s not that bad, is it?”
Both father and son looked around the underground hole known in the area as the Brammertshoop. Remains of their meals lay cast aside in heaps against the walls. Leaves and twigs that had blown in were scattered across the floor, and here and there an animal that had wandered in when the two were out had left them a welcome home present they’d neglected to remove.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Ellert conceded. “You should clean up.”
“You’re my father, you’re responsible.”
“But you have younger legs. Now do as I tell you!”
Ellert raised his arm, but Brammert interjected, “We should get someone else to do it.”
“Now there’s a sensible suggestion. Next time we go out, we don’t kill ’em before we make ’em clean.”
And so it was that a few days later, a trembling young woman named Marieke came stumbling into the hole where Ellert lay snoring.
“DAD!!”
Ellert jerked up.
“I found one.”
With a sigh, Ellert fell back. “Good, good. Start cleaning and leave me be.”
“You heard him. Clean.”
The girl, though fully grown, only came up to his waist. What could she do against a giant? Just look at the size of the stones they’d used to build their underground lair! Reluctantly, she picked up a few gnawed bones. Now where to put them? She shuffled to the exit, hoping the giants would be too stupid to look, but Brammert followed to keep an eye on her.
Marieke cleared the hole of everything that didn’t belong. After Ellert had woken up, they made her cook, and then tied her up to sleep.
The next day, Brammert came in looking smug. He untied Marieke, pulled her up to stand, and grinned. “I’m not going to kill ya,” he announced. “You’re going to stay, and cook and clean for us. But we won’t tie you up anymore. I’ve put up lines with bells all over the Ellertsveld, and around the hole, so as soon as you escape, we’ll know.”
“You know, dad,” he continued to Ellert, “we won’t even have to go out any more. As soon as someone passes, we’ll hear the bell and we can go and pick ’em clean. Should have thought of this years ago.”
Of course, the robber giants soon learned that people started avoiding the area altogether, but the bells did prevent Marieke from leaving. Seven years she slaved for the men before she could convinced them to trust her.
“It’s been so long. I’d love to be able to go to church. Just once.”
“This again? We’re not stupid, you know. You’ll tell them where we live. Or you won’t return at all.”
“What if I promise to return and not tell a living soul?” It was a big gamble, but she’d always been honest with them. It paid off. As long as she swore not to tell a living soul, and to return right after mass, she’d be allowed to go to church just this once.
Marieke couldn’t believe it. For the first time in seven years, Brammert cleared her a path through the bells and let her leave. True to her word, though, she answered all the questions people fired at her with, “I can’t say.” Her family pleaded with her, but all she said was, “I can’t say. I have to go back.”
After mass, all eyes were on her as she got up and left the church. Then she turned towards the heavy wooden door. “Dear, sweet door. I promised not to tell a living soul, but I have to let you know exactly what happened to me.”
It all came out. Seven years of misery in captivity, experiencing nothing of the world but what she could see from the entrance to the hole, and living as a slave to two brutal giants, the door had to hear everything. Marieke couldn’t help it that there was an entire congregation of people listening in, could she?
She told the door she wished it could follow her when the first weapons were already passed around. By the time she returned to the hole, all the bravest men in the village knew to tread only where she set her foot. While Marieke waited outside, she was finally set free.
As this is a legend retold many times over, I’ve simply picked the elements I liked best. For much more gruesome retellings, go learn some Dutch while I try to erase them from my memory. I like to keep things cosy. Speaking of which, if youād like to know how my cozy mysteries are coming along, subscribe to my newsletter!
And in case you’re interested, the hunebed you see in the photo is what’s left of a prehistoric burial chamber (built between 3350 and 3050 BC). There are several left in The Netherlands, most of them in the province of Drenthe. For a while, people believed they must have been built by giants. Conveniently, they already had a few to spare.
Christa Bakker 
Great(ly) (re-)tale(d)!
Thank you š
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