The Fisherman's Daughter Of Toolse

An enormously wealthy fisherman is said to have lived on the coast at Toolse in olden days. His money and wealth were the work of several generations, not counting in what he himself had raked together or what the goblins had hauled together for him.

He had only one daughter who looked like a most beautiful flower but was full of evil inside. Her father's wealth made her stick up her nose so that she considered no man in our country fit to marry her. That, however, would not have mattered much if she had not herself tempted the young men and then mockingly sent them away in shame, abusing and laughing at them in front of people. As the story of the rejected suitors became known everywhere, there came an end to suitors' horses taking that road; young men thought it better to let the arrogant girl remain an old maid whose poisonous heart would not be wanted even by wolves.

Thus a couple of years passed quietly with no wooers around. Then one morning a noble stranger on a black horse rode in. His clothes glittered with gold and silver so that he was taken to be no less than a prince. Such a wooer could not be rejected by the parents or by their daughter; he was received with great honours and joy. When later on the wooer was asked to the table he tasted neither food nor drink, but asked his bride to dress quickly and go with him. He said that his home was not far away and the wedding guests were already waiting for their arrival.

As soon as the girl had adorned herself, the bridegroom lifted her on his horse, jumped himself into the saddle and quickly disappeared into the distance. They came to a wide plain where a magnificent manor-house stood; it buzzed with wedding guests making merry. The bridegroom dismounted and helped his bride down; then he led her into the festal hall. Ghastly shouts of laughter that made the girl's flesh creep met them at the doorway. Then a mighty crash was heard as if thunder had struck the earth in two. In the same moment the magnificent manor with all the wedding guests disappeared and nothing was left to be seen.

When people from the neighbourhood run together at the noise they saw but a stone column the height of a woman that had several streaks round its upper end like strings of pearls round a neck.

The stone column stands at present in the field of the Kaarli manor in Raudlepa village as a warning to wanton girls.

Lake Emujärv And Lake Virtsjärv

Shortly after God had created the human race, had blessed their fields to bear good crops and filled the forests with beasts and birds, he also created a lake with clear, cold and refreshing water so that people could quench their thirst whenever they needed.

Green oak and lime forests rustled on the shores of the lake. The prettiest flowers bloomed under the shady trees, and songbirds trilled and warbled from dawn till dusk so that the hearts of people could be filled with beauty and joy. It was just the kind of happy life that our Creator had willed his children to lead.

But this happiness was to end soon for people became unscrupulous and yielded to the evil and wicked urges of their hearts. The Creator could take no more delight in their doings. His ears were buzzing with their vicious talk. One day he said,

"I want to punish my unruly children for their wickedness. I have decided to deprive them of the fresh water of the lake. I hope it will make them improve themselves and mend their sinful ways, for thirst is a hard thing to bear."

And so one day a black threatening storm cloud rose from the south and began moving towards Lake Emujärv. It hovered above the lake and let its column-like tail drop into the lake's water.

All of a sudden the water in the lake started whizzing and rose in a gradually increasing column which finally merged into the storm cloud until the last drop. The black cloud sailed on with its load and passed out of sight before nightfall. The place in which the lake had been was found empty except for some mud and slime for the frogs to wallow in, but even this was soon dried up by the sun and the warm breezes.

People began to wail and lament for nowhere could they find a drop of fresh water to quench their thirst and moisten their parched lips. There was nothing but shallow pools of rainwater. Little by little rain showers and melting snow filled up the hollow of the disappeared lake, but this water was turbid and could neither quench one's thirst nor cool one's body after a hot and tiring work day.

People now gave the lake a new name and called it abusively the Virtsjärv (Dung Lake), and the lake bears this name even today. The former high shores with green forests and blooming flowers have long since disappeared from around the lake, leaving behind but waterlogged swamps with a few stunted pine trees.

When thirst had somewhat made the unruly people mend their ways, and their prayers and cries reached the ears of the Creator, he relented a bit and had mercy on them. However, the lake was not restored to them in its former shape. Instead, the Creator filled narrow underground fissures with the water of the former lake, ordering it to flow on and rise to the ground here and there so that people could slake their thirst.

In order to keep this underground water from getting too cold in winter and too warm in summer our wise Creator had a chill-stone put into all the springs every summer to be replaced by a heat-stone every winter; and that is why no spring ever freezes up while all the brooks, rivers and lakes are covered with ice in winter time.

Stone Heaps In Remembrance Of Famine

Those who have been to Palmse are bound to have seen the stone heaps in several places in the manor fields. As older people tell, all those heaps had been carried together during a bad famine. This is the way it happened.

The lords of Palmse had since long ago the habit of filling the manor granaries with the grain of bountiful harvests so that in case people happened to have to go short of grain because of crop failure the manor could feed them until the new harvest. Once it so happened that our country was plagued by so bitter a famine that everywhere people died of hunger like flies. The lucky ones with enough strength left to get them to Palmse were saved.

So, little by little, hundreds of people gathered at Palmse, all of whom were fed by the manor lord from his own granary, and the granaries were blessed by God so that the corn bins never got empty. Although the lord of Palmse neither expected nor demanded any kind of work from the needy but fed them out of charity, the people felt it to be their duty to do some work for him as a token of their gratitude. Since the fields of Palmse were stony, the people decided to gather all the stones from the fields and heap them up. That is why those heaps of stones are called stone heaps in remembrance of famine.

As they say, the fields of Palmse have borne rich crops of grain ever since those days until our times, and even if crop failures strike all around, the fields of Palmse remain untouched because the tears of the hungry have watered the land and their prayers of gratitude have reached God's ears high above.

The Guardian Spirit Of The Lords Of Palmse

Since long ago people knew that the lords of Palmse possessed a guardian spirit who protected them from harm whenever they were in danger. All men of the Pahlen family were tall of stature and strong of body so that they usually were taller by at least a head than other men; their guardians, in their turn, were by a head taller than the lords themselves.

People have been telling stories about a lord of Palmse Who was as tall as a hedge of clipped fir-trees that ran through the garden like a street. When he strolled among the trees to divert himself, his guardian spirit walked beside him, resembling him in looks and clothing, but its head reaching above the tree-tops. Sometimes they were heard to speak to each other, but in a language no one else understood. When the lord was sitting at the dining-table or on some other seat, the guardian spirit squatted down on the floor beside him. It never sat on a seat, but slept in the same bed with the lord. Yet it was very seldom indeed that the spirit could be seen by other people, mostly it was not to be seen by an alien eye.

Once a dreadful plague descended on the country. People died of the evil disease by the hundred and there were sick ones lying about everywhere with no one to help them. The lord of Palmse then went to the villages every day to visit the sick and to take them drink and nourishment. He comforted them in every way and in the eyes of the distressed he seemed like an angel. On such visits his guardian spirit was always seen by his side with a small black bag in its hand. It kept shaking the bag every now and then to let out some mist so that the lord walked in dense fog. It was done for the reason that the lord should not catch the disease.

When the same lord, as a young man, went soldiering, neither a blade nor a bullet could touch his body because they were repelled immediately. When he was asked whether bullets hurt him he said, laughing, "I only feel as if someone were pelting me with juniper berries."

When the old lord came to the end of his days and he had to depart from this world, his guardian spirit left him. The night before his death people of the manor heard loud clattering in the armoury. It seemed to them as if weapons were being thrown from one wall to another which made all the floors and walls shake. No one was bold enough to go and see the horrid game which lasted well past midnight. The strange thing about it was that the ailing lord never heard any of the clatter.

When the servants entered the armoury the next day, expecting everything to be helter-skelter on the floor, they found to their amazement that every piece was hanging in its place on a nail and not even a cobweb had been broken.

The clatter at night was meant to be nothing else but an omen of the old lord's death.

The Prince Who Was Saved From The Clutches Of An Eagle

Another lord of the Pahlen family who served in the Swedish army in his youth was, like his ancestor, proof against blade and bullet. In his old age, when once resting from the heat at Palmse, he saved a prince's life.

It so happened that one day, during a hunt, he strayed from his companions and came to the bank of a small river. Suddenly he heard a strange rumbling and roaring in the air like that of an approaching cloud of hail. But as far as he could see the sky was clear, without a trace of a cloud anywhere; yet, looking more sharply, he saw at the horizon in the south a black speck which, approaching fast and growing in size, gave rise to the roar.

With amazement the lord of Palmse saw that the black shape was nothing else but a huge eagle, with a child swinging from its clutches—whether the child was alive or dead, he could not tell.

The old lord perceived from the eagle's bearing that everything was not as it should be. He quickly tore a silver button from his suit, pushed it into his loaded gun, aimed and fired at the eagle. The evil bird let the child drop from its clutches and flew for shelter with a horrid swish.

The child fell into the river. A servant who chanced to hear the shot, jumped after the child and luckily saved it from the new danger. A tiny golden tablet hung from the child's neck on a golden chain. On it was written that the child was a prince from a far-off land. The old lord of Palmse sent the child with two of his trusted servants back to its parents who had been very worried because of its disappearance.

The king sent the rescuer generous gifts as a token of his gratitude, but the lord of Palmse would not accept anything, saying, "The saving of a life need not be paid in worldly goods. I only did my duty."

Later he had a water-mill built at the place where the child had fallen into the water. It still stands there and is called the Eagle Mill to this day. But I am afraid that nowadays not many who come to the mill would know whence the mill got its name.

The Mermaid And The Lord Of Palmse

In olden times one of the lords of Palmse happened to stroll on the seashore where he saw a maiden sit on a stone, crying bitterly. The lord stepped up to her and asked for the cause of her bitter tears. The maiden, looking at him tearfully for a long time, gave a deep sigh but did not say a word. The lord of Palmse gently stroked her head and cheeks, and asked kindly for the second time, "Tell me of the sorrow in your heart, for I am not asking you in idle curiosity but because I want to help you and dry the tears from your cheeks if I can."

The maiden replied, crying, "You are a mortal, so you can help me none because I live under a superior law. But as you are so kind I want to tell you of my misery. You see, I am the only daughter of Father Sea and must do his bidding without demur, even if it would break my heart and bring tears to my eyes. This morning I was told to raise the waves high toward evening and keep them roaring throughout the night. When I think how many ships and people will perish there, the sadness in my heart is overwhelming."

The lord of Palmse then wanted to know in more detail why Father Sea was fond of such an awful game which did much harm to so many. The maiden replied, "I believe he makes the waves roar only for the pleasure of Mother Wind with whom he has struck up a clandestine friendship and must now dance to her tune. If someone were able to remove the power-giving ring from my finger so that I no longer could raise the waves, then I would be of no help to my father and he would have to do that terrible work on his own."

The lord asked to see the ring and found it to have grown deep into the flesh so that there was no power which could have pulled it off the maiden's finger. After he had observed the ring for quite a while he asked the maiden for permission to try and bite the ring apart.

"If only it were possible," the maiden cried out in great relief, "I should be thankful to you forever and repay you amply for your trouble."

The lord of Palmse snapped at the ring. The maiden screamed with pain, there was a cracking sound—and the ring broke apart. The maiden threw her arms round the lord's neck and thanked him. Then she gave him the broken ring, saying, "Take it for a keepsake and never lose it, it will bring you luck. Tomorrow you are going to be paid for your trouble." Then, singing and dancing, she went toward the sea, sat upon the crest of a wave and swam away like a brent-goose. In a short while the lord of Palmse lost sight of her.

When he awoke and opened his eyes the next morning, he saw two strong iron-hooped barrels beside his bed. No one knew how the barrels had come to be there because, as far as the manor people knew, no stranger had been near the place since the night before and at night the doors of the room were locked. The barrels were found to be so heavy that three strong men could not move them, not to speak of lifting them. When the lids were prized open, they saw that both barrels were filled with gold up to the rim.

"Thank God!" the lord of Palmse cried. "Now I can fulfil the longing in my heart to do good to the poor." He had the people of his county called together on the same day and he shared out a handful of gold to each family. On this he spent one barrelful. Of the other barrel he gave one half for the building of a church, and the other half to the town of Tallinn, for the walls around the town to be fortified.

This was the source of the prosperity of the county of Palmse which has lasted till today.

The Building Of The Chapel

As the church at Kadrina was a long way off from Palmse and churchgoing was difficult for people in foul weather when the roads were bad, a lord of the Pahlen family had a chapel built for the people of his county at his own expense. When the new church was completed it had no bell which caused the sire great worry as at that time no bell-casters were to be found in our country. The lord of Palmse often prayed to God for His help to get the unfinished work done.

One day a heavy storm raged at sea and it brought a ship carrying a rich cargo into great danger. In great distress the captain of the ship promised to give two bells to the nearest church if God should help him and his crew safely to the shore. In a couple of hours the storm abated and the damaged ship safely reached the shore at Palmse where the ship was repaired. And the chapel got two sound bells.

The Lord Of Palmse Saves Tallinn From The Enemy

Once Tallinn, called a virginal town because no enemy could prevail over her, was besieged by enemy troops for a whole summer. The walls and towers around the town were strong and prevented the enemy from forcing its way into the town, but by and by hunger began to torment the townspeople so that woes grew day by day and the weaker ones, in their anguish, were filled with despair.

In this ordeal it was again one of the lords of the Pahlen family who saved them. He cunningly had a number of carts loaded with food and barrels of ale, as if he wanted to send them to the hungry townspeople. He had them brought near the enemy camp at Lasnamägi where they were intercepted in no time at all. Now, since woes here were no fewer than those in the town, the soldiers pitched into the food like a pack of hungry wolves, so that no one had time to keep watch on the town. The lord of Palmse took advantage of this brief respite in order to save the town. He had a fatted ox as well as a couple of bushels of malt taken unobserved to the town by way of the sea.

The townspeople started to brew some ale right away and at night they took it in a large vat up on to the town wall. There it was turned upside down and the brewing ale was poured on to the bottoms of barrels so that the froth ran down over the rim. They then led the ox up on to the wall as well where it ran about, mooing loudly and digging up the earth with its horns.

When the enemy soldiers saw the frothing barrels of ale on the walls and the fatted ox, their heart sank into their boots.

"Let the devil take them!" the soldiers cried. "People who can still brew so much ale and have fatted oxen strolling on the walls cannot be starved out of their town. We'll die of hunger sooner than they will."

The next morning the townspeople saw the enemy dismantling the camp and setting out for home. Tallinn was saved once again.

The Death Foretellers Of The Ladies Of Palmse

Older people tell of how God gave the ladies of Palmse the rare happiness of being foretold their hour of death every time one of them was going to depart this life.

It happened in this way: a few days before their death they usually saw themselves. They either saw their own shadow come to meet them or they saw it sitting in a chair they themselves used to sit in every day, or else they saw the shadow sleep in their bed. When one of them happened to see her own shape in this way, she knew that she would die very soon, because it had been the same way with her mother and grandmother.

A lady of Palmse had seen her own shadowy shape step into the room and look at her with a sad expression. Another lady of Palmse was about to take her place at the dinner-table when she saw herself already sitting in her chair.

The Man Who Hunted Ghosts

My late grandfather remembered quite a few stories of the old master of Kaarepere about whom he had heard as a little boy. The master of Kaarepere was renowned as a hunter of ghosts; he never went out at night without taking his gun, loaded with silver bullets, with him.

Soon all nightly prowlers were destroyed around Kaarepere, so that not one of them ever dared appear again, but they were often encountered in other localities. Thus the pastor of Haljala once asked the old gentleman to come and help him because, living near the churchyard, he seldom had peace at night. When the old gentleman went there he had his hands full of work the first few nights before peace reigned again in the churchyard. Every moonlit night people heard some four or five shots, until at last the hunter ran out of prey.

Yet he was mocked for a long time by a tall shape of a woman who rose up on a grave in the middle of the churchyard every night at the first cock-crow. After the shot she faded away like mist, yet a few moments later stood in her old place again. The old gentleman had already spent a couple of dozen of silver bullets on her but had not managed to vanquish the enemy.

Then one day an old man from the coast of Toolse came to him and said he had a plan how to drive the woman who did not fear silver bullets in front of wolves who probably would make short work of her.

Said the man from the coast, "I have a dog whose hair has been smoked with magic herbs. It will drive her away from the churchyard, but we must wait until February when the wolves are in heat and they roam about in packs." Since the lord of Kaarepere had no better plan himself, he was grateful to the man for his help; he promised to wait until it would be the right time for them to go hunting for the ghost, together with the dog.

So, on a moonlit February night, they went out to do the job. A couple of versts from the church, in an open field, stood a barn full of hay. The man from the coast posted a brave-hearted man he knew on guard there with a three-pointed pitchfork, to drive the fugitive away should she look for shelter in the barn when fleeing from the wolves.

More than an hour before midnight the lord of Kaarepere and the man from the coast went to the churchyard. They saw the familiar shape already standing on the grave. The old gentleman wanted to try his luck with his gun once more. He loaded the gun with a good strong charge and three silver bullets; after that he carefully took aim and then fired. The shape disappeared, but in a moment she reappeared in front of them again. Now the dog was set on her, who immediately scared the white shape away from the churchyard and drove her straight toward the swamp.

The shape ran in front, the dog, baying, chased after her. Not far away a small pack of about ten wolves appeared. The dog turned back along the road, while the wolves ran after the ghost. But the white shape seemed to have feet as fast as a bird's wings so that the wolves could not gain on her. A couple of steps from the barn she jumped like a squirrel through the upper door into the barn, sat down on the threshold and dangled her legs out the door.

In a short while the wolves arrived and stared with burning eyes at where the ghost was sitting—but they could not climb up the barn wall. The ghost began to tease them. She stretched out her right foot toward the wolves and then the left one, crying out each time, "Here, doggie, have this foot! Here, doggie, have the other one! No, you won't get either of them, they're both my own feet."

The guard who stood behind her watched this game for some time, then he gripped the handle of the fork with both hands and, with a strong thrust, pushed the ghost down in front of the wolves who tore her up immediately so that not a scrap of her was left.

The next morning the lord of Kaarepere and the man from the coast went to look the place over where the wolves had finished off the ghost at night, but all they could find was a piece of fine linen the width of a hand, and a gold ring. When the old gentleman looked for the name inside the ring, he turned as white as a sheet, because the name inside the ring was that of the mistress of a neighbouring estate. He drove over there at once but was told by the servants that neither the master nor the mistress was at home. A few days later the master returned alone, in mourning; and said that his wife had suddenly died in Tallinn a couple of days before. In spring he sold the estate and went to live abroad, and he never returned.

After the master's departure the people's tongues set wagging, first secretly, later in the open. The story went that the mistress had never behaved in a natural way. Everyone on the estate knew that she had not spent a single night at home: as soon as her husband had fallen asleep, she had smoked some herb under his nose and then, in her white night-gown, she had gone her way and returned only toward the morning. Others said that the late mistress never ate a morsel of food or drank a drop of anything, it was as if she got her sustenance from the wind—or else she filled her stomach in some secret place during her nocturnal prowls.

Jason Ladock

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