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 GODFATHER could tell stories ever so many and ever so long he could cut out paper figures and draw picturesand when it came near Christmas he would bringout a copybook with clean white pages on this he pastedpictures taken out of books and newspapers if he had notenough for the story he wished to tell he drew them himself WhenI was little Igot several such picturebooksbut the loveliest of them all was the one from "the memorable year when Copenhagen got gas in place of the old oillamps" and that was setdown on the first page

"Great care must be taken of this book" said Fatherand Mother"it must only be brought out on grand occasions"

Yet Godfather had written on the cover

Though the book be torn it is hardly a crime

Other young friends have done worse in their time

Most delightful it was when Godfather himself showedthe book read the verses and the other inscriptions andtold so many things besides then the story became a realstory

On the first page there was a picture cut out of "TheFlying Post" in which one saw Copenhagen with its RoundTower and Our Lady's Church to the left of this waspasted an old lantern on which was written"Trainoil" tothe right was a chandelieron it was written "Gas""Seethat is the placard" said Godfather"that is the prologueto the story you are going to hear It could also be given asa whole plny if one could have acted it' Trainoil andGas or the Life and Doings of Copenhagen' That is avery good title At the foot of the page there is still anotherlittle picture it is not so easy to understand soI shall explain it That is a DeathhorseHe ought to have come only at the end of the book but he has run on ahead to saythat neither the beginning the middle northe end is anygood he could have done it better himselfif he could have done it at all The Deathhorse I must tell you stands during the day tethered to the newspaperbut in the evening he slips out and posts himself outside the po et's door and neighs so that the man inside may die in stantly but he does not die if there is any real life inhim The Death-horse is nearly always a poor creature who cannot understand himself and cannot get a liveli hood he must get air and food by going about and neighing Iam convinced that he thinks nothing of Godfather's picturebook but for all that it may well be worth the pa per it is written on

"Now that is the first page of the book that is the placard

" It was just the last evening on which the old oil lamps were lightedthe town had got gas and it shone so that theold lamps seemed to be quite lost in it

" Iwas in the street myself that evening" said God father"The people walked up and down to look at the old and the new lighting There were many peopleand twice as many legs as heads The watchmen stood about gloomily they did not know when they might be dis missed like the lamps these themselves thought so farbackthey dared not think forward They remembered so much from the quiet evenings and the dark nights I leaned up against a lamp-post"said Godfather"there was a sputtering in the oil and the wick I could hear what the lamp said and you shall also hear it

"' We have done what we could' said the lamp ' we have been sufficient for our timehave lighted up for joy and for sorrowwe have lived through many remarkable things we have so to speak been the nighteyes ofCopenhagen Let new lights now take our place and un dertake our office but how many years they may shine and what they may light up remains to be seenThey certainly shine a little stronger than we old ones but that is nothing when one is made like a gaschandelier and has such connexions as they have the one pours into the other They have pipes in all directions and can get new strength in the town and outside of the town But each one of us oillamps shines by what he has in himself and not by family relationship We and our forefathers haveshone for Copenhagen from immeasurably ancient times far far back But as this is now the last evening that we stand and shine in the second rank so to speak here in the street along with you ye shining comrades we will notsulk and be envious nofar from it we will be glad andgoodnatured We are the old sentinels who are relieved by new-fashioned guards in better uniforms than oursWe will tell you what our family right up to the greatgreatgreat-grandmother lantern has seen and experiencedthe whole of Copenhagen's history May you and your successorsright down to the last gaschandelier experience and be able to tell as remarkable things as we when one day you get your discharge And you will get it you may beprepared for that Men are sure to find a stronger light thangas Ihave heard a student say that it is hinted that they will yet burn seawater'The wick sputtered when the lamp said these words just as if it had water in it already"

Godfather listened closelythought it over and con- sidered that it was an excellent idea of the old lantem on this evening of transition from oil to gas to recount and display the whole of the history of Copenhagen "A good idea must not be let slip "said Godfather"I seized it di-rectlywent home and made this picture-book for you it goes still farther back in time than the lamps could go

"Here isthe bookhere is the history

'openhagen' ife and oing'

it begins with pitchdarkness a coalblack page

that is the Dark Ages

"Now we shall turn the page" said Godfather"Do you see the pictures Only the wild sea and the blustering northeast windit is driving heavy icefloes alongthereis no one out to sail onthem except great stoneblocks which rolled down on to the ice from the mountains of Nor way The north wind blows the ice away he means to show the German mountains what boulders are foundup inthe north The icefleet is already down in the Sound off the coast of Zealand where Copenhagen now liesbut there was no Copenhagen at that time There were great sand-banks under the wateragainst one of these the icefloeswith the big boulders struck the whole of the icefleetstuck fast the northeast wind could not float themagain and so he grew as mad as he could be and pronounced a curse upon the sand-bank'the thieves'

ground' as he called itand he swore that if it ever lifted itself above the surface of the sea thieves and robbersshould come there gallows and wheel should be raised on it

"But whilst he cursed and swore in this manner thesun broke forth and in its beams there swayed and swungbright gentle spirits children of light they dancedalong over the chilling icefloes and melted them andthe great boulders sank down to the sandy bottom

"' Sunvermin'said the north wind 'is that comradeship and kinshipI shall remember and revenge that Now I pronounce a curse'

"' We pronounce a blessing'sang the children oflight'The sand-bank shall rise and we will protect itTruth and goodness and beauty shall dwell there'

"' Stuff and nonsense' said the northeast wind

"Of all this the lantern had nothing to tell" saidGodfather"but I knew it and it is of great importancefor the life and doings of Copenhagen

"Now we shall turn the page" said Godfather

"Years have passed the sandbank has lifted itself aseabird has settled on the biggest stonewhich jutted outof the water You can see it in the picture Years andyears have passed The sea threw up dead fish on the sand The tough lyme-grass sprang up witheredrottedand enriched the ground then came several different kinds of grasses and plants the bank became a green island The Vikings landed there There was level groundfor fighting and good anchorage beside the island off thecoast of Zealand

"The first oillamp was kindledI believe to cookfish over and there were fish in plenty The herringsswam in great shoals through the Soundit was hard topush aboat through themthey flashed in the water as ifthere was lightning down there they shone in the depthslike the Northern LightsThe Sound had wealth of fishand so houses were builton thecoast of Zealandthe wallswere of oak and the roofs of bark there were trees enoughforthe purposeShips came into the harbour the oil lantern hung from the swaying ropes the northeast windblew and sang'Uhuu'If a lantern shone on the island it was a thieves lantern Smugglers and thieves exercised their trade on' Thieves' Island

"' Ibelieve that all the evil thatI wished will grow'said the northeast wind' Soon will come the treeofwhich I can shake the fruit'

"And here stands the tree" said Godfather"Do yousee the gallows on Thieves'Island Robbers and murderershang there in iron chainsexactly as they hung at that time The wind blew so that the long skeletons rattled butthe moon shone down on them very serenely as it nowshines on a rustic danceThe sun also shone down serenely crumbling away the dangling skeletons and from thesunbeams the children of light sang'We know it Weknow itIt shall yet be beautiful here in the time to comeHere it will be good and splendid'"

"'Cackle Cackle' said the north-east wind

"Now we turn over the page" said Codfather

"The bells were ringing in the town of Roskilde where Bishop Absalon lived he could both readhis Bible and swing his sword he had power and will thebusy fishermen at the harbour whose town was growingand was now a marketplace Absalon wished to protect these from assaultHe sprinkled the unhallowed ground with holy waterThieves'Island got a mark of honour Masonsand carpen-ters set to work on it a building grew up at the Bishop'scommand The sunbeams kissed the red walls as they roseThere stood Axel's house

The castle with its towers high in air Its balconies and many a noble stair


The northeast wind in fury blew But the stronghold stood unyielding all the sameAnd outsids it stood'The Haven' the merchants'har bour

Mermaid's bower'mid gleaming lakes Built in groves of green.  "The foreigners came there and bought the wealth of fish built booths and houses with bladders for window-panesglass was too dear then came warehouses with gables and windlasses look inside the shops sit the oldbachelorsthey dare not marrythey trade in ginger andpepperthe pepperlads

"The north-east wind blows through the streets andlanes sends the dust flying and tears a thatched roofoff Cows and pigs walk about in the street-ditch

"'Ishall cow and subdue them' says the north-eastwind'whistle round the houses and round Axel's houseI cannot miss it They call it" Gallows'Castle onThieves' Island"'"

And Godfather showed a picture of it which hehimself had drawn On the walls were stake after stakeand on every one sat the head of a captured pirateand showed the teeth

"That really happened" said Godfather"and it isworth knowing about"

"Bishop Absalon was in his bathroom and heard through the thin walls the arrival of a ship of freebootersAt once he sprang out of the bath and into his ship blewhis horn and his crew came The arrows flew into the backs of the robbers who rowed hard to get away The arrows fastened themselves in their hands and there wasno time to tear them out Bishop Absalon caught every living soul and cut his head off and every head was set up on the outer wall of the castle The northeast windblew with swollen cheekswith bad weather in his jaw as the sailors say

"'Here I will stretch myself out' said the wind' hereI will lie down and look at the whole affair'

"It rested for houre it blew for days years wentpast

"The watchman came out on the castle tower he looked to the eastto the west to the south and thenorth There you have it in the picture" said Godfather and showed it"You see him there but what he saw Ishall tell you

"From Steileborg's wall there is open water right out to Kge Bay and broad is the channel over to Zealand'scoast In front of Serritslev and Solberg commonswhere the large villages lie grows up more and more the newtown with gabled timber houses There are whole streets for shoemakers and tailors for grocers and alesellers there isa marketplace there is a guildhall and close by the shorewhere once there was an island stands the splendidChurch of St NicholasIt has a tower and a spire immensely high how it reflects itselfin the clear water Notfar from this stands the Church of Our Lady where masses are said and sung incense gives out its odour and waxtapers burnThe merchants' haven is now the Bishop' s townthe Bishop of Roskilde rules and reigns there

"Bishop Erlandsen sits in Axel's house There is cooking in the Kitchen there is serving of ale and claretthere is the sound of fiddles and kettledrums Candles and lamps burn the castle shines as if it were a lantern forthe whole country and kingdom The northeast wind blows round the tower and walls but they stand firm enough

The north-east wind blows round the western fortifications of the townonly an old wooden barricade but it holds out well Outside of itstands Christopher the First the King of DenmarkThe rebels have beaten him at Skelskr

he seeks shelter in the Bishop's town

"The wind whistles and says like the Bishop'Keep outside keep outside The gate is shut for thee'

"It is a time of troublethese are dismal days everyman will have his own wayThe Holstein banner waves from the castle tower There is want and woe it is thenight of anguish Strife is in the land andthe Black Death pitchdark nightbut then came Waldemar

The Bishop's town is now the King's townit hasgabled houses and narrow streets it has watchmen and atownhallit has a fixed gallows by the westport Nonebut townsmen can be hanged on itone must be a citizento be able to dangle there to come up so high as to seeKge and the hens of Kge.  "'That is a lovely gallows'says the northeastwind'The beautiful grows' and so it whistled and blew From Germany blew trouble and want

"The Hansa merchants came"said Godfather

"they came from warehouse and counter the rich tradersfrom Rostock Lübeck and Bremen they wanted tosnatchup more than the golden goose from Waldemar's Towerthey had more power in the town of the DanishKing than the Danish King himself they came with armedships and no one was preparedKing Eric had no mind either to fight with his German kinsfolk they were somany and so strongSo King Eric and all his courtiershurried out at the westport to the town of Sor to thequiet lake and the green woods to the song of love andthe goblet's clang

"But one remained behind in Copenhagena kingly heart a kingly mindDo you see the picture here theyoung woman so fine and tender with seablue eyes andflaxen hairit is Denmark's QueenPhilippathe Eng-lish PrincessShe stayed in the distracted citywhere inthe narrow lanes and streets with the steep stairs shedsand lathandplaster shops townspeople swarmed andknew not what to do She has the heart and courage of amanShe summons burghers and peasants inspires and encourages them They rig the ships and garrison the block housesthey bang away with the carbinesthere isfire and smoke there is lightness of heart our Lord willnot give up Denmark And the sun shines into all heartsit beams out of all eyes in the gladness of victoryBlessedbe Philippa And blessed she is in the hut and in thehouse and in the castle of the King where she looks after the wounded and the sick Ihave cut a wreath and putit round the picture here said Codfather"Blessed beQueen Philippa"

"Now we spring years forward" saia Godfather"andCopenhagen springs with us King Christian the First hasbeen in Romehas been blessed by the Pope and greetedwith honour and homage on the longjourneyHe is build- ing here a hall of red brick learning shall grow there anddisplay itself in LatinThe poor man's children from theplough or workshop come there too can live upon alms can attain to the long black gown sing before thecitizens'doors

"Close to the hall of learning where all is in Latinlies a little house in it Danish rulesboth in language andin customs Thereis aleporridge for breakfastand dinneris at ten o'clock in the forenoonThe sun shines in through the small panes on cupboards and bookcasesinthe latter lie written treasures Master Mikkel's 'Rosary'and'Godly Comedies' Henrik Harpestreng's'Leech book'and Denmark's'Rhyming Chronicle'by Brother Niels of Sor' Every man of breeding ought to knowthese'says the master of the house and he is the man tomake them known He isDenmark's first printer the DutchmanGotfred van GehmenHe practises the blessed black art of bookprinting

"And books come into the King's castle and into thehouses of the burgher Proverbs and songs get eternal lifeThings which men dare not say in sorrow and pleasure aresung by the Bird of Popular Songdarkly and yet clearly

it flies so free it flies so widethrough the common sittingroom through the knightly castle it sits like a falconon the hand of the noble lady and twitters it steals in likea little mouseand squeaks in the dungeon to the enslaved peasant

"' It is all mere words' says the sharp northeastwind

"'It is spring-time' say the sunbeams'See howthegreen buds are peeping'

"Now we will go forward in our picturebook"said Godrather

"How Copenhagen glittersThere are tournaments and sportsthere are splendid processions look at the gallantknights in armour at the noble ladies in silk and goldking Hans is giving his daughter Elizabeth to the Electorof Brandenburghow young she is and how happy shetreads on velvetthere is a future in her thoughts a lifeof household happinessClose beside her stands her royalbrother Prince Christian with the melancholy eyes andthe hot surging blood He is dear to the townsfolk heknows their burdenshe has the poor man's future in histhoughts'God alone decides our fortunes'

"Now we will go on with the picturebook" saidGodfather"Sharp blows the wind and sings about the sharp sword about the heavy time of unrest'

"It is an icycold day in the middle of AprilWhyis the crowd thronging outside the castleand in front ofthe old tollbooth where the king's ship lies with its sailsand flags There are people in the windows and on the roofs There is sorrow and affliction expectancy andanxiety They look towards the castle where formerly there were torch-dances in the gilded halls now so stilland emptythey look at the windowbalconyfrom whichKing Christian so often looked out over the drawbridge and along the narrow street to his Dovelet the littleDutch girl he brought from the town of BergenThe shut-ters are closed the crowd looks towards the castle nowthe gate is opening the drawbridge is being let down

king Christian comes with his faithful wife Elizabethshewill not forsake her royal lord now when he is so hardbeset

"There was fire in his blood there was fire in histhoughts he wished to break with the olden times tobreak the peasants' yoke to be good to the burghers tocut the wings of 'the greedy hawks' but they were toomany for himHe departs from his country and kingdomto win friends and kinsfolk for himself abroad His wifeand faithful men go with himevery eye is wet now in thehour of parting

"Voices blend themselves in the song of time against him and for hima threefold choir Hear the words of the nobles they are written and printed

"'Woe to thee Christian the Bad The blood pouredout on Stockholm's marketplace cries aloud and cursesthee'

"And the monk's shout utters the same sentence

"'Be thou cast off by God and by us Thou hast called hither the Lutheran doctrinethou hast given itchurch and pulpitand let the tongue of the Devil speakWoe to thee Christian the Bad'

"But peasants and burghers weep so bitterly'Christian beloved of the peopleNo longer shall the peasant besold like cattle no longer be bartered away for a houndThat law is thy witness'

"But the words of the poor man are like chaff beforethe wind

"Now the ship sails past the castle and the burghersrun upon the ramparts so that they may once more see theroyal galley sail

"'The time is longthe time is hard trust not infriends or kinsmen'

"Uncle Frederick in the Castle of Kiel would like tobe king of Denmark king Frederick lies before Copen-hagen do you see the picture here 'the faithful Copenhagen' Round about it are coalblack cloudswith pictureon picture only look at each of them It is a resoundingpictureit still resounds in song and story the heavyhard and bitter time inthe course oftheyears

"How went it with King Christian that wandering bird The birds have sung about it and they fly far overland and sea The stork came early in the spring from thesouth over the German lands it has seen what will now betold

"'Isaw the fugitive king Christian driving on a heathergrown moor there met him a wretched cardrawnby one horsein it sat a womanKing Christian's sisterthe Margravine of Brandenburgfaithful to the Lutheran religionshe had been driven away by her husbandOn thedark heath met the exiled children of a kingThe time ishardthe time is long trust not in friend or in kin'

"The swallow came from Snderborg Castle with a doleful song'King Christian is betrayedHe sits here inthe dungeontower deep as a wellhis heavy steps wear tracks in the stone floor his fingers leave their marks inthe hard marble'

What sorrow ever found such vent As in that furrowed stone

"The fisheagle came from the rolling sea it is openand free a ship flies over it it is the brave Sren Norbyfrom FynFortune is with him but fortune is changefullike wind and weather

"In Jutland and Fyn the ravens and crows scream' We are out for spoilIt is grandit is grand Here liebodies of horses and of men as well' It is a time oftrouble it is the Count of Oldenburg's warThe peasantseized his club and the townsman his knife and shouted loudly'We shall kill the wolves and leave no cub of them alive' Clouds of smoke rise from the burning towns

"King Christian is a prisoner in Snderborg Castlehe cannot escape or see Copenhagen and its bitter dis-tress On the North Common stands Christian Ⅲ, wherehis father stood beforeIn the town is despairfamine isthere and plague

"Up against the church wall sits an emaciated woman in rags she is a corpse two living children lie on herlap and suck blood from the dead breast

"Courage has fallen resistance falls Oh thou faithful Copenhagen

"Fanfares are blown Listentothe drums and trum- petsIn rich dresses of silk and velvetand with wavingplumescome the noble lords on gold-caparisoned horsesthey ride to the old market Is there a joust or tournamentafter the usual custom Burghers and peasants intheir best array are flocking thitherWhat is there to seeHasa bonfire been made to burn popish imagesor does the hangman stand there as he stood at Slaghoek's deathfireThe kingthe ruler of the landis Lutheranand thisshall now be solemnly proclaimed

"High and mighty ladies and noble maidens sit with high collars and pearls in their caps behind the open windowsand see all the showOn an outspread carpetundera canopy sit the councillors of state in antique dress nearthe King's throneThe king is silentNow his will is proclaimed in the Danish tonguethe will of the statecouncilBurghers and peasants receive words of stern rebuke for theopposition they have shown to the high nobilityThe burgher is humbled the peasant becomes a thrall Nowwords of condemnation are uttered against the bishops of the land Their power is pastAll the property of thechurch and cloisters is transferred to the King and the nobles

"Haughtiness and hate are there pomp and misery

"The time of change has heavy cloudsbut also sun-shineit shone now in the hall of learning in the student's homeand names shine out from it right on to our timeHans Tausen the son of a poor smith in Fyn

It was the little lad from Birkendè who came His name flew over Denmark so widely spread his fame

A Danish Martin Lutherwho drew the Gospel sword And gained a victory for truth and for the Word

"There also shines the name of Petrus Palladius soit is in Latin but in Danish it is Peter Plade the Bishop of Roskilde also the son of a poor smith in JutlandAmong the names of noblemen shines that of Hans Friisthe Chancellor of the kingdom He seated the students athis table and looked after their wants and those of theschoolboys too And one name before all others is greeted with hurrahs and song

While but a single student here At learning's desk is seated So long shall good King Christian's name With loud Hurrahs be greeted

"Sunbeams came amongst the heavy clouds in thattime of change

"Now we turn the page

"What whistles and sings in'The Great Belt'underthe coast of SamsFrom the sea rises a mermaidwithseagreen hairshe tells the future to the peasantAprince shall be bornwho will become a kinggreat andpowerful

"In the fieldsunder the blossoming white-thornhewas bornHis name now blooms in song and storyin theknightly halls and castles round aboutThe exchangesprang up with tower and spireRosenborg lifted itselfand looked far out over the rampartsthe students themselves got a house of their ownand close beside it stoodand still points to Heaven the'Round Tower'whichlooks toward the island of Hveen where Uranienborg oncestoodIts golden domes glittered in the moonlightandmermaids sang of the master there whom kings and sagesvisitedthe sage of noble bloodTycho BraheHe raisedthe name of Denmark so highthat along with the stars ofheaven it was known in all the cultured lands of theworldAnd Denmark spurned him away from her

"He sang for comfort in his grief

'Is not Heaven everywhere

What more then do I require'

"His song lives in the hearts of the peoplelike themermaid's song about Christian the Fourth

"Now comes a page which you must look at in earnest"said Godfather"There is picture after pictureas there is verse after verse in the old balladsIt is asongso joyful in its beginningso sorrowful in itsending

"A king's child dances in the castle of the Kinghowcharming she is to seeShe sits on the lap of Christian theFourthhis beloved daughter EleonoraShe grows in womanly virtues and gracesThe foremost man amongst the noblesCorfitz Ulfeldtis her bridegroomShe is still achildand still gets whippings from her stern governessshe complains to her sweetheartand with good right tooHow clever she isand cultured and learnedshe knowsLatin and Greeksings Italian to her luteand is able totalk about the Pope and Luther

"King Christian lies in the chapel-vault in RoskildeCathedraland Eleonora's brother is KingThere is pompand show in the palace in Copenhagenthere is beauty andwitforemost is the Queen herselfSophia Amalia ofLyneborgWho can guide her horse so well as sheWhodances with such dignity as sheWho talks with suchknowledge and cleverness as Denmark's Queen'EleonoraChristina Ulfeldt'these words were spoken by theFrench Ambassador'in beauty and cleverness she surpasses all'

"From the polished dancingfloor of the palace grewthe burdock of envyit hung fastit worked itself in andtwisted around itselfthe scorn of contempt'The baseborncreatureHer carriage shall stop at the castlebridgewhere the Queen drivesthe lady must walk'There is aperfect storm of gossipslanderand lies

"And Ulfeldt takes his wife by the hand in the quietness of the nightHe has the keys of the town gatesheopens one of themhorses wait outsideThey ride alongthe shoreand then sail away to Sweden

"Now we turn the pageeven as fortune turns itselffor these two

"It is autumnthe day is shortthe night is longitis grey and dampthe wind so coldand rising in strengthIt whistles in the leaves of the trees on the ramparttheleaves fly into Peter Oxe's courtyardwhich stands emptyand forsaken by its ownersThe wind sweeps out overChristianshavenround Kai Lykke's mansionnow a common jailHe himself has been hunted from honour andhomehis scutcheon is brokenhis effigy hanged onthe highest gallowsThus is he punished for his wantonthoughtless words about the honoured Queen of the landShrilly pipes the windand rushes over the open placewhere the mansion of the Lord High Steward has stoodonly one stone of it is now left'that I drove as a boulder down here on the floating ice'whoops the wind'The stone stranded where Thieves'Island has sincegrownunder my curseand so it came into the mansionof Lord Ulfeldtwhere the lady sang to the sounding luteread Greek and Latinand bore herself proudlynow onlythe stone stands up here with its inscription


"'But where is she nowthe stately ladyHooeehooee'pipes the wind with ear-splitting voiceIn the Blue Towerbehind the palacewhere the seawater beatsagainst the slimy wallsthere she has already sat for manyyearsThere is more smoke than warmth in the chamberthe little window is high up under the ceilingChristianthe Fourth's petted childthe daintiest of maids and matronsin what discomfort and misery she sitsMemoryhangs curtains and tapestries on the smokeblackenedwalls of her prisonShe remembers the lovely time of herchildhoodher father's soft and beaming featuressheremembers her splendid weddingthe days of her prideher hours of hardship in Hollandin Englandand inBornholm

Naught seems too hard for wedded love to bear And faithfulness is not a cause for shame

"Stillhe was with her thennow she is alonealone for everShe knows not his graveno one knows it

Her faithfulness to him was all her crime

"She sat there for yearslong and manywhilst lifewent on outsideIt never stands stillbut we will do thatfor a moment hereand think of herand the words of thesong

I keep my promise to my husband still In want and great necessity

"Do you see the picture here"said Godfather"Itis wintertimethe frost makes a bridge between Lollandand Fyna bridge for Carl Gustavwho is pushing on irre-sistiblyThere is plundering and burningfear and wantin the whole land

"The Swedes are lying before CopenhagenIt is bitingcold and a blinding snowbut true to their kingand trueto themselvesmen and women stand ready for the fightEvery tradesmanshopmanstudentand schoolmaster isup on the ramparts to defend and guardThere is no fear ofthe redhot ballsKing Frederick swore he would die in hisnestHe rides up there and the queen with himCouragedisciplineand patriotic zeal are thereOnly let the Swedeput on his graveclothesand crawl forward in the whitesnowand try to stormBeams and stones are rolled downon himyeathe women come with brewing cauldrons andpour boiling pitch and tar over the storming enemy

"This night king and commoner are one united powerAnd there is rescue and there is victoryThe bells ringsongs of thanksgiving resoundBurgherfolkhere you wonyour knightly spurs

"What follows nowSee the picture hereBishopSvane's wife comes in a closed carriageOnly the high andmighty nobility may do thatThe proud young gentlemenbreak the carriage downthe bishop's wife must walk tothe bishop's house

"Is that the whole story?—Something much biggershall be broken nextthe power of pride

"Burgomaster Nansen and Bishop Svane grasp hands for the workin the name of the LordThey talkwith wisdom and honestyit is heard in the church and inthe burgher's house

"One hand-grip of fellowshipand the haven isblockedthe gates are lockedthe alarm bell rings

"The power is given to the king alonehe who remained in his nest in the hour of dangerhe governsherules over great and smallIt is the time of absolutemonarchy

"Now we turn the page and the time with it

"'Hallohallohallo'The plough is laid asidethe heather gets leave to growbut the hunting is good'Hallohallo'Listen to the ringing hornand the bay-ing houndsSee the huntsmensee the king himselfKing Christian Ⅴ:he is young and gayThere is merri-ment in palace and in townIn the halls are waxlightsin the courtyards are torchesand the streets of the townhave got lampsEverything shines so newThe new nobilitycalled in from Germanybarons and countsgetfavours and giftsNothing passes current now except titlesand rankand the German language

"Then sounds a voice that is thoroughly Danishitis the weaver's son who is now a bishopit is the voiceof Kingohe sings his lovely psalms

"There is another burgher's sona vintner's sonhis thoughts shine forth in law and justicehis lawbookbecame gold-ground for the king's nameit will stand fortimes to comeThat burgher's sonthe mightiest man inthe landgets a coat of arms and enemies with itand sothe sword of the executioner is raised over the head ofGriffenfeldtThen grace is grantedwith imprisonment forlifeThey send him to a rocky islet off the coast of Trondhjem MunkholmDenmark's StHelena

But the dance goes merrily in the palace hallsplendourand pomp are therethere is lively musicand courtiersand ladies dance there "Now comes the time of Frederick Ⅳ!

"See the proud ships with the flag of victorySeethe rolling seait can tell of great exploitsof the gloriesof DenmarkWe remember the namesthe victorious Sehested and GyldenlweWe remember Hvitfeldtwhotosave the Danish fleetblew up his shipand flew toHeaven with the Danish flagWe think of the timeandthe struggle of those daysand the hero who sprang fromthe Norwegian mountains to the defence of DenmarkPeter TordenskjoldFrom the glorious surging seahisname thunders from coast to coast

There flashed a lightning through the powder-dust A thunder rumbled through the whispering age

A tailor-lad sprang from the tailor's board From Norway's coast sailed out a little sloop And over Northern seas there flew again The Viking spirityouthfulgirt with steel

"Then there came a fresh breeze from Greenland'scoasta fragrance as from the land of Bethlehemit boretidings of the Gospel light kindled by Hans Egede and hiswife

"The half leaf here has therefore a gold groundtheother halfwhich betokens sorrowis ashen-grey withblack specksas if from fire sparksas if from disease andpestilence

"In Copenhagen the plague is ragingThe streets areemptythe doors are barredand round about are crossesmarked with chalkinside is the plaguebut where thecross is blackall are dead

"In the night the bodies are carried awaywithout thetollingbellthey take the halfdead from the streets withthemthe army wagons rumblethey are filled withcorpsesBut from the ale houses sound the horrid songs ofthe drunkard and wild shrieksIn drink they seek to forgettheir bitter distressthey would forgetand endendEverything comes to an endHere the page ends with the second time of distress and trial for Copenhagen

"King Frederick is still alivehis hair has growngrey in the course of the yearsFrom the window of thepalace he looks out upon the stormy weatherit is late inthe year

"In a little house by the Westgate a boy plays withhis ballit flies up into the garretThe little one takes atallowcandle and goes up to search for ithe sets fire tothe little houseand so to the whole streetIt flares in theairso that the clouds shineThe flames increaseThere isfood for the firethere is hay and strawbacon and tarthere are piles of firewood for the wintertimeandevery-thing burnsThere is weeping and shrieking andgreat confusionIn the tumult rides the old kingencouraging and commandingThere is blowing up with powderand pulling down of housesNow there is fire also in thenorth quarterane the churches are burningStPeter'sand Our Lady'sListen to the bells playing their lasttune'Turn away thy wrathLord God of Mercy'

"Only the'Round Tower'and the castle are leftstandinground about them are smoking ruinsKingFrederick is good to the peoplehe comforts and feedsthemhe is with themhe is the friend of the homelessBlessed be Frederick Ⅳ!

"See this page now

"See the gilded carriage with footmen round itwitharmed riders before and behind itcoming from the cas-tlewhere an iron chain is stretched to prevent the peoplefrom coming too nearEvery plebeian man must go overthe square with bare headbecause of this not many areseen therethey avoid the placeThere comes one nowwith downcast eyeswith hat in handand he is just theman of that timewhom we name with pride

His words like a cleansing stormwind rang For sunshine in days yet to come

And smuggled in fashions like grasshoppers sprang In haste to escape and get home

It is wit and humour in personit is Ludwig HolbergTheDanish theatrethe scene of his greatnesshas beenclosedas if it were the dwellingplace of infamyAllmerriment is confineddancesongand music are for- bidden and banishedThe dark side of religion is now inpower

"'The Danish prince'as his mother called himnow comes his time with sunshiny weatherwith the songof birdswith gladness and gaietyand true Danish waysKing Frederick is kingAnd the chain is taken awayfrom the square beside the castlethe Danish theatre isopened againthere is laughter and pleasure and good hu-mourAnd the peasants hold their summer festivalIt is atime of gaiety after the time of fast and oppressionThebeautiful thrivesblossoming and bearing fruit in soundincolourand in creative artHearken to Gretry's musicWatch the acting of LondemannAnd Denmark's queenloves what is DanishLouisa of Englandbeautiful andgentleGod in his Heavenbless youThe sunbeamssing in lively chorus about the queens in the DanishlandPhilippaElizabethLouisa

"The earthly parts have long been buriedbut thesouls liveand the names liveAgainEngland sends aroyal brideMatildaso youngand so soon forsakenPoets will sing of thee in times to comeof thy youthfulheart and time of trialAnd song has poweran indescribable power through times and peoplesSee theburning of the castleKing Christian's castleThey tryto save the best they can findSeethe dockyard menare dragging away a basket with silver plate and preciousthingsIt is a great treasurebut suddenly they seethrough the open doorwhere the flames are brightabronze bust of King Christian Ⅳ.Then they cast awaythe treasure they are carryinghis image is much more tothemthat must be savedhowever heavy it may be tocarryThey know him from Ewald's songfrom Hartmann's lovely melody

"There is power in the words and the songand itshall sound even twice as strong for the poor QueenMatilda

"Now we shall turn farther on in our picturebook

"On UIfeldt's Place stood the stone of shamewhere is there one on the earth like itBy the Westgatea column was raisedhow many are there like it on theearth

"The sunbeams kissed the boulderwhich is thefoundation under the'Column of Freedom'All thechurch bells rangand the flags wavedthe people hurrahed for the Crown-Prince FrederickIn the hearts andon the lips of old and young were the names of BernstorffReventlowColbjrnsonWith beaming eyes and thankfulhearts they read the blessed inscription on the column

"'The King has decreed itSerfdom shall ceasetheagrarian laws shall be set in order and put in forcethatthe free yeoman may become brave and enlighteneddili-gent and gooda worthy citizenand happy'

"What a day of sunshineWhat'a Summer festival'

"The spirits of light sang'The good growsThebeautiful growsSoon the stone on UIfeldt's Place willfallbut Freedom's column shall stand in sunshineblessed by Godthe kingand the people'

We have a highway old and wide And to the ends of earth it goes

"The open seaopen for friend or foeand the foewas thereIt sailed upthe mighty English fleeta greatpower came against a little oneThe fight was hard butthe people were brave

Each stood firm with dauntless breath Stood and fought and met his death

"They won the admiration of the foeand inspiredthe poets of DenmarkThat day of battle is still commem-orated with waving flagsDenmark's glorious second ofAprilthe battle-day at the Roadstead

"Years passedA fleet was seen in re SoundWasit bound for Russia or DenmarkNo one knewnot evenon board

"There is a legend in the mouth of the peoplethatthat morning in re Soundwhen the sealed orders werebroken open and readand instructions given to take theDanish fleeta young captain stepped forward to hischiefa son of Britainnoble in word and deed'I swore'was his word'that to my death I would fight for England's flap in open and honourable fightbut not to overpowerthe weak'And with that he sprang overboard

And so to Copenhagen sailed the fleet

While far from Where they fought the battle stark Lay hethe Captainno one knows his name A corpse sea-coldhidden by waters dark Until he drifted shorewardsand the Swedes Beneath the starry sky who cast their nets

Found himand bore him in their boat to land Andcast the dice to win his epauletts

"The enemy made for Copenhagenthe town went upin flamesand we lost our fleetbut not our courage andour faith in GodHe casteth downbut He raiseth upagainOur wounds were healed as in the battles of ValhallaCopenhagen's history is rich in consolation

Our faith has been from times of old That God is ever Denmark's friend If we hold firmHe too will hold And still the sun shine in the end

"And soon the sun shone on the rebuilt cityon therich cornfieldson the workers'skill and arta blessedsummer day of peacewhere poetry raised her Fata Morgana so rich in colourwith the coming of Oehlenschlger

"And in science a discovery was madefar greaterthan that of a goldhorn in olden daysa bridge of gold wasfound

A bridge for thought to dart At all times into other lands and nations

"Hans Christian Oersted wrote his name thereAndseebeside the church by the castle was raised a buildingto which the poorest man and woman gave gladly theirmite

"You remember from the first part of the picturebook"said Godfather"the old stoneblockswhich rolleddown from the mountains of Norwayand were carrieddown here on the icethey are lifted again from the sandybottom at Thorwaldsen's biddingin marble beautylovely to seeRemember what I have shown you and what Ihave told youThe sandbank in the sea raised itself upand became a breakwater for the harbourbore Axel'shousebore the bishop's mansion and the king's castleand now it bears the temple of the beautifulThe words ofthe curse have blown awaybut what the children of thesunlight sang in their gladnessabout the coming timehas been fulfilledSo many storms have gone pastbutmay come again and will again passThe true and thegood and the beautiful have the victory

"And with this the picturebook is finishedbut notthe history of Copenhagenfar from itWho knows whatyou yourself may yet live to seeIt has often looked blackand blown a galebut the sunshine is not yet blownawaythat remainsand stronger yet than the strongestsunshine is GodOur Lord reigns over more than Copenhagen"

So said Godfatherand gave me the bookHis eyesshonehe was so certain of the thingAnd I took thebook so gladlyso proudlyand so carefullyjust as Ilately carried my little sister for the first time

And Godfather said"You are quite welcome toshow your picture-book to one or anotheryou may alsosay that I have madepastedand drawn the whole workBut it is a matter of life or deaththat they know at oncefrom where I have got the idea of itYou know itso tellit themThe idea is due to the old oillampswho juston the last evening they burnedshowed for the town'sgaslights like a Fata Morganaall that had been seenfrom the time the first lamp was lighted at the harbourtill this evening when Copenhagen was lighted both withoil and gas

"You may show the book to whom you pleasethatis to sayto people with kind eyes and friendly heartsbut if a death-horse should comethen close GODFATHER'S PICTUREBOOK"



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