Introduction
Based on local sources, including former editor Carl Hansen at Skive Folkeblad, folklore collector Evald Tank Kristensen has written an article in Skivebogen 1924 about the priest in Estvad -Rønbjerg Parish in the years 1860 – 1864, Niels Peter Gjølbye, who acquired the unflattering nickname “the lazy priest in Estvad”. Why he was given this nickname and how his life was otherwise shaped will be revealed in the following retelling, to which Jeppe Aakjær has also contributed information.
Viborg
Niels Peter Gjølbye was born in Viborg on June 3, 1916 to an apparently well-to-do merchant family. His father was Peter Gjølbye, a merchant, and his mother was Else Elisabeth Blegvad from Mariager. He had a brother who died quite early and a sister who married a lawyer in Viborg. The sister’s marriage to a financially sound lawyer in Viborg is said to have benefited the sometimes financially struggling Niels Peter. At his confirmation, both his knowledge and behavior were rated MG (very good) and with his good academic abilities, he was admitted to Viborg Latin School, from which he graduated in 1834, aged 18. He then moved to Copenhagen to study theology and graduated in 1840 with – according to Jeppe Aakjær – the second best grade, which also included two practical tests, one of which was probably a sermon on a text. The sermons would later prove to cause a lot of problems for the future priest.
Copenhagen
The theological candidate stayed in Copenhagen for six years, apart from one year in Nykøbing Sjælland, where he was head of an institute (cf. Aakjær), but what kind of institute is not known. During his years in Copenhagen, he earned his living as a tutor and private teacher and lived in several places, including Østergade 57 (1845), Østervold 485 and Værnedamsvej (1859). Evald Tang Kristensen (Tang) describes these years as “fateful” and believes that Gjølbye had received financial support from his brother-in-law, the lawyer in Viborg, who was married to Gjølbye’s sister. Tang also believes that this couple had tried to get Gjølbye to apply for the priesthood, as his earnings as a private tutor could not have supported him sufficiently. In this connection, Tang is also surprised that the now mature candidate had not applied for a government position such as assistant professor at a Latin school, where the income had been relatively stable and higher than the position as a private teacher, but in 1859 something happened. Gjølbye applied for the position of priest in Estvad-Rønbjerg Parish, and it was in that application that the Ministry of Culture had recommended him for the position with the second best grade from his bachelor’s degree in 1840, so even though almost six years had passed since graduation, the Ministry of Culture apparently still had confidence in Gjølbye’s ability as a priest. The recommendation was followed, and at the end of 1859 he got the position or, as it was then called, was called to Estvad and Rønbjerg parishes, starting in early 1860. Gjølbye was now 43 years old.
Estvad Vicarage
At the beginning of 1860, Gjølbye moved into the vicarage in Estvad, and he brought his old mother from Viborg, who had apparently been widowed. However, it turned out that the two could not get along, so the mother moved back to Viborg, probably to be supported by her brother-in-law, and the relatively young priest hired one of the local farmer’s daughters, which was not unnatural considering that a young priest needed a wife. In other cases, the parish demanded that the new, often young, priest “take over” the abandoned priest’s widow. However, the young farmer’s daughter literally fled the place when Pastor Gjølbye tried to marry her – probably after consultation with her mother. Considering the subsequent years in the vicarage, a vicar’s wife might have helped Gjølbye to be a little more active and social in his ministry, but as I said, this did not happen.
Knocked off his horse
Before all of Pastor Gjølbye’s signs of laziness are recounted here, it is worth mentioning a small episode that affected his physical mobility and thus also an excuse for his laziness and other inconveniences. Shortly after Gjølbye had settled in the vicarage, he acquired a riding horse to be able to travel the 3-4 km to Rønbjerg Church. One day, however, he had gone for a ride to Flyndersø to look at nature, but had apparently been beaten by the horse, as it had returned to the vicarage without a rider. A search was launched and the poor priest was found bruised and with one leg badly injured in a roadside ditch at Flyndersø Mill. The priest was taken to a doctor and given two months of sick leave, after which he never went anywhere without a cane in one hand and a severe limp. This was also the probable reason why he did not “bother” to move up to the pulpit during the service, but remained standing in the cross door (transition to the choir) during his otherwise very short sermons. However, the parish chairman tried to get Gjølbye to use the pulpit by showing him the way up to the pulpit. He was a very large man and by showing the priest that the chair could accommodate him by jumping a few times on the chair, the parish council chairman hoped that this would persuade the priest, but as I said, in vain.
Late meeting time
A number of complaints were then raised by the parishioners and others about Pastor Gjølbye’s performance, all of which in one way or another can be attributed to his laziness. He found it very difficult to be on time when he had to be in church for scheduled services and other church events. He was usually two to three hours late, and especially in the winter time, they could be a freezing experience for those attending, which included the elderly, mothers with children, etc. When the congregation had been waiting for several hours, it would often happen that the priest’s man would ride in on the priest’s red mare, only to announce that the priest was not coming that day. When people then asked about church services in the parish, it was said that “the priest’s red mare was preaching”, which meant that the priest had not shown up.
Morning coffee in the late afternoon
When the priest was late for services or didn’t show up at all, it could be related to his circadian rhythm, which was somewhat unusual. He got up for morning coffee at 5 o’clock in the late afternoon and had dinner at midnight, so his so-called meeting time, when he as parish priest had to be at the service of his parishioners, was at the time when others went to bed. At night, he would go out and “dabble”, but what he did was unknown. At least he didn’t get to write in the reference books that he had to fill out for the young people in the parish who needed recommendations when they were hired for new jobs such as servants or maids. These books were extremely important for job seekers, but when Gjølbye’s successor took over the vicarage, 120 reference books were found hidden away without the priest having written in them. On the other hand, Gjølbye seems to have kept the church registers to the satisfaction of his superiors, primarily the dean and bishop. There are no immediate complaints about this official conduct.
Tenth
It was the priest’s job to receive tithes from his parishioners, which is why the peasants turned up at the vicarage to pay the statutory tax to the church, but when it was impossible to talk to the priest without having to wait until late at night, some peasants chose to be mortgaged instead. In this way, the authorities themselves could have the inconvenience of obtaining the money or in-kind goods such as grain and other crops as a tithe tax.
Pile burials
When it came to christenings, it was apparently “very difficult” to get an agreement with the priest, because Gjølbye had probably realized that it was not possible to arrive too late at a christening and leave a newborn child waiting for the priest. Therefore, it was difficult to get an appointment with him. Out of sheer laziness, it is also said that he was reluctant to waste time on a single funeral, but preferred to wait until there were three or four bodies in the chapel before he had to get up to officiate at several funerals at a time. On the other hand, he “usually” attended the three feasts of Christmas, Easter and Pentecost, but whether this was on time is not mentioned. During the regular Sunday services, he is said to have failed to attend 18 services in Estvad Church – in a row!
Complaint about communion and confession – attempted bribery
To exemplify some of the above complaints, here are a few specific incidents. One of the parishioners who had co-signed a letter of complaint to the authorities was called Niels Ottosen, and he had sought out the priest to file a complaint directly with the priest this time about communion and confession. It could not be the intention that confession and communion, for example, which were scheduled for 9:00 am, only took place in the afternoon when it was convenient for the priest to get up, so that mothers with small children at home had to stand and wait. When Ottosen arrived at the vicarage that afternoon, the maid greeted him while the priest was asleep, but Ottosen was clever enough not to say what the meeting was about, saying only that he wanted to settle a small debt to the priest. The maid then went to the priest and was told that the priest would come in an hour. Ottosen would have none of it, and the maid went back to the priest. Ottosen had apparently made the above complaint to the maid so strongly that the priest was forced to get up to calm the complainant down. The sleep-deprived priest apologized to Ottosen for the delayed confessions and communions with his weak body and tried to appease the angry Ottosen by offering him both wine and bread, but he did not accept the offer and slammed the door.
Mutiny
For the servants in the vicarage, the very abnormal circadian rhythm and, not least, the resulting night-time restlessness was a source of constant uncertainty and anxiety about their work, so many of the servants chose to run away from their workplace, and as a result they initially lost their credit, which they then tried to claim back from the priest. This was difficult, however, because the priest’s ability to express himself in writing was faultless, and there was no sign of laziness when he had to formulate his defense against the plaintiffs, who were thus rarely successful in their cases. One day, all the servants on the farm had even left the vicarage, and a neighbor had observed that the animals were starving. He went to the priest and asked to let the animals out to pasture so they could get something to eat, but the priest was so angry at being disturbed in his sleep in the middle of the day that he asked the neighbor to leave.
Picked up in bed
As mentioned, Gjølbye had an incredibly hard time showing up on time for regular church services, much to the annoyance of the hard-pressed parishioners, but it also happened at other services such as weddings and funerals. One winter’s day, for example, a double wedding was held in Estvad church, where a couple of farmers’ daughters were to marry two of the area’s farmers’ sons. Pastor Gjølbye had been asked to show up at the agreed time, as there was to be a big party afterwards, and since it was winter time, it couldn’t get too dark before the party started, but the pastor did not show up at the agreed time in the church, even though a messenger had been sent. This prompted one of the guests in the church to offer to fetch the priest, and it wasn’t just anyone, but one of the parish’s well-known and distinctive figures, Jens Dalum. He was big, cross-eyed, bearded and dressed in a calfskin vest that made him somewhat intimidating, and he promised that he would get the priest to come to the church. When Jens entered the vicarage, the priest was still in bed, and when the menacing figure suddenly stood in front of him, he was so frightened that he promised to come immediately, but he had to put on his cassock. Jens didn’t want to wait for that, banged the table and threatened that he wouldn’t leave until he had the priest with him. This time the priest came along! As for the pastor’s speech to the two hopeful couples, it was also very characteristic of his sermons and speeches, namely ultra-short and without much content and here is a quote: “Heh, heh, heh…a happy day that two young couples will be united. They have enough gold and silver…hm…hm…” However, the last part of the quote about gold and silver did not apply to the two couples, as both grooms later went bankrupt with their farms.
Short sermons
When it came to funerals, the priest also spared no words, and as mentioned, he preferred to gather several bodies in the chapel before he would officiate at a funeral. This time, however, it was the mother of Viscount Frederik Pedersen, and the sermon on her mother read: “Today an honorable woman is laid to rest. Amen”. However, the relatives seemed to be satisfied with the priest’s words, because after the funeral, the deceased’s brother came up to Gjølbye and said: “Thank you for the kind words you said about my sister”!
School supervision and exams
One of the priest’s duties was to supervise the parish schools and hold exams to assess the children’s knowledge and behavior. These exams usually took place in early spring, but often you had to wait until the fall before the priest showed up to examine – if he even managed to supervise the school year in question.
Confirmations
In addition to keeping the church books fairly regularly, which he probably did in bed at night, he also seems to have fulfilled his confirmation obligations and had the parish’s prospective confirmands confirmed during the four years he was pastor in Estvad and Rønbjerg. However, there were not many of them. In the years from 1860 to 1864, the number of confirmands each year was 6, 9, 10, 10 and 16 in 1864. In comparison, there were a total of 21 confirmands in the year before the priest was hired. Perhaps some parents chose to have their children confirmed in other parishes, as there are indications that Gjølbye neglected his confirmation classes. One source tells us that the lessons took place in the winter and were scheduled from 10 to 11 o’clock in the morning, but many times the priest did not show up before sunset, while the young people had drifted around the village during the long wait. After three quarters of an hour of teaching, the priest would send the students home in the cold and dark. No wonder people might have gone to neighboring parishes to have their children confirmed.
Threatened dismissal
Jeppe Aakjær has more or less documented many of the above-mentioned examples of Pastor Gjølbye’s official negligence, which Evald Tang Kristensen has recounted here, in a subsequent article entitled “The lazy priest in Estvad”, by, among other things, reproducing the letters of complaint that were sent to Provost Bøtcher in Sevel, the bishop and even the king, but also Pastor Gjølbye’s letters of reply. In the latter, Gjølbye tries to defend his negligence with his fragile health, both physically and mentally. Gjølbye’s letters are well-worded and he also knew his way around the law, which he had to do, because a dismissal before he had been in office for five years would have meant that he would not receive the pension that would have been his livelihood. Dean Bøtcher also seems to be aware of this, because it seems that the dean delayed the dismissal and thus held Gjølbye’s hand until he could receive his pension. Bøtcher must have felt a certain loyalty to Gjølbye, as they had attended Latin school in Viborg together and knew each other.
Final dismissal
The case that ultimately led to Gjølbye’s dismissal concerned a christening in Estvad Church, but it wasn’t just anyone who was having their child baptized, as it was the tenant farmer and his wife at Estvadgård. The baptism had to take place in the afternoon, so there was a chance that the priest could get up in time, and the priest could even be allowed to choose the time. If he didn’t show up on time, the leaseholder threatened to write an article for the magazine “Fædrelandet”, which was one of the most read and influential magazines of the time, about the priest’s many failings. Despite choosing his own time and threats, the priest did not show up at the agreed time, and the tenant immediately wrote a complaint to dean Bøtcher and demanded that the priest be dismissed within eight days. This time the dean did not delay, but turned to Gjølbye and suspended him immediately, but now the five years were almost up. The final dismissal took place on October 7, 1864.
The diagnosis: “Mad”
There was great uncertainty as to whether Gjølbye would be granted a pension. He had barely been in office for five years and his misconduct would be so serious that it could lead to dismissal without pension. For the time being, the dismissed priest lived in the vicarage with his successor in office, Pastor Bülow, and for the time being he also paid Gjølbye’s expected pension. However, there was a hitch in the grant, because despite the neglected duties, Gjølbye was granted an annual pension of DKK 600, but when members of the Danish Parliament became aware of the lazy priest in Estvad and his many derelictions of duty, they wanted the pension withdrawn. This prompted Gjølbye to immediately consult the district doctor, where he received a certificate that he was “mad”, and now the pension of DKK 600 became permanent, which he could be grateful for. After his dismissal, dean Bøtcher, who had known Gjølbye since Latin school, said that he was afraid that the old schoolmate would be late for his own funeral, and that his laziness was perhaps congenital, like his “melancholic big nose”.
Overturned wall
However, it was not so easy to get rid of the dismissed priest in the vicarage, because when his successor Pastor Bülow wanted to talk to Gjølbye about whether he should leave the vicarage soon, he had not gotten up, and when he had gotten up, Bülow had gone to bed. Only when Bülow knocked down the wall of Gjølbye’s bedroom did Gjølbye realize that he had to get away.
In Viborg with his sister
The displaced priest left his office at the ripe old age of 48, but with a fixed annual pension of DKK 600, which by the standards of the time hadn’t been “that bad”, and a certificate stating that he was “mad”. Initially, he moved in with his sister and her lawyer family in Viborg, and reportedly did nothing at all, which he later showed no signs of wanting to do. He probably had enough money. At his sister’s, however, things did not go too well. He bullied the maids and scolded them for not being able to cook. He showed this in the flesh by throwing plates and cups at the frightened girls, many of whom fled the place. On top of that, he also gorged himself on food by, for example, spreading bread with a double layer of butter. His stay with his sister was short-lived, but whether he had been asked to leave or had chosen to leave the sister family himself is unknown, but his next home in Viborg was in Gravene, where he had rented a relatively comfortable apartment.
Gravene
In this apartment, he did not hire a young girl in the house, but had hired a wife who was supposed to wait on him, run errands and take evening baths for him. She arrived in the morning, had the afternoon off, and then arrived in the evening, where she prepared dinner for the still sleeping pastor emeritus. This wife would sit and wait for Gjølbye to eat his dinner around midnight. Gjølbye really appreciated pork and potatoes, but once he had been waiting for five to six hours, the pork had shrunk and the food was cold, and the cook’s wife was blamed for eating the pork. One can well understand the wives who only lasted 14-30 days as employees of the choleric and lazy priest. The above and future information about Gjølbye’s afterlife in Viborg comes from Gjølbye’s then advisor and visiting friend Vilhelm Christensen, and this Vilhelm tells us more about his time in Viborg.
Smoking in the toilet
Gjølbye had an arsenal of foam pipes, and when Vilhelm visited in the evening, the two would sit and steam on pipes, and occasionally have an elixir of life with a splash of cognac. Gjølbye kept three newspapers, he kept his money in a leather pouch under his pillow, and Vilhelm collected his pension for him downtown. The apartment had a retirement room next to the kitchen, and here Gjølbye could sit steaming on a pipe for up to half an hour, doing his business.
Landlord evicted
Above Gjølbye’s apartment lived some young girls, and when they were occasionally visited by some young men, the dancing went merrily, much to the annoyance of Gjølbye, who now wanted to find a new apartment. When Gjølbye’s landlord, shoemaker Hammershøj, heard about it, he was so upset that he sought out Gjølbye for an explanation. This meeting ended in a verbal altercation with mutual accusations of breaking agreements, etc. and eventually the cobbler was evicted. The case ended up in court, but no settlement was reached. Gjølbye got himself a new four-room apartment in Mathiasgade.
Pastor Gjølbye’s death in Mathiasgade
In his large apartment in Mathiasgade, Gjølbye apparently lived his quiet and introverted life until one morning, when a certain Mrs. Jespersen, who lived on the same floor as Gjølbye, stood anxiously outside Gjølbye’s door when his visiting friend, Vilhelm Christensen, met her. She told him that she had heard two bumps in the night from Gjølbye’s bedroom, which was right next to her apartment. She had therefore gone to the priest and found him on his back wearing a robe and a white nightcap, while he made gurgling sounds. She tried to touch his arm and open his eyes, but there was virtually no reaction. She then got hold of an acquaintance and together they called the district doctor, who determined that Gjølbye had suffered an “apoleptic seizure”, meaning that his heart had stopped beating, and before the doctor could do anything, Gjølbye was dead. It should be said that Vilhelm Christensen had spent the previous evening at Gjølbye’s house and had not left until late at midnight, but had not noticed anything suspicious about his behavior.
The lazy priest’s legacy
Gjølbye left behind a nice legacy. In addition to what he left from his pension, he had two plots of land just outside two of Viborg’s city gates, which were sold at a value of DKK 14-1500. The entire inheritance went to his sister, who only died at the age of 87. Gjølbye was only 69 years old when he died in 1885, and you can’t say that it was because he was worn out. The funeral took place on September 29, 1885 and only with “a very small cortege”. However, it must be assumed that the sister entitled to inherit and her family, as well as the visiting friend Vilhelm Christensen, had attended.