A Yacht Voyage to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden Part 11

or some such monotonous burden at every sixth word. The gallant Captain had executed but a small portion of his ditty, when the Holstein farmer rose quickly from his chair, and addressed the songster at the moment when he had reiterated for the second time,

"Trik-a-trik, trik."

"I don't care," replied Captain W----, who knew the Danish language slightly; "it means nothing. My friends here have never heard the air, and that is the reason I sing it."

The Holsteiner still resisted. What could the matter be? The farmer must be, I thought, a married man, and the song an immoral one. The Captain made a second attempt with another song, and the Holsteiner resisted a second time. What could the matter now be? Why, that the farmer was a loyal subject, and a strenuous supporter of monarchy, and that Captain W---- had pitched, at last, upon a revolutionary song, which had been prohibited.

"It is so absurdly radical," said the American Minister, "that it carries with it its own antidote. I am sure there can arise no harm from Captain W---- singing it to our English friends, who are monarchy men sufficiently staunch to disallow any defection from royalty."

"Yes," replied the Baron de B----; "it is not for ourselves my friend from Holstein feels alarmed; but for those who attend upon us, and who, knowing us, may disseminate reports prejudicial to our position. G.o.d knows, my Sovereign has no truer subject than myself."

"Perhaps it is better," admitted the American Minister, "that the song should not be sung, W----. King Christian possesses no heart more loyal than my n.o.ble friend's," and he took the hand of the Baron de B----, who sat close to him, and shook it.

"A stone," exclaimed Captain W----, "thrown into a brook dams it not, but swells the current only to make it run swifter. What will you have?

"Min skaal og din skaal, Alla vackra flickors skaal;"

and chanting these two lines of a Swedish drinking-song, he threw himself back in his chair, and emptied his overflowing gla.s.s. The party now began to get extremely merry; and from claret we turned to port, and, by imperceptible degrees, descended to punch. The smoke of our cigars soon acc.u.mulated in a dense ma.s.s, and, ascending to the ceiling of the room, hung like a canopy of clouds over our heads; and Satan would have envied the hot atmosphere which we now breathed and caroused in. We were all pretty well elated; and as the wine warmed Captain W----'s heart and feelings, he sang the sweetest Swedish song I shall ever hear again. The melodious air, the sweet silvery reiteration of the words, the language with its soft idioms, and the poetical beauty and liveliness of the song itself, were a combination of harmony I could never have antic.i.p.ated. It would be useless endeavouring to embody "the viewless spirit" of those lovely sounds; but as the words were then translated to me, so I write them here:--

"The happy hours, Amid the flowers, Familiar to the Spring's warm breast; When memory burneth, And the soul returneth, Day dreaming, to its own unrest.

I know of looks, to me more sweet and clear, Than Light's glad beam, than heaven's own blue, The Spring's soft breath, the flower's bright hue; None so true, As his I cherish here, Whose image is so dear.

Will he love, and love me duly?

Fairy flowers, tell me truly.

What shall be my lot hereafter?

Shall it end in sighs, or laughter?

Pull them lightly!

Count them rightly!

Yes! No! Yes! No! Yes! No! _Yes!_ Counted rightly."

Captain W---- received much applause, but no more than his song deserved. After awhile, I observed to the American Minister, that we had drunk the health of nearly every one present except the Baron de B----, and with his permission I would suggest that we toasted him. The hint was no sooner given than it was adopted.

The probable separation of Holstein and Schleswig from Denmark, then became the subject of discussion during the remainder of the evening; and, indeed, this was the topic common in the mouths of all men whom we met in Copenhagen.

"It is impossible to foresee the decrees of Time," said the Baron de B----, "and tell what may, or may not befall this country; but all I hope, is, that my present sovereign may live for many long years to come, his life being a guarantee of peace to Denmark, and his death the beginning of disaffection."

"Do you think, Baron," observed Mr. A----, "that the people of Holstein and Schleswig are so much opposed to the rule of Denmark?"

"No," replied the Baron de B----, "I am not at liberty to say _that_ is the general feeling of Holstein and Schleswig; for I am one among a thousand who hold, that the disunion of Holstein and Schleswig from the Parent Kingdom, would be fatal to the well-being of both, but more particularly to Denmark; for I do not doubt, but that when Holstein and Schleswig are lopped off from Denmark, some other State, like Prussia, for instance, will take the duchies under its protection, and join them ultimately to its dominions; but such a result could never happen to Denmark, and she must sink into utter insignificance as a European Power."

"Why, my dear Baron," said the American Minister, "is not care taken that these evils should not occur to Denmark? If you do not mind yourselves, you may rest satisfied no State in Europe will trouble itself about you."

"The fact is this," answered the Baron de B----, "the present ministers have not the moral courage, or mental ability to meet the difficulties of the approaching crisis. When Christian dies, you may say the existing dynasty of Denmark dies too; and I do not think the Duke of Augustenburg will listen to an alteration in the law of succession to these realms, prejudicial to his interest in Holstein, at the coronation of Prince Frederick. If Denmark desires to retain Holstein and Schleswig, she must show her determination now. The same trumpet that announces the decease of Christian, will sound the proclamation of civil contention."

"Will England stand aloof," observed Captain W----, "and see Denmark mutilated? I think not."

"I hope not," said the Baron de B----; "but as years roll on, who can divine the political condition of any country. My Lord," continued the Baron de B----, turning and addressing himself more exclusively to R----, "you have, by hereditary right, a voice in the legislative community of your country, and if ever you should hear that Denmark is threatened with the loss of her dependencies, maintain her in her right; remember the position of England without the aid and protection in the West, however ill given, of Ireland; and, calling to mind the words of myself, an old Holstein n.o.ble, be a.s.sured, that the apathetic indifference of England to the dismemberment of this kingdom, her old ally, will destroy, only for a time, the balance of power in Northern Europe, but will entail on future generations the misery of restoring by the sword, what can now be done with the pen, the independence of the Danish Crown."

"I do not wish, Baron," I said, "to interfere with the opinion you entertain of the intellectual refinement of men, and their inclination to have their quarrels arranged rather by the silent aid of the pen, than the roar of cannon; but of this I am convinced, that, the more enlightened the human race appear to become, the more frequently submission and order seem to be appalled by a total disregard of many social inst.i.tutions. That day is distant indeed, when the legislators of two disaffected countries will sit down and calm their differences by philosophic deliberation."

"I do not quite agree with you," answered the American Minister; "but, I still think, that the irritability of human nature will overcome reason, and so, in anger, men seize the sabre while they throw down the pen; but that is only temporary. 'Ira furor brevis est.'"

"A great deal of mischief may be done in a short time," I replied. "I do not, however, wish your Excellency to take all hope from the Baron de B----, but the separation of Holstein and Schleswig from this country will scarcely be opposed by England, and, if the interference of England should be tendered, the other Powers will hardly permit it to be accepted in quietude. I am no prophet, but however much Europe may boast of her intellectual advancement, and point, as she may, to her sons of mind, the innate love of destruction is so clearly marked on the character of mankind, that, at any, the least provocation, war may trample again on liberty and peace with all the increased malice and horror of the Bonaparte dynasty."

Not many of the company would support me, but thought better of their kind. I am now pleased that I then stood alone; for recent events have shown how, in the midst of the most intellectual era since the world's formation, glittering not only with the fruit of man's mental garden, but beautified by the miracles of his manual skill, the total subversion of conventional and political order is severely menaced; and how doubtful the contest is between the earnest endeavour of one faith to overcome every tenet of another, and the outrages of vulgar audacity to supersede n.o.ble sentiment and refinement of manner.

We did not part until much past midnight, and I shall not forget that last night at Copenhagen for many a long day; and for the time which is to come I shall ever, lingeringly, look back with memory on the glad faces which endear the happiness of that evening.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE EXILE'S SOUVENIR--THE DISAPPOINTED ARTIST --DEPARTURE FROM COPENHAGEN--ARRIVAL AT ELSINEUR --DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN--THE CASTLE OF CRONENBORG --HAMLET'S GARDEN--ESROM LAKE--THE LEGEND OF ESROM MONASTERY--THE FRENCH WAR-STEAMER--SAILING UP THE CATTEGAT.

I rose early on the following morning, and went ash.o.r.e with R----, who desired to purchase some cherry cordial, rum and brandy, since this was the last city of any importance we should visit, before our arrival at Christiania, or Bergen.

The first object which attracted our attention when we returned on board, was a large nosegay, of sweet colour and perfume, in a jar of water, standing in the centre of the cabin table; and a small note directed, to us, lay by its side. When opened, the note read thus:--

"A poor, but proud countryman, begs that you will accept this trifling present, as it is the only one within his means of offering; and, when you are again in England, think sometimes of an outcast."

It had no signature; but the hand-writing was Mr. C----'s. A large boat was seen putting off from the sh.o.r.e, and we hoped that it was Mr.

C----; for R---- was always happy to see him on board his vessel, however much he might have objected to his companions.h.i.+p in the streets.

As the boat approached, we saw that it was not Mr. C----, but our old friend the gentleman in spectacles, who had, unhappily, selected this morning to sketch the yacht; and in ignorance of our intended departure, had evidently hired a good-sized boat for the day, and brought all the necessary appendages of his art. In a few seconds we slipped our moorings, and jib, foresail, and gaff-topsail were hauled out to the wind, and the main tack dropped, sooner than I have written it.

"Vare de skepp go?" I heard the artist exclaim to the boatman; "det blaser hardt--de vind blow hard--moin Gud! vare de skepp go?"

We were soon out of hearing; but we could still see the mute astonishment of the disappointed Swede, as he stood bolt upright, a pencil in one hand, and a large drawing-book in the other.

Like a wild horse, startled, would fly over the plains of Pampas, and hurl with sounding hooves the turf behind him, our little bark darted through the water, and, envious of her freedom, crushed and tossed each resisting wave into foam, and a thousand bubbles. As we hauled closer to the wind, and hugged the tongue of land which forms the most easterly point of the citadel of Fredrikshavn, we discerned, leaning against the flag-staff, poor old C----. He held a handkerchief in his hand, but waved it not; yet it would be raised slowly to his face, and fall heavily to his side again; and, after we had proceeded two miles out to sea, with the aid of a telescope, we could still trace his form resting in the same place and position, and his eyes still turned towards us.

When we drew further from the sh.o.r.e, the wind increased, and the gaff-topsail was unbent, and a reef taken in the mainsail. We were soon a second time anch.o.r.ed off Elsineur; and, as the sun declined from the meridian, the wind almost lulled to a calm. We went ash.o.r.e; and although, on our arrival at the pier-head, the sentinels and police did not speak to us, or demand our pa.s.sports, they walked round and viewed us, as a man would observe the points of a horse before he purchased it.

Elsineur appeared to me a more bustling town than Copenhagen itself; and I suppose that arises from the number of sailors connected with the vessels in the roadstead, who are to be met in the narrow lanes and alleys of the town; and here all the pilots in Denmark mostly wait for s.h.i.+ps bound up the Baltic.

Over the door of every third house, generally swings a sign-board, villainously painted, and exhibiting, in emblematical form to the stranger's eye, the proprietor's name, and the nature of the goods which may be bought of him. The streets are very long and confined; and herds of fishwomen, dogs, and children, get in your way and under your feet. Elsineur is the Wapping of Denmark, or comparable to the worst parts of Portsmouth.

We walked through the town to the Castle of Cronenborg. After wandering over drawbridges, through archways, and dark tunnels, we found ourselves in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by the solitary walls of the seemingly deserted castle. We rang a bell several times, and could just hear its noisy clatter, stealing through narrow, longitudinal slits of windows at the top of an old tower; and, after repeating the summons several times, without waiting, we walked away as we had entered this famous citadel. From the ramparts we enjoyed a magnificent view of the Sound, and the coast of Sweden.

In Hamlet's garden, about a mile from the castle, across a dreary common, the willow-sheltered tomb is still to be seen, where, it is said, sleeps that Spirit "the potent poison quite" o'ercrew. A house stands, tenantless, in the centre of this garden, protected at the back from the north wind by a bank, on which spring here and there flowers and weeds entwined; while its front, turned to the south's warm breath, is enlivened by a few statues, round the pedestals of which creep the vine and honey-suckle. Though the footfall of time is scarcely heard on the soft moss, which oozes in patches from the broad terrace where princes trod, the hand of desolation seemed to be busy here; and as I looked around me, and observed how each relic of antiquity was crumbling into dust, the oblivion of every thing connected with man, except the monuments of his intellect, crawled coldly, like a slug, over my senses, and apart from all visible objects, I felt, and saw with the mind's eye, the immortality of poetry only in the air which I breathed.

Not far from Elsineur is Esrom. Near the Castle of Fredensborg, a boat-house, on Esrom Lake, may be seen by the traveller; and there it was, on this calm summer evening, I lay down upon the gra.s.s, looking on hill, wood, dale, and water. The still air, the unrippled surface of the lake, the tops of the trees, which form the vast and majestic avenues leading to the castle, appearing to melt into the blue sky, were so imposing, that the spirit of melancholy, not unpleasing, descended on me; and leaping from scene to scene, and from one epoch of my life to another, I found myself a boy again, and the heart, like a bended bow, returning to its full length, sprung swifter to the thoughts of home; and I could not help muttering aloud these verses to myself:

"There was a time, and I recall it well, When my whole frame was but an ell in height; Oh! when I think of that, my warm tears swell, And therefore in the mem'ry I delight.

"I sported in my mother's kind embraces, And climb'd my grandsire's venerable knee; Unknown were care, and rage, and sorrow's traces: To me the world was blest as blest could be.

"I mark'd no frowns the world's smooth surface wrinkle, Its mighty s.p.a.ce seemed little to my eye; I saw the stars, like sparks, at distance twinkle, And wished myself a bird to soar so high.