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Chap. LVIL
FIRE OF FREDERIKSBORG.
393
CHAPTER LVII.
DESTRUCTION OF THE PALACE OF FREDERIKSBORG
BY FIRE.
December 17 th.—Our wanderings were over; and I
little thought agai» to resume my pen to record so
sad an event—a national misfortune to the
historyloving people of Denmark.
I was sitting in my room at the Oresund, in Elsinore,
busily and happily immersed in my books, when the
chambermaid, bouncing into my room, announced,
“ Slot brander in Frederiksborg 1 ”—’• the castle’s on fire!”
On crossing over to the police-cFice the telegraphic
despatch displayed before my eyes left no doubt that the
story was, alas! too true. Engines—such engines, too—
squirts, and the members of the fire-brigade, were
hurrying off (I say so by courtesy) to lend their aid and
assistance. In three quarters of an hour’s time I
was myself en route, fast as Danish post-horses and a
highly-booted postilion could carry me.
The day was cold, foggy; the snow lay thick upon the
ground. We really did rattle on at a good pace; but
the way to me appeared interminable. As we rolled
along, never had my recollection of that admirable
gallery appeared so vivid as on that day: each figure
seemed to start out in chronological order from its frame
—singly and separately, one after the other. As we
descended the hill, from behind the woods to the left, which
obscure the palace from view, rose volumes of black cloudy
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