"FAIRY-TALE" CASTLES AND PALACES
"'FREDENSBORG' means 'Castle of Peace.' It is an idyllic spot near
here, famous the whole world over as the happy holiday gathering-place,
every summer, of half the present crowned heads, majesties, and royal
highnesses of Europe," said Fru Ingemann. "Let us take this waiting
carriage now for a quick drive over there and back again in time
for our steamer this afternoon to Aarhus. All this part of Eastern
Zealand is so rich in romantic, fairy-tale castles and palaces, that
I only wish we had time enough to see them all. But Fredensborg's
hospitable roof has sheltered all the royal children, grandchildren,
and great-grandchildren of good old King Christian IX, of Denmark,
who was affectionately called 'The Grandfather of Europe.' Only think
of a family reunion including King Frederik VIII and Queen Lowisa, of
Denmark; their son, King Haakon, of Norway; former Queen Alexandra, of
England, and her sister, the Dowager Empress Dagmar, of Russia, who
were both Danish princesses; King George and Queen Mary, of England;
King George, of Greece; and the Czar of all the Russias,--all meeting,
every summer, in a quiet little family reunion in our obscure little
Denmark at Fredensborg Palace!"
"But, Aunt Else, you left out the German Emperor!" observed Karl, who
persisted in always mentioning the Germans.
"The German Emperor never comes to these royal gatherings, Karl. He
is the only king who is not welcomed on Danish soil," explained Fru
Ingemann, gently. "But here we are now at the palace."
They approached the palace through an avenue of magnificent old
lindens, through whose interlaced branches they caught glimpses of the
blue sky and of the still bluer Lake Esrom, near by. Then, entering a
very stony courtyard, the carriage stopped before a few steps, guarded
by two stone lions.
Soon they were walking through the apartments of the Queen, on the
right, and of those of the King, on the left. From the King's plain
working room, on the floor above, they looked out over the beautiful
Marble Garden, so called from the elaborate statuary romantically
placed among the old beech-trees, under whose deep shadows King Edward
and Queen Alexandra, of England, did their courting. Nor was theirs the
only royal love tale those mighty old trees could tell.
In one room still stood the historic old Settee of the Czar, so called
because the present Czar's father, who loved children, used to sit
there and play for hours with his own royal children, whom he loved so
well.
Nothing interested them all more than the inscriptions--tender and
pathetic--which they found on several of the historic old windows.
Karl could only read a few, which happened to be in English, such as
"Alexandra, September, 1868," and another, "Willie," which the King of
Greece had written. But, when it came to a French inscription: "_Que
Dieu veille sur la Famille Royale et la protège._ Alexandra, 1867,"
Karl had to call upon Valdemar to translate it for him, as well, of
course, as all the Danish ones.
"'May God watch over the royal family and protect it,' is the
translation of the French one, Karl, by Queen Alexandra; and Olga,
Queen of Greece, has written in Danish here on this window: '_Danmark,
Danmark, elskede Hjem_,' which means: 'Denmark, Denmark, beloved home,'
and here is a touching one by the late Czar: '_Farvel kjaere gamle
Fredensborg_,' 'Farewell, dear old Fredensborg.'"
"And, mother," said Karen, "here is: 'Farewell, my beloved Fredensborg.
Alexandra, September, 1868;' and 'Christian-Louise, 1864,' and
'Valdemar-Marie, 1885.'"
They drove away through the royal grounds, which reached down to the
shores of beautiful Esrom Lake, glimmering like a sapphire in the
setting sun's soft light, and were soon back once more at Helsingör.
"Aunt Else," said Karl, "Fredensborg Castle looked exactly like the
pictures of castles in the books of fairy tales."
"If that is what you like, Karl, then some day you must surely see
Frederiksborg Palace, in the lovely forest region north of Copenhagen.
It stands on an island in a lake, and is all spires, turrets and
battlements, and certainly looks like a real fairy-tale castle," said
Fru Ingemann. "Some of its venerable beeches are five hundred years
old. But here is the little inn where we must have something nice and
warm to eat before we take our steamer, in just a few minutes, for we
will be sailing all night. We have barely time, if we hurry."
After finishing their little dinner of hot cinnamon-flavored soup,
broiled fish, rye bread, preserves and _röd-gröd_, all of which tasted
so good after their drive back through the woods, they boarded the
little steamer which was to take them on their all-night trip over the
Kattegat to Aarhus, on the east coast of the peninsula of Jutland, or
the Continent, as the Danes call it.
"Aunt Else, on one of those windows at Fredensborg, was the
inscription: 'Valdemar-Marie, 1885.' Won't you tell me all about the
Valdemars? They were Denmark's greatest kings, weren't they?" urged
Karl.
"Yes, but Valdemar will be glad to tell you all about them and about
all the other kings of Denmark, too, Karl; but wait--here comes Fróken
Johanne Nielsen, with her little nephews, Tykke and Hans, to talk to
us. Fróken Nielsen is a great traveller. Children, don't you remember
meeting them one summer up on the Strandvej?"
Karen courtesied prettily, while the boys arose, bowed, and politely
gave their seats to the Nielsens. Then Fru Ingemann listened while
Fróken Johanne, who only remained a few minutes, told them of the
famous sights of Stevns Klint, or cliff, on Zealand's eastern coast,
where they had just been; and of the still more wonderful scenery
on the romantic little island of Möen, in the Baltic, where the
dazzling white limestone cliffs of Lille and the Store Klint adorn the
sea-coast, and where the summer-time sunset comes after nine o'clock,
and the clear northern light lasts until morning.
"And don't forget about Faxö, Aunt Johanne, or Svendborg. Faxö was the
best of all," put in little Tykke, as he delved deep down into his
pockets and brought forth some pieces of fine coral.
"Yes, Faxö is an ancient coral crag jutting out into the Baltic,"
explained Fróken Johanne. "It is full of beautiful and rare fossils,
and from Svendborg, on Fyen Island, we had such a beautiful view for
miles and miles. From one high place the children could see alternate
land and water five times, as well as the coasts of Sweden and Germany.
The islands seemed like stepping-stones in the Baltic. But come,
children, say good-bye; we must go."
While they had been talking the setting sun had thrown a yellow glory
over the waters in front of Elsinore, which was now fading slowly
away. The forests about the old castle on the promontory became dark,
blurred masses, and the white sails below were mere moving shadows. The
children could no longer see even the many fine specimens of fossils
and coral which Hans and Tykke had generously divided with them.
The little steamer advanced upon the rolling _Kattegat_, with great
flocks of white-winged sea-gulls following in its wake. Fru Ingemann
noticed that Karen, who never could stand the churning motion of a
boat, was turning perceptibly pale, and that a vague, uncertain feeling
seemed to be creeping over even Valdemar and Karl, so she took her
sleepy little brood below and soon had them all tucked snugly into bed
for the night.