Part 1

SWEDISH FAIRY TALES

BY HERMAN HOFBERG.

TRANSLATED BY W. H. MYERS.

CHICAGO: BELFORD-CLARKE CO. 1890.

AUTHOR’S PREFACE.

It is probably known to most readers that there is a distinction between Tradition and Saga. Tradition has, or at least seems to have, to do with facts, usually designating some particular spot or region where the incident is said to have taken place, often even giving the names of actors, while the Saga is entirely free in its scope, equally as regards incident, and the time and place of its happening. Not infrequently the traditions of a people are founded upon actual historical occurrences, which, often repeated in the naïve manner of the peasantry, become, finally, folk-lore. A great many are, however, drawn from ancient myths, which, in time, become clad in historical garb, and are located in some particular place.

We already possess various collections of traditions drawn from the rich treasury of our peasantry, but up to the present there has been no attempt at a formulated compilation of Swedish folk-lore. As I now put into the hands of the public such a collection, I ought to state that I have thought it better to select the most typical of our traditions than to gather everything that I might in this line, much of which has already been written, and which would require a many times larger volume, and occasion a repetition of the same matter when occurring, as many do, in different localities. Instead, I have accompanied each tale with a historical and ethnographical note in which I have so stated if the tradition is found in different places.

The illustrations are the product of several among our best artists. Without doubt, the book has thereby been added to greatly, not only in outer adornment, but even in national and intrinsic value.

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE.

An interest in the Swedish people, their language, their literature and history; the important part the traditions of a people play in their history, character and domestic life, and that the traditions of the world play in its history and that of mankind, and that I would, if possible, add to the growing interest in that far-away, beautiful country, and that generous, hospitable people, have been the incentives to the labor involved in this translation; a labor not unmixed with pleasure, and not a little of that pleasure coming from the encouragement of my Swedish acquaintances.

No embellishment and not more than a faithful reproduction of the author’s ideas have been attempted, and I shall be happy, indeed, if I have done so excellent a writer as Mr. Hofberg, approximate justice in this regard.

I have taken the liberty to leave out a number of the author’s notes as unimportant, and not likely to interest the general reader, also to follow the stories with their notes instead of grouping them in the back of the book as in the original.

CONTENTS.

PAGE. AUTHOR’S PREFACE, 3 TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE, 4

SKÅNE.

LJUNGBY HORN AND PIPE, 31 STOMPE PILT, 15 THE GHOST AT FJELKINGE, 28 THE GIANT FINN AND LUND’S CATHEDRAL, 17 THE LORD OF ROSENDAL, 20 THE MASTER OF UGERUP, 23 THE SURE SHOT, 11

BLEKINGE.

THE KNIGHT OF ELLENHOLM, 39 THE SWAN MAIDEN, 35

SMÅLAND.

DAME SOÅSAN, 47 EBBE SKAMELSON, 60 JOHAN AND THE TROLLS, 65 KATRINEHOLM MANOR, 55 KETTIL RUNSKE, 45 THE GIANT PUKE, 52 THE LOST TREASURE, 69 THE TROLLS OF SKURUGATA, 42

GÖTLAND.

THE BYSE, 77 THE SEA NYMPH, 75 THE TEN FAIRY SERVANTS, 71

ÖLAND.

THE BRIDGE OVER KALMARSOUND, 78

HALLAND.

ELSTORPS WOODS, 84 THE FREEBOOTER’S GRAVE, 89 THE PIGMY OF FOLKARED’S CLIFF, 86 THE YOUNG LADY OF HELLERUP, 80

BOHUSLÄN.

GLOSHED’S ALTAR, 95 HÅLDE-HAT, 99 KING RANE AND QUEEN HUDTA, 107 THE BRIDAL PRESENT, 97 THE CHILD PHANTOM, 105 THE GIANT MAIDEN IN BORÅSERÖD MOUNTAIN, 91 THE GOLDEN CRADLE, 102

VESTERGÖTLAND.

BISHOP SVEDBERG AND THE DEVIL, 117 THE COUNTESS OF HÖJENTORP, 111 THE GIANT OF SKALUNDA, 113 THE KNIGHTS OF ÅLLABERG, 109 THE TREASURE IN SÄBY CREEK, 119 THE TROLLS IN RESSLARED, 115

ÖSTERGÖTLAND.

LADY BARBRO OF BROKIND, 129 THE CAT OF NORRHULT, 126 THE TOMTS, 122 THE TROLL SHOES, 134 THE URKO OF NORTH WIJ, 131

DAL.

BURIED ALIVE, 140 THE MOUNTAIN KITCHEN, 138 THE WOOD AND THE SEA NYMPHS, 136

VERMANLAND.

JONAS SPITS, 141 LADY RANGELA OF EDSHOLM, 143 SAXE OF SAXEHOLM, 145 THE HARVESTERS, 149 THE POLITE COAL BURNER, 147

NÄRIKE.

KATE OF YSÄTTER, 155 RUGGA BRIDGE, 153 THE ELVES’ DANCE, 159 THE FIDDLER AND THE SEA NYMPH, 162 THE ULFGRYT STONES, 150

VESTERMANLAND.

BOLSTRE CASTLE, 174 THE COAL BURNER AND THE TROLL, 169 THE SNIPE, 164 TIBBLE CASTLE AND KLINTA SPRING, 166

SÖDERMANLAND.

LAKE GOLDRING, 184 THE CHANGELINGS, 176 THE LADY OF PINTORP, 179 THE TROLL GARDEN AT STALLSBACKE, 187

UPLAND.

HERR MELKER OF VECKHOLM, 189 THE OLD MAN OF LOGGA, 192

DALARNE.

BÖLSBJÖRN, 197 THE LAPP IN MAGPIE FORM, 200 THE PLAGUE, 203 THE TREASURE SEEKERS, 198 THE WATER NYMPH, 194

GESTRIKLAND.

THE VÄTTERS, 205

HELSINGLAND.

FORSSA CHURCH, 208

MEDELPAD.

STARKAD AND BALE, 209

ÅNGERMANLAND.

THE BELL IN SJÄLEVAD, 212

HERJEDALEN.

THE VÄTTS STOREHOUSE, 214

JÄMTLAND.

THE STONE IN GRÖNAN DAL, 216

VESTERBOTTEN.

THE VOYAGE IN A LAPP SLED, 218

LAPPLAND.

KADNIHAK, 227 THE CUNNING LAPP, 224 THE GIANT’S BRIDE, 221 THE LAPP GENESIS OR THE FIRST OF MANKIND, 219

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE. BISHOP SVEDBERG AND THE DEVIL, 117 BOLSTRE CASTLE, 174 DAME SOÅSAN, 47 HÅLDE-HAT, 99 HERR MELKER IN VECKHOLM, 189 JOHAN AND THE TROLLS, 65 JONAS SPITS, 141 KATE OF YSÄTTER, 155 KATRINEHOLM MANOR, 55 LADY BARBRO OF BROKIND, 129 STARKAD AND BALE, 209 THE BRIDGE OVER KALMARSOUND, 78 THE BELL IN SJÄLEVAD, 212 THE CHILD PHANTOM, 105 THE COAL BURNER AND THE TROLL, 169 THE CUNNING LAPP, 224 THE ELVES’ DANCE, 159 THE GHOST OF FJELKINGE, 28 THE GIANT MAIDEN IN BORÅSERÖD MOUNTAIN, 91 THE GIANT OF SKALUNDA, 113 THE KNIGHTS OF ÅLLABERG, 109 THE LADY OF PINTORP, 179 THE LAPP IN MAGPIE FORM, 200 THE LORD OF ROSENDAL, 20 THE MOUNTAIN KITCHEN, 138 THE PIGMY OF FOLKARED CLIFF, 86 THE POLITE COAL BURNER, 147 THE SNIPE, 164 THE STONE IN GRÖNAN DAL, 216 THE SURE SHOT, 11 THE SWAN MAIDEN, 35 THE TEN FAIRY SERVANTS, 71 THE TOMTS, 122 THE TROLL GARDEN AT STALLSBACKE, 187 THE TROLLS OF SKURUGATA, 41 THE TROLL SHOES, 134 THE ULFGRYT STONES, 150 THE VÄTTERS, 205 THE VÄTTS STOREHOUSE, 214 THE WATER NYMPH, 194 THE YOUNG LADY OF HELLERUP, 80

THE SURE SHOT. [1]

It is not alone in Bohemia’s mountainous regions that the romantic characters are found which form the basis of Weber’s immortal fictions. Similar traditions are current in many lands, especially in ours, one of which we will now relate.

In the artless fancy of the peasantry the means of acquiring the power of unerring aim are many, the most usual by compact with the Fairies or Wood Nymphs. While the compact lasts the possessor, sitting at his hut door, needs only to wish, and the game of his choice springs into view, and within range of his never-failing gun. Such a compact, however, invariably ends in the destruction of the hunter.

Many years ago there was a watchman up in the Göinge regions, a wild fellow, who, one evening, while drinking with his neighbors, more tipsy and more talkative as the hour grew late, boasted loudly of his marksmanship, and offered to wager that, with his trusty gun, he could give them such an exhibition of skill as they had never before seen.

“There goes, as I speak,” said he, “a roe on Halland’s Mountains.”

His companions laughed at him, not believing that he could know what was transpiring at a distance of several miles, which was the least that lay between them and the spot indicated.

“I will wager you that I need go no farther than the door to shoot him for you,” persevered the watchman in defiant tones.

“Nonsense!” said the others.

“Come, will you wager something worth the while? Say two cans of ale.”

“Done! Two cans of ale, it shall be.” And the company betook themselves to the yard in front of the hut.

It was a frosty autumn evening. The wind chased the clouds over the sky, and the half moon cast fitful reflections through the breaks over the neighborhood. In a few minutes a something was seen moving rapidly along the edge of a thicket on the farther side of a little glade. The watchman threw his gun carelessly to his shoulder and fired. A derisive laugh was echo to the report. No mortal, thought they, in such uncertain light and at such a distance, could shoot a deer in flight.

The watchman, certain of his game, hastened across the glade, followed by his companions, to whom the event meant, at least, two cans of ale.

It would not be easy to picture the surprise of the doubters, when, upon arriving at the thicket, they discovered, lying upon the ground, bathed in foam and his tongue hanging from his mouth, a magnificent stag, pierced through the heart by the deadly bullet, his life blood fast coloring his bed of autumn leaves a brighter hue.

What unseen power has brought this poor animal from Halland’s Mountains in a bare half hour? Such were the thoughts of the watchman’s companions as they retired in silence to the hut.

The watchman received his two cans of ale, but no one seemed inclined to join him in disposing of them. They now understood with what sort of a man they were having to do. It was evident to them that the watchman was in league with the Evil One himself, and they henceforth guarded themselves carefully against companionship with him after dark.

STOMPE PILT.

At a little distance from Baal Mountain, in the parish of Filkestad, in Willand’s Härad, lies a hill where, formerly, lived a giant named Stompe Pilt.

It happened one day, that a Goatherd came that way, driving his goats before him, up the hill.

“Who comes there?” demanded the Giant, rushing out of the hill, with a large flint stone in his fist, when he discovered the Goatherd.

“It is I, if you will know,” responded the Herder, continuing his way up the hill with his flock.

“If you come up here I will squeeze you into fragments as I do this stone,” shrieked the Giant, and crushed the stone between his fingers into fine sand.

“Then I will squeeze water out of you as I do out of this stone,” replied the Herder, taking a new-made cheese from his bag and squeezing it so that the whey ran between his fingers to the ground.

“Are you not afraid?” asked the Giant.

“Not of you,” replied the Herder.

“Then let us fight,” continued Stompe Pilt.

“All right,” responded the Goatherd, “but let us first taunt each other so that we will become right angry, for taunting will beget anger and anger will give us cause to fight.”

“Very well, and I will begin,” said the Giant.

“Go ahead, and I will follow you,” said the Herder.

“You shall become a crooked nose hobgoblin,” cried the Giant.

“You shall become a flying devil,” retorted the Herder, and from his bow shot a sharp arrow into the body of the Giant.

“What is that?” inquired the Giant, endeavoring to pull the arrow from his flesh.

“That is a taunt,” replied the Herder.

“Why has it feathers?” asked the Giant.

“In order that it may fly straight and rapidly,” answered the Herder.

“Why does it stick so fast?” asked the Giant.

“Because it has taken root in your body,” was the answer.

“Have you more of such?” inquired the Giant.

“There, you have another,” said the Herder, and shot another arrow into the Giant’s body.

“Aj! aj!” shrieked Stompe Pilt; “are you not angry enough to fight?”

“No, I have not yet taunted you enough,” replied the Herder, setting an arrow to his bowstring.

“Drive your goats where you will. I can’t endure your taunting, much less your blows,” shrieked Stompe Pilt, and sprang into the hill again.

Thus the Herder was saved by means of his bravery and ingenuity.

THE GIANT FINN AND LUND’S CATHEDRAL. [2]

In the days long gone by there lived in Helgonabacken—the Hills of Helgona—near Lund, a family of giants who one day heard, with great anxiety and consternation, that a holy man had come into the country, from Saxony, to build a church to the White Christ.

While Laurentius, such was the holy man’s name, was selecting his site and laying out the plans for the temple, there stood at his side, one day, none other than Finn, the giant of Helgonabacken, who thus addressed him: “Truly the White Christ is a God worthy of such a temple, and I will build it for you, if, when it is finished, you will tell me what my name is; but, mark well my condition, oh, wise man, if you can not tell me, you must give to my little ones the two small torches—the sun and the moon—that travel yonder over heaven’s expanse.”

Now, it is so ordered in the giant world that it is of vital importance the name of the giant should be kept from mankind. Should it be revealed the giant must die, and man is freed from all obligations that may have been imposed upon him by compact with the giant.

Laurentius could not reasonably promise so much but anxious to have the church built, he offered, instead, his eyes, trusting to fortune to discover to him the giant’s name before the completion of the church. The giant, satisfied with the bargain, entered at once upon his work, and with wonderful rapidity the church grew upward. Soon there remained nothing more to complete it than to set one stone on the tower.

The day preceding that on which it was expected this last stone would be put in place Laurentius stood on Helgonabacken in deep melancholy. It seemed inevitable that he must lose his eyes, and that he was now taking his last look at the light of heaven and all that had made the world and life so attractive to him. Next day all would be darkness and sorrow. During these gloomy reflections he heard the cry of a child from within the hill, and the voice of the giant mother endeavoring to quiet it with a song, in which he clearly distinguished the words: “Silent, silent, little son of mine, morning will bring your father Finn, with either moon and sun or the priest Laurentius’ eyes.”

Beside himself with joy, Laurentius hastened to the church. “Come down, Finn!” he cried, “the stone that now remains we ourselves can set—come down, Finn, we no longer need your help!”

Foaming with rage, the Giant rushed from the tower to the ground, and laying hold of one of the pillars tried to pull the church down. At this instant his wife with her child joined him. She, too, grasped a pillar and would help her husband in the work of destruction, but just as the building was tottering to the point of falling, they were both turned to stones, and there they lie to-day, each embracing a pillar.

THE LORD OF ROSENDAL. [3]

In the beginning of the Sixteenth Century there lived in Skåne a nobleman, Andres Bille, Lord of Rosendal, who was very severe toward his dependents, and it was not unusual that a disobedient servant was put in chains, and even into the castle dungeons.

One day Bille’s intended made a visit to Rosendal. Upon entering the court-yard almost the first object that attracted her attention was a peasant tethered like a horse. She inquiring as to the cause of such treatment, Bille informed her that the servant had come late to work, and was now suffering only well-merited punishment. The young woman begged Bille to set the man at liberty, but this he refused to do, and told her, emphatically, that she must not interpose in his affairs.

“When the intended wife,” said the young lady, as she returned to her carriage, “is refused a boon so small, what will be the fate of the wife?” and thereupon she commanded her coachman to drive her home at once, and resolved to come no more to Rosendal.

People predicted that such a heartless man could not possibly be at rest in his grave, and true to the prediction, Bille, after his death and burial, came every night, in spirit, to Rosendal. Halting his white team in the court-yard, with stealthy steps he would make his way to his former bed-chamber where he would spend the night until cock-crow. If the bed had been prepared all was quiet in the chamber, otherwise such a dreadful noise followed that there was no such thing as sleep in the castle. Always, upon going to the room in the morning, the bed clothes were found tossed about and soiled as if a dog had occupied the bed.

When the specter had gone on in this manner for a number of years, the new owner of the estate applied to a pious priest in Hässlunda, Master Steffan, and begged him to put a stop to these troublesome visits. To this end the priest, one day, accompanied by a fellow priest, set out for Kropp’s Church, where Bille was buried. On the stroke of 12 o’clock, midnight, the grave opened and the ghost of the dead lord stepped forth. Father Steffan’s companion at once took to his heels, but Father Steffan remained and began to read from a book he had with him. During the reading the ghost became larger and larger, but the priest would not be frightened. Finally the apparition interrupted the reading and addressed the priest.

“Is that you, Steffan, the goose thief?”

“It is, indeed, I,” replied the priest, “and it is true that in my boyhood I stole a goose, but with the money received for the goose I bought a Bible, and with that Bible I will send you to hell, you evil spirit.” Whereupon he struck the specter such a blow on the forehead with the Bible that it sank again into purgatory.

Unfortunately, because of the truth of Bille’s accusation and that it came from Bille, the priest’s prayers and reading lost much of potency, and he was unable to enforce upon the ghost entire quietude. Nevertheless, so much was accomplished that Bille now comes to Rosendal only once a year.

THE MASTER OF UGERUP. [4]

In the parish of Köpinge, on the northern bank of a stream which, a short distance below Lake Helga, flows into the river Helga, lies an old mansion, Ugerup or Ugarp, known in early days as the seat of the Ugerup family, famous in the history of Denmark.

In the middle of the Sixteenth Century the estate was owned by Senator Axel Ugerup. On the Näs estate, a few miles distant, dwelt the wealthy Tage Thott, at that time one of the richest men in Skåne.

Herr Arild, Alex Ugerup’s son, and Thale, Tage Thott’s fair daughter, had, it may be said, grown up together, and even in childhood, had conceived a strong love for each other.

When Arild was yet a young man he was made embassador to Sweden by the Danish Government, in which capacity he took part in the coronation of Erik XIV. Upon his return to Ugerup he renewed his attentions to his boyhood’s love, and without difficulty obtained her consent and that of her parents to a union.

Not long thereafter war broke out between Sweden and Denmark. With anxiety and distress the lovers heard the call to arms. The flower of Danish knighthood hastened to place themselves under the ensign of their country, where even for Arild Ugerup a place was prepared. At leave taking the lovers promised each other eternal fidelity, and Arild was soon in Copenhagen, where he was given a position in the navy.

In the beginning the Danes met with some success, but soon the tables were turned. At Öland Klas Kristenson Horn defeated the united Danish and Leibich flotillas, capturing three ships, with their crews and belongings. Among the captured was Arild Ugerup, who was carried, a prisoner, to Stockholm, where three short years before he was an honored visitor and won his knightly spurs.

The friends of Arild entertained little hope that they would ever see him again, and his rivals for the hand of Thale persistently renewed their suits. Tage Thott, who saw his daughter decline the attentions of one lover after another, decided, finally, that this conduct must not continue, and made known to his daughter that she must choose a husband from among the many available and desirable young men seeking her hand. Thale took this announcement very much to heart, but her prayers and tears were without avail. Spring succeeded winter and no Arild came. Meanwhile, the unrelenting father had made a choice and fixed upon a day when the union should take place.

During this time Arild, languishing in his prison, busied his brain in the effort to find some means of escape, but plan after plan was rejected as impracticable, until it occurred to him to make use of his rank and acquaintance with the King. So, not long thereafter, he sent to King Erik a petition, asking permission to go home on parole, for the purpose of solemnizing his wedding, also to be permitted to remain long enough in Ugerup to sow and gather his crops. The King readily granted his petition, since Arild promised, on his knightly honor, to return to his confinement as soon as his harvest was ripe.

He at once hastened to Skåne where he was not long in learning what had transpired during his absence, and that Thale, at her father’s bidding, was about to be wedded to another. Continuing his journey to Näs, where his arrival caused both rejoicing and consternation, he presented himself to Tage and demanded Thale to wife, as had been promised him. Knight Tage, however, would not listen to such a thing as a change from his plans, and declared firmly that his daughter should belong to him whom he had selected for her, but Arild made a speedy end to the trouble. By strategy, he carried his bride away in secret to Denmark, where they were shortly afterward married. Tage, outwitted, made the best of the matter and accepted the situation, whereupon Arild and his wife returned to Ugerup.

Arild now had time to think about his promise to the King, and how he might, at the same time, keep it and not be separated from his wife. It would now profit to sow seeds that would not mature soon, so the fields that had heretofore been devoted to corn were planted with the seeds of the pine tree.

When the autumn had passed, and the King thought the harvest must, by this time, have been gathered, he sent Arild a request to come to Stockholm. But Arild convinced the messenger that his seeds had not yet sprouted, much less ripened.

When King Erik was made acquainted with the state of affairs, he could do no less than approve the ingenious method adopted by Arild to obtain his freedom without breaking his word, and allowed the matter to rest.

The product of Arild’s pine seeds is now shown in a magnificent forest at Ugerup.