Upon a small headland which juts from the north into Lake Bolmen, lies
an old mansion, Tiraholm, by the peasantry called Tira.
A long time ago there lived here a knight who had a wife and an only
child, a beautiful daughter, named Malfred. In the whole country there
was not another so fair, and the fame of her beauty traveled far and
wide, alluring many suitors to her feet. But Malfred was unmoved by
their attentions and turned them away, one after the other.
One day a stately knight, Ebbe Skamelson by name, who had just returned
from foreign lands, where he had won his golden spurs, drew up in the
court-yard.
With downcast eyes and blushing cheeks the young lady extended her hand
when they met, to greet the stranger, who courteously returned her
salutation.
The stranger knight became for a time a guest at Tiraholm, and the
report soon went out, to the grief of many swains who had indulged in
dreams of sooner or later winning the hand of the beautiful maiden,
that Ebbe Skamelson and Malfred were betrothed. But, as both were still
young, the Knight expressed a desire to join the Crusades to the Holy
Land, where he hoped to add to his honors, and stipulated that he be
given seven years, at the end of which time he promised to return and
celebrate his nuptials.
Some time after Ebbe departed, the old Knight, Malfred’s father, died,
and it became very lonesone for the daughter and mother in Tiraholm.
Year after year passed with no word from Ebbe. The roses of the young
maiden’s cheeks faded and the dark eyes lost their lustre. The mother
advised a remedy and betrothed her to another.
Under the impression that Ebbe had fallen by the sword of the infidels
she prepared a wedding feast, and the newly betrothed couple were duly
joined according to the rites of the church.
But just as the wedding guests sat themselves at table a gold-laced
Knight rode into the court at great speed. The bride became pale under
her crown, but the mother, who recognized in the stranger the Knight
Ebbe, hastened to meet him in the yard, and reminded him that the seven
years had passed, at the same time informing him that his love now sat
in the bridal chair with another.
In great anger the Knight sprang to his horse, drew his sword, and
after reproaching her for breaking her promise, with one blow he
severed her head from her body. His sword still dripping with blood, he
sprang from his saddle and into the hall where the festivities were in
progress, where the bride sank under his sword, and the bridegroom at
another deadly blow fell by her side.
Overtaken by repentance the murderer flung himself upon his horse and
rode away into the dark forest, but the pricking of his conscience
allowed him no rest. Night and day he saw the apparitions of his
victims, and nowhere could he find an escape from them.
Finally he determined to go to Rome, and at the feet of the Holy Father
ask absolution from his crimes. A large sum of money procured for him
from the Pope the desired indulgence, but absolution from a man did not
possess the power to quiet his conscience, still his soul’s pain or
quell the storm raging in his heart. He then returned to the home of
his love, and asked the authorities to impose upon him the severest
punishment.
After a long deliberation he was sentenced by the court to be chained
hand and foot, in which condition he must visit and pass a day in each
one of the three hundred and sixty-five islands in Lake Bolmen. The
condemned man went at once about the execution of his sentence. In
order that he might get from one island to the other he was given a
small boat with which, like a wounded bird, he laboriously propelled
himself on his terrible journey.
When, at the end of the year, his sentence was completed he went ashore
on the estate of Anglestadt in the district of Sunnebro. Here he went
up to a village and rested over night in a barn. Meantime his sorrowful
fate had made a deep impression upon the people. A bard had composed a
song reciting the woes of Ebbe, and a soothsayer had predicted that
upon hearing the song sung Ebbe’s chains would fall off and his death
follow immediately. While he was lying concealed in the barn, a
milkmaid came in the morning to milk the cows. She began to sing
“Knight Ebbe’s Song,” to which he listened with intense interest. At
the conclusion of the last verse he cried out with loud voice: “Some is
true and some is false.”
Thoroughly frightened, the girl sprang into the house and related what
had happened. In great haste the people gathered around the barn where
Ebbe was lying, commanding him to inform them where he came from and
who he was. Still cumbered by his chains he crawled from his shelter
and gave his name, at the same time requesting them to conduct him to
the churchyard.
Between the village and the church of Anglestadt lies a stone sunken in
the ground. When he came to this Ebbe mounted it, raised his eyes to
heaven and cried out: “If I am worthy to be buried in consecrated
ground, so let it be!”
Instantly the fetters fell from his hands and feet and he sank to the
earth a corpse.
Those present took his body and carried it to the church where they
buried it in the path outside the churchyard wall, so that all who went
into the churchyard should tramp upon his grave. But the next night a
long section of the wall, right in front of the grave, was miraculously
thrown down. The peasants at once relaid it, but the next night it was
again leveled. It was then understood that these happenings were signs
that the unfortunate man should be allowed a resting place in
consecrated ground, whereupon the churchyard was extended so that the
grave was enclosed by its walls, and a low stone even to this day marks
the resting place of the outcast. From the fetters, which for a long
time hung in Anglestadt church, three iron crosses, resembling the
small crosses which were in former times set up in memory of the
departed, have been made and placed upon the present church.