Why Tallinn Must Never Be Finished

Once every autumn on a dark midnight a little grey man comes forth from Lake Ülemiste, goes down the hill to the town gates and asks the gatekeeper, "Is the town ready yet or is there still something to be built?"

Now, as the case usually is with bigger towns, there is never a halt to construction work. When there are no new buildings under way, there is always a lot of work at older ones which need repairs, so that there never comes-a time when all building masters are resting at one and the same time. However, even if this were the case, it must never come to the old man's ears. Therefore firm orders have been given to the gatekeepers to answer the grey old man's query as follows, "The town is far from being ready, there are many unfinished buildings there which will take many a year to be finished."

The strange old man then shakes his head angrily, mutters some words that the gatekeeper does not understand, turns on his heel and goes back to Lake Ülemiste where his permanent abode is.

Should someone by mistake reply to this question that the town is ready and there is no more building to be done, it would mean the immediate end of Tallinn because the waters of Lake Ülemiste would at the same moment rush down the Lasnamägi Hill and drown the town with everything it holds.

The Leather Merchant

The story goes that in olden times a man in a suit of armour mounted on a tall white horse was often seen at Lasnamägi in moonlit nights. He carried a bunch of hides under his arm which he offered to sell to the travellers he chanced to meet. However, no one was willing to buy his goods since the leather was found to smell strongly of human beings which scared the prospective buyers.

One night a small man with a. goatee met him and inquired, "What price are you asking for your hides, my good man?"

The man in armour replied, "All I ask is to be able to rest in peace in my grave, which has been denied me up to now."

The old man insisted on the proud rider telling him the reason why he could find no peace in his grave and who it was who forced him to ride out night after night.

The man in armour answered, "I was a famous warrior in my time, Pontus was my name. I had the men who were killed in battle skinned, the skins tanned and then used in place of animal hide. So any article of leather to be found in my house was made of tanned human skin. The boots I have on my feet, the coat and trousers I have on under the suit of armour, as well as the saddle, the bridle and the straps you see here, are all made of tanned human skin. A lot of skins were left over when I died because I didn't need any more things of leather for the time being. When I came up to the gates of the nether world and was about to enter, the gate-keeper called out, 'Stop! I cannot let you in before you have sold all the skins you haven't used up yet. But since you are not allowed to leave your grave by day you must seek someone willing to trade with you at night. Ride around at Lasnamägi every midnight, until the cock crows, and find a buyer for the skins.' Although I have been trying to sell these skins to people of two generations already, no one has been willing to buy them because, as they say, the skins smell strongly of human beings."

"Well," said the old man, "I shall not reject your ware because of that shortcoming. If all you ask for it is to escape your nightly rides, let us strike hands. Dismount and come with me."

Pontus was glad to have found a buyer. He took the bunch of skins and went with the old man. But the buyer took him straight to hell.

On the threshold the old man assumed his real shape, with horns on his head and a tail at his back. He pushed Pontus into a room and cried out in a terrible voice, "Men skinned by Pontus, step forward!"

Scores of skinless men came forward, each clamouring for cover for his bloody flesh.

The old man said, grinning, "Skin him and keep stretching his skin until there is enough covering for your flesh and bones."

The Young Lady Of Porkuni

What is the gentle light on the pond

That catches the watchman's eye at night?

Perhaps old people in the past

Knew how to explain it.

Through the stories of night watchmen people in olden days knew quite a lot about the strange light that used to be seen on the Porkuni pond nearly every midnight. It rose suddenly above the water like a burning candle and went out after an hour.

Although the light on the pond had been there since olden days and many had seen it with their own eyes, nobody could explain how it did come about. At last, an old man was found in the parish of Haljala who knew more about it than anybody else. That is the story he told,

"Several hundred years before the Swedish rule there lived a valiant knight in the secure Porkuni Castle. He was not married and his young sister kept house for him. The knight, as a warrior, had to be often away from home. Once when he was away again, his sister struck up a friendship with a young man and they fell deeply in love which neither of them had foreseen. When the young lady no longer considered it possible to hide their friendship she thought it best to confess everything to her brother. So one day she went into his chamber, confessed her wrong-doing and asked for his permission to be wedded to the young man.

The brother, however, flew into a rage, kicked her out of the way, had her seducer sent in and beheaded the young man there and then so that his blood squirted upon the young lady who fainted out of fright. Then the knight had a hole cut in the ice in the middle of the pond, pulled his sister thither by her hair and pushed her under the ice, keeping guard himself at the hole until there was no hope for the sister to escape death.

Because the unfortunate young lady met her violent death without a confession and had to fall into her wet grave without a blessing, her soul does not find peace there but shines every night as a candle on the pond."

When the vicar heard the old man's story, he rowed a boat to the place on the pond where the light could be seen every night, and blessed the grave and said a long prayer over it so that the young lady's soul found eternal peace.

Later nobody has seen the light on the pond in Porkuni.

The Whining Leg-Bone

"What could cause its bitter crying,

What could ever make it weep?"

(Kalevipoeg)

The road from Aruküla village at Jõepere to Kadrina church leads through a narrow dell where in time long past, as older people still clearly remember, a doleful whining could be heard at night which sounded like the squealing or whimpering of a wounded animal. On moonlit nights the wayfarers often saw a strange thing spinning and twirling there which might perhaps have caused that whining sound.

Yet by day nothing but a human leg-bone could be seen lying there, quite still and motionless. Nobody could really tell whether that leg-bone had anything to do with the whining and twirling there at night or not.

There was a stout-hearted brave lad in the village of Aruküla who could not find any peace until he had cleared up the mystery. He was not scared when he passed through the dell, instead of hurrying along as all the other people did, he often tarried to watch the bone spin and whine. He made up his mind to track down the reasons for this strange happening.

One moonlit night he went down to the dell. Already from far off he could hear the whining, and as he got nearer to the leg-bone he saw the spinning as well. He watched this strange dance for a long time and saw clearly that it was the same quick spinning that caused the whining sound to be heard. He made a few leaps forward and gripped the spinning bone with his two strong hands. The bone did not stop and kept struggling in his hands, as if trying to escape the brave man. But the lad's firm grip did not let the imprisoned bone break loose so easily.

Gradually the leg-bone stopped moving and all of a sudden a strange man was standing in front of the village lad. The stranger said, "A thousand thanks to you for your good deed. You have released me from the long-lasting torment in which my poor soul could never find peace. Many people have passed this place before you but none of them was brave enough to take the dancing bone in his hands as you have done, my good friend. Now follow my instructions and do everything I tell you so that my wearied soul could rest at last. Your deed will be generously rewarded.

Come here tomorrow at daybreak and dig a grave seven feet deep and six feet long at this very place under our feet. Then put the bone into the grave placing it at the end which lies towards the rising sun, and ask a parson to come here and bury me with all the prayers and blessings of an interment ceremony. This will release me of any anguish and my soul can rest in eternal peace.

There was a time when I was the rich and glorious king of Sweden, but driven by my own wickedness I came to wage war in this land and shed plenty of innocent blood. I was killed on the battlefield. Death was the punishment for my sins. The best part of my army was killed the same day together with me; those who could escape fled in sheer terror so that nobody had time to take care of the dead. The enemies robbed me of my armour and left me lying here like a dead dog. Later the wild beasts devoured my body, leaving behind only this leg-bone which was to remain whining here until somebody happened to take mercy on it and bury it so that my sins would be forgiven.

When the funeral ceremony is over, and the parson has thrown on it his three handfuls of earth, do not fill the grave up at once. Wait until the parson has left and gone home. Then dig the eastern end of the grave half a foot deeper still. There you will find a reward for everything you have done. Give twenty-five thalers of the money to the parson for the burial and give fifty thalers to the poor of the parish. The rest is yours and you may do with it whatever you wish." So saying the stranger disappeared just as mysteriously as he had come.

The man marked the place of the grave with a stake and went home for a spade. The next dawn found him already hard at work according to the stranger's instructions. The leg-bone was lying quite still near the stake as put there in the night. The grave was ready by noon, and he put the leg-bone inside it. Then he went to call the parson. He told the clergyman all that had happened to him the previous night, relating the story from beginning to end. However, the young man did not say a word about the money the parson was to get for the burial ceremony because he was not altogether sure he would find it and did not want to give vain promises.

Though the parson was rather taken aback by what the man had told him, he did not refuse to perform his duty and followed him to the place where the restless leg-bone was waiting to be decently buried. When the ceremony was over and the parson had left, the man dug the eastern end of the grave half a foot deeper and he could see a broad copper lid in the earth.

Prising the lid open, the man found a copper cauldron, the size of four tubs put together, filled to the brim with Swedish thalers. He tried to lift the cauldron with a crowbar, but finding this task quite hopeless, left it at that. Instead, he took off his coat and spread it out on the ground and filled it with as many coins as he could carry on his back. He carried his loads some way off and poured the coins down under the bushes near by until the cauldron was quite empty. In the bottom of it he found about half a peck of pure gold. He left the empty cauldron where he had found it, filled up the grave with earth, smoothed down the mound and went to the village to fetch a horse and cart to haul away his treasure. But even the cart had to be loaded twice in order to carry off all the coins.

The lucky treasure-finder now paid the parson and gave him the fifty thalers to be shared equally among the poor of the parish.

Some days later he bought two strong horses and a waggon, loaded it with money and left his homestead. Nobody knew where he went to and nothing was heard of him later on, but it is believed that he crossed the sea for Finland or Sweden, because the money had all been of Swedish kings and therefore its value was bound to be much higher in those countries.

After that nobody ever heard the whining which also had often reached the ears of my grandfather as he was passing through the dell before the leg-bone was buried.

The Wandering Lake

Near the Võru—Pihkva road a small lake can be seen between the knolls of gritty sand in a deep narrow vale to the left of the road beside the seventh milestone. Half a mile further uphill, also on the left side of the road, there is between the knolls a small round valley whose northern edge bears abundant evidence of waves having worn it down when passing through. A lovely grove of birch trees stands on the southeastern bank of the valley and one can see two small farms near the grove, while a schoolhouse was built to the other side of the grove some two decades ago. To this place we follow the traces of an old folk-tale.

Several hundred years ago there was a small lake in the valley with clear silvery water surrounded by green grassy banks. There was a lovely oak wood on the high bank instead of the birch grove and in its shade there stood a big farm showing signs of a well-to-do owner. All around there used to be wide broadleaf forests instead of farms that catch the eye of the traveller on both sides of the road today.

But let us return to the lake on whose surface in sunny days the oak wood and the farm were reflected and that was seldom wrinkled by waves because amidst its high banks the lake took no notice of the play of storms and wind. Every day the farm people brought their drinking and cooking water from the lake and refreshed their weary bodies in the lake's water on hot summer days.

The greatest and most beautiful treasure of the farm was the only daughter of the owner who grew up among five strong brothers and bloomed like a most beautiful flower so that there was no other girl to be found anywhere to match her beauty. Her pure innocent heart was similar to a flower for she, too, was ignorant of the great pleasure her fairness offered to others, especially to young men. Many wooers came from far and near but the maiden had no desire to submit herself to marriage so soon. "I have time enough to get married yet!" she laughingly used to tell her parents and brothers when wooers turned their horses homewards with empty hands.

One day a young knight of noble birth from the Kirupää Castle, riding past the farm to Vastseliina, happened to notice the beautiful girl on the shore of the lake. A passion flamed up in his heart so that he could not forget the girl. As he did not find peace anywhere, he often found excuses to make his way to the farm where he talked with the farmer or his sons but the girl was never to be seen.

As the young knight realized that he never had a chance to meet the maiden on the farm, he thought of a new plan. He lurked near the lake for several days until at last he found the girl alone and the moment favourable for talking to her and telling her of his heart's desire. Although the maiden felt no love towards him she could not abruptly reject the noble young man who might have caused much harm to her father and brothers because of this. In distress the maiden had to tolerate the knight's pledges of love although she never allowed him anything that might have offended her purity. When her parents and brothers came to know her fortitude they did not mind the noble visitor coming to their farm nearly every day; he must have hoped in his heart of hearts to find a lucky moment and ensnare the maiden in his love net. However, the maiden always replied to the knight's entreaty, "Dear Sir, I am not fit to become your wife since you are of noble birth and I but a common farmer's daughter, and I don't have the slightest wish to become your mistress. Therefore I deem it best for you to forget all about me and return to your kin."

One day the two of them were again sitting on the lakeshore in the shade of a big oak-tree. The knight had in his usual way been declaring his ardent love for the maiden, vowing that he would rather die than depart from his love. The maiden replied meekly: "Do not make fun of me! I must not, nor do I want to, believe your vows that have come on the wind and will go with the wind. You will never win my love and let me tell you truthfully, I'd rather give up my life than be dishonoured. I cannot make friends with you."

The knight replied: "Truly, my love for you and you alone will last forever just as this clear lake here in front of our eyes will never change its place."

And so he tried again to win the girl's favour until at last he left sadly for home, angry with himself and the maiden that all his attempts had been in vain.

Great was the fright of the people on the farm the next morning when they no longer found the lake in front of their door but only slime and mud on the damp sand. The maiden raised her eyes towards heaven, remembering the vows of the young man and thanking God for giving her such an evident sign.

Never after that dared the knight come near the farm on the lake-shore where Heaven had thus given ample proof of the falseness of his vows.

The Merchant's Daughter Of Narva

The town of Narva is said to have been a very prosperous town in olden times and the trade with the Island of Kungla and other countries across the sea brought her still more riches and wealth.

It is said that every summer foreign merchant ships from all directions came by their hundreds to the port of Narva to bring in exotic goods and to carry away goods that our country offered. The goods moved from Narva in two directions: one part to Tartu, the other and greater part through Pihkva to Russia. That was why in summer the merchants' barges from Narva were constantly moving on the River Narva and Lake Peipsi, while in winter big caravans of sledges made roads on the ice.

One merchant in Narva is said to have possessed such great wealth in those times that roomy cellars under his house were filled with barrels full of gold and silver from floor to ceiling.

The rich man had no more children than one daughter who was to inherit everything after her parents' death. Anyone can guess that wooers were not lacking here for rich girls were as highly appreciated and sought after in olden days as they are today.

The rich merchant's daughter had wooers from many countries, young men of noble birth among them, yet nobody was accepted.

It sometimes happens that the thoughts and wishes of girls, be they rich or poor, take different paths than those of their parents in choosing a husband. Such was the case here, too. While the parents wished for a wealthy or noble son-in-law, their daughter chose secretly behind their backs her own love who possessed neither a famous name nor wealth nor anything else that might have given him preference over the others; yet the wealthy maiden loved him with all her heart and vowed to herself that she would either marry him or stay an old maid. She knew as well as her lover did that the rich parents would never give their only child to such a poor suitor; yet they hoped against hope and believed in a lucky chance that might help them.

One day the proud young king of Sweden sailed into the port of Narva, disembarked and went straight into the house of the rich merchant—probably to borrow money, the townspeople supposed. But in a few hours the whole town knew that the young king was to become the son-in-law of the rich merchant. The noble and proud wooer was accepted immediately with great joy so that the parents altogether forgot to ask their daughter if she, too, was willing to accept him.

The daughter's resistance and tears were shrugged off as childish moods; the girl became engaged to the king under her parents' compulsion and the wedding was to take place in a week. A couple of days before the wedding, the king's bride met her lover secretly and gave him a valuable golden ring for a keepsake; she also vowed that if there was no other escape for her, death would be her only deliverer. She had made such threats several times before, and her parents took no heed of what she said.

The wedding was a splendid affair but there was no joy in the bride's heart, she looked like a flower wilted with drought. When after the wedding the king and his bride were ready to board the ship to sail homewards, the young wife swooned several times so that she had to be carried aboard ship, more dead than alive. On the second day when the ship was already on the high seas, the young wife put on her wedding finery and expressed a wish to go on deck to take a breath of fresh air. The king led her by the hand up the stairs; walking to and fro on the deck the young wife suddenly jumped into the sea before anybody could stop her.

The parents' grief was deep when they got news of their daughter's death but it did not help. Our repentance does not bring back the dead.

It is said that even nowadays when the wind, coming from the direction of Sweden, rouses the waves to dance, alert ears on the shore can catch the sound of the royal bride's weeping amidst the howling wind and roaring storm.

Where Narva's Former Fortune Rests

In Narva's days of prosperity mentioned above, a savage enemy either from Russia or Poland came with a great host to plunder the citizens. Fortunately the townspeople got the message from the spies a couple of days before the enemy's advent so that they had time to gather the greater part of their gold and silver and bury it in the river-mouth near the sea. Then the gates of the town were closed and guards posted everywhere on the walls and towers. There was so much food in the town that the people had no fear of hunger. The strong walls and towers around the town, a wide, deep river on one side and moats filled with water on the other did not let the enemy enter who laid siege to the town until the autumn and then had to go back home without having achieved anything.

After the enemy's retreat the citizens hurried off to the river-mouth to dig out the hidden treasure. Unfortunately they had buried the treasure at the bottom of the river very near the sea where strong winds had raised the bottom several times, smashed the barrels of money against one another and then covered everything with sand carried in from the sea. It was only a very small part of the buried money that could later be recovered.

The greater part of the old treasure still rests at the bottom of the sea and the river. Who knows which lucky beggar will have his share of it.

The Maiden Of Vaskjala Bridge

Once upon a time there was a meek and gentle maiden who went bathing in a river near Vaskjala Bridge on a still and fine summer evening to refresh herself after the day's heat and toil. The sky was clear, the wind but mildly blowing, and the song of a nightingale could be heard from a nearby alder grove. The Moon rose above the skyline and looked down kindly upon the maiden's chaplet, her light-brown hair and rosy cheeks. The maiden's heart was humble, innocent, chaste and pure as the crystalline spring water that can be seen through to the very bottom.

Yet suddenly she felt a strange yearning creep into her rejoicing heart which made her wish never to turn her eyes away from the Moon's face. And as the maiden was humble, chaste and pure the Moon fell in love with her and promised to gratify the secret yearning of her heart. But in the maiden's pure heart there was only one wish which she did not venture to utter or ask the Moon to fulfil: she wished to leave this world forever and stay in the heavens with the Moon. And the Moon divined her secret thoughts without the maiden having to reveal them.

The breath of the wind on a fine summer evening was again gentle and soft, the nightingale was singing in the alder grove all night, and the Moon was looking down on the water of the river near Vaskjala Bridge. But he was not alone any more, the sweet face of the maiden could be seen beside him, looking down through the waves into the depths of the river. And to this day the lovely face of the maiden has remained by the side of the Moon.

High up in the skies the maiden lives happily and she would be glad to share her happiness with all the other girls down on the Earth. Therefore on moonlit nights she looks tenderly down upon them, bidding them to visit her in the skies. But as no one of them is as humble, chaste and pure as she is, it is impossible for them to join her.

The Maiden of the Moon sometimes turns away from them sorrowfully and covers her face with a black shroud. And yet she does not despair but is still looking forward to the time when one of her earth-born sisters is found humble, chaste and pure enough for the Moon to call her to his side and share their happy life. That is why the maiden uncovers her face from time to time and hopefully sends her tender glances down to the Earth just as she used to do on that happy evening when for the first time she was looking into the river at Vaskjala Bridge from the skies above.

But even the best and the most prudent of maidens go astray and err sometimes so that none of them is humble, chaste and pure enough to reach the Moon. This is what makes the Maiden of the Moon sad again; she turns her pretty eyes from us and covers them once again with her black shroud of mourning.