regndoft | -... I Riden Så Varligt...-

Okay, I'm a bit better now.

You know, I was planning on making this... Huge epic post with Swedish myths and legends; one from each province. But then I got so impatient that I decided to post the two I've translated so far. >3>;

In Swedish there is a word called sägen, which roughly translates to myth or legend, although I personally feel that those words are too ambiguous to properly express what sägen means. To put it really simply, a sägen is something that was thought to have happened a long time ago that was true; the events are often trivial and might explain a name, a place, a phenomenon; but it could also simply be a story. They're the urban legends of the old farmers' society (urban legend in Swedish is vandringssägen, wandering myth). You recognize the traits; the story is attributed to a special place and the characters have names and might even be historical people, amongst others.

I work from the south to the north. These two first ones are from Skåne and Småland; map of the Swedish provinces here. The source is Svenska folksägner by Herman Hofberg, 1882, with annotations.

I've only translated the annotations if I felt that they were worth adding...

The Ghost at Fjälkinge – Skåne

During the later part of the 18th century several of Skåne’s great estates belonged to the Barnekow family, or more precisely its former most distinguished representative, Lady Margareta Barnekow, daughter of the renowned commander and governor – general duke Rutger von Ascheberg and married to Colonel Kjell Kristofer Barnekow. A widow at 29, she took over her many properties herself, and she tended to them with an indomitable courage, an untiring capacity for work, and a never failing care for her numerous subordinates.

On a journey between her estates Lady Margareta once came to Fjälkinge inn and insisted on sleeping in a room, called “the ghost room”. A traveller had a couple of years earlier slept in the same room and had probably been murdered. At least the man and his properties were gone without a trace, without it ever have been discovered how it all truly was. Since then the room was haunted every night, and those who knew of this matter would rather travel a while longer in the darkness than choose such a quarter for rest. But Margareta Barnekow was not one of them. She had shown greater courage than that and chose the chamber without fear.

She let the lamp burn and fell into slumber, after having said her evening prayers. At twelve o’clock she was awoken by a pair of floorboards being lifted and a bloody shape appeared with the split head dangling down on the shoulder.

“Noble lady!” the ghost whispered, “prepare for a murdered one a resting place in consecrated soil and prepare for the guilty a righteous punishment!”

God-fearing and unmoved, Lady Margareta waved the ghost to come closer, after which it told her, that he’d recited the same request to several, who’d slept in the room after the murder, but that no one had had the courage to fulfil it. Then Lady Margareta took her golden ring from her finger, put it in the open wound and bandaged the ghost’s head with her handkerchief. With a look of unutterable gratitude, the ghost told her the murderer’s name and disappeared underneath the floor without a sound.

The following morning Lady Margareta called upon and officer and his people to the inn, told them what had happened during the night and ordered the present party to open the floorboards. Buried in the ground a half decayed corpse with the countess’ ring in the head and her handkerchief tied around it was found.

At the sight of this one of the present people paled and fell to the ground, unconscious. When he came to his senses he confessed to have murdered the traveller and robbed him. He was sentenced to death for his crime and the murdered was buried in the parish’s graveyard.

The ring, which had a curious shape, set with a big grey stone, is supposed to still be kept in the Barnekow family and is said to have miraculous powers at the event of disease, fire and other misfortunes. When someone in the family dies, a red spot, like blood, is said to appear on the grey stone.

Ebbe Skammelsson – Småland

On a thin spit of land, that protrudes into Lake Bolmen from the north, lies an old sätesgård, an estate of the nobility liberated from taxes in the Middle Ages, called Tiraholm; by common folk simply Tira.

Far back in time there lived a knight and his housewife, and they had one child only, a daughter, the fair Malfrid. In all of the land there was no prettier maiden, and the reputation of her beauty went far and wide and enticed many suitors to the place. But Malfrid was cold and emotionless and refused them, one after another.

One day a handsome knight came to the estate. His name was Ebbe Skammelsson and he’d just come home from foreign land, where he’d earned his knight’s spurs.

With lowered eyes and blushing cheeks the maiden reached her hand to the foreign man, who courteously and according to knights’ custom greeted the beautiful one back.

The foreign knight became a guest at Tiraholm for a while and soon rumour proclaimed, to many a young lad’s despair, that Ebbe and fair Malfrid were engaged. But since they were both still young, the knight wanted to complete a crusade to the holy land to increase his honour even more, and he promised that he’d be back in seven years to celebrate their wedding.

Some time after Ebbe’s departure Malfrid’s father died, the old knight, and the daughter was left alone with her mother at Tiraholm. Years passed without any word from Ebbe. The roses on the maiden’s cheeks paled and the dark eyes lost their lustre. Then the mother wanted to cure her loss and had her engaged to another one.

She was convinced that knight Ebbe had fallen by the sword of the unfaithful and therefore prepared for a festive wedding, and the newly-engaged were united through the bond of the church.

But as the people were sitting down at the table, a gold clad knight rode his horse in full gallop up on the yard. The bride paled beneath the crown, but the mother, who recognized the foreigner as Ebbe, rushed to meet him outside. She reminded him that the seven years had passed and told him, that his beloved sat in the bridal seat with another man.

In pure rage the knight turned his horse, drew his sword, and after reproaching the mother with words of punishment, cut her head off in one go. With the sword dripping with blood he jumped out of the saddle into the wedding hall, where the bride fell for his sword and the bridegroom toppled over from a fatal wound by her side.

Hunted by regret the murderer jumped up on his horse and rode into the dark woods. But the torments didn’t leave him in peace. Night and day he saw the ghosts of the murdered ones and nowhere did he find peace. He then decided to wander to Rome and pray for forgiveness for his crime by the Holy Father’s feet. For a great amount of money he did get the pope’s letter of indulgence, but the forgiveness of humans didn’t still the anguish in his soul or calm the storm in his heart. He then returned to the home district of his beloved and begged the judge to sentence him to the harshest of punishments.

After long contemplation the council decided that he, forged in seven pounds of iron would spend one night and day at each and every one of Lake Bolmen’s three hundred and sixty-five islets. The sentence was immediately put into practise . To move he was given a small vessel, and in it he dragged himself like a bird shot in the wing from one islet to another.

When the year of punishment was at an end, he stepped ashore at Angelstad’s domains in Sunnerbo county. Here he went to the village and rested one night in a barn. However, his tragic fate had made a deep impression on the people. A folk singer had written a song about his misfortunes and a fortune teller had made a prediction that when he heard this song, his shackles would break and he’d fall down dead. And when he lay there hidden in the barn, a maid came in the morning to milk the cows. She started singing “the song of knight Ebbe”, and he listened with tense attention. When the last verse was sung, he called out loud:

“Some of it is true and some of it is not!”

Terrified the maid ran into the cottage and told what had happened. Quickly the village people surrounded the barn, where Ebbe laid, and demanded to know who he was and where he came from. In his shackles he dragged himself out to the slope and told his name, and requested to be taken to the nearest graveyard.

Between the village and Angelstad church there is an earthbound rock. When they reached it, Ebbe stepped up on the rock, lift his gaze towards the sky and exclaimed:

“If I’m worthy to rest in hallow ground – then so it shall be...”

In that moment the shackles fell from his hands and feet and he fell dead to the ground.

The people present took his corpse and carried it to the church and buried it beneath the path outside of the northern church wall, so that all who entered the cemetery would step on his grave. But the following night there was an omen, in that a huge part of the church wall fell down right in front of the grave. The peasants put it together as fast as they could, but already the next night it fell again. Everybody understood then that it was a sign from heaven that the outlaw could rest in sacred soil and the men of the parish had the cemetery expanded so the grave was inside of the wall.

Of the shackles, that for a long time were hung in Angelstad’s old church, three iron crosses were forged, that are put on the present church’s roof and that look like the crosses that were raised to the remembrance of the deceased in the old days.

Recorded in Västbo. The same story is told in Halland with the difference that Ebbe's beloved is said to have lived in a mansion in Tiveden and that the outlawed knight is buried beneath a rock by the entrance to Gällinge church.

This one might also duly note that "Ebbe Skammelsson" is indeed a medieval ballads as well, although the content differs quite a bit from the tales presented here.