Dancing With The Devil

The hambo is a traditional dance with origin in the 19th century. It is a couple dance in ¾ time; the music has a strong accent on the first beat and a tempo that varies from moderate to fast (100 to 120 beats per minute).

The hambo is a dance with a fixed pattern and tunes almost always have a corresponding eight measure structure. The name “hambo” is derived from the name of the parish Hanebo, where the dance is said to have originated.

In the province of Hälsingland, about 300 km north of Stockholm, in the parish of Hanebo, lies the small village Hårga at the foot of a steep and rocky mountain, Hårgaberget, i.e. Hårga Hill or Hårga Mountain.

Twenty thousand years ago, the mountain and the entire landscape was covered by a huge continental glacier, which, like glaciers always do, was sliding towards warmer regions, scraping and polishing the bedrock. When the ice, another ten thousand years later, finally receded from the rocky landscape, it left the top of Hårgaberget polished and flat as a tabletop.

This unusually shaped mountain, with its flat top and wide view in all directions, has of course attracted people in all times, and even if there are no signs left on the flat rock face, we can imagine that it has been a place for ceremonies, rituals and celebrations for many thousand years. And there are old legends that talk about bloody sacrifices, of animals, slaves and prisoners.

View from Hårgaberget
View from Hårgaberget

But even if the rock face bears no sign, it has made its mark in people’s minds: there is a dark age-old tale about what once happened on the mountain. The first known written version of this tale is dated 1785, written by the then vicar in Hanebo, but the core of the legend is probably much older.

Long time ago, in the evenings of early summer, when haymows and barns were empty, awaiting the upcoming harvest, people used to sweep the barn floors and arrange dancing nights, called logdans (~ haymow dance).

On a Saturday evening many, many years ago, a number of young men and women had gathered for logdans in Hårga. The dancing had been going on for several hours, and the short midsummer night was giving away for the light of dawn.

Suddenly the door opened and an unknown fiddler entered, wearing a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He began playing a wild tune that grabbed the dancing youngsters and gave them new force and energy. The fiddler’s eyes were like burning coals under the brim of the hat, and his pointed goatee beard wagged up and down as he played.


Folk dancers Photo by Arne Winderlich
Folk dancers
Photo by Arne Winderlich

The music went on incessantly, and the dance became wilder than ever. The fiddler led the procession of young dancers out through the neighbourhood, ”out through doors and in through windows”, over hills and meadows, up to Hårgaberget.

It was Sunday morning, and the church bells were ringing, summoning people to church service, but the dancers didn’t hear, couldn’t stop dancing.

Only one person, a girl, heard the bells and threw herself down. Lying on the floor she noticed that the fiddler had cloven hooves under his long coat! She tried to warn the others, but no one listened, and she was left alone lying on the barn floor when the dancers went on dancing up the hill.

Another version of the tale says that a boy, seeing the cloven hoof, tried to stop the happening by hacking his knife into a doorpost ­– goblins, ghosts and devils are said to be afraid of steel – only to find that his arm, still holding the knife, was torn off.


Contestants in Hälsingehambon Picture from
Contestants in Hälsingehambon
Picture from

The dance never stopped. The youngsters kept on dancing on the flat hilltop in Hårga; they wore out not only their shoes, but their feet, the flesh from their bodies, and the bones in their skeletons. In the end, there was nothing left but a number of skulls rattling around in a circle on the flat rock face.

There’s still a circular pattern visible on the mountain top. The tale says that on dark and cloudy Saturday nights you can see shadow-like, restless souls dancing on the flat mountain top.


Hälsingehambon is a Hambo Dancing Contest (claiming to be the Hambo World Championship) which is held in Hårga every year in July.


The tale about dancing with the devil is retold in a song, Hårgalåten (the Hårga tune), which is a hambo. The hambo dance tunes, in ¾ time with a strong accent on the first beat, is rather catching, even to people like me who don’t practise folk dance or aren’t particularly fond of it.

The Hårgalåten tune is popular and there are numerous recordings. You can hear one version here:

(Sung by Sandra Dahlberg, accompanied on guitar. Pretty, sounds romantic, but really totally wrong: it should be a fiddle in higher tempo, arranged so as to reproduce the horror of the text. But as said – it’s pretty. 🙂 )The Swedish original lyrics are rendered below, in parallel to my flatfooted translation; it doesn’t rhyme, it doesn’t follow any previously known metre, but…

(For those not familiar with the Swedish alphabet: the letter ”å” looks like an ”a” with a ball on top, and it is pronounced like the ”a” in the word ”ball”. Easy to remember, isn’t it?)

HårgalåtenSpelmannen drog fiol ur lådan
och lyfte stråken högt mot söndagssolens kula.
Då blev det fart på Hårgafolket,
de glömde Gud och hela världenDansen gick på äng och backar,
högt uppå Hårgaåsens topp.
Man slet ut båd’ skor och klackar,
aldrig fick man på dansen stopp.Varifrån kommer du som spelar,
säg vem har lärt dig detta spel det vilda galna?
Stannar du inte brister hjärtat,
å Gud bevare han har bockfot!Klockorna hade ringt i dalen,
och där gick far och mor och bror till socken kyrkan.
Var kan nu Hårgas ungdom vara,
å herregud de dansar ännu!Dansen gick till Hårgalåten,
högt uppå Hårgaåsens topp.
Man har nu inte långt till gråten,
dansar nu sönder både själ och kroppHejda din stråke spelman innan,
vi dansar liv och själ och alla ben ur kroppen.
Nej inte slutar han sin dans
förrän allesammans faller döda!
The Hårga Tune
Fiddler took the fiddle from its casing
lifted bow to greet the dawning Sunday sun
In Hårga village people started bustling
Once was God and all the world forgottenDance, they did over hills and meadows
to the crest of Hårga ?mountain
Soles and heels ?they soon wore out
Since the dance? could not be stoppedWherefrom are you, amazing fiddler
tell, who taught you play this wild and mad?
Our hearts will burst unless you stop!
oh help us God, he walks on cloven hooves!The bells were ringing in the valley,
god-fearing people went on their way to church
But where are all the Hårga youngsters?
oh Lord, my God, they are still dancing!They swirled and danced to Hårgalåten
high on the crest of Hårga ?hill
Exhausted, nearly weeping, crying!
Their souls and bodies ?torn asunderFiddler, hold your bow? before
life, and soul, and bones leave our bodies!
No, he doesn’t stop, his tune goes on
Till all of us at end fall down.


  1. July 20, 2013 at 00:22 — Reply

    Was mighty surprised when I saw my name in your blog. Took me a while to figure out the reason.
    Also surprised that the quality of the midsummer Picture still is the same. Tks for mention my name in this connection

    • July 20, 2013 at 10:35 — Reply

      It’s a very nice picture, indeed. I’m glad to show it with your name 🙂

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

The Author



Thomas is a retired IT professional, who lives alone with his golden retriever Ziggy Stardust in a small townhouse in a small town in the southern half of Sweden. He has two grown-up kids and at least five grandkids – "as far as I know".

Thomas enjoys daily long walks with Ziggy in the forests around town, he loves cooking for his guests, and he likes to make things with his hands. He says he loves good food, good wine, people who smile and make him smile.

Having spent most of his life developing things, methods and organizations, he's passionately interested in all kinds of technology, natural science, politics,... anything that raises a problem, whether it can be solved or not. Consequently, he is consistently short of time.

While he was professionally active, he lived in San Francisco a few years, working as software engineer down in Silicon Valley. He claims that he did leave his heart in San Francisco, and is constantly planning to go back and pick it up. Quoting Hoagy Carmichael's Hong Kong Blues, he says "... every time I try to leave, sweet opium won't let me fly away... ...i.e. my opium is Sweden, my kids, my dog, my friends, my forest,... you know, I'm Swedish."