King Gustaf the Third was travelling through Dalecarlia. He was pressed
for time, and all the way he wanted to drive like lightning. Although
they drove with such speed that the horses were extended like stretched
rubber bands and the coach cleared the turns on two wheels, the King
poked his head out of the window and shouted to the postilion: "Why
don't you go ahead? Do you think you are driving over eggs?"
Since they had to drive over poor country roads at such a mad pace, it
would have been almost a miracle had the harness and wagon held
together! And they didn't, either; for at the foot of a steep hill the
pole broke--and there the King sat! The courtiers sprang from the coach
and scolded the driver, but this did not lessen the damage done. There
was no possibility of continuing the journey until the coach was mended.
When the courtiers looked round to try and find something with which the
King could amuse himself while he waited, they noticed a church spire
looming high above the trees in a grove a short distance ahead. They
intimated to the King that he might step into one of the coaches in
which the attendants were riding and drive up to the church. It was a
Sunday, and the King might attend service to pass the time until the
royal coach was ready.
The King accepted the proposal and drove toward the church. He had been
travelling for hours through dark forest regions, but here it looked
more cheerful, with fairly large meadows and villages, and with the Dal
River gliding on, light and pretty, between thick rows of alder bushes.
But the King had ill-luck to this extent: the bellringer took up the
recessional chant just as the King was stepping from the coach on the
church knoll and the people were coming out from the service. But when
they came walking past him, the King remained standing, with one foot in
the wagon and the other on the footstep. He did not move from the
spot--only stared at them. They were the finest lot of folk he had ever
seen. All the men were above the average height, with intelligent and
earnest faces, and the women were dignified and stately, with an air of
Sabbath peace about them.
The whole of the preceding day the King had talked only of the desolate
tracts he was passing through, and had said to his courtiers again and
again, "Now I am certainly driving through the very poorest part of my
kingdom!" But now, when he saw the people, garbed in the picturesque
dress of this section of the country, he forgot to think of their
poverty; instead his heart warmed, and he remarked to himself: "The King
of Sweden is not so badly off as his enemies think. So long as my
subjects look like this, I shall probably be able to defend both my
faith and my country."
He commanded the courtiers to make known to the people that the stranger
who was standing amongst them was their King, and that they should
gather around him, so he could talk to them.
And then the King made a speech to the people. He spoke from the high
steps outside the vestry, and the narrow step upon which he stood is
there even to-day.
The King gave an account of the sad plight in which the kingdom was
placed. He said that the Swedes were threatened with war, both by
Russians and Danes. Under ordinary circumstances it wouldn't be such a
serious matter, but now the army was filled with traitors, and he did
not dare depend upon it. Therefore there was no other course for him to
pursue than to go himself into the country settlements and ask his
subjects if they would be loyal to their King and help him with men and
money, so he could save the Fatherland.
The peasants stood quietly while the King was speaking, and when he had
finished they gave no sign either of approval or disapproval.
The King himself thought that he had spoken very well. The tears had
sprung to his eyes several times while he was speaking. But when the
peasants stood there all the while, troubled and undecided, and could
not make up their minds to answer him, the King frowned and looked
displeased.
The peasants understood that it was becoming monotonous for the King to
wait, and finally one of them stepped out from the crowd.
"Now, you must know, King Gustaf, that we were not expecting a royal
visit in the parish to-day," said the peasant, "and therefore we are not
prepared to answer you at once. I advise you to go into the vestry and
speak with our pastor, while we discuss among ourselves this matter
which you have laid before us."
The King apprehended that a more satisfactory response was not to be had
immediately, so he felt that it would be best for him to follow the
peasant's advice.
When he came into the vestry, he found no one there but a man who looked
like a peasant. He was tall and rugged, with big hands, toughened by
labor, and he wore neither cassock nor collar, but leather breeches and
a long white homespun coat, like all the other men.
He arose and bowed to the King when the latter entered.
"I thought I should find the parson in here," said the King.
The man grew somewhat red in the face. He thought it annoying to mention
the fact that he was the parson of this parish, when he saw that the
King had mistaken him for a peasant. "Yes," said he, "the parson is
usually on hand in here."
The King dropped into a large armchair which stood in the vestry at that
time, and which stands there to-day, looking exactly like itself, with
this difference: the congregation has had a gilded crown attached to the
back of it.
"Have you a good parson in this parish?" asked the King, who wanted to
appear interested in the welfare of the peasants.
When the King questioned him in this manner, the parson felt that he
couldn't possibly tell who he was. "It's better to let him go on
believing that I'm only a peasant," thought he, and replied that the
parson was good enough. He preached a pure and clear gospel and tried to
live as he taught.
The King thought that this was a good commendation, but he had a sharp
ear and marked a certain doubt in the tone. "You sound as if you were
not quite satisfied with the parson," said the King.
"He's a bit arbitrary," said the man, thinking that if the King should
find out later who he was, he would not think that the parson had been
standing here and blowing his own horn, therefore he wished to come out
with a little fault-finding also. "There are some, no doubt, who say the
parson wants to be the only one to counsel and rule in this parish," he
continued.
"Then, at all events, he has led and managed in the best possible way,"
said the King. He didn't like it that the peasant complained of one who
was placed above him. "To me it appears as though good habits and
old-time simplicity were the rule here."
"The people are good enough," said the curate, "but then they live in
poverty and isolation. Human beings here would certainly be no better
than others if this world's temptations came closer to them."
"But there's no fear of anything of the sort happening," said the King
with a shrug.
He said nothing further, but began thrumming on the table with his
fingers. He thought he had exchanged a sufficient number of gracious
words with this peasant and wondered when the others would be ready with
their answer.
"These peasants are not very eager to help their King," thought he. "If
I only had my coach, I would drive away from them and their palaver!"
The pastor sat there troubled, debating with himself as to how he should
decide an important matter which he must settle. He was beginning to
feel happy because he had not told the King who he was. Now he felt that
he could speak with him about matters which otherwise he could not have
placed before him.
After a while the parson broke the silence and asked the King if it was
an actual fact that enemies were upon them and that the kingdom was in
danger.
The King thought this man ought to have sense enough not to trouble him
further. He simply glared at him and said nothing.
"I ask because I was standing in here and could not hear very well,"
said the parson. "But if this is really the case, I want to say to you
that the pastor of this congregation might perhaps be able to procure
for the King as much money as he will need."
"I thought you said just now that every one here was poor," said the
King, thinking that the man didn't know what he was talking about.
"Yes, that is true," replied the rector, "and the parson has no more
than any of the others. But if the King would condescend to listen to me
for a moment, I will explain how the pastor happens to have the power to
help him."
"You may speak," said the King. "You seem to find it easier to get the
words past your lips than your friends and neighbors out there, who
never will be ready with what they have to tell me."
"It is not so easy to reply to the King! I'm afraid that, in the end, it
will be the parson who must undertake this on behalf of the others."
The King crossed his legs, folded his arms, and let his head sink down
on his breast. "You may begin now," he said in the tone of one already
asleep.
"Once upon a time there were five men from this parish who were out on a
moose hunt," began the clergyman. "One of them was the parson of whom
we are speaking. Two of the others were soldiers, named Olaf and Eric
Svärd; the fourth man was the innkeeper in this settlement, and the
fifth was a peasant named Israel Per Persson."
"Don't go to the trouble of mentioning so many names," muttered the
King, letting his head droop to one side.
"Those men were good hunters," continued the parson, "who usually had
luck with them; but that day they had wandered long and far without
getting anything. Finally they gave up the hunt altogether and sat down
on the ground to talk. They said there was not a spot in the whole
forest fit for cultivation; all of it was only mountain and swamp land.
'Our Lord has not done right by us in giving us such a poor land to live
in,' said one. 'In other localities people can get riches for themselves
in abundance, but here, with all our toil and drudgery, we can scarcely
get our daily bread.'"
The pastor paused a moment, as if uncertain that the King heard him, but
the latter moved his little finger to show that he was awake.
"Just as the hunters were discussing this matter, the parson saw
something that glittered at the base of the mountain, where he had
kicked away a moss-tuft. 'This is a queer mountain,' he thought, as he
kicked off another moss-tuft. He picked up a shiver of stone that came
with the moss and which shone exactly like the other. 'It can't be
possible that this stuff is lead,' said he. Then the others sprang up
and scraped away the turf with the butt end of their rifles. When they
did this, they saw plainly that a broad vein of ore followed the
mountain. 'What do you think this might be?' asked the parson. The men
chipped off bits of stone and bit into them. 'It must be lead, or zinc
at least,' said they. 'And the whole mountain is full of it,' added the
innkeeper."
When the parson had got thus far in his narrative, the King's head was
seen to straighten up a little and one eye opened. "Do you know if any
of those persons knew anything about ore and minerals?" he asked.
"They did not," replied the parson.
Then the King's head sank and both eyes closed.
"The clergyman and his companions were very happy," continued the
speaker, without letting himself be disturbed by the King's
indifference; "they fancied that now they had found that which would
give them and their descendants wealth. 'I'll never have to do any more
work,' said one. 'Now I can afford to do nothing at all the whole week
through, and on Sundays I shall drive to church in a golden chariot!'
They were otherwise sensible men, but the great find had gone to their
heads and they talked like children. Still they had enough presence of
mind to put back the moss-tufts and conceal the vein of ore. Then they
carefully noted the place where it was, and went home. Before they
parted company, they agreed that the parson should travel to Falun and
ask the mining expert what kind of ore this was. He was to return as
soon as possible, and until then they promised one another on oath not
to reveal to a single soul where the ore was to be found."
The King's head was raised again a trifle, but he did not interrupt the
speaker with a word. It appeared as though he was beginning to believe
that the man actually had something of importance he wished to say to
him, since he didn't allow himself to be disturbed by his indifference.
"Then the parson departed with a few samples of ore in his pocket. He
was just as happy in the thought of becoming rich as the others were. He
was thinking of rebuilding the parsonage, which at present was no better
than a peasant's cottage, and then he would marry a dean's daughter whom
he liked. He had thought that he might have to wait for her many years!
He was poor and obscure and knew that it would be a long while before he
should get any post that would enable him to marry.
"The parson drove over to Falun in two days, and there he had to wait
another whole day because the mining expert was away. Finally, he ran
across him and showed him the bits of ore. The mining expert took them
in his hand. He looked at them first, then at the parson. The parson
related how he had found them in a mountain at home in his parish, and
wondered if it might not be lead.
"'No, it's not lead,' said the mining expert.
"'Perhaps it is zinc, then?' asked the parson.
"'Nor is it zinc,' said the mineralogist.
"The parson thought that all the hope within him sank. He had not been
so depressed in many a long day.
"'Have you many stones like these in your parish?' asked the
mineralogist.
"'We have a whole mountain full,' said the parson.
"Then the mineralogist came up closer, slapped the parson on the
shoulder, and said, 'Let us see that you make such good use of this that
it will prove a blessing both to yourselves and to the country, for this
is silver.'
"'Indeed?' said the parson, feeling his way. 'So it is silver!'
"The mineralogist began telling him how he should go to work to get
legal rights to the mine and gave him many valuable suggestions; but the
parson stood there dazed and didn't listen to what he was saying. He was
only thinking of how wonderful it was that at home in his poor parish
stood a whole mountain of silver ore, waiting for him."
The King raised his head so suddenly that the parson stopped short in
his narrative. "It turned out, of course, that when he got home and
began working the mine, he saw that the mineralogist had only been
fooling him," said the King.
"Oh, no, the mineralogist had not fooled him," said the parson.
"You may continue," said the King, as he settled himself more
comfortably in the chair to listen.
"When the parson was at home again and was driving through the parish,"
continued the clergyman, "he thought that first of all he should inform
his partners of the value of their find. And as he drove alongside the
innkeeper Sten Stensson's place, he intended to drive up to the house to
tell him they had found silver. But when he stopped outside the gate,
he noticed that a broad path of evergreen was strewn all the way up to
the doorstep.
"'Who has died in this place?' asked the parson of a boy who stood
leaning against the fence.
"'The innkeeper himself,' answered the boy. Then he let the clergyman
know that the innkeeper had drunk himself full every day for a week.
'Oh, so much brandy, so much brandy has been drunk here!'
"'How can that be?' asked the parson. 'The innkeeper used never to drink
himself full.'
"'Oh,' said the boy, 'he drank because he said he had found a mine. He
was very rich. He should never have to do anything now but drink, he
said. Last night he drove off, full as he was, and the wagon turned over
and he was killed.'
"When the parson heard this, he drove homeward. He was distressed over
what he had heard. He had come back so happy, rejoicing because he could
tell the great good news.
"When the parson had driven a few paces, he saw Israel Per Persson
walking along. He looked about as usual, and the parson thought it was
well that fortune had not gone to his head too. Him he would cheer at
once with the news that he was a rich man.
"'Good day!' said Per Persson. 'Do you come from Falun now?'
"'I do,' said the parson. 'And now I must tell you that it has turned
out even better than we had imagined. The mineralogist said it was
silver ore that we had found.'
"That instant Per Persson looked as though the ground under him had
opened! 'What are you saying, what are you saying? Is it silver?'
"'Yes,' answered the parson. 'We'll all be rich men now, all of us, and
can live like gentlemen.'
"'Oh, is it silver!' said Per Persson once again, looking more and more
mournful.
"'Why, of course it is silver,' replied the parson. 'You mustn't think
that I want to deceive you. You mustn't be afraid of being happy.'
"'Happy!' said Per Persson. 'Should I be happy? I believed it was only
glitter that we had found, so I thought it would be better to take the
certain for the uncertain: I have sold my share in the mine to Olaf
Svärd for a hundred dollars.' He was desperate, and when the parson
drove away from him, he stood on the highway and wept.
"When the clergyman got back to his home, he sent a servant to Olaf
Svärd and his brother to tell them that it was silver they had found.
He thought that he had had quite enough of driving around and spreading
the good news.
"But in the evening, when the parson sat alone, his joy asserted itself
again. He went out in the darkness and stood on a hillock upon which he
contemplated building the new parsonage. It should be imposing, of
course, as fine as a bishop's palace. He stood out there long that
night; nor did he content himself with rebuilding the parsonage! It
occurred to him that, since there were such riches to be found in the
parish, throngs of people would pour in and, finally, a whole city would
be built around the mine. And then he would have to erect a new church
in place of the old one. Towards this object a large portion of his
wealth would probably go. And he was not content with this, either, but
fancied that when his church was ready, the King and many bishops would
come to the dedication. Then the King would be pleased with the church,
but he would remark that there was no place where a king might put up,
and then he would have to erect a castle in the new city."
Just then one of the King's courtiers opened the door of the vestry and
announced that the big royal coach was mended.
At the first moment the King was ready to withdraw, but on second
thought he changed his mind. "You may tell your story to the end," he
said to the parson. "But you can hurry it a bit. We know all about how
the man thought and dreamed. We want to know how he acted."
"But while the parson was still lost in his dreams," continued the
clergyman, "word came to him that Israel Per Persson had made away with
himself. He had not been able to bear the disappointment of having sold
his share in the mine. He had thought, no doubt, that he could not
endure to go about every day seeing another enjoying the wealth that
might have been his."
The King straightened up a little. He kept both eyes open. "Upon my
word," he said, "if I had been that parson, I should have had enough of
the mine!"
"The King is a rich man," said the parson. "He has quite enough, at all
events. It is not the same thing with a poor curate who possesses
nothing. The unhappy wretch thought instead, when he saw that God's
blessing was not with his enterprise: 'I will dream no more of bringing
glory and profit to myself with these riches; but I can't let the silver
lie buried in the earth! I must take it out, for the benefit of the
poor and needy. I will work the mine, to put the whole parish on its
feet.'
"So one day the parson went out to see Olaf Svärd, to ask him and his
brother as to what should be done immediately with the silver mountain.
When he came in the vicinity of the barracks, he met a cart surrounded
by armed peasants, and in the cart sat a man with his hands tied behind
him and a rope around his ankles.
"When the parson passed by, the cart stopped, and he had time to regard
the prisoner, whose head was tied up so it wasn't easy to see who he
was. But the parson thought he recognized Olaf Svärd. He heard the
prisoner beg those who guarded him to let him speak a few words with the
parson.
"The parson drew nearer, and the prisoner turned toward him. 'You will
soon be the only one who knows where the silver mine is,' said Olaf.
"'What are you saying, Olaf?' asked the parson.
"'Well, you see, parson, since we have learned that it was a silver mine
we had found, my brother and I could no longer be as good friends as
before. We were continually quarrelling. Last night we got into a
controversy over which one of us five it was who first discovered the
mine. It ended in strife between us, and we came to blows. I have killed
my brother and he has left me with a souvenir across the forehead to
remember him by. I must hang now, and then you will be the only one who
knows anything about the mine; therefore I wish to ask something of
you.'
"'Speak out!' said the parson. 'I'll do what I can for you.'
"'You know that l am leaving several little children behind me,' began
the soldier, but the parson interrupted him.
"'As regards this, you can rest easy. That which comes to your share in
the mine, they shall have, exactly as if you yourself were living.'
"'No,' said Olaf Svärd, 'it was another thing I wanted to ask of you.
Don't let them have any portion of that which comes from the mine!'
"The parson staggered back a step. He stood there dumb and could not
answer.
"'If you do not promise me this, I cannot die in peace,' said the
prisoner.
"'Yes,' said the parson slowly and painfully. 'I promise you what you
ask of me.'
"Thereupon the murderer was taken away, and the parson stood on the
highway thinking how he should keep the promise he had given him. On
the way home he thought of the wealth which he had been so happy over.
But if it really were true that the people in this community could not
stand riches?--Already four were ruined, who hitherto had been dignified
and excellent men. He seemed to see the whole community before him, and
he pictured to himself how this silver mine would destroy one after
another. Was it befitting that he, who had been appointed to watch over
these poor human beings' souls, should let loose upon them that which
would be their destruction?"
All of a sudden the King sat bolt upright in his chair. "I declare!"
said he, "you'll make me understand that a parson in this isolated
settlement must be every inch a man."
"Nor was it enough with what had already happened," continued the
parson, "for as soon as the news about the mine spread among the
parishioners, they stopped working and went about in idleness, waiting
for the time when great riches should pour in on them. All the
ne'er-do-wells there were in this section streamed in, and drunkenness
and fighting were what the parson heard talked of continually. A lot of
people did nothing but tramp round in the forest searching for the mine,
and the parson marked that as soon as he left the house people followed
him stealthily to find out if he wasn't going to the silver mountain and
to steal the secret from him.
"When matters were come to this pass, the parson called the peasants
together to vote. To start with, he reminded them of all the misfortunes
which the discovery of the mountain had brought upon them, and he asked
them if they were going to let themselves be ruined or if they would
save themselves. Then he told them that they must not expect him, who
was their spiritual adviser, to help on their destruction. Now he had
decided not to reveal to any one where the silver mine was, and never
would he himself take riches from it. And then he asked the peasants how
they would have it henceforth. If they wished to continue their search
for the mine and wait upon riches, then he would go so far away that not
a hearsay of their misery could reach him; but if they would give up
thinking about the silver mine and be as heretofore, he would remain
with them. 'Whichever way you may choose,' said the parson, 'remember
this, that from me no one shall ever know anything about the silver
mountain!'"
"Well," said the King, "how did they decide?"
"They did as their pastor wished," said the parson. "They understood
that he meant well by them when he wanted to remain poor for their
sakes. And they commissioned him to go to the forest and conceal the
vein of ore with evergreen and stone, so that no one would be able to
find it--neither they themselves nor their posterity."
"And ever since the parson has been living here just as poor as the
rest?"
"Yes," answered the curate, "he has lived here just as poor as the
rest."
"He has married, of course, and built himself a new parsonage?" said the
King.
"No, he couldn't afford to marry, and he lives in the old cabin."
"It's a pretty story that you have told me," said the King. After a few
seconds he resumed: "Was it of the silver mountain that you were
thinking when you said that the parson here would be able to procure for
me as much money as I need?"
"Yes," said the other.
"But I can't put the thumb-screws on him," said the King. "Or how would
you that I should get such a man to show me the mountain--a man who has
renounced his sweetheart and all the allurements of life?"
"Oh, that's a different matter," said the parson. "But if it's the
Fatherland that is in need of the fortune, he will probably give in."
"Will you answer for that?" asked the King.
"Yes, that I will answer for," said the clergyman.
"Doesn't he care, then, what becomes of his parishioners?"
"That can rest in God's hand."
The King rose from the chair and walked over to the window. He stood for
a moment and looked upon the group of people outside. The longer he
looked, the clearer his large eyes shone, and his figure seemed to grow.
"You may greet the pastor of this congregation, and say that for
Sweden's King there is no sight more beautiful than to see a people such
as this!"
Then the King turned from the window and looked at the clergyman. He
began to smile. "Is it true that the pastor of this parish is so poor
that he removes his black clothes as soon as the service is over and
dresses himself like a peasant?" asked the King.
"Yes, so poor is he," said the curate, and a crimson flush leaped into
his rough-hewn face.
The King went back to the window. One could see that he was in his best
mood. All that was noble and great within him had been quickened into
life. "You must let that mine lie in peace," said the King. "Inasmuch
as you have labored and starved a lifetime to make this people such as
you would have it, you may keep it as it is."
"But if the kingdom is in danger?" said the parson.
"The kingdom is better served with men than with money," remarked the
King. When he had said this, he bade the clergyman farewell and went out
from the vestry.
Without stood the group of people, as quiet and taciturn as they were
when he went in. As the King came down the steps, a peasant stepped up
to him.
"Have you had a talk with our pastor?" said the peasant.
"Yes," said the King. "I have talked with him."
"Then of course you have our answer?" said the peasant. "We asked you to
go in and talk with our parson, that he might give you an answer from
us."
"I have the answer," said the King.