Forget the cheerful fellow with the presents. The original Swedish tomte had a job to do, a farm to run, and very little patience for fools.

If you have ever wondered why Swedes leave a bowl of porridge out for Father Christmas, the answer is that it wasn’t originally intended for him at all. It was for a rather different character, one who had no interest in delivering presents, entertaining children or squeezing himself down chimneys.

Meet the gårdstomte, the traditional Swedish farm spirit.

He was a small, elderly fellow, usually dressed in plain working clothes and a red or grey cap. He might have a beard, although this was by no means compulsory. Most of the time he remained invisible, which was probably just as well, considering his temperament.

The tomte lived on the farm, often in the stable or barn, and took his responsibilities very seriously. He looked after the animals, helped with the work and generally made sure that everything ran as it should. A farmer fortunate enough to have a conscientious tomte could prosper rather nicely.

There was, however, a catch.

The tomte expected everyone else to be equally conscientious. Neglect the livestock, mistreat a horse or disturb him while he was working, and you might find yourself on the receiving end of a thoroughly unpleasant lesson.

He was particularly fond of his animals, and anyone foolish enough to mistreat one risked a hefty slap. He also disliked unnecessary changes, modern inventions and people who interfered with his routines.

In short, he was the sort of employee who would have been invaluable on a farm and an absolute nightmare in a modern office.

A Question of Porridge

For all his hard work, the tomte expected remarkably little in return. A bowl of porridge, preferably with a generous knob of butter, was generally sufficient to keep relations cordial.

But you had better get it right.

One traditional tale concerns a farmer who left the tomte his customary Christmas porridge. Unfortunately, the butter had sunk to the bottom of the bowl.

The tomte, seeing no butter on top, concluded that he had been insulted. In a fit of rage, he killed one of the farmer’s cows.

Only after finishing his porridge did he discover the butter at the bottom.

Stricken with remorse, he went to a neighbouring farm, fetched a replacement cow and brought it home.

There are several versions of this story, but the lesson is much the same. Never underestimate the importance of presentation when dealing with a temperamental supernatural being.

Personally, I think a strongly worded complaint would have been more appropriate, but apparently that wasn’t his style.

An Unfortunate Gift

You might imagine that a creature who worked so hard would appreciate a decent set of new clothes.

Not necessarily.

According to another traditional tale, a farmer rewarded his tomte with a fine new outfit. The little fellow was so delighted with his appearance that he decided he was far too grand to continue working.

And promptly left.

This must have been particularly irritating for the farmer, who had presumably intended the gift as an incentive rather than a redundancy package.

It also tells us something about the tomte’s peculiar relationship with his employers. He wasn’t a servant, exactly, and certainly wasn’t a pet. He belonged to the farm, but he operated entirely on his own terms.

You could appreciate him, feed him and occasionally reward him. You could not, however, manage him.

From Farmhand to Father Christmas

So how did this touchy little agricultural supervisor become the cheerful, red-clad fellow who delivers presents on Christmas Eve?

The transformation took place gradually, particularly during the nineteenth century, when Swedish Christmas traditions began absorbing influences from elsewhere in Europe.

The modern Swedish jultomte borrowed elements from the old farm spirit, but also from Saint Nicholas and other Christmas gift-giving traditions. The illustrations of Jenny Nyström helped establish the familiar image of the Swedish Christmas tomte.

Somewhere along the way, the little fellow acquired a much more agreeable personality, a considerable wardrobe upgrade and an entirely new occupation.

He also developed an extraordinary tolerance for children, something his predecessor might have found rather trying.

The porridge, however, survived.

Even today, many Swedes associate Christmas Eve with leaving a bowl of rice porridge for the tomte. It is one of those traditions that has outlived much of the belief that originally gave rise to it.

And perhaps that is just as well.

After all, the modern Father Christmas might be disappointed if you forget his porridge.

His predecessor might have killed your cow.