“Because every one knows that it was Lund Cathedral that was built by the Trolls, at the desire of the blessed Saint Laurentius,” said Jacob; “it was he who promised his eyes for it, and had them preserved by a miracle, not by a trumpery trick. Esberne Snorre, indeed; or any Dane, for matter of that! A set of infidels! It is only a Swede who would give his eyes for the church.”
“I should like to know who Scånia belonged to at the time when Lund Cathedral was built,” said Tom, “I do not think it was to the Swedes; and I should like to know who took away its archbishopric when they did get it, and made the great metropolis of all Scandinavia a trumpery little bishopric under the see of Upsala?”
“And I should like to know,” said Torkel, “who made bishops ride upon asses, and drink ‘du’ with the hangman. The Swedes give their eyes for the church, indeed! That for the Swedes!” snapping his fingers, and spitting on the ground.
This was a poser. Jacob was not only in the minority, but clearly wrong in matter of fact. At the dissolution of the union of Kalmar, Scånia, though situated in Sweden, was a Danish province, and its archbishop was, as he always had been, the metropolitan.
At the present time it is quite true that Scånia is a Swedish province; but this is a comparatively modern arrangement. In the days when the cathedral was built, though geographically a portion of Sweden, it was politically a province of Denmark; nor was it till its union with the former state that its capital, Lund, was deprived of its ecclesiastical primacy. And the treacherous conduct of Gustavus Vasa towards Canute, Archbishop of Upsala, and Peter, Bishop of Westeras, and the contumelies to which they were exposed, previous to their most unjust execution, are a blot even in that blood-stained reign, which Geijer himself, with all his ingenuity, cannot vindicate, and which the Norwegians, from whose protection the bishops were lured, are continually throwing in the teeth of their more powerful neighbours.
Birger himself was a little taken aback, not exactly liking that the weak points in his country’s history should be thus exposed to strangers.
“Never mind them, Jacob,” said he, forcing a laugh, “they are only Tellemarkers, and know no better. You and I shall see them, some of these days, climbing the trees of Goth’s garden themselves.”[23]
This bit of national slang, which fortunately was lost on the Norwegians, had the effect of soothing the ire of the sulky Jacob, who drew near to his countryman with a happy feeling of partisanship.
“The sooner the better,” said he, bitterly.