DENMARK AND THE DUCHIES.

M. A. DE FLAUX, a recent tourist in Denmark, entered that country at Altona, which he describes as a town of 30,000 souls, clean, and regularly built, bearing a strong resemblance to Amiens, but more lively. It is only separated from Hamburg by a wall, and though not absorbed by its powerful neighbour, it loses all its originality through the contact. Still the Pallmaille, with its fine houses and noble lime-trees, is very handsome, and reminded M. de Flaux of the Unter den Linden at Berlin, though we presume with a difference. In the modest churchyard of the village of Ottenzen reposes the body of the great poet Klopstock, and no admirer of the Messiah passes that way without visiting his tomb.

:

The part of Holstein passed through from Altona to Pinneberg is not very striking the country is low, and covered with ponds and patches of furze. On all sides are poor fields, separated from each other by ditches constantly full of water. On some fed herds of kine, on others mares with their foals. Fields of oats and barley, which the sun had ripened. Beyond Pinneberg, a charming village built in a clump of trees, the land becomes better. The pasturage, which is richer and healthier, supports those large powerful horses so useful for heavy cavalry. Here and there may be seen large farms, in no way inferior to the châlets of Emmenthal or the farms of Yorkshire. Just before reaching Kiel the ground rises into hills and even mountains-a most pleasing prospect for the traveller who has just passed through the desolate landes of North Germany.

Kiel is a small town of 10,000 inhabitants, deliciously situated at the end of a glorious gulf. Formerly it was a celebrated university, but the railway connecting the Elbe and the Baltic has changed its destinies. Kiel must become sooner or later the busy centre of a great trade, and attract, to the detriment of decaying Lübeck, all the vessels trading with Denmark, Sweden, and Prussia. Kiel itself is a clean and regularly-built town, but the greatest charm is found in the scenery surrounding it, which is magnificent. It is studded with wooded heights, where delightful glimpses of the Baltic are caught. A very beautiful lime-tree walk runs from the palace of the Duke of Glücksburg to the Bellevue Hotel, lined on either side with neat cottages, which are filled with bathers in the

summer season.

From Kiel a steamer runs across to Corsoër in Zeeland, whence the traveller proceeds by rail to Copenhagen. Like Stockholm and Christiania, the capital of the third Scandinavian kingdom is of modern origin. In the middle of the twelfth century its site was occupied by fishermen's huts, and the Bishop of Roeskilde, who purchased it of Waldemar I., built a wall round it and converted the hamlet into a fortress. The situation being first-rate, several merchants settled there, and in less than one hundred years the town obtained franchises. Since that time Roeskilde has been gradually abandoned in favour of its vassal, which became the seat of government. Copenhagen is a city of 150,000 inhabitants, well built, containing wide, long, and regular streets, ornamented with handsome gardens and vast squares; but the city is too large, in spite of its

* Du Danemark. Impressions de Voyage. Par A. de Flaux. Paris: Firmin Didot.

fortifications. There are but few fine houses, but to make up for this the palaces and monuments are superb. The most curious of the former is Rosenborg, built in 1604 by Inigo Jones. At present it is converted into a museum of precious articles that had once belonged to the Oldenburg dynasty, and a finer collection hardly exists in Europe.

The late king resided at Christiansborg, a magnificent palace rebuilt by the prince royal after the fire of 1795. The hall of the knights is one of the largest in Europe, and in the ante-chamber is one of the finest of Thorwaldsen's works, the entrance of Alexander into Babylon. In this palace is the picture-gallery, which, however, contains nothing very striking. But the glory of Copenhagen consists in the Thorwaldsen Museum; the immortal sculptor, who died unmarried, left to the city of his birth all the works of art he possessed at his death, with a wish that they should be placed in a museum that was to bear his name. His desire has been nobly carried out. Another interesting collection is that of northern antiquities, in which the three ages of antiquarians may be distinctly traced amid the spoils obtained from tumuli which have been opened.

The environs of Copenhagen are delightful, and are covered with public gardens and cafés chantants. At nightfall the whole population flock to these places, men, women, and children; the only persons remaining in the city are the blind and the halt. The best frequented and oldest of these gardens is Tivoli: the park is admirably designed, and so spacious that 15,000 persons can assemble in it without crowding. The principal attraction is the orchestra, and there is also a theatre, at which vaudevilles and ballets are excellently performed. Another great place of public entertainment is the royal park of Charlottenlund, situated on the sea-shore.

Although the manners and customs of Denmark are much like those of France, there are some notable differences. The Danes, who are mighty eaters, have retained the meal hours of the last century. They breakfast at nine o'clock very substantially, dine at three, and sup at ten. As for the food, we had better give in our author's own words the bill of fare of his first dinner at the Royal Hotel:

"First of all, fried soles with potatoes; after the fish a spring soup; then salt tongue cut in thin slices, and handed round with smoked salmon, sausages, cauliflowers, and French beans. The guests very adroitly place on their plates a portion of everything offered them, and eat the lot without mixing. Then came a roast fowl, with cucumber and currant jelly. At dessert figured a melon grown in the country, and not bad; then Cheshire cheese, salt butter, and fruit; and the repast terminated with prawns and radishes. The supper is the same as the dinner; but with the exception of the first dish, which is hot, the rest is composed of cold meat and salt fish. At breakfast you drunk tea, at supper cold milk, which is refreshing and palatable. Wine is only drank as a rule at dinner."

A rare urbanity and the scrupulous loyalty which are the predominant virtues of a race eager for gain, and most impetuous under an apparent calmness, are spread over the whole of Scandinavia. A robbery with violence is almost unheard of in Denmark, and does not happen once in a quarter of a century. The streets of Copenhagen are as safe by night as by day. Shutters are almost unknown, and M. de Flaux, when walking along the Ostergade at two in the morning, has often found only a sheet

of glass between himself and a jeweller's display. Such a field has naturally attracted London cracksmen, but they could not do anything, from the simple fact that they were so different from the rest of the population, that they at once attracted the attention of the police.

No one who visits Copenhagen omits a trip to Elsineur. A steamer goes there and back in a day, and runs along a beautiful coast-more beautiful, according to our author, than the lagunes of Venice or the Gulf of Naples.

"From the deck of my vessel the most magnificent panorama was slowly unrolled before me. First came Charlottenlund, with its gigantic oaks, then the village of Bellevue, the royal park of Dyrhaven, seven leagues round, the magnificent bathing establishment of Klampenborg, the pretty hermitage which is employed by the king as a shooting-box, and lastly, in an exquisite little bay, the royal palace of Skodsborg. As the boat stopped here a little while, I had time to go to the terrace and enjoy an admirable view. The sky was pure, the sun dazzling. I had at my feet the Sound, scarce rippled by the breeze, and furrowed by yachts and fishing-boats; behind me hills with turf-clad sides, and crowned with gigantic trees: it was truly enchanting. A little farther on appeared the island of Hveen, a spot less celebrated through the numerous attempts made by the Swedes to seize it, than through the residence of the illustrious Tycho Brahe. A few ruined walls mark the site of his palace of Uranienborg.'

On arriving at Elsineur, M. de Flaux rushed off to Marienlyst, once on a time the country-house of the Danish kings, and inseparably connected with the memory of Hamlet. A terrace still bears his name, but, unfortunately, historical research has proved that the royal Dane never set foot in Zeeland, and, according to Saxo-Grammaticus, he was the son of a pirate chief in Jutland. As for Marienlyst, it was not built until the last century, and the castle of Kronborg, the supposed residence of Claudius, so late as the year 1580, by Frederick II. The latter castle was the prison of the hapless Caroline Matilda, and a small oval room, with barred windows, in a tower, is still shown as the one she occupied. Here M. de Flaux was shown the Prie-Dieu which the unfortunate princess employed: on the faded velvet covering it she rested her beautiful head. May it not be possible that the spots sullying it were produced by the tears of agony she shed?

With the progress of artillery, the fortifications of Kronborg, once so formidable, have been rendered worthless, but for all that they are carefully maintained. Beneath the castle are immense vaults, in which popular tradition has placed the residence of Holger the Dane, a species of Scandinavian Roland, whose numerous exploits form the motive of a multitude of legends. He never appears on the surface of the earth save when the State is in danger, but then he marches at the head of its armies. A peasant, says the legend, who once by some strange accident was introduced to his presence, found him seated at a stone table, to which his long white beard had grown fast. "Give me thy hand," was his greeting to the trembling peasant, who, afraid of trusting his diminutive limb to the mighty grasp held out to receive it, presented in its place the iron. bar of the door. Holger Danske having given it a hearty squeeze, which left the impress of his fingers on the iron, then exclaimed, with a grim smile of pleasure," Ha! I see there are still men in Denmark !"

The author returned to Copenhagen overland through Zeeland, the road passing through the most picturesque and diversified part of Zeeland, which reminded him of Westmoreland. On the banks of the lake of Gurre are visible the ruins of an old castle, where Waldemar resided in the fourteenth century. He had selected this spot to conceal an adored mistress from the fury of his jealous wife. Waldemar felt so happy in this pleasant solitude with the object of his love, that he was so imprudent as to say he would willingly give up Paradise if God would let him eternally remain at Gurre. His wish was granted only too fully. His shade, proscribed from Heaven, must wander eternally, without rest or relaxation, through these vast forests. There is scarce an old woman at Gurre who has not, on some dark winter's night, seen the king pass over the frozen lake, urging on his dogs and horses, whose tongues flash flame.

The next spot we arrive at is Fredensborg. It is a castle which Frederic IV. built in 1720, in testimony of the joy the treaty of Neudstadt procured him. The death of Charles XII., that unhappy king who had the monomania rather than the genius of war, was regarded as a blessing throughout the north, which his quarrelsome temper plunged into disorder and menaced with ruin. The Swedes, to inaugurate worthily this new era of peace, cut off Baron Gortz's head. Fredensborg, now neglected, is in a deplorable state. The greatest curiosity it contains is a portrait of Charles XII. It is now employed as a sort of Danish Hampton Court, where noble but poor families are offered a shelter. At the farther end of the forest stood, till 1860, when it was destroyed by a terrible fire, the Palace of Fridericsborg, the Versailles of Denmark: it was a national monument, the most interesting and imposing in the whole monarchy. There was a gallery of celebrities, and among other portraits that of Caroline Matilda. But the most interesting memorial of the unfortunate queen was a pane of glass in a room adjoining the chapel, on which she wrote with a diamond:

Oh, keep me innocent, make others great!

The last king, Frederick VII., who was a plain and studious man, adored this delicious retreat, where he placed his private collection of curiosities, which he labelled and arranged with his own hands. A public subscription was raised to restore the palace, but was naturally found insufficient, and the palace still remains in ruins, to the great grief of the Danes. From Fridericsborg M. de Flaux proceeded by an exquisitely picturesque road to Roeskilde. This quiet little town was in former times the capital of the kingdom, and contained thirty churches and the same number of monasteries. Of her prosperity, all that remains is the cathedral, which is not the metropolitan church, however, but a species of Westminster Abbey, a place of sepulture for the Danish monarchs. It is, next to Trondhem, the finest Gothic building in Scandinavia: it was built in the eleventh century, during the reign of Canute the Great. The finest monument is that of Christian IV., which was designed by Thorwaldsen. Queen Margaret, the Semiramis of the North, who, by the union of Calmar, brought the three Scandinavian crowns under one sceptre, also lies here.

Near Roeskilde is the beautiful lake of Sorö, on whose banks stands the Academy of the same name, founded on a Bernardine convent which

was built here seven hundred years ago. Formerly it was a noble Academy, but since the revolution the system has been completely modified. About a mile from Sorö is the village church of Fiendaslöv, a spot famous in Danish legends. Asser Ryg, when about to depart upon a warlike expedition, repaired to this church to offer up prayers for success. Painfully struck by the dilapidated state of the church, he ordered his wife, Dame Ingo, to build a new one during his absence, and, as she was enceinte, recommended her to add a tower if it was a boy, a spire if a girl. Some months later, Asser Ryg, returning victorious, noticed on the horizon two massive towers which rose proudly above the new church. He was greatly puzzled, but learnt on reaching home that his wife had been delivered of twin boys-Absalom and Asbern Snare— the former the greatest statesman Denmark ever had, and not less valiant captain.

On returning from Corsoër by train to Copenhagen, M. de Flaux noticed on the beautiful Fridericsborg allée, the column erected in the reign of Christian VII. in remembrance of the abolition of feudal customs. This column naturally leads him into a cursory survey of Danish institutions, and through what phases the nation passed before attaining to liberty. The old Scandinavians were sailors and warriors, and had under them serfs, in the shape of prisoners made in war. Originally, the kings were chiefs elected by the people, but in course of time, as things became settled, the royal power increased, and in 1410 the peasants were declared to be serfs. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Christian II., aspiring to become an absolute and hereditary king, supported the peasants against the nobles, who had become the sole guardians of the national liberties. Some amelioration took place, but it was only temporary, the nobles once more constituted an oligarchy, and held the authority up to the year 1660, when the clergy and citizens formed the extraordinary resolution of making monarchy absolute and hereditary. Frederick III., we may feel sure, raised no objection, and the celebrated Lex Regia was drawn up. Frederick himself, aided by a low-born adventurer, first known by the name of Schumacker, and afterwards as a great lord by that of Count Griffenfeld, drew up this celebrated act, which, in their sight, equalled in wisdom the law and the prophets.

After the promulgation of this law, manners and customs changed as much as the institutions; the influence of absolutism was soon felt, and entailed moral degradation, the government of mistresses and favourites, and the long train of evils which follow on this deplorable system. On the death of Frederick III., Schumacker became first favourite of his young successor, Christian V., and rapidly attained the highest power. His fate was that of all favourites: he offended the king by his haughtiness, raised a powerful party against himself, and was finally arrested on a frivolous charge, and sentenced to life imprisonment. In his adversity he displayed admirable humility and resignation, and died after twentythree years of imprisonment. Such was the wretched end of a life commenced under such favourable auspices. Schumacker, the author of the Lex Regia, was the first to be struck by the terrible weapon he had forged with so much care, and placed in the hands of royalty.

The reign of Christian VII. offered a more awful tragedy in the fate of the favourites Struenzee and Brandt. We regret to find that M. de Flaux still adheres to the old exploded theory of Caroline Matilda's