An Estonian walks along a field, the westering sun behind him, and he sees in front of him a lengthening shadow. He’s limping a bit, and ahead of him, a shadowy form lumbers, taking a shape of its own, and an ancient magic stirs.
The sun sets and Vanapagan – the old pagan – vanishes into the earth and pine trees, leaving wonder in his wake. I am that Estonian walking along, far from the homeland, and for a moment feel connected to the Estonians of old.
In some tales Vanapagan is lord of the underworld, where he is known also as evil spirit, old horn or old ghost. In others, he is a clumsy ogre, a farmer who starts things and does not finish them, a gatherer of large stones, and sometimes throwing them about, a habit of other Estonian giants of old.
Cover of AH Tammsaare's 1970 book "From the bottom of hell, a new old pagan"
Alternatively, Vanapagan embodied the forces of nature at a time before humans, forming hills and lakes. We cycled to Paganamaa – the pagan land - in the very south of Estonia where traces of his thrashing about remain, as strange grooves in the landscape.
One story relates how Vanapagan amassed stones to make a bridge which then disappeared under the rising waters of the Pikkajärv (long lake). In one version, he drowned there; in another, he escaped.
It is said he lives in Vokiniit cave beside the Võhandu river, some distance east of Otepää in southern Estonia, whether alone or as a leader of old pagans.
Other folklore has Vanapagan’s dwelling places located generally in natural and unspoiled valley forms or caves, or in forests and boglands.
A writer and teacher of the late 1800s, August Kitzberg suggested a historical background to the Vanapagan traditions:
“I think the old pagans were old Estonians who did not accept Christianity and fled into hiding. They may have adopted strange practices to be left alone by others. Poetry and superstition did the rest by way of creating a tradition” (my paraphrasing of Wikipedia).
In one story, a rehepapp or steward of harvested grain noticed the farm’s store of potatoes was disappearing. One night he kept vigil and spotted Vanapagan choosing the best for himself, and leaving the rest. The following night the rehepapp held out several crosses in front of him, and Vanapagan vanished. No more stored vegetables disappeared after that.
In another, Vanapagan and his followers would dance all through the shortest night of the year, St John’s Night, atop a large stone in the Uhtjärv, a lake to the south of Otepää. At sunrise the demons vanish.
One folktale has Vanapagan stealing a musical instrument belonging to Pikne, the god of lightning, another trope from northern European mythology. A further trope is Vanapagan’s pathological fear of wolves.
Vanapagan is the ogre character in children’s stories popularised by Matthias Johann Eisen, in which he is outwitted by his servant, Kaval Ants (Crafty Hans).
I asked an Estonian friend who lives in Australia about the old pagan:
“Vanapagan is a rather stupid creature who can be duped,” he says. “Back in Germany as a kid [during and after WWII], I watched a play about Vanapagan. He was in the underworld, and he had a problem. He was complaining that hell was no longer frightening people.
“He said, ‘Our place is getting full. We have souls stuck like flags on the barn roof and we are running out of room’. He tells his acolytes to go up into the world and find out what would frighten people.
“He also absolutely forbids the acolytes to reveal the way into the underworld. ‘We will be flooded,’ he says.
“I am not sure how the story ended, but I have a vague feeling life in hell was pretty good compared with life on top.”
Deep within the cultural consciousness of Estonians is Vanapagan who has survived many cycles of invasion and conquest over the centuries, and whose ongoing battle with Pikne continues. After all, when the thunderstorm has passed, the sun returns to shine on the land.
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