On the morning of November 15th, 1863, Julius Lange and I went together
to offer our congratulations to Frederik Nutzhorn, whose birthday it
was. His sisters received me with their usual cheerfulness, but their
father, the old doctor, remarked as I entered: "You come with grave
thoughts in your mind, too," for the general uneasiness occasioned by
Frederik VII's state of health was reflected in my face. There was good
reason for anxiety concerning all the future events of which an
unfavourable turn of his illness might be the signal.
I went home with Julius Lange, who read a few wild fragments of his
"System" to me. This turned upon the contrasting ideas of
_Contemplation_ and _Sympathy_, corresponding to the inhaling and
exhaling of the breath; the resting-point of the breathing was the
moment of actual consciousness, etc.; altogether very young, curious,
and confused.
In the afternoon came the news of the King's death. In the evening, at
the Students' Union, there was great commotion and much anxiety. There
were rumours of a change of Ministry, of a Bluhme-David-Ussing
Ministry, and of whether the new King would be willing to sign the
Constitution from which people childishly expected the final
incorporation of Slesvig into Denmark. That evening I made the
acquaintance of the poet Christian Richardt, who told me that he had
noticed my face before he knew my name. Julius Lange was exceedingly
exasperated and out of spirits. Ploug went down the stairs looking like
a man whose hopes had been shattered, and whom the blow had found
unprepared. His paper had persistently sown distrust of the Prince of
Denmark.
The Proclamation was to take place in front of Christiansborg Castle on
December 16th, at 11 o'clock. I was fetched to it by a student of the
same age, the present Bishop Frederik Nielsen. The latter had made my
acquaintance when a Free-thinker, but fortunately he recognised his
errors only a very few years later, and afterwards the valiant
theologian wrote articles and pamphlets against the heretic he had
originally cultivated for holding the same opinions as himself. There
is hardly anyone in Denmark who persists in error; people recognise
their mistakes in time, before they have taken harm to their souls;
sometimes, indeed, so much betimes that they are not even a hindrance
to their worldly career.
The space in front of the Castle was black with people, most of whom
were in a state of no little excitement. Hall, who was then Prime
Minister, stepped out on the balcony of the castle, grave and upright,
and said, first standing with his back to the Castle, then looking to
the right and the left, these words: "King Frederik VII is dead. Long
live King Christian IX!"
Then the King came forward. There were loud shouts, doubtless some
cries of "Long live the King," but still more and louder shouts of:
"The Constitution forever!" which were by no means loyally intended. At
a distance, from the Castle balcony, the different shouts could, of
course, not be distinguished. As the King took them all to be shouts of
acclamation, he bowed politely several times, and as the shouts
continued kissed his hand to right and left. The effect was not what he
had intended. His action was not understood as a simple-hearted
expression of pure good-will. People were used to a very different
bearing on the part of their King. With all his faults and foibles,
Frederik VII was always in manner the Father of his people; always the
graceful superior; head up and shoulders well back, patronisingly and
affectionately waving his hand: "Thank you, my children, thank you! And
now go home and say 'Good-morning' to your wives and children from the
King!" One could not imagine Frederik VII bowing to the people, much
less kissing his hand to them.
There was a stormy meeting of the Students' Union that evening. Vilhelm
Rode made the principal speech and caustically emphasised that it took
more than a "Kiss of the hand and a parade bow" to win the hearts of
the Danish people. The new dynasty, the head of which had been abused
for years by the National Liberal press, especially in _The
Fatherland_, who had thrown suspicion of German sympathies on the
heir-presumptive, was still so weak that none of the students thought
it necessary to take much notice of the change of sovereigns that had
taken place. This was partly because since Frederik VII's time people
had been accustomed to indiscriminate free speech concerning the King's
person--it was the fashion and meant nothing, as he was beloved by the
body of the people--partly because what had happened was not regarded
as irrevocable. All depended on whether the King signed the
Constitution, and even the coolest and most conservative, who
considered that his signing it would be a fatal misfortune, thought it
possible that Christian IX. would be dethroned if he did not. So it is
not difficult to form some idea of how the Hotspurs talked. The whole
town was in a fever, and it was said that Prince Oscar was in Scania,
ready at the first sign to cross the Sound and allow himself to be
proclaimed King on behalf of Charles XV. Men with Scandinavian
sympathies hoped for this solution, by means of which the three
kingdoms would have been united without a blow being struck.
In the middle of the meeting, there arrived a message from Crone, the
Head of Police, which was delivered verbally in this incredibly
irregular form--that the Head of Police was as good a Scandinavian as
anyone, but he begged the students for their own sakes to refrain from
any kind of street disturbance that would oblige him to interfere.
I, who had stood on the open space in front of the Castle, lost in the
crowd, and in the evening at the meeting of the students was auditor to
the passionate utterances let fall there, felt my mood violently
swayed, but was altogether undecided with regard to the political
question, the compass of which I could not fully perceive. I felt
anxious as to the attitude of foreign powers would be in the event of
the signing of the Constitution. Old C.N. David had said in his own
home that if the matter should depend on him, which, however, he hoped
it would not, he would not permit the signing of the Constitution, were
he the only man in Denmark of that way of thinking, since by so doing
we should lose our guarantee of existence, and get two enemies instead
of one, Russia as well as Germany.
The same evening I wrote down: "It is under such circumstances as these
that one realises how difficult it is to lead a really ethical
existence. I am not far-sighted enough to perceive what would be the
results of that which to me seems desirable, and one cannot
conscientiously mix one's self up in what one does not understand.
Nevertheless, as I stood in the square in front of the Castle, I was so
excited that I even detected in myself an inclination to come forward
as a political speaker, greenhorn though I be."