Part 9

The peasant, as he was instructed, began to cut the tree, which fell with a great crash at the third blow of his ax. Taking his seat upon the trunk, the tree at once began to move as if drawn by horses. The speed was soon so great that opposing fences and gates were brushed aside like straws, and in a short time the oak had arrived at the designated spot in the castle yard. Just as the tree top struck the castle gate one of the invisible haulers stumbled, and a voice was heard to say, “What, you on your knees, Svante?”

The lady who was standing upon the steps at the time understood, without anything further, who had been the laborer’s helpers, but instead of repenting she began to swear, scold and in the end, to threaten the man with imprisonment. Hereupon there was an earthquake which shook the walls of the castle, and a black carriage drawn by two black horses stood in the castle yard. A handsome man dressed in black stepped from the carriage, bowed to the lady and bade her prepare to follow him. Tremblingly—for she knew well who the stranger was—she begged him to let her remain three years yet; to this the visitor would not consent. She begged for three months; this was also denied her, and at last she prayed for three days, then three hours, but was allowed only three minutes in which to dispose of her household affairs.

When she saw that prayers availed her nothing she asked him to, at least, allow her curate, chambermaid and house servants to go with her on the journey. This was granted, so they entered the carriage, which was instantly under way and went off at such a speed that the people who stood in the yard saw nothing but a black streak behind it.

When the lady and her followers had ridden some time they came to a lighted castle, up the steps of which the black gentleman conducted them. Arriving in the hall, he deprived the lady of her rich clothes and gave her instead a coarse gown and wooden shoes. Next he combed her hair three times with such a vengeance that the blood streamed from her head, and concluded by dancing with her three times until her shoes were filled with blood.

After the first dance she asked permission to give her gold ring to her chamberlain, whose fingers were burned by it as with fire. After the second dance she gave the chambermaid her key ring, which scorched her fingers as if glowing iron. At the termination of the third dance a trap in the floor opened and the woman vanished in a cloud of smoke and flames.

The priest who stood nearest peeped with curiosity into the opening where the woman had gone down, when a spark came up from below and hit him in the eye so that thereafter he had but one eye.

When all was over the gentleman in black gave the servants permission to return home, but with strong injunctions not to look back. Hurriedly they sprang into the carriage. The way was broad and straight, and the horses galloped with great speed, but the chambermaid could not control her curiosity, and looked back. Instantly the carriage, horses, even the road disappeared and the travelers found themselves in a wild forest, where they wandered three years before finding their way back to Pintorp.

LAKE GOLDRING. [30]

About a mile and a half from Strengnäs lies a narrow valley, between several wood-covered heights and the island upon which in olden times Ingiald Illrada burned herself and all her attendants.

The valley is called Eldsund, and was formerly an open water way connecting two of lake Mälar’s bays. Vessels went, then, unhindered through there, and not many years ago a sunken vessel was found, buried in the mud that had one time been at its bottom. Now there is nothing but a small stream winding its way between grass-grown banks, and cows and goats graze where the perch and the pike formerly had their playground.

At one place this little stream spreads its banks until a small lake is formed, which was once of quite respectable size, but is now almost grown over with reeds. Many a poor man has there caught a fish for his pot, that otherwise would have been empty enough.

A good while back there lived a lady on the estate not far from this lake, perhaps as near as Näsbyholm, upon which, near the water-course, lies the notable “cuckoo stone.”

This lady was very rich and still more proud, looking with contempt upon all who had less money and lands than she, and were not of as noble blood as she believed herself to be.

One day an old priest visited her. A priest in all respects, not one of those accommodating fellows that could be sent to stir the fire, or one who went with bent back away from home and was painfully straight at home, but a priest who did not hide his thoughts under a chair.

While the priest and his hostess were one day walking along the lake shore, she began, as was her habit, to boast of her riches; to tell how much money she had at interest, and how many tax lists she had complete and incomplete, whereupon the priest asked her how far she thought all that went, or what, after all, it amounted to, for she could not take her riches with her into the grave. At this the lady became angered, and declared that she was so rich that if she should live even many hundreds of years she need not want, and that it was as impossible that she should become poor as it would be to recover her gold ring from the depths of the lake—at the same time drawing a ring from her finger and casting it far out into the water.

The priest maintained that as wonderful things as this had happened in the world, and that it was not more impossible that her ring might be recovered than that she might become poor.

Later in the day an old fisherman came to the house with fish to sell. A number were bought, and the kitchen girl was given the task of cleaning them.

When she cut open the largest pike, she saw something shining, and, upon looking with greater care, she recognized her mistress’ most valuable finger ring. In great haste she rushed to the lady, who sat wrangling with the moderate priest because he could think it possible her riches might be taken from her.

“Has my lady lost her ring?” asked the maid.

The lady ceased to talk, and cast a glance at the priest, who sat quietly at the window looking out toward the lake.

“Here it is, any way,” said the maid, and laid the ring upon the table.

The lady grew pale, but the priest looked more serious than ever.

How it went with her and her riches thereafter, the story does not relate, but the lake is called Goldring to this day.

THE TROLL’S GARDEN AT STALLSBACKE.

In the forest north of Stora Djulö, in the parish of Stora Malm, lies a hill called Stallsbacke—Stall Hill—because King Charles XI. is said to have had his stable there on one of his journeys.

Within the forest near the hill there is an enchanted garden where many a man has gone astray, and has been compelled to wander the whole night through, because he did not know that turning his coat inside out, or throwing fire at the sun, would give him the key to his deliverance.

Many have, during these wanderings, been imprisoned in the enchanted garden, but not all have liberated themselves from the enchantment as old Löfberg, the steward from Stora Djulö, succeeded in doing.

Late one Thursday evening, while traveling the path from the pasture home to the mansion, he found himself suddenly in the presence of a high wall with grated gates, beyond which was visible the most beautiful garden ever seen by man. The moon was high in the heavens, and Löfberg could distinguish objects as clearly as in daylight. He saw that the trees hung full of fruit, and that the bushes were bowed with berries, which glistened like precious stones. When he had viewed the magnificent sight a few minutes, and was about to go on, an old man, who proclaimed himself the gardener, presented himself, and invited Löfberg to go in and gather of the fruit what he pleased. But Löfberg was too wise for this. He understood that what he saw was the work of the Trolls, and answered that at home there was a much more beautiful garden, and that he had no occasion to go into strange gardens to get a few rotten, sour apples.

This he should not have said. Suddenly there came up a strong wind, which blew his hat over the wall, and, as Löfberg left it behind him and hastened home, there came a crash in the forest, whereupon the vision suddenly melted away.

HERR MELKER OF VECKHOLM. [31]

In the parish of Veckholm, east of Svingarn Fjord, lived, in the fifteenth century, a priest widely known for his wisdom and goodness. No day went by that he did not read his Bible, and in the evening, when others had gone to rest, he went to the church to offer up his prayers at the altar.

His wife, who attended only to her worldly affairs, and did not look upon these nightly ramblings kindly, determined to put an end to them, and to this end, one evening, called into service one of the servants. “Lasse,” said she, “if you will put a white sheet over you and stand in the dark near the path and frighten father when he comes from the church, you shall have a pot of ale.”

The man had nothing against this, and with the assistance of his mistress, clad himself as directed and took a position near the path connecting the church and parsonage.

After a while the priest came from the church. Upon observing the spook, he read a prayer and bade the apparition sink into the ground.

The man sank into the ground to his knees without betraying himself, but continued to play the ghost. The priest prayed again, when Lasse sank into the ground to his waist.

“It is I! dear father! it is I!” cried Lasse, now in consternation.

“It is too late! too late, Lasse!” replied the priest, with a sorrowful voice. At the same time the servant sank alive into the earth out of sight.

To commemorate the incident, a wooden cross was raised on the spot, which is always replaced by a new one when the old one has become old and decayed.

THE OLD MAN OF LAGGA.

Near Lagga Church, in the municipality of Langhundra, is a singularly formed mountain. On the side of it toward the church is an opening, from which, it is said, two paths lead—the one south to a hill near the so called “Meadow Watcher’s Cottage,” the other north to Kashögen, near Kasby estate.

In the mountain lived a giant called Lagge Gubben—old man Lagge—who, when last seen, was at least five hundred years old, and his hair as white as the feathers of a dove.

Early one morning a peasant named Jacob going to the village of Lagga, passed the mountain, when the old mountain man came out and saluted him: “Good morning, Joppe! Will you come in and drink healths with me?”

“No, thank you,” replied Jacob, who had no desire for such companionship. “If you have more than you are able to drink, save it until morning, for there is another day coming.”

“That is good advice,” said Lagga. “Had I known that before, I should have been a richer man, now.”

“It is not yet too late,” replied the peasant.

“Yes it is, for I must leave here in the morning on account of the church bells,” said the giant, shaking his fist at Lagga clock tower.

“You will come again, never fear,” said Jacob consolingly.

“Yes, when Lagga Fjord becomes a field and Ostund Lake a meadow,” replied the giant with a sigh, and disappeared into the mountain.

THE WATER NYMPH. [32]

About a mile northwest from Järna Church was located, at one time, a water mill, Snöåqvarn, belonging to the parishioners of Näs.

One Sunday morning, before the church of Järna had a priest of its own, the chaplain of Näs set out for that place, and had just arrived at the mill, when he saw a water man sitting in the rapids below it, playing on a fiddle a psalm from a psalm book.

“What good do you think your playing will do you?” said the priest. “You need expect no mercy!”

Sadly the figure ceased playing, and broke his fiddle in pieces, whereupon the priest regretted his severe condemnation, and again spoke:

“God knows, maybe, after all.”

“Is that so?” exclaimed the man in joy, “then I’ll pick up my pieces and play better and more charmingly than before.”

To another mill in the same parish, Lindqvarn, near Lindsnäs, a peasant came one time with his grist. Along in the night he thought he would go and see if it was yet ground. He noticed on his arrival that the mill was not running, and opened the wicket to the wheel-house to learn what the matter might be, when he saw, glaring at him from the water below, two eyes “as large as half moons.”

“The devil! what great eyes you have!” cried the peasant, but received no reply.

“Whew! what monstrous eyes you have!” the peasant again cried; again no answer.

Then he sprang into the mill, where he stirred up a large fire brand, with which he returned.

“Are your eyes as large now?” he shouted through the wicket.

“Yes!” came in answer from the stream.

Hereupon the peasant ran the stick through a hole in the floor, where the voice seemed to come from, and at once the wheel began to turn again.

BÖLSBJÖRN. [33]

Many generations ago there lived at Bole, in the parish of Ore, a man named Bölsbjörn, noted far and wide for his wonderful strength.

The king, hearing about him, commanded him to come to Stockholm and wrestle with a newly arrived foreign champion named Stenbock, who was said to be so strong that he had never found his superior.

Bölsbjörn hastened to obey the king’s command. Strapping his skates upon him, he set off at such a speed that his dog, which had followed him, gave out and died on the way, and the new-baked bread put into his haversack was yet warm upon his arrival at Stockholm.

He was conducted to the king, and was told that he might name his own reward, however great it might be, if he would vanquish Stenbock.

The struggle was soon begun and suddenly concluded by Bölsbjörn laying his antagonist upon his back with such force that three of his ribs were broken. For his reward, Bölsbjörn demanded as much land as he could skate around in one day, and it was granted him by the king.

When he returned home he had made the circuit of nearly twelve square miles of land, which his descendants to this day occupy.

THE TREASURE SEEKERS.

It is an established rule that he who seeks buried treasures must carefully maintain the utmost silence, lest his search be in vain and harm befall him, body and soul.

They were not ignorant of this—the four men that one time made up a party for the purpose of unearthing treasures said to be buried in Josäterdal.

Making their way, one midsummer night, across Lake Sälen, they saw approaching them a man of strange aspect, behind whose boat dragged a large fir tree, and a little later another, who inquired if they had seen any float-wood on their way.

The treasure seekers, who understood that these rowers were no other than fairies, pretended not to hear the question, and reached Josäterdal finally, without further temptation.

Just as they began to dig in the hill a grand officer approached and addressed them, but no one answered. Soon after a number of soldiers marched up and began to shoot at the diggers, but they did not allow even this to disturb them. Suddenly a red calf hopped up and the soldiers pressed nearer, so that the men soon stood enveloped in powder-smoke so thick that they could not see each other. When this did not frighten them, a tall gallows was raised on the side of the hill. It so happened that one of the diggers wore a red shirt that attracted the attention of the spirits, one of which cried out:

“Shall we begin with him wearing the red shirt?” Whereupon he lost his courage and took to his heels, followed neck over head by the others.

THE LAPP IN MAGPIE FORM. [34]

A Finn in the forests of Säfsen, having for a long time suffered ill luck with his flock, determined, let the cost be what it would, to find, through a Lapp well versed in the arts of the Trolls, a remedy for the evil he was enduring.

To this end he set out for the home of his to-be-deliverer, and after a long and fatiguing journey through the wilderness, he came at last to a Lapp hut which, with no little quaking, he entered, and there found a man busied with a fire upon the floor.

The Lapp who, through his connection with the Trolls, already knew the purpose of the visit, and very much flattered thereby, greeted his guest kindly, and said:

“Good morning, Juga, my boy, are you here? I can give you news from home. Everything goes well there. I was there yesterday.”

The Finn was terribly frightened at the discovery that he was recognized, but now more when he heard that the Lapp had made the same journey forth and back in one day, that had cost him so many days of wandering.

With assurance of friendship, the Lapp quieted his fears, and continued:

“I had a little matter to attend to yesterday at your home, and sat upon the housetop when your wife went over the garden, but I saw she did not know me, for she threatened me with the house key.”

The Finn now made known his errand, and received for answer that his animals were even now doing as well as he could wish. The presents brought by the Finn greatly strengthened their pleasant relations, and the Lapp agreed willingly to initiate him into the mysteries of Trolldom.

When the Finn reached home, the incidents of his journey were circumstantially related to his wife, even to the Lapp’s account of his visit, and the threats with the house key.

“Yes, I remember now,” said she, “that a magpie sat upon the roof the same day that the animals seemed to revive, but I believed it to be an unlucky bird, therefore tried to frighten it away with the key.”

The Finn and his wife now understood that it was their friend, who had transformed himself thus in order to do them a service, and from that time held these creatures in great veneration.

THE PLAGUE. [35]

Memories of the epidemics that have ravaged our country still live in the minds of the people, though, with time, like many other recollections, they have taken the form of myths.

During the plague there was seen, wandering from village to village, a boy and a girl, the one with a rake, the other with a broom. Wherever the boy was seen to use his rake, one and another was spared from death, but where the girl swept, death left an empty house, and the places that were not approached by these beings escaped the plague entirely.

On Soller Island, in Siljan, they strewed gold and precious stones along the roads and paths, which were so infected that he who so much as moved one with his hand became a corpse before the next sunset.

In the end there remained no one on the island except two wise old men, one named Bengh, the other Harold, who were not deluded by the gold, thereby saving their lives.

A number of the islanders escaped by flight and moved to the North Land through the “Twelve-Mile Roads,” that bordered upon Vermland.

Among those who fled was a young and beautiful maiden named Malin, who, when she came out upon the road, observed a glittering jewel, which, upon closer inspection, represented Christ upon the cross. Notwithstanding the warning of her companions, she could not resist the temptation to pick up the doubly valuable article.

When they came later to their first camping place, Rossberg, about four miles from Soller Island, Malin was seen to fall upon her knees and give herself up to earnest prayer, but just as the evening sun hid himself behind a mountain, she sank lifeless upon a stone, which even to this day is called “Malin’s Church,” and is dressed every midsummer by the herdsmen with fresh leaves and fragrant flowers.

THE VÄTTERS. [36]

Vätters, according to the Northern belief, are creatures that live under ground, but often appear above, and then in human form so perfect that they have many times been mistaken for mankind. They live, as do the Trolls and Giants, in mountains, but more often move from one to another, and it is mostly during these journeys that they are seen.

When the parish of Ockilbo was first settled, the Vätters were so plentiful that a peasant who fixed his abode near the Rönn Hills was forced to build his windows high up near the eaves of his cottage to escape seeing the troublesome multitude of these beings that continually swarmed around.

Despite the disposition of the cottager to have nothing to do with the Vätters, he could not avoid getting into complications with them at times.

One evening, when the wife went to drive the goats into the goat house, she saw among hers two strange goats, having horsehoofs instead of cloven hoofs, as should be. Do her utmost, it was impossible to separate them from the others. They pressed on, and were locked up with the rest.

In the night she was awakened by a heavy pounding upon the walls, and a voice from without called:

“Let us be neighborly, mother, and return my goats to me.”

The woman dressed herself and hastened to the goat house, where the strange animals were making a dreadful uproar. Upon her opening the door they sprang out and hurried to the forest, whence she heard the Vätters shouting and calling them.

Thus a friendly feeling was forever established between the cottager and the Vätters, and from that day there were no more disturbances.

FORSSA CHURCH.

In the village Tåsta—Tattestad—in the parish of Hög, lived in former times a widely renowned man named Tatte, whose son, Blacke, after whom the high mountain, Blackåsberg, was named, dwelt in Nannestad, a village in the parish of Forssa.

When the father and son were baptized they together built the church of Hög, in commemoration of the event. Upon its completion Blacke, whose home was a long ride distant, stipulated that the bells, calling the people to worship, should never be rung until his white horse was seen on Åsaks Hill.