The Knights of Ållaberg.
One time a peasant, en route to Jönköping with a load of rye, came just at dusk to Ållaberg, where he discovered a grand mansion by the way. “Maybe I can sell my rye here,” thought he, “and so be spared the journey to Jönköping,” and, approaching the door, he knocked for admittance.
The door was at once opened by some unseen power, and the peasant entered.
Upon entering, he found himself in a grand hall. In the middle of the floor stood a large table and upon the table lay twelve golden helmets, grand beyond the [[110]]power of description, and scattered around the room, deep in slumber, were twelve knights in glittering armor.
The peasant contemplated his beautiful surroundings, but, concluding he could not sell his rye here, went on, coming finally to a large stable, where he found standing twelve most magnificent steeds, bedecked with golden trappings and silver shoes on their hoofs, stamping in their stalls.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he took hold of the bridle of one of the horses in order to learn by what art it was made. Hardly had he touched it when he heard a voice call out, “Is it time now?” and another answer, “No, not yet!”
The peasant had now seen and heard as much as he desired, and, thoroughly frightened, hastened away. When he came out he found that he had been into the mountain instead of into a mansion, and that he had seen the twelve knights who sleep there until the country shall be in some great danger, when they will awake and help Sweden to defend herself against her foreign enemies. [[111]]
The Countess of Höjentorp.[1]
Shortly after King Charles XI. had confiscated most of the property of the nobility to the use of the crown, he came, one day, while upon one of his journeys to Höjentorp, where his aunt on his father’s side, Maria Eufrosyna, lived.
On the stairs, as he was about to enter her dwelling, he was met by her and at once saluted with a sound box on the ear. Astounded, the king burst out:
“It is fortunate that it is I whom you have struck! but why are you in such a combative mood, my aunt?”
“Why?” said the countess. “Because you have taken all my possessions from me.”
Conducting the king to the dining hall, the countess sat before him to eat a herring’s tail and an oat cake.
“Have you no better fare for me than this?” asked the king.
“No,” replied the lady; “as you have spread the cloth so must you dine.”
“Aunt,” said the king, “if you will give me your gold and silver, I will provide for you richly to your death.”
“Shame on you!” interrupted the countess. “Will you not allow me to keep so little as my gold and silver, [[112]]either?” and, advancing upon him, she gave him a second box on the ear, which so alarmed the king that he beat a hasty retreat and commanded that the countess be left in peaceful possession of her property to the end of her days. [[113]]
[1] This legend is noteworthy as showing how time and fancy often clothe the historical fact in mythical garb. The reader’s attention is called to similar cases in this collection, among them the Lord of Ugerup, Bishop Svedberg and the Devil, Lady Barbro, of Brokind, Jonas Spits, etc. [↑]
