Veflinge and the surrounding district
Veflinge is a pleasant town with a great sense of community and numerous excellent initiatives. It was origi-nally a village, or to give it its technical terminology, a desmenial town. During its history, Veflinge has been called, for example, Wæflinge, Vævlinge, Vævli and Vefflenge Veflinge may have meant a spearhead-like formation in the landscape. The original part of Veflinge lies at the northern end of the town, where the church stood. Thus, the church is the oldest building in the town, dating from the 1200s or thereabouts. In 1911, the railway was built just south of Veflinge. New buildings were subsequently concentrated from here and up towards the old part of Veflinge, making the town longer.
The Great Elk
In 1938, a new drain was to be excavated in some fields to the north of Veflinge. At a depth of approximately 1 metre, the diggers came across a rather large antler. The antler was sent to the Natural History Museum in Copenhagen and suddenly Veflinge became known internationally. It turned out to be the antler of an animal that, up until then, had only been discovered three times in Denmark – namely the antler of an Irish Elk, Megaloceros Giganteus. “Irish” because it is in the marshlands of Ireland that most well-preserved examples of this animal have been found. However, the actual species was widely found much further to the east – during and after the last Ice Age. The span of the antlers on such an animal could be more than 3.5 metres wide and they could weigh up to 40 kg. The elk itself could weigh up to 700 kg. An animal which, in reality, must have been rather majestic.
Today, a carbon-14 analysis of the roots of the antlers tell us the following: On a spring day, around 11,400 years ago, an example of one of the largest elks ever seen went past what would later become known as Veflinge, and it here it “shed” its antlers, as elks do once a year.
North Funens worst sorcerer
In the middle of the 1600s, the notorious sorcerer, or witch, Lars Bøhn Hanh, must have lived in a small house in Veflinge. In the incredible number of stories about him he comes across as neither good nor evil. Lars must have made a pact with his evil self regarding his many supernatural powers. For example, Lars could fill his own butter churn simply by thinking of somewhere else where butter was being churned. Some-times, grain could be heard trickling down in in under Lars’ thatched roof. This happened when a cart rolled through the town gates.
Lars was also adept at curing sickness in animals, as well as humans.
Several times, it went wrong. Once there was to be a meeting of the town assembly. Lars showed up and in-stalled himself in the alderman’s place, even though he had nothing to do with the meeting. Eventually, the alderman became so annoyed at Lars that he called him a scoundrel and threw him out. Shortly afterwards he became ill himself, suffering a bad stomach for six months. It’s a bit difficult to ascertain where Lars ended his days. He was to be burnt at the stake in the year 1664, either at Veflinge, Rugård, Væde or Odense Hed.
From 1780 to 1858, the historian and archaeologist Rasmus Vedel Simonsen lived and worked at his cousin’s farm, Elvedgård. Among other things, he saved Glavendrupstenen from being hacked to the ground for foundation stone (1806) and he was one of the first to divide the past up into a Stone, Copper and Iron Age. Vedel Simonsen carried out a considerable piece of work by collecting and purchasing many pieces of Danish national treasure from the inhabitants of Funen and Southern Jutland. He had several truckloads transported to the National Museum in Copenhagen. He paid for this from his own pocket.
The older brother of the stargazer Tycho Brahe once owned and lived at Elvedgård. Aksel Brahesvej is named after him.
Did you know…
… that the author Jeppe Aakjær once visited his good friend Hans Hansen in Veflinge? Following a fishing trip, on which he had perhaps set his sights too high in terms of his catch, Jeppe is said to have made up this little verse: God stands beside every poor devil, who has to live off fishing, he especially comforts those who in Hans Hansen’s marsh fish, for there are fat toads aplenty, but alas, too few Crucian carps.