To obtain the reward of this fratricide, Abel sent his creatures to the assembly of the states, convoked for the election of a new king. As there was only suspicion, he was permitted to purge himself by his own oath, and by the oath of twenty-four nobles, that he was innocent of the deed. How he could find that number of men to take such an oath, may surprise us; but we must remember that the tenor of it was that “to the best of their belief” the accused party was not guilty of the crime. He was therefore elected and crowned by the archbishop. By lavish gifts to the clergy, and to the nobles who adhered to him, and by confirming his brethren (from whom he had the most to fear) in their respective fiefs, he stifled all murmurs. To avert war, too, which he well knew would lead to his ruin, he surrendered to the count of Holstein the domains which his brother had occupied, and to the Teutonic knights most of what he yet held in Livonia. These concessions did no harm to Denmark; and some of his other measures were decidedly good. He restored the wisest parts of the Danish constitution, especially the annual meeting of the states; he improved the laws; and began to redeem the crown lands, which during the late reigns had been pledged. In short, like all usurpers, he sacrificed to popularity, and succeeded so well that he was enabled to raise an extraordinary impost to complete his work of redemption. In the western parts of Sleswic, however, the collectors met with opposition, and Abel, to punish the disobedience, marched with a body of troops. He penetrated into a country always marshy, and now rendered more so by the rains. Surprised by a strong party of the inhabitants, he fled, and fell into a morass, from which the weight of his armour prevented him from emerging. In this helpless situation he was discovered and slain.
The mutilated corpse of Abel was left in the marsh, where it remained for some time, and, if tradition be true, to the great annoyance of the whole country. Abel was too great a sinner to lie peacefully in his grave. He became a wandering spirit. Supernatural voices had so terrified the people that they were glad to deliver the corpse to the canons of Bremen, who honoured it with the rites of sepulture. But they too had soon reason to regret the contiguity of the vampire: he was frequently seen out of his tomb; and at length the corpse was disinterred, and buried in a solitary marsh a few leagues from Gottorp. Still there was no respite; and the inhabitants nearest to the place removed to a distance. To this day the superstition has been perpetuated that the murderer on a dingy horse may sometimes be seen, followed by demon hounds, amidst the echoing of the magic horn. Leaving these wild fancies to vulgar admiration, the Christian will scarcely fail to acknowledge that in the death of Abel there was retribution.