Denmark Part 2

"Grundlovsdag," which is kept in commemoration of the granting of a free Const.i.tution to the nation by Frederik VII., gives the town bands and trade-unions an opportunity to parade the streets and display their capability in playing national music. "Children's Day" is a school holiday, and the children dress in the old picturesque Danish costumes; they then go about the town and market-places begging alms for the sanatoriums in their collecting-boxes. In this way a large sum is collected for these charities.

"Knocking-the-cat-out-of-the-barrel" is an old custom of the peasantry which takes place the Monday before Lent. The young men dress themselves gaily, and, armed with wooden clubs, hie them to the village green. Here a barrel is suspended with a cat inside it. Each man knocks the barrel with his club as he runs underneath it, and he who knocks a hole big enough to liberate poor puss is the victor. The grotesque costumes, the difficulty of stooping and running under the barrel in them, when all your energies and attention are required for the blow, result in many a comical catastrophe, which the bystanders enjoy heartily. Puss is frightened, but not hurt, and I think it would be just as amusing without the cat, but the Danish peasants think otherwise. Another pastime which takes place on the same day is called "ring-riding." The men, wearing paper hats and gay ribbons, gallop round the course, trying to s.n.a.t.c.h a suspended ring in pa.s.sing. The man who takes the ring three times in succession is called "King," he who takes it twice "Prince."

When the sport is over, King and Prince, with their train of unsuccessful compet.i.tors, ride round to the farms and demand refreshment for their gay cavalcade, of which "aeleskiver," a peasant delicacy, washed down by a gla.s.s of aqua-vitae, forms a part.

On the eve of "Valborg's Dag" (May-Day) bonfires are lighted, and the young Danes have a dinner and dance given to them. Each dance is so long that it is customary for the young men to change their partners two or three times during the waltz.

A beautiful custom is still preserved among the older peasantry: when they cross the threshold of their neighbour's house they say, "G.o.d's peace be in this house."

All domestic servants, students, and other people who reside away from home for a time, take about with them a chest of drawers as well as a trunk. I suppose they find this necessary, because in Denmark a chest of drawers is seldom provided in a bedroom.

When the first snowdrops appear, the boys and girls gather some and enclose them in a piece of paper, on which is written a poem. This "Vintergaekke-Brev," which they post to their friends, is signed by ink-spots, as numerous as the letters in their name. The friend must guess the name of the sender within a week, or the latter demands a gift.

Confirmation means coming-out in Denmark. As this is the greatest festival of youth, the young folk are loaded with presents; then girls put up their hair and boys begin to smoke.

The marriage of a daughter is an expensive affair for parents in Denmark, as they are supposed to find all the home for the bride, as well as the trousseau. The wedding-ring is worn by both while engaged, as well as after the marriage ceremony.

The Epiphany is celebrated in many homes by the burning of three candles, and the children are given a holiday on this, the festival of the Three Kings. No doubt you know this is a commemoration of the three wise men of the East presenting their offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to our Lord.

Storks are considered the sacred birds of Denmark. These harbingers of good-luck the children take great interest in, and more especially in the growth of the stork family on the roof-tree.

CHAPTER VII

A JAUNT THROUGH JUTLAND--I

Jutland is the only province left to Denmark which can claim to be mainland, and though it is the most northern part of the country, some of its scenery is very beautiful.

The "Jyde," as the people of Jutland are called, are proud of their birthplace, of their language, and of their p.r.o.nunciation, which the Copenhageners call "accent," but the Jyde declare they speak the purest Danish in the kingdom. However this may be, I am not in a position to judge, but I do know that I can understand the Jyde Danish better, and that it falls upon my ear with a more pleasing sound than does the Danish of the Copenhageners.

The east coast of Jutland is quite charming, so we will start our tour from the first interesting spot on this route, and try to obtain a glimpse of the country.

In Kolding stands a famous castle, which was partially burnt down in 1808. This gigantic ruin is now covered in, and used as an historical museum for war relics.

Fredericia is a very important place. Here that part of the train which contains the goods, luggage, and mails, as well as the first-cla.s.s pa.s.senger carriages for Copenhagen, is shunted on to the large steam ferry-boat waiting to receive it. This carries it across the smiling waters of the Little Belt. A fresh engine then takes it across the island of Funen to the steam-ferry waiting to carry it across the Great Belt to Korsor, on the sh.o.r.es of Seeland, when a locomotive takes the train to Copenhagen in the ordinary way. These steam-ferries are peculiar to Denmark, and are specially built and equipped for this work.

Danish enterprise overcomes the difficulties of transport through a kingdom of islands by these ferries.

Fredericia is an old fortified town with mighty city walls, which make a fine promenade for the citizens, giving them a charming view of the Little Belt's sunlit waters. In this town the Danes won a glorious victory over the Prussians in 1849.

Vejle is one of the most picturesque places on the east coast. Along the Vejlefjord the tall, straight pines of Jutland are reflected in the cool, still depths of blue water, and the tiniest of puffing steamers will carry you over to Munkebjerg. The fascinating and famous Munkebjerg Forest is very beautiful--a romantic place in which the youthful lovers of Denmark delight. These glorious beech woods extend for miles, the trees sloping down to the water's edge from a high ridge, whence you have a magnificent view of the glittering fjord. Most inviting are these cool green shades on a hot summer's day, but when clothed in the glowing tints of autumn they present to the eye a feast of gorgeous colour. A golden and warm brown carpet of crisp, crackling leaves underfoot, the lap of the fjord as a steamer ploughs along, sending the water hissing through the bowing reeds which fringe the bank, make the soothing sounds which fall on lovers' ears as they wander through these pleasant glades.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HARVEST TIME.]

In winter this forest is left to the snow and h.o.a.rfrost, and cold, cairn beauty holds it fast for many days.

The pretty hotel of Munkebjerg, standing on the summit of the ridge, which you espy through a clearing in the trees, is reached by some scores of steps from the landing-stage. Patient "Moses," the hotel luggage-carrier, awaits the prospective guests at the pier. This handsome brown donkey is quite a character, and mounts gaily his own private zigzag path leading to the hotel when heavily laden. His dejection, however, when returning with empty panniers, is accounted for by the circ.u.mstance of "No load, no carrot!" at the end of the climb.

Grejsdal is another beautiful spot inland from the fjord, past which the primitive local train takes us to Jellinge. In this quaint upland village stand the two great barrows, the reputed graves of King Gorm and Queen Thyra, his wife, the great-grandparents of Canute the Great, the Danish King who ruled over England for twenty years. A beautiful Norman church stands between these barrows, and two ma.s.sive Runic stones tell that "Harald the King commanded this memorial to be raised to Gorm, his Father, and Thyra, his Mother: the Harald who conquered the whole of Denmark and Norway, and Christianized the Danes." Steps lead to the top of these gra.s.sy barrows, and so large are they that over a thousand men can stand at the top. The village children use them as a playground occasionally.

Skanderborg, which is prettily situated on a lake, is a celebrated town.

Here a famous siege took place, in which the valiant Niels Ebbesen fell, after freeing his country from the tyrannical rule of the German Count Gert.

Aarhus, the capital of Jutland, is the second oldest town in Denmark.

Its interesting cathedral is the longest in the kingdom, and was built in the twelfth century. The town possesses a magnificent harbour, on the Cattegat, the sh.o.r.es of which make a pleasant promenade.

Randers is a pretty place, with many quaint thatched houses belonging to the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries. The Gudenaa, Denmark's only river, skirts the town. This river is narrow and slow-moving, as there are no heights to give it force.

Hobro, situated on a fjord, wears an air of seclusion, lying as it does far away from the railway-station. A sail on this fjord will bring us to Mariager, the smallest town in Denmark. Renowned are the magnificent beech-woods and ancient abbey of this tiny town. In the surroundings we have a panoramic view of typical Jutish scenery--a charming landscape in the sunset glow, forest, fjord, farmsteads, and moor affording a rich variety of still life.

Aalborg, the delightful old market town on the Limfjord, is fascinating, especially at night, when its myriad lamps throw long shafts of light across the water. Scattered through the town are many old half-timbered houses. These beautiful buildings, with their cream-coloured rough-cast walls, oak beams, richly carved overhanging eaves, and soft-red tiled roofs, show little evidence of the ravages of time. The most famous of these houses was built, in the seventeenth century, by Jens Bang, an apothecary. The chemist's shop occupies the large ground-floor room, the windows of which have appropriate key-stones. On one is carved a man's head with swollen face, another with a lolling tongue, and similar grotesques.

To be an idler and watch the traffic going to and fro over the pontoon bridge which spans the Limfjord is a delightful way of pa.s.sing the time.

Warmed by the sun and fanned by the breezes which blow along the fjord, you may be amused and interested for hours by the life that streams past you. Occasionally the traffic is impeded by the bridge being opened to allow the s.h.i.+ps to pa.s.s through. Small vessels can in this way save time and avoid the danger of rounding the north point of Jutland. If you look at your map you will see that this fjord cuts through Jutland, thus making a short pa.s.sage from the Cattegat to the North Sea.

Jutland north of the Limfjord is called Vendsyssel. Curious effects of mirage may be seen in summer-time in the extensive "Vildmose"[7] of this district.

CHAPTER VIII

A JAUNT THROUGH JUTLAND--II

As we pa.s.s through Vendsyssel homely farmsteads and windmills add a charm to the landscape, while tethered kine and sportive goats complete a picture of rural life.

When we arrive at Frederikshavn we come to the end of the State railway.

This terminus lies close to the port, which is an important place of call for the large pa.s.senger and cargo steamers bound for Norway and other countries, as well as being a refuge for the fis.h.i.+ng-fleet.

A slow-moving local train takes us across the sandy wastes to Skagen, a straggling village, with the dignity of royal borough, bestowed upon it by Queen Margaret, in the fourteenth century, as a reward to the brave fishermen who saved from s.h.i.+pwreck some of her kins-folk. Skagen is a picturesque and interesting place, the home of many artists, as well as a noted seaside resort.

Brondum's Hotel, a celebrated hostelry, where the majority of visitors and artists stay, is a delightfully comfortable, homely dwelling. The dining-room, adorned with many specimens of the artists' work, is a unique and interesting picture-gallery.

On the outskirts of the town the white tower of the old church of Skagen may be seen peeping over the sand-dunes. This "stepped" tower, with its red-tiled, saddle-back roof, forms a striking feature in this weird and lonely landscape. The church itself is buried beneath the sand, leaving only the tower to mark the place that is called the "Pompeii of Denmark," sand, not lava, being answerable for this entombment. It is said that the village which surrounded the church was buried by a sandstorm in the fourteenth century. This scene of desolation, on a windy day, when the "sand fiend" revels and riots, is best left to the booming surf and avoided by those who do not wish to be blinded.

To the south of Skagen lie other curious phenomena created by this "Storm King." The "Raabjerg Miler" are vast and characteristic dunes of powdery sand in long ridges, like huge waves petrified in the very act of turning over! In the neighbouring quicksands trees have been planted, but refuse to grow.

Viborg, the old capital of Jutland, possesses an historically interesting cathedral. In the crypt stands the tomb of King Eric Glipping, as well as those of other monarchs. The interior of the cathedral is decorated with fine frescoes by modern artists.

As we journey to Silkeborg we pa.s.s through the vast heathland, "Alhede,"

and are impressed by the plodding perseverance of the heath-folk. The marvellous enterprise of the Danes who started and have so successfully carried out the cultivation of these barren tracts of land deserves admiration. The convicts are employed in this work, planting, trenching, and digging, making this waste land ready for the farmer. These men have a cap with a visor-like mask, which can be pulled over the face at will.

This s.h.i.+elds the face from the cold blasts so prevalent on these moors; also, it prevents the prying eyes of strangers or fellow-workers.

Many baby forests are being nursed into st.u.r.dy growth, as a protection for farm-lands from the sand and wind storms.

This monotonous-looking heath is not without beauty; indeed, it has a melancholy charm for those who dwell on it. The children love it when the heather is in bloom, and spend happy days gathering berries from out of the gorgeous purple carpet. The great stacks of peat drying in the sun denote that this is the princ.i.p.al fuel of the moor-folk.