The Knight of Ellenholm.
Many, many years ago there lived, in Ellenholm Castle, a knight, who, wishing to attend Christmas matins at Morrum’s Church, with a long journey before him, and anxious to be present if possible at first matins, set out from the castle, accompanied by his groom, immediately after midnight. Some distance on the way, feeling sleepy, he instructed the groom to ride on while he dismounted and sat down by the roadside, at the foot of a mountain, to take a nap and refresh himself.
He had been sitting only a few minutes when a monster giantess came and bade him follow her into the mountain, which he did, and was conducted to the presence of her giant husband. Here all kinds of tempting viands were set before him, but the Knight, who knew well into what kind of company he had fallen, declined to partake of the food.
Offended at this, the woman drew forth a knife and addressed the Knight:
“Do you recognize this? It is the one with which you chopped me in the thigh when, one time, I was gathering hay for my calves. Father, what do you think we ought to do with him?”
“Let him go,” said the Giant. “We can do nothing to him for he invokes the Great Master too much.” [[40]]
“So be it,” said the Giantess, “but he shall have something to remember me by.” Whereupon she broke the Knight’s little finger.
He soon discovered himself in the open air again, and the groom who had returned to search for his master found him in the place where he had left him, but with a little finger broken—a warning to every one not to sleep on the way to church. [[42]]
The Trolls of Skurugata.[1]
It is generally understood that Trolls, when their territory is encroached upon by mankind, withdraw to some more secluded place. So when Eksjö was built, those that dwelt in that vicinity moved to Skurugata, a defile between two high mountains whose perpendicular sides rise so near to each other as to leave the bottom in continual semi-darkness and gloom.
Here, it may be supposed, they were left in peace and tranquility. Not so, however, for it is related that upon the occasion of the annual meeting of troops at Ränneslätt, a whole battalion of Småland grenadiers repeatedly marched through, with beating drums and blowing horns, and that sometimes they fired a volley from their guns, which so alarmed the Trolls that it is now a question whether any are still remaining there.
In the neighborhood of the same mountain gulch is a very sacred fountain where those living thereabouts, in former times are said to have offered sacrifices to their patron saint. Whether this custom is now [[43]]continued is not known. As intelligence increases this and all other peculiar customs will soon belong entirely to the province of tradition. A few decades ago this was not so; then one could, according to the narrations of old men and women, have had the pleasure of both seeing and talking with the Trolls.
There was once a hunter named Pelle Katt, who, one day, went to Skurugata for the purpose of shooting woodcock, but though it was the mating season, when birds are ordinarily plenty and tame, the hunt was unsuccessful. It was as though ordained. The puffy woodcock and his hens kept out of the way of the murderous shot. Pelle was angry, and suspecting that the Trolls had bewitched his gun, he swore and cursed the Trolls generally, and especially those that lived in Skurugata, whose mouth he was just passing, when a woman stepped out, small in stature and peculiar in feature, bearing a little poodle dog in her arms.
“I bring you greeting from my mistress; she says you are to shoot this dog,” said she, approaching Pelle.
“Tie it there to that tree and it shall be done before it can get upon its feet,” answered Pelle.
This was done, and the little woman disappeared between the mountains. Pelle raised his gun and sent a charge of shot through the dog’s head. But what a sight met his gaze when the smoke had disappeared! There lay his own little child wrapped in a dog’s hide.
Pelle Katt’s habits were not the best. He was fond of drink, quarrelsome and boisterous, and often in his drunken fits declared that he feared neither God nor the devil. [[44]]
Now, for the first time in his life, he was amazed and crestfallen.
“O God! What have I now done!” he cried.
His knees smote together and the sweat ran copiously from every pore.
“Here you have your reward,” said the Troll woman, who now reappeared and threw a dollar piece to Pelle, so that it fell in his open hand, to which it stuck fast, and hastily picking up the dead child bore it away.
In a rage, Pelle threw the dollar piece after the vanishing figure, at the same time calling out:
“I will take no pay from you for such a deed. Here you have your gift again, you detestable Troll.”
A hoarse laugh answered from the mountain.
Pelle went home. The child was absent. His wife cried, but Pelle kept still and went to the ale house. He had no money with which to buy brandy in order to drown his sorrows, but after his old custom he stuck his fingers in his vest pocket to feel if there might not be a penny there. Behold! There was the dollar piece which he had recently cast from him. He dropped it upon the ale house counter and received a drink which truly made him forget his dead child, his wife, himself, heaven, hell and all.
When he became sober the coin was again found in his pocket. He again threw it away, and several times thereafter, but always found it in his pocket when searching it for money. So he continued to drink more and more daily, until, finally, he drank himself into that sleep that knows no waking.
So goes the story of Pelle Katt and the Trolls in Skurugata. [[45]]
[1] Skurugata is a street-like chasm cut through one of the granite mountains situated in the parish of Eksjö, in width about twenty-five feet, with walls of rock on either side rising precipitously to the height of 130 feet, and in length about a quarter of a Swedish mile—one and one-half English miles. That the fertile fancies of the people have made this wild place the resort of Trolls and other supernatural beings is not surprising. Above the cliff lies a rock called Skuruhatt, by the side of which is an opening into the mountain, called Sacristian, where the heathens are said to have made offerings to their gods. [↑]
Kettil Runske.[1]
On the island of Vising, in Lake Vetter, there lived in olden times, two mighty kings, the one in Näsbo and the other in the castle of Borga, at opposite extremities of the island. A controversy arising about the division of land, the King of Näsbo consulted a Troll named Gilbertil, who lived in the parish of Ölmstad, in Östergötland, and engaged him to dig a ditch through the island, thus dividing it into two parts. Gilbertil undertook the work, and began digging at Näs, where a deep pit, even to this day, is pointed out as marking the spot. When the king of Borga became aware of this, he sent an invitation to Kettil [[46]]Runske, another notorious Troll man who lived in the parish of Habo, in Vestergötland. Kettil Runske accepted the invitation, and at once set out for the island with the returning messengers, to whom his presence on the boat, though he was invisible, was made known because of the boat being borne down into the water to its gunwale. They were also made aware of his departure from them, when they neared the castle, by the sudden rising of the boat as if relieved of a heavy burden.
To accomplish his undertaking, Gilbertil intended, apparently, to make an underground canal from shore to shore of the island, and allow the water to complete the excavation, and had already progressed to a point just north of Kumlaby, about half way through the island, when Kettil discovered his whereabouts, and opening the grounds above him commanded Gilbertil to cease digging. Gilbertil met the command with mockery and scorn, whereupon Kettil threw his Troll staff at him. Gilbertil intercepted the missile in the air, but his hands clove to the staff so that he could not free them. In the effort to release himself he endeavored to break it with his feet, but they also stuck to it. In extreme rage he then attempted to tear himself loose with his teeth, which also became fastened. Thus bound, hands, feet and mouth, Kettil threw him into the deep hole which is now to be seen in the meadow of Kumlaby, and which has received the name of Gilbertil’s hole. [[47]]
[1] Commissioned by Governor Lindehkelm and Doctor Urban Hiarne, Bailiff Girs, of Tveta, in the province of Jönköping, went to Vising Island in the year 1705, for the purpose of learning whether or no any trace of the Giant’s work yet remained.
Arriving at the island he applied to three aged and trustworthy men, from each of whom he received the same narration that has here been presented. Accompanied by these men he went by sea along the eastern coast of the island until he reached a high bluff, situated between the villages of Näs and Stiby, and about a third of a mile south of Visingborg. Here were actually two holes about fifty feet distant from each other. Into these holes three men crept, Policeman Nils Runske into one, and two peasants into the other. After creeping on hands and knees some feet they found it possible to walk upright for about thirty-four feet when the three met, the two tunnels here continuing in a single passage, which they were not able to penetrate beyond a few feet, because of the foul air. The passage was six feet high and eight feet wide, but said to have been much larger seventy years earlier. Later Girs was shown a sunken place or bog which extended from the aforementioned bluff inland three-eighths of a mile and terminated at the hole in Kumlaby meadow, where it is supposed Gilbertil is imprisoned. As late as the beginning of the eighteenth century the story was so generally credited that few or none could be found who were not entirely convinced that Gilbertil was still, by some devilish power, alive and laboring to free himself from his imprisonment. [↑]
Dame Soåsan.[1]
In early times there lived in Soåsan, a range of hills not far from the well-known city of Eksjö, a woman [[48]]Troll who was called Dame Soåsan. She and her forefathers had, for ages, dwelt there, but when the soldiers came and fired their guns—cracked their nuts, as the mountain folk expressed it—on the camp ground of Ränneslätt, the place became intolerable to her and she departed to her sister’s, an equally distinguished Troll, who lived in Skurugata, which has been mentioned in a preceding story.
Dame Soåsan was very clever and rich, also the possessor of a very bad temper. It was advisable, therefore, not to anger her in any way, for such as were so unfortunate were instantly punished.
A trooper of that time, belonging to the Hussars of Småland, by name Grevendal, serving under Apelarp in Flisby parish, stood one morning on guard in a distant part of the drill grounds, when he saw, wandering toward him, along the edge of a wood, a very little old woman, whom he rashly assailed with scoffing and vile epithets, whereupon he received a blow on the ear from some unseen hand, which sent him flying to the top of a tall pine tree near by, where he remained unable to descend until assisted down by his comrades.
Toward those who were careful not to offend her the woman exhibited much kindness and extended many favors. A poor old woman of the human family living near Soåsan, in a little hut, was one time in great distress, her table bare and no one near to help her, with famine, already a guest in her hut, menacing her with terrible glare.
Late one evening a knock was heard upon the hut door. [[49]]
“Come in, in the name of the Lord,” answered the old woman, wondering who her visitor might be.
“In that name I can not enter, but here is work for you from the mistress of the mountain. Spin beautiful yarn, but do not wet the threads with spittle, for then it will become christened and that the madam will not tolerate.”
“Where shall I leave the yarn?” asked the trembling woman.
“Go straight forward into the woods, where you will find a smooth green lawn. Lay the yarn there and next day you shall have your pay.”
The old woman began at once to spin the flax which she found outside the cottage door, but during the work stood a vessel of water beside her with which to wet the thread.
The yarn was soon finished and she betook herself, with profit and pleasure in prospect, to the wood. As the Troll’s servant maid had declared she came to a beautiful glade encircled by high trees. She there laid down the yarn and hastened to return home, not daring to look behind her. The next day she went again to the spot and found a new bundle of flax, also several silver pieces.
Now followed a period of prosperity for the poor woman. She accumulated money from her work, became rich, but at the same time avaricious, and forgot the prayers, which she had never before neglected, when she retired to rest.
Finally, she did not even trouble herself to keep faith with the Trolls, but spun the yarn according [[50]]to general custom, wetting the thread with her spittle.
The skeins of yarn were deposited in the usual place, but when she went the next day to get her reward she was unable to find the glade again, and in the end went astray in the woods, from which she did not succeed in finding her way home before a whole day later. Upon arriving home, as was her every-day custom, she brought forth and was about to count over her money, when she found that all the silver pieces had been transformed into small stones.
Want pursued her now with greater severity than ever, for none would help one who was known to have had to do with the infamous Soåsan dame, and the old woman died shortly after in great poverty and distress.
A girl who many years ago was a servant in the house of a Senator of Eksjö, named Lind, went one day to find the cattle, which usually grazed in the woods surrounding Soåsan. The animals, for some time back, had not thrived upon the pastures allotted them and were wont to wander far away in search of food, it was supposed, so, at times the girl, notwithstanding the most diligent search, was unable to find them, and when they were found, the cows had already been milked. This day she went plodding sadly along through the dark woods, thinking of the scolding which awaited her at home, when she returned with neither cows nor milk; her mind was also busied with the many stories she had heard about ghosts and Trolls who [[51]]infested the woods, when she saw two pair of Pigmies, a boy and girl, sitting under the shadow of a large pine tree.
“It is best to be polite when on the Trolls’ own ground,” thought the girl. Whereupon she addressed the Troll infants in a very friendly manner and invited each to partake of some bread and butter which she had with her in her little bag. The children ate with exceeding greed, a disgusting sight, as they had extremely large mouths into which the bread and butter vanished rapidly. When the girl was about to depart she heard a voice saying, “As you have taken pity on my children, you shall hereafter escape searching after the cows. Go home! They stand at the gate.”
From that day the girl no longer had to search for the cows; they came to the gate every night of their own accord, sweet-laden with a rich tribute of the most excellent milk. [[52]]
[1] The inhabitants of Eksjö and thereabout relate many stories of Trolls and the like, but these are the most complete and characteristic. [↑]
The Giant Puke.[1]
In the parish of Lofta in the department of North Tjust there lies, near the sea, a mountain called Puke Mountain. From the land side running into the mountain, there is a long fissure terminating in a cave or hall, where formerly lived a giant called Puke, concerning whom many stories are still quite prevalent among the people.
When the church at Lofta was built the giant was sorely tormented by the church bells. He suffered great discomfort even from the water courses which gurgled out of the mountain, and in a meadow directly north of Lofta Church, was formed a pond, Kofre Spring, in which holy baptism was sometimes performed.
Puke often declared that he must depart from his mountain because of Kofre Spring and Lofta scolding, meaning the church bells in Lofta.
One Sunday the Giant was more than usually disturbed by the long continued bell ringing, and sent his daughter to the top of the mountain, from which, with her apron strings converted into a sling, she threw an [[53]]enormous stone at the church tower. But the force was too great, and the stone fell upon the other side of the church, where it lies to this day, as large as a good sized cottage.
Some days later the giant maiden, while wandering over the surrounding country, was attracted by three children at play on a hill near by. They had discovered a fallen branch of an oak tree, and to this they had fastened a rope, pretending it was a plow, which one was holding as the others dragged it over the ground. Surprised at this curious implement and the small creatures, she gathered them all into her apron and ran home with them to her giant father. He, however, found no pleasure in the intended playthings but said only:
“Take them out again, our time is past; it is now these who shall rule over us.”
In the end Puke became dissatisfied with everything and moved to Götland, where he was some time later found by a ship’s master, to whom he gave a box, and bade him offer it upon the altar at Lofta while the people were in church, cautioning him strongly not to open it before.
“If you do as I bid you,” said the Giant, “you will find, under the left fore-foot of Lofta’s white mare—meaning the church—a key, with which you are to proceed to Puke Mountain. There you will see a door, which you shall open. When you are inside you will meet two black dogs. Do not be afraid of them, but press forward into the room, where you will find a table and upon it many beautiful silver vessels. Of [[54]]them you may take the largest, but if you take anything more, misfortune will surely overtake you.”
The captain kept this all in mind, but when he approached Puke Mountain, on his journey homeward, the conversation of the ship’s people was turned to the box. After many deliberations, it was determined to throw it overboard onto a small island which lay near by. This was done, and upon the instant the island was in flames, and even to-day it is brown and desolate as if it had recently been swept by a fire. [[55]]
[1] This legend is a complex of different giant stories localized at Puke Berg—Puke Mountain. Nearly every parish has its legend, in which the resident giant has been angered with the noise of the church bells, and has sought to destroy his disturber. The legend of the giantess who took the children from their plowing and bore them to her giant parent is not confined to the Giant Puke. Similar legends are current in Kläppe, in Oldesborg parish, in Dalland, etc. [↑]
