The Bell in Själevad
When the church at Själevad was about to be built, parishioners could not agree upon a location. Those who resided farthest north wished it built at Hemling, and those dwelling to the south desired it more convenient to them. To terminate the wrangle an agreement was arrived at as ingenious as simple. Two logs were thrown out into Hörätt Sound, and it was decided that if they floated out to sea the church should be built at Voge, but if they floated in toward the Fjord of Själevad, Hemling should be the building spot.
It happened that just then it was full high tide, when the current changes from its usual course, and in consequence the logs floated in favor of Hemling.
The Southerners found it hard to swallow their disappointment and at once set their wits at work to find a way to defeat the accidental good luck of their neighbors. In the old chapel of Hemling there was an unusually large bell, said to have been brought from some strange land, and regarded with great veneration. Upon this the Southerners set their hope. One beautiful night they stole the bell and took it southward, persuaded that their opponents would follow and build the church near Voge. But the bell, which knew best where the church ought to stand, provided itself with invisible wings and started to fly back to the place from which it had been brought.
As it was winging its way homeward, an old woman standing on Karnigberg—Hag Mountain—saw something strange floating through the air, at which she stared earnestly, wondering what it could be, finally recognizing the much prized bell of the parish, whereupon she cried out:—
“Oh! See our holy church bell!”
Nothing more was needed to deprive the bell of its power of locomotion and it plunged, like a stone, into Prest Sund—priest sound—where, every winter, a hole in the ice marks its resting place at the bottom.
In Herjedalen, as in many of the northern regions of our country, where there is yet something remaining of the primitive pastoral life, there are still kept alive reminiscences of a very ancient people, whose occupation was herding cattle, which constituted their wealth and support. It is, however, with a later and more civilized people, though no date is given, that this narrative deals.
In days gone by, so the story goes, it happened that a milkmaid did not produce as much milk and butter from her herd as usual, for which her master took her severely to task. The girl sought vindication by charging it upon the Vätts, who, she claimed, possessed the place and appropriated a share of the product of the herd. This, the master was not willing to believe, but, to satisfy himself, went one autumn evening, after the cattle had been brought home, to the dairy house, where he secreted himself, as he supposed, under an upturned cheese kettle. He had not sat in his hiding place long when a Vätt mother with her family—a large one—came trooping in and began preparation for their meal.
The mother, who was busy at the fireplace, finally inquired if all had spoons.
“Yes,” replied one of the Vätts. “All except him under the kettle.”
The dairyman’s doubts were now dispelled, and he hastened to move his residence to another place.
It is probable that the “Stone in Grönan Dal” is like the traditional Phœnix, a pure tradition, since it has never been found by any one of the many who have made pilgrimages to the valley in search of it, for the purpose of deciphering the Runic characters said to be engraved thereon. Yet many stories are widely current in the land concerning it, and the old people relate the following:
When St. Jaffen, “the Apostle of the North,” was one time riding through Jämtland from the borders of Norway, his way led along a beautiful green valley, in the parish of Åre. Becoming weary, he dismounted and laid himself down for a nap. When he awoke it occurred to him that such a garden spot must some day be inhabited by mankind, so, selecting a slab of stone, he cut in its surface the following prophetic lines:
“When Swedish men adopt foreign customs
And the land loses its old honor,
Yet, shall stand the Stone in Grönan Dal.
When churches are converted into prisons,
And God’s services have lost their joyous light,
Yet shall stand the Stone in Grönan Dal.
When rogues and villains thrive
And honest men are banished,
Yet will stand the Stone in Grönan Dal.
When priests become beggars,
And farmers monsters,
Then shall lie the Stone in Grönan Dal.”
When the Governor of the Province, Baron Tilas, in 1742, traveled through Jämtland, he found, a few paces east of the gate of Skurdal, a stone lying, which he concluded must be the stone so much talked about. When his coat of arms and the date had been engraved upon it, he caused it to be raised, so that, “even yet it stands, the Stone in Grönan Dal.”