A HELENA NYBLOM FAIRYTALE
Svanhamnen
It was a night just before midsummers eve many, many years ago. The sky and the earth were as beautiful as they are now. The sun had just set, yet a golden glow was still lingering on the horizon, far far away in eternity, a star, almost invisible, glittering. The long Tyresö cove, clear like a mirror, and the forest was quiet and still. In the river that runs out in the cove, the water was black as night underneath the firs, but further out there was a rosy, red, golden glow mirroring the sunset. The only sound that could be heard was the tones of a thrush singing. It sat in the very top of a fir and seamed to express all its delight over the wonderful summer’s night with a cheerful warble. In the air lay a strong aroma from all the earths vegetation, Linnea and Pyrola mixed their fragrances with those of Fir and Juniper. From time to time a fish jumped high in the river, but then disappeared as sudden as it had appeared and once again everything lay quiet. The song of the thrush stopped abruptly when, on the night sky, it saw something unexpected. Three swans came flying with rustling wings and settled down where the river runs out in the cove. The thrush flew off, deeper into the forest, while the three swans eased towards land. Two of them stayed near the water while the third flew further, in between thick groves. A moment later, all three of them had shed their feathers, and there stood three most beautiful young princesses.
“There is no living soul out here,” the eldest of them said.
“We can swim here before we fly on,” the other one said.
The third one, the youngest of the three, and the most beautiful one, let out a shout of joy and threw herself headlong into the cool water, her sisters soon followed. They played cheerfully in the water. The three princesses could swim like swans, they swam on their backs, dived and came back up with waterlilies around their shoulders. They laughed and screamed, splashed the water, and tumbled around in the waves. In the meantime, the sky became paler and the star more and more visible. Time after another they ran ashore and threw themselves in the moss amongst the flowers, just to return to the water and swim around.
“Quiet! I think I can hear human voices, quick, lets flee!” The eldest of the princesses exclaimed.
A moment later the two elder princesses had climbed out of the water and dressed in their feathers. Once again, they stood there as two big white swans, stretching their necks.
“Hurry!” They yelled to their younger sister, who was still in the water.
“We are flying north, northwest, come after us as soon as you can!” And they flew off above the mountains.
The youngest princess hurried up to the forest line and in between the groves to find her feathers, but she could not find it anywhere. Anxiously she ran back and forth and searched in all the bushes.
“Oh dear!” She wailed and twisted her hands. “My feathers, my feathers, where did I let them fall?”
What had happened was that while the princess had been bathing in the cove, her feathers had been found and taken by an old crofter lady that had her house next to the groves. She came home from work and saw something white between the bushes.
“Oh my!” The old lady exclaimed and carefully lifted the feathers. “Such a blanket someone has dropped here! This is going to be a bless for my cold legs when it is snowing in the forest!” She said to herself and hurried home to her house with the feathers.
Poor princess! She cried and sobbed, she trembled of anxiety and the cold, but her feathers were and remained gone. The house where the old lady lived, could not be seen, hidden away by the groves, almost the same colour as the ground and trees.
Exhausted she sat down on a tussock. Covered her eyes with her hands and gave in to the despair. It started to darken in the forest and soon it became as dark as it gets on a summer night in Sweden. The birds were singing their half-hearted songs, the dew fell. Everything was as beautiful as it can be on a summer’s night, but the young princess thought it was awful. She felt so utterly unhappy, and she did not know what she could do to get understood by humans. She could not speak their language, and on top of everything, she was naked! Yes, she was so very unhappy.
However, when the dawn came closer, she got up and started walking towards the castle. She could see the tower above the trees. Her hair was so long that she wore it as a coat and she strode up over the meadows and towards the barn, where she saw a woman the was milking the cows. But as soon as the woman saw her, she let go of the cow, the stool, and ran screaming inside to the housekeeper. She thought it was the lady of the woods herself that came walking through the grass at dawn. The housekeeper came out, followed by a couple of maids, and since she was a brave and fearless woman, she went to meet the young princess.
“What of a kind are you that comes walking like this, all naked in the morning sun?” She asked. But the princess could not understand or respond to what she was asked. She just looked miserable and clasped her hands in such a besieging way that the housekeeper pitied her.
“Whether you are the lady of the woods or a troll, I feel sorry for you. I can give you at least a skirt and a pair of socks,” she said. And so, she took the princess with her and dressed her to look like the servant girls and then she asked her what kind of work she could do. The girl just shook her head and did not understand a word. The housekeeper took her with her through the kitchen and the pantry, the laundry room and into the weaving room. When the princess laid her eyes on the loom, she smiled and sat down to weave. Then, the housekeeper understood that here, the girl could be of use. And from that day, she became the weaver at Tyresö Castle. It did not take long before she learned how to speak the language that she heard around her and never had the housekeeper had a kinder and more diligent servant girl.
Although, she did not resemble the other girls in any way. Her hands were smooth and her stride like a queen´s. All day long she would sit in the weaving room by the loom and her work there was also of a kind that none had ever seen. She weaved peculiar patterns with strange flowers and birds, sometimes letters and words that no one could read. She rarely did anything with the others, but when she was free, she would take walks alone out on the meadows by the cove. Then she would walk around with her head lowered and her eyes fixed on the ground, as if she were looking for something she had lost.
She mostly had a serious expression on her face. If she smiled, as she seldom did, she was so ravishingly beautiful that the housekeeper couldn’t help thinking that maybe she wasn’t even human, but an entity from an unknown world that had gotten lost among mere mortals.
At the time, there was no man of the house; he was dead, and his widow, Mrs. Britta Blå, took care of the castle on behalf of her son, young Mr Olof. He had heard of the new servant girl that the housekeeper took under her wing and that she liked her a lot. Faster than anyone, she learned everything and understood how it should be done. She did everything that was asked of her and she did it fast and beautifully. What Mrs Britta thought peculiar was that no one could grasp where she came from, and the girl herself never mentioned anything. If Britta herself asked her about her past she just looked at her with sad eyes and said, “I’m just a poor abandoned girl, but here I got my home and my refuge and I want to show my gratitude through my obedience.” And then Mrs Britta did not ask anything further.
It happened that Mr Olof had his twenty-first birthday, and from that day on he would take on all the responsibilities and rights as lord of Tyresö Castle.
With reason of this day there would be a big party in the castle, and all the servants were busy decorating and making everything ready for the celebrations. In the hall, a lot of candles would be lit and the princess was given the task to put the candles in the chandeliers. She was stood up on a ladder, placing candles in a chandelier, hanging from the ceiling when Mr Olof came through the door. He had never seen the stranger before and he froze at the sight of her, hit by her great beauty.
The sun was shining on her golden hair and her white arms, raised to place the candles. She did not notice him coming in so he could effortlessly study her. He stood there a long time, occupied by watching her movements. Then he went to his mother to ask, who this beautiful woman could be. From his description, Mrs Britta immediately understood who he was referring to and she told him that she was a poor girl that had come one early summers morning, but no one knew her name or where she came from. With that information he had to make do.
But during the party, amongst all the noble and beautiful ladies, he could not think of anything else but her, the girl he had seen that same morning. The second time he saw her was an evening when she had put fabric out to be bleached on the grass. She was barefoot, never had he seen such small, white feet. But when he wanted to talk to her, all she did was blush and walk away fast paced.
The third time he saw her was after a hunt. He had been to a lake, where a lot of birds were nesting, and there he shot a lot of ducks. But among them were also a swan, and now all the dead birds lay in a pile in the great hall. When Mr Olof came out from the dining hall, he saw the girl, on her knees between the dead animals. She had taken hold of the swan’s neck and raised its beak toward her lips, meanwhile, tears streaked her cheeks.
She stroked her hand slowly over its head as if she wanted to comfort it with her touch. Suddenly she noticed that someone was nearby, she stood up and wanted to walk away, but this time she could not move. Mr Olof took hold of her hand and said, in his most gentle voice, “You, the most beautiful of all women! Who are you? And where do you come from?”
“Alas! Let me go!” She begged. “I am just a poor little girl that serves here at the castle. I do not have a father or a mother, no house, no home.”
“Then your home shall be with me,” said Mr Olof. “My wife you shall be, and my castle shall be yours as well and here, we will live happily until our death, because I love you more than anything on this earth.”
The young princess was aghast by his words and did not want to listen to him anymore. But this was not just a whimsicality by the young lord of Tyresö. He had taken such a fancy to this stranger that he told his mother he would die if he did not get to have her as his wife. Mrs. Britta then became very sad and all the love for this young girl turned to hate and despise. It did not take long before everyone at the castle knew of Mr Olof’s intentions, and then came the evil tongues in motion. Would this noble young man marry a beggar girl, that by mercy and kindness had been taken in as a servant at the castle? What did she have to give him in dowry? Not as much as the cloth on her body was her own. The caretaker shook her head and pointed out that now, she understood it all. Sorcery and trickery had been used to capture the young lord.
She had always had her suspicions when the stranger girl had been sitting by the loom and weaved runes to enchant him. But it was as if Mr Olof’s heart was surrounded by an armour, and nothing could hurt or kill his love and he showed himself so firm and affectionate that the young princess fell in love and decided the same as him, whatever the cost, they shall marry.
“But what is your name then, my hearts love?” Mr Olof asked her one day. “It does not matter what you call yourself or if you do not have a name at all.”
The princess started laughing and said, “Here at the estate my name has been only “Her”. But if you want to call me by the same name as my parents and siblings used to call me, then call me Isis.” When she had told him that she looked so firmly into his eyes that he felt strangely at ease.
“That name I never heard before.” He said slowly. “But then there is none like you on this earth.”
Despite all the envy, all the slander and the malice, it so happened that Mr Olof held wedding with the beautiful Isis and it didn’t take lone before she had won everyone over by her generosity and benevolence. And with that, Mrs Britta and the noble family realized just how beautiful the girl really was.
Now, when her husband dressed her in velvet and silk, hung precious pearls around her neck and arms. Broches with gemstones on her chest, now her royal beauty showed all the way. Nobody could walk or dance like her. Nobody greeted everyone with such dignity, and nobody could sit on a horse with such grace when she rode out to hunt by her husbands’ side with the falcon on her gold embroidered glove. On top of that she would never disparage or act out of pride towards anyone, instead she would gladly turn to Mrs Britta for advice about the house and home.
She was loving towards friends, kind to the people and forbearance about past mistakes. Shortly said, she had all the good qualities that those who were born as royalty happily confers and that a none-royal rarely possesses.
“Wouldn’t you think she was born a princess?” Mrs Britta told her friends when she saw the young wife tend to her guests. “No wonder that Mr Olof only wants to dance with his wife,” she beamed, watching her young son dance with his young bride and move with such dignity and grace that everyone’s eyes were upon them.
There were no clouds on the Tyresö sky anymore. Mr Olof was the happiest married man.
His young wife seemed to be happy to, she loved her husband and with joy and eagerness she performed her duties and lady of the manor. The strange thing was that since she married, she started to forget her past. Everything that happened before she came flying to Tyresö became more and more like a faded dream, something that happened to someone else and she rarely thought anything about it.
But sometimes she could feel so heavy hearted, without really knowing why herself. Especially when the moving birds flew away, such an anxiety came over her that she wandered around over the fields. As if she was looking for something she had lost a long, long time ago, and did not really herself know what it was.
One autumns day when Mr Olof was standing by the window, looking at the sky, he exclaimed: “Look! The Swans are leaving!”
She hurried to his side and when she saw the wild swans that flew across the sky, she lifted her arms up high and started crying heavily. Her husband looked at her, shocked, then she tried to smile.
“I do not know why it hurts me so, oh so much pain in my heart when I see the swans flying away.” She said sadly. When the leaves had fallen and the snow came, she felt calm and happy again and was busy with all things to prepare for the winter.
Like this, seven years passed and everything on Tyresö island was the same. Not even a change like new children being born. Mr Olof and his beautiful wife were forever alone with old Mrs Britta. Mr Olof was the one who was most sad about there being no children at the castle. He would have wanted a young son to raise, that when the time came could follow him out hunting or riding. A son that he could think of as his heir. He also would have liked a daughter, a little girl to spoil and that would look like her beautiful mother. But as everyone cannot have everything, it seemed, this joy, he would be denied. Instead he would give all his love to his wife and every year he loved her even more.
Autumn came again and the migratory birds began their long trips. The time of year when the lady of Tyresö always felt such and anxiety and sadness, everyone was used to her not being herself during autumn. She could not sit still by any work but would walk around in the forest for hours and by the cove. She barely spoke and had a very distant look in her eyes, like she was contemplating something that she found no answers to.
One day when Mr Olof was out hunting, she was out walking over the meadows down by the cove. It was the loveliest of autumns days, the leaves were still there on most of the trees and they glowed in all the colours from purple to yellow and green. The cove was still, as if it lay waiting for the first cold night to freeze it over.
She had followed the road down to the meadows, over them and into the forest. She followed a small path that ventured down to the cove. It was a tricky path to the cliffs, and up and down and around it ventured. Where the river runs out in the cove there was a small green field where the grass was cut. When she arrived there, she stopped and put her hands on her forehead. She had been here before! But when? She recognized the cliffs, the curve of the river and the fir forest up the mountain. All this she had seen before, but when and how? When she was standing there, she saw something white that was lying in the grass. What could that be? It was really her feathers, that the old crofter lady had taken to her cabin seven years ago. A beautiful day like this, when no men were at work, she had carried it out to get fresh in the sun.
“What a strange thing,” the crofter lady said to herself whilst spreading it out on the grass.“It has the head and neck of a swan, and the wings and chest. It would seem, that all that was needed was a living body, then it could fly away.”
Now there it lay, like a dead swan on the meadow, and next to it stood the princess that once had carried it. She looked around, her head shadowing the sun, “What could this be?”
She walked closer and then threw herself down next to the feathers! She suddenly remembered it all!
This is where she had landed, and here she had been trapped, and now she was free, free to fly home to the beloved land that she missed so much.
A cheer filled her heart, the blood boiled hot in her veins and something gave her new life and her worries where blown away. And just like that, she had forgotten everything that had happened since she let her feathers fall that day. It was more like a dream as you are waking up in the morning. With shivering hands and a smile on her face she put her swans on. Put her head in between the wings and raised the swan neck, and then, she was flying away over the meadows and the water and you could hear a cry of freedom and happiness.
Higher and higher in the air, Tyresö Castle looked like a toy on the ground under her. She flew over the mountains, following the water as it got wider and opened for the sea. She stretched out her wings more and disappeared over the sea.
In the evening, when Mr Olof came home from the hunt, he wondered where his wife was, she always used to meet him on the steps when he got home. In vain he searched the whole castle, the garden, and the parks.
His grief was very deep, and for weeks, months he waited for her to come home. As time passed, he became calmer. Nobody can cope with grieving all the time without grieving to their death. After a few years he followed his mother’s advice to marry a beautiful noble lady that as time passed on gave him six sons and six daughters and made him happy. But sometimes, especially as fall came and the birds flew off, as he saw the swans fly off, he would sigh and say, “There the swans are off! I wonder where they really belong.”