When suitors came calling at the storehouse

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When suitors came calling at the storehouse

The summer nights were bright and short. Up in the storehouse loft, the girls were waiting. Soon they would hear the footsteps across the yard. For Saturday night was the evening of suitors, and the storehouse was the stage where love was allowed to blossom. Or at least sprout.

For several hundred years, this was how things worked in the villages of Norway. And in Oppland, the tradition was particularly strong.

The girls moved out

When spring came and the nights got warm, the unmarried girls moved out of the main house and up into the storehouse loft, or in the loft next door. A little away from the family. A little to themselves.

They often had something to offer guests: spirits and cookies. Maybe some flatbread and butter. Because soon they would be having visitors.

It was no coincidence that the girls moved there. The storehouse was the safest building on the farm. The key hung from the housewife's belt. And the walls were thick enough to keep both cold and prying eyes out.

But on Saturday evenings, the door was unlocked.

The storehouse suites at Nermo – Six years from dream to reality

The suitors came in droves

The boys in the village stuck together. On Saturday evenings, they went from farm to farm in packs, with a lot of hustle and bustle. They knew where the girls were. And the girls knew they were coming.

If you came in a group, the visit was non-binding. It was difficult to know if any of the boys had their eye on a particular girl, or were just joining the trip. But after a few Saturdays, a pattern began to emerge. Maybe a girl fancied one of the guys. Then there was no more letting the whole gang in.

Instead, he had to sneak back alone. Later in the evening, when the others had moved on.

The bells rang

If a couple were discovered together, they could be exposed to being 'belled'. The other boys would run around the storehouse and make noise; cowbells would be rung and copper kettles with pebbles in them would be shook. There was and yelling. It was an announcement of sorts: now everyone knows that you two belong together.

In Sogn, it was a great shame if a couple who had been belled did not get married afterwards. So, the belling was not just for fun. It was a kind of unofficial engagement announcement.

In other places, they had "sprinkling". The boy would sprinkle a path of sawdust from his home to hers. A path that showed the whole village where the connection lay.

Not just romance

There was a distinction between night suitors and night runners. The suitors had marriage in mind. The runners were mostly looking to drink and have fun. Both varieties existed, and the villagers knew very well who was who.

The church archives from Alvdal in the 1860s contain an eight-page invitation to join an Association against Night Proposals and Night Running. Its purpose was to combat this 'pernicious practice'. Because not everyone thought the tradition was charming.

But it still continued. For generation after generation.

Eilert Sundt and the talk of the town

It was not until Eilert Sundt's 1857 book On the Condition of Morality in Norway that the general public really opened its eyes to the phenomenon of the night suitor. Suddenly, there was a public debate about the custom, and about all the children who were born out of wedlock in the villages.

Sundt himself was more nuanced than many of the practice's critics. He saw night courtship as a tradition with deep roots, and not just a form of promiscuity. He pointed out that in Sweden there were similar customs that 'persisted as a fine tradition'.

But one thing was certain: the storehouse was more than a storehouse for grain and hams. It was the place where young people met. Where engagements were made. Where life went on.

From treasure troves to romantic suites

The tradition lives on

Today, couples still come to the storehouse at Nermo Hotel. Not to propose in the dead of night, but to celebrate love in four beautiful suites. With a gas fireplace instead of candles. With handmade bathtubs. And with a well-stocked minibar instead of spirits and cookies.

But maybe it's not so different for all that. It's still about getting away from everyday life. About finding a private space, a little away from the rest of the world. About nights that turn into memories.

And the storehouse is still the stage. Only now the door can be locked. And the key is yours.