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310
NYSTED.
Chap. L.
limaçon of the staircase. Matters have changed for the
better since the sad tragedy occurred in the sister-tower.
Talk of good old times—in books if you will: but let us
thank our stars we didn’t live in them !
It was dark when we arrived at the little sea-side
town of Nysted. <£ Maribo and Saxkjøbing are pleasant
places,” says the proverb, “ but Nysted surpasses them
both.” We shall see to-morrow.
NYSTED.
Nysted resembles other small Danish towns. When
you gain the sea-side, a long double avenue of trees
conducts you to the ancient chateau of Aalholm, a
huge red brick pile of buildings, with massive square
towers, dating from Queen Margaret’s days, thanks to
Marsk Stig and Skipper Clemens, a rarissima avis
in Denmark. Here resided her brother—poor
halfbegotten little Christopher — Duke of Lolland, whose
effigy in alabaster we have seen in Roeskilde
cathedral, all broken to pieces, the Danish Government
too poor or too stingy to afford the cement necessary
for sticking him together. Some authors declare that
he was poisoned at Queen Margaret’s wedding, but
there is no truth in the story: in those uncomfortable
days no one was allowed to die peaceably without
suspicion.
The castle—“ over-rumplet ” (taken by surprise) in
1534—is now the property of the Count of Raben, but
is seldom inhabited: the gardens, kept in the true
Lolland style, are well worthy of a visit.
Such black coal-scuttle bonnets as the women wear
here! of carton, like the Fionese; not japanned,
tea
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