"_Piscator._--But, my worthy friend, I would rather
prove myself a gentleman by being learned and humble, valiant
and inoffensive, virtuous and communicable, than by any fond
ostentation of riches."
--_The Complete Angler._
Pastor Lindal accepted the invitation to join the yacht. He was
anxious to know more of Mrs. Hardy, in whose hands he felt so much of
his daughter's future lay.
Mrs. Hardy had, as she had done before every Sunday, attended the
parish church, and Helga thanked her for the contents of the packet of
Danish bank notes. It was more in amount, she said, than she wanted,
and would return Mrs. Hardy three-fourths of it.
"It is very kind," said Helga; "but I can only accept what is
positively necessary, and I accept that because it would relieve my
father from an expense that he cannot well bear, and because John
might wish to see me well dressed when I am married to him."
"Would you not like to make Kirstin and your father's other servants a
present when you are married?" said Mrs. Hardy.
"Yes, I shall; but I cannot use your money to do that, Mrs. Hardy. I
shall give them what I have of my own, and what they know I have
valued; it is not much, but they would like it best."
This conversation had ended when they reached the parsonage, where
Robert Garth was waiting with the carriage to drive Mrs. Hardy and her
son to Rosendal.
"John," said Mrs. Hardy, as they drove away, "she is worthy of your
best affection. There is not a day passes but that something arises
which makes me love her more and more." Mrs. Hardy loved again with
her son's love.
"Mother," said John, "she is so dear to me; there is nothing that is
not truth with her."
"You are right, John," said his mother. "Give her all your heart, and
she will give you hers."
"I know it, mother," said John.
Pastor Lindal accompanied them to Aarhus, and when they came on board
the yacht, John Hardy spread out the chart of the Danish islands
before him.
"We can reach Nyborg to-night, Herr Pastor," said he, "and call and
stop at Svendborg, and run round Moen's Klint to Copenhagen, and
passing Elsinore to Aarhus again, stopping at any place on the way."
"But the time?" asked the Pastor.
"A week," replied John; "or you can land at any place, and return by
rail in a few hours."
"No, Herr Pastor," interposed Mrs. Hardy, "you must not bind us to
time. We shall see if the cruise is a benefit to you, and if so, you
must prolong it."
The Pastor always surrendered when challenged by Mrs. Hardy.
Whilst they were at lunch, the _Rosendal_ steam yacht was passing
Samso.
"This island," said John Hardy, "appears from the chart to be a sand
bank washed up by the sea."
"So is all Denmark," said Pastor Lindal. "The legends and traditions
belonging to Samso, however, are not as old as those of Jutland, and
it would therefore appear not to have been inhabited at so early a
period. There is an historical tradition that in 1576 a mermaid
appeared to a man of Samso, and directed him to go to Kallundborg,
where King Frederick II. was then staying with his court, and tell him
that his queen would have a son, which would become a mighty ruler.
The king questioned the man, who stated that the mermaid's name was
Isbrand, and that she lived in the sea, not far from land, with her
mother and grandmother, and that it was the latter that had foretold
the birth of Queen Margrethe, who united the three Scandinavian
kingdoms under one crown. King Frederick sent the man home, and
commanded him not to come to the court again.
The king's son was Christian IV., under whose rule Denmark attained
its zenith of power. Once, when Christian IV. was driven ashore by a
storm on Samso, he saw the priest's man ploughing. The king took the
plough and ploughed a furrow, and told the man to tell his master that
the king had ploughed for him."
"A good way to acquire popularity in those times," remarked
Mrs. Hardy. "But are there any more stories of the kind?"
"There is the story of the Church of the Holy Cross. There is a tablet
said to be yet in the church, on which there is an inscription,"
replied the Pastor. "This states that a gilt cross in the church was
washed ashore bound to a corpse, but that when they would take the
corpse to a particular churchyard, that four horses could not move the
waggon in which it was placed. They then tried to draw the waggon to
another churchyard, with the same result; but at last they directed
the horses to the church at Onsberg, and then two horses could easily
draw it; so the corpse was buried in the eastern end of the church,
and the church afterwards called the Church of the Holy Cross. The
date is given as 1596. There is also a story of the Swedish war of
1658, when a party of Swedish cavalry took a tailor prisoner, and set
him at work on a table in a farm-house, while they fired at a mark on
the door, the balls passing close to his head. It is said the door yet
exists, with the bullet marks in it."
"We have an island in sight, on the starboard bow, called Endelave;
are there any traditions existing there?" asked Hardy.
"There is only the story of a giant who threw a stone from thence to
Jutland, which was so large that two girls saved themselves from a
bull by climbing to the top of it. There is, however, the variation
that it was thrown by a giantess from Fyen (Funen) with her garter. I
know of no special legend from Endelave."
"There is a town marked Kjerteminde on the chart; is that in
recollection of anything specially historical, as would appear from
the name?" asked Hardy.
"When Odin built the town called Odense," replied the Pastor, "the
other towns were envious of its better appearance and condition, and
particularly the town now called Kjerteminde, and complaint was made
to Odin, who was angry, and replied, 'Vaer du mindre' (literally, 'be
you less'); this was that they should continue to be smaller towns
than Odense. In time the name from Vaer du mindre became altered to its
present name of Kjerteminde. There is also the variation that the name
is from St Gertrude's minde (memory) contracted to Kjerteminde. She
was the sailors' patron saint."
"There is more to be said of Odense, as it was founded by Odin," said
Mrs. Hardy.
"What I can tell you of Odense," said the Pastor, "is history,
chiefly. There is the story that a rich man called Ubbe gave his
property to St. Knud's (Canute) Church under singular circumstances.
His relatives wanted him to leave his property to them, and they
placed a woman in his household, if possible, to influence him in
their favour, and she did not. Ubbe had become blind. He directed some
tripe to be cooked, possibly because his teeth were gone. The woman,
however, having no tripe, cut up an old felt hat and gave him. This he
chewed and chewed, when a little child told him what it was. He was
angry at the deceit, and gave his property to the Church; and the name
of a portion of his lands was changed from Ubberud to Kallun (tripe).
Odense is the birth-place of Hans Christian Andersen, whose stories
have been translated into English," continued Pastor Lindal; "but,
like other translations, they lose immeasurably by translation."
"What is the chief historical interest connected with Odense?" asked
Mrs. Hardy.
"The death of St. Knud," replied the Pastor. "He was the grand-nephew
of Canute the Great. He was killed in the church of St Albanus, in
1086, by his rebellious subjects. He wanted to make war on England, as
he claimed the English throne, and they resisted; so far it is
history. The story is that he was pursued, and fled to the church, and
prayed for his enemies. He saw a Jutland man looking at him through a
window of the church, and the king asked for water. The man ran to a
stream and fetched water in a cup; but as he reached it to the king,
another man struck the cup with his spear, and the water was spilt,
and the king was killed by a stone thrown at him. The man who had
prevented the king getting the cup of water went out of his mind, and
had always a burning thirst, and on going to a well to drink fell
down, and stuck in it over the water, which he could not reach, and so
perished. The king was canonized, but is said to occasionally visit
the church, where he was buried, from his place amongst the angels.
This church he had just commenced to build. There is a story that when
the tower was building, an apprentice told his master he was as good a
builder. The master-builder went out of the tower on the scaffolding
and stuck an axe into it, and told the apprentice to go and fetch it,
if he could. The apprentice went, but called out that an adjoining
village was approaching the town of Odense. 'Then God have mercy on
your soul' said the master-builder. The apprentice fell to the ground
and was killed. There is, however, a variation of this story, which
localizes it in Copenhagen at Our Lady's Church there, and that the
apprentice cried out that he saw two axes. The result was the same."
"Thank you very much, Herr Pastor," said Mrs. Hardy. "You must try and
keep up the practice of speaking English." The Pastor was in the habit
of falling back on his own language when he had a difficulty, for John
Hardy to interpret.
"I think we should have but one language all over the world," said the
Pastor, "and that language should be English."
"There is not much to see at Nyborg, mother," said John, "and the
pilot says if we leave early to-morrow that we had best anchor outside
the harbour, clear of the course of the steamers from Korsor. We shall
have the anchor down at six, and we can go ashore and have dinner a
little before eight, and then the Pastor can hold his second
tobacco-parliament before we turn in. We shall also have to engage
another pilot, as it is difficult navigation to Svendborg; and if we
start at six, we shall be there at eight to-morrow, which will enable
us to see Svendborg and its pretty neighbourhood, and in the evening
can anchor under shelter of Vaeiro, an island, so as to reach
Vordingborg early to-morrow."
Mrs. Hardy followed her son's explanation on the chart. He was himself
the registered owner of his yacht, and acted as his own skipper when
on board; and as his men had been with him in other yachts, of which
he had been the owner, they had confidence in him, as they had seen
his courage and seamanship again and again put to the proof.
"You are always self-reliant, John," said his mother.
"Yes; but Pastor Lindal has taught me on whom reliance should be
placed," said John. "The simple trust he has and the simple faith of
which he is convinced are in his life and practice. No sermon can have
such influence as to be with him one day in his parish when he visits
those he sees it necessary to visit. It is the simplicity of perfect
truth about him that has made his daughter a pearl without price."
"I believe every word of what you say, John," said his mother. "She
has now my heart as completely as she has yours."
There is not so much to see in Nyborg. The walk in the wood is pretty
with its thoroughly Danish prospect, and there is little else to
interest. Pastor Lindal was tired when they reached the yacht, but
revived with the tonic effect of a good dinner. They adjourned to the
deck-house, and Hardy essayed to fill the porcelain pipe with
Kanaster, but failed. The pipe was too hard pressed with tobacco and
would not draw, and it was not John Hardy only who missed Helga.
"Is there anything to relate about Nyborg, Herr Pastor?" asked Hardy.
"There is not much specially," replied the Pastor. "There is the story
of the monkey taking Christian II. out of his cradle when there was a
royal residence at Nyborg, and jumping out of the window with him, and
taking him upon the roof, so that it was with difficulty that they got
him down again. There is also the story of the ghost of Queen Helvig,
who was married to Valdemar Atterdag. She is said to have appeared for
years to the sentry on the ramparts, and to have always left a dollar
under a stone, which he collected; but one day, he was sick, and told
a comrade to fetch the dollar, but no dollars were placed under the
stone after. Queen Helvig was imprisoned there for a long time, under
a charge frequently preferred in those days."
"Had you not particular days called Maerkedage, to which particular
importance was attached?" asked Hardy.
"They were principally the greater festivals of the Church, or on New
Year's Day," replied the Pastor. "Thus, for instance, if the sun shone
out so long on New Year's Day that a horse could be saddled, it was a
sign of a fruitful year; also, if a girl or a young man wished to know
whom she or he would marry, they write the names of suspected persons
on different pieces of paper, and put them under their pillows on New
Year's Eve, and the one thus dreamt of is the one selected; also, if a
turf is cut from the churchyard New Year's Eve, the person who puts it
on his or her head can see who will die in the year, as their ghosts
will appear in the churchyard. There is also another means to the same
end, and that is when people sit at a table New Year's Eve; those that
will die in the year cast a shadow, but without a head. Tyge Brahe has
particularized many days in the year as being unlucky, on which to
attend to any business or to do anything important, but they are so
numerous that they are not regarded."
"Herr Pastor," said Mrs. Hardy, "you are tired with your walk about
Nyborg, and your speaking so much in English; I wish to suggest a
subject that will give you something to think of."
"What may that be?" asked the Pastor.
"I have thought," said Mrs. Hardy, "that you might like to see us at
home in England before the winter. John will leave at the end of
August, and you might go with him. What I feel is, that I should like
during the winter you should feel that your daughter is well cared
for."
"I will go," said the Pastor; and he held out his hand to Mrs. Hardy
in his Danish manner, and the matter was at an end. Mrs. Hardy's
kindly tact always overcame him.
The visit to Svendborg entailed so much to see and explore, that it
was not until late in the evening that the yacht was reached. The
Pastor was, however, fresher than the evening before, possibly because
they had not walked so much, but had driven.
"What we have seen at Svendborg, Herr Pastor, is very pretty," said
Mrs. Hardy, "but it differs from an English landscape; and it is only
by seeing both that you can realize the contrast."
"That is very possible," replied Pastor Lindal. "The same landscape
painted by different artists would make each their impression; how
much more, then, would nature, with influences we cannot understand,
produce different effects?"
Mrs. Hardy looked as if a fresh field of thought was opened to her,
and her son observed his mother's look of surprise.
"I have been often astonished," he said, "to hear from Pastor Lindal
and Helga a similar cast of thought that has given me something to
think of for long after. I think it is the outcome of a natural
singleness of thought we do not often meet."
"I believe you are right, John," said his mother. "But possibly Herr
Pastor can tell us a tradition of Svendborg;" and she raised her voice
and addressed him.
"There is the tradition of St. Jorgen," he said, "or, as you call it
in English, St. George and the dragon. The features of the story, of
course, are the same; with us the tradition runs as follows:--There
was a temple inhabited by a dragon, who issued from it and laid waste
the country. Each day the monster craved a human life, until at last
lots were drawn as to who should be the victim, and from this neither
the king nor his family were exempt, and the lot fell on his only
daughter. The king offered half his kingdom to any one who should
destroy the dragon. A knight called Jorgen attempted to do so, by
putting poisoned cakes in the dragon's way; but that availed nothing.
He then attacked it, and the monster retreated to Svendborg; but it
again came forth, and a combat between the knight and the dragon
ensued. The dragon was slain, and where its poisonous blood poured out
no grass will grow. The combat is said to be delineated on the church
bells. It is very probably only an echo of the Greek story of Perseus
and Andromeda. You will observe the dragon in our tradition is said to
have issued from a temple. We had no temples, the Greeks had.
"There are not many special traditions connected with Svendborg. There
is the story of a noble lady who was murdered at Svendborg, but the
murderers were men of rank, and the whole town agreed to pay
blood-money, and some farms were apportioned to the murdered woman's
relatives and a wooden cross set up over her grave; and it was agreed
that when the wooden cross fell into decay, whoever first repaired it
should possess the farm so apportioned. The consequence was that a
wooden cross was always kept ready to repair the original cross. This
story has many variations and is differently localized."
"Are there not many proverbs with regard to the weather, or the like,
in Denmark?" asked Hardy.
"There are, but they are identical with the English," replied the
Pastor. "There are some that may be new; for instance, we say that
there is always some sun on a Saturday, that the poor may dry the
clothes they wash. The farmers also say that if the priest takes his
text from St. Luke in preaching his Sunday's sermon, it is sure to
rain. Also, that a southerly wind is like a woman's anger, it always
ends in weeping. Of days in the week we say, that if it rains on a
Sunday and a Monday it will rain the whole week. Again, we say--
'Sondags Veir til Middag
Er Ugens Veir til Fredag.'
'Sunday's weather to midday
Is the week's weather to Friday.
There is another of the same character:
'Tirsdag giver Veir til Torsdag,
Fredags Veir giver Sondags Veir,
Lordag har sit eget Veir,
Mandag enten vaerre eller bedre.'
'Tuesday's weather is Thursday's weather,
Friday's weather is Sunday's weather,
Saturday has its own weather,
Monday is either worse or better.
The same, I believe, exists in England," continued the Pastor, "or at
least very nearly allied to it."
"It is so," said Hardy.