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. [[16]]
“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. [[17]]
The Giant Finn and Lund’s Cathedral.[1]
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 [[18]]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, [[19]]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. [[20]]
[1] Similar legends are connected with a number of our churches, as the cathedral of Trondhjem, where the Troll is called “Skalle.” Also with Eskellsätter’s church in the department of Näs in Vermland, where the giant architect is called Kinn, who fell from the tower when the priest Eskil called, “Kinn, set the point right!” Again, with a church in Norrland, where the Troll is called “Wind and Weather,” and concerning whom the legend relates “that just as the giant was putting up the cross, St. Olof said ‘Wind and Weather you have set the spire awry.’” Of the church at Kallundborg in Själland, whose designer, Ebern Snare, it is said, entered into a contract much the same as that made with the Giant Finn by the holy Laurentius. [↑]
The Lord of Rosendal.[1]
In the beginning of the Sixteenth Century there lived in Skåne a nobleman, Andres Bille, Lord of [[21]]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 [[22]]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. [[23]]
[1] See G. Lundgren’s Skanska Herrgårdar, Vol. I. [↑]
The Master of Ugerup.[1]
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 [[24]]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 [[25]]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 [[26]]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.
Many other stories are told in Skåne about Arild Ugerup and his wife. Among others, it is related of the former that he was endowed with marvelous strength, and that in the arch of the gateway opening into the estate was a pair of iron hooks, which, when coming home from Helsingborg, Arild was wont to catch hold of, and lift himself and horse together some distance off the ground, after which little exercise he would ride on.
His wife, Thale, was, like her husband, very strong, very good and benevolent, likewise very generous [[27]]toward her dependents. A story is told of her, that one mid-summer evening, when the servants of the estate were gathered on the green for a dance, she requested her husband to give the people as much food and drink as she could carry at one load, and her request being, of course, granted, she piled up two great heaps of beef, pork and bread, which, with two barrels of ale, one under each arm, she carried out onto the green, with ease. [[28]]
[1] Arild Ugerup, the character in chief of this legend, was born in the year 1528 in the castle of Sölversborg, where his father, Axel Ugerup, was master. When the son had passed through the parochial school of Herrevad, and had attained to the age of manhood, he marched, with others, to guard the old Kristian Tyrann in Kallundborg castle. Some years later he was sent as Danish embassador, to be present at the crowning of King Erik XIV., when he was made Knight of the Order of St. Salvador. Later he was sent as envoy to the Russian court, and in 1587 was raised to Lord of Helsingborg, where he died in 1587, and was buried in Ugerup (now Köpinge) church.
Another legend, in which the seeds of the pine tree were sown, comes from Östergötland. A lady of the nobility, living in Sölberga, had a son, who, in the battle of Stångebro took sides with King Sigismund, and when the battle was lost had to fly the country. The aged mother mourned deeply over her son’s absence, and besieged Duke Karl with prayers to allow her misguided son to return home, to make her a visit, at least.
At last he was granted permission to return and visit his mother until—the order read, “The next harvest.” Whereupon the mother sowed pine seeds on the fields of Sölberg, which accounts for the uncommonly fine forests of pine even now existing on the estate. [↑]
