On the estate of Brokind, in the parish of Vardsnäs, dwelt, in days
gone by, a rich and distinguished lady named Barbro, who was so
hard-hearted and severe with her dependents that for the least
transgression they were bound, their hands behind their backs, and cast
into prison, where, to add to their misery, she caused a table, upon
which a bountiful supply of food and drink was placed, to be spread
before them, which, of course, bound as they were, they could not
reach. Upon complaint being made to her that the prisoners were
perishing from hunger and thirst, she would reply, laughingly: “They
have both food and drink; if they will not partake of it the fault is
theirs, not mine.”
Thus the prison at Brokind was known far and wide, and the spot where
it stood is to this day called Kisthagen, in memory of it.
When Lady Barbro finally died she was buried in the grave with her
forefathers, in the cathedral of Linköping, but this was followed by
such ghostly disturbances that it became necessary to take her body up,
when it was interred in the churchyard of Vardsnäs.
Neither was she at rest here, whereupon, at the suggestion of one of
the wiser men of the community, her body was again taken up, and, drawn
by a yoke of twin oxen, was conveyed to a swamp, where it was deposited
and a pole thrust through both coffin and corpse. Ever after, at
nightfall, an unearthly noise was heard in the swamp, and the cry of
“Barbro, pole! Barbro, pole!”
The spirit was, for the time being, quieted, but, as with ghosts in all
old places, it returned after a time, and often a light is seen in the
large, uninhabited building at Brokind.